Suchergebnisse

Issue 25.2 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Sanctification through Obedience by Charles A. Scldeck, C.S.C. 161 Decree on the Eastern Catholic Church~ by Vatican Council II 235 The Church's Holiness and Religious Life by Gustave Martelet, ~q.J. 246 Division of a Province by Albert A, Reed, C.PP.S. 269 The Young Religious and His Poverty by William M. Barbieri, S.J. 288 Religious Rule and Psychological Development by John W. Stafford, G.S.V. 294 Obedience and Subsidiarity by Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. 305 Religious Censorship of Private Communications by James Gaffney, S.J. 314 Survey of Roman Documents 320 Views, News, Previews 324 Questions and Answers 330 o Book Reviews 335 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Sanctification through bedi en ce In the mind of the early Christians the practice of obedience was always considered as somehow or other essential, as necessarily included in their response to God's prevenient redeeming love. A study of the New Testament would reveal that obedience was seen as col-lective; it was an obedience that centered around the submission of the Ghurch to Christ. The members' of the Church, the earthly body of the glorified Christ, were on a voyage during which they were called upon to obey their guide, Christ speaking to them especially through the authorities he had established in the Church.x They considered themselves to be under the authority of the new commandment of charity, such that the accomplish-ment of this commandment included the accomplish-ment of all the others.~ They saw the primary exemplar of their life of Christian obedience in the person of Christ Himself. Every work of His life, all His life, is an ¯ act of obedience to the will of His Father.8 Since they considered that all authority came from God4 they were to obey not merely out of fear but from conscience or for the Lord,~ unless this authority attempted to abuse the power that had been given it. Slaves were to obey their masters,~ wives their husbands,7 children their parentsS; yet all were to love Christ even more. In short, according to the New Testament, any life that was truly Christian had to be filled and impreg-nated with obedience of one sort or another, obedience to God, to Christ, to the Church, to the state, to parents, 1 Heb 13:7. ~ Gal 5:14. SLk 22:42; Jn 17:4; Phil 2:8; Rom 5:19; Mt 9:13; 26:52. '.Mr 22:15 ft.; Rom 13:5. Sl Pt 2:13 ft. e Eph 6:5; Col 8:22. ~ 1 Cot 11:3 ft. SEph 6:1; Col 3:20. Father Charles A. Schleck, C.S.C., is a faculty member of Holy Cross Col-lege; 4001 Hare-wood Road N.E.; Washington,. D.C. 10017. VOLUME 25, 1966 161 + + + c. A. $chleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to a husband, and so forth. Its characteristic mark was that it be shown to any.of these as to the Lord. It was this which g.ave concrete expressions of obedience their unity. From this it would seem that the entire Christian life in its ensemble was considered to be obedience. For everything in it was thought of as an implicit or formal accomplishment of the divine authoritative will speak-ing through the various organs capable of its revela-tion. The application of obedience for the early Chris-tians, if we are to judge from New Testament writings, was as vast as was the field of charity. In fact any and all obedience was considered as being the fulfillment o? charity in its diverse forms. Once an action was seen as necessary for the life of charity and recognized as such by the moral conscience, it became an obligation in virtue of the obligatory character of the precept of charity.9 It was seen not merely in the light of what we would call the virtue of justice but rather in the light of charity, and as such entered into the theologal life o( the Christian. It was a vital human activity of which God Himself was the object and the motive, and in the perfecting of which God was coactive. It was the life of grace in faith, hope, and love, and as such brought about a personal relationship with God.1° On the other side of the coin, those who were called to exercise authority in the Church were to do so as a service to the community, and this in imitation of the Lord who came not to be served but rather to serve,xl The disciples were chosen by Christ and sent to the children of Israel first and then to all the nations12 so that as sharers in His power they might make all peoples His members by sanctifying them and governing themAz They were given the task of ministering to it always under the guidance of the Lord and of guiding it or di-recting it all days even to the consummation of the world.~4 They were called upon to take up the service of the community, presiding in place of God over the community as shepherds of the flock of Christ; whoever listened to them listened to Christ; and whoever re-jected them, rejected Christ and Him who sent Christ, the FatherJ5 The ministry which these men were to exercise was threefold: the ministry of teaching sound 9See K. Truhlar, s.J., "L'ob6issance des la'ics," in La[cs et vie chrdtienne parfaite (Rome: Herder, 1963), p. 245. tOE. Schillebeeckx, O.P., Christ the Sacrament of the Encounter with God (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 16, nQte 14. u Mk 10:45; see also Y. Congar, O.P, Power and Poverty in the Church (Baltimore: Helicon, 1964), pp. 98-9. tO Rom 1:16. tO Mt 28:16-20; Mk 16:15; Lk 24:45-8; Jn 20:21-3. 1~ Mt 28:20. ~Lk 10:16. doctrinele; the ministry o[ sancti[ying17; and the ministry of. governing.~8 It is clear from this that authority is not used correctly whenever it turns into despotism or domi-nation, ae It is meant to be a service of love and in love (agap6) to the community, or a prelacy in the sense of supervision and surveillance for the unification of the community,s0 When we shift our gaze to the "first religious," the fathers of the desert (I think that we can trace the com-munal practice of obedience to this era), we see that for them obedience was one piece in a multitude of things which the ascetic had to be ready to assume in "leaving the world" to test his courage and strength against the temptations of the desert. The reason why this was de-manded was that the heart of an individual was so con-taminated by concupiscences of various kinds that he wo.uld be considered rash if in attempting to reach the perfection of the following of Christ he did not rely on or seek the direction of others in a spirit of humility. Obedience was considered as merely a kind of corollary of a frank soul testifying to its confidence in a spiritual master from whom advice was sought. It was an element of interior perfection and could almost have been re-duced to the practice of humility as a means of putting to death whatever was inordinate in the self-will of an individual. This desire to "follow Christ radically" was not what we often imz'gine it to be--a purely personal and inti-mate relationship with Christ. In the spirituality of the father of the monks, Antony, the "following of Christ" embraced a form that we would find extremely inter-esting today, Despite the apparent paradox, the imitation of Christ by the first hermits was essentially social. The first goal of those who gave themselves to this way of life was fraternal charity. And they were always pre-pared to see to its observance whenever khis was neces-sary. z~ Those who quickly gathered around Antony did so in an attempt to find the life of the primitive Church, a perfect fraternity, totally subject to the will of the as 2 Tim 4: I ft. 1~ Mt 28:19; 2 Cor 3:8--9. as I Pt 5:2 ft.; Acts 20:28. as Mk 10:42; Lk 22:25. ~o For all his insistence on the role of authority as ministry or service, Paul also referred to it as having power to make decisions; it is not simply a tool of the governed; see, for example, 1 Cor 7:10, 12,17; 2 Cor 10:8; 2 Th 3:9; Phm 8. The hierarchy has been es-tablished for service which includes teaching, ministry, and govern-ment. This service is in view of the community, in view of building up the Church to the glory of the Father. See P. Anciaux, L'dpiscopat darts l'Eglise (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1963), pp. 56-7. a Antony returned to Alexandria to serve the Christians perse-cuted for their faith and serving in the mines. 4. + + Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 163: ÷ ÷ C. A. Sehleek, C.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 164 Lord, moving in perfect unity and harmony towards the second coming. This trend was merely more fully in-tensified the more cenobitical these groups became. In the beginning when men came together to live in common, and to follow the teaching of a master and to incorporate themselves more completely into a com-munity of worship and love, the practice of obedience was not regulated by any positive or organic legislation 'as it is today. In fact from the juridical and moral view-point it is difficult to sa~ whether or not the first cenobites were even considered to have vowed obedience to a spiritual father. From all the documentary evidence we have at our disposal it would seem as though the prac-tice of vowed obedience came in with the advent of St. Benedict upon the monastic scene. Yet the practice of obedience for all, hermits and cenobites, appears to have always remained fundamentally the same in its ends or goals. It was always regarded as an instrument for achieving Christian perfection (1) by imitating the ex-ample of the Divine Redeemer and His sacrifice, and (2) by bringing all into unity to constitute a community of worship and love.22 These basic eler~en~s and motives which marked the obedience of the first "religious" should also mark the contemporary practice in religious communities of to-day. The love of Christ, the following of His obedience to the Father, the practice of faith and humility, the desire for ecclesial unity, all of these form the very heart and core of all religious obedience regardless of epoch, place or form, or embodiment. There is, however, one difference that seems to stand out rather clearly in comparing the practice of obedience of modern com-munities with that of their earlier counterparts. And tfiat is~ the functional character of the obedience of the former in contrast with the domestic character of the latter.2n There should be no astonishment at this difference once we consider the environment in which the Bene-dictine life was established. It was set up within the framework of the notion of the Roman paterfamilias who had a rather complete control over those subject to himself, not only the slaves and workers but even over the members of his own immediate family, his wife and his children. For Benedict there was first of all in the monastic ideal, obedience; in fact, we might say there was nothing but obedience. As the Prologu~ of' m R. Carpentier, S.J., "Vers une th~ologie de la vie religieuse," in La vie religieuse darts l'Eglise du Christ (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1964), pp. 65-71. m For these expressions, domestic and ]unctional, see J. Leclercq, The Religious Vocation (New York: Kenedy, 1955), pp. 134-5. the Rule states: "Hearken O my son, to the precept of your master, and incline the ear of your heart; willingly receive and faithfully fulfill the admonition of your loving Father, that you may return by the labor of obedience to Him from whom you had departed through the sloth of disobedience., so that renouncing your own will you will take Up the strong and bright weapons of obedience."~4 And again in Chapter 5 the Rule states: "Those who are impelled by the ardent desire of ascending to eternal life for that reason take the nar-row .way.n6t living by their own will or obeying their own desires and pleasures, they walk in accordance with the judgment and command of another; living in communities they desire to be ruled by an abbot." ~5 From the very beginning the Rule of St. Benedict speaks of the abbot who stands in the place of God. And after this it speaks of obedience, the first among the virtues, and of humility which begets obedience. Yet for all this emphasis on obedience, the Rule also indicates quite clearly its norm: the Rule itself. A very definite limitation was placed on the powers of the abbot, which is often forgotten. There was a sense in which the abbot had all the power, and there was another sense in which he had only that power given to him by the Rule. His mission was to make sure that the Rule was observed. But hd had no power to oblige any service not in accordance with the Rule. Moreover, Benedictine obedience was lived within the framework of the monastery. It was a kind of do-mestic obedience, to use an expression. It was obedience within the life of the family and was given to a superior who was always present. It was a hearkening to the voice of him who gave orders. It was an obedience that left what one was doing unfinished as soon as the voice made itself heard. Because it was domestic, Benedictine obedience was very profoundly human. In the monastery the relationship was that of person to person with the flexibility that is to be found in human relations. It did not have the more or less abstract character and regimentary appearance which it took on in later times due to its change in operation. This same interpersonal dimension of monastic or domestic obedience can be seen throughout Benedict's legislation as is evident from the following excerpts: Whenever any weighty matters are to be transacted in the monastery, let the abbot call together the whole community and make known the matter which is to be considered. Hav-ing heard the brethren's views let him weigh the matter with himself and do what he thinks best. It is for this reason that Prologue, Rule oI St. Benedict, § 1. Rule o] St. Benedict, Chapter 5. - 4. 4. ObedienCe VOLUME 25, 1966 165 REV1EWFOR RELigIOUS 166" we said that all should be called for counsel, because the Lord often reveals to the younger what is best. Let the brethren, however, give their advice with humble submission and let them not presume stubbornly to defend what seems right to them, for it must depend rather on the abbot's will so that all obey him in what he considers best. Bu~ as it becomes disciples to obey their master, so also it becomes the master' to dispose all things with prudence and justice. Therefore let all follow the Rule as their guide in everything, and let no one rashly depart from it . Let no one in the monastery follow the bent of his own heart, and let no one dare to dispute insolently with his abbot, either inside or outside the monastery. If any one dare do so, let" him be placed under the correction of the Rule . Let the abbot himself, however, do everything in the fear of the Lord, and out of reverence for the .Rule, knowing that beyond doubt he will have to give an account to God the most just Judge for all his rulings. If however, matters of'less importance having to do with the welfare of the monastery are to be treated of, let him use the counsel of the seniors only, as it is written: Do ~ill things with counsel, and thou shalt not. repent when thou hast done.~ From the moment when congregations or groups of men and women began to exercise apostolates and chari-table works that took them away from the immediacy of the monastery and the contemplative life, obedience began to. assume a different appearance. It became what we might call more functional in operation than do-mestic.: It began to center more and more around the beginnin~ of an action or task than around the actual manner in which it 'was to be carried out. We can say that it came into action when the course or activity was undertaken, leaving to the subject the manner in which it was to be carried out. The superior was free to fix the limits of the task but once the work was started, the religious was left free, at least to some extent, to follow his own initiative. Yet for all this personal initiative on the part of the subject, the entire work and not merely the task assigned was said to come under obedi-ence. I suppose that we find this practice of obedience rather clearly crystallized in the Jesuit approach to this element of religious life. Wishing to form men for service to the Church in all and every circumstance of its life and needs, Ignatius abandoned many forms and observances which were characteristic up to that time. In regard to obedience he attempted to give his fol-lowers a personal formation that would enable them to preserve their religious character and ideals without many of the external supports that were found in the monastic version of the religious life. His religious were to have such a strong character formation that they would be able to manage without any support, would undertake any responsibility, and would remain faithful ~ Rule of St. Benedict, Chapte~ 5 and 3. to their vocation under any and all circumstances by reason of the depth of their interior life. Yet they would be so trained in obedience that they could be en-trusted with or relieved of any function or activity at any given moment or sent to the ends of the earth with-out previous warning or explanation. As we can see, such obedience might seem to be less human to a certain extent, less interpersonal than that of the monastic version.2~ Yet it is not less radically detached. In fact, it is even more detached than that of the monastic type. For a Jesuit, ideally, can have no other attachment .than to the will of God and to His glory which is represented by an obedience the object of which is frequently that of undertaking rather serious responsibilities. He must be ready for every responsibility and yet at the same time be ready to give up without delay or discussion work to which he may have devoted, himself unreservedly for years. And quite recently Pope Pius XII asked them to continue to form their men in this same spirit of obedi-ence. 2s This form of functional obedience has been the state-ment of this practice of the religious life for most reli-gious communities since the arrival of the Jesuits. The only other development that has come on the scene in recent years is its statement or expression within the framework of secular institutes. Here a more free type of obedience is exercised, but basically it would seem to be merely an extension of the functional obedience which we have just described, From this it should be clear that evangelical obedience or religious obedience as well can be and has been em-bodied in different expressions or statements. These are or have been brought on by the demands of the Church peculiar to different epochs. Yet as we shall see later on in ~ Ignatius was quite understanding of his religious. When Father Nadal entered the Society at about the age of thirty-five Ignatius gave him a particularly pleasant room, had him dine with himself frequently, took him out walking, and chatted with him quite fre-quently. When. asked why, he answered that a temperament like Nadal's had to be treated with a soft touchl It is also recorded of him that he said on one occasion: "I have a great desire for a general indifference in all; and so presupposing obedience and ab-negation on the part o[ the subject, I find it very good to ]ollow his inclinations." When he wished to send one out to study or to a distant assignment or give him some rather heavy task he examined the person to find out what he was most inclined to; and then, if he found an obedient man, accommodated himself to his inclina-tions. See E. Polit, S.J., Per[ect Obedience (Westminster: Newman, 1947), p. 160. ~ Address to the General Congregation, 1957: "The form of gov-ernment in the Society is monarchical and is embodied in the de-cisions of a single superior" (The States oI PerIection, ed. G. Courtois [Westminster: Newman, 1962], p. 300). ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 167 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the article, for all these different expressions, in essence. and in its fundamental .outlines the practice of obedi-ence in all institutes of perfection remains the same. Its theology has in no wise changed.29 For all the cornerstone force, for all the excellence ~which the practice of. obedience has in the long tradition of the life of the counsels, there is no problem which present~ so many and so varied difficulties in our con-temporary religious life. I believe that if we were .to analyze the problem, trying to get at its roots or sources whence these difficulties come, we would find them to be several: the spirit of our times; certain trends in spiritu-ality, certain embodiments of authority and obedience,. and a misunderstanding of the theology of obedience. Each of these demands something of an explanation. Firstof all there is the "spirit of our times," or the civilization and historical epoch in which we live. This is characterized by an ever growing democratization of men and institutions. In such an environment the ideal that seems to be uppermost for many is that of "team. Work" or fraternal collaboration or a "democratic obedi-ence," in which if there is any authority whatsoever, this authority comes from the group in such a way that the leader more or less merely interpre~ or reflects the consensus or the mind of the group 'and acts as their spokesman .and is responsible before them. In fact, the idea that there can be an authority that comes from God rather than from the g~oup, an authority which-is superior to a group even though serving it and ordered to the common good, an authority that is not merely a servile instrument but the sign of ruling that is the power of the kingdom of God, an authority that is a service responsible primarily to God, all this is rather difficult for the youth coming to us today to under-stand. So Moreover, the spirituality of our day with its marvel-ous possession of a deeper psychological understanding of the workings of men and women, its recognition of ~Much of the current agitation regarding obedience and au-thority--- often generating more heat than light in our era of "stress writing"--is really an attempt to recover various aspects of this institution already found in previous embodiments; for exam, ple, (1) the dialogue" and communication ideal of Benedictine monasticism; (2) the functional ideal of the Society of Jesus; (3) the authority-service ideal of the New Testament. Bu( when any ~f these aspects is stressed (and the same is true of abnegation) so that it is seen outside of the total context of obedience-authority, it can cause a myopia which is disastrous to the overall picture. It is this exaggerated preoccupation with one or other element of obedience-authority out of due proportion that-is causing many of our problems today. .~Paul'VI, Address to the General Audience, July 14, 1965, NCWC Documentary News Service. man's intelligence, its cult of the dignity of the human person, its insistence on man's initiative and free re-sponse to God ir; facing the tasks of life, all this has set of[ without intending to, of course, a reaction against obedience and authority, at least for the moment, rather than a perfecting and balancing of it as originally in-tended. Again, a study of history shows quite clearly that down through the centuries there have been dit~erent .embodiments or statements of authority even within the Church. And this same study will show that some of the images of authority in history are not always faithful to its God-intended purpose and, therefore, not very felici-tous and certainly not to be clung to or defended,sl As a result of thes~facts and trends, the charge has been resounding for over ten years that obedience, espe-cially religious obedience, imperils the human dignity of the person, that it hampers or even goes counter to the development of human personality, that it stands be-tween him and God or interferes with his immediate and direct~relationship with God, that it creates weak and passive spirits not capable of meeting the chal-lenges of our times, that it affords a haven where persons afraid to face the world or assume responsibility can come to anchor. It is also argued that corpse-like obedi-ence is not even human, let alone religious. For human obedience should place all the capacities of man at the service of obedience. Consequently, it must be active and intelligent. While passive obedience (the kind so often reflected in the older ascetical writings usually intended for novices and contemplative religious) might be fitting for a very young child (although even this is questioned) since it is not yet capable of using its reason fully, the case of the adult is quite different. The latter's obedience must be mature, therefore, active and intelligent; otherwise it goes counter to the very nature of the human person. And so the plea has been raised again and again: more independence, initiative, and responsibility must be given to subjects. Efficiency can be achieved only when as much discretion and liberty as possible is left to sub-ordinate members. Professionals within the Church will do their best work in a situation where they have as much freedom and self-respect as possible. Thus, au-thority today must be exercised in a much more "fra- ~ Ibid.: "Experience and history offer us a unique picture of the images of authority which are not always faithful and not always happy ones. It is necessary to deepen the idea of the authority of the Church, to purify it of forms which are not essential to it (even if in given circumstances they we're legitimate, for example, temporal power) and to return to its original and Christian prin-ciple." Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 169 + 4. 4. C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 170 ternal,' sort of way, that is, in a way that is characterized by stable and purposeful involvement at.each level.32 It is because this has not been true enough in past years that we face a "crisis," not so much in regard to obedi-ence as rather in regard to authority today.3~ This is obviously only a very brief amalgam of the various ideas being circulated today. And what lends color and force to them is the fact that some of these things can and do happen and certainly have happened both in the Church and in religious communities even though they perhaps have happened elsewhere and are happening elsewhere in greater proportion. "Experience and history offer us images of authority which are not always faithful and are not always happy ones." a4 These gources of difficulty have given rise to still another, one more basic and fundamental and more crucial---the theological principles involved in the prac-tice of obedience. These are sometimes rather poorly misunderstood or distorted, not willingly or intentionally to be sure, but simply by over-preoccupation or concen-tration on some elements to the neglect of others. And one thing is certain--we are not allowed to exaggerate one element of a rather complex reality out of due proportion. If we do, we simply shift our error to an-other side. To avoid tilting at windmills we would do well to go back to the basic principles involved in the practice of obedience. This is necessary for both su-periors and subjects. On the one hand, religious obedi- =A. Greeley, "Fraternal Authority in the Church," Homiletic and Poztoral Review, v. 64 (1963-4), pp. 563-5. Some would go so far as to suggest a liberation from every form of juridical prescrip-tion by substituting the simple law of charity and reducing rules to an indispensable minimum. The problem is a minimum for what vocation and function in the Church? =As Father Gambari remarked: "Some think religious are less inclined to obey today. I do not think that this can be said without any qualification. There is a great generosity and spirit of sacrifice among them, and a deep desire to work for the good of their neighbor. But they do wish to obey with greater liberty, spon-taneity and intelligence. They are anxious to base their obedience on reason, not in the sense that they will obey only if the motives and scope of the command are reasonable but rather in the sense that the problem of obedience is seen in a little different light. In the past obedience was presented and practised with insistence on the negative aspect of self-renunciation or death to one's own will. Today we speak of obedience as perfecting the religious. Thus youth wish to seek in obedience the means of becoming associated to the action of God . Again it is true that religious wish Su-periors who do not only hold authority from God, but who know how to use it as God Himself does. It is this which lies at the basis of so much discussion of the following topics: obedience and formalism; obedience and liberty; authority and liberty; obedience and peisonality development; obedience and personal initiative and responsibility" (Proceedings o] 1958 Sisters" Institute o] Spirituality [Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1959], pp. 137, 150-1). ~ Paul VI, Address to the General Audience, July 14, 1965. ence will be retarded in its spiritual effects to the degree that its theology is not known or is neglected. A superior cannot govern properly unless she understands why obedience confirmed by v6w enjoys the place it always has had in religious life. On the other~ hand, a religious subject will obey .constantly with spiritual profit to herself, the commufiity, and the Church and in an adult manner to the extent that she is convince~n all levels of her personality, intellectual, emotional, social and spiritualZ-of the reasons for the existence, practice, and importance of obedience in her state of life. The real question will then be seen to be not whether there is to be authority and obedience, but whether the cur-rent ways of exercising it are suited to the present condi-tion of the Church. As Pope Paul mentioned: "It is necessary to deepen the idea of authority in the Church, to purify it of forms which are not essential to it (even if in given circumstances they were legitimate, such as, for example temporal power) and to return it to its original and Christian principles." 35 ~ The danger in periods like our own where there is much questioning even to the point of a liberating disobedience is that the very foundations of an institu-tion will be weakened. Yet 'I believe that if we know how to read the designs of providence correctly, we can ~?egard this questioning as an invitation to advance and to grasp more firmly the foundations which might seem to be threatened and to use the very difficulties them-selves as an occasion to commit ourselves all the more profoundly to our own religious dedication. In this way both superiors and subjects will come out of these diffi-culties more deeply rooted and more fully developed. To live in the light it is usually necessary to pass through dark nights136 The treatment that I will follow in ,. approaching this problem or topic will be quite similar to that which was followed in regard to poverty and virginity: (1) obedi-ence in general; (2) what religious obedience adds to the practice of obedience in general; (3) the aims of religious obedience; (4) the qualities of religious obedience; (5) the fruits of religious obedience; and (6) some practical suggestions. The Virtue of Obedience in General The nature of obedience as a virtue might well be defined as follows: a natural or supernatural (dependi-ng upon its source and objective) disposition or bent or ~ Ibid, ~See J. Laplace, S.J., "Education to Obedience," in Religious Obedience ,and the Exercise o! Authority, "Donum Dei," v. 3 (Ottawa, Canada: Canadian Religious Conference, 1961), p. 68. (Hereafter this work will be cited as "Donum Dei" 3.) Obedience VOLUME'25, 1966 . 171. C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS inclination or, better still, per[ectant of the faculty of the will which disposes a person to habitually submit himseff or herself to another's decision in reference to ¯ those things or areas in which this other has authority or decision-making power over one.~7 For example, in civil or domestic matters, a mayor or a governor or a president or a father or a mother has authority and ~The idea of virtue occupies a central position in moral and spiritual theology. A virtue is a dynamism or perfectant which does not create some automatic reflex type of reaction in situations. This would diminish the moral tonality of the action. No, a virtue is a good perfectant or dynamism that is operalive. It gives" the capacity for a power of action to accomplish the maximum of what it can accomplish. It is an active quality or perfectant that disposes one to produce the maximum of what he can on the moral and spiritual level. A natural virtue is acquired by the repetition of interior acts of the intellect and the will and therefore demands human effort. It is marked by the following qualities: (1) It is a constant disposi-tion of person. The repetition of victory over the passional dynam-ism or the other faculties, the will for example, on the part of the intelligence and reason engenders in the person a certain mastery which nothing can destroy save a change in the will of the individ-ual. (2) It gives promptitude and facility in action. This is the effect of the perfect ordination and unification of the interior principles of action of man where each elemeut enjoys its proper role. The reason and the will command and direct, and the sensibility obeys their impulse making its own contribution. It does away with the internal dissension that could so"easily destroy its function. (3) It gives joy in action, a triumphant joy that issues from the creation of a personal perfection. (4) It is acquired by education, respecting the personality of the persoia concerned. (5) It very often requires thee help o[ another and of discipline. We must insist more on the necessity of education to natural virtue, for it is only the intense presence o~: these ~perfectants and dynamisms in our human per-sonality that will make possible and facilitate the exercise of the so-called infused virtues given with grace. Today there is an excess of personal[sin rather current. Under the pretext of respecting the personality o17 another one does not dare intervene in his moral formation, for to do so would be to impose constraints on him; there is rejected any and all discipline which would impose itself on him, this being prompted by the apparently liberal project of leaving free play to the spontaneity of the individual, of placing entire confidence in the personality of each one. What happens is that'one often abandons others, especially the young, to themselves and their inexperience. One leaves them to the winds of moral mal-formation, to a spiritual life that is rather superficial, subjected to incessant agitation and changes of sentiments that are without much real depth. So many of those advocating this type ol: new formation were just a few years back the most rigid of personalities. This in itself should make us a little cautiotis in regard to any wholesale adoption of this thinking. Education to virtue is a difficult task and a complex one. It exacts the employment of authority and a pro-found respect for those one is educating, much understanding and finesse, and a firm will. One must beware of abusing authority and ofa liberalism which neglects its use: Only intelligent and prudent love for the one being educated will permit the discovery of this formula. See S. Pinckaers, O.P., "La vertu est tout autre chose qu'uhe habitude," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 82 (1960), pp. 387- 403. decision-making power over those under him or her in relation to certain actions. Obedience, therefore, is a natural or supernatural perfectant of the will which makes a person prompt in fulfilling the decisions of the one entrusted with this duty and service. By its very ¯ nature, negatively speaking, it involves a surrender of one's will, in a sense, in a given area of action. It means submission to another and implies a risk. For it means the channeling of efforts and energies in the direction marked out by the one charged with the de-cision- making, and this could go contrary to one's per-sonal tastes.and inclinations. As a result the practice of obedience requires submission to the command of another, inability to exercise, independent choice con-trary to the command given; therefore, it implies an evident restriction of freedom in action. If we concentrate only on these negative implications (and necessary ones to be sure)of obedience, it would be easy for us to conclude that some of the objections mentioned above are correct. Obedience could be seen merely as an obstacle to .self-fulfillment, to personal de-velopment; it could be viewed as a violation of personal dignity, even perhaps a kind of profanation of the charismatic spirit which is in each one to lead him to his or her perfection. For this reason, it is all the more necessary to see the positive side of the virtue of obedi-ence, and that is that it is a free and voluntary giving or snrrender or submission of one's person (will) to the decision-making duty and service (command) of a.: su-perior or one charged with the common good. As such, it is an action very much in conformity with our human dignity and self-mastery and quite capable of leading to our self-fulfillment, especially when it is motivated cor-rectly by the spirit of love. The basis of obedience is the very structure of society which requires authority at the service of the com-munity or the common good. This is God-willed and God-intended. There exists no authority except from God.as As John Chrysostom explains this: "Does this mean that every ruler is appointed by God? I do not say that, for I am not dealing now with individual rulers but with authority itself. What I say is that it is the divine wisdom and not mere chance that has or-dained that there should be government, that some should command and others obey." 29 God has willed that in the plan of leading men back ,to Himself ulti-mately, some should be subject to others, not because of any superiority of talent necessarily, whether this be intellectual or spiritual or social or administrative, but ~ Rom 13:1. ~In Epist. ad Rom., c. 13, hom. 23, P.G., v. 60, col. 615. Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 . A. SchlCec.$k.,~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS merely because God has given one person authority or decision-making power over others, even though He may .have done 'this using very human means and per-sons and even political maneuvering to designate this person. Authority is not to be thought a~ lacking all control. Since it is the power to decide or command according to right reason, it must derive its obligatory force from the moral order which has God for its firgt source and final end. If it can oblige men in conscience it is only because it is intrinsically related with the authority of God and shares in it. By this principle the dignity of men is protected. "As men they are equal (and as Christians also, if they are such), but as superior and inferior they are not equal, they are not on the same plane. To one God has given the service of commanding in the realization of His will and to others He has given the service of obeying. When in fact men obey their lawfully constituted rulers when "they rightfully exercise their authority, it is not at all men they obey. "It is God," as Pope John pointed out, "the provident Creator of all things whom they rever-ence. through their obedience, since He has decreed that men's dealings with one another should be regu-lated, by an order which He Himsdf has established. And in showing this due reverence to God, we do not debase ourselves, but rather perfect and ennoble our-selves. For to serve God is to rule." 40 Since the right to command is required by the moral order and has its source in God, it follows that if au-thority (eVen civil) legislates for or allows anything that is contrar)~ to that order and therefore contrary to th~ will of God, neither the laws made nor the authoriza-tions granted can be binding on the consciences of the citizens, since we must obey God 'rather than men. If this were not so, then autho~:ity would break down com-pletely and would result in or be open to shameful abuse. The net result of this would be the degradation of the human person.41 Obedience, then, does not regard so much the persoh in authority as rather the authority of the person in charge. For obedience is given not so much to a per-son as rather to a norm or set of societal laws or rules or norms or constitutions which this authority is called upon to safeguard. Yet to a certain extent obedience is given also to a person, that is, to God who incarnates Himself in this' set, of expressions when they fulfill the definition of law: an ordinance of reason established for ~o Pacem in terris, America Press edition, § 50, p. 18; also, §§ 46-9, pp. 17-8. ~a Ibid., § 51, p. 18. the common good, promulgated by one who has rightful authority.42 From what we have seen, it. should be evident that the purpose of authority is the common good; in fact, this comes from the very etymology of the word. It is derived from the Latin word "augere" which means to increase or foster or enlarge. It is. of the very nature of anyone in authority to make decisions and move people about or command their wills but only in the interest of the common good. Thus, the motivating force behind one in authority cannot be merely the good of the individual member but rather the overall common good of the group or society over which he or she has charge. This end, of course, does not exclude the good of the individual either. Rather it includes it, since the indi-vidual pertains to the group as a part pertains to the whole. Authority exists for the sake of those over whom it is set. It is a service to God and to th~ community and to the individual member of this community. As Pope John mentioned: Indeed since the whole reason for the existence of civil authorities is the realization of the common good, it is clearly necessary that in pursuing this objective, they should respect its essential elements, and at the same time conform their laws to the needs of a given historical situation . For the common good is intimately bound up with human nature. It can never exist fully and completely unless its intimate nature and realization being what they are, the human person is taken into account.~ Authority is established to develop and lead to per-fection and fulfillment the self-respect of the group and of each individual member of the group, to impress upon the group as well as each individual member the per-sonality which is proper to it and to them, a personality which is determined by the end or purpose for which the society exists. It is not set up to be an opportunity to exercise a lordship or dominion, or to receive respect or reverence or service. It is a ministry unto unity, even while it fosters diversity. It can readily be seen that excessive severity or ri-gidity on the part of authority originates from a false idea. It comes most often from an over-estimation of oneself on the part of the one in authority, or from pedagogical incompetence, or from the inability to han-dle individual persons, or perhaps even from some sense of inferiority in the face of the subordinates one has ' to command. It is for one or more of these reasons that ~ This point would seem to have some relevance for women since modern psychology reveals that often they find it somewhat more difficult to abstract from the concrete person involved in superior-subject relationships. ~ Pacem in terris, §§ 54-5, pp. 19-20. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 175 ÷ ÷ ÷ C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS authority often ends up?by having to work at a distance from its subjects rather than in close collaboration with them and leadership of them; and in so doing it fails to accomplish the full perfection df the task that is assigned to it--the bringing out in the society and the individual members¯ of it the personality or the personalities that are proper to it.44 While ,the initial success of obedience rests on the wise and efficient Use of authority---on government ac-cording to reason rather than merely by will--still it can also be said that the ultimate success of this institu-tion and the realization of the common good rests upon the harmonious cooperation and collaboration of those who are subject to this authority. Individuals and inter-mediate groups are obliged to make their specific contri-butions to the common welfare. Thus, one of the chief consequences of this is that these individuals or groups must bring their own interests into harmony with the needs o] the community, and they must dispose of their goods and of their services as the legitimate authorities prescribe in.accord with the norms of justice and within the limits or, their competence.4~ It is on!y in that society or community in which each member consents to do his part, and all his part, and nothing but his part (that is, not interfering with others) that everything will be correctly done. Such is true of the workings of the human body, and.~such, is true of the' working of an orchestra. For only when each one executes faithfully what is on the sheet of music before him will the entire piece be a perfect success. If one of the members of the orchestra departs from the score, not harmony but cacophony and discord will result. While it is true that not all the parts o(the orchestra have equally exciting or exhilarating functions to play, .still each of them has to be performed correctly it the end ot the orchestra is going to be achieved. There are some per-sons who play a.ll the time, and there are 'others who play only an occasional note here and there throughout the entire piece. Yet it this occasional note, small as it is in comparison with the whole, is not played exactly when and where it is to be played, the overall beauty of the music would be marred. Granted it is not very enticing or alluring to have to count out measure after meas6re without doing anything active, still each mere-a By "personality" I mean the'harmonious development of all the human and supernatural qualities of a person in subordination to the common good, to God, the lesser good being subordinated to the greater good. So understood, there is no conflict between the personality and obedience. There will at times be need for re-nunciation by an individual or small group, but this will be asked for the common good. See "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 194-5. ~ Pacem in teriis, § 53, p. 19. ber of the orchestra knows that this inconvenience must be endured, since the concert is not merely for th~ players but for the audience listening to it. A similar thing is true in the case of any society. F6r the good of the society is attained only when those under authority perfectly fulfill the tasks and offices and duties to which they are assigned--and as human beings---and when authority learns to utilize the experience and training and talents of those it commands in reference to the community endeavor. Thus, the power of au-thority can be defined as a power of cooi:dination guaranteeing the unity of a communitary plurality;, but. only in proportion to the consciousness with which each member of the community lives his function will the unity actually be achieved.46 From this it should be clear that a true concept of obedience and its correlative authority is far from the limited distortion so often emphasized in "stress writ-ing" today. It is a positive force for the fulfillment of men and women, of persons, but within the sphere of community as well as within the sphere of their, private world. A community in which the members have the proper respect for those in authority and willingly and intelligently carry out their specific functions and roles must necessarily be one in which tranquility reigns.4~ Authentic obedience liberates a person once and for all from his personal instability, sentimentality, and blind passions. It is a free and voluntary option which leaves the spirit open and receptive to many values which pre-sent themselves. The person who never makes such a choice and who never commits himself is less open, less broad-minded than one who has anchored his life to an obedience, seeing his life in and through it as a building directed by God. Yet for all this, such a relationship~ obedience-authority---does involve a struggle, one that includes very painful aspects because it disturbs very deep desires in men who are not as yet totally harmonized and humanized by the power of Christ's redeeming grace. Religious Obedience: What It Adds to Obedience in General Today it is most important that we show that obedi-ence is universal in character and belongs to the very life of the Church. It is, therefore, not entirely correct to call it the virtue of the monk "or of the religious. For obedience in a sense is just as absolute and obligatory for the layman as for the monk or religious even though ~A. Paoli, "Obedience," Cross Currents, v. 15 (1965), pp. 284-5. ~J. Aumann, "Current Trends," Cross and Crown, v. 17 (1965), pp. 347-8. Obedience " VOLUME 25, '1966 177 4. C. A. Schleck, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 178 there¯ are differences. This absoluteness of obedience even for the layman stems from the universal vocation of all who are baptized to holiness of life.48 Yet for all this we do find differences, in fact differences which serve to establish one in a different way of life within the Church. As Pope Paul mentioned in a recent allocution: It has seemed good to Us to recall here the priceless im-portance and necessary function of religious life; for this state of life which receives its distinctive character from profession of the evangelical counsels is a perfect way of life according to the example and teaching of Jesus Christ, especially since it is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity leading to final perfection. In other ways of life the specific ends, advantages, and functions, though legitimate in them- ¯ selves, are of a temporal character . Hence it follows that the profession of the evangelical vows is an augmentation of that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is a kind of special consecration which perfects the former one inasmuch as by it the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.'~ When we come to determine these differences more precisely we would find them to be especially three: (1) it extends the practice of obedience; (2) it changes the end or, perhaps better, affects the end for which one obeys; and (3) it places us in a more direct contact with the will of God, than does life outside religion (this has to be understood cautiously). First, religious obedience extends the control of Church authority over the person who freely and voluntarily enters a religious society. For by entering, a woman freely, and let us hope joyfully, gives to the persons of her superiors and their decision-making power even that legitimate freedom of action and movement with regard to time and exterior lif~ which she enjoyed in the world. Consequently, the obligation or the moral imperative of the virtue of obedience is extended also ,s Paul VII Magno gaudio affecti, May 23, 1964; English trans-lation, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 23 (1964), p. 699. But especially see the Constitution on the Church of Vatican Council II, Chapter 5 (English translation, REVIEW FO~ RELIGIOUS, V. 24 [1965], pp. 707-- ~ Paul VI, Magno gaudio affecti, as cited in the preceding foot-note. This difference is also indicated in the Constitution on the Church: "Since it is necessary thfft His followers should always imi-tate and give testimony to this charity and humility of Christ, the Church rejoices that there are to be found within her many men and women who closely follow and clearly show forth the self-emptying of the Savior, doing this by assuming poverty in the spirit of the freedom of the children of God and by renouncing their own wills. For the sake o[ God and with respect to what pertains to per-fection they make themselves subject to a man, going beyond the measure o[ what is commanded in order to be more lully con]ormed to the obedient Christ" (Chapter 5; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. v. 24 [1965], pp. 712-3). to meet these new acts which religious authority can now command according to the norms of the particular society or community involved. For as we mentioned above, a religious vows or promises obedience primarily to God within the framework of a society and its particu-lar or peculiar norm of life rather than to a person, even though the two ~ire in a sense identified whenever the person in authority commands according to the norm. In fact, it is this very extension of obedience which makes religious commitment today the difficult thing that it is for so many young girls. As Pius XII remarked in an address to the International Congress for the States of Perfection in 1950: If the number of candidates wishing to enter the enclosed gardens of the religious life is diminishing, especially among young women, the reason very frequently is that they find it difficult to divest themselves of their own judgment and sur-render their [reedom o[ action, as the very nature of the vow of obedience demands. Indeed some praise as the real peak of moral perfection, not the surrender of liberty for the sake of the love of Christ, but the curbing of such surrender. The norm to be preferred in the formation of a just and holy person would seem to be this: restrict liberty only where necessary; otherwise, give liberty free rein as far as possible. We by-pass the question whether this new foundation on which some are trying to build the edifice of sanctity will be as effective and as solid in supporting and augmenting the apostolic work of the Church as was the one which through fifteen hundred years has been provided by that ancient rule of obedience undertaken for the love of Christ. What is now of supreme importance is to examine this proposal thoroughly to disclose what lies concealed beneath the surface. This opinion, if care-fully considered not only fails to appreciate the nature of the evangelical counsel but it somehow twists it to a meaning in accord with its theory. No one is obliged to choose for himself the counsel of perfect obedience, which essentially is a rule of life whereby one surrenders the control of his own will. No one, we repeat, be it an individual or a group. They can if they wish conform to this new rule. But words must be under-stood and accepted according to .their obvious meaning, and if this norm is compared with the vow of obedience it surely does not possess the same supreme value, nor is it an adequate expression of the wonderful example recorded in Holy Scrip-ture: "He humbled Himself becoming obedient unto death." ~0 He therefore is himself deceived and deceives others who forgetting the propensities of the soul and the inspiration of divine grace, offers as a guide to one seeking advice about en-tering the religious state only that new norm. Hence if it is clear that the voice of God is calling someone to the heights of evangelical perfection without any hesitation he should be invited for the attainment of this lofty purpose to offer freely the sacrifice of his liberty as the vow of obedience demands, that vow, We proclaim, which the Church has through so many centuries weighed, has put to the test, has properly delineated and has approved. Let no one against his will be compelled to Phil 2:8. ÷ ÷ ÷ ObedienCe VOLUME 25, 1966 1'/9 ÷ ÷ C. A. $chleck, C.$.C. REVIEW,FOR REL]G|OU$ 180 this self-consecration; but if he does will it, let no one counsel him against it; above all let no one hold him bacL= Moreover, the end to Which the superiors of a re-ligious community are to lead the one presenting her-self to it is not merely a natural end, such as is true at least proximately of a natural society. The first or pri-mary role and duty of religious superiors is to lead their members or subordinates to intimate communion and union wiih God through the perfection of love or charity by way o~ personal assimilation and expression. No human society has this as its direct and primary end, whereas a religious society does not exist and can-not exist except ~or this purpose.~2 Thus the primary end of religious communities is to lead their members to "seek God solely and before anything else," 53 and this by the profession of the vows, especially that of obedience which is the most important and which in a sense in-cludes the others since we vow obedience to the consti-tutions which include the practice of the other two vows. And finally, religious obedience puts a subject into more direct and immediate contact with the will of God than any other framework of life. This was certainly the thought of Benedictine monasticism which regarded the abbot as the one who took the place of God ~or the monk so long as the abbot commanded according to the norms of the monastic community. And it also seems to be the normally accepted thinking of the magister-ium. In speaking to major superiors in 1958, Plus XII pointed out the place which religious superiors have in regard to the government of the Church: Beloved sons who by the suave designs of God's providence have been placed in .command of your members engaged in the quest of perfection, gathered as you are in Our presence, it is with uncommon joy that We salute you in the name of the Lord, as men chosen to be associated with Us--and in no mean capacity--in Our apostolic office. For as We said a few years ago in speaking to your members at the first General Congress of the States of Perfection, the religious state "has its existence and strength from its intimate connection with the end of the Church herself, which is to lead men to the attainment of holiness." And the Church, the Spouse of Christ, would not fully correspond to His will, nor would the eyes of men be raised to her in hope as to a "standard set up unto the nations" if there were not found in her some who, more by example than by word, are especially resplendent with the beauty of the Gospel. In this department of Our work, therefore, beloved Sons, We have taken you as associates of Our supreme o~ce, either directly by delegating to you through the Code of Canon ~ Canon Law Digest for Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 91-2. ~ See footnote 49. The specific end of marriage is not.perfection or charity, at least so it would seem from this statement. ~ See Vatican Council II, Decree on Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Lile, nos. 5--6; NCWC Documentary Service. Law some share of Our supreme jurisdiction, or by laying the foundations of your so-called "dominative power" by Our ap-proval of your rules and Constitutions. And so We have it very much at heart that you should exercise this authority of yours according to Our mind and that of the Church. It is with clear vision and turning neither to right nor to the left that Superiors should lead their subjects securely to eternal life by the safe way of truth, with firm leadership and if necessary with a strong hand. To quote the patriarch of those who, in the Western world, str~ve for evangehcal perfectmn: The A hot should neither teach nor establish nor command anything that is outside the teaching of the Lord.''~ It is because religious superiors in some way share in ecclesiastical authority that when they command in keeping with the norms of this authority they place us in contact with the will of God. This is why Pius had also a year previously rejected the argument against re-ligious obedience drawn from the alleged fact that the dependence of a religious upon his superior was con-trary to the supreme and direct dominion of God over conscience: To insist that a man depend on another even as to his personal life and activity--is not this to confer on the superior prerogatives which belong onl)~ to God? The Church has never defended nor approved such a contention. She regards obedi-ence as a means of leading man to God. Since the motive which inspires it is union with God and since the final aim of obedi-ence is growth in charity, the superior is by no means an obstacle standing between God and the subject and arrogating to himself the homage which is directed only to God. The superior can command only in the name of God and in virtue of the powers entrusted to him, and the subject is bound to obey only for the love of Christ, not for any motives of human advantage or convenience--and much less by mere constraint. Thus he will preserve even in the most complete submission the eager joy of renewing each day concretely his total consecration to the one supreme Master . Let us first recall the words of our Savior: "Come to me all you who labor and are burdened, and I will refresh you . Learn of me because I am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest for your souls." ~ If our Lord thus invites men to take up His yoke, it is to teach them that beyond mere legal observance, which easily be-comes burdensome and hard to bear, they are to discover the meaning of true submission and Christian humility. Far [rom offending the dignity of one who submits, this will give him in-terior liberty and show him how to accept his state of subjec-tion, not as a constraint from without, but as a surrender of himself into the hands of God, whose will is expressed through the visible authority of those whose mission it is to command. The Superior for his part will use his powers in the same evangelical spirit: "He that is the greater among you, let him become the younger; and he that is leader as he that serves." ~ From this it should be clear that the superior has as ~ Allocution to Major Superiors, February 11, 1958; Canon Law Digest ]or Religious, v. 1, pp. 194-5. ~ Mt 11:28-9. ~Lk 22:26. See also the Address to the States o] Per]ection, December 9, 1957; Canon Law Digest for Religious, v. 1, pp. 132, 130. 4" 4" 4" Obedience VOLUME 25, 1"966' ' 181 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS her function the apostolic duty of mediating God's will to human minds. It is because she is the instrument whom God uses to make known His will to the sub-ject that she has the duty to listen to God herself, to seek the will of God and the directives of the Spirit in regard to the subject, even using the subject's communi-cation to her in seeking this out. If the subject is ex-pected to see Christ in her superior, then the superior also is expected to see Christ in the subject, for she is a member of the Body of Christ. As Christians they are equal, and it is possible for the subject to receive cer-tain lights and directives from the Holy Spirit.5~ Yet even these are subject to the final decision of those in authority when authority acts within its powers. Con-sequently, it is the duty of the subject to accept the fact that when authority has issued a command, it has also been listening to God's word and is not merely issuing a command for the exercise of power. With all this in mind it should be quite easy to grasp the statement that in a way the problem of obedience is simpler for the subject than for the superior. As far as the subject is concerned, obedience enjoys a kind of infallibility, such that the subject is never wrong in obeying when the superior operates within the limits of her powers. This, of course, has to be understood cor-rectly. A distinction must be made between the proxi-mate end and the remote end of a law. It is quite possible that in reference to the proximate end, the de-cision of the superior is not always the best. Yet with regard to the remote or ultimate end, this decision trans-mits infalliblY the will of God and the subject cannot make any mistake in obeying it. In giving a command or making a decision it is the general policy of superiors to be pursuing a proximate end or an immediate and definite purpose. A superior for example may give a, sub-ject a directive aimed at helping the subject improve in some area of her teaching or nursing. In such matters it is quite possible for the superior to make a mistake. ¯ She can tell the subject to take a certain kind of exercise and the subject incapacitates herself from doing ttiis. In regard to this, then, the immediate or proximate end, the superior can be quite fallible. But we can also con-sider the superior's decision in relation to its remote li:'l; end: to reveal to the subject the will of God in her re-gard, And this particular will of God is merely a part o[ the total plan of divine providence and government of mankind. ~We have a rather darkened and limited intellect and our range of vision is quite small. Thus we could very mVatican Council II, Constitution on the Church, Chapter 2, n. 12; R~vmw FOR RELmIOUS, V. 24 (1965), pp. 677-8. easily be mistaken when we pass judgment on some event or other. We can look at it as a failure when in reality it has many further nuances. We must remember that the total plan of God is a supremely harmonious one in which every detail is wisely provided for, willed or permitted by God. We see only a part of the overall plan and may easily think that talents and so on are quite wasted. Yet from God's viewpoint everything is quite clear and well ordered, and every detail is ac-cording to His plan. Thus an action decided on by a superior may very well result in failure on the human plane. In relation to its ultimate end, however,, it is willed or permitted, by God. Thus what seems a failure to our human shortsightedness is really a part of the great harmonious plan of God. And in this long-range view the apparent failure which contributes to the har-mony of the overall design is really a success. Thus the subject, failing according to our human approach and view through her obedience, is always fulfilling the authentic will of God. She contributes to the realization of the total divine plan and therefore cannot make a mistake. Her union with the divine will is infallible, in this sense. This does not mean that the superior cannot make a mistake in commanding or deciding. Far from it. It is possible in commanding or deciding that the stiperior gives evidence of incompetence, or ignorance, or pre-cipitation, or anger, even of malice. And we cannot pos-sibly consider any of these virtuous actions. It can be from the superior's point of view a mistake and even a sin, even a grave sin. But unless the superior commands a sinful action, the duty of the subject is to obey.as Thus the principle that we have been attempting to show still holds. The subject enjoys a kind of infallibility in the practice of obedience, which the superior does not necessarily enjoy. It is the great St. Teresa who was so convinced of this that she wrote: "Suppose the confes-sor makes a mistake, the safest way for a religious is to follow his direction exactly, even .though an angel of the Lord may have spoken to her (indicating a different direction). For our Lord will either enlighten his min, ister or arrange matters in such a way that this soul will not fail in obeying." 59 It is precisely the role of the vow of obedience to permit us to conform our will to God's in our least actions and at every moment of our ~sI shall clarify this at greater length when speaking .of the qualities of obedience. ~ Book o] Foundations in The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Avila, ed. E. Allison: Peers, vo 3 (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1951), p. 42. For a more complete treatment of this note of infallibility in obedience, see R. Morency, S.J., "The Ex~rcise of Authority in the Light of Present-Day Problems," "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 172-4. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 25,. 1956 ]83 4. 4. + REV[EW FOR REL]G]OU5 life. In obeying, in fulfilling what is demanded by rule and constitutions and by superiors, the religious has the certainty (in faith, of course, as we shall see) of dbing exactly what God wants her to do at each moment of her life. By obedience she conforms her will to God's. What we have been discussing is based on the fol-lowing considerations. Christian thought has always recognized in ecclesiastical leaders the representatives of Christ. Yet we are not to .feel that the decisions of those in authority on any particular point are identical with the direct revelation of God's designs. Nor are we to conclude that the dedisions of those in authority are identical with those which Christ Himself. would make in simil~tr circumstances. (This would be to push the "mystique" of obedience beyond its limits.) The mem-bers of communities who are in authority are secondary causes and remain so.'Zhey act with such intelligence and competence and skill as God has given them or as they may have acquired with His talents and grace. He does not transform their imperfections and weaknesses into ggod qualities. It is true of course that He does compensate~ for them, but this is different. Yet it is in spite of these insufficiencies whether hidden or obvious that Christ continues to govern His Church through such agents. It is through them that He works out His plan of redemption. The true concept of obedience does not consist in believing that every decision imposed by those in au-thority is the only possible one in the circumstances, or the best in the absolute sense. The Church's infallibility is involved only in the order of the magisterium and not at all in the purely jurisdictional order. No doubt, of course, the Holy Spirit assists those in authority to pre-ser~, e them from making blunders in the exercise of their power. But the Holy Spirit has never promised to guaran-tee them against every blunder in the sphere of govern-ment. The possibility of erroneous decisions will always be with the Church (like certain of its other marksl). But one thing remains certain; nothing can shake it, not even the possibility of error: God wants us to obey His delegates when they give legitimate orders. The Son of God made the Church His Body; and He decreed that the obedience which began in the Head should con-tinue in the Body, such that obedience is integrated with the Church's very existence. It is a vital law in the Body of Christ. Yet for all-this our Lord did not prom-ise His ministers, governing or teaching, all the human talents that might be necessary for a task which is ut-terly beyond, them. He sought the leaders and' teachers of His early Church on the Lake of Gennesaret not in the schools or in the council chambers of kings. And the same is true today. Not all the popes are the most wise and clever or learned, or even saints. Thus the real is-sue in religious obedience will always be in the spiritual order. The point at issue is simply this, that we must re-member in our own lives the words of the Lord: He who hears you hears me. And when He uttered these words, He knew what sort of men His own disciples were; he knew the level of their training and of their intelligence; even the limits of their generosity. Yet He still said:~ "He who hears you hears me and Him who sent me,. my Father," s0 From all this it follows that until the subject comes to.see in her superior the authority of the Master, there can be no real living religious obedience that is truly supernatural. 'For the subject is asked to see the presence of Christ and His directive providence whenever the su-perior commands her to fulfill the constitutions or rules or the laws which she has voluntarily and freely taken upon herself. We can go so far as to say that if Christ Himself. were to appear at the moment a. religious su-perior is giving us a command, He Himself would either give this same command or permit it to be given for some greater good He has in mind. By entering a reli-gious community one voluntarily enters upon a training program by which she is enabled to tend to the perfec-tion of cha~:ity. She enters what Benedict called the school of the Lord's service. And like a,ny0ne in any school, she has to be taught and instructed and exer-cised to attain the end for which she entered. And that demands being placed under a master or leader, at le'ast as far as those things which pertain to the religious life. are concerned. And while this process of learning may one day be terminated, such fhat the le~ider can no longer teach the religious who may be older and moie experienced than she in religion, still the exercising of one in obedience will always be necessary so that the habitual inclination to obey will not become rusty for want of practice and exercise. The ,dims of "Religious Obedience Proceeding to the aims of religious obedience we find them to be four: (1) it cuts away solicitude; (2) it di-rects us to the fullness of charity; (3) it enables us" to ful~ fill a sacramental mission in the Church; and (4) it effects a community of service for the Body of Christ. The first aim of religious obedience is somewhat .nega-tive in tone. You are all familiar with it. It attempts to cut away the constant solicitude as to .what we should do, where we should live, and how we should direct our ® See A. de Bovis, S.J., The Church:" Christ's Mystery and Sa~ra. rnent (New York: Hawthorn, 1961), pp. 123-4. Obed~,nce VOLUME 25, 1966 + + + C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW:FOR RELIGIOUS 186 lives. This we do by placing our lives in the hands of another or others who represent for us God. The ab-negation of self which is involved in 0bedi~nce is quite well defined in such a practice. As the recent decree on adaptation and renewal in the religious life has it: In professing obedience religious offer the full surrender of their own will as a sacrifice of themselves to God and so are united permanently and securely to God's salvific will. After the example of Jesus Cliristwho came to do the will of the Father, an d "assumi-ng the nature of a slave" learned obedience in the school of suffering, religious under the motion of the Holy Spirit subject themselves in faith to their superiors who hold the place of God.°1 While abnegation is involved in all obedience, in reli-gious obedience it becomes a constant and permanent dynamic and not something that is exercised only from time to time.Indeed, from a negative viewpoint, it is this constant and complete renunciation of our own will in preference to that of another wherein we find. our sanctity and wherein we find a holocaustal offering of our wills to God rather than a mere sacrificial offering of them to Him. That is why Christ in laying down the injunction for tile highest sanctity and perfection very frankly and openly said "He who would be my disciple must deny himself." 62 Without this personal abnega-tion there can be no sanctity which patterns itself after that of our Lord, that is, there is no sanctity which can call itself fully Christian. If we are to derive from reli- . gious obedience all of its fruit in the way of renuncia-tion of our own .wills, then we must subject them to the concrete will or wills of those superiors who are placed over us to mediate to us the will of God in our regard. From this it should be clear that religious obedience is established on the obedience of Christ, the following of Christ, which attained its full measure in the sacrifice of the Cross. If the religious consecration is derived from the consecration of Christ to the work of redemption, the vow of obedience has its source in the redemptive obedience of Christ. Therefore it is entirely insufficient to justify the vow of obedience by making exclusive ap-peal to the need for one authority for the organization of a life in community or for the carrying out of an ~postolate. This would be to make the mistake of con-side. ring religious obedience as merely a vehicle for apostolic activity. This notion of obedience as ordering us for community action is indeed a necessary part of religious obedience, especially in an active community, but the vow does not have for its exclusive object or Vatican II, Decree on Adaptation. Lk 9:23. end the development of obedience under the title of a purely social virtue such as is true of Marxist com-munism. It has for one of its properly religious values the task and aim of assimilating the life of the religious to that of Christ, to make pass into the person the fundamental attitude of the Redeemer. And as such it is meant to lead to the personal sanctification of the one who enters upon this way of life.°8 A second aim of religious obedience and one much more positive than the preceding is its close connection with the religious' growth in charity. We mentioned above that the practice of religious obedience differs from that of obedience practiced in a civil or natural society in that it puts us into more immediate contact with the will of God than does the latter. It is meant to bring about the perfect "unum velle" and the perfect "unum nolle" of our wills with that of Christ. For to love God is not merely to surrender or give up some-thing of our own will. It is to adhere positively and firmly to the will of the one we love~ It is to transform the willing of ourselves into that of the person we love. The more constant and actual this union of wills be-comes~: the more actual and constant does our love for this person become. And to love God means to do what He desires; it is to obey. The gospel makes this quite clear.64 That is why obedience in a religious commu-nity, which reaches to every action of a person's life, contributes so efficaciously to bring about the perfect union of wills which is the goal of the Christian life and in which Christian perfection consists. This is, as we know, Christian perfection, a union of Jove or charity or agapd, or a union in love, charity, and agapd. It is quite important that your religious understand this connection. As we have seen above, often in the order transmitted to us by superiors there'is an apparent lack of logic which at times might even seem to contradict a profound personal obedience (it goes against my con-science!). This difficulty can only be solved with love, a love that transmits and a love that accepts. The problem of obedience cannot ever be resolved in exact terms; it is more an intuition than the result of a logical proc-ess. We must frequently offer ourselves without seeing the result of our actions. This we can do only if we discover the relationship of love in obedience. It is love which provides the special intuition which makes it pos-sible [or both the one who obeys and the one who com-mands to arrive at the conclusion: I know that I can ~ See J. Galot, S.J., "R~demption et vie religieuse," in La vie re-ligieuse dans l'Eglise du Christ, p. 109. ~ Paoli, "Obedience," p. 278; Mt 22:37--40; Rom 13:I0; Gal 5:14; Jn 14:21; 15:10; 1 Jn 2:5; 3:24; 5:3. + + + Obedience VOLUME'25, 1~66 187 ÷ ÷ C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 188 trust myself to her or, more exactly, to Him, We will abandon ourselves entirely to a person and to his will once we feel that his will needs no justification because we love the person. We do what he wishes because it pleases him, and all that pleases him gives us joy because we love him.65 If this is ever true, it is certainly true when the other person involved is God. Obedience when understood in this light is the supreme instrument o[ charity; and once this is truly accepted by a religious, then her obedience is not going to be merely something that pertains to one of the virtues connected with jus-tice, or'a rendering of what she owes to someone or to a community because of her having surrendered herself to it. No, her obedience will go and was meant to go beyond this. It was intended to allow her to submit her-self to the direction of another, God, not merely because she considers Him to be the commander of her life but because He is one whom she has chosen as her Spouse,. because He is one whom she loves, because He is one With whom she has entered into a marital relationship of the spirit. Thus obedience, especially in the case of the religious sister should become an occasion for her pure love for Christ her Spouse and, as such, should realize the most perfect submission possible to another, one that ends in the ecstasy of one will in that of an-other, or of the person loving in the person of the be-loved." It is only when and where a religious sister has made this her idea and ideal of obedience that it be-comes not just a means of arriving at the perfection of charity but also a concrete way in which she can show or express, sacramentalize the love of charity or agapd which, she has toward Christ. Obedience becomes a sign of charity, an act by which she adheres to the will of one whom she loves, as a bride adheres to the will and the desires and good pleasure of her husband. Unless this love enters into her practice of obediehce it can easily remain sterile or, if having sprung up, die or wither. And the grain of wheat which fell into the ground at the time of profession never really does die, as Christ uses this figure. Rather, it remains alone and never does produce the fruit which it should and which it was meant to produce by the sower who placed the seed of vocation in her heart rather than in that of someone else. Still a third aim of religious obedience is that it be sacramental, that is, that it propose to us in visible form some extremely important truth of salvation. This was true in the case of Christ who is the sacrament of God's encounter with man and man's encounter with Paoli, "Obedience," pp. 287-8. k God. In Christ not only were God and His love for man revealed, but God also showed us in Him what it is for man to commit himself unconditionally to God the invisible Father. It was only upon His rising from the dead, because of the love and obedience of His life, that the Father established Him in power, or absolutely as Christ, the sender of the Spirit. In the Church also, the extension of Christ on earth, or the earthly body of Christ, it is in the word of obedience that God's will becomes manifest to us. This is why to a certain extent in the case of religious obedience, the word of.obedience is sacramental. It is not so much a word about some-thing as rather the sign under which God's saving will in Christ makes itself present for us here and now within our history. It is in and through obedience, through the word of authority that God's saving reality can address itself to spiritual persons, calling on them for the free obedience of faith and trusting surrender of love. Sal-vation becomes present to religious in the word of obedi-ence, a word which calls for a free personal assent. 'Christ's going out from the Father into the world, a world at enmity with God because of its sins, receives a commission to bear witness to mankind's dependence and need for even more dependence upon God. Only when He had lived His Sonship through to the very end in total obedience to the Father even to the death of the Cross was His divine Sonship fully revealed. Thus it was through His human life that the abiding expression of the Son's obedience to the Father became visibly ex-pressed, and it was His death itself that was the supreme expression or epiphany of His religious surrender to the Father. This self-giving in the way of obedience through self-dispossession is the very essence of the religious com-mitment in the service of God.6~ Thus the practice of obedience as a community affair and as a personal affair is intended to be a constant and visible reminder to all who see religious that all men, all creatures will have true joy only by remaining in a continuous and permanent state of complete and entire dependence on God, a state in which the love of a creature is constantly responding to the love of the Creator, or in the case of religious women a state of de-pendence in which the love of a bride is constantly re-sponding to the love and entreaties of her husband. Man has need of this image since the relationship of man-kind with God is feminine as Scripture so often points out. This sacramentalism of obedience has been very clearly shown by St. Paul in referring to Christian mar-riage: "You married women must subordinate your- ~ Schillebeeckx, Christ the Sacrament, pp. 18--9, 28. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 189 4. 4. C,. A. $chleck, ~.$.C. REVIEW,'FOR RELIGIOUS 190 selves to your husbands as to the Lord. For a husband is the head of his wife just as Christ is the head of :the Church which :is his Body and is saved by Him. Just as the Church is in subjection to Christ, so married women must be in everything subject to their hus-bands." a~ As we mentioned when speaking of virginity, the marriage of the virgin.with Christ is the prototype or the model or exemplar of that existing between husband and wife. Thus the submission and obedience of the virgin of Christ to her Lord is to be the model or sacra-ment for all Christian men and women and also for the whole body of redeemed and unredeemed mankind, since this is called to relationship with Christ as His body-person, as His immaculate spouse, wedded to Him 'forever in undying love and submission or surrender, as He is to His Father, Thus there is a sacramental reality attached to the religious obedience of the woman that is not present in the case of the man. And it is this very ¯ modification which can make the practice of obedience something powerful and attractive. And it is this sacra-mental purpose of obedience that meets the need of the Church today. For it is more important than ever to show that obedience is universal in character ~and be-longs to the very, life of the Church. Religious life is not just an "extra, with regard to the Christian life; it is its mOSt~ striking .visible manifestation. Obedience brings to it the completion of our baptismal faith or perfects the consecration proper-to baptism,as If religious life and particularly obedience are to be truly a manifestation of the Christian. life in its perfection, then they must be truly radiant, .truly perfect. Only then~ will they serve their purpose for .existence in the Church; only then wil! they be 'truly alive and dynamic in the Church.a9 It is because of this sacramental aspect of obedience in ~ Eph 5:22 ft. ~ "Thus the profession of the evangelical counsels is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to baptism. It is in-deed a special consecration which perfects the former oue,.iuasmuch as by it the follower ~f Christ totally commits himself and dedi-cates himself to God; thereby making his entire life a service to God alone" (Paul VI, Magno gaudio a~ecti; REVIEW VOR RI~LXGIOUS, V. 25 [1964], pp. 699-700). See also the Constitution on the Church, Chap-ter 6, n. 44; REVIEW VOR R~LIclous, v. 24 (1965), pp. 714-5; and J. Laplace, ':Education to Obedience," pp. 68-9. ~.This note of "sacramentality" should be seriously considered in all changes and adaptations. It is said that regularity weighs much less on young religious today than ever before. Remarks about re-ligious exercises are rather disparaging. They are considered quite out-of-date or naive~most probably because the values of these things have not been clearly presented. As one author remarks: "It is quite evident that we are suffering from a very evident lack of clear principles presenting valueJ behind certain religious exercises and regularity." We know that when values are not seen neither are the exercises. See M. Belanger, O.M.L, "Donum Dei" 3, pp: 106-7. religion that those who obey should obey as though they were obeying Christ or as the New Testament has it, "as to the Lord." 70 Those who are obeyed shot~ld find the pattern of their conduct in the love and care of Christ, and they must also remember that they in tLirn owe obedience to Christ also. It is in this way that subordination will be met by love and concern. To un-derstand the aims of obedience thus far discussed in this light would seem tocorrectly place obedience in our striving after the perfection of charity. It would give to both superiors and to subjects their respective roles and attitudes and mentalities towards this practice: It points out that the first and chief concern of all superiors, es-pecially major, is the. leading of their subjects to inti-mate union with God. Their primary duty is not the un-raveling of the material and °temporal and financial difficulties of their office nor the successful carrying out of the external apostolates and activities entrusted to the congregation or order. It is to "lead their subjects to God. It is only to the extent that they fulfill this duty that they are making their greatest contribution and gift to God, to the Church, and to their own religious family. To destroy or forget this role of the superior in a religious community is to destroy the [amily atmos-phere that God intended to characterize every religious society. For a superior can too easily become a purely juridical figure or image, one who gives out permis-sions of one kind or another or one who is merely an ad-ministrator, one who organizes the community's work and policies. And then she very quickly loses her primary role, that of being a mother to those of her daughters whom God's providence has placed under her direction so that they might be helped to the perfection of char-ity by reason of her having been in labor until Ghrist was formed in them. It is only when authority is sus-tained by love that it becomes authority in the real and true sense of the word. For only then can it look to God and to the love of God as its real foundation. For His authority is always ultimately a loving authority,~ even when it punishes or corrects.71 It is true that you can say that your religious when taking vows knew that a great sacrifice would be expected of them, the re-nunciation of their wills, their families, the happiness of marriage, and the intimacy of a family and horiae. But all this is a sacrifice, and your own religious because they are usually among the most high-souled and gen-erous women in the Church feel it most keenly. It is most impo.rtant that this element of love be inserted into Eph 5:22. The States o] Per[ection, p. 324. + + + Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 ]91 th~ exercise of authority in your-case; for as Pius XII re-marked once in speaking to superiors of religious com-munities of~women: It is no doubt true as psychology affirms that the woman in-vested with authority does not succeed as easily as a man in finding the exact formula for combining strictness with kindness and establishing the balance between them. That is an added reason for cultivating your .motherly sentiments.7' Where this spirit is present, you can be assured that the overall characteristic note of religious discipline and" obedience will be found both in the individual houses as well as in the community at large filial confidence and family warmth. It is this :spirit which includes com-plete embracing of rules and customs that lessens your own burdens and is so, conducive both to your own most ardent desires as well as those of your ~eligious the personal and corporate sanctification of all the members. You will always find that where there is mu-tu~ il conviction of'good will, a true family spirit in which.the authority of those in charge is respected and the needs and the different temperaments of those working with those in charge are taken into considera-tion is always present. And it is only this presence that can make of an individual house or an entire com-munity what it was meant to be in the sight of the en-tire Church and world: a training ground and a proving C. A. Schleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ra Address to Mothers General, 1952; The States of Perfection, p. 217. When I speak of a mother-daughter relationship, I am not advocating a type of relationship that begets or retains an emo-tional infantilism. This has been defined as "a persistence of re-sponses in an adult that indicates a manner of coping with needs and reacting in a way that corresponds to the psychological attitude or modality of childhood" (M. Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety [New York: Macmillan, 1963], p. 133). There is an exaggerated dependence with fear of responsibility and an unreasonable need of affection and approval. It is often this last need for affection and approval ~hat has given rise to much criticism from subjects who feel mature and yet are the most insecure members of the communityl This in-fantilism comes most often from inadequate home training. And how is religion to cope. with this? It can be done, but it is not easy. God did not allow religious institutes to come into being for the specific purpose of training emotional infants. The family is th~ unit established for thisI As Pius says: "A religious house differs ~rom the family home; it is not the same and does not try to be, because within its walls zeal for dedication and self-denial for the love ~of Christ, and the austere penitential practices [I think he would say possible todayl] involve some measure of discomfort and pain, N~vertheless, as far as possible the religious house shall en-deavor to become a loved family home for each one of the com-munity. And undoubtedly this will be' achieved more easily if all alike respect the foundation structure of the natural virtues which ~requently are the proof of abundant supernatural vigor and splendor" (Address to Discalced Carmelites, 1951; The States oI Perfection, p. 204). ground for sanctity, a kind of an ante-chamber to the beatific vision. Still a fourth aim of religious obedience is the effec-tive building of a community of service for the needs of the Body of Christ. While we cannot and must not make the efficiency of the external .apostolate or the creation of a well-ordered community the exclusive end of the prac-tice of religious obedience, it is nonetheless an end and an important one. This results from what we saw above of the very nature and purpose of authority-itself---the creation of the common good or the good of the com-munity. The Church exists as a mystery of communion, of the many in the one Body of Christ. In the building up of Christ's Body the different members have different functions to fulfill, functions which are meant to build up and unify the whole human race which is called to be part of the catholic unity of the People of God. It is especially through the practice of obedience that reli-gious are brought into community both to be a sigh'of the perfect community of love, the community of the earthly Church and that of the pa.rousia, and also to be at the service of the Church. All the energies and tal-ents and training of the various members are ordered and dovetailed tO be put at the service of Christ and His Church. In fact it is quite true to say that the theol-ogy of obedience and authority is in a special way a theology of unity~and communion. Such a spirit is so welcome in an age when we.are trying to correct some of the deviations which may have unintentionally crept into religious obedience b~ a heavy concentration on its legal aspects. While it is and will always remain very necessary for both superiors and subjects to know exactly and precisely what is involved in the canonical prescriptions of obedience or that amount of obedience without which the community or society could not possibly hope to achieve its objectives, it still remains the function of superiors to urge and of subjects to strive to attain the perIection of obedience or the spirit of obedience. Whereas canonical obedience prescribes and .correcdy sets very ~definite limits to the minimum practice required of the members of a reli-gious society, perfect obedience ,inclines one to look upon everything contained in the religious life as an op-portunity by means of which the members can bring their 'wills and their persons, their whole persons, into perfect accord with the will and the heart of Christ and His Church. It will tend to make them attain the ulti-mate end for which they enter religion--to suppress all selfishness of their special points of view and rejoice to be hsed for the one great work of the redemption of the human race. While it is true that in the last analysis + 4. + Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 + + ÷ C. A. SchCle.Sc.kC,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 194 it is the individual religious who will ultimately choose which of the two extensions of obedience she 4s going to take as her rule or norm--minimal obedience or per-fect-- authority does have much to do in shaping or forming a religious to one or other point of view. If authority continues to build up during the years of formation and also afterwards a greater awareness of the aims which we have just presented, it is much more likely that each religious would realize more and more as the years of her life pass by the promise of our Lord Himself to those who consent to follow Him closely: "My ~oke is sweet and my burden is ligh_ t." 7s How simply has all this been stated in the decrees of the Vatican Council: ¯. in order that he might derive greater fruit from his bap-tismal grace, he decides to free himself by his profession in the Church of the evangelical counsels from the impediments which might keep him from the fervor of charity and from giving God a perfect worship . Since the evangelical counsels by reason of the charity to which they lead, unite those who take them to the Church and her mystery in a special way, the spiritual life of those taking them should be consecrated also to the good of the entire Church. in accord with their capacities and the nature of their vocation . " In professing obedience, religious offer the full surrender of their own will as a sacrifice of themselves to God and so are united permanently and securely to God's salvific will. After the example of Jesus Christ who came to do the will of the Father and "assuming the nature of a slave" learned obedience in the school of suffering, religious under the motion of the Holy Spirit, subject themselve~in faith to their superiors who hold the place of God. Under their guidance, they are led to serve all their brothers in Christ, just as Christ Himself in obedience to the Father served His brethren and laid down His life as a ransom for many. So they are closely bound to the service of the Church and strive to attain the measure of the full manhood of Christ. Religious, therefore, in the spirit of faith and love for the divine will should humbly obey their superiors according to their rules and constitutions. Realizing that they are con-tributing to building up the Body of Christ according to God's plan, they should use both the forces of their intellect and will and the gifts of nature and grace to execute the commands and fulfill the duties entrusted to them. In this way religious obedi-ence, far from lessening the dignity of the human person, by ex-tending the freedom of the sons of God leads it to maturity. Superiors, as those who are to givaen ~ account of the souls entrusted to them, should fulfill their office in a way responsive to God's will. They should exercise their authority out of a spirit of service to the brethren, expressing in this way the love with which God loves their subjects. They should govern these as sons of God, respecting their human dignity. In this way they make it easier for them to subordinate their wills,~ r~Mt 11:30. Vatican II, Constitution on the Church, Chapter 6, n. 44; R~- wrw roa Rr_meious, v. 24 (1965), p. 714. Vatican II, Decree on Adaptation. The Qualities oI Religious Obedience Under this partic~ular heading many various consider-ations could be taken up. It seems best, however, to limit ourselves to a few by reason of their special con-temporaneity or timeliness: supernaturalness, interior-ness, and activeness. The Supernatural Quality o[ Obedience Perhaps no other quality of religious obedience seems to be suffering more today than that of its supernatural-hess. So many questions about and so many defections from the religious life, especially among older reli-gious, would seem to hinge on the motive because of which they live the religious life. This must be, funda-mentally at least, supernatural. And if religious obedi-ence is to be supernatural, then subjects must learn to obey, to carry out the tasks to which they are assigned and the rules and constitutions because these things represent for them the will of God, at least permissive, here and now. The pleasure or 'lack of pleasure that such an action gives or might give should not be the con-trolling motive; nor should the agreeableness or disagree-ableness of the person giving the command or making the decision; nor should the hope of some reward or advancement or fear of reprisal or anything such. The controlling motive in religious obedience should be: God has asked me to do this. The decisive reason for which we owe obedience to religious superiors is the authority invested in them by God. This authority is a supernatural qual!ty and is distinct from all qualities that may adorn a superior in the natural order. In.a sense it belongs t6 the order of charisms and is conferred by God through proper channels for the good of the religious commu-nity. It belongs to the order of faith both for the superior who needs more than the light of reason to recognize it and for the subject who comes to see God in the supe-rior by calling on his faith and who can come to tr6at the superior as God's representative only with the help of filial piety that is entirely supernatural.TM It belongs also to the order of love. For religious are urged to constantly strive to look beyond their superiors, direct-ing their obedience to the source of all authority, God, and to do so out of love and for love. As we have seen, the purpose or aim of obedience is to promote the growth of love; and love, in turn, is intended to enliven obedience and make it more fruitful. As our love grows deeper, so will our obedience to the great benefit of our own interior lives and to the incalculable profit of those who come under our personal influence. The true liberty ~6 Belanger, "Donum Dei" $, pp. 122-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 195~ 4. 4. 4. C. .4. $chleck, C.S,C. REV1EWFOR RELIGIOUS 196 of a religious consists not in initiative and responsibil-ity nor in terms of independence, at least primarily; it consists in perfect dependence on God, a dependence that is voluntary and cultivated as actively as possi-ble. For who is less a slave than a will that is truly mas-ter of the lower appetites and that has once and for all given itself entirely to the supreme good. It is Charles de Foucauld who once remarked that Christ took the lowest place in such a way that no one can ever take it from Him. This desire to be forgotten and unknown in loving imitation of the rejected Christ still represents the highest reach of Christian asceticism. There is no question, of course, of shrinking from great apostolic works or wasting one's talents. We are speaking of an attitude, a willingness to be content with the task as-signed, and of preference for the lower or less esteemed, when God's glory would permit such a choice.77 This is the ideal motivation to be looked for in regard to religious obedience. Yet if we are to believe reports and experience, it is much more difficult to achieve today than before.7s We seem to be faced with an acceptance of submission that is based on or conceived of in terms of sensitive interpersonal relationships, of liberties and rights to be safeguarded, of discussions with superiors, of private initiatives to be exercised, and, in the, case of some at least, of necessary resistance" to legitimately ex-ercised authority--a kind of religious sit-in. Again we find that there is a good deal of insecurity in the present generation of young people coming to us, even though this may be masked by an apparent confidence and poise, even forwardness. This insecurity, plus the brain-washing they receive through the various media of com-munication, tends to impel them to seek status. This is not always, perhaps not even usually, merely a selfish want. It is a genuine need for a position of security that will assure them of the esteem and support 0f others. Young religious, especially in communities in which counseling or nursing or teaching or other professional work is generally done, manifest considerable anxiety about possible prospects of being assigned to advanced study and also notable frustration and depression if they are passed over. Despite the democratic myth, status positions are a very prominent feature of our society. The only difference between now and before was that yesterday status was rigid; it was that into which you were born; today it is mobile, it is what you make it. Yet it is there as a frenetic push up and down some ladder reflecting insecurity and acting as a feedback to increase 7~ L. Bondy, C.S.B., "Donum Dei" 3, p. 153. ~ G. George, S.J., "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 82 ft. it.TM In the novitiate it may be piety--provided it is not too eccentric--whereas in the juniorate and later on it may be professional excellence even to the point of this becoming a kind of neurotic ambition. The real author-ity figures are the professors or teachers who replace the novice mistress or even juniorate mistress. And the area of competition and prestige shifts from spiritual competence and excellence to excellence in studies,s0 Again, we also find that after some years of profes-sional service in one or other of the apostolates of the community, the supernatural motivation has either not grown at all or has even notably regressed. And then obedience has become for such members only a trial, only a series of fetters and frustrations, so that psy-chologically they become convinced that the community and the religious life is more of a hindrance than a help not only professionally, but also spiritually, that is, in their striving after the perfection of love of God and neighbor. And we all know that there is nothing more painful than to see certain religious lose even the pri-mordial meaning and motivation of their vocation and forget the why of their presence in religious life and fall more and more into a state of regret for having entered and of irritation,sl In fact we can say that the really crucial moment of religious life comes some ten or fif-teen years after entrance, and it usually revolves on the question of obedience. The dream of perfect surrender if it was present earlier appears for what it really is, a daily cross even for the most holy. A less painful solu-tion than sanctity or defection is always at hand---the path of comfortable mediocrity. The problem is solved by simply lowering the ideal, often seeing it primarily or exclusively in terms of sociological and psychological terms and structures and solutions. The motives learned in the early years of formation lose their cogency, and they become an encumbrance rather than a help.s2 As a result of these problems brought about by the societal structure of today there is a growing tendency to feel that reasons must always be given a subject every-time she is asked to do something or given an assign-ment. And this is supported by the argument that only ~See V. Packard, The Status Seekers (New York: McKay, 1959), p. 253. so If this is not handled carefully by those in charge through constant education, formal and informal, intense inner conflict and confusion can result. The tensions in some community juniorates and scholasticates would bear out this idea of "value conflict." s~ Much of this is brought on by changes in outlook and by cer-tain crises considered in our treatment of virginity and to be men-tioned further on in this article. s~ Later on in the part on practical suggestions we shall see what can be done to forestall this occurrence. Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 197 4. c. ~. S~hled~, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS that authority is really strong which obtains consent and participation rather than mere compliance. To give orders is easy but to obtain commitment and intellec-tual and intelligent participation is a major challenge. It is an inescapable responsibility of authority and one which can easily be overlooked. If this principle is used within limits (and I think that it has been oftenS3), it is true and can be followed with-out harming the supernatural motivation of religious obedience. But to make this principle apply at all times and in all circumstances, and especially within the con-text of strict parliamentary procedure and democracy, would exceed its applicability and would indeed destroy the very nature of religious obedience. Every attempt to reduce the relationship between superior and subject to one of mere dialogue between the two, a dialogue in which the subject would not be really obliged to follow the decision, or one in which the subject would be always allowed--by the v.ery nature of the contract--to make his own choice, would destroy the whole notion of obedience and render the relationship between superior and subject within a religious context meaningless. As Plus XII mentioned in an address to a general congre-gation of the Society of Jesus in 1957: And those persons are straying far from the truth who consider that the teaching of the Letter (St. Ignatius' Letter on Obedience) is to be abandoned, and that in place of hierarchical and religious obedience there should be substituted a certain "democratic" equality which would permit the subject to discuss with his superior until agreement between them is reached.~' It is true that where one carries out a command or obeys a constitution or rule which he thoroughly under-stands and with which he is heartily in agreement, there is no question of disobedience. But neither is there necessarily an act of the virtue of obedience. It is quite possible that the subject does what she is given to do from motives that are simply natural or human. And this particularly if training along the lines~.of supernat-ural obedience has never been insisted on. The habit of always giving the reasons for obedience or of point-ing out the reasonableness of the command or assignment given could easily cause a psychological stance that would make the reasonableness of the command and the fact that we both agree on this a condition for obey-ing. Then the virtue has been dethroned, and the per-son could be placed in a precarious vocational situation ~This is used well by A. Greeley, "Fraternal Authority," pp. 562-5. ~ The States of Per]ection, p. 295. This is "selective obedience" at its worst. See C. Davis, "A Catholic Obedience," America, Novem-ber 7, 1964. as far as perseverance is concerned. For there are and there will always undoubtedly be situations in religion when a person will come under a superior who does not wish to or who cannot always give reasons or point out the reasonableness of something which has to be done. For sometimes, to point out the reasons would mean the violation of a secret (the reputation of another member of the community) entrusted to a superior only in virtue of her office, and perhaps after much prayer and reflec-tion, on the part of a subject. I am not saying that reasons should not be given and even frequently, perhaps. For supernatural obedience to really take effect, the formation of the natural on all levels (and not just will-power formation) must also be present. Candidates of 17-18-19-20 are in full adoles-cent development. They are products of today and the societal structures of today; and there is nothing to be gained by closing our eyes to what they are or what they come from, all that I have-mentioned above, demo-cratic environment, a milieu of status-striving, an at-mosphere of constant questioning, and striving for inde-pendence. In fact, we can even ask ourselves seriously whether or not the cultural determinants in the United States today do not make it much more difficult for the majority of young religious to ever arrive at real ex-cellence in the supernatural practice of obedience. At least it is more difficult to arrive there. And superiors and those in training programs must accept this fact.s5 Thus it is very useful and necessary to give specific rea-sons for which things are done to facilitate obedience in the subject (to enlighten their minds before they act), to increase maturity, and even to prevent criticism. Thus the natural good and the spiritual good of the subjects dspecially in the very early training years would dictate that such a policy could and should be followed. But as the theology and meaning of religious obedience is ex-plained to them, occasions, not artificial or contrived but natural and arising out of circumstances, should be given to subjects when they will not be given the rea-sons why they are asked to do this or that. These of course should be given according to the capacity of each subject. This grad~4al training will most likely be much slower today. What we regard as alarming and perhaps a symptom of decline in regard to religious motivation and the nature of the young girl is a retarded appearance of a rather normal adolescence crisis centering around the struggle for independence from authority. Likewise in the case of older religious passing through an obedience crisis (usually around the mid-thirties), you s~ G. George, S.J., "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 82-$; L. Bondy, ibid., pp. 151-2. 4- 4- 4- Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 ]99 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS will find pressures making it extremely difficult for them to'respond in an ideal way. She must be helped through this to a deeper and more mature self-gift in and through obedience without sacrificing the essentials of the super-natural quality of obedience merely to keep peace in the family or keep a restless section of the community pacified. Thus the real danger in regard to the supernatural quality of obedience today lies not in the acceptance of the subjects as they are at various stages of personal and cultural development (for this is necessary), but in superiors not willing or a[raid to make the effort to lead them higher and [urther, to a more per[ect supernat-ural obedience as described above. Religious obedience like everything else that pertains to the order of grace is very ofte6 mysterious and demands a deep spirit of faith. Faith, however, is of things that are not seen, of things that lie beyond the grasp and comprehension of mere human reason. They pertaiia to another order of things, the supernatural order, the order of eternity or God in time, and consequently must remain mysterious. Not to train a religious gradually and in keeping with her capac.ity to live in this order would be to destroy the supernatural spi.rit that must lie at the very root of reli-gious obedience.8~ The In~erior Quality o[ Obedience A second quality that must characterize religious obedience and that stands in need of clarification today is its inter.iorness, For obedience to be truly interior, one that touches the very heart of man and not merely a mechanical exterior compliance with directives, it must touch both the will and the intellect. In fact, exterior obedience should be the crowning action of religious obedience embodying and giving visibility to the interior obedience of the will and the intellect. So often obedience of the will is badly misunderstood. It is taken as dying to self-will or as annihilating one's will. This is true if we speak of the specifically selfish in the will, its ill-regulated aspect, But in another and perhaps far more accurate sense obedience per[ects the will instead of suppressing it. It is not a passive virtue consisting in not-wanting. It is positive and active and is meant to consist in wanting as intensely as possible ~The greatest thinkers, often those who have personally suf-fered much from authority, have generally been its staunchest de-fenders and the most supernaturally obedient of men. Teilhard de Chardin i:ould write: "In spite of Rome's having its own r~asons for judging that in the present form my concept of Christianity may be premature or incomplete, I am resolved to remain a child of obedience." what God wants. And in this it finds its highest perfec-tion ~nd fulfillment. The will attains its perfection when it is in possession Of its object, which is the good; and the greater the good, the more is the will perfected. Since the divine will is the object of the human will in religious obedience, the human will is perfected in a supreme degree. In a sense, then, obedience of the will is meant to touch and fashion the whole heart so that a religious ever more fully obeys as life progresses, not through constraint but rather through a connatural in-clination or through that inclination which comes through the gradual growth of the virtue. Just as the eyes are instinctively attracted by beauty of sight and the ears by beauty or harmony of sound, so too the will of a re-ligious should as the years pass by become more and more connaturally attracted by the good which it finds in obedience to God. A religious obeys or should obey because she recognizes the right of another to'command her and because she wishes this other person to have this right and because she loves the order that has been given. Only the supernatural virtue of obedience can bring about this love of authority and command in the life of a religious, and this is not an easy task. It is a constant struggle, but it is something that she should be aiming at from the moment that she embraces this life. And it will certainly grow in the religious who co-operates with all the graces given her in this regard. Obedience so understood does not consist in con-straint, It is rather a free act which alone has full value before God. And it is a kind of sacramental embodiment of the stance of our Lord: ,I lay down my life; no one can rob me of it; for I lay it down of my own accord." 87 In fact we might note that it is to facilitate this obedi-ence in freedom that in nearly all communities the rules and constitutions do not of themselves oblige under pain of sin. It is with this object in view, to draw' out,of subjects a free and voluntary obedience, that most supe-riors today prefer to request rather than to issue strict commands.88 When we come to the other side of interior obedience, obedience o[ the intellect, we touch on a problem that can easily present extreme difficulties both for subjects and for superiors. We have often heard it said that for obedience to be perfect it demands the submission of one's judgment as well as of one's will. This has to be understood carefully, however, Often it is understood to mean that the religious is forced to abdicate her judg-ment and the normal exercise of her intellect. Yet when + + 4- Obedience 8*Jn 10:17-8. ss R. Morency, S.J., "Donum Dei" 3, pp. 16~-5. VOLUME 25, 1966 4. C. A. $chleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS correctly understood, religious obedience, just as it re-spects the normal orientation of the will, also respects the normal orientation of the intellect. What religious obedience demands is that we submit to others, the rules and constitutions and legitimate authority, our prac-tical judgment at all times, save where an obviously sinful action is prescribed. It also requires that we sub-mit our speculative judgment when this is possible. I say "when this is possible" because what is sacrificed by religious obedience is our speculative judgment. But if there happens to be an instance in which the judgment to be made is not ours to make but is dictated by norms or laws or principles extrinsic to us (and well-qualified norms), then we cannot sacrifice our judgment nor do we have the right to sacrifice it because the judgment in this case is really not ours to give. Such would be the case in the following rather obvious examples: two plus two equals five, or square pegs are best put into round holes. Our speculative judgment could not pos-sibly make us accept these judgments simply because they are not ours to give. They are dictated by norms extrinsic and objective to ourselves which we cannot change and have no right to change. Thus obedience of the judgment does not consist in our bowing before every decision of superiors without judgment of any kind. Quite the opposite. Obedience of the judgment requires the exercise and the use of one's judgment. Nor does obedience of the judgment de-mand that we think the same as our superior thinks or that we judge to be most perfect in itself all that the superior commands, speculatively speaking. The supe-rior is not infallible and can make mistakes. She can at times act imprudently and even unjustly,s° This difficulty, while perhaps rarer in the past because often superiors were far better educated than their sub-jects, is one that is frequent in religious life today. Many subjects have as good, if not better, training in their fields of work than their superiors. We may have a superior of a community engaged in hospital work who ¯ has never been trained in the field. It is quite likely that the problems of the religious engaged in that work will not always be understood by her or handled in the wis-est and most prudent manner. Or we have a superior of a house of philosophy or theology who has spent his en-tire priestly life in parish work or in the field of mis-sionary endeavor. It is quite possible for such a person to make decisions which the subjects, let us say the fac-ulty members, know by their own experience of years of teaching not to be the most prudent or wise. To such Ibid., pp. 177, 162. judgments and decisions no subject can yield his or her speculative judgment simply because he or she does not possess the right or the ability to yield or to make this judgment conform to that of the one in charge. Obedience of judgment, then, does not demand that we canonize all the actions of superiors nor obey be-cause and to the extent that the command is reason-able as this is usually understood. It demands that she recognize this principle: "It does not belong to me to make the decision; it belongs to the superior." Thus a religious cannot regulate her own will or what she does by her own judgment but by the judgment of the su-perior since it is this judgment that she has taken as her rule of action in the practical here and.now situation. She sees in it the designs of God Himself directing her to the end which He has set up foi- her from all eternity. By obedience she vows to give up acting on and accord-ing to her own judgment independently of superiors, which is not the same as giving up the right to make a judgment or to form one. To give up this right would destroy the liberty and freedom and the voluntariness which is so essential in making religious obedience the holocaustal offering of one's will to God. For obedience is not simply a mechanical action on the part of a hu-man person. It is a most personal action and therefore should be freely accomplished. It is an action in which the subject [reely adjusts her will to that of the superior. TO obey without having' moral certitude that such an act is licit is immoral simply because a person is respon-sible for all that she accomplishes, even of that which she does out of obedience. Here, of course, we must be cautious. To establish that an order is legitimate does not take long reflection. In fact, if there is long reflec-tion about the legitimacy of a command, it is usually a sign that the person is psychologically disturbed or hy-percritical and is not an appropriate instrument to de-termine if in the concrete an order is or is not legiti-mate. However, wherever there is question of mere opinion, then obedience will incline us to follow the opinion of the superior to the extent that this is possible. Often-times the position of the superior on something or other is somewhat doubtful, some reasons in favor of it, others opposed. In this case obedience of judgment asks that we consider rather the favorable reasons and be not too strongly attached to the possible objections, that is, if we are to assure a more perfect agreement of will and of judgment. This case often happens in regard to the more practical cases of action, assignments, and so forth, where the superior has a much wider acquaintance with all the factors involved in the decision, ,factors which 4- 4- 4- Obedience VOLUME 25, 1966 2O3 ÷ C. A. $chleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS subjects cannot see because of their limited vision, fac-tors which affect individuals of the same or different houses or even persons outside the commfinity. Very of-ten a superior is faced with the alternative of the lesser of two evils. We should note that a truly obedient reli-gious wishes that the superior should be right and is always ready to renounce her own will and opinion with ease insofar as it is simply her own. This as we realize demands intense virtue, but it is a goal which every religious should be working to reach. As for "blind" obedience it must not be thought to consist in seeing nothing; rather it consists in submitting one's practical judgment to that of the superior even when the action commanded or the decision indicated to be followed is truly unreasonable from the merely human point of view. For the religious then obeys not becau

THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College. Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1900. No. S RALLY 'ROUND THE STANDARD. CHAS. W. WEISER, '01. Those days are gone, they've swiftly flown, With pleasures fraught, and joys well known, When by the sea or mountain town We gaily roamed, or lithe, sat down— Or in the country on the farm Renewed our health thro' nature's charm. We'd often sport throughout the day, And when the zephyrs held their sway We'd chat with friends and loved ones light, 'Neath Hesper islands of the night, Of actions done which time had sealed, Or of the future unrevealed. Those days are gone, and back to toil, We've come, and burn the midnight oil— Aye eagerly once more we've come, 'Though minds are full of thoughts of home, For thro' it all we get a view Of the orange and the blue. We see our standard in the air, Floating high in noon-tide glare, And feel that we must lead the ranks Which cross the yellow Tiber's banks, And bravely 'neath our ensign stand,— A glorious future's now at hand. 138 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY BARNACLES. [First Gies Prize.] R. D. CLARE, '00. My soul is sailing' through the sea, But the Past is heavy and hindereth me. The Past hath crusted cumbrous shells That hold the flesh of cold sea-mells About my soul. The huge waves wash, the high waves roll, Each barnacle clingeth and worketh dole And hindreth me from sailing-. Old Past, let go, and drop i' the sea Till fathomless waters cover thee ! For I am living but thou art dead; Thou drawest back, I strive ahead The Day to find. Thy shells unbind ! Night comes behind, I needs must .hurry with the wind And trim me best for sailing'. —SlDNBV L,ANIER. We have in the lines just quoted the forcible and correct im-plication of a great and eternal truth—great in its significance and comprehensiveness, eternal in its applicability to existence in all ages and the constant uniformity of its operation. The Past is ever exercising a mighty controlling influence on the Present and is at the same time determining with wonderful ac-curacy the character of the Future. L,ike a dread sovereign, clothed with absolute power, it secures the complete enactment of its every edict. Even the forces of nature are subservient to it and yield unquestioning obedience to its behests. Its influence is at the same time beneficent and tyrannical, benign and arrogant, uplifting and debasing. Its realm of activity being infinite, all men come within its potent sway. Every individual is therefore to a great extent, in his intellectual, moral and physical char-acteristics, a product of past ages. Innumerable habits and tendencies are transmitted from generation to generation, now in-creasing in strength, now weakening or disappearing, all the time carrying with them blessing or destruction. To those who have a deep and sympathetic insight into human nature with all its frailties and ceaseless struggles, these choice lines of Eanier will appeal with special force and significance. The analogy between the soul and a vessel upon the sea is both THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 139 beautiful and appropriate. Who has witnessed the departure of an ocean liner on its solitary journey to some far distant port without being reminded of the passage of a human soul across the broad ocean of life ? Imagine the scene. In a sheltered harbor, riding at anchor upon the gently undulating surface of the water, is a stately ship. Her highly polished decks, glitter-ing sides and burnished armorings suggest immaculate cleanliness and youth, while her dazzlingly white sails, bathed in the warm sunlight, are the very emblems of purity. On board, stationed at their respective posts of duty, are the hardy sailors, eager for the cruise. Finally the signal is given; the anchor is lifted, and the sails are spread to the ready breeze. Slowly at first, but with ever increasing speed, the beautiful ship, like a huge white-winged bird, passes majestically from the harbor out into the open sea. The shores rapidly recede from view until they describe to the fond farewell gaze of the sailors nothing more than a thin haze along the horizon. This too soon disappears, and ere long our proud ship is far from all lauds, pursuing her solitary course upon the trackless depths of the ocean. Days come and go and the ship is still on her watery way, propitious winds co-operating with the unerring intelligence of the pilot in directing her to her destined harbor. From time to time the hearts of the sailors are cheered by the appearance of a sail on the horizon and the passing of another vessel with its precious burden of human beings. But the interest is only tem-porary ; halloos and good-byes are exchanged and the vessels soon lose sight of one another. Each has its own peculiar mission to perform, just as different souls, which in life's experiences may come into close contact one with another, must always remain individual existences with their own peculiar missions and obli-gations. Following our ship in her onward course we find her still staunch and true. Nor does she escape untoward conditions; the fury of the elements threatens her repeatedly; the thunders roar and the lightnings play about her masts. But she successfully braves every tempestuous sea, as though confident of her own soundness and safety. In time her first port is made; her first achievement gloriously won. The cruise is continued and the ship sails from port to port in the performance of her responsible mission. But in the course of time there gradually appear signs mmm 140 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY of deterioration in the vessel. Not only is there a decided dimi-nution in her speed, but her draught is increased and her sailing more laborious. An investigation reveals the startling fact that clinging to her once smooth and clean hull with tenacious grasp are many small barnacles, whose appearance there had been so gradual as to be at first almost without any perceptible effects. The ship is hundreds of miles from a dock and consequently the evil cannot be remedied. The number of barnacles is rapidly increasing now and the sailing of the ship is continually becom-ing more laborious. Our once proud and beautiful ship begins to show unmistakable signs of decay. She is ever sinking deeper in the briny deep and can continue her course only with the greatest difficulty. No longer is she able to withstand the buffet-ing storms; and those in charge of her make strenuous efforts to get her into the nearest port before calamity overtake her. But alas their efforts are vain ! A terrific storm, arises; again the winds toss up huge overwhelming billows. The thunders roar and the vivid lightnings flash, and in their flash can be read the doom of our vessel, whose early fortitude and strength now gone, rides helplessly in the cruel sea. Repeatedly submerged beneath the mountain waves, she can no longer be managed by her terror-stricken crew. At last comes the fatal moment. The ship is in sight of land and makes frantic efforts to reach safety, but the thousands of barnacles now adhering to her hull drag her down and impede her progress. About her the breakers are roaring. Suddenly and with a crash of doom the ship is dashed upon the hidden rocks; her well-built frame trembles and yields to the rending force of the waves; her brave crew are sacrificed to the deep, and a proud and promising career is ended in ruin. Was it the tempest that did it? No, it was the small and apparently in-significant barnacle. After the foregoing elaboration on the chief thought of the poem it would be a reflection on the intelligence of our readers to explain the applicability of this thought to human life and ex-perience. Into every life there come at an earlier or later period mischievous and destructive habits and tendencies. Like the barnacles in the poem their coming is gradual and unobserved, calling for the greatest watchfulness on the part of the individual. They quietly and insinuatingly implant themselves into the very moral fibre of our being, and cling to us with an almost inextric- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 141 able grasp. They are furthermore like the real barnacle in that they continually multiply in number and evil effects, until at last they bring about ignominious death and destruction. A discussion of the formation of habits aud the cultivation of tendencies in early life from a purely psychological standpoint would necessarily be more comprehensive than the scope of this essay permits or the ability of the writer justifies. We shall con-. tent ourselves therefore with the mere facts and their applications. Man, in his moral and spiritual nature, has been defined as a "bundle of habits and tendencies." While this definition may be opeu to just criticism it nevertheless expresses a great psy-chological truth and implies an almost terrifying moral responsi-bility for our daily life and conduct. That character chiefly determines the nature of man's ethical distinctions and mental acts and states is generally acknowledged. That man is morally accountable for most of his own peculiar habits is no less true. This simple truth, from which men are prone to flee, invests life with the greatest responsibility. It is a serious thing to live. Barnacles of habit! What failures, sorrow aud wide-spread misery they are accountable for! Although restricted in their operations to no particular periods of life, they are most likely to appear in the early and formative periods. They meet us at the very threshold of our earthly existence, and with insinuating art invade the sacredness of pure, sweet childhood and youth, firmly attaching themselves to innocent souls and implanting therein the germs of all those evils which go to rob life of its rightful happiness and peace,and render existence through time and eternity one dreary round of sorrow and remorse. In order that we may get a more comprehensive view of the modes of operation of those barnacles of habit as well as their far-reaching effects, we shall now consider the state of the indi-vidual who has become a victim to them : and for our present purpose it is desirable that we treat first the objective influence of this individual in his social relations. We distinguish in this objective influence a two-fold division: First, the influence on others ; Second, the reflex influence, or the influence on self through the solidarity of the race. Both divisions are very important and far-reaching, but between them can be drawn no entirely clear line of demarkation. Clearly an individual's objective influence will be determined largely by his 142 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY intellectual and social status. But laying this consideration aside, it is evident that the average individual exerts a wonderfully great influence upon those about him. His habits of action and even of thought are bound to become, to a certain extent, theirs also, and to just this extent does he become morally responsible for their course of life and conduct. Since men love darkness rather than light, it would seem that his evil habits possess a more operative and effective influence than his good habits. This evil influence, emanating from him, affects not only his immediate companions, but it also leaves its deadly stamp upon the com-munity at large. Indeed the moral tone of the entire human race suffers a positive lowering because of the evil influence of this single individual. We come now to the reflex objective influence of the indi-vidual to whom these barnacles of habit adhere. It is an un-deniable fact that every individual creates to a large extent his own environment. Whether he shall be surrounded by light or darkness, joy or sorrow, righteousness or sin depends largely upon his own course of life and conduct. As an image is reflected in a mirror so is the influence of evil habits reflected in those upon whom it operates, to be seen and experienced again by him in whom it first had its origin. From the standpoint of self-interest, it is just as unreasonable to draw a fellow-man from the path of rectitude and duty as to drag him by main force into a bed of quick sand, for in both cases the aggressor must share the fate of his victim. Thus we see that he who wields an evil influence is not only a dangerous enemy to society, but is also a curse to himself, for he is continually preparing pitfalls for his own feet, and jeopardizing all chance of his ever attaining to moral worth. The subjective influence of the individual calls for treatment now, and it is here that we observe the saddest and most destruc-tive workings of these barnacles of habit. Like the unfortunate ship, whose career we have described, many a life has its begin-ning in comparative purity and strength. Full of confidence in its own powers, it presses boldly on, overcoming obstacle after obstacle. But just as the watery environment of our ship con-tained many hidden and unsuspected dangers, so is the environ-ment of this life teeming with evils which ere long begin to assert themselves. Pernicious habits of temperament, disposition, or passion appear. Silently, but with the inexorableness of Fate THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 143 they undermine all that which is best and noblest in human nature, and in the end bring moral wreck and ruin. Nor is this hideous transformation limited only to the outward expression of char-acter. There is a marked physiological change in the very brain cells of the individual. The very citadel of man's superior glory and strength is attacked and laid low. The intellect is debased and misdirected in its operations. The sensibility is rendered weak and misleading; the will is helplessly bound, as in ada-mantine chains. Beautiful and lofty thoughts, refined feelings, and noble resolves are no longer possible. In their place are low and unworthy conceptions, coarse feelings and ignoble desires and resolutions. If perchance there flash through this night of sin and shame a faint auroral beam of truth and purity, the fettered will can only by the most strenuous effort respond to its uplifting influence. Weoffer no apology for the dark picture here presented; human experience in all ages will testify to its fidelity to stern reality. These hell-born barnacles of habit have destroyed the highest in-tellects and debased the most beautiful characters. All spiritual worth falls before them. For an unutterably sad illustration of this truth, let us take a brief glance at the life of one of England's most distinguished poets, Lord Byron. Although a man of great genius, rank, fame and power, his life was in the end a miserable failure. The barnacles of habit, which first made their appear-ance in him in early youth, clun'g to him to the close of his life with ever increasing bane and deadening influence. Throughout his sad and romantic life he was in continually abject slavery to the Past. The vicious habits formed then asserted their dread power even in his best moments, and, like the hideous Eumenides of old, allowed him no rest, but drove him from shore to shore until, with a prematurely worn out body and destroyed peace of mind, his life, once full of glorious promise but now bereft of all its charm,was sadly ended. The unutterable sorrow and regret of the following lines, written but three months before his death, bar comment: "My days are in the yellow leaf ; The flowers and fruit of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief, Are mine alone. 144 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY But probably the most important phase of our subject is the influence of the individual upon posterity. We stand face to face with the great law of heredity, whose workings are now receiving such general recognition by all intelligent people. If there is one thing which more than any other gives to life solemn and tremendous responsibility it is heredity, for literally, "none of us liveth to himself," but he lives for the whole race, both in this age and in all subsequent ages. We can no longer believe that " each soul is an emanation, fresh and unpolluted, from a divine fountain of being." It is entirely opposed to all our knowledge of psychical phenomena and the modern views on evolution. On the other hand, we must refrain from going to the opposite extreme of the materialist and say that " men are what they were born." The former view imposes upon poor man a terrible burden of responsibility for every slight violation of right which causes him to fall from a state of absolute purity, render-ing his moral condition utterly hopeless. The latter view would lead us to fatalism, and the denial of all responsibility. The former view ignores the existence of the law of heredity ; the lat-ter view would endeavor to explain everything by this law. Heredity is not all. Environment plays an inestimably import-ant part in the development of every human being. The evolu-tion of man is but the history of the operations of these two great forces. Like two Titans, engaged in work upon some great structure, heredity and environment ply their respective tasks, the former continually building with utmost constancy of pur-pose ; the latter capriciously assisting for a time, and then again hindering or destroying the work of the former. It is only by recognizing the existence of these influences, and their effect upon character, that we can arrive at even an elementary knowledge and appreciation of life's problems. We have thus far said but little relative to the will, and its functions in the development of character. We have, however, by our frequent references to moral responsibility in life, implied its existence and over-ruling power. Heredity and environment are not all. Towering above them in dignity and power is the human will, which, if rightly exercised, can overcome to a greater or lesser extent many of their most potent influences. This will necessarily operates in freedom, and it is in this freedom that the responsibilities of life arise. " Each human being is free, and THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 145 therefore responsible, in a measure ; and yet no child has any voice in saying where he shall be born, what blood shall course in his veins, what tendencies shall impel, or what aspirations thrill him."—(Amory H. Bradford.) In thus opposing will to heredity and environment we do not wish to imply that it operates in a field distinctly its own, and is altogether above and free from the influences of the latter. The character of the will is indeed determined to a very large degree by heredity and environment. Should the will of the parent be affected by the barnacles of weakness, indecision and cowardice, we would have reason to expect the same condition in the case of the child. For the sake of illustrating the manner in which a weakness of the will may be inherited, let us cite a sad example. The English poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, was addicted to the use of stimulants. Although he earnestly strove to overcome this tendency, he found that he lacked the will-power necessary for complete abstinence. His son, Hartly Coleridge, also a poet, inherited all his father's weakness in this direction ; and his entire life was a constant and unsuccessful struggle against temptation. In a spirit of despair he wrote of himself: " O ! woeful impotence of weak resolve, Recorded rashly to the writer's shame, Da3rs pass away, and time's large orbs revolve, And every day beholds me still the same ; 'Till oft neglected purpose loses aim, And hope becomes a flat, unheeded lie." And thus these barnacles of habit beset the individual, and accomplish their deadly work. They appear when life is young and sweet, and, like the Sirens, entice him with their soft allure-ments to destruction. As time progresses they tighten their re-morseless hold upon him, and weigh him down beneath their slimy weight of shame remorse and despair. At last death, with a thousand terrors, overtakes him, and another lost soul enters the realm of everlasting darkness. But the evil effects of the barnacles of habit do not end with the death of the individual. The curse is transmitted to subsequent generations. There is started a stream of death, which flows on down through the ages, continually exhaling from its poisonous waters, mixed with tears and blood, the germs of sin, grief, agony and unutterable despair. We shall now conclude this rather meagre and unsatisfactory 146 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY treatment of some of life's great problems. If our essay partakes of too gloomy and despondent a tone to please our reader's ears, its theme should be held accountable, but not its writer. We have endeavored to the best of our ability to set forth some of the more obvious evil effects resulting from the formation of wrong habits of life ; and throughout we have conscientiously endeavored to develop the central thought of L,auier's poem—the powerful influence of the past upon the present. Danier recognized the fact that life, for many an individual, is a ceaseless struggle ; that every attainment of virtue and true worth is reached only by the overcoming of innumerable obstacles, and the resolute and deter-mined resistance to the restraining grasp of the spectral hand which the dead past is ever reaching out to us. In conclusion, we wish to say that, by the very nature of our subject, we have been compelled to depict the darkest side of human nature. That there is a bright side, too, we confidently believe. While it is a serious thing to live, because of life's re-sponsibilities, it is also a blessed thing to live, because of life's glorious opportunities. And for us to invest life with deep gloom and sorrow is not only the height of folly, but it is an insult to ourallwise and loving Maker. The Reign of Righteousness will come ; for, while that which is true and holy will abide and in-crease throughout all time, sin has in itself the seeds of its own decay. " The wages of sin is death." THE BLACK CURL. MAY BELLE DIEHL, '03. TT was a warm day, about the middle of June, when Detective A Elair got to Richard's house. He could see it when he entered the wood, a small house, painted white, with a porch running all around it. Blair was on the search for Richard, better known as "Sly Bill." He had skipped off with about a thousand, one dark night, from the bank in which he was working. Blair had never seen him, but he was sure he would know him as soon as he would see him. As he drew near the house he heard singing, and stopping to listen, he thought he recognized a woman's voice. When he rapped on the door it was opened by a withered old woman who THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 147 curtly inquired what he wanted there. Her face grew a little pale when he asked for her son, but she straightened herself up and said that he had gone. Blair's face fell, but he asked leave to search the house. When that was ended he sat down to think. No trace whatever had he found of the fellow. Instead he found, sitting in her room, the loveliest girl he had ever seen, dark as night. Blair adored dark girls. As he was far from New York he was invited to stay over night. He declined to stay, but afterwards decided to do so and go back the next day. That evening they had a pleasant time chatting on the porch, but Blair had no idea whether either of them suspected what he was there for. He grew to love the girl in those few hours. When they took a walk the next day she coyly asked why he could not stay a little longer. He was delighted and determined to stay until he was ordered to leave. And he did. These two took a great many walks, and one pleasant evening when Blair thought the time had come, he asked her to be his wife. Of course she accepted him and he told her all about New York, and where they would live, etc. But there was only one cloud to mar the pleasure. She shunned him a little, a very little, but Blair saw it and wondered to himself. One evening he asked her why she did this;—they were sitting under a weeping willow by the brook, their favorite spot—she started a little when the question was asked, but looking at the water at her feet she coyly said, "I am afraid if I were with you always I would not be able to let you go when—a—when—the time came to part." He put his arm about her and drew her towards him; but just then there were footsteps and Mrs. Richards called her daughter. The girl arose and rau forward to her mother and they went toward the house together. The next day he got word to start and hunt Richard at another place where he was supposed to have been seen. He decided to go, and on his way stop for "Blanche." The day he left they were in their old place by the brook. Blair had asked her for a certain curl that hung lovingly over her little ear. She cut it off, and when he took it he pressed it to his lips and put it in his card case. While he was on the way to find the thief he received a tele-gram: "Come back at once; thief found." He decided to come 148 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY for his sweetheart later, and set out for New York-. He arrived there a few days later, and when he walked into the office one of the men came up to him and slapped him on the back and said: "Well, old boy, so you were entrapped ?" At this all the other men laughed. Blair looked bewildered, and he was led to a door, which, when it was unlocked was thrown open to his gaze. Blair staggered back and covered his eyes, then opened them and looked again. There in a corner by an opeii window stood— "Blanche," yet not "Blanche." The same dark skin and black eyes and pretty ringlets that Blair had so admired. She(?) held a cigarette between her pearly teeth and a cap sat back on the clustering curls. There came a sneering laugh from between those teeth when Blair came in but "fool!" was the only word that came. But he certainly made a pretty girl! ONE OP COD'S WAIPS. [Second Gies Prize.] C. M. A. STINE, '01. '"pHB train had just roared out of its miles of snowsheds and ■"■ paused for a moment on the summit of the Sierras. It was dusk. The sun had sunk behind the cloud-capped peaks and the platform before the little box of a station was very quiet after the long vestibuled train vanished into the fast approaching night. At the one end of the platform, playing with the pebbles and singing softly to himself, was a rosy cheeked, brown-eyed little boy. He was clothed in a rough suit of jeans many sizes too large, and his soft brown curls peeped through his ragged straw hat. The boy's name was Tom. Tom's father worked in the mines and sometimes Tom became very lonesome with no companions save the great, silent moun-tains. But the moutains answered Tom when he shouted in his childish sports and he thought they sympathized with him en-tirely. His mother had died six long years before, and nobody had thought it worth while to explain to him that it was an echo. To-night, when Tom spied his father in the distance and ran to meet him as usual, he was put aside and told to run away and not bother his father. It was the first time that he had not met THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 149 with a loving welcome and been lifted to his father's shoulder. His soft red lips quivered a moment and the brown eyes filled as he turned silently away. A little later when Tom had eaten his meagre supper and then gone to his bed in one corner, the little cabin was filled with men and Tom heard his father deny some-thing again and again, but he could not quite understand what it was all about. Finally one of the men sprang up, with an oath, and threatened to shoot his father, but the other men pulled him out of the cabin, saying that they offered one alternative, that was that his father go away and not show himself again. His father promised and then came and told Tom to dress himself and come. The trouble was about a large nugget of gold which had dis-appeared mysteriously. Tom's father had been working near the place where the nugget was last seen, and when it disappeared the readiness to suspicion by the rough miners at once asserted itself, and it was agreed that Tom's father could tell more about the lost nugget than he was willing to admit. He was a new-comer and had no friends, so things went hard with him. As the two stole away in the night, Tom, looking back over his father's shoulder as he was carried, saw their little cabin in flames, and when he reported the discovery his father only walked faster and didn't seem to care. But Tom cried a little to himself as he was hurried off, and finally went to sleep on his father's shoulder. The man plodded wearily on for awhile and then laid Tom down under a pine and wrapping him up in his coat, paced up and down till the gray light of dawn crept down from its resting place in the towering peaks. As he walked he talked to himself softly; " Oh, Mary, if you had only stayed. Why did God have to take you ? The brutes! To burn my home and drive me out with my little boy into the mountains to die! I did not take the cursed nugget. Oh, God ! I dare not kill myself. My poor little boy ! You can't realize what it means to you to be the son of a man who has been branded a thief.'' Finally he threw himself beside Tom and, exhausted with work and anxiety, slept till the rays of the morning sun kissed the closed eye-lids of his little boy and awoke him. The little fellow called his father, and the two trudged wearily on till they came to another mining town. The father bought a meagre dinner from one of the cabins ISO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY which a huge board proclaimed a " Restournt." He took Tom to a cabin and gave a woman some money, asking her to keep the little fellow till he came back. Then he took Tom aside, looking at him a long time, told him to grow up to be a good man, and stroked Tom's soft brown hair awhile. At last he took a tiny locket from within his ragged blue shirt and hung the delicate chain around Tom's neck and showed him how to look at the picture of the sweet, girlish face within. He held Tom's head in his hands and gazed into the deep brown eyes as if looking for the resemblance to the face in the locket. The look in his father's face made the little fellow feel like crying, though he knew it wasn't manly to cry. That evening they brought his father back to the little town and a couple men hastily buried the body for decency's sake- There was a bullet hole in the forehead. " He had committed suicide, because his revolver had one chamber empty and was found lying beside him." Such was the verdict of the astute coroner. No one took the trouble to look about near the scene of the supposed suicide or they might have found the loaded shell which had been taken from one chamber of the revolver tossed there by the coward who had threatened to shoot him by his very fireside, and now had accomplished his craven will from a con-cealed spot among the rocks. The same villain who took the gold now had covered up his crime with an almost devilish cun-ning. He escaped punishment on earth, unless his own dark thoughts tormented him. The woman kept Tom for awhile, but she had many cares of her own and finally Tom was left to make a living for himself. The little fellow (just five summers he had seen) did all sorts of odd jobs, but was hungry always, only sometimes not quite as much as at others. One night it rained and Tom caught cold. The next day he couldn't work and one of the miners pitied the little fellow and took him to his home. For a few weeks Tom was very sick, but he was carefully watched over by the great-hearted Christian mother, who willingly undertook the care of the homeless, ragged little stranger, a part of whose pitiful ex-perience she knew. At last, one day, the great brown eyes opened and the fire of intelligence was once more alight within THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 151 them. He finally got well and received work in the company store. We must pass over a period of ten years, during which the little lad grew to be a strong, intelligent, kind-hearted youth. His restless spirit and his thirst for knowledge induced him, at the end of his sixteenth year, to take a sad leave of the woman who had cared for him as tenderly as a mother, and whom he had learned to love. At parting he left with her the delicate gold chain of peculiar workmanship, but took the locket himself. He said that he intended to find work, get a college education, and some day he would return. When, he did not know. Three years more slipped away. The little mining town had grown with a mushroom-like growth to the size of a great city. Many new mining industries had arisen. One morning a grey haired, withered old woman offered flowers for sale to an equally grey and old, but richly dressed and proud-faced woman, who, attracted by the magnificent roses of the old flower-woman, had ordered her carriage to stop. She bestowed a passing glance on the poorly dressed little woman and was about to turn again to the roses when she uttered an exclamation and demanded to know where this woman, who probably had never had money enough to buy a fine dress, could have gotten the strangely fashioned and costly chain which had slipped into view from beneath the old flower-woman's wrap. She became more agitated as the old flower-woman took the chain off and permitted her to examine it. Passers-by were astonished to see the rich and fashionable Mrs. Grayson in earnest conversation with a poor old flower-woman. Finally she out-raged the refined sensibilities of her sister, who had been leaning listlessly back in the carriage, by actually taking the shabby old woman into her carriage and ordering the coachman to drive home. "Oh, Marion, what will our friends say?" But this phrase, which usually had the desired effect, seemed spoken to deaf ears. A look into Mrs. Grayson's pale face silenced her. The old flower-woman related how Tom had come to her when a little sick lad and left her after he had grown almost to manhood, and how she had never heard of him since. The old woman's voice trembled and her faded old face took additional ti. i ii. ,.«■——w ii minim HW.IU. 152 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY lines as she told bow she longed to see her lost boy. And then her grief gave place to wonder as she discovered that the woman beside her was shedding tears from eyes that had almost forgotten what tears were. " It is certainly my daughter's son," she exclaimed, noticing the look of wonder on the face of the old flower-woman. " But where is the locket?" and she indicated the place on the chain where the locket had hung. " He kept the locket," the old flower-woman answered. Then Mrs. Grayson explained in a voice frequently inter-rupted by grief how her daughter, when but a young girl, had fallen in love with a wild young civil engineer, and on her parents' absolute refusal of their consent, had disappeared and not been heard from. The chain and locket with a picture of the young girl had been given to her daughter by her on a birthday before she left home. The mother had loved her daughter most tenderly, and when the little boy, Tom, was but a few months old the mother had received a letter asking her, if anything should happen his mother, to take care of the little fellow. She had then tried to find her daughter, but they had gone farther West and she never again heard, and did not know that her daughter was dead, though she had feared that such must be the case. That night the wires sang and operators were astonished at the number of messages and inquiries, all relating to the same man. They hesitated between the belief that the man who created all this inquiry was a murderer and the belief that he was an absconding bank cashier. But all inquiry was in vain. The past refused to give a clue to the present. Detectives who had never failed before gave up the vain search. Mrs. Grayson came to the end of her resources. All that wealth could do had been done, without result. She had shown her gratitude to the old flower-woman by making her comfortable for the remainder of her life. She, herself, decided to go abroad in search for lost health, and perhaps, deep down in her heart, she thought that some kind providence would reveal her grandson, for whom she had a very tender and deep affection as the son of her erring, but well be-loved, daughter. One day on the deck of the steamer she found a man's watch THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 153 and chain, and at once the charm on the chain caught her eye. It was the missing locket. She touched a spring and found her-self gazing, with tear dimmed eyes, at the smiling face of her daughter pictured within. A moment later a young man inquired of her for a watch and chain that he thought must have slipped from his clothing as he lounged in a steamer chair. The law of heredity had told. The strain of refinement showed itself in that, through all these years of hard work and rough surroundings, he had succeeded, and was the quiet, re-fined looking fellow the grandmother had longed to see. He had managed to earn his way through a business college, and now as private secretary of a well-to-do merchant was in a fair way to reach his goal, a higher education. Without a word the grandmother fastened the locket in its place on the curious old chain which she had received again through the old flower-woman, and handed the beautiful bit of jewelry to him. Ten minutes later the lazy passengers were astonished to see Mrs. Grayson go by leaning on the arm of a tall, brown-eyed fel-low (for she was old and the ship swayed on the ocean swell), and to notice that there were actually tears on the aristocratic old face, and a suspicious moisture in the eyes of the young fellow who helped her along so carefully, and with such a caressing touch. God had cared for and watched over the motherless waif, and when human strength had failed to unite relatives, in His fathomless love He gave the young man a loving mother in place of the mother he had lost so many years ago. CONSCIOUSNESS. Within the silent rock exist A billion yearning- lives. Man is a petty egotist To think he only strives, To think he only struggles up To God through toil and pain. He is but one drop in a cup Filled from the mighty main. The flowers have tender little souls, That love, repine, aspire. 1S4 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Each star that on its orbit rolls, Feels infinite desire. The diamond longs to scintillate When hid beneath the sod. The universe is animate With consciousness of God. —E1.1.A WHEELER WILCOX, IN COLLIER'S WEEKLY. G^U HONOR, OR HONORS? (Gits Prut Production, Third Prize.) D. C. BURNITE, '01. "TN the world's broad field of battle" each contestant must have •*■ a purpose. This life has been called the "struggle for existence." This might be said, with some measure of truth, of some of the meanest of God's creatures, but such a purpose is unworthy of one made in His image. We struggle for more than mere existence. Each has a definite end towards which he strives, an ideal he seeks to imitate. A man's moral character is measured by his ideal. The higher his ideal, the nobler his traits of character. And how many there are who fail to realize the importance of the choice of an ideal! Many persons are, unfortunately, accustomed to act before they think. They do not consider tbat there are two sides to every question. Attracted by the brilliant achievements of others, without considering the means and methods by which such persons have attained their ends, they set up a goal, towards which they blindly direct their course of action, forgetful of everything but success. Comparatively few men can stand success. As in the case of the misguided Mohammed, with the attainment of distinction comes a change of character. Too often do men forsake honor in the strife for honors. Yet honors are not to be wholly despised. Even the most modest persons experience some satisfaction when the success of their efforts meets with the approval of their fellows. And the pursuit of such approval cannot justly be condemned if attended by sturdiness of character and the pre-servation of honor. On the contrary, such a course can be com-mended, for its successful outcome is not only a source of gratifi- THE GETl^YSBURG MERCURY 155 cation to the participant himself, but brings joy to his friends and credit to his community. But not all the honors that mankind can bestow can compensate for the loss of one grain of honor. "An honest man's the noblest work of God." Shall we, then, labor to win the empty praises of men, or to fulfill our Maker's design? With honors as the one end for which we strive, honor may be lost; but if all we do is done with this one purpose in view, the building up of an honorable character, sufficient honors will surely come. What man's name is more honored than that of "honest Abe Lincoln?" Each year our nation celebrates the memory of the virtuous Washington. The humble works ofMoody have brought him esteem, more sincere than could any other achievement, political or military. These are men who have worked, not for honors, but for honor, and obtained both. But what a host of men have forgotten character in the race for glory! The pursuit of honors under such circumstances is vain. What availed all the distinctions won by the intriguing Caesar? The name of Nero is remembered, not so much as that of a great Roman emperor, as that of history's most cruel tyrant. It was checked ambition which led Benedict Arnold to give his name to history, not as a successful American general, but as a traitor. For those the maintenance of honor was impossible, with honors alone in view. This fault of excessive ambition appears not only in past history, but also in that of the present. Men are no less inclined to endanger their good names in the pursuit of honors now than they have always been. But the means taken are somewhat different. The days of bloodshed and outright robbery to gain distinction are past; but the practice of falsehood, cheating and inti'igue has scarcely abated. It is too true that in these days honors accompany riches. By a large majority of people the wealthy are respected and courted because of their possessions only. And this being realized, many are the means taken to acquire wealth. Many a man starts out into business with the avowed intention of letting right rule his every act and word. But the ever appearing opportunity of telling a "business lie," or perpetrating one of the numerous "tricks of trade," assails him at every turn. Unless he recalls and clings to his good resolve, the first step below the level of 1S6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY honesty is too frequently the beginning of a general weakening of character, the loss of which he imagines is repaid by the acquirement of wealth and all the honors it brings. The honors attendant upon political eminence are particularly attractive. It is very easy for the political aspirant to be induced to employ falsehood and intrigue as assistants in reaching coveted ends, and it is to be deplored that these means too often are successful in producing the desired results, not only in connection with our town and state affairs, but in the government of our nation itself. So prevalent are such practices that a great pro-portion of our populace firmly believe that political honors and personal honor are incompatible. But business and politics are not the only directions in which honor can be lost to honors. There is scarcely one line of labor which does not offer abundant chances for deterioration of character. And not only at one time of life may we have this delusive ambition. It appears alike in the old and young. In fact, the evil practices of men are generally the continuation of dishonorable habits formed in early life. Nowhere is this sacrifice of honor for honors practiced so much as in our institutions of learning—those places where young men are finishing the mould-ing of characters that are to endure all through manhood. It is a cause of regret that so many in such places seem not to realize the importance of right dealing at this period of life. The bestowal of honors in the shape of high grades, in most schools and colleges, is based, not upon what the student has the ability to do—for it would be impossible to ascertain that accu-rately— but upon what he makes his instructors think he can do. What an inducement for wrong-doing, especially if these honors take the form of material rewards, or even verbal approval. He who in his zeal for honors lays aside honor, can find countless methods by which he may create the required good impression upon the minds of his tutors. And many do find and use these methods. The bane of our institutions of learning is the extensive practice of cheating, the great prevalence of the inclination to do wrong for the sake of advanced notation. Too many students are willing to give honor for honors. College credits, rightly acquired, are worthy of attainment, for they are evidence to the student himself of his real worth. But dishonestly obtained, they are nothing. And the excessive THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 157 use of this latter method of obtaining honors renders the whole system of numerical or alphabetical notation almost useless as a standard for the judgment of ability. But the majority of students fail to see this, and regard these honors as the one goal towards which they must bend their efforts, and to make the process easy, many stoop to unworthy methods. How utterly foolish such deeds ! For a few short years of self-satisfaction, for the praise of friends, and for the sake of transient credit, they are willing to injure that which is designed to regulate the whole course of life, the character. Too frequently we are mistaken in our conception of what true honors are. We consider the approval of a large number of persons as sufficient to call an attainment an honor. But true honors are not those regarded as such by many, but by certain men—the wise, the good, and by One who is infinitely wiser and better, the Great Judge. It is in His sight that the deepening of character becomes in itself an honor. With these thoughts in mind, let us ask ourselves, "For what shall we strive ? For that which will please our Maker or for the praise of men ; for self-improvement or vain glory ; for honor or honors?' ' Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy— Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy. They come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear. Long, long be my heart with such memories filled, Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled; You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will cling 'round it still. -MOOKK. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Voi,. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1900. No. 5. Editor-in- Chief, S. A. VAN ORMEK, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HBTRICK, W. A. KOHLER. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY. Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg") College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending- the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORS' DESK. "EVERYTHING points to a successful year for Pennsylvania *-* College ! A larger Freshman class, to the members of which—though too late to extend a welcome—THE MERCURY extends a greeting and an invitation to contribute to her columns ; a lively, healthy, interesting athletics ; a rival of the old-time enthusiasm in getting new men into the literary societies; an exceptional feeling of good-will among the students ; and a com-mendable harmony pervading the whole institution ; all these signs seem to augur a " star" year in the history of the college. Let us all conduct ourselves as students worthy the proffered privileges ! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 159 HPHERE is no more opportune time to urge the expediency of * regularly attending and actively participating in the work of our literary societies than at the beginning of the college year for the old students, and of the college course for the new. The college graduate, no matter in what profession he may be engaged, will frequently be called upon in public meetings, either to conduct the proceedings or give his opinion and counsel. How often, with a brilliant college record behind him, he hesitates or reluctantly accepts, only to stumble and falter in speech, or dis-play a grievous ignorance of parliamentary practice, to his own confusion and the disgust of those assembled. Opportunities to rise into public notice, to win the confidence of his community, and, in general, to exhibit qualifications for public duty and trust, are thus allowed to pass unimproved, and the disappointed aspirant is obliged to confine his interests and activities to the narrow channels of professional routine, and tamely work out his ordinary destiny on the dead level of professional common-place ; all because in his struggle for class standing, distinction in col-lege sports or general college activities, if not because of utter indifference, he has neglected the literary societies and their training. Too often the training there imparted is depreciated, and re-garded as a college incidental of collateral importance and in-terest, and not an essential and supplementary part of one's equipment for life—a part, indeed, of higher market value in the world to-day than that any department of study in the college curriculum can furnish. The literary societies are both animated by a spirit of earnest endeavor—a spirit which, though it savors of rivalry and competition, is modified by a sympathetic interest in the literary culture of all members. Their doors are ever open to visitors, and welcome ever warm to applicants. -K. **p LITERARY INOTES. HTHE publication at this time of the United States Government's *■ History of the Civil War in 128 volumes of narrative, and 35 volumes of maps, makes very tiniely the publication of Col. Thomas L,. Iyivermore's " Numbers and L,osses in the Civil War." The work is based upon official information contained in per- 160 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY mauent department records of both sides in the struggle, and gives the numbers engaged and the losses sustained in the long contest between the North and the South. Messrs. Houghton, Mifflin & Co. will publish the work. Jt Edna Dean Proctor, whose " Poems," chiefly of New England subjects, have won for her an enviable reputation, has in press with the Messrs. Houghton, Miffliu&Co. a new volume of verse, which relates entirely to New Hampshire, her native State. The book will be issued under the title, " A Mountain Maid, and Other Poems of New Hampshire." It will be illustrated by a number of reproductions of photographs of some of the romantic mountain and other scenery of the " Old Granite State." j* The publishers of " David Harum" give some interesting statistics regarding that work, now in its 436th thousand : Over 5,000 pounds of ink, 5,865 reams of paper, and 1,900 miles of thread have been used in making the books. If placed end to end they would extend for more than fifty miles. e^b THE MAIDEN ALL PORLORN. STANLEY C FOWLEB, '04. "IT'S de gospel truff I'm a tellin yo'. Dis yere house am ■*■ ha'nted shur nuff." " What's up now ?" asked Mr. Bently, looking up from his morning paper. George Washington rolled his eyes and twiddled his thumbs as he repeated his former assertion : " Dat de house am ha'nted." "Where did you obtain this pleasant information?" Mr. Bently demanded. " W'a a young gen'lenian, dats a stayin' downhe'ar, tole me dat de spook ob a beau'ful lady walks up in de garret. Dis lady used ter lib he'ar, when dis yer house was fust built, wid an ole uncle who wanted ter marry her ter his son, so's he'd git her money, but she wa' dead in lub wid a young fellar dat she used to meet ' clandistinctly.' One night dis ole uncle spied her a goin' up ter de garret an' cotched her a makin' signals out of dat THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 161 ' oriole' window to de fellar. De ole wretch locked her in de room, an' stole down an' waited fo' de young man, an' killed him while she wa' a lookin' at 'em. She went crazy, an'used ter steal up dere ebery Wednesday night (fo' dat's de night her uncle killed him), an' moan an' groan about him, an' when she died her spook walked. De people called her ' De Maiden All Forlorn.' " And having delivered this pleasant piece of news, George Washington retired. Here was a pretty state of affairs. Mr. Bently had spent three days with his wife and nephews at the large, old-fashioned man-sion on the Hudson, that he had recenttypurchased for a summer residence. These nephews, while at college, had earned the reputation of being " wild," but had developed into two quiet cads during the three days spent in the company of their aunt; much to the de-light of that estimable lady, and disgust of her husband. Mr. Bently rubbed his ears reflectively, and said, " George Washington's name is a warrant for his veracity, but, Good Dord ! just think of living in a house inhabited by a spook ! It's just like you, Tom Bently, to buy a place like this. What will you poor boys do when she begins to walk and groan ?" asked Mr. Bently. '' I will lay me down in peace and take my rest; for it is Thine, Dord only, that makest me dwell in safety," said Fred, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Will, the younger nephew, was too deeply interested in "Uncle Tom's Cabin," which he had been reading for the past few days, to pay any attention to the conversation. Well, if she's going to walk she'll do it to-night. But say, Fred, how will that club of yours, that you have invited to spend every Wednesday night here, stand it?" asked Mr. Bently. " They are all Christian boys, and fear nothing," said Fred. Mr. Bently's foot itched to connect with Fred, but, fearing his wife's anger, he found satisfaction in kicking the dog. " Well, it's queer that the agent forgot to mention ' The Maiden All Forlorn.' I'm going to examine the garret," and off Mr. Bently stamped. The garret had two very large rooms. One which had an oriel window, overlooking the river, opened into another smaller room, in which were a wooden table and several large packing 162 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY cases. This room opened into a large closet with a door at one end. Mr. Bently found it to be locked and the key missing. After getting the lay of the land for future emergencies, he hur-ried down to welcome the guests. They were six of the gayest looking " Christian" boys he had ever seen. His spirits rose only to fall again, for they proved to be the exact counterparts of his nephews. Mr. Bently's blissful snoring was brought to an abrupt end. " There, that's her ! Don't youhearthat noise ? Go up and see what it is !" said Mrs. Bently, who was sitting bolt upright in bed. It is needless to say that Mr. Bently failed to display a proper spirit of eagerness or enthusiasm at his wife's command, but a few prods from her succeeded in instilling the proper degree of courageousness necessary for such an undertaking. Calling for George Washington, who came running along with a bamboo cane in his hand, Mr. Bently handed him a pistol, some matches and a lighted candle; and after taking the cane from him, ordered him to lead the way. Trembling with fear they climbed the garret stairs, and just as George Washington was opening the garret door he sneezed, and out went the candle. " Light that candle ! " screamed Mr. Bently. Poor George was so excited that he succeeded in dropping the matches, and after Mr. Bently groped about in the dark, consol-ing himself and blessing George audibly, he was forced to proceed in total darkness. George plucked up sufficient courage to open the door very slowly, and both stole in. The moonlight was stealing through the window, and there, walking, or rather gliding over to it, her gauzy drapery floating gracefully behind her, was a beautiful young girl. George Wash-ington gave one yell and fled, tripping Mr. Bently, who did not take the time to rise to his feet, but scampered on all fours, fin-ishing a close second to George ; for Mr. Bently, instead of run-ning down stairs, jumped. He sailed through the air like a comet, his dressing gown floating majestically behind him as stiff as a board. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 163 When he lauded he imagined that he heard a chuckle, but turning he beheld George Washington shaking like a lump of jelly and muttering his prayers. "Say, George, I'll give you five dollars ifyou will completely forget this little excursion," said Mr. Bently. " All right, sah," said George. The next day, while strolling in the grounds, Mr. Bently was surprised to hear voices coming from behind a clump of bushes. Hearing his name mentioned, he listened and heard his nephew's voice say, " George, tell us how he looked when he sailed down stairs." Then he heard George Washington's voice answer, " Well, Massa Fred, he done went so fast ah could only see a streak ob him from de top to de bottom ob de stairs.'' Here then was a burst of laughter. Mr. Bently turned savagely on his heel and stalked away muttering, " The black snoozer. I'll choke him. Wait, I'll surprise them yet." Next Wednesday Mrs. Bently announced her intention of sleeping in the left wing of the house, far from the stamping ground of the maiden. Mr. Bently said nothing, but looked very wise. It was almost midnight, and Mr. Bently, fully dressed, his feet shod with soft felt slippers, and carrying a dark-lantern, slowly ascended the garret stairs. He trembled so violently as he turned the knob of the door that he was forced to lean against the wall for a minute. He finally opened it and peeped in. All was quiet and serene, so he tiptoed into the room. Presently he heard footsteps, and hastily shading the lantern saw George Washington walk by and enter the smaller room. As the door opened a flood of light came out, and he heard the sound of many feet tramping. Then he heard Will singing : " O, the youngest son, was a son of a gun, He was, he was, He shuffled the cards and he played for mon, He did, he did." Mr. Bently stole up and peeped into the room through the crack, for George had neglected to shut the door tightly. There sat Will and five "Christian boys" around the wooden table, on which were cards and chips. Fred was boxing with the re-maining " Christian boy," both clad in scant attire. George Washington was opening some bottles of champagne. 164 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY " Come, Ed, it's time that you did your act," said Will. Ed, a big, broad-shouldered fellow, arose aud placed a big blonde wig on his head and donned a long white wrapper. Then he draped some gauze about his shoulders. As he took off his shoe he dropped it. " Are they blasting rock as late as this?" innocently asked Will. " You horrid thing, to make fun of my little shoes. I'll hit you real hard," said Ed as he sent the other number eight sail-ing through the air in the direction of Will's head. When Ed had completed his toilet he stole up to Will, and laying his head on his shoulder, gazed up into his eyes and said, " Does 'oo love 'oo little tootsey-wootsey ?" " He should, ior he lost enough filthy lucre to you last club night," said Fred. Will sang " Thou'rt Like Unto a Flower," and was telling Ed how he " longed on those golden tresses his folded hands to lay," when Ed threw back his head and gave voice to such a howl as human ear had never heard before. It was the bray-ing of a donkey and the howling of a clog, blended harmoniously into one cry, " in linked sweetness long drawn out." "Suffering Moses! When did you cultivate that howl?" asked Will. " I got my inspiration from a Wagnerian chorus that I had the agony of listening to for about four hours and a half. I've practiced it for the past week. Dos't think it sounds like The Maiden All Forlorn singing, " Where Art Thou Now, My Be-loved?" said Ed. " She must have sung like a snorting gale," said Fred. " Say, George Washington, you told that tale with good effect. Who coached you?" asked Ed. " Ah belong to de ' Moonlight Dramatic Association,' " said George, proudly. " Gee," whispered Will, "I should think so many clouds would spoil the moonlight." " Go on, Ed, and do your act. The old gentleman may in-vestigate again," said Will. " Not much. He has his nightcap pulled down over his ears and his head buried under the pillows," said Ed. This was too much, and Mr. Beutly threw open the door and —MI im>i»nm—P THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 165 walked in. What a scene ! George Washington dropped on his knees, saying, " "Tis me father's ghost," in tones that would make the " Divine Sarah" turn green with envy. The Maiden All Forlorn, like the proverbial ostrich, had her head buried in a packing case, and her pedal extremities waving frantically in the air. A row of coat-tails were fast disappearing under the table. Only Fred remained cool and collected. " Good morning, gentlemen," said Mr. Bently. "Good morning, uncle. Won't you join the 'Precious Pearls' in their exercises ?" said Fred. " Don't care if I do," said Mr. Bently. A howl came from the depth of the packing case, where the Damsel Crowned With Rue had taken refuge. A head slowly appeared from the opposite side of the table. " But, uncle, I thought that you didn't approve of poker ?" " That's when your aunt's listening," said Mr. Bently, giving a sly wink. " Whose idea was this ?" " Mine," answered Will. " You see, Aunt Ann insisted on my reading ' Uncle Tom's Cabin,' and I thought that Cassy's racket might work here. It's diplomacy, you know." " And blamed good diplomacy. How do you get up here ?" asked Mr. Bently. " There's a flight of stairs leading from a closet in our room to that door in there," said Fred, pointing to the door in the closet of the room. " Well, it's a mighty good racket so long as your aunt don't investigate," said Mr. Bently. c^p THE NATIONAL NOMINATING CONVENTION. T}RIOR to the year 1825 candidates for President and Vice- A President were nominated by what was called the Con-gressional Caucus. Its power had become so great that a nomi-nation by the Caucus had come to be equivalent to an election. But when it attempted to force upon the people as candidates for the Presidency ir in whom the rank and file of the party did not wish, its usefulness was in question, and because of its persistence 166 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY in such obnoxious actions it lost all its power and influence and came to an inglorious end during the campaign of 1824. Throughout the stage of transition from the Congressional Caucus to the National Nominating Convention the State Legis-lative Caucus assumed the duty of making the presidential nomi-nations. The plan for nominating presidential candidates by means of a national convention had been proposed by different individuals and newspapers opposed to the Congressional Caucus and was under discussion for several years ; but the difficulties in the way, together with the lack of agreement on the part of the people, had prevented a general movement in favor of the plan. Some of the difficulties began to disappear as facilities for com-munication between the States improved with the improved roads and the building of railways. The first call for a national nominating convention was sent out by the Anti-Masonic party in 1830. Thirteen States were represented in this first national convention. An address to the people of the United States was issued and nominations for President and Vice-President were made. The convention idea was now in the air and was promptly adopted by the two great parties. The city of Baltimore has the honor of being the place where candidates for President and Vice-President were first nominated by national conventions. The procedure of these Baltimore conventions was in many particulars much like that of National Conventions to-day. There was the temporary organi-zation, the examination of credentials, the permanent organization, the address to the people setting forth party principles and assail-ing the principles of other parties, the "nominating speeches," and the committee to notify those nominated of the honor conferred. There was no formal"platform " adopted at the first conventions. This feature was introduced by a gathering of young men which met in May, 1832, in the interest of Henry Clay's candidacy. At this meeting a series of resolutions were adopted which, in the language of Mr. Bryce, "constituted the first political plat-form ever put forth by a nominating body." In the National Convention of the present the "platform" occupies a conspicuous place. Three ideas are now seen to enter necessarily into a political platform. There is first a statement of the general fundamental principles for which the party stands. Secondly, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 167 there is a conscious effort to set forth a specific policy to be pursued under existing circumstances and conditions. And, third, the platform carries with it a pledge, stated or implied, that the party will be true to its historic principles and will carry out the policy outlined. The Anti-Masons contributed to convention organization the suggestion that each State should send as many delegates as it had electoral votes, and the National Republicans the suggestion that the delegates be elected by Congressional districts. In the early conventions the number of delegates from each State was not limited, though the number of votes was restricted to the number of electors. For twenty years from 1852 the number of delegates from each State to Democratic conventions was fixed at double the number of electors and each delegate was given a half a vote. In 1872 this rule was changed so as to give to each delegate a full vote and retain the number of delegates at double that of the electors. The Republicans had adopted this latter rule twelve years before, and it is still in force in both parties. Two delegates from each territory are admitted to Republican conventions, with the privilege of voting. Democratic conventions do not grant this privilege to territorial delegates. Since the year 1892 the Republican party requires every State to elect its delegates by Congressional districts. The Democratic party has two methods in general use. The two delegates to which each Congressional district is entitled are chosen by that district, while the State Convention elects the four "delegates-at-large" for the whole State. There is also a difference between the Republican and Democratic Conventions with respect to some other important rules—the Two-Thirds Rule, the Majority Rule and the Unit Rule. The first Democratic Convention adopted a rule declaring "that two-thirds of the whole number of votes in the convention shall be necessary to constitute a choice." This rule has been reaffirmed by every subsequent Democratic Convention. The Majority Rule was adopted by the Whigs in 1840, and is the rule which has been used by the Republican Conventions up to the present time. The first Democratic Convention also adopted a rule which has been understood to give to the majority of the delegates from any State the right to cast the vote of the State. This is known 168 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY as the Unit Rule. It disregards the wishes of the minority in any particular State and at the same time makes it possible for candi-dates to be nominated who are approved by a minority only of the party voters of the country. But as tending to exalt the rights of the State as such, the Unit Rule has been much favored by Democratic State Conventions, which have often instructed their delegates to national conventions to vote as a unit. In Republican National Conventions the Unit Rule never gained foothold, though efforts have been made to impose it upon the party. The rule which is now in force was adopted in 1880. It requires that in case any delegate objects to the announcement made by the chairman of his delegation, "the president of the convention shall direct the roll of members of such delegation to be called and the result recorded in accordance with the votes individually given." The National Nominating Convention has come to be such an important factor in our form of government that every citizen should become as familiar with its organization and manner of working as with the Constitution itself. An insight into the methods of the great political leaders framing the future policies of the nation, together with an opportunity to witness the delib-erations of the men who control the destinies of the country— especially at this important period of our national existence— ought to be sought by every young man who glories in the proud name of an American citizen. "PROMETHEUS." AN EXPOSITION.—THE LAW OF ENERGY. HAVING cut a small square out of a card-board screen, hold the screen in a vertical position near a lighted lamp be-tween the lamp and the wall. In your imagination, connect the corners of the illumined surface on the wall with the corresponding corners of the square hole in the screen. The connecting cords converge, and, if con-tinued through the hole, will meet in the flame of your lamp. The square pyramid thus formed may be seen if there is dust in the atmosphere. The part of this pyramid between the lamp and the screen, is also a pyramid, similarto the whole. By geometry, we know that the sides of these two squares are proportional to their respective distances from the point in the flame where the imaginary cords meet; hence, their areas are proportional to the squares of their distances from the flame. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 169 A bunch of rays of light that will light up the surface the size of the hole in the screen, if let pass on, will illuminate the much larger surface on the wall. Evidently, the degree of brightness is not so. great at the wall as at the screen. This degree of brightness varies as the respective areas, just as a given quantity of paint is four times as thick on a certain surface as on another surface four times as great, supposing it is evenly distributed in each case. But, we have shown that the illumined surfaces are to each other as the squares of the distances from the source of light, hence the first part of the law for the intensity of light energy. The amount of radiant energy of light to the square inch of surface varies inversely as the square of the distance from the source. Now, turn up the wick and the amount is a certain part greater at both places. It can at once be seen that the amount increases in direct ratio with the increase at the source of light. This gives us the second part of the law ; and the entire law may be stated thus: The amount of light received per unit area is inversely pro-portional to the squares of the distances from the source, and directly proportional to the intensity of light possessed by the luminous body. A student of physics has but this one law to learn for intensity of energy, and he may apply it to physical energy of whatever form. By using a screen of alum solution we might produce a similar pyramid of heat energy, able to be outlined as definitely by using a thermometer. You know it better perhaps by trying to get into the shade, as it were, of the hot rays from a stove or grate, by placing a screen, it may be of glass even, before your face. Then, as to the law, how instinctively you move back from a stove becoming too hot. The same law holds the solar system together, and we call the force, there acting in couformity with the law, the force of gravitation. There is also a similar force acting between the earth and objects upon it, and between these objects themselves. This, too, varies inversely as the square of the distances, and directly as the product of the masses. By it, electrical attraction is governed; hence, the specific inductivity of substances. Magnetic force and sound as well as light and heat vary accord-ing to the same law. In short, all physical energy varies inversely as the square of the distance, and directly as the product of the amounts. Nature is simple if we put ourselves into the spirit of her actions. She is open, ready to be read by all who will. As to the degree of energy we have learned her simple law and may apply it theoretically without a question. L,ucus. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. F?. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG . Our collection of Woolens for the coming Kail and "Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing Goods, go to I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON Superintendent. flammelstoiun Bromn Stone Gompany Quarrynieu and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAiHER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 207, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay- Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA ■'""■"■""/'*»

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

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

Issue 44.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1985. ; Expectations of CommUnity Inculturation A Theology of Death and Grief The Discernment of Ministry: a Process Volume 44 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 1985 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIG|OUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EVlEW FOR R ELtqtOUS~ Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write R EV1EW FOR RELIGtOUg P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1985 Volume 44 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW t-'on RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 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. Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis Martin O'Reilly, C E C. This article by Brother O'Reilly, Formation Director for his community in Liberia and Sierra Leone was originally prepared as a position paper undertaken in connection ,with the development of a novitiate program for West Africans seeking to join his community. Brothe,r may be addressed care of the Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia. It is difficult to name what'is a~tually done in religious formation. Although the enterprise has a recognizable history dating back at least to the time of St. Benedict, when we raise the question: What are we doing when we form others to be religious? there is little consensus about the nature of the activity. A more abstract question, .such as: What is Religious IJfe? might be more easily answered. But religious formation is not an ahistorical abstraction. - It is a practical activity. Men and women enter religious communities, and other men and women are "sent" to form them. Formation, as such, does not exist, there is only what people do, and want to do, in its name. This article will consist of a brief survey.of the principle approaches to religious formation current today, anda proposed tentative defintion of formation that gives equal weight to the past, present and future dimensions of a religious community. Although theory will not provide simplistic answers to such questions as: "When do we give the habit?" it does provide a basis for ascertaining whether one's practices are consistent with one's beliefs and for understanding how new insights and differing circumstances may modify existing practices. Perennialist Conception of Religious Formation The ."perennialist" position, exemplified by much of pre-Vatican II 1101 1~02 / Review for Religious, November-Dec.ember, 1985 religious formation, is based mainly on the authoritative position of the "formator" as the person entrusted with the task of instructing others in the perennial truths of religious life. The relationship of formator and those being "formed" is in the context of master and pupils. The person who is responsible for formation is very conscious of the expectations of those in higher authority that, certain permanent truths are being taught in a didac-tic manner. The principal model of instruction is that best described as "teaching." The starting point is usually the prescribed constitutions, the life of the founder or foundress, and the history of the congregation. The theoretical motivation for both formator and those being formed is in essence the same: he or she is to teach, and the novices are to learn. Of course, it is presumed that there are other factors operating, so that the novices' personal understanding of being religious is complemented by their actual life in community. The duties of a good religious are empha-sized in various ways: by being reminded of their personal responsibility for coming to know and accept their call from God through frequent conferences; by being encouraged to be loyal to their formation group, and to be obedient at all times to those in authority. Besides regular prayer and Mass, numerous devotional exercises and retreat days ensure that a sense of piety is being fostered. It is quite natural that such an'approach to formation tends to emphasize the descriptive rather than the prescriptive elements of religious life. The value of much of its style and method is in its precision in indicating what has to be learned and understood about becoming a religious. But by the same token it is all too easy to produce a hothouse variety of religious who, vocation-wise, wither in the more temperate zones of regular and imperfect community life. Such an approach can fail to distinguish sufficiently between the precepts of the religious life and the vocational growth and development of those in formation, with the result that conformity is substituted for free response. This is not to say that the perennialist approach is altogether unsatisfac-tory. Many outstanding religious have come through such an initiation into religious life. For those who have come from devout Christian homes, such a formation style undoubtedly offers a security and an initial certainty that religious life is for them. But however beneficial such a model of formation may be for some, it can only be unrealistic in relation to those coming from a secularized background,,or who live in a situation where the Church herself is still very young. Essentialist Conception of Religious Formation The essentialist position, as represented by ReneCarpentier, holds that Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 1103 the .religious life is "above all things a life, a Christian life, a life based on the Gospel and one with the Church."1 Carpentier's work in Belgiumin the 1950s convinced him that the obligations of religious life seemed to be treated as ends in themselves. There was very little Good News about the religious life~ He therefore advocated a return to the sources of religious life, viz. Christ, the Church, and the Scriptures. The biggest challenge offered by Carpentier to religious formators was for them to underpin their work with a genuine theology of religious life: ~It is not enough to show them the religious state as a life apart, closed in oh itself and "withdrawn from the world." It is to the religious life, within the Church, that our Lord's words may be applied: "You are the light of the world." We must show its relationships with .the Church and the world, and with salvation and sanctificati6n of all men. We must have recourse to a "theol6gy" of~ the religious life,2 Advocates of the essentialist approach to formation work concentrate on imparting an understanding of religious life as a living out of the ¯ "essential" Christian ideals. The emphasis placed upon providing a gcriptu-ral and theological rationale for religious life gives an intellectual flavor to formation, and casts the formator in a "lecturer" role as opposed to the perennialist "master-pupil" approach. Because essentialist formators share the belief that religious formation is largely a matter of intellectual training, the interests and needs of those in formation are of limited value for determining the nature and content of the foniiation program. While essentialism gives a needed, firm intellectual underpinning to religious formation, it is largely an adult concept, which in turn requires a certain adult ability to view reality in a holistic fashion. Many in such a formation program, however, fail to see the relevance to their own lives of courses in Scripture, theology, church history and liturgy.' The problem with this approach, as with the perennialist pathway, is that it is character-~ ized by what can be called a "pedagogy of. object" i.e., the models of learning it relies upon are almost exclusively concerned with handing on the.charism of religious life, which itself is taken as an unchanging and universally understood aim. Admittedly, the essentialist approach looks more towards the dynamic nature of the Christian life to provide the context for ~understanding the nature of the religiouS vocation, but it underplays the aspects of the "present" and "future" of society, the Church, religious life, and the persons themselves who are preparing for religious profession. Existential Conception of Religious Formation The keynote of the existential approach is basically its concern with the 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 subject io be formed in his or her actual life situation. The words which characterize this approach are sincerity, dynamic', commitment; relevance, authenticity, choice,freedom, and experience. For those who look at for-mation. in this way, the key to .human and Christian living is the continuing choice of an "authentic" way of life. lnauthenticity means taking shelter behind the routines, the trivialities and the morally undemanding patterns of everyday life. ,To be authentic means to acknowledge basic moral chal-lenges, to be open to the ambiguities and contradictions of life, and to respond to them by committing oneself afresh to the values one perceives to be at the heart of a meaningful existence. Religious life, in the existentialist sense, is viewed and understood asan expression of the life of faith, and so must find its verification in real life. If it is not to be a dead faith, it must be acted out in deeds. For the existential-ist, it is the motivation, not the forms, of religious life that differentiates the religious vocation from that of others. In practice a formator schooled .in existentialist thinking will give prom-inence to discussion methods as the way of learning, and will emphasize the importance of the differences in the life situation of each candidate in his or her personal response to the call of religious life. A greater measure of freedom will be extended in various ways to those being formed, and the view will be encouraged that both formator and those in formation are engaged in a common enterprise of discerning the personal and social significance of the vowed life. Constitutions and histories of the congrega-tion will have only a limited role in an approach such as this. They may serve as reference or guideline, but hardly as a starting point. Emphasis therefore will tend to be much more on a diversity of sources--literature, films, music and newspapers--indeed all the sources of. information encountered in ordinary.living. There will be a fundamental sense in which it is important not to be specific about particular means of being a religious, because what is being described arises from the life-situations of those concerned. Without doubt the existen.tiai approach makes being involved in reli-gious formation a very creative and personally satisfying experience. Con-cern for the giftedness and insights of those entering religious life had rarely been present in the previous history of religious formation. Sadly these insights had been largely subordinated to the immediate needs and interests of the congregation, and formation was more often than not more a training or domesticating than a forming. The existential pathway, on the contrary, asks the formator to believe that he or she is living and praying with people who are alread3; under the influence of the Holy Spirit. The chief problem ~vith this approach to formation arises from the fact Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 805 that the breadth of it provides no clue as to the kinds of experiences that properly should be provided by a formation community. The implication is that., since each candidate's experience of life is unique, each one must have his or her own formation program. Faith and well-meaning, however, are insufficient to fill the vacuum created by the abandonment of a well-de-fined initiation process. It was Dewey who said that when personal fulfill-ment is severed from intellectual activity, "freedom of self-expression turns into something that might better be called 'self-exposure'.''3 Furthermore, when too much emphasis is placed on the "inner search for meaning" of those in formation, the past heritage of a religious congregation can easily be forgotten, and responsibility for 'the future ignored; hence the shared vision that binds a group together can also become lost. ° Socialization Conception of Religious Formation The title of this approach may seem odd, for there has always been a strong community basis to formation in the sense that those being formed have lived, worked and played together in preparation for the time when they would join the wider community of the congregation. Indeed one of the important prerequisites for profession was "suitability for community life." But here the .term "socialization" is being used in a special sense, that of a planned, intensive~group experience involving both professed and nonprofessed members. The rationale behind,this approach is that "what-ever happens to the individual happens to the whole group, and whatever happens to the whole group happens to the individual." Quite simply a novice or one in formation can only say "I am a religious" because we are a :religious family. Ira founding charism is most present in the lived reality of a religious community, then'it is within a community that formation must happen. "Community-centered formation" is not .the same as ''formation within a community." The former consists of a group of professed religious and prospective members open to the challenge of living and growing together; the latter is more often thannot a convenient arrangement for housing those in formation within a regular community, with perhaps one or two helping the formator in'his ministry. The difference between the two con-cepts is that with the first one the formation of new members is a community "event," whereas With the other, formation is a "territory" clearly demar-cated from the ordinary life of the community. The core group of the formative community is made up of religious who are prepared to share their own personal and collective story of faith; to witness in an open way, to the meaning of their congregation's charism; to support those in initial formation in a bro.therly manner and to pray 1106 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 with and for them. The neophytes in turn are invited to "come and see" the charism and mission of the group by sharing in the common life, prayer and work of the community. This "shared praxis" approach supposes less of the presence o1: the person responsible for formation as the sole authority, and more of his presence as guide~in a fraternal network of relations~ This role of the formator means that often the work of formation will remain open-ended, ¯ that is, it is not pushed through to a predetermined conclusion for the sake of a conclusion. Whilst the main emphasis, as with the existential approach, i~ experiential rather than instructional in any formal sense, the open-community situation makes it more likely that the whole aspect .of religious life is approached in a multidimensional way. Close living, with professed religious aff?rds opportunities for the experiencing of the living charism of a congregation that no "single-parent" type. of situation consisting of one formator and the formation group can possibly provide. Conversely, having new members live with professed religious can add life and vitality to the local community, and can challenge the older brethren to look anew at the values that underpin their lives. Such an approach to formation may be successful with mature candi-dates, but it can be a wholly different story with the younger or more immature types. When formation is expected to arise from the dynamic interaction of a community, things can go badly wrong if a good number of the group are incapable, either because of upbringing or inclination, of accepting their responsibility for and accountability to others~ Not to believe that there, will be a need for "tough love" at .times, and a good d~al of personal coachingof members in the art of living together as a religious family, is to assume too romantic a view of human nature. Finally, when everyone is theoretically responsible for the formation of new members, it can quickly become the practice that no one is responsible, and people are left to hope that the newer members "get the hang of religious life" in time--a sort of formation by osmosis! 12on¢lusion Whether religious formators choose to define formation as the handing on of the perennial truths of their congregations" story or.as a radical ,living of the Christian life, as an inner search for ,meaning or as an intensive group experience, they are providing only a partial description of the term "formation.'2 Conversely, if we conceive of formation as all those growth experiences, under the auspices of a religious congregation, that ~contribute to the deepening awareness of what it means to be a religious, the definition is so broad that it fails to indicate how a planned formation program Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis / 1~07 differs from an informal spontaneous arrangement where prospective. members learn directly from living in a religious community. If a definition of initial religious formation is to convey the full meaning of the term, it should be comprehensive while, at the same time, be sufficiently specific so that its key interacting elements are clearly conveyed. Taking these considerations into account, the following tentative defini-tion of religious formation is proposed: The planned and guided learning experience of religious life with intended learning outcomes, formulated through the systematic reconstruction of knowledge and experience, under the auspices of personnel suited to the task of aiding and evaluating a candidate's continuous growth in personal, social and spiritual competence. This definition regards religious life, and the ways of becoming a reli-gious, as dynamic. The formation process must account not only for the known dimensigns of a founding charism, but also for emergent under-standings. Consequently, religious formation is not concerned merely with transmitting the cumulative tradition of a religious congregation but also with the present dimension of a religious charism in relation to the life' experience of those seeking membership. Moreover, this definition recog-nizes that the future possibilities for the development of a charismatic religious community resides with those in formation today. NOTES ~l_zfe in the Oty of God. London: Burng & Oates, 1959, p. xi. 21bid, p. xii. 3John Dewey, How We Think, rev~ ed~, Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath & Company, 1933, 'p, 278. Even Discipline Has Its Season: Thomas Merton and Formation Today Thomas M. King; S.J. Father King has done extensive study and writing on Thomas Merlon. He is an Associate Professor of Theology at Georgetown University where he resides. The mailing address is: Jesuit Community; Georgetown University; Washington. DC 20057. Before he entered the Trappist Monastery of Gethsemani, Thomas Mer-ton wrote part of a novel that concerned a young man considering the priesthood. Like Merton himself, the young man played amateur jazz and had been leading a somewhat dissipated life. He saw his present life as remote "from the kind of discipline and perfection for a priest." As the young man thought about the priesthood, it was the word discipline that occurred again and again. Discipline appealed to him. At the same time as he worked on the novel, Merton wrote an unpublished essay that compared the lay and the priestly life. The priests were considered the lucky ones: "For them, from now on, everything is definite, is settled for them." In writing The Seven Storey Mountain he told of thi.nking about the monastery before he entered it: it was seen as a place of "much discomfort and no pleasures . I used to love books and study, but God will want me to die to all of that." He told of pursuing his novitiate with such enthusiasm that he made a nuisance out of himself by urging his novice director to reduce his portion of butter and cheese to be the same as the other monks', and he wanted permission to attend all the sessions of monastic prayer. By these permissions he wanted to lose himself in common life. He wrote a vivid statement of the Cistercian life that appealed to him: When a man becomes a Cistercian, he is stripped not only of his clothes, or 808 Thomas Merton and Formation Today / 1109 part of his skin, but of his whole body and most of his spirit as well. And it is not finished ~hat first day: far from it! The whole Cistercian life is an evisceration, a gutting and a scouring of the human soul. Merton had felt drawn to the monastery when he had visited there eight months before he had entered. Then he had seen a postulant take his ~place among the novices and he observed: "The waters had closed over his head and he was submer~ged in the community." The postulant was dressed like the other monks and was lost in the "anonymity" of the choir. Merton claimed that those who stayed in the monastery were those who simply followed the Common Rule, a Rule wherein each monk was "absolutely lost, ignored." This was the ideal he was seeking in the monastic life. Merton wanted to live a life of self-sacrifice. For years he had lived according to the urgings of his appetites only to find he was a confused victim of his own "self-contradictory hungers." The nature of these hungers were evident to him in many ways; for example, he was compulsively attending movies. Yet he would no sooner be in the theater than he .would despise the stupidity of the film; but soon he would again be at the movies. In deciding which religious group he would join, he told of wanting "a Rule that was almost entirely aimed at detaching me from the world." He was pleased to describe his entry into Gethsemani as "nothing less than a civil and moral death." He soon esteemed the other monks around him, for they had abandoned "all preoccupation with themselves and their own ideas and judgments and opinions and desires," they .had put their "whole life in the hands of another" through obedience: "The greatest of the vows is obedience." The .monk was said to be significant not because of what he does. but because of what he is: a monk: The religious habit itself was said to have the grace of a sacramental. Merton exalted in his community life and saw most people outside of monasteries as hopelessly confused. When he looked at the luggage he had brought with him, he reflected that he could no longer believe in himself as a layman. These .general themes are familiar to readers of The Seven Storey Mountain, though some of the passages remain unpublished (they can be seen at the Merton Study Center in Bellarmine College, Louisville, Ky.). The picture he gave of monastic life was demanding and severe, yet the surprising thing was the number of people who found what he described had a fascinating appeal. In the ten-year period after the publication of The Seven Storey Mountain, Gethsemani received approximately two thou-sand postulants! The number seems to say something about what people were looking for in joining "religious life." Many, of course, did not stay. With the passage,of time Merton's monastic euphoria underwent 1110 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 considerable change. He came to fight against the anonymity he had desired. He spoke'of monks "left with a husk of outward forms and no inner vocation." Though he had idealized entering the monastery as a form of death, he would come to ask, "Does our monastic life become so artificial and contrived that itis no longer really a life?" He had judged obedience to be the great monastic virtue; but later he would object that "doing what you are told., substitutes for life itself." He was no longer enthralled by the anonymity of the choir: "The choir is the scene of much depersonaliza-tion andanguish." He protested that monastic life should not be a "total abdication .of all human worth and identity." He even claimed that the whole concept of discipline in the life of prayer did not arise until the fifteenth century! He wrote an amusing caricature of monks who believe they are better than those in the world; the world was no longer seen as simply a place of error and sin. In his early writing he had affirmed that a monk's worth was in "being a monk." But he later said that he himself did not "comfortably wear the label of monk?' He wanted to be "a non-monk even, a non-layman, a non-categorized man, a plain simple man." "My hermit life is expressly a lay life." He told of a personal policy of"not appearing as a monk, a priest, a cleric," and said with some satisfaction, "I am a tramp." His biographer, Monica Furlong, explains, "It was as if he had abandoned all interest in the persona of the monk." The change in Merton reflected a change that was general in religious life. Religious discipline generally became less evident and many religious tried to.avoid a special identity in either manners or dress. Novices were often integrated directly into communities of formed religious, and obe-dience was no longer seen as a way of inner liberation--it was just a matter of convenience or greater efficiency of organization. Most religious would say the changes had been for the better. But recently while writing several articles on Merton, I came to believe that the more relaxed monastic life that is generally found today would in no way satisfy the Merton who entered "the monastery in 1941. At the time he entered he had different needs, needs which did not last indefinitely. Yet the general relaxation was a change that he had helped bring about. Like many others who entered the religious life in the fifties, I had been inspired by Merton's enthusiastic account of religious life. I had. been less dissipated, but I felt a similar need "to get hold of myself" and work through my "self-contradictory hungers." I entered a Jesuit novitiate where discipline was strict. Devotions, times~ to sleep, to eat and to recreate were regulated by a bell with little room for individual inclinations. Clothing, haircuts, readings and friendships were allowed little opportunity to develop accord- Thomas Merton and Formation Today ing to one's own taste~ Religious life was a way of freeing one from one's own tastes. One could wonder if that is still seen as a value--yet that was a major" reason that the noviceship took so long. In those days other Jesuits were not even to visit the novitiate "lest they disedify the novices." We believed that we were following "the more perfect way." 1 think that way of living would be frustrating for me now--but that does not mean it was not what I needed then. It was. There are seasons in one's life. Recently I was assigned to spend two years working with Jesuit novices. Meals remain scheduled, but the daily order was mostly gone. Dress is casual, betamax movies are regularly shown, beer is generally available and groups go out for:pizza. It is a more ordinary kind of life than I had known as a novice--and appears much like the life of those "in the world" or the life of longtime Jesuits. But should it be so? In working with the novices I decided much of the happiness of my own novitiate was not. present, My happiness .was perhaps naive--not unlike the happiness Merton had found among the Trappists.Like Merton I, too, had to resolve some contradictory hungers and deal with a confu-sion of undigested ideas. The exterior discipline provided support for my own efforts io control immediate appetites. I would not agree today with ma.ny of the ideals that made up the "more perfect way," but it gave me a clear look at myself and something to strive for. And in striving for a difficult goal I knew satisfaction--by being unconcerned with satisfaction. I knew better my appetite for God byignoring my other appetites. .I have visited other novitiates and talked with others in formation and I do not know if what had been valuable for me is still available. In recently doing some serious study with the texts of Merton, I came to understand something about, myself. Merton had become severe in judging the struc-tures of religious life that once he had found necessary and supportive. In the 60s I and other religious went through the samechange. But now I have come to argue there are seasons in one's life. There is a time when discipline is needed and a time when it should be relaxed. And this difference gives rise to a significant difficulty when novices early in formation are integrated into communities of formed religious. Perhaps the difference of seasons can be seen in the two sets of Rules for Discernment of Spirits offered by St. Ignatius. One set is for the First Week and the other is for the Second Week. Thus, they are put in terms of a temporal sequence, in terms of seasons. In the Rules for the First Week-- and Ignatius seems to believe that many people do not pass beyond this week--one judges one's interior movements (spirits) by a somewhat demanding objective standard. One is to shape one's life according to the commandments and the Gospel ideal and, therefore, it is according to these I~1~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 Rules that one accepts the interior movements that ~support the defined ideal and.rejects the movements that do not. At the .end of the First Week (inthe kingdom meditation) one makes a radical dedication of oneself to God. In this meditation one is expected to make a deliberate choice to willingly bear all poverty~ trials and humiliations for the Lord's sake. It is a frightening expectation; but it is only after one has made such a prayer, that one is to use the Rules for the Second Week. To contrast the difference between the two sets of Rules:~ in the first set one conforms oneself to an objective standard; one tries to overcome one's feelings (movements) by judging objectiVely which feelings are appropriate. Then, in the Rules for the Second Week, one listens to one's feelings (one's consolations and desolations) in 6rder to learn from them what one is to do. One learns from the feelings only after distancing oneselffrom them and only after instructing them. Thus, at different times during the Exercises, very different norms are appropriate for dealing with "feelings." Having given hundreds of directed retreats, I have sensed that Rules for the First Week are often given only brief consideration or ignored. Much of the reason is that there is considerable ambiguity about the ethical questions that once had been so clear. Yet if one has not been through a considerable discipline of moods and appetites and begins using the Rules of the Second Week, one begins taking disordered moods and trivial appetites as messages from heaven. Thereby one becomes hopelessly confused--most people "in the world" know better than to do this. Ignatius took his own moods seriously and proposed a method of listening to consolations and desola-tions- but he would use this method only after he had disciplined them. 1 have done a fair amount of spiritual direction, and with it 1 have come to believe that many directees--by no means all--need less "spiritual life" and more objective conformity to demands of the Gospel. Any professional identity (doctor, athlete, musician, and so forth) requires an extended season wherein one conforms to an objective discipline. Senior doctors can follow their "hunches," while young interns generally should not. Mozart has recently become known as a highly spontaneous composer. There is some truth in this understanding, but Mozart became that way only after following a disciplined training that was brutal in its drmands.,l do not recommend brutal training for either musicians or religious. (Though from Mozart to Merton it has .produced some good results.) But, on the other hand, it does not make sense to believe one can be agood religious simply by being one's spontaneous self from the novitiate onwards. If that were the case there would be no need for a novitiate, other than a brief period in which to school the novices in the constitutions, charism, history, and so forth. When religious are simply integrated into Thomas Merton and Formation Today / 813 regular community life, they would seem to "have it made" more readily than is possible in any other profession. And this should lead one to suspect that something is missing in whathad been known as a demanding profes-sion- one that had appealed to the desire of the young, not to have it made, but to sacrifice one's self for a cause. Because of a current and much needed emphasis on personalism and because of smaller numbers entering religious life, many religious groups now "tailor the program for individual needs." But the present article would claim that such tailoring is not simply the better thing. There is also an advantage in. having a more or less uniform program according to which the novice should be tailored to fit a new way of life. Merton felt he needed considerable tailoring. If his novice director had tailored the life according to Merton's unique personality, would his director have left him in the chaos of his hungers and even more ill-adjusted~than he was to Trappist life? I suspect Merton would have been a better monk if he had not received a special assignment to "literary" work shortly after he had entered the community. Merton wanted to be lost in anonymity, the.ano-nymity of common life. In this age of personalism is there still something that can be said .for anonymity? There are advantages in losing oneself in "common life," especially ~when it is part of formation. One identifies with a group only if one has actively striven to become part of it. Such is the only way that a sports team can develop an esprit de corps.The members do not develop a common spirit unless they have been together in a common and demanding training. Members of such a team have tailored themselves to fit together in spite of their differences--and that is the power in their bond. It is only by striving to live by something more important than personal preferences, that one can discover the power of a community bond, a bond that is not at all the same as the friendship bond. The latter is based on personal choice--it is a matter of taste; while the community bond develops when different types of people (who otherwise iriight not be drawn to one another) submit themselves to a common discipline and thereby realize they are together in something more important than their personal tastes and bigger than any of them. When Jesus was told that his family was seeking him, he respgnded that his family was composed of those who "heard the Word of God and did it." (They could be said to be following the Rules of the First Week by conforming themselves to the gi{,en Word, to an objective discipline.) They were not together simply as'a m~itter of preference or as a group of congenial people with a common interest. Can we even imagine--a tax collector and a zealot in one group! The disciples were bonded by a common discipline 1114/ Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 that united them in spite of their differences. One might also allow that within this group some friendship bonds were allowed to develop. In this age of personalism I confess that I still understand what Thomas Merton was seeking as a young monk, and I believe I was seeking some-thing similar. In short, I did not want to dedicate myself to the triviality of my own'preferences, l still know the advantage of losing oneself in an impersonal discipline and losing oneself in the anonymity of a group.And in arguing for tl~is anonymity I find support in the words of Jesus to the effect that we must first lose our self in order to find our self. This command would suggest that first there must be a season of losing, and only after that a season of finding. And the season that comes first should say something about religious formation. Sometimes conservative religious communities tell only o.f the importance of losing oneself--while liberal religious com-munities tell only of the importance of finding oneself. But the present article would argue that each has its season. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three article's on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Expectations of Community Along Life's Journey Kristen Wenzel, O.S.U: Sister Kristen teaches Sociology and Women's Studies at the College of New Rochelle. She als9 does work for religious congregations as a research consultant. Her previous article in our pages was "Toward a So~iology'of Ministry in the United States~ (July/August, 1982). She resides in the Ursuline Community at 596 Minneford Avenue; City Island; New York 10464. here is no question but that our experience of community is a very important aspect of our lives. God has so,made us that we all need to feel we belong. This is also true sociologically speaking. It is true regardless of age, family upbringing, ethnic heritage, ministry or the group with whom we live. Looking back over our experiences of community is like going on a journey. When we go on a journey, what accompanies us--things or people? When we venture out, do we pref~er to go alone or with others? When we want to rest along the way, do we seek. out friends or a quiet grove alone? When we are unsure of our direction do we follow our hunches or do we ask for help? Let me ask you, where .have you experienced community along the myriad pathways of your life--at the fork in the road, at the intersection or along "the road less traveled'~ Let me explain. When I think of "the fork in the road," I think of the times when community forces me to choose between it and my ministry or between it and my preferred friendships or family. When I picture an intersection, 1 am thinking of all these important groups in my life converging and merg-ing in one place. Sometimes experiences of community seem to be taking me, a pilgrim, on a road less traveled, a road littered with obstacles. The 1t16 / Review for Religious,. November-December, 1985 road is uneven and progress is slow. Along the pathways we have walked, what have been our experiences of community? More directly, what person(s), group, or, perhaps, minis-try or activity is carrying me through life? What is community for me? Now, let us take a more analytical look at the word "community." Understanding the Word "Community" There are a variety of understandings of the term community. If you were to ask those with whom you live how they define community, one person might share with you an experience she has had of community, for example, a special liturgy with everyone in the house present; a jubilee celebration; extended time spent together over a meal; coming together with others from several configurations in similar work where talking and sharing are done in a concerned way and meaningful context. Another person might speak of the feelings that the word community evokes: for her, community is affi.rming, challenging, frustrat!ng, supportive, alienating, gratifying. Others might tell you what they wish community would be and what it has not been for them. Yet another might come back to you with the question, "What do you mean by the community? Everyone living under the same roof?. Our cluster community? The people with whom I do ministry? The diocese or province? My friends? My family? My parish?"~ This variety of responses indicates the many different ways we define community, describe our community experiences and/or set our goals regarding community life. How we define, describe or prescribe directions for community living is the foundation for building models of community. Generally, sociologists agree on three characteristics as essential to community. They are: locale, common ties and social interaction. When we speak of "the community" this concept encompasses locale or place as the basic component. Whereas, "community," as distinguished from "the community," emphasizes the common ties and social-interaction compo-nents of the definition? In this sense community is viewed ;not so much in terms'of locale or where we live, but in terms of there being "a high degree of personal intimacy, emotional depth, moral commitment, social cohesion, and continuity in time.''3 When we religious are asked about our experience of community, what most frequently comes to mind--the geographical locale, the level of social interaction present,~ or the common bond of a shared ministry, vision, commitment? The common bond or common ties component of community refers to an organizing factor which is neither a locale.nor an emotional tie but a common intellectual or professional bond4 or, in terms of our status as Expectations of Community / 1117 religious, a common religious understanding or spiritual bond. It is this common-bond element that is referred to in the "Community Life" section of the constitutions of many religious congregations, for example: -The love that unites us finds its source in the intimate union of Father,' Son and Spirit who dwell within us. -Christ calls us to form, as did the first Christians, a community having "one mind and one heart" (Ac 4:32) and experiencing the joy of his presence. -In Christ we are one body nourished by the Eucharist and strengthened by the Word of God. What about the social inter'action component of community? Here sociologists distinguish between the rural village and urban industrial society to present the dramatic changes that have occurred in the level of social interaction between people. What the sociologists have to say, I believe, gives us insight into how community life has evolved here in the United States. In a village society most people held common values, norms and traditions. The survival and welfare of the whole village was a concern shared by all. Social bonds developed among.people from the many activi-ties and functions. Geographic mobility was limited and personal contacts were long-term. A distinctive characteristic of the village community was that each .member had a position in the social order, a position usual)y assigned at birth. Expressions of individuality such as distinctive clothing, work aspira-tions, leisure activities and friendship circles were strongly circumscri.bed by the rights and obligations of other village members. Consrquently, the self-identity of the individual often fused with the individual's identification with the village. . On the other hand, in urban industrial society life is much more diverse and fragmented. We do not have regular, continuous face-tr-face interaction with just 'any one group over a number of years. Many of the people with whom wedo come in contact we deal with in impeCsonal, functional ways. Those we live with may come from social classes and ethnic backgrounds very different 'from ours. Personal histories are heterogeneous. Conse-quently, we don't necessarily share with our companions common tradi-tions,' values, aspirations or ,goals. Unlike people in rural villages who~ spend their entire lives in the same community, we are highly mobile, not only gebgraphically but socially as well. More often than not, we enjoy a 10osely-linked network of friends across several groups rather than a close-knit network within one community. In religious life increasingly, specialized ministries also are a product of this urban industrial and technological society. I~111 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 Locale--common bond--social interaction. How important is locale in my experience'of community? Am I living in the particular community where I am because it is convenient for my work . . . because of my background experience or trifining for a particular ministry., because I can be close to aging parents or a sick relative., or because for me it is a real faith community to which I choose to belong?. Is a common bond, such as staffing a hospital, a love of one's foundress, serving the poor, or simplicity of life, with relatively little emphasis on locale and social interac-tion sufficient for community to exist in my estimation? Or is social interac-tion the essential element and, if so, what level of such interaction must be operative to make community for me? The relative importance we give to locale, common bond and/or social interaction indicates the model of community with which we most closely identify. Moreover, these are some of the basic elements that today's candidate for religious life will be looking at before choosingtomorrow's community. How each of us experiences community today ~s good and growth-produc-ing also influences the criteria we use in choosing the type of religious with whom we wo~ld like to live. This choice may only be able to exist in our mind. Nevertheless, the choice is real and affects the reality of community living. There is current tangible evidence that among us religious we differ in the sociological factors we emphasize in measuring the quality of commu-nity life. There is current tangible evidence that among us religious we differ in the sociological factors we emphasize in measuring the quality of commu-nity life. Current Trends Shaping Our Expectations of Community To define ~ommunity is one of the tasks to be done in developing models of community. Another very important task is to become aware of and sensitive to the current trends shaping expectations of community. Recent trends in theology and ecclesiology have had a significant impact on the spirituhlity as well as the experience of community life for apostolic religious in the United States. Among all the developments that have occurred in. the understanding of spirituality over the past twenty years, there are two that are fundamental. The first .concerns the way we view the world. Here we have moved from an assumption that reality is essentially static and unchanging to an awareness of a world that is dynamic and changing. As human persons within this world, not only are we subject to the process of continual change but'we are ourselves the very agents of that ~hange.5 It is in the acknowledgment, of being such agents that we are Expectations of Community / a19 evolving a new style of religious life. A second development, equally influential, focuses on how we view God. We have moved from an understanding of God as trangcendent and historical to the discovery of God as immanent in-our experience. We believe that human existence in its natural condition is radically oriented towards God.6 In the context of this understanding we have come to trust our experience of existence in the here-and-nowas the locus of the revela-tion of God. Consequently, e~eryday historical life and religious life are not separated. Experience takes on new meaning and becomes an integral part of our spirituality. These two broad developments in our worm view and God view make up the integrated secular and sacred climate in which community is being experienced, lived, and named among us today. The view of religious life as a mystery and a gift given to the Church in a particular moment of history has led to a search for new forms of com-munity; which will support the challenge of ministry in a new age and in a specific culture. An evolutionary perspective, which sees the life of faith as a journey and conversion as an ongoing process, has encouraged a more open and fluid approach to community.7 According to this trend community life is viewed primarily as a basic support for the mission of the religious congregation and for the ministry of the individual religious: Apostolic community life is a living out of the baptismal call to witness to the message of Jesus through ministry and service to the world. Consequently, community life is not lived apart from the world but rather within and for the world to which we belong, Our decision to live together out of shared Gospel values, and to give witness to these in society, is the foundation of community. It is such values underly-ing this decision which influence prayer, mutual support, presence, rela-tionships, lifestyle, finances, and all other aspects of community living. While community life is a living critique of the prevailing values of society,s it is also somewhat influenced and shaped.by societal trends. What are some of these secular trends challenging and giving rise to various models of community life?. John Naisbitt, in his popular book, Megatrends, deals with ten specific trends. I would like to single out three of these trends as those which I think we need to study and reflect upon in our .analysis of models of community life. Trend I. There is a persistent mbvement in society toward participatory democracy because there is a deepening conviction that people whose lives are affected by a decision must be part of the process of arriving at that decision. There is pressure On the Church, corporations, universities, local 1~20 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 parishes, agencies and hospitals to become more open and accountable. There is the new shareholder activism, worker participation, demand for greater employee rights and the consumer movement.9 There is no question that this trend toward participatory democracy is affecting religious and their current expectations of community. It is. an important element to be considered in building a model of community life. This growing movement toward participatory democracy is viewed by a significant number of reli- ¯ gious as an essential element if commumty for them is to be a credible and viable way of life. Trend 2. This decade is a decade of diversity, with multiple options in lifestyle, education, religion, housing, transportation, leisure activities, music and the ~.rts. The term "family".is being expanded to include a number of important relationships between people not related by blood or marriage. The country no longer holds on to the myth of the melting pot as ethnic and racial groups in growing numbers celebrate their diversity. Mul-tiple options have en';erged for women in the workplace, in personal life-styles, in choice of education, in elective sur~gery. Likewise, ~options for church membership are multiplying.~0 These trends are shaping current expectations for tomorrow's community. "Multiple Options" is becoming an evermore critical element to be considered in developing a model of community life. Cor~sider, for example~ multiple options for belonging to groups. This reality can enhance the quality of community life for contem-porary religious if we are willing not only to acknowledge this trend but to have leadership acknowledge it. Trend3. A world of interdependent communities.is being forced upon us by circumstances. Unless we recognize this we will not survive~ To achieve needed technologies we as a nation will have to work cooperatively with other nations. We will need to forge a 0ew relationship with the Third World as equal partners in an interdependent world.~ Perhaps the most significant areas of interdependence are those relating to the nuclear power issues and the growing global economy. Interdependence as expre,ssed in intercongregational-supported minis-tries, formation programs, and intercommunity living is a growing reality for contemporary religious. Interdependence for tomorrow's community means these developments will be more the reality than the exception. They will not only be accepted but embraced as integral to building a model of community life. These ~current trends do not comprise an exhaustive list. However, they are trends--religious as well as secular--that are having an impact on what we expect of community life. For example, if we bblieve that human experience is a locus for the revelation of God then, for us, God is expe- Expectations of Community rienced in interpersonal relationships, in ministry to and with others, in struggles for justice, in communal and liturgical prayer as well as in the give~and-take of daily community life. It is important that we get in touch with those patterns and trends in the Church as well as in society that are influencing our preferences for holding on to or restructuring our experi-ences of community. What are the trends you believe shape your own expectations of com-munity? It is here, I believe, that we find a clue to the reason why we may identify with one particular model of community' rather than another. Also, it is h~ere we gain insight into why, when we speak of tomorrow's community, we are speaking of multiple models that will grow in credibility and acceptancewithin a single congregation. Expectations as Expressions of Models of Community What do we mean by model? Our own experiences attest to the fact that community is a complex reality. We cannot take all dimensions of community and integrate them into a single vision of community. That would not be doing justice to its various elements. Rather, we keep them separate, highlighting different dimensions at different times. The use of models exemplifies a typological approach tothe study of community. The number of types or models is unlimited. However, I have chosen to limit the number of models lowill present to four. Each of theseomodels could .be broken down into several subtypes, but 1 will not attempt to do that. By approaching the study of community from the perspective of model, ultimately, I. am suggesting that this method offers us a multidimensional and not an uriidimensional understanding. The method of models or types can be invaluable in helping us to get begond the parochialism of our own outlook and t6 enter into fruitful dialogue with other members having a fundamentally different perspective. This particular approach should en-able us to encourage the kind of pluralism that heals and unifies ~ather than that which frustrates and divides. The use Of different models in our discussions of community evokes different viewpoints on issues and differ-ent suggestions for living out community. Sociologically, the. presentation of types or models: suggests what already is, not necessarily what Should be. Where'we live community life is determined more by circumstances, preferences and opportunities than by our trying to conform to some idealized concept in an idealized reality. Sociologically, idealized conditions do not exist--for better or for worse. The Institutional Model Here the concept of "locale" is impo~ant. The place one is assigned or II~fft / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 sent to, the geographical locale, is believed to constitute community. It is the community for the individual in the sense that this is where one's attentiveness and availability are directed. The principal needs of the indi-viduals are satisfied by their participation in communal prayer, shared meals and recreation together. Informal contacts outside the community are infrequent and do not contribute in a major way to the individual's life. Here, to live the common life is to live community. This is the goal, the basic conviction, shared by members who live this model of, community. The structured life is formally organized with a horarium and recognized levels of authority.Ordinarily, there is a single apostolate raiher than a diversity of ministries. Decisions are made based on the common good which, with stability, is highly valued. The members' needs and expecta-tions are met, for the most part, by the community. In the context of this model, individuals experience a strong sense of belonging to the gro~ with whom they have invested so much of their energies. To a large extent they are known .by the group and usually feel comfortable in group activities. They experience support from their communal living. This sense of pur-pose and direction is strengthened because it is shared by the group. Because so much time is given to the group, less time is available to follow personal interests or become involved in Outside activities. Exposure to lifestyles markedly different from the members' own is limited: Understand-ably, these types of boundaries as well as the relative homogeneity of the community tend to reduce overt conflictual situations. Preference for this model, would be shown by such felt needs as: -Praying together: office, Eucharist, shared prayer, retreat, communal prayer service; -Arranging gatherings on provincial and local levels: summer renewal, conferenc~es, chapters, workshops, jubilees, professions, funerals, big feast days; -Sacrificing personal interests for the common goo.d;, -Playing together: shared hours of relaxation, recreation, fun times, togetherness in enjoyment of TV programs of special interest, vaca-tion, cultural outings; -Feeling a sense of belonging and ~of being "at home" with one another; -Holding community meetings frequently, where members arrange schedules in order to be there. The Individual Identity Model In this model the emphasis in community is on social interaction rather than locale. An emphasis on the community member as person replaces Expectations of Community emphasis on community as place. Value for the human in self and others, respect for the dignity of the human person and the responsible freedom of every member are the basic convictions in this model. Consequently, it is the nurturing and growth of the individual that is of primary concern. Prayer in common is seen as a support and as a challenge, helping the individual to grow by helping to develop her or his insights and gifts. Diversity in rriinistry becomes inevitable with the emphasis placed on the d~velopment of each individual's talents. Community members are learning to recognize the dignity of the human person who has both rights and responsibilities in relationship to self, to others and to the world. The value of community flows from who we are rather th~n from what we do. There is a struggle with how to blend individual rights and responsibilities with those of .the group and how to hold both in healthy creative tension. There is a deep concernwith how to empower one another to be active participants in the creation of a Church, a nation and a world that reverence'the human~dignity of all. In a special way members of this~ type of community, if it is a commu-nity of women religious, recognize that the Women's Movement in the United States has deeply influenced many who share the determination to "use our power collaboratively and collegially in non-violent ways" to bring about the creation of a world that'respects all that is human. These members are coming tb a new understandifig of what it means to be woman: "The glory of God is woman fully alive," They are experiencing a new sense of solidarity with other women. They wish to bring about an awareness of women's unique gifts to be used in the creation of a more human, loving and just world.~2 This movement has heightened among religious the need for personal and communal discernment as 'they come to (erms with change as a continuous reality in their lives. It has also led them to create participative and collegial structures within community. There is dialogue and interaction on the journey so that they might discern and respond to the Spirit leading .them into the future. Prefereiace for this model Would be exemplifieod by such statements and elements as: -Challenged and called to grow beyond myself; giving most generously of myself; -Accepting responsibility for community; owhing community decisions; having a sense of building together; enabling the community to articu-late expectations of the group and individuals; -'Desiring growth in ideniity and cha'racter as individuals and as community;, -Appreciating each member for her or his contribution; considering ~124 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 members as individual persons not to be overloaded with work; -Recognizing the talents and gifts unique to each person and -Affirming ministry. The Ministry Model Here community life is viewed primarily as a-basic support for the mission of the religious congregation and the ministry of the individual religious. Community exists to facilitate the individual member's availability to minister to the needs of society-at-large. The active apostolate is of primary importance in this model. This is the common bond for living together in community. Locale and social interaction are of secondary importance. It is ministering to the needs of the People of God rather than to the members of one's own congregation that is the major expectation. Religious vows in response to vocation are a consecration for mission and are viewed not as ends in themselves but rather as supports for minis-try. Personal prayer demands a contemplative stance toward all of life and leads to contemplation in the midst of action. God is experienced in minis-try to and with others.13 Consequently, prayer in common is scheduled around the demands of the apostolate. It will occur less frequently, and at times without all members present. Times for private prayer would be more common. The major consideration in decision-making would be, "How will this decision provide greater availability and effectiveness in the apostolate"?. There may or may not be a diversity of apostolate works represented among the community members. Within the context of this model, for .example, new ministries are emerging for the, semi-retired that take them outside of the community: to share at centers for senior citizens, to tutor adults or chil-dren, to do parish.visiting or home nursing. Changes occurring in the society-at-large are affecting many of the types of changes experienced in the local community. In addition, membership in other groups and com-munities is acceptable as a means to apostolic service. It is quite common for some members to find these outside groups to be their primary com-munity. All-in-all the dimensions of community life are shaped by the values, goals and expectations of those whose primary focus is the apostolate. For some religious, the value of witnessing to community in the larger society becomes the apostolate. The community exists for the sake of its witness value. The expectation here is that the group will. live community in such a way that those outside community will see among them God's action in the world. Inviting butsiders to join the community for commu-nal prayer is an important dimension. In fact, hospitality in general would be considered essential to this type of apostolic community life. ¯ Expectations of Community as~ Preference for this model would be exemplified by such manifestations -There is interest in and suppori of one's ministry; united in service of others; involved in a common apostolate, being on an Ursuline faculty, giving help to the needy and the poor; -Small group living offers unique ways to use personal gifts, in the service of, others; -Hospitality is shown to guests, whether members of one's congrega-tion, one's family or friends and -Sharing work. The Communion Model~4 In the context of this model, the members of the community share the conviction that the concept of communion unveils an ever-deeper under-standing of community. Because we are all united in Jesus Christ and form one'Body of which he is the head, we are united to each other as members of one body. The diversity of gifts, talents, personalities serves the richness and well-being of the Body of Christ which is the Church. This is the common bond that unites members in community. They share the expecta-tion, the conviction, that religious life is a microcosm of the Church, a witness to the kingdom of Jesus Christ, and therefore, it must be a com-munion. Our life together must reflect the kind of fellowship with Christ and his members that is described in the New Testament. The source of our sisterhood or brotherhood is not human compatibility but rather a com-munion rooted in faith, in baptism and in life in Jesos Christ. Communal prayer, faith sharing and Eucharist would be the essence of community in uniting each religious to Jesus Christ, Likewise, there is a strong emphasis on attentiveness to the Spirit as a source of unity. Our oneness in Christ and his Spirit becomes the underlying rationale for the types' of decisions made regarding authority, leadership, provincial gatherings, living the vows, apostolates, and efforts to continue the updating and renewal of religious life. Likewisr, this communion directs us to attend to the needs of society and to issues of social justice. Communion is unity amidst diversity and is the essence of community life. Preference for this model would be exemplified by such evidences as: -Experiencing joy in living with people dedicated to the Lord; inspired by the fidelity and prayerfulness of one's sisters; -Sharing at depth level; articulating shared values; faith, vision; -Sharing times of crisis and -Assembling for the' good of the Church. To summarize--in these four models which I have just presented, we 1196 / Review for Religious, Nove.mber-December, 1985 do not find an exhaustive study but rather a continuing exploration of various, possibilities. From a sociological perspective, we see that different models place different emphases on Iocale,~ social interaction or common bond as the foundation for developing the model. These three elements are present in varying degrees whenever we describe community or living group. No actual community identifies totally with any single model. However, every community will probably find that it has an affinity with one model more than with another. Furthermore, it is important to acknowledge that each model raises a number of issues regarding commu-nity life that need to be addressed by members. Sociological Factors Influencing Our Expectations of Community What shapes .our expectations of community? Why do we find our-selves more attracted to one model rather than to another? Why do we recognize the description of one type better than another? Why do we haxie the preferences that we do for a particular model rather than for another? Or, on the other hand, are our expectations unclear or conflictual? Do we find more than one model appealing or, simply, none at all? Will tomorrow's communities really be that much more .different from today's? The variations that exist among us regarding expectations of commu-nity can be explained, in large part, by our respective personal ~ back-grounds such as the size of the family we grew up in; whether our ethnic heritage is Latin, Irish, Germanic or whatever; the type and number of years of education we had and whether we spent our childhood and early adult years in a rural or urban environment. Our age also affects our needs regarding community, and those needs change as we move from our 20s into our 30s, our 50s, our 70s. Likewise, our social-class background will have some bearing on how we view community. And there are other sociological factors which are influential. The task before us is for each of us to identify and name those that we believe have the strongest impact on our own respective expe.ctations and preferences. At times there is a tendency to call for unity in community while downplaying diversity of sociological background; for example, to challenge one another to a simplicity of life that will unite us, regardless of back-ground, social levels, experience or education. We are not united regardless of these factors. We can only be united in a real way when we have regard for them. This does not mean.we are defined in a static way by our personal history. But, we do need to remember that personal history is God-given, and the starting point for any of our journeys. Appreciating differences and allowing ourselves to be influenced by them can add a great deal of enrichment to community life. At the least, an awareness and Expectations of Community sensitivity to one another's background can explain why there exist among us so many and varied experiences and approaches to community. Briefly, I would like to mention another set of factors affecting prefer- 6nces. I will not ela ~borate on them but I would like t6 refer to them because they are critical elements to be dealt with in working out the practical details of community models. They are what we call structural elements; for example~ (1)the building lived in, (2) size of group, (3) geographical location, (4) age distribution, (5) daily schedule, (6) length of time of stable group membership, (7) procedure for incorporating new members, (8) mix of personality types and (9) number of ministries represented. There is a great deal more I could say about sociological factors and how they influence our expectations with regard to communal living. However, I believe I have given at least an indication of how to explore and apply them in gaining insight into how our preferences shape our attraction to one model over another. Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to say that the journey mentality embodied in this paper is different from the "trip mentality" so often present in our society today. When we go on a trip our focus is on arriving. Our attention is toward the future with relatively little preoccupation on the present. We are driving sixty'five miles-an-hour to get there and what we are passing on the road is unnoticed. On the other hand, the journey, mentality is attentive and respectful of the process. It is attentive to the here and now. It is a creating.and c~reative e~xperience~ It is the p!ace to be because this is the place God is. The fact that we do not have it all together, the fact that we are searching, the fact that we are moving slowly, sometimes reluctantly, sometimes with conviction, are all positive signs and reflective of the way God's people have acted throUghout history. This is reflective of every social movement whether religious, political, economic or communal. This is reflective of what we are about in all of our deliberations about commu-nity- along our life's journey. NOTES ~Similar questions are addressed by Barbara Glendon, O.S.U., in her article, "Models of Community," REVIEW FOR RELI~,IOtJS, Vol. 38, No. 2 (January/February, 1979), 206-216. 2Jessie Bernard, The Sociology ofCommuhity (Glenview, Illinois: Scott Foresman and Company, 1973), pp. I-2. 828/ Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 3Robert A. Nisbet, The Sociological Tradition (New York: Basic Books, Inc., Publish-ers, 1967), p. 47. aBernard, pp. 4-5. SMaureen O'Keefe, L.S.A.', "Reflections on Spirituality and Religious Life," unpub-lished paper written for an all-day program on "Reflection on Apostolic Religious Life in the Archdiocese of New York" held on April 29, 1984 at Mount St. Vincent, Bronx, N.Y. ~Ibid. 7Corita Clark, R.D.C., "Communal Dimensions," unpublished paper on the interpretations of data gathered from women religious of the Archdiocese of New York who attended a program entitled, "The Experience of Religious Life in the United States" on February 4; 1984, p. 8. 81bid. 9John Naisbitt, Megatrends (New York: Warner Books, Inc. 1982), pp. 159-188. ~°Ibid, pp. 231-247. ~qbid, pp. 55-77. ~2Here 1 would recommend Carol Gilligan's book, In a Different Voice (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, .1982) where she presents the thesis that women's experience of relationship and care must be included in theories of human development which traditionally have stressed men's experience of individuation and autonomy. ~3Clark, p. 8. ~4Ernest R. Folardeau, S.S.S., "Religious Life is a Communion," REVIEW FOR REI,I-G~ OtJS (January-February, 1984), pp. 65-68. The basic ideas for this section are taken from this article. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Llndell Blvd. St. Louis, Mlssoud 63108 Eucharistic Community of Disciples William E Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan's last article, "A Sense of Consecration," appeared in the issue of November/December, 1983. He continues to reside at the generalate of the Christian Brothers: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della M~glianella, 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. Since Vatican II it has beeri commonplace to say that the Eucharist is the highpoint of the day, the summit, the center. This is the manner of expres-sion one encounters in constitutions, conferences, formation instructions, and so forth. Yet many of us on the individual and community level could very well ask ourselves if in fact the Eucharist is the central point of our-day, if we do approach it. with the spirit and outlook that enables it to be our real focal point. In actuality we may well,discover that our vision of Eucharist is narrow, and that we "do"~Eucharist because it is expected of us. It is not too distant in the past that big gatherings were marked with Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament, for that was an accustomed way of noting special occasions. Now whena group of religious come 'together for a meeting or solemnity, the expectation is that the occasion will call for a community Mass. This is all well and good, but we may be missing its impact on the community and our individual persons unless our eucharistic horizons are broad; for it should not simply be an occasion for celebrating with song and ceremony. Indeed, it is also a moment for healing, for proclamation, and for recommissioning in service. Our times have seen a wonderful explosion of renewed insights into Eucharist as a result of theological and scriptural reflectionJ There has been a return to many of the aspects of eucharistic awareness prevalent in the early Christian community, but progressively neglected with the.pas-sage of time, especially when the vision of so many was primarily restricted 829 I1~1~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 to Eucharistic Adoration. These insights should not be left in the intellectual domain; if carried over .and integrate.d into our daily vision, they can greatly enrich one's appreciation of Eucharist and help toward a realization of the Eucharist as the center of the day and of the community. As a means of helping people to make the Eucharist central, spiritual writers often enough used to speak of spending half of the day in thanksgiving for the Eucharist that had been celebrated and the other half in preparation for the next Eucharist. Surely many individuals found this approach helpful, but even more could be gained from incorporating into our lives the fruit of the present eucharistic renewal. At the outset, though, let us not be tempted to reject the wealth of spirituality that has come to us over the centuries from this emphasis on Eucharistic Adoration. For time spent in the Eucharistic Presence can serve as a powerful source of growth and strength in one's relationship to the Lord and to others, especially in terms of fostering an awareness of the many other presences of God 'in one's daily living. Through a lived awareness of the community, service and prophetic dimensions of Eucharist, individuals and communities may discover that Eucharist can be an integrating factor of daily life, and lead them to become a "eucharistic community of disciples,;' as the Lord Jesus intended. When we gather as a community to hear God's word and offer ourselves in union with Christ to .the Father, we assemble as a people of brokenness in need of healing and forgiveness for .our failures to carry out the Lord's command of love for, and service to, our sisters and brothers.° We bear all the weaknesses with which our personal and community qives~are laden~ and ~with the multiple failures ofour unfulfilled resolves to be more open to the Lord individually and together. We come in need of individual and community healing. The initial rite of the Eucharist introduces us to its forgiving and healing aspect as we sincere.ly acknowledge our need. It opens us up to rediscover the presence of Christ in our midst--not just the presence of Christ in his word, in the consecrated bread and wine, in the minister, ~,but in~ the very group of people with whom we have come together to worship. Jesus is there in the midst of the human weakness, the~ tensions, the variety of personality types, the physical sizes and shapes. He is there because we are gathered in his name. And he calls us forth from ourselves to discern his presence at the time in the community of worship. ,~ It is not enough that we discern his other presence~ in the eucharistic celebration. Our eucharist does not deserve the name in the full sense if we are unaware of his presence in the assembly, since Eucharist involves the interrelationship of a series or network of modes of Christ's presences. It is, as it were, a way in which Christ concretizes the connection between love Eucharistic Community of Disciples for God and love for people. It is an extension of the Emmaus incident in which the two travelers could recbgnize Christ in the breaking of the bread because they had shown hospitality toa fellow journeyman, inviting him to stay with them. Thecommunity aspect of Eucharist is not just a matter o.f song, gestures and prayer together, important as these ~re; for they can fast descend to the level of the empty ritual against which Jesus spoke. Rather this facet of Eucharist centers on a faith conviction that Jesus is in ~the midst of his people, a Risen Brother among sisters and brothers, leading them in wor-ship of the Father by the power of the. Spirit. And the perception of this manner of Jesus' presence is related to the breadth of our view of the Jesus whom we receive in communion: We receive the Risen Lord Jesus who is inseparable from the people whom he redeemed; so that our communion with him mysteriously engages us in communion with others, Long ago St. Augustine wrote: "We receive what we are; we are what we receive, the Body of Christ." And also, "We say Amen to what we are, the B~dy of Christ." In receiving Christ we somehow receive others into ourselves; we are put in touch with them on a profound level. " The context of the Seder meal in which Jesus instituted the Eucharist was, and still is, an experience of celebration and communion, for" those participating, in the various presences of Yahweh. The gestures and' rites expressed solidarity; the history proclaimed was a family history of ~the people, extending into the very time of celeb~:ation, wherein Yahweh was present in their midst, Jesus took the richness of that meal and transformed it; he took the whole community dimension 'that was essential to it and gave it an even deeper m~aning with his promise to be with those gathered in his name. But he challenges his disciples to awareness of this presence of his; for it does not happen automatically in one's life and a community can easily miss the Jesus in whose name they are gathered. It is not enough to focus on the word, the altar, the minister. Jesus' washing the feet of his disciples reveals another facet of Eucharist: the service dimension in which the liturgy of the altar flows forth into the liturgy of life: Jesus' act of washing the feet of the apostles was an integral part of Eucharist and not an isolated event,~ It summed up the self-empty-ing that had been going on all through ,his life and which would ~find its ultimate expression in the total giving of self on Calvary. When he told his disciples "Do this in memory of me," Jesus would have referred to more than the institution of his Body and Blood. His charge to the apostles would have encompassed what led up to the actual words of institution and the whole spirit of gelf-emptying that underlied them. His command to "wash one another's feet" is closely related to "Do this in memory of me"; 1~.2 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 for without the spirit of mutual se.rvice expressed in washing one another's feet, we will 'not in fact be celebrating in memory of him even though perform the ritual of Eucharist. Eucharist necessitates that those who par-ticipate in it break the bread of their own lives with others and pour forth their blood for others in service. Christ made it clear that it was by love for others that people would recognize his disciples, and love finds its expression in servibe of others. We have only to reflect on the parable of the last judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of the Gospel according to Matthew to see the connection Jesus made between service of others in a communion of love with them and being his disciple. Or consider the words of Jesus when his disciples wanted him to disperse the crowds when it was getting late: "Give them something to eat yourselves" (Mt 14:16; Lk 9:13). The eucharistic tone.of the gospel narrations of the incident, is reminiscent of the eucharistic call to serve others, as Jesus himself goes on to serve the crowd--and the people in the crowd also go on to share their goods and serve one another. Every time a community gathers to celebrate Eucharist, it receives a renewed challenge to go forth and serve others and share with others, to wash the feet of those whom we meet--and to let our feet be washed by others, inasmuch as a spirit of service and communion with those whom we serve requir,es an ability to receive as well as to give. All the moments and actions of ministry during each day, and the daily demands and opportunities for creating community are rooted in the liturgy celebrated at the altar, and constitute a large part of the liturgy of daily life in which we are freed from self for others and for the Father. "Do thisAn memory of me" should not be words heard only after the consecration; they should echo in our hearts all day long in all we do and tr), to live. And when our human frailty holds us back from all the self-emptying demanded of a .disciple, we bring our weakness and human failings to the next Eucharist to find therein the healing and strengthening we need to face the future .challenges of service to which that Eucharist sends us forth. Eucharist involyes not simply celebration but proclamation. "When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes" (I Co 11:26). How often those words are said or sung as an acclamation without their meaning being grasped! "The death of the Lord" speaks the love of Christ, the love that is at the heart of mission. Eucharist celebrates that love and calls the disciple to continue that love in his/her own life and proclaim it by action. The Eucharist charges individuals and commun!ties not to live for self, but to reach out to others in love and compassion, prolonging the mission of Christ right into the present. It ¯ demands that we be Christ in our day in our love for the Father and our Eucharistic Community of Disciples / 1133 sisters and brothers, laying aside untlue concern for self for the sake of others. Eucharist is not really celebrated if the proclamation of love in action is absent from the lives of those who assemble at the Eotd's table. St. Pa.ul .made this very clear in his reprimands of the Corinthian community who violated the fundamental meaning of the symbol of the Christian agape. We, too, fall into contradiction if we live in indifference to others after drinldng;~he cup of the Lord's Blood and thereby asserting'a r~Com-mitmbht to follow Jesus in the selflessness of discipleship.2 Christ queries us ifi eac~ Eucharist, as he asked James and John, whether we can drink the cup of freedom from self for others in love. When we view Eucharist as proclamation, there are implications for how we regard others, and whether our vision corr.esponds to that of Jesus. The Jesus of the Gospels shows reverence for the unique dignity of each individual; He treats others as sisters and brothers and shows special con-cern for those mistreated or rejected by society. He reaches out to others and does not live closed in on himself. The Eucharist we celebrate declares that this is the manner of acting for t.he Christian community. The procla-mation of "the death of the Lord until he comes" speaks loudly against injustice and lack of peace, but we can be deaf to the message when we are unaware of Eucharist as a challenging proclamation. It.is not enough to view Eucharist as a celebration of what we.have come to be as Christians and of the gifts we have received. While there is place for focusing on the pasL there must also,be a look to the future and to .the present with the calls to share, to serve and to proclaim that Christ's love is very much alive today. To be eucharistic means more than, to be a people of thanksgiving living in a spirit of gratitude, for Eucharist embraces calls for living discipleship and continuing to enter more deeply into it. To be a eucharistic person or community is to live a life .integrated around Eucharist in its different dimensions of community, prgclamation and ,service as well as the tradi-tional aspects of adoration, .praise, thanksgiving and reparation. The more we ponder over the facets of Eucharist, the more our day will be centered around it and be affected by it. We will perceive our day as being one in which we are missioned at the Eucharist to go forth and live and do what we proclaim at the altar; and we will come back to the Lord's table conscious of the ways we have not fully lived Eucharist because self has gotten in the way. And we will come together as community to be healed, freed and strengthened to go forih again in eucharistic mission. ~ / Review for Religious, Novembei'-December, 1985 NOTES lOne of the most valual~le sources for renewed eucharistic spirituality is the magazine Emma~uel published by the Blessed Sacrament Fathers, 194 East 76th St., N.Y., N.Y. 10021. In recent years a number of articles have appeared that afford very rich insights. Among others that could be cited: James Feeley, "TheologieS of'Eucharist" in April and May issues, 1981; James Feeley, "Eucharist as Compelling Service'r in June, 1981; Paul Bernier~ "Changing Eucharistic Perspectives" in,July/Aug., !1981; Paul Bernier, "A Century of Congresses" in Sept., 1981; :Eugene LaVerdiere, "Proclaiming the Death of the Lord" in Oct., 198 i; Joseph Hart, "The Splendor of the Eucharist" in April, 1982; Eugene LaVerdiere and John Gartner~ "Eucharist as Proclamation" in April, 1982; John Gartner and Eugene LaVerdiere, "Eucharist as Liberatiofi" in May, 1982; and 'Eugene. L~iVerdiere and John Gartner, "Eucharist and CommuniOn" in June and Sept., 1982. ' ~See Eugene LaVerdiere, "Can You Drink the Cup?" in Emmanuel, vol. 89, no: 10, Nov. 1983, pp. 490-495. The Good News ' Good news is oven-fresh and warm like bread in morning nostrils It's felt in channels of the blood ~like anticipated supper, down highway,~ rides. It's news read under lighled lamps ~ warm with the glow of chaliced wine Down all the streets and byways of our twisted years. Good news is sharing of the Word, fresh and warm communion Not yesterday's news from vacant lots or jammed in sealed-up windows, ' , Good news lets in a radiant light washed clean in morning deE, Good news is news that will not stand still. See it rise in serene suspense as each sun rises toward each day Not in cyclic repetitions but spiraling bell-tongued from towers Calling all things to itself in its tremendous inward and upward thrust Good news is news that will not stand still. Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6321 Clemens Ave. St. Louis, MO 63130 Inculturation, Community, and Conversion Gerald A. Arbuckle, S:M. Father Arbucl~le is well known t0our readers fo.r the insightful articles from his pen which have graced our pages in recent years. He has agfeed to Offer ihe fourth anrual Spring Lecture, jointly sponsored by REVIEW FQR RELIGIOUS and St. Louis University's Department of.Theological Studies, next March. Father Arbuckle may be addressed at his congregation'~ generalate: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. In language that is remarkably radical, Paul VI ten years ago identified the scope of evangelization with the transformation of cultures. ~What matters," he wrote, "is to evangelize hlJman culture and ~:ultures, not merely in a purely decorative way, as it were by applying a thin veneer, but in a vital way, in depth, and right to their very roots." l For the pope e~,a,ngeliza-tion must come alive to the people in and throughthe symbols that have meaning for them? But he is no cultural romantic, no cultural i'elativist. In the light of the Gospel some, culturally a~cept~ble symbols or customs may have to b6 rejected, others encouraged to develop. In other words, thee pope is speaking of what we now call inculturation, that is, "the dynamic relation between the Christian message and culture or cultures; an insertion of the Christian life into a culture; an ongoing process of reciprocal and critical interaction and assimilation between them."3 Religious are ,evangdizers. But to evangelize, they must first be evange-lized themselves.4 Put in another way, if they are to be agents of inculiura-tion for others,, they must first undergo inculturation themselves~ They must first submit, and keep on submitting, their own lives, their own religious life culture, to the critical evaluation of the Gospel. They must see 835 Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 to what extent their community life, their lifestyles, are negatively or posi-tively influenced by the culture to which they belong, An objective evaluation of one's culture is far from simple. It is so easy to be deceived. Some time ago I heard a European missionary working in a South-East Asian country make the following comment: I have just visited a very large formation house for religious clerical students. The quality of community life is just so perfect, so Christian. There is gentleness, humility among the candidates. No one steps out of line. No one is ever alone. There is so much harmony here. Just so different from the individualism of the western world. Contrast this with a comment of another religious priest, this time within a Western country: The community where our few students are being trained is so mature. Each student is challenged to stand on his own feet. None of this together-ness emphasis. They rarely come together; this shows their maturity, their lack 6fneed, for emotional props.° I feel this is real community. How are these comments to be evaluated? Both commentators assert that the communiiies they refer to are deeply Christian. But in fact are they so perfect? Both commentators stress opposite values: th~ value of being tightly integrated in the group and the value of standing alone. According to Gospel orientations, can both emphases be correct? How far are the reactions of the participants in ihe houses influenced by.their cultures so that the consciofis effort at building realChristian co~mianity is minimized? These are complex, but urge~nt, ~uestions. Religious may be helped to answer them with the aid of anthrbpoi~gical insights. After a'lL in~:ulturation is the evangelization' of culture and cultural anthrop~ology specializes in the systematic .study of culture. In ~ttiis article, therefore, I will seek to: -define wh~it is meant by community; ~-define culture, and describ~ Variou~ cultural ~xpr~ssions of community; -r~flect ori incuituratioh, conversion a~d~community in religious life; ' -suggest some practical formation implications of the analysis. '~ Reflections on the Nature of Community Despite the ease with which the word community is used, it is not so easy to define what it means. After reviewing ninety four definitions of community, one author concluded that "beyond thd conceptthat people are involved in commu.nity, there is no complete agreement as to the nature of community.~5 Despite this difficulty, for thepurpose of this article we might accept the distinction made by Raymond Plant: Commu.nity, he says, should be considered eithdr as a fact or as a value? Community as a' Inculturation, Community, and Conversion /837 ~fact is something sociologically definable. As a fact, community is "essen-tially a sentiment which people have about themselves; a sentiment expressed in action and behavior but still basically a feeling."7 According to David Clark, two essential feelings for the existenc~ of community are a sense, of significance and a sense of solidarity. Individuals feel they have an accepted position in the group. This gives them a feeling of significance. They feel bonds with one another; thi~ gives them a sense of solidarity. How significance and how solidarity are to be expressed in fact are most often determined by the cultui'e, or belief systems, of the people who.make up the.community. Some cultures heavily stress significance, others solidar-ity; others seek to balance the two feelings. When we speak of community as value we move away from the socio-logical area into the .ethical, .(he philosrphical or theological areas. How one defines what a community shouM be will depend on one's values.8 If one believes that the .bonds between, members of a community should be ~arkedly strong, then individuals may be forced to weaken their own feeling of personal significance. If the latter is. given top priority, then solidarity itself may weaken: For the Christian, community as a value takes its foundation from the Trinity: "May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you" (Jn 17:21). We struggle, with the grace of God, to give visible expression 'to the presence of the Trinity-- a sharing in love and in openness, but without the loss of personal unique-ness~ There is emphasis on other-centeredness; that is, concern for the welfare of the other, .but without loss at the same time of one's responsibility for oneself. There is allowance .for "both autonomy and mutuality.-9 There is to be the unity of heart and mind. Unity--which is not necessarily tl~e .same as uniformity--is to be achieved in and through healthy interaction, dialogue and charity,t0 It is a unity born out of freedom in Christ. Cultural Expressions of Community .,"Community" emphasizes the peoplb who feel .personal significance and/or solidarity; "culture" emphasizes the way people express this feeling in practice, The values and biases of our family, neighborhood, and com-munity to which we belong have in so many ways been shaping our feelings; emotions, and way~ of responding. Our ways of relating to other people; to those in authority, are "never simply spontaneous, but are care-fully--- if often unconsciously--learned from life around us." ~ Anthropol-ogists remain divided on how to define culture in a comprehensive way. Some would stress the importance of what people do rather than believe. More commor~ly today, however, culture is used to refer to the organized system of knowledge, of belief, whereby a people structure their experience I~1t / Review f.or Religious; November-December, 1985 and perceptions, formulate acts, and choose, between alternatives. This sense of culture refers to the realm of ideas that influences (not determines) behavior, As Ward Goodenough says, ideas "provide standards for deciding what is., what can be., how one feels about it . what to do about it . how to go about doing it."~2 Understood in this sense, culture has a deep, often unconscious, influence on behavior.: Culture gives us meanings about, the things_that we see to be important; culture gives us a sense of direction. Culture tells, us what the people we live and work with consider good or bad. Culture tells us what sanctions, if any, we will suffer if we do not accept what others do or want in.the community to which we belong. Anthropologist Mary Douglas, a leading contemporary commentator on ritual and society, in an effort to articulate how individuals can be pressured by culture to respond in certain ways, uses two basic variables: group and grid.~3 The group is the experience of belonging to a social unit, the 'feeling that "I belong to this group of people and not that group 'of people." Put in another way, group means "the outside boundary that people~have erected between themselves and the outside world."~a The grid is the set of rules, the (tangible or intangible) structures or systems that relate one person to others on an ego-centered basis. Or it connotes, asshe herself writes, "all the~other social distinctions and delegations of authority that [are used] to limit how people,behave to one another."tS~ From these two variables she creates four models of culture. I will .restrict the analysis here only to two rather important, polar-opposite models: "strong group and strong grid culture" and "weak group and weak grid culture.'~ Community will be expressed in two different ways in these cultures. ~ ,ln the ~explanation that follows, I will give more emphasis to the first model for two reasons. Firstly, information on this model is not so easily available to the general reader, unlike the material relating to the second model. Secondly, whereas the number of candidates fog the religious life is severely decreased in Western ~hurches (except in Poland and Ireland), Africa, Asia~and Oceania are seeing a true explosion of religious vocations. There is also a similar pattern relating to the recruitment of priest candi-dates.~ 6 The cultures,of these, countries tend to approximate more to the first model than the second. Diocesan authorities, religious superiors and formators, then; may very specially need to appreciate the formation and inculturation implications of this model. On the other hand, considerable literature is available on the second model, a model that has application in many parts of the Western. world. Before proceeding with the analysis, however, two clarifications are necessary. I will be describing two sociological models or frames of refer- lnculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1139 ence. A model is not a perfect abstraction from reality. Rather a model is very much a construct used to facilitaie a better understanding of very complex situations. A model reflects, reality to the extent that it highlights certain emphases or trends. A particular cultui'e can then be researched to discover just how far it conforms or diverges from the model. Secondly, though the first model is particularly common throughout Africa;~Asia, Oceaniaand South America, this does not mean it is not also operative within Western countries, It is just less dominant in these coun-tries, Similarly when I refer to the second model, weak group.and weak grid, as particularly characterizing Western countries, it does not mean it does not have application at times also in parts of the Third World lands. Strong Group and Strong Grid Culture . Inthis model the strong grid involves moral and normative prohibitions that limit or highly structure interaction. The stress on group identity gives security to,individuals, but at the same time confines them to close relations only with people within the boundaries of the group. The feeling of solidar-ity, not personal significance, characterizes this culture and thus is the dominant expression of community living: Within the community, behavior is highly traditional; what was done in the past becomes the measure of what should bedone now and in the future, Frequently, the position of each individual within tt]e community is clearly-- and even rigidly--defined, even before birth, by the rules of kinship, Kin-ship (the extended family system) is the articulating principle of all social and economic organization. For example, all members of one's tribe or clan may be named "grandfather," "grandmother," "father" or "mother," "brother" or "sister," "son" or "daughter" depending on the ages of those concerned, e.g. all males belonging to my father's generation are called ~ather." The titles denote what behavior is expected of the people with whom one comes into contact. The effective principle ,that binds people together in such c~ultures and communities is reciprocity. Often kinship rules dictate precisely who receives what, how much and from whom. Within cultures of this type there is a vigorous ideology that gives priority, to group cohesiveness, togetherness, interdependence and group harmony. Often this ideology is summarized in one word or in a brief expression. For example, among Maoris in New Zealand there is the term aroha. The root meaning of aroha is "love of kin," and it implies not only affectionate feelings but also the issue of these feelings in action. Since kinship is now not so'important to Maoris, aroha is applied to friends also, but still in the event of conflict the sense of obligation to kin is likely to prove the stronger.~7 ~ / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 In Papua New Guinea, where there are five :hundred languages and at least one thousand dialects for 3',000,000 .people, the commonly heard expression is wantok ("one-talk" or.same language).~8 In Japan the word wa is Used; the word connotes the priority that must be given to unity, cohesiveness, team spirit, the:cultivation of good feelings among members of the same firm or family,t9 In the Philippines ~faithfulness to the group, called, bayanihan, is emphasized.2° A particularly key expression in Philippines~culture is paki-kisama; this underlies virtually the entire structure of social relationships~ Priority is given to smooth interpersonal relationships at all times and pakikisama is a primary way of achieving such smoothness. It' means "giving in," "following the lead or suggestion of another"; in a word, "concession," even when one knows that the coffcession is objectively wrong.2~ Pakikisama, as a value, favors avoidance of direct confrontaiion that could lead to open and violent aggressive behaviors, The desire for' frictionless relationships can result in extensive use of euphemism in con-versation, and the speech is loaded with metaphors that convey a message with minimum risk of offense3 There are few concepts, as deeply rooted in the Western mind as the concept of self. Westerners generally are apt to see (hemselves as distinct beings, "separate from all others in most important respects, with separable beliefs, talents, and experiences. 23 In contrast to this approach, Japanese see themselves or define themselves as part of a larger group. One's separate "identity" is not separated "out as the primary sign of personal development; maturity for them usually means merging with the collective whole. The Western interpretation of~ maturity lies precisely in the autonomy of .the individual. Japanese, in brief, derive their identities in part from those nearest to them. There is a partial merging of identities so that the identity of the group is apt to be the dominant force: As in Japanese culture, so in these other cultures which resemble the strong group and strong grid model. Collectivism, or the feeling of solidarity, with stress upon harmony and consensus, generates pressure .for conformity to group norms, pressure to ~'be like everyone else." Conspicuous idiosyncracy and dissension are avoided or suppressed, and acquiescence is upheld as main mechanismsfor maintaining consensus. There are many subtle but effective ways to ensure conformity to the group and to behavior expectations of the group (grid). There is the fear of being gossiped about, of being made the object of ridicule. if norms are broken. ~ ¯ The Japanese sociologist, Chie Nakane, in explaining the stress on the group as the foundation for community, says that people adhere to the group "not by religion or philosophy but by a very human morality. The Inculturation, Community, and Conversion / 041 yardstick of this morality is always determined by contemporary trends. The feeling that '.I must do this because A and B also do it' or 'They will laugh at me unless I do such-and-such' rules the life of the individual with greater force ~han any other consideration, and thus has a deep effect on decision,making."24 The fear of being shamed if one does something differ-ent ~from the group holds the individual in check. The adoption of Western ambitions for personal freedom is almost incomprehensible to persons with traditional Japanese assumptions about group loyalty. As in Japan, so also in other cultures which approximate to our model of strong group and strong grid. One famous Fijian leader commented on the vital quality of liberality as an expression of solidarity within the group: "Liberality is the law of tradition, and to give evidence of thrift or arouse suspicions of miserliness is to sin against the law."25 Of Tahitians, B. Finney writes: "Stinginess is not admired., and anyone judged stingy is often pejoratively referred to as Popa's (European)."26 The concept of hiya in the Philippines has been described as shame, but the English word does not adequately convey the .term's meaning. It is a form of self-deprecation, involving embarrassment, inferiority, and shyness all arising from having behaved improperly in relating to the group. The fear of being shamed is one of the more powerful sanctions operating to maintain the overall system of social and group relationships?7 The fear of being cast out of the group, ostracism, either by being physically removed or verbally ignored or snubbed, is a most powerful sanction against individual non-conformity to group and grid demands. In Genesis Cain is not to be executed for murdering Abel. His punishment is to be yet worse: ". 'You shall be a fugitive and a wanderer over the earth.' Then Cain said to Yahweh, 'My punishment is greater than I can bear'" (4:1 2-13). In ~'strong group and strong grid" cultures people may attempt to break away from the group demands, but few can take the ostracism for very long.28 Finally, there is the ever-present fear in many communities that if the norms of group and grid are not followed, there will be supernatural sanctions imposed: the spirits, ancestors, witches, sorcerers, or even God himself will impose punishment on wrongdoers. Punishment may be immediate or long delayed, e.g~ a person, becomes sick and then remembers :a group norm was broken sometime in the past. Sometimes the wrong-doing can be comPensated for, e.g. by girl giving, or sometimes people feel that nothing can be done, and death or suffering must be accepted in a spirit of fatalism.29 Weak Group and Weak Grid In this model both group and grid or social networks have little grip on 1t42 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 individuals. The emphasis is on individualism, on individual decision-mak-ing and initiative. As Ferdinand Tonnies put it: '~'Here everyone is by himself and isolated, and there exists a condition of tension against all others. Their spheres of activity and power are sharply separated, so that everybody' refuses to everyone else contacts with and admittance to his sphere, i~e. intrusions are regarded as hostile acts."30 Interpersonal relation-ships are basically competitive. People compete with each other to gain personal advantage, status. There is no deep mutual sentiment that can generate trust and reciprocal concern. Inter:relationShips are governed by formal contracts; people are ever ready'legally,to sue one another for suspected violation of personal rights in all kinds of spheres. Douglas describes the model in this way: "Instead of accepting their allotted station in a given scheme of things, as where grid is strong, each family is involved, for its very survival, in the effort for advantageous alliance--marital, de-fensive, or financial.''3~ We still refer to this type of interrelationship as community, not just because personal significance is stressed but because in some very vague, but real, way people feel some sentiment' of solidarity, even if it is paradoxi-cally conflictual. They may fe~l some sense of common, belonging, ever so faint, because they live in the same house br work in the same building or firm. But it is a sense of belonging that is so weak that it cannot be depended on for much support, if any, when one is in difficulty. In this model personal significance is vigorously emphasized. Hence, the stress on individualism and the struggle to establish a sense of personal acceptance in community through competitive work and through material symbols of achievement. But the struggle .for .status in such a competitive world is a never-ending battle, with success at best very fleeting. In this culture model, the cult of self-fulfillment is strong~ how can I best improve myself through my own efforts, my own self-discipline, my own efforts at manipulation of others for my advantage?32 Recently social-economist Amitai Etzione severely criticized the United States for uncriti-cally adopting this model of culture and community: "[We] have experienced a hollowing of America in which community was whittled down. Greater reliance on government has been accompanied by promotion of a particular brand of individualism best labeled egotism, sometimes referred to as 'me-ism' or hedonism, and . . . built into antisocial interpretations of the psychology of self-actualization."3~ Some claim that people like Locke, Hobbes and Adam Smith contrib-uted to the emergence of the weak group and grid culture in America, because these authors stressed the primacy of the individual and the wisdom of a society built on self-sufficiency.34 But America is not alone in stressing lnculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1143 the significance of the individual to the detriment of solidarity. Within the Australian ,popular folklore, for example, there is also the cult of the rugged individualist. As one writer said "the Australian way of life" was "something much deeper than words can depict," that it embodied some "inner principle'~' which, although difficult to define, was related to "the freedom, the security, the justice and the individualism of life in this sun-burned, muscular continent."35 Evaluation of the Two Culture/Community Models E. Aronson.points out that the human person can respond to social/ cultural influence in three possible ways: by compliance, identification or internalizationP6 Compliance connotes the reaction of a person who behaves in a certain way to gain ~reward 9r to avoid punishment. If the group pressure to act is sufficiently strong, .then the person who~complies will go along with the group to acquire praise or avoid difficulties, Decisions as to what to do or not do: are taken, without his involvement or responsibility. When identification takes place a person acts in a certain way in imita-tion of the person who is influencing him. The action is done not to ga!n a reward or avoid punishment, but simply to be like the influencer. The internalization .of a value or belief is by far the. most permanent, most deeply rooted, response to outside influence. The reason to internalize a particular belief is the desire ,to be right. The reward for the~ belief, is intrinsic. A personal conversion is required to achieve internalization in" order to withstand the pressures for compliance and in order to avoid the fickleness of identification. ln~.the two culture/community models described above, are there., influences that foster or hinder the internalization of Gospel community values? Are there~factors within these models that are conducive to Gospel ."a.utonomy and mutuality"~. I will take each model in turn and attempt to respond to these questions. Evaluation of the Strong Group and Strong Grid Culture A researcher who studied seventy years of parliamentary ~debates in New Zealand reflected on the consequences of what was then an example of strong group and strong grid culture emphases: "Here in a small and culturally homogeneous milieu is the spectacle of a majority rule producing some of the consequences. : the dulling effect of the mass mind, the dominance of conventional opinion, the despotism of custom, the intoler-ance of unorthodoxy, the sacrifice of talent to the worship of averages, a world made safe for mediocrity."37 In the strong group ~and grid culture, 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 uniformity in behavior becomes almost synonymous with patriotism. The pressure to conform to the group, and to the established, detailed, rules of life, can be so strong .that the individual's capacity to make independent judgments and to take autonomous action in light of Gospel values is severely restricted. The culture provides, therefore, little or no opportuni-ties for significant independent and responsible personal action. The sense of individual identity is anchored in group belongingness and is thus sustained by going along with peers. This goes with the desirability of being accepted by peers, the anxiety connected with being left out, and a competitive urge for always being in. One economist, reflecting on the causes of povery within the Pacific Islands, pointed to the traditional dominance of the group over the individual as one major obstacle to the removal, of poverty: Generous giving has been elevated to a very high place in traditional standards . Taking advantage of a general acceptance of this customary attitude, proceedsfrom the sale of crops, wages orany accumulated prop-erty are subject to demands from all sides.; the proportionate scale and nature of these demands being such that it is difficult for any individual tO retain funds or .useful property and the earner or producer after successive distributions is usually discouraged from making further effort.38 Given pressures of this kind, it is very difficult for the individual to come into contact with his or her real self, with the reality of loneliness. One becomes imprisoned by group pressures, isolated from one's inner self. "The stress on togetherness," write Eric and Mary Josephson, "is a particu-larly pernicious pulsation that may acquire a pathological character. While togetherness may lessen the feeling of being lonely, it is really only an exchange of isolation for an unrealistic'imprisonment of brotherhood'?'39 Not only does the pressure to conform to the group result in hiding One's own loneliness, but the pressure to appear happy and one with others can cover over real tensions, aggressive feelings and'~ anger which remain unresolved. Westerners, who may come from cultures that overstress ruthless and competitive individualism, when they come into contact with strong group and grid cultures--in which harmony and.external conformity are stressed-- are tempted !o fall victim.to the pernicious disease of cultural romanticism. They fail to see that individuals can be culturally oppressed. This is the case in the comments by the first observer to whom I referred in the introduction of this article. The observer assumed that the cheerfulness he saw was inspired by .Gospel values. I, for my part, cannot be so sweeping in my praise. The observer noted that "no one is ever alone." The particular culture on which the observer was commenting was of the strong group Inculturation, Community, and Conversion/.1145 and grid type, in which a person regularly spending lengthy periods of time . alone in reflection and study was considered definitely odd, even a traitor tothe group's idea of Gospel community.~ In this culture individuals lacked the space, freedom, challenge and support, to be themselves, to be auto-nomous. The same community covered over very real interpersonal ten-sions. If such tensions were ever to come out into the open, to be resolved in a Christian manner, it was thought, such revelations would destroy "the God-given, culture-supported harmony." In brief, in answer to the above questions about internalization, the strong group and grid culture is not necessarily conducive to the internali-zation of Gospel community based on thevalues of autonomy and mutual-ity. Rather, individuals are subjected to strong cultural forces or biases that are conducive to compliance or external acceptance of the group's ~values. Evangelization is apt to remain a thin veneer, something "purely decora-tive.'' 4° If.individuals are suddenl~ removed from such a culture, not infre-quently the fa~ilure to internalize the objective values of Christian autonomy -and mutuality shows up only too dramatically and painfully. For example, migrants who, within their countries of origin, have been living a form of cultural Catholicism are not likely to continue to practice their faith in the land of their adoption--unless there is a conversion and an internalization of Catholic values.4~ To the unsuspecting observer, therefore, the pleasantness that so often pervades the strong group and grid cultures may come across as thoroughly Christian and growth-oriented. But the reality, at times can be very different. "Sin,,' for example, can be conceived prima.rily as "individual failure in group obligations." "Sin" in this sense can. be "removed" not necessarily through a reconversion requiring deep interior change, but through a ritual of"face-saving" actions, e.g. the handing over of a certain amount of goods to the one or to the group offended:42 Evangelization of cultures, then, requires sensitivity both to their positive and negative features. "The Gos-pel," writes Paul VI, "[is] certainly not identical with culture."43 "Evaluation of the Weak Group and Weak Grid Culture There are some rather trenchant critiques of cultures that approximate to the weak group and grid culture model. In Australia, claims Ronald Conway, the vigo'rous cultural s.upport for individualism and the competi-tive pursuit of material happiness has left many an Australian "blank-souled," "a starved captive in a dungeon created by generations of either not caring or dreading to show care.''44 He speaks of "fragile foundations of impoverished interpersonal communication."45 In America, social critic John Kavanaugh believes that "Christianity at 1~6 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 rock bottom radically conflicts with American culture, even subverts its';46 He believes that individualism, the ruthless, competitive pursuit of material happiness and achievement all conflict with Gospel values. Historian David Potter's insights would support this view. He argues that the search for personal freedom, coupled with the rejection of any society-ascribed statuses, has gone so far within the American ethos that people have become involved in a never-ending search through work for improved, personally achieved statuses. The loneliness, isolation, insecurity and ten-sions, he states, that result within individuals who are caught up in this '~status rat race" are enormous and overpowering for many individuals.47 Christopher Lasch claims that in. America "the culture of competitive indi-vidualism., in its decadence has carried the logic of individualism to the extreme of a war of all against all, the pursuit of happiness to the end of a narcissistic .preoccupation with the self."48 Joseph Tetlow claims that American culture so stresses the value of good health and .the value of .being young that "This conviction stamps our religious experience in a very notable way and gives concrete shape to our spirituality. For Americans do not easily believe that Grd loves someone and has forgiven that person's sins as long as that person suffers in any way."~9 We need comment no further. So forceful can the weak group and grid culture be in exalting the powers and worth of the individual that terms'like "human interdependence," "mutuality," "social justice" and "compassion for the marginal" sound almost sinful! Compassion; social justice, Charity, mutuality--are atthe very heart of the Christian message. If culture vigor-ously supports the contrary values--as does the weak group and grid culture then individuals are under strong pressure at least to comply with such forces. Not to comply is to be considered odd, a dropout, one who does not believe in the importance of status-seeking. ' Given these comments, readers will now be rather suspicious of the second comment, regarding a religious community of students; which was given in the introduction to this article. The words "[th6 students] rarely come together: this shows their maturity" rather reflect the wider cultural stress on "rugged individualism" in the sense pictured above. Members of that religious formation house may well find the following description highly congenial to their cultural tastes: "Commt:nity is seen as a necessary encumbrance, for the paying of bills, for security, or just for convenience . Use of the car and enough money for each member to become independent becomes the major issues."5° Recently Eugene Kennedy, summarizing social criticism of America (and by implication, similar cultures), noted the "elevation of the individual and his or her own world to a dizzying centrality in life. A new Inculturation, Community, and Conversion / 1147 authoritarianism resides in the unattached person, a tyranny is exercisedby a person who counts on nobody, affiliates loyally with no one,.and finds the beginning and end of gratification in the self .This leads to a muted ethical sense."~ These weak group and grid characteristics have no place within religious communities. But Philip Slater, another perceptive critic, while agreeing with Kennedy and others about the excessive individualism, believes also that there is a desire--however weak--for community, for the opportunity to share with others in a spirit of trust and cooperation.52 Evangelization needs to relate to this aspiration. Inculturation and Conversion We return to a deeper understanding of inculturation. It is the dynamic and critical interaction between the Gospel message and each culture. This is a radically different process from that of acculturation. The latter is a process of culture change in which ~ore or less continuous contact between two ormore culturally distinct groups results in one group taking over elements of the culture of the other group or groups. For example, when, in the course of the last century, Christianity came to Samoa in the South, Pacific, it took deep roots in the local society. But at least at one key level Christidnity became acculturated to the existing system of traditional government. The traditional, chiefly rank system became sanctioned and supported by Jehovah himself, according to local interpretations of biblical history. When chiefs punished, Jehovah punished. The status quo became utterly frozen, supported now with supernatural sanctions. Little wonder if Christian ministers themselves became equivalently chiefs, wielding consid-erable power and°authority--all in the name of Jehovah. Christianity lost its freedom at a crucial level; it became trapped in the traditional authority system .53 John Futrell points out a more contemporaryexample of acculturation. When reflecting on what happened to religious life following Vatican If, he wrote on how religious acculturated values and customs of the consumer culture into their own lifestyle: "Along with th& affirmation of the world came a rapid a~similation of the lifestyle of the social subject being served . Religious began more and more" to live the way of upper-middle-class families and unconsciously fell prey to a creeping consumerism.TM How then can such acculturation be avoided? How in fact does incultu-ration take place, so that religious communities can reflect Gospel values? Who does the inculturation? John Paul II offers the answers to these questions, lnculturation, he says, must be the fruit of maturity~'in faith; it requires ',a great deal of 8411 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1985 theologicai lucidity, spiritual discernment, wisdom and prudence, and also time . [and] there is always a conversion to be effected., to the person of Christ,"5.SElsewhere, he insists that inculturation "presupposes a long and courageous process., in order that the Gospel may penetrate the soul of living cultures.''56 Then there will be "the liberation, the purification, the transfiguration" desired by Jesus Christ.57' There is no shortcut to inculturation, no room for gimmicks, It requires, following John Paul II: -a lucid vision of religious life; -a critical reflection on cultures in light of this vision; -personal and community ongoing conversion. 1. Vision of Religious Life Religious accept, as the basic orientation of their lives, that all Christians "of whatever rank or status are called to. the fullness of the Christian life. and the perfection of charity."58 Religious without res

Issue 41.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1982. ; A Pope for Religious Advent: Not Ours But God's Religious in Politics Volume 41 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 1982 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REvIEw FOR REt.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO: © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. 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A Pope for Religious: John Paul II on the Consecrated Life Barbara Albrecht This article is the Introduction to the book of homilies, addresses and writings edited by Dr. Albrecht: Johannes Paul II: Gottgeweihtes Leben (Vallendar-SchiSnstatt: Patris Verlag, 1982). pp. 336. It was translated by Sister M. Ingeborg, O.S.F.; St. Francis Novitiate; 2120 Central Avenue: Alton, IL 62002. His special messages and conferences, the many addresses to religious in Rome and during his pastoral travels show us in John Paul II a pope who is truly a friend who genuinely treasures religious communities. John Paul 1I has a very special sensitivity for the specific charism of each community, for its singular importance .in the life of the Church as a whole. The religious vocation belongs to that "spiritual fullness which the Spirit himself--the Spirit of Christ--brings forth,and molds in the People of God. Without religious orders, without 'consecrated' life, by means of its vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, the Church would not be fully herself."l The pope, himself a strong spiritual leader, forcefully reminds us of the priori-ties of religious life. He accentuates, warns of dangers, challenges--and all this as one who, with inner strength and clarity, tries to live out the mission of his office, fully aware of his responsibility before its Lord t:or the Church in our time. A survey of the highlights of John Paul's teaching makes for an effective summary of a practical theology of religious life. Call to Religious Life The interplay of the divine free call and the human freeyes to that call in a life ~To Superiors General of Men, Rome, November 24, 1978. L'Osservatore Romano. December 7, 1978, p. 3. All citations are from L'Osservatore Romano. and will be indicated by date of issue and page (English Edition). 801 1~02 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 consecrated to the Triune God is a mystery which e.merges out of the "creative initiative of God" and his loving providence over each individual.2 The call to religious life, then, is not first of all a duty, but a gift, "an immense and gratuitous gift from God."3 It is the basis for continuous thanksgiving and deep joy and, yes, for wonder! This is the ever-new wonder: "Whoever takes up the risk of following a religious vocationTM gains, "through the sweet breath of the Holy Spirit in his frail human reality a real form." At the same time, John Paul is caught by the "strength which, consolidating us in love, incorporates our existence with the work of God, with his plan of re-creating man in Christ, that is, the formation of his new redeemed family."~ This Christian calling is not for the individual alone. On the contrary, it is always an offer of love and of salvation for all. This is the fact that gives to each one who is called a responsibility for others through the witness of his life and of his service.6 A vocation to religious life is a mystery of love-as-dialogue because "we respond lovingly to the initiative of love," as the pope told seminarians and candidates for religious life in Porto Alegre.7 Our yes, given in love, is a matter of our faith in the faithful God, the faith with which the individual firmly grounds himself in God who calls. And simultaneously ouryes is the greatest expression of our freedom. This loving, free answer of ours is expressed in the threefold vows of the evangelical counsels. John Paul told reli-gious men in Chicago: No matter what others may contend or the world may believe, your promises to observe the evangelical counsels have not shackled your freedom. You are not less free because you are obedient, and you are not less loving because of your celibacy. On the contrary: The faithful practice of the evangelical counsels accentuates your human dignity, liberates' the human heart . But this freedom of an individed heart (see I Co 7:23-35) must be maintained by continual vigilance and fervent prayer.8 This vigilance refers especially to the authenticity of our life of the evangelical counsels. One important aspect of this authenticity is the art with which conse-crated men and women give their total love to God and, at the same time, meet their brothers and sisters--freely and effortlessly. The pope expressed this to women religious in Paris: May your vow of consecrated virginity impel you to join in actual fact with your brothers and sisters in humanity, in the concrete situations in which they find themselves! So many people of our world are, as it were, lost, crushed, without hope! Being mindful of the norms of prudence, make them feel that you love them in the manner of Christ, drawing from his heart 2To Those Called to the Priesthood and Religious Life and Their Directors, Porto Alegre, July 5. 1980. July 28, 1980. p. 6. ~To the Union of Superiors General of Won~en, Rome, November 14. 1979. November 26, 1979, p. 8. 4To Women Religious, Paris. May 31, 1980. June 9, 1980, p. 7. ~To Seminarians at the Major Seminary inGuadalajara, January 30, 1979. February 19, 1979, p. 4. 6To Women Religious, Paris, May 31, 1980. June 9, 1980, p. 7 7Lot. tit,. p. 6. ¯ 8To Religious Men. Chicago, October 4, 1979. October 29, 1979. p. 5 A Pope for Religious / 1103 the human and divine tenderness that he bears them. You also promised Christ to be poor with him and like him. Certainly our society of production and consumption raises complex problems for the practice of evangelical poverty. This is not the place or the time to discuss them. It seems to me that every congregation must see in this economic phenomenon a providential invitation to give an answer, at once tradi-tional and new. to Christ in his poverty? Poverty must, however, be genuinely evangelical in order to be able to recognize Christ in the "humblest." It is necessary to be able to identify oneself with one's brother in need by being "poor in spirit"(see Mt 5:3). Now this calls for simplicity and humility, love of peace, freedom from dissipative commitments or attachments, an inclination toward total abnegation that is free and obedient, spontaneous and constant, gentle'and strong in the certainties of faith.~° The Gospel meaning of poverty cannot be reduced to its material aspect alone. We have a plethora of possibility today to live it in ever new ways. To recognize such possibility in the Holy Spirit and to act on this understanding--this is the imitation of Jesus Christ, and, at the same time, a real service to our society. "All religious have the responsibility of reintroducing into society, with univocal wit-ness through the conversion of heart and of life-style, the values of real poverty, simplicity of life, fraternal love, and generous sharing."~ The Holy Father deliber-ately ended the fifteenth centenary of St. Benedict, and began the eighth centenary of St. Francis' birth under this heading of poverty. Finally, obedience is "the resolute and constant aspiration to conform our own will to that of God."t2 Religious obedience is certainly the sharpest of the three gold nails which attach [his] imitators to the will of Jesus Christ. Is it possible to look at the cross of the Lord Jesus without conforming to his mystery of obedience to the Father?t3 This question is addressed to all religious. The Holy Father pointed out very clearly that such obedience will find expression in our dependence on human superiors. There is yet another aspect of the consecrated life to which the Holy Father often turned. Such a life, consecrated to the eternal God, of its very essence has a great deal to do with perseverance. In Altftting, he reminded thousands of religious: Believing in the faithfulness of the One who calls and in the power of his Spirit, you put yourselves at God's disposal through the vows of poverty, consecrated virginity, and obedi-ence, and this not as an "obligation which can be revoked," not as a "life in a monastery for a time," not as co-workers in a group that has come together fora specific task and which breaks up again at will. No, in faith you have spoken a yes which is all-inclusive and forever, which finds its expression in your way of life and even in your religious garb. In our time, when people shy away from binding ties, when many would like to turn to a life of"testing," it 9Lot. cir. p. 7. t0To Religious Women, S~o Paulo, July 3, 1980. July 21, "1980, p. 3. ~Homily at St. Paul Outside the Walls. Mar~h 21, 1981. March 30. 1981, "p. 2. ~2To Religious Women of the Umbriah Dioceses. March 23, 1980. March 31, 1980, p. 9. ~3To the Daughters of Charity; January I I, 1980. February 4. 1980, p. 7. 8~ ] Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 belongs to you to testify that one can dare to enter into a definitive bond, to make a decision for God which embraces one's whole life, which makes you free and happy if it is renewed day after day.t4 Persons who give this kind of joyful witness "make the religious vocation in the Church to be something attractive."~5 They are the "best advertisement" for reli-gious vocations. It is self-understood that first of all we have to pray for vocations. But young people should also be enthusiastically invited to this way of following Christ in our pastoral work among the young.~6. Yes, the pope calls upon bishops and priests to become interested on a per-sonal level in religious vocations--just as he did himself when he was bishop in Krakow, and on the occasions of his pastoral journeys later when he became pope. At every opportunity he repeats: Go among the young! Meet them personally and call them. The hearts of the young and those not so young anymore are ready to listen to you. Many are searching for a goal in their lives. They are concerned about discovering a worthwhile mission in life to which they can dedicate themselves. Christ has prepared them for his call and your call. We have to call! The Lord will do the rest. His fundamental suggestion is: "Nothing without God--but nothing also without us!" This very old Catholic truth becomes truly concrete when it is applied to vocations to the consecrated life. The Charism of the Founder At a time when the younger generation appears to have lost any sense for tradition and history (which is one reason for the phenomenon of internal crisis in the Church) it is evident that the pope intends to give clear reminders to religious of their origins. The beginnings of the many orders and religious communities in which indi-viduals today live out their consecrated lives are not at all like musty archives, but like lively fountains, vital fires, lives lived in obedience to the Holy Spirit, lives in which the founders and foundresses, responding to their call from God, accepted and carried out their missions under the most trying of circumstances. At the start of each congregation stands some prophetic figure, one who was seized by a special mission, endowed with a special charism: Each of your founders, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit promised by Christ to the Church, was a man who possessed a particular charism. Christ had in him an exceptional ~instrument" for his work of salvation which, especially in this way, is perpetuated in the history of the human family. The Church has gradually assumed these charisms, evaluated them, and, when she found them authentic, thanked the Lord for them and tried to "put them in a safe place" in the life of the community so that they could always yield fruit)7 Therefore it is the expressed desire of the pope that those who are called to a ~4Homily to Religious, November 18, 1980. December 15, 1980, p. I I. ~To Religious Men, Manila Cathedral, February 17, 1981. February 23, 1981, p. 6. ~6To Bishops of Latin America, Puebla, January 28, 1979. February 5, 1979,~ p. 5. ~TTo Superiors General of Men, Rome, November 24, 1978. December 7, 1978. p. 3. A Pope for Religious consecrated life in community, especially contemplatives, will study more and more deeply, in order to live it more and more intensely, the spirituality of their founders, without letting themselves be tempted by more fashionable methods or tech-niques, the inspiration of which has often little to do with the Gospel. The contemplative and mystical heritage of the Church is exceptionally vast and deep. It is necessary, therefore, to take care that all monasteries will undertake to get to know it, cultivate it, and teach But more than a few religious communities today have forgotten their beginnings. They do not know the specific spirituality and the mission on the basis of which the founding generation took its start. It is no wonder that this leads to a leveling among them, to the loss 6f the spiritual lineaments not only of the specific community but of the entire Church. In truth, it is not surrender to compromise~9 and a leveling process, but a distinctive portrait, not uniformity but a pluralism of charisms that makes for the beauty of the Church. Therefore the pope exhorts: Let every spiritual family watch over its particular identity in view of the good of the whole Church. What is done in one place is not necessarily to be imitated elsewhere.2° The Church needs a clear difference (and not a confusion) and the valid complementarity (and not isolation) of charisms and vocations . The spiritual richness of the Church and of her service to men lies in variety.2~ It is precisely this that presents to the searching Christian youth of today the chance for each one to find his way to follow his call and mission according to God's plan. Only in faithfulness to Christ and to the charism of each founder or foundress will this variety be safeguarded. And only in this faithfulness will be found the key that opens and secures the effectiveness of each order. The Witness of Being Anyone who reads the remarks of the Holy Father with an open mind will perceive his appreciation for the varied activity 0f religious in the apostolate, whether new or old. We could not find a warmer expression of papal approval of service to the poor and sick than in John Paul's letter marking the four-hundredth birthday of St. Vincent de Paul, or more encouraging words about the catechetical and pastoral service of religious women than those he spoke in Kinshasa/Zaire. But all apostolic work would be in vain if it were not founded on a strong spiritual life. What the Holy Father had said to priests and religious in Maynooth, he repeated to the superiors general in Rome, again to the plenary session of the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. and, finally, to monks at Saint Paul's: Your first apostolic duty is your own sanctification. No change in religious life has any importance unless it be also the conversion of yourself to Christ. No movement in religious life has any importance unless it be also a movement inwards to the "still center" of your ~STo Plenary Session of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, Rome, March 7. 1980. March 24, 1980, p. 4. ~gTo Religious Women, Rome. November 10. 1978. November 23, 1978, p. 10. -'°To the Carmelites of Lisieux. June 2, 1980. June 23, 1980, p. 14. 2~To Religious Men. S~o Paulo. July 3, 1980. July 21. 1980, p. 7. 1106 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 existence, where Christ is. It is not what you do that matters most but what you are.:'- It would totally misrepresent his words to interpret this primacy of being and of personal sanctification as some kind of ego-centered salvation. The Holy Father does not want religious to become turned in on themselves, centered around their own egos. But he is concerned "that Jesus must always be first.''-3 He is concerned about their witness "to the primacy of God,"~4 about the credibility of the lives of those who have received the "gift" of a special call in the imitation of Christ.25 This call is something that "deserves, but also costs, the response of our whole being."~6 "A vocation is, therefore, a mystery that man accepts and lives in the depth of his being.''~7 "The Epiphany, the appearance of our Lord, which you love to celebrate here, depends on you!" he told religious women in Africa.28 This summons should be an imperative for us all, " so that the world may believe." Prayer and Contemplation Again and again the Holy Father affirms the absolute necessity of the vertical, contemplative dimension of religious life, and this not just for monastic-contem-plative religious, but for active apostolic communities: daily meditation on the Word of God, personal and communal prayer, gratitude and praise of God, add the petition for the "freedom of an undivided heart."~9 The Holy Father is, of course, aware of the tension between prayer and work. He knows that "a constant danger for apostolic workers is to become so much involved in their own work for the Lord as to forget the Lord of all work."3° But there is another danger in our world today. Through the very s~ams of convent walls seeps "the temptation to activism and distraction that the modern consumer society brings in its train, with all its materialistic overtones.TM Because of this, the Holy Father reminds religious of the absolute necessity of silence in every form of religious life. This element of the spiritual life "calls for areas of actual silence and personal discipline in order to facilitate contact with God."32 What is true for the individual is equally applicable to religious houses: Religious houses must be, above all. oases of prayer and meditation, places of personal and community dialogue with him who is and must remain the first and principal interlocutor of -'-'To Priests, Missionaries. Religious Brothers and Sisters. Maynooth, October I. 1979. October. 15. 1979. p. 6. -'3To Religious Women, Washington. October 7, 1979. November 5, 1979. p. 3. ~4To the International Union of Mothers General, Rome, November 16, 1978. November 30, 1978, p. 3. ~Porto Alegr¢, Ioc. cir. p. 6. 2~To Enclosed Nuns, Guadalajara. January 30, 1979. February 12. 1979. p. 8. ~TPorto AIcgre, Ioc. cit. p. 6. -'SKinshasha, May 3, 1980. May 19, 1980. p. 3. -'~To Religious Men, Chicago, Ioc cit. p. 5. ¯ ~°To Plenary Session of the Sacred Congregation, Ioc. cir. p. 3. 3~To Religious Women, Nagasaki, February 26, 1981. March 9, p. 18. ¯ ~-'To Plenary Session of the Sacred Congregation, Ioc. cir., p. 3. A Pope for Religious 807 their days, so full of work. Superiors must not be afraid, therefore, of often reminding their confreres that a pause of real worship is more fruitful and rich than any other activity even if intense and of an apostolic characterP3 Every generous service to men draws possibilities and impetus precisely from this prayerP4 Mere human kindness will not be enough. People have to feel that through you someone else is at work. To the extent that you live your total consecration to the Lord, you communi-cate something of him, and, ultimately, it is he for whom the human heart is longing.-~ In this connection it is to be observed how deep are the bonds which link the Holy Father to the contemplative branch of religious life. He hardly gives any talk in which he does not mention its importance for the Church and the world of today. What he tells the sisters in Lisieux holds true for all: Take up the challenge of the modern world and of the world of always, by living more radically than ever the very mystery of your quite original state, which is folly in the eyes of the world and wisdom in the Holy Spirit: exclusive love of the Lord and of all your human brothers in him. Do not seek to justify yourselves! All love, provided it is authentic, pure and disinterested, bears in itself its own justification. To love gratuitously is an inalienable right of the person even--and one should say above all--when the Beloved is God himself. In the footsteps of contemplatives and mystics of all times, continue to bear witness with power and humility to the transcendent dimension of the human person, created in the likeness of God and called to a life of intimacy with him.J6 Demands of the Apostolate The spiritual demands underlying all the apostolates of one who is called to the consecrated life have already been discussed, as has been the symbiosis of prayer and work. The Holy Father tells women religious in Baclaran that this demands, very concretely, ¯. in the taxing routine of your apostolic tasks [that you] always make sure that you devote periods of each day to personal and community prayers. These times of prayer must be carefully guarded and suitably prolonged, and you must not hesitate to supplement them by periods of more intense recollection and prayer, at times especially set aside for this purpose. You must always insure that the mutual center of your communities is the Eucharist: you will accomplish this by your fervent daily participation in the Mass, and by community prayer in an oratory where the eucharistic presence of Christ expresses and realizes what must be the principle mission of every religious family.37 Another directive to ffhich the Holy Father gives voice in forceful language has to do with the quality of apostolic work, especially in regard to its theological, spiritual, human and professional aspects, and always is this to be pursued in brotherly or sisterly solidarity: Help one another, among religious houses, among congregations, to organize times and ~Ibid. ~To Union of Superiors General of Men, Rome, November ~26. 1979. December 24, 1979, p. 5. 3~To Religious. Altrtting, November 18, 1980. December 15, 1980, p. 12. ~'To the Carmelites of Lisieux, Ioc. cir., p. 14. aTBaclaran, February 17, 1981. February 23, 1981, p. 5. 808 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 places of silence and meditation, in order to benefit from sessions of spirituality, theology, and ministry. Encourage one another to take part in them. Contribute by mutual aid to cover the expenses caused by these retreats and sessions. Your love for one another should be clearly seen. Because you are religious today, it is indispensable, even if you are contemplatives, to watch over your human formation, to sufficiently know the life and the problems of people today, especially if you have the mission of proclaiming the Gospel to them. Young people and adults are sensitive to the humanity of those who have "given everything to gain every-thing" to follow Christ.38 "Your professional competence is equally a very important factor and you will have to take it very seriously and keep it up-to-date. Also in this regard a symbiosis is necessary." Thus did the Holy Father speak to the General Chapter of the Hospital Order of St. John of God. "Only a professional, a purely human relation-ship, even with the sick, runs the risk of drying up for lack of roots and deep motivations. But if your work is not filtered through faith, it is always in danger of becoming materialized and of losing even the human elements."39 Only with the help of a deep inner saturation with prayer, faith, and professional competence can the work of religious be transformed into a true apostolate. In this connection the Holy Father makes frequent mention of that particular group of consecrated religious who are of special importance for every apostolate: How could I forget the sick sisters, and those who are infirm and old? Throughout the day and often at night, when sleep is difficult, they present to the Lord the silent offering of their almost uninterrupted prayers, their physical or moral sufferings, their "fiat" to the divine Will. They, too, are the priestly people that Christ won with his blood on the Cross. With him they save the world.4° Therefore all the members of the community should give them special, grate-ful, and loving attention. The Holy Father offers yet another direction for the right understanding of the religious apostolate, one which is important not only for the young Church, but for the entire Church: It is well-known that religious orders have always cultivated the vertical dimension by entering into a life with the Gospel and bearing witness to it through the example of the Gospel reread authentically: that is, on the basis of the Church and in faithfulness to her magisterium. It must be so today also. Witness, yes--protest, no! On every community, on every religious there weighs a particular co-responsibility for the real presence of Christ, meek and humble of heart, in the world of today--of the crucified and risen Christ--Christ among brothers. This is the spirit of evangelical maximalism which is differentiated from any socio-political radicalism.4~ What the Holy Father reminded religious of in Manila has to be the direction for all religious: "Faithfulness to Christ in religious life requires a threefold fidelity: fidelity to the Gospel, fidelity to the Church, fidelity to the particular charism of 38To Religious Women, Kinshasha, Ioc. cir. p. 3. 39Rome, December 13, 1979. January 7, 1980. p. 12. ~°Kinshasha, Ioc. cir. p. 3. '~To Union of Superiors General of Men. Rome, November 24, 1978. December 7. 1978, p. 3. A Pope for Religious ] 809 your institute."4-~ This brings us to one of the most important demands regarding the apostolate of religious communities: collaboration. What is meant here is collaboration on every level: between organizations of major superiors with national conferences of bishops, between religious and ordinaries, between religious and diocesan priests, between religious and the laity. In view of the disruptions which have begun to appear in many places, the Holy Father emphatically and distinctly pointed to the function of uniting and of teaching that pertains to the authority of bishops. He is concerned that religious in their theological teaching and pastoral practice "not only accept but seek loyally an unbreakable unity of aim and action with their bishops. To the bishops the Lord entrusted the mission of feeding the flock. To religious it belongs to blaze the trails for evangelization. It cannot be. it ought not to be. that the bishops should lack responsible and active, yet at the same time, docile and trusting collaboration of the religious, whose charism makes them ever more ready agents at the service of the Gospel. In this matter everybody in the ecclesial community has a duty of avoiding magisteria other than the Church's magisterium, for they are ecclcsially unacceptable and pastorally sterile.43 Nobody knows better than the Holy Father how important, in every regard, is the inner unity of the Church. To his difficult task he brings the experience of a bishopfrom a country under the sway of communism. It is for the well-being of the life of the Church that he appeals to the spiritual capacity of religious to work for unity within the Church. To religious men in the cathedral in Manila he said: As religious you are in a position to make a special contribution to the promotion of the unity of the Church. Your experience of community life, common prayer, and corporate apostolic ¯ service prepares you for this task. May you dedicate yourselves to the great cause of unity with renewed vigor, seeking in a spirit of openness and respect to break down barriers of division and to encourage the progress of harmony and mutual collaboration.4~ Community Life Characteristic of the consecrated life of virginity, poverty and obedience is that it is not vowed and lived outside but inside a community. In his address to superiors general John Paul said: Community life is in fact an important element of religious life. It has been a characteristic of the lives of religious persons from the beginning because spiritual bonds cannot be created. developed and perpetuated unless through daily and prolonged relations. This community life, in evangelical charity, is closely linked with the mystery of the Church which is a mystery of communion and participation, and gives proof of your consecration to Christ. Make every effort that this community life may be facilitated and loved, becoming in this way a precious means of mutual help and personal fulfillment.45 Concretely the Holy Father admonished the superiors general to do everything 4"Lot. cir. p. 6. ~To Bishops of Latin America, Puebla, Ioc. cit,, p. 4. aLoe. cir., p. 7. ~STo Superiors General of Women. Ioc. cir., pp. 8. 12. 810/ Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 "that can contribute to union of minds and hearts. The world is very sensitive to the witness that good or bad religious communities are giving. A sisterly, fervent and authentic life is indispensable in order that women religious may cope, in a lasting way, with the obligations, toil and difficulties that a life of consecration and apostolate entails in the world today."a6 Moreover, the superior has a genuine human and spiritual obligation to take care that every individual feel responsible for building up the community: Acceptance of one's brother, with his qualities and his limitations, the effort to coordinate one's own initiatives with decisions matured together, the self-criticisms imposed by continu-ous confrontation with the evaluations and points of view of others, become not only a very effective training ground of human and Christian virtue but also a precious opportunity for constant verification of the earnestness with which one endeavors to put into practice in one's life the obligations assumed in the religious profession.47 "Charity begins at home!" The "neighbor," in the meaning of the Gospel, is first of all one's co-brother or co-sister. True love for this very concrete neighbor should urge everyone to "be concerned with the well-being of the brother and to put aside one's own advantage." "If a person endeavors day by day to bring into harmony the absolute necessity of silence and modesty with the other absolute necessity of participation in community life, then there grows in him the ability to act as a genuine person who stands in the right relationship with God and with the others." These answers about community which the Holy Father gave to the Benedictines hold true for all other religious communities as well. To make this kind of community life possible requires real authority in the superior. The exercise of authority, in a spirit of service and love for all the sisters, is a vital task, even though a difficult one, which calls for no little courage and dedication. The superior has the duty to help the sisters to realize their vocation more and more perfectly. She cannot shirk this obligation which is certainly an arduous but indispensable one. To carry out this duty calls for constant prayer, reflection, consultation, and also courageous decisions, in awareness of your personal responsibility before God, the Church, and the sisters themselves who expect this service. Weakness. like authoritarianism, are deviations that are equally harmful for the good of souls and the proclamation of the kingdom?~ The Holy Father reads the essence and practice of genuine authority in a very concentrated and fundamental way in what St. Benedict wrote in his Rule about the abbot as spiritual father. It contains such richness that it would be profitable for all superiors, men and women, to study the Rule of him who traditionally is thought to be the Father of monks and of orders, beginning with a personal meditation on John Paul's papal letter marking the fifteen-hundredth birthday of St. Benedict. There is yet another aspect of community life upon which the pope frequently ~lbid. *TTo Religious Brothers of Clerical and Lay Institutes, Rome, January 12, 1980. February 4, 1980, p. 9. '=STo the Union of Superiors General of Women, Ioc. cir., p. 12. A Pope for Religious / 811 touches, and which sheds light on the importance of community life for the Church and for the whole world: Having come to religious life from very different social environments, countries and even continents, you live in communities to bear witness--contrary to nationalistic feelings, preju-dices, sometimes hatred--to the possibility and the reality of this universal brotherhood, to which all people vaguely aspire.49 Communities (the one addressed here directly is that of the White Fathers) have to be and are ¯ . . witnesses that prejudices of race, class, nation and culture can be overcome for the kingdom of God. It is on this basis that you live your consecration to the mission. It is from this basis that you wish to advance along the ways of deep spiritual life, where the values of poverty, chastity and obedience find their whole meaning again, whether you are priests or brothers. The Pope deeply rejoices at this and encourages you from the bottom of his heart. The Church and the world today absolutely need those communities in which sharing and communion are not just words, but realities lived from day to day, with humility and enthusiasm. Is it necessary to add that such concrete expressions of brotherhood will be, in themselves, a call to the young and even adults of all countries, to take their place in your ranks and carry on in the future?~° "Community" should not only be lived within one's own convent and in one's own congregation. There is a very acute demand for cooperation among all orders and religious communities, ¯. whether you are dedicated to contemplation or engaged in the direct tasks of evangeliza-tion, to be on extremely fraternal terms among yourselves and among congregations, and to help one another, better and better, on three planes which seem to me essential: to see your consecration in the right way and carry it out courageously, to be eager to take part in the mission of the Church, to pursue a solid spiritual formation and judicious openness to realities of your age and your environmentP~ Were these, and the other many thoughts sketched by the Holy Father able to shed light into the darkened areas of our hearts, leading us once again into a deep joy over our religious communities, it would be an unequalled contribution to the unity of the Church! Self-ldentity The Holy Father recognizes that the topic of self-identiO, is "hot." This is why the concept, if not the word, so frequently recurs in his talks. Fundamentally, this concept is but a variation of the theme that he often stresses regarding the fidelity which the individual and the congregation should have to the charism of the respective founder. Now he broadens the idea, referring to the consecrated life as "religious," and then referring specifically to the religious man or woman. The urgency of the problem is evidenced by the following statements addressed to religious men in S~o Paulo: 49To Religious Women, Kinshasha, Ioc, cit. p. 2. ~OGeneral Chapter, December 15, 1980. February 2, 1981. p. 12. ~Kinshasha, Ioc. cir. p. 2. 1~12 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 In the pursuit of pastoral collaboration there is a frequent temptation to dilute as much as possible, almost to the point of extinction, that which characterizes and identifies religious life and religious [thcmselves]. It is clear that it is not helpful either for religious life or for collaboration. A religious priest, immersed in the apostolate alongside diocesan priests should show clearly by his attitude that he is a religious. The community should be able to sense it. The same should be said of a religious who is not a priest, or of a sister, in their respective collaboration with lay pcople.~-' The situation described by the Holy Father for women religious in Mexico also often applies to all religious: But there are not lacking, either, examples of confusion with regard to the very essence of consecrated life and one's own charism. Sometimes prayer is abandoned and is replaced by action: the vows are interpreted according to the secularizing mentality which dulls the religious motivation of one's own state; community life is abandoned with a certain irrespon-sibility; socio-political attitudes are adopted as the real aim to pursue, even with well-defined ideological radicalizations. And when the certainties of faith arc sometimes dimmed, motives arc put forward, such as the seeking of new horizons and experiences, perhaps with the pretext of being closer to men, when it may be a question of concrete groups chosen with criteria that are not always evangelical. Beloved sisters, never forget that to maintain a clear concept of the value of your conse-crated life you need a deep vision of faith which is nourished and preserved with prayer. This faith will enable you to overcome all uncertainty with regard to your own identity.5-~ The situation he thus sketches seems to be what lays behind the Holy Father's intense exhortation to religious women in Paris regarding external appearance: "Never be afraid to let your identity as women consecrated to the Lord be clearly recognized. Christians, and those who are not, have the right to know who you are!"54 The Holy Father's concern is not only in regard to an understanding of religious life in general. Even more does he touch upon the problem of identity in regard to the religious man and woman. In regard to religious men, the Holy Father expressed himself in very clear terms on the occasion of the celebration of the Benedictine centenary, when he spoke about spiritual fatherhood in a father-less world. Still more specifically, though only briefly, did he address religious women. The pope picked up and developed the phrase of the superiors general, "Let us first be Christians," coupled with the addition that some made, "Let us first be women," saying that, in his opinion, they are not mutually exclusive. They become one in the mystery which embraces the mission of women in a very special way, placing them directly in its center: the mystery of the Church as Mother and as Bride. This involves a lived surrender. There is. it seems, in a woman's body and heart an extraordinary disposition to make her life a royal offering to Christ as the one Bridegroom. This femininity--often considered by a certain public opinion as sacrificed in a foolish way in religious life--is, as a matter of fact. reformed 5~-Loc. cit. p. 7. 53January 27. 1979. L'Osservatore Romano. February 12, 1979. p. 4. A Pope for Religious and expanded on a higher plane: that of the kingdom of God. For example, physical fecundi-ty, which has such a great place in African tradition, as well as attachment to the family, are values that can be lived by the African sister within a far wider and ever renewed community, and to the benefit of an absolutely astonishing spiritual fecundityPS It should make us wonder why there is a lack of community spirit, of loneli-ness, of unrecognized and unlived womanhood in some religious women when there is such a natural foundation in the very being of woman. It is hard to live the dignity of woman in accordance with God's plan when the natural foundation has hardly been tapped. Those who are concerned with the formation of young reli-gious should keep this in mind. Otherwise it would be impossible to fulfill what the Holy Father rightly expects of religious women: "The witness of a harmonious and mature personality, which is able to establish relations with others without unjusti-fied prejudices or ingenuous imprudence, but with cordial openness and serene balance."56 St. Catherine of Siena is for the Holy Father "a masterpiece of grace, renewing and raising the creature to the perfection of holiness, which is also the full realiza-tion of the fundamental values of humanity," in this case, of being a woman. In her nature as a woman, [Catherine] was generously endowed with imagination, intuition, sensitiveness, willpower and industry, with capability and power of communication, with readiness for giving of herself and for service. She is transfigured, but not impoverished in the light of Christ who calls her to be his bride and to identify herself mystically with him in the depth of "interior knowledge" as well as to commit herself in charitable, social, and even political action, in the midst of the great and the ordinary, the rich and the poor. the learned and the ignorant.$7 What stands out the most, in all apostolates, is always hidden service. This apostolate is usually hidden, near to the human being, and so more suited to a woman's soul. sensitive to her neighbor, and hence called to the task of a sister and mother. It is precisely this vocation which is at the very "heart" of your religious being. As Bishop of Rome I beg you: Be spiritually mothers and sisters for all the people of this Church which Jesus. in his ineffable mercy and grace, has wished to entrust to me. Be this for everyone, without exception, but especially for the sick, the suffering, the abandoned, the children, the young, families in difficult situations . Go out towards them! Do not wait for them to come to you! Look for them yourselves! Love drives us to do so!~ Difficulties, Experimentation, Renewal The pope is a realist. He sees the tremendous interior and exterior difficulties with which the whole Church must contend today: young Christians on the way to making their life-decisions, Christians in religious communities, and especially those who must bear their responsibility as superiors. John Paul II does not try to ~ Loc. cir. p. 7. 55Kinshasha, Ioc. c#., p. 2. 5~At Rome. Ioc. cir., p. 10. STCelebration of the Sixth Centenary of St. Catherine of Siena. St. Peter's Basilica. April 30, 1980. June 23. 1980, p. 7. ~STo Religious Women, Rome, lot'. tit. p. 5. 814 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 minimize the number of difficulties, as, for example, when to religious at Czesto-chowa he spoke of times "when you will have to endure inward or outward suffering or darkness."~9 Difficult to accept also are "the rapid social changes in a country, or the small number and the aging of your°subjects."~0 But the Holy Father is even more radical in addressing the topic of other "difficulties." He searches out roots which quite possibly come not from outside but from within the hearts of those who are called: Why is our testimony sometimes in vain? Because we present Jesus without the whole attrac-tive power of his Person, without revealing the riches of the sublime ideal that following him involves, because we do not always succeed in showing a conviction, expressed in real life, with regard to the stupendous value of our dedication to the great ecclesial cause that we serve.6~ This summation could very likely serve as an examination of conscience for many today. To the International Assembly of Superiors General in Rome the Holy Father mentioned still other kinds of difficulties. Throughout he shows great insight and gives clear directives for resolving them within--or at least making them bearable. The Holy Father ¯ . . wishes to give [religious] encouragement and comfort in the accomplishment of a commitment that is always demanding, often accompanied by the sign of the cross and by painful solitude, and which calls, on the side [of you superiors] for a deep sense of responsibil-ity. a generosity without weakness and confusion, and constant forgetfulness of yourselves. You, in fact, must sustain and guide your sisters in this post-conciliar period, which is certainly rich in new experiences, but also so exposed to errors and deviations, which you try to avoid and correct.62 This is not at all to suggest that John Paul II seeks to block all experimenta-tion. Were this so, he would not have asked the mothers general, in the face of"the wind of interminable researches and experiments: accept all these realities. Take them seriously, never tragically. Seek calmly for gradual, clear and courageous solutions.6~ No step forward in any direction is possible, unless starting from those already taken, but, vice versa, to stop at the latter is a sign of sterile stagnation,u The years of searching, sometimes of uncertainty and unrest have been years of purifica-tion. No~; we should be entering a period of consolidation and of construction.6~ After the years of experience, aimed at updating religious life, according to the spirit of the 59"1"o Women Religious, Jasna Gora, June 5, 1979. July 2. 1979, p. 4. ~'°To Union of Mothers General, Ioc. cit., p. 3. 6~To the Clergy, Religious and Seminarians of Santo Domingo, January 26, 1979. February 5, 1979, p. 10. 62To Union of Superiors General of Women, Ioc. cir., p. 8. 6~To Union of Mothers General, Ioc. cir., p. 3. 6~To Union of Superiors General of Men, Rome, November 26. 1979. December 24, 1979, p. 5. 6~Maynooth, Ioc. cit. p. 5. A Pope for Religious Institute, the time has come to evaluate objectively and humbly the attempts made. in order to rec.ognize their positive elements and any deviations and to answer them accordingly,u' [One should also] apply oneself humbly and courageously, when necessary, to correct, suspend, or direct in a more opportune way the experiments that are being carried out.~'7 Two criteria, among others, seem the most important: The first is that religious life is not truly renewed if the purpose of the renewal is, in practice, the pursuit of what is easiest and most convenient, but only if the purpose is the pursuit of what is most authentic and most consistent with the aims of religious life itself. The second criterion is that religious life is renewed in order to become even more a path of holiness.6~ The overall basis of everything that the Holy Father says to Christians who have embraced religious life, in spite of all difficulties, is joy and hope. "This is a wonderful time to be a priest, to be a religious, to be a missionary for Christ. Rejoice in the Lord always. Rejoice in your vocation."69 With this inner conviction, the Holy Father, as witness of hope, spoke to young people in the world on the World Day of Prayer for Vocations (May 6, 1979): You will meet difficulties. Do you think that 1 do not know about them? I am telling you that love overcomes all difficulties. The true response to every vocation is the work of love. The response to the priestly, religious and'missionary vocation can only spring from a deep love of Christ. He himself offers you this power of love, as a gift that is added to the gift of his call and makes your response possible. Trust in "him who, by the power at work within us, is able to do far more abundantly than all that we wish or think" (Ep 3:20). And, if you can, give your life, with joy and without fear, to him who first gave his for you.7° Orders and the Entire Church Many of the topics fundamental to the theme of this heading have already been discussed. The pope never tries to be too specific in pointing out concrete aspects as they fit into the overall picture. Religious have to be people ,who "love the Church" (S~o Paulo).7~ "Fidelity to Christ is inseparable from fidelity to the Church, especially in religious life" (Washington).n But this cannot remain true merely on the level of words, It must be manifest in concrete life and activity: "[Its] bond of union with the Church must also be shown in the spirit and apostolic endeavors of every religious institute."73 Very concretely, this means that members of the Church, and thus also religious, must follow the direction of the Church--not with gritted teeth and interior distancing, but "with generous and faithful adherence to the true magisterium" (S~o Paulo).74 Basically ~To the Union of Superiors General of Women. Ioc. cir., p. 8. ~'TTo Religious Women. $5o Paulo. Ioc. tit., p. 4. ~'STo Religious Men. S.~o Paulo. Ioc. tit., p. 7. ~Maynooth. Ioc. cir., p. 6. 70pope's Message for XVI World Day of Prayer for Vocations. May 6. 1979. April 30. 1979. pp. 3. 12. 7~To Religious Women. S-~o Paulo. Ioc. cir., p. 4. 72To Religious Women. Washington. Ioc. cir., p. 3. 731bid. 1~16 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec. 1982 this is all one problem: obedience. Obedience to the charism of the founder, obedience within the community, obedience towards those in authority in the Church. This connection goes even deeper: It has often been noted that there is a close connection between the fervor of the religious life of a country and the condition of the Church in that country: fervent religious life means a living and apostolic Church: where that fervor grows cold, the vitality of the local Church is reduced. If. by mischance, tepidity and mediocrity were to set in. they would soon be reflected among the Christian people. On the other hand, throughout the history of the Church, when she has been assailed by crises, it has always been the religious life that has given the signal for a reawakening and a renewed fidelity to the Gospel.75 These words demonstrate again that the pope never points out dangers with-out, at the same time, showing a positive side! In this instance, as in all others, it is necessary to "go back to the very roots of a sound ecclesiology as revealed by Vatican !!."76 The addresses of the Holy Father are not only marked by the spirit of Vatican I1, but also by the very words of the Council. This would be a very easy thing to trace through each of these citations here. but such would be beyond the scope of this paper. Finally, there is no more beautiful document about the inner unity of religious congregations and the Church than the "Pope's Letter to the Superior General of Discalced Carmelites on the Occasion of the Teresian Year.''77 It well merits frequent meditation. Mary Except in Germany (Alt6tting, November 16, 1980), the Holy Father, though he does not build his talks on Mary, does point towards the Mother of the Lord in all of them. This pervasiveness underscores the importance for us not only to acknowledge, but to ponder with renewed fervor and attention in our hearts what the Holy Father says in regard to the significance of Mary for the spiritual life, and espe-cially for religious life. Whoever finds difficulty with this might well let the off-repeated proclamation of the Holy Father become a vital question for his own life: Why is Mary the "model of every spiritual life," as the pope never tires of pointing out (Mexico, Manila, and so forth). Could not Mary become my model again? What does the Holy Father mean when he says that her "fiat" in Nazareth is the "prototype of every religious profession"? (Czestochowa). Why is genuine union with Mary a true "protection for the consecrated life"? (Rome). And do we--each one of us--really need this protection? Why does the Holy Father entrust each "seed of a 74To Religious Women. Ioc. cir. p. 4, 75To Religious Women. Baclaran. Ioc. cir., p. 5. 7~'Homily, World Day for Vocations. May 10, 1981. May 25. 1981. p. 3. 77November 9. 1981, pp. 8-10. A Pope for Religious / 1117 religious vocation to our Lady"?. (Czestochowa). And why do we need her interces-sion in our prayers for vocations? (Rome). And if the mission of a woman is so "deeply interwoven with the mystery of the Church" (Centenary of St. Catherine of Siena) because the Church in her essence is Mother and Bride, would Mary not be at the same time "Mother of the Church" and "the human picture of the Church"?. (General Chapter of Franciscans). Would she not be the key to solve all the present heated discussions in regard to the theme, "Women in the Church"?. Of course, pondering all that the Holy Father has said about religious life and Mary, we cannot stop with asking ourselves questions. Each characteristic descrip-tion of Mary, the Mother of the Lord, as "Model of the Church" (Franciscans, AIt6tting), "Queen of Martyrs" (Nagasaki), "Mother of Monks" (Monte Cassino) and many others, offers unlimited source for meditation. Would it be possible that here the Holy Father also wanted to give a fresh impetus to many religious? It Is Worth It! Whoever truly lives a consecrated life in generous and dynamic fidelity to Christ, to the Church, and to the demands of his calling and mission, serves the goal of which the Holy Father reminded religious women in Washington: The aim of religious life is to render praise and glory to the. Most Holy Trinity and, through your consecration, to help humanity enter into fullness of life in the Father, and in the Son, and. in the Holy Spirit. In all your planning and in all your activities, try also to keep this aim before you. There is no greater service you can give, there is no greater fulfillment you can receive.7s It is worth dedicating oneself to the cause of Christ, who wants valiant and decided hearts: it is worth devoting oneself to man for Christ, in order to bring him to Him, to raise him, to help him on his way to eternity: it is worth making an option for an ideal that will give you. great joys, even if at the same time it demands a good many sacrifices. The Lord does not abandon his followers.~ In this appeal to the diocesan and religious seminarians in Mexico, the Holy Father brought to a distinct focus his urgent concern for the consecrated life and the service of religious. May those who have received the gift of a call to this life and service receive these words into their hearts with courage and joy. Like Pope John Paul 11, may they, in the service of God, be convincing Witnesses of the Lord before men, especially before the young who are in search ofa way of life. It is worth it! 7~To Religious Women. Washington. Ioc. cir. p. 3. 7'~To the Seminarians at Guadalajara. Ioc. cir. p. 4. Thoughts at an Ordination Vera Gallagher, R.G.S. Sister Vera's last article in our pages was "An American Experience of Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity" in the issue of July/August. 1981. Sister resides at 2702 Broadway East; Seattle. WA 98102. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Invoking the Three in One, their majesty, their grandeur, we begin your Ordination Mass, Tony and Ott. And 1 think long thoughts. We pray for you, you called in a particular way as servants of the Most High, and we watch you, you with the youthful vigor and the radiant energy and the vision evernew, and we wonder whether you--or any of us--comprehend that call to servitffde that is yours/ours, and what it may involve. Servants all! All of us, for God has made us. And we live out our lives in contradiction to a culture generally indifferent, occasionally at enmity with all we believe. Today's saints--the Lord's servants--are surprises: -a Secretary General of the United Nations, a mystic: a tiny, wizened woman, a foundress of four religious orders; a street man with a gift of prayer, my friend, even as he kneels among bums in our Skid Road; ¯ that poor wretch in his cell on MacNeil Island (our penitentiary) a friend of God: that family in the suburbs, all His friends. You will meet them all where they are, working in factories, programming computers, pleading at the bar, driving trucks. The Lord who had formed you from the womb calls you to serve them, to inspire, to guide to holiness, to lead. That is your challenge--for "God did not give 818 Thoughts at an Ordination / 1119 ¯. a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control" (2 Tm !:6-7), as goes the reading that you chose. Alleluia, Alleluia.t The vaulted ceiling of our cathedral does indeed ring with the alleluias flung out from hundreds of throats, accentuated by trumpet peal and organ blare and the roll of the drums. Alleluia! For today, yes indeed! But your lives will not be alleluias. You know that. But how deeply have you internalized your knowledge? We are not candi-dates, none of us, for self-fulfillment or realization or attainment. One only comes to know God--and no greater joy has been created than that transcendent knowl-edge- by a process of ascetic self-emptying and self-naughting. Opportunities in plenty you will have! Catholic people have such expectations of their priests that one who hears them knows why Jesus was crucified--and why he would be crucified again. And they are good people, all of them. They mean well. "If I, then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, so you also ought to wash one another's feet" (Jn 13:!4). Servantship can glitter even as it beckons-- your ideal! But the reality is boring, foot-slugging, day-in-and-day-out: the phone, the doorbell, the daily homily, the marriages, the sickbeds, the deaths. Of course the "hiddenness" of sanctity is a theme you will have already explored--a hiddenness seldom found today, perhaps, in the monastic cloister or the hermit's cell, but found often enough in the everydayness, the sterility, the orderliness of middle-class existence. We who are sometimes lost in everydayness as surely as the ancient Fathers lost themselves in the desert are yet the ones who carry about in our pockets the lost coin, the grain of mustard seed, the deed to the acre of land with its as-yet-undiscovered treasure buried there. The Archbishop's sermon on the reading you chose from John I could not hear, since I sat behind his back. But I know that he talked of the cross towards the end. Celibacy may be your greatest cross--oh, not in itself, but in the general hostility expressed towards it. And your celibacy will be attacked, often, and by good people: other priests, nuns, singles, married couples--and by your own rational minds. Because, of course, it makes no sense. None whatever to rational minds. But you have promised it. What you do, Tony and Ott, will make little difference to this world of ours, one way or the other. What you are, though, counts. The saints began life much as you and I: not really bad, not especially good, just mediocre. But they smashed the plaster mold of this world's expectations, and they loved much. They rose above everydayness, yet not in spectacular fashion. Benedict Joseph Labre died a bum. Mat Talbot, a recovering alcoholic. Jacob Lieberman, an epileptic. And the Cur6 of Ars never did get his M. Div.! We have not yet canonized anyone who regularly visited a psychiatrist. But we will. We will indeed. I have digressed from celibacy, meaning only to say that the saints are those caught by a vision which changed their lives, and transformed those around them, because they clung to that vision. Saints are eschatological signs to our poor, 1~20 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 befuddled world--such signs as you are called to be, Tony and Oft. Hol, v. Holy. Holy. You have been called forth and examined and prayed over. You have been consecrated and ordained. And, in the abandonment of our joy, we sing "Holy!" Holy. the Lord God of hosts. To touch and to meet that Holy is the purpose of our lives. The only sadness is not to be a saint. The only failure is not to have tried. But to have found that Holy for only one glimpse, one in a lifetime--what is that? Possibly 1 know less than most. But i shall dare to respond. It is a joy, a tremulous, trembling joy, a joy which comes not from pain, but which transcends pain even as it confounds pain. It is vision, the vision at midnight when, because the darkness is so black, the glimmer of light shines clear, an effervescent, irretrievable light of shifting shape. It is peace, the still silence amidst the raucous clanging of the downtown streets at rush hour. It is fire, the flame which burns but does not consume, and which, in conguming, bears bursting life. And is it worth it? Oh yes, indeed. A million times yes. May the body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve our souls unto life everlasting. Amen. We Are Anointed and Sent Out Through Sacrament of Priesthood We [priests] are all anointed in a special way and we are sent out through the sacrament of the priesthood. Among those whom Christ made and always continues to make "a kingdom of priests" we are priests in a special, sacramental way. All of us have also drawn upon, in a special way, the fulness of the messianic power that was revealed on the "today" of Christ's Holy Thursday. This "today" is our day. It is our feast. We were born along with the Eucharist, and so we were born together with the Church in the room of the Last Supper. In instituting the sacrifice in which the Church is constantly recreated, Christ at the same time consecrated priests, ministers of his sacrifice. He said: ~Do this in remembrance of me" (I Co 11:25). And we do it. We all do it, those of us gathered here and the priests of the entire Church with whom we are united today in a profound, sacramental brotherhood (John Paul II. Mass of Chrism, 8 April." L'Osservatore Romano, 19 April, 1982, p. 6). Advent: Not Ours But God's Daniel McLellan, O.F.M. Father Mcl,ellan is a student in a doctoral program in American history concentrating on American Catholicism. He resides at 317 Brownson: University of Notre Dame: Notre Dame, IN 46556. In a few weeks our time of waiting will be over. But today we are still anticipating. We still await the one who is to come. Patiently we look forward to the promised one who will come upon us from the stillness of the skies. We wait for the one who comes to fulfill our dreams and expectations. He is the one who knows us: the one in whose sight we live. Be it darkness or light, he sees us. "He sees us when we're sleeping / He knows when we're awake / He knows if we've been bad or good / So be good for goodness' sake." Thus began one of the more provocative Advent homilies I've heard. Naturally the congregation thought the homilist was talking about someone else. But that confusion always seems to happen at Advent time--Santa Claus/Jesus; Jesus/ Santa Claus. It's hard to tell the difference! Even though they are venerated in different .~hrines, with different rites; even though the votive offerings to one far outweigh ~hose to the Other, there still remains a great deal of confusion. Both "arrive" on the same day, and the time of preparation is the same. A common sense of waiting, anticipation, further binds the two. And nobody really seems to mind. But there is "something to mind." There is a frightening clash of symbols. Both Jesus and Santa Claus evoke notions of grace and charity, the extension of kindness and generosity. Yet Santa Claus is never enough; we soon outgrow him. Jesus is "too much"; we continue to grapple with him. The task of unclashing the symbols mediated by this season begins in how we perceive Advent. Unless this perception is carefully focused, we will be guilty of abusing the Incarnation, the enfleshment of God, by limiting the consequences of that mystery to seasons and festivals in much the same ways that earned Israel 821 1122 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Yahweh's condemnation and disgust. The fruitfulness of Advent time and its integrity within the totality of our lives depends upon our ability to retrieve the season's meaning within the context of our lives as a people of faith who are invested with a peculiar call. As we make the focus of our Advent more precise we remember that there are many things right with our world. Despite recent setbacks, efforts are continuing to empower more and more people to have a say in the organization and working out of their own lives. Culturally, there is still a wholesome sensitivity to the need to overcome that ethnic imperialism that fails to recognize the relativity of one's socio-cultural value system; socially we continue to find men and women, despite the so-called narcissism of the seventies, looking to one another for a more vital sense of community. While the news is good least of all in the economic sphere, even this dimension reflects a basic willingness to attend to the restructuring of trade and investment for a global economy. In the world of religious there are signs that the old "either/or" dichotomy (Word or Sacrament, nature or grace) that was partitive within and between churches is being replaced with a deeper appreciation of the "both/and" synthesis (Scripture and tradition, freedom and authority). We have taken note of Teilhard's alert that the most profound move-ment is often the most imperceptible. And yet there is more that remains to be done. Apathy and ignorance still overwhelm the political process; cultural sophistication is still judged by narrow criteria; Moynihan's "benign neglect~ has become the strategy of dealing with the other; recession and unemployment continue to erode the self-esteem and incentive of millions. In the world of religion, the call to,community is still too often a disguise for flight into personal irresponsibility. This season of Advent can be an opportunity to meditate on the work of our lives and the vigor with which that work is carried out on behalf of those to whom we, as Christians, have been promised. Jesus reminded us that, upon setting out to accomplish a task, we ought to assess the situation and see whether or not our resources are sufficient. Perhaps we ought to spend a few moments retrieving the meaning of Advent as a resource enabling us more genuinely and effectively to accept God and the power of God in our lives for the sake of the many. What is Advent? Few would disagree that it is considered a time of waiting, a time of preparation. But for whom? For what? ls it Christ? In what sense? The historical Jesus has come and worn our flesh and blood. If we are awaiting that Jesus, our Advent is a contrivance: four weeks of having to psychologically shift gears everytime we light an Advent wreath, because there can be little real excite-ment, wonder, or urgency about an event whose history we have so long manipu-lated. Or perhaps the theme of our waiting is the coming again of that Jesus. But what happens on December 26th? These four weeks of waiting,, metaphor of our lives, are over, and we return to our very real preoccupation .with the present in which few of us give any thought to that final coming. In each case--the anticipa-tion of the birthday, the acknowledgment of the return--there is little of substance to engage our life in a critical way that penetrates into more than these four weeks. Advent: Not Ours But God's / 823 And so before long the other symbol, the other waiting intermingles, and our Advent collapses into a tinsel-and-light festival that has some spiritual overtones, but is centrally and primarily for each of us a commercial salute to the neighborli-ness we share. Now there is nothing wrong with that type of celebration. But it ought to be recognized for what it is. And yet, for all that, it seems to me that the yearly anniversary of Jesus' birth can be meaningfully celebrated in a way that engages the depth of our whole selves. But that can only happen when we make a radical shift in our perception of what Advent time is. The season is a time of waiting and anticipation, but it is not ourselves who wait--it is God. The Eternal One, who again and again has shown himself to be no stranger to history, waits for us to use an anniversary celebration to remind ourselves of that claim which that anniversary makes upon us by virtue of our incorporation into the life of Jesus. Advent is not so much our invention to structure our waiting for Christmas as it is God's invention to keep us ready for the fullness of life non, and forever. When we wait, whether it be for an exam result, a holiday, or the results of a job interview, we know we have expectations. And so it is with God. Advent is filled with God's expectation of us. To understand what God expects of us we look at the way he speaks to us. The Scripture readings for the last week of the liturgical year are taken from either Daniel or Revelation: apocalyptic scripture, scripture for a time of crisis, a time of decision. We begin Advent in a spirit of crisis, of decision. We begin Advent knowing that, One like the Son of Man is coming on the clouds of heaven. He received dominion, glory, and kingship: nations and peoples of every language serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away His kingship shall not be destroyed (Dn 7:13, 14). It is a kingship that presides over a "new heavens and a new earth." ¯ . : the kingship and dominion and majesty of all the kingdoms under the heavens shall be given to the holy people of the most high Whose kingdom shall be everlasting: All dominions shall serve and obey him (Dn 7:27). And the final words, Remember, 1 am coming soon! Happy the man who heeds the prophetic message of this book. (Rv 22:20). When Advent is our waiting time, what is the horizon that sets that waiting in focus? We wait not in promise of something new but in the midst of powers, dominions, and idealogies that too often obscure even the best within ourselves, let alone the potential of one another. The result is a tired and worn world view that 1~24 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 deadens the impact of Christmas. A Santa Claus, tinsel and lights are all needed to invigorate the season. But when the season is a coming face-to-face with a waiting God to whom we must answer, a God whose inbreaking establishes a dominion, a lordship that once for all lays claim on all peoples, that makes a difference. A whole new theme is set. God waits for us to accept and appropriate the new person Jesus whose birth marks the "inbreaking" of God's kingdom, whose source of life is imbedded in the future. It is only the light of what it is that God waits for us to appropriate--the power of his yet-to,be realized kingdom--that Advent time.has (or can have) any appeal. Advent prayer is filled with the promise of men and women who beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks [where] one nation shall not raise the sword against another nor shall they train for war (Mi 4:3). These words are set against the horizon of one whose kingdom shall be ever-lasting. It will be a kingdom in which the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb and the leopard shall lie down with the kid (Is I 1:6). The kingdom promises to be one in which death is destroyed forever and the lofty city is brought down, "trampled underfoot by the needy, by the footsteps of the poor." In this kingdom the deaf shall hear the words of a book and out of gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see. The lowly shall find joy in the Lord and the poor rejoice in the holy one of Israel (Is 29:18,19). If Advent were a time of our waiting, these words would probably have little meaning; they would sketch a way of life bearing little or no resemblance to the world we know--a world in which the majority of us have already mandated our authorities to beat ploughshares into spears: a world that feeds its paranoia on differing ideologies; a world where relief of the suffering becomes fact only if the trickle falls far enough. When Advent is our waiting, the messianic promises mediated through Isaiah and the other sacred writers become scenes sentimental-ized in art or easily set aside as wonderful but ultimately a fancy that is, after all, impractical. And so its "onward Donner and Blitzen"--at least Master Card makes that fantasy graspable. But what if Advent is God's waiting? What if God waits for us to see things as he does? If Advent becomes the vision of what is possible for those who decide in favor of the kingdom of God, who take God at his word that the future~fulfillment of his promise has already begun to unfold in our midst through him whose birth Advent: Not Ours But God's we commemorate, then there is no excuse for disclaiming the reality of Isaiah's vision. We live at a time when the global village becomes smaller and smaller, a contraction that raises the temperature of interpersonal, international, and inter-cultural relations. We know that for all our differences which work themselves out ¯ in a multitude of ways, enormous tensions still threaten life as we know it. The disparity of life-styles between North and South, West and East; the persistent attempts at political hegemony by first and second world powers over vast por-tions of the world; the refusal of the "haves" to invest in the future of the "have nots"; the pursuit of value-free research subscribing only to the agenda of positiv-ism; nationalism based on consumerism--all of these difficulties ground us in the sober reality of the so-called practical. Lest anyone conclude that these macro-issues lack practicality within the con-text of our local experience, a brief look at the consequences of these conditions reveals how much they impinge upon the experience of each of us. Where differences in life-styles are severe, the price of natural resources, eco-nomically and politically, continues to rise as the developing countries which have what we "need"(e.g. tin, oil) demand a greater share in the fruits of these resources. Thus we experience a rise in our consumer prices. The struggle for political hegemony demands more sophisticated weaponry purchased at the cost of endowments to the arts, research grants, and college loans. A refusal to share and to cooperate with the "have nots" leads to the realization of what Kempis saw centuries ago, "A man who is tense and agitated by evil is troubled with all kinds of suspicions; he is never at peace with himself, nor does he permit others to be at peace." The evil of poverty and want breeds a world of suspicion and resentment that undercuts all attempts at peace and cooperation. Researchers whose only standard i's "progress" soon see people and the common good as obstacles to scientific breakthroughs. Knowledge ceases to be responsible or integrated within the totality of the common good. Finally, when who-we-are is based on what-we-consume or on our potential for consumption, we relegate the non-consumer, the poor, to the mai'gin of society. When what you are is what you wear or what you drive, when where you live is a "statement,~ what value is placed upon a "bag lady"? These issues condition the way we hear the promises and discern the contours of God's kingdom. They are such massive and complicated problems that they leave many of us numb. We retreat. We cannot believe that the energy of God's k.ingdom can accomplish the promise of the kingdom in the world we know. And so, as is commonsensical in the face of such a conclusion, we find ourselves caught up in an ethic of accommodation that lets us slowly extricate ourselves politically, socially, religiously, economically and culturally, till our yeast grows old and our salt goes fiat. What is needed at this critical moment is the sense that Advent is a metaphor of our lives, a reminder that our life and work is caught up in that future alluded to in Daniel and Revelation, and sketched out in the words of Isaiah. Advent is the 1126 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 season to recall that God who loves us and calls us now waits for us to lay claim to what he has loved us for and called us to--the completion of his creation. What is needed to fulfill God's waiting is for us to use the tools of faith, hope, and suffering to mediate the energy of God's kingdom, insinuating it first into our individual lives and then, by those lives, into the arena of the public life to which our talents and interests call us. The outcome of this is the vision of the prophets: a world of peace, of greater trust, of sacrificial sharing of resources. Scripture, in the book of Proverbs, reminds us that where there is no vision, the people perish. Magdalen, Zaccheus, Matthew, Paul all lived because Jesus had a vision of what his life could inaugurate. The question for me, for you is: do I give life? Only if we believe, only if we hope, only if we suffer. Whenever we reflect on faith we come to realize that we are. involved in that ~right now/not yet" relationship with the life of Jesus which a gospel describes: "Lord 1 believe, help my unbelief.~' The man who speaks these words is a grief-wracked father who, for too long, has helplessly watched the agonies of his pos-sessed son. The father has come to the point where he sees that the fulfillment of his need is only possible through the exercise of Jesus' power, through the penetra-tion of Jesus' life into the life of his sick boy. The man is convinced of this. He is committed to Jesus--yet he is honest enough to admit the relativity of this moment at the feet of Jesus. This man lays his great love there because he is convinced that Jesus can act on his behalf. He seems sure that Jesus' attention can change things. In front of the crowd of witnesses the man commits himself---"l believe"---to what Jesus can do, to what is possible under the power of God. And his further "help my unbelief," far from being a compromise of that conviction and commitment, is a testimony to the depth of the man's trust. There is no certainty-- there is faith. There is not the solid proof of hard logic--there is faith. Teetering on the edge of the possibility that nothing will happen--that the power of possession will frustrate Jesus--the father makes his confession of faith face-to-face with impracticality, embarrassment, and all the other diminishments that are the real frustrations and enemies of belief. The Scriptures tell us that the enemy was defeated. In a word the father grasps and is grasped by the kingdom of God in both its immediacy and its futurity. Thus faith is the way, in the here and now, that we live in the kingdom of God. For us, then, the question at. hand is the question of faith: Do you believe? Can you lay your life before God convinced that no one, nothing else can bring you worth and happiness--all the while makin~ this act of faith in the face of people, events, ideologies that suggestively contend the impact and relevance of Jesus in a technological age? Do you believe in Jesus? Is he decisive? Is he the way, the truth, the life in a lived way? History teaches us that it is not enough for women and men like ourselves to point to our surroundings, the observables of our environment; it is not enough to call attention to VOWS, to orders, even to baptism as evidence for ourselves, and the world, that we believe in Jesus. The most striking evidence that we are people of faith is the way we answer the question: what is my future? Perhaps we answer that Advent: Not Ours But God's / 1127 our future is to live and die a ,wife, a husband, a religious; to live and die a minister to the needs of the Church; perhaps our future is to execute a teaching, publishing or administrative career--in a word to play out the whole constellation of enter-prises that so many of us do so capably. And yet all this is not the stuff of that faith which is necessary if we would satisfy a waiting God. We can only lay claim to be people of genuine faith and thus, as Christians, lay claim to be honest if we confess that God and the ways of God are our future. In our times it is easy tO forget this God, to become occupied by the many ventures that claim to mediate this God. A quick survey of the last twenty years reveals a galaxy of brilliant theologians, of tremendously gifted church men and women who have crafted provocative theological syntheses, who have opened up the long-forgotten history of the community's liturgical life, who have gleaned helpful insights from the social sciences to be integrated into the processes of spiritual development, And yet in all of this there seems to be so little of God! Why is this? Perhaps the problem is that many of us are uncomfortable and even embar-rassed that God is our future. Even though in conventional discourse "future" connotes a certain open-endedness, we are co-opted by our culture which chafes under the provisional. We, like the biologist or chemist, the politician, the investiga-tive reporter or social worker, want to provide an answer--a helpful finality--to .the critical problems of our day. We want to come up with something that assuages the uncertainty that breeds alienation among the people we love. We cannot bear to admit that in and of our own resources we have not in all our centuries come up with the answer to the problem of sin and evil, to sickness and death, or to the true, the good, the beautiful. We are faced with the hard fact that these solutions belong to God and to his unforeseen future. And so, living out of step with the brokers of solutions, we strive to fall into step, to recover the cadence, and we end up canonizing the means at the expense of the end. What is necessary is to come to terms with the fact that if we confess God, the future becomes quite different. The future becomes, not merely the temporal sphere of unbridled poten-tial, but the fulfillment of a promise that we are no strangers to, the fulfillment of Daniel and Revelation that Isaiah made bold to sketch. To give evidence, to witness to this in a world so often convinced that its own mind and resources are sufficient, is a hard task. For we, too, are mere compassionate persons who are overwhelmed by the desire for an answer, a solution. What our faith needs, then, is hope. A believer's hope is not a hand-wringing anxiety that one's wish will come true. Neither is it dispassionate anticipation. Hope, rather, is the trust one has that the human adventure which in history enfleshes God's kingdom will not fail, that the "radical risk" of human freedom, i.e. the conferral of divinity on us, will not end in the disaster of men and women rejecting what they are. Hope owns the day when what Jesus could not work in Nazareth will be worked here. But this hope only takes shape when a person of conviction believes that in, with, and through Jesus he or she can make "an ultimate and radical and irreversible decision" regarding the future, whether it will be a fulfillment or an everlasting loss. 1~911 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Hope is the virtue by which we take responsibility for God's future. It is not imposed. And it it not simply "my" but "our" future that falls into our hands. Hope is an active consciousness that engages us in the structuring and unfolding of human life because we know that God's future, our destiny, does not oppose the existing structures of the world. We know that God's promise involves a connection between the future and the present. In other words, our unforeseen future emerges out of faith to see political, social, cultural, economic, and religious engagement as necessary cooperation with God. The person of hope is one who recognizes that the efforts of even one person can invest a desperate situation with God's saving power. Our tradition is replete with persons like Francis, Dorothy Day, Frederic Ozanam, and Teresa of Cal-cutta, persons whose faith-action was not dependent on a movement or a commit-tee, but instead generated these support structures. What these Christians show us is that hope enables faith to speak to the world a word about God. But they also show us that the price of a hopeful faith is suffering. We are a people of signs--from "1700" shirts to pottery Communion cups to the environments we create in our homes. Signs reflect what we believe, and they sometimes call us to grasp what we don't yet strongly believe. Thus ifa hope-filled faith is or ought to be characteristic of our lives, then we ought to be lavish with the Sign of the Cross. Those most conscious of how the power of the kingdom of God is exercised in the world are intimates of the Cross--witness Francis of Assisi. St. John tells us that the kingship of Christ is most evident on Calvary. What does this say to us? It reminds us that the work of a faith-filled hope is only accom-plished when oneis broken and poured out. Thus God's waiting is his challenge to renovate society and ourselves. If we would use the political process, or the tech-niques of an increasingly sophisticated communications field: if we would direct social and economic policy and power to rebuilding the world, without first rebuilding our own mind and heart, we build on sand. Personal conversion is the primary suffering that gives the life of the future. Jesus' agony was a moment of decision to accept not his, but the Father's will. The Advent of God's waiting bids us to hear the Baptist's echo of Isaiah: Prepare the way of the Lord. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain shall be leveled. The windings shall be made straight and the rough ways smooth (40:3.4). And if this is done-- all mankind shall see the Salvation of God (40:5). It is no easy thing to reshape the landscape of our lives individually and socially~ Yet that suffering, that conversion is the first point of Advent's agenda. We who challenge autocracy .a.nd oppressive measures in the political sphere Advent: Not Ours But God's / 1t29 should do so only after challenging our pride, our disobedience; we who call for a more just and compassionate distribution of the earth's good should do so only in the midst of a commitment to abandon our personal greed, false need, and con-sumerism; we who call others to community should speak only when we are conscious of our personal efforts to overcome self-centeredness; we who speak about God should only do so while learning to speak with God. The process of conversion is a suffering because it involves a breaking away from what heretofore has sustained us. It is a suffering because it is an action never completed. Thus Francis could speak of his and ours as a life of penance; thus Jesus could bluntly say that salvation depends on doing penance. The Sign of the Cross reminds us that continual discipline and mortification is critical for that personal conversion that sustains systemic conversion. We come upon a further dimension of the cross in our lives when we realize that, like St. Paul, we must be able to say, "if you would imitate Christ, imitate me." We must be a mirror in which persons and societies can look and see a reflection of what they and society ought to be. It is Crucial to proclaim the gospel in a language that men and women understand. That language is our own life-styles and conduct. What we proclaim is not "more of the same"; we proclaim Good News. Thus our life-styles and behavior must be good news. To be good news is to put on Christ, and when one puts on Christ, Jesus says-- They will manhandle and persecute you because of my name You will be brought to give witness on account of it You will be delivered up They will hate you because of me. The consequence of faith-filled hope is marginalization by those who find the good news of God's kingdom a threat to their own kingdoms. These are not evil, malicious people--they are those upon whom Jesus looked with love; they are genuinely threatened by the gospel message and all who attempt to live it. They have trusted, not in God's future, but in their hard-won political base, financial fortune, social success, or theological sophistication. Because these persons are so often life's power brokers and trend setters, we are tempted to seek personal and communal legitimation from them. It is difficult to avoid this temptation. It is a painful thing to hand oneself over to subtle ridicule; to experience the trivialization of one's most significant values. And it is not a pain from which one can legitimately hide. St. Paul tells us to test everything and retain what is good. The experience of Elijah reminds us that God appears in the most unlikely of places. The person of faith and hope must be exposed to the full force of life--yet carefully select the good from the bad. Perseverance requires an inner strength forged by a vivid awareness that God waits for me to mediate his future; forged by an awareness of God's expectations of me. I emphasize the singular me, rather than the plural us because suffering has that quality of loneliness and abandonment that Jesus bore 1~30 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 witness to on the cross. Further, the us only takes shape as individuals are con-fron/ ed by the waiting God who gives us one-to-another to help each other fulfill those expectations. And so we stand in the face of Advent. What shall it be for us? Shall it be four weeks of tension between Santa and Jesus, Jesus and Santa, all coming to a close on December 26th as the too small jackets and the too large gloves go back and the beach wear comes out? Or shall it be a time to rethink God's relationship to me, to us; to remember that our task in life is to complete God's work of creation; to take responsibility for the future in which one, like a Son of Man, comes for an everlasting kingdom. God awaits our faith--that he is our future, that he is the end of human longing. God awaits our hope--that my life is given to make a differ-ence; that despite suffering and death, violence and hate, greed, disobedience--all the diminishments of sin--God's kingdom has, in Jesus to whom Scripture and tradition bear witness, broken into our present. Advent tells us that we are not waiting for God to act. Advent tells us that God has invested us with faith, hope. and suffering and now waits for us to recall each year that Jesus is our future, and we are invested with his power to make God's kingdom even greater. God waits for us to remember that a swaddled infant has, is, and will be a sign that we are not to be dismayed by what appears to be an overwhelming project. Today God waits for us to recall the urgency of doing good, of toking an active role in the issues of our day. And God waits for us to lay claim that what we have most of all to offer to the human adventure is a word of forgiveness, of God's love, of God's encouragement. We live Advent in crisis: God waits. He waits on faith, tie waits on hope, he waits on suffering. Does he, then, wait on us? The Practice of Penance Hence, an updating that would lead to a lessening of penance, that is to say. to a less generous, less joyful, less complete sacrifice of yourselves, would certainly not be in keeping with the Council or with the charism of your Holy Mother. In fact, fidelity to the practice of penance also promotes the exercise of fraternal charity. total detachment and authentic humility which remain the three hinges of the way of perfection (Way IV, 4): at the same time, penance denotes that characteristic and essential element of Carmelite experience which Saint 3ohn of the Cross, intrepid cooperator with Saint Teresa in the reform of your Order. has with masterly skill expressed in the absolute of the todo-nada.--John Paul II. letter to Discah'ed Carmelites on the Fourth Centenary of the Death ~f Saint Teresa, L'Osservatore Romano. 19 Ju~v, 1982, p. 3. Two Knowings Lorna Green Doctor Green has pursued studies in both science and philosophy. For a time she has lived with the Benedictine community in Pecos. At present she may be addressed c]o Knight: St. Lawrence Campus;. 790 N~r6e-Tremblay St.; Ste-Foy; Prov. of Quebec GI V 4K2; Canada. What is most wonderful about our life is that we can know its Author. We, caught in flesh and time and change, can know the unchanging Creator of our-selves and the universe, the great invisible One. We are meant to know God. He wishes us to know, he delights to have us know him. "Eternal life is this: to know you, the only true God, and him whom you have sent, Jesus Christ~ (Jn 17:3). There are two knowings. The first is theoretical, and our age is steeped in it. It is knowledge of the world--of science, history, theology, politics. To acquire such knowledge takes years of study, so we are dependent on experts. Many seek it, but this knowledge does not satisfy the heart. The second knowing concerns us most. It is practical knowledge--knowledge of God. This second knowledge is hidden from the experts, but it is open to ordinary people. How is this knowledge acquired? As de Caussade writes: "It is what happens moment by moment which enlightens us [about God] and gives us that practical knowledge which Jesus Christ himself chose to acquire before begin-ning his publi9 life."~ God can be known by us when, in our ordinary lives, we attend to what transpires in us from moment to moment, from day to day, and over the course of years. God is not afar off, somewhere over the mountain tops, but he is fight here, amongst us. That we may know him, God gives us the day. "The day" is the place where our small lives run together with the great life of God. So let us go forth into the ~Jean-Pierre de Caussade. Abandonment to Divine Providence. Image Books, Doubleday, New York (1973), p. 49. 831 1~2 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 day, and listen. God dwells in our depths and comes to us from inner life. Images, moods, memories welling up into consciousness are sent by him. We live among rivers of poetry and prophecy. Attending to what passes in our interior world is a way to learn much about him who dwells there. God comes to us from outer events as well. Always something feels real, and this is where God is to be found. Friends, gray winter days, music as we pass an open window, meditative afternoons--all can give us an experience of him. Inner and outer events blend in prayer. Ask for love in the morning, you will be deep in the confirmation of others in the afternoon. Confide to him fears and anxieties, and in an hour or so, when you are busy about some household task, they will have vanished. Tell him you need images for your life, and as you sit down to have a cup of coffee, an image from the depths will appear. For that is how close he is to us. Augustine: "Thou art closer to me than my own soul." When we are merged with our situation, the inner life is addressed by what happens around us. People complain that God does not speak, but God is always speaking. He speaks to us through others. Words that are his reveal their author-ship by their appropriateness to our inner condition which he alone could have known. So pray that he will speak his words to you this day, and go forth to listen. Words that are his can come to us from any direction--voices overheard at a street corner, from a child in passing, from a friend in conversation, from a book. The whole world is a medium through which we hear him. Augustine, praying in a garden, heard children singing: "Take and read! 'Take and read!" He interpreted their song as a message to read Scripture. He opened the Bible at random, and what he read there changed his life. For science and for secular culture, the world is inert. In God, the world is alive and magical. It speaks to us with ultimate speech. Each day is thee supreme adventure of finding out what God has to say to us. So let us go forth into the day, to live this adventure. God not only speaks his word to us during the day, he provides us with a thousand places where we may settle into his presence. At the edges of our life-structures are little pockets, little po~stinia of silence and solitude where we can touch him. A moment while doing the ironing, or going through a door, or getting on a bus, and suddenly an insight into our life-situation comes to mind. Then we sense his touch in the peace that is a sign of his presence. Love, life, light, power, peace, beauty, joy--these are the experiences of the day in which God comes to us. We can learn much about God's ways by noticing these. God never works on one plane alone; rather the psychic and the physical merge. Dreams are a privileged way in which the indwelling divinity may instruct us about inward being or show us the spiritual terrain of our lives. If you do not understand a dream in the morning, its i~nterpretation may come somewhere during the day. If a dream reveals the will of God, confirmation will com~ on the Two Knowings ] ~ conscious level. One may ask for two or three confirmations. He willingly indicates his desires for us. The day is the place where he reveals his will. A closed door here, an open door there, peace, these are his signs. Ease of maneuvering, bursts of energy, inspiration, an inward sense of the story being right--all reveal his will. Each event in our lives is sent by God. Therefore, if we would be wholly within his will, we have only to attend to the duties of the present,~moment, and we will be pleasing him. Somewhere in the day, the Spirit will send us a glimpse of who we truly are, for our identity is a great mystery. Then we must nourish that self and seek to bring it alive. That true self sleeps just below the surface of our waking consciousness and is the imago Dei, the beautiful image of God he wishes to realize and reveal in us. There is a self-knowledge which is knowledge of God. Every day will bring its darkness too. But darkness is part of his work of healing and bringing to wholeness. It can be acknowledged, prayed for in the evening. The Spirit never sends us more than we can handle. All we meet are messengers of God. We should respect especially those who cause us pain, for pain is the kiss of Christ. It is a sign that the little child who dwells within has been touched and needs hbaling. That child too can be praye~d for in the evening, in powerful images of the risen Lord holding it and calling it his own. The day is a short plot in the story of our lives where God brings us to identity, to individuation and integration. So days deepen into years, into the long patterns of our lives. God will bring us around to similar situations again and again until we turn to him forhealing. Relationships with men and women recapitulate old relationships width father and mother, and we need to pray for these relationships. The long story is.hisgift to us, the interface where our life runs together with his. This interface places in our lives a vertical order which can be grasped in prayer. Did we know joy, inspiration,,the love of spring rains and of ideas? Through these he draws us into his life-design for us. By what path have we come? What is our place in the mountainous territory of Being? How does God see us? Who is the beautiful imdgo Dei that he wishes to unbury in us? As we see the long patterns of our lives and answer these questions, we learn the way God has"worked with us in the past and will likely w0rk with us in the future. He is a God ~f order and not of capri(e.' God knows all our needs. Our lives, in their smallest details, are put together by him. When we see what our lives a're, see where we are, then we will know God. ! have spoken of God's ways with us. Perhaps it is possible to know something of his vast inner life too. Perhaps insights always welling up in us to dur situations are really his thoughts in us, bringing us to see as he sees. ¯ There are two knowings. The bne we acquire in schools. It i~ the province of experts. The other is acquired in life and is open to everyone. It is knowledge of God. "Father. to you 1 offer praise; for~ what you have hidden from the learned and the clever you have revealed to the merest children" (Mt 11:~5). ReligioUs in Politics David F. O'Connor, S.T. Father O'Connor.is Chairman of the Department of Church Law at The Washington Theological Union. He resides at Holy Trinity Mission Sqminary: 9001 New Hampshire Ave.: Silver Spring. MD 20903. ~n recent years it has not been uncommon for the media to inform the public that a priest or religious has announced that he or she will seek public office as a representative, senator, mayor, or some other such political position. It is .under, standable that questions be raised: Why are they doing this? Is it permissible? Who gives the permission? What does it imply? And so forth. ,~ The author of 2 Timothy (2:4) intimated that one must give one's full and undivided attention to the ministry when he wrote: "Put up with your share of difficulties, like a good soldier of Jesus Christ. In the army, no soldier gets himself mixed up in civilian affairs because he must be at the disposal of his commanding officer." Moreover, the Church has frequentlyexpressed its concern that its clergy and its religious not engage themselves significantly in parallel activities, especially if these activities were considered "foreign" to their ministry. ObvioUsly particular culture, local custom and similar factors have helped in part to determine what activities are considered unsuitable for priests and religious. Too, such unsuitability has also been expres~sed in the exhortations and instru$- tions of popes, bishops an.d councils, as well as in the regulations and laws of the Church. In.f~act, there is a great deal ,of continuity evident in this matter.from the earliest Church councils down to the most modern Church documents. This article intends to give, first of all, a brief historical perspective to the issue of priests and ,r.eligious in politics of public office. After a consideration of the present Code of Canon Law and how it has been interpreted and applied, there is,a, survey of some recent Roman documents and statements of Pope John Paul II which expressly concern themselves with this issue. Next, the article places the matter in the context of the Church's social teaching (which has had a very Religious in Pofitics / 835 significant impact on religious~and priests) and the influence~ of politicafized theol-. ogies on the issue. Then, it treats the Church's teaching on the unique place.of the laity in the Church's mission, and their reaction to the question of clergy and religious assuming roles traditionally reserved to the°laity as a form of the ~social aposto~lat,e of the Church. Finally, the latest draft of the new Code of Canon Law ~ is c6nsider,qd, together with a practical suggestion of my own about how it migh~ be implemented. ~ Historical Background ~ o Jn the early Christian period, the followers of Jesus ayoided publi~c office because such duties often were associated with pagan worship. As a matter of fact, the generally low social stan~ding of Christians in Roman society helped keep them from such positions. However, with the Edict of Milan (313) and the official recognition of Christianity, circumst~nc~is changed quickly and drastically. Chris-tian emperors forbade clerics and monks from accepting spec!fic civil offices, ~nd exempted them from certain public duties. The Theodosian Code prohibited them from being receivers or collectors of taxes, recorders of public or private property, and atto~rn,eys who conduct litigation) The reasons behind such legislation,had to do with the protection of religious~ institutions from injury and with guaranteeing that holy services would not be obstructed. Likewise, early Church councils for-bade clergy from engaging in secular administration.~_u,nder pain of deposition or d~gradation.2 During~the early middle ages, nevertheless, ,many clerics were una~bJe t? ~avoid public office, especially the administration of justice. Bishops were vassals of the king and, because of the high esteem in which the clergy was held and because of the education which they possessed, they were coerced into certain positions. At this time the Church was content simply to avoid evident abuses in such activities. Warrior kings wereoverwhelmed with the task of government and lacked adminis-trative~ personnel. ~The Church,~on the other hand, possessed the personnel who were ~ccustomed to performing ecclesiastical administrative~tasks. Hence clerics became adept 'at substituting for the often.~decadent civil ad.ministrators. The Church's own internal discipline helped keep,it from the universal anarchy,that engulfed society. So, when Charlemagne, for exa .mple,-wanted to reconstitute an administration i.n~his state, he turned to the clergy for help.3 In later centuries, these condiiions.changed and prohibitions concerning such activity again became increasingly frequent in Church life: Pope Alexander~Vll in 1658 forbade the clergy to engage in political matters~ This prohibition was ~The Theodosian Code. translated by Clyde Pharr (Princeton, New Jersey: The Princeton University Press, 1952), XVI, p. 326. -'See C.J. Hefele. History of Christian Councils. translated by Willian~ R. Clarke (2nd ed., 5 vols., Edinburgh, 1883-189,6), I, 460, 489. 490. ~See H. DanieI-Rops, The Church in the Dark Ages, translated by Audrey Butler (New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1959), pp. 262-263., ,~ ~136 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 .rep'eat~l by almost al! subsequent pontiffs. But in 1893 Pope Leo XII1 adopted a somewhat more liberal approach, permitting involvement in political activities in order~t6 'defend the, rights of the Church. At the same time, though, he urged clerics not to neglect their spiritual lives in theii" study of civil and political matters, and to follow the guidance of their own bishops.4 lntereStihgly, in 1884, at the Third Coun'cil'of Baltimore, the bishops of the United States'hb.d ~lready stated their own exception, in N.83. They forbade priests to interfere in political affairs unless it was required to,do.so in defense of morality and sound principles. Finally, in 1906 Pope Plus X gfi~,e permission for clerics in France'to become candidates for'political office with the permission of their own bishopg and of the bishops of the place ffhere they wished to do so.5 This became part of the public law of the Church in i913, and was substantially repeated in the Code of Canon Law'at its promulgation in 1917'. The Code ,of Canon Law (1917) The~present code prohibits the clergy and members of religious institutes and societies of the common life from seeking or accepting public office without an apostolic indult. Canon 139, :2, obliges the clergy. Canon 597 states that religious are bound by this regulation. Cahon 679, I, asserts that members of societies of the common life are subject to the prohibition. Some of the offices which are pro-hibited to these public ministers are, for example, those oflmayors, commissioner.s, judges, sheriffs, attorney-generals, prosecuting attorneys, governors, tax commis-sioners, state superintendents of schools, heads of municipal and state depart-ments, and similar offices. Canon 139, 4, prohibits the clergy (and religious and members of societies) from running for or accepting public legislative offices, such as senator, deputy or represefltative to parliamentary gatherings~ without the permission of the prO)per Ordinary and the Ordinary of the place where the office will be°exercised. This canon contains the only legislation in the Code that~ directly concerns politicai activity, on the part of the Church's public ministers. It seems that when the 1917 Code wa;g!being drafted, the.re was an expression in one of the drafts ttiat would have includ~d~any.involgement in politicis contentionibus (in political con-test~ or deba,tes). However, th.is was considered to be far too broad and was removed in the final draft. It was never intended to ~xclude religious and clergy from political discussions which might be ne~e~;sary to protect and foster the welfare~of, the people and of the. Church.6 °, ~ Religiou~ also ne~d the permission of their own major sti[gerior, even if he_or she is not the proper Ordi~nary (as are the major superiors in exempt or pontifical clerical institutes). Moreover, the Ordinary of the place where the office is to be exercised must a!s0, give his permission. The singular is used in the canon, so it is '~See Codicis luris Canonici Fontes, 9 vols. (Romae, 1923-29), n. 62~). SSee Acta Apostolica~ Sedis (Romae, Vo XXXIX~ 1906); p. 192. ~ 6Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome luris Canon[ci (Romae: H. Dessain, 1925-27), vol. I, n. 233, c. Religious in Politics [ 837 not necessary to have the permission of more than one local Ordinary if the office is exercised over the people of many dioceses. Subsequen~t Practice of the Holy See (1918-1962) A review of Church documents from the promulgation of the Code until Vatican il attests the negative attitude of the Holy See t0~ involvement of the clergy in politics.7 For example, Pope Benedict XV in a letter to Cardinal Csernoch, March 12, 1919, deplored the inordinate political activities of some of the Hungar-ian clergy,~ and in a letter to the Polish bishops, July 16, 1921, he stated that the apostolate of the press should be used to combat error, and that the clergy should avoid undue politic~al activity.9 When the Pontifical C0mmmission for the Official Interpretation of the Code was asked' in 1922 by some~ bishops how they should respond ~to re.cluests by priests wishing to seek legislative positions, the Commission responded that the bishops should be severe and not lenient when .it came to granting such permissions?° Pope Plus XI wrote the bishops of Mexico in 1926, sharing in their protestations about the.persecution of the Church in t.hat country, but he warned them to abstain from political partisanship.'j Also, in a series of responses over the years, the Sacred Congregation" of the Council consistently informed ordinaries of their right and duty to forbid political activity to ecclesias-tics and that, after warnings and failure to amend, the priests could be suitably punished~ In one case, in 1958, the Congregation stated that active participation in politics by ecclesiastics was inappropriate because their work should be entirely directed toward the spiritual good of sou_Is and that the Church has permitted such involvement only in special circumstances and under very definite conditidns by way of exception, though it did not specify what these were.~2 A Survey 0f Some Recent Documents of the Holy Se,e Just,~as canons of the code concerning prohibited activities are expressly appli-cable to both the clergy and religious, so are some recent documents of,the Holy See equally applicable to both the clergy and~religio,us. This is due to the closelink which religious life has with the hierarchical apostolate and the special relationship ~ Which 'binds religious life to the pastoral responsibilities of the Church.3 " ~We will 'briefly consider four of these documents which contain instructions regarding the activities of priests or religiOus,and which give some of tl~e reasons for prohibiting involvement in politics or secular activities. I. Paul VI on "The Ministerial Priesthood" ( 1971 ) The second part of this document contains guidelines for the life and ministry 7See The Canon Law Digest, 8 vols., 1934-1978 (vols, 1 and 2 edited by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J.;" vols. 4-6 edited by Bouscaren and James I. O'Connor, S.J.; vols. 7 and 8 and Supplements edited by O'Connor), hereafter Digest. ~Digest, vol. I. p. 126. ~lbid. ~Olbid. vol. I. p. 127. ~lbid., vol. I. pp. 127-128. ~Digest, vol. 5. pp. 199-200. ~131t [ Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 " of priests.~4 it explicitly treats the inappropriateness of the engagement by priests in certain secular activities and in politics. It states that the priestly ministry, even when compared with other activities, must be considered "as not only a fully 4alid human activity, but even indeed as more excellent than others," although this cannot be appreciated a,nd ~understood except in'the light of the gift of faith.~5 "And so, in the ordinary course of events, full time should-be given to priestly ministry. By no means is participation iff secular activities in which men engage to be considered the principle o.bjective, nor can it suffice to exp}ess the particular responsibility of priests.'!6 The document acknowledges the right of priests to function as ordinary citizens, but ~'~since political options are, of their nature, contingent and absolutely hever adequately and perenially interpret the Gospel, the priest who is a witness to things to come should keep himself removed to a certain degree frorfi eve,)ry kind of p61itical office or involvement.~7 Especially excluded are roles of leadership in--or an active militancy for~a political party, unless in some concrete and extraordinary circumstance this is required for the good of the. community, and the bishop has given his consent. The bishop is advised to consult the priests' i:ouncil and, if necessary, the episcopal conference.~8 2. '!Religious and Human Promotion" (1978) The Sacred Coffgr?gat~ion of Religious and Se~uiar Institutes conducted a study on the S~pecific roli~°of religious in the mission of the Church for the integral promotion of the human person.19 It gave special consideration to the socio-politi-cal involvement of religious. The ~study was completed in 1978 but only published in 198Oin conjunction with a companion document, "The Contemplative Dimen-sion of Religious Life,''z0 It acknowledges the link between the Church's mission, its widespread commitment to the adx~ancement of people and the betterment of :society, and the importani role religious play in this ministry. It notes sympatheti-cally the particular problems and difficulties which have faced religious when they have tried to intervene more decisively in the areas of injustice and oppression,,, their need to express solid.arity with the poor and underprivileged compelling them at times "to become actively involved, sometimes in the working world and in p01ilics."~1 However the document reminds them that "they are:bearers of human" and Christian values which will oblige them to repudiate certain methods of trade union aciion or of political maneuverings which do not respond to the exact demands of justice, which alone is the reason for their involvement?"~2 The, docu-ment expresses concern that certain types of involvement carry with them "the risk of a loss of identity proper to religious life and to the Church's mission . ,'z3 '~JSee Digest, Supplement through 1980. canon 592. (1981). p. 13. ~See Digest, vol. 7 (1974). pp. 352-365. ~lbid., p, 355. Wbid ~71bid. p. 356. ~See Di~est, Supplement through 1980. canon 592 (1981). pp. 1-32. ~°lbid. canon 593 (1981). pp. 1-21. "-qbid., canon 592. p. 6. ' "-'-Ibid., p. 16. ~lbid., pp. 356.357. "-31bid. Religious in Politics There~fore, religious are warned not to let themselves become directly involved in politics, and should "not be deluded into thinking that they will have greater influence on the development of persons~and peoples by substituting a political involvement, in the strict sense, for their own tasks."~4 They "should stand apart from certain political options, being seen not as men and women who take sides, but as agents of peace and fraternal solidarity."~5 Unlike the laity and lay members of secular institutes, religious have committed themselves to obedience t9 the common purpose of the religious c.ommunity and to their own religious superiors. Therefo, re, states the document, the presence of religious shot~ld "alw.ays be as consecrated persons who,seek the full conversion of people and society to the ways ¯ of the Gospel through witness and service."~6 3. "The Prophetic Role of Religious in the Promotion of Human Progress" This document appears in the English edition of lnformationes, the official publication of the SCRS1.27 It is obviously linked to the previous document of the SCRS1, "Religious and Human Promotion." It is concerned that religious not underrate their prophetic role and contribution in the Church. They should safe-guard the primacy of the charism of their own institutes in their activities and must not give way "to the trappings of some political ideology, nor take on activities or ways of ~cting proper to other vo6atiods, for example, of lay people or of secular institutes."~8 The document exhorts religio~s to be faithful to their own vocation and way of life which w.ill not permit them to be "of a party." It states that a true ' Christian prophet cannot canonize any political system and will be aware Of the ~njust~ce inherent in every;system because of human weakness. It explicitly dis-courages any direct ihvolvement with political movements and expects that reli-gious will be prophetic by standing apart and by being critically aware of the limitations of all such movements.29 4. "InStruCtion o.f the Sacred Congregation of the Council on Associations of th~ Clergy (March 8, 1982) ~ Although directed at priests' organizations in'Hhng~iry, Yugoslavia and Czech-oslovakia, this documefit is 0f'interest because it ekpresses the Holy See's consist-ent understanding of the priesthood as a life of service and minist,ry that is to be conducted in close communion with the bishop, and it condemns any organization that would impede that communion, harm the identity of priests, or restrict their service to people.3° There is no room for associations of priests or deacons which have a political purpose(~Priests must never put themselves at the service of any ideological or human factor because they are "heralds of the Gospel and shepherds of the Church, and must devote themselves to the spiritual growth of the body of "-~lbid. p. 17. ~-5lbid. "-~lbid., p. 29. -~TSee Consecrated 14"fe, vol. 4. n. 2 (1980), pp:, 416-429. ~lbid. p. 428. "-~lbid. ~0See CRUX ~fthe News. vol. 2, March 22, 1982, pp. 4-5. 1~40 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Christ.''-~ Even if ihey are presented as supporting humanitarian ideals, peace and social progress, associations of priests which pursue aims related "to politics cause division and discord wi!hin the people" of God, both among the faithful, among the priests themseives, and between the pri(sts and their bishops. They "undoubtedly place in the shadow the priestly mission and infringe on ecclesial communion . ,,3.2 The Statements of Pope ,John Paul I! The pope believes, in harmony with the Vatican 11 teaching, that temporal and seCular matters are properly within the competence of the laity. In his address to religious men in $5o Paulo on July 3, 1980 he said: 1 would like to point out the origihality of the presence of religious in the world. Already on other occasions this point has been presented as follows: there are two f~rms of presence in the world, one physical, direct, material--the other, invisible and spirit~Jal.' but no less real. Lay men and women, due to the fact that they affirm their vocation of physical presence in the world, need that strong support that comes precisely from the spiritual presence of religious. They would feel the lack of it if. through the euphoria of"immersion in thc world." religious ended up by denying'the Church the contribution of what is specifically theirs. For theirs is not a call to alienation: on the contrary, it is an invit,~tion to think that in the Church. according to the concept of St. Paul. the clear difference (and not confusion) and the valid complementarity (and not isolation) of charisms and vocations, continues to be important. The presence of religious in temporal struggles will never bc fruitful in the long run (but will it even be useful immediately?), if it takes plac9 at the cost of the essential values--even tl~e most humble--of religiou~ life.~3 The pope has insisted on the different roles of the priest, the re!!gi.ous and the layman q~ woman in,the political arena. Religious and priests are to be aware of their own yocation to preach God's word. ~While this certainly includes a concern for justice, the priest and the religious are to be seen as agents of reconciliation, not division. Their primary role as servants of God and of his Church does not permit them nor.rnally to be directly involved in partisan politics where divisions are inevitable. The priest and the religious are called to inspire, motivate, educate and exhort. The task of renewing the temporal and secular order is the responsibility of the laity. The Christian vocation to public ministry and ser, vic~e in the name of the Church belongs to,.the priest and the religious. This form of Christian life is distinct from, but complemented by, other Christian vocations. Therefore, in his February 17, 1981 address to religious men in Manila, John Paul stated: At the same time I ask you to observe this guideline: that each apostolic endeavor should be in harmony with the teachings of the church, with the apostolic purpose of your individual institutes. May I also remind you ~f my words at Guadalupe: "You arc priests and religious: you are not social or political figures or officials of a temporal power., let us not be under th~ illusion that we are serving the Gospel if we "dilute" our charism through an exaggerated interest in the wide field of temporal problems.",lt is important for people to see you as .~lbid. p. 4. ~'-Ibid. 33See John Paul II Speaks to Religious 1978-1980, edited by Jean Beyer. S.J., (Chicago: I,ittle.Sisters of the Poor, 1982). p, 245. Religious in Politics / ~141 "servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God."3~ While the pope does not confuse politics with religion, he courageously has condemned the violation of human rights, the lack of religious freedom where it occurs, consumerism, self-indulgence, unconcern for the poor, bias, and moral chaos. While he argues for personal and religious values, he opposes moral laxity and totalitarianism. Likewise, while he tells politicians tha~ they ought to aid the poor and ban weapons, he clearly asks priests and religious to stay out of politics.35 Social Justice, Public Office and Politics Invariably, since Vatican 11 (1926-1965). Catholic religious and clergy who are in politics or public office have cited the Church's social teaching as the basis for their activities. For example, one woman religious, a state senator, stated: "Though I may not be able to use gospel language when ! denounce sinful and oppressive structures on the House floor or in.committee meetings . . . 1 am nonetheless making the Church's teaching present and striving for the reconcilia-tion it seeks to promote by reordering relationships and structures?'36 Social justice has been a concern of the Church, especially from the pontificate of Leo Xlll~to that of John Paul 11. Since Vatican !1, the Church has been seeking to define its life also in terms of its impact on human development,. Gaudium et spes helped the Church come to the conviction that there cfin be no explanation of what the Church is apart from its impact on the social, political and economic life of society: Indeed, at the Third Roman Synod of Bishops (1971), the pursuit of justice in the world was perceived as an integral element in the life of the Church. However when Paul VI addressed the Fourth Roman Synod of Bishops (1974) on the ,subject of evangelization, he warned that the message of salvation which the Church preaches cannot be reduced "to mere sociological or political activity., to a man-centered and temporal message . " but quickly added, "there is no separation or opposition [between evangelization and human development], but a complementary relationship . -37 While the bishops accepted this integral rela-tionship between evangelization and~human development, their concern was on the emphasis-being given the latter in developing countries and the tendency to eliminate the distinction ,between evangelization, and development. Again, in 1975 when the Pontifical Commission on Justice and ~Peace issued its document on "The Church and Human Rights," it reasserted that the Church must have a liberating impact on society, but stated that it does not enjoy any special compe-tence in the political or economic areas, nor was its mission of salvation to be reduced to those areas of life and temporality. 34See Address of John Paul. 11. February 17. 1981, Osservatore Romano English Edition. p. 6. 35James V. Schall, S.J., "The Changing Catholic Scene," in Christianity and Politics. edited by Carol Friendly Griffith (Washington. D.C.: Ethics and Public Policy Center, 1981). p. 38. ¯ a~Jim Castelli. "Priests, Nuns, Ministers in Politics," Commonweal. 24 June. 1977, p. 400. 377he Pope Speaks. 19 (1975), pp. 189-190. 842 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Unfortunately, when clergy Or religious have spoken out on behalf of justice and basic human rights, as they are obliged to do at times, they have been accused of "meddling in politics." Furthermore, in systems of political oppression the corporal works of mercy are themselves perceived as political acts pure and simple when political oppression is the cause of such poverty. As a consequence, religious and priests have b~en persecuted, even murdered for their performance. Therefore, "politics" can mean different things to different people. When bishops have taken a public stand against abortion,,this is considered to be a political act more than a moral stand by a segment of the populace. What is to be thought, then, when the bishops lobby in Congress in pursuit of Church interests and the broader goals of peace, justice and equality? The history of the Church manifests the extraordinary dangers that beset it if it becomes