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Issue 1.2 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1942 S,~f. Joseph's Titles to Honor ¯ . .Aloysius C. Kemper The Scapular Devotion. : . William A. Donaghy Perfection and +he Religious . Augustine Kl~as LeoJ on the Incarnation . Cyril Vollert Profession of a Dying No,~ice . Adam C. Ellis The S+udy of +he Decalogue ¯ .- . Gerald Kelly Some Recommended Spiritual Books Book Reviews (~ues÷ions Answered Decisions of the Holy See VOLUME I "" "~-':. NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ VOLUME' I MARCH 15, 1942 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS SAINT JOSEPH'S TITLES TO RELIGIOUS HONOR Aloysius C. Kemper, S:J . 74 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION AND THE SABBATINE PRIVILEGE William A. PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS--Augustine Klaas, S.J. 9.4 ANNOUNCEMENT --'The Editors . ¯ . SOME RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS . 105 THE DOCTRINAL LETTER OF LEO I ON THE INCARNATION Cyril Vollert, S.J . 112 PROFESSION OF A NOVICE IN DANGER OF DEATH Adam C. Ellis, S.J . ¯ . 117 PAMPHLET REVIEWS . 122 RELIGIOUS AND. THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE Gerald Kelly, S,J . 123 BOOKS RECEIVED . ' 135 BOOK REVIEWS PROGRESS IN DIVINE UNION. By the Reverend Raoul Plus, S.J. 136 COLORED CATHOLICS IN THE UNITED STATES By the Reverend John T. Gillard. S.SIJ. 136 ONE INCH OF SPLENDOR. By Sister Rosalia of Maryknoll . 137- LITURGICAL WORSHIP. By the Reverend J. A. Jungmann, S.J. 138 MARYKNOLL MISSION LETTERS ~ . , . . 140 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 7,. Communion on Holy Thursday . 1,41 8. Obligation of Sponsor in Baptism or Confirmation . 141 9. Separation of Novices and Postulants at Recreation . 142 10. Superior's Right to Read.Mail of Subjects . . . 142 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 143 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1942. Vol. I. No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at The College Pre~s, 606 Harrison Street, Tope~ka~ Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Application for second class entry pending. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1942, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S'. A. Saint: Joseph's Titles t:o Religious Honor Aloysius C. Kemper, S.J. THERE is no need at the present day to undertake a § vindication of the honor paid to St. 'joseph, foster-father of our Lord and most chaste spouse of Mary. Devotion to. him has taken so firm a hold on the popular mind, and his cult hag been so repeatedly and unstintingly approved by the Church, that St. ,Joseph stands next to Mary as the Saint °most highly esteemed and honored in the celestial hierar~chy. It is perhaps no vain hope to look for a marked increase in devotion to him and in a more insistent, confident appeal to his mighty intercession in the stress of the actual national and international crisis. St. ,Joseph ~was indeed from time immemorial regarded as eminently a social patron by various groups and religious families, in view of his headship of that singular holy group, the Family of Nazareth.- In 1621 the General Chapter of the Carmelites chose him officially as patron of the whole Reformed Order. Soon after began to appear for the first time the title of Patronage of St. 'jose~ph under which the holy Patriarch was'honored by numerous orders, religious bOdies, kingdoms and states both in the old and new world. It was not until 1847, however, that Plus IX extended the feast of the Patronage to the universal Church. From that papal grant the devotion received a new, vivifying impulse that resulted in a truly phenomenal growth. It was again Pius IX who, during a particularly calamitous period of his pontificate, bethought himself of a new title which had not until then been bestowed on any angel or saint. 'On the feast of the Immaculate Conception, in 1870, the " 74 ST. J,OSEPH'S~ TITLES TO HONOR Holy Father declared St. Joseph Patron of the Universal Church, the proximate motive for this elevatioff, being that "at this most sorrowful time the Church herself is beset by enemies on every side,, and oppressed by grievous cidamities, so that .wicked men imagine that at last the gates of hell are prevailing against her." The immediate occasion, then, for the new title was the urgent crisis of the Church at the moment. But in the same decree a more general motive for the papal action is al!eged: '"On account of this sublime dignity (of foster-father of Jesus) which God conferred on His most faithful servant, the Church has always most highly honored and lauded the most Blessed Joseph next after his Spouse, the Virgin Mother of God, and. has implored his intercession in all her great necessities." No one can fail to detect in this pontifical utterance a very sig-nificant placing of St. Joseph as one to be honored next to Mary. Nearly twenty years later, on August 15, 1889, Leo XIII issued a warmly enthusiastic encyclical letter1 -on devotion to St. Joseph. It is worthy of note that he ~hose another principal feast of Mary for this pronouncement. In it, in a more explicit manner, he placed Joseph after Mary . in the hierarchyof the Blessed, insisting "that the Christiafl people should grow accustomed to implore with an especial piety and confidence, together with the Virgin Mother of God, also her rnos~ chaste spouse, the Blessed Joseph." After recognizing that the cult of St. Joseph had advanced notably since the declaration of the Universal Patronage, Leo XIII wished to add his own authority in moving Chris-tian piety to new endeavors. He not only vindicated to St. Joseph his proper place in the devotion of the faithful next to the Virgin Mary, but for this he assigned two out- 1Quaraquarn pluries. Cf. The Ecclesiastical Review, Vol. 1, P. 362. 75 AI~OYSIUS C. KEMPI~R standing reasons, whicl~ he first briefly Stated, then feelingly expounded: "Jos.eph was the husband of Mary and the reputed father of Jesus Christ. From these two prerogatives derive all his dignity, grace, sanctity, and glory. Undoubtedly the dignity of the Mother of God is so sublime that nothing can excel it. Yet because between ,Joseph and the Blessed Virgin there existed the bond of matrimony, there can be no doubt that he approached more closely than any One else to that most lofty dignity by which the Mother of God sofar surpassed all other creatures . . . Again" he alone stands forth amongst all men by the singular dignity of having been divinely chosen to be the guardian of the Son of God, and considered by men to be His father." Here, then, is officially stated the basis of all solid devo-tion to St. Joseph, namely, his eminent dignity which sur-passes that of all the saints excepting only the Blessed Mother of the Redeemer. This dignity moreover is due to Joseph's position in the Holy Family of which he is the divinely appointed head and guardian, as husband of Mary and foster-father of Jesus. The marital and parental func-tions which he thus exercised in that l~lessed Family impli-cate him as closely as may be in the carrying into execution of the mystery of the Incarnation of the Son of God. "When the fulness of~ time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the Law, that he might redeem those who were under the Law, that we might receive the adop-tion of sons" (Galatians 4:4). In tha~ tremendous drama 3oseph had more than an accessory par~ to play. His coop-eration was essential. He was appointed to live and labor within the inner circle of the Incarnation, and his whole activity was displayed in the secret unfolding of this mystery. 76 ST. JOSEPH'S TITLES TO HONOR Joseph's actual presence and operation .within the circle of the Incarnation is vouched for by the simple gospel nar-rative familiar to every child. Je,sus, Mary, andJoseph are there always found together, the latter as husband of Mary and father of Jesus. In the genealogy according to St. Mat- . thew (1: 16) we read, "And Jacob begot Joseph the hus-band of Mary." Again (1:18) "When Mary his Mother was betrothed to Joseph"; ( 1 : 19) "But Joseph her husband being a just man. "; (1:20) "Do not be afraid' Joseph ¯. to take to thee Mary thy u2ife"; (1:24) "So Joseph. to0k.unto him his u2ife.'" The relation of husband and wife between Mary and Joseph is thus plainly asserted in St. Matthew. Both Matthew and Luke frequently place the three holy persons inimmediate j.uxta-position. Thus, (Matthew 2:13) "An angel of the Lord appeared in a dream to Joseph, saying, 'Arise, and take the child and his mother, and flee into.Egypt'." Four times in the brief nar-rative of the flight into Egypt are the three names thus brought together. St.Luke (2-:16) tells us of the shep-herds that "they found Mary and Joseph and the babe lying in the manger." This Evangelist is particularly intent on calling attention to a true parental relationship that bound .Joseph .to the divine Child. Thus (2:27) "And when his parents brought in the child Jesus" (at the Purification); (2:33) "And his father and mother were marvelling at the things spoken concerning him"; (2:41) "His parents were wont to go every year to J.erusalem"; (2:48) "Behold thy father and I have been seeking thee. sorrowing." These latter words, spoken under stress of strong emotion, quite unconsciously reproduce the manner of address current in the holy house at Nazareth. The character of the mutual relations within the Holy Family is thus clearly established in the gospel; Joseph is the bus- 77 ALOY$1US C. KEMPER band of Mary and in a true sense the father of Jesus. The point that should be emphasized on reading this narrative is, that Joseph is not an extrinsic companion to a closely united pair, nor a mere accessory, interested specta-tor, or helper, but is an integral and essential member of this sacred trio. This is a truth that seems often not to have been fully recognized even by those bent on showing Joseph ~his due honor. In the popular mind particularly,due per-haps inpart to catechetical instruction that was calculated to.be both safe and adequate, St. Joseph is the victim of a minimizing p~ocess that deprives him of his full dignity. Frequently the negative statement is stressed that as man 3esus had no father, and that consequently all genuine paternity should be denied his appointed guardian; or that Joseph was merely reputed to be the father by men who mistakenly looked upon Jesus as the carpenter's Son, Jesus not being his Son at all. Similarly it is often thought that ~Joseph was not the real husband of Mary, but only a faith, ful protector, serving as a safeguard to Mary's undoubted ¯ genuine motherhood in. the public eye, a consort-in name but not in reality. Besides, Mary's ~rirginity, sealed by vow, might seem to preclude the possibility of a true mar- ¯ .riage contract that would mak~ the two strictly man and wife. As a result of this endeavor to shield the exclusive divine sonship of the Child, and the virginal conception of the Mother, Joseph's full dignity is sacrificed; and he is denied the glory of the very position whence "derives all his dignity, grace, sanctity and glory," as we heard Leo XIII claim. Joseph is thus reduced almost to the status of an honorary member of the Holy Family and counts for little in the scheme of the Incarnation, Indeed, what appear to us unworthy travesties of the true glory of St. Joseph were 78 ST. JOSEPH'S TITLES TO HONOR seriously maintained and defended by more than one Cath-olic author even during the pontificate Of Leo XIII. How false such a rating of the position of the great Patrihrch would be becomes at once evident if we briefly examine the reasons that underlie the succinct gospel state-ments above enumerated. First of all, the Blessed Virgin contracted a true and proper marriage with Joseph, and this is a truth of faith according to all theologians. There was, therefore, no true sense in which it might .have been said of Mary that she was the reputed wife of Joseph. In the case of both, virginity and marriage were most perfectly con-joined, so that, as LeoXIII strongly urges, bothoare at the same time perfect exemplars of virgins and spouses. The teaching of the Church, confirmed by the Council of Trent, supposes that a true and perfect marriage bond subsists, even ihough the parties do not consummate their union. Such a marriage bond, with all its consequent .rights and duties, existed between the virgin Joseph and the Virgin Mary. They were mutually possessors and guardians of each other's spotless virginity. In the second place, it must ever be borne in mind that Joseph was the father of Jesus in a very real sense. The express statement of the gospel to this effect is not-to ~be qualified by reducing this relationship to a paternity that was only apparent. It was indeed a paternity entirely unique in kind, but most true in every, sense except the one which would make Jesus the Son of Joseph by natural gen-eration. This latter relation Scripture itself is careful to exclude; and it is with reference to this wholly natural paternity that Joseph is asserted to have been merely the reputed father of the Child. Jesus was not the carpenter's Son in the only way the people probably suspected. But He was the virginal, fruit of Mary's womb which could 79 ALOYSIUS C. KEMPER never becomingly and above suspicion have been brought into the world except within the chaste union and intimacy of two virginal spouses. It was entirely necessary for the blessed consort to shield in public esteem the fruitful vir-ginity of his true spouse: and even in this restiicted sense his paternity was no empty name. In what other sense it was real and w~olly admirable will be presently shown. Another consideration to be carefully weighed is this. In the divine plan the whole mystery of God becoming man was to remain profoundly hidden until such time as the reality of this divine prodigy of love could profitably be made public. 3esus Himseff only very gradually and with consummate prudence revealed His divine filiation during His public ministry; and its full import, inclusive of the virgin birth, was scarcely even surmised during Christ's earthly lifetime except by a favored few. Before it became finally known, 3oseph had already departed~this life, when his office of duly obscuring and shielding both the divine Son and the Virgin Mother bad been brought to a close. But this function of obscuring for a time both the Son and the Mother, necessary though it was for the proper execution of the divine decree, was neither the only one nor the most important one to give reality and splendor to the paternity of 3oseph. Suarez2 tersely says: "The Blessed 3oseph not only bore the name of father, but also the sub- Stance and reality which belongs to this name, in as far as it can be participated by any man, carnal_ generation alone excepted. He possessed accordingly a father's affection, solicitude, and even authority." He was fully and admi-rably a father to 3esus in providing Him a true home with all its unspeakable, charming intimacy, with early educa-tion, protection against danger, sustenance earned in the ZDe M~Isteriis Vitae Cbristif'Q. 29, Disp. 8, Sect. 1, n. 4. 80 ST. JOSI~PH'S TITLES TO HONOR sweat of his brow, and all of these exercised in a most per-fect and holy way, towards a Son truly his, as no father either before or after him, In addition to this intimacy Leo XIII, in the encyclical already referred to, thus expresses the reality of Joseph's fatherly office: "Accordingly, from this double dignity (as husband of Mary and father of Jesus) there followed spon-taneously the duties which nature prescribes for fathers of families, so that Joseph was the legitimate and natural guardian, curator, and defender of the divine house over which' he presided. These offices and duties he zealously exercised until the end of his lifel He strove to protect his spouse and the divine Child with supreme love and daily assiduity. He provided by his labor whatever was neces-sary in diet and maintenance for both. He was ever the unfailing companion, helper and consoler of the Virgin and Jesus." These are titles to a singularly sublime father-hood that is ill served by heaping about it the familiai denaturing negatives: "as man, Jesus had no earthly father; Joseph was only/ the foster-father, the reputed father of Jesus, not His real father in any sense." Such, then, are the titles on which isbased the dignity of St. Joseph: he is the true husband of Mary, a real father of Jesus, and an intimate, necessary cooperator in the strategic~ us.hdring into the world of the Incarnate Word. We haye. already heard two popes conclude frbm this unique and exalted position of Joseph that in dignity he excelled all the saints except bnly Mary Immaculate. It is true the Imitation (Book III, 58, n. 2) cautions us not to compa.re the saints one with another or to dispute their relative graces and merits. But for the Virgin and St. Joseph the comparative method alone does justice to the father and mother of Jesus, and most of the Fathers and ecclesiastical ALOYSIUS C. KEMPER writers have resorted to it in their case. Mary's incompa-rable excellence amongst the saints as the Mother of God entitles.her to a special worship reserved exclusively to her which, theologians style h~/perdatia. Since St. 2oseph is now by common consent ranked next to her as belonging to the hypostatic order, as we have seen, attempts hace been made to secure for him also a singular worship to be styled protoclalia, that is, the highest honor paid to any saint after Mary. The Church has not yet yielded to these entreaties, as she has also thus far refused to admit his name into the Cor~iiteor and the Canon of the Mass. On the other hand she has not shown herself averse to the claim now every-where urged that ~loseph is after Mary the greatest of the saints. Rival claims might be made in the case of St. ,lohn the Baptist and the Apostles, and these claims have been care-fully weighed by theologians. Of the Baptist our Lord Himself declared, "Amen I say to you, among those born of women there has ndt risen a greater than ,lohn the Bap-tist" (Matthew 11: 11). Yet our Lord could not have meant tl~is in an absolute sense, for He immediately adds, "Yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he." Relatively to all the patriarchs and prophets of the Old Law the Precursor of the Lamb of God must be placed at the head of them all. It is revealed that he was cleansed from original sin before his birth, but even this extraordinary privilege leaves him still outside the exalted circle of the Holy Family and the immediate actors in the execution of the Incarnation. The question of the superiority of the Apostles in dig-nity over all the other saints except the Mother of God has been reverently asked through the centuries, and conflicting answers have been given. St. Anselm amongst others 82 ST. JOSEPH'S TITLES TO HONOR declares: "Even the Baptist was inferior to'the Apostles in dignity for there is no ministry greater than the aposto-late." St. Thomas seems to favor this view. Suarez~ how-ever; ventures it as a probable opinion that the ministry of St. 3osepb was of a higher order than that of the Apostles for the reason that the latter pertained to the simple order of grace, while Joseph was immediately associated with the Author of grace within the order of the hypostatic union. Hence this theologian modestly concludes, "it is not temer-arious or improbable, but on the contrary a pious and very likely opinion thatSt. 3oseph excelled all other saints in grace and beatitude." The view of St. Thomas he explains by remarking that the Angelic Doctor regarded the aposto-late as the highest ministry in the New Testament; whereas the office of the foster-father of Jesusbelonged properly neither to the 01d nor to the New Testament, but to the Author of both who as the "cornerstone joined them into one." This probable and still too conservative opinion of Suarez, however, has long ago yielded to the unquestioned belief voiced by Leo XIII when he unhesitatingly declares: "There can be no doubt that he (Joseph) approached more closely than any one else .to that most lofty dignity by which the Mother of God so far excelled all other creatures. " We have thus considered the sublime dignity attaching to the double office of Joseph as father of JeSus and spouse of Mary. From this dignity may at once be deduced the eminent gifts of grace with which he was endowed and the incomparable sanctity he attained. It is a theological axiom that God duly apportions grace according to the state and office to Which He calls a soul. Joseph's correspondence with this grace was so perfect that Scripture is content to style him, even before his union with Mary, simply "a just BLoc. tit. sect. 1, n. 10; sect. 2, n. 6. ALOYSIUS C. KEMPER man." How he must have advanced to unspeakable per-fection of sanctity through all the years of daily contem-plation and intimate association with the holy and Immacu-late Virgin, his spouse, and the Holy of Holies, the Incar-nate Son of God! Truly, the life of heaven on earth! A second corollary is deduced by Leo XIII from Joseph's position in the Holy Family. "The divine house," says the.Pontiff, "which Joseph ruled by. fatherly author-ity contained the beginnings of the nascent Church." As a consequence "the blessed Patriarch considers the innu-merable multitudes of Christians that compose the family of the universal Church as entrusted to him in a .special way, and that in it, as the husband of Mary and the father of Jesus, he enjoys practically paternal authority." The dig-nity, sanctity, and power of Joseph, these three are on a par in the mind of the Holy Father; hence his whole ericyclical is a ringing exhortation to all the faithful and to the uni-versal Church to "go to Joseph," to honor him as his exalted dignity demands, to emulate the virtues of his sanc-tity which are resplendent for all classes in the Church, and to have recourse with unfailing confidence to his very real 'fatherly authority by which he is still "lord over his house-hold and ruler of all his possessions." The exhortation of Leo XIII is as timely today as when first uttered; nay if possible, it has grown in timeliness and urgency. Today more than ever, under stress of the most colossal menace that has ever threatened Church, .state, and civilization itself, we shall not fhil to remember one cer-tain haven of refuge, and to make it a precious habit of our spiritual life' in all our needs, to "go to Joseph," after Mary, the greatest of saints. 84 The Scapular Devo!:ion and !:he Sabba!:ine Privilege William A. Donaghy, S.3. ALTHOUGH thousands of Catholic~ loyally wear the little cloth yoke which is the symbol of their ~levo. tion to our Lad~, many of them are unaware of the Spiritual wealth with which the Church has endowed the Scapular. Most Catholics~ moreover; are ignorant of the wide variety of scapulars; and there are many minor points and problems connected with the devotion that even reli-gious might profitably consider. It is the purpose of this article to present a brief sketch of the devotion's historical background, to give some of the theology connected with it, and to indicate moral and pastoral aspects of it. The traditional account of the rise and growth of the Scapular devotion brings us back tO the thirteenth cen-tury. In those ancient days, the English Crusaders brought back to England from Palestine a little group of .hermits who had been living the religious life on Mount Carmel, the rugged backdrop against which Elias the prophet had confounded the priests of Baal, as the Third Book of Kings recounts. In England, these brethern were joined by a fiery hermit named Stock--so called, because he had been living peni-tentially in the trunk, or stock, of a tree. Much like the Baptist was this shaggy zealot, in his rough clothing, his gauntness, and his white-hot devotion to God. When he attached himself to the Carmelites, he took tl~e significant name of Simon, a name wealthy in memories and prophetic of leadership. The tiny band prospered so well in England that soon WILLIAM A. DONAGHY their numbers demanded some sort of local supervision and jurisdiction. Simon Stock was named Vicar-General and, in the year 1245, he was designated General of the whole. ¯ order. ~ All along, the ideal of these holy men had been one of strict seclusion, prayer, and penance. But at that time, even as in our own, students were thronging to the universi-ties; and the need of a highly educated clergy to guide this intellectual generation became increasingly apparent. Simon decided to train his younger members to meet this demand: buk some of the elders regarded his decision as a desertion of the cloister and a dangerous innovation against which they "firmly set their faces. Meanwhile, outside the cloister walls, jealous eyes had been observing the rise and growing influ-ence of the Friars, and now these enemies raised an outcry for the suppression of this "upstart" order. Sagging beneath his ninety years and the burdens of office, besieged from Without and suspected within his own household, Simon Stock withdrew, in 125f, to the mon-astery at Cambridge, where he begged a sign of solace from the Queen of Heaven. Apparelled in light and attended by angels our Lady appeared to him holding in her hand the- B~own"Scapular: "Receive, my beloved son," she said, "this habit of thy order; this shall be to thee and to all Carmel-ites a privilege, that whosoever dies clothed in this shall never suffer eternal fire." Almost a century later, Mary appeared again, this time to the man who was short!y to become Pope 3ohn XXII. To the future Pontiff, she gave new evidence of her gener-osity and extended and enlarged the Scapular Promise by an addition which has come to be known as the Sabbatine or Saturday Privilege." Afterhis elevation to Peter's chair, 3ohn published this private revelation in a Papal Bull. Our 86 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION Lady had assured him that she would release from Purga-tory any members of her order on the Saturday following their deaths. Let us now examine these promises more in detail to see what they mean and imply: The Scapular promise, in the first place, comprises.two elements: 1) "Whoever dies clothed in this habit"; 2) "shall not suffer the fires of Hell." Now, only the members of the Carmelite Confraternity are entitled to wear the "habit," that is, the Brown Scapu~ lar. Hence the words of our Lady, "clothed in this habit," involve membership in that confraternity. One must, therefore, voluntarily enlist in Mary's great brotherhood before a priest authorized either by the Holy See or by the Carmelite General, to receive members. The officiating priest, moreover, unless he has a special privilege to the contrary, must enter the name of any new confrfire in a reg-ister of the Confraternity. Now formally admitted, the candidate is allowed to wear the Scapular; he is now "clothed in this habit." Obviously the large habit of Carmel fulfills this condi-tion; as does its small imitation, the Brown Scapular. And by grant of Plus X, in 1910, the scapular medal may now take the place of any cloth scapular in which one has been validly ~nrolled1. The subsequent words of the Scapular promise guaran-. tee that any wearer of the "habit" will escape the fires of hell. We must not, however, interpret this falsely. A man who dies in mortal sin, no matter what his garb, cannot be saved; that is eternal truth. What, then, does the assurance 1In allowing the substitution of the medal for the various scapulars, Pins X stated that those wearing the medal could gain all indulgences and participate in all spiritual favors attached to the scapulars. Nevertheless, some consider it safer to use the Brown Scapular itself when trying to bring about the death-bed conversion of impeni-tent sinners. Cf, The Ecclesiastical Reoiew, 3ul~r, 1941, p. 43. reED. 87 WILLIAM A. DONAGHY . mean? To determine the meaning, it will help to recall the general nature of the various scapular confraternities. As we shall see later, there are many scapulars and many ¯ scapular confraternities. Through the years, the Popes have decreed the patronage, ,guidance, and control of these pious org:inizations to different religiqus orders and con-gregations of the Church., When, therefore, a man joins a confraternity, he aggregates himself in some degree to the religious body which has special control of that confra-ternity; and he thereby participates in the end and purpose of that order or congregation. All these great religious :communities have this in common, that it is their aim and intent to strive towards perfection in the spirit and accord-ing to the path of the three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and. obedience. In their .degree, the scapular con,- fraternities share the aim and object of the parent order or congregation; .hence the confreres, to a limited extent, pledge fidelity, to the same high evangelical ideal. Merely to wear the scapular without baying this spirit in the soul would not only not be virtuous; it would be perilously close to, the,dry and sterile Pharisaism which our Lord so mercilessly, .ondemned. The scapular, .too, is a link which binds the wearer to the members of the first and second orders and to his fellow .members in the confraternity, thus enabling him to share on earth some of .the special fruits of the communion of saints. How absi~rd'and dangerous it would be, then, to imag-ine that th~ scapular is a magical amulet, charm, or fool-proofs. passport to heaven! Against the Semi-Pelagians who exalted man's natural powers and self-sufficiency the Coun-cil of Orange hurled a definition which re-echoed in Trent. For the Church teaches that even for the just man, the actual grace of perseverance requires a special help from 88 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION God. It is in the light of this dogma, in fact, that some great theologians seem to understand the Scapular p.romise; for they interpret it to mean that anyone dying in our Lady's . confraternity and wearing her scapular will receive through her at the hour of death either t.he grace of perseverance or the grace of final contrition. The lessons for the office of St. Simon Stock quote the promise. But before he sanc-tioned- the office, Pope Leo XIII inserted the adverb "piously" ("pie"), to make the promise read: "Whoever dies piously wearing this habit will not suffer the flames of hell." Turning now to the Sabbatine or Saturday Privilege, .we find that the Bull of John XXII proclaiming the privi-lege declares that our Lady wanted John "to. make known to all that on the Saturday following their death she would deliver from Purgatory all who wore the Carmelite Scapu-lar." In a Bull of approbation, Paul V confirms the prom-ise but confines its application to those "who in life wore our Lady's habit, were chaste according to their state, recited the Little Office, and abstained on Wednesdays and Satur-days except when Christmas fell on one of those days. These: clients will Mary help by her intercession and her special protection after their death, especially on Saturday, the day which the Church has especially dedicated to. her." It is worthy of note that a priest who has the faculty of receiving candidates into the Scapulhr Confraternity. has also the power to commute the conditions necessary for the Sabbatine Privilege and to substitute other devotional practices. As Pope Paul. lays them down, the requirements whereby one renders oneself eligible for the Sabbatine privilege are too clear to need further explanation. Once again the shining sanity and unshakable love of truth WILLIAM A. DONAGHY which characterize the Church have removed any danger of pre.sumption or superstition. Thus far we have given the traditionally accepted accounts 6f these two private revelations to St. Simon Stock and Pope 3ohn XXII and have made the obvious commentary on them. However, it is only fair to admit that these revelations have been attacked not only by non- Catholics but by sincere Catholic scholars as well.- For-tunately, ¯ we do not have to examine the evidence of the conflicting parties and decide the matter for ourselves. .We can raise the whole controversy to the higher plane of dogmatic values. Several Pontiffs have blessed and approved the scapular promise and the Sabbatine privi-lege; under the watchful eye of the Church, thesedevotions have been preached for centuries; and such confirmation of their validity is sufficient proof for the Catholic mind which realizes that the living, teaching Church rests not on the cornerstone of a library but on the Rock that is°Peter. It is true, .of course, that the great public revelation which Christ committed to His Apostles closed with the death of the last Apostle. It is this. fixed and unchanging body of truth which the Church guards. When from time totime She defines a dogma; she affirms that the truth in question,, actually and really is part of ,that' Apostolic deposit of faith. Other private revelations which have come to individuals down through the ages/neither augment nor complement the Apostolic revelation. Strictly speaking, therefore, one is not bound ,to beli~v,e in them; nor, do they. as such, pertain to the authority of the Church. But it is the office of the Church authentically to interpret and authoritatively to decide whether or not the content of such revelations agrees with the eternal truth of which she is divinely instituted custodian. She could not condone any 90 THE SCAPULAR DEVOTION offense against either faith or morals. In his great work on the Sacred Heart devotion, which was privately revealed to St. Margaret Mary, Father Bain-vel points out that the Church's approbation signifies that there is nothing in the devotion contrary to faith or morals. Moreover, Margaret Mary's holiness, on which the Church has set the crown of canonization, is ampl~ testimony of her right to,be believed. The apparition to her is, as Father Pesch notes, only the occasion of public worship of the Sacred Heart; the real reason for the worship is the author-ity of the teaching Church accepting the devotion and incorporating it into her liturgy. So, too, with the Scapular devotion. No matter what one may think of its historical foundations, it rests on the bed-rock of divine authority. Perhaps there is no bette~r proof of the Church's attitude towards the Scapular than the indulgences, almost "innumerable" as St. Alphonsus exclaims, which she has heaped on it. Best known and most widespread of all scapulars is the Carmelite Brown Scapular, to which the foregoing remarks apply. But there are many other scapulars. One fre-quently hears references to the "five scapulars"; and it might be interesting to mention and describe them sketchily. The white scapular of the Most Bleised Trinity, marked by a blue and red cross, is the badge of the confraternity associ-ated with the ~Trinitarians. Then there is the red scapular of the Passion, control and direction of which Pius IX com-mitted to the Lazarists; the blue scapular of the Immaculate Conception, under the Theatine Fathers; the black scapular .of the Seven Dolors represents the confraternity which the Servite Fathers direct. These, with the Carmelite scapular, are the "five scapulars." As we have mentioned, a priest receives the faculty to 91 WILLIAM A. DONAGHY admit members into these various confraternities either from the Holy See or from the General Superior ofthe reli-gious family in charge of the confraternity. The receiving priest must-bless the scapular and invest the candidate with it, although it is sufficient investitureif the priest simply lays the scapular across the shoulder of the recipient. During a mission, or when there is a great crowd of candidates to be admitted, some priests have the power of enrolling people in the scapular without personally placing it on the person who is to wear it. For the blessing of a scapular, the simple .sign of the cross is not sufficient; the priest must use the prescribed formula, which is necessary for validity, though he may always use the shortest of the three blessings given in the Roman Ritual. Furthermore, any priest who has the faculty to bless scapulars and the resultant power to enroll candidates in the corresponding confraternities, has also the power to enroll himself. What of the scapulars themselves? They must not be round or oval but must be square or oblong; they must be made Qf wool, and, although it is permitted to ornament them with needlework.or painting,, the color proper to each must prevail. These conditions all affect validity. In the Ecclesiastical. Review for August, 19411 Mr. John Haffert pointed out that approximately half a million worthless Scapulars are bought annually in the United States. Unscrupulous dealers make them of felt, which is cheaper ¯ than wool. The cords binding the oblongs of the scapular may be of any material or color, except for the scapular of the Pas-sion which requires red woolen strings. The scapulars must be. worn constantly, but if one has laid them aside for a perio~t, he may resume wearing them and thus revive his title to the privileges and indulgences attached to them. 92 THE SCAPUL,~R DEVOTION Only the first scapular needs to be blessed; after that, one simply get a new pair and puts them on. The scapular medal is a substitute for the cloth scapu-lar, granted by Plus X, in 1910. Missionaries request~ed the concession, because the wearing of the cloth scapular was a great inconvenience for their native converts. The l~ontiff did not wish to have the medal supplant the cloth scapular, however: and his successor Plus XI permitted a protected scapular, enclosed in ~loth, to overcome objec-tions of a sanitary sort. Other great theologians look with regret on the passing of the cloth scapular and the popu-larity of the medal; but the medal has official approval and styles have changed so radically since 1910 that many more now have reason to substitute the medal for the cloth scapu-lar. ~!~rho may bles~ the scapular medal? Any priest having the power to bless that scapular which the medal is to replace; and a simple sign of the cross is sufficient to endow the medal with precisely the same indulgences which the cloth- scapular would enjoy.° In fact, the priest may bless many scapular medals, even if he cannot see them--as would be the case in a crowded church. But if a medal is to represent several different scapulars, the Sign of the cross should be repeated for each of those different scapulars. These are only a few aspec[s of, the scapular, the humble heraldic symbol of devotion to the Queen of Heaveri. There are many others and one might write a long work on the subject. But the whole matter is .admirably summed up for us, as far as its practical side goes, in the words of St. J~lphonsus de Liguori, the Church's great Doctor of Morals. He epitomizes his own attitude towards this devo-tion briefly and significantly: "For my own part," he writes, "I havebeen careful.to receive all these scapulars." Pert:ec!:ion and !:he Religious Augustine Klaas, S.J. " I. Introduction //r~EI~FECTION is for priests and religious. I am only a layman. I am fortunate to keep my soul in sanc-tifying grace. Perfection is not for me." --- Religious have often enough heard similar views expressed by good, exemplary layfolk, who seem to imply that they would lead the perfect life if only it were "for them." Is the life of perfection "'for them" ? Most certainly it is. Priests and religious have no monopoly on perfection. The invitation to it comes to the laity from the lips of Our Lord, Who, after He had explained the principles of perfection in the Sermon on the Mount, said to the multitude: "You there-fore are to be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is per.- .fect" (Matthew 5:48). St. Peter echoes these words in a letter to the Christian communities of Asia Minor: "As the One who called you is holy, be you also holy in all your behavior" (I Peter 1 : 15). And St. Paul: "This is the will ofGod,your sanctification". (I Thessalonians 4:3). Later St. Paul clarifies this. idea when he transmits to the Colos-sians the greetings of Epaphras, "who is ever solicitous for you in his prayers, that you may remain perfect and com-pl'etely in accord with all the will of God" (Colossians 4:12). That this is not an easy task was declared by Christ Himielf when He said to all: "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me" (Luke 9:23). Though not always cor-rectly understood, even by religious, this doctrine of uni-versal perfection has been the constant teaching of the Cath- 94 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS olic Church. It is forcefully reiterated by Pius XI in his encyclical on St. Francis de Sales ($anuary 26, 1923) ;. "We cannot accept the belief that this command of' Christ (Matthew 5:48 above, previously cited by the Holy Father) concerns only a select and privileged group of souls and that all others may consider themselves pleasing to Him if they have attained to a lower degree of holiness. Quite. the contrary is true, as appears from the very generality of His words. The law of holiness embraces all men and admits of no exception. What is more, it appears that Francis de Sales was given to the Church by God for a very special mission. His task was to give the lie to the prejudice which in his lifetime was deeply rooted and has not been destroyed even today, that the ideal of genuine sanctity held UP for our imitation by the Church is impossible of attain-ment or, at best, is so difficult that it surpasses the capabili-ties of the great majority of the faithful and is, therefore, to be thought of as the exclusive possession of a few great souls. St. Francis likewise disproved the false idea that holiness was so hedged around by annoyances and hard-ships that it is inadaptable to a life lived outside cloister walls." Again, in the Encyclical on Marriage (December 31, 1930) : "For all men, of every condition and in whatever honorable walk of life they may be, can and ought to imi-tate that most perfect example of holiness, placed before man by God, namely, Christ our Lord, and by God's grace to arrive at the summit of perfection:" Hence, we see that men, women, and children, of every age, condition of society, and state of life not only can but should ascend the mountain of perfection even to its lofty summits. And they have done so. Some, like King Louis of 95 AUGUSTINE KLAAS France or Henry Of Germany, Queen Elizabeth of Hun-gary, Chancellor Thomas More of England or the lowly Benedict Labre of France, have been declared officially to have reached a heroic degree of perfection. Many more, like Matt Talbot, the lumberyard worker; Jerome Jaegen, the banker; Anna-Maria Taigi, the housewife; Frederick Ozanam, the professor; and Guy de Fontgalland, the pupil, have not yet been canonized. Tens of thousands more have their lives of heroic perfection writtdn only in the Book of' Life!. If the laity have a.strong invitation to strive for perfec-tion, the clergyhave a~command to seek that perfection implied in their high vocation. The Canon Law of the Church declares that "clerics must lead an interior and exterior life holiertha'n that of the laity and give thes~ the good example of virtu'e and good works." The .Bishop must see to it "that allclerics receive.~frequently the Sacra-ment of Pen;ince to be purified of their faults; that each day they apply themselves duriffg a certain length of time to the exercise of mental prayer, visit the Most Blessed Sacrament, recite the beads in honor of the Blessed M6ther of God, and make their examination of conscience . . . " (Cf. Canons 124-127). These-are essential spiritual practices leading directly to that high spiritual perfection demanded of the priesthood by.Christ and His Church., No one~ can read the ',Exhortation to the Catholic Clergy" of Pius X or.the Encyclical of Plus XI on the Priesthoodwithout being con-vinced of the necessity of perfection for the clergy. Their sublime calling to be "other Christs," their daily ministry 1Canon Arendzen raises an interesting question in The Clergg Review for October, 1941, p. 248. He wants to know whether the Church has ever canonized a married saint, apar~ from martyrdom? By married person he means one who ,actually lived in conjugal life till death, not widowers or widows, or persons who, though m~rried. lived as brother and Sister, at least for many years. If the answer is negative, it Would seem to indicate that abstinence from conjugal life is a prerequisite of heroic sanctity, or at least of canonization. What do our readers think about it? 96 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS of offering the Holy Sacrifice and of dispensing the Sacra-ments to the faithful requires much more than ordinary holiness of life. indeed, St. Thomas says that to serve Christ - in the Sacrament of the Altar "a greater interior sanctity is required than even the religious state demands." Then, too, effectiveness in apostolic work is altogether bound up with spiritual perfection. The Cur~ of Ars brought an averag~ of three hundred penitents a day to his confessional, not so much by eloquence of sermon or exactitude of litur-gical function as by his eminent personal holiness. So important is perfection for the clergy that theologians speak of a "state of perfection" for him who has the plentitude of the priesthood, the Bishop: his consecration presupposes in him a high degree of perfection already attained. Religious also are said tO be in the "state of perfection," that is, the state of perfection to be acquired. Religious are not necessarily perfect when they enter into the religious life, but they have the obligation to strive for perfection; they must put forth an honest effort to attain to it. The Canon Law of the Church defines the religious state as "the firmly established manner of living in community, by which the faithful undertake to observe not only the ordinary pre-cepts but also the ~vangelical counsels, by means of the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty" (Canon 487), ~and declares that "each and every religious, superior as well as subject, is bound to tend toward the perfection of his state" (Canon 593). Hence, perfection is the specialty of reli-gious, the object and goal of their whole lives. They must strive earnestly for it, according to their particular institute and rule. Indeed, to refuse outright to do so, cannot-be excused from sin. The nature and limits of this obligation upon religious to strive for perfection will be discussed in a later section of thi~ article. This, at least, is true: there is AUGUSTINE KLAAS no state of life in which perfection is easier of attainment,. since in the religious life so many obstacles t6 it are removed and so many efficacious means to achieve it ~are provided. Hence, .it is not at all surprising to note the preponderance of religious who have been raised to the honors Of the altar. Statistics show that of the one hundred and forty-six saints canonized between 1600 and 1926, one hundred and ten were religious~. In a world-wide radio broadcast on Febru-ary 12, 1931, Pope Pius XI addressed to the religious of the Whole world these encouragin~ words on the excellence Of the religious life: "Sfriving after thebetter gifts and observing not only ' the precepts but also the wishes and counsels of the Divine King and Spouse by the faithful observance of your holy vows and by the religious discipli.ne of your entire lives, you render the Church of God fragrant with the odor Of vir-ginity, you enlighten her by your contemplations, you support her by your prayers, you enrich her by your knowl-edge and teaching, you daily perfect and strengthen her by your ministry of the word and by the works of your apos: tolate. Therefore, as you are partakers of a truly heavenly and angelical vocation, the more precious the treasure you carry, the,more careful watch you must keep, so that you do Got only make. your vocation and election certain, but also .that in you, as in most faithful and devoted servants, the Heart of .the King and Spouse may find some consolation and reparation for the infinite offenses and negligences with which men requite His ineffable love." II. Perfection, In General Perfection, then, is for the layman, the cleric, anti in a peiuliar way for the religious. Whatever may be the pre- 2Incidentall~r. the first nun to be solemnl~r canonized b~i the Church was Saint Clare of Assisi. She died in 1253 and was canonized in 1255. Her feast is celebrated on August 12. PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS cise nature of the obligation and invitation to perfection, it is certain that perfection is possible for all. and strongly urged upon every one without exception. Does this mean that perfection is manifold? Is there one kind of perfection for the layman, another for the priest, and still another for the religious? By no m~ans. Perfection is one. Essentially, perfection is the sameforall. It is the same as to object and general means. What differences occur, are only incidental, a matter of different specific means employed, a matter of different circumstances, environment, and opportunity. Nor do religious orders and dongregations differ essentially as to the perfection for which they strive, each in its own particular way. Basically, the perfection of Francis of Assisi, Benedict, Dominic, or Ignatius Loyola does not differ from that of Theresa of Avila, 2oan of Arc, Sophie Barat, .Pius the Fifth, Charles Borromeo, John Vianney, Thomas More, or Francis de Sales. There are many lanes and many types of ~ars On the lanes and various travellers in the cars, but there is only one broad highway of perfed-tion leading to God. What is the nature of this common essential perfec-tionmperfection in the strict sense--sought after by lay-man, priest, and religious alike? A simple illustration or two will help to clarify our ideas. A watch is perfect when~ it fulfills the purpose for whic~ it was made, namely,, to tell the correct time. This it will unfa!lingly do if all its parts are in place and if it functions exactly. Presupposing the parts, a watch's perfection lies mainly in its functioning, in its faultless activity. Not that a perfect watch must always be running. It must however be capableof running per-fectly, capable of achieving its purpose, the telling of ,the exact time. Hence, we may say that the perfection of a watch consists in its habitual disposition to' function so as 99 AUGUSTINE KLAAS to unerringly tell the time. Or consider the student. The purpose of the student is to acquire the knowledge and intellectual proficiency demanded by the academic degree he is seeking. Granted that he has talent, sufgicient health, books, and other necessary acquirements, he will secure this kriowledge and consequently his degree by his activity,, his mental activity reflection, study, and research. And, other things being equa.1, the more develof0ed and precise his intellectual activity~ is, the .more perfectly will he achieve his purpose, the acquirement of knowledge and his degree. The perfection of the student therefore consists mainly in his intellectual activity. This does not mean that he ceases "to be a student the moment he stops studying, for he remains a student even though he '. sleeps~-of course, at-the proper time and place! What~makes him a student is an acquired disposition, a habit of intellectual activity in the pursuit of knowledge. The m6re perfect his mental habit and activity are, the more perfect a student will he be and the more per, fectly .will he .acqui/e knowledge and his degree. The purpose for which God. made man is that~ ulti-mately man be united to God in the enjoyment of the beatific vision in heaven. Now, this union admits of degrees. It will be more perfect in proportion as-sancti, lying grace is gr~eater in the soul when man comes :to the end of his earthly life. Thus, practically speaking, man's~per~ fection in this life consists in maintaining and increasing sanctifying grace in his soul, so that this life of grace may grow more and more "to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fulness of Christ" (Ephesians 4:13). How is this sanctifying grace increased in the soul? In two ways: first, by the worthy reception of the sacraments, which of themselves, as God's instruments for imparting grace,---ex, opere operato, as the theologians say,mincrease 100 PERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOU6 sanctifying grace in the soul; and secondly, by our activ-ity, bex opere operantis which can merit an increase of sanctifying grace. Like .that of the watch and student above, our perfection will consist principally in our activity. But what kind of activity? Not necessarilyphysical activity, for the Brother who excels as an athlete will not inevitably be more perfect than the Brother bound by paralysis to a wheel-chair. Neither does perfec~tion consist in mere intellectual activity, since Sister Mary Sapientia hugging her doctorate of philosophy is not necessarily more perfect than Sister Mary Martha hugging her pots and pans in the kitchen. Possibly Anna-Maria Taigi, that incom-parable plebeian housewife and mother, was more perfect than her learned confessor, and Guy de Fontgalland than some of his professors. Perfection does not consist in physi-cal prowess or intellectual acumen; perfection is concerned principally with will activity, that is, moral activity, the doing of good. And this moral activity is not merely natural: many pagans in the modern world do an immense amount of good but they are far from the perfection we are speaking of. When we speak of perfection we mean super-natural moral activity, that will activity which presupposes sanctifying grace in the soul and has the assistance of actual grace in its performance. Furthermore, perfection does not mean a bare minimum of doing good, but the utmost in quantity and quality, according to our capacities of nature and of grace, according to our circumstances of time, place, and opportunity. By frequent acts of doing good we merit an increase of sanctifying grace in the soul. By frequent acts of doing good a stable disposition or readiness" to do good. is formed, which in turn facilitates further good acts. Hence,- spiritual perfection may be defined as fi habitual supernatural disposition or readiness to accomplish as much good as one's IOL . AUGUSTINE KLAAS capac.ities and opportunities permit. By the' acts that flow from this disposition, by doing the maximum good, we achieve our life's purpose, the maximum growth of sancti-fying- grace in our souls and ultimately a greater union with God in the happiness of heavens. In heaven alone shall we ac.complish good to the t:ult extent of our capacities of nature and of grace. On earth, only two persons have done so, Jesus Christ, because He was the God-Man, and the Blessed Virgin, by special privi-lege. Ordinarily, however, it is impossible to realize this supreme ideal of perfection. In fact, it could be heresy to say that it were possible, for Catholic theology teaches that without a special privilege we cannot abstain for a lengthy period of time from committing at least semi-deliberate venial sins, that is,.sins of frailty and surprise, and hence, to that extent, we shall always fail to do our full measure of good. To the end of our lives we shall ever sincerely pray "forgive us this day our trespasses." The Church has condemned repiatedly the doctrine of an entirely~ sinless perfection in thisworld, as was taught by Pelagius, Molin0s, and others. On the other hand, the Church has also con-demhed in no uncertain terms the Alumbrados and the Qaietists for maintaining that we can arrive at such a state of lofty perfection that, overflowing~ with divine grace, we can neither progress nor regress any more in the spiritual life. Now, if there are limits to our sinlessness and limits tff our positive capacity for doing good, we can never accom-plish all the good of which we are theoretically capable: we can never reach the ideal norm of perfection. Neither did the saints attain tO it upon this earth. What, then, does aFor a fuller development of these ideas, confer Zimmerm~nn, Otto, S.J., Lebrbacb dee Aszetik, Herder, 1932, p. 16 ft. 102 DERFECTION AND THE RELIGIOUS perfection in this life really mean? It means an ~ver closer approximation to the ideal, the getting as near to the ideal as is humanly possible with the measure of God's grace.- given to us. This is exactly what the saints did. It means negatively, the avoidance of. deliberate venial sins and the greatest possible avoidance, of imperfections and semi-deliberate venial sins; and positively, the utmost perform-ance ofall good, whether¯ of precept or of counsel. Coun~ sel, of course, as here understood, is not restricted to the evangelical olaes of poverty, chastity, and obedience, but is taken in its w~dest sense, as referring to anything not of obligation: for example, to hear Mass on Sunday is a pre-cept, but to hear Mass on an ~ ordinary week-day may be a counsel for a particular individual. There is now no ques-tion of ~mortal sin. The ,battle against fully deliberate venial sin has been won, though occasional lapses may still . occur. Imperfections and semi-deliberate venial sins are avoided as much as possible. God's commandments and precepts, and above all. His counsels are faithfully carried out as far as is humhnly possible with the aid of God's grace in our particular position and circumstances of life. Hence, practically speaking, spiritual perfection consists in the habitual disposition and readiness of soul tO avoid imper-fections" and semi-deliberate venial sins as much as possible and, presupposing the observance of the precepts, in the utmost carrying out of the counsels, according to one's par-ticular circumstances of life and measure of God's grace imparted. This common perfection, sought after so earnestly by priests, religious, and laity, cannot be computed mathe-matically; it will vary with the individual, according to the many factors involved. ~lust as we cannot estimate the heroic perfection of the canonized saints relative to each 103 AUGUSTINE KLAA8 other or indeed to uncanonized ones, so we cannot estimate the perfection of individuals on this earth, except in a very general way: Perhaps spiritual perfection may be com-pared to exquisite perfume; individuals to vials. The vials are of various types, colors, capacities, artistic designs, and values: the excellent perfume in them is of almost countless blends, some very rare and costly. All, however, have a quality in common; all give forth the sweet fragrance of perfection, so pleasing to God and to. man. Perfection, as we have said, consists mainly in activity. Now, spiritual activity implies the possession and exercise of the virtues. Among the varied combination of virtues found in persons striving for perfection, is there one which always predominates? Is there one virtue which rules all the others like a queen and may be called the essence of perfe.ction? (To be continued) ANNOUNCEMENT After the publication of the first issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, we received many kind letters ofcommendation. We tried to answer ¯ each.letter, but we found that impossible. We wish to take the pres-ent occasion of thanking all who have sent us encouragement and suggestions. When the ,January issue was published, we printed what we con-sidered an amply sufl~cien~ number to satisfy all requests for back numbers and sample copies. But our supply was soon exhausted. However, we have arranged for a reprinting, and we shall soon be ablk to satisfy those who wish their subscriptions to begin with Volume 1, Number 1. --THE EDITORS. 104 RecornrnendecJ Spiritual Books THE PRESENT list of spiritual books and those that will follow from time to time are designed to be of practical assistance to religious, who by rule and inclination do a considerable amount of spiritual reading each year. The lists will include the spiritual classics of the past and also those more modern sl~iritual books which are of greater worth to religious. Only works written in English or that have been translated into English will be listed. Communities that are gradually building up a spiritual library will find in these guiding lists that fundamental nucleus of worthwhile books that must be the foundation of any spiritual library. No attempt was made to make this list complete, as it will be added to periodically. The books listed are for genera/, spiritual reading, unless otherwise indicated. Another list for general use will appear in an early issue of the REVIEW; and these will be fol-lowed by lists of a more specialized nature, for example, books for young religious, for more mature religious, meditation books, books on higher prayer, and so forth. Suggestions will be welcomed. In citing the books, it was deemed sufficient to give the name of the author in alphabetical order, the yearof his death if he is no loriger living, and the title of the book. Occasionally a short com-ment is added. Publishers are not mentioned, as these books can be procured through any large publishing house or bookstore. Read-ers may find it helpful to make a card-index list of these authors, as this can be conveniently augmented. I would suggest to those who are beginning a library to purchase the more modern books first, and then add the older classics progres-sively. Specifically, I would recommend starting with the following authors: Goodier, Leen, Marmion, Maturin, Mother Loyola, ~Plus, Pourrat, Saudreau, and Tanquerey. Of course, spiritual books per-tinent to one's own order or congregation will generally be given the ~reference in any library. Small communities that cannot afford a large library might obtain the advantages of such a library by pooling resources with other houses, and establishing some practical circulating system. ---~UGUSTINE KLAAS, S.J. 105 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS ADAM, KARL The Spirit ,of Catholicism. Christ Our Brother. The Son of God. All excellent books for inspiration. ALPHONSUS LIGUORI, SAINT (1787) Ascetical Works, transJated by Grimm. 12 vols. AUGUSTINE, SAINT (430) The Confessions, edited by Dora ¯Roger Huddleston. Readings from St. Augustine on the Psalms, edited by Jos. Rickaby, S.J. The Teachings of St. Augustine on Prayer and the Contempla-tive Life, by Hugh Pope, O.P. BASIL, SAINT (379) Ascetical Works, edited by W. Clarke. 1 volume. These works describe the fundamental principles of monastic asceticism. BENEDICT, SAINT (543) The Rule of St. Benedict, translated with an introduction by Cardinal Gasquet. .The Rule of St. Benedict: A Commentary, by D0m Paul De-latte. Benedictine' Monachisrn, by Dom Cuthbert Butler. BERNARD, SAINT (1 153) Treatise on Consideration. translated by a priest of Mount Melleray. Treatise on the Love of God, translated by R. Terence Connolly. The Steps of Humility, translated by G~ B. Burch. The Life and Teachings of St. Bernard, by A. 3. Luddy, O. Cist. (Expensive.) Plus XI, in an Apostolic Letter recommended the reading of St. Bernard to religious. BLOS!US, ABBOT LOUIS, O.S.B. (1566) Spiritual Works. 6 volumes. ~ BONAVENTURE, SAINT (1274) Holiness of Life, edited by Ft. Wilfrid, O.F.M. Franciscan View of the Spiritual and Religious Life,mthree ,treatisds of St. Bonaventure, translated by P. D. Devas. Meditations on the Life of Christ, translated by Sister M. Em-manuel, O:S.B. (Excellent Fianciscan meditations, but of doubtful authenticity.) The works of St. Bonaventure were also recommended by Pius XI. 106 RECOLLV~NDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS BRUYERE, MADAME CECILIA (1909) Spiritual Life and Prayer. CABROL, ABBOT ~'-'ERNAND, O.S.B. Liturgical Prayer, Its History and Spirit. The Mass, Its Doctrine, Its History. The Year's Liturgy: Volume I, The Seasons; Volume II, The Sanctoral. CATHERINE OF SIENA, SAINT (1380) The Dialogue, translated by A. Thorold. Letters, edited by V. D. Scudder. CHAOTARD, JOHN B., O. CIST. (1936) The True Apostolate, translated by F. Girardey,C.SS.R. (On the relation of spiritual life to apostolic activity.) FABER FREDERICK W. (1863) Bethlehem. At the Foot of the Cross. All for Jesus. The Creator and the Creature. The Blessed Sacrament. Growth in Holiness. The Precious Blood. Spiritual Conferences. Faber's works are devotional and acutely psychological. FARGES, MSGR. ALBERT The Ordinary Ways of the Spiritual Life. (One of the best treatises on ascetical life.) FRANCIS DE SALES, SAINT (1622) Library of St. Francis de Sales. 7 volumes. St. Francis is the patron Saint of spiritual writers. His works were also recommended to religious by Plus XI. All religious should read them. FRANCIS OF ASSISI, SAINT (1226) The Wdtings of St. Francis of Assisi, translated by P. Robin-son, O.F.M. The Little Flowers of St. Francis of Assisi. The Ideals of St. Francis of Assisi, by H. Felder, O.M.Cap. GARRIGOU-LAGRANGE, REGINALD, O.P. Christian Perfection and Contemplation, translated by Sister M. Timothea, O.P. (One of the most widely discussed books in recent years.) GASQUET, F.AIDAN CARDINAL (1929) Religio Religiosi, (On the purpose and end of the religious life.) GAY, BISHOP CHARLES (1892) Christian Life and Virtues. Religious Life and Vows. 107 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOI~ GOODIER, ARCHBISHOP ALBAN (1939) The Public Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 vols. The Passion and Death of. Our Lord Jesus Christ. Ascetical and Mgstical Theologg. The Life that is Light. 3 vols. (Meditation Outlines.) The Meaning of Life, and Other Essags." Witnesses to .Christ: Studies in the Gospels. Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Jesus Christ, the Model of Manhood. A More Excellent .Wag. (A ~pamphlet.) The School of Love. The Prince of Peace, Meditations. The Crown of Sorrow, Meditations~ Fiftg Meditations on the Passion. The Risen Jesus, Meditations. GOURAUD, MSGR. ALSlME. A Return to the Novitiate. (For monthly recollection.) GUARDINI, ROMANO The Spirit of the Lit~rgg. The Church and the Catholic. Sacred Signs. HEDLEY, BISHOP JOHN (19,15) The Holg Eucharist. The Light of Life. "['he Spirit of Faith. Wisdom from Abooe. Our Divine Saviour and Other Discourses. Lex Levitarum. or Preparation for the Cure o( Souls. A Spiritual Retreat for Priests. : A Spiritual Retreat for Religious. A Retreat: Thirtg-Three Discourses. IGNATIUS LOYOLA, SAINT (1556) The Spiritual Exercises. The Spiritual Exercises of ~St. Ignati'us, translation and commen-tary by J. Rickaby, S.J. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, .with commentary by A. Ambruzzi, S.J. A Companion to the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, by A. Ambruzzi, S.J. JANE FRANCES DE CHANTAL, SAINT (1641 ): The "Spiritual Life. JOHN OF THE CROSS, SAINT (15 91 )' Complete Works. translated and edited by E. Allison Peers. 3 vols. (For mature religious.) 108 RECO/vIMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS JUERGENSMEIER, FRIEDRICH The Mystical Body of Christ as the Basic Principle of Religious Life. (A complete treatise on the spiritual life in terms ¯ . of the Mystical Body.) KEPPLER, BISHOP PAUL WILHELM (1926) " More Joy. On Suffering. LALLEMANT, LOUIS, S.3. ' (1635) Spiritual Doctrine. (For mature religious.) LEEN, EDWARD, C.S.SP. Progress through Mental Prayer. In the Likeness of Christ. The Holy Ghost and His Work in.Souls. Why the Cross? The True Vine and Its Branches. All are highly recommended. LOYOLA, MOTHER MARY (1933 The Child of God. Confession and Communion. Trust, A Book of Meditations. Welcome! Holy Communion: Before and :~fter. Hail Full of Gracer. Thoughts on the Rosary. With the Church. 2 vols. CoramSanct~simo desus of Nazareth. Heavenwards. MARMION, ABBOT COLUMBA, O.S.B. (1923)~ Christ the Life of the Soul. ,~ Christ in His Mysteries. Christ the Ideal o~ the Monk. Sponsa Verbi. The Way of the Cross. Words of Life on ~he Margin of the M~ssal. Sayings of Abbot Marmion, edited by Mother Mary St. Thomas. Certainly one of the greatest spiritual masters. MATURIN, BASLE WILLIAM. (1915) Self-knowledge and Self-discipline. Some Principles and Practices ~of t,h.e Spiritual ,Life. Laws of the Spiritual Life. Practical Studies on the Parables. MESCHLER, MAURICE, S.J. (1912) ~ Three Fundamental Principles of the Spiritual Life. Life of Our Lord desus Christ, in Meditations. 2 x~61s.' The Humanity of desus. St. doseph. The Gift of Pentecost. RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS MULLALY, CHARLES, J., S.J. Spiritual ReHections for Sisters. 2 volume series. NEWMAN, JOHN HENRY CARDINAL (1890) Favorite Newman Sermons, selected, by Daniel M. O'Con-nell, $.J. Heart to Heart: a Cardinal Newman Pra~lerbook, compiled by same. Kindhj Light: a Second Cardinal Newman Pra~lerbooh, com-piled by same. The Spiritual Le.qac.u of Newman, by William Robert Lamm. S.M. (A splendid synthesis of Newman's spirituality.) POURRAT, PIERRE Christian Spirituality. 3 vols. (A basic work; the only history of spirituality in English. The final fourth volume has not yet appeared in translation. A "must'; book. for serious study. Rather expensive.) PLUS, RAOUL, S.J. God Within Us. Living with God. Reparation. In Christ Jesus. Radiating Christ. The Eucharist. How to Pra[t Alwa[ls. How to pra[t Well. Facing Life---Series I: --Series H: Christ in His Brethren. The Folly of the Cross. " The Ideal of Reparation. Mary in Our Soul-life. Baptism and Confirmation. Meditations for Religious. Holiness in the Church. Progress in Divine Union. Meditations for Young Men. Meditations for Young Women. Dust, Remember Thou Art Splendor. RODRIGUEZ, ALPHONSUS, S.J. (1616) Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, translated by J. Rickaby, S.J. (Also recommended to religious by Plus XI.) SAUDREAU, MSGR. AUGUSTE The Degrees of the Spiritual Life. 2 vols. The Wail that Leads to God. The Life of Union with God. The Ideal of ~he Fervent Soul, These books cover all phases of the spiritual life; originally de-livered as instructions to nuns. SCARAMELLI, JOHN, S.J. (1752) The Oirectorium Asceticum, or Guide to the Spiritual Life'. 4 vols. 110 RECOMMENDED SPIRITUAL BOOKS TANQUEREY,ADOLPHE, S.S. (1932) Doctrine and Deootion. ~ The Spiritual Life. (This is the best'systematic work on ascetical theology in English. It is used as a text-book in some colleges. A "mus.t".) THERESA OF AVILA, SAINT (1582) Complete Works, translated by L~wis, edited by B. Zimmer- .man, O.C.D. (For mature religious.) THERESA OF LISIEUX, SAINT Autobiography. THOMAS A KEMPIS (1471) The Imitation of Christ. Groote or others.) (1897) (Sometimes attributed to Gerard THOMAS AQUINAS, SAINT (1274) Apology for Religious Orders. Religious State, Episcopate and Priestly Office. The Commandments of God. The Three Greatest Prayers. On Prayer and Thb Contemplative L~fe. These books must be studied, not merely read. TISSOT, JOSEPH (1894) The Interior Life Simplified. ULLATHORNE, BISHOP WILLIAM B. (1889) The Endowments of Man. Groundwork of theChristian.Virtues. Christian Patience. VONIER, ABBOT ANSCAR, O.S.B. (1938) Christ the King of Glory. A Key to the Doctrine of the Eucharist. The New and Eternal Covenant. Death and Judgement. The Life of the World t~ Come. The Angels. The Divine Motherhood. WILL)~M, DR. FRANZ The Life of desus Christ. Mary the Mother of Jesus. These books place Christ and His Blessed Mother against a background of Jewish life and customs, minutely but interest-ingly described. 11.1. The Doct:rinal Le!:!:er ot: Leo I on !:he Incarna!:ion Cyril Vollert, 8.3. THE recurrence of the Feast of the Annunciation centers our attention on an event which is never very far from the consciousness of a religious. It is the most astounding event that ever took place on this earth, the Incarnation of the Son of God. We shake our heads help-lessly when we try to appreciate what happened that day. It is too vast for the imagination to picture, too tremendous for the mind to grasp. How can we understand, with our feeble intellects, a Being who is both God and man? How can human language explain such a fact? Here, if any-where, we have need of a teacher, an interpreter. And such alone is the Church. He who will not hear the Church will go astray. No wonder, then, that throughout these two thou-sand years those who reject the Church reject this truth or, impatierit with God's revelation, pare down the truth to fit their own narrow minds. Some have insisted thai the Ttiing is impossible; and therefore Christ is only God, not man; or He is only man, not God. Others have taught that Christ was not a single Person, but two persons, God with His own divine nature, man with his own human nature. Still others, rebelling against this absurdity, and seeing in Christ only a single Person, concluded that He could have only one nature; and so, while before God became man there were two natures, one divine and one human, after the union of the two the human nature was swallowed up in the divine. Such was the notion of an ignorant and opin-ionated old monk, Eutyches by name, who in the fifth cen- 112. LEO I ON THE INCARNATION tury started a heresy which caused a theological hurricane in his own day, and which, with variations, still persists. But by the Providence of God the See of Peter was at thatl, turbulent moment Occupied by a saint and a learned theologian, Pope Leo I. Upon receipt of a full report of the error of Eutyches and the commotion stirred up by his heresy, Leo wrote a doctrinal letter about the matter to Flavian, then Bishop of Constantinople. In this letter the Pope set forth the truth in a statement so clear and exact that the Bishops assembled at the General Council of Chal-cedon a few years later acclaimed with enthusiasm. "Peter himself has spoken by the mouth of Leo"; and, "whoever does not accept the letter of our sainted Bishop Leo is a heretic." This is the famous dogmatic epistle or so-called "Tome" of Pope Saint Leo, an epistle justly cele-brated as one of the most important documents ever penned by a Roman Pontiff. In the conviction that the golden words of Leo are too precious to remain locked up in the Latin language and stored away in Volumes thumbed only by theologians and research scholars, the editors ~)f this REVIEW have desired that the principal sections of this letter be made available in an English translation. The rest of this article is devoted to such an attempt. St. Leo's Letter . All the faithful knowthe creed by which we profess belief in God the Father Almighty and in Jesus Christ His only Son, our Lord, who was born by the Holy Spirit of Mary the Virgin. By these'three propositions the machina-tions of almost all the heretics are thwarted. For belief in the omnipotent Father points out the Son, who is co-eternal ¯ with the Father and in nothing differs from the Father. because He is God born of God, Omnipotent of Omnipo- 113 CYRIL VOLLERT tint, Co-eternal of Eteraal; not later in time, not less 'in power, not Unequal in majesty, not divided in essence: And this same eternal, only-begotten Son of the eternal Father Was born by the Holy Spirit of Mary the Virgin. His birth in time, however, has taken nothing from that other divine and eternal birth from the Father; nor did it add anything, but was wholly contrived .for the redemption of man, who had been ensnared; for its purpose was to conquer death, and by its power to overthrow the tyiann~r Which the'devil exercised over death. We could not overcome the author of sin and death, unless He whom neither sin could besmirch nor death hold captive had taken.up our nature and made it His own. And so by the power ofthe Holy Spirit He was conceived in the Womb of His Virgin Mother, who gave birth to Him without hurt to her viriginity, just as she had conceived Himi without loss of the same. But we must take care not to misunders~tand this birth, which is so uniquely wonderful and so wonderfully unique. The nature proper, to the human race was not takefi away, by this new and unheard of procreation. The Ho~ly S16iri~, it is true, gave fruitfulness to the'Vir~gin, but the real body of the Son was derived from (he bod~r of the Mother. And so "the Word was made flesh, and"dwelt among hs"; .that is, the Wisdom of God built a house in the flesh which He took from a human being, and which He animated with a rational soul. ~ Thus, then, with everything pertaining to both of these natures and: substances remaining intact and coming together in one P~rson, lowliness was taken over by Majesty, weakness by Strength, mortality by Eternity. In order to pay the debt of our deplorable state, an inviolable nature was united to one that could suffer, so that one and the same Mediator between God and man, the man Jesus 114 LEO I ON THE INCARNATION Christ, could die according to one nature, even though in the other He could not die. Such was the remedy suitable to our distress. Therefore the true God was born with the complete and perfect nature of a real man, whole and entire in His own divinity, whole and entire in our humanity; in our humanity, I mean, such as the Creator made it in the beginning. This nature Christ assumed in order to restore it. The Son of God, then, has come upon our lowly earth, descending from His celestial throne without quitting the glo~ of His Father, heralding a new order of things, with a birth that is utterly unique. A new order: that is to say, He who is invisible in His own nature, has become visible in ours; He who is incomprehensible has will'ed to be com-prehended; He who exists before all time began to exist in time; the Lord of the universe, veiling His ihfinite majesty,. took the form of a servant; God incapable of suffering did not disdain to become a suffering man; God immortal did not refuse tO submit to the laws of death. And His birth was unique: for undefiled virginity, without experiencing con-cupiscence, has furnished a body of flesh. He received human nature from His Mother, but assumed no sin. But His miraculous birth does not make the human nature of our Lord ~lesus Christ, born of a Virgin, different from ours. For He who is truly God is also truly man; and although the lowliness of man and the sublimity of Deity are con-joined, there is nothing contradictory in this union. For just as God is not changed by the mercy which caused Him to become man, so neither is His humanity absorbed by His divine majesty. Each of these .natures, though in union with the other, performs functions proper to itself: ~the. Word does that which belongs to the Word, and the flesh does that which belongs to the flesh. One of these is resplend-ent with miracles, the other succumbs to injuries. And 115 CYRIL VOLLERT just as the Wor~l does not relinquish equality with the glory of the. Father, the flesh does not surrender the nature belonging to our race. One and the same Person, as we cannot repeat too often, is really the Son of God and really the son of man; God, because "in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God"; man, because "the Word was made-flesh and dwelt among us"; God, because "all things were made through Him, and without Him was made nothing"; man, because he was "born of a woman, born under the Law." His birth according to the flesh is proof of His human nature, birth from a Virgin is a sign of His divine power. Surely when He says, "I and the Father are one," He is not speaking of the same nature as when He says, "the Father is greater than I." In a word., then, although in our Lord Jesus Christ. there is only one Person, who is both God and man, the lowliness which He~ has in common with us is from a dif-ferent source than the grandeur which He has in common with the Father. From us He has the humanity in which He is inferior to the Father, from the Father He has the divinity in which He is equal to the Father. ' This,. then, is the faith in which the Catholic Church lives, in this she grows: we believe that in Christ Jesus there is neither humanity without true divinity, nor divinity without true humanity. ~ Such in part, and without any indication of the sec-tions omitted, is the authoritative dogmatic letter written by Pope Leo I, on the 13th of June, 449. Several General Councils later incorporated some of its phrases into infallible pronouncements which in the face of heretical, opposition defined-the true. doctrine concerning Christ as revealed to the world byGod. 116 ¯ Prot:ession ot: a Novice in Danger of: Deat:h Adam C. Ellis, S.~I. pOPE Saint Pius V, a member of the Order of Preachers, issued a Constitution called Summi" Sacerdotii on August 23, 1570, whereby he allowed any novice of the second order of Dominican nuns who was in danger of death ~to make her religious profession, even though she had not completed her canonical novitiate.His motive in doing so, as stated in the Constitution, was to provide spiritual consolation for the dying novice who would otherwise be deprived of the merit of the religious profession inheaven. To the onovice thus professed at the hour of death he fur~ thermore granted all the indulgences and Other favors which the professed nuns enjoyed in the same dircumstances, and added a plenary indulgence to be gainedat the moment 6f death. By reason ~f the communication ot~ privili~ges wiaich existed between the first and second orders of St. DominiC, this favor of Saint Pius V was extendedto the first order of Friars Preachers. Later on othe~r~religious institutes obtained the same favor from the Holy See by special indult or by way of. approval of their constitutions in which it was con-tained. Pope Pius X extended this privilege to all novices of every religious order or congregation or religious society by the Decree Spirituali Consolationi of September 3, 1912, which was published by the S. Congregation Of Religious on September 10, 1912. This Decree laid down detailed regulations regarding the profession tO be made by a novice at the hour of death and regulated its effects: 117 ADAM C. ELLIS The new Code of Canon Law, which was promulgated in 1917, made no mention of the aforesaid privilege; hence the question was raised whether it was still in effect. At a -.,plenary session Of the Eminent Cardinals who form the S. Congregation of Religious, held on December 29, 1922, it was decided that the privilege still existed, and the pro-visions for this profession established by Pius X were repeated with certain additions, .and approved by Pius XI on December 30, 1922,. and ordered published the same day. We shall give the text of this document of the S. Con-gregation of Religious with a brief explanation of each point. In everg order, congregation, religious societg, or mon-asterg of men or women, likewise in institutes in which common life is observed although Oows are not taken, henceforth it is allowed to admit to profession, consecration or promise, according to the rules and constitutions, novices or probationers who, in the opinion of a doctor, are so gravely ill that they are considered to be at the point of death, even though they have not completed the period of novitiate or probation. The privilege is general, and extends to all novices, not ~onty in an order or congregation or society in which vows are taken,, but also in institutes whose members live a com- .mon life without taking public vows, but who usually, according to their constitutions, make some form of conse-cration or promise of perseverance. The only condition laid down in the general grant is that the novice, in the opinion of a ,doctor, is sick unto death. However, in order that novices or probationers ma~l be admitted to the above-mentioned profession or consecration-or promise, it is necessary: I. That they shall have canonically begun their novi-tiate or probation. 118 PROFESSION OF A DYING NOVICE The text is the same as that issued by the S. Congrega-tion of Religious in 1912. Up to that time the terms "novitiate" and "probation," "novice" and "probationer" were used synonymously. In the Code, however, the terms "probation" and "probationer" have been omitted in favor of "novitiate" and "novice", which are used exclusively to indicate those who hax;e been admitted to the period of trial preceding the religious profession. Canon 553 tells us that the novitiate begins with the reception of the habit, or in some other manner prescribed by the constitutions. This is what is meant here by beginning the novitiate or probation canonically. Postulants have not as yet begun their canon-ical novitiat.e; hence they are excluded from the privilege in question. Such is the opinion followed in practice by the S. Congregation of Religious. 2. That the superior who admits the novice or proba-tioner to the pro[ession or consecration or promise mag be, not onlg the respective major superior to whom this power belongs bg reason of the constitutions, but also the actual superior of the monasterg or novitiate or house of proba-tion, or a delegate of ang one of these superiors. Under normal' circumstances only the superior indi-cated in the constitutions can admit a novice to the profes-sion of vows. UsuallTthis power is reserved by the consti-tutions either to the superior general or to major superiors such as provincials~or their equivalent. In the case of the novice who is at the point o.f death, the local superiorof the monastery or no;gitiate house also has this power. If time permits, however, it would seem proper to refer the case t~ the major superior. To admit to profession means to give the novice permission to make his profession. The superior who does so in the case of a novice at the point of death does ¯ not need to .refer the case to his. council or to the chapter. 119 ADAM C. ELLIS Even though the dying novice be outside the monastery or novitiate house, in a hospital or sanatorium, for instance, he may be admitted to his profession, so long as .he is a canonical novice. Superiors may delegate their power of admitting the dying novice to profession, either to some other member of their institute, or to any other religious or priest, e.g. to the superior or to the chaplain of a hospital. 3. That the formula of profession or consecration or promise shall be that in use in the institute outside the case of sickness; and the vows, if taken, shall be made without determination of time or of perpetuitg. The ordinary formula of the vows, consecration, or promise is to be used, without any reference to time. There-fore such terms as: "for three years," "for ever," "for my entire life," are to be omitted. 4. That the novice who made such a profession or con-secration or promise shall share in all the indulgences, suf-frages, and other graces which the trulg professed religious receive at death; the dging novice is moreover mercifultg granted in the Lord the remission of all his sins in the form of a plenarg indulgence. This provision of the original decree of Pius X has been incorporated into .the Code in canon 567, except for the plenary indulgence. Hence every novice shares in all the privileges and spiritual graces granted to his institute, and if he dies, even though he does not make the profession in question, he has a right to the same suffrage.s which are pre.: scribed for the professed. If the novice does make his pro-fession before death, he receives a plenary indulgence granted him by the Holy See. This plenary indulgence is enjoyed only at the moment of death, since Pius V expressly states this, and Plus X intended to grant this favor in the same way in which it was originally granted. 120 PROFESSION OF A DYING NOVICE 5. That this profession or consec?ation or promise shall have no effect other than to confer the graces' (favors) men-tioned in the precedingonumber. Hence: (A) If the no~2ice 6r probationer dies intestate after ~uch 'a profession or con-secration or promise, the institute cannot lay claim .to any of the property or rights which belonged to him. (B) If the novice recovers before the expiration, of the time required for his, noviceship or pr.obation, he shall be in exactly the same condition as if he had made no profession. Accord- .inglg : a) he may freetg return to the world if he wishes to do so; b) superiors can dismiss him; c) he must fill out the entire time prescribed in each institute for the novitiate or probation, even though it eJcceed one year; d) at the expira-tion of this time, if he perseveres, the novice must make a new profession or consecration or promise. ¯ The profession made by the novice at the hour of death is personal 'and conditional. If ,the novice dies, he enters eternity as-a true religious, and receivesthe same merit as any other religious by reason of his corisecration of himself to God. " I.f he recovers, the profession made has no, canoni-cal effect whatsoever. The novice is in the same condition as he was before be .fell ill, and consequently, he, on his part, must fulfill .all the requirements of the law for his subse-quent profession. He is canonically free to leave.the novi-tiate at any time, if he so desires: Superiors, on their part, may dismiss him as they may dismiss any other novic~. The entire purpose of allowing a novice to make his profession at the hour of death is to give him the spiritual consolation of dying as a religious. Finally, the Sacred Congregation declares that there is no objection to inserting the foregoing provision in consti-tutions of orders and congregations, if the institutes them-selves ask to do so~ i21 ADAM C. ELLIS The use of the privilege contained in the declaration of the S: Congregation given above does not depend upon its being inserted in the constitutions of an institute. All dying ¯ ~novices may be allowed the use of the privilege, even though it is not contained in the constitutions of their institute. But if the institute wishes to insert the provisions of this instruc-tion in its constitutions, it must first obtain the permission of the S. Congregation of Religious, which will grant it for the asking. PAMPHLET REVIEWS ~ We have received several booklets that are deserving of special notice in a periodical such as ours. A Novena to St. Francis Xavier is a series of reflections on salva-tion and missionary work, written especially for children. The Wag of the Cross, by a Maryknoll Missionary, is a manual for the Stations which is particularly interesting because the illustrations are artistic woodcuts representing the characters of the Passion as Chinese. For information about the booklets, write to The Maryknoll Bookshelf, Maryknoll P.O., New York. A Saintly Shepherd of Souls is a pamphlet life of the Venerable John Neumann, C.SS.R., the fourth Bishop of Philadelphia. Itcon-tains 47 pages of interesting and inspiring facts. The author is the Reverend Albert Waible, C.SS.R., Vice-Postulator ofthe cause of the Venerable Neumann. The pamphlet may be procured from the Mis-sion Church Press, 1545 Tremont St., Boston, Mass. 5 cents a copy: $3.50 per hundred. Besides the foregoing, we have received two booklets by the Right Reverend Raphael J. Markham, S.T.D. : Apostolate to Assist Dying Non-Catholics; and Apostolate of Prayer for S~roinarians. We hope to treat Monsignor Markham's messages at some length in future issues of THE REVIEW. 122 I eligious and 0t: he Decalogue Gerald Kelly, S,J. I1| T IS the imperative duty of the pastor to give his days I and nights to the consideration of it (the Decalogue) : and to this he should be prompted by a desire not only to regulate his own life by its precepts, but also to instruct in the law of God th~ people committed to his care." These very strong words are quoted from the most authoritative of all catechisms, Tl~e Catechism of the Council of Trent, (also called The Ro~an Catechism). The injunction is, of course, directed to pastors of souls: but it scarcely need be pointed out howap ipropr¯iate it is for all religious, even though they be n0~ pastors, or even priests. The per-sonal reason is applid~ble to all of us; the fact that we have embraced the life of t,he Counsels does not exempt us from a careful observance of: the Commandments, The apostolic reason is also apphc,able to a very large percentage of us. Comparatively few of us.are not called upon at one time or another to:give catechetical instruction. I. Content of the Decalogue One may state, therefore, without fear of contradic-tion that religious should study and meditate over the Commandments of God. But a further question might well be asked: What should they study? What ought they to know as an aid to their personal observance of the Deca-logue and as the proper and sufficient equipment for apos- ~tolic work, should they be called upon to catechize? ~Thi~s is an important practical question, and it can hardly be answered without a few preliminary remarks concerning the content, or subject-matter, of the Decalogue. 123 GERALD KELLY It is sometimes said that every Commandment, even though it be phrased negatively ("Thou shalt not") ,, really contains two sides, an affirmative and a negative. It com-mands some things and forbids Others. This statement is a step in the right direction. It helps to counteract a purely negative attitude toward God's law. But, though a step in the right direction, the statement does not go far enough. It stil! leaves the Commandments difficult to explain. It is, perhaps, better to say that each Commandment, even though phrased in a purely negative manner, really does three things: First, it indicates a whole field of virtuous acts which it is both natural and becoming for a human being to perform; secondly, it commands certain minimum essentials of.virtue necessary for preserving the dignity of a o human being; and thirdly, it forbids certain thoughts and acts which either mar or destroy thebeauty of human nature. In subsequent issues of~this REVIEW we shall give thor-ough explanations of these Various aspects of the Com-mandments., For the present purpose, each aspect can be illustrated by a brief reference to the First Commandment. At the beginning of the Decalogue, we find the expres-sion: "I am the Lord, thy God." This is rather the foun-dation of the Commandments than a part of any one of them. It expresses a great and fundamental truth from which the Commandments flow in logical,' natural sequence. Itpresents us with a sublime picture of reality.~ On the one hand is God, almighty, eternal, a being 0f supreme and infinite excellence, and the Creator of the world; on the other hand is man; a creature endowed with intellect and free will, produced entirely by God and depending absolutely on God for all the good that he is or has or does. One who appreciates this basic relationship between 124 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE man and God will not find it difficult to conclude that man ought to acknowledge his. relationship. A whole-souled devotion to his Creator is a good thing for man; and-any: acts by which he can honor God are good and appropriate for him. Fit expressions of his place with referenc~ to God are such things as adoration, the prayer of petition,~ praise, or thanksgiving. If God should speak to him, man should listen reverently and should place the most absolute faith in His word and the most unhesitating trust in His promises and in His power, and so forth. Thus, even the first glance at the reality of God and man, shows a whole field of per-fection that it is appropriate for man to cultivate. That is What is mean~ by saying that each Commandment ir~dicates a sphere of virtuous acts that it is natural and becoming fdr man to perform. From the point of view of mere appro-priateness, there is no limit to this sphere of action; the more frequently and the more fervently man can thus honor God, the better it is, The only actual limit is man's small capacity and the fact that his other needs and duties in life must necessarily prevent him from spending his entire time in explicit acts of worship. Realizing now the fitness of man's worshipping God, We come to the Second point. Are all of these acts of wor-ship optional for man, or are some of them obligatory? The very law of nature answers the question. Man must per-form some of these acts of virtue; without some worship of God, he fails to live up to the dignity of his created human nature. So this is the second thing that the Commandment does: it prescribes the minimum essentials of virtue in this field, some acts of adoration, some prayer, and so forth. Finally, we come logically to the third aspect. If acts of divine worship are appropriate for human nature, and certain acts are obligatory, it follows that any acts which conflict with~ this fundamental law of worship are 125 GERALD KELLY unworthy of man. Thus, he is forbidden to give to a crea-ture the honor belonging uniquely to God, forbidden to worship God in an unbecoming manner. These prohibi- ¯tio, s form an important part of the Commandment, bht by no means the principal part of it. They are not even understood without some reference to the positive side. The foregoing brief analysis of the First Commandment illustrates the statement that each Commandment may-be considered under three heads: the virtue indicated; the vir-tuous acts.prescribed; and the vicious acts t:orbidden. With this divisidn clearly in mind, we are now in a position to take up the question: what should a religious study in regard to the Decalogue? II. What a Religious Should Know To reverse the order and begin with the prohibitions, all religious should have a clear, well-defined knowledge of those things in which they themselves are likely to be tempted. They should know what precisely is forbidden, and to what extent it is forbidden, .that is, whether a viola-tion would be a mortal or a venial sin. This degree of knowledge is necessary for personal peace of conscience, and it should be imparted bymeans of adequate instruction. The policy of leaving all personal perplexities of conscience to be solved by an occasional word from a confessor is not a sound one. Very often a person who has not received ade-quate instruction is unable to express his difficulty to the confessor or unable to appreciatethe congessor's advice, and this sometimes leads to long periods of racking and entirely needless doubt. Moreover, the policy of hedging when explaining moral obligations to religious, of confusing ascetical norms with moral norms, slight obligations with serious obligations, is also difficult to justify. It breeds false consciences and often enough is the cause of scruples. 126 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE Of course, it may be said that many of the prohibitions of the Decalogue will not affect religious: they will be seldom or never tempted in some matters. However, there is the further fact that a large percentage of our religious do give catechetical instruction on the Commandments. Now, even the small Baltimore Catechism, treating of the First Commandment, lists suchforbidden things as these: making use of spells and charms; belief in dreams, spiritists. and fortune-tellers: presumption; despair. The ability to teach the First Commandment requires that one have a. dear, soundly-theologicalknowledge of~ what constitutes sin in these matters. And the ability to teach the other Commandments requires, among other things, that one know the difference bdtween such things as blasphemy, cursing, and profane words; between just anger and inex-cusable anger; between thoughts and actions which are directly against purity and thoughts and actions which are merely dangerous to purity. A teacher should know these differences, should know also what makes a sin of injustice, disobedience, hatred: and when such sins are venial, when mortal. One does nbt get these notions by intuition: nor do the simple ,definitions of the c~itechism furnish a sufficient knowledge fo~? the teacher, inregard to almost; every sin listed here, great theologians draw sharp distinctions. These distinctions can be known only when they are studied and competently explaine& As fbr the things prescribed by the Commandments, the same:limits may be set for the minimum essentials of knowledge demanded of the' religious. He should know precisely what is commanded, and. whether itis commanded under pain of serious or Venial sin. He should know these things f0i his own peace of conscience; he should know them as a necessfiry background for his teaching, in case he should ,be called upon to instruct others ~,' i27" GERALD KELLY All this is not intended to carry the inference that reli-gious need a confessor's knowledge of the Decalogue. Nor is it even insinuated that teachers of the catechism should give their pupils complete descriptions of all the sins listed in the catechism or all the subtle distinctions that can be made between mortal and venial sin. But religious should know what is necessary for their own peace of conscience, as well as those things that form a necessary background for giving catechetical instruction, so that, when called upon for an explanation, they can give something that is simple and adapted to the listener and, above all, that they may avoid giving inaccurate answers that imbed themselves into a young soul like a malignant germ and that breed what eventually becomes a practically incurable case of scruples. Strictly speaking, the Commandments, in the sense of Divine Laws imposing moral obligations under pain of sin, consist only in preceptsand prohibitions~ Yet the study of the Commandments should not be limited to such things. These obligations cannot be correc~tly understood without some appreciation of what has been called the first aspect of the Commandments, that is, the virtues indicated by them, For how is. one to perceive the reason why he must worsbilo at some time and in some manner, unless he first realizes that the worship of God is a good and beauti-ful thing in itself? How is one to understand the obliga-tion of obedience, unless he first perceives the inherent good-ness of respect for legitimate authority? How is one to appreciate the obligations of chastity unless he first, becomes conscious of the dignity and beauty of the divine plan of paternity and family life, of which chastity is the guardian? Evidently, for th~ religious themselves, this first and eminently positive phase of the Comma'ndments is a decid-edly salutary subject of study and meditation. They may have relatively few temptations to violate them; but they 128 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE have abundant oppbrtunities for living them and for loving them. Surely the refrain of the ll8th Psalm, "O Lord, how have I loved Thy law," should fill the soul of every-one dedicated to the service of God. It ~should lighten an'd make joyous the burden of his own obligations; it should communicate inspiration tO those with whom he exercises his apostolate. And the,people with whom we deal are sadly in need of inspiration; it is surprising how many of them, even ~he good people, have a decidedly negative and uninspired attitude towards the Commandments. All of us are, no doubt, familiar with the following typical scene of boy life. ~We can call the boy 3ohn, aged ten. He has finished his supper and is paging somewhat listlessly through the newspaper. He has seen the comics and the sports page' so there is reall~r nothing in the paper to-interest him. Actually he is not perfectly at ease. One gloomy eye is straining toward his bedroom where certain evil things called schoolbooks await him, another gloomy eye is straining toward the' kitchen, whence his mother will presently emerge' and order him to betake himself to those same sctiool books. (There are still some mothers like that.) Suddenly he h~ars welcome sounds. He rushes to the door and peers Out. Yes, it's "the gang" getting ready for an evening game. No more gloom in his eyes now; ~hey are all eagerness. ' "Morn," he calls, "How about letting me go out and play just one game? I'll be back in a little while." "No, 3ohn," comes the firm answer. "You've had plenty of platy today. It's time to study now, so get to your books." No amount of coaxing prevails over his mother's firm-ness, and finally 3ohn turns from the door. But the bright-ness is gone again from his eyes. Heavy feet, heavy heart, 129 GERALD KELLY slumping shoulders: he is the picture of youthful misery as he trudges his way from the sounds of boyish delight and slumps down into a chair over the dreaded school books. "She's a good mother," would run his thoughts translated into words, "but she doesn't understand. Otherwise she wouldn't make it so hard." That little drama of the child-world exemplifies the negative attitude of many even good people toward the Commandments. They find in the Commandments only ten negations of comfort and ease and content, ten privations of pleasure and freedom. They turn away from these for-bidden pleasures with a heavy Step and a heavy heart. They find no thrill in the keeping of the Commandments: often they seem to have a sneaking suspicion that God, like 3ohn's mother, just doesn't understand: otherwise He -would not make it so hard. In the various moral crises of life they overcome themselves, they keep the law, but even their victories are dulled by that boy-like heaviness of soul. They will be faithful, cost what it may: but the only joy of it lies in the subsequent good conscience. They deny them-selves, they repress themselves, and in these conflicts with self, it never occurs to them to lift up their heads and lighten their hearts with the thought that in thus repressing their lower selves they are really expressing their better selves. If possible, we should prevent or change this negative attitude. But we shall hardly do this unless we ourselves appreciate the beauty of God's law. The Roraar~ Cate-chism suggests several motives calculated to inspire a love of the Decalogue, and in particular it. stresses the fact that the observance of the moral law "proclaims more eloquently the .glory and the majesty of God than even the celestial bodies, which by their beauty and order excite the admira-tion of the most barbarous nations and compel them to acknowledge and proclaim the glory, the wisdom, and the 130 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE power, of the Creator arid Architect of the universe." These solemn words touch on something fundamental to the Commandments: their relation to the glory of God. This theme is too large for fuli~ treatmen~ here. " The next section of this article contains a merely partial development of it, an indication of one kind of prayerful reflection that may serve to increase our appreciation of the Decalogue as a code of moral beauty. III. The Decalogue and Moral Beautg The observance of the Decalogue gives God great glory. In order to avoid theological technicalities in expanding on this motive, it will not be out of place for us to indul'ge in. the following bit of reverent fantasy. Imagine you have a pair of wings that will take yo~u back through time'. Swiftly you pass the century marks, the nineteenth, eighteenth., first., on into the ages before Christ, before Moses, until at last you come to the dividing line between time and eternity. You cross that line, then you turn back and rub it out; and, though it all seems quite absurd and impossible, you are alone with God before the creation of the world! You are alone with God, and you have this problem ~to solve: Why might God create the world? Remember that God is an intelligent being, and if He is to create, He must have a reason; yes, and a reason that is worthy of Himself. You are looking for that reason. Where shall you look for this reason for creating? Only in God; nothing else exists. So you must look intently upon God; you must, so to speak, search the depths of God for some possible reason for the existence of creatures. Your first search, though filled with wonders, is a dis-appointment. ,Here in God is all perfection in an infinite degree; here is the marvelous inner life, the Blessed Trinity. revealed: the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, infinitely 131 GERALD KELLY happy and blessed in Their possession of the Divine Essence and of One Another. But this is no reason for creating; this is rather a reason for not creating. There appears to be neither need, 'nor use, nor even the possibility of any other being. So you shake your head and turn away; you have not solved the riddle of creation. But look again, look deeper, as it were; and in- the clear placid ocean of Divine perfection you begin to see-the pat-terns of a limitless number of tiny beings, none of them equal to God, but each of them reflecting something of God. Here is one of the vast treasures of the Divinity, the tremen-dous possibility of s~arino His loveliness. Here you see the types of a great variety of beings, each of which God could bring into existence, each of which in its own way and according to its own limited capacity,, could manifest some-thing of the Divine Perfection. You have solved the riddle; you have discovered a reason for creation worthy of God Himself. It is His own Goodness which is, so to speak, a fountain of perfection that He can share with others, without loss to Himself. Thus, our little trip of fantasy has brought us face to face with the truth solemnly defined by the Vatican Council, that God created the world, not to acquire anything for Him-self or to increase His own perfection; but simply to com-municate it to otl~ers. This sublime truth, the object of our fantastic journey into the creative mind of God is intimately associated with the glory that man gives to God by the observance of the Commandments. If we return now from the mind of God into the realm of creatures, we na~turally expect to find that every creature, be it tiny, be it great; is a finite.expression of God, a reflection of some divine perfection. The drop of water, the grain of sand, the flower in the field, the family kitten, the sun, the moon, the stars, the entire universe-- 132 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE each and all of these things show forth in some way the beauty, the loveliness, the majesty .of God. And they do this simply/~ beir~g tt~emseloes, by being faithful copies of~ the original masterpiece hidden within the depths of God. Everything in the world reflects God's goodness, and thus gives God glory, by following the law of its nature. Even those who never think of God are constantlT recognizing this law of the nature of things in their search for comfort and beauty and goodness. The cook enters her kitchen and bakes a cake that makes one's mouth ,water. She does not do this by seizing a. number of things at ran-dom, kneading them into some kind of dough, and tossing the mixture into the oven. She follows a definite recipe, and this recipe is only a formula worked out on the prin~ ciple that certain things react in a certain way with other things and produce a definite result. The engineer goes into his laboratory and plans a stream-lined train or some elec-trical marvel. He is searching for the laws that God wrote into the materials. The physical culturist who specializes in the body beautiful simply makes use of God's laws of sound and symmetrical bodies. The orchestra, playing a symphony that almost transports one into another world, follows the same notes that once burned through the brain of the composer. The composer is called a creator, yet he has not created. The music is also God's creature; the com-poser merely discovered .and applied the laws of harmony to produce this thing of entrancing beauty. So it is all through nature, true beauty is achieved by having things act according to their natures. That law is apparent in the simplest and in the grandest things---in the cake, in the symphony, in the splendors of the heavens. And the same law holds for man's contribution to the beauty of the universe; he must follow the law of his na-ture, the Decalogue. Man's duty and privilege is to sing 133 . GERALD KELLY unto God a glorious hymn of praise; the notes are the Com-mandments. Following these notes faithfully; he constantly ¯ raises toward heaven a sweet-toned benedicite which far ,surpasses any human composition. His unique contribu-tion to the beauty of the universe is moral beauty, and this, as The Roman Catechism points out, excels all the splen-dors of the irrational world. We all know something of the beauty of a single human soul in which the divine likeness is unblemished by sin. What if all souls were like that; what if all men at all times and in all places observed the Commandments of God! The combined interior beauty of all those souis 'would be indescribable; and exteriorly also the world would be a paradise. The one true God would be worshipped every-where according to His will; His holy name would be sounded only in reverence; all authority, as it comes from Him, would be pledged to Him .and exercised only according to His wise laws; parents would be devoted to their children, and children to their parents; human life and property and honor would be sacred;~ purity and marital fidelity would be everywhere esteemed. No idolatry, no persecutions, no blasphemies, no murder, no thefts, no .unjust. wages,, no obscenity, no backbiting or slander, no wars, no class conflict!! We could close our jails, divorce courts, reform schools; we could do away with burglar alarms and safes. There would be noarmaments to con-sume our capital, no death-weapons to slay our youth. A picture such as this reminds one of the Garden of Eden. Of course, when we view the moral turmoil that actually exists, we must label such a picture another fantasy. Yet it is .well for us to contemplate it, unreal though it happens to be; for it shows us the beauty and harmony the Com-mandments are supposed to produce. It shows us what the world could be, if man, like the irrational things, lived up 134 THE STUDY OF THE DECALOGUE to his nature. In the last section of this article, some considerations were offered that may help towards an appreciation of the Commandments as laws of moral beauty. Only the Deca-logue was mentioned exp!icitly, but for their personal meditations, religious might easily build upon that notion and see how all the laws that govern them are intended to bring out more sharply.some form of goodness. For in-stance, we know that God has given us not merely human natures, but super-natures; the life of Grace; and for pre-serving and developing this higher form of goodness He has supplemented the Decalogue with the laws of the super-natural life. The Church, legislating with authority from God, has given .us other laws, planned to make us good Catholics. The founders and foundresses of our religious societies, captivated by some particular form of Christlike-hess, have drawn up their constitutions with the aim of developing this Christlikeness in their followers. By the observance of these various laws, we can scale a tall pyramid of moral beauty. But we should ever keep in mind that at the base of this pyramid is the law that St. Augustine rightly called the foundation and epitome of all laws, the Decalogue. BOOKS RECEIVED (To be reviewed later.) MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. pan),. New York. THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. By John J. O'Connor. MacMillan Compan),. New York. FAST BY THE ROAD. B), John Mood),. The MacMillan Compan)'. York. PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS PERFECTIOI~L Brothers. Poughkeepsie, N. Y. By Gerald G, Walsh, S.J. The MacMillan Coat- The . New Marist 135 ook Reviews PROGRESS IN DIVINE UNION. By the R6~,erend Raoul Phs, S.J. Pp. 142. Translated from the French by Sister M. Bertlile and Sister iVl. St. Thomas, Sisters of Notre Dame, of Cleveland, Ohio. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1941. $1.S0. This little work of the well-known French ascetical writer treats cl~arly and forcefully of two. great means of making progress in union with God: namely, "generous self-conquest," and "the spirit of prayer." To the former, four chapters are devoted, each one devel-oping a major motive for self-conquest: self:preservation, expiation, imitation of our Lord, and redemption. If the redemptive process is to be completedby the Mystical Christ, that is, if more and more individual soul~ are actually to be brought to the divine life, then it is simply necessary that more and more good Chri.~tians, themselves already members, should make up in their persons what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ and thus put themselves into condition to enable others to enter that mystical incorporation or to grow in it. Christians need not only to be assimilated to Christ themselves and to be united with Him; they must go beyond this point and carry out the work of Christ in bringing others, as many as possible, to the saving knowledge and love of God. But self-conquest alone is not sufficient. To it must be added prayer, especially mental prayer, in it one learns "to experience in one's wh01e being the reality considered: the greatness of God, the immensity of His love, the infinite mercy of our Savior . the expiatory or redemptive pow. er of suffering, the incomparable price of life, or the splendor of deatfi." The work closes with a section on recollection and th~ continuous maintenance of union with God throughout all of one's occupations. No doubt this little book of Fr. Plus's xvill be much welcomed by the many for whom he has become a favorite devotional author:--G. A. ELLARD, S.,J. COLORED CATHOLICS IN THE UNITED STATES. By the Reverend John T. Gillard, S.S.J. Pp. x -f- 298. Josephlte Press, Baltimore, 1941. $3.00. All who are interested in, the Negro problem, whether from a purely scholarly or a practical point of view, will welcome this new 136 BOOK REVIEWS statistical study. Father Gillard is a well known authority on the Negro question. This, together with the care with which he has gathered his statistics and the caution with which he presents his findings, renders Colored Catholics in the United States a valuable reference book. It is not a new venture for Father Gillard. Rather it is an improvement and amplification of an earlier volume published in 1929. The book contains a pleasant mixture of facts and comment. The facts were gathered from the dioceses of the United States and the numerous organized enterprises that are predominantly Negro, and are presented in convenient tables. They cover: the Colored Catholic population according to dioceses, sections, states; free colored, slave, and white population for Southern and Northern Louisiana for the years 1810 and 1860; capacity of Negro Catholic churches in Louisi. ana in 1860; a scholarly estimate of the number of Negro Catholics in the United States at the time of emancipation; and statistics, on the churches, schools, missions, priests, nuns, and welfare works dedicated to Colored Catholics. Throughout the book Father Gillard contrasts the condition of the various fields of work in the past with the present, and offers some explanation of the losses and gains. He gives a full treatment of the difficult problems of indifference, prejudice, and migration. Since this book is something of the nature of an almanac, it is unfortunate that it is not available in an inexpensive paper-bound edition. While there is need of a well-bound edition for schools and libraries, a paper-covered copy would be convenient on the desk of every student of the race problem or worker in any of the many fields of endeavor for the betterment of the Colored race. This is especially true since the available census statistics on Colored Catholics are admittedly inaccurate.--J. T. WHITE, 8.3. [NOTE: Our readers are very likely aware of the fact that Father Gillard died quite unexpe.ctedly since this book review was written, mED.] ONE INCH OF SPLENDOR. By Sister Maw Rosalla of Ma~knoll. Pp. 90. Field Afar Press, New York, 1941. $1.00. It is good for us all to realize that the Catholic Church is truly catholic. This is one of the effects of this book. Here is a tale of old China, a whitened harvest field of souls crying for reapers. It is into this distant land that the Sisters of Maryknoll carry the torch of faith. ¯. 137 BOOK REVIEWS We go at once into the home of Chinese peasants, we see the women fingering and studying the crucifix on the Sisters' habits. The Sisters go on from village to village0 from that of Long Sand Bar to Dangerous Rapids and farther to the village of the Fr~igrance of. the Cinnamon Tree. And everywhere, into both Catholic and pagan homes, they bring the good news, the truth of the Lord of Heaven. In towns, far removed from priest and chapel, they form Rosary Sodalities which will meet on Sunday for the benefit of those unable to travel the 19ng distance to the mission church. Everywhere they recruit members for the Study-the-Doctrine- Time, the catechumenate, to be held within a few months at Rosary Convent. All their work is directed towards this goal f to get pagans to come to this instructiori class. Then, at the convent, during forty days, intensive instruction is given the neophytes. We see old women, young children, all trying to master the fundamentals of our religion. Red marks appear on brown foreheads, as the long nails of Chinese fingers bruise the skin in their effort to trace the sign of the cross. Finally, the examinations are held and the three score and odd pagans are baptized. The Church has grown another inch irr China. This book is recommended for convent community reading. Readers will find that the problems of missionary Sisters are not altogether different from those which they themselves experience. And a greater love for our Faith, which is so eagerly embraced by the Chinese, should spring up in the soul. An'inspiring oneness will.be experienced with these courageous Sisters who have left home, with all the word means, to bring light where before there had been 0nly darknes~.--M. J. DONNELLY, S.~I'. LITURGICAL WORSHIP. By ~1. A. Jungmann, S,J. Translated by a monk of St. John's Abbey, Collegeville: foreword by Rt. Ray. Alculn Deufsch, ¯ Abbot of Collecjeville. Pp.xil -k 141. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York. 1941. $1.2S. This is a very precious little book, the best in its field known to the reviewer, and, though meant in~fiist instance for priests, both in subject-matter and in presentation, it' should appeal to all religious as Christians and as worshippers of God. In the late Summer of 1938 the Carffsianam at Innsbruck held an institute for priests on "The Theology of Today," at which '~the 138 BOOK REVIEW8 central topic of discussion was the matter of giving a mor~ forceful and dynamic expression to'abstract theological truths." Father 3ung-mann's lectures there delivered, although advanced by the author as something of a rough sketch, were demanded for publication, The German original appeared, in consequence, in 1939. The present reviewer has had the work within arm's length since then and has read it, not once or twice, but six or seven times. No author, so it seemed, had so clearly "isolated" the essentials of Christian worship, none so felicitously outlined the basic laws of development inherent in the very nature of theliturgy. Whether one is interested in some small point" of the present stiucture of the Office, or concerned with the place of the vernacular in modern Dialog Mass, the ultimate a'nswer, illustrated, by historical facts and instances, was almost sure to be indicated in 2ungmann's slender book. It is a great boon to have this now. made available in the.incomparably wider circles of the English-language public. One can list in a moment the themes handled in the volume, but only familiarity with the book itself can convey an idea of how much light is shed on a whole array of pointsall to the fore in the current liturgical movement. Starting with the elemental definition, "Liturgy is the public worship of the Church," the author with skill, and logic, and tact, shows the shortcomings of other definitions, while he draws out the unsuspected depths contained in the formula defended. The second chapter, "In Whom is the Liturgy Reposed?," deals with priesthood, the Priesthood of Christ in Head and members, and the relation of.the ministerial priesthood of Holy Orders towards both Head' and members. "Two Tendencies" are briefly sketched in Chapter Three, that of liturgy toward the beautiful and that of liturgy toward popular appeal. In tracing the working out of these tendencies, a good deal of basic religious psychology is mirrored in miniature. Chapter Four is the kernel of the book: it deals With the Ground- Plan, that worship (ideally) begins with a reading, which is followed by a song, then prayer by the people, and finally, prayer by the priest. In the remaining chapters each of these elements is handled at greater length by itself: The Reading (V), The Singing .(VI), The Prgyer of the People (VII), and The Prayer of the Priest (VIII). Each chapter is scholarly, each chapter is valuable, and their cumulative effect is irresistible. 139 ¯ BOOK. R

OCTOBER, J899 ooTheoo Gettysburg CONTENTS. The Character of Macbeth 1S3 Success in Business 160 A Mirror's Reflections 161 Pen Sketches from Nature 163 Editor's Desk, 168 College Y. M. C. A 169 Two Mischievous Fallacies in Education 172 Why we should be True and Honest 17S The Relation of Commerce to Missions 176 The United States as a Coloniz-ing Nation 179 Advantage of Studying the Classics 182 Athletics 186 G'SURG C. LIB. DUPLICATE FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to e Jo I. Wi M Hovf CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. J. H. Myers Fashionable Tailor, Clothier and Gents' Furnisher. The best place in town to have your Cloth-ing- made to order. All workmanship and Trimmings guaranteed. No charge for re-pairs and pressing for one year. Dyeing and Repairing a specialty. Ready-made Clothing the largest stock in town. Up-to-date styles. Bicycle Suits and Breeches Headquarters. 11 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. EDGAR 5. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. translations Literal—Interlinear—135 Volume* Dictionaries German, French, Italian, Spanish Latin, Greek tutorial Series JOO vnls. specially designed for coaching i^i exams, in all college studies Binds & noble Sehoolbooks of all Publishers 4 Cooper Institute, NewYork City 1 R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. JOHN M. MINNIGH, Confectionery, lee, • andIee Create Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postojjice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Vol. VIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1899. No. S Alumni Editor. REV. F. D. GARLAND. Editor-in-Chief. J. FRANK HEILMAN, '00. Assistant Editors. LDTHEK A. WEIGLE, '00. S. A. VAN ORMER, '01. Business Manager, Assistant Business Manager. JOHN K. HAMACHER, '00. CLARENCE MOORE, '02. Advisory Board. PROK. 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 Fifteen Cents. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE CHARACTER OF MACBETH. [FIRST GIES PRIZE ESSAY.] SHAKESPEARE was not only the greatest po.et and drama-tist that the world has known, but also a psychologist in every phase of human thought and action. Character has been nowhere more perfectly depicted than in many of his plays, and his art is most clearly seen in the painting of a man's soul through his words. This is especially exemplified in many of his tragedies. There is a wealth of psychological study in the char-acters of Hamlet, the brilliant student and noble prince whose life is wrecked by revenge; of Othello, the high-minded warrior whose soul is racked by jealousy; of Macbeth, the brave general who attained a throne, "In blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er." 154 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Hitherto Macbeth has been thought of as a man of weak reso-lution who was led astray by the dominant will of a wicked wife. This opinion has been mainly due to the fact that for years the only powerful rendering of the part of Lady Macbeth was that of Mrs. Siddons, whose strong personality easily lent itself to such an interpretation, while the only objections were raised now and then in a scholarly treatise which never reached the public. But several years ago Sir Henry Irving and Miss Ellen Terry pre-sented the play before American audiences in an entirely new in-terpretation, which at first surprised the theatre-going world, but eventually won its approbation. Under their treatment, Macbeth became, next to Iago, the worst of Shakespeare's villains, a man who brought about not only his own but his wife's moral down-fall. An impartial investigation of the text of the play will clearly show which of these views is correct. It may be well to begin, as the play does, with the objective element in Macbeth's soul, for it will show more distinctly the characteristics of the subjective. Macbeth is at first seen as the brave general. "Bellona's bridegroom lapp'd in proof," who successfully fought his country's enemies, winning glory for himself and his king. This quality of physical courage is in truth one which is part of Macbeth's real character. His por-trait does not lack in valor, from the first, when "brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name) Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion, carv'd out his passage, Till he fac'd the slave ; Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements," till the last, when, betrayed by every portent which the witches had given him, he sees the end to be inevitable, yet plunges into battle with Macduff. "I will not yield. ***** Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane And thou oppos'd, be of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield : lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be he that first cries, 'Hold, enough.' " THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 155 Another objective view of his character is that of his wife her-self: "Yet do I fear thy nature ; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way." Bearing these two views of his character in mind, the student is prepared to pass unbiased judgment on the subjective, the real ele-ments of Macbeth's soul, as seen in the text itself. The first fact which may be established is that he had thought of murdering Duncan before meeting with the witches. Macbeth is not a good man fallen under the spell of witch-craft, which im-pels him to his bloody deeds. The first suggestion of murder comes from him soon after the approach of Ross and Angus: "Why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair * * * * My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical." Murder had been mentioned by no one—not even the witches— up to this time, and the prophecies of the witches were not such as to encourage or arouse the thought. They addressed him as Glamis, Cawdor, and "King that shalt be." The first he was by his father Sinel's death. With regard to the second: he was returning from a victory over the traitorous Thane of Cawdor, and it was in accordance with the customs of the time that the forfeited estates and title should be bestowed upon the victor. With regard to the last: Macbeth was next in succession to Dun-can, being his fiist cousin, and next of kin who was of age, as Malcolm and Donalbain were minors. His chance of becoming king was so apparent that the prophecy did not surprise the loyal and honest Banquo: "Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair?" It was but natural for Macbeth to dream of kingship, but there was no need of crime to attain it. But one reason can be as-signed for the tumult which the witches aroused in Macbeth's mind—his former thought of murder. But we may go further: it is clearly stated that he had broached the subject to his wife before this occasion. When Duncan is in his castle, after he has definitely made up his mind to commit the murder, he tells her that he will not go on, and she replies: I56 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. " What beast was't then That made you break this enterprise to me ? » * * * Nor time nor place, Did then adhere, and yet you would make both." There is nothing here to support the theory of a good man gone to ruin through the evil influence of his wife. Macbeth himself was the originator of the murderous plan. Assured by the early fulfilment of part of the prophecy, Mac-beth seems inclined to drop his thought of murder and let matters take their course. "If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me Without my stir." He seems content to await what may happen. But, unfortu-nately, the very thing happens within an hour which is needed to again arouse his wicked purpose. The king, happy in success, lavishly bestows honors, and among them, makes his son Prince of Cumberland, which was the title assumed by the successor to the throne. While this act of Duncan's was not constitutional, it was not objected to, and Macbeth sees two men in his way in-stead of one. The barrier between him and the throne is in-creasing. Accordingly, announcing that he will go before to make ready for the king at his castle, he adds: "Stars, hide your fires Let not light see my black and deep desires; The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see." This is the pivotal point in the play. Macbeth had a vague in-tention of murder before, but now he has made up his mind to commit the deed, and on that very night. Duncan's fate is set-tled. It is quite possible that Macbeth led his wife to believe that she was impelling him to the murder. It would be in entire ac-cord with the hypocrisy of his nature to bring about her moral downfall in such a way. Having made up his mind to the murder, he enters his castle. "Macbeth. My dearest love, Duncan comes here to-night. Lady Macbeth. And when goes hence? THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 157 Macbeth. To-morrow, as he purposes. Lady Macbeth. O ! never Shall sun that morrow see, Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters." And so later he says that he cannot do it, then yields little by little to her representations of the ease of the murder and of their escape from blame. We are impelled to pity this wife, who, guilty in her own ambition and assent to his plans, is dragged farther and farther down the road to ruin by the false dealing of her more wicked husband. This hypocrisy runs through the entire play and is manifested toward all, till his consciousness of his own false nature leads him to distrust everyone else. But the strangest element in Macbeth's character is seen in the beautiful imagery which he employs in pondering over the worst crimes. He loves to play with his conscience ; to set forth his crime pro and con; to conjure up its consequences, and he does it in language which one must admire. He is the greatest poet Shakespeare has shown the world and his genius rises as his deeds are darkest. He weighs and ponders the murder of Duncan and discusses it with his wife, until the phantom of his brain seems to be projected into space—he sees a dagger. For a moment he has a qualm of superstitious fear, but dismisses it quickly. "It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes." Then he promptly loses himself in rapt revery, and ushers in his crime with a beautiful soliloquy : "Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtained sleeper: witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings ; and withered murder, Alarumed by his sentinel the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it." Nothing can be more awful than this portrait of a murderer reveling in mental images of what he is about to do, and causing riteUMmmmiwimmMmiMMmMB 158 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. wave after wave of emotion to pass over his sensibility, for the sake of the intellectual pleasure it gives him; yet never swerving from his inexorable purpose. With what poetic beauty of lan-guage he later describes the scene in Duncan's room : "Here lay Duncan His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature For ruin's wasteful entrance." Absorbed with the pathetic words in which he has painted his picture, he never sees that they have caused his wife to faint. He is not the man to care for a matter of such small moment as his wife's feelings. He has been spoken of as a man of moral coward-ice. This may be true to some degree, but his fears were never more than superstitious, and never stood in the way of his pur-poses for an instant. He amply paid for any such weakness in his absolute lack of feeling. The influence of the supernatural upon Macbeth's course is a most interesting point of investigation. Was Macbeth responsible for his actions, or did the witches impel him to all he did? He certainly acted for himself in the beginning of his downward path. The first meeting with the witches contained nothing to compel into the course he took, but rather discouraged it. Banquo had as much reason as he to commit murder—even more, for the throne was promised to Macbeth himself, but to Banquo's descendants only. Had Banquo not been the loyal, honest soldier that he was, he would have planned death for both Duncan and Macbeth, that he might rule in person. Macbeth had only to wait, to become king honorably. But in his second consultation with the weird sisters, he surrenders himself to them; they advise him wrongly, and in his after deeds he seems impelled by a supernatural power— he has fallen into the net of Ate. In preparing the charm, Hecate tells us "He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear; And you all know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy." There are two side-lights thrown on the character of Macbeth which may be of interest. The first is the opinion of Hecate con-cerning him, expressed when she upbraids the witches for giving him any knowledge of the future: THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "How did you dare To trade and traffic with Macbeth, In riddles and affairs of death ; 159 All you have done Hath been but for a wayward son, Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do, Loves for his own ends." We must remember that this comes from a supernatural being, and, as such, must be Shakespeare's estimate of Macbeth's real character. The second is the hypothesis that Macbeth was the third mur-derer who took part in the slaying of Banquo. This is not plainly stated, but may be argued from several standpoints. So intelli-gent a man as Macbeth would hardly entrust such a thing to two parties who did not know one another ; the third man displays a most intimate knowledge of Banquo's affairs, and is most eager for the murder. It is he who brings complete instructions; who first hears Banquo's horses; he when the others wonder that they seem to be going away, explains what Banquo usually does, re-calling himself by the quickly uttered "so all men do;" he rec-ognizes Banquo; he demands why the light has been put out, and first notices the escape of Fleance. Macbeth was not at the ban-quet, for it was appointed for seven oclock : but, as the ghost ap-peared and the guests were sent away before it had really begun, and it was then midnight, it could not have begun before eleven. This leaves four hours to be accounted for, These facts, then, seem to prove that Macbeth was a man who was not content to command the_ murder of a faithful friend, to gratify his jealousy, but must do it with his own hands—in truth, murder incarnate. A poet of the highest intellectual power, who expressed his blackest deeds in the most beautiful language; a man who de-lighted in exploring every phase and consequence of his action, for the sake of the emotional waves which would pass over his soul; a man of great sensibility, but no feeling, who could weep at his own portrayal of his sins, yet never think of pausing in their committal; a selfish, hypocritical, cold-blooded villain, with the physical bravery of the devil himself, and just enough moral weakness to superstitiously shudder for a moment—what a soul-study is presented in Macbeth ! —L,. A. W., *00. i6o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. SUCCESS IN BUSINESS. ASUCCESSFUL business man exercises a great influence in a country, both morally and financially. The requisites for this success are many. To be success-fully engaged in financial business, the old saying applies very well, that, "you must drive your business, and never let your business drive you." To do this one must be punctual in fulfilling all business en-gagements, laying aside all else, and especially keep his mind away from all worldly pleasures, attending to business first, pleasure afterwards. One must have a foresight in his pecuniary affairs. His experience in his past business must teach him to look for-ward, as to how the market stands, whether it indicates an ad-vance or a decline. His experience will teach him how to judge the market to a great extent. Then he should not be forgetful as to the standing of his bank account, and a favorable one will generally add to his prospects of success. On comparing the two, the one who drives his business, and the other who lets his business drive him, we find a vast differ-ence. The one driven by his business never looks forward, and is always in the dark as to how he stands in his affairs, until the time is reached when it is too late to make the necessary changes, which if they had been made in time would have saved him from a financial distress. His creditors come on him and he is unable to make up a sum sufficient to pay them all and consequently be-comes bankrupt. The other man, driving his business, always keeps posted as to his financial condition and is always prompt in meeting all his business obligations, and therefore is respected by all the commu-nity and is happy and prosperous. At times circumstances arise which cripple a business man through no fault of his own. The successful man will rise above these, commence anew and build a second reputation. The un-successful man will sink down, prostrated by the storm and never will rise again in business life. To be successful morally one must show by his business trans-actions that he has the welfare of his patrons at heart, as well as his own financial success. The unsuccessful man is generally of the kind whose time is nearly all given up to idle pleasures for THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 161 his own amusement, and who cares not for the welfare of his pa-trons. He has for the most part no religious tendencies and con-sequently can not have any influence for the good in the locality in which he resides. But the successful man by his integrity wins the esteem and confidence of his patrons and associates. By his industry, energy and perseverance he sets a good example to those employed by him. He is generally a man who possesses some re-ligious tendencies, and experience teaches us that this is the most essential characteristic for success. Probably nothing can be given to prove this more forcibly than the fact that the most prominent business men in our coun-try to-day are industrious, energetic, persevering, and drive their business instead of allowing their business to drive them. —D., '00. A MIRROR'S REFLECTIONS. [SECOND GIES PRIZE ESSAY.] IT had been fitted into the marble mantlepiece years ago, when the house was built, that large square of beveled glass with its back-ground of mercury, and year by year it rested there in its place against the wall, with wide, unsleeping eyes, noting all that went on in the room. At first the only sight that met its astonished gaze was the blank, white wall opposite. That was when the house was new. But soon objects and persons appeared on the scene, to attract the attention of the observant mirror, when, the house completed, families moved in. For this was one of those large houses, built in great cities, for the accommodation of many families, and it fronted on a busy street where all day long numberless feet hurried to and fro, cars whizzed by, and carts and wagons rattled over the pavement. But of all this the mirror knew nothing. It could see only what was going on in its immediate vicinity. One day a dainty covering of pale blue and gold appeared on the bare wall opposite, and a graceful picture of St. Cecilia hung there. Chairs were scattered about, and the white keys of a piano shone in the glass. Some potted plants added to the beauty of a picture already pleasing to the mirror's curious eyes, but the sight that delighted it most was the vision of a happy face, peeping in a dozen times a day to arrange a curl or set a ribbon right. Some- 162 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. times a man's dark face bent over the woman's fair one, and formed a perfect picture, but only the mirror saw it. Once in awhile a third and smaller face appeared, and a pair of tiny hands were stretched to "catch the baby in the glass." These same pictures the mirror saw, day after day, and never tired of reflecting. But one day a new and strange sight greeted its eyes. Near the opposite wall stood a tiny white box, in which was hid the baby form, now cold and still, while over it pale flowers were strewn. No happy face peeped into the mirror in those days, and soon after the chairs and flowers disappeared, the room was left empty and desolate. But not for long could the mirror mourn over lost faces; new scenes came into its field of vision. Great heaps of books were piled up on a table against the opposite wall, and beneath the light of a green-shaded lamp a boy sat with his head resting on his hands. Often the mirror saw him thus, for hours at a time, turn-ing pages earnestly, and, all the while running restless fingers through his hair. Sometimes his head dropped down upon the table, and he fell fast asleep. Sometimes he got angry and threw a book across the room. Now and then a whole troop of boys came rushing past the mirror, pausing occasionally to adjust a tie, or part their hair exactly in the middle. How long the students came and went before its shining sur-face the mirror did not know,—but it seemed a long time. One day, however, the room was again deserted, the opposite wall a blank. And thus it remained for many a weary month, until the mirror grew tired of staring at the bare walls, and longed for the sight of a living face. At last it came, a gentle patient face, framed in snowy hair, a woman's face, yet one that seldom paused before the mirror's answering eyes, a face lined by suffering, yet deeply sweet. On the walls no pictures hung, no elegant bits of furniture brightened the room, just plain chairs, and a table on which stood a single red geranium plant. The woman seemed to be quite alone, except at long intervals, when a handsome, bold-faced man staggered by the wondering glass, and brought tears to the eyes of the sad mother. One night when a little lamp burned on the table, a still form was carried into the room by stranger-hands. Soon after that the opposite wall was blank again. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 163 Many years had passed, and the busy street was no longer fashionable as a residence. Well-to-do folk sought other parts of the city, and the poorer class took possession. This the mirror did not know, so it looked with startled eyes upon the troop of ragged little ones, who next sought shelter within range of its gleaming surface. Hungry-looking children they were, who played all day long with simple toys in the bare room, and at night crept softly into corners to hide from the eyes of a cruel man. But one evening as the shadows began to fall, and obscured the view of the mirror, a sudden tumult arose, the children ran hither and thither, some-thing crashed against the mantlepiece, a blow shivered the glass, and the mirror's reflections were ended. -A. R. W., '99. PEN SKETCHES FROM NATURE. [THIKD GIES PRIZE ESSAY.] I DO not wonder at the ancients who peopled the earth, sea and air with gods, and then lest some one should be omitted and offended, built altars to both the known and the unknown ones. For even to-day, with all our minute knowledge of nature and revelation, her mild moods fills the breasts of the most in-telligent with fear and awe. Clouds assume monstrous and fore-boding forms and go scurrying, like martial hosts, across the sky, or hang like smouldering mountains on the distant horizon, hurl-ing bolts of fire at each other the while they are lit up by lurid flames and are rolling forth volley upon volley of artillery, whose concussions shake the very earth. Nor is there less to marvel at, even if there is less to fear, when the rain comes down in cata-racts, when the whistling sleet drives swift and sharp, or when the crystalline snow silently changes the bare fields into acres of diamonds. To the ancients, all these agencies in nature were persons or represented personalities. Beautiful conceptions they were, in-deed; but how much grander are ours. We have studied cloud formation and movement; have discovered sufficient of the laws by which electricity acts to harness it for our use, and have di-vested all nature of the personal element. But though we have thus removed Heaven from our surroundings as we have emerged 164 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. from the infancy of our race, we have made it a far higher and nobler conception. In learning that God is not in the whirlwind, we have subordinated it as a manifestation of Him to that gen-eralized and centralized Force, which is all powerful to create and all sufficient to preserve in equipoise the energies which are continuously working in nature. Nature is no longer manifesta-tions of persons, but of a Person. * * * * A little knowledge of nature often reconciles us to workings which otherwise seem only destructive. Many a man whose buildings lie in ashes, the result of a "hot stroke" of lightning, questions the utility of lightning, and is disposed to attribute it to an angry God, useful only to Him as an instrument of revenge, even as the ancients placed the thunder-bolts in the hands of angry Zeus. The following fact sought to receive our consideration and help to reconcile us. The air which we breathe is a mixture of three gases, possessing no particular affinity for each other. They are continually being used up by animal and vegetable growth and from the same sources again given off free. In an unmixed condition they would not serve their purpose. The mixing is pro-moted by electric discharges, and knowing thoroughly how essen-tial this process is to vegetable and animal growth, and especially to one's own life, it is easier to be reconciled to temporary loss and even to suffering, than when one is ignorant of these workings of nature. Not so destructive are meteors. Only occasionally does one read of a house being crushed and a family destroyed by their fall. Of what use are they? Any one who has lived in a city whose atmosphere is foggy of mornings, will attribute the same to the smoke, and so it is. The air is capable of holding a great deal of moisture, and were it perfectly free from dust particles, very little of the moisture would be precipitated. A heavy dew would likely fall nightly, but no showers, though the air be al-ways damp and laden to the point of saturation. The little dust particles are helpful to the formation of drops of rain. Meteors are the chief source of this microscopic dust. Coming from way out in space, millions and millions of miles from us, cold as space, they make a start for the sun. However, some of them in their eagerness to start on their journey, do not calculate for our earth and the power she has of influencing small bodies, and coming too near, they get caught in the atmosphere and only oc- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 165 casionally does any such escape. Even if anyone does, it is only after it has been so singed by the friction of the winds that it is scarcely to be recognized again by its most intimate friends. Its path can be traced by its long trail of dust, a memento of its visit. These dust particles become the recruiting points of the invisible moisture and the clouds are formed, and when they fall as rain or snow they bring the dust with them. But there are generally more of these particles than the moisture can use up, so the little sunbeams use these in a game of hide and seek and dash in and out among them so swift and in such varied ways that all we can see is the region in which they play, which seems a large city of fairy palaces painted in orange and jasper and gold, and we wish their morning and evening play hours would last all the day. Science in its infancy saw only facts; it is now discovering re-lations, and more and more tracing all phenomena to a central force which is causal for all events and existences. In this uni-fying and classifying process, there are some points which must remain for some time yet on debatable ground. The exact line of demarcation between the plant and the animal kingdoms is not fixed; in the lowest orders they merge insensibly into each other. As we rise above these low forms, the differences are more marked and charasteristic, physically ; but we never reach a point where they are not dependent and related, virtually. Beyond my window is a field of clover. Odor and color at-tract the bee. The pollen and nectar gives him a double burden to wing hive-ward. Both these are essential to his life. Neither does the clover yield them without being blest in the giving. Unknowingly the bee fertilizes the ovary and the plant is perpet-uated. This is only one link in the great chain of united and de-pendent relations. The clover roots penetrate into the soil, and air and water follow, disintegrating rocks and forming soluble compounds of the inorganic elements. These latter cannot sup-port animal life; but transformed into clover, they become, through the agency of the bee, honey—delicious and wholesome; or, con-sumed by the herds, flesh—invigorating and sustaining. Thus does the thinking man discover that in thousands of ways are nature's forces united and working for the sustenance and happi-ness of him, who is the crown of her products, and the best ex-pression of earthly existence. IHH^HHHmm 166 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I remember as if 'twere yesterday, how, when a child, I was used to bend over little cone-shaped cavities in the soft soil under a thick-leaved tree or shelving rock and cry, "Rolly-bolly, come up your hole, come up your hole, come up your hole." I usually succeeded in getting "rolly-bolly" to respond, for soon the little grains of soil would move as though he were coming up. I never could get him to come clean out, though; and, angered at him on this account, would order him, "down your hole," or dig him out with a stick. I never once thought they had any other mo-tive for making pits or living than to come out when called unless they were stubborn. Alas, for all such childish fancies! I have since watched them and found that those are real treacherous pit-falls, formed with a malicious purpose,—to catch the innocent ants. And so voracious and cruel are these "rolly-bollies" that they deserve the name given them—ant-lion. The surest way to get them to come up is to throw a struggling ant into the little pit. The ant is at once conscious of its danger and immediately begins a pitiable and frantic effort to get up the incline. But the little grains of sand roll down beneath the struggling feet, and, trembling, sink into the treacherous quick-sands below at whose centre there is already a vigorous pushing up. Soon the ant is being helplessly pulled down by its leg into the dining room of its superior and hungry foe. You cruel rolly-bolly, what are you good for anyhow ? Do you do anything but kill the industrious ants ? What are you here for ? If rolly-bolly could answer I know he would say that life is as sweet to him as it is to the ant or to me. A sad and unpleasant law this seems at first: "And that a rose may breathe its breath, Something- must die." Humanity rebels against it. Man uses the power given him to exercise dominion over the earth, air, and sea, and even wages war against his kind, to prolong his little life which disease and death soon terminate. Could not God have peopled the earth with a limited number of immortal beings and prevented all this merciless warfare between kingdoms and races and species, and the shameful survival of the bloody strongest ? Doubtless it could have been done. But if the ant-lion and the ant could speak, they would likely prefer to live as they do, foes indeed, but each one enjoying life with all its dangers and uncertainties. And surely we can learn a lesson. The sum total of happiness is THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 167 greater when many enjoy life a short while that if a few should live always. It is our duty to live as long as nature permits, "to husband out life's taper to its close" ; to be unselfish for the sake of those who are living now; to be virtuous for the sake of those who shall live after us. Just as one meets with surprises in observing nature, finding unlooked for beauties and new adaptations, so there also await us disappointments. Birds, flowers and minerals which have been idealized by painter and poet are always disappointing when they are seen in reality, and this is especially true of those things which have been used as symbolic of the celestial and spiritual. St. John's description of the walls of the New Jerusalem is so sub-lime that one builds them of imaginary stones more exquisite than ever were found. For if built of our real amethyst, jasper and topaz, their combination would be exceedingly disappointing. But what better could be done ? Alone on Patmos, surrounded by rocks and sea and sky, conscious of the povetry of language and the inadequacy of terrestial objects as symbols, he fills in the picture with these colors, with a feeling identical to that expe-rienced when in the midst of the book-learned world he tells us, at the close of his beautiful gospel, that the world could not contain the books that should be written. These are only symbols. The music for the ears, the colors for the eyes will be such as hath never yet been conceived by the heart of man. # * # ^ There is but one way to Nature's soul, accessible to all ages and conditions ; it is found by those who love her with a sympa-thetic heart, for herself alone. The scholar who has habituated himself to scientific analysis of every object he meets, fails to se-cure that best knowledge of her tempers and strivings. A poor comforter indeed would he be who was so scientifically inclined as to think of the proportion of water and salts of sodium and potash in the tears of his weeping.friend. Is he any more worthy of Nature's confidence who sees in every bird an ornithological specimen, in every flower an addition to the herbarium, in every stone a mineral for his cabinet ? To see her best we must look at her sometimes with simple childlike eyes, even as we did when every object was for us a living personality. i68 T THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "Siisse, heilige Natur, Lass mich gehn auf deiner Spur, Leite mich an deiner Hand Wie ein Kind am Gangelband 1 Wenn ich dann ermiidet bin, Sink' ich dir am Busen hin, Athme siisse Himmelslust Hang-end an der Mutter Brust. Ach, wie wohl ist mir bei dir! Will dich lieben fii and ffir ! Lass mich gehn auf deiner Spur, Liisse, heilige Natur ! " —F. L. Stolberg. —W. B. C, '99. EDITOR'S DESK. HIS word from the MERCURY comes late but it is sincere: Welcome, thrice welcome to the Freshmen ! The Gies prize of seventy-five dollars has been offered again to the students of Gettysburg. The object of the generous and loyal alumnus who offers it is to develop literary talent among our students and to afford the best possible material for the MER-CURY. As this prize gives so fine a chance for a convenient pocket-full, every one with a spark of ability should compete. Since the number of students competing for the prize last year was small, of course the articles of value for the MERCURY were few. This prize money is divided between the three best contributors, into parts of thirty-five, twenty-five, and fifteen dollars. Last year the successful contributors were Luther A. Weigle, 'oo; Anna R. Welty, '99; and W. Bruce Carney, '99. The paramount object of an institution of learning is mental training and consequently one would suppose that those intending to enter such an institution would be influenced more by its facili-ties to develop mental power than by anything else. Yet such is by no means the case, for the high record of a college in ath-letics is found to be its best drawing card. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 169 Whether this incentive is one that friends of a college may be proud to use or whether it is disgraceful that superiority in con-tests of skill and physical strength should be made the basis of appeal to those desiring to enter college is not for us to answer. What we must meet is this fact, that not to fall behind its class, a college must make a good record in athletics. The sizes of Freshman classes in institutions making a good name in athletics last year seem to indicate that successful athletics means success-ful colleges. We rejoice that Dr. McKuight is living in the present and is doiugall in his power to stimulate athletics in Gettysburg. Many of Gettysburg's best friends little think how vital the question of athletics is to our college. L,oyal alumni, Gettysburg calls on you for support! Remember the Athletic Association of your Alma Mater! COLLEGE Y. M. C. A. DURING recent years the work of the Young Men's Chris-tian Association has been forcing itself steadily before the gaze and the admiration of the public and to-day it must be recognized as a mighty power in the world. It is our duty therefore to look at it as such. In its growth it has had great obstacles to overcome and one of them has been the great lack of interest and aid given it by the Christian people. In fact many have been positively antagonistic to the movement. This should not be and I feel that if the work in all its departments were fully understood there could no longer be this antagonism. It is our purpose therefore to show to you a little of the inner life of the association. It might be well to look first at the aims and purposes of this movement as a whole and also at its divisions of work. L,et me state here that the Y. M. C. A. is not apart from the church, that it is not a separate and distinct organization, but a part of the church, reaching out its hands unto thousands of young men and bringing them into active church work. Its fundamental purpose then is to bring men to a saving knowledge of their L,ord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is to help them to successfully battle against temptations and bring them into vital connection with the church. No other part of the church seems so ably 170 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. adapted to carry on this work among young men. In that it is a movement distinctly for men, we are able to reach many whom otherwise it would be almost impossible to save. The association work is non-sectarian and therefore should appeal to every branch of the evangelical church. As most probably is known to all, the work is divided into three distinct branches, the town, the railroad and the student. As we see how the many young men who are swarming our cities and towns are kept from yielding to the temptations peculiar to these places, and how many more are led to an acceptance of Christ, and as we see in the railroad circles the real earnest en-thusiasm in the cause of Christ and winning of souls to Him among those who have found the Life, we cannot but feel God is with us, and if He is with us, we know that souls must be saved and this is the fundamental aim of all our work. But we cannot dwell longer on these departments, but must turn our attention to that branch which is of vital importance to the student world. It is a recognized fact that the men who are to rule the world are the men who year after year are crowding out of the doors of our institutions of learning. If therefore we wish our government to be under the control of Christian men, men who will not flinch at doing their duty no matter what the consequences may be, it is of the most extreme importance that these men be won to Christ in their youth while they are within the college walls. To this end we are striving. It is almost impossible for anyone who has not been on the ground for himself to realize the awful need of Christian work in the colleges of our country. It fairly makes the heart break as time after time we see fellows coming from Christian homes where every helpful influence has been thrown around them and where possibly they have been looked up to for nobleness of character, and then come to college, sepa-rated from home and launched out into an entirely new life with its peculiar temptations, and amid fellows, some loving and some not knowing Christ, and then to see them fall little by little. It is pitiable in the extreme. And then there are those who have never known Christ, and what an awful influence they have on the weak Christians. It is for this that those who are Christians may be kept from falling and kept in touch with Christian work and that those who know Him not may be brought to Him that the Y. M. C. A. stands in college. I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 171 In order to accomplish this we do not depend alone on our re-ligious meetings which we hold twice every week, but we have regularly organized Bible, Missionary and Personal Workers classes. If we wish to broaden our spiritual life we must employ those means which God has distinctly made known to us, and these are secret prayer and Bible study. The importance of this can not be too strongly urged. It is the backbone of all Chris-tian work. The International Committee of the Y. M. C. A. has furnished us with a most excellent systematic, devotional course of Bible study. Through it in the four years of college life a man has had a bird's eye view of the entire Bible. The Fresh-men take up the life of Christ; the Sophomores "Studies in the Acts and the Epistles" ; the Juniors, Old Testament characters ; and the Seniors, the crowning truths of the Bible. The Senior course will not be ready, however, for another year. The classes meet once every week and are entirely under the control of the students. Four years ago in the colleges throughout the United States and Canada there were eight thousand students banded to-gether in Bible study. Last year that number was increased to twelve thousand who continued in the work at least two months. The Morning Watch is urged for the most successful Bible study. This is the setting apart of about fifteen to thirty minutes to Bible study and secret prayer at the very beginning of the day when we can give our best thought to God. How can we afford not to give God this little time that we may hold sweet commun-ion with Him. Missions are brought prominently to the front in our work. Here again we use the course prescribed by the International Com-mittee. The class meets every week. Besides the class work, contributions are solicited from the students for Missions. In connection with the class is a volunteer band for the foreign field. The great need of missions is becoming to be more and more felt and where can there be a better place to stir up the mission spirit than right among college men ? Another most important part of our work is the personal work done among the fellows. A class is formed for the best methods of doing personal work and for discussion of the work to be done. Personal work is something every Christian ought to do and for which there is no excuse for not doing but rather condemnation. Another feature of the work is the work among the new stu- 172 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. dents, meeting them at the train and doing whatever we can for them to help in making them feel at home. An information bureau is also conducted. Especial efforts are put forth at the opening of the term to enlist men in Christian work before they form any evil associations. A reception is also held at the open-ing of the term for the new students that they may all become acquainted with each other and with all the men in college. May this brief sketch of the work of our association but move us on to a more earnest and prayerful appreciation of these privileges which we now enjoy, and may its success be the con-stant prayer of all who are interested in the cause of Christ. —WM. J. MIMJER, Jr., '00. TWO MISCHIEVOUS FALLACIES IN EDUCATION. EDUCATION, as we now understand the meaning of the term, must accomplish its purposes in the face of two mis-chievous and prevalent fallacies. The first of these is the fallacy of the short cut, the desire to avoid a long course of study and discipline; the disposition to make our culture consist in a few phrases and in merely superfi-cial knowledge of a great many things. Especially is this the case with the young people. While a boy is at his studies, his acquaintance, who is doing something that can be rated in dollars, measured with the yard-stick or weighed upon the scales, seems to him to be getting on, while he seems to be standing still; so he chafes and frets at his studies and longs to be in active business. How much better it would be for the world if such a boy could be made to understand that it is no gain, but a fatal loss of time to undertake to have a hand in the world's work before he can do anything that the world really wants; that if he wants a place he must first become such a person that the place will want him. The impatient boy ought to understand that so far as he is con-cerned the world is entirely patient, that it is quite willing to wait for him until he has mastered himself and some department of knowledge or industry, but that when he has done that the world is so impatient for him that it will at once find him out and set him at work. If however, he undertakes to participate in the world's work before he has fully prepared himself, what-ever he seeks he will find at his elbow some better man seeking THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 173 the same thing—some man who did what he failed to do ; a man who made the most of himself; who did not strive to do four years' work in three; a man who made the utmost of all his op-portunities. It is true not only that the trained man wins, but that the trained man is about the only one wanted to do any kind of work. In ordinary conversation we find ourselves referring to the young graduate as having "completed his course" or "finished his education," and yet if we think soberly of the matter we know that if the school or college has done its work properly for him it has only prepared him to be educated. The idea that education is a thing to be concluded definitely within a few of the earlier years of life, then to be regarded as forever over and done, and that it consists of some disagreeable preliminaries of syntax, Latin, grammar and rhetoric, to be gotten out of the way as speedily as possible; this idea of education we understand to be thoroughly obsolete. Rather do we understand that education, if it means anything, means the continual enrichment of the re-sources of the individual. How foolish then to think that an education can be "completed" or "finished" by taking a shortcut. The president of a certain college on being asked by a young man if he could not in two years probably get all the good that the college could give him, said: '' Well young man, when God wants to make a squash He takes about six weeks, but when He wants to make an oak He takes a hundred years." Another difficulty against which we must strive in the educa-tion of others or of ourselves is the alluring fallacy about the self-made man. Some one has wittily said that the chief char-acteristic of the self-made man is that he is much given to the worship of his Maker. Doubtless this is more witty than it is just. By a self-made man we generally mean one who has achieved distinguished success without the aid of schools, and if we think soberly about the matter we are in no great danger of saying too much in praise of such men. America, of all countries, should speak respectfully of the self-made man. In no other country has he achieved such splendid things; no other country probably owes so much to the self-made man. But what does he prove? In every case where a man has achieved great success by his own unaided efforts, he has been a man of extraordinary abilities, 174 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and he has succeeded by means of these abilities in spite of and not because of the lack of other aids. We are now beginning to recognize the fact that the self-made man is one who has made the most of his opportunities. Every-man in the world who amounts to anything is a self made man. It is simply a question of using one's actual opportunities. Abra-ham Lincoln was a self-made man. So just as truly was William Gladstone. The opportunities of the one were those of narrowness and poverty; of the other, abundance and comfort. Each made the most of his opportunities, and for each equally this was the condition of success. We ought to understand that self-culture is not a term to be applied only to those who have not the advantages of assistance from the schools, but that the term self-culture describes the personal enrichment of every individual who simply makes the best of whatever opportunities he has. What great mischief has been wrought in the past by the fal-lacious idea that the man who takes advantage of the training which our schools and colleges offer is not a self-made man. Such a man is, indeed, the highest type of a self-made man. If we wish to be thoroughly prepared to engage in the active duties of life, and if we wish to give to the world the fullest reali-zation of our possibilities, we must be fully aware that there is no short cut in education and that the self-made man is that man who has made the most of his opportunities with or without the aid of the school or college. —' 'PROMETHEUS. '' Who reads Incessantly and to his reading- brings not A spirit and judgment equal or superior, (And what he brings, what need he elsewhere seek ?) Uncertain and unsettled still remains. Deep versed in books and shallow in himself. —Milton. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 175 WHY WE SHOULD BE TRUE AND HONEST. TRUTHFULNESS and honesty go hand in hand. Truth alone may not constitute a great man but it is the most im-portant element of great character. It gives security to those who employ it and confidence to those who use it. It is an essential to every man no matter who he is, the king on his royal throne or the slave in the galley. In fact it is one of the first re-quisites for true manhood. Lying, common as it is, is denounced by the liar himself. He protests that he is speaking the truth for he knows that truth is universally respected and a lie universally condemned. He who tells an untruth is not only dishonest but a mean coward. Fear-ing the consequences of making a true statement, he cowers be-neath a lie or probably, what is even worse, just keeps on the verge of the truth, for a lie which is half truth is the worst of lies. Exaggeration is but another name for falsehood. To exaggerate is to pass the bounds of truth and surely these bounds cannot be passed without entering the limits of falsehood. There can be no middle point; what is not true must be false. Not only may one be dishonest in the words he utters but also in his doings. Actions have as plain a voice as words. The sin-cere man speaks as he thinks, acts as he professes to act and does what he promises to do. All phases of society are permeated by this most common of vices, from the highest to the lowest. A lie is a lie, no matter if it is a little white one or a big black one. Ruskin says, "Lies may be light and accidental but they are an ugly soot from the smoke of the pit and it is better our hearts should be swept clean of them without our care as to which is the largest or the blackest." Truth and honesty show themselves in many ways. They characterize the men of just dealings, the faithful men of business and those men who will not deceive you to their own advantage. Full measures, just weights, true sample and a strict fulfillment of engagements are indispensable to men who would succeed. We are always complaining of adulteration of the goods we buy. We pay for one thing and get another. In the study of Chemistry, we learn for instance, how cotton goods is very often treated so as to bring more money into the manufacturer's pocket. The cotton is loaded with china clay, starch, magnesium or zinc. 176 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. When such goods is washed, the clay and starch are removed and it becomes a rag. Recently an engineer crossing the Indian Ocean was decorating his turban with a piece of muslin. "Is that English?" he was asked. His answer was, "No, it is from Swit-zerland. The English makes my fingers stick. It's too gummy." This is the way the dishonest Englishman would eventually lose his trade by forcing this inferior, shoddy stuff on his customers. Why not be honest and sell goods for what they are ? Thus in all walks of life one may find falsehood and deception. But why ? Is it not always easier to tell the true straightforward story than to go to the trouble to invent a lie ? At first it is, but like all other habits, lying increases with practice and an experienced liar often finds difficulty in telling the truth. Very many times he tells a crooked story where the truth would have served his purpose even better. —J. C. M., '00. e^j THE RELATION OF COMMERCE TO MISSIONS. WE are living in an age of great commercial activity. The remarkable progress of science within the last century has afforded surprising facility in international commu-nication ; distances have been annihilated, and those parts of the globe most widely separated may now be said to be in compara-tively close touch with one another. The printing press, the railroad, the telegraph and the steamboat have brought into ex-istence an international community of interests as well as of thought. Along with this there has naturally sprung up great commercial rivalry, and nation now vies with nation in seeking new markets for its products. Vast as the world's great market is, the gigantic proportions of our modern manufacturing industries demand new openings. Nor would it seem a difficult task to find such openings when we but consider the hundreds upon hundreds of millions who need but be raised from their present state of savagery and barbarism to the light and life of our modern civilization to create new de-mands for the world's supply of commodities. With this object in view trading posts and colonies have fre-quently been established in the midst of savage peoples in order to awaken among them the wants peculiar to civilized life by THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 177 bringing them, as much as possible, into contact with the products and institutions of civilization. However, the results of such undertakings have not,as a rule,been of a nature calculated to recom-mend the system to us. Evidently the principle was wrong; our sav-age brothers need something more potent than the mere veneer of our modern civilization to bring them into a condition in which there will be a demand for the commodities of commerce. It is evident to the most casual thinker that between commerce and missions there exists a natural relation; but the remarkable closeness and strength of this relation is recognized by compara-tively few. We all agree with the statement that missions ma-terially promote commercial activity; but many of us shake the head, or at least want time to think it over, when we hear the statement that the founding of missions is essential to commer-cial success in a heathen land. That the latter statement is true however, we believe a careful study of the subject will prove. Reference has already been made to the efforts put forth to re-claim the savage from his degraded state and create in him new wants by familiarizing him with the manners and institutions of civilized society. The utter failure of such efforts has also been referred to. Experience has shown that the savage man may come into frequent contact with civilized men and the products of civilization without being in any way prompted to change his own mode of life. To him civilization, with its multifarious wants, is sheer foolishness, and contrasts very unfavorably with his own life of indolence and general simplicity. What then is the "Open Sesame" whereby commerce may gain entrance to this great market? The answer is plainly, the Gospel of Christ,—not civilization, as we have learned, for gen-uine civilization, with all its requirements must be preceded by the Gospel; whenever the order is reversed failure results. We might cite numerous examples to substantiate this statement. That civilization alone is insufficient is proven moreover by the fact that savages, after having been separated from their na-tive tribes and degraded life for years, given a good education and brought under the influence of the highest civilization, have fre-quently been known to relapse again into savagery. For a very significant illustration of this fact permit us to quote from Rev. J. C. Bryant, who, in writing in the Missionary Journal, says: "Of fourteen young meu who have left my employ within two i78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. years, one has since been converted, and of course clothes him-self; the rest go naked as before, showing how impossible it is to civilize men without first converting them. Wash a pig and shut him in a parlor, he may stay clean for a while, but as soon as free he will return to wallowing in the mire. Make a lamb of him, and at once he gives up his filthy ways. To try to civilize heathen without converting them is to try to make lambs of swine by washing them and putting on them a fleece of wool." Thus we see that the only way whereby the world's savage and degraded millions may be brought into the full light and en-joyment of civilization and thus be made important factors in commerce is the way of the Gospel. It is only when the Gospel enters the hearts of men that they awaken to the great possibili-ties of life. New wants are created. The former savage no longer lives in tents and covers his body with the skins of beasts but dwells in a house and dons the garb of civilization. Instead of the few and primitive wooden implements by means of which he formerly cultivated the soil, he now uses modern implements of agriculture. And in every department of life this inward transformation gives rise to a demand for the various products of civilization. And thus it ever is, the Gospel opens the way, and in its wake comes the commerce of civilized lands. For another illustration of the great value of missions to commerce, let us briefly consider the missionary development of the Sandwich Islands. Less than three-quarters of a century ago these Islands were utterly valueless from a commercial standpoint. The inhabitants, who were most ignorant and lazy, lived in sav-age simplicity. The Gospel was carried to those Islands, with the result that a wonderful transformation followed. Civilized com-munities sprang into existence; churches and school-houses were built; agriculture was given new life, and the fertile soil of the Islands was made to yield bountiful harvests; various industries were created, and a steady and profitable trade with the Islands began. And at the present time the entire cost of christianizing the Islands is more than paid back in less than a year at the port of San Francisco alone. Many similar instances might be cited but we believe that sufficient has been said to show that Chris-tianity is essential to real commercial success and activity in those lands now in heathen darkness. Wherever it goes it exerts a quickening influence, it actuates men to living a more exalted, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 179 more useful and more industrious life. It elevates the general character of society, and firmly establishes the power of civiliza-tion. It is essential to real progress and growth, being to human-ity what the sun is to the world. In view of these considerations it is a matter of surprise to note the comparatively slow progress which is being made in the world's evangelization. The very nature of foreign missions enti-tles them to the zealous support and encouragement of all civi-lized peoples. Christianity stands for the very highest type of civilization. Like an everflowing stream of purest water, it vivifies, purifies and transforms all with which it comes in con-tact. Christian missions constitute the only agency whereby men may be reclaimed from darkness and destructive indolence, and brought to a full realization of all the benefits of civilization. Their every advance gives a new impetus to commerce, for they bring about industry and fruitfulness. Under their divine in-fluence the earth is made to yield to men its richest treasures, and those places once desolate and unfruitful become the abodes of prosperity. "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose." —R. D. C, '00. THE UNITED STATES AS A COLONIZING NATION. EVERY nation that has ever been a factor in the development of the human race has had some strong characteristic which has given life and form to its civilization. Among the Greeks it was culture; among the Romans it was law; among the Hebrews it was purity; among the Americans this one central idea is liberty. For it, and for scarcely any other cause, thousands of them have shed blood in battle, and sacrificed their lives. From our earliest existence as a nation we were the best representative, if indeed not the only one, of pure civil and religious liberty. Two other representative characteristics of the nation are the unequaled energy and the undaunted perseverance of its people. There is scarcely any doubt that to-day the American people are the most aggressive, the most expansive and at the same time the best champions of liberty in the world. These characteristics of the people of the United States account largely for their being at i8o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. once the most extensive and the most successful colonizers the world has yet seen. "A colony is a territory, not forming, for political purposes, a part of the mother country, but dependent upon her, and peopled in part, at least, by her emigrants." According to this definition there was no time in its history that the United States has not had colonies. The small country along the Atlantic sea-board had scarcely been organized before it launched out upon one of the most extensive colonizing schemes in the history of the world. In a few years the great Northwest Territory was settled largely by colonists from the mother country and new states were formed from it. This territory was not fully developed until the vast tract known as the Louisiana Purchase was also added. This domain, large enough in itself for a strong kingdom, was thrown open for colonization and in seventy-five years scarcely less than a dozen states have been developed from it. Since then the terri-tory of the United States has been extended by the Gadson pur-chase, the Oregon cession, the annexation of Florida, the Mexican cession, the Purchase of Alaska, and the annexation of the Ha-waiian and Philippine Islands. In the colonization of this vast territory the government had no trouble with the slight exceptions of the quarrel introduced into Kansas from the states and the Mormon power in Utah. This may in part be accounted for by the contiguity of the colonies to the parent government. Since we can go no farther west but must spread out to the islands of the sea we encounter more diffi-culties; but with the schooling we have had during the last hun-dred years we need not fear for our future success in colonizing or civilizing. When we consider with our great energy and deep love of liberty, our advantageous position, our immense wealth, our mar-itime power, our extensive commerce, our enlightened civilization, and our religious enthusiasm, colonization seems to be the work for which we as a nation are especially fitted. And when we compare our colonizing policy with that of Spain we can still further see why we have thus far had so successful a career and will likely have in the future. We find that throughout her career as a colonizer her ruling passion was jealousy; that her primary objects were subjection and and self-enrichment. Everything that could possibly tend to ac- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 181 tivity, education, enterprise or independence was sedulously dis-couraged . The government of her possessions in the New World, extending at one time from 37° N. to 41 ° S., was administered entirely by foreigners who cared only for their own and the parent government's welfare. The original inhabitants, instead of be-ing raised to a higher plane of living, were reduced to a state of abject bondage and imbecility. At the beginning of the 18th century her annual income from her colonies was about ten mil-lion dollars. What do we behold as the result of such a course of colonization ? Her vast possessions in North and South Amer-ica have long ago slipped from her control, and now even Cuba, Porto Rico and the Philippine Islands, her last colonial possessions, are lost to her forever. Spain's colonial policy was a failure. Examining more closely our past career we find instead of our controlling policy being jealousy it was first a desire of improve-ment in the domestic condition of the colonies and second the strengthening of the entire country. Instead of discouraging ed-ucation, enterprise, study, and independence, schools were organ-ized and encouraged, capital was sent into the territory for indus-trial development, railroads were built, and independence was en-couraged by extending to the colonies the privilege of becoming states as soon as they were capable of self-government. Instead of being ruled entirely by the parent state the colonies selected their own officers and administered their own local affairs, the national government reserving to itself only a veto power. In short the territories were held in a state of tutelage until they could manage their own affairs and then were admitted into the Union on an equality with all the rest of the states. In our new possessions many new conditions confront the government. They are thousands of miles away ; they are mostly in tropical latitudes; and they are more thickly settled than were our former colonies. In our new venture of crossing the seas to find colonies many of our old principles will still serve us well. We have become more philanthropic in our policy: we no longer expect any strength to the home government, nor any great com-mercial advantage, and certainly no increase of wealth. Our guiding hand, liberalizing influence, and generous sympa-thies have been extended solely in the effort of raising the inhab-itants to a higher political, social and religious plane of life. Our great aim here will doubtless be as it has been in the past to train 182 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the colonists in the habit of self-government. This will be done by letting them, so far as possible, manage their own affairs to their own advantage and interest. It is now our duty to give them peace and order, the foundation of a beneficent government, and afford them every opportunity of prosecuting their lawful pursuits. —"GEORGB." ADVANTAGES OF STUDYING THE CLASSICS. OBSERVATION and the personal experience of many have proved that the classical department of an institution is the one least appreciated by the majority of the students. That such should be the case is due, perhaps mostly, to the fact that in this department we find some of the most difficult labor. It is, therefore, natural that the minds of some of the students should be prejudiced on this subject. It has often been a surprise to see men of experience argue that the study of Greek and Latin will never benefit a man. To say the least of the majority of such men, we can only say that they expose their ignorance by speaking on the subject. To convince such men that there are really benefits and advantages derived from studying the classics, is not the original idea of this produc-tion. But if they are patient in following while we speak of at least some of the advantages derived from studying the classics, they may be induced to lay aside their "Cui boni" criticism in regard to this subject. That advantages are derived from studying the classics has been proved conclusively by the past. While the world has had some powerful intellects who were not classical scholars, we can, never-theless, say that the most powerful minds of the past and the present are those which have been developed by classical culture. Let it be understood, however, that by studying the classics in this production we mean true, honest and earnest study. Not such studying as the majority of the students pursue. To say nothing of the dishonesty and injustice of such studying both towards the professors and towards the few of the class who are honest enough not to use translations, let it suffice to say that such a course of study will never secure true and lasting good to the scholars. All are willing to acknowledge that a student while at college THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 183 is laying his foundation for future usefulness in active life. And while the body must not be neglected, the mind is after all the important factor to be developed in the student. Now while the study of all the different branches has the tendency of developing the mental faculty, we hold as the first advantage derived from studying the classics, that they have the tendency more than any other branch to develop the mind of the student. The develop-ment of the mind may be a subtle point to discuss ; but what we mean by it, without bringing into consideration mental philosophy, is the cultivation of the mental faculties so as to expand the mind, thus making it stronger and more capable of grasping and prose-cuting other studies. It is the brain power that the student stands in need of, and as the muscles of a man are developed in propor-tion to his muscular efforts so the mind is developed and expanded in proportion to the exertions made. We find that in all institu-tions of learning much attention is being paid to the classical de-partment. The recitations are about as two to one compared with the recitations in any of the other departments, and frequently we find the professors in this department the most competent men of the institution. It is known that the recitations in said department are for the most part difficult. Taking, therefore, into consideration the time occupied in studying the classics and also the hard work em-ployed in solving many of the dark and mysterious passages of the same, we can come to no other conclusion than that classical training will develop the mind. In the second place, studying the classics will develop and en-large our thinking and reasoning faculties and our judgment. These are the faculties which place us so high above the brute creation, and if properly developed give to man his true dignity. The less these are developed the lower will be the standard of our manhood, but the more they are developed the higher will we as-cend towards that position intended by the Creator for all rational creatures. The man who cannot reason and think for himself is at best a poor and insignificant being. The above named faculties are the ones which should be par-ticularly developed in the student. Let him pursue the study of Greek and Latin diligently and he can not fail to improve him-self. I ATHLETICS. THE opening of the football season this year has been more encouraging than for some years. The material is better and heavier, the spirit of all the boys is higher, and the scrub team is larger and stronger than at any time within the knowledge of any man at college. There has been one great disappointment, however,—in the matter of a coach. Money is already secured to defray the expense, and a man was practically engaged, but at the last moment he went back on us, and we were left in the hole. Manager Imler THE GETTYSBURG MERCURi. 187 has been making strenuous efforts to secure a man, but has not succeeded as yet. Captain Dale has been doing all the coaching, being ably assisted by White, '97, a well-known former captain and half-back, who has been coaching the backs, and Ott and Menges, '97, former tackle and guard, who have been coaching the line men. The most attention has been given to defensive work, recognizing that there is no hope of winning the first two games—Indians and State—and the wisdom of the coachers was shown in the low score made against us by the Indians. Hickman is back at his old place as center. He plays the same good defensive game as formerly, and has improved greatly in offensive work. Nicely, our well-known big guard, is showing the same good form which always characterizes his work. Hoff-man has rapidly learned his place at left guard, and is playing an aggressive game. The guards-back is very effective as played by these men, they tearing big holes in the opponent's line. Gilbert retains his place at right tackle, with Williams, our former center, at left tackle. Gilbert's ability is well known, and Williams is fast getting on to his new place. Minuigh, a former Gettysburg High School player, is holding left end, and Emmert the "little sub," who was so much praised by Dickinson and Susquehanua last year, is playing left end. Both are speedy and manifesting excellent tackling ability. Rugh, a half on last year's team, is filling the position at quarter very acceptably, being quick and sure. Captain Dale at right half is so well known that nothing need be said concerning his ability. Koller, left tackle for two years, is filling left half. He is learning the position rapidly, and with a little experience at the place will be all that can be desired. The biggest surprise of the year is the ability displayed by Young, last year's captain and end, at full-back. He plays a fierce game, both offensive and defensive, his line-bucking being the hardest seen here for some time. Dale does all the kicking, and is prac-ticing hard at goals from the field. Other good men are Henry for the line; Krout, quarter, McClean, end, and Weaver, back. The Scrub, captained by Bottiger, 'oo, has been unsually strong, and is giving the Varsity good hard practice. The first game was played Saturday, September 23d, against the Indians at Carlisle. The result was encouraging in the highest degree, our men holding the Indians down to twenty points. In addition, but one of their tallies was a touchdown, the other three i38 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. being goals from the field kicked by Hudson. Our men played a fine game both offensive and defensive, and Young and guards tore great holes in the Indians' line. We clip from a comment on the game in the Philadelphia Times, September 25th: "Gettysburg did finely, and should rank somewhat better, it seems, than Swarthmore, Dickinson, Haverford, or Franklin and Marshall, who may usually be ranked with her.'' Now let everybody do his best to prove this prophecy true. —W. C F. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming- Pall 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. flummelstomn Bromn Stone Company Quarr3Tmen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. B. ii1 j PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted. 16 Kt. Gold Pen, Indium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College. PRICE LIST. No. 1. No. 1. Chased, long- or short $2 00 Gold Mounted 3 00 No. 3. Chased 3 00 No. 3. Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 SO Twist, " " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 50 Gold Mounted 4 00 Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. WHITEWATER. WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyou. Agood local agent wanted in every school' ■ 'J^^^i^fi^jff^^-iixiJrmE CENT!) Printing and Binding We Print., 'The Mercury' THE MT. HOELY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing' and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. "SPRINGS, PA. SJ I H.S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Cigars. J7 CHAMBERSBURG ST. ■■■■■^i^^HHiH WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest/including the three days' fight, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Baltimore St., O.ETTYSBURCI, PA. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta- People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. .QO TO. l?otel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON J, A. TAWNEY ,. Is ready to furnish Clubs and Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. 'Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W.F.CODORI, Bi2E5S£d Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. Davib Croxcl, Dealer in ^tne groceries anb Hottons e4*_4Jorfc Street. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. YOHN BROS. Agents for the Keystone State, Waldo, Washburn, Groupner & Meyer. Highest Grade Mandolins, Guitars, Banjos, Mandollas and Mandocellos. Headquarters for Phonographs, Graphophones and supplies. Trimmings of every description. All sheet music one-half off. Large discounts on Books and studies. 326 Market St., Harrisburg, Pa. I FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. I Baseball sSapplies, .Spalofng's Xeaguc Jfiall, /kits, flbaefte, Etc. Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for Cennte, Oolf, Grlcftet, ttracft ano ffielo, ©Btnnasium Equipments ano ©utfite Complete Catalogue Spring and Summer Sports Free. The Name the Guar-antee." a. ©. SpalOing & JBroe. New York .•. Philadelphia '." Chicago ROWE. YOUR GROCER Carries Full Line of Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEGE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, **Druggists Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J- Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. CULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH ST., PHILADELPHIA. PA. SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pius, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through C. H. Tilp. Gotrell Leonardi 472-474 Broadway, Albany, N. Y. /lakers of CAPS, QOWNSand. HOODS To the leading American Colleges. Illus-trated Manual, etc., upon application. Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS Of SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. You can't expect to create the im-pression that you are well dressed unless your clothes are MADE FOR YOU. Equivocate as you may, the fact remains that ready-made garments lack that air of exclusiveness which custom work possesses. J. O. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg-, Pa. G. E. SPANGLER, Dealer in Pianos, Organs, Music, Musical Instsuments, Strings, Etc. YORK STREET, 1ST SQUARE. GETTYSBURG. L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. 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Issue 68.2 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Mission and Ministry Renewing Religious Traditions Reviewing Outward Signs QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogu~e withGod, dialogue with ourselves~: and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ iocharisms of~Catholic religiouslif¢. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being Church is todqy the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034o639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 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. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any inaterial (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Catholic ~pir~ual~y Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp . Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen HughesRSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.2 2009 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 132 144 mission and ministry ~ ~_ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principle,s: A Missioner's Reflection James H. Kroeger MM shares with us ten "mission principles" valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well--the result of his own reflections as a missionary and a meditative reading of St. Paul. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion A Franciscan Approach to Ministry Daniel P. Horan OFM ~eflec~s on Francis of Assisi's life and writings and suggests that the five characteristics that emerge provide a helpful parad!grn for all pastoral ministers in the church. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion Discipleship and Walking by Faith Damian C. Ilodigwe, along with Abraham and the apostle Thomas, shows that discipleship needs deep faith daily. Review for Religious 152 168 renewing religious traditions Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Intrepretation Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ suggests a new understanding of reparation which speaks to the lived reality of the Body of Christ in a global community as well as to the Christian mission to live a life of service. Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition James H. Schimelpfening SM shares his refreshing experience of community that came from a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 181 192 reviewing outward signs Religious Habits Reconsidered Doris Gottemoeller RSM looks over changes of habit and other changes and raises some thoughtful questions about what is now past, having been passed with a view to the future. On Wearing a Habit, from My Perspective Patricia McCarthy CND shares her experience of responding to God's grace in giving witness to her religious consecration in order to help us all to question our freedom in responding to God's grace in our own call. departments 204 Scr.ipture Scope: The Gospel of St. Paul 208 Canonical Counsel: Response to the Role of Law in the Church 214 Book Reviews 68.2 2009 prisms 116 T celebration of the Pauline Year has stimulated a large number of books on the person and writings of St. Paul. As a theologian I have been most taken by the importance of the Holy Spirit in Paul's Letters. In dogmatic development, it will take a few centuries before the church can articulate a theology of the Trinitarian God, and so Paul's writings about the working of the Spirit are all the more arresting. One of the titles that we give to the Holy Spirit in our Nicene creed is "Giver of life." That title is one of the best summaries for how Paul describes the Spirit in the life of the individual Christian and of the Christian community. In his Letter to Titus, Paul makes a summary statement about how much the Spirit is truly the Giver of life. "[God] saved us through the bath of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he richly poured out on us through Jesus Christ our savior." Through the image of the Spirit being poured out, all the specifics of this new life find their font. Early on in his First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul asks "Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" He then goes on to say "for the temple of God, which you are, is holy." But Paul becomes more creative and copious in his description of the Spirit's gifts when he employs the image of the human body. That we all are members of the Body R~vie~ for Religious of Christ receives its most detailed description in this Letter of Paul's. We are all baptized into the one Body in the one Spirit. The Spirit is the Giver of the many different kinds of spiritual gifts, and at the same time "to each individual the manifestation of the Spirit is given for some benefit" (1 Co 12:7). What we might take for granted, Paul assures us, is the Spirit's gift. Paul's example is "No one can say 'Jesus is Lord' except by the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). Surely our sacramental words, "I absolve you," "this is my Body," "I baptize you," are Spirit-filled and Spirit-given words. But more simply, our expressed desires--"teach me to pray," "Lord, for-give me," "Lord, here I am"--are the continuing daily pouring out of gifts of the Spirit. That the total health of the Body depends on each and every one of us being open to the gifts of the Spirit and so sharing this divine life remains central to Paul's theology of the Spirit's gift-ing both to the individual Christian and to the Christian community. In Paul's Letter to the Romans we receive the rich-est understanding of our prayer as Christians. "The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings" (Rm 8:26). Our very effort to pray--sometimes feeling so dry and empty--is always a gift of the Spirit. Perhaps our own sense of futility in praying excites the gifting of the Spirit's groans within us all the more, and within the groanings of the community praying as well. Paul's insight gives us consolation in our daily effort to pray. From these few examples, perhaps we will be stirred to greater gratitude for Paul's own gift of in.sight into the Spirit as the Giver of life as we celebrate.the Pauline Year. David L. Fleming SJ 117 68.2 2009 mission and JAMES H. KROEGER Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles: A Missioner's Reflection ministry The apostle Paul is considered the greatest missionary of all time. He is called the Apostle of the Gentiles since he was mainly responsible for the spread of Christianity into the Gentile world. The church owes much to Paul for its growth; he pioneered its early expansion by his mission labors and his theological reflection. A brief synopsis of Paul's life includes the following approximate chronology: 5-10 (birth at Tarsus), 15-20 (studies in Jerusalem), 36 (conversion), 36-39 (Damascus, Arabia, Jerusalem), 39-43 (Tarsus), 43-44 (Antioch), 44-48 (first missionary journey), 49-50 (Council of Jerusalem; Antioch confrontation with Peter), 49-53 (second missionary journey), James H. Kroeger MM, a missionary in Asia (Philippines and Bangladesh) since 1970, is professor of systematic theology, missiology, and Islamics at the Loyola School of Theology; Ateneo de Manila University; Katipunan Avenue, Loyola Heights; Quezon City 1108; Philippines. jkroeger@admu.edu.ph 53-58 (third missionary journey), 58-60 (prisoner in Caesarea), 60-63 (voyage to Rome, prisoner in Rome), 64-66 (Spain? Rome? elsewhere?), 66-67 (prisoner in Rome), 67/68 (death in Rome). This brief chronology provides the context from which Paul's dynamic mission principles emerge; they are the result of both mission praxis and deep theological reflection. Paul's letters and the Acts of the Aposdes provide much insight into Paul's missionary thinking and methods. Over the centuries many authors have tried to digest Paul's mission thought and praxis, emphasizing the "central ideas" of this aposde. This effort may be admi-rable, but can result in a certain selectivity. Thus, this author is chary of claiming to capture the "essence" of Paul's insights. One cannot compose a "CliffsNotes" or abbreviated version of Paul's thought. His letters were written over a span of ten years; they were based on a lengthy ministry of preaching the gospel message in an extraordinary variety of circumstances and to diverse groups of people. Readers, consider this pie.ce a long-term ad gentes missionary's :personal reflections based on a medita-tive reading of St. Paul. Through an interaction of this writer's personal experience and the profound thought of Paul, ten "mission principles" took form. Emerging from Paul's life and refracted through the experience of a contemporary missioner, these insights are, I think, valid for the church's missionary activity today, twenty centuries after Paul's birth. Depth Awareness of Vocation. In Paul's mind there was no iota of doubt about his calling, his vocation; for Paul and all missioners, mis-sion originates in the call of God. Several passages in the 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles book of Acts portray this: "The Lord said to [Ananias], 'Go, because this man [Paul] is my chosen instrument to bring my name before Gentiles'" (Ac 9:15). "The God of our ancestors has chosen you . . . because you are to be his witness before all humanity, testifying to what you have seen and heard" (Ac 22:14-15). "I have appeared to you for this reason: to appoint you as my servant and as witness of this vision in which you have seen me" (Ac 26:15). In addition, the majority of Paul's letters begin with a firm assertion of his identity as a chosen instrument of God. "From Paul . . . an apostle who does not owe his authority to men or his appointment to any human being, but who has been appointed by Jesus Christ and by God the Father who raised Jesus from the dead" (Ga 1:1-2). "From Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus who has been called to be an apostle, and specially chosen to preach the Good News" (Rm 1:1). Several other let-ters begin with almost the same words: "From Paul, appointed by God to be an apostle of Christ Jesus" (2 Co 1:1); see also 1 Co 1:1, Ep 1:1, Col 1:1, Ph 1:1, and others. Writing to the Corinthians about Christ's resur-rection, Paul categorically states: "I am the least of the apostles; in fact, since I persecuted the church of God, I hardly deserve the name apostle; but by God's grace that is what I am, and the grace that he gave me has not been fruitless" (1 Co 15:9-10). Radical Commitment to Christ. Paul's experience on the Damascus road was, in fact, only the starting point of a lifelong relationship; mission envisions a totally Christ-centered life. Paul expresses this in various ways: "Life to me, of course, is Christ" (Ph 1:21). "None of us live to ourselves, and none of us die Review for Religious to ourselves. If we live, we live to the Lord, if we die, we die to the Lord; so then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's" (Rm 14:7-8). "I have been crucified with Christ, and I live now not with my own life, but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:19-20). All of Paul's writings speak of his love for Christ, his identification with Christ. So intimate was his rela-tionship that he could even advise the Corinthians: "Imitate me as I imitate Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul tells the Thessalonians that they can follow his example: "You observed the sort of life we lived when we were with you, which was for your instruction; you were led to become imitators of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:5-6). Paul, writing to the Philippians, makes a moving com-parison of his previous life to his newfound existence in Christ: "I believe nothing can happen that will out-weigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:8-9). Voluntary Acceptance of Suffering Not relying on words alone, the apostle Paul preached the gospel by his life and example. In a par-ticular way, vulnerability and acceptance of the cross authen-ticate mission. In imitation of Christ who gave himself up to death even for sinners (Rm 5:8), Paul considers his suffering for the sake of the gospel to be a participa-tion in Christ's sufferings (2 Co 1:5-7). Paul saw him-self as sharing in Christ's kenosis (Ph 2:6-11). Writing to Timothy he says: "Join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling" (2 Tm 1:8-9). 121 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯Paul'$ Dynamic Mission Principles Paul recounts his numerous trials in the service of the gospel; he mentions his imprisonments, beatings, shipwrecks, travels, robberies, hard labor, sleeplessness, hunger, thirst, and nakedness (see 2 Co 11:23-27). Paul also mentions that he had to bear "a thorn in the flesh" (2 Co 12:7). Yet, he notes, "I am quite content with my weaknesses, and with insults, hardships, persecutions, and the agonies I go through for Christ's sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong" (2 Co 12:10). Of course, this vulnerability is intimately linked with the paradox of the cross: "Continually we carry in our bod-ies the.dying of Jesus, so that in our bodies the life of Jesus may also be revealed" (2 Co 4:10). Like Paul, all missionaries need to say, "May I never boast of anything but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Ga 6:14). Insightful Mission Methods One can affirm that all Paul's energies were mission-focused, yet one can also point out that he employed dis-tinct methods to achieve his purposes. Mission demands creative, inculturated, ever-renewed approaches to evange-lization. Paul sought various occasions which would facilitate his proclamation; he attempted to connect his preaching with people's daily lives and worldview. Paul's approach at Ephesus (Ac 19) is exemplary; he would preach in a synagogue or a nearby house and attempt to link th~ Jewish faith with Christian revelation (see Ac 13:5 & 14, 14:1, 17:1). Acts 17:22-31 narrates Paul's famous speech in the Areopagus, the central assembly place in Athens, the cultural capital of the Greek islands. Paul mentions their altar to an unknown god; he refers to the philoso-pher- poet Epimenides (vv. 23 & 28). Although many mocked Paul, his intelligent method won some followers Revie~v for Religious for Christ. Paul, the "practical" missioner, moved from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from the unknown to the known. Pope John Paul II has exhorted missionaries to move into new mission frontiers, "the modern equiva-lents of the Areopagus" (Redemptoris missio, §37). Paul's missionary sensitivities are manifested in his conviction that adaptation (inculturation, in today's parlance) is essential when mission meets a new situa-tion (Ac 15). He vigorously opposed the imposition of Jewish legal traditions, cultural observations, or external religious practices on Gentile Christians; these could hinder the spread of the gospel into the Gentile world. Paul even withstood James in Jerusalem (Ac 15) and Peter in Antioch (Ga 2:11-14). Paul articulates his "inculturated" method of becom-ing "all things to everyone" (1 Co 9:19-23). He adapts himself to the Jews, to those outside the law, and to the weak. His vision is crystal clear: "I have made myself the slave of everyone so as to win as many as I could. ¯. I made myself all things to everyone in order to save some at any cost; and I still do this, for the sake of the gospel, to have a share in its blessings." Urgent Gospel Proclamation ~. Paul did not understand "preaching" as giving a spir-itual reflection in a liturgical assembly. Integral procla-mation means heralding an urgent message from God that profoundly affects the destiny of all humankind. Mission has lost none of its urgency in the contem-porary world. Paul's words possess an authentic ring-- even in our ears today: "For, if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!" (1 Co 9:16). For all Christians, evangelization must be a 123 68.2 2009 Kroeger ¯ Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles "daily preoccupation" (2 Co 11:28). As Pope Paul VI noted, "the presentation of the gospel message is not an optional contribution for the church. It is a duty incumbent on her by the command of the Lord Jesus" (Evangelii nuntiandi, §5). This Pauline "mission principle" is actually a call for an examination of conscience on the part of the church. Have many local churches placed too much emphasis on administrative efficiency, pastoral management, eco-nomic accountability, liturgical practice, canonical and catechetical orthodoxy--all to the detriment of dynamic programs of renewed evangelization? Have inward (ad intra) concerns vitiated the church's outward (ad extra) mission commitments? Paul's words contain a challenge to all churches and religious communities: "All the way along, from Jerusalem to Illyricum, I have preached Christ's Good News to the utmost of my capacity" (Rrn 15:19). Paul wrote these encouraging words to Timothy: "Make the preaching of the Good News your life's work, in thoroughgoing service" (2 Tm 4:5). 124 Deep Love of the Church In examining Paul's apostolic methods, it is enlight-ening to probe his view of the church. Paul primarily understands the church as a local community of baptized followers of Jesus Christ; he was not opposed to a uni-versal church, but in his day the local congregation was central to his experience. Mission and love of the people who constitute the church go hand in hand. This principle echoes the thought of an elderly Maryknoll missioner who never tired of repeating: Mission is people. Paul had great love and concern for the ecclesial com-munities he founded with painstaking effort. His writ-ings frequently and spontaneously express his affection: Review for Religious "It is only natural that I should feel like this towards you all, since you have shared the privileges which have been mine: both my chains and my work defending and estab-lishing the gospel. You have a permanent place in my heart, and God knows how much I miss you all, loving you as Christ Jesus loves you" (Ph 1:7-8). When the churches Paul established with patient apostolic ministry were in trouble, he shared their pain; he speaks of his "daily anxiety" for them (2 Co 11:28). He wonders aloud: "I am afraid that my work for you may have been wasted" (Ga 4:11). "My children, I must go through the pain of giv-ing birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed in you" (Ga 4:19). Although the Corinthian community had many internal problems (divi-sions, immorality, idolatry, etc.; see 1 Co 1:10-13, 5:1-5, 10:14- 22), Paul, the affectionate missionary, loved them dearly: "You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all" (2 Co 3:2). "Keep a place for us in your hearts . As I have already told' you, you are in our hearts--together we live or together we die. I have the very greatest confidence in you, and I am so proud of you that in all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:2-4). His writings frequently "and spontaneously express his affection. Close Collaboration with Coworkers The apostle Paul, though a strong personality, was a team worker in the task of evangelization. He under-stood that all apostolic ministry is enhanced through collab-orative efforts. Some few examples show that Paul saw 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles great advantages in working together with other apos-tles. On his first missionary j6urney, Paul was accom-panied by Barnabas and Mark (Ac 13-14). Timothy and Silvanus were his trusted coworkers in Corinth and else-where (2 Co 1:19). Titus was his appointed deputy in dealing with difficulties in the Corinthian community (2 Co 8:23), Among other coworkers and fellow aposdes were Luke, Erastus, Aristarchus, and Tychicus. Paul considered teamwork and collaborative minis-try important for a variety of reasons. Apostles working in partnership presented a visible image of the church as community; it gave the people an example of common witness. A variety of apostles working for a common goal presented a more balanced picture of the church than Paul alone could have given. In addition, the gifts of vai'ious individuals were put at the service of gospel proclamation. Paul frequendy expressed his admiration and appre-ciation of his collaborators; he called Timothy his "coworker" (Rm 16:21) and tenderly describes him as "my dear and faithful son" (1 Co 4:17) whose "worth you know, how like a son with a father he has served with me in the work of the gospel" (Ph 2:22). Paul referred to Titus as "my brother" (2 Co 2:13) and "my partner and coworker" (2 Co 8:23). Even if disputes occasionally arose, Paul sought to promote communion in mission. Paul offers contemporary ministers a model of cooperative ministry. Commitment to Social Transformation Paul preached a gospel of freedom and liberation along with his manifest concern and love for the poor and the suffering. The gospel message of human dignity and equality, if embraced, leads to social transformation. Revie~v for Religious Paul firmly believed in the transforming power of the gospel message, and he proposed to his communities the model of Jesus Christ: "Remember how generous the Lord Jesus was: he was rich, but he became poor for your sake, to make you rich out of his poverty" (2 Co 8:9). And, for gospel credibility, Paul himself imitated Christ. Though he possessed citizenship in the Roman Empire, to show his social concern and commitment he chose the lot of ordinary working-class people and labored with his own hands for his livelihood (1 Th 2:9, 1 Co 4:12). Paul challenged many of the social, racial, religious, cultural, and economic barriers of his times. One brief example illustrates Paul's social message. In ancient times, there were three great blessings pronounced in the Jewish synagogue: "Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, . . . who hast not made me a Gentile, . . . who hast not made me a slave,., who hast not made me a woman!" Paul certainly had these barriers in mind when he expressed the new unity of those baptized in Christ: "There are no more distinctions between Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female, but all of you are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). All, without dis-tinction, are to gather around the Eucharistic table, that great center of unity. Numerous additional examples of Paul's social con-sciousness readily come to mind. He struggled to alleviate the suffering of the Christian communities in Jerusalem and Judea during a severe famine (1 Co 16:1-4). Paul laid down ~a clear apostolic principle: "The only thing insisted on was that we should remember to help the poor, as indeed I was anxious to do" (Ga 2:10). Paul converted the runaway slave Onesimus and then demanded that he be accepted "no longer as a slave but something much bet-il, 27 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles ter than a slave, a beloved brother" (Phm 16). In a word, Paul preached authentic liberation: "When Christ freed us, he meant us to remain free" (Ga 5:1). 128 Effective, Exemplary Lifestyle The apostle Paul was always careful that .his per-sonal life would encourage and facilitate the spread of the gospel and never become counterproductive. The witness of a Cbristian life is the first and oj~en most effective proclamation of the gospel. When Paul speaks of imitation in his letters (he is not being arrogant), he believes that Christians can encourage one another through their Chrisdike words and deeds. An exemplary lifestyle is a very effective mode of proclamation. "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (1 Co 11:1). Paul commends the Thessalonians because "you were led to become imita-tors of us and of the Lord" (1 Th 1:6). Paul, the exem-plary missioner, is seeking to draw people to Christ, not to himself, through his encouragement to imitate model Christians: "I have sent you Timothy. he will remind you of the way that I live in Christ" (1 Co 4:16). Several of the foregoing sections of this presenta-tion refer to key elements that coalesce to form Paul's life-witness as an apostle: Christocentric spirituality, voluntary vulnerability, innovative mission approaches, evangelical urgency, collaborative ministry, social engagement. To these elements one could add additional virtues, as Paul himself does in his lists of spiritual gifts (see 1 Co 12 & 13, Ga 5:22). In a theology of mission today, the holistic approach to mission that Paul's life shows would be termed "inte-gral evangelization." Paul consistendy strove to run the race successfully and fight the battle successfully (see 1 Co 9:24-27). He kept his eyes fixed on Christ; he told Revie~v for Religious the Philippians: "I am still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (Ph 3:12). Total Reliance on God's Providence Paul had full confidence in God's everlasting love and fidelity; the guarantee of God's salvific love is Jesus Christ. Paul asks: "If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us all, how will he not also give us everything else along with him?" (Rm 8:31-32). Mission always remains "God's project" and evangelizers seek to be God's faith-filled, humble instruments. Paul cooper-ated with God's grace so willingly and generously because he was firmly convinced that he was doing God's work. He asserts that he is only a servant of the gospel: "I did the planting, Apollos did the watering, but God made things grow. Neither the planter nor the waterer matters: only God, who makes things grow" (1 Co 3:6-7). Paul lived his apostolic life with great confidence and full trust in God, whom we can call "Abba" (Rm 8:15, Ga 4:6-7). His life wasfilled with many sufferings, hardships, and challenges; he even faced Spirit-given "roadblocks" in his missionary journeys (Ac 16:6-10). Fully convinced that his life and mission were dependent totally on God and the Spirit's guidance, Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. "By the grace of God I am what I am . I worked harder than any of them--though it was not I, but the Paul labored unceasingly, always ascribing any missionary success to God. 129 68.2 2009 Kroeger * Paul's Dynamic Mission Principles grace of God that is with me" (1 .Co 15:10). Paul asserts: "The love of Christ urges us on" (2 Co 5:14), "I can do all things in him who strengthens me" (Ph 4:13), "The Spirit comes to help us in our weakness" (Rm 8:26). Paul was a man of faith. The dynamic aposde Paul is undoubtedly the great-est missionary of all time. Based on his mission experi-ence and profound theological insights, this presentation has proposed ten "mission principles," valid for Paul of Tarsus and for today's Pauls as well. Paul burned' with the flame of God's love that was enkindled in his heart at his conversion; that flame pervaded his whole existence, even to the final hour of his martyrdom in Rome. It is good for us to notice that, even in the face of all the afflictions and sufferings he endured, Paul was a fulfilled, joyful, Spirit-guided missioner. Paul over-flowed with the Good News, and spread God's saving love everywhere. His awareness of God's transforming grace given to him in abundant measure enabled him to joyfully proclaim Jesus as Lord (see 1 Co 15:10). Paul, exemplifying a genuinely missionary attitude, was filled with deep joy, not because of personal grati-fication or external success, but because he saw many communities accept the person of Jesus. He wrote to the Philippians: "My brothers and dear friends, do not give way but remain faithful in the Lord. I miss you very much, dear friends; you are my joy and my crown" (Ph 4:1). To the Thessalonians Paul wrote: "What do you think is our pride and our joy? You are; and you will be the crown of which we shall be proudest in the presence of our Lord Jesus when he comes; you are our pride and our joy" (1 Th 2:19-20). The Corinthians received this message from Paul: "I have the very great-est confidence in you, and I~ am so proud of you that in Review for Religious all our trouble I am filled with consolation and my joy is overflowing" (2 Co 7:4). Paul's exhortations need to be heard by the mission-ary church today: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say rejoice" (Ph 4:4). "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances" (1 Th 5:16- 18). "My brothers, rejoice in the Lord" (Ph 3:1). "Shine in the world like bright stars, because you are offering it the word of life" (Ph 2:15-16). Pastors, missionaries, catechists, religious, all ministers of the church, imitate Paul, the joyful evangelizer. Selected Resources Alien, R. Missionary Methods: St. Paul's or Ours? Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1962. Grassi, J. The Secret of Paul the Apostle. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1978. Grassi, J. A World to Win. Maryknoll: Maryknoll Publications, 1965. Matera, E Strategies for Preaching Paul. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2001. Murphy-O'Connor, J. Jesus and Paul: Parallel Lives. Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 2007. Smyth, B. Pauk Mystic and Missionary. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980. Srampickal, T. "The Secret of Paul's Missionary Success," Third Millennium 10 (2007): 41-66. Witherup, R. I01 Questions and Answers on Paul. New York: Paulist Press, 2003. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What principle(s) of Paul, identified by Kroeger, most caught your attention for use in your own mission? If you were to list your own mission principles, how would they compare with Paul's? 131 68.2 2009 DANIEL P. HORAN A Franciscan Approach to Ministry 1321 During his final days St. Francis of Assisi reflected on how he had lived his life and spent God's time. To preserve his recollections of the birth of his new religious order and leave a record of his hopes for the future, he dictated his Testament to some of the fri-ars who were caring for him. In it he recalls his conver-sion to follow Christ and shares what it means to be a Franciscan: to live the gospel. Today Francis continues to inspire people in all parts of the world and every faith tradition. His Testament is the last of a series of writings by Francis that reveals his vision of ministry. Beyond what people often call "Franciscan spirituality" stands his vision of ministry in the church. It is a manner of living in the world, being in relationship with God, and serving our sisters and brothers. The year 2009 marks the eight-hundredth anniver-sary of the order's founding. As we celebrate this mile- Daniel P. Horan OFM has written on Franciscan theology, philosophy, and spirituality. His address is Holy Name College; 1650 St. Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. horandp@gmail.com Review for Religious stone, it is good to consider Francis's example and reflect on his vision, which serves as inspiration and guidance. In this article I will highlight five themes that emerge from Francis's writings to form a ministerial ethos that is particularly Franciscan. One does not need to be a Franciscan, a Poor Clare, or a secular Franciscan to adopt a Franciscan approach. Any pastoral minister can benefit from the insights of one of the greatest saints and reformers in Christian history. Everything Done in Humble Service When Francis started his work for God, having renounced his worldly possessions and aspirations, he did penance and followed the gospel as he felt led by God.~ Soon others sought to imitate his efforts and fol-low him in what Franciscan scholar Thadd~e Matura calls the "Franciscan project." This project, while ini-tially not the goal of Francis himself, quickly grew to include thousands of friars and hundreds of sisters,z What made them follow in the footsteps of this medi-eval man and renounce property and adhere to a life of obedience and chaste celibacy? One element of the Franciscan project that emerged early was radical adherence to subordinate positions in society. Francis's early followers saw the humility of a man who left behind the life of a wealthy merchant to live among lepers and outcasts. In his Earlier Rule, Francis had instructed them where among the social strata they should strive to live. He says, "Let no one be called 'prior,' but let everyone in general be called a lesser brother. Let one wash the feet of the other." Francis continued by enjoining his brothers to be "lesser ones" always "subject to all.''3 This spirit of humility is the foundation for all the 133 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~ Franciscan ~pproach to Ministry characteristics of a Franciscan ministry. Francis was less concerned about what someone did in the world than about how someone did it. Here we see his admiration for Christ's humility as central to his spirituality: to be Francis was less cbncerned about what someonedid in the world than how someone did: a Franciscan is to live the gospel by following in the footprints of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic summarizes this well: "As Jesus turned toward those around him, so Francis and Clare in contemplation and com-passion incarnate the praxis of Jesus as they follow him in their world by turning to those around them.''4 From his incarnation and birth to his death on the cross, Jesus' life served as Francis's model for humble service. Perhaps the most succinct articulation of Francis's image of humble service is found in Admonition XIX. Here Francis says: Blessed is the servant who does not consider himself any better when he is praised and exalted by people than when he is considered worthless, simple, and looked down upon, for what a person is before God, that he is and no more. Woe to that religious who has been placed in a high position by others and [who] does not want to come down by his own will. Blessed is that servant who is not placed in a high position by his own will and always desires to be under the feet of others,s 134 Humility is a virtue of ministry, being of service to and among people, that Francis often wrote about. Besides being a reoccurring theme in his Admonitions, humility becomes a constitutive characteristic of the Franciscan way of life when it appears three times in his Review for Religious Later Rule. In chapter 3 we read, "I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be rrieek, peaceful, modest, gende, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming." Two chapters later in the same document, Francis exhorts his followers to always work humbly as servants of God and disciples of poverty. Toward the end of the Rule, Francis again reminds his followers that even amid persecution, hardship, and infirmity they are to have humility and patience while loving those who persecute them.6 Francis echoes the theme of humility at every opportunity because in this way Christ served his brothers and sisters and in this way he desired to serve. Thaddte Matura makes a keen observation about the importance of humility in Francis's way of life and in the movement he gave rise to. Matura believes that Francis was.well aware of the temptation, perhaps within him-self, for pastoral ministers to consider themselves better or above those whom they served.7 It is possible that his concern about friars judging others and seeking special privileges was rooted in his own experience as the son of a wealthy merchant, a well-off young man who was disgusted by lepers and people of lower social status. Regardless of Francis's initial motivation, we are the inheritors of a vision that inspires ministers to always put others before themselves.8 In a world that is fraught with self-centeredness and material accumulation, where even devoted ministers are tempted to seek personal reward, a humble approach to ministry remains prophetic. Relationship Takes Priority Francis's way of being-in-the-world followed the example of Jesus Christ. Michael Blastic insightfully 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry connects the divine humility that Francis recognized in the incarnation with God's outward movement toward humanity.9 It was in humility that God incarnate, Jesus Christ, entered into relationships with the people around him. All four Gospels tell of Jesus' encounters with many people: the marginalized, outcast, wealthy, powerful, average, violent, peaceful, and so on. Because he lived a perfectly humble existence among his sisters and brothers, Jesus could meet people as they were, rec-ognizing the inherent dignity of each human person. For Francis, this became a major component of his way of life and remains a Franciscan characteristic today. Vv'hile most of the preserved writings of Francis are letters, prayers, and admonitions or guidelines addressed to large numbers, we have one letter that was written to a particular minister. His identity remains anonymous, frustratingly so for many, but the anonymiW allows us to stand in his place and receive personally from Francis his wisdom concerning ministry, a touching wisdom straight from his heart. Francis is concerned about this friar's attitude and disposition, and he says: I wish to know in this way if you love the Lord and me, his servant and yours: that there is not any brother in the world who has sinned--however much he could have sinned--who, after he has looked into your eyes, would ever depart without your mercy, if he is looking for mercy.~° Mercy trumps justice. Relationship remains the pri-mary way for people to understand all their encoun-ters. Vghile this observation may appear obvious, the reason is that we are already familiar--if only subtly and indirecdy--with the Franciscan way of seeing ministry. This was not always the case. The Franciscan historian Joseph Chinnici describes the early Franciscan move- Review for Religious ment as a radically new form of "penitential human-ism." He applies this term to the Franciscan movement's effort to bring people together peacefully amid "social discord and violence." This approach to ministry puts relationship and com-munity above per-sonal journeys of faith and conversion. One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self.~ It ~ is for precisely this reason that Francis insisted that the friars be mendicants, not monks, and live with the whole world as their cloister, not limiting it to a monastery's four walls. Franciscan ministries are not simply good methods, skillful implementations of model practices. Rather, they are a project that seeks to unite those who are separated by the violence of social, political, and ecclesial dissent.12 To stress relationship as the primary approach to minis-try, Francis often used familial terms. In his Earlier Rule, he says, "Let each one love and care for his brother as a mother loves and cares for her son."13 In Francis's spirituality, such a familial understanding of relation-ship extended even beyon.d human relationships to include all of God's creation. In his most famous work, The Canticle of the Creatures, he addresses all elements as brother or sister. In an age of heightened ecological awareness, our relationship with the earth and the rest of creation can influence our ministry positively. We are called to minister to all with a deepened sense of our One's own conversion, if it is a Franciscan one, should lead toward others and away from one's own self. 137 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ ~l Franciscan ~pproacb to Minisl~ interdependence and relatedness as children of God and brothers and sisters of all God's creation. Avoid Attachment There is great wisdom in a mendicant model of life. In a life of detachment from personal property, pasto-ral ministers become less preoccupied with their status, their control, their "things." If a particular ministry does not "belong" to a particular minister, one becomes a curator, a caretaker, one who takes good care of some-thing of value not one's own. This contrasts with the oligarchic approach, a small group's limited vision often preventing a ministry's expansion or creativity. Francis was quite convinced that appropriation of anything, including one's work as a minister, would lead to other problems. His Earlier Rule is filled with admonitions and warnings about the danger of attachment. In chap-ter 7 he says, "Wherever the brothers may be, either in hermitages or other places, let them be careful not to make any place their own or contend with anyone for it." He goes on to say, "Guard yourselves against the anxieties of this world and the cares of this life," and summarizes by saying: "Let all the brothers strive to follow the humility and poverty of our Lord Jesus Christ, and let them remember that we should have nothing else in the whole world except as the Apostle says: "Having food and clothing, we are content with these" (1 Tm 6:8).14 While today most ministers, including professed Franciscan women and men, would find it difficult to live in this world strictly observing the instruction above, the key to Francis's insight is found in the word "strive." We understand this as a more perfect vision of an imperfect manner of living in this world. It is the Review for Religious model that pastoral ministers should have in their work, striving in humility and poverty to not appropriate the work as their own. Thy Will Be Done Naturally, the divestment of property and ownership of even one's ministry leads to the question: Then to whom does it belong? For Francis the answer is simple: M1 good things come from and belong to God. It is in the perfect prayer of Christians that we find the source and purpose of our ministerial endeavors, "Thy will be done." When our efforts in ministry become more about our will, our ambition, or our desires, then we have left the realm of ministry and entered some level of self-centeredness. Closely linked to Francis's view of attachment is his understanding that all ministry is the work of God for God. This understanding affirms and renews people's vocation to service. It directs the gaze of ministers from themselves back to God as the source of their inspiration to follow their ministerial vocation. Francis often wrote about God's will in connection with his own ministry and that of the Friars Minor. In his Letter to the Entire Order, Francis reminds his broth-ers of their vocation and its connection to God's will. He writes: "Give praise to him because he is good; exalt him by your deeds; for this reason he has sent you into the whole world: that you may bear witness to his voice in word and deed and bring everyone to know that there is no one who is all-powerful except him.'ns Matura highlights this thought of Francis when he says, "Anything good that we have or do, no matter how personal it is, comes to us from God, and we are only administrators of that good, as it were.'n6 In addition to the proper attribution of our gifts and vocation to 139 68.2 2009 Horan ¯ A Franciscan Approach to Ministry God, this thought frees us of the weighty burdens of self-sufficiency and responsibility. Unhampered by the pressure ministers frequendy put on themselves, we are free to be God's instruments, working in partnership with Christ and others. In this way we leave the world of "lone rangers" and enter the community of Christians working toward the kingdom. I'40 Pray without Ceasing A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a life of prayer. Those who adopt this approach are not just people who pray, but people whose words and actions are also prayer. This lived prayer is con-stant openness to conversion, allowing God to enter and transform lives from worldly concern and triviality to authentic gospel living--in Christ's footsteps, as God's instruments of peace today. In a brief letter to St. Anthony of Padua, Francis responded to his request for permission to teach the-ology. This was a new initiative, for up to this time Franciscans had largely avoided academic ministry. Francis was cautious of higher education because of the tendency of the educated to think better of themselves, look down on others, and move away from the charac-teristics of ministry we have examined above. Francis knew of Anthony's gifts, however, and knew that many friars had asked for his instruction in theology. Francis told Anthony, "I am pleased that you teach .sacred the-ology to the brothers providing that, as is contained in the Rule, you 'do not extinguish the Spirit of prayer and devotion' during study of this kind.''17 Even a ministry as basic as training other friars for pastoral ministry was viewed as secondary to prayer and devotion. Francis writes in his Earlier Rule that those who Review for Religious come after him are to love the Lord God, who has given everyone everything, with their whole heart, soul, mind, strength, understanding, powers, effort, affection, feel-ing, desire, and wish. This is not to be an occasional experience or portion of time apart from the rest of life, but the modus operandi of ministry. Later in the same text Francis writes: Wherever we are, in every place, at every hour, at every time of the day, every day and continually, let all of us truly and humbly believe and hold in our heart and love, honor, adore, serve, praise and bless, glorify and exalt, magnify and give thanks to the Most High and Supreme Eternal God, Trinity and Unity.'s This is another echo of the Franciscan understanding that one's entire life should be given back to God as prayer. Such a life naturally nourishes a vocation to service and ministry. When one's actions are directed back to God with humil-ity, with relationship as the priority, without encumber-ing attachments, and with recognition of everything as God's work, then life is transformed into prayer. Ministry then is not a person's self-motivated effort or effectiveness, but the outpouring of God's gifts received prayerfully and gratefully and sharbd with others. Eight hundred years after the first Franciscan began to do ministry in the small town of Assisi, we find our-selves inspired by Francis's example to continue the mission of God's work in our world. Regardless of our particular manifestation of God's work, all pastoral min-isters can find renewed life and purpose by reflecting A Franciscan approach to ministry must always flow from a 'life of prayer. 141 68.2 2009 Horan * .4 Franciscan AIqn'oacb to Ministry on a Franciscan approach to ministry. Humility keeps us approachable and ready to give loving service. The priority we give to relationship brings us to places where we can best foster loving unity among our sisters and brothers and grateful respect for all of creation. Detachment helps to seek the right things, without being distracted by worldly concerns. Recalling that God is the source of all our gifts and our personal voca-tion puts our work into perspective, while bolstering our purpose to work hand in hand with God. Finally, more than just say prayers, we strive to live lives that are prayers, lives that help bring God's love to our world. Notes i Francis of Assisi, "The Testament," verses 1 and 14, in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999), pp. 124 & 125. Further citations of this first volume will be noted as FAED followed by page numbers. 2 Thaddde Matura, "Francis of Assisi and His Posterity Today," in Gospel Living: Francis of Assisi Yesterday and Today, ed. Elise Saggau (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1994), pp. 263-267. Matura compares Francis to Jesus while explaining similarities of the Franciscan orders and the church. While Francis is held as the founder and model for the three Franciscan orders (much as Jesus is for the church), he is not credited with intentionally founding a new movement in the proper sense (see p. 264). ~ Francis of Assisi, "The Earlier Rule," 6:3-4 and 7:2, in FAED, p. 68. 4 Michael Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion: A Franciscan Ministerial Spirituality," in Spirit and Life, vol. 7, ed. Anthony Carrozzo, Vincent Cushing, and Kenneth Himes (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 172. s Francis, "Admonition 19: A Humble Servant of God," in FAED, p. 135. 6 Francis, "The Later Rule," 3:10-11 (emphasis added), 5:4, and 10:7-10, in FAED, pp. 102-105. r Thadd~e Matura, Francis of Assisi: The Message in His Writings, Review for Religious trans. Paul Barrett (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 1997), p. 167. s St. Bonaventure, the Franciscan saint and doctor of the church, later wrote about the importance of humility in the evangelical life, beginning his treatise Disputed Questions on Evangelical Perfection with that topic. See Works of St. Bonaventure, vol. 13, trans. Thomas Reist and Robert Karris (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2008). 9 Blastic, "Contemplation and Compassion," p. 153. 10Francis, "A Letter to a Minister," verse 9, in FAED, p. 97. 11 Joseph Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism: Rereading the Sources to Develop a Franciscan Urban Spirituality," in Franciscans in Urban Ministry, ed. Roberta McKelvie (St. Bonaventure, N.Y.: Franciscan Institute, 2002), pp. 119-122. ~2 See Chinnici, "Penitential Humanism," p. 123. 13 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 9:1 I, in FAED, p. 71. ~4' Francis, "Earlier Rule," 7:13, 8:2, and 9:1, in F~IED, pp. 69-70. is Francis, "A Letter to the Entire Order," verses 8-9, in FAED, p. 117. 16 Matura, Francis ofAssisi, p. 132. 17 Francis, "A Letter to Brother Anthony of Padua," verse 2, in FAED, p. 107. 18 Francis, "Earlier Rule," 23:8 and 23:11, in FAED, pp. 84 & 85. Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion 1. What model or approach do I currently use in my pastoral ministry? 2. In what ways do Francis's insights speak to me today? 3. What characteristics of a Franciscan approach to ministry do I live particularly well? Where could I strive to improve? 68.2 2009 DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship and Walking by Faith God never deceives us. When we entrust our life to him and allow him to direct us, he ensures that all goes well. We may not know where he is lead-ing us. We only see the present, and nothing beyond it. Indeed, even the present is sometimes not clear, and in any case it reaches beyond itself into the future. The present invites to us to keep moving despite perplexity. Here our faith is our strength. Faith propels us forward. So long as we know that God is with us, we can afford to take the next step. We need not be apprehensive. We can be certain that we shall reach our destination even if we have to move slowly and sometimes with some frustradon. Without faith we do not see that God is leading us. If we step out into the unknown future at his bidding, it is likely that we will persevere to the end (see Heb 11). Damian C. Ilodigwe last wrote for us in early 2008. He is a priest and lecturer in philosophy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.com Review for Religious We should trust God at each step, even when we do not know what lies ahead. He shows us his plan piecemeal. An aspect of faith is trust. We can think here of chil-dren and mothers. Usually young children are wholly dependent on their mother. She gives instruction, and the child wonders about it. But this wondering does not prevent the child from carrying out the mother's bidding. He may ask questions, of course, but unless he is simply seeking some clarification he will not get very far. He will not be permitted to ignore or resist what his mother asks him to do. Usually children know, for their own good, when they had better obey. Usually they carry out their mother's instruction even when they do not fully understand. What is true of the relation between children and their mother is true of our relationship with God. Like little children, we need to give God our utter trust (Lk 11:5-13; 18:1-8). Because our faith tells us that God acts in our best interest, we can afford to follow his bidding no matter the inconveniences we feel to be associated with it. A childlike simplicity in our relationship with God is an index of vibrant faith and of maturity in this relationship (Lk 12:22-31). The' Case of Abraham In the life of Abraham we find an example of this childlike faith. He is ready to do the Lord's bidding even when this involves a great deal of sacrifice. Many instances in his life illustrate his utter commitment to God. Consider the divine request to leave his country for another land: "Leave your country, your family, and your father's house, for the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name so famous that it will be used as a blessing. I will 68.2 2009 llodig'we ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith In the life of abraham we find an exa ple ff bless those who bless you; I will curse those who slight you; all the tribes on earth shall bless themselves by you" (Gn 12:1-2). How could God ask Abraham to do a thing like this?1 The demand appears extravagant and even ridiculous. Is it reasonable to leave his native place, where all his friends are? He is established here. He has security here. To leave means leaving good memories and property behind and beginning all over again. As the saying goes, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. It is foolish to abandon what has proved itself over the years without a good clear reason. That rea-son would be that the change will certainly make things better. But, for Abraham, the future is a clouded certainty. All that is certain is that he should leave and that he will be shown another land. Regarding the particulars of the promised land, he knows nothing. He is told, though, that from him will come a great nation. That promise appears less attractive than it might because of its general vagueness. Yet at another level it provides a certain motivation because it comes from God, from Abraham's faith in God. It is only faith that can quickly overcome the disenchantment pr0~oked by lack of information about this promised land. Abraham is certainly a man of faith. For, in spite of the obvious per-plexities associated with this directive, he. takes the bull by the horns. He understands that it is the Lord speak-ing and that he knows what he is doing. Consequently he sets out as the Lord has told him to do. Scripture tells us that Abraham is seventy-five years old when he Review for Religious leaves Haran. He takes his wife, Sarai, and the people they.have acquired in Haran. Their journey takes them to Canaan (Gn 12:4-5). Abram's age of seventy-five is significant, emphasizing the great inconvenience of this movement. He is not a young man eager to be off on his own. So in a sense it is a blind journey. God guides him. As is always the case, the Lord does not ask us to do something and then leave us to our own design. He does not leave us on our own. He provides for us one step at a time. The entire picture can never be available to us all at once. As Abram journeys, he comes to Shechem's Oak of Moreh, in Canaan. The Lord appears to him and says he will give this land to his descendants. Abram builds an altar there. He proceeds to the hill country east of Bethel and then to the Negeb (Gn 12:7-9). Although Abram has stepped out into the unknown, he is never alone. He knows in faith that the Lord is with him through all the stages of his journey. And so he is our father in faith (Heb 11:8). He is wholly sub-missive to God, and God does not fail him. Abraham becomes the father' of a multitude of nations. The Challenges of Discipleship and Our Contemporary Situation At this juncture we may ask what we can learn from Abraham's experience. We can learn much regarding the challenges of discipleship. Our life, too, is a journey, a journey of faith towards God's kingdom. God calls each of us out of our various backgrounds to pursue a special life journey, a pilgrimage to a distant destination. The fundamental truth about this is that God is with us all the time, even when we do not take cognizance of him. His presence empowers us to be what he wants us to be. '147 68.2 2009 Ilodig~ve ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith Without evidence we are likely to feel discdnnected, His providence sustains us and guides every.aspect of our life. We need to let this truth have an impact on the way we live our life each day. We need to entrust ourselves completely to that providence. "For those who --~ love God, all things work together unto good." We may not understand just how they fit together now or will fit together in the end, but we cannot doubt that they do fit together. God's love, acting as a redemptive principle, inte-grates every aspect of our experience, bringing every-thing into God's ultimate plan for us all. The practical implication of this truth, then, is that we must learn to walk by faith rather than by sight.2 There is a world of difference' between walking by faith and walking by sight. When we walk by mere sight, we are all the time looking for visible, tangible, measur-able evidence of what we should do or should have done. For many purposes and many aspects of reality, there is such evidence, but for other purposes there is none. We may feel that without that kind of evidence there is no reality. If so, we are likely to feel disconnected. We are likely to feel we are living within limited horizons, likely to have a vague feeling that we are missing something. Not enjoying that feeling, we give oursel~es a warrant to deny there is any reality behind our vague feeling. We decide not to let ourselves be affected by what we claim is unreality. We refuse to be open to it. On the other hand, our admittedly limited knowl-edge even of the physical world should persuade us to see and affirm that the fullness of reality is far broader 148] Review for Religious than, say, the empirical data we have of the astrophysi-cal universe or the jungles of Brazil. We may lack the resources to fully penetrate such real worlds, and the world of faith as well, but we do not have reason to deny their reality and the impact they can and should have upon us.3 We need not deny spiritual reality even though we lack tangible and visible data that serve as empirical evi-dence. Spirituality's reality is accessible to faith. Faith transcends the evidence of the empirical sciences. When we walk by faith, we find ourselves in some sense at home in all of reality. The experience of Abram challenges us. Because he walked by faith, he was able to see far beyond the lim-ited reality of his time and place. Ready to journey with the Lord, he stepped out into the unknown that in some way he could actually see. In time he realized much of the promise he had. received. Abram's faith was his sav-ing grace. In our dealing with the Lord, some tension remains between the way of faith and the way of mere sight. . Sometimes we may walk ahead of the Lord or far behind him, and thus miss some of what we would have received from him. When our faith is stronger, we are better able to synchronize our mind and heart with God. We see better what he sees; we dream better the dream that he dreams for us; we see a road even when our ordinary sight sees no road. In short, our world of possibilities becomes larger; we live our lives more abundantly. Thomas's Encounter with the Risen Lord Consider Thomas. He did not believe when the other apostles told him they had seen the Lord. He insisted that unless he touched Jesus' wounds he would 149 68.2 2009 llodigwe ¯ Discipleship and Walking by Faith 1501 not believe (Jn 20:24-25). His predicament is under-standable. He cannot transcend the inclination to walk by sight. He demands empirical evidence in a matter that requires faith. The reality of the risen Lord is not accessible to, cannot be contained in, the limited world of empirical evidence. This becomes clear to Thomas when the Lord grants his demand for evidence. "Put your finger here, and look at my hands; then stretch out your hand and put it in my side. Stop your doubting and believe." Thomas says, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus says to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe!" On 20:26-29). Thomas wants empirical evidence in order to believe, and he is granted the rare privilege of touching and seeing. But the Lord does not fail to make clear that this privilege is not really necessary. Indeed, it is argu-able that it is not the empirical evidence that generates Thomas's confession. Thomas could have touched the Lord and still not believed. There is another factor, the factor of grace. One cannot come into the presence of the risen Lord without being positively affected. That is what seems to have happened in Thomas's case. It is clear that what really matters is faith, not sight: "Happy are those who believe without seeing me." Without empirical evidence they believe, and this is what makes them blessed. The experience of the risen Lord is paradoxically a reward for their faith. It is their faith, not empirical evidence, that opens them to the reality of the risen Lord. Faith is a gift. through and through. God's gift, the presence of God, is received and perceived through faith. If we turn again to the experience of Abraham, we note that he avoids the tension between the way Review for Religious of faith and the way of sight. He does not ask for evi-dence as Thomas does. He is ready to step out into the unknown simply because he believes it is the Lord speaking. Faith sustains him on his travel. Faith brings him to the promised land. But before this ever comes to pass in time, faith has already enabled him to realize the promised land spiritually. The claim of faith is certainly one we cannot afford to ignore in our everyday struggle. We need to keep in mind the distinction between the way of faith and the way of sight. So as to realize our full destiny in the Lord, we must cultivate the habit of walking by faith rather than by sight, bringing faith into every aspect of our existence. It will enrich our vision of life and increase our ability to deal appropriately with all that occurs in our day-to-day living. In carefully fostered faith, the unthinkable becomes thinkable, the impossible becomes possible, and our entire life will be lighted by the glory of God. Notes I Even more extravagant is the later demand that he sacrifice Isaac, the child of promise. Here, too, Abraham's response marks him as a model of faith. See Genesis 22. z See Ralph C. Martin, Called to Holiness (Mumbai: St Pauls, 2001), pp. 101-117. 3 Faith and reason complement each other. Indeed, as Pope John Paul I! famously remarked, "Faith and Reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth" (Fides et ratio, §7). 151 68.2 2009 VIRGINIA M. HERBERS Reparation and the Sacred Heart: A New Interpretation renewing religious traditions The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis was pro-mulgated in 1965 to guide renewal "in order that the great value of a life consecrated by the profession of the counsels and its necessary mission today may yield greater good to the church" (PC §1). Thirty years later John Paul II affirmed that "the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a precious and necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God" (Vita consecrata, §3). In fidelity to the council's call and in response to the pope's call for authentic interpretation of founding charisms, the Apostles of the Sacred Heart of Jesus have in recent years striven to understand Virginia M. Herbers ASCJ is vocation director of the Aposdes of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and director of Queen of Apostles Spirituality Center; 800 Montebello Camp Road; Imperial, Missouri 63052. svhascj@yahoo.com Revie~ for Religious authentically the role and relevance of reparation within the Sacred Heart devotion. This effort has led me to believe that, just as religious consecration still has significance in the world today, so too does reparation. I affirm Karl Rahner's claim in 1966 that devotion to the Sacred Heart is not a dated, old-fashioned piety, but rather is quite relevant today. He later insisted that this devotion is indispensable "since the future of the church was decided by the love of the heart of Jesus in dying and depends on the final decision of Our own hearts."' I think Rahner is correct. I would add that consecrated life itself can be understood as a lived interpretation of Sacred Heart devotion, and that the religious profession of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart demonstrates the proper understanding of repa-ration in the Sacred Heart devotion. This community's charism illuminates a unique aspect of God's love, pro-viding for the entire church a renewed understanding of our baptismal vocation (see PC §1). To appreciate this charism of reparation, a brief look at the religious vows and the Sacred Heart devotion will provide helpful background. Let us take them in turn. The Evangelical Counsels Vita consecrata asserts that religious vows are not an initiative of the individual religious, but a response of the individual to God's call: "The experience of this gracious love of God is so deep and so powerful that the person called senses the need to respond by unconditionally dedi-cating his or her life to God" (VC §17). The profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience is the consecrated person's response of love to the One who loves her infinitely. Hearing the call and responding to God's love is not unique to those in religious life; it is implicit in 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart baptismal consecration. Profession of the evangelical counsels does not set religious apart from the body of the faithful as holier, closer to God, or more perfect. It is not a consecration differing in essence from baptismal consecration. Rather, it is rooted in baptism. It is an intensification of baptismal consecration for mission; it is a specification of the baptismal call.2 As such, it is a sign to all the baptized of what and who we are called to become as followers of Christ and members of his Body. "Religious life 'clearly, strikingly, astonishingly' ¯ . . leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization.''3 Profession of the evangelical counsels is thus a rec-ognition by religious of the fullness of God's love for all, and a response to that love with the gift of their entire lives. Through the vows of chastity, poverty, and obe-dience, religious center their lives on the "God-quest" and proclaim that "I commit my whole self, everything and forever, to the undying love that has claimed me for the transformation of the world." Profession of vows is thus "a unitary and unifying act, a solemn, formal, and public act, by which a person takes her whole life into her hands and freely disposes of it in self-gift to Christ and his Body within the congregation."4 Sacred Heart Devotion Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity, devel-oping direcdy from incarnational theology,s Humanity recognizes God's love in the love of the God-man, Jesus Christ, as shown specifically in his heart. The incarna-tion allows human beings to experience God's love in Review for Religious tangible human ways. The heart of Jesus reveals the heart of God, embodied and enfieshed. This capac-ity has implications for all who follow Christ, for "the only Son of God, in becoming incarnate, takes on a human heart [and] we are called to share in this love and to receive through the Holy Spirit this extraordinary capacity to love.''6 Devotion to the Sacred Heart, then, is not devo-tion to an abstract symbol, but devotion to the per-son of Jesus and his love for each human being. The incarnation gives humanity access to what was formerly inacces-sible, God's very self, during Jesus' earthly life and now in his Mystical Body, the church. In the heart of Jesus, God calls us to "become what we receive"7 and to incarnate God's love ourselves as members of Christ's Mystical Body. What, then, does the heart of Jesus teach us about the incarnate love of God? Devotion to the Sacred Heart encompasses four characteristics of God's love: (1) Christ's heart shows us that the incarnate love of God is a continuing, dynamic reality, not an abstract theory or historical event; the heart of God is enfleshed in the body of Jesus and continues to beat in his Body, the church. (2) Christ's heart is a heart wherein two natures--human and divine-~coexist in perfect harmony. (3) Christ's heart is on fire with love for all humanity, both in general and in particular. (4) Christ's heart is an Devotion to the Sacred Heart has traditionally been understood as an icon of God's love for humanity. 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart open, broken heart--opened by the soldier's lance after the sacrifice of his human life, and broken by human sin, weakness, and error. The Religious Vows: Returning Love for Love Given the understanding that religious vows are a response to love and a sign for all the faithful of our common call to share in Christ's mission, and given the understanding that Sacred Heart devotion is (a) an ongoing dynamic expression of God's incarnate love, (b) exemplified in the love of Jesus' heart, which is in perfect union with the Father and the Spirit, (c) con-tinually on fire with love for us, and (d) still wounded by humanity's rejection of divine love even while revealing through the open wound the ultimate gift of his life, we now turn to the modern relevance of the religious vows as a distinct and poignant means of living Sacred Heart devotion. The consecrated religious professes vows as a return of love for Love, as a response from her heart to the outpouring~of God's love upon her. The very act of con-secrated profession can be interpreted as a profound act of Sacred Heart devotion, as attested by John Paul II: "Through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice . In this way the likeness of that love which in the heart of Christ is both redemptive and spousal is imprinted on the religious profession" (Redemptionis donum, §8). Acknowledging and accepting the love of God and responding "in kind" are not enough, however. The Sacred Heart of God incarnate is not a mere image to be worshiped or just a pious practice to be encouraged. The encyclical on Sacred Heart devotion, Haurietis Review for Religious aquas, quotes Thomas Aquinas on this point: "Religious worship is not paid to images, considered in themselves, as things; but according as they are representations lead-ing to God incarnate. The approach which is made to the image as such does not stop there, but continues towards that which is represented.''8 In a similar way, professing vows in the church as a response to God's love commits religious to loving service of the church and, not stopping there, to loving service of the incar-nate Word of God. Our acceptance of God's love in baptism transforms us; in religious profession this baptismal transformation shapes our likeness to Christ, compelling us to return his love by following his example of ministering self-lessly to all those in need. Pope Benedict XVI expresses this directly: "When we practice this devotion, not only do we recognize God's love with gratitude but we con-tinue to open ourselves to this love so that our lives are ever more closely patterned upon it . The experience of God's love should be lived by men and women as a 'calling' to which they must respond. Fixing our gaze on the Lord. helps us to become more attentive to the suffering and needs of others.''9 Interior devotion is thus manifested in ministerial outreach. The three vows constitute a unique expression of Sacred Heart devotion, corresponding to specific char-acteristics of incarnate love. The heart of Jesus is a heart both human and divine, the heart of a man and the heart of God. Within one heart, two natures coex-ist in a mysterious unity that leaves each distinct yet undivided. Jesus' human heart beats in rhythm with the heart of God; his human will is perfectly synchronized with the will of God. The desire of the man corresponds completely with the desire of God for the man. 157 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and tbe Sacred Heart In this lies the kernel of religious obedience--to have our hearts beat in time with the heart of God. Consecrated persons who vow obedience strive to desire what God desires, to will what God wills, to attune their hearts to the heart of God. "To want the same thing, and to reject the same thing, was recognizeff by antiq-uity as the authentic content of love: the one becomes similar to the other, and this leads to a community of will and thought,m° Genuine obedience is not confor-mity to an external authority nor submission to a will foreign to our own. The vow of obedience "in its deep-est roots is a dedication to freedom, not to subjection or servitude . True freedom is to be found in union with the will of God."1' The vow of chastity expresses devotion to the heart of Christ by expressing his love for all people. Just as the Sacred Heart is "a heart on fire," so by vowing chastity do religious enkindle the fire of love in their own heart. Sandra Schneiders insists'that the vow of chastity "must be based on a deep religious experience of being loved by God in Jesus and an experienced per-sonaL fulfillment in returning that love." She adds that this vow "leads the person toward personal transforma-tion in love and allows the person to participate mean-ingfully in the emergence of a new, whole, and loving world characterized by equality, responsible intimacy, and mutuality."12 Clelia Merloni, the founder of the Apostles of the Sacred Heart, describes the "fire of love" kindled by the apostle's vow of chastity as holy zeal: "You see, daugh-ters, wherever the fire of divine love is, it cannot remain hidden or idle, but at once it manifests itself as the liv-ing flame of a holy zeal . Remember, daughters, that zeal must be active, untiring, gentle, and prudent: zeal Reuiew for Religio~.s does not inflame the heart without manifesting itself in works."13 By vowing lives of consecrated celibacy, reli-gious perpetually submit to the consuming fire Of God's love, which in turn impels them to share that love with everyone she encounters in an inclusive, not exclusive, way. Professing chastity enables religious to fan into flame a love that embraces all, recognizing in each face the face of God. As Benedict xvI wrote in Deus caritas est (§ 15), "The concept of 'neighbor' is now universal-ized, yet it remains concrete. Despite .being extended to all mankind, it is not reduced to a generic, abstract, and undemanding expression of love, but calls for my own practical commitment in the here and now." The vow of chastity calls us to embrace each while embracing all, to love particularly w~ithout loving restrictively, to love universally and specifically. Pierre Teilhard de Chardifi described the source .and the consequence of this type of loving as fire: "Under the symbol of the Sacred Heart, the divine assumed for me the form, the strength, and the properties of an energy, of a fire . Through its power to become universal, this fire proved able to invade and impregnate with love the whole atmosphere of the world in which I lived.''~4 By professing poverty, religious make yet another return of love for Love, mirroring the woundedness of Christ's heart. John Paul II says that "on Golgotha Jesus' heart was pierced by a lance as a sign of his total self-giving, of that sacrificial and saving love with which he 'loved us to the end'" On 13:1).15 By accepting death at the hands, of humanity, the God-man sacrificed all for love. "From the infinite power proper to God, the heart of Christ did not retain anything except the unarmed power of the love that forgives . In the heart of Christ are encountered divine riches and human poverty."~6 68.2 2009 Herbers ¯ Reparation and the Sacred Heart In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through responding to the suffering ofhis heart in the poor of .today's~worl~d. 160 This kenosis, this. self-emptying, is the expression of Love to which the vow of poverty responds. In accept-ing death Christ accepted all and gave all. In professing poverty religious do likewise--accepting all that is given them from the hand of the Father and giving all in a return of love for Love. This is devotion to the open heart of Christ. In the profession of poverty, devotion to the broken heart of Christ is made tangible also through respond-ing to the suffering of his heart in the poor of today's world. For vowed reli-gious, devotion to the Sacred Heart includes recognition that his heart remains broken, suffering as people continue to betray and reject love, to ignore and neglect the hurt-ing, to strike first. The world's physical, emo-tional, psychological, and mental pain con-tinually shows the heart of Jesus suffering in his Body. Clelia Merloni insisted that "The heart of Jesus, disguised as this particular sick person, calls you to a mission of charity, since the sick make up the very body of Jesus.''17 Clelia exhorts her sister apostles to recognize that where there is sickness, pain, or suffering, there is the open, broken heart of Christ. The profession and living of poverty expresses solidarity with all those who are wounded in and by society, and expresses union with Christ's broken heart suffering today. By professing evangelical poverty, con- Review for Religious secrated religious commit themselves "to eliminating structures of oppression and to promoting projects of solidarity for the benefit of the poor" (VC §89). Only as the poor can we hope to alleviate the suffering of the poor.~8 Through their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence, consecrated religious express their love with the entirety of their lives. This threefold consecration uni-fies all religious communities. Their distinctive charisms are demonstrated by their various ways of expressing this consecration. The founder of my congregation, Clelia Merloni, was entrusted with a particular charism within Sacred Heart devotion--a charism to be apostles of the Sacred Heart. Her apostles were to be characterized by zeal and charity, but more importantly by one aspect of Sacred Heart devotion: reparation. She pleads with her apostles to make their lives relevant to the church's mission in the world: "Our congregation needs subjects who are strong and robust in virtue, not pious statues!''19 Sacred Heart devotion, for Clelia and her apostles, always implies responding to the living heart of Christ through lives of reparation. Zeal and charity are insufficient for those professing vows as Apostles of the Sacred Heart. Only when we are motivated by a spirit of reparation can we be seen clearly as apostles of the Sacred Heart devo-tion. What, then, is the nature, meaning, and relevance of the reparation this congregation fosters? A New Interpretation of Reparation Theologically reparation has often been mistakenly equated with atonement and expiation. Atonement is "an act of divine love that effects a new state of things, the peaceful relationship between God and man. Man is reconciled to God. atonement is effected through the 161 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart blood of the cross . man is placed in a new relation to God.''2° Atonement, therefore, is effected once and for all in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Christ's death and resurrection made humanity "at-one" with God, reconciling a broken relationship, correcting and reversing the effects, of human sinfulness, thus mak-ing humanity's "atonement" not only unnecessary but impossible. Expiation is closely related to. atonement in that it is appeasement by sacrifice, specifically the sac-rifice of Jesus' death, which appeased God's justice and "remove[d] the cause of the sinner's alienation from God in. order to restore him to holiness and divine favor.''2' Taken to their logical ends, these notions of atone-ment and expiation .seem to perceive "the love of God given us in Christ Jesus" as either correction of a rela-tionship gone awry or Christ's willing acceptance of the penalty of death due us. In this context, the practice of reparation seems to be about "repairing" broken-ness, "atoning for" sinfulness, and "making up" for wrongdoing as we model our life on Jesus Christ. This is the vision of reparation in Pius XI's 1928 encycli-cal Miserentissimus Redemptor (§18): "Whosoever of the faithful have piously pondered on all these things must needs be inflamed with the charity of Christ in his agony and make a more vehement endeavor to expi-ate their own faults and those of others, to repair the honor of Christ, and to promote the eternal salvation of souls." This "atoning" and "expiative" sense speaks of a need for humanity to repent, convert, and wor-ship, but nowhere does it speak of the invitation given to humanity to love in the face of brokenness, that the heart of God may be loved and not rejected. I propose that, in the context of Sacred Heart devotion, reparation speaks direcdy of this invitation: "The focus of God's Review for Religious ¯ forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt and more on a transformation of relation-ships-- with God and with other human beings."22 As seen above, religious consecration is a response of love prompted by the recognition and humble accep-tance of the unconditional, sacrificial love of God. Each of the vows has been shown to uniquely manifest, in the light of devotion to the Sacred Heart, a particular aspect of our loving response. Reparation, as a dis-tinctive response of love, is a particular expression of Sacred Heart devotion. It is a response of love to the broken heart of Christ, as when we see someone we love (and also Someone) hurting, broken, bleeding, and in pain, and want to--need to, are impelled t0--respond in manners worthy of love. William Temple, archbishop of Canterbury during World War II, claimed that the motive for reparation is that we not "go on wounding one who accepts our wounds like that; we are filled with fear, not the old craven fear of punishment, but the fear of wounding the tenderest of all hearts.''23 Reparation does not necessar-ily seek to repair the wrongdoing (for we may not be responsible for it), but seeks to respond to the broken heart of our loved One by offering concrete, tangible acts of love. This authentic healing power of reparation '~"The focus of God's forgiveness in Christ is less on a word that is spoken to assuage guilt .and more on a transformation of relationships-with God andwith othe~r human beings." 163 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 164 was understood by Aquinas: "When one. is in pain, it is natural that the sympathy of a friend should afford con-solation., because, when a man's friends console him, he sees that he is loved by them, and this affords him pleasure. Consequently, since every pleasure assuages sorrow, it follows that sorrow is mitigated by a sympa-thizing friend" (ST I-II.38.3). To extend this idea to how human acts of love serve as loving reparation to Christ, John Paul II said in another place: "In the heart of Christ the human heart comes., to unite filial love for God with love for the neighbor. In this way--and this is the true meaning of the reparation asked for by the heart of the Savior--on the ruins heaped up by hatred and violence can be built the civilization of love so greatly desired, the kingdom of the heart of Christ.''24 For the Apostles of. the Sacred Heart, it is imperative that they understand rightly their mission in the church and their ministry in the world. Their witness of repara-tive love can show all the faithful what their response to the brokenness of our world must be. Reparation, far from being an obsolete relic, is an essential component of Clelia Merloni's charism, and a unique way for her apostles to live their vows of poverty, chastity, and obe-dience. Experiencing Jesus as God's incarnate love, they are called to respond as incarnate love to his open heart still broken in the woundedness of his loved ones. In respond-ing, they are not merely practicing their own personal spirituality; they are engaging in their ministry. As Pius XII said in Haurietis aquas (§112), "In show-ing devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus, the external acts of piety have not the first or most impor-tant place; nor is its essence to be found primarily in the benefits to be obtained." Rather, reparation must be a dynamic response of love, reaching out to the broken- Review for Religious ness of humanity--at any given moment, in any given circumstance. "The practical good that emerges in the event [of reparative love] is seen not only in the inward realm of personal and spiritual values, but in the trans-formation of the material order through which the val-ues are expressed.''25 Living her congregation's motto, "Caritas Christi urget nos!" (2 Co 5:14), consumed by the love of God given her in Christ Jesus, an apostle the Sacred Heart "returns love for Love" by the gift of her life of vowed chastity and reaches out to ev.eryone in selfless service. By her vowed obedience she matches her heartbeat to the heart of God. By their vowed poverty she is free to give her all to the broken hearts around her. She accepts humbly the gifts she receives from the incarnate, inflamed, obedient, and open heart of Jesus and returns them as her gift to his Body, the church. The reparative value of these gifts lies in its heal-ing power for the broken heart of Christ in the church and in the world. Reparation from this n~w perspective is most assuredly, then, not merely valuable for those among the faithful who may be attracted to it as a pious practice, but a vital mission entrusted to each mem-ber of the church. Reparative love is the love of God poured out through us, incarnate in the members of Christ's Body, embodied in real hands and real hearts. Reparative love speaks a word of selflessness to a world broken by hatred and individualism. It lives a life of generosity in a world broken by selfishness and fear. It breathes a promise of forgiveness for a world broken by resentment and injustice and gives a hand of compassion to a world broken by suspicion and greed. Reparation is anything but old-fashioned piety entrenched in sen-timentalism or self-derogation. Rightly understood in the brokenness of our contemporary experience, repa- 165 68.2 2009 Herbers * Reparation and the Sacred Heart 166. ration is the tender answer of hearts on fire, yearning to express themselves boldly, so that brokenness and woundedness may always and only be answered with all-consuming love, centered in God, reaching out to every one of God's beloved people. Notes I Quoted in Annice Callahan, Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart (Lanham, Maryland: University Press of America, 1985), pp. 108, 110-111. 2 See Patricia E Walter, "Religious Life in Church Documents," Review for Religious 51, no. 4 (July-August 1992), and Nadine Foley, "The Nature and Future of Religious Life," Origins 19, no. 13 (1989): 212. 3 Michael Himes, "Returning to Our Ancestral Lands," Review for Religious 59, no. 1 (January-February 2000): 18. 4 Sandra Schneiders, Selling All (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), pp. 108, 114. s It is important to be aware of this rich history as we examine Sacred Heart devotion from a modern perspective. For a more com-prehensive examination of the history of the devotion, see Timothy O'Donnell's Heart of the Redeemer (Manassas, Virginia: Trinity Communications, 1989) and Joseph Stierli's Heart of the Saviour: A Symposium on Devotion to the Sacred Heart (New York: Herder and Herder, 1958). 6john Paul II, "Letter to Bishop Raymond Seguy, Bishop of Autun, Chalon, and Macon, June 22, 1990," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, ed. Carl J. Moell SJ (New York: Crossroad, 2004), p. 210. 7 Augustine, Sermons on the New Testament 7(7). s Thomas Aquinas, ST 1/-1/.81.3 ad 3. See Pius XII, Haurietis aquas (1956), §103. 9 Benedict xvI, letter on the fiftieth anniversary of Haurietis aquas, 15 May 2006. 10 Benedict XVI, Deus caritas est (2005), §17. '~ Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), p. 109. ,2 Schneiders, New Wineskins, pp. 105, 106. ~3 Clelia Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, ed. Pierpaula de Farias (Rome: privately printed, 1992), pp. 167, t73. Review for Religious ,4 Quoted in Christopher E Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery of Christ (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday Image, 1968), pp. 28-29. 15 John Paul II, "Homily during Sacred Heart devotions and beati-fication of Father Stefan Wincenty Frelichowski, at the Aviation Club in Torun, June 7, 1999," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 112. 16 John Paul II, "Homily at the Polyclinic of the Agostino Gemelli University Hospital in Rome, June 28, 1984," in Holy Father, Sacred Heart, p. 47. 17 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 167. ,s James Alison poignandy elucidates this idea with his concept of the "intelligence of the victim." See Knowing Jesus (London: Ashford Colour Press, 1998). 19 Merloni, Spiritual Anthology, p. 334. 20 Kenneth E Dougherty, "Atonement," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed. (Detroit: Gale, 2003), vol. 1, p. 837. 21 Lucien Richard, "Expiation (in Theology)," in New Catholic Encyclopedia, 2nd ed., vol. 5, p. 565. 22 L. Gregory Jones, "The Craft of Forgiveness," Theology Today 50, no. 3 (October 1993): 356. 23 William Temple, The Faith and Modern Thought, quoted in Leonard Hodgson, The Doctrine of Atonement (New York: Scribners, 1951), p. 80. 24 See the letter of John Paul II to Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach sJ on the Canonization of Blessed Claude la Colombi~re SJ, in UOsservatore Romano, English edition, 27 October 1986, and referred to by Benedict xvI (see note 9 above). 25 G.W.C. Thomas, "Reparation: The Sevenfold Pattern of Redemption," Church Quarterly Review 158, no. 327 (April-June 1957): 165. ,167 68.2 2009 JAMES H. SCHIMELPFENING Being Heard, Being Healed: Learning from the Quaker Tradition We cannot change the world by a new plan, project, or idea. We cannot even change other people by our convictions, stories, advice, and proposals, but we can offer a space where people are encouraged to disarm themselves, lay side their occupations and preoccupa-tions, and listen with attention and care to the voices speaking in their own center. --Henri Nouwen1 168 Community is a word that is tossed around a lot, but is hard to define. My own religious order and those who share in the Marianist tradition embrace community as a constitutive part of our mission and identity, and thus we engage in countless conversations discerning its meaning, the place it has in our lives, and how it is to be an instrument of mission. After thirty-five years of religious life and after living in communities on four continents, my experience of community is all over the board. Sometimes I am most grateful for it, but other times it has been quite the opposite. James H. Schimelpfening SM lives at Marianist Community; Meyer Hall; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Review for Religious Recently I experienced community in an utterly refreshing and transformative way. I participated in a series of six seasonal retreats based on the Quaker tradition and the work of Parker Palmer. The Center for Courage and Renewal, partially funded by Lilly Endowment, offered these retreats for clergy and con-gregational leaders) The approximately twenty partici-pants represented a variety Of religious denominations, including a young Jewish woman and myself, the only Catholic. That in itself made the retreats interesting and delightful. These retreats, spread over eighteen months, opened up and stretched my idea and sense of community. I want to share with you something of the enriching, grace-filled, contemplative experience that the retreats were for me. Welcoming the True Self One of the principal resources for the retreats was Parker Palmer's A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey toward an Undivided Life. He portrays community as "one that knows how to welcome the soul"--or true self--and how to hear its voice within oneself. He refers to this kind of community as a circle of trust, a revealing name. Such a community, he writes, allows us to reach in towards our wholeness, out towards the world's need, while living at "the intersection of the two.''3 This intersection is sometimes a daunting place to be. One needs to be with others who, in the right sort of way, support and encourage each other in their moving inward and outward. Often, at least in my experience of community, issues and concerns are discussed, debated, and at times argued; then votes are taken, and there are winners and losers. Tensions, often subtle but barely hidden, may 169 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed remain. As a result, people keep trying to fix each other or straighten the others out. Advising and rectifying implies that one knows what is good for others if only they would acknowledge it. Community harmony and peace become elusive, and passive-aggressive behavior comes to the fore. Life in community has taught me that violence has many forms that give pain and raise suspicion and result in protective walls. Often persons are diminished and given less respect in favor of group-think or the institution itself.4 Life in community some-times fails to lead persons to wholeness or holiness, and when such failings occur the mission too falters. Touchstones In the series of retreats that I was part of, there was a quite different style of community and way of being present to one another and ultimately to oneself. I have experienced it also in other religious and church com-munities, but only rarely, and even more rarely as an intentional way of being together. In each retreat of this series, one of the first things we did was review the Circle of Trust Touchstones, the guidelines for all of our time together, not only when we were "sitting in the circle." We would: ¯ presume, extend, and receive welcome. ¯ be present as fully as possible. ¯ offer by invitation, not demand. ¯ speak our truth in ways that respect other people's ¯ not fix, save, advise, or set each other straight. ¯ learn to respond with honest, open questions. ¯ turn to wonder when the going got tough. ¯ attend to our own inner teacher. ¯ trus~t.and learn from and in the silence. ¯ observe deep confidentiality. ¯ know that it is possible to leave the circle with Review for Religious whatever you needed and that the seeds planted could and would keep growing. To live these touchstones intentionally takes work and demands attention, but something good happens and a different environment is created. These touchstones were practical and crucial for our community because we were so diverse. We were men and women, ordained and nonordained, Christian and Jewish, various races and ages, formed in different religious traditions with different doctrines and creeds, coming from all over the country, and having various personali-ties and committed relationships. It was only by living these touchstones that something new and deep could be born, so that we could move beyond differences that would normally keep us separate. Living these touchstones introduced ways of being together that led to deeper respect for persons and enduring bonds of friendship and trust. It is all too easy to focus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead of expe-riencing what is right. This environment made it pos-sible to speak and listen in a gender and more attentive manner. It is all too easy tofocus on what is different and what is perceived to be "wrong," instead ,of experiencing what is right. Circles of Trust Parker Palmer calls such a community a circle of trust. The name, in my experience, is descriptive. We would sit in an unbroken circle with no one coming first or being 171 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed 172j last, no beginning or end.In the center of the circle would be a small table with a candle and flowers that would serenely hold our attention, and hold us together like the hub of a wheel. When speaking we would "speak to the circle," not across the circle as groups may do and thereby tend to debate and break down the sense of the whole, of community. That happened to us once, and the feel of the group changed and became charged with something that we recognized as not helpful, not what we desired. We returned to speaking to the circle, not across it, and the environment healed. "Speaking to the circle" is speaking from one's own inner self to the center of the circle, where all that is said is held attentively and respectfully. There is no speaking from one ego to another, nor is it about try-ing to impress or persuade. It is simply about expressing oneself, a kind of sharing that is less stressful and much more peaceful,s Trust is what constitutes the circle; without trust there is no circle. Trust makes the space safe for sharing one's truth without fear of judgment or criticism. This trust grows deeper over time. As I share these reflections, I realize that a circle of trust can seem like avoidance of conflict, blind acceptance, lack of discernment, or some such idea. It might even seem "new age" and shallow. My experience, however, is just the opposite. A circle of trust and living the touchstones allow for something deep to emerge and grow and bear fruit. Circles of trust allow more truths to come to light and authentic relationships to form. It is interesting and even important to note that Quakers do not avoid diffi-cult situations, but instead are present to them differently. That is why historically Quakers have often been present where thorny social issues like justice, peacemaking, and reconciliation are being pondered and evaluated. Review for Religious A circle of trust forms a community that allows per-sons to be attentive to their inner self, what we often refer to as one's true self. This true self can surface in an enviroriment that is encouraging, one that is respectful, silent, attentive, and caring. As Parker Palmer points out, a circle of trust is focused on an inward journey and invisible yet very real pow-ers. The purpose of the circle is to support each person's inner journey. A circle of trust lives the paradox of "being alone together," of being present to one another as a "community of solitudes."6 Solitude and community, rightly understood, go together; they are not opposed. In truth, everyone needs both the interior intimacy that comes from solitude and the otherness that comes from life in community. The purpose of this community is to allow the true self, the self in God, to present itself. Unfortunately, however, too many "communities" do not provide this environment; instead, they scare the true self away. It withdraws into the shadows because it does not feel safe to come forward. We wear masks and do not share what is most truly our own. Too often we do not even know what is most true within us. A circle of trust community is made of people who know how to sit quietly and wait for the soul, the true self, to show its face. The relationships within it are "not pushy, but patient; not confrontational, but compassionate; they are filled, not with expectations and demands, but with abiding faith in the reality of the inner teacher and in each person's capacity to learn from it." In my experience, it is atypical to find a community that has people who have the capacity for this kind of presence to each other. "The people who help us grow toward true self," Parker Palmer writes, "offer uncondi-tional love. They don't judge or try to change us. They 173 68.2 2009 Schimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed do offer and hold hopeful expectancy, creating the space that safeguards and encourages the inner journey."7 This is an incredible gift to offer one another, and within this form of community we find, I believe, the greatest potential for growth and transformation. What most people desire is to be heard and honored. As one fellow retreatant commented, "To be heard is to be healed!" Too often in community and in conver-sation we do not feel we have been genuinely heard or respected, and this only deepens wounds and pro- ~_ duces greater alienation. In the circle of trust, deep ¯ .~.L listening to one another, as well as to oneself, is paramount and happens rather naturally. Listening deeply is a nonviolent act; it is an amazing gift to offer. Patient listening, and forming circles of trust according to the touchstones, moves against the .grain of our habitual culture--both secular, and religious. Circles of trust are about listen-ing, expectant listening. This kind of listening only goes deeper with time and is all about God. God is the one who makes such listening possible and who gives us the hunger and thirst for it. God beckons, and we soon dis-cover that all that is good comes from the hand of God. Ultimately, God is the goal of our listening, for in so doing we can discern and do the work of God.s The content is simple, and its purpose is to open us to deeper listening and reflection. We would use poetry, stories, songs, or reflection. Metaphor plays an important part in this kind of sharing because images, allegories, allow us to approach from a slant, not head- What most people desire is to be heardand honoredl , Review for Religious on; they bring into play much more than the intellect. Metaphor has a way of surprising, even seducing the heart and soul, while tricking the mind into taking another look and discovering mystery in the process. We all belong to numerous kinds of groups and com-munities, each offering something unique and respond-ing to different needs. Circles of trust, however, generate within me a longing for such a community within the church and in religious life. Such a community, it seems to me, creates an environment that encourages and sup-ports deep growth and leads to holiness. Circles of trust might not seem to be as useful or as practical and func-tional as other groups might be, and so one considers circles of trust idealistic, utopian, unrealistic, even for religious or church communities. I would disagree. If we strove towards such deep trust and respect, many of the functional things we now squabble about would sim-ply disappear, and other practical details of life would take care of themselves. If they had to be dealt with, conversation and decision making about them would be quite different. We too easily forget that even our busi-ness meetings have a spiritual component and, hope-fully, necessitate a listening for truth.9 The experience and outcome would be a lot healthier, and life together would be more amiable, more authentic, and even more reflective of the gospel and Christian living. Circles of trust and community are not about numbers, but about the quality of the space created and shared. As Parker Palmer notes in A Hidden Wholeness, we live divided lives. We live alienated from our true selves, and end up feeling depressed, aimless, anxious, or angry. We feel the pain of being alienated from our own truth. We yearn to be centered,1° and a circle of trust creates the space where centering can happen and foster wholeness. 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed A Spiritual Experience Although not always described this way explicitly, circles of trust are a spiritual experience, and the retreats I participated in were, beyond doubt, retreats. They were days of communing with God, with the Spirit of God very much alive and present within us and among us. The retreats were distinctly reflective and contempla-tive, with time for being alone and time for sharing with another or with the entire circle. The environment of the retreat center itself was ideal,ll The Tibetan chime would draw us into silence and into the circle. I found it easy to recall that, where two or three are gathered in God's name, God is truly present. The entire environ-ment was charged with the holiness of God. It was an experience of the shekinah of God. Clearness Committees Those familiar with the Quaker tradition know that forming Clearness Committees is an important part of their life. Each of our retreats set aside time for the work of Clearness Committees. I found myself refer-ring to them as Quaker discernment, a way of listening for truth, truth that is .not imposed from outside, but arises from within. This was one of the most important experiences of discernment that I have ever engaged in, most especially with a group, and was for me a highlight of our time together. This discernment is not done fir us, as sometimes occurs. Instead, in a circle of trust, in a safe, reflective space, we are engaged in our own dis-cernment, in our own way and time, with the encourag-ing and challenging presence of people who really and truly care for us)2 Clearness Committees help the focus person (who has asked for its help)13 to walk an inner iourney. They do so by their presence, asking open and Review for Religious honest questions, not interpreting or offering advice, not judging or fixing, but treating the person carefully as he or she looks and listens deeply. There is no con-flict of agendas or egos; there is only one focus person with one agenda. Just as the circles of trust offer a new way of conceiv-ing community, so the Clearness Committees offer a new way of helping persons make decisions about the direction of their life. I found here an incredible respect for the person and belief in the action of God. Instead of decisions, especially the more personal decisions, being made by others, a Clearness Committee allows for a form of listening and obedience that holds promise of greater life for the person and also, in the long run, for others and for ministry. Clearness Committees were a primary factor in draw-ing me to the seasonal retreats, for I was doing discern-ment in my own life. A series of circumstances along with much that was moving within my own heart and soul had made me wonder where the Spirit might be leading me. I needed and desired some form of guidance, and I needed to enter more deeply into a process of discernment, but I did not want someone or a group telling me what to do. I was desperately seeking someone or a group willing to walk with me, providing the safe place where I could be open and vulnerable in my discerning reflection. In my own religious community this did not seem possible. My superiors were likely to approach my questions as an administrative concern and decision, but did not seem able to walk with me in the way I needed. The seasonal retreats, however, with the circles of trust and the blessed opportunity to be the focus person of a Clearness Committee drew me like a bee to nectar. I asked for a Clearness Committee to sit with me not 177 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening * Being Heard, Being Healed Such d cision ,making; demands great patienee, and a strongcom i m n once but twice. The experience was powerful because of the safe, caring environment and the confidentiality, the love and faith, that were present. The immediate experi-ence was powerful, but I was surprised and delighted by how it continued to reveal truths in the following days, weeks, and months. Did I receive an immediate answer? No. Were there "aha" moments? More later, than at the time. Was clarity received? Yes, but much more came long after the experience was over. Such decision making demands great patience and a strong commitment to the process: it can take time for the truth to come to light. Quakers are good at waiting and supporting one another in this invest-ment of time and pres-ence, doing so in the belief that a truth can and will come to light and, when it does, can be embraced with one's whole self. One lets the work of God pro-ceed and reveal itself. This "Quaker discernment" takes as long as is needed. It is exceedingly countercul-rural in our quick-fix, fast-food, I-want-it-now culture. If, as religious communities, church, and church min-istries, we could learn to discern in this way, I believe that both community life and ministry would be a good deal richer. Going Home As a high introvert when I first began attending the retreats, I was uncertain about it, but, having read A Hidden Wholeness the year before, I was curious enough Review for Religious to give it a whirl and see what would happen. After the first couple of retreats, I felt completely at home, and, although I never knew what the experience of any particular retreat would be, I soon learned to trust the Spirit, believing that whatever would happen would be grace--and I was never disappointed. It seemed that each retreat was its own "peak" experience that helped me go deeper and deeper into my soul while being sup-portive of others doing the same. Many retreats, even when powerful, are one-shot experiences, but this series of retreats, organized accord-ing to the seasons of the year, allowed for sacred remem-bering of what happened previously and delving into it once again from a slightly different slant, so that further truth could be discovered. On top of everything else, this was a wonderful ecumenical and interfaith setting that opened many wonderful doors. The most difficult part of each retreat was returning home to community and ministry. Although I would return deeply renewed, I saw that my recent experience of community would not be present back home. Every three months, as the next retreat drew near, I would look forward to it with great anticipation. My challenge now is to live the expe-rience and find ways to invite others into these circles of trust so that they too may have the joy and benefit of entering them that I have had. As I noted earlier, there are many different forms of community and many different definitions of commu-nity. Dietrich Bonhoeffer once said, "Community is not an ideal; it is people."14 1 believe that what the Quaker tradition and Parker Palmer offer is worth exploring and experiencing as a very practical way of forming and being community. "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another" (Jn 13:35). r179 68.2 2009 Scbimelpfening ¯ Being Heard, Being Healed Notes ' As quoted in Mark Nepo, The Exquisite Risk: Daring to Live An Authentic Life (New York: Three Rivers Press, 2005). z Center for Courage and Renewal, www.couragerenewal.org. 3 Parker Palmer, A Hidden Wholeness: TbeJourney toward an Undivided Life (San Francisco: Jossey Bass, 2004), pp. 22, 25.4 The word person is used intentionally; not individual. The distinction is critical. 5 Palmer, Hidden I~oleness, pp. 118-119. 6 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 54. 7 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 59, 60. 8 Michael Waida, Expectant Listening: Finding God's Thread of Guidance (Wallingford, Pennsylvania: Pendle Hill ~ublicationsi 2007), p. 16. 9 Wajda, Expectant Listening, p. 22. ,0 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, pp. 45-46. " Santa Sabina Center, San Rafael, California. 12 Palmer, Hidden Wholeness, p. 27. ~3 The focus person asks for Clearness Committee assistance regard-ing a question or issue that he or she is struggling with and seeking light about. ,4 Jean Vanier, From Brokenness to Community (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 35. 180] Personal Reflection and/or Group Discussion What has been your own occasion of experiencing the kind of "words of trust" that animate community life? Have you or has your community developed your own special ways of deepening the trust and faith-sharing integral to religious community living? How would you describe it and how often is it used? Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Religious Habits Reconsidered Years ago, when we were just beginning to wear secular dress, a sister friend remarked to me that she never noticed what anyone else was wearing. The remark struck me because I thought she was missing an important commu-nication from others. But, upon reflection later, it seemed likely that she meant that everyone deserves our respect, whether clad in rags or riches, in style or out--a conviction that I share. Also, I thought, she ,was probably indi-cating she is less sensate than I. As the years passed, however, with religious habits less and less in ,evidence, I have occa-sionally thought of investigating the topic more deeply. Comments such as these persist: "If you wore a habit, you'd get more vocations" and "Real sisters wear habits." They imply that our Doris Gottemoeller RSM last wrote .for us in 2005. Her address remains Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. 1181 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller * Religious Habits Reconsidered transition in dress is symbolic of an abandonment of val-ues or identity. It is hard at times not to feel defensive. No doubt there is scholarly literature available about the significance of dress through the ages. Dress as an indicator of social class and status, the change from toga and tunic to trousers and dresses, the influence of climate and occupation, and the development of new fabrics and methods of production--all of this has prob-ably been studied. I have not consulted any of it. First, I want simply to recall and describe this period of change. Then I will reflect on the significance of a religious habit for women and of the many decisions to forgo it. I will close with some questions for reflection and dialogue. Some readers may assume that there is noth-ing to be learned from the decisions made so long ago, but I think that some reflection can bear fruit for our present and future. What a Habit Is Not A religious habit is not a costume, a dress that tempo-rarily provides a new identity, either for dramatic effect or for fun. Costumes are worn in stage productions and at Halloween parties. A disguise is another form of temporary identity, one intended to deceive people. A vestment is worn to temporarily designate that one is performing a sacred function. Nor is a religious habit a uniform. Commentators ask, "Vv'hy don't you wear a uniform like airline atten-dants, nurses, and police personnel?" These uniforms signify professional qualification and a certain authority. In given situations their wearers are entided to respect because of their official function. Note, though, that uniforms often admit of variations. The attendants on a plane may be wearing slacks, shorts, or skirts, with or Review for Religious without coordinating jackets or sweaters. They are all in uniform, but they choose different forms of it. Nursing uniforms, too, admit of variation, even within the same department or on the same floor of a hospital. In contrast to any of these options, the religious habit was a permanent and unchanging garb. The cloth-ing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate signified a new identity, which one intended eventually to make lifelong. As we dressed each morning, we said prayers specific to each item of clothing. For the habit itself we prayed, "Clothe my soul, 0 Lord, with the nuptial - - robe of charity that I may carry it pure and undefiled before Thy judgment seat," The prayer for donning the cincture was "0 Lord Jesus Christ, who became obedi-ent unto death, even the death of the cross, grant me the true spirit of religious obedience." In my experience there were no optional choices around color or design or style, very litde adaptation to climate or occupation. Permission to wear a white habit in nursing care and in the tropics is the only possibility I can recall. The clothing ceremony at the beginning of novitiate sig nified a new identity. The Mandate to Change Before the mandate of Vatican Council II to update, our habit was the only dress we wore. In my experi-ence each sister had two habits, a heavy pleated wool serge version for Sundays and feast days and an every-day version in a lighter fabric. Neither was really wash-able. We wore a knee-length black veil, inner and wide outer sleeves, a leather cincture to which was attached a 183 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered 841 long rosary, and a starched white cotton coif and guimpe which we changed on Sunday and at midweek. Heavy black stockings and black oxfords completed the ensem-ble. Going out in winter required a shawl or a long black cloak with a heavy black veil pinned over the house veil. This habit was worn 365 days of the year, from rising in the morning to retiring at day's end, in the convent, the classroom, or the hospital, at work or recreation, at home or abroad. The habit was everywhere recognizable and, when clean and pressed, somewhat graceful and attractive. It was also economical: the daily habit lasted several years and the Sunday habit for many years. Thus it was a witness to poverty. The design had remained essentially the same for over 130 years. But, despite its familiarity and attractiveness, the habit was unsanitary, unsafe, and ill-suited to the climate in many places. It was also impractical for many occupations such as housework or recreational sports. Furthermore, all of the parts had to be sewn by hand. Keeping perspi-ration from the starched linens which encircled the face in hot weather was another challenge. Considerations such as these prompted the conciliar directive: "Habits should be simple and modest, at once poor and becoming. They should meet the requirements of health and be suited to the circumstances of time and place as well as to the services required by those who wear them. Habits of men and women which do not correspond to those norms are to be changed" (Perfectae caritatis § 17). This directive prompted the first genera-tion of modified or updated habits. Chapters reviewed designs, and each congregation chose one which seemed to embody the desired improvements. For the Sisters of.Mercy of the Union, this transition occurred in the summer of 1968. The new habit was mid-calf in length Review for Religious and could be purchased from a manufacturer's catalogue in an array of sizes. A veil which came just below the shoulders was attached to a white cap which left some hair exposed in front. The habit was washable, and nothing was starched. From Modified Habit to Secular Dress Why didn't this updated habit, which responded to the conciliar mandate, last? Here the story becomes more complex. As the decades passed, most congrega-tions loosened or eliminated their requirements that everyone wear a habit, even for professional or formal occasions, I would suggest that the following are some of the f~ctors that led to this evolution. First, the change of dress coincided with other changes that brought us into new settings and new cir-cumstances. Permission to travel without a companion and to drive an auto-mobile were two sig-nificant changes. No longer~did we have to depend on employ-ees or volunteer lay-persons to chauffeur us to professional meetings, doctors' appointments, the library or grocery, or a museum, movie, or sporting event. Freedom from the need for a sister companion encouraged individual choices about where to go or what to do with one's discretionary time. Some outings were with only lay friends or relatives. Individuals did not necessarily want to stand out in such settings. The introduction of personal budgets was another change Why .didn't this updated habit, which re.sponded to the conciliar mandate, last? 68.2 2009 Gottemoeller ¯ Religious Habits Reconsidered that facilitated variation in dress, as individuals could choose where they wished to shop and what they wished to buy. Another limit to the success of updated habits was the matter of style. As long as we were in 18th- or 19th-century garb, there was no relationship to any contem-porary style. But an adaptation to "circumstances of time and place" suggests at least some relationship to what other people are wearing. Hemlines are a case in point. Should they be adjusted upward and downward with changing styles? What about the size and proportions of the individual sister? The traditional habit swathed her in so many yards of fabric that her figure was effectively concealed, but the modified habit was more flattering to some than to others. Does everyone have to wear the same color? Do you wear the same thing for scrubbing the kitchen floor, lecturing before a class, attending a board meeting, and playing tennis on Saturday after-noon? Considerations such as these meant that individ-uals almost immediately began modifying the modified habit and also acquiring supplementary wardrobes for occasions when a habit was deemed inappropriate. The question of a veil comes in for special consid-eration. Questions of comfort, ideology, and style inter-mingled. In the old habit, when no hair was visible, we usually cut it very short for comfort. As soon as some hair was visible, it had to be styled. And not every style looked good peeping out from a veil. Keeping a veil anchored on one's head was sometimes a challenge. More significandy, the veil signified for some a femi-nine subservience to men. (Around that time, women gave up wearing hats and veils in church, and nurses stopped wearing caps with their uniforms.) Some argued that the veil was intended to symbolize virginity. Well, Review for Religious if it did, then shouldn't male religious who take a vow of celibacy also wear them? As we began to experiment with lay dress, some continued to wear the veil for a time, leading to some unfortunate combinations of flowered dresses topped off with veils. (Interestingly, the appearance of Islamic women clad in burqas and veils in Western cities was still too rare to invite a com-parison.) Another circumstance that promoted individual choice of dress was the movement toward individual-ism overall in Western culture. This is a phenomenon that would require books to chronicle and critique both its lights and shadows, but the point here is khat we were not immune from its influence. Religious life is essentially a communitarian commitment, but in many ways--not only choice of dress--it has embraced, or at least permitted, a wider expression of personal choice. While we were experimenting with dress, we were also exploring new ministries, new living arrangements, and new prayer styles. Much of this was a healthy reaction to practices which had encouraged immaturity, but some of it has diminished our corporate identity and witness. Nevertheless, choosing how to present oneself on a particular occasion or in a particular setting can be a revelation of one's personal judgment and self-iden-tification. Looking Back on the Changes in Dress The first thing that can be said is that the changes described here proceeded without a lot of self-reflection. We lacked the critical distance necessary to analyze the consequences of our choices or their interaction with other choices we were making. At times we hesitated to raise the issue in community for fear of seeming

Issue 52.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1993. ; for r elig ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° 5001 Eastern Avenue ° P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP J~an Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future Mary.Jo Weaver gives contemporary meaning to the legacy of Angela Merici and the Ursulines. prayer 503 Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ shares the struggle of a desert-day experience. 507 Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Robert McCown SJ explains how Christian Zen, or centering prayer, as an ancillary to the Spiritual Exercises offers spiritual repose. 519 God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Mary Corona FMDM shares her experience of God's working in a thirty-day retreat. 532 541 548 spiritual life What Trouble Is Tad Dunne ponders how coping with trouble allows us to find energies that produce growth. Prayer, Memories, and God Theresa Mancuso suggests a fascinating relationship between recalling joyful and painful memories and praying to God. Adding Up 75 Years Vera Gallagher RGS adds up the balance sheet of God's love in her own life history. 482 Review for Religious 553 566 574 apostolate Prayer and Work, Mostly in South Africa Timothy Stanton CR believes that intercession is the main respon-sibility of the church in the painful process of bringing a new South Africa to birth. Religious Life in West Africa 1966-1990 Martin O'Reilly CFC offers an outline of the development of reli-gious life from foreign-born to local-born in West Africa. The Sanctification of Their Neighbor Thaddeus J. Kazanecki CO examines some characteristics of the Italian confraternal life within which St. Philip Neri founded the Congregation of the Oratory. 584 596 6O2 610 religious life Culture and Contemplative Community Marie Beha OSC reflects on how living the Franciscan charism in the United States can be ddngerous both for U.S. Poor Clares and U.S. culture. Canonical Room for Charisms William F. Hogan CSC emphasizes the uniqueness to be fostered by each particular religious institute for the good of the church's mission. Journal of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda SND explores the mind and heart of a novice director through excerpts that could be found in a journal. A Family Business: Management in Religious Congregations Dennis Newton SVD spells out some practical directives for deal-ing with complications arising from interaction between religious-congregation members and nonmembers in the workplace. departments 484 Prisms 616 Canonical Counsel: The Synod on Consecrated Life 622 Book Reviews 37-uly-Aug~st 1993 483 prisms A seminarian recently told me, in a certain exasperated way, of his frustration about political label-ing in the church. Informally representing others of sim-ilar age, he pointed out that he has known no other church than the post-Vatican II church. An English-language liturgy, a catechetical training distinguished more by ques-tions than by answers, parish organizations still in devel-oping stages, a school faculty composed mostly of lay teachers, along with a few religious women and men not appearing all that different in dress or in lifestyle from their lay counterparts--these are the only memories of church that he has. He has no more nostalgia for the prac-tices of the church of earlier years than he has for the cel-ebrated golden age of radio before the advent of television. His complaint is that any expressed desires for con-nectives to a pre-Vatican II church immediately raise the likelihood of himself and other people his age being called "neoconservatives." These thirtysomething people and younger want rather to explore more fully their heritages of Catholic .faith and practice. They have no battles to fight over the rigidities and meaninglessness that were part of some Catholic devotions and regulations of the recent, past. They are gra,teful for the freedom and respon-sibility which "older" church members have not always felt comfortable with. They appreciate the maturing fits-and- starts of an American hierarchy in providing leader-ship in their letters on peace and justice and on economics and even in the failed .attempt to address the role of women in society and the church. They see as well-mean-ing but fearful the attempts at control and centralization made by what they might want to label as a "conserva- 484 Review for Religious tive" Vatican bureaucracy. But they are nevertheless looking, sometimes toward the past, for something more in their church than they have at present. They would want, in Jesus' imagery, to be like the "head of a household who can bring from his store-room both the new and the old" (Mt 13:52). If I have rather faithfully understood and presented a major concern of significant numbers of younger members in the church, I believe that their complaint is legitimate. The necessity for an in-depth contact with and study of our rich heritages has never been more apparent. We are all-too-aware of the old truism that unless we know our past we are condemned to keep repeating it. We in the church are also well aware that the danger of being prisoners of the past is all-too-real, with the embarrassing irrel-evance of various "churchy" issues in the face of modern world problems and technology. So for us to know our heritages is to have the strength of consistency with our past but also the stim-ulus to move into a creative future where our faith is a light for appropriate decision and action. Our feature article, "The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future" by Mary Jo Weaver, is one attempt to make contact with a heritage in this kind of significant way. I hope that this article will serve as a model for people to study and write engagingly about other heritages, with implications for the present and future opportunities of those very heritages. The women and men who lived our heritages before they were heritages make vivid the values necessary for today's Christian living and the courage it takes to live these values in the face of difficulties, including at times the opposition of good people. This journal has a privileged role to play in bringing people into greater contact with the good-ness within so many spiritual families that live together in our church. In coming to know more fully the relevance of our spiri-tual heritages, we dan expect that our liturgical and prayer practices will be more life-giving, our ministries inspired by gospel beati-tudes will be more clearly focused, and our lives supported in Christian community will be more vigorous. Vatican II and the subsequent years have given the church the occasion for straightening out the gospel storeroom. Now we, the church members, need to enrich our faith lives by com-ing to know and use its treasures, both new and old. David L. Fleming SJ yuly-A1lgust 1993 485 feature MARY JO WEAVER The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future I found the title of my talk in the first sentence of Agnes Repplier's biography of M~re Marie: "Of course," she says, "the Ursulines were the most adventurous of nuns." As I skimmed the book, I found phrases like "the most adven-turous of patronesses," the "robust intelligence and fear-less imagination" of the founder, and the "constitutional fearlessness and valorous spirit" of the first missionary to North America. The women most often mentioned in Ursuline history--St. Ursula, Angela Merici, and Mhre Marie--were all formidable figures, and as I read about them I was wafted back into a romantic past when pio-neering women were intrepid and when everything worked out all right in the end. Although the women associated with Ursuline history were not feminists in any modern sense of the word, I wondered what it would mean to attempt a feminist reading of their lives. I was drawn most powerfully into Angela's life, but not before the other two made me stop and take notice. The medieval legend of Ursula as a graceful, beauti-ful, wise, cultured scholar whose learning amazed the doc- Mary Jo Weaver is professor of religious studies and women's studies at Indiana University in Bloomington. Author of Springs of Water in a Dry Land: Catholic I, Vomen and Spiritual Survival (Beacon Press, 1993) and other works, she spent ten years explor-ing feminist issues in the American Catholic Church and has recently begun a long-term research project on traditionalist Catholics in the United States. Her address is 1030 S. Mitchell; Bloomington, Indiana 47401. 486 Review for Religiot~s tors of the church explains why she inspired so many paintings and poems. The bare outlines of her mythical life--martyred along with eleven .thousand virgins with whom she was wandering around barbarian Europe--are fanciful, to say the least, but I do not think it troublesome that the historical facts about her are rather dim. True or false, her legends shaped part of the Catholic tradition and tell us something about the roles women were able to play in the medieval imagination. That she was a virgin, the patron of innocent girls, and a charismatic figure and leader even though she was single--neither married nor in a convent--was obviously attractive to Angela. When I moved to the stories surrounding M~re Marie, leader of the first Ursuline mission in North America, I found genuine historical material used by her biographer in a skilled portrait. Repplier's biography can be summarized in this sentence: "She had escaped every groove in which she had been imprisoned by circumstances." It is a marvelous summary of the life of an ordi-nary woman responding to extraordinary demands, and that seems to be an Ursuline theme, at least in the North American context, where Ursulines were on the scene early and seemed to thrive in the most desperate of situations. Male historians, who typically pay little attention to women, unite in praise for the teaching charism of the Ursulines and their civilizing power on the frontier. There is more, of course, but the bottom line from the his-torians is a witness to dedicated purpose: "The development most distinctively American was the role in educating the young assumed so largely by a myriad of women's communities, begin-ning with the Ursulines in New Orleans in 1727." These same historians do not make much of the fact that the founder of the Ursulines was an independent and rather remarkable woman sur-rounded by strong, inventive women. Those attributes attracted me, however, and it became clear to me that the best way to think about Ursulines was to get to know their founder. Besides, there seemed to be excellent sources of information: well-researched critical biographies, spiritual reflections, historical notes, and modern symposium notes say something about the kind of energy Angela Merici has inspired in her followers. About Angela Merici, there seems to be solid historical ground for an interpretation, but as with the stories of other founders and other times, the pious imagination has sometimes filtered the facts. For example, Angela is remembered ih connection with the July-Aug'ust 1993 487 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns education of girls and is sometimes pictured as energetically open-ing schools; but she neither spent her time founding academies, nor was she drawn primarily to an apostolate of education. Her pioneering spirit was directed towards the moral support of young girls and the regeneration of society as it could be accomplished through a formation program within family settings. Still, because she established a company of independent women at a time when things were astonishingly bad for women, Angela is an example of the "theoretical feminism" that some critics believe has always existed even though it was seldom successful. Theoretical femi-nism means the dedication of women to the abolition of hie(ar-chics, especially those that put women under the direction of men. That description appears to fit Angela's context, and the fact that she tried her experiment during the Renaissance makes her case even stronger. One of the salient points made by feminist historians for the last twenty-five years has to do with periodization. The ways we mark historical periods have been set by men and often mark the realities of women's lives. The late Joan Kelly ~nade this argu-ment with specific reference to Renaissance Italy, Angela's time and place. According to Kelly,.there were no gains for women during the Renaissance. In fact, the age was marked by a restric-tion of the scope of women's powers. Female sexuality, women's economic and political roles, their cultural power in shaping the outlook of their societies, and the ideology about women all underwent profound changes, mostly to the diminishment of women. Yet Angela acted as if the subordination of women was not an issue for her. The "new subordination of women to the inter-ests of husbands and male-dominated groups" that went hand in hand with Renaissance "progress" did not seem to touch her per-sonally though it may account for the rather quick enclosure of the women Angela hoped could live a more autonomous existence. Like fascinating women everywhere, Angela regularly over-turns predictable assmnptions about her. The woman who gath-ered the company later valorized as "the most adventurous of nuns" seems to have been the most reluctant of founders. The founder who has gone into history as one of the world's great pioneers of education seems not to have been that at all, and the visionary who heard a voice from heaven in her teens finally got around to acting on it when she was an old woman. Angela's life fits no .pattern that I can find unless it might be 488 Review for Religious that of Dorothy Day, who summarized her own life's work by say-ing that she never planned to do very much at all. "Opportunities presented themselves and we responded," she used to say, refus-ing to be relegated to the musty shelves of sainthood, out of ordi-nary reach. Dorothy Day is not a perfect parallel figure for understanding Angela, but can help us to perceive the more or less prosaic ways in which ordinary people can be propelled into extraordinary activity. Almost everything we know about Angela Merici happened in Brescia, a small but very volatile city. In 1401 it had been dubbed "the little Rome" because it had 70 churches and 50 monasteries for a population of 16,000, yet sixty years later the apocalyptic reformer Savanarola preached sermons there evoking visions of hellfire and damnation to inspire a change of heart in a morally bankrupt population. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of episcopal leadership. Paulo Zane, absentee bishop there for fifty years (1481-1531), seemed to be in a contest with corrupt popes, cardinals, and priests to see who could lead the most lav-ish and egocentric life. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of its geographical location; it was used, stomped on, and overrun by various armies during the complex territorial wars that dominated the region in the late 15th and early 16th cen-turies. When the French sacked the city in 1512, four years before Angela arrived, the torture and killing of local citizens was so ferocious that all of Europe was shocked by it. If we think of mod-ern- day Somalia, or parts of Latin America or the Middle East, we would not be far off in our analogy. The context for Angela's life, therefore, was collapse and tran-sition. The medieval models for politics and religion were not working, but nothing better was yet in place--a time, in other words, not entirely unlike our own. It was also a time of rampant corruption and moral gridlock, in which those "in charge" appeared uninterested in the daily spiritual li;¢es of ordinary peo-ple. Outside of the 10th century, it is hard to imagine a worse set of popes, one after another, than those who occupied the Holy See then; nearly half of the men who~e stories make up Chamberlain's The Bad Popes ruled during Angela's lifetime. Religious life, although abundantly present, was scandalous rather than edifying, creating a kind of spiritual vacuum for a scream of protest to fill. And, of course, someone did produce such a scream. A young Augustinian monk teaching Scripture at Wittenberg protested .~uly-Aug'ust 1993 4.89 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Charlotte Lichtblau vehemently, but that is a different story. It is not clear how sharply the Lutheran remonstrances touched Angela herself. Many of the reformers of the 16th century--Teresa of Avila, for example-- were so taken up with their own missions that they appear to belong to a climate of religious reform that has very little to do with the great Protestant revolt that began a year after Angela arrived in her new home. Still, ten years later, in 1527, a major anti-Catholic demonstration in Brescia signified, among other things, that people there were in a state of spiritual uproar. 490 Review for Religious To understand Angela's context, therefore, we have to imag-ine a situation that felt generally hopeless and beyond control. The northern Italian borders were not secure, and towns like Brescia were a kind of permanent war zone, not always the scene of bloodshed, but sufficiently precarious to raise the disease rate, encourage prostitution, destabilize families, and generally scuttle normal life. Religious leaders were nowhere to be seen unless one happened to be in Rome attending the theater. The streets of Brescia in 1532 probably resembled Times Square in 1993. They were full of con men sensing opportunities, young women selling themselves for their next meal, old men with diseases or old war wounds and no place to go, and ragged children darting from one bad situation to the next. Acting courageously in this little scene were some dedicated young men operating hospitals for "incur-ables" and a steadfast group of young women whose desire to help young girls led them to imagine themselves working together in a new way. What did these young idealists have in common besides a lively conscience and a desire for spirituality in action? They were all friends of or drawn to Angela Merici, an efficient, maternal woman who, by all accounts, had a magnetic personal-ity shaped by personal sanctity. She had even, so it was said, once had some kind of "vision." As I noted earlier, whatever the facts of her life, Angela Merici is not typical in any way. The outline of her visionary experience-- adolescent orphan girl sees something and claims to be instructed by it--is a standard story; but what Angela did with it is not. Her modesty in claiming very little for herself because of her experi-ence reminds me of Dame Julian of Norwich, who after a series of remarkable visions went on with a modest, reclusive life, recounting them to a scribe only much later. As an adolescent, Angela apparently had a profound religious experience--a dream or a vision--which she believed gave shape and direction to her life; but she did not immediately run to a bishop to disclose its contents, nor did she speculate about the concrete terms into which it might eventually be cast. She simply went about her life as a third-order Franciscan, te.aching catechism in her own village and willing to go wherever she was needed--to Brescia, as it turns out, when she was in her forties. Unless we count a pious life as extraordinary, she did not do anything out of the ordinary there. Perhaps the very routineness of her life calmed people: At the same time, the little things she .~uly-August 1993 491 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Like any normal prophet, she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling her. did made an impressibn on those around her. She lived a selfless life in the company of rich people and brought the attractive wis-dom of common sense to a besieged.situation. She apparently felt secure enough to pursue her lifestyle choice of virginity in the home of a wealthy young merchant, living in his house for more than a dozen years. She was an ascetic who was surrounded by friends, many of them men. She was a good organizer and pitched in to do what needed to be done--nursing, counseling, pro-tecting children, consoling the bereaved--but also apparently felt free enough to go galli-vanting off to Jerusalem, to Rome, and to Varolla, a kind of Holy Land theme park in the Alps. How it became clear to her that it was time to act upon her early vision and gather "a company of consecrated virgins" around her is not Clear to me, especially since I see her vari-ous trips as flights from that call. Every time someone called a meeting, she disappeared! In 1522, when she was in her early fifties, Angela went on a pilgrimage to Mantua, to the tomb of Blessed Osanna Andreasi, a third-order Dominican. Why? Did she simply want to honor this holy woman, or was she begin-ning to suspect that she herself was gifted beyond what she had up to now felt to be ordinary abilities? Did she hope by honoring Osanna, a new and popular cult figure, that she could elude her own fate, like Moses telling God that, in comparison with the articulate Aaron, he was simply not the man for the job? It seems reasonable to assume that she experienced some kind of inner turmoil and was seeking refuge from it. In that way--like any normal prophet, with the exception of Isaiah--she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling bet. Whether at Mantua she was seeking refuge or confirmation, however, she did not quit running away. Her next pilgrimage, in 1524 to Jerusalem, is what we might expect from such a woman in those times, and having an on-site episode of hysterical illness was not untypical. People in the highly charged atmosphere of a major place of pilgrimage often have unex-pected or frightening physical experiences, but let us examine this moment more closely. She did not, like Margery Kempe, faint or have visions of herself assisting at the birth of Jesus; she did not, like 492 Review for Religious Felix Fabri, feel as if her whole life had been turned upside down. She went blind and so could not see some of the holy places. When I read that story, I wonder what she did not want to see. On her way back from Jerusalem, she stopped awhile in Venice, where city officials begged her to stay and administer a hospital for incurables there, an honor and a challenge to which she responded by fleeing quickly and returning to Brescia. Running away from this opportunity would have made sense if she returned to Brescia to take on similar responsibilities there, but she did not. She was scarcely unpacked when she booked pas-sage on another pilgrimage, this time to Rome and the celebration of the jubilee year (1525). I read this activity as a voyage of internal discovery. Those attuned to their inner voices know that "you can run, but you can-not hide," something An\gela was trying to do in ever more press- xng ways. Whatever her reasons for going to Rome, once there she managed to get an audience with Pope Clement VII. It is hard to imagine this event without the kind of bribery required by most Renaissance popes, so if she managed to see the pope without such machinations, I daresay he already knew about her and saw how she might be useful to him. In any case, if she wanted the solace of a papal blessing, she received another scare instead: he begged her to stay in Rome and administer a hospital there. Here the story gets even more dramatic because, in the face of a papal request, Angela fled lest she be compelled by obedience. Other popes might have pursued her, but Clement was not a man of swift decision. His nickname--"I will and I won't"--was given to him because be was a notorious temporizer, agonizingly slow to make any decision. His disadvantage was her victory. She got herself back to Brescia and away from Rome. Perhaps she imagined she was now safe and sound. ¯ What can one make of all this flight? I see a woman who probably knew she had led a useful life, who was self-assured and willing to help out where she was needed, but not eager to fit into a role she could not yet imagine for herself. The idea that she might be more than a reasonably pious and useful woman and the fact that young people involved in arduous and creative cor-poral works of mercy gathered around her as if around a mother hen may have strained her .self-understanding. Maybe she was just tired--she was in her late fifties--maybe she was just stub-born. I find her self-possessed, unwilling to act until she herself j~uly-August 1993 493 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns was clear about what she might do and how she might act to con-trol her own future. In "running away" she found the time and space to begin to come to terms with it. It is fascinating to see this middle-aged woman struggle with the logical implications of her own life. She had been in Brescia for nearly fifteen years, living a prayerful life and doing good works. People thought her so wise and caring that they called her madre (a tide reserved for holy women and nuns), and from morn-ing to night she was called on by people seeking her advice or drawn to her sensible simplicity, A group of courageous young people who had their own ideas about how to live the gospel in a forlorn world were drawn to her spiritual power. And an increas-ingly clear apostolate, dedicated to the care and protection of young women, had been staring beseechingly at her since Elizabeth Prato, a friend young enough and devoted enough to be her daughter, started working with lost girls in 1522. Vv'hy, then, the reluctance? And why do I find it comforting? Without intending to be cryptic, I think it is middle age, Angela's and my own. Had she been in her twenties, perhaps she would have dived right into the creative community she founded, as many of today's middle-aged sisters, in their youth, were drawn into the irresistible energy of religious life with its sacrifices and promises. But, like many of us today, she was in her fifties, not so quick to act, distracted by alternatives and the cautions that come with age. Maybe she just wanted to live out her days in the mod-est way she had been doing. After all, it is reasonable at this age to be tending the gardens of one's own soul and unreasonable to be launching a major life project. Maybe the call which had come with such clarity many years earlier now seemed distant or unreal, impractical in the present situation. VVhen we are young, the idea that God wants us for something specific seems only natural. All the scary choices--marriage, motherhood, convent life, profes-sional training--are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. But when we are older, the same idea can make us wonder if we are imagining things; we see all the reasons not to believe what we are hearing. In such cases the mysterious ways that God is famous for often manifest themselves in some dramatic way. For Angela, not unlike many of the saints, illness was a factor. Fleeing again in 1529 to Cremona in order to get away from political intrigue and an active war zone, she became gravely ill. And here, I think, she 494 Review for Religio~ts encountered an interesting temptation that may have looked like the answer to her problems. Illness and death beckoned as an option, the last flight, the final escape. She apparently thought that she might really die there and--whether with drama or res-ignation I cannot say--took to her deathbed. Yet, when one of her young supporters composed her epi-taph and read it to her, she bounced back, not as ready to go to heaven as she imagined. Again, I think, she shows the wisdom of age, for it is only when we are very young that we find a "longing for death" something to nurture in our-selves. Angela, hearing her epitaph, dis-covered new energy in herself. She still may not have been ready to lead a new movement, but neither was she ready to be led into eternity to the strains of In Paradisum. Whatever happened to her during those days in Cremona, she was resolved, at the end of this exile, to put down her traveling staff and follow the spirit she had been running from. She made one more short trip to Varolla that winter, to renew her memories of the Holy Land-- a symbol for her sense of purpose--then returned to Brescia and moved into a small room in Elizabeth Prato's house near the church of St. Afra. Now nearly sixty, Angela tucked into this new stage of her life with determination. She lived even more austerely, spent more time in prayer, and began to instruct her spiritual daughters. It is probably only a geographical coincidence that Prato's house was near the church of St. Afra, a 4th-century prostitute who achieved sainthood through martyrdom; but it is interesting that the early work of Angela's group was partly directed at.opening possibili-ties for "penitent women," a euphemism .for prostitutes. By 1532 Angela had gathered a small group around her and developed a rather extraordinary and yet quite simple idea: all the women would engage in an exterior apostolate and lead vir-ginal and virtuous lives, but would take no vows. In its broad out-lines this plan is reminiscent of the Beguines, religious associations of women begun in the 12th century in Belgium and the All the scary choices-- marriage, motherhood, convent life, professional training-- are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. July-Augt~t 1993 495 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Netherlands. Their success in the 14th century did not impress itself upon the clerical mind so much as the fact that they took no vows and were not subject to the rules of any order. Did Angela know about them? Was she attracted by their relative autonomy? Did she think their exp+riment was worth another try? Her idea was so simple and so revolutionary that it boggled the minds of the authorities: women would commit themselves to an apostolate--the care, protection, and education of girls--and they would promise lifelong fidelity to consecrated virginity. We may consider how her plan might have threatened men. Pious men would see women able to lead useful virtuous lives without their advice, and "men of the world," accustomed to pursuing an occasional dalliance, might now have to sneak into the house late at night, only to be met with the soulful glances of an at-home daughter vowed to virginity. Angela's notion of governance was also disturbing. However much she said about obedience to authorities, the Holy Spirit was her real teacher, and so she stipulated for her daughters. Her desire to trust the activity of the Holy Spirit in the individual heart, however, did not appeal to male authorities. On the con-trary, it frightened them profoundly. Charles Borromeo--still in diapers when Angela died--found the idea of an unmediated Holy Spirit speaking directly to the heart and conscience of individual women wildly dangerous. The changes made by this young arch-bishop of Milan in Angela's Rule are not surprising to anyone with even a minimalist feminist consciousness. Borromeo was a man of his times; Angela was a woman ahead of hers. I find it fascinating that, unlike some other reformers and founders such as Teresa of Avila, Angela did not invoke the com-mands of Christ to carry out her purpose or to solidify her sense of authority. She was sure that what she was doing was made pos-sible by and would be sustained by God, but she exhibited no need to couch her ideas in the language of mystical certainty. Perhaps because she was single and surrounded by eager disci-ples she had no need to talk about divine directives. Perhaps she did not have any. Her ideas about community seem to follow directly from her own experience, an extension of her practical holiness. The memory of her vision--by now no more than a vague request to a bereaved girl--and a st.eady relationship with God were enough for her. The practicality and ordinariness of her plans made her an 496 Review for Religious inspired leader with amazing insight into the needs of women. The frescoes she commissioned for her oratory--the meeting space and prayer room for her young group--constitute a kind of "womanspace" in which her young followers could imagine new possibilities for themselves. Angela's frescoes gave her fol-lowers examples of spiritual heroism. Looking around in that room, young women saw Angela's models. Ursula, Elizabeth, Paula, Eustochium, and, by some accounts, Catherine of Alexandria make exquisite sense and testify to the power of Angela's self-concept. She did not choose prepubescent martyrs or women noted for fasting and silence; she selected strong, bright, self-confident women. It is worth lingering on this point. Although the Catholic tra-dition has a long list of impressive women saints, women whose sanctity rests on suffering, self-effacement, and masochistic penances often predominate. That Angela did not choose such models for her girls speaks eloquently, not only to Angela's time, but also to our own. The women in her murals are all.mature, educated, learned, single, undaunted by male threats or violence, and autonomous in their fashion. Like Angela herself, these women exhibit an inner certainty and independence, making no great claims for themselves, but creating atmospheres of respect by their clearheaded, fearless lives. Even if we look at the under-side of their stories--Elizabeth's sick relationship with her spiri-tual director, for example--the last line of the story is one of strength rather than brokenness. All these women are virgins-- some belatedly, some, like Ursula, spectacularly--and all com-bine devotion to learning with lives of Christlike action. Within two years of the setting up of the oratory, Angela and twenty-eight of the young women who regularly visited that col-orful space signed a book promising to serve faithfully as members of the company of St. Ursula. Within five years that number more than quintupled, and Angela died, leaving behind a growing group, three small documents, and a legacy of self-reliance. How does one survive in a world where, in Yeats's descrip-tion, "the centre cannot hold"? Angela's writings suggest that she endured by reliance on the Holy Spirit, self-confidence, adapt-ability, and kindness. She assumed that her daughters would sur-vive and that God would somehow take care of them, but I see no evidence that she had much stake in gathering a group that would last forever. She does not appear to have been much of a worrier, 3%dy-~lugust 1993 497 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns perhaps because she thought of herself as a mother and had such a fearless concept of motherhood. Angela's model of mothering was dominated neither by the medieval bias that considered women to be morally and intellec-tually inferior nor by Renaissance romanticizing. In her reckon-ing, a mother is loving, but also demanding; tough as well as flexible; able to embody both divine mercy and divine judgment. As CarolynWalker Bynum has shown, these qualities are partic-ularly important in contrast to concepts of divine motherhood that we find in the writings of medieval monks. For them, moth-ers are eternally nurturing, never critical, always available, in other words, stereotypical in the worst ways. Angela's concept of motherhood is the best indicator of her independent spirit. Like the great female mystics of Helfta-- Gertrude the Great, Mechtild--she was able to look into the mir-ror and see herself and her daughters as powerful even as they committed themselves to lives of service. She managed for much of her life to be what many of us hope eventually to become, self-accepting, aware of life's bleak realities without being defeated by them, and so quietly self-confident that it seems not to have occurred to her that she would not be able to do what needed to be done. In managing to live without marrying or entering a convent, and seeing no reason why other women could not do the same, she may have failed to recognize the extraordinary qualities of her own personality, but in that, too, I see modest ambitions con-cealing a powerful sense of purpose. If I can do this, she seems to say, so can you. Little Wonder that young women were attracted to her. She looks out from the past, not with directives, but with encouragement. "Take heart," she says, "I have confidence in you." The word that dominates her writings is kindness, the notion that people can teach more effectively, pray more openly, and act in the world more compellingly insofar as they remember to be tender, encouraging, loving. The ability of hers to enable her fol-lowers by encouraging them to trust themselves is no small thing to emulate in these times of confusion and anxiety about the future of religious life. Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's oppor-tunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Among other things, feminism is a countercultural movement related to the ways women are taught to act and to imagine themselves. As 498 Review for Religiozts someone deeply committed to women in an age that was deter-mined to keep women in lives of subservience, Angela was coun-tercultural. Her relationships, attitudes, and actions did not fit the norm for Renaissance women, nor did they fit into the accepted molds for "pious" laywomen. She did not take up residence with a man in order to have an overseer, for example, nor did she count it a danger to faith to be living outside the control of a husband or a bishop. When she says, in Counsel number 7, to follow the old Law but lead a new Life, she makes a countercultural statement. In the ways she used her own expe-rience to make her life and the lives of other women better, she did then what feminists urge women to do now. Like women in most times, she knew that she could not operate as men do, by domi-nating a situation, and so learned to lead by other means. She was a madre, a mother and leader whose "gov-ernance" was more by example than by decree. At the same time, she was not afraid of provocative images of power, urging her fol-lowers to be "like Judith," the Israelite woman who saved her peo-ple by beheading the enemy leader, Holofernes. In her Counsels Angela suggests that her followers serve oth-ers; practice gentleness; not be anxious if they do their best; build community anywhere; teach by example; find refuge in Jesus; nur-ture those entrusted to them; honor authority in the community; and live in harmony. People can, of course, read those bits of guidance in profoundly conservative ways to suggest that Ursuline women simply comply with rightful authority and define them-selves in terms of old-fashioned virtues of maternal charity. Compassion, prayer, solidarity, and a creative imagination, they might say, have been the tools women have used for centuries to shape life toward their purposes, find they work well in traditional models. But I think it is also possible to read them as directions from a self-possessed, powerful woman to those she expected to follow her lead. The bottom line is Angela herself: she trusted her friends and counted on them to be able to make use of their own experience as she had done. As I see her legacy, she was more Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's opportunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns interested in encouraging women to trust themselves than she was in providing them with a set of rules and regulations. However one interprets her life, the things Angela did can still be done. Women today--laywomen and religious women--have moved beyond passivity and found new ways to make innovations and to ameliorate social ills, as she did. She knew how to read and respond to the sigris of the times in creative ways and assumed that her followers would, too. She was able to read the gospel in prag-matic terms, as a demand to respond to the human demands of everyday life, and left that as part of her legacy. She looked for a new form of religiou~ life within her own experience and com-bined it with the tried-and-true formulae of work and prayer and fasting to come up with something so ahead of its time that it scared the men in charge of things. That can still be done, too. Whatever happens to "religious life" over the next few years-- and there is no end of controversy about it--I believe that at least three things need to be combined with your own reading of Angela's life. These general recommendations apply to all of us. First, we need to know the Catholic tradition: to be literate about revelation, creation, redemption, Christology, grace, and the rest, not in order to hold on in an obdurate or triumphal way, but to have a solid appreciation of what Catholicism is and is not. With Angela as a model, be assured that I am not talking about the truncated tradition handed on by men, the one that excluded women. I am talking about the full, richly embodied, woman-rich tradition of Roman Catholicism. Those who teach young people know that we now stand in a stream of Catholic tradition that very few people really know or understand. Those whose lives are focused on education might be both scandalized and galva-nized by that fact. Second, we need to have a firm grasp of the sacramentality of Catholicism since it both strengthens the spirit and informs the imagination. If we understand that the things of the world are sacred, that God is often present in the most unlikely of places, then we might see new possibilities in the universe. We need, in other words, as Angela did, to cultivate our religious sensibili-ties: to paint frescoes, create new holy cards, celebrate life. Finally, I think we should read Scripture and its commentaries and make that a part of our prayer. Angela may have done good works and taught her "daughters". all afternoon, but only, I think, because she spent the mornings in St. Afra's in front of the altar, sometimes 500 Review for Religious deeply connected, sometimes wildly distracted, but always, rou-tinely, there. I was attracted to Angela Merici originally because she was a powerful woman and, in my reading, a reluctant founder. As I read and thought more about her, I was drawn to her sense of adventure, her willingness' to risk what may have looked like an idiotic experiment at a time when she may have been mostly tempted to retire. So how can Ursulines combine their founding charism--tied to Angela Merici--with tradition, sacramentality, and Scripture? The hard part of that question for me has to do with the Ursuline charism. What is it? Education? Virginity? Working with young women? The possible answers sometimes seem as multivalent as the life of the founder and perhaps, like all life forms, reflect some facet of divinity back to God in their par-ticularities. Ursulines together embody the varieties of Ursuline life in a way that highlights the many aspects of Angela that are worth emulating. The bottom line for me is confident innovation. I do not know if that constitutes a "charism," but it seems to me that it could. Seeing what needs to be done and doing it with an embracing charity, while refusing to capitulate to fears about the future, is a rather astounding legacy, as useful today as it was then. Bibliographical Notes Many of the ideas for a feminist reading come from the work I have done over the last decade on women in the Catholic Church. My New Catholic Women: A Contemporary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1985) is the best state-ment of that interest (see especially chapters 1 and 3). Joan Kelly's Women, History and Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984) is still the best place to start when considering the problems raised by feminist historiography. Because Kelly's work is often set within the context of Renaissance history, her essays were particu-larly useful in interpreting the context for Angela. Also, Carolyn Walker Bynum's books, especially Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982) are outstanding resources for thinking about the ways late medieval women actually thought and acted in the face of various religious and social changes. To learn about Ursulines, I began with Agnes Repplier's Mbre Marie of the Ursulines: A Study in Adventure (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1932), which gave me some amusing and provocative insights into Angela and Ursula along with the f~scinating story of M~re Marie herself. I am most indebted, however, to Teresa. Led6chowska's marvelous two- .l~uly-Augus* 1993 501 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns volume critical biography, Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula: According to the Historical Documents (translated from the French by Teresa Nylan and published in Rome: Ancora, 1969). I used this amaz-ing resource to reconstruct the events of Angela's life. The interpre-tation of Angela as "fleeing" from the voice of God and as a "reluctant" founder are my own. I was also instructed by various works of Ursuline historian Irene Mahoney, whose Portraits of Angela (privately printed, 1985) and St. Angela Merici: Foundress of the Ursulines (privately printed, 1985) are excellent books, full of detail and insight. Martha Bucer's Also in Your Midst: Reflections on the Spirituality of St. Angela Merici (Green Bay, Wisconsin: Alt Publishing Co., 1990) was also helpful. Friends provided me with various notes from Ursuline conferences, especially with a very large set of materials from an international conference in Rome in 1991. I read them with great appreciation and have bor-rowed from them here. Other books cited or alluded to in this paper include E.R. Chamberlain, The Bad Popes (New York: New American Library, 1969); Louise Collins, Memoirs of a Medieval Woman: The Life and Times of Margery Kempe (New York: Thomas Crowell, 1964); Dorothy Day, Loaves and Fishes (New York: Curtis Books, 1963); James Hennesey, American Catholicism: A Histo~bv of the Catholic Community in the United States (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981); H.EM. Prescott, Friar Felix at Large: A 15th-Century Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950); William Butler Yeats, "The Second Coming," in The Collected Poems of W.B~ Yeats (New York: Macmillan, 1959); and the Penguin Dictionary of the Saints (London: Penguin Books, 1965). Progeny Imagination gives birth to a new offspring with its own world of wonder. From a procreator's seed comes a poem or a painting, a sonata Or a cathedral. each pulsing with th~ heartbeat of Progenitor-God, Giver of beauty to beauty's ministers anointed with the rite of co-creation. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 502 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I am in a hermitage. It is, again, not what I expected. The brochure made it seem inviting, a way to satisfy the desire of my heart. I wanted a place to be--to just be, be an empty vessel in God's presence. I wanted to symbolize my response to God at this point in my life and to make sure I am open, attentive to any desire or whisper of the Divine. This hermitage looks out on woods that are covered with ten inches of pure white snow. As one walks, there is no sound but the crunch of rubber boots on a would-be path and the rusde of some frozen leaves that still hang on to bare branches like icicles. To be empty before the Beloved is my desire. And so I sit cross-legged on my saffron pillow before a large wooden cross, flanked by two small icons, and a vigil light. At last, I think, desire meets fulfillment in this quiet, undistracted place. But I am distracted; I am cold. I push the thermostat knob on the small gas heater behind me to its highest set-ring. The heater begins to ci'ackle and bang continuously and make little explosive noises every six minutes or so. It robs me of silence. As darkness absorbs the light of day, I get colder and colder. I have already layered myself in all the clothes I brought with me, and I have squeezed my Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ is a psychotherapist and spiritual director. Her address is 2311 Woodbridge Street; Suite 210; St. Paul, Minnesota 55113. prayer 1993 503 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I want God's truth to be straightforward-- no glitches. ice-cold feet with their two pair of socks into my new "Thinsulate" mittens. As my feet flop around on the cold wood floor, I remind myself of Emmett Kelly, the circus clown. It is not quite funny, however. I force myself to persevere for one half hour of quiet prayer, but the clanging radiator, my clanging mind, and my freez-ing body do not lead me to a place of rest. I decide it is time for the bread and cheese, the orange, and the cup of tea that are to be my supper. I watch the night as I eat. Each piece of food, each sip of tea, carries its own taste when one is so concentrated. The orange is succulent and sweet, the cheese substantial and rich, the bread mealy and nourishing, the tea satisfying. I am grateful for each. Fortified, I read the Scripture that lies open as if ready for me. I read Psalm 139 out loud and slowly, wondering as I do so if this is the place God will choose to cast some direct light and move my spirit to new understanding. I want to be awake. If I am supposed to be getting a message, if that is why I am here, I do not want to miss it. Toward the end of the psalm my spirit is thwarted by the words: "Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?" I cannot say these words; I check my own revised version of the text. It is the same. I close the book, wanting to feel glad that God knit me in my mother's womb, but put off by the dualistic image. This glitch prevents me from totally giving myself to this experience. I want God's truth to be straightforward--no glitches. After wrestling around a litde, I decide to again attempt some contemplative sitting. I drape the blanket around my head, shoul-ders, and feet. I set the timer for thirty minutes and wonder if I should. Perhaps this will be the time when I will just want to linger in God's presence unrestricted. So often when I experi-ence this desire some duty calls me away. This is partly why I am here in this hermitage--so I can linger in the sweet and loving presence of God or be carried beyond my own self-consciousness to a very deep and still place. I do not set the timer. I do not rest. I am very cold. I stay in this prayer position, waiting for the time to be over. I want to be comfortable. I am not. After twenty minutes I give up. I think of going to bed. I am tired and everything has taken too much 504 Review for Religious energy. The outhouse is the least of inconveniences, I think, as I stare blankly toward a small wooden washstand. Eight plastic gal-lon containers of water, icy cold, flank it. They are for washing, cleaning, and drinking. I do not like them. I decide it is too early to go to bed. It is only 6:45. I sit in the rocker, my glasses and I peeking out through the draped blan-kets, and begin to read about "unity." The cynical part of me wonders if Ruusbroec (or Ruysbroeck) could have written or known these things if he were as cold as I am. Another level of me intuits the abiding truth he is trying to articulate. I want to sip his words like fine wine and, like the effect of wine, feel them in all the cells of my body. But the resistance of my body and psyche to the frigid Minnesota weather that is penetrating this north-woods hermitage will not forsake its stance. Although I have only one page left to end the chapter, I do not continue. My heart is moved again by Ruusbroec's words when he writes about Christ's prayer for unity (Jn 17:21-23) and says it is the most loving prayer which Christ ever prayed for our salva-tion. I am touched that Christ was praying, that Christ too was filled with desire. Stay with this, I think; do not read further. I close the book. I go to bed. I am warmer. My mind goes back to Ruusbroec's words. I wonder: Is this the truth I am meant to penetrate? It has not quite caught hold of me deeply enough, I ruminate, but perhaps during the night my enlightenment will come. My mind casts about as my body begins to settle into the comfort of warmth. Perhaps Sharon, the woman running this retreat house, is a mystic who can read my soul and tell me things that God wants me to know. I fall asleep. I dream of Sharon. Morning comes. I hesitate to get up, to begin the ordeal of being cold again. I pray, eat breakfast (I do not have to dress because I am already wearing all my clothes), and go for a walk. The atmo-sphere is frigid; the sky is gray" and overcast. Ithink of leaving early. I do not need bodily hardship, I muse; things have been phys-ically hard enough this past year. I need solace and nurturing. However, I counter this thought by reminding myself that I am old enough in hermitage experiences to know one must let them be what they are, not impose oneself or one's desires on them. Let God be God, I remind myself, and you be an open space. As I reenter the hermitage, I realize I dreamt of Sharon, but can only remember her saying it is about change. I wonder if this 3~uly-A~t 1993 505 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life My time here has taught me how hard it is to contemplate when one is reduced to survival. is significant and a message from God or if it is a matter of my own projections and happenstance. Rather than get caught in this distraction, I reassert the pact I have secretly made with Divine Love and say: "You know my great love for you, you know I desire only you and your will; then, if you want me to move in a certain direction or to know something about you or me, you must let me know it in a way that is not obscure and leaves me free of doubt. I am open to you, but you must remove the obstacles that prevent me from knowing or seeing your will clearly. I am totally dependent on you for this and feel it is not too much to ask of one who is in a relationship of mutual love. In a word, do your stuff and I'll do mine." Inside I sit in the rocker that I have moved as close to the gas heater as possible. I pick up my pen and yellow pad and begin to write: My time here has taught me how hard it is to con-template when one is reduced to survival. Survival sets one's consciousness at the level of basic and immediate, human needs and so occupies it with food, clothing, and shelter that it gives no attention to deeper lev-els of reality. Consequently, these deeper levels of consciousness-- places where intimacy with Divine Being is realized and expressed--are, practically speaking, obliterated. The heinousness of human sin, its death-dealing power, is many-leveled. Starving peoples in Africa and war-torn countries come to mind. I put my pen down and pray: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. It is afternoon.I am still cold. In a few hours my time here will be over. I do not want to leave. As I begin to gather my things I think: This hermitage time was neither "lights on" or "lights off," as Ruth Burrows describes moments of the spiritual journey. I console myself with the thought that I came to be an empty ves-sel before God. Before leaving I sit one last time on my saffron pillow to pray. As I do so, I see outside my window a brown oak leaf surrender to a current of air, then glide gently down to the waiting snow. It is sitting there now, very still, ready in due season to become one with the earth. I sit too, quietly waiting, attentive, attuned to Love. ~06 Review for Religious ROBERT MCCOWN Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Or What You Always Wanted to Know About Being a Mystic But Were Afraid to Ask pmeople of the ancient world strove in many ways to com-unicate with whoever they believed to be out there, with whoeveg made the world and somehow controlled their lives and destinies. They offered in sacrifice choice things: grain or wine poured out, sheep or oxen slaughtered then immolated with fire. The smoke, they thought, would rise before the gods with a pleas-ing odor. Th.ey played flutes, used prayer wheels, painted their bodies, stamped their feet, and babbled. They hoped to get the gods' attention, to bring down favors from them. Human nature has not changed with the New Dispensation, nor have the ways men and women try to pray, except these are now purified and made gentle by revelation. Christ invited us to intimacy with his Father, and we respond by lifting our hearts to him: in the Eucharist (above ~11, the true and ultimate sacrifice), in vocal prayer (such as the Rosary), and in private prayer. We address God with words often chosen from the Psalms or given us by Christ himself or by his saints. These same words, as we use them, enrich our hearts and minds with wisdom. Robert McCown SJ has traveled widely in Japan, Thailand, India, and China. He has for the past two years been teaching literature in the University of Hangzhou, on China's eastern coast. His current address is: The Shrine of the Holy Cross; EO. Box 1497; Daphne, Alabama 36526. aTuly-dugust 1993 507 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Zen has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. But there are problems with using words in prayer--even God's words. Over time we tend to multiply them and to load onto them our own intellectual and emotional baggage, allowing our selfishness to co-opt their meaning. So in some prayers we might even want to dispense with words, to use body language only, which can sometimes be for us clearer, deeper, more pow-erful than spoken words. This, I think, is the prayer Christ meant when he said, "When you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret." In such private and largely nonvocal prayer we offer God ourselves in our silent presence, and God responds to us, creatively, in our lives. This kind of prayer goes under a variety of descriptive names: meditation, contem-plation, and mental prayer. There is a long history of it in the church, going back to her earliest years, but it flourished especially in Europe in the fourteenth through the six-teenth centuries with a succession of great spiritual directors. St. Ignatius Loyola taught his followers in his Spiritual Exercises to meditate upon structured concepts and upon chiseled images--both anchored in powerful words--to explore the destructiveness of their sins, to accept forgiveness for them, and then, centering their lives in Christ, to redirect them to God in service of the church. But he reserved a choice place at the end of these Exercises for his largely wordless, though still rich in imagery, Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love. Others led their fol-lowers to shun in their meditations activities of both the intelli-gence and the imagination and, instead, to go beneath these, down to the marrow of the soul, to encounter the Father in that secret "room" they felt Jesus was speaking of. Zen as practiced by Christians is, in many ways, like this lat-ter form of prayer. It is not new, for it has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. Although in recent years Zen has experienced in the West a growth in popularity, many devout people, unfor-tunately, have misconceptions of it, bringing mistrust. 508 Review for Religious Zen masters themselves often give little help in understand-ing their elusive discipline. When one puts questions to them about it, they often smile and remain silent. I believe this is because they see Zen not as a doctrine but as an activity--and thus an experience--so simple and immediate that, when one attempts to conceptualize it, he only obscures it, as when one tries to define the experience of love or of life. But I feel once people see what Zen is not--certainly not a rival to Christian spirituality--they may wish to try to do Zen themselves and thus to experience the extraordinary benefits claimed to derive from it. Let us consider first--lacking a better term--traditional Zen. Rather than enter the question of the historical origins of it, let it suffice to say it has been practiced for more than 1400 years. Concerning the question of its place of origin--whether India, Tibet, China, or Japan--let us concede simply that it developed in the East, probably in a pantheistic culture. But this should not influence Zen's practical value to us as a mode of meditation any more than the lack of faith of a philosopher should keep us from benefiting from his thinking. After all, a key foundation of scholas-tic philosophy and theology is a series of clear concepts St. Thomas found in the writings of the pagan Aristotle that first came to Europe through the works of Islamic thinkers. Of grea~er importance for our purpose are the reasons Zen developed into the form it ultimately took. These we hope we can intuit as we consider the practice of Zen itself; from these, perhaps, we can gain an insight into why Zen has been found by Christian con-templatives of former times and today to be useful in their prayer life. To do Zen one follows a series of seven conventions. So that our efforts remain not an exercise in looking only but translate into a creative experience, let the gentle reader observe successively these conven-tions as we set them forth: 1. Having chosen carefully the place for our meditation--as free as possible from distrac-tions, harsh lights, sounds, and drafts--we assume the Zen position, as shown in the illus-tration on this page. In this position we join our hands and bow from the waist in the tra-ditional oriental gesture of courtesy which here means, "Now I begin my meditation." A July-Aug~wt 1993 509 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation similar bow at the end will mean, "Now I end my meditation." If we must stand to attend to something--best disconnect the tele-phone beforehand--or we have an itch or a cramp we simply can-not ignore, we bow as we break off meditating, then again as we resume it. This puts parentheses around each session of our med-itation, separating it from interruptions coming from us and from our world around us. 2. We try to keep our backs as erect as comfortably possible: the base of the spine is the key. We do not worry if at first it tires quickly. After a couple of weeks of daily meditation, it will surprise us by its new toughness, even during longer sessions of Zen. 3. Our legs should be crossed as well as possible, but com-fortably, making allowances for bad knees and general decrepi-tude. We strive to keep faithful to the time we agree with ourselves to meditate daily. Twenty-minute sessions are good to begin with. As we go longer, circulato .ry pain in our legs can force us to take a break. For this, we bow, stand, join hands before us, pace the room for two minutes; then, taking again the Zen position, we bow, and resume meditating. 4. Our hands and wrists should rest comfortably on the insides of our thighs--left four fingers on top of right four fingers, the fingers underneath press up dynamically against those above, while the tips of the thumbs touch together ever so lighdy and del-icately. Here we aim to combine a relaxed and stable dynamism of our fingers with an alert delicacy in the touch of our thumbs. 5. Our head should be erect, tilted slightly forwar.d comfort-ably, and with chin in. Our tongue should rest relaxed in the base of our mouth, and we avoid all nervous movement of tongue and jaw. Lips should be relaxed and slighdy parted to permit exhaling through the mouth. 6. Our eyes should remain half closed and out of focus. If we close our eyes, we will go to sleep;, if we focus them on anything, that thing will become a distraction. 7. Our breathing should be not from the chest but from the diaphragm. We loosen our belts, allowing our lower abdomen full freedom to expand and contract. We inhale, knowing the air we take in through our nostrils will heal and give peace, and the air we exhale through our mouth will carry out those things that rob us of peace. This breathing is indeed the key to both tradi-tional and Christian Zen because, once we are in observance of these conventions, the conscious listening to the sound of our 510 Review for Religious breathing becomes the central continuous deliberate activity dur-ing the entire time we are meditating. W.e strive to make this breathing more and more regular, more deeply from the diaphragm. We seek to become increasingly absorbed in repose-fully listening to and centering ourselves in its sound. As we descend deeper into this centering, the thoughts, desires, and images that our mind naturally gener-ates will diminish to nil. If some persist, we do not fight against them, but, by continuously renewing this reposeful centering, we ignore them. If they con-tinue aggressively, it is probably because we are not observing certain of the conventions above. Perhaps our hands have slipped away from the position of dynamism and delicacy, or we are permitting nervous activity in our mouth. But most often the reason will be found in our breathing being not from the diaphragm, or our not centering ourselves in its sound. Striving meticulously to maintain these conventions, in spite of the turmoil our daily lives may be subjected to at the time, and striving, as well, to pass the whole period with a mini-mum of surrenders to needs to scratch or to shift our body's mem-bers, make for steady progress over the months, over the years. Indeed this striving for perfection in every detail--in posture and in centering in our breathing--becomes the daily bread and but-ter of Zen meditation. Even the pain we will feel in our legs after thirty or so min-utes of continuous meditation can be turned to our advantage. As this pain grows, we seek to enter it, to center within it, and, as it were, to find in it a certain rest. Thus our concentration upon our breathing will become more complete and more central, and foreign thoughts will be more completely excluded. The above conventions are, curiously, the essentials of Zen as it has developed over the past millefinium. Being in essence non-verbal, nonconceptual, and nonimaginative, Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. To those practicing Zen, it is the experience that matters, whereas the conflicting ways one tries to describe or analyze this experience are to them secondary at best. But for us Westerners, who look for reasons to be persuaded, let us ask what we are doing when we do Zen, and why. Simply stated, following these conventions meticulously permits us a Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. j~ldy-August 1993 511 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation maximum control of both our physical and mental activities, and from this we are able to suspend them partially. Thus, during meditation, the Zen position encompasses and brings under con-trol in appropriate ways every member and organ of our body-- even our heart--which, we will find, will beat slower as we descend deeper into the centering. While consciously listening to the sound of our breathing itself, we can make it more regular, more from the diaphragm, and it will further become the key to controlling and emptying the activities of our mind: memory, intelligence, will, and imagination, including especially emotions. Thus, in doing Zen we strive to make each session of medi-tation both as dynamic and as empty as possible. As far as I know there is no better way than this to disengage our physical and mental powers over an extended period of time while still con-tinuing awake and alert. Anyone attempting to observe self-imposed silence and recollection during a conventional retreat knows how recalcitrant our bodies and our minds are to this kind of discipline. Not even in sleep itself, which we now know is filled with both physical and mental .activity, is there such a diminish-ment of these as there is in Zen meditation. This partial suspension of our bodily and mental activities for a set period of time daily is the objective of Zen, and from this derive its singular benefits. As we strive for this disengage-ment, and achieve it in a growing degree, we are actually induc-ing our physical and mental powers into a daily, deep repose. Not only are each member of our bodies, but also the thoughts of our hearts, put to rest during our meditation: our conflicting values competing for dominance; our desires, inordinate or not; our ambitions and passionate longings; and our memories, both joy-ful and painful, with ruminations of past grievances. Thus we turn over, to our own mysterious powers of healing within us, our bodies, minds, and hearts; and from this daily repose and renewing of the whole person, a peace is given. We speak, of course, of daily meditation-Z-not over weeks, but over months, over years. If we do Zen faithfully, we will become aware of certain gifts that mysteriously enter our lives. We are surprised by new insights that fall out of nowhere into our minds, perhaps not during the time of meditation, but at other times dur-ing the day or night. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own best values, of how to bring to bear our nobler motivations. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own weaknesses, and we 512 Review for Religious see ways which perhaps we did not see before to put to rest inor-dinate desires. We become less afflicted by painful images of griefs or disappointments; and we are less obsessed by regrets, by per-sonal defeats and shames. Even memories of hurts from deep in our childhood, of which we are perhaps only barely aware but which still send poisonous tentacles up into our present relationships, can be uncovered and healed. We are mystified by how our own recuperative powers can now work within us. Just as, for exam-ple, when one morning we awake and realize happily that at last we are he~iled of a drawn-out bout with the flu, so in practicing Zen we might one day realize that now--but not before--we are able to turn with sincere affection toward a friend who has deeply hurt us. In short, what we experience in ourselves is a self-rehabilitat-ing human being, perhaps with long-immobilized personal gifts now renewed. From this, then, our own creative energies can emerge unencumbered, with a new freedom. This healing will often spread to others around us in our family, in our community and work place, even when they are not aware we meditate. As described thus far, traditional Zen is not intrinsically a religious action; it is, thus, neither theistic nor atheistic. Hence the curious smiles coming from Zen masters when one asks if, as practitioners of Zen, they believe in God. Somewhere further on in this direction lies the experience of enlightenment. Zen masters describe enlightenment as a percep-tion totally beyond reason, beyond imagining; intuitive, yet at the core of our life itself. All of Zen teaching, they add, is but an effort to take the disciple beyond concepts and images that stand for reality, and put him or her in intimate contact with that real-ity itself. It is in vain, they maintain, to pursue intellectually this stage, since all ratiocination on this point is useless, futile, and confusing. Thomas Merton calls this "the Zen fact" and com, pares it to an alarm clock. When it goes off, the sleeper 1) does not hear and just keeps on sleeping; or 2) making a misguided response, in effect turns the alarm off, permitting him to go back to sleep; or 3) he jumps out of bed with a shout of astonishment that it is so late. Zen is the alarm clock, it merely enables us to wake up and become aware. It teaches nothing. It points. Merton continues: "But we in the West, in ego-centered practicality and ¯ . . manipulation of everything, always pass from one thing to another, from cause to effect, from the first to the next to the last and then back to the first. Everything always points to something 3~dy-August 1993 513 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation else and hence we never stop anywhere because we cannot; as soon as we pause, the escalator reaches the end of the ride and we have to get off and find another one. Nothing is allowed just to be and to mean itself; everything has to signify something else. Zen is designed to frustrate the mind thinking in such terms. 'The Zen fact,' whatever it may be, always lands across our road like a fallen tree beyond which we cannot pass. Nor are such 'facts' lacking in Christianity--the Cross for example . . . which gives Christians a radically new consciousness." The way some Zen masters describe enlightenment, as an experience of the unity of all being, reflects the monistic, cos-motheistic, philosophical climate of Zen's origins; and it can be disconcerting to a Christian. Yet, if one takes seriously one of the central teachings of Zen itself~namely, that it is the experience and not the concept of it that matters--then one may judge pan-theistic doctrine as the above to be not central to Zen. Indeed such might be for us the "misguidance" that prompts us to turn off the alarm clock, to go back to sleep and miss the experience. The "fact" of Zen is simply the experience that puts us in touch with this ultimate personal reality itself, and that, I believe, must at last come down to be our own individual living soul--the con-crete reality, not a concept of it. We cannot think our way to our soul's living presence, or analyze or visualize it; but in doing Zen we are brought to the experience .of the soul's availing itself of space to renew itself, and then of its mysterious healing powers in renewing our body, mind, and heart. Being in Zen an apprentice of only some twenty-five years, a full-blown experience of enlightenment, with 'its sudden flash of intuition, is still unknown to me. Nor do I seek it as such; as Christian, I try to keep my heart open to whatever grace the Lord sends and to whatever form he wants it to take. But before we dismiss Zen and turn off the alarm clock, I suggest we take seriously stated opinions of respected specialists, not only of such as Thomas Merton or Dom Aelred Graham, but also of Dr. John C. H, Wu, an eminent jurist and diplomat, a Chinese convert to Catholicism, and a scholar, who is able to write of Zen not from hearsay or study alone, but from within. He is not afraid to write that he brought Zen and Confucianism with him into Christianity. Looking further back, I have been assured by Carmelites who are specialists in both their tradition of con-templation and in Christian Zen that these two traditions are 514 Review for Religious essentially the same: what Teresa of Avila, in her own inimitable way, and what John of the Cross--and what Meister Eckhart 200 years before them--practiced, perhaps unknown to them, was essentially Christian Zen. But what is Christian Zen, which we will now call centering prayer, and how is it prayer if traditional Zen is not? Will an attempt to use Zen in prayer, contrary to what Zen masters main-rain-- that one cannot accommodate true Zen to any ulterior pur-pose- render it ineffectual? To answer, let me offer an analogy. Consider a ballet apprentice who works daily on her technique. She may give little thought to what ballet grammar--the body language she is learning--might be saying or to whom; she metic-ulously strives only to perfect every move, every step of it. For the present, the immediate benefits of her efforts--pride in pleasing a respected teacher, satisfaction in mastering an art--are suffi-cient reasons for striving for self-discipline; and she grows daily in poise and beauty. But one day a certain impresario discovers her and offers her a part in a new production. Now she has two things she lacked before: a role, a dramatispersona to live within, and an envisioned audience. These give form and finality to her efforts. Just as this ballerina can adapt her previously acquired skills to this new orientation, so also, as many Christian contemplatives have found, the skills and the strengths of traditional Zen, with little change in its dynamics, can be fitted into the larger synthesis of Christian prayer. Neither our ballerina above, nor a person doing Zen medi-tations daily, acts without a certain basic desire, or even a pas-sion, which drives their actions, enabling them to keep a daily commitment. One must first wish to do what is necessary to become, to be--whether in ballet, in Zen, or in Christian prayer. Satisfaction found therein will, in turn, sustain and nourish the motivation. When the prophet Samuel was a small boy sleeping in the temple, he was awakened repeatedly by a voice calling, "Samuel, Samuel!" Each time he got up and went to his master, the elderly priest Eli, and asked what he wanted. Each time Eli replied, "I didn't call, my son; go and lie down again." Again Samuel heard the voice calling, and again he went to the old priest. But this time Eli, perceiving it was thd Lord calling, instructed him, "The next time he calls, you must respond, 'Speak, Lord, for your ser-vant is listening.'" Whether that night Samuel really heard the 3~uly-August 1993 515 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation voice of God, or whether he heard only, as he had many times before, the wind blowing through the porticos of the temple, his listening and then giving response is the same. It is the reality from which the call came that makes the difference between an obedient child and the prophet-to-be. We must listen continu-ously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. If we find traditional Zen apt for putting us in contact with the healing and peace-giving powers of our human spirit within, how much more will we find centering prayer apt for opening our beings to the Spirit of God within us, to surrendering ourselves to this Healer, this Comforter? It will be this Spirit's voice we listen for within the sound of our breathing, as she leads us into that silence within, where, using utterances beyond human words, with ineffable groaning, she cries, "Abba, Father!" Far from taking from Zen its dignity, thi~ carries it to its fulfillment. What a grace it is that Christian contemplatives discovered Zen and were able to enrich Christian asdeticism with it. The Christ-centered dynamics of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, especially when renewed yearly, give peace and build motivations to service, but they were not meant to be used daily over a long period of time when they can become exhausting. Centering prayer, on the other hand, not in contrast to the Exercises but ancillary to them, offers spiritual repose. Many of Ignatius's instructions can be applied with profit to Zen.medita-tion: making preparation before meditation by spiritual reading and acts of self-denial; cultivating honesty and sincerity in eval-uating our efforts at praying; making from time to time reviews of moments of joy or of sadness; and, with the retreat master's help, using carefully Ignatius's instructions on the discernment of spirits. In sessions of centering prayer, unlike in other forms of med-itation, one does not pray the words of any pious text, nor even of Holy Scripture. Words, whether we want them to or not, will bloom into images, and images invite concepts which multiply, and thus we are on the way to taking our bodies and minds out of that total surrender to the Spirit, the true mode of centering prayer. Rather, we should see each session of this prayer as that time when the Bridegroom is present before us, looking into our eyes, speaking into our hearts, so we put aside during this qual-ity time his love-letters from times past, no matter how treasured 516 Review for Religious they are. With no more than a bow of adoration and a word to greet him by name, such as, "Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner," we surrender ourselves with total passivity to his Spirit within us, who will shape our minds and hearts according to his holy will. In this action of the Spirit, one is reminded of a great, silent, mov-ing body of water, imperceptibly and with ease, carrying all obstacles before it. We will look forward to this daily prayer as the best moment of our day, and find in it an anchor for the rest of our lives. Let me mention now one special blessing I have received through centering prayer. When I was a very small child, I once heard my older brothers, one six, the other seven years old, talking about how hell is "for ever and ever--for eternity, which never, ever ends." My mind became beset with fearful images of this eternity, like "the void of infin-ity" that so terrified Pascal. These were most acute when I was ill, which I often was, with high fever, and with accompanying nightmares. During these I often dreamed I was looking up and saw the ceiling above me (and all reality with it) recede up and up and up, for ever and ever. My sight was forced to go with it, on and on, and I could never, ever make it stop; and that was eternity. And I felt desperately alone and forsaken. I could not turn off the nightmare, until my screams brought my father or mother who would awake me and comfort me. This terror remained with me even into later life. When I discovered Zen meditation, which then became for me centering prayer, I took up the custom, after meditating and during the brief prickly feeling as my legs recovered circulation, of lying back on the rug and looking straight up at the ceiling, never forgetting that this was the way I had so fearfully felt I was look-ing into the face of eternity. But over the years, gradually, imper-ceptibly, the terror departed. In its place has grown a trust in God's mercy and, even, flashes--ever so brief and fleeting--of joy in looking forward to my death, which now is approaching apace. These graces I consider among the most precious of my life. Remembering how the ancients strove to get the gods' atten-tion, we know we have already the Father's attention in his son, Jesus, who taught us to pray to his father by offering, not per- We must listen continuously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. 3~ly-Aug'ust 1993 517 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation ishable gifts of animals slaughtered or wine or grain poured out, but one infinitely more desirable: our total selves. This same Jesus promised, moreover, "whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give it to you." Jesus must have meant precisely that, unless we ask for something that is not good for us, then he will give us something else--something far better for us. Centering prayer, as an ancilla to the Spiritual Exercises, more than any other prayer method I know, enables us to put ourselves into this total trust-ing frame of mind, not stating what we think we want, or need, or when, but silently taking Jesus at his word and waiting. The Father, who knows our needs far better than we do, will respond; and why wouldn't he, since Jesus said he would? Night Prayer The saints have left for the day, their stained-glass coves Are dark. The night, that deep iconoclast, Obscures the panes with his breath, as a prayer revolves Inside me, calling to the blackened east. I close my eyes and linger there, in the glow Of a bleak and fallen image of the outcast world, And wander through remembered brambles that grow Where squandered immortalities should. When young I crossed an ocean. Nearing land Candescent seeds arose from the water's rim As if sown in the sky by a hopeful, graceful hand To mingle with a tide of stars, to bloom unseen. From the altar candles' final gasp of light Two tendrils of smoke vanish into night. Kevin McCaffrey OP 518 Revie~v for Religious MARY CORONA God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Iyhad been living and working in Amman, Jordan, for eight ears when in 1989 I began reading The Journeying Self, by Diarmuid McGann. Becoming deeply involved with it, I came across these words: "The journey of faith begins at the Lord's invitation. He finds us in our places of marginal existence, where we hunger for liberation." I did not go further than that for sev-eral months, but those lines I read over and over again. I could wrest no personal meaning from them, and yet somehow they riveted me. At the same time I was picking my way through a book by Karl Rahner. Being no scholar, "picking" is how I cope with Rahner, and yet I am hugely attracted by him. Of the many sentences I jotted down knowing that I would return to them, here are a few: In contemplation the pray-er is intent on hearing an utter-ance of God never given before . We need the courage to believe that God will say some-thing permanent. It will happen when God is ready. God places me in complete freedom. He deals with me leaving intact my autonomy and self-direction. God is Love and in the face of that--I decide. There were many more, and while I went about my life in community and my teaching duties, these thoughts floated in and out of my mind whenever my interior screen was empty, setting up such a longing that I knew I would need to respond sooner or later. Mary Corona FMDM lives at 6, St. Anthony's Road; Forest Gate; London E7 9QA; England. .~uly-Auguxt 1993 519 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed Remote PreparationmI Go to Anjara The time to plan my annual retreat came round. I thought of Jerusalem, where I had made retreats before, but I had little heart for going there because of the heavy military presence at the time. Though Jordan itself has no retreat facilities, I knew that Father Joseph Na'maat, a diocesan priest in the north of Jordan, had spare rooms in a separate building which anyone was welcome to use on a self-catering basis. He said if I came during July I would have the entire building to myself. With typical Jordanian courtesy he also told me that his house and his table would be mine anytime I felt lonely. Josephine, his housekeeper, would, he assured me, keep an eye on things and make sure I was all right. The fee was so small it was a joke. So eight days on my own loomed. How would I work it out? I went along the shelves of our library and found Rahner's Eight Day Retreat and a paperback copy of the Ignatian Exercises. From my room I picked up my Bible and missal and that was all. I think the journey of faith McGann discusses began for me that day. I felt quite naked going off with what seemed so little in the way of resources. Anjara is a village in the northern Jordanian countryside. Feeling at home in the Arab world and having enough Arabic to do my own shopping, talk with people, and get by generally, I had no fears along those lines. On my arrival I was given a warm welcome by Father Joseph and the redoubtable Josephine. Then, after being shown "my" building and handed the keys, I heard the oft-repeated words "If it gets too lonely, you know where we are!" That first evening I worked out a program for the eight days, allotting time for the breviary, rosary, and Scripture reading. I then marked out three separate hours daily for prayer, leaving time for rest and recreation which, during the eight days, would take the form of walks, sitting on the roof in the sun absorbing the view, and wandering in my host's extensive orchard followed by his floppy old dog. Knowing nothing previously about the Exercises, I soon aban-doned the paperback because it made no sense to me.I stuck to the Bible and the missal and continued to read over the sentences from McGann and Rahner which had so affected me. For the full eight days I spoke to no one, except the dog. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over 520 Review for Religious for the day. Through the grace of God, I remained faithful to all to which I had committed myself. On my final evening Josephine came to bring me over to sup-per and, like the hedgerow and byways folk of the gospel, I was compelled to attend. If you have never experienced an Arab sup-per or indeed Arab hospitality, you have missed one of life's love-lier moments. We sat on the verandah eating, talking, and--I must admit--drinking slightly too much of Father Joseph's homemade wine. The sun slowly sank behind the brown hills. Lamps were lit, creating a soft pool of light in the velvet darkness, and the night insects began their con-cert. We sat on. Eventually, however, and with real reluctance I rose, to a duet from Father Joseph and Josephine of "So soon?" I went to bed that night heavy with good food and wine and quite drunk--no, not from wine, but from the heady smell of honeysuckle and jasmine coupled with the heart-swell that comes from having spent a long summer evening with friends. The following day I returned to Amman knowing that I must do the long retreat. This is where the invitation mentioned by McGann and previously so dimly perceived was pointing. What a Franciscan was doing being so convinced that a Jesuit approach to life and prayer was the right one, I cannot say. But convinced I was. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over for the day. To Wales I set about obtaining permissions for the following year and began to look for a place. Almost everyone I spoke to suggested looking for a Jesuit-run center, saying this w6uld be right for what I had in mind. But I prefer retreat houses run by women: they are cozier, and I like my creature comforts. After a few blanks I got a positive answer from a small guest-cum-retreat house, Coleg y Groes, in North Wales. Yes, they could take me. Yes, one of them could direct me. Yes, they were in the heart of the coun-try, and to all my other questions yes . . . yes . . . yes. I booked, hesitant to share with some of my more conservative friends that all was not as they might expect. I would be alone without the support of a group; I would be directed by a deacon, not a priest; 3~uly-Aug~tst 199.t 521 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed worse still, an Anglican deacon; worse again, a woman Anglican deacon! What would Ignatius have said? In August 1990 I returned to England, and in July 1991 I traveled to Wales. Arriving in time for supper, I found the small 18th-century house nestled behind the Anglican parish church in the village of Corwen. My room was very nice, with the promise of quiet. My quick eye noticed the electric kettle, tea bags, and coffee. It all augured well. I began to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then eeing the signs going wrong. I Meet My Directress Margaret, who was to direct me, suggested I join the other guests for supper that first evening; after that I would dine alone. Supper was served in a delightful low-beamed room with a huge fireplace cut from Welsh stone. Flowers were in the deeply set window alcoves, and the whole place exuded security and good living. I began, however, to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then seeing the signs going wrong. To my Roman mind the conversation became so Anglican, cen-tered on the ordination of women. Most of the women present, and indeed Margaret her-self, were ordained deacons. It was the last thing I wanted to get involved in. Intermingled with that were fairly long dis-sertations on the three resident cats. I drained my coffee cup as I tried to quell the rising panic within me. Relief came when Margaret suggested we go to my room for a first talk. In five minutes my fears evaporated. I knew instinctively that in her I was on to a winner. That night I slept well, waking totally refreshed. I made coffee, and one glance at the Welsh weather put me into warm trousers and a thick sweater. In the still sleeping village I found the small Catholic church. Inside, in a back pew, was a very still figure. I knelt down near the door, ready to escape if this man were not the sort I ought to seek out for company. After some minutes he looked up and said "Welcome." This was Father Joseph (I seemed destined to be mixed up with Josephs and 522 Revie'w for Religious Josephines). In answer to my question he said that so seldom did anyone come for daily Mass that we could arrange it any time suited to the two of us. Father became a true friend to me during my thirty days. He watched over me with such care and was always available for counsel or confession. That first morning he arranged for me to have a key to the church so that I could come and go at will. He knew Margaret and felt I was safe in her hands. The Thirty Days Begin And so the routine for the thirty days began. Margaret sug-gested that for the first three days I just browse over my own favorite passages of Scripture, go for walks, and take on an atmo-sphere of quiet. That first morning I took my Bible and went out. I sat overlooking a sweeping green valley and read slowly through some of my favorites: "Widen the spaces of your tent." (Is 55:2); "Behold the Bridegroom is coming." (Mt 25:7); "May He give you the power., to grow strong . " (Ep 3:16-21). And through it all I wondered just what I was doing, alone in Wales, on the threshold of this experience. Those first three days went in very gently. Sleep, walks, quiet reading, and three one-hour prayer periods a day. The kettle, tea, and coffee played their part. On the fourth day we started in earnest into the pattern of the retreat. We moved into four one hour periods of prayer a day. Each "day" would begin at 5 p.m. The four "weeks" were to be flexible as regards length. Margaret spent considerable time giving me the background to the Exercises. As she spoke, words from Robert Gleeson's intro-duction to Anthony Mottola's translation of the Exercises came back to me: "Ignatius intended to stay in Manresa for a few days. These days stretched into ten months with results that are still reverberating around the world." Yes, I thought, even to Corwen. Something of Margaret's own love for Ignatius overflowed into me. Here was no mere competent guide, but rather one who was imbued with the spirit of Ignatius. I felt very secure, but real-ized Margaret was no soft touch as she explained the conditions: no reading, other than that prescribed; no music, news, corre-spondence, conversation, and so forth. She spoke of the neces-sity of being utterly faithful to the full one-hour prayer periods, and she warned me off interior conversation which could easily become the little foxes destroying the vineyard. When she had July-Auffust 1993 523 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed finished, my snug feeling of security had drastically slipped, to he replaced by a sense of vulnerable nakedness. Thus stripped I entered the first "week" of the retreat. The First Week (Seven Days) Sin, in its hideousness, was the focus of this first week. Powerful meditations on words previously heard but never fully absorbed came back to influence my prayer. The First Principle and Foundation offered at the beginning of this week presented such a challenge thai it almost unseated me. Could I, in complete sincerity, make such a prayer? Part of my background reading said, "This law which I enjoin on you this day is not beyond your strength" (Dr 30:11-14). These words stood, like a kind mother, beside the demands of the First Principle and Foundation, urging me to compliance. Yet I hesitated. I moved on into the sin of Adam and Eve; the Angels; the Prodigal Son--all meditated on against a background of Philippians 2:1-11, Baruch 1:13-22 and 63, and Ephesians 1:13- 14 and all deepening in me an appreciation of the heinousness of sin. Karl Rahner says (I quote from memory), "I need to see sin, not so much as an offence against God, but rather as a rebuff against Jesus personally," and "I see him wasting there on the cross--for us--and ~eeing him in such plight, I make my deci-sion." It is difficult to take a detached view of sin with words like that running round one's mind. As the first week was coming to a close, the next commit-ment point was drawing near, the Kingdom meditation with its inbuilt self-offering; and yet I had still not made the First Principle and Foundation my own. I felt discouraged. If I could not per-sonalize the sentiments of the First Principle and Foundation, was there any point in going on? I told Margaret of my difficulty. She suggested rewriting it in language I would feel at home with. And that proved to be the answer. It was the stiff, masculine lan-guage that was getting in the way. After rewriting it in my own words, I could accept what Deuteronomy had been trying to tell me. On the seventh evening Margaret said that tomorrow would be a repose day. She explained what this meant: one prayer period this evening, a good night's sleep, then, after morning Mass, out for the day; on my return in the evening, one more prayer period 524 Review for Religious before she came to see me. She gave me a few ideas as to where I could go. I chose Llangollen: it seemed a place where I could continue to be quiet while doing something different. The Kingdom Meditation-- and Some Sort of Disturbance The meditation given me for the eve of the repose day was the Kingdom, so after supper, and with my inner eye on my day out, I settled down to this period of reflective prayer--and it all went wrong. The whole hour tumbled around in a confusion of despon-dency and misery. I saw myself as a hypocrite and a fool and felt sick with disappointment and embar-rassment. I was not being called as Rahner sug-gested; this was all totally beyond me regardless of Deuteronomy; there was nothing here for me. Some of us are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. Illusion would get me nowhere, and get-ting nowhere was costing a lot of money and time. Leaving my room, I went out into the garden. The moon was riding high, swiftly brushing aside the small clouds which, busy about their own affairs, were trotting along in the opposite direc-tion. Shadows flitted about the garden, and some-where nearby an owl hooted. Further away a dog was barking, but it soon trailed off into a lazy yawn--his heart just was not in it. And here, under the canopy of deep sky, my thought slowly came together and clarified; I began to see what was going on. I returned to my room and found my crucifix and holding it firmly commanded, in the name and power of the crucified and resur-rected Christ, everything not of God to depart. I repeated the command twice. The result: "The storm abated and there was a great calm" (Mk 4:39). Without further ado I made my Kingdom offering as given by Ignatius, went to bed, and slept. Some of US are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. The First Repose Day A glorious day of sunshine and Welsh mountains. A ride on the Railway Enthusiasts' railway from Llangollen along the moun-tainside to Deeside Halt; a leisurely walk by the canal where later I sat and ate my sandwiches while watching boys--up to the age ~uly-Aug'ust 1993 525 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed of forty plus--playing with their boats. Full of fresh air and peace, I returned to Corwen on an early evening bus. Each turn in the road presented a different scene to delight the heart, and I found myself silently singing the word of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun: "All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made., and first for Brother Sun. how beautiful he is! How radiant!., and Brothers Wind and Air. and all the weathers' moods . " It seemed so appropriate. (Something I discovered during these thirty days was that Francis and Ignatius have much in common.) After supper Margaret came, and I told her of the previous night's upset. She said it was to be expected and then referred me to the description of discernment of spirits in the Exercises, where it was all clearly set out. The important thing, she said, was that I had made the Kingdom offering. Much was gained and nothing at all lost. The Second Week (Eleven Days) And so into the second week. I traveled far in that week. Journeying with Jesus through his life in the given meditations, I became aware of another journey I was making, toward a deeper commitment--and yet my previous fear of.fidl commitment reared up again and again. The demand was too clear, too total, too final. There was no space for maneuver. I stalled badly and frequently during that week. Margaret advised me to use the First Principle and Foundation offering and also the Kingdom offering as ways into the given meditations. She also gave me some salutary advice: "Don't try to give today what properly belongs to tomorrow." "The grace for the future is not yet being offered." I remembered similar advice given me in the past. As a young sister I had made a group retreat under a Carmelite friar. In one of his talks he said that many people fail to advance because they quail before what they fear may be asked of them if they say an unreserved yes. They forget that God is totally to be trusted and would never take unfair advantage of a generous yes. A superior, at a later date, took up the same theme with me (it seems I have had this lack-of-trust problem forever!) and said: "The Lord is total courtesy. He doesn't grab. He looks at what you have and asks 'May I take this?' If you refuse, he will not insist--for the time being any-way." Urn--for the time being. 526 Review for Religious The Two Standards and the Three Classes of Men These meditations caused the same problem that the First Principle and Foundation and the Kingdom had caused; as I saw it, all called for total and irrevocable commitment. Again I had to remind myself of what Margaret had said and what the Carmelite friar and my own superior had said when I was just knee high in my religious life. I spent long hours beg-ging the grace of trust. I tried to reset my focus and not waste precious time looking at abstract problems and missing the grace of reality. I turned to St. Francis at this stage and found his presence a great comfort. On the twentieth day, after lots of struggle but also tremendous peaks of joy and achievement, Margaret suggested I spend one day drawing the experience of the entire two weeks together and then summarize it in a truth-ful prayer of offering. As I set about doing this, I found it amaz-ing how I could look back along the road I had traveled and see so clearly the efforts, frustrations, joys, hopes, gains, losses, and desires and the loneliness and--running in and out of it all like a flame in dry grass--the'fear. And yet ~omehow it all came together with a marvelous coherence: everything fitted. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. I had definitely moved. I had moved light years from where I had been two weeks previously. For better or for worse, I had moved. The agonizing lack of trust, the fears, the anxieties were all part of this pattern of walking. The Lord had supplied where I had been weak. Together we had made it through these two weeks. He had blessed me beyond all imagining and had accepted my desire as though it were something of substance. I was content. On the twenty-second day, a repose day, I went to Ruthin and presume I had a relaxed day, but I have no memory of it. Without the brief note in my journal saying I had been there, I would not know I had. What that says about me I have no idea. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. The Third Week (Five Days) Margaret moved me into the last earthly days of Jesus. Over the next days, spread over five one-hour meditation periods, which j~¢O-dugust1993 527 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed included a midnight hour, I contemplated the Lord at the Last Supper, Gethsemane, and Calvary and right through to the postresurrecfion period. Having visited the Holy Land many times while living in the Middle East, I found it very easy to situate these meditations, but somehow the depths eluded me. On the twenty-fourth day Margaret suggested that I spend four of my five one-hour prayer periods reading through the four different accounts of the Passion. Anyone who has done this in one day will know it does not come easy. Physically it is draining to read something of that nature and length with concentration. By the evening it had quite taken me over, and after supper I went for a long walk, but somehow I could not shake off (was I even meant to?) the felt heaviness of trudging the Calvary road four times. Another Disturbance It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. During the night I woke in the grip of a strange tension, feel-ing physically cold and frightened. I have never been especially brave, but I am not given to irrational fear, and this sense of men-ace was wholly irrational; yet it made me feel that, if I did not give up this retreat, it would break me. For several minutes I did nothing beyond switching on the light and allowing the fear to swamp me. Fear of what? I could put no name to it. Then I remembered Margaret's words, based on those of Ignatius: "It is common for the evil spirit to cause sad-ness, fear, discouragement, and acute anxiety and to place all sorts of obstacles in the way of right reason. The good spirit gives courage, strength, inspiration, light, and peace so that right reason will prevail. Learn to distin-guish." Once again I reached for my crucifix and holy water and followed my previous routine. All returned to normal, but it took some time. The twenty-sixth day I spent quietly looking back over the entire Passion. It proved to be a very hard day. It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. On the twenty-seventh day, another repose day, I went to Lake Bala. It was a beautiful day, but too hot. Tourists and pic-nickers were all over the place--not helpful. I found the Catholic 528 Review for Religious church, a small converted stable. It was very peaceful, and I stayed quietly there for some time before boarding the bus for the ride home through heart-lifting scenery. The Fourth Week--Coming to the End I was now coming to the end of this whole experience, and Margaret suggested moving back from five to four periods of prayer, 6mitring the night one. She also brought me a tape recorder and some classical-music tapes. Winning some grand prize could not have brought me more joy. I was ecstatic. On the twenty-eighth day I meditated on John 20:11-18, Mary Magdalen's encounter with Jesus in the garden, with Isaiah 30:18- 26 and 35:1-10 as background. I also used Luke 24:13-35, the Emmaus story, with Psalm 62 as background. I became quite filled with the quiet. Jesus' sufferings were over. His pain was finished. I was able to walk calmly in the garden with Mary Magdalen--you see, I knew the answer to her question. The Emmaus road also was peaceful. Again I had the advantage: I knew who he was. All this was leading me quite naturally into the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love. From the twenty-ninth day onward I used this con-templation for one period each day, the other three periods cov-ering postresurrection Scripture. I continued my daily walks in the serene countryside, which for me became Galilee, where Jesus said he wo~ld meet his friends again and where I myself have walked many times. A Final Disturbance One meditation, on the thirtieth day, was given over to the events that include Jesus cooking breakfast for his hungry disci-ples. As I moved further into the scene, it all changed and became blasphemous; but I did not recognize it as such. My discerning powers were, it seemed, in suspension. During Mass the follow-ing morning I became aware that something had been very wrong with that meditation. I looked back at it and saw immediately the gross irreverence of the scenes which had been presented to my view. I was aghast and marveled that I had not realized at the time what was going on. I went hotfoot to Father Joseph after Mass and poured out my sorry story. He took it all very calmly--as con-fessors are apt to do--and explained how the devil will use every July-August 1993 529 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed possible means to stop a person pursuing a course that has as its aim a closer union with God. Margaret, of course, said the same thing. The experience left me with a profound disgust of the one who works such evil things. The Final Days The thirty-first and final day arrived. I drew together the ele-ments of the four key meditations--the Kingdom, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men, the Three Modes of Humility. I then moved them into a prayer of offering that I tried to make utterly truthful and realistic for me. Later that day I had a final few words with Father Joseph and returned the keys of the church. Back at the house I had a last talk with Margaret and my retreat was over. The following day I left Corwen and--via Wrexham, Chester, Crewe, Euston, and Plaistow, changing train or bus at each one--I arrived home in London. Eighteen Months Later Days have built on days, and a year and a half has passed since my long retreat. By now it should have gone the way of all the others. It has not done so. Father Joseph's words during our final talk, "You will never be the same again, this experience has changed you," have stayed with me; I know them to be true. That retreat has changed many things. It has set sin in its right context, one which makes scant distinction between small and big offenses. It has cleared away any number of secondary purposes and under-lined the one purpose for which I was born. It has filled my store-rooms with kindling, that I may not perish when my winter fires burn low. It has increased my recovery rate, so that sin and repen-tance are almost simultaneous. It has brought a staying power I never thought to possess; a strength to stay with prayer even when, apparently, there is nothing in it to stay for. It has brought an acceptance that I am as I am and, as far as performance goes, the future will not be much different; progress will still be wob-bly, with backward steps, with fears and sin. But this acceptance of my situation has brought a new dependence; I know I will make it through to the end if I cling like a limpet to Christ. There is, quite simply, no other way. 530 ' Re~ie~ for Religious The Human Face of God But overriding and underpinning all this is the greatest change of all. I am aware that, through all the contemplations of that month, even those during which I was distracted, irritated, fidgety, or just plain bored, God was working. He was working as one whose work it is to take an old manuscript, mosaic, or fresco and restore it to its original beauty; he was etching and bringing into relief, for me personally, the lines of his own human face. I can no longer think of God without, at the same time, seeing Christ; I see him, in some small measure, as Francis of Assisi saw him in great, in the people, however seemingly insignificant, and in the events, however trivial, that form th~ fabric of my everyday life. This new vision is the greatest grace to accompany me into these, the afterdays. The word "Wales" will never again mean for me just a geo-graphical place, hut rather will set a pause for remembering: remembering that revelation did not end with the Apocalypse; remembering how God revealed his face to me in Wales; remem-bering how something of beauty was planted within me and has, in spite of me, continued to grow. My life has become perma-nently divided into "before Wales" and "after Wales." And it all started way back in Jordan, where I "hungered for liberation" and knew myself "intent on hearing an utterance of God never given before" (in the words of McGann and Rahner) and felt strongly impelled, Franciscan and all that I am, to take up the invitation to an Ignatian experience. That, and so much more, is what my long retreat was all about. 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 distri-bution, advertising, or institutional promotion or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be consid-ered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. July-August 1993 531 TAD DUNNE What Trouble Is spiritual life Most of us, at some lull in the cacophony of life, think to ourselves, "I really should be a person who . " And we take some stand on avoiding trouble. Of course, trouble wears many hats. There is the regular trouble of having to learn through our mistakes. There is our unwitting igno-rance of the times when our behavior makes others roll their eyes. Or maybe the trouble is our own doing, like the lies we lay on others and the follow-up work we lay on ourselves just to keep our stories straight. Or like the legacy of emotional trouble callous parents bequeath to their children that continues long after they have died and the children have grown up. The stand we take to avoid trouble is usually rather elemental. We hope a simple strategy can meet every kind of trouble coming our way. Not that we succeed. Indeed, the reason we do not succeed may well be that the way we defined our troubles was a big mistake. This is why, for many of us, our images of God are shaped less by our experience of divine help or by the Scriptures and more by how we conceptualized our getting into trouble in the first place. When people describe their spiritual journeys to me, they usually divide the chapters according to this or that difficulty from which God delivered them, but the difficulties were defined very often by simple earthly sym-bols, not by any measures drawn from revelation. Tad Dunne writes on contemporary spirituality. His address is 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. 532 Review for Religious We get most of the symbols of our troubles from the drama of everyday life--a vacillating boss, a domineering spouse, hard work with no reward, bad weather, and so on. But where people draw the line on what is unacceptable to them will vary nation to nation, old to young, woman to man, race to race. So, before we assume that our view of trouble is totally objective, we need to look instead at the experiences of trouble common to everyone. Then we can look at what the gospel says about trouble and make comparisons about what we have observed. Our universally common experiences of trouble lie not in the dramatic but in the practical patterns in our experiences--expe-riences like carrying burdens, feeling slowed down, running into roadblocks, taking chances and missing, setting schedules and failing to meet them, planting seeds that produce puny fruit, arranging our surroundings carefully and finding that the sur-roundings have trapped us. Everyone, in any culture, grows up with these practical troubles and looks for ways to overcome them. The Example of Physics For the sake of talking about these analogs of our miseries, it will help to classify them. One simple way follows the example of physics. In physics we expect events to occur either in a natural relationship to other events or just coincidentally. While physicists talk about the naturally related events by using terms like elec-tromagnetism, gravity, or inertia, children simply notice that when A happens, then B usually happens. Behind the merely coinci-dental events lie no laws at all, so physicists talk about probabil-ities and norms while ordinary people talk about taking chances and seizing once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Each of these two kinds of expectations, of regularity and of chance, gets frustrated in its own way. Regularity is frustrated when a routine is broken or a law is not followed. Chance is frus-trated when overcontrol eliminates the lucky chance or when exceptions to the rule are somehow ruled out of court. But each kind excludes the other, and so, pressured as we ar.e by this intrin-sic antinomy to Choose only one as our fundamental code for translating experience into meaning, some of us worship a God of Law and others a God of Freedom. The Broken Routine. The God of Law is incarnated in our ear- 3~uly-August 1993 533 Dunne ¯ What Trouble Is God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. liest teacher of regularity: the sun. It gives us as children a sym-bol of what it means to be faithful, kindly, and dependable. We learn at an early age what our race took eons to formulate in a principle: that bodies in motion keep going and bodies at rest stay where they are. If only people could be that orderly! So we experience the trouble of broken routine. Things are going smoothly and something interrupts. Interruptions and contradictions are our enemies, though we can never fully avoid them. Better calm down and do what God expects and all shall be well. Pity those who live in chaos, who seem never to settle down, who spend their lives searching for they know not what. They could well learn a lesson from nature that life lies in regu-larity and dependability. This elemental experience of day alter-nating with night has a remarkable influence on the loftiest and most religious levels of our psyches. We imagine the kingdom of God as a smooth meshing of generation upon generation of peo-ple, as if the oiling of divine grace was meant to eliminate all fric-tion between people. God is an implacable and consistent Trinity, a perfect community, an example which every human family and nation is called to imitate as far as possible. God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. Life is essentially a struggle of law and order over anarchy and extreme independence. OvercontroL The second kind of trouble is practically the oppo-site of the first. As the first kind loves controls, the second hates them. At some time in our growing up, when we discover that we have taken too many of our parents' controls to heart, we start to wriggle free of them. We take a chance. When governments lay such heavy controls on people that hardly anything is left to chance, we condemn them. The worst kind of control, of course, is self-imposed--when I make more resolutions than I could pos-sibly keep or when I forbid myself to ever try anything daring or maturing. Trouble is anything that impedes probabilities. These elemental experiences tell us that God is a God of free-dom, calling us to a radical trust in all we do. The voice is per- 534 Review for Religious vasive: Let go of trying to control everything and everyone; you are ruining yourself in the process and will never succeed in any case. God will never lay a load on your back without also giving you a strohg back with which to carry it. "Look at the birds of the air . " Human planning is largely a waste of time. The goals of our endeavors so seldom match their outcomes that it is a won-der we keep on setting goals. God will intervene at the oppor-tune moment; divinity cannot be pinned down to laws and predictability. And so on. The Example of Biology Notice how these first two kinds of order and trouble are dis-tinguished by whether or not individual events are either part of some repeating cycle or the result of mere chance. We can also look at sequences of events or stages in something undergoing development. Again, to keep this simple, we can distinguish two fundamental kinds of development, those driven by a single law or principle and those driven by forces only coincidentally related to each other. The single-law kind can be illustrated by seeds. Tulip bulbs develop tulips, not dandelions, and, within quite narrow ranges of development, tulips everywhere look alike. Multiple-principle development can be represented by human relation-ships. People's values differ from each other across the face of the earth far more than tulips do. The reason is that the genetic coding in the fertilized egg that each of us once was does not confine the range of our potential development anywhere near as tightly as the tulip's coding does. Growing up, we continually "recode" ourselves by our choices. By interacting with others we develop in dialectical fashion, making something unrepeatable of both ourselves and our surroundings. If both the genetic (single-law) and the dialectical (multiple-principle) kinds of development are elemental,-then we can expect them to precondition what we mean by trouble and, by exten-sion, what we mean by God's saving grace. Again, the dichotomy between these two kinds of development tends to force a reli-gious choice between a God of Success and what I shall call a God of Exchange. The Weeds among the Wheat. One kind of trouble is caused by bad beginnings. It concerns anyone anxious to make continual July-August 1993 535 Dunne ¯ 14/-bat Trouble Is growth and progress, anyone who worships the God of Success. Long before people study genetics in biology, they experience built-in potentials and patterns of growth everywhere, in flow-ers, birds, and house pets. But some elements interfere with nat-ural fulfillment and choke the natural process of growth. These elements may be people, who themselves have been affected by their own upbringing. The notion here is that people are basi-cally good and that, given rich soil and hearty fertilizer, every person and every project will turn out a success. The worst form of this kind of trouble shows when a person feels predestined to fail because of some original and irreparable personality flaw. If we develop sheerly by genetic laws, then it would follow that God calls us to be creators, to overcome obstacles, and to keep a positive spirit. There is no doubt that the kingdom will come; the inner workings of grace in history guarantee it, sure as an acorn will become an oak. Our job is simply to help it come more quickly. It will be a kingdom of exciting new discoveries, increasing cooperation among all people, and continual improve-ment in people's health and happiness. The Good News is simply the announcement that Jesus loves you and that you have the germ of grace within you. Sin is ignorance, not malice. Evangelization is chiefly education; moral reform will follow auto-matically. In the meantime, we are called to grow in holiness, to grow closer and closer to God like a blossoming flower. Hoarding Energy. This fourth kind of trouble is also about growth, but the pattern of development is determined by a series of events related to each other only by chance. We notice how living things are determined not only by origins or seeds but through a continual exchange with their environments. Here biol-ogy studies how living things give and take within their ,sur-roundings. Flowers give honey to bees while the bees ensure progeny for the flowers. While genetic coding strictly limits any one bee's behavior, the location of beehives and the proliferation of flowers are interdependent. Should a storm wipe out one, the other soon disappears. So nature's contentious personality gives us a symbol of a God of give-and-take, a historical God, an engaged God. Farmers plow their fields and their fields return corn. The better the plowing the better the corn and the better the farmer. The quality of the exchange has a dialectical effect on both sides. 536 Revieva for Religious The same goes for the growth and decay of our friendships. Eventually the friendship is either good for both of us or good for neither one. Trouble comes when things cost more than they return. If a boy exasperates his friends by compulsive chatter, he does not feel energized. He wears everyone out, including himself. Then there is the trouble we cause when we take more from the phys-ical environment than we contribute to it, as is evident in oil spills, acid rains, and fluorocarbon-charged spray cans. Whatever the case, there is trouble eithe

Issue 48.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1989. ; R F.vu-'.w FOR RF.uG~OUS (ISSN O034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. l_x~uis University by thc Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year: $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail. add U.S. $5.00 per year: for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REviEw FO~ REt.~GOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVtEW ~'oa RE~ol~;totJS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Jan./Feb. 1989 Volume 48 Number I Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:vtEw r'oa REU~aOUS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Review for Religious Volume 48, 1989 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindeil Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors R~:vIEw FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book t~e te~I Index. A microfilm edition of R~:v~Ew FOR RELIGOUS is available from University~ Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyrighl© 1989 by R~vmw FOR RELiGiOUS. A major portion of each issue of REvmw FOR RgL~G~OUS is als~o regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visuallyl' im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 1 O010. PRISMS . Religious life today presents a varied landscape of images. Some would see the landscape more in the fading light of autumn colors or, perhaps, far more somberly in the gray bleakness of a barren wintertime. Others look out and observe a springtime of new growth, with tender fresh green shoots and small delicate blossoms just visible above the ground level. All the various ways we have of picturing religious life have some basis in reality. For there are various prisms through which we view all life, including religious life. Prisms are very important because they do provide a way for us to see, to highlight and to emphasize, to reject and to ignore. As others share their prisms of vision with us, we gain en-trance to worlds of different colors and new life. Of course, if we main-tain our vision only through our own prism, our world begins to take on a singleness of color and a frozen artificiality of life. REVIEW FOR REL~C~OUS, from its first January issue in 1942, has tried to provide various prisms through which we might view the whole worldscape which must be a part of a vibrant Christian spiritual life and so necessarily a part of religious life. As newly appointed editor of this journal, I intend the variety of insights into the consecrated lifeform, tra-ditionally called religious life, to remain an essential contribution of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. This contribution seems all the more necessary at our particular moment in the Church when often more time is spent in defining and establishing one's own position than in listening or learn-ing of another's. I do not want to wear out an image, but there is another important pointer for us in the kaleidos6ope. The prisms of a kaleidoscope only pro-duce their beauty because of their relationships, one to another. I find that the prisms through which we view life only present us with adequate truth, new life, and fresh ways ofacting if we maintain the relationship of various viewpoints. That is the great strength of the Church who pos-sesses various pictures of Jesus in her gospels, who allows differing phi-losophies and theologies to provide understanding to her faith, and who approves the charisms of vastly differing forms of religious life to be le-gitimate icons of Christ for all the Christian faithful and for the world. It is in the maintenance of relationship that we possess the criteria of le-gitimacy, continuity, and true creativity. 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 In our current issue, the usual variety of articles gives indication of the richness of interests which help form the context of religious life. In subsequent numbers I intend to take the opportunity to highlight one or other article because of the importance of its issue or the insight or un-derstanding it provides. Sometimes I would like to reflect more broadly about certain key concerns of religious life as it is being lived in our Churc,h and world today. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in this way will continue to provide prisms as well perspectives on the relationships of the many prisms that make up our religious lives. David L. Fleming, S.J. What Do You Want?m The Role of Desires in Prayer William A. Barry, S.J. A frequent contributor, Father Barry wrote "God's Love Is Not Utilitarian" for our issue of November/December 1987. His address is Jesuit Community: Boston Col-lege; Chestnut Hill, MA 02167. know: you're going to ask what I want. "As I was driving up to the retreat house, I thought of your perennial question: 'What do you want?' and here's what l~came up with." I have often noticed that peo-ple who see me for some time for spiritual direction or directed retreats say things like this. It even becomes a bit of humorous byplay, as though they want to beat me to the punch. Clearly, one of my favorite questions for directees is the one Jesus put to the two disciples who began to fol-low him: "What do you want?" (Jn 1:38). If directees pick up on this predilection and start asking themselves the question, then, I believe, a good deal of my work as spiritual director is done. If we know what we want in prayer, we are going to find our way. After a practical belief that God wants an intimate relationship with each one of us and that God is directly encountered in our experience, nothing is more important for the development of our relationship with God-~-for our prayer, in other words--than knowledge of what we want and of what God wants. In this article I want to discuss the role of desires in prayer. Anyone familiar with the Spiritual Exercises knows that among the preludes to every meditation or contemplation is: "I will ask God our Lord for what I want and desire." In the various stages or weeks of the Exercises, Ignatius states what the desire is in each case. For example, in the First Week I "ask for a growing and intense sorrow and tears for my sins," and in the Second Week I "ask .for an intimate knowledge 5 Review for Religious, January-February 1989 of our Lord, who has .become man for me, that I may love him more and follow him more closely." In an earlier article in the R~v~Ew, l tried to show that each of the desires of the Exercises is a desire for some par-ticular revelation by the Lord. ~ On the face of it, it looks as though Ignatius is saying: "Here is what you should desire at each stage of the Spiritual Exercises." One conclu-sion might be to take a person through the four Weeks and just put be-fore him or her what Ignatius gives as the desire. In fact, this has been the procedure in preached retreats, including the preached thirty-day re-treats we older Jesuits and other religious made in novitiate and tertian-ship. But what happened if, as a matter of fact, I did not really desire to know Jesus more intimately when the Second Week was presented to me. Suppose, for example, I was still too afraid of what he thinks of me. In most instan(es, I would guess, we just presumed that we had the de-sire if it was Second Week time. But I would contend that without the real desire we never got very intimate with Jesus. Indeed, I believe that "what we really desire" is diagnostic of the stage of the Exercises we are actually in. To demonstrate this thesis we need to look at the role of desires in any relationship. If you get a call from someone asking for a.meeting, is not your first question, at least to yourself, "What does she or he want?" In fact, many meetings between people come off badly because the individuals involved have mistaken ideas of what each other wants. For example, I want to become your friend, and you believe that I want help with home-work; you want to help me, but are not even thinking of a deeper friend-ship. At the end of the meeting both of us are going to be pretty frus-trated unless we talk about our different desires and come to some understanding. Often enough, too, relationships become frustrating be-cause of ambivalent or incompatible desires in one or both parties. For example, I want to get closer to you, but I am also afraid of you. Or I want a friendship with you (a happily married woman), but I also want to goto bed with you. Every intended encounter with another person is accompanied by a"desire or desires'. We are not always aware of our de-sires, but they are present, and they condition our behavior in the encoun-ter. Now suppose that I want to befriend you and you do not want my: friendship. Will my efforts :at befriending get me or you anywhere? Only to frustration and resentment, probably. But let us say that I persist in trying to do nice things for you. What will happen? You will probably get more and more irritated and thus less and less likely to become my Role of Desires in Prayer friend. And like many a "do-gooder" whose good deeds are rejected, I may eventually wash my hands of you and call you an ingrate who de-serves his fate. Friendship is possible only when the desires are mutual, when you freely desire my friendship and I freely desire yours. Friend-ship cannot be coerced. "But," someone may object, "we often do things that we don't want to do. Because of my friendship for you, for example, I will go to a movie I don't like." But what do you want? If it is because of friend-ship with me that you go to the movie, is not your deepest desire to please me or to be with me? The friendship is more important than the movie. I believe that the centrality of desire for the developing of a rela-tionship cannot be denied. Now let us look at the importance of desires for the relationship with the Lord. In the first chapter of John's gospel, the two disciples of John are intrigued by this Jesus whom John has just pointed out as the lamb of God. So they start following Jesus. When Jesus asks them what they want, they say, "Rabbi, where are you staying?" They do not yet have strong desires, it seems; curiosity seems to be the desire. Jesus does not disdain this desire. "Come," he replies, "and you will see." Unless we have some attraction toward God, some curiosity or hope or desire, we will not take the time to begin our side of the relationship. If I be-lieve in my heart and feelings that God is an ogre, ready to pounce on any infraction, then I may try to placate him, but I will never want to get close to him. And God, as it were, does handstands.to convince us that he really is benign, that he is, as Jesus asserted, Abba. The p.rofli-gate wonders of nature, our own creation and life, the words of Old and New Testaments, Jesus himself, and other loving, caring people in our lives--these are all signg of God's desire that we find him attractive and let him come close. But he cannot force himself on us, or will not. We must have some desire to get to know him better. Sebastian Moore af-firms that God's creative touch which desires us into being arouses in us a desire for "I know what," that is, a desire for the Mystery we call God.2 This experience (understood as the experience of one's creation and continued creation) can be seen as the affective principle and foun-dation for the development ofone's relationship with God. The desire for "I know what" is what makes' our hearts restless until they rest in God. Many people need help to recognize that they have such a desire. Be-cause of life's hurts they may not recognize any other desire but to be left alone, or not to be hurt any more. Telling such people that God is Review for Religious, January-February 1989 love has little or no effect. They may need help to admit to God that they are afraid of, him and desire to be less afraid. Indeed, they may need help to voice some of their anger at life's hurts which seem to them to have come from the Author of life. The fact that they have not completely turned away from religion indicates that they may still want something from God, even if only an acknowledgment that he knows what hap-pened to them in life. Like Job some may cry out: "Then know that God has wronged me and drawn his net around me. Though I c~'y, 'I've been wronged!' I get no response; though I call for help, there is no justice." Only after he has poured out his sorrows, seemingly, can he say: "I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth" (Jb ! 9:6-7.25). In other words, it may take a great deal of pas-toral care and patient spiritual direction for some people to come to the point where they can trust life and the Author of life enough to let into their consciousness the desire for "'I know what.'" Job's friends have tried to derail him from expressing his desires to God: In his misery he wants God to speak to him. He will not lie and say, as his friends insinuate,, that he deserves his calamities because of his sins. Hewill not accept the just-world hypothesis proposed by his friends according to which anyone's sufferings must be deserved. No, he knows~that he does not deserve the awful fate that has befallen him and desires to speak directly .to God and to hear God's answer. Often enough we Christians are like the friends of Job. To a mother who has just.lost her only child we might say, "God knows best." and thus make it difficult for her to voice her outrage at God and her need for God's own answer to this awful loss. Sometimes we feel that we have to de-fend God against the anger directed at him by people in pain. Yet the anger may be the most authentic way for a person to relate ~o God and to ex.press a desire to know God's response. Finally in chapters 38 through 41 God does answer Job out of the whirlwind. The response may not sound very comforting or apologetic to _us, but apparently Job is satisfied, for he says: "My ears had heard of you but.now, my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in ~du.s.t and ashes." Moreover, then God speaks to Job's friends, "I am angry with you and your two friends, because yQu have not spo-ken of me what is~right, as my servant Job has" (Jb 42:5-7). Whatever else God's speech from the whirlwind means, it certainly does not mean that Jg~bohas lost God's friendship by voicing so strongly his desire to have God answer him. Another biblical instance of an attempt to derail a desire directed to- Role of Desires in Prayer ward God comes in the first chapter of the First Book of Samuel. Han-nah, one of the two wives of Elkanah, is barren and miserable. She wants a son. Her husband, seeing her weeping and fasting, says to her, "Han-nah, why are you weeping? Why don't you eat? Why are you down-hearted? Don't I mean more to you than ten sons?" In other words, Elka-nah wants Hannah to forget her desire and be satisfied with what she has. In the story we do not hear Hannah's reply, but her actions tell us that she is not put off by Elkanah's entreaties. She goes to the temple and "in bitterness of soul., wept much and prayed to the Lord." Indeed, when accused of drunkenness by Eli, the priest, she says, "Not so, my lord, I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I was pouring out my soul to the Lord." Hannah knows what she wants and is not afraid to tell God over and over what it is (I S 1:8, 10, 15). Often we tell ourselves or are told to quell our desires, to look at all the good we already have. We can be made to feel guilty and ungrateful for desiring what we want. But if we do suppress our desires without be-ing satisfied that God has heard us, then, in effect, we pull back from honesty with God. The result for our relationship with God often is po-lite distance or cool civility. Perhaps God cannot or will not grant what we want, but for the sake of the continued development of the relation-ship we need to keep letting him know our real desires until we are sat-isfi~ d or have heard or felt some response. In 2 Cbrinthians Paul says, "There was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to tor-ment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' " Now Paul could stop making known his desire because now he knew God's answer. "Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. :For when I am weak, then I am strong" (2 Co 12:7-10). Convictions such as Paul's come not from theological or spiritual nos-trums, but from the experienc~ of growing transparency between a Paul and the Lord. Too often we use the hard-won wisdom of a Paul to short-circuit a similar transparency in our own relationship with the Lord. A woman may, for example, be experiencing the "dark night of the soul" and not like it at all. Her desire may be for it to be removed. She may be helped by the knowledge that others have experienced the same thing before her and been the better for it, but such knowledge does not have to satisfy her desire to be rid of the "dark night." A short circuit in the Review for Religious, January-February 1989 relationship might occur if she is told by her spiritual director or tells her-self to squelch her desire "because the experience is good for you." What she needs to experience is God's response, not a theorem of spiri-tual theology. She needs to know (really, not notionally) that God does want this darkness for the good of their relationship. Such real knowl-edge comes only through mutual transparency. Most of the healing miracles of the New Testament depend on the desire of the recipient for healing.The example of the blind beggar Bar-timaeus (Mk 10:46-52) stands out, but is not unusual. "When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, 'Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.' Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, 'Son of David, have mercy on me.' " Obviously Bartimaeus will not be hindered from expressing his desire by any num-ber of voices trying to quiet him. These "voices" can come from within us as well as from without, by the way. "Jesus won't have time for the likes of me; other people have more important problems; things aren't so bad." These interior voices may be expressing our ambivalence about being healed. Just as Bartimaeus had made a way of life out of his blindness, so too we may have made our own physical or psychological or sPiritual limitations a way of life and be afraid of what a future without them might be. One person on a retreat thought that he desired healing from a kind of dark-ness that seemed to rule his life. But then he heard the Lord ask, "Do you want me to heal you of this?" and he had to admit that he was not sure. Interestingly, he felt that God approved the honesty of his response. The inner voices may also express our fear of arousing strong desires for healing only to have them dashed. "Suppose I really want to be healed and I hear the answer Paul got? What a disappointment!''3 Desires are complex and often contradictory. However, once we have allowed the ambivalence and complexity of our desires to surface, we have some-thing else to ask the Lord about. In the Bartimaeus story Jesus calls him over and asks, "What do you want me to do for you?" Bartimaeus is quite clear and unambi-valent, "Rabbi, I want to see." "Go," says Jesus, "your faith has healed you." I have italicized Jesus' words. Without the faith of Barti-maeus, apparently, this miracle could not have occurred. The miracle re-quires a. partnership between Jesus' healing power and desire to heal and Bartimaeus' faith and desire to be healed. Indeed, Bartimaeus' desire is his faith in action. An example may help to illustrate this point. Once I was filled with Role of Desires in Prayer anger and self-pity about the turn a friendship had taken and thought that I was praying for healing. I was contemplating the story of the two blind men in Matthew 9:27-30. When Jesus asked them, "Do you believe that I am able to do this?" I knew immediately that I was not ready to give up my self-pity and anger. If I did desire healing, it was with the same "but not yet" desire with which Augustine at one time desired chastity. I did not have the "faith" found in the two blind men and in Barti-maeus, a faith that showed itself in unambivalent desire. Another exam-ple that shows how desire is faith in action is provided by the father of the boy with the evil spirit reported in Mark 9: 14-29. Instead of asking directly for a healing, the father said to Jesus, "But if you can do any-thing, take pity on us and help us." Because he did not believe in Jesus' power to heal, he could not desire the hea!ing directly. "If you can?" said Jesus. "Everything is possible for him who believes." To which the father replied, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief." In effect the man is saying, "Help me to desire healing." This last example brings us close to the hub of why desires are the raw material out of which relationships are made. In order for the heal-ing to occur, there must be a meshing of desires. Bartimaeus's desire for healing meets Jesus' desire to heal; without both desires there is no rela-tionship, at least no mutual relationship. This point is beautifully illus-trated in the story of the leper. "A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, 'If you are. willing, you can make me clean.' Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. 'I am willing,' he said. 'Be clean!' Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured" (Mk 1:40-42). Clearly desire meets desire. The kind of relationship Jesus desires is a mutual one', where desire meets desire. The need for a partnership of.desires becomes even clearer when we look at friendship. In John 15:15 Jesus says, "I have called you friends," and then goes on to indicate what that means from his side, "for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you." From his side the desire has been to be fully transparent, to com-municate to them all that he is. His desire meets their desire to know him as fully as possible. Of course, full mutuality of friendship means that they desire to be fully transparent before him and he desires to know them fully. Take away one side of these desires and there no longer is a mutual relationship. Of course, on the apostles' part (and on ours) the mere desire for mu-tual transparency does not carry it off. "Between the cup and the lip . " Our desires are ambivalent and complex; we are fearful crea- 12 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 tures, as well, and our fears get in the way of what we most deeply want. We need help and healing to grow toward mutual transparency with the Lord. But that help is available if we want it. If we notice, for example,, that we want to know Jesus better, but are afraid of the consequences, we can ask Jesus for help to overcome our fears. But again we notice that desire is the key to developing the relationship. The retreatant mentioned earlier who told God that he was not sure that he wanted healing of the darkness that ruled his life provides another example of the reciprocity of relationships. Later in the same day he be-came more sure that he wanted healing and asked the Lord to heal him. The Lord's response was perplexing; "I can't," he seemed to say. The retreatant was enraged at such a response when his own reluctance had been overcome, and he let God know in no uncertain terms. Yet still later in the day, out of the blue, as it were~ he heard the Lord say, "But we can." He knew immediately that the Lord meant that he could live more out of joy than sadness if he kept desiring the Lord's helpful presence rather 'than withdrawing into himself. "We can" meant partnership. At the beginning of this article, I stated that the real desires a person has are diagnostic of where the person is in terms of the four Weeks of the Exercises. Let me now return to that point. If retreatants do not have a real trust in God's loving care and providence, they will not desire that God reveal to them their sinfulness. Without an experienced-based be-lief in God's goodness and 16ve, without, in other words, what I have called earlier an affective principle and foundation, people are too fright-ened of God to be able to say and mean the last words of Psalm 139: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (23-24). If there is no such real desire, then the First Week of the Exercises is not on. And, it seems, at this point God's desire is not so much to reveal sinfulness as to convince the person that he is "Abba." Similarly, if a retreatant voices the desire to know Jesus in or-der love him more and to follow him more closely, yet in his prayer con-tinually identifies with those who need healing, perhaps his real desire is to be healed. The desire of the Second Week to know Jesus shows it-self in an interest in Jesus himself, his values, his emotions, his dreams, his apostolate. If the retreatant is not really interested in these matters, but continually focuses on his own needs and weaknesses, then the Sec-ond Week is not. really in progress. Jesus himself may at this time desire more to heal than to call to companionship. The difference between the First and Third Weeks also comes down to a difference in desire. In the Role of Desires in Prayer First Week I desire to know that Jesus forgives me (and us), that he died for my (and our) sins; the focus is on desiring to have a deep experience of how much Jesus loved us even though he knew how sinful we were. The desire of the Third Week is more to share the passion with Jesus in-sofar as this is possible. The focus is on what Jesus felt and suffered, and the desire is that he reveal that to me. Retreat directors, I believe, do their most important work when they help their directees to discover what they do in reality want. And so every retreat could begin with a con-templation of Jesus as he turns and says, "What do you want?" As re-treatants hear these words and let them penetrate their hearts, they will come to know better what they desire; in other words, they will know better who they are at this time in their relationship with the Lord. NOTES ~ "On Asking God to Reveal Himself in Retreat," REVIEW FOR REI.IOWOUS 37 (1978): 171-176; reprinted in David L. Fleming (ed.), Notes on the Spiritual Exercises of St. ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 1983), pp. 72-77. 2 Sebastian Moore, Let This Mind Be in You: The Quest for Identity Through Oedi-pus to Christ (Minneapolis: Winston-Seabury, 1985). 3 In another context I have discussed the courage of Bartimaeus. See "Surrender: Key To Wholeness," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 1987): 49-53. Perspectives on Parables and Prayer Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald's most recent contribution to our journal was "A Pathway to God" (May/June 1988). His address continues to be: St. Joseph's; Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lancashire; 0L14 5HP England. A sister said that her annual retreat was less than satisfying because "the priest, who shall be nameless, seemed to spend a fair bit of time telling us how good he was. I nearly offered him a trumpet." My response was and is to wish that he could come for my annual retreat, if only to exer-cise my sense of humor, even though, as I suspect, he may be speaking tongue in cheek. If not, so much the better! This is not meant to be flip-pant, for it seems to me in recent years that retreats and such like are becoming more technical, esoteric, and managed. So often there has to be a title with content specified, ra~nging from privately directed to Bet- .ter World and charismatic, by way of the Spiritual Exercises, Inigo, Sadhana, Progoff, Zen, Yoga, and so much else; it seems a prudent step, therefore, to first inquire before one enters. The seeker for silence and stillness, for example, is likely to find an all-action organized retreat not a little off-putting. But it all seems so terribly earnest, with little humor. A retreat is undeniably important when seen as a chance for inspira-tion, encouragement, and vision, particularly if the opportunity comes only once a year. It is important that the Gospel is preached; arguably, over the years, some vocations may have gone by default, even among those who die as religious, inasmuch as the Good News, as the New Tes-tament would understand it, might not have been heard. It is sometimes asking much of a preacher during a retreat to try and shore up a creaking building on the verge of collapse when the day-by-day support has not been given. But what seems to happen today is a grasping for technique 14 On Parables and Prayer which is expected to provide the key to the Gospel. The search for the philosopher's stone is endemic. This, of course, may not be quite fair to someone who senses per-haps that "Thou [God] hast made us for thyself and our hearts are rest-less till they rest in thee" (Confessions 1:1).~ But expectation is not God, nor is disappointment nor, indeed, sat-isfaction. To set one's all on technique or the competence of the preacher or the receptivity of the audience is to risk losing everything. Humor will spare us that and much else. The late John Main, O.S.B., told a friend, a Ramakrishnan monk, who had asked him how he proposed to teach meditation, "Sit down, sit erect, say the mantra, and that's it.''2 His friend said that such an approach would never work with Westerners. It is so simple they will not believe you. His advice was to deliberately com-plicate it, saying you have esoteric knowledge which you can give only after they have been coming for at least ten weeks. Only then can t.hey be initiated. Throw in the name John Cassian for good measure. That should attract them. This raises a smile, as it is so close to reality as some of us observe it. A Greek Orthodox priest spoke similarly of students coming to his monastery asking to be initiated into the Jesus Prayer. "Say it." "But. ? . No, just say it." As you advance you need guidance. It is all rather deflating, for someone seeking the heights, to be told to begin at the beginning. It will be recalled that Peter L. Berger identified humor as one of his "signals of transcendence," a marvelous way out from all which might tend to dominate and frighten us in a seemingly locked-in world. It is crucial for perspective. "Laughter can show that power is ultimately' an illusion because it canno( transcend the limits of the empirical world. Laughter can--and does every time it relativizes the seemingly rocklike necessities of this world.''3 There is such a thing as gallows humor. Laughter can be a link with the divine and all that is, not just all that is here. How could a preacher or a community ever take themselves wholly seriously again after hearing this little story about a retreat director? He impressed a community as an obviously saintly man. His reputation grew as the week progressed--until he asked for meat on Friday. No saint would ever do that! On such are reputations built and lost. Favorite humorous authors such as P. G. Wodehouse or James Thurber can provide permanent links to God and reality. Once in their friendly and familiar company, we find space to simply relax and enjoy ourselves. We smile at Walter Mitty as we see ourselves in him. Our prob- 16 / Review for Religious,'January-February 1989 lems lessen in the face of what some of the Wodehouse characters have to meet. A Sergeant Bilko on black-and-white television can do as much. Holding on to the relative like this may help us see that there is always another chance--and if the Go.spei is to be believed, the time is now. I am far from underplaying the need for a properly prepared retreat or suggesting that one can laugh off whatever happens. Nor would I dis-count the value of any particular technique or approach. I would but say that everything here is relative and humor can help us see it. Father Enomiya-Lassalle once gave a day's Zen retreat to forty Korean novices, whose reaction was that "Up to now we used to have a scriptural text in our daily meditation to meditate on. Today for the first time we have felt that to meditate is to pray."4 One is grateful;for the sisters' experi. ence, but even if the priest had neve.r set foot in Korea, the providence of God would not have neglected them. Everything then can help, but nothing is essential. When the retreat .disappoints, all need not be lost. This is particularly so for those who know how to interpret their life in terms of Scripture. A fairly comprehensive experience convinces me that few can. If there is one cause of failure both in preacher and audience, it lies in the inability to do that. I would be astonished if novices knew how to do it, and very surprised to find it in the great majority of their senior brothers and sisters. One simple test is to listen for the Gospel when religious speak of what is happening to them and how they see it. The Gospel is the common coin of the Catholic Church, but many use it gingerly like a foreign currency. They do not know its value, or what to do with it. Authentic Sources 'Religious have been authoritatively urged that to genuinely live their calling they should draw "on the authentic sources of Christian spiritu-ality., in the first place they should take the Sacred Scriptures in hand each day" (Perfectae Caritatis, no. 6). Here faith and life are meshed as one. What a Jewish commentator, W. G. Plaut, said of the Torah, the Christian can wholeheartedly endorse for Scripture in its.entirety. "We hold that the Torah is a record of Israel's striving to meet God and un-derstand his will. In centuries of search, of finding and forgetting, of in-spiration and desperation, God touched the soul of his people and the sparks of these meetings burn in the pages of the Torah.' ,5 The "sparks of these meetings" are found in the pages of Scripture, and once prop-erly kindled they produce an enduring, not fitful, flame. In each meet-ing with God, which really means now, the religious by profession would wish his or her mind to be at one with the will of God, faith and life re- On Parables and Prayer flecting the one reality: "That man is Your best servant who is not so much concerned to hear from You what he wills as to will what he hears from You"(Confessions 10:26). That distinction is crucial, and none knew better than Augustine how hard it was to really make the transi-tion. All of us are innately self-centered, easily deceived. It is, then, prac-tical to go to the authentic sources of the Church's tradition, where "in the centuries of search, of finding and forgetting. God touched the soul of his people." Even Augustine intuitively seems to have felt this in his search for God. "I absolutely refused to entrust the care of my sick soul to the philosophers, because they were without the saving name of Christ. and whatever lacked that name, no matter how learned and excellently written and true, could not win me wholly" (Confessions 5: 14; 3:4). So while the attraction for God in Christ and authenticity was there, Augustine could not at first bring himself to find this, least of all in Scripture. He tells us honestly why: "So I resolved to make some study of the Sacred Scriptures and find what kind of books they were . My conceit was repelled by their simplicity, and I had not the mind to penetrate into their depths" (Confessions 3:5). He lacked "sincerity, openness of mind and that fundamental rev-erence which is a willingness to be commanded" which one who went deeper than most saw as minimum requirements before the Bible can do anything for a person.6 It is so hard to change one's mind radically, and that lovely quality of fundamental reverence before Scripture Js rarely found, especially in those who like to do things their own way--which means all of us, but for the grace of God. ~ Augustine was later to envy the Church's faithful whom he had once patronized as ignorant and unlettered. Once he himself had discovered the treasure which they so nonchalantly possessed, how his perspective changed: "Of what great harm to Your little ones was their far slower intelligence: since they strayed not far from You and so could fledge their wings in safety in the nest of Your Church, and nourish the wings of char-ity with the food of solid faith?" (Confessions 4:16). In thus moving from inauthentic to authentic existence as he saw it, he now realized that his "superior" stance was only that of the man with the empty stomach who does not know where to find food, in his case, "the food of solid faith." The search, tension, and struggle are perhaps heroic and the stakes are life or death, but nothing is gained by patronizing those who sit down each day at a full table. He finally knocked at their door and asked to come in and share what they had. Again his perspective changed: "It is with utter certainty that I love You. You have stricken Review for Religious, January-February 1989 my heart with Your word and I have loved You" (Confessions 10:6). It is well known that an appar.ently chance reading of Romans 13 and 14 finally enabled Augustine to see. Now from within the heart of the Church he is convinced that "Thou [God] didn't touch me, and I have burned for thy peace" (Confessions 10:27). This is not notional knowl-edge enabling him to speak to his intellectual peers, but the real insight given him by the word of God from within the Church enabling him to see faith and life as one. The sparks of the earlier meetings with God are now aflame in re-sponse to his word. His life and perspective are transfigured. It is per-haps not without its underlying humor to see this gifted man, with many of the gli~tering prizes within his grasp, now held enthralled by the faith of his mother and her nurse (see Confessions 9:8). He had traveled for miles and years searching for what he had left at home. If religious had this innate feeling of fundamental reverence before Scripture, always subordinating themselves to the word, never dominat-ing it, they might more easily warm to the sparks of the meetings with God in their own daily life, and so find a flame which they could never leave. Even among the trumpet calls of a preacher's self-proclaimed ex-cellence, the word of God isthere if one knows how to listen, but it is unlikely to be heard unless one is habitually doing this. That perspec-tive is all-important. A practical illustration may perhaps make the point. A Treasure Found Parables form much of the Gospel, and few strike a cord with the religious vocation more than "the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field" (Mt 13:44). Taken from life, it is meant to make us think. What is being said here? We under-stand what is being said, of course, but we are meant to assimilate its implications. Its dynamic is as powerful as Christ is real. Insofar as I be-lieve that God in Christ is here speaking to me, I shall respond and so attempt to make the Gospel my own. In fact, that parable, for many, is little more than an interesting analogy. It is a helpful example, an exter-nal, verbal, and indeed visual aid, as useful in the junior school as in the religious community. Precisely because that may not unfairly be de-scribed as the most usual understanding of the parable, the true perspec-tive is little known, and so those words scarcely ever spark into a flame. If that is compared with the approach to parables of T. W. Manson in a fine book first published over fifty years ago and often reprinted, we will find ourselves in another world where the sparks of the meeting On Parables and Prayer between Christ and ourselves can really catch fire. He says: Jesus is not concerned to demonstrate that God exists but rather to show the nature of the God whose existence is common ground for him and his audience. His aim is not to make God an article of faith but the ob-ject of faith. We are often concerned to make God probable to man; .he set out to make God real to them. It is this fact which makes parable the inevitable form in which the teaching of Jesus on the nature and ways of God should be delivered . The true parable., is not an illus-tration to help one through a theological discussion. It belongs to the same order of things as altar and sacrifice and prayer, the prophetic vi-sion and the like . It is a way in which religious faith is attained, and, as far as it can be, transmitted from one person to another. It is not a crutch for limping intellects but a spur to religious insight. Its object is not to provide simple theological instruction but to produce living re-ligious faith.7 This is Scripture seen from the inside. How many readers of this page honestly think like that? If religious habitually think in those terms, it seems to me that they keep it well hidden. Could the average reader echo, from experience, all that Manson sees--parable, the obvious teach-ing medium to make God real . . . a mode of religious experience on the same plane as altar, sacrifice, prayer, and insight., a way in which faith is attained, not a crutch for limping intellects., producing living religious faith? The easiest way to answer such questions is to ask: What did we feel when the parable was first quoted--' 'the kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field."? If Manson was articulating what we have long known and felt, the resonances first produced by the par-able will still be there on the level of faith, not necessarily feeling. His comment would then simply buttress what we know to be true. Is our faith like a treasure found? Is this what has brought us to religious life? Is it a superb insight into reality? Is any sacrifice worthwhile to really possess it? What do we give in view of what we ~et? Can this treasure in any sense be found through the medium of an imperfect preacher? Do these words hold us up as they obviously show us up? One has to ask questions and link details together for the purposes of writing, but if the parable is properly assimilated to any degree, it is better to be silent and still and let the image absorb us and lead us where it will. We are then on the level of altar, sacrifice, prayer, and insight, willingly or even grudgingly, in view of the demands, letting ourselves be drawn into God through his Word. Perspectives that we perhaps know notionally are opened up to limitless horizons. Faith, not feeling, is seek- 20 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 ing to really understand. For years we have known the parable by heart. Have our hearts ever got the point and made it our own? Only silence and wonder stemming from fundamental reverence will do that. Fundamental Reverence For some years now virtually all religious communities have the for-mal daily prayer of the Church as their morning and evening prayer. In-variably, individuals or groups are given charge of liturgy and prayer, which generally means that coming to daily prayer one has to first find out what has been rearranged. Pages have to be marked, hymns noted, and alternative readings attended to. The pattern is rarely predictable. All this is done, one hears, because the community wants it, for the ordi-nary daily office is boring and repetitive. This constant adaptation is then seen as a practical attempt to engage the community in really meaning-ful prayer. In view of what has already been said, much of this suggests that those who foster or want this, apart from the risk of choosing only what-ever has personal appeal, may have no real feeling for Scripture, which may be why continual rearrangement is felt to be necessary to hold at-tention. This is, of course, the technique of the junior school, .where the children's attention span is limited and meaning has to be immediate. Yet if one receives~a line, phrase, sentence, or sentiment of Scripture on the level of altar, sacrifice, prayer, or insight, one just cannot keep chang-ing the focus without fragmenting the reality. Even to move, pick up a hymnbook, attend to alternative prayer or reading, or in general to be .never quite sure what is happening next, can be to break concentration. There may be some gain in alertness but, arguably, loss in continu-ity and assimilation. The Psalms and readings from the daily office have not yet been heard for the first time as Augustine, Manson, the Jewish commentator Plaut, and others would understand it, and will never be if one constantly changes the focus of attention in terms of relevance. One is all the time being brought up to the surface, never left long enough to go down to the depths. Ideally, the Psalms and readings could be so predictable that one almost knows them without turning the page. Only then do they have a chance of becoming part of ourselves so that we can truly listen, not just hear. Fundamental reverence would ask no less. But, however well intentioned, when one has to scan the board for the next item on .the agenda of prayer, or wait for the inspiration of a colleague, one is perhaps paying too high a price for spontaneity. The seemingly prosaic parable as a "spur to religious insight" must be in-vited to speak, not ordered to. On Parables and Prayer When Scripture is approached like this in the context of prayer, what one hears matters little. In time, perhaps less and less comes to mean more and more. It has not been and cannot be quite assimilated. Occa-sionally its relevance may be all too clear, as when, on the morning fol-lowing news of the horrific deaths of the seven astronauts in January 1986, one read: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, naked I shall return. The Lord gave, the Lord has taken back. Blessed be the name of the Lord. If we take happiness from God's hand, must we not take sorrow too?" (Jb 1:21, 2:10). Even if the words appear as dull as a school textbook, it does not matter. Nor does immediacy or surface mood. On the level of prayer, altar, sacrifice, and insight, it is one's faith responding to God that makes the connection. In time the words will peel away and matter less and less as one is held in faith, just as a smile or wave from a friend has a mean-ing out of all proportion to the action. It is a perspective on reality for which one is grateful. NOTES t The Confessions of St. Augustine, translated by F. J. Sheed (London: Sheed and Ward 1944). All references to The Confessions are from here. 2 John Main, O.S.B., "Christian Meditation," The Grail, 1978, p. 19. 3.Peter L. Berger, A Rumor of Angels (Penguin Books, 1971), p. 91. 4 The Tablet, London, January I 1, 1986, pp. 31-32. 5 The Torah, W. G. Plaut and B. J. Bamberger (New York: Union of American He-brew Congregation, 198 I), p. 1294. 6 C. H. Dodd, The Authority of the Bible [1929] (Fontana Paperback, 1962), p. 269. 7 T. W. Manson. The Teaching of Jesus (CUP, 1931; paperback, 1963), pp. 72-73. The Gift of Not Giving Jane Kammer C.S.Bo In our issue of January/February 1983, we published Sister Jane's "Three Times I Asked: Reflections on Weakness." She is a pastoral associate at St. Benedict Church in San Antonio. She may be addressed at 5107 Ozark; San Antonio, Texas 7820 I. So Jesus said to them, 'Well, then, pay to the Emperor what belongs to the Emperor and pay to God what belongs to God ' (Mt 22:21). "Jesus exclaimed, 'You ask me for a miracle? No! The only mir-acle you will be given is the miracle of the prophet Jonah' " (Mt 12:39). "As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had had the de-mons begged him, 'Let me go with you!' But Jesus would not let him"(Mk 5:18-19). A popular Christian saying and song is "God loves a cheerful giver." Giving has been exalted as a hallmark of Christianity, and so it is. Didn't our leader, Jesus, give his very life to show us God's great love? Giving has also been extolled as the virtue of the ideal Christian woman. For most of her life, my mother gave. She waited on my father; she gave of herself for her children. For all but the last few years of her life, I never heard her say no to anyone who asked a favor. But after she had grieved over my father's death, a change took place in my mother. At sixty-two she learned to drive a car; she went on vacations; she joined groups and clubs; and she began to say no to requests she really did not want to fulfill. She had discovered another dimension of giving. Giving is not always healthy for the giver or for the receiver. It is not true respect when I continually do for another what the person can do for him/herself. I am beginning to learn the gift of not giving. Teilhard de Chardin said, "Your essential duty and desire is to be 22 The Gift of Not Giving united with God. But in order to be united you must first of all be --be yourself as completely as possible. And so you must develop yourself and take possession of the world in order to be. Once this has been ac-complished, then is the time to think about renunciation; then is the time to accept diminishment for the sake of being in another. Such is the sole and twofold precept of complete Christian asceticism" (The Divine Mi-lieu [New York: Harper and Row, 1960], pp. 70-71). I believe that part of developing myself is learning, through practice, the gift of not giving to everyone who seems to ask. If I continually place my focus on others, then I cannot really give myself in love to them, for I do not have a self to give. It is my task to discover and develop the unique person God intends for me to be. I am codependent. To me that means I tend to place my center out-side of myself. I am inclined to seek affirmation and validation from some-one else. I feel safest when giving, not receiving. I am a people pleaser who fears rejection. Taking things personally and blaming myself for whatever seems less than perfect are aspects of my codependence. I have lived with many "shoulds" from the past which I have interiorized. In many ways my life repeats the story of my mother. But it is not too late to refocus my center within myself. I can learn to allow the true "me" to emerge from within. In time I can become a self-validating, self-affirming person whose peace is permanent and whose happiness does not depend on the mood of another. If I stay with myself, I can learn to love and accept myself as I am, even while want-ing to change some things about myself. I can give myself the gift of not giving up on the real, beautiful, and exciting "me." Moreover, I can learn to give the gift to others of responsibility for themselves. By re-fusing to absorb and carry the emotions of others, I will gift them with the faith that they are capable of living their own lives, making their own decisions, and caring for themselves. One morning I attended a meeting of four people who work in the same field. One of the workers continually griped and complained. Ne-gativity flowed out of her every word and facial expression. At the end of the session, I felt depressed, oppressed, and.burdened. I had absorbed into myself the flow of her negativity. But I can give myself the gift of not taking responsibility for other people's feelings, for others' pleasant or unpleasant feelings. I can maintain my joy, peace, and positive out-look if I am aware of my tendencies and if I give myself the gift of not giving in to codependence. I can learn to trust other people to run their own lives. I can deepen my trust in God. Review for Religious, January-February 1989 As codependent I also try to control others, though I may not be aware that I am doing so. I have not seen my friend for quite a while. I miss him or her. I may long with emotional intensity to see and be with my friend again. This is all right; this is me~ I fall into codependence, however, when I expect my friend to feel the same emotions that I do, the same strong loneliness. Because he/she feels differently does not mean that we are no longer friends. We are still connected by the bonds of love and the union of our spirits, but my friend is entitled to his/her own emotional swings. Occasionally we may both experience the same feelings, but that just happens; it cannot be programmed. By giving the gift of not giving my friend the task of living up to my expectations, I free him/her to be a unique self, and I free myself from the frustration of unmet expectations. As I grow, I learn the gift of n6t giving allegiance to everything that is said about,~me, even when it is said by significant others in my life. Opefiness to consider feedback is good and necessary for growth, but I can take the comments offered, test them sincerely against what I know of my true self, and decide to allow them to influence me or reject them as not fitting. More and more I stand free: receptive but able to make choices and.changes for myself. Each of us operates out of a specific personality type. I know that those "unacceptable" aspec.ts of myself, my "shadow," can become for me sources of undreamt growth and expansion. If I am introverted, recognition' of the shadow invites me to promote the development of more assertiveness, more sociability. By taking up the challenge of my "opposites," I give myself the gift of not giving in and becoming com-pletely immersed in my dominant qualities. I also give to others the gift of my expanded personality., my versatility to be reflective and quiet, and to be spontaneous and outgoing. I then realize that I have the potential to grow in all qualities of personality. Giving the gift of not giving can be risky. This is especially so if one is looked upon as a professional "helper." 1 am supposed to rescue peo-ple, or so it is often assumed. But the divine in me nudges me to grow and to foster my own "undependence" so that I do not need to rescue in order to feel worthy or worthwhile. I can then rejoice with the other in his/her efforts that lead to confidence, success, self-esteem, and de-victimization. When I encourage the other to look within her/himself for the indwell-ing God, the source of strength and goodness, then the other's success in dealing with difficulties is truly authentic and lasting. I become, not The Gift of Not Giving a rescuer or savior, but a real companion and friend. Recently a friend said to me, "I am upset over certain events that have taken place lately. I feel I can share with you about those situations because you are concerned and will give your support and prayers, but you won't take on my problems and become as upset as I am, and so be-come an added problem and burden to me. And you won't smother me with sympathy either." I consider those remarks a confirmation of the rightness of the gift of not giving and an uncovering of the true meaning of compassion. Jesus gave the gift of not giving. He refused to give direct answers to the Pharisees who were trying to trap him. He did not allow them to control him or his mission. Jesus did not perform miracles for those un-believers. He refused to compromise himself in order to please them. He did not even accept the adoration of the man who was cleansed from evil. Jesus will not allow us to follow him out of coercion or ignorahce. We must make up our own minds. He gave us the gift of not giving easy answers; he taught in parables. Jesus leaves us free and invites us to re- .sponsible living and loving. He refuses to take on our responsibility for ourselves and our world even though we often try to put on him th~ blame for our misfortunes and our mistakes. o Christ's peace was from within. He was "self-centered," anchored in the depths of his love springing from deep within. We too are chal-lenged to anchor in the gift of self that we find within, put there by God. One way to self is through the gift of not giving. Chapters and Structures William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan wrote "The Cross Reconsidered" for our issue of March/April ! 988. His address remains: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglianelli, 375; 00166 Roma, It-aly. Postconstitution chapters in most congregations take a very different form from those in which much labor was directed to working out, concept by concept, word by word, texts of constitutions to be submitted for ec-clesiastical approval. If there was perplexity in some institutes as to what a chapter would do when there were no more constitutions to write, the wonderment soon dissolved as attention was focused on the principal calls of the times: justice, peace, preferential option for the poor, sim-plification of lifestyle, apostolic spirituality, and so forth. Less legisla-tion emerged from the chapters; the accent was on setting immediate goals for administrations and planning steps for implementation of di-rection by the community: simple documents of challenge for reflection, inspiration, action. A variety of formulas, techniques, and approaches have been used to provoke a deep listening to the Spirit during sessions and to share the chapter's reflections and concerns with the larger con-gregation. Our times have seen much effort and creativity to make chap-ters meaningful experiences, and more will be needed in the future be-cause there is no magical formula that can cover every set of concerns or apply to all chapter circumstances. The uniqueness of each chapter will demand an approach suitable to its particularity: what works for one may very well not be beneficial to another. The experience of many congregations would advocate that it is not necessary for chapters to go over every element of the life of a congre-gation, as ordinarily done in the past, because there are so many other 26 Chapters and Structures participative structures in place between chapters. More effective results emerge when one topic is pursued in depth and the congregation's ef-forts are channeled in a particular direction. At the same time it is im-portant that a chapter and other community organs related to a chapter devote some attention to important points other than the principal topic. The 1983 code of Canon Law determines a number of issues to be treated in the particular law of religious congregations, and these fall under the responsibility of a general chapter. Most of these matters have been leg-islated in the constitutions; there is widespread reluctance to touch them after experiencing the difficulties of having constitutions approved, even when a group intellectually acknowledges the need for modifications. Oth-ers are taken up in the secondary book and should be reviewed by the chapter, even though its primary thrust is not concerned with the particu-lar law as such. There are ways of accomplishing this so as not to dis-tract from the major chapter consideration--for example, through the use of an ad hoc committee reviewing the legislation and making recommen-dations to the assembly. Without this review there is always the possi~ bility of a gap developing between living and the calls of the Spirit to move forward in mission. One of the most basic areas not to be overlooked is that of the struc-tures of government, where there are many questions deserving ongoing congideration even though structures are usually treated in the constitu-tions and considered of more permanent nature than rfiatters'of the sec-ondary book. Frequently the particular law of a congregation will state that structures are for the mission:, that the participation of the institute in the continuing mission of Jesus is the determining factor for structures of authority and government and the division of a congregation into life-promoting and mission-serving units. It .is far too easy to let the concept of structures for mission become a dead letter, since the mission is not staticbut constantly undergoing variables. Reflective vigilance is needed to take into account the changing factors of the mission of Jesus today and be at the service of the mission in fact and not just in word. This is especially true in international congregations with their divi-sions into provinces, regions, sectors, and so forth, but finds application also'in national and diocesan groups. Religious institutes are experienc-ing decreases in some of their internal divisions because of aging, loss of members, and other factors with the result that some previously sta-ble units no longer appear capable of maintaining the autonomy neces-saryto function as a unit in the same way. In not a few instances there is occurring a reversal of what have up to this point been geographical Review for Religious, January-February 1989 central and peripheral areas in congregations; then, too, there often is dis-persion of individuals and communities, along with new forms of com-munity. New foundations in third-world countries being made by differ-ent provinces of the same congregation point to a need for a networking among them to provide for sharing of experiences and insights, even if situations are not yet sufficiently clear to establish more permanent struc-tures. And surely, sufficient reflection on the units of a congregation will give rise to other situations in need of monitoring. Canon law and practice leaves the regulation of internal divisions to the individual institute and the authority therein determined, as long as the basic points of the approved constitutions are followed. These latter often allow for more flexibility than seems apparent at first glance; where there may be lacking the necessary suppleness, recourse should be had to the appropriate Church authority. A desire for survival may force the issue of restructuring in some congregations rather than a more overt con-cern that structures serve the mission; whatever be the motivation in fact, watchfulness is called for and the occasion of a chapter provides an op-portunity to exercise a healthy vigilance. Reflection on structures is not meant to pull religious in on them-selves, but outwards to furthering the work of Christ and promoting the qualitative dimension of ministry, life, and contribution to the local Church--lest there be a discrepancy between what we say of ourselves in principle and the reality of what we live. Connected with this reflec-tion is the issue of identity and charism, in the sense that the question at times arises whether to bolster the presence of the congregation in one part of the world through bringing new members from countries where vocations are still in abundance or simply to let the presence eventually fade out of existence. The tendency is to give an answer in terms of the works the religious are doing and whether the apostolates should be con-tinued; yet there is a deeper element than simply the works: Are the re-ligious bringing anything different in terms of witness to the local Church that others cannot effect? Not just a question of doing, but the reality of being: How are we in wha~ we do? No simple answers can be given to this; much soul-searching about the identity to which we witness is en-tailed. And if there is nothing .particular being shared with the local Church in terms of charism, it may be that the Spirit is saying that the congregation's presence is no longer gifting the local Christian commu-nity. A number of other matters concerning authority structures deserve periodic consideration, such as terms of office, interimsbetween chap- Chapters and Structures / 29 ters, and whether chapters are the only or best vehicles to accomplish the promotion of the mission and life. Many congregations have gone through a number of changes during the last two decades concerning the duration of offices because of concern with people being in positions too long, the need for freshness of vision in monitoring change and the cur-rents of the times, and the promotion of participation and development of individuals' gifts and talents. Sometimes in addressing one set of val-ues and making decisions in accord with them, experience shows that other values suffer and perhaps there is conflict in trying to integrate all the facets. Thus some congregations have gone full circle and returned to their original terms of office after various experiments; others have opted for a longer nonrenewable mandate; and still others have deter-mined upon several shorter terms. It would be idealistic to think that the workable formula reached for the present should not be open for recon-sideration if changing circumstances would indicate the need for another solution. Frequently religious Speak of the amount of energy that is expended in preparing chapters and implementing their decisions and orientations; also of the insufficiency of time between chapters for a congregation to realize the implications of chapter decisions before being moved on as a group to other subject matters. The frustrations sometimes expressed in this regard, in conjunction with fatigue over the number of meetings in which religious at times have to participate on different levels, raise the issue of whether there are other ways to accomplish the goals with-out the mechanism of chapters so regularly and all that is entailed therein, and still preserve and foster the principles of members working together toward policies of life and mission. Creativity of thought is needed here to safeguard the values intended by the structure of chapter and at the same time to prevent excessive use of energy that could be more directly channeled toward mission. Further, it might prove opportune from time to time to reflect on some of the points brought over into religious structures from corpora-tion models to assure the rights of individuals and promote participation. Some were needed to correct abuses or remedy problem areas at a par-ticular time. Are they still needed? Has something been lost from the com-munity- of-faith dimension while stressing organizational approaches? Where is the congregation now in the balance of values? Some benefi-cial insights could be gained by a congregation relative to structures for mission from treating these and similar questions. Not to be overlooked either would be the number of people involved :30 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 in community administration full time: too few? too many? enough for the needs of mission on the part of the congregation? How do we under-stand these needs now, taking into account the concept of community for mission and the need for good government and sufficiently broad-based decision making? The answer given at one time will apply only as long as circumstances remain basically the same: hence the need for periodic review. To look at some of these issues of structure from the viewpoint of service of the mission and the community's growth for mission may ap-pe. ar as an invitation to furiher instability in religious life; perhaps it would involve furthe~r unsettling, but in terms--hopefully--of the unset-tling aspe~zts of Jesus' message and mission a~d of the mentaJity of foun-ders and foundresses. Their primary passion, in following Jesus,,was to reveal the Father's love and assist others to experience it in their lives; institutionalization of religious life and structures as such generally arose after the founders' times. Stability of life is an important aspect of relig-ious life; it is expressed in the Church's definitions of consecrated life (see can. 573,1). However, stability must not be equated with no change, especially when the mission that gives meaning to the consecrated life demands change. Stability demands serious prayerful reflection on the whole issue of change, keeping our vision focused 'on the person of Je-sus arid his mission today. And while we concentrate our ,energies and attention on the great sweeping calls of the Spirit of Jesus as reiterated through the Church, we must also keep alert to whether internal struc-tures are enabling for response to mission. Meta-Expectations and the General Chapter J. Roberta Rivello, S.S.J. Sister J. Roberta Rivello is a Sister of Saint Joseph of Philadelphia. She is currently Dean of Graduate Studies Division at Chestnut Hill College in Philadelphia; prior to that she was research analyst for the Department of Army where she worked for the past seven years. This paper is about the difference between expectations reasonably held and "meta-expectations," and what happens when "meta-expecta-tions" are part of the agenda for a general chapter in religious institutes. Having to deal with these meta-expectations in the general chapter may be a part of the reason why so many religious institutes find themselves, in the years immediately following a general chapter, in the midst of a good deal of frustration, anger, even~outright rejection of some of the mandates of the general chapter. I believe this occurs because many of the expectatio.ns explicitly ex-pressed by the members of an institute are clearly not the substantive con-tent for the general chapter to consider. When a religious institute re-quests from the membership proposals, recommendations, and sugges-tions prior to a general chapter, it may be of some benefit to explain at the same time what is reasonable for the members to expect from the chap-ter, and to provide some criteria for arriving at the proper methods for expressing those expectations to the chapter delegates. Part of this edu-cation could include guidance into what constitutes "reasonable expec-tations," and how to differentiate between these and what I term "meta-expectations." I use the term rneta-expectations as a phenomenological description for the kinds of aspirations and expectations which are not structurally 31 Review for Religious, January-February 1989 . and substantively significant to the issues ~hich h~ive been identified as chapter material. Persons who express such "meta-expectations" through their proposals and letters certainly do not perceive them as meta-expectations-- or they would not submit them. I believe it is the job of the prechapter committees to communicate to those who submit such pro-posals, even personally if possible, why it is that their expectations are not reasonable for the chapter to include in its portfolio of proposals. Do-ing this would eliminate some of the postchapter frustration, even if in-itially the explanation is quite difficult to accept. A general chapter may, for example, need to deal with spirituality and prayer as they relate to the charism of the institute, and proceeds to invite proposals to that effect. When the proposals are reviewed, how-ever, it is found that some members have expressed a variety of expec-tations which~ are, not substantive.ly identifiable with the charism and spiri-tuality of the institute. If these .expectations were to become content for the~delegates' consideration during the chapter, they could seriously im-pair the effectiveness of chapter deliberations and could ultimately erode the charis~n itself of the institute. The "mandates" of a general chapter are simply directives with en-forcement p.ower. These mandates deal with matters which have an im~ pact on the~members' sPiritual development, community life, prayer, ap-ostolic works, or other important areas which are integral to the life of a religious.The precise direction which the general chapter should take is undergirded by the constitutions and charism of the institute. Whatever else, a chapter accomplishes, it ought to accomplish the ful-fillment of its members' first-order reasonable expectations. These rea-sonably held expectations, in turn, ought to flow from the institute's spiri-tuality and charism. Ageneral ch.apter,, however, need not attend with great detail to ful-filling second-order expectations since these do not necessarily consti-tute the ne'cessary and sufficient matter for a general chapter to entertain. It is these latter which I term meta-expectations. Meta-expectations are something which a newly elected leadership might need: to consider sometime soon after entering into their term of office. But religious institutes which choose to concern themselves with such non-reasonable expectations during the general.chapter frequently find that there are.significantly sharp differences between the way the dele-gates perceive of the proposals presented to them and the way the pro-posing me,.mbers perceive the resulting chapter mandates. They will ac-cept the mandates accord.ing to what their expectations were prior to gen- Meta-Expectations and the Chapter eral chapter. Even in the Church today there is a growing sense that religious in-stitutes are experiencing very serious differences in the way the mem-bership perceives the outc0me of general chapters. This is partially due to the way general chapters often conduct their prechapter preparations and the way that Chapters of Affairs are conducted. These differences in perception and interpretation area result of the failure to differentiate between the reasonable expectations and the meta-expectations of the in-stitute's membership. This failure further fragments the members and their acceptance of the mandates and authority of the chapter. In this paper I will try to clarify what are reasonable expectations for a general chapter, and to show the difference between reasonable expec-tations and meta-expectations and how they influence the general chap-ter, Conflict between these two kinds of expectations can exist whenever expectations of any kind are elicited and aroused. For example, if one is invited to dinner, it is all right to expect something to eat but it is not reasonable to expect filet of beefi That is a meta-expectation, and while it may not be wrong to hold such a meta-expectation, it certainly is not reasonable; nor need the host meet it. Neither should the one holding such a meta-expectation be disappointed or offended if the host does not ~erve filet! More relevant to our discussion are the expectations religious have about their general chapters especially when preparations for them evoke strong expectations among the members as well as among the delegates. As I gtated above, two. of the things which ought to be simultane-ously evolving in the months prior to a chapter are how to identify and clarify the proper content for consideration and how to prepare both dele-gates and members to be able to differentiate between meta-expectations and reasonable expectations. It is reasonable for members of a religious institute to e£pect its gen-eral chapter to ~nandate programs for renewal, for spiritual development, for apostoli6 works, and for good community life. But it is not.reason-able to (xpect it to'decide how the membership ought to rest and relax, even thou'gti such matters are very important and time arid thou~ht~ought to be given to their consideration. It is as unreasonable for the member-ship to expect this to be considered as it would 'be for the general chap-ter to consider it---even if some of the delegates want it added to the agenda. The business of a general chapter is to redesign the future of the institute as it finds itself called to reveal Christ to the world in its con-temporary situation. This is its first-order work and is the only claim any- Review for Religious, January-February 1989 one can reasonably make on a general chapter. If the institute is true to its charism, the general chapter will succeed in fulfilling reasonable ex-pectations, and a newly elected leadership, or a reelected leadership, will be confirmed and authorized in working together to find ways and means to carry out what the chapter has mandated. In doing so, general administration should act in such a way that it further clarifies the difference between reasonable expectations and meta-expectations. Acting thus after the chapter assures continuity as well as flexibility in the institute's lived-out charism, since it preserves the in-tegrity of the institute's constitutions even while assuring versatility in their application to the reality that presents itself here and now.~ After all, it is in the real world that the institute exists, and its contemporary situation should be the focus of the institute's energies if it is to survive. If, however, the general chapter takes into consideration everything sub-mitted to it, the real essence of the institute's life becomes obscured. In addition, every proposal presented to the chapter contains its own par-ticular character and language which force the delegates to unpack its meaning before addressing the issue it contains. By sifting out the recta-expectations from the agenda, the delegates will be freed to concentrate on the constitutions and charism of the institute and to interpret the con-temporary situation in light of the Gospels for the world the institute is called to serve. There is good evidence that the bishops did this in Vatican II docu-ments. The document Lumen Gentium shows that they were aware of their .responsibility to separate out the recta-expectations from the rea-sonable ones.2 Their emphasis was on common-good considerations. Common-good considerations evolve from whatever the community has in common, not from things incidental to it. I believe this is why the docu-ments are clearly and straightforwardly parousial (expectant), so fitting for a Church in labor to reveal Christ to the world. For religious insti-tutes, the emphasis should also be on the common good, that is, on what the institute holds in common and what it shares as an institute in labor to reveal Christ to the world. For religious, this is found in their consti-tutions and in the charism of its founding. The document Perfectae Cari-tatis expresses the expectation of the Church about what it believes re-ligious institutes are called to be: Religious should carefully consider that through them, to believers and nonbelievers alike, the Church truly wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ. Through them Christ should be shown con-templating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multi- Meta-Expectations and the Chapter / 35 tude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent him.3 Rather than stating the expectations of religious, the document states what it is the Church expects of the religious institutes. This sense of expectation is not alien to either the Old or New Tes-taments. Scriptures retell the sacred history of a people filled with ex-pectation for a Messiah. For some, that expectation was misplaced or mis-focused so that when the Messiah came, when the expectation was ful-filled, they did not recognize it. Likewise, the message of Christ was clearly a statement of what it was he expected of us as we await his sec-ond coming. It is this same degree of expectation which is the ground-ing for religious institutes coming into being in the first place, that is, to reveal Christ to others even as we await (expect) his second coming. At this time some institutes are preparing for their chapter. A great deal of preparation will take place, I am sure. Included in that prepara-tion should be some education on what constitutes reasonable expecta-tions for the membership to have and how to express those expectations in proposals, letters, and prechapter committee work. I believe that some of the meta-expectations expressed prior tochapter in proposals to the general chapter are the result of excessive reliance on congregational and personal self-analyses which, in turn, rely too heavily on current statis-tics, social analysis, and popular trends. This tendency is best described as the historicist versus the historical view of events.4 Both views are needed but if they are not balanced, the religious institutes are robbed of either their historical tradition and dynamism (charism) or of insights derived from knowledge of the cultural and intellectual shifts occurring in society. Needless to say, I believe the omission of either is wrong. In fact, one of the tasks of the general chapter is to ensure that the bal-ance between both perspectives is maintained. Furthermore, an advan-tage to holding the Chapter of Election after the Chapter of Affairs is to ensure that the elected leadership is committed to carrying out the man-date of the general chapter and to the mission of the institute visible in its charism. The business of meta-expectations derailing expectations occurs daily in society--in the system of justice, in education, in government and other natural systems. It ought to occur less frequently in religious institutes if they are open to the Spirit unfolding in them. One other example of the distinction between meta-expectations and Review for Religious, January-February 1989 expectations might clarify what I am saying. In a religious institute mem-bers may experience some dissatisfaction with the missioning process, and all kinds of proposals expressing both meta-expectations and expec-tations emerge. The dissatisfaction is with the process and not with the people doing the job. Instead of focusing on the dissatisfaction, the dele-gates begin, as a result of some meta-expectations, to design new roles and functions for the persons charged with missioning when they ought to have seriously looked at the process and analyzed the cause of dis-content. The process is in need of change; failure to redesign it changes nothing, and future chapters will find themselves still dealing with dis-content about the process. Sometimes an issue is finally resolved but only after it has resurfaced in several chapters. One cannot be sure, however, that the ultimate resolution flows from reasonable expectations or not. What is certain is that if it is the result of meta-expectation something of the institute's charism is diminished. A model for expectations showing the process involved in discern-ment of the kinds of things which happen as a result of responses pro-vided in proposals follows: -Perception: dissatisfaction with missioning process -Response: a change is needed in the process In this model the response is a ~reasonable expectation for members to have. The model also lends itself to scrutiny by the delegates who will then test various recommendations made in the context of chapter to see how they relate to the charism and spirituality of the institute. In doing this, no special interest or meta~expectation will drive the final outcome. After chapter, the information and proposals not used in chapter can be given additional study and perhaps even be used for input into some ad hoc trial period of experimentation. A second model based on meta-expectations follows: -Perception: dissatiSfaction with missioning process -Response: establishment of new roles for persons charged with process The response in this case is the fulfillment of a meta-expectation since it begins to deal with m'any different aspects of the dissatisfaction. The issue is clearly defined as dissatisfaction with the process; then the charism and spirituality of the institute should dictate the solution. The response in this model is expressive of one of the many meta-expecta-tions expressed, all of which are not substantively, relative to the insti-tute's charism and spirituality. This model is provided as example; it is not a definitive model. Religious institutes can substitute ever so many examples which violate their own particular charism. This is not to say Meta-Expectations and the Chapter / 37 that it is wrong to have the vision to redesign the institute or to follow "paths unknown." What this paper is addressing is the growing aware-ness among religious that somewhere things are going amiss and worse, that it is becoming increasingly more difficult for the institute to recog-nize its own charism and spirituality at work in the Church for which it is called to reveal Christ and through him the Father. In this brief essay I have tried to make a distinction between the jus-tifiable and reasonable expectations one might have for a general chap-ter and the meta-expectations one might have, which are not reasonable for a general chapter to consider in its deliberations, no matter how at-tractive or relevant those meta-expectations appear. NOTES ~ Bernard J.F. Lonergan, S.J., Insight: A Study of Human Understanding. London. 1958. passim. 2 Walter M. Abbot, S.J. (ed.), The Documents of Vatican !!, p. 225, n. 26. All ref-erences to the Documents are taken from here. 3 Documents, p. 77, n. 46. 4 For an insightful account of the distinction between historicism and historicalism, read Bernard J.F. Lonergan, S.J., Method In Theology: London, 1971. pp. 323- 326, 239, 318. See also the works of Wilhelm Dilthey and Ernest Troeltsch; Maurice Mandelbaum. Enc. Phil., 4:22-25. Thomas Merton and His Own Cistercian Tradition M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Basil's most recent article in this journal was "Simple Contemplative Prayer" (March/April 1987). He now resides at Assumption Abbey; Rt. 5, Box 193; Ava, Missouri 65608. I presume most of the readers of this essay are fairly familiar with the life and development of Thomas Merton. In the last pages of the Secular Jour-nal, Merton sums up his spiritual journey towards the Church and mon-astery: From Gilson's Spirit of Medieval Philosophy I learned a healthy respect for Catholicism. Then Ends andMeans taught me to respect mysticism. Maritain's Art and Scholasticism was another important influence, and Blake's poetry. Perhaps also Evelyn Underhill's Mysticism, though I read precious little of it. I was fascinated by the Jesuit sermons in Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man! What horrified him, began to appeal to me. It seemed to me quite sane. Finally G. F. Lahey's Life of Gerard Manley Hopkins; I was reading about Hopkins's conver-sion when 1 dropped the book and ran out of the house to look for Fa-ther Ford. ~ It is not surprising that this author would be influenced primarily by authors and their books. In a preface to A Thomas Merton Reader, published in 1962, six years before his tragic death, Merton summed up his monastic years: I would say that my life at Gethsemani has fallen roughly into four pe-riods. First, the novitiate. I was a novice in 1942-1944. Those were hard years, before the days when radiators were much in favor during the win-ter, when the hours of communal prayer were much longer, when the 38 Merton and Cistercian Tradition fasts were much stricter. It was a period of training, and a happy, aus-tere one; during which 1 wrote little. The best Gethsemani poems be-long to this period. At the end of the novitiate my health broke down and I was ap-pointed to write and do translations of French books and articles. I was also studying philosophy and theology in preparation for ordination to the priesthood. This second period extends from 1944, my first vows, to ordination in 1949. At first the writing was very bad . In 1946 I wrote Seven Storey Mountain, in 1947 Seeds of Contemplation, and in 1948 The Waters of Siloe. After ordination, in 1949, there was an-other brief period of poor health and nervous exhaustion. I was almost incapable of writing for at least a year and a half after I became a priest. Then after a rest period in the hospital, I wrote The Ascent to Truth and Bread in the Wilderness (both about 1951) and finished The Sign of Jonas, 1952. In 1951 1 was appointed the Master of Scholastics, that is, of the young monks studying for ordination in the monastery. This en-tailed a fair amount of work preparing conferences and classes. Books like The Living Bread and particularly No Man is an Island and The Si-lent Life belong to the end of this period. Finally, a fourth stage. In 1955 I was made Master of the Choir Nov-ices. This is an office involving considerable work and responsibility. No writing of any account was done in ! 956, but after that it was possi-ble to produce short books or collections of essays, and some poetry. Disputed Questions, The Wisdom of the Desert, The Behavior of Titans, and New Seeds of Contemplation belong to this last period. So too do more recent essays on nuclear war, on Chinese thought, on liturgy, and on solitude.2 It is notable that in all of this literary reminiscing, Merton does not mention specifically any Cistercian Father or any of the work he did con-cerning them. Actually he does not seem to have had any contact with the Cistercian tradition prior to entering the monastery. But, in fact, once he entered the Cistercian life he so immersed himself in it that it became the very matrix of his life and .thinking. In his early days as he was as-similating Cistercian spirituality, Merton wrote about the Cistercian Fa-thers explicitly. When he served the community as Master of Scholastics and as Novice Master, he spoke about them constantly; his notes and his taped conferences are full of them. Later they cropped up spontaneously in his writings, the paradigm against which he evaluated what he was then absorbing. One of his favorites would find his place in the final talk Merton gave a few hours before his sudden death.3 When Merton first entered the monastery, there was, as he said in the epilogue of The Spirit of, Simplicity,4 little of the Cistercian Fathers 40 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 available in English.5 But this did not hinder him. He not only found no problem in reading the Latin texts in Migne, he strongly believed that translations always lacked something of the origin~il.6 How carefully he studied these texts is witnessed not only by his frequent use of quota-tions from them in his early writings and the talks he gave his scholas-tics and novices, but also by the .und.erlinings and annotations found in the voit]mes of the Fathers which he used. One of Thomas Merton's-- or Frater Louis, as he was then called-- earliest assignments was to translate a.report from the CisterCian Gen-eral Chapter, entitled The Spirit of Simplicity,7 and provide a suitable in-troduction for it. He'not only did that but gathered a complementary selection of texts from St. Bernard on interior simplicity in its fullness. He translated these and commented on them, turning the report into a full book. This part of the The Spirit of Simplicity has recently been published in a volume in the Cistercian Studies Series with two other early Bernar-dine essays of Merton.8 He wrote a five-part study of Bernard and St. John of the Cross for Collectanea which expresses his concern of that period when he was writing The Ascent to Truth .9 We can detect in these essays a certain struggle Merton was experiencing in trying to respond both to the rich, fully human patristic heritage Bernard offered him and the exciting, stimulating, scholastic approach which John of the Cross was able to integrate with a high mystical theology. It wbuld be Ber-nard's approach that would win him over. In the prologue to The Sign of Jonas he would write: "I found in writing The Ascent to Truth that technical language, though it is univer-sal and certain and accepted by theologians, .does not reach the average man and does not convey what is more personal and most vital in relig-ious experience. Since my focus is not upon dogmas as such, but only on their repercussions in the life of a soul in which they begin to find concrete realization, I may be pardoned for using my own words to talk about my own soul." ~0 The third piece in the Cistercian Studies volume witnesses to another early concern of Merton--the superiority of thecontemplative life. In an extensive essay which was first published serially in ~Collectanea and later appeared as a volume in French,~ Merton is at pains to establish that the apostolic life, though it may have a fullness beyond the purely contemplative life, as Bernard ,acknow!edges,.has true:value only inso-far as it flows out of contemplation. And thus the contemplative life is in itself more important or of greater dignity. Merton's~argumentation Merton and Cistercian Tradition here is not all that easy to follow, nor that cogent. Later he himself would comment negatively about such preoccupation.~2 The eighth centenary of Bernard's death led to a spate of publishing on the saint. Merton translated the papal encyclical produced for the oc-casion and wrote an introduction to it. ~3 He was invited to introduce other works. His preface to Bernard de Clairvaux, a collection of studies pub-lished by the Historical Commission of his order and edited by its chair-man, Father Jean-de-la-Croix Bouton, shows the increasing influence of Bernard on Merton.~4 The piece is filled with scriptural texts and allu-sions. We might.say it is a very Bernardine piece about Bernard. In line with his earlier concentration, Merton sees that Bernard added to the Cis-tercian reform "an emphatic call to contemplative union with God." ~5 At the same time Merton begins to reveal a more integral understanding of Bernard as a "man of his times . . . a many-sided saint." 16 This is further in evidence in the next piece. His .introduction to Bruno Scott James's translation of the letters of St. Bernard, he considered important. ~7 At his behest it was included in A Thomas Merton Reader in the section ".Mentors and Doctrines."~8 It revealed Thomas Merton's growth in his appreciation for Bernard in line with his own personal growth. Merton had had his experience on the cor-ner of Maple and Fourth. He now beheld all with a greater integrity. He had a new .appreciation for Bernard the man. H~e appreciated the letters because they so well brought out the human dimension of the great saint: They [the letters] show the man as he is, and because he is so much a man, readers who forget that saints must be men may sometimes be in-clined to question his saintliness . Bernard is sent to instruct us how human a saint must be to forge'out the will of God in the heat of the affairs of men . He had the humility to be himself in the thick of a silly argument. He had the good grace to admit that a saint might pos-sibly have to bicker with another saint . The angry Bernard, the pas-sionate Bernard . . . the merciful Bernard, the gentle long-suffering monk who could be as tender as a mother . 19 As Merton noted in his brief literary biography quoted above, liturgy came more to the fore in a later period of his life. In Seasons of Cele-bration he published one of his most beautiful pieces on St. Bernard: "The Sacrament of Advent in the Spirituality of St. Bernard.' ,20 It is undoubtedly St. Bernard, the "Theologian of the Cistercian Life" (as Merton's friend Jean Leclercq would name him), who received the most attention from Merton. Besides Bernard's prominence as the mas-ter of the Cistercian school, there would be the influence of Gilson. As 42 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 we have seen above, Gilson was one of the first to open the way for Mer-ton towards Catholicism. Merton's respect for him never diminished, and his masterful work The Mystical Theology of Saint BerndrdZ~ was most carefully studied and wholly accepted by Merton.22 But Merton read all the significant Cistercian Fathers, and spoke and wrote on them as occa-sion offered. The "Bernard of the North," Bernard's disciple, the abbot of Rievaulx, Aelred, received special attenti.on. Merton has an extensive un-published piece on him, which looks like it was on the way to becoming a book. We can hope it will. soon appear in Cistercian Studies. It is an important piece, and I shall return to it later in this esgay. As one of his first projects for Cistercian Publications, Merton wrote an introduction for Father Amfd6e Hallier's Monastic Theology of Aelred of Rievaulx. Here again we see the later Merton rejecting earlier attitudes: Let us be quite clear the monastic theology of Aelred is not a partisan "theology of monasticism." It is not an apologia for .the life of the monk, and not a kind of gnostic system organized to prove some sup-posed superiority of "the contemplative life," urging a flight to ineffa-ble convulsions,z3 He saw that "the Christian life is, for Aelred, simply the full flow-ering of freedom and consent in the perfection of friendship. Friendship with other human beings is an epiphany of friendship with God." Mer-ton notes that "Not so long ago, some of Aelred's books were kept un-der lock and key in Trappist libraries. ,,24 Merton never wrote a particular essay on Bernard's closest friend, William of Saint Thierry, but he considered him "a profound and origi-nal theologian and a contemplative in his own right."25 He dedicated one of his first books to him, "one of the saints and mystical theologians of the Golden Age," and quoted him extensively in the foreword.26 In regard to the fourth of the evangelists of Citeaux, Guerric of Igny, we have the opportunity to get a sampling of Merton's more ordinary treat-ment of the Cistercian Fathers in his talks to the juniors at Gethsemani. Sister Bernard Martin of Chimay transcribed two of Merton's talks which had been taped and published the transcription in Cistercian Studies in 1972.27 For Merton, "Guerric was really deep and very spiritual and very mystical."28 And as Merton.opens him up for his novices, he is also very much alive, very practical and down to earth. It is in these intimate talks that we best see how the Cistercian Fathers reverberated in the mind and heart of this twentieth-century Cistercian Father. Merton and Cistercian Tradition There is a more formal treatment of Guerric of Igny and his liturgi-cal sermons in Merton's introduction to the Gethsemani Christmas book for 1959: Sister Rose of Lima's translation of Guerric's Christmas ser-mons. 29 Other Cistercian Fathers turn up in Merton's published writings. There are poems about St, Alberic3° and St. Malachy.3! When Cister-cian Studies began publishing Sister Penelope's translation of the ser-mons of Isaac of Stella, Merton provided an introduction for this "not the least interesting of the Cistercian writers."32 He found him a "more independent thinker and less subject to the dominant influence of Saint Bernard''33, whose writings reminded him "at times of Eckhart in their tone."34 Merton's spirit resonated with this abbot who withdrew from a large and important Cistercian abbey to an erernus, a poor and lonely island foundation. Merton provided an introduction for another Cistercian Father, one of his favorites, Adam of Perseigne.35 Earlier he had written about Adam's theory of monastic formation in an essay that was published in Charles Dumont's French translation.36 Adam was for Merton something of a mentor in his duties as novice master, and his admiration for the ab-bot of Perseigne remained till the end. In his final talk at Bangkok he brings him forth to illustrate a basic monastic theory.37 When the earlier essay was further developed, Merton gave it a new title, one that wit-nessed to his own development: The Feast of Freedom. Adam, Aelred, all the great Cistercian Fathers led Merton in the same direction. But Merton did not have an unbounded admiration for all the twelfth-century Cistercian writers, Here is an example, Gamier of Langres: Gamier was not deep and not spiritual and not mystical. He was a literal-minded person with a lot of learning. As a matter of fact he is quite in-teresting, On the liturgy, he has a lot of little statements about what they did at the time and what they thought they were doing and why they did it. But these are just little statements of historical fact. Today Gamier would be a scientific-minded critic. "But a scientific-minded critic in the Middle Ages is just about zero, because he has nothing to work on . He's finished, he's dated, he's way back. He is no more modern than 'a twelfth-century concept of the universe.38 He goes so far as to say: "His work., is not in English at all, and if it never gets translated into English that won't be too soon.' ,39 This does, though, give, us another indication as to the extent to which Merton worked his way through the pages of Migne4° and ex-plored all the published writings of the early Cistercian Fathers. 44 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 Above I have mentioned the monograph that Merton was working on entitled "Saint Aelred of Rievaulx." This is a significant piece of work. In placing Aelred in context Merton gives a fine synopsis of Cis-tercian history and especially literary history from the foundation in 1098 up till the death of Becket (+ 1170). But I think one of the valuable ele-ments of this work is the insight that Merton has as a later Cistercian writer into these early Cisterclan writers. Indeed, as I read the pertinent section I ask.myself if this is not a candid insight into Merton himself as a Cistercian writer: ¯ . . the rich and elegant vitality of Cistercian prose--most of which is sheer poetry--betrays an overflow 0( literary productivity which did not even need to strive for its effects: it achieved them, as it were, sponta-neously. It seemed to be second nature to St. Bernard, William of St. Thierry, Adam of Perseigne, Guerric of lgny, to write with consummate beauty prose full of sound and color and charm, There were two natural explanations for this. The first is that the prolific Cistercian writers of the Golden Age were men who had already been thoroughly steeped in the secular literary .movements of the time before they entered the clois-ter. All of them had rich experience of the current of humanism that flow-ered through the twelfth-century renaissance . There is a second explanation for the richness and exuberance of theo-logical prose in twelfth-century monasteries of Citeaux. If contact with classical humanism had stimulated a certain intellectual vitality in these clerics, it hlso generated a conflict in their souls. The refined natural ex-citements produced by philosophical speculation, by art, poetry, music, by the companionship of restless sensitive and intellectual friends merely unsettled their souls. Far from finding peace and satisfaction in all these things, they found war. The only answer to the problem was to make a clean break with everything that stimulated this spiritual uneasiness, to withdraw from the centers in which it was fomented, and get away somewhere, discover some point of vantage from which they could see the whole difficulty in its proper perspective. This vantage point, of course, was not only the cloister, since Ovid and Tully had already be-come .firmly established' there, but the desert--the terra invia et inaquosa in which the Cistercian labored and suffered and prayed . The tension generated by the conflict between secular humanism and the Christian humanism, which seeks the fulfillment of human nature through ascetic renunciation and mystical union with God, was one 6f the proximate causes of the powerful mystical writing of the Cistercians. , However, once these two natural factors have been considered, we must recognize other and far more decisive influences, belonging to a higher order . It is the relish and savor that only experience can Merton and Cistercian Tradition give, that communicates to the writings of the twelfth-century Cister-cians all the vitality and vividness and impassioned sincerity which are peculiarly their own . The White Monks speak with accents of a more personal and more lyrical conviction that everywhere betrays the influence of an intimate and mystical experience . It is the personal, experiential character of Cistercian mysticism that gives the prose of the White Monks its vivid freshness . Since the theology of the Cistercians was so intimately persona! and experiential, their exposition of it was bound to take a psychological di-rection. All that they wrote was directed by their keen awareness of the presence and action of God in their souls. This was their all-absorbing interest.4~ Many scholars have noted that Merton's writings show a rather su-perficial knowledge of the Eastern religions. But when I traveled in the East and spoke with the spiritual masters there who had come into con-tact with Merton on his last journey, they said they had never met any-one from the West who had so fully understood their ways. I think the same might be said of Merton and the Cistercian Fathers. Certainly many scholars know more about the Fathers and the early history of the Cis-tercian order. But few, if any, so fully understand their spirit as does this twentieth-century Cistercian Father. Moreover, no one has been able to express so fully and clearly, and in a way that communicates to our times, what these Fathers have to say to our times and to the renewal of the Cistercian order. Cistercians cannot but profit from choosing Tho-mas Merton, their F.ather Louis, for their lectio, from spending time with him and letting him lead them into a deeper, fuller understanding and appreciation of their Cistercian Fathers. NOTES ~ Thomas Merton, The Secular Journal ofThomas Merton (New York: Farrar, Straus & Cudahy, 1959), pp. 268f. 2 A Thomas Merton Reader, ed. by Thomas McDonnell (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1962), pp. viiif. 3 Adam of Perseigne. See The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions, 1973), p. 333. 4 The Spirit of Simplicity: Characteristic of the Cistercian Order (Trappist, Ken-tucky: Abbey of Gethsemani, 1948). 5 Ibid., p. 137. Merton played an important role in remedying this situation in the part he played in the founding of Cistercian Publications, which has now published more than forty volumes of the Cistercian Fathers in English. 6 Reader, p. 317. 46/Review for Religious, January-February 1989 7 See note 4 above. 8 Thomas Merton on Saint Bernard, Cistercian Studies Series (hereafter CS), vol. 9 (Kalamazoo, Michigan: Cistercian Publications, 1980), pp. 103-157. 9 New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1951. ~0 Thomas Merton, The Sign of Jonas (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1953), pp. 8f. ~ Marthe, Marie, et Lazare (Bruges: Desclee de Brouwer, 1956). ~2 In the preface to A Thomas Merton Reader he would write: ". it would be a still greater misapprehension to say I am simply trying to prove that the contempla-tive life is 'better than the active life,' . Not only am I not trying to prove these propositions, but stated in this bald and unqualified manner, I do not even hold them. It is true that fifteen years ago I was able to get excited about such theses, but I have come to see that controversy about speculative matters of this sort is not only a waste of time but is seriously misleading. We are all too prone to believe in our own pro-grams and to follow the echo of our own slogans into a realm of illusion and unreal-ity"( p, viii). 13 The Last of the Fathers (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1954). ~4 Bernard of Clairvaux (Paris: Editions Alsatia, 1953). It was later published in The Tablet and Cross and Crown and in Disputed Questions (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1960),.pp. 260-276, under the title "St. Bernard, Monk and Apostle." ~5 Disputed Questions, p. 263. 16 Ibid., p. 262. ~7 Bruno Scott James, St. Bernard of Clairvaux Seen Through his Selected Letters (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1953), pp. v-viii. ~8 Reader, pp. 315-319. 19 Reader, pp. 316f. zo Seasons of Celebration (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1965), pp. 61-87. z~ New York: Sheed and Ward, 1955. 22 There is a copy of Gilson's work in the Merton Center at Columbi~ University with Merton's underlining and marginalia which indicate the care with which he stud-ied this book. 23 Am~d~e Hallier, The Monastic Theology ofAelred ofRievaulx, tr. by Colum-ban Heaney, CS 2 (Spencer, Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1969), p. viii. 2,~ Ibid., pp. xif. 25 "Saint Aelred of Rievaulx," MSS, p. 20. ??26ft2The Spirit of Simplicity, pp. vf. 27 Thomas Merton, "Guerric of lgny's Easter Sermons" in Cistercian Studies, vol. 7 (1972), pp. 85-95. 28 Ibid., p. 85. 29 The Christmas Sermons of Blessed Guerric of lgny, tr. by Sr. Rose of Lima (Trap-pist, Kentucky: Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani, 1959), pp. 1-25. 30 "Saint Alberic" in Selected Poems of Thomas Merton (New York~ New Direc-tions, 1959), pp. 44f. 3~ Ibid., pp. 75ff. This poem is reproduced in the Reader, pp. 177f. 32 Louis Merton, "Isaac of Stella: An Introduction to Selections from his Sermons," in Cistercian Studies, vol. 2 (1967), p. 243. 33 Ibid. 3,~ Ibid., p. 244. 35 "The Feast of Freedom: Monastic Formation according to Adam of Perseigne," Merton and Cistercian Tradition in The Letters of Adam ofPerseigne, vol. 1, tr. by Grace Perigo, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 21 (Kalamazoo, Michigan: Cistercian Publications, 1976), pp. 3-48. 36 "La formation monastique selon Adam de Perseigne," in Collectanea Ordinis Cisterciensium Reformatorum, vol. 19 (1957), pp. 1-17. 37 The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions, 1973), p. 333. 38 "Guerric . . . Easter Sermons," pp. 85f. 39 Ibid. 40 He read Garnier in Patrologia Latina, vol. 205. 4~ MSS. pp. 10-17. Liturgy of the Hours: A Canticle for Canticles Three canticles encompass all our praise: Three sacred songs of trusting love and hope. At dawn there breaks upon us like the sun, Old Zechariah's paean to God's work. At dusk, like Vesper star, young Mary sings Magnificat for mercy to us all. Then at day's end in darkness gently fall Old Simeon's thankful words, as clear and bright As Compline candles glowing in the dark To mark the end of day, perhaps of life: To let God's servants go in peace to him. Three son~s that with their jeweled antiphons, Like winking diamonds, daily bring delight As we lift hearts at dawn, at dusk, at night. Maryanna Childs, O.P. Ohio Dominican College 1818 Sunbury Road Columbus, Ohio 43219 The Challenge of Church Teachings: How Do I Respond? Lucy Blyskal, C.S.J. Sister Lucy Blyskal, C.S.J., has a doctorate in canon law and is a diocesan judge on the Tribunal of the diocese of Rockville Centre, New York. Her article is the fruit of her canon law dissertation on the Church's teaching authority. Her address is Tri-bunal of the Diocese of Rockville Centre; 50 North Park Avenue; Rockville Centre, New York 11570. In view of the increasing number of official Church pronouncements on many debated issues, how can today's religious keep informed and re-flect intelligently on such statements? How does one discern and listen to the Spirit of the teaching Church and the Spirit within oneself? The purpose of this article, comprised of two parts, is to help us to respond appropriately to papal and episcopal documents. The first sec-tion discusses three main aspects of the Church's teaching authority: (I) the truths of the faith as given to the ff.hgle.Church; (2) the concept of infallible Church teaching; (3) the noninfallible teaching and the response owed to it by the faithful. The second part offers the reader a practical method for analyzing doctrinal statements, and then applies this method to evaluate three somewhat controversial doctlments issued recently. Hopefully, this information will lead to a deepened knowledge and love of the faith which ought to transform our hearts and impel us to serve justice and peace in the world. Part I: Church Teaching Authority Revelation as Given to the Whole Church To set the correct context for'a discussion of teaching authority, it is important to keep in mind that the Church is fundamentally a commu- 48 Challenge of Church Teachings / 49 nity of faith and witness which worships God in Jesus Christ and bears witness to the Church's divinely given message throughout the world. Because Christ handed over the deposit of revelation to the whole Church, it is in the possession of the whole body of Spirit-empowered people, not just the hierarchy. While Scripture calls Peter the "rock" on which the Church was to be built, it never refers to him or the twelve apostles as "the Church." Thus, to speak of "the Church" as having done something when in fact an office or official is the source is theo-logic. ally incorrect; one should name the office involved, for example, "the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith stated . "~ In its doctrine on infallibility, Vatican I carefully and explicitlyaf-firmed that the deposit of revelation is with the whole Church. The text of Vatican I names the Church as the primary subject of infallibility in stating that: "the Roman Pontiff. enjoys the infallibility with which the divine Redeemer wanted his'Church to be endowed in defining doc-trine concerning faith or morals."2 Vatican II in The Constitution on the Church (article 12) clearly reitera.ted that, thanks to a supernatural sense of faith which characterizes the People of God, "the body of faithful as a whole, anointed as they are by the Holy One (see Jn 2:20, 27) can-not err in matters of belief." Since all believers possess, can perceive, and have insights into the Christian revelation, what is the specific task and charism of the hierar-chy? By Christ's will, the disciples were commissioned: (I) to be his "witnesses. to the end of the earth" (Ac !:8); (2) to "go and teach all nations" (Mt 28:19) his full revelation, under the guidance of his Spirit. (1) The chief vocation of the disciples and their successors is "to witness" to the integrity and truth of the evangelical doctrine. This call to witness does not necessarily include the capacity to have and to ar-ticulate the deepest insights into the meaning of the mysteries of our faith,3 which is a special gift. It is noteworthy that this gift has produced some of the most significant developments in the understanding of the faith not in members of the hierarchy but in such persons as Thomas Aqui-nas, honored as the common teacher of the Church, and Teresa of Av-ila, named doctor of the spiritual life. (2) Because of Christ's command to his disciples to "teach all na-tions," the Christian community from its earliest days has also recog-nized the importance of an authoritative teaching body to maintain inner unity as the gospel was being spread. By Christ's will, this teaching authority, termed the "magisterium," belongs to the hierarchy who are 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1989 sacramentally empowered and assisted by the Spirit to speak in the name of.Jesus Christ. Therefore, Catholics are to trust what pope and bishops teach, not because of their personal learning or stated reasons for their teaching, but precisely because of the spiritual authority of the office they occupy.4 Infallible Teaching Authority Vatican Council I first defined the infallible teaching authority of the Church as an article of faith in promulgating the dogmatic constitution Pastor Aeternus in 1870.5 While it reaffirmed this dogma of Vatican I, Vatican Council II integrated it into the doctrine on the collegiality of the bishops united with the pope and the doctrine of the Church as the People of God (Constitution on the Church, articles 12, 18, 25). Article 25 of this constitution6 states that when the pope or the episcopal col-lege (pope and bishops together) solemnly,proclaim matters of faith and morals, they are protected by the Spirit of Christ from misleading the peo-ple by teaching erroneous doctrine; hence their teaching is infallible. Several conditions need to be fulfilled for a teaching to be consid-ered infallible. First, the doctrine must deal with a matter of faith or mor-als. Second, it must be proclaimed by a duly authorized Church teacher as binding on the universal Church. Finally, it must be proclaimed "to be definitively held" by all Catholics as a dogma of faith. This infalli-ble teaching authority has been exercised only rarely since its cautious and circumscribed definition by Vatican Council I. More recently, the Constitution of the Church and the 1983 Code of Canon Law7 describe three ways in which this infallible magisterium can be exercised. (I) The pope may issue a solemn or ex cathedra pronouncement. Ac-cording to Vatican Council I, popes possess and can articulate the infal-libility with which the Divine Redeemer endowed his Church for defini-tive decisions in matters of faith and morals. For example, Pope Pius XII proclaimed the dogma of the Assumption by the bull Mun~ficentissimus issued November i, 1950. (2) The episcopal college may act solemnly in ecumenical councils. In ecumenical councils, the episcopal college, assembled in one place, acquires a special clarity and efficacy. Here the corporate episcopate can act in a solemn manner to define an article of faith; for example, Vati-can Council I promulgated the doctrine of infallibility in Pastor Aeter-nus in 1870. (3) The episcopal college may exercise its "ordinary and universal magisterium." In their ordinary and universal magisterium, the same bish- Challenge of Church Teachings / 51 ops, without coming together in one assembly, and with each remaining at his post, can definitively set forth some doctrine for the absolute ac-ceptance oLthe entire Church. In practice it is not always easy to ascer-tain whether or not the magisterium in a given case is exercising infalli-bility through this "ordinary" manner. It has been suggested that a pos-sible example of this level of Church doctrine is the common and con-stant teaching of pope and bishops throughout the world on the moral evil of abortion. How is an infallible doctrine to be received by the faithful? Vatican II's Constitution on the Church and the 1983 Code hold that infallible teaching must be accepted with obsequium fidei, translated as the 'as-sent of faith." This assent of faith is to be absolute and unconditional because it involves divine authority which utteriy excludes the possibil-ity of error. Consequently, the obstinate denial of truths proclaimed as infallible would constitute heresy. However, various Church documents warn the faithful to receive a teaching as infallible only when it has been definitively proclaimed as such. Vatican II, for example, declared that its statements on faith or morals should be seen as binding on the Church only when the council expressly declared them as such.8 Like'vise, the new Code cautions that no doctrine is understood to~ be infallibly defined "unless this is manifestly demonstrated. ,,9 From this review of the meaning of infallible teaching, it is obvious that the great majority of doctrinal statements issued on a day-to-day ba-sis do not fit into this category. Rather, most documents seem to belong to the nondefinitive level of authority--which makes the accurate under-standing of this noninfallible teaching crucially important today. Noninfallible Church Teaching The noninfallible magisterium is the term used to refer to the follow-ing exercises of the Church's teaching office: (l) the pronouncements of the pope when he is not teaching ex cathedra; (2) the declarations of an office of the Roman See with the special approval of the doctrine by the pope as his own; (3) the declarations of a curial office with routine but not special papal approval; (4) the promulgation of a doctrine by the pope toget, l~er with the college of bishops in council; (5) the teachings of an individual bishop; (6) the pronouncements of a grouping of bishops in an episcopal conference or a particular council. In order to respond appropriately to the numerous doctrinal state-ments issued by these official teachers, one needs to understand: (I) the nature of noninfallible teaching; (2) gradations among nondefinitive teach-ings; (3) inherent difficulties. Review for Religious, January-February 1989 ( I ) The Nature of Noninfallible Teaching. Three basic principles un-derlie this exploration of the noninfallible magisterium. (a) The concepts of noninfallible Church teaching and the response owed to it are evolving concerns whose complete meanings are not yet in the Church's consciousness. ~0 Recall that the definition of infallible teaching authority (1870) took place only within the last one hundred twenty years of the Church's two thousand year existence, (b) The issues of nondefinitive Church teaching and the response owed to it are being examined and applied by a Church that is itself an evolving reality as a community and an institution. ~ (c) With the spread and evolution of the Church, there has been a concomitant growth and development of doctrine, for example, "a growth in the understanding of the realities and the words which have been handed down" (Constitution on Divine Revelation, article 8). Vati-can II reiterated in its Decree on Ecumenism that: "If there are deficien-cies in the formulation of doctrine . these should be appropriately rectified at the proper moment" (article 6). More recently, the Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith for the first time officially acknowl-edged that even the Church's expression of a truth of revelation at a par-ticular age may need to b~ reformulated in a subsequent era. ~2 These of-ficial statements on the growth possible in dogmatic teaching can be ap-plied afortiori to the noninfailible level of teaching. ,Basically, it is difficult to categorize the precise nature of nondefini-tire teaching. According to Orsy, noninfallible teaching is composed of two types of doctrine in an organic unity: some changeable h~uman thoughts (often of a particular school), and incorrupt expressions of the deposit of revelation. For this reason, simplistic statements such as "non-infallible statements by ecclesiastical authorities are binding," or, "dis-sent from noninfallibly stated doctrine should be always permissible" do not recognize .the complex content of the body of noninfallible beliefs. Orsy also makes the important observation that a particular document may, and. usually does, contain a mixture of infallible and noninfallible teachings without any indication of the different levels involved. ~3 In 1967, the German bishops referred to another significant aspect of noninfallible teaching authority when they pointed out that this level of magisterium "can, and on occasion actually does fall into error." 14 Francis Sullivan, a theologian, comments that it seems impossible to fault the reasoning of the German bishops: if the nondefinitive teaching of the magisterium is not infallible, it can be erroneous and can stand in need of correction. ~5 Here the basic principle of the development of Challenge of Church Teachings doctrine comes into play. Indeed the Church has corrected or reversed its stance on a number of occasions. 16 For example, the Decree on Ecu-menism of Vatican II clearly departed from previous papal teaching re-garding the Church's negative stance on relationships with non-Catholic Christians. Another obvious example is the final lifting of the condemna-tions imposed in the celebrated "Galileo case." ~7 In their pastoral letter, the German bishops point out that the Church has always been aware of the possibility of error. They conclude, how-ever, that in order to maintain the true and ultimate substance of faith the Church officials must, even at the risk of error in points of detail, "give expression to doctrinal directives which have a certain degree of binding force." (2) Gradation Among Noninfallible Documents. The weight or gra-dation of importance of a noninfallible statement can be indicated either by the person or body issuing the teaching, or the type of literary genre of the document itself that is utilized to promulgate the teaching. (a) As noted earlier, noninfallible statements can be issued by the pope or the bishops. Since the formal authority o.f the pope and the epis-copal college exceeds that of the bishops acting individually or con-jointly, there are obviously gradations among the various teachings prom-ulgated. (b) The second criterion for ascertaining the weight of a particular ~ondefinitive pronouncement is its literary genre, or, "the nature of the document" that is utilized (Constitution on the Church, article 25). Ap-ostolic constitutions, for example, are considered the most solemn form of papal documents. Then come papal acts in the form of letters in two categories, encyclical epistles and encyclical letters, the latter form be-ing less solemn than the former. The ordinary magisterium of the pope is also found in doctrinal dec-larations of the curia, for example, of the Congregations for Doctrine and for Seminari

Issue 36.2 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Lores Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW r:oR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELI6IOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Mlarch 1977 Volume 36 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REvxEw Fort R~L~to~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REvmw Foa R~L~mvs; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. We Journey Through Tears Ann .Marie ' Krupski, C.S.J. ," Sister Ann Marie resides at 152 Third Street; Troy, NY 12180. I would not exchar~ge th, e,, laughter of my heart for'the fortunes of the'' mult=tudes; nor would I be Content with convert=ng my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter, Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me /he secret of life and 'its mystery. . ' . . . Teals with which I join the.broken~hearted.1 Unlike Kahil Gibran, we feel more comfortable when we convert our tears tb'~"laugh~er, "dompanionship, or any available distraction. As the psalmist reflects:"Who'of us wants a pillow drenche~l with tears, eyes wasted by grief, or sustenance by the bread of tears? But really, we are not comfort-bound people; tears ar~'-an essential ingredientoin our lives and when we hesitate to convert the.m, we find that they .convert us' by purification, revelation, and consolation. ~ ~'~ Tears That Purify o To~let tears purify us, w.~"must go to andpass through Gethsemane; the thought of such sojburhing repels us. For in Gethsemane there is no periphery; outer edges are only for those who run away or fall asleep. Those who st, ruggl.e to stay mdst encounter the razor edge of unrecognized and unacknowledged realities, and to particiPate .in. these realities we must go alone. Carlo Carretto reflects: "Because not even Jesus can tal~e our place in the leap of Faith; it is up to us. It is like dying. It is up to us, and no 1Kahil Gibran: Tears and Laughter, Bantam Books, Inc., New York, 1974, p. 1. 1 69 170 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 one is able to take our place.'"-' At this time, the loneliness of pain and the pain of loneliness are so intense that our finite rootedness is shaken by fear, great distress, and sorrow to the point of death (Mk 14:34). With tremen-dous hesitation, we stumble into the crucible of inner anguish. Here, the fire of severe distress touches every fiber of our being, invades each corner pre-viously hidden from our own insights, and temporarily immobilizes us; al-though immobilization does not cripple or paralyze us. Like St. Paul, "We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed" (2 Co 4:8). Intense inner anguish teaches us to walk with suffering, and suffering stretches us beyond the narrowness of our own horizons. However, one of the haunting and terrifying qualities about Gethsemane is that even if we choose not to go there, it will .come to us. When the flood of pain drenches our soul, Gethsemane penetrate~ us, and suffering becomes unavoidable. In the agonizing abyss, we learn how to die, and how to live our dying. And the surprise of dying catches us off guard. For while we expect to walk to our death daily, we do not often foresee walking with our death. In fact, at first we may not recognize that this death-in-life is life-giv-ing as was Gethsemane, with its seemingly negative features: --Being devoid of the human support of friends: "He came back and found them sleeping . Had you not the strength to keep awake one hour?" (Mk 14:37). "My friends and my companions shrink from my wounds, even the dear-est of them keep their distance." (Ps 38:11 ). --Being stripped of the expectation that the God of the impossible will remove the struggle: "Everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me" (Mk 14:36). "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Ps 22:1). --Being vested with the willingness to do what we really prefer not doing: "Let it be as you, not I, would have it" (Mk 14:36). "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 4:34). --We go "right into the dark cloud where God is" (Ex 20:21~ and 24:18). As soon as we enter the cloud, the cloud enters us, and we go the way of apparent absurdity. In the mist, we ponder: is darkness really light; aban-donment ieally presence; diminishment, growth? It is so difficult to realize that God is here; our anguish is too great, the cloud too thick. So. often we feel: "bowed down, bent double, overcome . . . numbed and crushed . . no relief from , . . pains" (Ps 38:5-17). With the poet of Lamentations we cry out: He has forced me to dwell in darkness . He has walled me in; I c~nnot escape; he has made my chains heavy; . . . My eyes dissolve in torrents of tears. My eyes weep ceaselessly, without relief (Lm 3:6-8 and 48-50). "The God Who Comes, Orbis Books, New York, 1976, p. 40. We 1ourney Through Tears / 171 " Our spirits.,sink and our hearts groan as we brood on our anguish. We go about in mourning all day long, sometimes even moaning aloud. Reluc-tantly we try to pierce the darkness which has penetrated us; yes, :reluctantly because often we are afraid to be pierced by the light. It becomes easier to cry, more consoling to be blinded .by tears than blinded by the cloud's thick-ness. And desolation's touch has no light grasp in this agony. It is as though "there is no one to comfort me" (Lm 1:21). Any of our attempts to look for comfort become futile when the embrace of annihilation is so relentless. Gradually, the surface-rooted tree within us topples and the.broken fragility which ,remains is divested of any strength, we could have once called our own. We shiver in the exposure of our weakness and murmur the only yes that comes, the only yes that is genuine, the yes we have cried in the tears that purify. With Jesus crucified we. cry out, in a voice not loud but humbled (Lk 23:46), "into your hands I commit my spirit" (Ps 31:5). It is-this meager but genuine "yes" which is, for us, the beginning of the fulfillment of Malachi's prophecy: '"Yahweh will purify the sons [and daughters] of Levi so that they' will make an offering to Yahweh as it should be made" (Mal 3:3). So that our offering can be made as it should, we are led along the path of,constant conversion and unlimited surrender. Along this path, we begin to cry the tears that reveal the secret of life and its mystery. Tears That Reveal To let tears purify us, we went to Gethsemane.To let tears reveal mys-tery, we will go to the mount of Transfiguration. It is, here that we learn the beauty of.light and the significance of shadow, the breadth of revelation and the depth of.mystery. When we read the account of the Transfiguration, we respond favorably to the light and dazzlingly white parts. Although like Peter, we may feel somewhat awkward or ,even frightened by such intensity; we, too, want to echo his words: "It is wonderful for us to be here; so let us make three tents, one for you, one for'Moses, and one for Elijah" (Mk 9:5). How we long to stay 'with Jesus, "light of the world., and light of life" (Jn 8: 12). Immersed in radiance, we often skim over the next part of Mark's nar-rative: "And a cloud came covering them in shadow . . ." (Mk 9:7). This shadow, so significant in the whole event, helps us realize that transfiguration does not just occur in luminous light. For at .the exact moment of revela-tion Peter, James, and John are covered in shadow. And it is precisely at this moment that a voice comes from the cloud to proclaim: "This is my son" (Mk 9:8). From the cloud,'.the voice announces the revelation. In the shadow, the apostles receive it. Cloud and shadow are so vital in revelation. As~we weep the tears that reveal, we might reflect on two moments in our lives that integrate light and, shadow, revelation and mystery: the mo-ments of transcendence and of trust. (Later, each of us will be able to con- 172 / Review [or Religious; l/olume 36, 1,977/2 sider many aspects other than those mentioned here:~) However, it must be clear that~no one can share an experience: of.the transcendent~ Only, the Holy Spirit c.an do that. Sacred Scripture helps us in this'realization. .Through the prophet Ezekiel, God .tells us: "I shall put my spirit in,you" (Ezk 36:27). Jesus has revealed that ~the Holy Spirit will teach us every, thing (Jn 14:26). And St. ~Paul reflects: ~ . ¯ .'. the Spirit~ reaches the depthS of' everything, even the depths of God.'Afte( all the depths ~0fa person can only be known'by onE's Spiri't~ not by any other ¯ person, and in the same way the' depths oLGod can only~ be~known by the Spirit of God . we have received the ;Spirit that comes from God, to teach~ usto understand the gifts that he has given us (1 Co 2:10.12)¯ .~ So, filled with the Spirit, consider a moment of transcendence, This could be h peak experience in prayer, nature, music, art~ or literature. It' is ~that time when, ra'vished by beaoty and saturated ~by the ineffable, a depth of awe'brings us to ~h~°~"~bsolute Beyond" present within~us. Caressed by the Inexhaustible, 'we too ~soOn become exhausted by the_qnexpressible; penetration of the Real i~ to~ painful and touch of the Intangible too'unreal. Like Peter, we want to make a tent~make the moment last. Yet, we hesi-tate to remain in this light. For while on eai'th, we human folk do explode when filled with infinity. Once touched by trafiscendency; however, we are almost immediately covered in shadow; our peak experiences will not be timebound. Nothing can or ever will completely capture that in which we pa'rticil~ate. :A photo-graph, won't do it nor will a symphony or a poem. Mo0nbeams will always be for dancing not holding, and the Rockies, will stand majestically right where they are. Reality and ~ur expressions of it cannot co-exist with' the same degree of impact. In our finest moments of creation .(tent making) we experience endless~limitations. Our concretizations.become forever'unsatis-fying. And when we get caught in the trap of thinking that ,any of our achievements determine our worth, then indeed, does the sand of a hollow victory slip through our fingers. As, we.seek what cannot be realized, no con-tainer confine~ the tears, no expression captures the actuality and no,dis-traction disturbs the stillness.of silence~ We wlio experience such, limits long for the 'Unlimited and tears become the release-rdief. ~ ~ '~ :~' Although God "has given us the wisdom to understand' fully the mys~ tery" (Ep I ~9), :it'is only in the moment of trust,that,~we realize underst'and~ ing not solely based on the rational. This wisdom turns us inside out ~and upside down and again we weep because we so need to weep. Even the ligl~t and dazzlingly white parts of transfiguration are blurred. We :live in shadow. Yet, this moment is precious because God is so present, ~ven though veil6'd by cloud: It is in this intimate event that we experience the "existential mo-ment of redemption.'; '~For thus says the Lord Yahweh.~. your salvation lay in conversion and tranquility, your strength, in complete tru'st" ;(Is 30: 15). At first, however, we hesitate to trust the very God who made us;',who We ~lourney Through Tears / 173 Iove~ us with an everlasting love and in whose eyes we are precious. Our pride I~etrays us and we remain too rational to participat.e in ways not our own. Blinded by our desire to have our cak~ and edt it to'Q, we really pre-fer the best of both worlds. Oh yes, we'll, pray but we'll also croffd the soli-tude. We are living examples of being "distracted from distraction by-dis-traction.''' a And why not? After all, we are human. How easily we become ~rey to and proficient in processes of rationalization. Go~l, however, does not rush us. but, per~sistently draws us to himself. Best of all lovers, he is most respectful. It is as though h~ patiently asks: "Will you have me? Will you really have m6?" He gives us Jesus to be our way and to show himself to us (.In 14:6-9). Yet this revelation is always his gift, "because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own. but by'a"gift from God: not by anything,you have d0ne,~so that nobody can claim the credit" (Ep 2:8-9). My virtues do not win this, grace nor do my vices detract from it. Furthermore, it may come witho.ut invitation and planning but never with-o. ut preparation. The gift-giver himself prepares me to receive such'fullness, arid the preparation takes place in the moment of trust. It is then that I am emptied of stubbornness and stripped of~ the tendency to cling to any vanity. In speaking of love, Kahil Gibran poetically exl~resses the depth ahd ex-tent of love's preparation. , When love ~beckons to yQu, follow him, though his ways are hard and ste.ep. And when his wings enfold you yiel.d to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he sp~eaks to" you believe in him. though his voice may shatter your dreams . For even as love crowns yot{ so shall he ~:rucify you. Even as he ascends to your heights and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun~ so shall be'descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.4 In this shaking, I cry all the more; for so many realizations come: 1 must walk a way of unlimited surrender arid constant conversion until the day I leave this earth. I must die while I am alive if I really want to live. And I must lose all if I r~al.ly0~want to participate in the All. As I journey to God I cannot set limits on any sacrifice. I' cannot even expect to avoid suffering, defeat, limitations, failings or misunderstandings. Teilhard de Chardin expresses the diminish.ment I, experience in the rmoment of, trust when he discusses "appa~rent fai~lure and ,its transfiguration." ~ The lives of the saints and generally speaking, the lives of all those who have, been outstanding for intelligenc.e or. goodness, are full of these instapces in~ which one can see the person emerging ennobled, tempered, and renewed from some ordeal, or even some downfall, which seemed bound to diminish or lay the i~erson low forever. Failure . . canalises the sap of bt, r inward life, aT. S. Eli0t5 "Burnt Norton," Four Qigartets. Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 17. ~ " 4The Prophet, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 13. 17'4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 disengages the purest "components" of our being in such a way as to make us shoot up higher and straighter . . . In the presence of St. Augustine or St. Mary Magdalen . :. no one hesitates to think . . . felix culpa . . . As a result of His omnipoience impinging upon our faith, events which show themselves ¯ . . as pure loss will become an immediate factor in the union we dream of establishing With Him.:, And with Chardin I become ready to cry out: "O God, grant that I may understand that it is You (provided my faith is strong enough) who are painfully parting the fibres of my being in order to penetrate to the very marrow of my substance and bear me away within Yourself.'''~ During the emptying and parting of fibers, I pray, and in this prayer Jesus so softly, deeply, intimately, gently, repeatedly says to me: Trust Me. I Love You So Very Much; 1 Died For You. You Are Very Precious To Me. I Am With You, And I Know What I Am Doing With And Through You. Trust Me," Even When You Don't Understand. Always Trust Me. After the light and shadow, th6 revelation and mystery of transfigura-tion, when the apostles "suddenly looked round, they saw no one with them anymore but only Jesus" (Mk 9:8). So it is with us; at the end of trans-figuration we see no one but Jesus. In his light we see and don't see; in the shadow we don't see and can't see. And we cry even more because we'd rather play "finders-keepers"; transfiguration, however, teaches us the role of "finders-seekers." Perhaps our stance does not really matter after all. For Jesus, only Jesus, is in both the beauty of light and the cover of shadow. Realizing this, we, too, can hymn to God's love: Nothing therefore can come between us and the love of Christ, even if we are troubled or worried, or being persecuted, or lacking food or clothes, or being threatened or even attacked. : . These are the trials through which we tri-umph, by the power of him who loved us. For I am certain of this: neither death nor life . . . nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power . . . nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rm 8:35-39). In speaking of his discontent with converting tears, Kahil Gibran hoped to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." We shall conclude these reflections by considering these tears. Tears With Which I Join the Broken-Hearted Before I can sincerely, sensitively, and caringly cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted," I must experience the. comfort of consola-tion from God. And before I can experience his comfort, I will have en-dured suffering. Having reflected on some forms of sfiffering in the discus-sion of pfirification and revelation, we might now consider our experience of God as consoler through St. Paul's own experience of this consolation. ~The Divine Milieu, Harper and Brothers, New York, 1960, pp. 59-60. ~Tt, e Divine Milieu, p~ 62. We Journey Through Tears / 175 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, a gentle Father and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation that we have received from ~God ourselves. Indeed, as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ, does our consolation over'flow (2 Co 1:3-6). Paul pours out so much to us in this short passage. Prayerfully to travel through parts of it is to immerse ourselves in the immeasurably rich reality of the whole. God is a gentle Father and the God o] all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows. ( 2 Co 1 : 3 ). How does one speak of the comfort of God's consolation? Who dares to speak of it? Each of us has perhaps known this rest for our souls. In considering this experience, my words come simply. When I am over-burdened, I go to Him, though not at first, of course, because I am so proud and independent. Finally, however, compelled by an intense, insatiable need, I do go to him (he always invites me [Mt 11:28-30]) and he em-braces me so tenderly and holds me so gently that I wonder why I did not go to him at first. Even when I have resisted going and even when he has waited long for my coming (Is 30: 18), still he greets me as though he had always been my first choice. ~He makes no demands and asks no apologies. Instead, he lavishes me with love and gifts me with his peace, comfort never to be given by anyone or thing in this world (Jn 14:27). And only his peace can dry my tears, heal my wounds, and comfort me to the full. I will heal them and lead them; 1 will give full comfort to them and to those who mourn for them, I the Creator. who gave them life. Peace, peace to the far and the near. says the Lord; and I will heal them (Is 57: 18-19). At. first, the reality of complete relief astonishes me but the Lord fills me so compassionately that I am not overwhelmed. In fact, he enables me to enjoy: ,, A glimpse o[ glory--,I have given them the glory you gave to me" (Jn 17: 22). The glory of grace--"Indeed, from his fullness we have, all of us, received-- yes, grace upon grace" (Jn l : 16). The grace of abiding Love-~"And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). But comfort from the Lord himself, is gift given to be given again, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation we have received from God ourselves (2 Co 1 :~). Before reflecting on offering God's consolation to others, however, I must consider my weakness and God's power. When I experience purifica-tion, revelation, and consolation I become increasingly aware of my many weaknesses. At first, this knowledge overwhelms me but the love of Christ overwhelms me more (2 Co 5." 14). Entangled in the web of human limita-tions, I sometimes approach the broken-hearted ready to extend myself. All too soon I cry my own t~ars, not theirs. Readily I become weighed 176 / ~Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 down by their burdens. And unable to sustain such weight I, too, become broken.~To offer human comfort'alone, is to drain a well dry. Dissatisfac-tion with my present limits enables me to realize that on!y the Lord can "give strength to our bones so that we can be like a wat~r.ed garden, like a spring of water whose waters never run dry" (Is 58:11). Only Jesus can prbrhise that: "the water. I shall give will' turn into a spring inside them, welling Up to ~ternai life" (Jn 4: 14). Those whb drink the milk of human comfort°will thirst'again but those who drink "the water that~I shall give will never be thirsty again" (Jfi 4: 14). A~ I b'ecome increasingly aware of my weaknesses I als'o becomeincreas-ingly convinced of the l~owe~ of God. It is St: Paol who helps me in this recognition: "Yes, we were carrying our 'own death warrant with us, and it has taught us n'ot to rely on ours'elves but only on God" (2 Co 1:9). Just as the Lord prevented Paul from'"getting too proud," he encourages me in a Similar manfier: "My grace is enough fo~ you: my ~power is at its best in w6akness" (2 Co ~12:7-9). However, I cannot tangibly ~measure the power of God nor the degree to which I am offering'another the consolation that I have receiqed from God. This is a matter of' faith. In all likelihood, it is not even necessary knowl6dge for me. Besides, "the coming of thi~ king-dom ~f God does not admit of Observation" (Lk 17.:20). Despite my' weakness, the Lord assureff me that I ~:an still be a vehicle for his consolation. At times, I wonder if he almost delights in my weak-ness~ For Paul recalls: "It was to.shame the wise that God chose what is foolish by human reckoning, and to shame whatqs strong that he chose what is weak by human reckoning" (1 Co 1:27-28). This is how ou~" God is. This is how he loves us. He gives to us always all ways. And he is no respecter of strength. "Yahweh is interested . . . in those who rely on his love" (Ps 147:10-11). He is "near to the broken-hearted" (Ps 34:q8). He even permits 'me to witness his love to the broken-hearted. "We, with our unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness,, of the Lord, all grow brighter and " brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect" (2 Co 3" 18). But St. Paul also reminds us that "We are only the earthen-ware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelm-ing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). To realize the source of bur strength is a special gift so that we might "never. be ashamed of witnessing to the Lord . . . relying on the power of God" (2 Tm 1:8). Having recognized weakness it is possible ~to say with St. Paul: "I have not lost confidence, because I know who it is that I have put,my tru.st in, and I have no doubt at all that he is able to take care of all that I have entrusted to him" (2 Tm 1:12), Now I am able to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." And it is through Christ that consolation will Over[tow (2 Co, 1:6). ,We Journey Through Tears / 1177 Conclusion All life pulses with rhythm and the rhythm Of life pulses within me. Just as seasons of the year repeat, so do seasons of the spirit. Therefore, the Gethsemane experience will be repeated in my life. However, upon its return, neither I nor Gethsemane will be the same. A return or returns are each different from the other and each different from any other's. My body may be ravaged by physical pain, my mind tortured by mental anguish, or my faith shaken by spiritual darkness. But God will be with me throughout it all: leading me, teaching me, and advising me. At last, I will enjoy transfiguration not for a moment bat for an eternity: not only Jesus, but Father, Holy Spirit, and the whole c~ourt of Heaven--[orever. My journey will be finished, "the Lord Yahwehlwill wipe away the tears" (Is 25:8), and "there will be no more death, and no more mourning or sadness" (Rv 21:4) ]orever. ,Now Available As A Reprint Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Se~ks.Him Price:,. $.3b pei: c0py~. plUs~.postage._ Address:~ ~ ~Review for Religious 612 iHumboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 The God of Brokenness Jean Annette Gustafson, C.S.J. Sister Jean Annette last published in these pages in the September, 1976 issue, pp. 77'1-776. She now works full-time as writer, composer, liturgist and artist. She presently resides at 211 Third Ave.; Venice, CA 90291. Often I find myself reacting to the one-dimensional God of our theologies: the God who is always good, kind, loving, patient, supportive, and affirm-ing. If God is omnipotent and omnipresent, then I cannot reconcile this type of God with the majority of my experiences. Too much of life is harsh, violent, non-supportive and tragic. The human condition is characterized by infinite examples of suffering and brokenness: sickness, death, divorce, shattered relationships, crushed hopes, lost loves. For me to believe only in the God described above is to place him somewhere outside the human con-dition; it is to say he is not presentin some of the most significant moments ,of my life. The only God I can know is the God who reveals himselfwthe God whom I perceive in and through my experience. This is not to say that the God I perceive is really God, for the human mind will never in this life totally comprehend or understand who God is. God is indeed a mystery, a paradox. He does transcend the human co~aditibn and yet is somehow intimately involved with us on a day-to-day basis; he is "unmoved" by hu-man suffering and yet profoundly loves us and cares about our pain; he is active in the world and yet often remains silently passive. What I venture to put forth here is certainly not an attempt on my part to define God. It is, however, an attempt to break, down his usual stereotypes and once more to acknowledge his mystery. I have come to a point in my life where I am acutely aware that our words and theologies of God will always fall short of his reality. Our words--good, kind, loving,,and so forth--are not really God, but symbols 178 The God o] Brokenness / 179 which describe our experience of him. When I say that a patient, supportive, affirming God does not always "work" for me, I am merely saying that these words are incomplete, these symbols do not always describe my ex-perience. In times of great suffering and stress, I perceive a different God who no longer fits into the nice, neat categories into which I usually squeeze him. This article is not intended to imprison God in a new "box," but to present, in words I realize can only be symbolic, another one of his many faces--that of the God of brokenness. This God I have experienced ~ is similar to the Hindu Brahma, who creates, and Shiva, who destroys. My God is both loving and dangerous, gentle and violent. He builds me up and he tears me down. He gives me life and he makes me die. He consoles and yet leads me to the pit of desolation. He is the God of Jacob, who wrestles with me and then leaves me maimed. Like the God of Isaiah, "he is a sanctuary and a stumbling stone" (Is 8: 14). He wounds and bruises (Is 30:26); he immerses me in chaos and leaves me bewildered (Is 34:32); he smashes my defenses (Is 24: 13); he reduces me to nothingness and ruin o(Is 24: 14). I do not believe God actually works to destroy me or that I am but a helpless creature victimized by him. But when I am in the throes of a terrible experience, I certainly am aware of my helplessness before his tremendous power. When I feel like he is breaking me apart, I do not consider him to be good nor do I regard him as gentle. His arrows pierce deep (Ps 38:2); his hands .lie on me heavy and hostile (Jb 30:20). Like a lion, he hunts me down (Jb 10: 16), dashes me to pieces (Jb 16: 12), ani:l wrenches me from all former relationships. He causes dissension within and .around me, and often breaks my heart (see Lk 12:49,-52). With wild ruthlessness, he knocks down what he has built and uproots what he has planted (Jr 45:4). "I am going to break [you] just as one breaks a potter's pot" (Jr 19:10-11 ) ; "Irretrievably shattered, smashed., so that of the fragments not one will remain big enough for any use" (Is 30: 14). This "destructive" side of God is something I find in Jesus. As Simeon predicts, Jesus is the child who "is destined for the fall and for the rising of'many" (Lk 2:34). Jesus is not always the "nice guy"; sometimes he is violent, ,angry, and passionately judgmental~ Blatantly he condemns the Scribes and Pharisees; voci.ferously he expels the money changers from the Temple and overturns their tables; defiantly, he l~reaks all sorts of laws and customs of his culture. He lashes out at Peter, ."Get behind me, Satan!" and curses the fruitless fig tree. He deals almost harshly~with both the Canaanite woman and the woman with the hemorrhage. Jesus is the God-man who comes not to bring peace, but the sword. "I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Mt 10:34-6). At the same time, however, Jesus is also someone who is broken by God. Jesus knows only too well what it is to experience hurt and disil- Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 lusionment, the temporariness and fickleness of loves lost. ','You have turned my' friends against me and made' me repulsive to theme' (Ps 88~8)'. "Even my closest and most .trusted friend who shared my table rebels against me" (Ps 41:9; see Jn 13:21 ). Jesus is not always the strong man of Galilee, calling the cards and ~dealing out miracles. He ~is 'a betrayed man,. an aban-doned son, a person whom. his family considers mad and whom his con-temporaries scorn, His agony in the garden is real agony --- close to a com-plete psychological and spiritual breakdown. ',I ~am a worm and no 'man . O :God;:why have you forsaken me?" (Ps 22; Mt 27:46). To perceive that God can"and perhaps does on occasion do violence to us leads me to ask the inevitable: why? Perhaps God is angry and is punishing us.~As the prophet Jeremiah says, ~his is anger that will°burn forever. "We are burnt up by your anger and terrified by your fury" (Ps 90:7). "I will enslave you to your enemies in a country which you do not know, for my anger has kindled a fire that will burn you' up" (Jr 15: 14).0"Yes, a fire has blazed from my anger; it will burn to the depths of Sheol" (Dt 32:22). Perhaps God is jealous (Zc 8:2). "You shall have no gods except me . . . for I am a jealous God, and I punish" (Dt 5:7-9). Or perhaps God.is a stern father, a law-giver, who disciplines and purifies us. "Yahweh your.God is training you as a man .trains his child" (Dt 8:5). "Yahweh reproves the. person he loves, as a father checks a well-loved son" (Pr 3:ll:-12).'Like Jeremiah's potter (or like Pygmalion with Galatea), perhaps God 'tears us down only t6 rebuild and reshape us into 'something better (see Jr 18:4). We are leaky cisterns' which, he must break and then refashion (Jr 2: 13). These answersall seem to play a prominent part in the underlying philosophy of numerous scriptural storie~. God sends a massive flood to destroy the wicked while he rescues Noah'.s family. God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah but sa~es Lot and his relatives. God mak6s the Israelites wander in the desert for forty years until a new generation can be born. God/Hosea punishes his unfaithful wife/Israel but later restores, her to his house. God/Jesus tears down the Temple and in three days rebuilds it. Somehow, howeyer, none of these answers quite satisfy' me. It's not that they are false explanations; it's simply that they define the experience of suffering as something reasonable, as a "means" to something better, instead of as.an experience valuable in and of itself. ~ ~When I suffer with a goal or endpoint in mind, I may live so much in the future that.I remove myself from the present. I somehow anesthetize my pain. -"O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" In essence, I do not suffer. I deny my reality. When. I suffer "for some-thing," I may reduce faith to a false Pollyanna-ism. ,~'What we suffer in .this life can never be compared tb the glory which is waiting for us'? (RmS: 18). In real suffering~ I do not know how things will turn out; in real life, I never,,can predict the~ future. Suffering does not~ guarantee, anything. Further- The God, o! Brokenness more, this mentality of suffering ,~'for something" may giveobrokenness a redeeming'~quality, .but it sets up a false dichotomy. The sentiment that "Today, I am miserable; tomorrow I will be in God's company" puts God somewhere ,Outside the actual experience of being broken. ,.,,Thus, for me, the .symbol,~"God, of brokenness," encompasses ,still another aspect of the Hindu Godhead: Atman, the God within. I see this God's face"in all ~places and .in all people: the spaced-out, hard-looking Clients of a San Francisco V.D clinic, the urine-splattered body of a friend's alcoholic father, a crazy war veteran who lives with his cat on the Marina del Rey ,.jetty, thee frightened old people who spend their last years waiting for death, the neighborhood 'derelicts who rummage through garbage cans seaching, for food, the ~almost hopeless Vietnamese refugees who are not 9nly alienated from their homes but who are overwhelmed by grief, guilt, and depression. This God .is the God of emptiness and senselessness, of divorce and tragedy. He is a strange God--silent, still, vague . . . a God who redeems ,brokenness, not-by changing it, but by being there himself broken and hurting.- This God is a sad God: one who experiences.misunderstanding and poverty. He is a hungry 13od; the God of the streets, the God 0f .the Third World.~ He is. there in failure, exhaustion, rejection. He is a wounded God, who gets threadbare when we do, frustrated when we are, and wearied when we can no longer keep going. Like Jesus, he weeps over a situation he cannot change (Lk 19:41). "How,~often I have longed to gather you together, as a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings" (Lk 13: 35).~ He cries when one of his friends dies (Jn 11:35). "Tears flood my '~eyes night and day" (Jr 14:1~7). This God is somehow helpless with-us. He can do nothing while sinners prosper and good people are stoned to death (see Mt 23:27; 21:35; 22:6). When we s~uffer, he suffers. To perceive a. God who may be broken is to discover intrinsic value in, the experience ,of brokenness. Brokenness is no longer seen as evil in itself, or something which reflects God's absence. Instead, brokenness be-comes the place where we can touch God in .a new way; we can share with him~on deeper levels,.with greater understanding. "A destruction has been decreed," says the .prophet Isaiah, "that will bring inexhaustible in-tegrity. Though Yahweh has struck. [you] harshly, he will heal [you].-. He will reveal himself to you" (Is 10:22). Job, innocent of any crime.but devastated by God ne.vertheless, concurs. Brokenness establishes for us .a new relationship ~with God. "I knew you tlien only by hearsay, but now, I have seen you with my own eyes" (Jb 42:5-6). Brokenness is not just a bad side of the human condition; it is the foundation of integrity, the place where we encounter God face to face. And because God is there, brokenness becomes essential to the realization of true. liberation and full humanization. To be human somehow, contains the inherent predicament that we 1112 / Review for Religious, l/olume 36, 1977/2 tend to build houses on sand instead of on rock. We seem consistently to Choose the particular~in place.of the universal; 'we settle for myopic truths rather than truths of a cosmic dimension. We see aspects of God, and tl~en label them as God in his entirety. We reverence certain values, and then. give' them too much value. We discover another person, and then make-him° or her into a god. Like Humpty Dumpty, we sit securely on the great plans and structures we have erected, never realizing that they lie directly over the "San Andreas fault." Inevitably they crumble and we fall apart with them, never to be put together again in exactly the Same way. Brokenness hurts so much and affects us so completely because it always involves'the loss of something we value, someone we believe in, a truth upon which we base~ our lives. In a sense, the value, the belief, the base from whii:h our actions flow, are all false gods. To lose something or someone extremely significant shocks us into recognizing that although we have been sincereand t6 the best of our knowledge, righteous--we have also been dishonest. We have limitedtruth to our vision of truth; we have blinded ourselves to the larger reality. When we do encounter the real truth, it nearly devastates us: we hit 9.0 on the Richter scale; we ex-perience the total disruption of our previous life patterns. It is as though We were dismembered, detached, estranged from our own selves. The~ truth hurts. None of us likes to get broken. To preserve our-selves from pain, we necessarily alienate ourselves from truth. This, to me, is the essence of sin. We sin whenever we are content with our present understanding of reality and refuse to hear, see, or feel anything to the contrary. Remember the temptation of Jesus in the desert? It is the tempta-tion not to stumble, not to fall, not to be broken. We sin whenever we try to maintain Our psychological, social, or spiritual, status quo~and thus pre-vent the truth from getting too close. How ingenious we are in employing defense mechanisms which sus-tain our superficial peace of mind! How eagerly we let our inner sirens, like those of Jesus Christ Superstar, lull us to sleep and convince us that we have nothing to be worried about. How quickly we turn off the problem~, subsurface anxieties and fears that upset us/ and believe that everything is as it should be. "With God on our side, who cab be against us?" (Rm 8: 32). Just trust in the Lord, and we shall be saved. This artificial stance is what Kierkegaard would call "philistinism." It is a mediocre type of existence which thrives on safety. Like Chief Bromden, in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we refuse to "stick out too far," and like Jenny in Ingmar Bergmann's Face to Face, we cannot .probe too deeply within ourselves. Either position is a risk; either can break us. I am beginning to realize that we are all makers of idols in one way ~or another. We close ourselves ~ff to certain parts of reality. If we start feeling uneasy in our self-deception, we simply take another pill, swallow some more bourbon, or enroll in transcendental meditation classes. In some The God. o] Brokenness / ! 113 area of ou¢.~iives and' our relationships, we .d.ull our truth-receptors and choose to live--again, like Chief Bromden--in a perpetual state of fog. So much of our "normal" ' existence so effectively evades the truth, that it takes a bizarr~ and catastrophic event to. make us realize, with Dr. Martin Dysart in Equus, the enormity of our numbness and the magnitude ofour 'repression. No wonder that when promises and relationships (which were really founded on incomplete truths) are broken, so' many of us have emotional and nervous breakdowns. Brokenness forces us to re-evaluate our vision of-reality, reassess our beliefs and values, and perceive the truth more comprehensively. What continues to amaze me is the belief that in Jesus I not only find a broken man who stumbles and falls all the way to Calvary, but a broken God who stumbles, falls, and is crucified. The God-man on the cross is the most" incredible event in history. It not only boggles my mind; it shocks me (like St. Paul who got knocked down from his horse) into new levels of awareness. That God would choose to become part of the human condi-tion, that he would be incarnated as Jesus, that he would allow himself to be broken, forces me to see reality in a new way. Truth becomes larger than I ever imagined. My former truths, like clothes which have shrunk, are no longer big enough. I have changed. I am somehow more honest, and thus, mor~ capable of achieving liberation. I believe that the God-man on the cross happens every time we suffer, every time we wait withoot hope, every time we lose heart. In brokenness, we enter an altered state; our consciousness expands, deepens, matures. We become necessarily more humble, for we now realize our grasp of truth is not~as all-encompassing as we once thought, our power to control the future is not as absolute as we would,have liked, we' are not really made up of "sugar.-and spice and all things nice." We are not yet honest, not yet free, not yet human. We cannot put new wine in old wine skins, nor can we put new truths in old structures. To become new, to become whole, adult,' ~integrated, means to somehow "suffer in God's way," "to change for.the better" (2 Co 7: 10): We must. detach ourselves from our old struc-tures and bonds; we must constantly undergo experiences of brokenness. We.must "break the unjust fetters and undo .the thongs of the yoke . . . to let the oppressed [in and outside us] go free" (I~ 58:6). It is beginning to make some sense to me ~why such towering persons of G0d--Augustine, Teresa of Avila, Joan of Arc, and countless others-- are all persons who have known brokenness, not just once, but over and over again. "It is indeed a dreadful thing," as the author of Hebrews tells us, "to fall into the hands of the living God" (Heb 10:31). To establish an honest relationship with God is to live, as Teresa writes in the twenty-first chapter of her Autobiograph~,~"a troubled life, never without its crosses, but a life of great growth." To t~y and yet to make mistakes, to be sincere 184 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 and yet to fail, to give everything and. realize it is still not enough, is.to be, come more human and, I think, more like God. Perhaps what I am writing about is another version of John of the Cross' last Night of God, Albert Camus' existential stance in the face of absurdity, the Gestalt therapists' belief that we must experience and value our suffering. In each of these systems of thought, we are called upon to suffer with a courage which~'in a way surpasses faith. For m~e,~the God of brokenness is a symbol which evokes from me the realization that God al-ways transcends what I believe about him, and thus challenges me beyond faith to a courage to let go of my questions and also m~y answers. Like Job--face to face with the God of brokenness l receive not only the power to persevere through suffering, but the power to heal and be healed. This is what I think Paul means when he writes:- "I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly" (Col 1:29). If we can but touch this broken God, contact mystery and let it remain mystery~ then shall our wounds be .quickly healed over (Is 58:9), then shall we obtain new life, then shall our broken hearts be revived (Is.57:15). "I will heal [you] and console you," says the God of Isaiah. "I will comfort you to the full, both you and your afflicted companions . Peace, pe~ace to far and near, I will indeed heal you" (Is 57:18-19). 1 do not write these things lightly, nor are they, for me, "pie-in-the-sky" truisms. I write them as someone.who is just now emerging from an. over-whelming three-year experience of being crushed and broken. I have not been able to put myself together as before, nor, for that, matter, have ."all the king's horses and all the king's men" been any more successful. But, almost like Ezekiei's vision of the dry bones, I feel my disjointed parts knitting together in a new way, with a new identity, a greater integrity, and a freer spirit. God is active and present in my experience; his spirit is breathing life into my broken pieces. ,Not only has brokenness changed me, it is increasing my capacity to act and live so that the liberation and humanization of others can also take place (whether these others live in the Third World, in my, neighbor-hood, or in my family/community). As St. Paul says, it seems we mu~st suffer change within ourselves so that we may be better able to increase love, build stronger bonds between persons, improve our k~nowledge of reality, and deepen our perception of the entire trtith (see Ph 1:9). Broken-hess-- with its simultaneous experience of a passive God--is forcing ,me to acknowledge my limitations, but also forcing me to accept the responsibifity to do what I can to eliminate the oppressors of the human spirit. ~, ~ I do believe in a God of love, but I also know that I do not know what these words mean. Perhaps, as Noel O'Donoghue writes: "Love is first and last the heart open to be wounded again and again and again.~. Where the tears of things, the tragedy of life has touched ~me most poignantly, :The God o/ Brokenness / 185 there, in that direction is the heart of God.''1 For me, a God 6f love is also a God of brokenness--who breaks me (or allows me to be broken), and yet who is broken with me. I do not understand suffering, nor do I understand him. All I can really say is that I have been br~okeg, I am being healed, I will be broken again. And somewhere in my suffering, he will be there. O God, whoever you may be, I pray for the ever increasing ability to see your truth clearly and to keep trying despite all obstacles. Do not let my floundering be for nothing or my agony wasted . Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new (John Donne, "Divine Meditations, 14,). 1Noel Dermot O'Donoghue, O.C.D. "The Faces of God," Doctrine and Li/e, Sept. 1976, pp. 639 and 643. Soliloquy of a Seed Something tells me to surrender ail' I am and hope to be; and (o de~s'cend the dark of earth to be transformed into a tree; but~to go up dare I go down and think a tree can fit in me? Edward A. Gloeggler P~O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Cooperation or Opposition: Analytical Psychology and Christianity Approach Suffering Josef Goldbrunner Professor Dr. Goldbrunner is on the faculty of the University of Regensburg, Ger-many. Analytical psychology and Christianity constitute two theoretical systems; they are both patterns of life as well as two theories about salvation. What is their mutual relationship? Is cooperation between them possible or are they fundamentally opposed to one another? This question is 'to be examined with regard to another question which distresses them both--the question of suffering, We shall investigate the effect the two have on those who suffer, not only theoretically but in the instance of concrete results. How much supportive and effective force does Christianity exert on those who suffer? And what effective force lies at the disposal of Jung's analytical psychology? The method chosen for our investigation is that of the "soul's journey," a method Dante likewise selected as the basis for his Divine Comedy. In the present instance, however, we have in mind a contemporary soul-journey; and we envision, as it were, a skyscraper with an elevator in which we will ride from top to bottom through all the stories down into the basement where the foundations of the structure--analogous to the dwelling place of the soul--are anchored. A stop will be made at some of the stories and the problematics involved in each stop will be debated. I From the penthouse at the very top of the building we gaze out into a landscape of suffering whose traces are evident everywhere: psychic suffer-ing, .spiritual suffering, mental suffering; and in every instance pain is pres- 186 Cooperation or Opposition / 1117 ent like a devouring, caustic acid. The full]/ human experiencing of such pains we term suffering. Is there any remedy for this suffering, any rcure or perhaps even a deliverance from it? A terrifying landscape of suffering lies before us, a landscape which at first glance seems meaningless. Dare this suffering exist? Ought it to be? Must it be? Is suffering an .evil or is it good? And not only do we encounter evil as' something existent, but men as well who of themselves increase it. These are questions which have plagued mankind since the beginning of time. If we descend one story, however, we will discover there, stored in a library as it were, the answers which mankind has proposed to these self-same queries. Let us begin with antiquity: Vergil knew that objects, too, have their tears--sunt lacritnae rerum--and Aeschylus had his Agamemnon state that "in suffering there is knowledge." That is the pedagogical value of suffering, a value 'which is still a contested issue. Then, too, there are books in which the pain of initiation rites is described, pains of growth or "becoming" in-flicted during such rites. There are, furthermore, books which glorify this pain as a type~of mysticism of sufferingi Christian spirituality in particular has contributed to the support of this attitude: through suffering one merits heaven, for suffering is a form of participation in the sacrifice of Christ. We can also discover books about the intoxication of pain, books which originated in archaic mystery cults, As a result of this intoxication of suffering an explosion-like expansion of consciousness is produced which extends into the realm of religious experience: Although the aging and .morose Schopenhauer denied that pain has any meaning whatever, Kant spoke of its immanent value to life~ Nietzsche elevated it to the level of an heroic stature and Teilhard de Chardin maintained that pain is indeed a propellent force in the process of evolution. In the writings of India we are taught that it is only through repeated rebirths that we are ultimately freed from pain. In the books of the Jews pain is looked upon as a punishment for guilt and is required for the confirmation of the good. And then there is Camus. In his novel The Plague he~ says to the dentist: "We ought not to rest so long as there is one child who is still suffering. A god who would allow such a thing--no~ there is no god." The poet Hermann Claudius once penned the noteworthy verse: " 'Great God of eternity, do You will joy or sorrow?' And the voice above me spoke, 'Why do you distinguish be-tween the two?' " Thorton Wilder remarked sarcastically: "Why have the gods not expressed themselves more plainly in this matter?" And Berdyaiev, who died in 1948 as a Russian 6migr6 in Pai'is, speculated in his famous boo~, The Meaning o[ History, about the possibility of a catastrophy which erupted within~the bosom of the Trinity: pain may well have arisen as a direct consequence of this catastrophe and God himself had to make 188 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 amends for this by personally entering into the world,and gathering it unto himself. Answer follows upon answer. In the final chorus of the Passion Accord-ing to "St, Matthew we are told: "Amid tears we. sit down," but it is pre-cisely this, ho~vever, that we no longer are able to do. Sorrow shouldo.nOt be; that is the protest that weighs upon our shoulders today. We ought to do everything in our .power to ward off pain.Can analytical psychology be of any ,assistarice here? And .Christianity, what can it effect in this. at.ca? What can the therapist do to alleviate suffering? What, the pastor of souls? III ~ Let us descend one more story where we come upon a therapist's con-sultation office. Across from him sits a patient whose eyes radiate an intense suffering, a, spiritual~ pain, a person who can no. longer, frge himself.from his own nightmares. Hideous monsters harass him, close in upon him, and the more he tries to ward them off, themore they pursue him, the more loath-some they become. He endeavors to defend himself against all this horror, against theseS'negative factors that seek to force their way out of his uncon-scious into .,his consciousness. Then the therapist demands of him that he overcome this dualism, this .dichotomy within himself, by accepting this darkness~within him, by admitting that these monsters spewing forth evil are also. an integral part of his nature. The patient .stares at him without comprehension, even more, with spiritual horror. He is to be~not only Jupi-ter, but Saturn as well? Not only: Apollo but equally. Dionysus,~,Faust and Mephistopheles? And help, he. is told; can be obtained, only if he.':over-comes~ this dissension, this dualism~ and admits that this darkness .is only a part of himself. Yes, this is the way to wholeness, the way.~of integration of the darkness within one's own inner self. This is the juncture at which curative indivjduation occurs. Analytical psychology points out ways to such a possibility,for life; Who-ever has once gazed into the horrified eyes of one suffering in such a man-ner, ,one caught within such a personal crisis; and whoever has seen how there gradually emerges from this horror a composite of shuddering and fascinated astonishment, because in this commingling of good,,and evil, .of joy and.grief, in this union of light and darkness a new dimension reveals itself, a religious dimension actually; whoever has experiqnced these things for himself knows that the way of individuation is indeed a~form of healing which leads one from the depths of spiritual suffering to new life: That,is the way out of the dualism of light and darkness to the ,fusion of their antitheses; out of the enmity of good and e.vil, the enmity~of good and,evil tendencies, to the reconciliation of, the, two; from the separation of the conscious from its roots in. the subconscious to wholeness; from fruitless suffering to a type of rebirth. Medical experience has discovered the truth of this again and again with reference to individuals, the individual.patient. Isit Cooperation or Opposition / !119 not possible that the way of individuation is of equal verity with reference to the collective life of.mankind? Would it not be possible, then, that ana-lytical psychology could also aid in the alleviation of the' great .sufferings of all mankind? ~ ~ . IV , Let us now leave the therapist's consultation room and'take the elevator down another story to his study, a veritable replica of.the chambers of Doctor Faust. A book is lying on his desk, a copy of Jung's Answer to Job, and across from the psychol~herapist sits a thrologian who is at the same time an expert in pastoral care, a man in other words who" is not only learned in the area of theory but one who from personal experience is in-timately 'acquainted with the heights and depths of the human soul. He places a copy of the Holy Scriptures on the desk in front of him and a dialogue ensues between the two, the psychotherapist and the theologian, between psychology and Christianity. In his book Answer"to Job Jung poured forth all the. professional anger in his soul his anger with God, the creator of such a'world, and his anger with Christianity which often enough only increases the sufferings of man here on earth. The book is, however, also an attempt to apply 'his theory of individuation to the question of the sufferings of mankind. Although he is not able to provide a wholly satisfactory answer to this question, otir expectation allows us to hope that he will be able at least to convert the torture chamber into an operating room. Let us listen a moment to Sbme of his argument and share a portion of his Answer to Job. Dichotomy, dualism, division--these constitute the source of all un-happiness; but especially the dichotomy between the conscious and the un-conscious, between light and darl~ness and, too, between good and evil. This dichotomy within the soul is projected onto our image of God kand thus God is drawn into the dichtomy within the human soul. According to Jung, Christian teaching has recognized only the luminous Christ as the Son of God, while his dark brother, Satan, has been wholly separated from God. In a very early stage 0f the development of Jewish theology, Satan was still a member of the heavenly.court and he bore the title LuCifer, the bearer of light (Jb 1:6). Christianity, however, drove him out from the court of heaven, thrust him down into hell and thereby separated evil from God. In God resides only good, and consequently all evil, all wickedness had to be eliminated from the image.of God. The orientatiow toward such an image of God, however, must necessaiily have negative repercussions on man, who will then seek to repress into .himself all forms of darkness arid to force his shadow down into his subconscious. It is there that the devil now rages and generates collective explosions the two World Wars and the ter-rible interlude in Germany between these wars. If we would but dare once again to alter the image of God, to concede that Christ and Satan are:both 190 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Sons of God, to unite light, and darkness, good and evil, to reconcile joy and pain, and to recognize in God the conjunction of antitheses as a complexio oppositorum; and then, if man would have the courage to identify himself with such an image of God, then indeed mankind would open a way for accepting the evil and shadow within itself, an acceptance with even a religious basis, for it would but reflect the very nature of God himself. Were this so, ext, reme tensions would subside to a bearable and politically manageable level. The conscious would be so conjoined with the subconscious that henceforth evil could be controlled by man and never again would, the explosions of warfare have to erupt from within the structure of society. That would indeed be a way for mankind out of count-less sufferings. This is a fascinating train of thought and, even though the exegesis of Ju.ng's book is now long out-of-date, we do find in it an image of God the contemplation of which demands great courage: God as bright and dark, good and evil, an image which nonetheless could prove to be the remedy for the hopeless situation of the world today. Were this concept to prevail, analytical psychology would be more than a mere medical, discipline; by abandoning the consultation rooms of the doctor, psychological therapeutics would evolve from a healing science to a salvific science. But let us not at- ~tempt to take the easy way out. There are passages in the Old Testament which seem to verify Jung's view: see Is 45:6-7: ". I am the Lord, and there is none else~ I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil . " And in Lm 3:38: "Shall not both evil and good pro-ceed out of the mouth of the Most High?" The image of God in the Old Testament would seem to confirm what Jung proposed. The theologian sitting opposite the therapist begins to speak: "I under-stand your whole protest, sir, the protest of the doctor, .of mankind, the protest of a grieving and sickened mankind. And I admit that appearances seem to speak in your favor. I have one main objection, however, to your position: your way does not penetrate the world within, it does not breach the inner realm of the soul, for this image of God consists only of a projec- ,tion from within man himself. Whoever seeks to address the question of suf-fering, however, has to break through to the exterior world, he would have to coordinate his image of God to God's. own reality--and this cannot be accomplished solely with projections from within man's inner world. As a theologian, I would like to advance an argument of my own. "My first argument can be found in the New Testament in I Jn 1:5: '. God is light and in Him is no darkness.' According to the evidence of biblical exegesis, light in this instance signifies ethical perfection. In God, therefore, there is no contact with moral evil. God is light and no darkness exists within him. To project darkness onto the being of God contradicts the clear statement of Holy Scripture. On this issue, Christianity clearly opposes Jung's Answer to Job." Cooperation or Opposition / 191 This position, however, creates a new difficulty for theology, concerning which one cannot remain naive and say that God is good and everything evil springs from somewhere else. Even the. theologian must make God re-sponsible for the evil and wickedness and suffering in the world, for God created a suffering world. Consider only the fears of animals--fears of one another, of earthquakes, floods and epidemics with all their consequent sufferings. God is directly responsible for all of this physical evil. In con-trast to this, however, it is necessary to distinguish moral evil, because of which an excessive amount of pain is engendered in the world and through which the .physical evil present is increased even more--as for example through the agency of war. Although this moral evil stems from man himself,~ God did create man with this inherent possibility and thus he also is responsible, albeit indirectly, for the moral evil in the world. He effects salvation, and creates evil., he leads into temptation! Is God, therefore, evil after all'?." But 1 Jn 1:5 states that "God is light and in Him there is no darkness." A modern mystic, Marie Noel, wrote: "For God, the Sovereign Good, cannot be suspected.TM Christianity has indeed rejected all teachings which defile the image of God. The question thus remains: Since he is responsible for everything, since he effects both redemption and evil, what attitude is one to assume toward such a God? There are three possibilities. The first one is atheism, .the denial of the very existence of God. The second is the way indicated by Jung, the projec-tion namely of both good and evil into the nature of God~ In both of these instances human modes of thought have been made the measure of God. The third possibility is the open question of whether it is not possible that God is responsible for everything, and yet he is only light without any admixture of darkness. This is something enigmatic. Perhaps angther, a supernatuial possibility is open to God? This open question has always been a thorn in the flesh of a thinking Christianity, ,an open wound that will not heals, but one that prevents us from locking ourselves up within the inner chambers of our soul. It spurs us on rather continually to attempt to break through from the immanent to the transcendent. Expressed in simple terms this means that our open question compels us to permit God to be God and not a human being. Karl Barth stated the problem in a very speculative and scientific sounding formula when he said that this was the "ultimate exhaustion of systematic theological speculation." Despite all responsibility for suffering in the world, there is no darkness within God--a dilemma in-capable of solution in human terms. Thus, it is that indeed on ~principle analytical psychology and Christianity differ one from the other. A second argument consists in the fact that, although one might expect Christ to have revealed something about suffering and to have clarified its 1Marie Noel (pseud. for Marie Melanie Rouget), Notes ]or Mysel] (Notes intimes). Tr. by Howard Sutton. Cornell University Press, 1968, p. 33. 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 significance, he did nothifig of the kind. He refused to argue with, the Pharisees'~about it or to offer any explanation whatsoever. His own disciples thought.'within the framework of a correspondence between guilt and punishment, and thus when they asked him in the case of the man who had been born blind who was responsible for his blindness, he himself or his parents (Jn 9:1-2), Christ answered, "None of them." Beyond this he did not go--he, offered no proof. He never spoke of the how or the whence or the wherefore of suffering, nor did he promise in any way that our human condition would ever change. He did, however, proclaim a new Day of the Lord on.which the creator would once again touch the world with his creator-hands ~ind remove all suffering. On that day he will cause all former things to pass away and will "wipe away each tear" (Apoc 21: 4).~This is all a reference to some time in the~future and thus to an act of redemption, hot of healing. Can one really take this promise seriously and yet maintain that .it is but ~a futile and ineffectual consolation against a far distant future, aovain 'promise of better things to come in some far distant time? That would indeed be an .expansion, of consciousness to a far distant and ~future" horizon. This' attitude demands of the Christian first of'all a renunciation, of any°reasoned proof for the necessity of suffering; secondly, a reservation and modesty in judgment before the enigma of the question of suffering,' which ought thus to be treated as a "question of discretion" in relation to God~ and thirdly, it is demanded of the Christian that he sur-render ,himself to suffering. ~ ~ This leads~directly to a third argument, the distinction, namely, be-tween' "evil~''~ and its.,"fuiiction." Evil does remain evil, but it can have a positive function. Pain is terrible, but it can also have a positive function. Suffering ought.,not to be, nor should it be allowed to continue to exist, and yet it too can exert a positive effect. Although the evil ~remains evil, even ~in has positive :consequences. That is the mystery of the felix culpa, The why and the wherefore of evil and wickedness and suffering are connected With God, although we are unable to explain how. But what we can ascer-tain is at least a .part,.a thread of this whole skein of realities, namely 'that the function, of evil','or wickedness or even pain can be positive as well as negative. Let us discuss this matter in somewhat greater detail, An excellent and telling example of this point of view is to be found in Lhe story of, the prodigal son and the banquet given in his honor upon his return home (Lk 15:1-32). His sin remains sin, the evil he committed re-mains' evil, the suffering he caused remains suffering--this is something he did do, something which did hurt his father. Later, however, in conversa-tion with his father during~the celebration banquet, the son begins to under-stand for the' first time"his 'father's maturity, and for the first time the father can rejoice at the reasonableness of his son who at long last has outgrown his ~child!sh naivete~ This certainly does not imply Some form of mysticism of sin, nor is it an appeal to sin, for in no way was it certain that. the son Cooperation or Opposition /d93 would ever find his way home again. He could just as easily have lost his way forever. But for him who returns we rejoice. This positive function of suffering is an experience which analytical' psychology has concretely ascertained and with which it operates; it relies upon it as a medicinal factor in the,process of curing. To this extent the psychotherapist is a specialist in the area of pain, and to an equal degree the pastor of souls should likewise be such an expert in the same area. This is one of the fruits of the theory of integration of the darker elements of man's nature into his conscious personal!ty. The function of wickedness, evil and pain, therefor.e, can be something positive. Analytical psychology will share this experience with Chr!stianity if Christianity will but renounce naive thinking and forego its predominant modes of thought. To this extent these two theo-retical systems can attai~ a mutual understanding. V Christianity, however, knows something more, a something which can-not be discussed in the atmosphere of~a polemic. Let us, therefore, abandon the room where the psychotherapist and theologian sit across from one another and descend a few more stories of our skyscraper. There0w,e will come upon a chapel suffused with the "air of individuation," that is a s, till-ness with a meditative atmosphere, a quietness that radiates a presentiment of transcendence. And let us fu~'ther imagine that at this precise moment a woman is entering the chapel, a woman who has been sl.andered, and against which slander she cannot defend herself. This calumny has hu-miliated her beyond description and its grave con.s~eqences have seriously affected her marriage, her social position--indeed her whole life. The only thing that she can do, this Christian woman, is to let the suffering in her soul rage itself out until she is wholly burnt out within. At this point in her life she now stands squarely be,fore the Pauline e,xperience of kenosis; the function of her suffering is no longer somethi.ng merely psychic, for in her it has also assumed a theological dimension, a theological reality which cannot be clarified by means of some theory. It is rather only through the aid of symbols that one .can hope to lay bar( .what is happening in-the woman's heart, that we can begin to perceive her struggle in the midst of .the burning pains of her humiliation, in the fluctuating rise and fall of her emotions, in her cries for succor; in the absence of any answer to her grief. All of this is veiled within symbols, and yet at the same time re-vealed by them: Buddha smiles--Christ weeps. Buddha sits--Christ treads the way of the cross Buddha seeks to destroy the ability to suffer--Christ, however, assumes the burden of,the cross Buddha remains silent--Christ cries out upon the cross 194 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Buddha dissolves his being into the great Nirvana--Christ however, is awakened from the dead Buddha detached all disciples from himself--Christ will draw all men to himself (Jn 12:32). It is a function of suffering:that, by wholly emptying itself, it fights its way through to ultimate humiliation and degradation until everything within it is consumed and dissolved. But then there follows an ascent, a rebirth. The woman leaves the chapel and her bitterness of heart may well have been transformed into a compassion for every living creature. She does not know how this happened, or why, but she experiences it nonetheless, the experience of a transformation. She is not necessarily comforted--for in her soul something was indeed consumed by flames--but she is strength-ened. As Paul Claudel once wrote: "God does not comfort, but he does strengthen." This truth of Christian experience still exceeds what analytical psychology can effect. VI So as not to abandon the basis of sober fact, let us descend yet another story where we enter a dentist's office. He is just about to begin drilling a patient's tobth. Let us also imagine that for some reason or other he was unable to anesthetize the patient's mouth before drilling. He thus demands of his patient the' a.cceptance of the pain to follow, a searing agony likened only to some invention of the devil. This is in a way a tragicomical situation to be enacted in a dentist's chair and one in which there are no heroes. The situation, however, has the advantage of being able to prepare the pain cleanly and in every detail, pain in the purest form, as it were. At this juncture, all of our theories collapse like houses built of cards. When the whole scene is over, we experience a most remarkable sensation, as if some-how something foreign had touched us, as if in a way we were standing on the border of a new dimension of reality. And we are also perhaps thank-ful that the pain, though not our own, has ceased. From where did the man derive the courage to endure such suffering, and to do so in silence? And what transpired in us during the operation? Theoretically we are indeed unable to imagine this, but in the form of a dream it can be done. VII Now let us descend to the lowest sub-basement, where the foundations of both our imagined skyscraper and our psyche are anchored. In a dream series one dream is repeated again and again: a cave in a forest and flight from the cave. In the next dream, however, the following occurs: This time, in spite of great fear, I entered the cave. Suddenly I had to stop because I had come upon the edge of an abyss or chasm. It was horrible just to gaze into it and I could not bring myself to do so. Finally, however, I did look down and then I experienced a moment of terrifying fear, a moment Cooperation or Opposition / 195 of hatred and desperation. Everything within me was thrown into disorder and as I stood there looking down, the chasm suddenly was not there any more. A stream of clear and flowing water had assumed its place, At this point, two questions arise: First, what really is happening in the dream? Abyss, fear, hatred, desperation--is that what dying is like? Some-thing in the dreaming person had to die. "Everything within me was thrown into disorder," he said. The stages of this transformation are clear: the sur-rendering of one form of life by gazing down into the abyss--the descent into a chaos which is simultaneously a creative chaos. Suddenly--and one is not certain how or why, since this is decidedly not an intellectual process which can be initiated or manipulated--an ascent, a rebirth is symbolized by a stream of clear flowing water, the water of life, the sign of a new life. Is the mystery of suffering ultimately the same as the mystery of kenosis: dying, chaos, new life? A sense of awed modesty in the face of such an occurrence cannot fail but to seize those who have ever been permitted to witness such .an event, be it as psychotherapist or pastor of souls or simply as a fellow .human being. A second question here 'forc6s its way to the fore: whence did the pa-tient derive the courage finally to stare down into the abyss, to confront his suffering? ~The intensification of his personal crisis, the increasing pressure of his suffering are without a doubt contributing factors. Certain energetic dynamics of his psyche must also have urged him forward. Just as as-suredly, however, this ~was also a question of inner stature and for this very reason such courage cannot be demanded of those with lesser internal forti-tude. An equal role, however, must be attributed to the effect of the ther-apist whose consciousness influenced, in an intellectual manner, the con-sciousness bf the patient; in like manner, too, his unconscious influenced the patient's unconscious. (This non-verbal communication can go so far that the patient's dreams and those of the psychot.herapist's are actually identical, a fact attested by recent research in this area.'-') The 'transformation must also have been effected by the fact that the third psychic instance in the psychotherapist--one might call it the "self" or even the "person"--in-fluences the nucleus of the patient's own person. That is the non-verbal, cura-tive gift which can effect courage, the courage tO gaze down into the abyss and to accept this suffering and thisdying. It is also an invitation to a further penetration and absorption into one's inner sel~. This is a process which cannot be manipulated; and whether the patient is willing to cooperate in the process, whether he or she.participates wholeheartedly and with under-standing, can only be the result of a composite of pressure from suffering, inner fortitude and freedom, free choice. At this point psychotherapy is no longer merely a form of mechanics, but has become rather a communica, tion between therapist and patient, an exchange worthy of a human being. zH. Dieckmann, "Der Traum und das Selbst im Menschen," in Analytische Psycho- ~ Iogie, V (1974), 1-16, esp. pp. 11-12. 196 / Review for Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/2 The pastor of souls also exerts an influence on the faithful, consciously in conversation with them, subconsciously when he suffers with them, as St. Paul said: "Weep with those who weep." But over and above this, the nucleus of his person influences that of the other, and if faith dwells there and~ inothis faithS,~ the pneuma, the blowing of the Holy Spirit, then here we encou~nter a new, a pneumatic dimension which is not to be found in depth psychology. In-this instance Christianity goes beyond analytical psychology. If the .Christian participateg in this movement, his participation is also the result of a con~posite; a composite of the pressure from suffering, inner forti-tude, freedomS,and faith. It can indeed be maintained that, with respect to thei'r efficacy fbrothose who suffer, analytical psychology and Christianity do share much~ ih .common; Christianity, however, exceeds their common bond, it goes :a,step beyond it~ VIII Let us now leave the cellar and mount upward again. After such a "jour-ney of the soul" one ought to recover one's equilibrium over a .glass of wine, or~better yet by participating in a' symposium. A portion of Plato's Sym-posium thus geems fitting here: the participants have spent the 'night in di;inking and revelry and have fallen asleep, including Aristodemos, 'the commentator of the final scene. On th6 following morning, as the cock be-gins to crow,~.he awakens and sees that onlythree others are also awake-- Socrates and two of his drinking compahions. They have filled a huge bowl with wine and in' honor of the gods of morning, they pass it around from one to the other, each one sha~ing it with his neighbor on the right. Socrates is trying to explain to his companions that a truly gifted writer of tragedies must at:,the same time also be a writer of comedies. This is that famous Socratic irony that reappears again and again and which Guardini interprets thusly.' "The thinking man realizes that realities exist which exceed his ability to formulate.''':~ ~ Human, words cann~3t encompass the truth, and one should be able to laugh at this, just as Socrates and his companions did. Having now taken a soul-jc~urney through the great question of suffering, weighed terrifying questioris and looked into the depths of various chasms, the ultimate re-mains to be said: we have no answers. We. have nonetheless experienced something about the efficacy of suffering. This can annoy us; yet on the Other hand we can laugh at it as well. To us as Christians the latter is be-fitting. In conclusion we might well cite Harvey Cox who, in a diagnosis of the religious attitude of our present age, made a statement that is in essence aparaphrase of this very Socratic irony: "Comic hope is the mood of Our embryonic religibus sensibility today.'"' :~Romano Guardini, Stationen und Ruckblicke. Wurzburg, 1965, p. 49. ¯ 'Harvey Cox, The Feast of Fools. A Theological Essay on Festivity and Fantasy: Harvard University Press, 1969, p. 156. A Movement Toward Hope: Christian Fraternity of the Sick Pdtricia Loivery, M.M, Sigt~r ~Pdtri~:ia has, ~f late, become a frequent contributor to these pages. Twenty-five years i~ ~P~r6, she resides at the~conveht o[ Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; A~requi~a; Perti." ~ - ,~ Ond~of the most moving experiences of~Christian .community in which I have shared took place in a house dedicated to "Our Izady. of Happiness." The o~casiian was the "VI National Assembly 6f the Christian Fra~ternity, of the Sick." At this week-long meeting 53 delegates from 14 dioi:eses in Per(= gathered tb. review the past work of the fraternity and set new goals for the,ftiture. The~tffeme of the meeting was: "A New Man for a New Society." The model of that ne~v nian, of'course, ~was th~ Risen ChriSt, but~ Iosaw be-foreome~ men= and women' Who were veiy much in the process of becoming "new;' thdmselve'~. The majority of the delegates were young (20-_30), °most were severely handicapped and all were utterly ingpiring.=;Being with v~aliant handicapped people was, not a new experience for me, but somehbw the un2selfconscibus~ happy and dedicated way they approached the work at hand ,was asterling exampleoof what the,'fraternity is all about: These people, 'having passed through~theirodarkest moments of suffering with the help of others, were now ready and eager' to share the vision of their, new life and the source of their happiness. Each had0his, particular story but ho one was~much con-cerned about dwelling on it, and certainly, there was no trace of self-pity or need for sympathy. The atmosphere was one of normal, happy, enthu-siastic people .facing .a challenging .task; the complete acceptance of one another promoted full and active participation on.the part~ of all. ~ Our long,day began in the chape!~where our best sharing and dialogue 197 1911 / Review for Religious, ,Volume 36, 1977/2 took place. The hours sped by as we attended meetings, did household chores (dish washing was a fun time!), relaxed, sang, introduced the whole group to particular areas of the country through slides, typical dances and stories, attended uplifting liturgies, and offered a helping hand (or foot) to anyone in need of it. There are numerous examples that could be cited to make one marvel at what handicapped people can do, but I prefer simply to' state the fact that there is nothing they cannot do, especially when gathered together in a house of "happiness." In this article, I would like to give some specific information about the Christian Fraternity of the Sick--its history, spirit, structure, concerns and hopes for the future. History In 1942, in the City of Verdfin, France, a young woman named Mar-garita Renaud was in the hospital. At the same time, the chaplain, P~re Franqois (now Auxiliary Bishop of Verdfin) became a patient. During his time of recuperation, and having learned from his own experience of suf-fering, he began to see the patients in a new light and treat them with new interest. One day he suggested to Margarita that she write to several other sick in the city, inviting them to visit the hospital; three of them responded to the invitation. Two weeks later, five came t6 visit Margarita and P~re Franqois and all committed themselves to visit other sick in their homes. From then on, they met every two weeks to discuss their visits and to share their insights. Pi~re Franqois led them tO a deeper understanding of Scripture and of Christian community. Thus began the Fraternity of the Sick--a movement of the sick for the sick. ~, ¯ Two years later, thirty-fivemembers, some on stretchers and. in wheel2 chairs, made a pilgrimage to the shrine of the Virgin in Benoite-Vaux, and there they celebrated the '~'birthday" of the fraternity. Little by little, it spread to almost all the dioceses of France, ,to Switzerland, Belgium, Ger-many, Africa, Canada and Spain. From Spain it was brought to Mexico and to the countries of Central and South America. On March 1,. 1967 the seed was planted in Perti by a~dynamic Jesuit, Padre Manuel Duato. His own personal experience of physical pain coupled with a joyous, bouyant spirit won him many followers among0the sick and handicapped in Peril. They nicknamed him: "Padre Quitapenas"--the priest who takes the pain away. His friends grieved deeply when. he died of can-cer in December of 1973. His memory is perpetuated in his lasting gift to them: a new way of life--the way of hope, courage and joy. " The spirit of the fraternity is both realistic and idealistic. The realism is the acknowledgment that we are limited, weak, sick. We are not afraid of the word "sick," but we do protest the commonly used word "invalid" A Movement Toward Hope / 199 because it connotes ~the idea of worthlessness, uselessness and complete in-activity. The fraternity challenges the indifference of modern society toward the physically limited or weak person. We do not hesitate to acknowledge weakness because, by experiencing it, we have become more truly ourselves with a deeper capacity to contemplate the existence of God and the mystery of life. But, like other minority groups, we feel the need to fight for the recognition of ourselves as full persons with corresponding rights and duties. We recognize and accept our infirmity for what it is--an evil, but not of our own making nor a punishment from God. Jesus said of the man born blind: "I~ was not that this man sinned, or hi's parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him" (Jn 9:3). We.do not pretend to know the answer to the mystery of, evil~ but we do have a. realistic response to it. We intend to accomplish what Christ has given us the power to do; overcome it. The idealism of the fraternity can also become a reality because it is :solidly based on evangelical charity and fraternity. Even on a purely human level we recognize that brotherhood involves understanding, interchange, giving and receiving, interdependence. But for us, this human fraternity has been transformed by Christ who, having made himself our brother, calls us to be brothers of one .another and sons of the Father. This Christian family .is one. in which .the smallest, weakest, poorest are the most beloved. In the movement's Charter, five of the seven fundamental principles deal with ~spirit"; the other two explain the structure. Padre Quitapenas literally "took the pain away" when he emphasized: "Maximum Spirit-- Minimum Organization!" ,. Charter Point l: Evangelical Charity Charity as practiced in the fraternity strives to' imitate the qualities of Christ~s~own love. It is universal'becauseit is not limited to a certain ~class of people; it is for all without boundaries, It' is disinterested: Jesus loved us first and was faithful until death. We go out to our brothers without fear of being rejected or misunderstood, not expecting praise or gratitude. It is respect[M: Christ never imposes, always invites. We try to awakefi the other to his own worth and dignity, calling him forth with patience and perseverance. In this prOcess, we come to recognize his true value, and often receive more than we are able to give: Lastly, it is total. As ~'Christians we strive to give the best of ourselves in total dedication;' even to being Willing to give our lives for the other. Christ lived that kind of fraternity~ This point might bring the response: "That's too mu~h to ask!" But it would not be an ideal if it did not ask so much. Striving for such an. ideal causes us to give more than we thought we could. Perhaps more than others, the sick need this kind of presence rather than ideas and words, however beautiful, to keep l~hem from isolation and despair. Where there is solidarity ~200 / Review Ior Religious, Volume ,3,6, 1977/2 there is h6pe., It is a~ if,Christ' said:~"Organize yourselves as,brothers,, treat each other.as such, and obstacles will disappear,,barriers fall and prejiadices 'overcome." So it is that love and understanding which leadSto deep and harmonious relationships are the very soul of the fraternity. ,, Point I1: Dedicated to, All the Sick Without Distinction . ¯ . Because of its nature, the Christian Eraternity embraces all .who are -sick without ~ discrimination of culture, social, status, religion., age, sex or type of infirmity. The fraternity is open to all because each one-is a person ~who needs community. Children, youth, adults and the aged are all welcome ~ in,~the fraternity,,but it is to the young adult that the fraternityr.looks for the :vitality and dynamism needed to carry on its work. Because of-their critical awareness and disillusionmentwith, present conditions, they are willing to take responsibility and work toward change. As one totally paralyzed youth said at. our assembly: "We want a revolution~a revolution of love!" Although the fraterni.ty is a lay,~apostolic movement, in the Catholic Church, it welcomes those of other~faiths, Christian and non-Christian. We -do not come together to discuss,our_differences, .but rather to unite~.our efforts to,build a better worldqn which each person becomes whole. It*should be noted, however, that in forming a fraternity~.'it,i~ important that its. leaders be deeply convinced of the gospel 'message; otherwise, they ¯ could not transmit it to others, o. The fraternity is .not an association or pious confraternity which a. per-son j6ins by signing up.'Rather, the individual ~is meant to 15articipate; ac-cording to his ability, in the responsibilities and activities of the movement, to feel part of the movement. To participate is to live fraternity. This in no way eliminates certain sick people, for example, bed-ridden patients,¯ be-cause the first responsibility of a member of the fraternity.~is,concern for other sick people. This concern can be expressed in many different ways, an important one being our openness to friendship. It is not uncommon that ,a meeting ~or activity is held by a group gathered, around the bed or wheel-chair of a person who cannot'be moved. : ~oint_ I11:, UniIying Contacts The fraternity promotes a. spirit of unity, both personal and communi- ~tarian, among the sick and with the well who wish ~to participate in the movement by offering their friendship and service to the sick. ,.,~. The concept of Christian friendship underlies° all our contacts. Much could be said about the beauty and value of .friendship and the great gift it can be for one,who feels isolated and alone. Suffice,it to say-that the concept of friendship which we try to live consists in: --concern for the good of the other , Sacrificing oneself for the good of the othe]" ~ committing oneself to action for the other. ~ ' ' A Movement Toward Hope / 201 The beginning of'friendship is person-contact; often this contact is made through visits to the sick in their homes or in the hospital. We feel that these Visits should be characterized by attention, respect, esteem and~itedication. The person being visited is unique, therefore deserves undiv, ided attention and sincere interest. We offer it willingly, showing by our attitude that we are more interested in listening to him than in watching the~clock or talking about ourselves. We respect his personal freedom to share or withhold his confidences and friendship. Discretion teaches that we not press our own religio,us:beliefs on him; without speaking of God, his presence can be felt, Through genuine esteem~ we will come to see the personal worth and true value of the person, and will begin to learn what he has to teach us. In giving the best of ourselves to the other, he will gradually know that we have come to help him carry his burden, to make his sufferings our own. Bi~sides promiSing to visit him again, we invite him to our group encounters when he is able to come. The regular fraternity meeting (once a month on diocesan level and oftener, .if desired, on parish level) is a unique opportunity to promote the sick person and to form leaders. A meeting that does not foment the active participation of the sick is a failure and cannot :be called~a meeting of the fraternity. We are not interested in a faultlessly ordered meeting or in num-bers, but rather that those present come of.their own choice and participate actively, .and that the atmosphere be one of warmth which encourages all to enter into dialogue and decision making. Thus the sick person learns the .value of working in a group in which his own opinion and that of others is respected. The meeting consists of reflection: on a gospel passage, b.usiness and usually some socializing. ' Other encounters vary according to the initiative of the group. Some of the more common ones are: workshops, retreat, days, general meetings | (which include all zones, or two. or more zones planning an activity to-gether), liturgies and the Sacrament. of the Sick, picnics, parties, etc. All encounters have as their objective to bring ~the sick together to experience friendship, personal growth and each one's ability to take responsibility for himself and others. Our-friends, the Collaboraiors, are well people who value the ideals of the fraternity, seek to understand the sick person through friendship and offer their services as an expression~of that friendship. We value our relation-ships ~vith ,the well.We need each other and each has something to offer the other. The collaborator learns (through experience as well as in planned workshops) how to be comforiable with the sick, when to assist and when to encourage independence. He or she learns to be present in such' a way as to fill a need unobtrusively. The collaborator may take an active part in fraternity meetings, etc., but should always be aware that leadership in the fraternity belongs to the sick. The support, encouragement and patience of the well often open the way for the less secure handicapped person to come 202 / Review for Religious, :Volume 36, 1977/2 into his own. Specifically, the well may have some talent, learning or tech-nique which can be shared to help the handicapped advance in a particular area~ Other collaborators offer mobility which facilitates the sick person's participation ~.in meetings, activities, etc. These friends, are appropriately called: "Flying Angels"! The sick, in relating to collaborators, grow in appreciation of the ser-vices they receive, and learn to accept help graciously without negating their need or becoming demanding in their requests. As they become friends of the well they soon realize that these, too, car~y the tieavy burden of suffer-ing~ although not a physical one. Often the well person needs to express his own uncertainties, worries, problems, hopes and fears, and finds in his sick companion, a willing listener and grateful friend. The fact that in the fraternity there exists this happy union of the sick and the well proves that, where hearts are open and loving, limitations and differences disappear. Point IV: Integral Development of the Sick Person One of the main objectives of the fraternity is the integral development of the whole person of the sick and physically limited, In Jesus' healing ministry, he always healed the whole person, never dividing him into parts. Just as he was capable of forgiving sins, so could he command the person to stand up and walk (Lk 5: 17-26). The vision of the whole person includes the moral, psychological, spiri-tual, affective, social and physical aspects. Moral and~ psychological re-cuperation often engenders physical rehabilitation, just as the development of the social and religious dimension uplifts the person morally and physi-cally. One compliments the other and all are necessary to facilitate growth. Many examples could be given to show how the inter-action of these vari- "ous aspects have contributed to healing in the person, and the part that a group such as the fraternity plays, As one doctor said: "The fraternity mobilizes a considerable amount of energy in the form of group therapy. which is a powerful help toward complete healing. It is not that an ampu-tated leg will be returned, but that, in spite of everything, the man can be complete, minus one leg?' ¯ Another important break-through comes for the sick person when he realizes that God loves him and accompanys him in his suffering. This in-sight is often ,given him through the human love of others; It .helps him to face the future with more hope and Christian optimism. Point V: Integration Into Society and Active Collaboration in Its Trans- [ormation Another'important objective of the Fraternity is to help its members become fully integrated into society so that they might contribute actively toward transforming it. A Movement Toward Hope / 203 -You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven (Mt5:14-16). Christ invites his disciples to act without fear in the presence of the world so that others, seeing their good works, will know of the power of God within them. As the sick and handicapped grow toward wholeness, they face the dif-ficult task of integrating themselves into their environment: the family, so-ciety, the Church. The fraternity is a movement that discovers the sick, pro-motes them and then returns them (without ever having isolated them) to their community ready and capable of making their contribution. It teaches them to be critically aware of conditions imposed upon them; to see, to judge and to act with Christian vision. False ideas about illness perpetuated by the family can cause the sick one to become a non-person. Families are inclined to two extremes in the problem of handicapped members: over-protection (paternalism) which causes the individual to lose his personality and become the "eternal child"; or, through ignorance and disinterest (abandonment) he is made to feel that .he is an inconvenient burden altering the life of the family. In either case, the sick person may lose interest in everything, including his own personal growth, becoming apathetic and selfish. Society, for its part, would prefer to deny the existence of the handi-capped'person. It sets up protective institutions~which gradually de-person-alize the individual and make him incapable of participating in the rights and duties of an ordinary citizen. In this, the sick person must judge so-ciety and challenge its prejudices, He can,prove that the true value of the person lies, not in physical beauty and material productivity, but in the gift of spirit and life. The fraternity urges the sick and handicappdd to develop their potential and prepare themselves through study, mastering a trade or developing a compensatory faculty, to live an independent life. In many cases, the handi-capped person may be more efficient in some particular area or job than some. well people, but he usually is considered eliminated even from ap-plying.' It is not a question of the sick trying to compete with the well, but of being recognized as persons and given equal opportunities. Many sick and handicapped people may never be able to join the hus-tle and bustle of our work-a-day world, but by their steadfast patience, clarity of thought; ability to listen and look for solutions, and by sharing their deep peace and joy, they can silently transform into light the darkness of our world. The Church, too, must take a new interest in developing and utilizing the spiritual potential of its handicapped members. It is not enough to as-sign them to a life of prayer, precious as that is in itself. Values, sorely 204 / Review for Religious, ~.olume 36, 1977/2 needed in our world today, can be highlighted by the presence of the sick in the Christian community. Reflection on the Paschal'Myst6ry, hope in suffering, spirit-strength in weakness, the value of life over all things, the lesson of obedience, victory over evil, the attainment of happiness and wis- ,dom, the privilege of carrying one another's burden are but a few things the sick have to say to the Christian community. Point 1/1: Team Leadership ~ The fraternify is vitalized by teams of responsible sick and handicapped people. The value of working in~teams is well known by all who have ex-perienced such group effort. Foe the sick person 'the support of a, team is doubly important. Through it, he learns the value of and need for unity, dialogue, sincerity, friendship, vision, and solidarity in action. He discovers that he is important, but not indispensable; he knows that what he lacks another has;' and he learns, through practice, to develop ,his leadership qualities and help others,to develop theirs. Teams of responsible' sick and handicapped people are formed'at the parochial, diocesan, regional and national levels~ These~ in turn, are re-sponsible to an International Team. The teams in their distinctive environ-ment promote, orientate, coordinate and vitalize,' both in depth and geo-graphic extensi6n,!~ the fraternity. A team iscomposed of at least five members: the responsible person, the assistant, the spiritual advisor, a secretary and a treasurer. In order to give as many of the sick as possible the experien6e of leadership, the teams are renewed every two yearsoby election. Most of the sick cannot dedicate full time to the work of the fraternity, but carry out their apostolate over and above their ordinary.duties: In order to begin a Fraternity, a group should have the approval of the local bishop,~ work together,for at least one year and then seek .affiliation through the National Fraternity at a General Assembly. Such7 a fraternity is being established in the United States by a Marianist brother who. previ-ously worked in Peril.1 ~, The teams.,are responsible for planning meetings and other activities, but, more importantly, for. preserving, the spirit of the f~raternity. There are many pitfalls into which the fraternity could fall. Some would make. ofit an enterprise for solving labor problems, a social service,~agency for material assistance, a recreational center where the sick distract themselves or a .confraternity of prayer. It is none of these even though,some aspects of each are. present. Those who. come to the fraternity looking only for personal ,or material gain usually leave disappointed. Many others catch the spark of the true meaning of "fraternity" and are richly rewarded. The fact that the responsible positions in the fraternity are assumed 1Brother' James L. McC~.ffrey, S:M': Cehtral Catholic High School 1403 N. StY' Mar~'s Street; San .Antonio, TX 78215. A Movement Toward Hope / 205 by the sick themselves stamps the :movement as a liberating one. Who better than the sick can 'understand the sick and plan for them? How better can they face their own reality, promote themselves and prepare for taking their ¯ .place in ~.society: , ~. Point VII: The Role of the Minister The Fraternity receives its vital Christian orientation especially from the religious minister,., who is usually a.priest~ but could also be a brother or sister. This person is known in the fraternity as the Assessor. Although the assessor is a member of the governing team, he contributes more by his discreet presence and unifying word than: by his organizational ability~ He is meant to be a. brother to his co~workers, and a friend a.mong 'friends. Often it is his supportive presence that enc.ourages the lay person to fissume his responsibilities; skillfully, he can. draw,.out the more timid ones to express themselves and help them make' their own decisions. His principle task is to direct the team and all members of the fraternity toward a deeper~ understanding of the Christian spirit; and lead them. to seek solutions t6 their,problems in the light.of, the gospel: 'By his own life witness', his word, and sensitive ~attitude, he gives spiritual vitality to the movement a'nd sets the sick on the road to discovery of their own spiritual depth Since the fraternity welcomes one and all, many enter it with little .spiri- ;tual formation; therefore, it' is primarily the religious minister who should be cohScious of their spiritual development: Through talks, worksh.ops, re-treat days and personal contact, he can begin the process of spiritual forma-tion that has so much meaning in the sick person's life. ~, The assessor is appointed by the bishop and is the fraternity:s direct link with the. Church, He seeks to work :with parish priests,, hospital chap-lains and others interested in ministry to ,the sick .in order-to transmit the spirit of the fraternity and develop a pastoral plan for the sick. He l(eeps the fraternity in touch with other lay apostolic movements for mutual en-richment. He is also in a position to heighten awareness in the hierarchy of the needs, iproblems, aspirations anti'activitieS; of the sick in the difcese. More than any of these, aspects, though, it .is his simple presence, his [attitude of service and his inspiring word that makes the assessor a key fig, ure in the fraternity. " ~ Aclivilies . ,~ ¯, Here' I would like to mention a few of the activities.our fraternity groUp in Arequipa (Perti) has undertaken. Through them,'we have tried to reach out;to others in love, and have become fuller, happier people because of it. 1) AnnualFraternity ,Encounter To mark our anniversary each year; we in-vite all the sick and handicapped of~the city to an all-day celebration on the last Sunday of April. It is a gala affair beginning with the arrival of some 300 people ranging from children~ to old folks, many in ,wheelchairs, on 206 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 crutches or aided by a friend. A well-participated concelebrated Mass opens the program. This year, 'for the first time, two of our members were married at~ this Mass. After the Eucharist and formal words of welcome our dedi-cated collaborators serve a well prepared lunch. The afternoon is filled with music, fun and games. The hidden talent of the handicapped is discovered as the blind sing, the old amputee dances with the aid of his crutch, chil-dren recite poems and tell jokes, young people play musical instruments and lead group singing. A special feature of the festivities this year was a soccer game played by young men and women in wheelchairs. Each was given a straw broom and the. action began. We might have been in the stadium watching professionals, so exciting was the game! 2) Reflection Recently seventy-five members of the fraternity gathered for a reflection, day during which we had a. group dynamic which helped us to count our blessings. Each person received a letter from an imaginary friend --"Joe?' In small groups we discussed the letter, and then in a general ses-sion formulated the answer. Unfortunately, "Joe" had been in an accident which left him partially paralyzed and in a wheelchair. According to Joe he had no friends now except the happy, active handicapped person to whom he was writing. (Joe wondered how his friend could :be so happy, anyway!) As for himself, everyone had deserted him and, although his family was nice enough, he knew they were just putting up with him. He was never going to walk again so he might as well be resigned to doing nothing the rest of his life. Joe did sincerely try to think about God but he couldn't understand why, if God were really his Father, he could punish him this way, especially since he didn't deserve it. The priest was always coming around telling him that suf-fering has meaning, but that went in one ear and out the other. Joe pre-tended to listen because, after all, he "couldn't offend the guy." What .he really wanted was to~ hear from his friend who had gone through the same thing and could sympathize with him. In answering "Joe's" letter, his friend reassured him of his friendship and understanding, but urged Joe to open his eyes and see the brighter side of life. Self~pity was blinding him! How could he expect people to come to him all the time? Why didn't he go visit somebody else and make some friends? There are a lot of people worse off than himself right in his own neighbor-hood. He could go around and see if he could help them in some way; or, at least, he could get to know them and talk things over. Joe would find that if he tried to make somebody else happy, he would be happier himself. Next, Joe ought to think about job possibilities. True enough, he couldn't walk but he still had his hands and his head. There are plenty of things he could do with those, but if he didn't put forth a little effort, he'd. never discover what they were. If he feels .useless, he has only~himself to blame. It is too bad Joe can't see any meaning in suffering; his friend sure can! Why, it~ makes a person feel so much closer to other people who are going A Movement Toward Hope through the same thing (without complaining); after all, everybody has something to suffer. It's a,nice feeling to be a real brother to somebody. Joe should know that God isn't going to try him beyond his strength. He is giving Joe the opportunity to stop and think about life and become a bet-ter person if he wants to. Joe ought to remember that God's own Son had to suffer, and by suffering, save the world. Now he's giving Joe a chance t6 do something for the world, too. Sooner or later, Joe will find out that his accident, instead of being a punishment, is a blessing in disguise. About the priest, Joe should'realize that if Father keeps' coming back to see him, it means he wants to be his friend, and he should appreciate that. If Joe really tried to listen, he would learn something. One thing for sure, if Joe doesn't get hold of himself, he'll soon find out that the greatest suffering in life is selfishness. Poor Joe! 3) Radio Programs For many shut-ins and sick people of the city, two weekly radio programs called Fraternity are a source of education and in-spiration. 'The programs consist of background material about the fraternity, letters and testimonies of the sick, information about rehabilitation or spe-cial courses being offered, a spiritual message, and news of,activities, meet-ings, and so forth that are being planned, The unique part of the programs is that they are planned and executed entirely by the sick and handicapped. One of~ the participants is Reyna, a blind girl, who reads her script in braille. To the unknowing listener, Reyna sounds like anyone else, but to her proud friends she is someone special. 4) A Christmqs Project Christmas is a special time for expressing fraternity. Each parish or zone usually has a party which many of the sick attend. Last year, in planning ours, we realized that the house-bound sick, who need the partY ,.most, would not. be able to come. So we decided to take the party to them. Settling on ten people, ~e planned a one-hour visit with each, giving them the choice of the. day and an afternoon hour during the week before Christmas. We packed a party box and wrapped a gift for each visit. The gifts were chosen according to each one's need or specigl interest. The very poor received a basket of food; to old Don Lucho, whose life revolved around the Sacred Heart, went a statue of the Sacred Heart. The party goers were usually four; two handicapped people, one collaborator and the pastor. To begin our visit, we set up a small crib, sang carols, reflected on the Mystery, shared what Christmas meant to us and prayed for Christmas blessings. Then we chatted and had the party with the growing number of family members who gathered as interest grew. Before leaving, we presented our gift. Don Lucho was in ecstasy; no other gift could have mean so much to him. He died two months later gently embracing his Sacred Heart statue. Observations It may not be practical or even possible to apply all that has been pre-sented here in a given situation, or to belong formally to the Fraternity of 2011 / Review ]or Religious, Volfime 36, 1977/2 the Sick. However, I feel that Christian fraiernity is as varied as creative Christians are numerous. Therefor(, the following suggestions may serv6 hs a spring-board for those who owish~ to direct their ministry to the sick in a "spirit of fraternity:" --Approach the sick as "real7 people who hav'e the same needs, aspirations, hopes, desires,, joys and sorrows as others. Respect and love them for what they are and what they can become. --Raise the consciousness level among the sick by helping them to see, judge and act in order to change their own attitudes and eventually transform their ambience. Bring the sick together so that they might become friends.~ In friendship they will learn to appreciate themselves and one an-other more, and, in solidarity, make their contribution to the commtinity. --Reflect and pray with the sick so that they may grow in knowl-edge of the ways of God, and come to understand their mission. (Isaiah speaks beat~tifully of.,God's love for his suffering servant, the mission to which he is called and the reward that will be his.) Share your ministry with the sick; provide opportunities for them to minister to other sick; encourage them to go beyond them-selves, reaching out to others with the sure kn.owledge that the weaker they are the more powder t~hey have to raise their brothers. qsaiah's prophecy, read by Jesus in the synagogue,,is often used to de-scribe the official minister's, role in the Church. I believe that it also ap-plies to those other "servants" who have been tried and corfie forth as gold (Jb 23: 10). They, too, have been commissioned to bring the good ne,~,s to the most isolated and forgotten, the world of the sick. Together with it, ttiey can now carry their own spirit of hope. "The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me; He has sent me to announce good news to the poor, To proclaim release for prisoners and recovery of the sight for the blind; To set at liberty those w~.ho are oppressed. To proclaim the year of the Lord's favour." And he said to them: "This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen." (Lk 4: 18-19; 21)' An Obstacle to Community Waiter J. Handren, S.J. l~ather Handren is now retired. He resides at Loyola Center; 54th & Ci_ty Ave.; Phil-adelphia, PA 19131. Deafness is an illness. If is a malfunction of one of the'~iaarts of the body. it is a depri~/ation, an abnormality, something which can distort other parts of' the human makeup in the person's efforts to compensate for his lack of hearing. As with all other things which affect humankind, deafness has both its physical effects and its social'effects, and, consequ6ntly, its psychological, mental and spiritual repercussions. It causes not only lack of hearing and corisequent isolation, but also bouts° of temper, ignorarlce 6f much of what is happening in the world and tlespondency. It is usual, I believe, when speaking of this affliction, to refer to "deaf-ness" as the total loss of hearing; any "partial loss is called "hard of hear-ing." In this article, for thesake of brevity, I stiall use the word "deafness" only, making distinctions whenever it becomes necessary to explain the na-ture of the case in question. ' "I suppose that I, just iis all other human beings, would be oblivious of the condition of the deaf had I' not suddenly become deaf, that is, become ¯ extremely hard Of hearing,~ at-~ge 65, just at the time that I was retired from a life-long job of.teaching. Having attained the status of "emeritus," I had plenty of time to observe"c~refully all the effects of~a seventy-five percent loss of hearing, to think many long and,seriou~ thoughts, and to come:up with some ideas about it. It is the result of these meditations which I am offering for~your consideration. When'a person suddenly goes deaf late in life there is an added frustra-tion put upon him which, perhaps, may not bother so much thosewho have suffered from a hearing-~defect over many years. All life long he~ has been accustomed to hearing. His reactions those swift, spontaneous responses 209 210 / Review 1or Religious, l/olume 3~,~ 19~77/2 ~ to sound which all normal hearers have, but few notice--have been attuned to hearing properly, and responding promptly. Then, of a sudden,~there is badly impaired hearing, and the quick, eager reaction is checked in mid-air, as it were; because suddenly there is nothing to respond to, and one is caught at a loss. One wants to hear; the strong, immediate drive of one's whole being is to hear and answer, but there is now no hearing, or, at least, not enough to make sense. Even with a l~earing aid this is true for those ~,ith badly impaired hearing. For this frustration to keep recurring day after day is wearing on the nerves and can cause other psychic phenomena such as (apparently) unmotivated testiness, snappishness, or else gloom and brooding. Of course, the religious, trained as he is in the spiritual life, has enough sense to fight against these moods, but they are there, and their tantalizing presence is wearing. The deaf person can no longer enjoy music. If he has been a music lover this becomes a great sacrifice. A person with normal hearing has no proper concept of what it is like to listen to a beautiful piece of music, one which has been loved in times past, and to hear nothing but cacophony: some notes coming through piercingly and others not being heard at all. The result is just noise. Your friends ~annot really understand that. Sym-pathetic or not, they have no idea of your plight; so you avoid music. Nor can the newly deaf any longer enjoy the theater. O~ what use is it to sit,in the dark for two or three hours and watq.h people move about the stage?. In order to know what it is all about you have to read the play after~ wards--if,,you can find a copy. The same holds true for, lectur.es.and at-tendance at large meetings. Most lecturers seem .to speak confidentially to the first row, even though they have a mike before them, and as for qu~es-tions from the floor, there is a dead silence in the hearing aid, as though the' .questioners were afraid of the sound of their own voices. But, ~after all, who are the deaf? About 5:3% of those over 65. use hearin.g aids, and only 0.4% of those under 65. This is a very small seg-ment of the population. Is it really worth a great deal of trouble and ex-pense to try to help such a small group? ~- Even~in conversation a hearing aid is not much good beyond six, feet or so: When~,there is a general conversation with many taking, part, the babel of all those ,voices confuses the hearing aid and iams the receptio.n. This is something else people find it hard to believe. Here they are .shouting at you, from a distance of a few feet and yo.u. refuse to. hear and undeLstand! But all the time the~background noises and the echoes of their well-meant shouts are blocking all possibility of communication. And so the deaf stay away from as many social~g.ath~rings as they can. . Now,~.why all this? After all, the deaf hav.e these~ very expensive~,elec7 tronic gadgets intheir ears, why ca~n't~hey hear as,well as any ~o~ther person? When I was buying my hearing aid the ~technician said~to m~: '~Father, remember this is an aid, .not a replacement for your lost hearing., Nothing can take the place of your own ears, but this will be better than not hear- An Obstacle to Community / 21~1 ing at,all." How very~true! . o A,,.hearing aid is a .small microphone and amplifier, ~, highly . refined but of,-limited.range. Every sound it picks up .is amplified, and it amplifies equally all the sounds it receives. But,.the human voice is the softest of,.all souiids and, thus, all the other~harsh, piercing or overwhelming sounds of our contemporary din-culture are far more penetrating than the human vpice,could ever be. Let me give some examples., .~,~ As I sit 'at ;table with .:a friend, he .may be speaking to me just a few feet. from my hearing ,,aid, yet the clashing and crashing (as it sounds to me) of knives, forks hnd,cro~ckery a few. tables away will jam .his voice out.Or, take .the classroom scene.- The walls are clean and bare, as are the blackboards and ,'ceiling; the floors are polished hardwood, the desks covered with smooth,, hard: writing surfaces all perfect substances for echoing. Then we have the teacher's voice bouncing off these surfaces, anti the. coughs, the scraping~.of feet, the shifting of chairs, the laying down of.lpens; and all the oother~signs of,~life,and activity ,usually found in class, .rooms. Not only these sounds but even the echoes are amplified so that the wearer of the hearing , aid ~ is sometimes drowned in a sea of sound. The human v~oice has a hard time penetrating such a din. ~'. Well, what can°be, done about all this? The first thing that occurs to me is for all~ normal hearers to make themselves conscious of the~ situation. Don;t. think that whoever wears a hearing aid automatically obtains normal hearing~ or'~even good artificial hearing. He has .only avoided, the worst° of his problems; namely, how to hear anything at all. There is a big gap be-tween "tuning in" on the human race, and actually hearing what the human race is saying. There is the further problem of trying, to get the human ~race to speak,clearly, distinctly ands fairly slowly~ so as not to run the~.syllables together. For,. if the second ,syllable comes too hard_upon the first it is drowned,by the echo of the. first, and the third by the second, and s6 on ad conlustonem. Then, too, the normal speaker sprinkles "ifs," "buts,"k,"nots" ~and. many others earth-changing words of small size through-out his speech, to the distress of~ the mechanical, ear. 0 .~. If you wish to communicate with the deaf, .keep ,~ your voice as much as possible at the sam.e pitch, and iiatensity. The i~xp~ressive tonal, changes of emotional, conversatiori will be lost on the unemotional, hearing aid; itqs,,a receiver, not an interpreter. I think that religious houses,could do something abrut the,,decor of ,the places where the commianity gathers, such. asi'ecreation rooms, chapel, dining rooms, and the like. Non-echoing surfaces would be the?desirable thing if the deaf are to be accepted into the confidence of community conversation. It does,take special efforts to communicate with the deaf and each individual must settle his own con-science on the amount of' charity he is willing to exercise in regard to his fellow religious who are poor in hearing: One would think that the predicament of deaf human beings, as I have outlined it, would offer no particular problem to a religious community 212 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 which is supposed to be founded on charity. However, there is a large problem, a~hidden snag, which contradicts all theories. ,The ordinary, evbryday religious.is not deaf, and, therefore~ is not r+minded twenty-four hours a day of the condition of not being able to.hear. And, so, he forgets, ands the-deaf person is forced to the constant, .annoying0practice of re-minding people' of his difficulty. This becomes very tiresome. You would think that the sight of the hearingaid wouli:l be reminder enough, but ap-parently~ it"is not. The deaf person feels about as you would if you had to begin every conversation by reminding people of your weight, or your age. It is just as annoying'to have to keep announcing, one's deafness. And so, we deaf ones tend to "drop .out." We avoid all but necessary meetings with others; we avoid large gatherings; we avoid the theater, the lecture hall, the concert hall, even the TV room; and we end up by~ becoming quite isolated. , ~, This is not so bad for those who love to read, to think, to write, ,to paint, or otherwise lead their own private lives, but itqs not community:~life, and the deaf seem. rather cut off from community. Sitting around-in silence among one's fellow religious is not community; we c'an go, out and take a bus ride to do that! A.further misfortune is that many of the deaf still retain~the gregarious natures God gave them from the start. This isola-tion is especially ~ hard. on them. They. miss the points;'of all the jokes be-cause the point is usually buried in gales of laughter by the narrator and the audience. They miss the~quick, incisive bon mot, for it is usually, delivered in, swift, low tones. They miss the emotional conclusion of a story; because the speaker usually whispers it to himself. We certain.ly cannot consign all the deaf to. the'.oblivion of their ail-ment, no more than we can the elderly, the lame, the blind, or anyone else 'who has .lost ~some.of his physical faculties but not the use of his reason. We are told that due to the excessive noise of our .times (hard "rock," jack hammers; low-flying jets, band saws, power mowers, power leaf-blowers, sirens, diesel.rigs on the road, and all the dreary rest of it) there is.~a growing incidence of deafness seven among the young. If this be true, we can expect 'ttuite a time of it in a generation or~ so: I delayed writing this article for thr6e ~years, nagged b~ the worry that it- was motivated by self-pity. Yet, I really believe that what:I have said needed to be said, and~meditated, and acted upon. The deaf I have knowfi in the past have been very patient, e.ntirely toO'long-suffering, humble people," perhaps despairing of ever being understood, and~they have not made a sufficient case: for themselves. It is' surprising how little has'been written, about deafness and its social effects. I hesitated, then, to write, and argued with myself, until, one day I was discussing the subject with a friend and mentioned my fears. He replied with a laugh: "Don't worry about that. You will not hear what they .say about you, any aWy. , - ~" ?,ome to think,of it, that is one of our consolations. , Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ David ?J. Hassel S.,]. l~ather Hassel has been involved f~r the last six years in the T

Issue 17.4 of the Review for Religious, 1958. ; JULY 15,= 1958, " Unceasing Prayer Venerable Anne de Xainctongb : The General Chapter' ". VOLUME 17 For. Your Information 'J Book Revtews (~uesfions and -~Answe~ Roman Documents about: Religious kit:e ""' ': - :::''~ "> :'~ ': " ~; ¯ Coedu~atlon " °. The Family RI::VIi::W FOR RI:LIGIOUS VOLUME 17 JULY, 1958 NUMnER 4 CONTI::NTS FOR YOUR INFORMAT_ION .193 UNCEASING PRAYER--Edward Hageraann, S.J . 194 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 200 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE-- Sister Marie Celestine, U.T.S.V . 201 PROFICIENTS~WHO DO NOT PROGRESS-- Hugh Kelly, S.J . 211 THE GENERAL CHAPTER--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 223 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 231 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. smith, S.J . 232 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 241~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 20. Baptism in Another Rite and Subsequent Profession . 250 21. Authority over and Direction of Institutes of Religious Women . " . . . ¯ . 251 22. Duties of the Cardinal Protector . 252 23. Idiomatic Translations of Constitutions . 253 24. Moment of Covering the Ciborium at the Consecration . 253 25. Pausing Before Prayers at the Foot of the Alta'r . 25~4 26. Place of the Sign of the .Cross on the Missal . 254 27. Simple Genuflhction Between Consecration andCommunion,254 28. Interference in External and Internal Government . 255 29. May a Superioress Bless Her Subjects? . 256 REVIE~Y¢" FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1958, Vol. 17, No. 4. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval~ Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1958, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard. St. Louis 18, Missouri. For Your Int:ormat:ion Editor's Golden Jubilee FATHER HENRY WILLMERING will celebrate~ the Golden Jubilee of his entrance into the Society of Jesus on July 25, 1958. Father Willmering has been teaching Sacred Scripture to Jesuit seminarians for thirty years. He became a member of our editorial board in 1955. "His fellow editors feel sure that the readers of the REVIEW will join them in congratulating Father Willmering and helping him by their prayers to thank God for the great privilege of spend-ing fifty years in the religious life. Delayed Vocations In the May, 1957, number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (p. 154) we published an announcement at the suggestion of a" priest who was spiritual director to some women who were interested in dedicating their lives to God, but who were ham-pered by the fact that they were older than the age limit for admission in most religic~us communities, ,~ere widows, and so forth. This priest thought it would be very helpful to others, as well as to himself, to know of religious or secular institutes th. at would accept such candidates. Two replies were published in our November, 1957, number (p.342); and a third reply was published in our March, 1958, issue (p. 90). We have recently received a fourth reply from the Daughters of the Paraclete, a group of women who have organized and are taking steps to become a secular institute in the diocese of Little Rock. The Daughters of the Paraclete now have two houses in the diocese of Little Rock. They seek further candidates and realize that these must be obtained from outside the state of Arkansas. Any single Catholic ~voman of good character and good physical and mental health is eligible for entrance. There (Continued on page 210) 193 U, nceasing Prayer Edward I-lagemannr S.J. OUR LORD told us, "We ought always to pray" (Lk. 18:1). His words were echoed by St. Paul when he wrote, "Pray without ceasing" (I Thess. 5~17). Dif-ferent ways of explaining this seemingly impossible behest have often been proposed. I here wish to call to mind .an explanation found in. the ascetical writings of certain French Jesuits from the seventeenth century to the present. What they teach is not, however, original nor exclusively their own. Father Julien 'Hayneuve, S.J., a well-.known spiritual writer around the middle of the seventeenth century, tells us in one of his volumes of meditations that there are three ways of conversing with our Lord: (1) by sanctifying grace, i.e., by being in a state of friendship with Christ; (2) by formal prayer in which we manifest our needs to Him;.and (3) by "this unceasing prayer of which Scripture speaks, that is to say, by a spiritual and divine life that consists a) in doing nothing except by His.spirit, by His orders, fbr His glory, b) in acting not according to the inclinations of nature but confokmably with the inspirations of. grace and according to His maxims, in the same way that He Himself lived on earth and as He desires to live in us, in a word, according to the knowledge He gives us by His lights and interior inspirations" (M~ditations sur la vie de N.S. Jdsus Christ, Vol. I, p. 474). This manner of life we call virtual.prayer. It consists in a complete union of our wills with God, whereby we hearken .to His will expressed not only exteriorly through, the duties of our state of life and the various manifestations of divine providence, but also interiorly tl~rough the movements of grace. It is not an act nor a series of acts but a state, a readi-ness to stop or change what we are d~ing if God wishes it. We are or, at least, we wish to be as responsive to God's will 194 ,I UNCEASING PRAYER expressed through His actual g~aces as a harp to the slightest touch of a master. Father L~once de Grandmaison, s.J., sums it up thus: "Formal prayer differs from virtual in that the latter consists in habitually preferring the will of God ~o our own will . In short, virtual prayer consists in .being docile to. the Holy.Spirit." (We and the Holy Spirit, p. 134) Virtual prayer is, therefore, not a question of intellectual attention, of recollection where the mind is conscious of God, but of habitual, permanent intention directing our wills by God's will, in a word, union of wills. Thus we can be busy,. our minds occupied with intellectual or material work, and yet be praying because we want to do only what God wants us to do and we should cease immediately if we knew He wished us to stop. Father Raoul Plus, S.J'., has practically the same thought when he says: "The state of prayer consists in preserv-ing a pure dntention during the fulfillment of our daily tasks. I cannot have my thoughts occupied with God without inter-ruption. But my will should never be directed towards "any object e~xcept God, ~at any rate as its last end." (How to Pray Always, p. 15) Father Jean Croiset, the spiritual director of St. Margaret Mary, insists on this union of wills: "It is necessary' that while the mind. works, the heart be in. repose and' remain, motionless in its center, which is the will of God, t~rom which it should never separate itself" (The Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, p. 87). We might here add in the words of. De Grandmaison why this state of attentiveness to God's will is termed prayer. "It is truly prayer because it unites us to God, makes us docile to His inspirations, and attunes us to His will of good pleasure-" (We and the Holy Spirit, pp. 122-23). According to Father Jean-pierre de Caussade, s.J., who lived in .the first half of the eighteenth century, perfection will consist in this virtual pray~er, "The more we advance the rciore is God pleased to take it 'out of our power, to produce many acts . In all the different changes both interior and exterior 195 ]~DWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious say always from the depths of your heart, 'My God, I wish what You ,wish, I refuse nothing from Your fatherly hand, I accept all and submit to all.' In this simple act, continued or rather habitual, consists our whole perfection." (Abandon-ment to Divine Providence, Exeter, 1921, pp. 157-58) Jean- Nicholas Grou, the junior of De Caussade by about fifty years, one of the best known Jesuit writers of his time, tells us that the sole object of the interior soul is to glorify God and to love Him. He develops this latter point thus, "To love Him, not by formal acts or by effusions of sensible devotion, but by being effectually and continually devoted to Him, and by entire resignation of her own will to His" (Manual for Interior Souls, p. 93). Grou says that the interior soul is "effectually and continually devoted" to God. This is devotion that St. Thomas defines as "the will to give oneself readily to things concerning the service of God" (II-II, q. 82, a.1)--not just sensible devotion but the deep, substantial devotion of a com-pliant will. In another work Grou devotes a chapter'to virtual prayer. In this chapter, which he entitles "unceasing prayer," he de-scribes this virtual prayer and then gives some examples: "Among the actions that may be regarded as prayer I would include visits of politeness and good manners; I would even include amusing conversations and necessary relaxations of body and mind, provided they be harmless, and carried no further thatx is allowed by Christian pririciples. None of these occupations is incompatible with continual prayer; with the exception of things that are wrong, inexpedient, or useless there is" nothing that the Holy Spirit cannot make His own, nothing that He cannot contrive to sanctify and bring into the realm of prayer." (The School of Jesus Christ, p. 281) As we have said, virtual prayer consists in a readiness to do God's will expressed not only exteriorly but also interiorly through the movements of grace. It is necessary, then, that we be able to discern these movements in our souls. These 196 July, 1958 UNCEASING PRAYER are normally slight illuminations of the intellect and gentle promptings of the will. But are all interior movements prompt-ing to seeming good the work of God? Unfortunately, no. The evil spirit and our fallen nature suggest thoughts that seemingly prompt to good but, as we know from sad experi. ence, result in something bad or less good. We must be experienced, then, in distinguishing between the spirits, between the movements of grace and of nature, so as to accept the former and reject the latter. (See The Imitation of Christ, Bk. III, Chap. 54, "On the Diverse Motions of Nature and Grace.") Father Jean-Joseph Surin, one of the most brilliant Jesuit writers of the first half of the seventeenth century, states that this attention to the movements of grace and nature consti-tutes the interior life (Spiritual Letters, p. 391). In~ this he was but giving the teaching of his famous tertian instructor, Father Louis Lallemant (Spiritual TeachingI 5th Princ., Chap. l,a. 1, sec. 3). : The rule of thumb for distinguishing :~between the move. ments of the spirits, or of nature and grace, is the difference in the immediate effect they have on the soul. In a soul going from good to better the good spirit or grace produces a peace-ful impression like a drop of water falling on a sponge. The bad spirit or nature, on the other hand, produces a slight agita-tion, a slight disturbance like a drop of water falling on a stone. All seemingly good thoughts and desires, then, that cause such an agitation will be rejected as soon as discerned without being examined. As a result, peace of soul will be the climate ir~ which that person lives who is in a state of attentiveness to God's will, who, in a word, practices continual prayer. I say advisedly peace of soul, not peace of mind. Our imagination or emotions may be disturbed violently or we may have trying problems over which to ponder; but all of these are, so to speak, on the surface of the soul. Deep down under all this is peace. De Caussade in his letters of direction is never weary of. insisting on the necessity of peace. For ~example, he writes, 197 EDWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious '-'The great principle of the interior life is the peace of the s0ul, and it must be preser~,ed with such care that the moment it is attacked all else must be put aside and every effort made to try and regain this holy peace, just as, in an outbreak of fire everything else is neglected to hasten to extinguish the flames'" (Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 142). In the midst of work and occupations that can take up our complete" attention, we are praying, yes even with the prayer o'f ~petition,' We all have some great personal desires that mean much to us. We' don't have to express them in wbrds. God ~ees them in our' heart. "De Caussade is never tired of repeating St. Augustine's saying that our desires are our prayers (Migne, P:C., 36: 404): our desire to love God, our desire to grow in a certain virtue, our desire for the wel-fare, spiritual or corporal, of someone dearto us, and so forth. A mother ~hosd baby is ill may be busy with chores around the house or have her attention taken up with some pressing problem, but surely we can say that all the time underlying all this activity is her desire for the recov~ery of h~r child. Besides a few big, permanent desires, we all have also many small, transient ones. We can put all these desires, big and small, into the Morning Offering of-the Apostleship of Prayer and then not think of them again during the da.y. They are not dropped Out .of our hearts. Even though we do not forma[ly. repeat these ',petitions, God sees them in our hearts. . Our desires are our,p.rayers. This virtual prayer can be of great comfort to us when we are assailed by temptations. These temptations seize on our imagination and emotion~, and thus influence us physically. While we are thus very conscious of the temptation, we do not, on the other hand, feel the. act of the will or, bdtter still, the state of our will Which is kept turned toward' God. Yet it is in the will not the imagination and' emotions that. our real self is found. De Caussade refers to this again and again, often telling us to go beneath all this agitation in our sense life and 198 July, 1958 UNCEASING PRAYER emotional life and deep down 'rest with our will united with God's or again,, in a somewhat opposite illustration, .to remain above all this agitation like a high mountain whose peak 'is bathed in sunshine but around whose base the" storm clouds lash furiously (Abandonment to Divine Providence, I3. 119). As. this state of will conformed to God's will is our continual prayer, we "are praying, then, even in the midst of the most turbulent temptations. This constant prayer c~in be a source" of consolation when arresting distractions occur during 6urordinary period of for-mal prayer. Who of ~us' has not experienced and does not continue to experience eveky day the wanderings Of the mind that seem at times to make up such a~large pa~t of the time allotted to mental prayer? ~This shbuld not trouble us as long as our will is habituidly directed toward God. As Father de Graridmaison says: "In virtual pray~.r we' call into action the faculty Over which we have the greate.st controli our free Will. Virtual prayer does not "require favorable mental, emotional, or even bodily dispositions . We cannot always think imagine and feel as we would like. But we can always will that God be glorified and that we be obedient to H~m. (We and the Holy Spirit, p. 123) Of course, when these distrac-tions occur, the sooner we recover ourselves and get back to ~formal meditation the better for our mental pr~yer and fgr the growth in motivation that mental prayer gives. But it is consoling to know that in the midst of our distractions our heart has been praying. I am not recommending this practice of virthal player to all indiscriminately. "The Spirit breatheth where he Gill" (Jn. 3:8). 'Some will prefer to make frequent .aipirati~ns during the day or to lift the mind occasionally to God. Well and good. They should follow this attraction. But others will be found who cannot raise the mind to God, particularly when occupied with mental work. Let them, then," not f~el they cannot be praying. The words we havre written will show them 199 EDWARD HAGI~MANN that, as long as their will is united to God's, ready to obey the slightest indication of His holy will, they are in a state of prayer. In one of his letters Father de Caussade gives the following advice: "During the day try to keep yourself united to God, either by frequent aspirations towards Him, or by the simple glance of pure faith; or better still, by a certain calm in the depths of your soul and of your whole being in God, accompanied by a complete detachment from all the exterior objects of this world. God Himself will.show you which of these three ways will best suit you to unite yourself to Him, by the attraction to it, the taste for it, and the facility in the prac-tice of it which He will give you, for this union is in propor-tion to the degree of prayer to which the soul is raised. Each of these states has its special attraction; one must learn to know one's own, and then follow it with simplicity and fidelity, but without anxiety, uneasiness~ or haste; always sweetly and peace-fully as St. Francis of Sales says." (Abandonm.ent to Divine Providence, p. 142). This third method ot: De Caussade is the virtual prayer we h~ave described in this article. OUR CONTRIBUTORS EDWARD HAGEMANN is spiritual director at Alma College, a theologate for Jesuit scholastics, at Los Gatos, California. SISTER MARIE CELESTINE teaches Latin at Notre Dam~ School, 168 West 79th Street, New York 24, New York. HUGH KELLY is instructor of tertians at Rathfarnham-Castle, Rathfarnham~ Dublin, Ireland. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at kVoodstock Col-lege, W~odstock, Maryland. R.F. SMITH is a member ofthe faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 200 Venerable Anne de Xainc!:onge Sisl:er Marie Celest:ine, U.T.S.V. The story of the founding of the first non-cloistered teaching congregation of sisters. T O EXTEND THE REIGN of Jesus Christ--that is my only ambition--my sublime enterprise." These words of Venerable Anne de Xainctonge echoed the yearn.'ing of her heart for a quest that led her through~ twenty years of suffering and trial and ended in the establishm.ent of th~ first non-cloistered congregation for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgifi, on June .16, 1606. The successful completion of that quest was celebrated in 1956, the 350th anniversary year. When the American religious of the Society assisted on June 16 at a solemn pontifical Mass offered by His Excellency, Most Reverend Joseph F. Flannelly, aux. iliary bishbp of New York, in St. Patrick's Cathedral, their joy and gratitude reflected two Of the striking marks of their foundress's life--her joy and gratitude for her vocation. That vocation is best understood by its twofold achievement, the founding of a congregation without enclosure and her con-tribution to education. Her project brought change to religious life as well as to the world of pedagogy. Today it is as natural to see nuns walking along the streets of our large cities or traveling cross-country to spend their holidays in educational conventions as it is to find them taking part in scientific discoveries or teaching Christ in pagan lands. However, such scenes were unknown in the sixteenth century when nun-educators remained in their convents to impart to a small group of fortunate girls the essentials of Christian learning. The revolutionary character of this new idea--a non. cloistered order for women--can be appreciated by recalling the conditions existing in the days of Anne de Xainctonge. 201 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE Review for, Religious Dynamic changes in the field of ideas were keeping Europe in turmoil and coni~usion. The Protestant Revolt had led to the destruction bt~ schools" and colleges. Religious wars, par-ticularly in France, kept Huguenot and Catholic at bitter odds. Science, through Galileo and Kepler, was interesting men in new discoveries. It was a period teeming with new nationalisms, new adventures, and new literary trends. Henry IV, Sir Walter Raleigh, ai~d Montaigne dr~w admiring i~ollowers to their new endeavors. But if the peridd reflected feverish restlessness, it also prodhced: great figures of true serenity, a serenity acquired by th.e grace oi~ God and adherence to truth. In literature, Shakespe,are and Cervantes; in art, Holbein and Tintoretto; in theology, Bella'rmine and Canisitls--these Were but a fe~ who proved the worth ot~ the old "dducational values. Throughout the century the" Church struggled for reform. Her effort~, especially through the Council of Trent, bore fruit." Saints like Teresa of Avila,. Ignatius, and Francis de 'Sales fought for Christ with new ,weapons on new battlefields. It"was the field of education that challenged Anne de Xainctonge. to plan, suffer for, and reach her quest. The disastrous effects of the Reformation on educatiori had caused the Council of Trent to regtore the ancient discipline for ~thd trainii~g of the clergy, to legislate for the instruction of the faithful by preaching and the printed word, to ar'range for Sunday schools and the reopening of parish schools. France, not suffering the same persecutibn as England and Germany, wa.~ active in applying the i:egulations. ~' ~ If these recommendations, were followed, a new vitality would appear in the faithi~ul. In what way could Anne help? How could she extend the reign of Christ? ¯ Her desire.tosave souls became an overwhelming ambition. Developed.by prayer and nurtured by sacrifice, it was a decisive influence in her life --molding the quality of her spiritual growth and pointing .to its outward expression. 202 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE Actually, it was the. work of St; Ignatius, the most bril-liant of the educational leadersl .which most attracted the young girl. It was the. Jesuit .ideal in training youth which gave Anne the inspiration for her new Society. It was her Jesuit dir.ectors, Father de, Villars and Father Gentil, who prepared and tested her soul for' the difficulties ahead. When at last in. 1606 she formed her congregation,¯ it was the Ratio StuJiorum which she made the basis of her educational system, adapting and modifying it to the needs of gi~:ls, while following its broad lines of method and administration. The work of the Jesuits appealed strongly to Anne be-cause she watched their efforts at close range. 'Anne de Xainc-tonge was born in Dijon, France, November 21,'1567, daughter of Jean de Xainctonge, councilor of Parliament, and Lady Marguerite Colard. The child showed such a keen intellect that her father arranged an educational program for her, in-cluding subjects usually studied by boys. He himself became one of her tutors, choosing religion for his course, just as' his neighbor, ' President ~Fremyot, did for his children, among them the future St. Jane Frances de Chantal. While still young, Anne sl~owed herself a born teacher; for, after her lessons with her father, she would go to the servants and teacl~ them what she had just learned. She was 13eg~nmng to extend Christ's reign. A strong desire to do God's will ~aught her enthusias'm, so that even in an illness declared hopeless, but from which she recovered miraculodsly, she preferred God's will to her cure. 'A hunger for. Holy Com-munion and confirmation made her lea; nothing undone until she had succeeded in receiving both sacraments earlier than usual. This love for God and apostolic yearning made the young girl's decisions firm. When presented to society, ~he followed her mother's desires by dressing richly and taking an active part in the social life of the nobility of Dijon. However, she 2O3 SISTER ~ARIE CELESTINE Review for Religious refused to 'consider a proposal of marriage. Just what her vocation was Anne did not know. Neither marriage nor the cloistered life drew her, but a deep yearning to serve God and save souls possessed her. In the meantime, her confessor al-lowed her to teach catechism. However, he demanded that she put aside her fashionable dress while teaching in the churches or instructing the sick in hospitals. Anne felt that the work of the Jesuits was really extending the reign of Christ in the hearts of boys. Their new college, opened in Dijon in 1582, was adjoining her father's estate. Watching from her window or the garden, ,she was impressed by the new methods, ~he good order of the thousand pupils, and the gay recreations supervised by the masters on the playground behind the school. The more she appreciated their progress, the more she contrasted it with the feeble efforts made in the two or three schools for girls in Dijon, where reading, writing, and needlework formed the entire curriculum. If only a work similar to that 0f the Jesuits could be undertaken for girls! Then the light came. It could be undertaken--and she could begin it! At last, God's will seemed clear. She told her director, Father Gentil, that poor girls had been neglected, since "among us, no one has the courage to use her natural talents to glorify God as you are glorifying Him by yours." ~ Anne realized that for the work she envisioned her religious could not be cloistered. They would need to go out, to churches, schools, hospitals--to reach the rich and the poor --as many children as possible. But--an uncloistered order of women? The quest seemed fantastic. The mere thought of such a congregation would shock sixteenth-century France. Again, teaching was a task despised by people of high society; it was a work relegated to widows or ladies in financial distress, who usually knew little more than their pupils. The girls of poor families attended school until they were nine, while the wealthy had to educate their daughters at home or, if fortunate, send them to a cloistered convent as boarders. 204 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE To. Anne, the thought of teaching was not revolting. It was an apostolate! It was not only a challenge, but an inspira-tion, a means of extending the kingdom. But to form a society, she would need companions. Would any of her friends stoop to the humiliating task of instructing children? Anne began to prepare herself for her vocation by serious study, especially of religion. Soon her parents withdrew their promises of help for the work when they learned that God's will was leading Anne to establish it, not in Dijon, but in Dole, then enemy territory under Spanish rule. Her arrival in Dole, November 29, 1596, was welcomed as an answer to prayer by a group of. young ladies with a similar ambition. However, Dole was to exact ten years of suffering and humiliation before Anne could reach her goal. The history of those years shows h~r in the role of public benefactor--a lone figure digging the groundwork of her society. Most of those who had prayed for a leader lost courage in the face of hardships caused by social custom and family prejudice. For Anne herself, difficulties reached the height of persecu-tion as her father inaugurated violent methods of attack to force his daughter's return. Obliged to submit the plan of her congregation to two different courts of prominent and prejudiced theologians, she convinced them that her project for a non-cloistered community was sound, practical, and of divine inspiration. The battle over non-enclosure was won! Ecclesiastical and municipal authorization paved the way for the new foundation; and on June 16, 1606, there came to life. a non-cloistered congregation for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula. The work grew rapidly in France, Germany, and Switzerland. A few years after Mother Anne's foundation, St. Francis de Sales had to face the same problem of non-enclosure. When, with St. Jane Frances de Chantali he began the Visitation order in. 1610, it was as a non-cloistered community dedicated to the 2O5 SISTER ~IARIE CELESTINE Review :for Religious sick and poor. However, in 1615 Cardinal de Marquemont of Lyons, who had invited the Visitandines to establish a house in his diocese, urged St. Francis dd Sales to change the status of his congregation to one of strict enclosure. The cardinal feared that the fervor of the. religious would be weakened and that dangers would be encountered by their contact with the world. After resisting at first, the bishop of Geneva in humility finally yielded to the .cardinal's request, seeing in it a sign of God's will in his superiors and a means of spreading the work in this modified form to m, any parts of France. The saint admired Mother Anne's work and in 1608 had gone to Dole to see the schools of the Ursules. In 1621 he wrote to Mother Anne, asking her to establish a house in Thonon, Savoy. In requesting it he wrote: I have always admired, honored, and esteemed the works oi: very great charity which your Society practices, whose growth I have always very affectionately desired, especially in this province of Savoy. Relying on the hope 'which the Fathers of the.Society of Jesus have given me for establishing a house here, I have obtained permission for it from her 'Most Serene Highness. But if I have the pleasure of seeing a branch of the holy tree of Sainte Ursule in this diocese, I shall~ try to make known, by all sorts of proofs, the affection I have for it. That is why I beg you very humbly, my very dear Sister, to contribute to this project all you can, in God, not doubting that it is for the greatest glo~-y of God, the advancement and strengthening of many souls in piety, and finally, a very great consolation for those who come first to take part in this good work . Thus, humbly acceding to the wishes of others, St. Francis de Sales gave up his plan of non-enclosure. Mother Anne in an indomitable spirit of perse.verance worked and suffered for twenty years until she overcame all obstacles to non-enclosure. Her work. stood the test of time. The French Revolution could not annihilate it, nor the" laws of 1901 expelling religious from France. This expulsion brought forth new branches in Italy, .Belgium, and the United States. .The American work began in 1901, ~when Right ~Reverend Monsignor.Joseph H. McMahon invited the sisters to teach in Our Lady of Lourdes Parochial School in New York. Then an .academy was opened 206 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE " in 1912, now the Notre Dame School on West 79th Street; the Academy of St. Ursula, Kingston, New York, was begun in 1925. Two parochial schools, St. Joseph's, Kingston, and St. Augustine's, Providence, are conducted by the religious, who also have charge of the Latin Department in Cathedral High School, New York City. Mother Anne's second achievement was her contribution to education. Basing her system on the'Ratio Studiorum ¯ of-the Jesuits, she insisted on the. training of her teachers, a gentle fiimness in discipline, and an arrangement of classes suited to th~ age and ability of, th~ pupils. Her philosophy of education followed logically from her grasp of the-child's nature, a being composed of body and soul, ~stined for the City of God. The goal must be kept in mind, but the nature of the child must not be forgotten. To make the Incarnation real in the lives of the children was her aim. For her, the very end of education was to imitate Jesus Christ, to form Him in the young. "In working with these little souls, we shall do something very great if we keep our interior glance fixed on Jesus Christ." If her am-bition was to form Christ in the students, it was first-to-train, each of her daughters to be another Christ--that the re.ality of the Incarnation, the living of the Christ-life might radiate to o~thers. Her spiritual counsels speak again and again of the "reign of Christ." "I desire with all my heart, to make Jesus Christ reign and live within me." This aim was reflected in her methodsi which showed 'a humanistic approach. Women were losing their souls for lack of instruction; therefore, moral training was of prime im-p? rtance, while the core-curriculum subject wasreligion. One of the points Mother. Anne stressed .was the exacting of work~ according to the child's ,capacity. Individua! recitations, pupil activity, and self-expression to develop the reason were insisted upon.in all but the lowest classes. This practice, proper .to the new institute in 1606, was considered "one of the great pe~da, 207 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE Review for Religious gogical discoveries of the nineteenth century." Plays and pageants were presented to develop oral expression. In the teacher training program, similar attention is giver~ to the individual. The teacher must try to win each soul: by her gay and open manner, to inspire confidence; by a gentle firmness, to correct and exhort; by a personal spirit of sacrifice and abnegation, to serve others. To serve the whole world and particularly those of our sex, to instruct, console, warn, to give good example everywhere, and to pray always for the conversion or perfection of souls--that is the profession of the Ursules, but on condition that it is carried on without affecta-tion, complacency, or vanity . . . simply, humbly, cordially . Such exterior works sprang from a deep Christ-centered spirituality. Every fiber of Anne's being spent itself to extend Christ's reign. Again and again she exhorts her daughters "to spend themselves for the glory of God and to make Jesus Christ reign." Christ living in the Blessed Sacrament was the center of her life. If her desire as a child was to receive the Blessed Sacrament before the usual age; if, as a religious, she planned her pupils' day to end with a short visit to the Blessed Sacrament; and if her guardian angel walked behind her on Communion days instead of preceding her, it was because her devotion to our Lord in the tabernacle was a solid and practical one. It was so deeply practical that, although in dire need in Dole, she had refused our Lord's offer to live on the Blessed Sacrament alone, lest she cease to be a model of imitation for her daughters. Her motto, "Mihi vivere Christus est--et mori lucrum," was a practical rule of action by which she could' give in gratitude for Holy Communion "heart for heart, life for life, soul for soul." Tkus, by building the child's character on conscidnce and love of God, she hoped, to build it high above the petty disputes and local antagonisms. Human interests must transcend the national. In 1956 the Society opened its first foreign mission in Luena, the Belgian Congo, and boasts three nationalitids, including American, among the four pioneers. Mother Anne 208 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAI~CTON(~E had braved the derision of a class:conscious society to devote herself to the poor and ignorant. Her principle of adaptation to new needs has given her Society a framework within which to develop varied educational works. During Cana Conferences, when parents come to the convent for a day of spiritual refreshment, Mother'Anne's daughters care for their children just as she herself 350 years ago cared for the babies in the vestibule of the church to allow their mothers to assist at Mass in .peace. As she urged her daughters to discuss the problems of the children's education with the parents, so the Society's P.T.A.'s hope to serve the same worthy purpose of informing them of their childen's progress in knowledge and virtue. Besides academies and free schools, orphanages are conducted. In Italy a special program is set up to help servant girls, called "Zites," a work dedicated to St. Zita, patroness of .domestic servants. It is a beautiful continuation of Mother Anne's attention to the servants, first as a child in her own home, and later, on a much larger scale. In the United Stat.es, in addition to academies and sch6ols, catechetical work is also done. In Phoenicia, New York, a religious vacation school is open in the summer to the children of the neighboring ~illages. To this restful spot in the Cat-skills comes a group of children from Casita Maria in New York each .year for a few w~eks of vacation. Thus a sixteenth century educator may be called modern because her principles have a universal appeal' and allow for adaptation. To see the child with his charm and weakness looking up to God--to see God in His infinite fatherly love bending down to the child--is .to see a picture of the educa-tional process in Mother Anne's mind. To help the child reach up with hands and head and heart--to plead .with the Father" to bend lower to lift up the child--that is a picture of the teacher's role in Mother Anne's plan. To carry out ~his plan, 'this quest of saving souls, the Venerable Anne de Xainctorlge established a non-cloistered 209 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE teaching order for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgin. She made that Society able and re.ady to meet new needs and new conditions. Charted by .unchanging principles, it can face the challenge of e~ch century on. the path of its unending quest. Last year, its 350th anni-versary, each haember of the Society, whether in Europe, the United States, or Africa, dedicated herself anew to that quest in the words of her venerable foundress, "To extend the reign of Jesus Christ--that is my only ambition--my sublime enterprise." For Your la[ormation (Continued from page 193) is no age limit beyond that of common sense. There are no special financial or educational qualifications. In the apostolate of the Daughters of the Paraclete, there is a place and. a work for all--nurses, teachers, o~ce workers, domestic workers, and so forth. Requests for further information may 'be sent either to: Most Reverend Albert L. Fletcher, D.D., 305 West Second Street, Little Rock, Arkansas; or to: Miss L. A. Manes, Para-. clete House, 802 Center Street, Little Rock, Arkansas. The Catholic Counselor Our attention has recently been called to The °Catholic Counselor, a magazine that has just finished its second year of publication. The purpose of this periodical, ~is describdd on its masthead, is: "To act as an organ of communication for Catholics in the field of guidance. Spdcifically, the staff plans through The Catholic Counselor (1) to develop knowledge and interest in Student' Pdrsonnel Worl~ in Catholic Institutions; (2) to serve as a forum of expression on the mutual problems of Catholics in counseling; (3) to foster the. professional growth of Catholic guidance workers by membership in the A.P.G.A. (Continued on page 222) 210 Prot:icien!:sm Who Do No!: Progress I-lUgh Kelly, S.J. FATHER, I have not been making any advance in my spiritual life for some time past. In fact,' I seem to be going back. I seem to have lost much of that fervor I had in my early days in religious life. I have no longer the sense of God's presence I had formerly, nor the desire to sub; due self and to make progress in prayer and in the interior life. I have made efforts to get back again to my former state of fervor but with pool results. I am much discouraged and do not know what to do." There are few priests with any experience as retreat masters or confessors of religiofis who have not heard such a complaint often. These are complaints which a priest must take seriously as they come from a real anxiety and are a strong appeal for help. What is the truth of that diagnosis? Has progress really stopped? Has there been deterioration? Has the desire of' advance grown slack? It may well be that these questions can be answered in the affirmative and that there l~as been delib-erate infidelity and a slacking in the duties and practices which are the condition of fervor. In that case the problem is easily solved; the religious ha~ but to resume his forme~: fide.lity. At least this is the necessary preliminary step. Whether it is the only step and can remedy the situation will depend on other questions. But let us suppose there has not been conscious, deliberate neglect; and the religious can be fairly certain of this. ~ What, then, is the cause of the state in which he finds himself and which he diagnosed so accurately? There has been a great change. The soul is at a loss, is much discouraged, a~d is sorely in need of help. How is a priest to deal with such a case? 211 HUGH KELLY Review for Relig.ious As a help to a solution let us put the case in professional language!. We can say that the religious in question has passed through the stage of beginners and is well within the ranks of the proficients. The division of souls, seriously living the spiritual life, into beginners, proficients, and perfect is strongly traditional and is natural and easy to" understand. It is based on the different measure of charity which the soul possesses. The first class 'consists of those who possess charity and whose chief concern is to secure it firmly against that which would destroy it, mortal sin. In the next class, the proficients, are those who have consolidated charity in their souls and whose concern is to develop it and integrate it by the addition of the other virtues which it needs for its full growth and flowering. The perfecf are those in whom charity has got its appropriate extension and depth and whose concern is to live a life in which all xhe activity is dominated and controlled by charity. There is scarcely any need to note that within each of these main divisions there ale many minor steps or stages. The division has this advantage that it denotes the two main ideas--that perfection is a movement, a progress with definite stages, and that it is measured by charity. To return now m the definite case we are considering-- we can say that the. religious in question has passed from the stage of beginners to that of proficients. We may say that the early years of religious life are the stage of beginners, that period when the young religious learned to live well the new way of life on which he had entered. The period would be considered to last up to the final profession or to some years: beyond it. At this stage the religious has abundant help and guidance. from his spiritual superiors. Assuming that he was reasonably faithful and generous and thus corresponded substantially with the training, we can say that at the end of this period we have one who assuredly is not yet perfect, but who is emphatically a good religious; one who is observant and edifying, diligent and obedient; one who has learned the place of prayer in life; 212 I July, 1958 PROFICIENTS~WHo DO NoT'PROGRESS who has reached a considerable degree of union with God; one who has peace of soul and delicacy of conscience; in a word, one who is happy and successful in his vocation. Clearly, a definite stage has been passed through with credit. A Spiritual Crisis But now there comes a change; there comes a halt to the advance; or at least the sense of progress is no longer felt. The motive power which carried the soul forward to this stage of the spiritual life seems suddenly to fail, and the whole growth and activity of the soul seem to come to a standstill. What is to be done to counteract the paralysis and to set things moving again? "Only too many religious lose courage, remain passive, unable to extricate themselves from the morass in which they are held. Perhaps they ask for advice and help and get none. There was never a moment in their religious life when they needed help so sorely; if the help does not come, the whole of their future life will be much the poorer. Only too many religious find themselves in this condition. Hence, we have only too ,often the disturbing phenomenon of a spiritual life which began well, which showed progress for the early years and then petere~t out into mediocrity and dis-illusionment. The early hopes have not been fulfilled; the dreams and right spiritual ambitions have faded away in early middle age. A career that promised much for God has been some way blighted. The religious we have envisaged at the opening of this paper has reached such a crisis in the spiritual life. He needs guidance and encouragement. A'director or retreat master who takes his work. seriously cannot shirk what is his duty; he cannot refuse to stretch out a helping hand, to ~ndicate ¯ some means, to give some helpful direction. What, then, is a director to do in the face of this situation --that of the religious who has quickly and successfully trav-ersed the first stage and then stops and comes to a standstill; whose initiative and motive power seem to fail, to be stricken 213 Review for Religious with a mysterious paralysis? The first thing the director must grasp and which he must make clear to the religious is that the soul has now entered into a new stage in which the main con-ditions are quite different from those of the previous stage. The conditions which determine the life of the proficient are very different from those that the beginner had to deal with. What will ohelp t.he one may harm the other. "When I was a ~hild I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought .as a child" (2 ~or. 13:11). Proficients are no longer children; but they do not realize that they have changed, and they con-tinue to speak and think as children; they have not yet put away the things of.a child. The first, perhaps, of the new conditions to be reckoned with is that there has been a weakening of the desire of' per-fection-- which is the motive power of spiritual advance-- Owing to the "fact that it has been enfeebled by certain faults or maladies which belong particularly to this stage. The faults are "interior, 'often. scarcely perceptible and henci~ not com-batted; but they exercise a powerful adverse influence on the condition of the soul.--These faults and adverse tendencies may bd reduced to four. 1. The. soul is secretly pleased with the progress it has made and unwittingly is inclined to relax in its desires and to rest on its oars. And it is a fact that much Progress has been made which the soul cannot help seeing. A worldly life has changed its directioni many external faults have been elim-inated or Controlled; many ,~irtues and good practices have been acquired; the soul has reached a considerable degree of familiarity with God and enjoys the peace and satisfaction which comes from being rightly orientated toward its true end~ and supreme good. These feelings and considerations which are well founded may come to leave a certain feeling of satis-faction or even of complacency, a half:accepted idea that the progress, which is undeniable, is due in a good measure to 214 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS--WHo DO NOT PROGRESS one's own efforts. In that way vanity may be nourished subtly, and any such feeling is a hindrance, to a'.true advance in "charity. 2." Moreover, that complacency may be further fed by the idea that the chief obstacles to a fervent rel!gious life have been alreddy overcome. It is a fact that no s~rious faults' are now visible, that no new conquests are to be called for. The religious has been well trained, no doubt at the cost bf many sacrifices, to fit smoothly into his r~ligious life and is clearly an edifying, observant, diligent member "of his community. What more can-be reasonably expected? He does not 'see 'in what direction he is to direct his effort~. But therd :precisely is one of the new condition~ he has not taken account of--that the faults are hidden, that khe ol3jectives are not ~)isible, that ~he soul simply doe~ not see its way. . 3. It is 'normal, too, that'sby thi~ time'wo~k and activity play a large, part in the life of ~he're}igious ~ve are considering; b)~ now h~ will' h~a~,e ~ound the a~prop~:iate exe~:cise of .his gift~, B~) that ~ery fact he is e.xpose~d to a fault, which the old spiritual writers called effusio ac/ exteriora~an e~cessive pr.e-occupation with external things. This religious has come to see how he can serve God effectively; he do~s his work well, "is deeply .interested in it. That activity, as an essenti~il part of his vocation, was 'meant inGod's design to b~ a potent ~ans of sanctification, to be a school of certain virtues which could not be learned easily 'in :another school. If the work is not carried, on in this spirit, it will affect "the 'spiritual condi: tion of the.soul. Joy in successl in ~ongenial adtivity, in the praise and recognition which" follow a job.w~ll done, " these tend to'produce a feeling of ~exaggerated self-satisfaction~, a certairf conceit, a sense of one's own value,, a self-assurance, an exigency in one's demands and in time will produce an atmosphere of soul in which purity of heart, detachment, meekness, which arethe interior equipment of the apostle, will not flourish. Here, then, is another of these new conditions which must" be taken account of if there is to be true spiritual'progress. 215 HUGH KELLY Review for Religious ~4. 'If the faults mentioned are really at work and having their effect, then we must conclude that the prayer is not what it should be for the simple reason that if the prayer were right it would prevail over the adverse in.fluences. A true prayer would give light to keep the goal in view steadily; it would unmask hidden faults; it would give strength to overcome them and to make the effort necessary to advance. Hence, we may say confidently that the most important of the new conditions which have not been recognized is that the prayer has not kept pace with the other advances, that it is not the prayer appropriate to the present spiritual state. The religious may have clung to the type of prayer he was taught at the beginning of his religious career and which he may well have outgrown. A prayer that is predominantly active, meditative, that deals largely in reasoning, comparisons, formal definite resolutions, is assuredly a most useful prayer for beginners but not necessarily for proficients. It may well be that the prayer has b~come formal, superficial, that it is not sufficiently interior and does not give that light and unction that the sohl needs in its :present state. Other reasons, operative in individual cases, .could be ,mentioned; but those given are generally found and are suffi-cient .to account for the phenomenon we are considering-- that is, a religious who began in the best dispositions, who went through the first stage with generosity and courage, who had reached a cr.editable stage of union with God, and who then seemed to slow up and make little further progress. And then--perhaps in the course of a retreat such a religious comes to realize his state---he will experience a deep feeling of dis-couragement, a feeling of. paralysis of one who knows that there is something seriously amiss but who cannot say what it is exactly and hence cannot do much about it. If he does not get the guidance and help he needs now, he is likely to lower his spiritual aims and settle into an abiding mood of frustration and disillusionment. 216 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS --- WH0 Do NOT PROGRESS The Remedy So far we have attempted a diagnosis of a malady and a mood common to souls." who have reached the degree of proficients. They are the proficients who have ceased to pro. gress. We may now attempt something in the way of remedy or prescription. The first step of the director should be to point out to the religious that he must realize that he is in a new stage, that the whole nature of the struggle has changed, that he had been clinging to .the things of a child now that he has ceased to be a child. The methods of the previous stage have done their work, all that they were meant to do; but they will not serve in the new stage. Now there is question of new obstacles, new means, new kinds of virtues to be cultivated. The frustra-tion experienced is due to the fact that the conditions of one stage have been retained "for a stage for which they are not suitable. ~ Speaking generally, the spiritual life must now become more interior. The struggle has now been transferred to a deeper region within the soul. The whole spiritual lit:e must grow in intdriority. And first of all the soul must come to a deeper knowledge of the implications of the call of Christ, to a truer realization of the.depth of renunciation contained in His invi-tations. "If any man will come after me, let him deny him-self" (Matt. 16:24). Had the soul come to know the full force of the word deny, that it is the word that is used by the gospel to indicate the action of St. Peter in the Passion--that it implies an entire repudiation and rejection! When Our Lord spoke the words, "Unless the grain of wheat falling into " the earth die, itself remaineth alone" (Jn. 12:24), He spoke of His own Passion and indicated the measure of His sacrifice; but He also gave some idea of what He expected from those whom He called to follow Him. No doubt something of that renouncement was already understood by th~ religious, but how imperfectly. I2Iis words contain depths of renunciation 217 -HUGH KELLY Review for Religious which are revealed only slowly and as a result of much purifi-cation of soul. The. invitation., "Come follow Me," contains many~ degrees of imitation and proximity. Purity.-- Dod.lity The chief means by which the soul is to reach to this interi.ority are, according to L. Lallement, greater purity of heart and greater docility to the .Holy Spirit. Greater purity of heart presupposes a-greater knowledge owfa sth ceh ifeafulyl tcsg oncf etrhnee dh'e waritt.h I nac tthioen psr, eovri oaut sle, asstta gwei tthh e't h,roeu~glihgtiso ours feelings that might be .considered as .venial sins, and the examina-tion of conscience was instituted with a view to confess them as such. But now the examination must probe more deeply. There is a whole stratum of tendencies, instinctive movements, automatic reactions, which indicate the p.resence of that self which is the center of resistance to God's advances. Self-examination must now penetrate to this hitherto unknown region~in which'will be fo~und ~i self that is wayward, dissipated, full of the ¯seeds of sin and ~evolt and which¯ must be controlled before there can be any true domination of charity. Such a purification must be systematic and must cover the heart, the imagination, and the judgment. The heart obviously needs such a fine purification seeing that it is the source of countless movements and affections which cannot be left uncontrolled, because they ¯exercise a strong in-fluence on the.decisions of .the will. These movements are the obscure stirrings of inordinate self-love in some of its manifold manifestations--little indulgences, almost-instinctive preferences,, resentment.s, impatiences, little acts of selfishness of one kind or another. "Fie on't; tis an unweeded garden." It cannot be ¯left to the weeds; it must be cleared and cleansed if it is to be brought under the sweet rule of charity. The imagination no less than the heart needs its own systematic purification. This is the faculty which St. Thomas called 218 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS---WHo DO NOT PROGRESS domlna falsitatis, the mistress of the false.;, and it can very seriously trouble the soul by its vain and foolish images and fancies. Such a source of dissipation and distraction is a chal-lenge to the spirit of prayer or to peace of mind. The purification of the judgment is still more necessary because its acts are more ddliberative. We find ourselves almost instinctively passing judgment, on people, on actions~ ¯ on motives, judgments which are often wrong, ungenerous, suspicious. If such a tendency is left unchecked, it will make fraternal charity a very difficult thing. Such a systematic effort of purification, deeper and more searching than was called for in-the beginning of religious life, is necessary at this stage. The kind of examination which sought out .sins or exterior faults will be ineffectual now. Such an interior purification our Lord aims at in the preaching of the Beatitudes; these are the virtues which .give the disposition of heart necessary for a generous acceptance 9f His new religion. There is another region of the spi.ritual .life which calls for purification, one which is more hidden, more unexpected. even than any we have yet considered. The very spiritual life, of beginners is often full of unconscious self-seeking. In their spiritual practices they seek their own satisfaction; they look for consolation and sensible devotion in their prayers; they ar~ attached to certain, methods or forms of prayer. And their activity in spiritual things ,can produce such faults as vanity, jealousy, arid a sense of superiority over others. St, John of the Cross has devoted a long section of the Ascent of Mount Carmel to a close analysis of such faults: The control of these is the fruit of different stages of the dark. night, some of them being eliminated by the effort of the individual aided, of course, by grace, others .being so deep-seated, so well hidden that they yield only. to the action of infused prayer in the passive night of the sense. Of the second necessary condition mentioned by Lallement, docility to the Holy Spirit, it is not necessary to speak at any 219 KELLY' Review for Religious great length. "According to the instruction of our Lord, the Holy Spirit is by attribution the master of .the interior life. Describing His function our Lord said, "He will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind whatsoever I shall have said to you" (Jn. 14:26). The Paraclete was thus to teach in-teriorly what our Lord had taught by word of mouth to the apostles, opening their hearts sweetly to the fuller depths and force of His teaching. All movement in the spiritual life will be His concern, but He will be particularly active when the spiritual life is to grow more deep and interior. The finer purification already spoken of will be achieved only by His special presence. But the work of the Holy Spirit is not merely or chiefly the negative one of purification; it is still more a positive formative activity--to supply the light needed to get a deeper grasp of the spiritual life and the strength to live up to that light. The general results of this assistance of the Paraclete can be indicated here only in a summary way; they may be said to consist in a new enlightenment in three points. (I) The Holy Spirit will give a deeper understanding of the theological virtue of faith--a better realization that it is faith alone which gives us "the true and loving God" and is the true and unfail-ing approach to Him in every stage of the spiritual life on earth. (2) Again the Paraclete. will lead the soul to a kind of prayer which the soul has need of at this stage of its ad-vance. It is a prayer of great simplicity which will be nour-ished interiorly chiefly on the words of the gospel and the liturgy, the mysteries of Christianity, a prayer which opens up the teaching of Christ in such a way that it yields its sweetness and unction more abundantly. St. Ignatiu~ has described this prayer as that which enables the soul sentire et gustare res interne, . to get the true inner savor, of spiritual things. (3) But the action of the Holy Spirit will have as its chief aim to reveal Christ more fully; to make the soul realize better His role in the spiritual life. "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No man cometh to the Father but by Me.': (Jn. 14:6) 220 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS---WHo DO NOT PROGRESS A real, practical acceptance of this cardinal truth is the c-o-fi-dition and measure of advance at this stage. And it is to" be kept in mind that this is the function attributed to the Paraclete that our Lord stressed. "But when the Paraclete cometh---He Shall give testimony of Me" (Jn. 15:26) and again "He shall glorify Me because He shall receive of Mine and shall show it to you" (Jn. 16:14). The Holy Spirit is sent, then, to give testimony to Christ, to His transcendant role in the gpiritual life as the unique medium by which the soul can attain its supreme good and last end; and this is to glorify Christ by showing His true greatness. The spiritual perfection of the soul is constituted by union with Christ in charity. The stages toward this goal are marked by a fuller realization of the part which Christ must play in this advance; and, consequently, a more perfect exercise of faith and charity. The end of the process is expressed by St. Paul, "And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me" (Gal. 11:20). It ¯ was expressed still better by our Lord Himself as He was enter-ing on His Passion, "That they all may be one as Thou Fatl~er in Me and I in Thee; that they also may be one in Us" (Jn. 17:21). The stage of the spiritual life we have been considering, that of proficients, is simply the study of the fuller action of Christ and His Spirit at a specially critical moment. This divine action is, of course, essential in every step, even at the first; but it is deeper, stronger, more interior in the later 'and higher stages. The soul we have been considering depended on the grace and example of Christ even for its first steps. But advance beyond this initial stage calls for a more powerful aid. To qualify for that newer assistance the soul had to dispose itself by a deeper and finer asceticism. Without that special prepara-tion it could not have caught the breath of the Spirit which Christ was to send, the new impulse without which it would have languished ineffectively, if not a wreck, at least a failure. 221 HUGH KELLY From the foregoing pages it is hoped that it will appear that the division of the spiritual life into beginners, proficients, and perfect is not merely a theoretical matter, the concern of professors and historians. They are the actual stages through which, normally, all souls pass who try to realize the great design for which God has created them and for which He has given them His Son to be for them the way, the truth, and the life. It should then be clear also that the priest who is director or retreat master should have a workable knowledge of these di-visions. He is certain to come across souls who are going that way, who need his guidance and help at moments when such assistance may make just all the difference in the world. For Your Informal:ion (Continued from page 210) [American Personnel and Guidance Association- and (4) to encourage cooperation among Catholic Guidance Councils on local and regional levels." The subscription price is $1.00 per year--for three issues, autumn, winter, an~d .spring. Subscriptions should be sent to: The Catholic Counselor, 650 Grand Concourse, Bronx 51, New Yo~'k. Good Spiritual Reading? A superioress would like to obtain"a helpful list of worth-while spiritual reading books for a community." She refers to currently published books, not to the old masters. We do our best to supply such lists through our Book Review De-partment. It has occurred to us, however, that the suggestions we make in that department might be supplemented in a very practical way if our readers would send in brief communications about books they or their communities have found helpful. If you wish to recommend a book that you or your com-munity found helpful, please address your letter, to: The Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. And please type the letter, preferably triple-spaced, at least double-spaced. 222 The eneral .Chapt:er .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. QUESTIONS AND CASES are frequently received on the general chapter. A coml~lete article on this matter would. be of prohibitive length. It would also be excessively de-tailed and technical. We believe that ~he practical purpose of such an article will be better attained by presenting the matter under the form of questions and cases. The following ques-tions are the first part of a series. I. Delegates 1. According to our constitutions, a former brother general is a mem-ber of the general chapter in virtue of this office that he had held. A former brother general is a member of our house, but he is not the local superior. The hl)use elected him as delegate to the general chapter. Does he have two votes in the general chapter? No. Anyone may be elected in a chapter who is not excluded from the office in question by canon law or the par-ticular constitutions. Canon law does not exclude the election of anyone as delegate because he otherwise has the right of membership in the general Chapter in virt'fid~"of hi~ office or from some other title, nor do the constitutions of lay institutes enact any such ~general exclusion. These constitutions also do not ordinarily .forbid the election of a former superior general as a delegate. Unless there is such an exclusion in the present constitutions, the election is valid. However, this. brother will have only one vote in the general chapter. It is certain from canon 164 that no one may cast many votes by reason of many titles to vote, e. g., a brother may not c,ast two votes in the general chapter because he is a former brother general and an elected delegate from a province or house or because he is a general councilor and also a local superior. It is not 'certain, even. though the wording of the. canon favors the contrary opinion, tl~at one may not cast many votes when the one title gives the right to many votes, e. g., if the constitutions give 223 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious the superior general or provincial two votes. The constitutions of lay institutes *do not make such a grant. A religious may cast his own vote and another as proxy for another elector when the constitutions or customs permit voting by proxy, which is excluded with practical universality in the constitu-tions of lay institutes (c. 163). 2. Doesn't canon law deprive of active voice one who had been a Catholic, joined a non-Catholic sect, returned to the faith, and had been admitted to the noviceship of a religious institute with a dispensation from the Holy See from the impediment, to entrance? The question is based on canon 167, § 1, 4°, which reads: "The following are excluded from voting: Those who joined or publicly adhered to'a heretidal or schismatical sect." However, it is a safely probably opinion that the dispensation to enter the noviceship removes also the disability of canon 167, § 1, 4"°. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 164-65; Schaefer, De R~- ligiosis, n. 493; J.one, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 171. 3. When we elect a delegate, may we instruct him whom he is to vote for and what proposals he is to vote for in the general chapter? You may not do this unless it is permitted b)) the particular law of your institute. The very few institutes that do permit this also contain a provision of the following tenor: "Ttie com-munity represented by a delegate may give him instructions regarding the election and other matters to be discussed either at the provincial or general chapter, but the delegate remains free as to the exercise of his vote for the interests of the con-gregation." 4. Is a delegate to a general chapter obliged to' accept proposals from other members of the institute? When the constitutions give prov.inces, houses, or individuals the right to make proposals, a superior or delegatd must accept the. proposal and submit it to the general chapter; but he is not obliged to promote or vote for the proposal in the chapter. If the right '.is not granted, individuals may suggest propogals 224 July , 19fi8 THE GENERAL CHAPTER to members of the chapter; but there is no obligation to accept merely suggested proposals. Anyone who makes a proposal should study carefully and even consult as to whether the pro-posal is well i:0unded and prudent. Careless, groundless, and extraneous proposals can waste a great deal of time in the chapter. II. Preliminaries 5. Our constitutions speak of the "election" ot~ local superiors and other officials by the superior general and his council. Is this an accurate expression? An election to an office in a religious institute or society of common life is the designation of a person made in a chapter. The designation to an office made by a superior alone or with the consultive or deliberative vote of a council is not an election but an appointment. The latter is frequently called an election in the constitutions of lay institutes. It is not such and is not governed by the norms on elections. 6. How long should a general chapter last in a lay congregation? Constitutions appr6ved by the Holy See state that the general chapter is not to be prolonged beyond a reasonable length of time but that no precise limits can be fixed for its duration. It is obvious that the duration will vary according to the number and importance of the matters proposed to the chapter of affairs;and it is evident also that the chapter should not be so rushed and abbreviated that it fails to perform its duties properly, especially as regards the chapter of affairs. The constant brevity of some chapters creates a suspicion that insuf-fi~ ent attention is given to the chapter of affairs. Bastien states thh~ the chapters of lay congregations, outside of particular arid~ exceptional circumstances, will last five days. (Directoire Canonique, n. ~291) This would give three full days t~or the chapter of affairs. Apt 'and careful preparation, the mimeo-graphing and previous distribution of reports, and capable direc-tion by the president will expedite the chapter and render it more efficient. 225 ,JOSEPH F. ~ALLEN Review for Religious 7. Our constitutions impose a retreat of one day before the general chapter. We believe that the retreat would be more helpful if made after the preliminary sessions and immediately before the election of the superior general. May we change the time of the retreat without securing authority to change the constitutions? Yes. The time is a completely accidental part of this law, and there is a sufficient reason for changing the time in this case. A day of prayer is most helpful for the quiet of soul and purification of motives that are necessary for any election, arid these effects are mo~e apt to persist undiminished when the retreat is made immediately before the supremely important election of the superior general. 8. What is the meaning of the article of our constitutions regarding Mass on the day of the election of the superior general, i. e., "If the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be that of the Holy Spirit"? The constitutions of lay congregations almost universally prescribe that Mass is to be oi~ered on the day of the election of the superior general in the house where the chapter is held. The intention usually specified is for the election of the superior general. Sometimes this intention is for all the work of the chapter. If the former intention is designated, it is to be coun-seled that Mass or Masses be offered on the following days for the other works of the chapter. The constitutions, with the same universality, exhort all the capitulars to receive Holy Communion at this Mass for the same intention. Even if the wording of the constitutions imposes this Communion as obligatory, it is to be interpreted as merely exhortatory (c. 595, § 4).° If the rubrics permit, the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit is to be the one used, since this is the traditional Mass for an election. It is found at the end of the missal, in the first series of votive Masses, under Thursday. If the ordo of the place of celebration permits, this Mass is ordinarily to be celebrated as a private votive Mass. It may be low, sung, or solemn. Private votive Masses when sung are forbidden on any double; any Sunday; on the privileged ferias (Ash Wednesday, Monday- Tuesday-Wednesday of Holy Week); on the privileged vigils 226 July, 1958 THE GENERAL CHAPTER (Christmas and Pentecost) ; within the privileged octaves (Christ-mas, Easter, and Pentecost); and on All Souls' Day. When read, they are forbidden also. on ferias of Lent and Passiontide; all vigils; ember days; Monday of Rogations (before Ascension) ; Dec. 17-23; Jan. 2-5 and 7-12; and Ascension-Vigil of Pente-cost. This Mass has no Gloria nor Gredo, occurring com-memorations and orationes imt~eratae are included according to the usual norms, the preface is proper, Benedicamus Domino is used at the end, and the last Gospel is that of St. John. If the election occurs on one of the forbidden days, the local ordinary may be requested to grant a solemn votive Mass. The election of a general or provincial superior is sufficient reason to give this permission. This must be a sung or solemn Mass. It is forbidden only on feasts and Sundays that are doubles of the first class; the privileged ferias (Ash Wednesday,.Monday- Tuesday-Wednesday of Holy Week) ; the privileged vigils (Christ-mas and Pentecost); within the privileged octaves of Easter and Pentecost; and on All Souls' Day. The rite of this Mass is the same as above; but there is a Gloria, Gredo, Ite, Missa est, and only imperative commemorations and orationes impera-tae/~ ro re gra~i are included. For greater solemnity, ~his Mass may also be requested on days when a private votive Mass is permitted. If neither type of votive Mass is possible, the Mass of the Office of the day must be said or sung. 9. An article of our constitutions states: "The superior general or, in her absence, the vicaress shall present to the members of the chapter a report of the m.aterial: personal, disciplinary, and financial status of the entire congregation and of all matters of greaier importance" that have occurred sim:e the last general chapter. The report is to be drawn up by the procurator general. It must be approved by the general council, who sign their names to the report before the celebration of the chapter." Does the procurator general draw up this entire report? No. The only part of the report that is drawn up by the procurator, bursar, or treasurer general is the financial section. All other sections of thd report are compiled by the mother 227 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious general herself. The material section under its economic or financial aspect appertains to the procurator, under an aspect such as the opening and closing of houses, to the mother general. It is evident that the personal and disciplinary state of the institute does not appertain to the office of the procurator general. 10. In the several general chapters that I have attended, I have found the reports of the brother general very fatiguing. What can be done to eliminate this difficulty? Since the reports are of the state of the entire institute, they can evidently be very long and detailed. The mere reading of such reports will be fatiguing to the capitulars; they will not grasp many of the details and can very readily fail also to perceive the general state of the institute or at least the content of some sections of the reports. The following obvious method will lessen these difficulties. The complete reports should be mimeo-graphed before the chapter, and numbered copies given to each capitular as soon after his arrival as is prudently possible. The members will then have a sufficiently prolonged time for studying the reports; and the brother general can confine his presentation to necessary explanations, descriptions, and to emphasizing the more important parts of the reports. The numbered copies are to be collected from the capitulars after the chapter of affairs. III. Tellers 11. Our constitutions speak of "scrutineers" at chapters. I cannot find this word in the dictionary. Is it correct? The Latin original is scrutator, feminine scrutatrix. The idiomatic translation that should be in constitutions is teller. Many awkward translations are found in constitutions, e. g., scrutators, scrutinizers, scrutatrixes, scrutatrices, examiners, depu-ties, anti ballot mistresses. The style of constitutions should be accurate, direct, simple, brief, and readily intelligible. All words redolent of formalism or legalistic jargon are to be avoided. A similar error is found in the many constitutions that speak of the first, second, etc., "scrutiny." This again is a completely literal translation of the Latin "scrutinium." The idiomatic English 228 July, 1958 translation is ballot. "Balk employed also to signify th, THE GENERAL CHAPTER ring" may also be used. "Ballot" is individual voting slip or ticket, but ! the context will exclude anyI ambiguity. 12. I have on several occasionsl been appointed as one of the two priest tellers at the elections in monaster.ies' of nuns (c. 506, .~ 2). Was I obliged to take the oath imp, osed by canon 171, § 1, on tellers? No The president a~ld the tellers, provided they are mem-bets of the chapter, are "ob oath to perform their dut proceedings of the chapter, A president who is not a m local ordinary who presides [iged by canon 171, § 1, to take an es faithfully and to keep secret the even after the close of the chapter. mber of the elective body, e. g., the at an election of religious women, is certainly not obliged to take" this oath. The same exemption from the oath probably ex~ends to tellers who are not members of the elective body and thlerefore to the two priest tellers at an election in a monastery of Inuns. Cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 8-1927-102-9; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 416; Scha~efer, De Religiosis, n. 512; De Carlo, ~ Jus Religiosorum, n. 129; ~Berutti, II, De Personis et de Clericis in Genere, 225; Parsons, Canonical Elections, 147; Lewis, Chap-ters in Religious Institutes, 107. 13. A local ordinary complained of the delay occasioned by the election of the two tellers and the secretary before the electi on of the mother general. What can we do t~ eliminate the source of this complaint? The local ordinary justifiably! complained. The tellers and the secretary should be el~ected in the first preliminary session of the chapter. The conlstitutions fisually put these elections under the section on the election of the mother general, but it is far more convenient to hold them in the early part of the first preliminary session. "~his greater convenience is a sufficient reason for changing the o~rder stated in the constitutions. The wording of a. 226 of the ~/ormae of 1901 appears to favor the elections at this prehmlna.ry session",n s li ct es t t eas that they are to be held before anything else. If this is done, the secre-tary can begin immediatel~y to corripi[e the acts, the tellers can 229 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious perform their duties also at the election of the committee for the reports of the mother general, and the local ordinary is spared a sufficiently long and inconvenient delay in presiding over the session for the election o~ the mother general. IV. Presiding 14. Who presides at the general chapter of a congregation of brothers? The brother general presides at the general chapter in lay institutes of men; but pontifical and diocesan constitutions can be found that give this right, personally or through a delegate, to the ordinary of the place of election. 15. Who presides at the election of a superioress of a monastery o~ nuns? In a monastery of nuns that is not subject to regulars, the president of the election 6f the superioress is the local ordinary or his delegate. If a monastery is subject to regulars, the local ordinary is to be opportunely informed of the day and hour of the election. The presidency appertains to the ordinary or his delegate, if eithdr attends; but either may attend and leave the presidency wholly or partially to the regular superior. If neither the local ordinary nor his delegate attends, the regular superior presides (c. 506, § 2). The regular superior also may preside through a delegate (c. 199, § 1). As in the case of a mother general, canon 506, § 2, confines the presidency of the local ordinary or regular superior to the election of the superioress; but this presidency is extended to the elections of the councilors by the law of many constitutions. Canon 506, § 3, forbids the appointment of the ordinary confessor of the community as a teller for the election of the superioress in a monastery of nuns. This prohibition extends to his delegation as president of. such an election, since the office of president implies also the duties of a teller. 16. Our pontifical constitutions read: "The bishop of the diocese pre-sides at the chapter as the Apostolic Delegate, personally or in the person of any priest authorized by him." Is this correct? 230 July, 1958 In the law of the C THE ~ENERAL CHAPTER ~de of Canon Law, the ordinary ~f the placd of election presides, personally or through a deIegate, at the election of the mother general in pontifical and'diocesan congregations and at both in virtue of his office as local ordinary. Before the code, May 19, 1918, the local ordinary presided at the chapters of diocesan congregations in virtue of his office but at the elections in pontifical congregations as the delegate of the Holy See. The law befoie the code was based on the apostolic constitution, "Conditae a Christo," of Leo XIII, De-cember 8, 1900, Chapter I, n. II, Chapter ~II, n. I. There. fore, the wording of your constitutions is of a law that no longer exists. This is a probable indication of constitutions that were never conformed to the Code of Canon Law. Cf. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 509; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 251, 1; Bat-tandier, Guide Canonique, n. 363; Wernz-Vidal, III, De Religiosis, n. 119. ¯ SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The Pulpit, the Press and the Paulists. By Reverend John F. Ritzius, C.S.P. The Paulist Press, 401 West 59th Street, New York 19 New York. $1.00 (paper cover). Come, Holy Spirit.* By" Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Boulevard~ Staten Island 14, New York. 25c (paper cover). Gli Istituti Secolari nella Nuova Legislazione Canonica. By Dr. Giuseppe M. Benucci'. Catholic Book Agency, Via de[ Vaccaro, 5, Rome. A Catholic Child's Book about the Mass. By Reverend Louis A~ Gales. Catechetical 'Guild Educational Society, 260 Summit Avenue, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $1.95 (paper cover). My Catholic Faith. By Most Reverend Louis L. R. Morrow. My Mission House, 1324 52nd Street, Kenosha, Wisconsin. $4.00. Perpetual Help Daily Missal. In four volumes. Perpetual Help Center, 294 East 150th Street, New York 51, New York. A Land of Miracles for Three Hundred Years. By Eugene Lefebvre, C.SS.R. St. Anne's Bookshop, Ste. Anne de Beaupre, Quebec, Canada. $2.00. 231 Survey of Roman Document:s R. I~. Smil~h, S.,J. [In the present survey there will be given a summary of the documents which appeared in /Iota /lpostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of February and March, 1958. Page references throughout the article will be to the 1958 ,~AS (v. 50).] Pertaining to the Religious Life ON FEBRUARY 11, 1958 (AAS, pp. 153-61), the Holy Father addressed an allocution to the superiors general of the orders and congregations of religious men with generalates in the city of Rome. The allocution consisted prin-cipally of a geries of matters which the Pontiff thought it opportune to bring to the attention of his listeners. Since there is danger that religious may become imbued with existenti-alism to the detriment of eternal truthi the Pope warned ¯ superiors to draw their own inspiration from file fonts of re-vealed truth and from the teaching power of the Church. Even in ascetical matters there, are some who wish to withdraw from the teaching of the Church; accordingly, he advised su-periors to adhere firmly to the balanced and solid ascetical doctrine traditional in the Church. In this and in all other matters superiors must consult and study the question at length; but, once the~ have reached a decision, then they must un-hesitatingly lead their subjects along the path they have chosen. In this connection the Vicar of Christ deplored any attitude that would assume that the yoke of religious obedience is too heavy for men of the present time; rather the superior should constantly keep in mind that as superior he is responsible for the spiritual welfare of his subjects. His Holiness then considered the renunciation of worldly things that is common to all religious groups, however else they may be diversified. This renunciation, he remarked, must be complete in desire, though in actuality it may vary according 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS to the exigencies of each religious family. The need for this renunciation, the Pope said, is obvious; for how can anyone ascend to God by the wings of charity if. he is not free from the multiform concupiscence of the world? Moreover, no one can enjoy the comfort~ and pleasures of the world without losing something of his spirit of faith and charity. And pro-longed laxness and indulgence can gradually and insensibly lead to defection from one's state in life. The Vicar of Christ then observed to the assembled su-periors that their way of acting and judging must be different from that of the world; for their norm of action is that of the gospel and the Church: Christ crucified. Accordingly, superiors must nourish this Christian attitude in themselves by a diligent consideration of the things of God, by the study of sound doctrine, and by a familiarity with ancient and recent writers who excelled both in faith and in piety. These same norms' of thought and action must also be followed by their subjects;. they must seek not the pleasant and the comfortable but God alone, whom they will find in the assiduous control of" the senses by austerity and of the will by submission to religious obedience. The .Pontiff also spent some little time on the matter of religious rules. These were drawn up, he said, by religious fohnders to secure peace and serenity of spirit for members of their societies. While some of these rules may need modification in non-essential matters, esteem for the rule in general must never be lost. It is the duty of superiors to maintain the rule of each institute; this at times will require firmness which, however, should never degenerate into harshness. In the concluding part of his address His Holiness ex-horted his listeners to build up a spirit of union and cooperation among the various religious institutes of the Church. He urged them to be especially notable in their zealous obedience to the Holy See and advised them to be strict in the matter of admission of candidates to religious life; otherwise, he warned, 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious religious groups will be not an honor to the Church, but a disgrace. On July 30, 1957 (AAS, p. 103), the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious issued a document declaring that the apostolic constitution~ Sedes Sal~ientiae and .its accompanying Statutes are applicable to. all religious congregations and societies who li,~e in common without, public vows and who are dependent on the Sacred Congregation of the Consistory or on the Con-gregation for the Propagation of the Faith. The only exception concerns the executive function considered in Article 18 of the Statutes; in this matter the competency of .the Sacred Cons.istgry and of Propaga~tion is retained for those religious societies entrusted to those congregations by common law or .by apostolic privilege. Educational Matters Under the date of December 8, 1957 (AAS, pp. 99-I03), the Sacred Congregation .of Religious issued an important instruction concerning coeducation. The document considers the matter of coeducation only in secondary schools;' coedtica-tion in colleges and universities is not envisaged ih the document, while coeducation in primary schools is left to the discretion of the. ordinary. The document deals successively with the prin-ciples, by which a correct estimate of coeducation can be made; the obligatory norms which must be observed wherever co-education appears to be necessary; and the measures (the Latin word is aautiones) recommended to rem0.ve the evils that accompany coeducation. In the section dealing with principles the document states that coeducation on the whole cannot be approved. Although it has a number of definite advantages., still the danger it entails to morality, especially during the time of puberty, out- ¯ weigh all those advantages. Nevertheless, in some cases co-education may be a lesser evil. Thus where Catholic students would be exposed to grave danger to their faith by attending public schools and where the Catholics of the region cannot 234 July, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS afford separate schools for boys and girls, coeducation may be tolerated provided the dangers to morality are averted as far as possible. In dealing with the obligatory norms to be followed such situ~itions, the document urges~ the practice of what it calls "coinstitutional" education in place of coeducation. "Co-institution" provides for a sirigle building under a single administration with, however, separate wings or sections, one for boys, the other for girls. Such a school may have a common library as well as common science laboratories provided the latter are used at different tim~s by the boys and girls. Where this "coinstitution" is impossible, then coeducation may be tolerated; but the conduct of such coeducational schools is to be included in the quinquennial reports; moreover, each of the national councils of bishops can set up definite norms to be observed wherever coeducation is practiced in their respec-tive countries. The last section of the document then lists a series of recommendations. The religious men and women chosen to teach in coeducational schools should be persons whose virtue and judgment have already been proven. Each school should have a spiritual director who is to be in charge of the spiritual li~e of the student body. Religious men are no.t to be in charge of coeducational schools except in rare cases and then only after an indult has been secured from the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious. Common physical and gymnastic ac-tivities or competitions must be avoided. Schools should not provide boarding facilities for both sexes. Separate entrances and separate locker facilities should be provided for students of each sex. Gym classes and dramatic productions should not be in common; and boys and girls should receive separate ¯ instruction in the sixth commandment, in parts of biology, and in other similar areas of study. Finally, the document recom-mends that religious men who teach or exercise the ministry 235 Review for Religious in coeducati6nal schools should limit their activities with regard to the girl students to the exercise of their assigned work. On January 3, 1958 (AAS, pp. 82-85), the Holy Father spoke to a group of religious women associated with the work of Catholic Action. He urged them to give their students a fully human and Christian formation. They must prepare their students to judge the world as it actually is, to see how. the world should be, and then to work unceasingly until the world corresponds to the divine plan for it. The Pope praised his listeners for their endeavor to build up a strong core of Catholic Action among their students, a core which will be first in every-thing: in studies, in discipline, in piety. On December 28, 1957 (AAS, pp. 118-19), the Sacred Peniter~tiary released the text of a prayer composed by the Holy Father to be recited by those who teach. Teachers may gain an indulgence of 1,000 days each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart. Family Life On January 2.0, 1958 (AAS, pp. 90-96), the Roman Pontiff addressed the members of the Italian Federation of Associations of Large Families. After pointing out that one of the most dangerous aberrations of modern paganized society is the opinion of those who define fecundity in marriage as a social malady, he continued by remarking that common sense has always recognized large families as the sign and proof of physical health, while history shows that the non-observance of the laws of marriage and of procreation is a primary cause ot~ the decadence of nations. Later in hi~ talk the Holy Father takes up the matter of overpopulation. God, he said, does not deny the means of livelihood to those whom He has called into life. If individual episodes, large or small as the case may be, at times seem to prove the contrary, these are in reality only signs that man has placed some impediment to the execution of the divine plan. 236 Ju~, 1958 ROMAN ~)OCUMENTS Overpopulation, then, to the extent that it exists, is due not to the inertia of Providence but to the disorder of men. Since progress in science and newly discovered sources of energy guarantee the earth prosperity for a long time to come, since no one can foresee what now-hidden resources will one day be discovered in our planet, and since no one can tell whether the rate of procreation will always be equal to that of today, overpopulation is not a valid reason for the use of illicit means of birth control. It would be more rational to apply human energy to the eradication of the causes of famine in underdeveloped countries, to foster less nationalistic economies, and to replace egoism by charity, avarice by justice. Moreover, God does no~ demand of men responsibility for the over-all destiny of humanity--that is His affair; but He does demand of them that they follow the dictates of their consciences. In the final section of the allocution the Holy Father says that in the intention of God every family is to be an oasis of spiritual peace. This is especially true of large families, for in the parents of such families there is no trace of .anguish of conscience or fear of an irreparable return to solitude; in such families, too, thework and hardship involved are repaid even in this life by the affection of the children. A large family assists in the formation of character; indeed, in the history of the Church large families would seem to have a special preroga-tive of producing saints, as is shown in the cases of St. Louis, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Robert Bellarmine, and St. Pius X. The Pontiff concluded his speech by urging his listeners to work unceasingly for the economic welfare and protection of large families, dxhorting them to wake society from its lethargy on this point. On January 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 85-90), His Holiness "addressed 15,000 Italian women engaged in domestic work. He told them that their work excelled other forms of labor such as agricultural or industrial occupations, for these latter are chiefly concerned with things, while their own work is con- 237 R. F. SMITH l~eview for Religious cerned with persons. Because 0f this the relations between domestic servants and their employers must be. regulated not only by the laws of commutative justice but also by.a mutual interchange of human values. Love must lighten the tasks of the domestic worker; and that love can not be repaid by money alone, but by an exchange of affection. He further p?inted out to his listeners that they must gauge the importance of their work by considering that their activity is directed to the existence and stability of family life. Hence, they should be concerned for the good name of the family they work for,. seek to develop harmony among its members, and help in the correct formation of the children. He concluded his allocution by urging the women listening to him to consider their work as a service rendered to God in the person of their neighbor; he also reminded the employers of domestic servants that these servants, if they devote all their activity to their work, themselves deserve a family wage. On December 30, 1957 (AAS, pp. 119~20), the Sacred Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Holy~Father to be recited by members of Christian families, who, each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart, may gain an indulgence of 1,000 days. Miscellaneous Several documents which appeared in February and March concern the liturgy and the Church's life of worship. On February 8, 1958 (AAS, p. 114), the Holy Office issued a document condemning the growing practice of delaying baptism because of alleged liturgical reasons bolstered by foundationless opinions concerning the condition of infants dying without baptism. Hence, the Holy Office warns the faithful that infants should be baptized as soon as possible in accordance with canon 770. Five days later on February 14, 1958 (AAS, p. 114), the Holy Office issued another document dealing with another 238 July, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS abuse, this one consisting in adding prayer or scripture passages to liturgical functions or in deleting prescribed pfayers~ from such functions. The document restates the current discipline of the Church that only the Holy See. can make changes in the ceremonies, rites, prayers, and readings of liturgical functions. On February 5, 1958 (AAS, p. 104), the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites empowered lbcal ordinaries to permit the blessing of ashes to be repeated before afternoon Mass on Ash Wednesday, provided the Mass is attended by large numbers of the faithful. Under.the date of January 7, 1958 (AAS, pp. 179-81), the same congregation ai~proved the miracles needed for the canonization: of Blessed Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-1854), .widow and foundress of the~ Carmelite Sisters of Charity. ~ Four other talks of the Holy Father, the texts of whic~ were published du.ring February~ and March, should be noted. On i%bruary 1~8, 1958 (AAS, pp. 161-69), His Holiness delivered the traditio'nal¯ allocution to. the parish priests and Lenten preachers of Rome. He urged .his listeners to make the greatest efforts during the forthcoming extraordinary mission to' be held throughout the city of Rome on the occasion of the centenary of the apparitions at Lourdes. He told them to stress three matters. The first is' that of the sanctificati6n of Sundays and holy days; the second is respect for one's own life and, hence, a repudiation of suicide, a ~in which not only excludes the normal channels of divine mercy, but is also an indication 'of a lack of~'Christian faith and hope;' the third point to be stressed is respect for the lives of others to be shown by a sense of Christian responsibility with regard to the ingreasing traffic accidents in the city of Rome. He concluded his allocu-tion by exhorting the priests present to tell the people during the coming mission that the world needs priest and religious saints, but above all at the present time it needs a multitude of lay saints. 239 R. F. SMITH On January 14, 1958 (AAS, pp. 150-53), the Pontiff addressed the professors and students of the Angelicum, urging them to imitate in their lives St. Thomas Aquinas. Like that great saint, they should have the greatest docility and respect for the teaching authority of the Church; like him they should strive for a profound knowledge of Scripture; and in imitation of him they should foster an intense interior life where charity, the queen of the virtues, may reign[ On February 22, 1958 (AAS, pp. 170-74), 10,000 rail-road workers of Italy heard an allocution given by the Holy Father. The Pontiff: told his audience that their occupation should constantly remind them of the most important of human travels--human life itself which is a journey to the possession of God. On February 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 174-76), the Pon-tiff broadcast a message to the school children of the United States to solicit their charity for the needy children of other countries. He devoted his message to St. Joseph, telling the children that St. Joseph who is the protector of the Church is asking them to contribute their part to the needs of other children throughout the world. Two documents of the period under survey concern political matters. On February 1, 1958 {AAS, pp. 68-81), a convention was ratified between the Apostolic See and the Republic of Bolivia. On January 27, 1958 {AAS, pp. 121-22}, the Sacred Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by His Holiness to be recited by Catholic legislators and poli-ticians. Each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart they can gain an indulgence of three years. The last document to be considered was issued on February 15, 1958 (AAS, p. 116), as a declaration of the excommunica-tion of three Hungarian priests who participated' in the Hun-garian Parliament contrary to the decree of the same congre-gation previously issued on July 16, 1957 (See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January 15, 1958, pp. 48-49). 240 t oo! Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] MAN AND HIS HAPPINESS. Theology Library, Vol. III. Edited by A. M. Henry, O.p. Translated from the French by Charles Miltner, C.S.C. Pp. xxxix and 420. Fides Publishers Associa-tion, Chicago. 1956. $6.50. THE VIRTUES AND STATES OF LIFE. Theology Library, Vol. IV. Edited by A. Mo Henry, O.P. Translated from the French by Robert J. Olsen and Genevieve T. Lennon. Pp. xii and 778. Fides Publishers Association, Chicago. 1956. $8.75. With these two volumes the Theology Library moves into the realm of moral theology. The Preface and Introduction to Volume III are at pains to point out that in the conception of the authors moral theology is not distinguished from dogmatic theology as is done in many manuals. Volume III treats of moral matters in their general principles: the happiness of man, psychological and moral analysis of human action, the passions, habits and virtues, sin, law, and grace. Volume IV descends to a more particular treatment which considers the theological virtues, the cardinal virtues, charismatic gifts, the functions, states, and orders in the Church, the active and the contemplative life, and, finally, Christian perfection. It is safe to wager that the matter contained in these volumes will prove very interesting simply because of the subject matter which certainly "comes home to our hearts and our bosoms." Father 'Tonneau's remarks in the Introduction to Volume III about the mistake of transferring mere social relations to our rela-tions to God and thus trying to determine the pattern of morality and its foundation are timely. God is primarily a creator of natures before being a legislator. The brief sketch of Christian mora|ity -from the New Testament in the introductory chapter is from the pen of Father Spicq who is well qualified for the task. One may well ask, though, whether the distinction, not to use a stronger word, which he draws between the morality of the Old and the New Testaments is not overdone. As in the preceding volumes, each chapter is followed by a section called "Reflexions and Perspectives" and by a bibliography. In these volumes the French bibliography is not translated into English. 241 .Review for Religiou:~ It may come as a surprise to many (it should be a pleasant surprise) to find a treatise on morality opening with a consideration about man's happiness. This was prepared for by Father Tonneau's Introduction wherein morality is seen in the perspective, not primarily; of law and obligation, but of rational pursuit of happiness. The profundity of this starting-point becomes apparent when the author shows, rightly it seems, that man has a natural de~ire for seeirig the essence of God." The chapter on the passions is well done and brings to light some poin. ts about "the irascible" which are either neglected or, worse, misunderstood. In the chapter on grace there is a long introdtictory section on the meaning of grace in Scripture. This is definitely a gain. Unfortunately, the study is'confined~ mainly to the word grace and its meaning. Such a method leaves wide gaps: in St. Paul the meaning of the terms Spirit and spiritual should have been studied to help grasp the reality of the gift and its super-naturality. Actually, the writer was forced to follow such a pro-cedure for St. John who. expresses the reality of grace by the term eternal life. The theological treatment of grace is admittedly a difficult task. Even given the scriptural foundations, the history of thought about grace is almost required if one is to grasp "the" significance of t~rms, problems, and solutions. Here it seems that 'the work has not been well done. The various divisions of the meaning of the word grace include that of operative and cooperative. Augustine provided the basis for this distinction, but the explanation given on page 384 does not 'correspond with that of St. Thomas in I-II,111,2. Further, the statement about the meaning of excitant and assistant grace in the Council of Trent is not correct. Now, while one may legitimately develop his own theory and interpretation of both Thomas and Trent, it ought to be made clear, especially with regard to the council, that this is' an interpretation. Finally, what was the use of this discussion on operative, and cooperative grace? It seems that the distinction functions only once. in the subsequent pages and, actually, provides no clarification in its application. The whble treatment, of justification is unsatisfying. The writer seems to be so anxious to insist on the instantaneous occurrence of justification that he neglects other equally important aspects of the matter. In., Volume IV, on the virtues and the states of life,, we have matter which will prove still more interesting. It is in this volumd that greater originality is attempted, all the while adhering to the 242 July, 1958 BOOK REVIEWS fundamental doctrine of St. Thomas. Of all the chapters in this volume the most original is the first, on faith, by Father Li~g~. It may well prove to be the most helpful: it is concrete, psychological as well as metaphysical, and offers some excellent suggestions about the faith in reference to its different "ages" in the child, the adolescent, the adult. Finally, this chapter is up-to-date. The writer takes full cognizance of the latest work on the relation of sigfis (miracles) to th~ genesis of the act of faith, the question of immanence and connaturality.in the judgment of credibility, and the need of affirming the motive of faith in the act of faith. This latter point is well brought out by insisting on the very meaning of revelation as the self-disclosure of a person ~o persons. The fact of Jesus Christ's being "the fulness of the Word of God" is established and the consequences of this for a right understanding of the development of dogma are indicated. The insistence, in the last chapter, on the call of all Christians to perfection is most acceptable and~ forms a fitting close to the two volumes °which began with the statement that man naturally desires to know and love God in whom his happiness and, therefore, his perfection consists. . If we must add here some complaints that were voiced about the earlier volumes of the Theology Library, we must be forgiven for the simple reason that we are performing the duty of a revie~ker. First, the translation, in general, is better. Yet there are numerous blunders. There is still the tendency to retain in English the narrative present tense of the French; the antecedents of pronouns are not always clear. There is no doubt that some of the responsibility for the difficulty exlSerienced by the English reader lies with the authors of the articles themselves. They have written rapidly, even hastily, so that, at times, one gets the impression that he is reading jottings. Combine this with the difficulty of the subject matter and the technical vocabulary (sometimes Latin phrases and sentences are left in the original Latin), and you have books which will not prove easy reading for the un-initiated.-- JA,x~ES J. DOYLIL S.J. THE WORSHIP OF THE CHURCH. A Companion to Liturgical Studies. By William J. O'Shea, S.S., D.D. Pp. 646.The lqew. n/an Press, Westminster," Maryland. 1957. $7.00. After more than thirteen years of careful preparation, Father O'Shea presents in the present volume a comprehensive, mode[n study, well calculated to supplement knowledge of the liturgy gleaned from 243 ]~OOK REVIEWS Review for Religious primary sources. The author treats his subject very thoroughly from all important aspects and with great attention to detail. The result is a fund of thought-provoking material not only for the dlerical reader (for whom the book was ~riginally intended) but also for all who would draw near to the fullest participation in ~he official prayer of the Church. Having explained the definition of the liturgy given in Mediator Dei, Father O'Shea goes on to discuss its latreutic-sanctifying purpose. Attention is here and elsewhere given to the pivotal question of re-quisite interior disposition without which external liturgical elements quickly degenerate into vacuous formalism. As interior devotion fosters liturgical observance, so too the liturgy occasions (and even causes through its sacraments) an increase in interior graces con-sonant with its purpose: the glory of God and the sanctification of souls. Further chapters turn in detail to the impersonal and objective components of the full liturgy in the light of its historical develop-ment under the guidance of the Holy See. The Holy Sacrifice, the Divine Office, the sacraments, and the major sacramentals are all treated in great detail, as well as their exterior surroundings, in-clusive of vestments, liturgical music, and art forms. A special chapter is devoted to consideration of the liturgical year. The whole book spells out the magnificent plan of the liturgy intoa splendid living, mosaic of corporate worship in which the individual grows in grace as he willingly" takes active part. There are difficulties. But the cumulative effect of the pre-sentation is intellectually satisfying, if the reader is willing to work and does not allow himself to be weighed down by the great mass of detail. Firmly grounded intellectual conviction about the value of the full liturgy is precisely what is needed and is precisely what the author brings to his persistent student. The conclusion reached, however, will be best realized by most of us through actual par-ticipation in the full liturgy, to which the book is but the necessary scientific prelude. Great stress is accorded throughout the work to the corporate character of Christian worship, in which each member of the Mystical Body of Christ is ideally to participate in the fullest measure allowed by his state of life. The result is a desired liturgical context in which the various recognized systems of spirituality participate and from which they draw in due proportion to their secondary purposes assigned by the Church. 244 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The presentation is characteristically positive and enthusiastic in its total import. Its major thesis is one that recommends itself to the prayerful consideration of all who are in a position to influence liturgical practice--if only in their own lives. In practice, for the individual religious or diocesan priest the theme idea may merely mean the more spirited performance of liturgical actions already engaged in. But depth of spirit here and desire for fuller participation under the guidance of obedience are viewed as an excellent index of sound spirituality in full accord with the mind of the Church'. The book is well recommended to the serious student and for conferences to religious, aimed at deeper appreciation of our liturgical heritage.--.¥IATTHE\V ~_~. CREIGHTON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCI=MI=NTS THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michigan Avenue, N.E., Washington 17, D. C. Fast and Abstinence in thd First Order of Saint Francis. A Historical Synopsis and a Commentary. By Jordan J. Sullivan, O.F.M.Cap. This is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of the Catholic University of America. Pp. 133. Paper 2.00. CLONMORE & REYNOLDS,. LTD., 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. Mary. Mary's Seven Words. Mary's Seven Sorrows. By Peter Lippert, S. J. Simple, thought-provoking material suitable for medi-tation and spiritual reading. Pp. 78. Paper 5/6. Saint Clare of Assisi. By a Poor Clare Colettine. Meditations on the life and virtues of St. Clare. P.72. Paper 3/-. Saint Anthbny of Padua. By Olive M. Scanlan. A brief bi-ogral:; hy of a very popular saint. Pp. 62. Paper 4/6. Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. By Dom Ernest Graf, O.S.B. A commentary and explanation of the new liturgy of Holy Week. Books like this are necessary if the faithful are to learn to appreciate the new liturgy. Pp. 88. Paper 5/-. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 744 East 79th Street, Chicago 19, Illinois. What They Ask About the Church. By Monsignor J. D. Con-way. The questions are real and the answers have appeared for the most part in the Davenport Catholic Messenger and the Catholic 245 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Digest. Here they are ~irranged topically under six heads. If you are looking for honest, clear, and convincing answers to the ques-tions non-Catholics ask about the Church, you will find them in the book. It should prove a valuable aid to all engaged in convert work. Pp. 338. $3.95. FRANCISCAN EDUCATIONAL CONFERENCE, Capuchin Col-lege, Washington 17, D. C. Franciscan Life Today. Report of the thirty-seventh annual meeting of the Franciscan Educational Conference, St. Anthony's Seminary, Santa Barbara, California, August 12-14, 1956. The topics discussed at the conference were all ascetical and as such of interest to all religious. We single out for special mention the following: Renovatio Accommodata; the place of the religious state, of the religious priesthood, of the religious brother in the Church; the value of the common life; genuine concept of obedience; modern dangers to chastity. Pp. 326. Paper $3.75. HAWTHORNE BOOKS, INC., 70 Fifth Avenu'e, New York I1, New York. This Is the Mass as described by Henri Daniel-Rops, as cele-brated by Fulton J. Sheen, as photographed by Yousuf Karsh, with an introduction by Bishop Sheen. We can never understand ~nd appreciate the Mass adequately and so must strive always to grow in understanding and appreciation of this august mystery. No opportunity to learn more about the Mass should be allowed to escape us. If you have read re. any books about the Ma~s, do not dismiss this one as just another book, for its read!ng will profit you greatly; if you have not, this is an excellent book with which to begin your study of the "perfect act of worship of God. Pp. 159. $4.95. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Lo.uis 2, Missouri. Summa of the Christian Life. Vol. III. Selected texts from the WritinSs of Venerable Louis of Granada. O.P, Translated and adapted by Jordan. Aumann, O.P: This is the final volume of a classic treatment on the Christian life. It is number eleven in the "Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality." In this volume, which is divided into three books, th~ first, of 206 pages, deals with the Life of Christ;-the second, 0f 102 pages, treats of the sacr.aments; the third, of 46 pages, is on the last things: death, judgment, the p~ains of hell, eternal glory. Pp. 372. $4.75. 246 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS P. J. KENEDY. & SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, New York. My Last Book, by James M. Gillis, C.S.P., is a book of informal meditations. The ai~thor characterizes them in these words: "These meditations are designed primarily as a help to 'personal religion.'" Again "What. we seek is quiet consideration, reflection, concentration upon the truths of religion." You will like these meditations, the last work of a man grown old in the service of God--he was eighty-one when he diedmand determined to work for God even in his fihal illness. Pp. 246. $3.95. LOYOLA UNIVERS~'TY PRESS, 3441 North Ashlarid Avenue, Chic'~go 13, Illinois. Challenge. By fohn W. O'Malley, S.J., Edward J. McMaho.n, S.J., Robert E. Cahill, S.J., and Carl J. Armbruster, s.J. Challenge is a prayerbook intended primarily for the y?ung, for those not too old to be roused to give of their best when they meet a challenge. It is much more than just a collection of prayer formulae, for it essays to guide its readers to an intense and elevated spirithal life. Ev~en mental prayer "comes in for excellent treatment. The ideals it unfolds for the user are highf they offer a definite challenge. This is a prayerbo~k which you will want to reco'mmend to your students, You might even find it profitable for your own use. ~Sp. 243.~2.50. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Our Lady Queen of the Religious Life. By Louis~Colila, C.SS.R. Translated by Sister Maria Constance and Sister Agnes Th~r~se. ALl .religious instinctively venerate Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as their Mother and Queen. Father Cblin articulates this instinctive devotion in a new title of' Mary as Queen of the Religious Life. He writes this book not to prove a thesis, for One does not prove what all accept unquestioningly, but to show how very appropriate the title is. The book is divided into t[iree parts. In Part One he shows how~our Lady is the ideal df the.religiou~ life; in Part Two he explains how Mary ig the source of that life; and in Part Three he treats of the" Marian devotion of religious. You will"like this book. Pp. 234. $3.75. Melody" in Your Hearis. Edited by Reverend Georg'e L. Kane. This book is ~/" very ~interesting "and eklifyirig human document: Thirteen sisters tell what" "the religious life ha~ been ~fid meant for them, thdir satisfaction in their work, their joys ahd ~orrows, dis- 247 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious appointments and achievements. Four years ago these same sisters gave the reascms that prompted them to become religious in the book Why I Entered the Cdnvent. The present volume is another effective instrument to promote vocations to the religious life among young girls. Pp. 173. $3.00. Woodstock Papers No. 1. A Catholic Primer on the Ecumenical 'Movement. By Gustave Weigel, S.J. Pp. 79. Paper 95c. Woodstock Papers No. 2 The Testimony of the Patristic Age Concerning Mary's Death. By Walter J. Burghardt, S.J. Pp. 59. Paper 95c. These two volumes introduce a new series of theological essays projected by the .professors of Woodstock College. Several are to appear each year. They are intended primarily for the grow-ing number of lay men and women interested in theology. This means that they will be written in a popular vein yet with care so as not to sacrifice theological accuracy. The choice of topics will be such as to be of interest and assistance, so the projectors of the .series hope, also to their colleagues in the field. Guidance in Spiritual Direction. By Reverend Charles Hugo Doyle. "Tl~e dual purpbse of this book," the author tells his reader, "is to interest more priests in becoming spiritual directors in the fullest sense of the word, and, at the same time, to provide, in as logical and simple a manner as possible, fundamental rules in spiritual guidance as found in the writings of the great masters of the spiritual life." After you have read the book, you will agree that the author does accomplish his second aim. Only time can tell whether he will also gain his first purpose. Pp. 301. $4.75. Stonyhurst Scripture Manuals: The Gospel According to Saint Matthew. The Gospel According to Saint Luke. The Gospel According to Saint John. The general editor of the series is Philip Caraman, s.J. The commentary and the introduction for each volume are by C. C. Martindale, s.J. The books are intended for school use; and the notes and commentaries, therefore, are such as will be most useful for students studying the Gospels for the first time. The volumes average better than 200 pages and sell for $3.00 each. Martyrs of the United States. Manuscript of Preliminary Studies Prepared by the Commission for the Cause of Canonization of the Martyrs of the United States. Edited by Reverend Monsignor James M. Powers, LL.D. This book deserves wide circulation. From it you will learn to your surprise that there are 118 individuals who 248 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS cain claim to have died a martyr's death in the United States. They deserve to be better known. You can advance their cause by learaing to know them, by invoking their aid privately, and by getting others to do so. Pp. 196. $3.20. The Best Poems of John Banister Tabb. Edited with an intro-duction by Dr. Francis E~ Litz. An exceptional treat for the lovers of verse. The poems are arranged in chronological order and so the reader can follow the development of Father Tabb's art~ Pp. 191. $3.00. A Legend of Death and Love. By Joseph Kerns, S.J'. Illustrated by Edward O'Brien. A Poem of 454 lines concerning a heroic trumpeter of Cracow, the Tartar invasion, and our Lady. Pp. 45. 1.75. ST. GREGORY SEMINARY, Mount Washington Station, Cincinnati 30, Ohio. Mosaic of a Bishop. Des.igned by Reverend Maurice E. Reardon, S.T.D. Here is something original in biography. You meet the late archbishop of Cincinnati, John T. McNicholas, O.P., S.T.M., in his own writings. You learn of the details of his life from numerous notes and essays of the designer which serve to introduce many of the sermons, addresses, and lectures. The whole makes a very im-pressi_ ve monument to a distinguished churchman. Pp. 365. $6.00. SHEED & WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3, New York. The Risen Christ. By Caryll Housela~der. The author needs no introduction, since most ~eaders are familiar with her books an~ the originality and freshness of her thought. She died almost four years ago (October 12, 1954), and so it is something of a mystery to find her author of a new book. No ghost writer is involved, for the style and manner are geauine. The publishers could throw light on this problem, but have not chosen to do so. We recommend this book unreservedly. We found it very stimulating and predict that you will too. Pp. 111. $2.75. The Priestly Life. A Retreat by Ronald Knox. This retreat was given by Father Knox to semiaarians when death was imminent though he did not realize it. In it he shares with his audience the wisdom gathered in a long and active life. Though the meditations were written for priests and seminarians, the faults pointed out and the virtues insisted upon are faults all of us should correct and virtues we should all strive to acquire. Pp. 176. $3.00. 249 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious Approach to Penance. By Dom Hubert van Zeller, O.S.B. "If you were asked to put on paper what you know about penance, it is. very. likely that you would not need very much paper, particularly if you were told to leave the sacrament of penance out ot: account. If this is true, then you must read Dom ZeIler's book Approach to Penance. In it you will find an unusually complete and adequate treatment of what most ot: us findto be a painful subject. He does not succeed in making penance attractive, but he will convince you olc its necessity and show you how you can practice it.~ Pp. 104. World Crisis and the Catholic. Here is a collection of studies by lay Catholic men and women, all of whom have become nationally or even internationally prominent in their various fields. They view the modern world and its problems and indicate, each in his own field, what must be done to arrive at a solution: Pp. 231. $3.00. SISTERS OF THE VISITATION, 202 Bancroft Parkway, Wilming-ton 6, Delaware. Lights and Counsels, by the late Right Reverend Alfred A. Curtis, D.D., is a collection of brief spiritual thoughts, one for each day of the year. This is a new printing and now contains an index. Pp. 125. Paper 50c. Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor cat~ort ldw at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --20 - John and. Mary, both of the Syrian rite, immigrated to this country and settled in a town that had only a church of the Latin rite. Thus both automatically passed to the Latin rite. Their daughter Rose, now a professed religious of perpetual vows, was baptized in this Latin "church and consequently is a Latin.~ Are my conclusions correct? No. John and l~.ary remained in the Syrian rite, since par-ticipation ,in another rite, no matter how prolonged, does not effect a change of rite (c. 98, ~ 5). Rose should have been baptized in the rite of her Syrian parents (c. 756, § 1),. She belongs to the rite in which she should ordinarily have been baptized, even if a 25O July, 1958 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS serious reason legitimated the baptism in another rite (c. 98, § 1), and is therefore of the Syrian rite. Her religious professions are valid, since the permission for an Oriental to enter a Latin novitate is required only for the liceity, not the validity, of the noviceship (c. 542, 2°).~ However, even though Rose is a professed of per-petual vows, this permission is still to be obtained. This whole subject and the m~nner of requesting the permission were explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1949, 241-54. Does there exist any canonical prohibition against institutes of men having authority over or the direction of

Issue 10.1 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; JANUARY 15, 1951 o Schools of Spiri÷ualify .o . ° . oG. Augustine Ellard 0BenedictineS. prifid a li÷y ' Bernard A. Sause '~ . .; 2 °,Behol~l This Heart ° ' ' C.-,A. Herbs÷ Quinqubnnial Repor÷ .~.° ." . . . . . . . AdamC. Ellis Minis÷er of ~'he Sacramen÷s . ClarenCe McAullffe How Are Your Eyes? . M. Raymond C!,~sic on HigherPraye~ . ~,. JeromeBreunlcj Destiny" o{ ReligioUS Women . william B. Faher~ Questions and Answers Book Reviews R Vli::::W FOR Ri::LI IO.US VOLUME X JANUARY, 1951 NUMBER CONTENTS SCHOOLS OF SPIRITUALITY~G. Augustine Ellard, S.J .3 ON ACTUAL GRACE . 6 BENEDICTINE SPIRITUALITYmBernard A. Sause, O.S.B . 7 BEHOLD THIS HEART---C. A. Herbst, S.,I .1.6. OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 19 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT, 1951--Adam C Ellis, S.J .2.0. UNWORTHY MINISTERS OF THE SACRAMENTSm Clarence McAuliffe, S.J .25 NEW APOSTOLIC CONSTITUTION . 32 HOW ARE YOUR EYES?--M. Raymond, O.C.S.O .3.3. HOME FOR TUBERCULOUS SISTERS . ' 38 CLASSIC ON HIGHER PRAYER--Jerome Breunig, 8.J .3.9. REPRINT SERIES . " . , ¯ 46 THE DESTINY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN~WilIiam B Faherty, S.J.47 BOOK REVIEWS-- Meaning of Fatima; Vocation to Love; Graces of Interior Prayer 51 BOOK NOTICES . 52 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 54 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 1. Voting in Local Chapter . 54 2. Pastor as Confessor for Religious . 55 3. Admittance of Ex-Novice . 55 4 Proper.ty Acquired after Profession . . .55 5. Meaning of "Religious" . . 56 6. Adding to Holy Father's Blessing . 56 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. January, 1951, Vol. X, No. 1. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Marys College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S.J. Copyright, 1951, By Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on Inside back cover. Review ~or Religious Volume X January--December, 1951 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX Schools ot: Spiri!:u li :y G. Augustine Ellard,'S.J. IT IS A SIGN of the richness of the Church's spiritual life" that in it there should be "schoolsof spiritu.ality.'" Not even a gre~t saint could well represent that life in all it phases; to illustrate its we~ilth and depth and variety all the saints together would have to be called forth. No individual person nor indeed, any association of them, no matter" how holy and perfect they might be, could ade-quately e:~emplify all the different aspects and facets of the interior life. On the one hand thefecundity of Catholic doctrine is inex-haustible, and on the other the variations among men and women; their needs, providenti~al destinies, potentialities, and sb on, are innumerable. Given these two sources, namely, the fertility of what the "Church offers and the endless dissimilarities among men, it is inevitable that there should be within the Church groups having somewhat diverse conceptions of what pertains. to the spiritual life and then actually carrying them out in corresl~ondingly various ways. As in nature, so aiso in the supernatural order of grace the gifts of God are.most highly variegated. ~'There are ,~arieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are varieties of ministrations, and the same Lord. And there are varieties of workings, but the same God,. who worketh all things in all. But to each is given the manifesta-tion of the Spirit for the general profit." (I Cor. 12:4-7--West-minster Version.) To make up the whole Mystical Body of Christ and keep it functioning in accordance with the divine design.it is necessary th'at there should be different systems of members occupying different places in that great mysterious organism and discharging different forms of activity, even in the cultivation of the interior life and of the love of God. "For as the body is one.and hath many~members~ and all the members of the body, many as they are, form. one bogy; so also it is with Christ. Now ye are the .body of Christ, and.sey-erally his members: - And God bath appointed sundry inthe Church, first apostles, secondly.prophets, thirdly teachers.': (I C0.r. 12: 12, 27-.28-:-'Westminster Version.) As the various.organs Of the body, the heart for instance and the brain, posses~ at the sa~me.time a certain unity and a certain diversity of life, so also the .Mystical.Body of. G. AUGUS~FINE ELLARD Reoieto for Religious Christ must have among its numerous members, all sharing in one life, some who specialize, say, in contemplation and others in action, some who emphasize this virtue and others who excel in that. The revelation vouchsafed to us by God in the New Testament is a complete whole, made up of parts, however, which taken by themselves are unmistakably different. Nobody could fail to dis-tinguish the phases of it presented by the Synoptic Evangelists, by St. John, and by St. Paul. Abstractly, a school of spirituality is a distinctive system of doc-trines, theoretical and practical (principles and practices), pertaining ¯ to the pursuit of Christian perfection. Concretely, it is the group of persons who propose or use that system. These schools differ from one another in much the same way, and for much the same reasons, as the saints who typify them differ from one another. The limits of these schools are somewhat indefinite, and not everybody would enumerate them in just the same way. Tanquerey, in The Spirit'uat Life, distinguishes these eight schools in the modern Church: Benedictine, Dominican, Franciscan, Jesuit, Carmelite, the School of St. Francis de Sales, the French School of the Seventeenth Century, and the School of St. Alphonsus Liguori (xxxii-xlvi). Influence of Religious Orders From this enumeration one might feel tempted to conclude that the schools of spirituality are about the same as the great religious orders after which most of them are named. 'As a matter of fact the respective orders do occupy a leading position in them. However, the schools themselves are much more extensive and less closely bound together. Thus, for example, presumably most people who are in Franciscan.or Dominican parishes would follow their pastors in their spiritual systems. But also sometimes one who belongs, say to a Redemptorlst parish would be a member of the Third Order of Mt. Carmel, and then very probably his sanctification would for the most part follow the Carmelite pattern. Moreover, all those who read Franciscan or Dominican authors and mold their interior devel-opment predominantljr in accordance with the ideals which they find therein would pertain to these same schools. Being Catholic and orthodox, all schools of spirituality have very much in common. Their essential cores are identical. They all have the same dogmatic basis, the same moral principles, the same general ideal of perfection, namely, total love of God, the same prin-cipal means to realize friar objective, and in general whatever is char- danuarg, 1951 SCHOOLS OF SPIRITUALITY acteristic of the Catholic spirit. Over and above these common and fundamental elements each school has its own distinctive notes. One prefers to seek light and inspiration from certain dogmas and another from others. Thus the French School of the Seventeenth Century shows a very special pre-occupation with the doctrine of the Incarnation. There may be different conceptions of God in the sense that different divine attri-butes or aspects are emphasized: think of .Dominican spirituality and God as Prime Mover in contrast .to the Carmelite and God as the All. The various virtues get various treatments: of all the schools the Franciican gives most attention to poverty. With regard to action and contemplation there are conspicuously different orienta-tions; this divergence is well exemplified by the Carmelites and the Jesuits. In Benedictine asceticism the liturgy plays a most prom-inent role; in that of St. Alphonsus and his sons its place is at least less. Somewhat contrastive attitudes are cultivated toward the sacred humanity of Christ: notice the Franciscan tender devotion to the crib and cross as opposed to Jesuit energetic imitation of Christ in His apostolic activity. In some spiritual groups and their doctrines there has been much of the speculative, element; in others, a mini-mum. A historical example of this opposition in tendency is the Rhenish School of the fourteenth century (Eckhart, Tauler, Suso, Ruysbroeck) and the reaction it provoked in such writers as Thomas ~ Kempis. Tendencies to be Avoided With respect to the divergence between schools of spirituality there are two exaggerated and contrary tendencies that are bad and ought to be avoided. One is to minimize or slur over the differences that really do exist and divide them. A narrow and unintelligent 'zeal for the un, ity of Catholicism leads some people more or less to overlook or deny the variations of form and doctrine that are dis-cernible in the rich interior life of the whole Church.~ There is indeed unity in essentials, but the accidentals are far from uniform-ity. One would as reasonably attempt to cover over the differences that exist between the religious orders and their diversified spirits. Real divergences between systems of spiritual doctrine and practice ought to be acknowledged. Oftentimes they offer new light and stimulation to one's personal religious life. In any case they are part of the yariety and beauty that pertain to the Church as the spouse of Christ. 5 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD The opposite fault is to magnify or overemphasize the distinc-tions and diversities between schools. After a11, these differences, though they are important in certain ways, belong to the accidentals, and leave the essentials unchanged throughout the whole Catholic body. Various phases of dogma are accentuated, but the general dog-matic background is identical. The ideals pursued by all are sub-stantially the same, that is, total love of find collaboration with God, with minor variations to suit special purposes or characters. Some stress this virtue and some that, or they blend them together in differ-ent proportions, but ultimately the great Christian virtues are the same for all. In each of the schools one may recognize the essential family likeness that demonstrates their Catholic origin and nature. Finally, it would be fallacious and unjust to rate one school above another. Human insight is not keen enough to gauge pre-cisely the merits and deficiencies of the various schools as they exist objectively and in the sight of God. But relatively, and as far as we can judge, each one of these schools is best suited and adapted to cer-tain groups of persons within the Church. In most cases Divine Providence gently and naturally and imperceptibly makes us pupils in this or that school. That there may be unity, harmgny, and organic development in one's interior life, it is as a rule advisable to keep fairly well within the limits of some one system. This prin-ciple will not prevent those who are more or less mature in their spiritual growth from availing themselves of whatever is best in all of them. Thus the supernatural life and beauty of the Church will ever become richer and richer. ON ACTUAL GRACE The excellent book, With the Help of Thy Grace, by John V. Matthews, S.J. (REVIEW, Vol. IV, pp. 66-67), is now being published in a revised and enlarged edition under the title, Actual Grace and the Spiritual Life. We are willing to underwrite the comment on the inside jacket: "The lucid appealing style of the author has turned what could be a difficult treatise into a simple, attractive and very helpful exposition of a mighty su.bject." The book is being published in the "Recall to the Spiritual Life Series" by the Mercier Press, Cork and Liverpool, 7/6. 6 Benedic!:ine Spirit:uali!:y Bernard A. Sause, O.S.B. MOST persons likely to be consulted about vocation to monas-ticism would probably consider it wise and discreet to emphasize its gratifying features: the beauty of the monastic home, the traditional love of the liturgy, the dignity and consolation of the work usually assigned to the monks, and especially the guar-antee of peace, security, and tranquility. Although he is often commended for his breadth of vision and prudence in governing,. St. Bene~lict does not belong to this school of,thought. It would be difficult to imagine a more forbidding and chal-lenging reception of an aspirant to the religious life than that which he prescribes in his Rule. "The newcomer is not to be granted easy admittance to the enclosure; he must be tested for four or five days to see whether he bears patiently the harsh treatment offered him and the difficulties of admission; he is placed in the novitiate under a mas-ter skilled in the art of winning souls, but who is made to sound most unpleasantly so;'the poor novice is tried repeatedly in all patience--a phrase that is quite meaningless unless one has lived its interpretation at the hands of an experienced master; the year of trial is devoted to showing him all the hard and rugged things through which we pass on to God; the Rule is read and explain.ed to him under the harsh term of "the law." (See Holy Rule of St. Benedict, Ch. 58.) There is more in the same vein. As one reads this chapter of the. Rule, this thought courses throughthe mind: St. Benedict begins with the assumption that a vocation is the consecration of a life to God's service; and while he willed it to be viewed with all the calmness and imperturbability of a life-long perspective, and was willing to make reasonable allowances, he knew that not a moment was to be wasted. Mortification, sup-pression of sinful man's inclination to evil, and the supreme impor-tance of the sacred obedience which with a distinctive forc.e dominates all monastic effort, are all integral parts of fashioning a character according to "his Rule. In harmony with that plan, which has stood the test of more than fourteen centuries, they can be begun, and con-tinued, only in high seriousness. A Spiritual Famit~l St. Benedict did not found an order in the legal, sense of the word. ¯ He wrote his Rule for an ideal monastery, for one moderately-sized BERNARD A. SAUSE Review for Religious family, governed by an Abbot who is believed to hold the place of Christ. (Ch. 2) Even to this day there is among all the followers of Benedict no more deeply cherished religious principle than the autonomy of the individual abbey. Those who lack more extensive acquaintance with the history of Benedictine effort may think of a number of isolated, relatively small and independent houses as an anachronism in today's widespread tendency toward centralization, but Benedictines know the Rule's provision as the spiritual force that has enabled them to make their worthiest contributions to the spir-itual life of the Church. As a youth the Patriarch of Western Monasticism.had lived for three years in the cave above Subiaco. In the op.ening paragraph of Chapter 1 of the Rule, which was written years Iater, he makes it clear that every trace of the eremitical life has been abandoned: his monastery is a group of sons under the intimate leadership of a father who in all matters pertaining to this distinctive way of life is' believed to hold the place of Christ. Together with the eremitical form of religion, St. Benedict discarded numerous monastic observ-ances and traditions that had been generally kept in the Church until his day (he died March 21, 547). A study of the elements that Benedict rejected is interesting for establishing the positive concept of his way of life. For the excessive bodily severity of the Orientals was substituted a round of carefully regulated practices and ideals that could be adopted by all who were admitted to the monastic family. The individualis~tic and subjective piety that so often had prompted excesses and rigorism was simply prohibited: works of supererogation and mortifications which were not made known to the Abbot and which were undergone without his approval and blessing were imputed to presumption an~d vai~glory. (Ch. 49) Prolonged psalmody and arbitrary additions to the Divine Office were excluded. Prayer was regulated'~ the effort of the entire com-m'unity united under the spiritual leadership of the Abbot. It was thought of as the sanctification of the day's work, and the consecra-tion of the night. The meticulous selection of the Psalms for the different hours, which no one has dared to change in the intervening fourteen centuries, despite numerous changes in the arrangement of the Psalter for all other groups in the Church; the comparatively long night Office; the relatively short day Hours, .emphasize this idea. The centralized organization in the Church, especially in the Pachomian monasteries, was done away with, and the individual danuar~t, 1951 BENEDICTINE SPIRITUALITY monastic family became the self-sustaining, self-governing unit of monasticism. These instances are not to be thought of as exhaustive but are merely of a general pattern that bore the stamp of guidance by the Holy Spirit? and, humanly speaking, the experience of almost a half century of actual observance, most of it*with~the responsibility of guiding others as their Abbot. They result in a balance and har~ mony that is of the essence of the monastic character, and invariably one of its most discernible notes. All this is made to fit into the setting of the ~mall monastic fam-ily. Under the leadership-6f their father, in Christ, the brethren pray together all the hours of the Church's official worship. Together they offer as a body the Sacrifice of the Mass. The consideration of private prayer, recognized by all serious religious as most Valuable, nay indispensable, is limited to one sentence: "If another desireth to pray alone in private, l~t him enter [the oratory of the monastery] with simplicity and pray, not with a loud voice, but with tears and fervor of heart." (Ch. 52) One must be careful not to draw false conclusions from so brief a statement. The importance of private. prayer is in no way .minimized. Quite the contrary is "true, as is exemlSlified in the whole history of monastic endeavor. But it was not the concern of St. Benedict's legislation, which was the life of the monastic family. The bretl, lren work together; they eat in a common refectory. They sleep under one roof. Their whole life centers about the or,a-tory. Ideally the sphere of the activity in which "the Lord's work-man," as Benedict calls the monk in the Prologue to his Rule, is to fulfil the promises he makes to God on profession morning, is small. Before the altar for several hours each day he devotes his efforts to the sacred liturgy, that all-important work of God's glorification and the soul's sanctification to which, in Benedict's plan, nothing is ever to be preferred. The refectory, where he reminds the brethren they are to serve one another in charity, the recreation hall, the infirmary, and, generally speaking, the whole enclosure of the monastery, become the scene of the works of charity, brotherly love, co-opera-tion, and good zeal.2 aSee Pope Pius XI. Apostolic Letter, Unigenitus Dei Filius, March 19, 1924. Acta Apostolicae 8edis, 16 : 133. 2The nature of mofiastic autonomy is dealt with expertly and at length by Butler, Benedictine Monachism. London, Longmans, Green, 1919. Especially p. 200 f. BERNARD A, SAUSE Reoie~ for Religious The Opus Dei ' The constitution of the monastic family has its definite purpose and method of operation. The Master of Montecas~ino calls it a School of the Lord's Service. His followers read into the phrase an objectivity that distinguishes it from other schools of asceticism and striving for personal perfection. Fraternally united in common desires, intentions, efforts directed by; the Abbot, whose outstanding qualification for his office must be a knowledge and love of God's law and zeal and ability in imparting it, the brethren devote themselves to the service of the Lord, Creator and Heavenly Father.The visible expression of their objective is in their social prayer and offering of the Sacrifice, which is the official worship of the Church itself, com-monly designated by St. Benedict with the attractive term, Opus Dei, the Work of God. In this matter the Rule mirrors the Golden Age of the Fathers in their love of the praises ceaselessly offered to the Father in spirit and truth by the Spouse of Christ, the Church. Although this praising of God constitutes neither the purpose of the monk's existence,3 nor his exclusive task, it is certainly his most important, holiest, and noblest of works, as well as the most efficacious in serving the Church and drawing Heaven's blessings upon the faithful. Whatever the pressure of activity, all other efforts remain secondary to this conse-cration to God's glorification; nothing is to be preferred to the Work of God. (Ch. 43) Many factors enter into tl~e complexity of monastic liturgical life, but in all its detail there is no confusion: it is all to be reduced to the simplicity of seeking God's glory in all things.4 It is based on the intelligent creature's conscious dwelling in the divine presence which strives to pour itself out in the humblest praises of the Eternal Goodness. It realizes that whatever perfection is achieved in the ascetical order is the work of God in the human soul. True monks eagerly praise the Lord working in them.~ It is a lifelong giving of aThis question is treated most attractively by one of the Order's outstanding asceti-cal leaders, Dom Germain Morin. Morin, The Ideal of the Monastic Life Found in the Apostolic Age. London, R. ~ T. Washbourne, 1914. Ch. 7, "Liturgical Praqer." 4The Benedictine motto, Ur in omnibus gloriIicetur Deus (usually abbreviated U.I.O.G.D.), That in all things God may be glorified, was early chosen by the saint's followers. While it occurs in the Rule (Ch. 57) in an isolated question dealing with material goods and their disposal, it perfectly expresses the general purpose of the monastic vocation. ~This phrase, taken from the Prologue to the Rule, is a favorite of all the classic commentators, and is accepted as a workable definition of grace. 10 danuar~/, 1951 BENEDICTINE SPIRITUALITY thanks to the Father of Mercies, an unceasing acknowledgment and atonement of imperfection and fault, an ever-renewed plea to be worthy to perform those works which are pleasing in God's sight. The whole effort is carefully regulated, for the liturgy is the solemn, official, public worship of the Church. Whoever would participate in the glorification of God by a monastic choir, or even study its execution of the sacred liturgy, must set aside all concepts of prayer that admit of mediocrity and external-ism. Here the goal is perfection, the absolute best of which men are capable through correspondence with the grace of vocation. Natu-rally, many allowances must be made. All the days of his life the monk will be humiliated in his attempt to offer a worthy praise of God, or, in St. Benedict's favorite phrase, to perform God's work. Although he knows that his effort is unfailingly acceptable .before the Divine Majesty, and that scrupulosity must be avoided at all costs, the religious realizes full well that he will never attain the goal of his desires: as a special gift, importing a most privileged union with God, prayerful love far exceeds all of man~s other abilities. More realistically, the monk knows that he can never wholly set aside the dread of praying unworthily, an offense that would pro-voke the Divine anger. "Cursed be he that doth the work of the Lord deceitfully." (Jeremias, 48:10) By his calling the monk is a professional in the worship of the Church: all his distinctive duties must be thorougMy colored, and even, to an extent, absorbed, by prayer's domination of his life. He devotes several carefully chosen hours each day and night to the chanting of the sacred psalmody--ideally, hours around which all other occupations are made to center, not hours inserted into a crowded schedule after other duties have been granted first considera-tion. He dwells in the monastery (repeatedly St. Benedict calls it the house of God), whose site is carefully chosen to help keep him at a distance from the world's distractions. He is freed from secular concerns in order to be intent solely on giving glory to God and achieving his own spiritual welfare. All the necessities of life are provided for him, so that care for material things may present no problem: in harmony with the whole plan, the virtue of detachment (St. Benedict does not use the word poverty in the sense now uni-versally adopted by religious) is interpreted as implying not so much self-denial as the consecration to God's glory of all they possess by a family of property owners. The works of obedience assigned to 11 BERNARD A. SAUSE Revleu~ [or Religious him are a studied part of the program, not vice versa. The Individual's Progress Understandably, the Rule, composed in the second quarter of the sixth century reflects and interprets the worthiest thought of the Golden Age that had preceded it. Its concept of the Universal Church and of the individual autonomous unit of Christ's Mystical Body, under the headship of him who is firmly believed to hold the place of Christ, is singularly free from the influences of individualism and subjectivism that have so often plagued the Church in subsequent eras. In its unpretentious way--for it deals always with the family, a small unit~it accentuates man's social nature to a degree that may not readily be appreciated today. The choir's prayerfulness; the good zeal exercised within the monastic family (Ch. 72), and by the family in its external works; the spirit of obedience as the pres-ence of Christ in the midst of the brethren rather than a legalistic treatment of the superior's rank and authority; corporateness of vir-tue; love of local tradition--a family trait, certainly; concentration on being rather than the more modern exhortation to action, are trends, attitudes, and ideals which will want long and careful study from today's novice before he can successfully translate them into action. But however helpful attention to his social nature may be in aiding him to be a worthy religious and man of the Church, and however deeply he may have drunk of the doctrine that all good comes to him through his monastic family, whereas all evil befalls him only through separation from the sa.me,6 the monk is soon brought to the realization that he remains an individual. He must also care intensely for this phase of his spiritual formation. The force of the good example of those about him, the spiritual assistance of his companions in religion, the,brotherly word of encouragement, the exhortations, private and public correction of faults, the infinite variety that "the aid of many brethren" (Ch. 1) may assume, are perceived by the individual, primarily. They wield a great force in his moral life. Humilitg St. Benedict has been called, with excellent right, the Church's 6This question is proposed at length in the meditations on stability, the vow of attachment to one's monastic family in: Sause, Bernard A., O.S.B., The School of the Ldrd's 8ert~ice. St. Meinrad, Indiana, Grail Press, 1948. vol. 2, p. 57 f. 12 January, 1951 BENEDICTINE SPIRITUALITY Doctor of Humility. St. Bernard, St. Thomas, and other ascetical masters, quote his exposition of the virtue at length and without modification. Chapter 7 of St. Benedict's Rule is a spiritual master-piece and commands the attention of any person who would learn humility profoundly. It applies the virtue to every phase of relig!ous striving to serve God--from fearful, conscious dwelling in the Divine presence, to control of laughter and the manner of walking. Obedience The distinctive feature of Benedictine asceticism has always been recognized as the spirit of obedience--which in most of its mani-festations is scarcely distinguishable from Benedict's presentation of humility. Obedience harmonizes and makes powerful the spiritual forces in the life of every follower of Christ. Created to be balanced and mutually helpful in man's nature, in a limited likeness to the per-fect harmony in Jesus Christ, the, mutual aid between intellect and will was destroyed by sin. Even in the new order, under the Second Adam, with the light of faith and the sacramental aids for the will, the struggle continues all the days of man's life on earth. Obedience restores the harmony, and in a vivid sense makes the monk like his Divine Model. In the opening sentence of the Prologue to his Rule, Benedict" calls monasticism "a return to God through the labor of obedience." In a broad sense one may say t.hat every chapter that follows is an unfolding of that statement. Commentators on the Rule delight in referring to St. Bernard's emphasis on the love motive necessary for ideal obedience: "Perfect obedience knows no law. It is bound by no restrictions. It is not content with the limitations of profession, but is drawn by the most powerful impulse of the will, under the influence of grace, into the realms of love. It submits unhesitatingly to all thai is enjoined, with the vigor of a generous and cheerful spirit , . , and heedless of ways and means, is infinite in its liberty. It is willing to embrace even impossible things, and confident of God's help, obeys from love even in such extremes.''7 Ideal Approach St. Benedict's treatment of obedience may serve to focus the attention on a point that may not sufficiently be appreciated in reading any one of the four accepted Rules by the great founders of religious bodies. The Rule stresses ideal obedience. For Benedict Bernard, Liber de pcaeeepto et dispensationeo c. 6. P.L. 182:868. 13 BERNARD A. SAUSE Review for Religious there is no such thing as mediocrity, or mere extern'alsubmission. For him an act of obedience must be "acceptable to God and agree-able to men." (Ch. 5) The virtue permits of "no delay in execu-tion, as if the matter had been commanded by God Himself." (Ibid) The same zealous imitation of Christ out of love of God (Ch. 7, third degree of humility) expresses itself in phrases denoting the quality of the monk's submission, like: "the ready step of obedience," "without hesitation, delay, lukewarmness, murmuring, or com-plaint." (Ch. 5) It is to be performed cheerfully. Benedict never descends from his ideal. In his P~ule he treats only of perfect obedience; other than that he mentions only the punish-ments for disobedience. With him the emphasis is not on what must ' be done to fulfil the law: he takes that for granted. On that assumption he builds. Positive human law is generally concerned with the minimum necessary to preserve an ideal. St. Benedict is intent on the maximum that man can offer his Creator. The thought may be viewed from another angle: the more uni-versal a society, the broader the concessions and the more numerous the provisions of tolerance that must be made for the weaknesses of human nature, the more general and sweeping, and easy-of-acceptance the norms which must be shared by everyone. By contrast, the smaller and more unified the group, the more sharply defined and intensified its ideal. The monastic family for which th~ t~ule is designed is large enough to embody and give expression to the social principles of religious life in common. It is compact and unified enough to preserve the most distinctive features that mark a group of men devotedly seeking God. Tile Lectio Divina An ideal of this kind must constantly be fostered by every means possible: in this case obviously by study, instruction, exhortation, good example. St. Benedict, who drew no distinctions among those who gave acceptable proof of sincerely seeking God, realized the importance of what is today commonly called spiritual reading for monastic formation. He demands several hours a day of this pious exercise which was more a leisurely study and mastering of revealed doctrine than the fretful flitting from page to page that moderns call reading, more an approach to God than an-ostentatious acquaintance with titles, authors' li~¢es and styl~s of writing, rather for spiritual upbuilding (aedi[icatio) than faithfulness in fulfilling a half-hour of the day's horarium. 14 Januarg, 195, I BENEDICTINE SPIRITUALITY Nothing Is to Be Preferred to the Love of Christ If the spirituality of the sons of St. Benedict has a distinguishing mark, it is that it is eminently Christocentric. The Master of Monte-cassinb employs an identical expression three times: Nothing is to be preferred to the love of Christ. Every line o~ the Rule seeks to induce the monks to translate that love into action. In the fourteen and a half centuries of their existence, the reli-gious who have borne the name of the Patriarch of Western Monks have contributed only two insertions into the Roman Ritual: the Sign of St. Maur, imparted ycith a relic of the True Cross and desig-nated with the name of St. Benedict's first disciple only because he first imparted it, and because his name is invoked in the ceremony; ¯ and the blessing of the medal-cross of St. Benedict, which is likewise a manifestation of complete confidence in the Sign of Salvation. Love of Christ underlies Benedict's every appeal. The perfection of obedience is that "for the love of God a man subject himself to a superior in all obedience, imitating the Lord, of whom the Apostle saith, 'He became obedient unto death.' " The love motive for other works, which presupposes the ascent of all the degrees of humility, guarantees the perfect fulfilment of every virtue. As nothing else ever can do, love of Christ leads to the worthiest prayer, the most acceptable offering of the Sacrifice, to intimacy of union with God. Contemplative Nature or: Monasticism As the monk continues to live under the grace-filled inspirations of his professed way of life, and is careful to hold himself ever free from distracting attachments (however good they may be), he dis-covers something of the powerful attraction of recollectedness (he has outgrown insistence on rules of silence--Benedict speaks much more often of judicious and charitable speech than of £ilence), the way of humility, the filial fear, the spirit of compunction that leads to inti-mate union with God. His whole carefully-regulated life, the daily liturgy's richness of thought, the environment of the enclosure, his private prayer, separation from the world, the humble works of obe-dience, the consecration of his whole being to God at the altar, will not allow him to remain silent. Now he must speak to God--no longer only in the prescribed and official prayers, but freely, gener-ously, in his own words unhesitatingly addressed to his FatheL pouring out the protestations of his love. Correspondence with the graces of monasticism bege'ts a love so intense that it informs one's every action: it seeks every possible means to prove itself. When the 15 C. A. HERBST Review for Religfous professed person begins to live on this plane, he realizes that the Father of Mercies, who is never outdone in generosity, has fulfilled all the hopes of profession morning. He has learned the spirituality of Benedict.of Montecassino, Patriarch of the Monks of the West. That, in fact, is the promise of the Master to his every follower. In the concluding paragraph of the Prologue to his Rule, he states: "As we advance in the religious life and faith, we shall run the way of God's commandments with expanded hearts [that is, with an ever increasing generosity] and unspeakable sweetness of love; so that never departing from His guidance, and persevering in the monastery in His doctrine until death, we may by patience share in the sufferings of Christ, and be. found worthy to be coheirs with Him of His kingdom." "Behold This Head:. ." C. A. Herbst, S.J. THERE is a copybook seven by nine inches containing sixty-four pages treasured at Paray-le-Monial in France. It is the life of St. Margaret Mary written in her own hand, an account of her spiritual life and of the dealings of the Sacred Heart with her. Under obedience, with great pain, she wrote this Autobiographg. (Auto-biography: Life of Saint Margaret Marg Alacoque Written bg Her-self, Visitation Library, Roselands, Walmer, Kent, 1930.) From that little book, it seems to me, one can best learn to know, under-stand, and practice devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. We learn there from her whose heart Christ found ready and so like His own, and from Our Lord Himself, the nature and practice of this world devotion which is everybody's devotion. One finds there a statement, a complaint, a request, and a promise. "Behold this Heart, Which has loved men so much, that It has spared nothing, even to exhausting and consuming Itself, in order to testify to them Its love" (.Autobiograpbg, No. 92). This is the " statement. "So much." How much? Love is proved by deeds rather than by words. "He loved me and delivered himself for me" (Gal. 2:20). "He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the cross" (Phil. 2:8). Our Lord, our Creator, 16 Januar~/, 1951 BEHOLD TH~S HEART came from eternal life to temporal death for love of us. "Who for us men, and for our salvation, came down from heaven; and was in-carnate by the Holy Ghost, of the Virgin Mary; and was made man. He was crucified also for us, suffered under Pontius Pilate, and was buried." All these wonderful feats of love our beloved Champion has done for us to win our love. And yet, in the very same breath with this statement of His love for us must come The complaint. ". and in return I receive from the greater number nothing but ingratitude by reason of their irreverence and sacrileges, and by the coldness and contempt which they show Me in this Sacrament of Love. But what I feel the most keenly is that it is hearts which are consecrated to Me that treat Me thus." (Ibid.) Iwonder who could count the insults and outrages committed against Our Lord in the Holy Eucharist these nineteen hundred years! I wonder who could calculate the amount of ingratitude and irreverence and sacrilege and coldness and contempt shown the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament by religious, for these are the "hearts which are consecrated to Me." The deepest wounds and the ones slowest to heal are inflicted by rejected love. Men and women are driven to desperation and to self-destruction by this. Sins against Jesus Christ in the sacrament of His love wound His Sacred Heart very deeply. Sins committed by religious against the Sacred Heart whom they have chosen as their B~loved for life are especially hateft~l to Him. ~ Our Lord's Requests The request Our Lord made is manifold. "In the first place thou shalt receive Me in Holy Communion as often as obedience will per-mit thee, whatever mortification or humiliation it may cause thee, which thou must take as pledges of My love" (ibid.). Love longs for union with the beloved. Our Lord wants us to take His sacred Body and precious Blood in Holy Communion as food because food is most intimately united with us. He wants us to be united with ~he soul as frequently and continuously as possible, too. The mortifi-cation or humiliation frequent Communion might bring St. Mar-garet Mary in 1675, when it could easily be considered the mark of a presumptuous or proud soul is, of course, absent n6w. "Thou shalt, moreover, communicate on the First Friday of each month" (ibid.). The fact gives the clear, strong response to this request. One has but to enter a church on the First Friday and see a whole congregation rise as one man and go to Holy Commun- 17 C. A. HERBST Review [or Religious ion in Order to realize what.a revolution this desire of Our Lord has wrought. One readily notices that this request is more general than the nine consecutive First Fridays in reward fo~ which Christ made the "Great Promise." "Every night between Thursday and Friday I will make thee share in the mortal sadness which I was pleased to feel in the Garden of Olives, and this sadness, without thy being able to understand it, shall reduce thee to a kind of agony harder to endure than death it-self. And in order to bear Me company in the humble prayer that I then offered to My Father, in the midst of My anguish, thou shalt rise between eleven o'clock and midnight, and remain prostrate with Me for an hour, not only to appease the divine anger by begging mercy for sinners, but also which I felt at that time apostles~ which obliged me watch one hour with Me. shall teach thee." (Ibid.) to mitigate in some way thebitterness on finding Myself abandoned by My to repr.oach them for not being able to During that hour thou shalt do what I Each Thursday night Christ invites us to share in the sadness and agony of death He underwent during His Passion. He asks comp'hssion with Him, companionship, prayer for sinners, rep.aration for desertion by His apostles.These things are very consoling to the. Sacred Heart. Feast of the Sacred Heart "Therefore, I ask of thee that the Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi be set apart for a special Feast to honour My Heart, by communicating on that day and making reparation to It by a solemn act, in order to make amends, for the indignities which It has received during the time it has been exposed on the altars" (ibid., No. 92). This was the climax of the desires of the Sacred . Heart. St. Margaret Mary celebrated this feast in a little way with her novices on St. Margaret's day, July 20, 1685. "This drew upon me, 'and also upon them, many humiliations and mqrtific.ations, for I was accused of wishing to introduce a. new devotion" (ibid., No. 95). It is a long and painful task to bring.into the liturgy the Church a feast founded on a private revelation, and its advocates also trod the way of humiliations and mortifications. But in 1765 the Holy Father Clement XIII approved the Mass and Office of the Sacred Heart. Plus IX extended it to th~ universal Church in 1856. It was raised to the rank of a feast .of the fir.st class with an octave by Plus XI in 1929. The same Sovereign Pontiff ordered that every year on the feast a solemn and specially formuiated act of reparation 18 danuar~, 1951 BEHOLD THIS HEART to the Sacred Heart of ,Jesus be made in all the churches of the world. And since, as the twentieth century dawned; Pope Leo XIII had con-secrated the whole human race to the Sacred Heart, this request of Our Lord was solemnly fulfilled by His spouse, the Church. The promise, too, is manifoldand, as is the way with Christ, the reward far outweighs in richness the required work. "I prom!se thee that My Heart shall expand Itself to shed in abundance the ih-fluence of Its divine love upon tfiose who shall thus honour It, and cause.It to be honoured" (ibid., No. 92). We have to go to St. Mar-garet Mary's letters for more details." "He promises that all those devoted to this Sacred Heart shall never perish and that, as It is the source of all blessings, He will shower them in abundance upon every place where a picture of this Sacred Heart is exposed to be loved and honored. By this means He will restore broken homes. He will help and protect those who are in any necessity. He will spread the sweet unction of His ardent charity upon all religious communities in which a picture of. this Sacred Heart shall be honored. He will turn aside the just anger of God. He will restore souls to His grace when they shall have, fallen from it by sin." (Letter to Mother de Saumaise, August 24, 1685.) . With regard to the,"Great Promise" that the Sacred Heart "will grant to all those who communicate on the first Friday in nine consecutive months, the grace of final perseyerance" let Father Bainvel's remark suffice: "If I am not mistaken, the con-clusion will always be that the 'Great Promise' is something unique." Our Lord told "the beloved disciple .of His Sacred Heart" that He would fulfill these promises in return for the love and repar.at.ion shown Him in the practices He recommended. The ,substance of devotion to the Sacred Heart is love and reparation. His manifold request and .repeated statements and complaints show this clearly. OUR CONTRIBUTORS BERNARD A. SAUSE, the author of The School of the Lord's Service, a three volume set of meditations on the Rule of St. Benedict, is dean df St. Benedict's theological seminary at Atchison, Kansas. CLARENCE MCAULIFFE and C. A. HERBST are members of the' faculty of St. Mary's College, St~ 'Marys, Kansas. M. RAYMOND is a monk at the Abbey of Gethsemani, Trappist, Kentucky. ADAM C. ELLIS, G. AUGUSTINE.ELLARD, and ,JEROME BREUNIG are members'of, the editorial board of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 19. Quinquennial Report:, 1951 Adam C. Ellis, S.3. THE Sacred Co,n, gregation of Religious issued a new decree on 2uly 9, 1947 regarding the quinquennial report to be made by religious orders and congregations, by societies living in com-fiaon, and by kecular institutes." In this decree the obligation was extended to all superiors general ofthe three groups mentioned; and a new questionnaire to be followed in making the report was announced as in preparation. Finally, a new annual report was made obligatory on all the superiors mentioned above. The text of this new decree was printed in the REVIEW for September, 1949, pp. 234- 240, with introduction and comment. When the forms for the new annual report were ready for distri-bution and the.new questionnai.re was available, the late Cardinal Lavitrano (d. August 2, 1950), then Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, addressed a circular letter to all superiors general in which he gave some practical instructions for making out both the quinquennial and annual reports. The official English ver-sion of the new questionnaire for the quinquennial report was pub-lished in the REVIEW, 2anuary to September inclusive, 1950. And in the November number, pp. 309-316, under the title "First An-nual Repoort," some practical suggestions for making out this report contained in Cardinal Lavitrano's letter were given, together with some others, in order to help our readers fill out these forms for the annual report for the first lime. The purpose of this final article is to offer helpful directives for drawing up the quinquennial report, and to indicate some practical conclusions to be drawn from the questionnaire itself. General Directives 1) Who must make this report in 19517 (a) All lay congre-gations ofreligious men (Brothers). (b) Likewise'the superiors general of all religious institutes of women in all the countries of America (North, Central, and South America). 2) In what language should the report be whiten? Clerical in-stitutes must answer the questions in Latin; lay institutes, Brothers and Sisters, may use the vernacular, that is, either English or French, 20 QUINQUENN!AL REPORT German, Italian, Portuguese, or Spanish.1 3) May the quinquennial report be t~/ped? It not only may, but should be typed if this can be done. Otherwise, if written by hand, the handwriting must be clear and good ink .used. The report should be typed or written on good bond paper, not too heavy, and not translucent. ' " 4) Must the question be stated before each answer? No, it is not necessary to include the question with the answer, but it suffices to put the number of the question before the answer. 5) What method should be followed in answering the questions? Always answer the question with a complete sentence, never with a mere "yes" or "no." Give briefly and clearly all the information pertinent to the subject. An example or two may help. Question 24 a) reads: "Is the general council at present up to its full member-ship?" The answer might be: "Yes, the generaI council is up to fulI membership at present. One of the councilors died during the year 1950, but another councilor was elected in conformity with the pre-scriptions of our constitutions." Again, question. 190 states: "Was the delivery of the dowry made according to law?" The answer might be simply: "We have no dowry." 6) When must the report be handed in? Any time durin.g the year 1951. But it should cover the five-year period from 1946-1950 inclusive. 7) Must all the councilors sign the report? Yes, all the coun-cilors and the superior general must sign the report. Hence the report, when completed, should be given for a private reading to each of the persons who are obliged to sign it; after they have done so, it should be discussed in a common meeting and corrected or improved, according to circumstances, if that be considered necessary by the majority, before it is signed by all. ~-There are three official Latin texts of the new questionnaire or Elenchus Quaes-tionum: (1) 342 questions for pontifical institutes; (2) 322 questions for diocesan institutes; (3) 171 questions for independent monasteries and houses. However, bnly the first, that for pontifical institutes, has been translated into Eng-lish. Furthermore, in the questionnaire for diocesan religious, there are three ques-tions which do not appear in that for p6ntifical institutes, and in the questionnaire for independent monasteries and religious houses there are fifteen such questions. ThoSe using text two or three, for diocesan institutes and independent monasteries respectively, will have to find their questions in the larger text for pontifical insti-tutes. To facilitate this task, a chart has been drawn up giving the correlation of numbers for the three texts, and on the back of this chart have been printed the additional questions just referred to. A copy of this chart may be had free of charge by" sending a self-addressed, stamped (three cents) envelope, to the author of this article at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 21 ADAM C. ELLIS Reoieto for Religious 8) What should a councilor do after he has voiced his objections to the superior and to the o[her coimcilors in cbunc[l meeting, but to n6 avail? First of all, he must sign the report along with the others. Then he may, if he wishes to do so, submit his owh judgment to that of the unanimous contrary opinion, and rest satisfied. Finally, if he feels bound in conscience to report the matter to the. Holy See, he may do so in a private letter, being careful to state only objective facts in his minority report. 9) To whom is the report to be sent? Orders, congregations with simple vows, societies living, in common, and secular institutes approved by the Hotel See must send their reports directly to the Sacred Congregation of Religious; address to. Very Rev. Secretary, Congregation of Religious, Pallazzo delle Congregazioni, Piazza S. Callisto, Rome, Italy. All diocesan institutes, independent mon-asteries ~nd houses are to send their report to the local ordinary of their mother house. When he has read it, he will add his comments to the report and then send it on to the Sacre~l Congregation of Reli-gious. If the diocesan congregation, society, or secular institute has houses in other dioceses, the local ordinary of the mother house must send copies of the report to all those local ordinaries as well, and'after receiving their comments, add them to his own before sending the report to the Holy See. 10) In the case of a ponti£cal institute of religious women, who sends the report to the Hol~ See? Is it the local ordinary of the mother house, or the superior general? The decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious (No. VII) states explicitly that the supe- .riot general is tO send in the report after she has obtained the signa-ture of the local ordinary in conformity with canon 510. 1 1) What is the import of the signature of the local ordinary? Must he read the report?' The local ordinary has no obligation to read the quinquennial report of a pontifical institute. He merely signs it in order to authenticate (subsignare) the signatures of the superior general and her council members. Practical Hints from the New Questionnaire 1) From question 4 for diocesan institutes one draws the con- ¯ clusion that it is the mind of the Holy See that diocesan congrega-tions should apply to the Holy See for the status of a pontifical con-gregation (iuris pontitfcii) when they have developed sufficiently to meet the requirements. 2) Similarly, from question 9 for diocesan congregations it may 22 danttarv, 1951 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT be inferred that they are not to be divided iiato provinces. 3) Religious are not to undertake new works, whether spiritual or temporal, which are beyond the scope of the special end of their. constitutions. Question 5 asks whether this has been done, and by what authority. 4) For the establishment of a new religious house, a written contract should be drawn up in accordance with canon law and with due regard to civil law (question 21). 5) The superior general has the obligation of promulgating decrees and decisions of the general chapter, and of enforcing them (questions 35- 37). 6) The councilors of religious superiors~--gener.al, provincial and local--are to be given due freedom of speech: and the common law as well as the particular law must always be observed in the decisions, appointments, and voting of whatever kind (question 53). 7) Matters in which the common or particular law grants to councilors a deliberative or a consultive vote must be submitted to them for their consideration in common; hence meetings of superiors and their councilors must be held regularly (questions 49-51). 8) Superiors are expected to observe the provisions of .canon law and of the constitutions regarding both the comm6n obligations of religious, and the special obligations of their own office (question 62). 9) It is the desire of the Sacred Congregation of Religious that, where it can be done conveniently, a confessor should be available in the chapel before the reception of Holy Communion (question 85). 10) Superiors are to see to it that religious are allowed a suitable time for preparation for and thanksgiving after Holy Communion (question 85). 11) The administration of the property of a religious institute must be carried on not arbitrarily, but according to the common law and to the constitutions (question 109). 12) When for just reasons the permission of the Holy See is obtained tO engage in business, every semblance bf fraud as well as of avarice is to be diligently avoided, and care must be taken to see that the religious occupied in these business dealings may not suffer spir, itual harm (question 130). '13) The Sacred C~?ngregation of Religious considers it a grave abuse to delay the profession of a novice because the expenses of the postulancy or. novitiate had not been paid (question 164). 23 January, 1951 QUINQUENNIAL REPORT 14) No religious once professed of temporary vows should ever be without vows because of a failure to renew them at the proper time (question 200). 15) The Sacred Congregation of Religious wishes that the use of the telephone and of the radio be regulated by superiors and chap-ters, and that radio programs be censored (questions 214, 215). 16) Religious superiors are to watch over and assist those of their subjects who are pastors (canon 631, §§1-2) and, in case of need, admonish and correct them (question 292). 17) Superiors (a) are strictly obliged to give their subjects ade-quate preparation for their work, whether it be teaching, nursing, or other corporal or spiritual ministry, and (b) they should see to it that their subjects get suitable food and sleep; and (c) that in the exercise of external works the religious life be'fostered, and all moral dangers avoided (questions 301-311). Conclusion We have given a considerable amount of space in the REVIEW to Reports to Rome, both to the new questionnaire for the quinquennial report as well as to the new annual report. At first sight one might conclude that these reports are of interest only to the superiors who have the obligation of making them. But if we examine the ques-tionnaire we shall find "that it contains a very practical and fairly complete statement of the law of the Church regarding religious, with continual references to the canons of the Code of Canon Law which are generally cited,' and with frequent allusions to the decrees, instructions, and jurisprudence of the Holy See. Hence all religious can read the questionnaire with profit. The questionnaire likewise affords a safe norm of action for superiors, consultors, treasurers, and masters of novices since it provides them with a valuable reminder of their duties. Hi~her superiors can find in it direction for govern-ment, and a stimulus to action, since it provides for them matter for the study and examination of their duties and obligations. Finally it provides a safe guide for the visitation of houses inasmuch as it gives the principal points upon which action is to be taken during the visitation. May all religious derive profit from it, and find in it the ideals and standards of the Holy See in their regard, as well as a norm for the solution of many poi.nts which may appear to be obscure or controverted. 24 Unworl:hy h inist:ers ot: !:he Sacramen!:s Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. THE attitude of Catholics towards their priests differs radically from that of Protestants towards their clergymen. The Protestant pastor is expected to possess the social graces. He must keep in good contact with his flock. He should be a good story teller, a hearty hand-shaker, a sinceie sympathizer. He should have a pleasing voice since one of his principal functions is to lead congregational prayers and songs. He must have some preaching ability, but he must be careful on what subjects he exercises it. He is not likely to" be criticized i£ he speaks on government planning or child welfare or home economics even though he forges no link between such subjects and man's salvation. If he deals with reli-gious topics, he must confine himself to a limited number of moral questions or to a few hazy dogmatic generalities. He ought to be an adept organizer, and the more dances, bazaars, dubs, social gatherings he organizes, the more satisfied will his people be. If he is found wanting in too many of these endowments, he is likely to find him-self a pastor with a much diminished congregation, or on pastor besieged by an indignant congregation which will have him ousted from his post. This may not be true of all Protestant denomination~ and parishes, but it certainly holds for many of them. Catholics, too, would like to see their priests gifted with many of the aptitudes demanded of the Protestant clergyman, but they con-sider them as secondary. They expect their priests to be men of God (Protestants also expect good example and a certain righteousness in their spiritual leaders), but even moral deviations do not make the priest unbearable. Catholics realize that the priest, whatever his lack of talent or his delinquen.cies, holds a sacred office. He has been con-secrated eternally to God to do, not his own, but God's work. He may be morose, anti-social. His sermons may have the effect of a mother's lullaby. His singing may be a series of auditory shocks. But the principal work he has to do does not depend on his personal capabilities. He says Mass. He confers the sacraments. 'These are his prime duties. Everything else is secondary. And it is a marvel of God's operation in the faithful that most of them realize that their 25 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Reiigious prie.sts., can administer-beneficial sacraments and celebrate effiicacious Masses even though they are '.'bad priests." Our people are aware that the !~/Iass and the sacraments have a God-given eff~cacy that can-not be frustrated by unworthy ministers. The subjective spiritual condition of the priest cannot impede the divine effects of those reli-gious rites which were instituted by Christ Himself, because they operate automatically. What Are the Reasons? It might be profitable, however, for us to examine the reasons for this. Why is it that a callous sinner can confer a sacrament which will bestow its spiritual effects on a recipient who is properly dis-posed? Why is is that sacramental ministers who do not have even the Catholic faith, such as apostates, rationalists, heretics, schismatics, Jews, pagans, can nevertheless, confer a sacrament or sacraments without interfering with their power to sanctify those who receive them? The facts are certain. Unl~oly ministers and faithless min-isters can do so. But how do we know that Christ Himself wanted His sacraments to operate independently of the holiness and faith of their ministers? Before answering this question, it might be well to insist that in all cases the minister must place the external rite of the sacrament correctly. He must properly unite what we call the "matter" and the "form" of the sacrament. Take the example of Baptism. The minister must always use true natural water. He must so apply this water to the recipient that it touches the skin and flows. He must at the same time pronounce the prescribed formula of words with his lips. Since baptism can be validly administered by any sane adult whatever, no special power deriving from orders is required in its minister. Essentials for Validity/ In all the sacraments except baptism and matrimony, however, the extraordinary spiritual power bestowed by ordination is essential for validity. No matter how holy a minister may be, therefore, his efforts to produce sacramental graces are in vain unless he administers conectly the basic external elements of a sacrament. Even should this be done, no sacramental graces are communicated unless the min-ister is endowed with the unique spiritual power conferred by ordi-nation. Once so much is assumed, we now ask why 'it is that a def~tive spiritual condition of the minister, such as the state of mot- 26 Januarg, 1951 UNWORTHY MINISTERS tal sin or lack of faith, cannot prevent a sacrament from imparting its graces automatically to a person who is sufficiently disposed to receive it fruitfully. It should be observed that reason alone, independent of God's revelation, could not have decided the correct answer to this ques-tion. God surely could have, had He so willed, made the validity of all th~ sacraments contingent on the faith and holiness of their minister. Had He done so, ministers would have had an additional incentix;e to foster their faith and to preserve the state of grace. Fur-thermore, reason left to itself might argue that a ministbr bereft of faith and holiness could not be an active agent in the administration of sacramentsl since these.by their very nature infuse grace and aug-ment the v.irtue of faith. How can one who does not possess the Holy Spirit confer the" Holy Spirit on another? These and other rational considerations cotild be advanced to prove that ministers of sacraments must have faith and at least the state of grace. But although our faith is always reasonable, we hever learn it by having recourse to reason as its main conduit. The object of faith is God's revelation which is proposed to us proximately by the Church. Hence faced by the present problem, we seek the Church's teaching and tra-ditions. But we shall show later on that, even from the rational side, we can advance excellent reason why God made His sacraments independent of the faith and holiness of their ministers. No Rebaptisms It had been the custom in the Church from her earliest days, just as it is a.t p[esent, not to rebaptize heretics when they were converted to the Catholic church. Such heretics had already 'been baptized in their own sects and so by heretical ministers. But if the rite had been properly administered, the Church simply took for granted that such baptisms were valid even though conferred by ministers who rejected, either culpably or inculpably, part of the true faith. Such converts from heresey were obliged merely t6 make a profession of faith and to go to the sacrament of penance. About 220 A.D., Agrippinus, Bishop of Carthage in Africa, began to inveigh against this custom. He declared that such converts should also be rebaptized because their previous baptism was invalid by the very fact that its minister had not possessed the full Catholic faith. The illustrious St. Cyprian, successor to Agrippinus in the See of Carthage, sanctioned the same opinion and insisted on its observance in the dioceses of Africa. When, however, he consulted 27 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review [or Religious (about 254 A.D.) Pope St. Stephen about the ma~ter, he receipted the following reply: "If, therefore, heretics of any sect whatever come to you, add nothing to the traditional practice of granting them absolution." This decision of St. Stephen's, based as it was on the ancient custom, came to prevail despite temporary opposit'ion in Africa and Asia Mi.nor. Thus we find St. Augustine, looking back on the dis-pute a hundred and some odd years later, declaring: "According to o Blessed Cyprian, his predecessor Agrippinus had been the first to "amend" this most wholesome custom (of not rebaptizing heretics) ; rather should we believe that Agrippinus was the first to corrupt, not to correct it." So, too, St. Vincent of Lerins some years later pro-nounces this judgment .on the dispute: "The antiquity (the custom of not rebaptizing heretics) was retained, the novelty was exploded.'~ Finally the Council of Trent expressly defined the matter as an article of faith against the Protestant innovators of the sixteenth century: "If anyone says that baptism which is conferred in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, with the ifitention of doing what the Church does, is not a true baptism, let him be anathema." It should be noted that this definition is concerned directly with baptism alone. Nevertheless .it is certain that heretical ministers, provided they possess the power and place the matter and form cor-rectly with the intention of doing what the Church does, can ~¢alidly confer any sacrament whatever. All the sacraments are la~ien with. the merits of Christ. That is why they confer grace automatically. If, then, heresy in the minister cannot prevent the spontaneous infu-sion of grace by baptism, neither can it prevent this infusion of grace by the other sacraments. So, a true bishop, even a heretic, can val-idly confirm or ordain. Heretical priests, if validly ordained, can say Mass and administer Extreme Unction. The only ex~ception is the sacrament of penance. For this sacrament not only priestly power. but also ecclesiastical jurisdiction is necessary .for validity. If this jurisdiction is wanting, absolution becomes invalid, but it does not become invalid because the minister is a heretic or an apostate. The invalidity proceeds solely from lack of jurisdiction. It is, therefore, universally true that heresy in the minister does not make any sacra-ment invalid. Moreover, although the controversy of the third century was concerned v~ith heretical ministers only, we know for certain from 28 danuary, 1951 UNWORTHY MINISTERS other sources.that ministers who possess no trace whatever of divine faith, such as rationalists, apostates, pagans, can validly administer baptism. Hence the practice of urging even pagan doctors or nurses to baptize infants, when they are in danger of death and no one else is available should be retained and even spread. The Council of Florence declares, though it does not define as of faith, the following: "In case of necessity not only a priest or deacon, but even a layman or laywoman, yes, even a pagan and a heretic is able to baptize, pro-vided he observes the rites of the Church and intends to do what the Church does." Can Sinners Act Validly? But these arguments do not answer the question whether a sinner also can confer a sacrament validly: Lack of faith is often incul-pable. ¯ A sincere Protestant, for example, even though he does not have the true faith in its fullness, may be in the state of grace. No sin attaches to his incorrect belief because he honestly believes it is correct. Hence a minister deprived of the true faith may be free from sin. On the other hand, a minister may retain the Catholic faith and yet be in the state of mortal sin. Thus a priest might be a sinner because he deliberately violated a grave precept and yet the faith of the priest remains intact. Hence it does not follow as a logical con-clusion that since an unbeliever can validly confer a sacrament, there-fore a sinner can do the same. Nevertheless, if we revert to the third century dispute previously outlined, we shall find that from it we can deduce that sinful min-isters cannot impede the efficacy of baptism. Some, at least, of the heretical ministers who had baptized converts who later were admitted into the Church without a second baptismal ceremony, were not only heretical, but were also formally heretical. They knew they were in error and yet they obstinately persisted in their error. To do this is to sin very seriously. Hence some of these ministers were at the same time heretics and sinners. Yet the validity of their baptisms was never questioned on this second score. St. Cyprian was worried about their unbelief, not about the culpability of that unbelief. Therefore the ability of a sinner to administer baptism validly was not even challenged. It is clear, then, that everybody admitted implicitly that sinners could validly baptize. " Should there be some doubt whether any of these heretical min-isters were culpable of their heresy, we should have to prove our point from a slightly different angle. Even though their heresy may 29 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoiew for Religious not have been sinful, this much at least is morally certain: some of those heretical ministers who had performed the baptism of later converts, were guilty of mortal sin of some kind. It would have been a .miracle if none of them during a period of two centuries had been in the state of sin when baptism was administered. Yet the fact remains that when their converts joined the Church, no one even dreamed of investigating the moral state of the heretical ministers who had baptized, them. Everybody, even St. Cyprian and his fol-lowers, realized that the results of such an investigation would have been irrelevant and could have had nothing to do with the validity of the baptisms conferred. Thus even those who denied the validity of baptism when performed by a heretic, implicitly conceded along with the whole Church that the sinfulness of the minister could not affect the sacrament's value. The Council of Trent When heretics such as the Donatists and later on the Waldensians and Albigensians (13th century) and still later the followers of Wycliffe and Huss (15th century)asserted that sinful ministers could not validly confer the sacraments, they were condemned by the Church officially. Finally in the sixteenth century when the leaders of the Protestant Revolt repeated the same falsehood, the Council of Trent proscribed the error as heretical when it declared: "If anyone says tl~at a minister in the state of mortal sin, provided he observes all the essentials which belong to the effecting or conferring of a sac-rament, neither effects or confers the sacrament, let him be anathema." Thus confirmation, extreme unction, confession and the other four sacraments lose none of their power to produce grace in their recipi-ents just because their miniiter happens to be a sinner Sacraments, therefore, truly produce their grace "'ex opere operato,'" not only independently of the merits of the subject, but also independently of the merits of the minister. The latter's deficiency in faith or his moral degradation cannot destroy or even weaken their efficacy. Fittingness of Doctrine Once we know that God has revealed this doctrine, we can find good reasons for His making the essential rites of His Church superior to the weakness of their ministers. In the first place, the minister of a sacrament is in the strictest sense, only a minister. He is not acting in his own name, but in that of Christ. He places rites that were instituted by Christ, not by himself. He places rites that bear within 30 d'anuary, 1951 UNWORTHY MINISTERS themselves the me~its oF Chris't, not his own merits. He is merely an official. Now we all know that officials can act just as efficaciously in performing their official functions regardless of their personal beliefs or delinquencies. A judge may not beIieve in the law he officially upholds, he may be a disgrace to his fellow citizens in his moral conduct, but his decisions do not lose any of their binding force because of them. He acts in the name of the State in rendering judgments, his verdicts are just as binding as those of a judge who believes in the laws and whose private life is blameless. Similarly, the.subjective beliefs and moral vagaries of the minister of sacraments cannot obstruct their grace-producing power as long as the rites are properly placed and conferred. Again, if the sanctifying activity of the sacraments were depend-ent on the faith or holiness of their ministers, the faithful would be beset by endless mental anxiety about their own spiritual welfare. They would wonder if the priest who says Mass is in the state of graceand a true believer. If not, they would get no grace from Holy Communion when he would distribute the Sacrament. Again, a dying sinner wants to confess his sins. His salvation depends on a good confession. But suppose the priest who hears his confession is himself a great sinner and, as a result, his absolution would be invalid? The penit.ent would lose his soul because he did not make an act of perfect .contrition. Anxietq Removed Moreover, the anxiety would be increased by the fact that we cannot know whether a 19erson has faith and is in the state of grace. Faith and holiness are primarily internal qualities. We cannot be certain that the minister of a sacrament has them. Our judgments about the holiness of others are necessarily superficial, since we can-not glimpse the inner workings,of any human soul. As a result of this principIe, we would never know for sure whether any sacrament was fruitful for us, and the entire Church, both clerical and lay, would be in a continual ferment. Such a spiritual condition would hardly be compatible with the reiterated promise of Christ that His followers would enjoy peace of soul. Finally, if the efficacy of the sacraments were contingent on the faith and sanctity of their ministers, certain lines of conduct incom-patible with the teaching of Christ would be almost necessarily engendered. The laity would be suspicious of their priests. They would pry into their private lives. They would be on the watch for 31 danuar~, 1951 UNWORTHY MINISTERS scandalous reports about them. They would misinterpret many of the actions of their priests. They would falsely conclude that a priest was a sinner when he was not. Priests would be reported some-times rightly, oftentimes wrongly, to their bishops. Bitterness, detraction, calumny, suspicion, rash judgments would tear apart the Mystical Body of Christ which on the Word of God Himself should be permeated with that harmony that flourishes between the different organs of a healthy human body. The doctrine, therefore, that the value of the sacraments does not depend on the faith or holiness of their ministers, a doctrine so for-eign to the Protestant mind, is part of our Catholic faith. It is a most consoling doctrine. Ou~ sanctity depends upon ourselves. This is true not only of our meritorious works, but even of that sanctity which results from reception of the sacrameni:s. Sacraments work ex opere operato. They produce their grace independently of the spiritual condition of their ministers. These ministers are expected to keep in the state of grace. They are obliged under pain of mortal sin not to administer a sacrament unless they are in this stale. But if they fail to observe this precept, they harm only themselves. They cannot harm thos~ who receive the sacraments from their hands. The recipient need worry only about himself and his own preparation. If .this preparation is substantially suff~dent, he himself will receive grace ex oiotre optrato and no human being cart prevent this Qod-given' effect. NEW APOSTOLIC CONSTITUTION Pope Plus XII has recefitly issued a new Apostolic Constitution Sponsa Christi. This document regulates the cloister or enclosure of nuns in such a way as to make it 15ossible for the nuns in postwar Europe and elsewhere tosupport themselves since r~any contemplative monasteries have lost all their endowments and are receiving relatively few vocations. The strictly papal cloister of canons 600-604 is limited to that part of the house in which the nuns habitually dwell (cells, dor-mitories, refectory, community room, private garden, and the like) under the title of major papal ~loister, while the rest of tl~e house and grounds within the monas-tic compound where the labors for the support of the community are carried on are called minor papal enclosure. The Apostolic Constitution also treats of Federations of Independent Monasteries and recommends them by pointing out their advantages without, however, making them of obligation. We hope to give our readers more information on this Apostolic Indult and on the subsequent Instruction of the Sacred Congregation ,of Religious. 32 I-low Are Your I::yes? M. Raymond, O.C.S.O. CARYLL HOUSELANDER claims that are like clouds of wind-blown seed," that within them lies the mysterious secret power that seeds have to brit~g forth life.'" I turned from her article to my mail. Three letters, so brief they are more fittingly called "notes," showed me that Caryll had been most conservative. She could have claimed more than seminal pow-ers for words. She could have said that there are occasions when they have all the might we now know lies in certain atoms. I was living one of those occasions. Let me tell you about it. The first letter I lifted told how an Archbishop, in a public address, had infqrmed his audience that the Trappistines in Wrent-ham, Massachusetts, had received more than four hundred applica-tions this past year. "Half of them," he added, "were from dissatis-fied religious.'" That word "dissatisfied" set me thinking. After a little while I wanted to write to the Archbishop and tell him the longer we live in religion, the more dissatisfied we grow. Not with our vocations. No! Not with our rules and constitutions. Indeed no! Not with our work or our fellow-workers. Daily our love for these grows. But we know a gnawing dissatisfaction which is nothing but a loneliness for heaven and a longing for the face of God. I could have given His Excellency example after example not only of middle-aged religious, but of diocesan priests, who have come to me thi~ past year with eyes turned avidly toward Gethsemani. Why? Because of that divin.e restlessness so aptly described by Augustine when he exclaimed: "Our hearts were made for Thee, O God, and they shall never know rest until . . ." Yes, the longer we live, the lonelier we grow for the sight of God and the sharper becomes our dissatisfaction with life on earth. I did not write that letter. For the longer I pondered the matter, the clearer I saw that there is another kind of dissatisfaction in the lives of some religious and I feared the Archbishop might have been referring to that. I know it should never be there. Occasionally I am puzzled beyond the telling to find it deeply ingrainedin indi-viduals, who have greyed in religion. I meditated and mused on this matter for days, not only because of what' the Archbishop had said, 33 M.~RAYMOND Reoieto ~:or Religions but because of two other letters in the same mail. A mother general had written: "The appointments were placed in the mail last evening, and I am glad to know they are accompanied by your prayers." A sister superior had written: "The Annual Thin Letters just came in, so pray . . ." You can see how those two sentences kept me thinking along the lines in which the Archbishop's remark had set my mind. I believe they will have the same effect on all who entered religion before we begin to ~peak and spell the way they print the Ordo, that is, before any woman was known as a ~4"AC, any girl as a ~VAVE, or any boy as just another GI 3oe. For the most part the thoughts conjured up are pleasant. For it is always refreshing to find real religion in religious, .Christ in Christians, and self-forgetfulness in selfish human beings. But as we go on thinking, it will be clear to all that both Mother General and Sister Superior had only one prayer in mind. They wanted me to pray: "'ut videant--that they might see.'" For while anyone who has celebrated a silver jubilee in reli-gion can tell tale after tale of actual heroism brought forth by.the few words these "annual thin letters~" or their equivalents Carr~ , they will also have memories of a few human tragedies brought on-- not by the "letters" mind you, but by the eyes that read them. There's the point: it is the eyes that read them. This fact that not only our happiness here on earth, the proper development of our characters and personalities as religious, and our genuine progress in the spiritual life, but in very truth our ultimate sanctity and consequently our eternity in heaven or hell depends entirely on our vision has been so deeply impressed on me by a series of happenings which began with what I have already narrated, that I feel I would be untrue to God and His grace did I not ask you: "How are youc eyes?" First, there was the nun who had just received her "thin letter" and was starry-eyed. I had to think that I was looking on one who was radiating the same wonder, awe, and joy that must have rippled out from Bernardette after a vision of "the Lady" and from Mar-garet Mary after a session with the Sacred Heart. Her letter told her she was to spend the next few years, and perhaps the rest of her life, in India. She was tremulous with happiness, for she realized she had been specially chosen for a special task, that a high commission had come from the High Command. And while she was not blind to the trials that lay ahead for her as a human, she was wihe enough 34 ¯ Januar~j, 1951 How ARE YOUR EYES ? to focus her gaze on the trust that had been placed in her by the Divine. Her only request was: "Pray that my family see it as I do." Then there was an older nun whose ~yes held a different light, whose tongue told a different tale. She had not been changed. No "thin letter" or its equivalent had come to liberate her, as she said, from her "misery." I spoke to her as earnestly as I could about Divine Providence and the wisdom of God, insisting that He gives us the one environ-ment in which we can best grow. It did not take. I spoke of supe-riors as representatives of Christ, striving with all my might to stir up faith and have her thrill to the truth that in hearing them, we hear Him. She did not respond. I appealed then to what has always appealed most to me, showing how obedience is the touchstone Of our loyalty to God and the grandest tribute of our love. I made very little impression. She lifted eyes that were lusterless and dull, eyes that seemed to hold in their deeper depths some slowly pulsing pain, and said: "Oh, if I could only see it that way!" The contrast struck me forcibly. All too vividly did it make me realize that there is such a thing as .spiritual myopia and very real astigmatism of the inner eye, the eye of the soul. I tried hard to excogitate some corrective for this faulty vision and some sure cure for an eye-ailment so serious that it can ruin a life. Recently, when I was in the hospital for a check-up of my "wild cells," the supervisor of surgery invited me to a tour of her depart-ment. I went. I had heard exceptionally high praise of the arrange-ments in this particular hospital. I soon saw that there was firm foundation for that praise. Sister showed me through sixteen or eighteen splendidly-equipped operating rooms, opened glass cases that held so many skillfully-shaped instruments that I was open-mouthed in marvel at the ingenuity of man and the thqroughness of the sci-ence of surgery. Then she had a nurse show me what a specialist would use in a lobotomy and explain the entire technique. I was speechless in admiration of the daring of these modern doctors. But it was not until Sister had led me into the smallest room on the whole floor that I saw why God had planned this particular visit at this particular time. "This is where they do the eyes," she said, as she opened a case and dazzled me with a display of shining steel scalpels more delicate than any I could have dreamed existed. Then she told me of the "eye-bank," revealing one of the greatest marvels of modern surgery. .35 M. RAYMOND Review for Religious It seems that specialists can take the cornea from the eye of a dead man, stretch it over the blind eye of one who is alive, and have him see. You can readily understand ,why my meditations and musings for the next few days were on the possibilities of some similar sur-gery for the eyes of the soul. If we priests, I thought, who so often have to use what we may well call spiritual scalpels, could only take the cornea from the eye of Calvary's dead Christ and stretch it across the blinded eyes of. Then it burst on me! What I had been dreaming of as a possi-bility, what I had been turning in my mind as a bit of fond fancy and a fetching analogy, I suddenly realized was actual fact. Baptism has done for the eyes of our spirits what these master surgeons are now doing for the bodily eye~ of the blind. Has it not, by subtlest sacramental surgery, inserted us into the Mystical Body of Christ? Has it not made us His members? Of course. But where are the eyes in any body? Are they not in the head? Does it not follow then, that so long as we act as His members, we will see things through His eyes? The musings and meditations of these few days had led me where meditations and musings of the past ten or twelve years have almost invariably led me--to the doctrine of the Mystical Body of, Christ. Think along with me now and see whether this doctrine, properly understood and rightly applied, does not allow us to diag-nose the diseases we have mentioned, isolate the very germs that cause them, ~nd proffer the infallible cure. That sounds hopeful, doesn't it? Almost too hopeful. But let us see. At baptism we were made Christ, but we did not cease to be ourselves. Hence, while the sacrament effected much ex opere opecato, it left almost as much to be accomplished ex opere operantis. For while those waters and words, plus the proper intention on the part of the minister, sufficed to incorporate us into the God-Man; to transform us into Him not only our own 'intention will be required, but along with it what may. well be water--our sweat and tears-- and what most certainly will be works. Limiting ourselves to this matter of vision, can it not be said in all sincerity that in baptism we received a sort of supernatural trans-plant, giving us a second lens, so that now we can look on all things either through the lenses that are human, or the stronger ones that are divine? Is it not true that we Christians, and especially we reli- 36 ~anuaql, 1951 How ARE You~ EYES gious, have double-vision ? that we are able to view things either with the eyes of man or with the eyes of the God-Man? that on every-thing which impinges in any way on our consciousness we can foolishly limit our sight at secondary causes or have it pierce through to see Him who is the First and" the only Uncause'd Cause? Is there, anything in our days or nights, .anything in the entire sweep of our lives, that cannot be looked upon in practically the same way we look upon a consecrated Host? The "species" are there. The "thin letters" of which I spoke came from a definite address, passed through the ordinary channels of the mails, bore the signature of a human being. But to the Christian conscious of his or her Christhood, to the religious fully aware of his or her dignity as His member, to the soul sensitive to reality, these things are but "species," mere accidents: the substance lies beneath. Why is it, then, that we do not always see things this way? Simply because we do not look through the divine lens. The trouble is not in our minds; it is in our wills. Our eyes must be directed. If we set them looking through the cornea we received from the First Adam, we shail see as human beings. That is what happened to Felicit~ Lamennais, once his writings had been condemned by Rome. His friend and fellow-worker, Lacordaire, was wiser. He looked through the cornea given by the Second .Adam, and saw truth. The deathbeds of these two men might well haunt all of us, for they con-- tain the greatest lesson for anyone's life. One used the eyes given him at birth and died a reprobate. The other employed the vision given at rebirth and died as we all want to live and die--in the arms of Mother Church, which are also the arms of Him who is our Head. But I don't have to go to that extreme to show you the practi-cality of looking at things as members of His Body. I can limit my-self to the question of temporal happiness, that quiet of mind and peace of soul we all crage, and prove that this doctrine is the panacea. Oculists will tell you that many a headache comes from using improper lenses. I will tell you that in the spiritual order many a heartache comes from the same cause. If we want happiness every hour of the day, if we want an easy pillow at night, if we want a conscience that will approve us and.our actions at every examen, one thing alone is necessary, to direct the gaze of our minds through the . lenses given us by the God-Man and see always and in everything exactly what He saw, the Will of the Father. Simple, isn't it? But let me tell you it will make life sublime. 37 M. RAYMOND Review for Religious L~t me say that I can safely paraphrase St. Alphonstis Liguori and claim that "what distinguishes perfect from imperfect religious is the' use of the divine lens." Or I can borrow from St. Teresa of Avila and say that you can be assured that the devil has no better device to keep us from the heights than to have us look through the cornea we had when we came from our mother's womb, neglecting the one, gained by being born again of water and the Holy Ghost. What an example Peter Claver gives us of all this. He had de-voted himself to the slaves at Cartagena. Alr'eady he had baptized more than a quarter of a million when word came from his superior: "Stop baptizing." I think most of us would have answered that command the way Peter answered the command of the high priest: "We must obey God rather than man." But Peter Claver stopped baptizing. The saint had been holding public devotions to the pal-pable spiritual profit of the poor benighted slaves. His rector told him to put an end to them. Claver could have looked, as many of us would have looked, and seen the hand of the calumnious and the enviou~ in this mandate. He didn't. He put an, end to the devo-tions immediately. But the campaign of hostility went on. Small-souled criticism won from superiors the injunction that Claver change his whole manner of instructing. Now remember this man had been as effective in his milieu as Xavier had been in the Indies. What would you have done in the circumstances? What would I have done? Claver changed his entire manner of instructing. But still: the opposition was not satisfied. It did not rest until it had obtained from higher authority the complete removal of this man from this glorious work. Claver went to his new assignment with all the cheer with which a newly ordained priest goes to the altar. How could he do it? By using the divine lens, acting as a member of the Mystical Body of Cl~rist and seeing superiors through the eyes of the Head°of that Body and hearing in their voice the voice of God the Father. Now who w~uldn't thrill to hear His voice? Who would not leap to obey His command with a happiness--but I had better stop there, lest what,seems lyrical prove a humiliating expos~ of our own short-sightedness. HOME FOR TUBERCULOUS SISTERS An entire wing of private rooms (twenty-eight) in Sa~,ta Teresita Sanatoriuin is being reserved for tuberculous Sisters. The Sanatorium is cared for by Carmelite Sisters of the Third Order. Address Santa Teresita Sanatorium, 819 S. Buena Vista Road, Duarte, California. 38 Classic on I-ligh'er Prayer Jerome Breunig, S.J. [The book reviewed in this article was not controversial in purpose though the theoretical position of Poulain is now controverted. Thus he holds that mysticism in his' special sense is outside the normal development of the Christian life. The book is reviewed independently of its controversial stand because of its unique value for spiritual direction and for its descriptions of mystical experiences.--ED.] AUGUSTIN POULAIN'S The Graces of Interior Prau. er1 is a ¯ great book. It is unquestionably one of the most important and influential books ever written on the science of prayer. It is not new, but it has been out-of-print for so long that it may be new to many of our readers. Because of this and of its importance for many religious as well as of its special timeliness today, it seems necessary to review at greater length this reprint of the classic work. Poulain's book was first published fifty years ago. Ten years later the first English edition appeared. The present volume from Herder is all the more valuable because it includes an introduction by J. V. Bainvel. This introduction gives a thorough, competent review of the book, adds an occasional needed qualification and clarification, and presents a brief picture of the impact .the book ha~t on mystical studies. As far as the present reviewer knows, Bainvel's introduc-tion, a book in itself, is here appearing for the first time in English. Written primarily for spiritual directors and then for mystics and budding mystics, Poulain's book will also be helpful for anyone interested in God's extraordinary communing with souls." The secondary title of the book is "A Treatise on Mystical The-ology." It is necessary to note from the beginning and to remember that Poulain, unlike most spiritual writers of the present day, uses the term mystical in a very restricted sense. Today there is much evidence of interest in mystical theology and in the supernatural phenomena which are its object bf study. Numerous Manresa and otl~er study clubs are investigating ascetical and mystical problems. .N~ew periodicals devoted to spiritual sub-jedts have appeared in recen~t years. Thomas Merton's books have found a wide reading public~. The number of vocations to the con-templative life has increasedI Another example of and a contribution to the g~owing interest is E. Allison Peers' standard edition of the 1See the "Book Review" section, ~. 52 for details on publisher, price, etc. 39 JEROME BREUNIG Religious works of St. Teresa of.Avila and St. John of the Cross. In fact, books on 'the theory, of mysticism, biographies of mystics, anthologies of such writings,' books of private revelations have multiplied in the past few years. But interest and concern is by no means limited to the academic realm of books. The press has given extensive pub-licity to some of the stigmatics of the present day. Keports of appari-tions have become well known throughout the world. While remaining deeply respectful before God's special dealing with chosen souls and deriving spiritual benefit from them, there is always need for caution and guidance in order not to espouse every claim of super-natural "intervention. Helpfulness of Book In this milieu Poulain's work has a special timeliness. For people who would like to evaluate private revelations, cases of visions, stigmata, etc., this is the book. The book is helpful on the level of practical judgment of publicized supernatural phenomena and on the level of theoretical study of mystical theology. In Graces of Interior Prager the interested priest, religious, or lay Catholic, as well as the non-Catholic, the scientist and the non-scientist can find a rather complete, systematic, and factual study of extraordinary supernatural phenomena. The book should help clarify an outlook, perhaps modify misguided enthusiasm. At any rate, it will foster a more reserved and prudent, point of view. For instance, Poulain showsA that even among the saints there were false visions and even in true visions false human alloy sometimes became mingled with the divine. Those interested in the problems of mystical theology should welcome this volume because it is a good counterbalance to the the-oretical ~pproach that is now being emphasized. Poulain follc;ws the descriptive rather than the speculative school which endeavors, as he described in his pre.face, "to systematize' all facts theologically by connecting them with the study of grace, of man's faculties, of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, etc." R. Garrigou-Lagrange's The Three Ages of the Spiritual Life is a good example of the speculative school. From the Author's Preface Poulain clarifies his purpose at the outset. "I wishec~ as far as possible to give very clear and accurate descriptions as well as v~ry plain rules of conduct." His purpose, then, is descriptive and pre-scriptive. He continues: "If I do not associate myself with the specu-lative school it is not from contempt. It deals .with many high and interesting questions. But the readers I have in view do not desire 4O January, 19~ 1 CLASSIC ON these things.(I am writing especially for those souls who are beginning to receive the mystic gr.aces and who do not know how to find their way in this new world. And I address myself to those also who are drawing near and who have entered into the adjacent states. Now such persons requir.e,something really practical. They wish for exact pictures--I was about to say photographs--in which they can recognize themselves immediately. They also require rules of conduct reduced to a few striking formulae, easy to ~emember and to apply.i~ He fbresees an objection. "Certain theologians would require more than this. They will perhaps see in this little book a mere manual, resembling those treatises on practical medicine which do not lose themselves in high biological theory~ but merely teach us how to make a rapid diagnosis of each disease and lay down the proper treatment. But I confess that I should think myself very happy to have attained such a difficult end." ~. The author's precautions which seem applicable to most works by mystics or on mysticism are the following. They are also in his preface. "The mystic" graces do not h"f t t:he soul out of the or"dmary.~b~¢~t~ conditions of,Christian life, or free it from the necessity of aiming perfection." ~,~Mystical graces are not sanctity but merely powerful~ means of sanctification; they mu,~st be received with humility and co~. responded-to with generosity."~ To pass our time in dreaming of the mystic ways is a dangero~uus error." Finally, "for all spiritualc~a~.~ ~ questions it is necessary to have a director. The more extraordinary)~I/~e~ the ways by which the soul is led the greater, as a rule is the Unlike most writers on the subject of prayer, Poulain's purpose is not primarily inspirational but rather Scientifically descriptive and prescriptive. The object of .the study, of course, of its very nature . has inspirational value. Nor does Poulain exclude this for he ends his preface: "I pray God that this book may accomplish the only end that I bad in view: the good of souls. (May" it awaken within them-~ {an attraction for prayeO'and the need f'o unite themselves with the divine Maste~.). ~May the souls raised to the fruitful joys of the mystic life become more and more numerous in the Church, especially amongst those who have been consecrated to God.:~ Send forth spirit., and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.'~ Teacher and Scientist Poulain was a teacher and a scientist. As a good teacher he took 4i JEROME BREUNIG Review for Religious pains to be clear. He had been a p~ofessor of mathematics for many years, and the reader suspects that he was adept at the use of the bl_ackboard. In hi.s early years be wrote a book which he playfully called the"Poor Man's Ge,ometry." In this book he used all his inven-tive genius to simplify the theorems for the slowest boy in the class. In Graces ot: Interior Prancer, "with its short phrases, its explana-tions simple sometimes almost to the point of na~vet~, its clear divl-siofis, its many paragraphs, its clever typographical devices" (Bain-vel's description of Poulain's style, page xxxvi), we find the same gracious teacher eager to bring the difficult subject matter within his pupil's wave length. As a scientist in the best modern traditions Poulaln endeavors to support his statements by factual data. He has so arranged the book that after each chapter he gives evidence to support the previous dex~el-opment. The basis for his treatment of interior experience is the writing of the mystics. In many instances he has also drawn from his own experience with mystics of his own time. Poulain himself said: "In thirty years I have come to know thirty-three persons who seem to have real supernatural graces, and nine who have false visions" (p. xxxv). The scientific treatment should commend the book to all. Incidentally, the book should help non-Catholic doc-tors, psychiatrists, and others who wish an introduction to mystical phenomena but would find a purely speculative treatment based on the unseen realities held by faith alone relatively unintelligible. The Table ot: Contents Poulain has divided his treatise into six parts: (1) Preliminary questions which give principal definitions and explain ordinary prayer; (2) General ideas about the mystic unlon;(3) A study of the degrees'separately; (4) Revelations and visions; (5) Trials of contemplatives; and (6) Supplementary questions. Herder's present volume adds to the appendices of' the original work an appendix on the question of acquired and infused contemplation and another on the discernment of spirits. The latter includes the Rules of St. Igna-tius, Counsels of St. Teresa on Temptations, ~ind Illusions and Marks to Discern the Si3irit of God, according to St. Margaret Mary. The author begins his work by making a clear-cut distinction between ordinary prayer and extraordinary or mystical prayer. To clear the ground for the distinction he first points out four degrees of ordinary prayer, namely, vocal, meditative, affective, and simplified prayer; next he notes the progression and describes at some length 42 January, 1951 CLASSIC ON PRAYER affective praye.r and especially the prayer of simplicity. According'to Poulain, the prayer of simplicity, though close to mystical prayer, does not" contain a,ny mystical element. The prayer of simplicity is still the result of human~efforts. All kinds of prayer, of course, require grace. He confines the hse of the word mystic to "supernatural acts or states which our own industry is powerless to produce, even in a low degree, even momentarily" (p. 1). The author then points out four degrees of the mystical union: 1) incomplete union (prayer of quiet) ; 2) full union (prayer of union) ; 3) ecstatic union (ecstasy) : 4) transforming union (spiritual marriage). Always the teacher and scientist, he distinguishes each successive degree by a new discernible fact. In the prayer of quiet the union between God and the soul is incomplete, for the imagination is free and distractions are possible. In the prayer of union the imagination is no longer free, but the action of the senses is not suspended, com-munication with others and withdrawal from prayer are possible. In ecstasy all sensation and voluntary movement are suspended. In turn, spiritual marriage is distinguished as a stable and constant state. "'To explain mysticism in an hour's time" After this general division of the higher supernatural states, the author attempts to describe what constitutes this higher state. He realizes the ground is holy and the task is difficult, but hear the ear-nest. sympathetic teacher: "The ordinary man prefers speed to every-thing else. Details do not usually interest him, but only the main lines . . . He seems to say: Try in an hour to make me understand exactly what mysticism is. This can be done" (p. 64). The fun-damental nature of the mystic union Poulain describes as God's presence felt. He states this in two propositions which he calls theses, The first thesis affirms the fact, the second uses the analogue of sensa-tions to enlarge on the experiential presence. After this he gives ten secondary characteristics of the mystic, union. Because of the special importance, the two theses describing the fundamental nature of the higher state will be given in the author's own words. The first thesis: "The mystic states which have God for their object attract attention at the outset by the impression of recollection and union which they cause us to experience. Hence the name of mystic union. Their real point of difference from the recollection of 43 JEROME BREUNIG Rew'e~v [or Religious ordinary prayer is this: that in the mystic state, God is not satisfied merely to help us to think of Him and to remind us of His presence: He gives us an experimental, intellectual knowledge of this presence. In a word, He makes us feel that we really enter into communication with Him. In the lower degrees, however (prayer of quiet), God only does this in a somewhat obscure manner. The manifestation increases in distinctness as the union becomes of a higher order" (pp. '64-65). In the explan'ation that follows immediately Poulain says: "There is a profound difference between thinking of a person and feeling him near us. And so when we feel that someone is near us, we say that we have an experimental knowledge of his presence. In ordinary prayer we have only an abstract knowledge of God's presence" (Ibid.). This %xperience of God" is obtained through quasi-se.nses in the spiritual order. His second thesis brings this out. "In ~he states inferior to ecstasy we cannot say that God is seen save in exceptional cases. We are not instinctively led to translate our experiences by the word sight. On the other hand, that which constitutes the com-q~ X.mon basis of all the various degrees of the mystic union is that~he. spiritual impression by which God makes known His presence, mam-fests Him in the manner, as it were, of something interior which penetrates the soul; it is a sensation of saturation, of fusion, of im-mersion. For the sake of greater clearness, we can depict what is felt by describing the sensation by the name Of interior touch" (pp.90- 91).) Poulain that mark 2) 3) 4) 6) 7) The Secondarg Characteristics of Mgstic Union gives (p. 114) the following ten secondary characteristics the mystic union: The mystic union does not depend upon our own will; The knowledge of God accompanying it is obscure and confhsed; The mode of communication is partially incomprehensible; The union is produced neither by reasonings, nor by the consideration of creatures, nor by sensible images; It varies incessantly in intensity; It demands less effort than meditation; It is accompanied ~by sentiments of love,' of repose, of .pleasure, and often of suffering; 44 danuar~], 1951 CLASSIC ON PRAYER /) "~_ 8) It inclines the soul o,f, itself and very eflicach3usly, to the~ " 9) It acts upon the body and is a" cted ~ I0) " " It ~mpedes to a greater or less extent the production of cer-tain interior acts; this is what is called the l,igature. In the third part of I~is book, Poulain studies each of the degrees of the mystic union s~parately. His explanation of the Two Nights of the Soul pointed out by St. John of the Cross is enlightening. TheNight of the Senses is a preliminary state, "the borderland of the mystic state," while the Night of the Soul, which precedes the trans-forming union, comprises the three lower states of mystic union u~ader their fiegative aspect. In his treatment of revelations and visions Poulain continues .the descriptive-prescriptive method, especially noting the possibility of false visions and of the false mingling with the true. He also gives rules-of-thumb for directors and for recipients of the heavenly favors. The section on trials.to contemplatives is brief, but brings out ¯ that contemplatives must be cut in the heroic mold of the Crucified. In his final section on supplementary questions of mysticism, the author treats in the same.scientific manner of topics such as the desire for mystic union, quietism, and frequency of the mystic states. Concluding Tribute What Cardinal Steinhuber wrote of the first edition forty-five years ago still stands. "It is with real satisfaction that I have read your Reverence's book on The Graces of Interior Prager. I cannot resist the desire to congratulate you with all my heart upon this fine and useful work. Directors of souls and the masters of the spiritual life will draw from it abundant supplies of enlightenment and the counsels necessary to enable them to solve the many complicated questions that they will encounter. What pleases me is the sim-plicity, the clearness, and the precision of your exposition, and still more, the solidity of the teaching. I can say the same for the care that you have taken to rely upon the old and approved masters who have written on the subject of mysticism. You dispel their obscuri-ties, you reconcile their apparent contradictions, and you .give their language the turn that the spirit of modern times demand." 45 Reprint Series The following groups of articles are now available in 50-page booklets, with paper cover: NUMBER 1: Father Eltard "On Difficulties in Meditation--I"--Vol. VI, p. 5. "On Difficulties in Meditation--II"--Vol. VI, p. 98. "Affective Prayer"--Vol. VII, p. 113. "Contemplation, the Terminus of Mental Prayer"--Vol. p. 225. VII, NUMBER 2: Father Ellis The "Gifts to Religious" series: "The Simple Vow of Poverty,"-~Vol. VI, p. 65. "Common Life and Peculium"~Vol. VII, p. 33. "Personal Versus Community Property"~Vol. VII, p. 79. "Some Practical Cases"~Vol. VII, p. 195. NUMBER 3: Father Kelly "The Particular Friendship"--Vol. V, p. 93. "Remedies for the Particular Friendship"~Vol. V, p. 179. "Emotional Maturity"--Vol. VII, p. 3. "More About Maturity"--Vol. VII, p. 63. "Vocational Counseling"--Vol. VII, p. 145. Prices Please note that we cannot accept orders for less than ten copies of any of these booklets. The following scale of prices applies to each of the booklets: 10 to 49 copies . 30 cents each. 50 or more copies . 25 cents each. Instructions for Orderlncj 1. Order according to the Number printed above: e.g., 10 copies of Number 1 ; 10 copies of Number 2; and so forth. 2. Send payment with order; calculating the price for each order according to the scale of prices printed ,above. 3. Make checks or money orders payable to Review for Religious. 4. Address your order to: The I:dltors, Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, SL Marys, Kansas. 46 The Des :iny of Religious Women William B. Faherty, S.J.1 ACURSORY PERUSAL of Our HolyFather Pius XII's speeches on woman's role in modern life might well lead one to the hasty conclusion that they contained little direction for reli-gious women. He spoke of motherhood as "the sphere of woman." He set down a great challenge for women today--to rebuild family life,--and as the first means towards this objective he wanted them to restore the aura of honor and dignity that should surround a mother's place there. The Religious Sisters, on the other hand, have renounced the pos-sibilities of motherhood in the home to consecrate their lives to Christ's service. Are they therefore on the periphery of the great so-cial reform work to which Pope Plus XII called modern women? The only answer that can justly be given after a careful study of the papal teaching is a round "No." Some readers have drawn too many hasty and unfounded conclusions from the Pope's words. They have not read all his speeches on the general subject. (He has addressed groups of women nine distinct times on various aspects of their lives and work.) They have accorded too much attention to the Pope's more novel and sensational statements, such as his pro-claiming the unmarried lay state a "vocation," and his urging women to vote and seek public office. When the full picture of the Holy Father's teaching is seen, the important place of religious women comes sharply into focus. In his most publicized speech of October 21, 1945, Pope Plus XII did state: "The sphere of woman, her manner of life, her native bent is motherhood. Every woman is made to be a mother . . . For this purpose the Creator organized the whole characteristic makeup of woman." Immediately, however, he clarified the issue that he was speaking of motherhood "not only in the physical sense," but also in the "spiritual and more exalted, but no less real" sense. This was consistent with the general tenor of his teaching. In a speech2 g!ven four years previously, entitled, "Guiding Christ's Little 1Father Faherty of Regis College, Denver, is the author of The Desting of Modern Woman in the Light of Papal Teaching, which is reviewed in this issue. (See page 52). The present article is based on a section of the book. ~Copies of this inspiring address can be obtained at a very low cost from the Nat. Council of Catholic Women, 1312 Massachusetts Ave., N. W., Washington 5,D.C. 47 WILLIAM B. FAHERTY Review for Religious Ones," the Pope had spoken more explicitly on this two-fold motherhood. Addressing the mothers in his audience, the Holy Father remarked: "Our words have been addressed principally to you, Christian mothers. But with you we see around us today a .gathering of nuns, teachers and others engaged in the work of Chris-tian education. They are mothers, too, not by nature or by blood but by the love they bear the young." Then turning directly to this latter group, he continued: "Yes, you too are mothers; you work side by side with Christian mothers in the work of education; for you have a mother's heart, burning with charity . . . You are truly a sisterhood of spiritual mothers whose offspring is the pure flower of youth." Such were the Holy Father's beautiful words on "spiritual motherhood." Praise of the Religious Life Pope Pius XII's remarks on religious life came not as a separate statement but as part of the full teaching on woman's role in the modern world. In his address of October 21, 1945, he discussed all three "vocations" open to young women today: marriage, the un-married lay state, and the life of the' consecrated religious. About the religious life, he stated: "For nigh onto twenty cen-turies, in every generation, thousands and thousands of men and women from among the best in order to follow the counsels of Christ" have left the "world" to devote their lives to His service. "Look at these men and women," he continued, "See them dedicated to prayer and penance, intent on the iiastruction and education of the young and ignorant, leaning over the pillow of the sick and dying, ope~l-hearted for all their miseries and all their weakness, in order to relieve them, ease theml lighten them and sanctify thm." "When one thinks of young girls and women," he concluded, "who willingly renounce matrimony in order to consecrate them-selves to a higher life of contemplation, sacrifice, and charity, there comes at once to the lips the word that explains it: vocation. It is the only word that describe so lofty a sentiment." The Pope finished this passage with ~he explanation that the call of God may come either as an overpowering summons or as a gentle impulse, sd diverse are the modulations of His voice. Addressing the representatives of Italian Youth Organizations in 1943, he spoke at length on the great need 0f vocations in these times, especially in the fields of education, organized charity, and danuar~, 1951 DESTINY OF RELIGIOUS WOMEN foreign missions. After extolling the value of religious life in fos-tering the Church's mission and mentioning the great solicitude of the Church today for the life of consecrated service--a solicitude rarely equalled, he insisted, in the long annals of Christian history-- the Holy Father concluded, "Let her accept it who can, taking Christ's words in "the sense of an invitation and encouragement." As a fitting crown to this speech, he made the memorable statement, "Christian virginity is the triumph of civilization." The Challenge to Modern Woman When the Pope challenged modern woman to work for the restoration of family llfe, he realized that many would very justly wonder why the Church continued to encourage the call to the reli-gious Sisterhoods. Why not lay less emphasis on this vocation for a decade or so? After all, where Catholic family life is strong, reli-gious vocations abound. Anticipating this reasonable objection, the Pope forestalled it by an immediate and thorough answer. "Is the common good of the people and the Church perhaps jeopardized by this (the encourage-ment of the religious vocation) ?" he asked. "On the contrary, these generous souls recognize the union of the two sexes in matrimony as a good of high order. But if they abandon the ordinary way and leave the beaten track, they do not desert it, but rather consecrate themselves to the service of mankind with a complete disregard for themselves and thei~ own interests by an act incomparably broader in its scope, more all-embracing and universal." They have given up the possibility of children of their own, yet they" teach the children of others the way to Christ. They help mothers in the care of their youngsters by establishing day nurseries. They substitute for the mother in conducting orphanages. They care for the sick members of all families. They protect the unity and sanctity of the family, furthermore, in a hidden but very influential way. While those intent on de.stroying the foundations of Christian civilization advise infidelity within the marriage bond and "free love" outside, the Church points with paternal pride to thousands upon thousands who have gone beyond the command of God and have accepted His free call to do something even greater. Because of this sacrifice, hundreds and hun-dreds of married people can ask themselves in the midst of ditficulties: "Can I not live up to the high requirements of my state of life, when 49 WILLIAM B. F!KI~ERTY so many of my fellow human beings live up to the more exacting demands of a higher state?" Renewal of Familg When the Pope suggests means to effect the renewal of the mod-ern family, the great part religious Sisters can play becomes even more evident. The foundation of all work for the restoration of the fam-ily, the Holy Father remarked, is a solid personal spiritual life. The first goal is to be the restoration of the honor and dignity that should be the Mother's in the home. Who are in a more strategic position to build a solid spirituality and proper attitudes toward home life in the mothers of tomorrow than the Religious Sisters who teach them in the schools and colleges today? Nor are Sisters engaged in other apostolic activities on the periphery of this great work. Those who conduct hospitals, retreat houses, and the like, have a part that is perhaps less obvious but equally important in thi~ work of family restoration to which their Holy Father challenges them. Conclusions Certain profitable conclusions for the individual lives of the Sis-ters suggest themselves from the words of Pius XII which have been briefly considered here. If religious Sisters are to look on their'life as a spiritual motherhood, the qualities that mark a true. Christian mother's relationship with her children--the qualities that marked Our Lady's relationship with her Divine Son--will be the aim of the religious Sister. This will counteract any influences which in these days of standardizing agencies and statistical social service might lead an occasional individual toward a depersonalized goal of expertness in nursing, teaching, or other profession. Secondly, the v6cation of most young women to be the mother of a family in the home could receive much more stress in high school and college instruction, equal in quantity even to the attention most Sisters very justly bestow on their own high type of vocation. Above all, the Holy Father's words should be an encouragement and an inspiration in these apocalyptic times which he himself has called "perhaps the greatest religious crisis humanity has gone through since the origin of Christianity." 50 Book Reviews THE MEANING OF FATIMA. By C. C. Marfindale, S.J. Pp. 183. P. J. Kened¥ and Sons, New York, 1950. This is not just another book about Fatima. It gives a brief, dear description of the Blessed Virgin's appearances; but tO that it adds a frank appraisal of the difficulties and inconsistencies in the account of the Fatima happenings, and a sensible, penetrating expla-nation of these problems. Fr. Martindale's treatment is marked by a fine balance. He is objective, almost scientific in his approach; yet sympathetic and sensi-tive to the human dements involved. He is very, discerning in his evaluations of the testimony given by the witnesses, parti.cularly the three children; yet there is never a ting~of debunking. Add to this reverent, straightforward attitude the fact that the author is inti-mately acquainted with Fatima and with the previous writings about the subject, and it is hard not to accept his judgment on the appari-tions. Special attention should be drawn tothe introduction, which is the key to Ft. Martindale's treatment of the Fatima narrative. In a few pages, the author gives a brief but dear explanation of the Cath-olic Church's attitude towards private revelations. His analysis of the psychology of the "visionary" is particularly valuable. This in-troductory section alone would be enough to make the book worth reading, and the remainder of the book fulfills the promise of the troduction.--BERNARD COOKE, S.J. VOCATION TO LOVE. By Dorfhy Dohen. Pp. ;x-k 169. Sheed and Ward, New York, 19S0. $2.50. Aiming at high ideals, the lay apostle is often handicapped by all-too reaIistic obstacIes. Writing from a layman's viewpoint, Miss Doben gives the reader a deep insight into some practical ways of ~etaining spiritual idealism. Religious will find in Vocation to Lo~e a refreshing newness clothing old principles, and may blush at the evident bigb aspirations of "people in the world." After a comparatively long and somewhat disconnected intro-ductory chapter, the author develops ten unified chapters on pene-trating studies of important consequences of tooe. The reader ad-vances through increasingly more interesting and satisfying topics. Outstanding for their simplicity and depth are four chapters on 51 BOOK ANNOUCEMENTS Reoietu for Religious detachment, prayer, loneliness, and f~ustration. The clear and descr.iigtive style throughout is captivating. Religious and laity alike, who ambition great deeds for Christ, should profit from these fifteen-minute excursions into refreshingly modern answers to the old problems f.acing the zealous apostle in making reality approach the ideal.---ROBERT P. NEENAN, S.J. THE GRACES OF INTERIOR PRAYER (Les Graces D'Oralson): A Treatise on Mystical Theology. By A. Poulain, S.J. Translated from the sixth edition by Leonora L. Yorke Smith and corrected to accord with the tenth French edition with an introduction by J. V. Balnvel and an appendix on the discernment of spirits. Pp. cxli q- 665. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Mo., 1950. $6.50. For the review of this book see Father Breunig's article, "Classic on Higher Prayer;" pp. 39-45. BOOK NOTICES Another tribute to. the present Age of Mary is F. J. Sheed's THE MARY BOOK which gives a biography-anthology of the best Marian. literature published by Sheed and Ward during the past quarter- ~ century. The reader will find a vast variety of subject matter plus diversity of presentation by great-name authors--Chesterton, House-lander, Claudel, Von Hildebrand, Martindale, Lund, to name only a few. Those eager to read more exhaustively on the subjects will find the sources of the selections listed in the back of the book. Besides the prose, beautiful poems on Mary, these not limited to the last twenty-five years, enrich the collection. Thirteen illustrations, four of them in color, of famous statues and paintings, contribute the final artistic touch to this little library on things Marian. (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1950. Pp. xii -f- 411. $4.00.) THE DESTINY OF MODE

Issue 3.5 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; Review :for Religious SEPTEMBI~R 15, 1944 Forestalling Pains of Purgatory . Clarence McAu]|ffe. A#ostolate of the Cross . Robert S. Bten ¯ Sanity and Sa ,nctity . G. Augu, sfine Ellard ~Bur~s~r General of Religious Institute . Adam C. Ellis. ~ Are You Sbrry for Your Sins? . Gerald Kelly~ I~ooks Receiged Communlca÷ions Questions Answered~ D~ci~ions of the Hbly See NUMBER-5 " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ VOI£.UME III ;EPTEMBER 15, 1944 NUMBER CONTENTS FORESTALLING THE PAINS OF PURGATORY-- Clarence McAulit~e, S. 3 .-. ~. 289 BOOKS RECEIVED ',. " 296 THE APOSTOLATE OF THE CROSS Robert B. Eiten, S.J. 297 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY S~E OF INTEREST TO RELIGIDUS366 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 306 SANITY AND SANCTITY--G. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 307 BOOKLETS ON VOCATIONS . 325 COMMUNICATIONS (On Retreats) . , . 326- THE'. BURSAR GENERAL OF A RELIGIOUS INSTITUTEm Ndam C. Ellis, S.J . 329 , ARE YOU SORRY FOR,,YOUR SINS? Gerald Kelly, S.3 ~.3.3.5. BOOKLETS . 348 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.)-- St. Dominic and His Work: Father Tim; The General Who Rebuilt the Jesuits; My Father's Will; A Key to Happiness; The Eternal Priesthood; An ~Introduction to Philosophy; JummariUm Theologiae Moralis ~. 349 QUESTIONS AND ANSW'ERSm 30. Entrance into Novitiate after lapse from Faith .". 357 31. Meaning of "Patrimony" . . 357 32. Excommunicated Persons and Sunday Mass . 35~ 33. Asking Pardon after an Offense . 359' *" 34. Quality of Benediction Candles . 360 35. Position of Candles and Flowers on Altar . 360~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1944. Vol. III, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.3., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kel!y, S.3. Copy?ight~ 1944, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotation.s of reas, onable length,: provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U.S.A. Before writing ,to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. '-~i'~Y GIVING the rock a double strike in order to'prodh(e, v;'ater for the Israelites._'(Numbers 20:11, !2), Moses '~ ~oPAINS OF PURG.~TORY "~" :~. .~, "~Granted these cioOnn d.i.t S, .how~ can e levee ,lm " un- -t~.in21of ~emporaLlSunishment thai: ~asts ,its shado.w upon.,, our lives? First of all, by indulgences. These favors granted ~-" by~.~he-Church aim directly at'the deletion of temporMpuia ishment. A ~in~le ple.nary in.d, ulgence, gained by one who . has,had all his venial sins forgiven, annihilates ,at once eirery ~.-, l~it'of this punishment, r~gar~lless of the ~iumber or grav{ty "of his past offenses. As ~as-pointed out by, Father-Thomas A."~O'.Connbi; ~S.J:, in this RI~VIEW (November, 1942,. ":PP" 3-82~389)~dvery religious ~and priest may: easily gain five such plenary in~dulgen~es every day, ~6qcever, even ~if we n~eglect these opportunities, we. 'very likely ~gain~,~ucfi ~pl~nary indu~.gences perio~dically during the year, for in-~ stance, a~ yhe. c0nclusion.0f our annual retreat and, during .the, Forty Hours. If some past venial sin still lingers on o~r soul so ~;that the. plenary indulgence cannot produce its full eit'ect~, it nevertheless remits a part o,f our t~mporal punish-ment. . Besides plenary indulgences, all of us gain many paifial one~; especi~alfy by~ use. of aspiratiofis. These. accord.i.ng to ;their-designated value may i~emove hs mu~h temporal p.u~n-i~ shrrient as was taken away by fifty dr a hundred or five "hundred days of rigorous canonical pen.ance in the early ChurcH'.° When we reflect h6w, severethese penances:w~ere,. ' W~ must admitthat an indulgence, even of fifty days, must :' make,deVastating inroads on our sinful debt. But indulgences are not the. only-means~at our disposal. t~v~ry _fime.~ tha~t'we approach "the Sacrament'of Pen ask .God., fo~? many other ~pirittial bles,~ings: in i]Sra.y~ers. In the same+ way we may ask this fiivor+and it ;will be'granted. -- ~Finally, we should remember that ~ome other living d> person may be offering satisfaction for us'and so b~ reducing ~" our t~emporal punishment. I~ is impossible, of course; for_. Other p~ople t6 apply their indulgences for us. It is also impossible, for them to transfer to Us the au~om~tic.r~emoval .of tempora! punishment proceeding from their assistance at ~Ma~ss; their;reception of the Sacraments of Penanc.e, and Of Extreme Unction.~ But they may give us the satisfactory ~ 'valge _of their unsough'~ suffe_ring~, of" their "prayers, fasting; almsde~ds and Other Works of piety,", and of all theit other good a~tions,of each day~ We on our part can ~\i-'~e~r~Srm.an act of charity by surrendering the Value ~f so.me of Our own satisfactory works for the °benefit of others.~" " Faced by such an array Of evidence,_, we must co~ncludi~- Ythat.it is quite possible for any ~onsdcrated' .person to die ¯ with all .temporal punish~ment for past' forgiven sins removed. ' In fadt~, it is highlyprobable that many religious' ~do ~o die. It is even likely, that many religious contribute generously-to the~ spiritual treasury of the Church by ~ acquiring much 'more expiatory wealth thin they them: o selves need. These thoughts should non-induce;any remiss-ne~ ss on ou~r-part in ou'r efforts, to gain such wealth, since we do nbt know precisely the size of our sinful.debt. In addi-~ ~. tion, every one of the satisfactory works mentioried also has a-nieritorious aspect, s~o that their perfo~rmance necks_-." sar~ily results-in a greater degree of glory in heaven. Ma,y we then say that rn'ost~ consecrated .persons nearer dday in purgatory at all? Not necessarily. The ~videhce~. ,adduced in this article sirhp!y indicates that Such persons; ;~can escape purgatory.as far as their temp.oral debt for past -~ _ 295 CLARENCE MC ULIFFE °~ ~ forgiven iins is conc~rned~ -But.pu'rgatory. may;open.its doors on ariother score. We may. have on our souls a~ i:leath;~ .many venial sins. ~hat have never been-forgivdn. Sii~cetheir ~uilt yet remain's, tiaeir temporabtSuni'shment will havei6 be,undergone in purgatory,, because temporal punishment may.never be, ex.piated previous to the remission of guilt. N~vertheless, solid evidence could be adduced to prove that ~religious can die° with every t~ace, of sinffil guilt rembved so. that they would enter with6ut any delay into the of heaven. ¯Book~ Received (From dune ZO to August~ 20) B. HERDER BOOK CO. St. LoUis. T~d Philosopht, l of-St. Thomas Aquinas. By Hans Meyer. T~anslated ~b th~ Reverend Frederic Eckhoff. $5.00. The Ascetical Life. ~By the R~,erefid ~ Pascal P. Parents, S.T.D., Ph. D., J.C.B. $2.50. The ,8ouls. By the Reverend Wendelin Meyer. O.F.M. ~nd Others. Translated~by ~he Reverend Andrew Green. O.S.B. $3.00. =Deaconship: Conferences~. on ihe, Rite o~ Ordination. By the Reverend Aloysius Biskupek, S.V.D. $°2.50. Molders of the Medieval Mind: The Influence of the Fathers of the Church ~on the Medieval Schoolmen. By the Reverend Frank P. Cassidy, Ph.D. $2.00., THE- BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. ¯ A ~,Vorld to Reconstruct:-Plus XII on Peace and Reconstruction. By Guido Gbnella. Translated-by the Reverend T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S;2. ,under the ¯ ausI~ices of The Bishops' Committee on the Pope's Peace Poifits.~ $3.50. ~ The General Who Rebuilt the desuits. By the Reverend Robert G.- North.: S.d. $3.00. THE NEWMAN BOOKSHOP,,Westminster, Md. Humiliql of Headt. By Ft. Cajetan Mary da Ber'gamo, O.F.M.~ap. Translated by Herbert Cardinal Vaughan. $2.50. " Abridgment o~ the Interior Spirit "o~ tb~ Religious of the Visitation of Hol~l Maql. Explained by Saint F~rancis de Sales. Revised translation from the French Edition of 1914. ~ $1.25~ THE MARlST BROTHERS. St. Ann's Hermitage, Pougbkeepi~e, N. Y. "Oar Lafly's Praise. (In poetry'). Compiled by Brother cyril Robert of,the' Marist Brothers of the Schools. $2.25 . _ THE ABBEY PRESS, St. Meinrad, Ind. ~,~Do 1 Reall~l Believe?: Meditations' 6n the Apostles" Creed. By the Re~'erend Henri Lebon. S.M. T~anslated by the Rever'end~Peter Resch, S.M. $2.25. FIELD AFAR PRESS. New York. Mar~kn611 Mi~'aion'L~tters: Volume 1. 1944. $.50. " . , 296 " " heApos :o!h e of Cross Robert B. Eiten, S.J. C~UFFERIN~'andthe cross are bard for all of us. ~ pine u~nder their weight. ~vre are constantly forced to seek ne~w and striking motives for bearing them. ~t : one ,time perhaps the motive of self-preservation or , " "keeping spiritually-fit" made a ~trong appeal t0~us. Agair~ ~we might have turned our eyes to the p?~st and" seen -° ~p.~rso.nal.siffs.~ Right order demanded that these sins. be ~-~ expiated; hence the motive of expiation for our person.ai mental,health is a matter 0f~'developi.ng rational habit~. o- Given~sani_ty and grace, spiritual perfection depe.nds upon '- ~-buiiding up supernatural habits. ,° -. ¯ Analgsi~ of the Irrational Of both'health of mind and ascetical perfection the dbadly enemy is unreason, or better, irrational emotion. .What St. Augustine writes of sin is true ,also of every ,unsound habit. "It is not wrong to say thaLevery sin i's a falsehood. For eve.ry sin is commited only.with the inten- ~ fion that it sh6uld-be well'with us, or that it Should not be evil with ~s. Therefore there is the falsehood that, although . so.methingfis" done that it may b~e well -g-ith us, it is ~hence , really rather evil with us, or that, although something is done that it m~iy be better with us, it is thence ~eally rather worse with u.s" (De CiuitateDe/. xIV, 4).ludas's experi-ence, partkularly his disappointment with the thirty p.iedei -6f silver;, is a good illustration. Accordingly, in "every unwholesome habit, as well as in every sin, there is a cer-" taih sel~-contradiction', ~elf-deception, and self-frustra'tio~. One seeks satisfaction and gets d~ssatisfaction, or at least if /he doesget a certain satisfaction, he also. suffers a greater ~ dissatisfaction. He looks for the truth and finds an. untruth : he'inten~ls good and brings evil upon himself: 'What :is fals~ can be accepted only under the guise bf truth, andevil . .-can-be willed 0nly under the fallacious appearance .of g_oo.d. Bgth in unhe~ilthy and in sinful habits two esi~ntial ,,.elements are discernible: a false judgment,, giving diiec.tibn, and an emotional force, fundamentally go_od., but mis-directed, an_d" moving to action: If there were no erroneous judgment, one would b~ acting ~in accordance ~with trfith ~nd goodness, and hei~ce rightly. If there were no emotion, there would not be any action at all. It is as if a business::" 309 man invested money to make a profit and sustained aloss~_ or astir a sick man meant to t~ke a medicine and ~drank a~ poison. .Thus the scrupulous man seeks to please God anff by his irrational behavior does what is objdctively dis-: pleasing to Him,~ of~he strives.to make his salutation mdfe' secure and~ at the, same time by-his wrongheadedness really' renders it less certain, or he tries to fulfill the tiniest jot and -~tittle, of tl~e.l"aw and violates the fundamenfal principle~o~f la~ that one should 15e sane and rational. Mor~eover, in both~ the psychical and ethi~a,1, spheres it is mogtly t~he same-emotional forces that ~ause'the trouble: namely, the ego-instinct orpride, the sexual urge, fear, and sadness.° "- ~ _. Fivg Wags of~ Meeting Problems Functional psychic- disorders commonly originate conflict with 0some.~u._nplea~sant reality Which frustrates' br .threatens tO frustrate_~one in s6me way. There are eraL possibilities. "Some m~ke the right and in ouk,case; it would b~e the ~religious Yeaction: they face the ,facts -squarely, . see what is to be doneabout them, and then d0it promptly and courageously. Other are not so happy. Some "take to flight. A soldier who is afraid to. fight and also to °admit it, conveniently becomes blind or paralyzed, and is excused; thus he saves both himself and the respett in which. he is held by himself and others. Another man withdrav~s into a dream-w0rld of his own creation. A third over-" ~whelms himself with external distractions: A third group ~ of people [ightltheir dit~iculty, but not in the normal way. ¯ , A man who is overtimid before other men, intimidates a~d browbeats his family, and~thus compensates. An indication . of this t~endency in human nature is observable in the fact that oftentimes the ,less one's authority, the greater.~.the show. that one makes of it. ~A'ma;a who is fearful of his ° ability to rCsist the attractions of women, may. carefully 310 ~ September)' 1944 ~ ~" , ,~ .9 ,SANITY AND SANCTITY -cultivate a dislil~e and ~ontempt for ~ll the fairer h~lf"of the "~hUman r~c~e, and never miss a chance to disparage them. A ~po~ential drunkard may become a rabid teetotalist.'- wh~o tAri efso utor tshe rcvlea stsw oof m paesrtseorns,s c, olrinkper othmeis em wain.~ ihnt htehier ~G doisffpie:l .~ulty. -An ambitious young priest sets out t~make. tinguished career for himself;~dne~that is rather high for limitations. ° Gradually he yields before great flifficulfies. But he doe.s.not give up hi'aim nor,the ~atisfaction that the - thbught of it brings. He concentrates attention ~on all the \~obst~iCii~s in his way, exaggerates them, perhaps adds a few. ~'of his own niaking; and finally reaches the c6mf6rting~ on-clusion that, alth6ugh now he cannot.reach that goal arid thus show his worth, still, if it were not for all those unfor-ti~ nate circumstances, he could have distinguishdd himself. His s~If-'safisfaction~, is saved. The fifth group simply ~ive up in defeat. Then they may fret ii~way t~heir lives in worry 6r anxiety or sink into the dark depths 'of melan- _~choly and despair.- ' The Influence of Habits With organic psychoses and neuroses, that~is, major and minor mental diseases due, foi instance, to an injured '~.o~'dition of the brain, we are 'not at all concerned in. this ilrticle. Functional psychoses and neuroses have rio demonstrable organic basis. It seems to,~be ciuite" true--all .preventive measures and hopes rest largely upon-this pr, em- ~i~e.--A-~tha~ many persons who have c_ontracted these f.unc-tion~ al disorders could have avoided them if they had intelli . gentler and earnestly disciplined their habits.of thinkihg ~ and f~dling, or, in other words, if they had striven to see and e~valuate'things as they_ are and to modem.te their emotiofis accordingly. But they did not; ;ind the cumulative~effect of .lon~-continued carelessness and drifting leaves~ them m_ore "~ -~3. AUGUSTIN~ ELLARD* -or Iess d~ranged. Reoieu) for~Reli~iqus.; There is nobody .who_ is pe)fectly :n6r- , mal, th~ abnormals being like the rest of us, only mor~ So. ¯ Every_one ha~ some habit or. 6ther which he wou~Id, do wel, I to coriect, both for the health of "' his soul. "No excellent soulis exempt from some admix-f~ lure of madness" (Aristotle). It is with these habits that ~-tBis article is ~oncerned, not with those of persons who are. ~ _ al_ready neurotics or woi~se. Extroversisn anal Introversion Before we discuss'particular l~abits,it may be well:oto °notice two general tendencies of attenti0.n and interest, which, if carried too" far, can become very harmful both to personality and to-the spiritual life, namely, extroversion :and introversion. Extroversion, an inclination:to occup~,, "~neself with what is outside of oneself, may lead to ignor ance of self, thoughtlessness, shallowness of character,: and ~a n~glect of all the greate'r and better things. It is naturally apt to end in that excessive giving of oneself to externals which is a'special failing of ma.ny m6dern religious priests and-is so 6ften #ep~)ecated now by ascetical writers. It is contrary i_n tendency to all-that the interior fire'implies. .RecolleCtion would be reduced to a .point approaching zero. Turning to external things is a favorite means of esc.ape frbm the unRleasantn~ss of living with ~3ne's own imperfedt self and from the goadings of grace when on~ is not on the~ best of speaking terms with God. A~y"religious who is so Vehemently and incessantly busy talking o~ working exter-~- nally°tbat he can hardly think of anything else, would "illustrate v(rhat is meant by the extroverted pers6nality. Extreme extroversion as seen in certain demented persons is often termeffa "flight into reality.-" Introversion, a propensity to keep the ~nind turned - inwa'rd upon itself,-involves the dangers c;f-morbid intro 3 12 ~ ~sp~cfion and0f ge~fing to0 far away from-~rhe "real wo~ld.1 ::Th~ Jn~rover~ may be¢6me ~bsorbed or even lost Jn ~labyrJn~h 0f ~is ow~ ~hou~h~s, fe~1~ngs,. ~nd fa~cJ~s. ~He ~s more apt ~o be brooding, m~dy, and anx~0us: Morally, " be ~S ~n grea~er danger ~f being too self-centered, a~d of'all. ~e.evts ~ha~ go wi~h ~ha~ m~d~fion. He ~ends ~o become unfi~ m l~ve ahd, work w~h o~hers. ~he worst form Jn~r6v~rsJon Js exemplified by ~ose pafiems Jn asylums ;~o~ completely w~dr~w Jn mind from all external reM~ Jry. The Jn~e~rare~ person, ~nd ~be good relJ~Jou~ will Cs~ve r~ S~rJke a ha~py balance ~b~ween extroversion and Unwholesome Intellectual Habits '. ~Am~ng particular bad habits that-call for. discipline, as the psychologi~ would say, or for m0rt~cation, to u£i ~. the ascetical term, the ~oll0wing may. be instanLedf Those . ]in_which self-deception seems more prominent ,will be con 3jdered first, and then those in which the emotional element " has a certain predominance, Of the many ways described ]-by psychoJogist~ in wIich'people deceive, themselves, these'-- ~-~ five seem to be the most significant for our pu~ose. , ~ ~ -: Since sanity consists in contact with reality, it is evident" , thht:~vasion of unpleasant tr~ths is, no part of it.- A certain .amofint of evasion is Vffy.-comm0n'and ~ithin th£.timits of . "the normal. But it.tends to grow from bad to worse,.?nd hence it is excellent material ~or disciplih~ or mortifica[ion. ._. ThoSe who evade disagreeable truths are the persons whgm - ~e hear likened to ostriches hidin~ their heads in the sand~ . .:Simply ~urnin~ away may bring relief for a time;, but :may also ha~ten disaster, ._ . " One may dissimulate or suppress the truth of a dis-tressing fact inone's situation or condition. Fo~ instahee, a man is told by his.physiLian.that his blood-~r£ssure is -=313 Gi AU.~3USTINE ELLAR~. ~ . . o Reaiew t:or Reiigi6us" gettifig. too',high. In.stead'~of a~ep'ting th~ diagnosis an~ r~gulating his life according!y:, ~he thi'nks as little-as pbssi-ble .of the matterYand acts all the more strenuously as if in an efforl~ td prove to hi'self ahd to others that there is nothin°g~ ,wrong with him, and. least of all; high blood-pressure. Similarly, a devout .man is wa~ned by his confessor, pos-sibly by a succession of confessors, that he is s~rupulous." ~.Not only does he not ac,quiesce, but he goes on to do all thSt he can to convince himself and his confessor that he is noi~ scrupulous. If he fail~with one, he pro.ceeds to anoth4r. And meanwhile he is.getici~g farther and fa~the} awffy from reason and religion. . - -~ , . Sometimes people dissemble to themselves the fhct that~ great obstaclds stand in their way. Before they meet them, - they dc~ r~ot lose their courage, but neither do ~they take~ the necessary steps to cope; with them. Thi~y seem to think-that ~ by shfftting their eyes to tlSem, minimizing them~ or, as .it were. laughing them .off, they will-somehow overcome= them.Lady Luck may take care of them. A pious rnan~- -might. say "Providence!' will do it.Sr. X's difficulty is a -qUick and Sharp tongue. Instead.of considerin, g her prob-lem., understanding it, arid seeing what is to be "done about it~ she givesherself up to a va~ue hope that somehow'God's "grace ~vill solve, it, and thinks: no more about it. There~a-re others who manage, to blind l~hemsel¢c~s ~to their Failures-or at least to acknowledge them to thee least-p6ssible extent. "D6n't worry abgut spilt milk." ~ommon and idjurious mode of evading the.truih about. ¯ ,one s deficiencies is to blame .other persons or unfavorable circumstances for them. They are like the football fans-who gladly take all the credit for victory when t~ir team wins, arid who, whenever~& loses, have a multitude- of~ excuses and explanations, ";without, - however, ever gi~ing credit to the other'side forsimply being superior. A teacher 314 Septer~Ber, 1944° ~- "- .SANITY. AND SANCTITY "whose w0'rk is n.bt,tip the-the mark m~y explain~i~- all by refe~rring to the poor qUali(y of the class,~interferences fro~ the principal, un.satisfactory textbooks, a noisydassroom, and so 6n--anything; in fact, except personal deficiencies. - Akin to evading unpleasant truths is-the d~d~lin~.l ?esponsibilitie~. When a man frankly, that is, without_ ielf-deception, refuses to do whavhe knows he ought, to do~ t.he fault is moral. When the mind is so deranged, that therb is no lor~'ger an.y moral imputability and one,shirks~a the fault is merely psychic. .In between these two extremes there ar~ infinite gradations-and combinations of both moraband psychi~ failures, 6f illusions arid bad will. of the corrimonest means of escaping a disagreeable dUSty ._ .and of avoiding embarrassment at the same tinie is to develop, more or less-unconsciously, Or to ~magnify~ a-~'- physicid disability of somekind. No doubt every-ieligious superior"who ,has had much.experience, knows of subjects ~who shirked disagreeable obligations or assignments on the ,plea.of illness or incapacitati_on'that was psychic ratherthan physical. Recourse t6 prayersometimes appears to,be an. example Of dodging, a practical i~sue. Sr. Y comes t6 rea~lize tha~. fhere is a considerable degree of disobedience in-her life. She recalls tl~e magnificent promises of results to those-who pray. Then, instead of clearly formulating to her~ self-what is wrong, what She should do abou~ it, why. she ~boul.d do it, and _by what means, she plans a novena, to :St: 3oseph, so m~any Memorare~s to ~he Blessed Virgin, ~ _such and such prayers to,the Little Flower, and so on. Thus she distracts herself from what she ought- to do. hdrself~ P~ously and comfortab_ly she goes on; so.does the disobedi-ence, !ess piously, but comfortably.- , Rationalization is the proce.ss of making action_that :is unreasonable seem reasonable. PrObably it is thecommon-est- of all the mental distortions pointed out in these pages.- 3.15 G. A~2.G'USTINE ELI~ARD -~Retyiew,[or Religious There is hardly a humah being who d~es not resort to it at times aiad in some measure. Vdry.powerful and ~ersistenk urges impel, us todo thirigs that are r~ot quite right, and at the same time twist our thinking just sufficiently~toenabl~ u~ to feel more or l~ss justified in doing them. On the one hand, those impulses are extremely:strohg, and on the oth.er, we ekperience a certain necessity of being,,or at least -of, appearing to be, rational/both in our own eyes and~.~ .espec.ially in the.estimation of Others. Rationalization su~-~ plies the way out of the difficulty. '~The"rationalizer dab- 6rates- convenient and reassuring, deceigtions,° for himseli~, and Often. alsd deludes-himself into believing that other~' do not see throtigh his fiction. Extreme forms of rationaliza~- -tion are found in. the insane.Rationalization is probably exemplified every day in ev~ery religi6us house. It is the favorite meahs of-taking the edge off the exacting principles of asceticism and the int~rnvenient obligations' 6f the rules,. -and~of making life under them more agreeable. ). One of the worst forms of flight from reality-is day-~ . drearning.~ - It octurs in all degree~ from that which is nor-mal. to that of the utterly insane. It is especially liable to develop "in persons who are inclined 'to remain shut:in within them.sel, ves, whose surrou;adings are dist~ressin_g, and .who have lively-imaginations. If. things are painful "~Well, at least," one may say, "I. can create a world 6f my own where there will be some sort of satisfaction for me. In" fa~t, there, in fancy, ! can have any pleasure that.I Wish." As daydreaming grows.,-it takes one further and furthe~ from real life : hence, its evil aridHanger. Idle reverie in a r~ligious is at best just so miach energy, a;ad, time diverted from his own sanctification and tlse accompffshment of the task ~ assigned to him by God~- M6rtifying the" propensity° to,it would contribute to integration of personality, .to greater holiness, and to haore, efficient usefulness to others. 316 "Septembir~,',1944 - " ~ - - SAIqlTY AND sANcTIT-Y ' A, marked tendency.to, suspiciodsness is- not,a'good stgn. df rob~st~and depe_ndablehealth of mind~ .it'involves~:fte,°o q{aerit~ deceptions of self, engenders e'ver'y sort of dhrk.affd blister fe£1ing, and lessens ol{e's fitfiess to live and work w.i~th -~others. In a religious,, suspiciousness 0fsuperiots can gb so far a~ to become positively pathological. There are religious who easily ,develop a martyr- omp'lex. Brother X, a man of v~ry good ~will but poor 'judgment, has often had to be corrected bj~ his shpefio~s. He is fully conscious of his good faith. After~a tim~, he notices that although behas beentrying very earnestly.to°~ d9 the right thing, he has-ndt met with approbation and "_erfcouragement, but rather, as i~ seemed, j~st the contrary. He ~recalls. that God often allows His l~est servants to b~. persecuted. Finally,. he concludes that be'must be-in that class. ,From then on every unpleasantness met in his rela- - tions~with, others and particularly every admonition given~ by superiors is'interpreted'.as one m6re indication that he is beingperse~uted and thathe_ must.be a ,great°favorite-wi~h 'Heaven.~ . Wha'tever i~ done ~o make him see~the light ts taken to be so much more molesfation. ' Another bad habit of mind is found in many people ~. ~ who, are b0tl~ered, with irisistent,, umvelyome, .thoughts. Some of the best igeople are distressed in this way with the~ ~orst thoughts: - Ideas of the most repuls~v.e:nature force-fully~ obtrude themselves into'.the mind, even at the most-sacredo- mom(nts or places. They are utterly out 'of keeping~ ~Twith the character of the person whom they aftlict, and are felt, as if by some external force, to be imposed upon one "-._ They are not ordinary temptations, hnd should" not ~be ~resis~ed as ifthey were n~tural movements of resentment:o'r. o~ncupis~enc.e: Fear and autosuggestion may be factors in b.ringing;them ~ibout. .Recognizing them for what they~ are, avoiding fear of the~, ignoring~them, andan effort tO 3i7 .~- ~. o ~-" --. ~ ~. ~ L~",,~- ~.~ '~ o ~t ~AUGUSTINE ELLARD~ ~ , "~ ~, R~ie~ for'R~ligious remain indiff~)rent ~toward them ¯while preserving ~;ne's, self- 'possession, a~e more effective, o_ -~_~ Unwholesome Emotional Habits The se'cond, and perhaps the more'important,-eleme~t in every,irrational, and also every irreligioud, reactign,., is ~affective or emotional. It is this that adds power, some-times compell'ing pdwer, to them, and leads to action. Cer- ¯rain cases, out- of many, will be indicated in the f611owing ' paragraphs ~ Nowadays we.are always hearing about int:eriori't~t [eelings.,and their injurious consequences. Obviously, sense o]~ inferiorityis humil!ating and.embarrass!ng: B~- sides, when not-well borne, it begets depression, fearful-ness, discouragement, and a disinclination to exert orieself. --So may fal~e humility, tn these dispirited states of soul. some people~ m.ay stick: But others undertake io do some-" o rising about it, though they are not in the.best condition-t0 judge what should be done,, and then dissatisfaction with ~ "- one's !nferiority and the desire to.be rid of i~ or even to-secure a certain, elevatidn over othe_rs, may lead to a great ~. garie.ty ofpersonality.fa9lts. ~These efforts may be of two general kinds: disguise or compensation. ~ Attempts. to con-ceal ohe's inadequacy .involve; falsity ~and duplicity, not 0co, nducive to the unity thatcharacterizes an integratedper-son. If they be kept up for long,.they may ,bring about~ stra!n and unnataumrOacl~ a.h.t.y. Moreo~'er, the cha_nces.are' that-they~ v~ill be °unsuccessful, and ~leave the~hypoc.rit~2 feeling more inferior than ever. Unsound.forms of comp~fi sation that occur are, for example, exaggerated aggressive- -.ness, fan~aticism, blustering, excessive reforming ze.al: unrea~0n~ble c.ritic~ism Sf others, extremes of conduct, d~: ~" matism, rigorism, tyrannical domination, and a hos~ - 31'8 September, 194'~I~ ~" ~ " " " SANITY,ANI~ SANCTITY A~sense of .l~ssene~d worth neednot,.bemJ.U. rzoys" ' . ~' to one's pers0n~lity. Of all p~ople?the Saints felt thifir worthless- -. ness~'most keenl~ and acknowledged it most Openly. CerZ tainly some of them r~garded themselves as-the wo]:st of all fiu~an beings. But their ge~nuine, not false, humility, t.oge.th'er :with other virtues which balanced and Suppl"e- ~mented it, was an antidote that prevented them fr0m~ °requiring a psych, iatrist~s attention; in fact,~it-became one of[the foremost reasons for their superior exci~llence.- The "healtlSy-minded and sensible man will take himself as he is,. , acknowledge 14is,,limitations, and,,intelliger{tly and courdge- 0usly make the mo~t of his potentialitie,s. He will not 6v~errate himself and thus. deceive himself, nor b~y. futile at~empt~ to rise higher, render himself_, still more inferior than he. really is. True Christian humility, accompanied l~.y~ confidence in-God and magnanimity, is the sovereign remedy fgr a depressing sense of inferiority, Sex is. also a most fertile hotbed of psychic and moral troubles.° Here especially the right ideas and the right attiv ifudes of will are of supreme importance for those Who would advance in sanity.and sanctity. If one's views are too broad, the'moral life ~it least will suffer, and the mental "may. If they are too narrow, too puritanical, the tumul-tuous currenl~'of"sexual, impulse may demolish the :dikes unnafurally restraining it and wreck everything~ As Horace remarked long,ago, you may.chasenature out with a fork, , ut it v~ill alwa.ys return. This is true in a special way of/ sexu~il~nature. If it is unnecessarily repiessed, sooner or -,later it ~ill emerge again, perhaps in a ,disguised,,and mor-bid form. and with.increased .~violence. Too mueh repres- 1. s~on:would involve the danger of making one a neurotic,. and then What about his chastity?~. Temptations would be multiplied and at the same time one would have less than the normal ability to cope with them. - 31~9 G: AUGUSTINE-EI~LARD - " ° ? R'e~ieW ~o~ Religious The right ~iew of se~ di+ine view of it. It would not .regard ~ everything aboat se~ as bad and ugly. Nor would it ,be-too negative. the contrary,, it would-look upon sex as an integral element in human nature and a divine+creation, and as such, g~od:'. . In the practice of cha+~ity, whether conjugal or celibate, a person would seek, by the e~pression.oP all that is noblest . in him rather than by repression,-to achieve the pbsitive +purpoSes of the law, to develop and perfect one'elf, to beg~t offspring, whether ih the literal, or .the m~taphoric~ ~ense, and to increase o e s love for Him who~ is qnfinite -loveliness and beauty. The.-sexUal instinct, whichr as?a matter of fact, is so destructive to divine love[ can-and~3 ~hould' be integrated with it, ~nd become a most .~o~n~ ~promoter of it. Lack of su~cient instruction can haye tragical" ~onse~ quences. These days there seems to be need of much information in such matters than in the good old Victo~ian~- d£ys, especiall7 from books or the spoken word, The amount that one -should.have will depend upon individual needs find the hature of one's work. Suppression of the desire todearn wfiat one ought to know[-or legitimately might well know would seem to be a good example of the kind of.ihe sup--~ " ~ression that is injurious; beside~;,it .would be a persistent source bf. unnecessary temptations, .anxiety, and strain. Instruction shoul~ extend b6th to the facts and.to one',s obligations. The minor mental disease of scrupulo~F~,~ often thrives on sex-ual ground: .-,_ .An exaggerated conception or ideal tity may mislead .some. Properly-speakifig, the highe~ .chaptiF~ that-is possible for us is-human,, such as, for example, is exemplified in ChriSt or the Blessed ~irgi~ Even they, since they did not experience temptations, can- 320+ ~not be~prox~ma~e mo~ls ~n thi~ ~espect. But'marly of t~e ~rg~n and confesso~ saints went through furious and pro- ~ 1onge~ sie~es ef temptation w~th an inviolate lustre of purity. -~here is mhch in the ~h~story of religion ~and mys- .[~cism to confirm the saying of.~ascal t~at one who unin-telligently seeks to become an angel becomes~a beast. After self-assertiveness and sexuality, f~ar seems to be the most deleterious emotion. ~ople whose personality is ~ore or less maladjusted b~ reason of~fear or anxiety are very numerous. One manifestatio~ ~f it t~at we can con~ s~der briefly is Scrupuios~ty. ~A full treatmenL~how~Ver, of this Specifically religious ~ental malady is quite impossible~ here. Profane analogues of scrupulosity are seen in per-sons who can hardly assure themselves su~ciently that they have, ~or instance, turned off_the gas, or locked the door; or written an address cor[ectly. In a scruple, that is, an irra- ~tiofial fear of sin, the emotional' factor, anxiety, seems to ,be'mu~h more important than the error of judgment. ~hiS~ can be ~emoved efisily by-instruction,~but the anxiety is stili ~here, and not so easily expelled. The first and most e~ca-cious rule for the scrupulous is, according to all huthorities~ to seek competent direction and tO follow it most exactly, ~' li.ke a docile patieht obeying the doctor's prescriptions. - If ~ this is done, the fear will Vanish, or at least gradually a~fophy. Additional means of dispelling it are: not to yield to it by actin~:tq obtain greater security, heartily t~ 59cept the assurances gixen by one's director, .to consider his-judgment safer than ofie's ~wn .disordered fancy, to duiti-vate insight~ into the groundless~es~ of one's apprehen-~ sions, to proceed ~irectl# to do what is feared, to notice that it does not hurt other people, to be careful, not to n~glec~ one's .real obligations, like the Pharisees who strained gnats and swallowed camels, and. finally to ~develop that filial trust and confidence in God which He desires. Cultiva,tinig . ~3,21 G. ~AUGUSTINE,ELL.~.RD, ~ ° ~ " ,~ Revietoffor; Religi6u~ ~ a sense~of-humor nd.the abit of seeing the ridiculdusness- Of one's'sc.rupulous fear is also.an effectiVe remedy. - - A neurbsis that is not Unknown in religious communi-tiesis h.qpgchondriasis, tha( is, a morbid anxiey about~ one'S h(alth. The patient, is perpetually thinking hboul~ it, -noticing.and magnifying in imagination all possible~symp-toms, anticipating_the worst, seeking and using remedies ~alLsorts, watching for their effects, ~comparing his condition today with yesterday, and so on. Meanwhile he is really-making himself.sick, or :aggrav.ating any reaFailments that he. ma~y have. He could cure himse.lf, of his unhealtl~y~ worry if he would follow a course like that recommended o for the scrupulous: or if he would concentrate'on the major, things in life, espe.cially in the spiritual' life. Distracting work-would bep~irficularly good for him.' If he Were more.~ solicitousabout his mental and spiritual well-beiiig, his "health of b~dy would take care of Jtself. " ¯Depression ¯ --Another emot~bn that iblays havoc with the minds an~ :.~ :souls qf-many i~ "sadness. It~ran~es all the way frog"slight ¯ and ~ransi~nt low. . spirits in nbrmal person.so to a leffdi~ag "symptom in some of,~the psychoses. When. due to physi~a!: -conditions that cannot-be remedied, it-should be bo/ne. patiently, like the re~t of'one's cross. Insight into i~ho~e °causes will help to relieve it, and'for the rest, of all people_ the good religious has the least reason for being depressed.~ ¯He should kriow a~d realize tha(God's wh91e plan.for him, ~hough it does'contain 'suffering, is from beginning ~to end_ - ,~ d.esign for'peace and ineffable beatitude. ""W~ know that -o-forthem that love God he worke~h a.ll things toge}her unto, : g0b,d" (Romans 8:28). .find it enlightening and -322 Some depressed religious might encouraging to: read a ~chapter September, 1944 SANITY AND SANCTITY "_"eXplaining St. Teresa~;s ,psychiatry of. melancholy i~ l~er- Foundations (chapter VII). Ps~lchotherap~l o " -- To cure an unwholesome habit (people who have developed neuroses are referred tb the psychiatrists), three .general methods are available: psychagogy, analysis and synthesis, and a combination of both. Ps~tch.agog~ First, one can simply go to a competent counselor,. explain one's case. and carry out the pres~riptions~ as ,a patient does with his~physician. Besides efllight~ening,, per-suading, and using suggestion, a'~counselor can give a~ .troubled p~e~son a, good 6pportunity to talk. It is a fact that in some cases a man caff talk himself out bf a neurosis. No doubt the explanation is that thus the patient sufficiently= clarifies his own mind, gets insight, and reaches emotional" equilibrium. A, nal~/sis arid Sgntbesis Secondly, one may, preferably with the.help of a court-s~ lor, take the~ following procedures. - , . I. Inoestigation. What are;the origin and" nature of the trouble? When and where did the faulty habit begin? ¯ ~What elements in one's external situation or in one's inter; -nal condition could have given rise to it? What factors in one's experience (for example, shocks or frights) or in one's training, help to explain it? What ideas have been guidi_~l~ one?- What emotional forces have been at work? What has one been seeking orshirking? Wil~h.what results? II. Insight. If the investigation has been-successful, insight should follow,.but it may need to be deepened, broadened, and heightened bY much reflection. A maia has " '-'.insight" y~hen, say, he has an irrational notion or impulse~ 323 for ReHpiou_ s ~ _.and recognizes~it as such. W~iters on the discernment spirits would say that he i~moved by an. evil sp!rit, ,hUman of diabol, ical, and realizes that fact. If he can understhnd~ how it came about and its nature,~ so much.the better." If the insight gained be dear and f~Ull, he will then be prepared to treat the notion or impulse as if'it were a sffggestion~ from a ocrazym~in or'a swindler. Insight can ,be suflicientfy--clehr and strong to effec't a complete cure at once: It does awa.5; with the false ideas or °illusions at least. "III. Release of Em'otional Tension. Next one must see ~and feel by all' possible considerations, and work aL it till one really does see and feel, the fol, ly, futility, and:frus-trations of what he has" been doing, and this in,contra~st to the val~uds, positive and negative, of thecontrary rati6nal ~-~,~abits. He must bring himself to realize, .for example, that he hasbeen fearing ,where. in finality there was riothing, tp fear, or desiring what really was-not desirable. Thus the perverse inclination will dissolve like ice before the hot,sun. The secorid element of the irrational, namely, misd~rectedl emotion,, i~s thus remedied. Other means of. reducing unsalutary hffectivet~nsions are i avoiding the.objecys-that~ stimulate them: eschewing thoughts of those objects; ~ expelling~a lesser fear or love by agreater fear d'r love, fear of,h!an, for instance, by- fear of God; arousing in oneself the" contrary emotiori, fbr instance, hbpe against despair; throwing oneself .int~o some absorbing.~external, action; pro-ceeding tO do what. One fears, or to-do the opposite of what, one. feelsimpelled tO.; quiet and rest. Even if a man c~n- ¯ not discover b~r analysis why he has this or that inclination, he is ~ti11 free, if his mental integrity has not been damaged too-much, not to adt on that impulse.~ The a~m is always, not to darri up'the forces of human nature, but to give ttiem wise direci:ion and .wholesome outlets. Here ratib'nal com- 'pensati~n-and:sublimation, that is,:guiding one's instinctive 324 ~ Sep~ember~'lg~ ~ ~ ~" ~, ~ . SANI~ AND SANCTITY "urges toward somethifig equally good of better, ~are emi-nently in~place. 0necould, for-example, seek" eventual ex~ftation throughhumility, ot the grat~cations of love in ~divine charity. IV. Re-educa?ion, Rd~te~ra~ion. 1. Specific }emedial habits are to be ascertained, their adavantages adequately" apprefiated, and then put into practice. A scrupulous per- :son for instance, should avail himself of what. are called ".th~ privilege~ of the ssrupulous." 2. The basic defects in the.personality-which are at the root 6f the diNculty sEould be uncdvered if possible and treated in ~ore or le~s thesame_ wag, with a ~iew to building hp that unity and fullness,; and balance which constitute intdgration of personality. In a scrupMofis)erson.the defect ~ay be a deep-seated timid- ~ To conclude, insight into one's unbalanced emotional p$opengities and control of tbem will give one sanity; a high degree 6f such insight .and~self-control will add sagac- -itE; and, if supernaturalized by graqe, it will bring sanc-" ~tity~ and thus ultimately a rich participation ~n the beat~c .~ision and love arid ~njoym~nt of God. ¯BOOKLETS ON VOCATIONS Halt! Hearken to.the C~{/ of the Children. A PamPhlet of 28 pages, by Fathers Rumble and Catty. The pamphlet was written originally by an Australian nun for Australian girls." Its purpose is ~to give an appreciation of the. work of the tegching Sisterhoods. Price: 10 cents. Write to: Radio Replies Press. St. Paul 1, Minn. "What Would You Like to Be? Aft interesting brochure explaining the-life the Marianist Pries-t, Teaching Brother, and Working Brother. Contains well-chose~ pictures and clear explanations. Write to: Rev. Father Superior, Mount -St. John. R. D. 2, Dayton 10, Ohio. ¯ The Making7 oF, a Man: A pocket-size pamphlet, explaining in general'the ~ ,-vocation'of the Mhrianist, and in,particular t_he life of the "postulate" at Maryhurst, ~ Kirkwodd, '/v~issouri. The "postulate" in this instance is not merely th~ postu~ lan.,cy which immediately precedes entrance to the novitiate, but an entire high school course for~prospecave candidates fo~ the Society of Mary. Write to: Maryhurst~ Kirkwood, Missouri. Reverend Fathers: , When I give a retreat in a hospital-convent, I decidedly do not wish to replace the chaplain H~ may need a vacation: but thai is. no reason why his work ~hould be-added ~to.the burden of the retreat~ master, who must give pe_rhaps four conferences a day, hear confes-sions, keep himself available for private con.sultation, and perform his own spiritual exercises, besides. If.the chaplain must go away just at that time, why not engage another"priest to take his place, so thht the. retreat master can restrict his attention to his own exacting work? I am w~illing to have, and even insist on having, the cgmmunity Mass in the morning and the Benediction in the evening for the retreatants. But I,wa~t nothing more of the chaplain's regular wgrk. Imagine distributing Communion to who l~no~s" how many. patients befor~ M~iss; then, :whewhardly back in the chapel with the Blessed Sacrament, being called to administ_er the last rites to'-a dying persoff~ while the community waits: then after Mass, while ~akiiag the thanksgiving, being called out in a hurry to give Extreme Unction to one who has" suddenly died in a ward; then, after a hasty breakfast, going to say the ritual prayers for the ~lying over a patient; and then rushing to the chapel to give the retreatants theif morning con~er-- ence!' Or imagine.a Sister rushing up to the table in the sanctuars; whil~ you are. giving-a~ consideration ~nd asking you to "Come. quickly; somebody is dying!" But it isn't as bad as alFthat, some may objest. , Oh, but it often is. I. ha.ve experienc~ed it. And. if it isn't, you know that it can be at any moment. A Priest , Reverend Fathers: After each of the three annual retreatS, we discuss the various, points that have been, noticed by different novices. Here are a few. We don't like to have the retrea.t master tall~ right past us to the .few.older. religious who are also on retreat. They've heard mostof it, anyway. The retreat master ought to talk so that we Who have. not passed twenty can get something out of it. .326 ¢ " " CO~UNICATIONS ._- "Let'-tl~e~,~etreat master leari~'something, about our community. "before talking on the "Holy Rule': in general arid making com~ments -on prescriptions_that aren't even in our rule. " We are poorly impressed when tile retreat master comes up the aisle.with a strong scent of perfUrfie trailing after him. He ought t~ let us see ~hat hi~ actions and bearing correspond with 'what he is telling us to do. Let him forget the affectations of speech. Even thofigh he talks ~oorly, a re-all~" good religious priest (you can see the hdliness of his life) is far better liked than an easy-going but powerful speaker. The former is a sermonin himsel£the latter is, too, but in a different way.~ We have a copy of the text of St. Ignatius' Spiritual_Exercises; too. If we want to read it, we can do so; and we do not" like to have a retreat-master me~ely read th~ text and a.dd_ practically nothing of his:own. We0never like to be read at; even .when the retreat mas-ter begins almost every conference or meditation with the words:_ "St. Ignatius next says . A little story once in a while helps .to keep things alive and nbt all fire and brirristone tales, but something practical and forceftil. ~ We're young; and we enjoy a joke .wrapped up in the conferences o now and then, But not one that is completely irrelevant. Brother Novices Reverend Fathers: The foll~wing remarks on tiae retrea~ question ~epresent th~ result ¯ o~ a question~naire.given a n.ur~ber of Sisters two years~ago: Desirable length ~of retreat: 6 full days. ~ Desirable length of conferences and medi~ations: 40-45 .minute_s. ~'uggestions for Retreat program: 1) Have four or five conferences daily. 2) Allow sufficient ti~e after dinner for a rest,-so thfit retfeat-aiats will be better able for mental exertion. ~ 3) Allow time at 11:45 for exame~. 4)'Have commun!ty prayers (espedally the Office) said p~i- ~ately, so that the retrea~ants will have more time for private reflec, tion. : 5) Begin confessions" no'later than the third day. S[zggestions concerning sequence of subject-matter: 1) Have a definite sequence, so that one conference is.a prdpa_r.a-tion for~ the next. ~ "COMMUNICATIONS " " ~ ' 2) But- do not" follow th~ Ignatiansequence so'closely tha~ one " will know exa~tly~what meditation is'to follow. ~u~gestions concerning subject-matter: -1) Give practical examples illustrating 'the ideals of re.ligious life, rather than a vague generalization. 2) Make examples positive rather than negative. 3) Center the entire retreat around a certain virtfie, such as conformity to the Wi[l of God or lo~;e of God. - 4)"A~zo[d relating personal experiences and stories of scandals in other communities. ' 5) Arrange the subject matter so that, if some I~roups are men-tioned, all will be mentioned; for example, superiors and inf.eriors, or nurses, teachers, and house-sisters. .6) Repeat a definite theme again and again d~uring the retreat. 7) Give conferences on the methods of. mental prayer and have. the meditation on prayer early in the retreat. 8) Give practic.al meditations on the love of God, emptying ~of ~lf-love, etc. 9) Stress" the Indwelling and" the Mystical Body, as means of living in uniofi with God. 10) Discuss the three ways in the Spiritual' Lif~, putting special emphasis on the unitive way. 1 1) Develop the life of Christ according to the mysteries of the rosary. ~ , Other .points: 1) Be straightforward and s'~ecific in the treadnent of the reli-' gious life. 2) Conduct the retreat in the presen'~e of the Blessed.Sacrament. 3.) Use simple and cleat, ratlSer than flowery, diction. ~) Ask of each penitent in the confessional the subject-matter:. of her particular examen, or question her on prayer. 5) "Talk" the conferences instead of~ reading them. 6) Avoid throwiffg jibes~ at women. Z) Use tile word "Sister" frequently for emphasis. 8) Put the Sister at ease in the donfessional by givilag l~er time, showing an interest in her spiritual advancement, by encouraging her in her good resolutions, etc. A Sister .~ ~ - -~ _ . _ ~ ~ ~ " ~ T~-~ ~ a Religious Insfi u e _ Adam C: Ellis, S~J.- .]:o~r al! p~ovinc~s, houses; and m~mb~rs of th~ insti-~i. . ~ tut~ (canon 502).- H~nc~ it is obvious that h~ has. authority owr th~ t~mporal affairs 0f tfi~ institut~ as wall as o#~r'spiritual and disciplinary matters. But sinc~ it imp~ssibl~ for on~ p~rson to car,-for all th~ d~tai~s of"go~-~ ¯ ernment by himself, the law-of=the Church pr~yides for 'helpers 6f various kinds-who are to assist the superior in ¯ ~hi) government of the institute. Thus canon 516 6f the Code of Canon Law provides for couficillors and bursars for~ all~)eligious superiors. The pu~ose of the present grticle is"to definet~e duties o(th~.bursar g~neral of'a r~li- ~gious institute. .- Appointmen~ "1~ ~h~.¢~nsfi~u~s nre ~ilen~ ~n ~he mnHer ~ deefin9 ~. The Code alloGs the constitutions to determine hdw the ~-.~ursar general is to be chosen. Usually the~:pro~ide forhis =election in the general chapt~. ~ It~i~ oMg whe~ the constitu-tions are.silent in the matter t~at the=superior g~neraI ~s gwen the power to appoint the bursar general with the consent.of his council. No definite term of office is laid down in_the Cod~ for. bursars~ They may" b.e reappointed-or elected again indef!-i nit~ly. Nor is'the office of bursar general incomp_atible.with. that of a general councillor as far as tile common law of the C]aurch is concerned, but to unite~ the~e offices in 6ne pe.rso11.i~ usually considered inexp_e°dien, t and is not infrequently for: - bidden by the.constitutions. .o 32.9 ADAM C. ELLIS :, ~ ': -- " Ret~iqto for Religious -_ r - Limitations of Power~ ~: ~° "They are t~ exercise .their office under fhe°d~recfion of their respec-tive superiors" (canon S 16,§ 2) but "the superior himself may net ,d!schargb. tl;e office of bu~'sar 9eneral or provincial 'bursar" (canon SI6, § 3). By forbidding the s~perlor genera) to act as bursar and by ~subjec~ ting the bursa'r general to the direction ~f.~the SUl~e- -rior, the law providhs a safeguard against maladminis~tra-tipn. " The superior must exact an. account of'hisadministra-tion froth the bursar, who cannot dispose of tempor.al-goods withoutthe permission o~ i0is superior. Nor may the sup.e: rior grant him unlimited permission. Us.ually the details of these matters ar~ determined by theconstitutions. " Constitutions sometimes provide forthe appointment oi: sev.eral administratorS: one for the general care bf the; teinpor.alities of-the ~nstitute or" province, others for . t.icular kinds of work, such as the administratiQn of pub-, lications, printing presses, and various offices. ., Whateqer the relations may be, the funds of each indi-- vidual mo'ral personality--institute, province, house "mFst be keptseparate; and are not to be heaped into 6he common% fund. Extent of Powers "Besides the superiors, those officials also who are so empowered b~ the constitb'tions can, within the limits of their office, validly incu'r expenses. "and perform juridical acts of ordinary administration" (canon 532, § 2). Normally, then, the bursar has the power to incur' expense~ and perform theoju~idical .acts of o;dinarg "admini~- ~tri~tion: ~ By ordinary administration is meant everyth'ing which p'ert.a~ns to the everyday needs of the i.nstitut_~;e~. or community. Such Would be the purchase of food, clothing,- - and fuel, the repla.cement of things worn out. or brdkeh. ordinfiry repairs on-buildings, and"the like. To.sell the~ ~superfluous products of the farm, dairy, and poultry yard,, 330 ~@ September, 1944 ; THE BURSAR GENERAL~OF,A RELIGIOUS INSTITUTE w~ould~iikewise come und~:-the head of.o'rd~fiary adminis-~[ tration. ' It,is" customary to entrust this ordinar.y administratioq~. ~ entirely~ to ,the bursar and' his )issist~nts. Hovgeve~r,~ sup~-~ -.riors retain their own powerl of juridica!,administratiOn; ~ : hffd°if they ~place any acts of such administration, these acts~ ~ ; are valid.~ ¯ , Qualities.of Good Administration '-'~'~" Canon 1523~ lays down rules for all administrators, including religious. It .Begins by telling them" that th@,° ~, should fulfill their '.office With the diligenc9 of a good, -'"paterfamilias" or head of a household, which implies two qualities: care and. prudepce. ~ It then descends ~o the ¯ ~ ~ following details: ~ -- - 1. Vigilancelest any temporal, goods spoil" or per.ish. The superior may prescribe certain defini~te ways of,pro2- ~ ~ture, andmay forbid others:, : " " " Z :'~ 2.-Observance ,o~ th.eprescriptions of bo~h ~anon and~ ' civil law: It is evident that the p.resc'r, ipt~ions of Canon Law ¯ : must,, be observed/ especially those of canon-~534," which govern the alienati6n of goods belongi.ng to religibus com-munitie~ s as .well as the incurring of debts. Th~ prescrip-hans of the civil law Sh6uld also ,be observed, lestthere be ~ darigerof losing 3uch gob_ds thro~igh neglect of, the requiie- " men.is of the civil la~. This applies especially to all kinds '"~'Of contracts'and the i.ncurring.of debts, because th~ Code tias "canonized" the civil law in ~his matter:, "Thb presc~';pfions of the civ.il law of the place r~garding contracts b~th ~n cjen~ral and°in particular, whether'nomlnate o~ ;nhominate as well as recjardin9 payments,'shall be obse~rve'd by the same right in. eccles;astl-cal matters, unless they. are contrary to the natural law'~or special pre-. scr;pt~ons are found in canon law" (ganon 1529). ., ,3. Incc~me of goods ghoutd be accurately demar~ded "at ° [egular intervals:. Income thus collected should ,be care- fu, lly,. guarded and (i-n:~s~ ~,~bf foor~lations)o sh~ould, be .expended according .to th,e mind ~f the donor. 4. Income sho~tld-, be invested for the benefit of.' the, Church." The',,term "church" in the gener~il canons ,,on temporalities-means the individual moral personality of who~se, temporalities there is question (canon !,498). For~ us it means the religious institute. " -_- All income acquired~from temporal goods is considered - as.free-capital until it is invested. Hence it may for ordindry _expenses and for the payriaen.t ,of debts. °'But ifit is not needed for these purpose's, it should be inves(ed. Once i~avested, it becomes "capi_tal" or eccelesiastical goodsTM and is subject to, the" norms of canon law regarding aliena-, I~ion. 5.~ Books of mon&s received and expended should~be-cqrefully kept. This is sound business sense. It is*also, -iequired-in" order that the administrator may give that _ periodic account to l~i~ superiors required b~r the canon law. 6. Documents and business papers, should be kept in order and karefully gtiarded. This includes all kinds of- ~documents and p.apers, such as deeds to property, founda-. _ tions, donatibns,, contracl~s, and so forth. Canon -375',/ § 2 obliges bishops-to see to it that an inyentory or cata-logue- Of all documents in the'diocesan arcl-iivesbe mad.e. This inventory' includes a brief synopsis of the-content-~f,, each documen[. : Such a catalogue.- makes it e~sy to._find documents and-lessens,the danger of the.ir being lost. Reli-gious i~dministrators will do well to observe thi~ canon. °-. Such, in gener~il, are the ordinary powers and duties of. an administrator of ecclesiastical goods; in ourcase, of the-bursar general with-regard to the goods of his instltute. . Superiors should not interfere in the ordinary" administra-tion of the bursar, but should receive reports from him-and o examine~his accounts from time to time. The ~ao-rmal func-" 332 ~pternber, 1944 ~ ~ THE BUI~$AR~(3ENERAL OF,A RELIGIOIJS INSTITUTE ti6n;of the si~perior inthisregard is ttiat of~direction. The iminediat~ and" actuM ordin~ar~r administration is generally ~tenied to superiors by, the Code, and should be left to the bursar and his assistants subject to~ the direction 'of the superior. Thee coristitutions usually,, pr~scribe in detail 'the rela- ~ tions between superiors ahd bursars in regard to. temporal-administration, and should be' faithfully observed. " - " Extraordinary.! Administration -~y .acts of extraordina.ry admin.istration a~e m~,ant ~hings which are more rare and.of a more important- nature,¯ Such as the inv_estment of-money, excha~nge of securities, buying and selling of real estate, exti)aordinary repairs of 15uildings and equiPment, and the building of a °new stru~-. ture~, Fo~ all such actions the bursar must obtain the vari- "ous pe~rmissions required by the common lawa~s well as by the constitutions of his instittite. According to the general law of the Church, '~not only every .institute, but e~very p~ovince, and every house is capable of acquiring and possessing property w, ith fixed ~r fotinded revenues, unless the capacity to do so be excluded or restricted by its rules and constitutions" (canon 531). Some constitutions provide for" but one subject of. owner- ,ship, in the entire institute, so that there is only one.a~lmin-istration of temporalities. In this case it is usual for the constitutions to prescribe that the bursar general ~keep ~eparate accounts at least of the income and.expenses of the ,iridiiridual ho(~ses. This will show whether or not the ~individual houses are self-supporting. .: When each house has itsown~ local'administ_ration, it is 9sually prescribed that a certain portion of,the net in, come remaini_ng at the. end of the year after all bills liave" b~en paid,should" b~sent to the'motherhpuse foXthe su~pp0rt of .333 o~. ADAM C, ELLIS th.~:novices, Sisters in studies, and the like.~ The' N~cmae of 1~901 pres(ribed that well-to-do houses should-con, tribute one third of the .net~.cash on hand year, after all bills had been paid presen.t, practice of the Sacred Congregation ~f Religiou.s is t6 allow th~ .constitutions to prescribe that the genei~al c~hapter wiil decide the amount that should be ~contribut~d annually to the motherhouse .for the needs of the institute a whole.' The amount may thus be increased or lowered in each general chapter, according to the needs ~f the times. It "is" the dhty of the bursar general to collect t.hese contribu-tions at the pr0i3er time, as Well as~o examine the-financial statements of t/fie individual l~6uses which are sent to him periodically, according to the consti~utions. If these accounts are-not satisfactory, he ~should report the °det~- ciencies to ~the superior, whose duty it is to rePrehend those responsible. , To vindicate and defend o-rie's ~:ights in court is an act oFnormal adm~nistration: but religious superiors may not go to courtin the' name of their community excep.t in con-~,~ fo.rmi.ty'with theconstitutions (d~anon 1653, § 6). - " 'Conclusion ._ Administrators,of church 15roperty, b9th~superiors and other officials, should., remember° that they-are not the owners of the property which they administeL hence_they. ma.y riOt dispose of the temporal goods of the institute'as they please; but only in accordance with the prescriptions of canon and civil law. All administrators are obliged to give-an account of their stewardshiE~th~ .bursar general to-the superior general, the superior general[to the Holy See in the quinquennial repb~t in the case of mstttutes approv.ed by-the Holy See, to the local Ordinary in .the case of a~ diocesan congregation. . # 33'4. ' ~re:~ou Sor~yfoi YOur-Sihi? Gerald Kelly, S.J~ ~HE.Council of Trefit oNciall~-declardd: that true con- ~.~ ~rigion consists in a detestation o~ one's sins, .with grief ~'of soul, and a purpgse~0f sinning n0 more. According to~ the same Council; contrition is so-necessary that God never 'forgives any persona~ sin, even in the Sacraments of~ ~ Baptism and Penance, unless the sinner genuinely repents. ~ Perhaps it is this doctrine of the necessity'of contrition that makes the subject ingeresti~g. ¯ At any rate, it is inter, .~sting. Anyone who has taught th~ Subject, whether in ff ~theology elass or .in an advanced religion class, knows that. ~And we all know it from personal experience, too.; We want to b~ rid of our s~ns; therefore we want to be sorry for ~t~em~.and we wan~ to be sure we are sorry for them. Perfect Contrition ~' Per[ect,contrition is a. subject of .special intereit because .it sometimes happens that perfect contrition affords the~ "only possible means of saving o~e's soul. The baptized person who is i~ the state of,mortal sin and is dying with~ 6ut the oppor~unity.of~going to cdnfes~ion or ~f receiving E~tre~e Unction is faced ~ith the grim alternative of making an act of perfect contrition or of going to hell. The unbaptized sinner who is dying w~thout th~ opportunity -of receiving, actual baptism faces a similar alternative. No one can sa~ that ~eff~ct.contrition will neve~ be a matte'r of ~trict necessity for him, becau~ ~ortal sin is ~ ';possibility for.everyone, and death ~ithout a pfiestqs ~Is~ a possibility: Yet, even if it were never of Strict necessity, ~the,act of perfect Contrition is a beautiful prayer and should be £afd often. It i~ certainly.the best kind of contrition?for".-" ~ .~. ~ ~ GEI~LD KELLY - Revievd/or veni~l sins;-and,, withr~eg~rd to m~rtaI~in~, it hdst~e spe.~ ~ .cial p~wer.of restoring sanctifying grac~ to the sodl imme: diately,-thus makin~ it unnecesary to wait. ~or the oppor-tunity of gging~,to~cgnfession .in order~to 'regain God's friendship, to be able to ~erit eternal life, and to.be pre; pared for suddeh ~eath, ' InstrUcted CatholiCs usually know the ~adt that ~er: fect contrition immediately ~lots out mortaI sin, but not ikfrequently t~ey misunderstand "the reason for this special power of p~rfect c6ntrition. In fact, only recentlE,' ih'a bbok otherwisd sound and excellent, thd statement was madd.that in the case of a baptized person who has com-mitted a mortal sin, perfect contritionrestores grac~becausg. it"contains a desire for the Sacrament of Penance. Thii' is-,. not.the correct explanation. It is true, 0f cogrse, that, in~ the case ~eferred to, perfect-Contrition must cbntaih at ldast an.~ implicit intention of, going tO ~onfession; otherwise it would be a means 0f salvation entirely independen~ o['the sacrament and would excuse us entirely from God's pre-. cept. of confessing ,the mortal sins committed after baptism. But this intention to receive the sacrament is not th~'dispp-sition that gives perfect contrition its'special ~cacy. Even i~pe.rfect contrition must contain such an intention. ~ The real reason~ ~hy perfect contritign instantly re-~ stores gr~ce to the soul, even before we go to confession;- is to Be found,in its motioe. Perfect contrition is motivated gy charity. The sinner turns to God with peifect~ove; and God repays lord with love. As ou~ Ldrd ~old us, God takes up His abode with those who love Him. " ~e are often asked if it i~ di~chlt for one who h~s~ s~nned mobtally to make an act o~ perfect contrition. .In -an~werifig the questio~ We must h~ve regard for.several points. !n the'first place, ndith~ p~rfect nor imperfect trition ca.lls for a definite degre~ of intensity or r~quiies-any~ Septerr~ber, 1944 " ARE YOU SORRY FOR YOUR SIN~? certaln amount of time. ~n t~e o[her han~, bo[h kinds~of. con[rifion mus[ con[ain an app~eciaffon or~ p~eferenc~ of God which entirely excludes the w~ll to commi~ mortal sin: In" 0[h~ words, ~he con[rile sinner mus~ prefer God [o ady~ p~rsgnal_safisfac[ion [ha[ would con~ic[ ~ith God'd ~riend-s~. This disposifion~is required in all contrition for:mor- [al ~in; and i~is enough, even for perfec[ contrition. emphasize the fact that it is enoUgh, because I believe th~ ~'the.~mpress~6n is.'somet~m~s g~ven that .perfect contrition must exclude all attachment to sin. This impression is not a~curate. Perfect contrition admits of degrees. lowest-~degree contains the ~ preference for God "over any~- .th~ng that conflicts .with h~s friendship; and th~s does not necessarily exclud~ a~t~chm~nt to venial sin.- In assisting-- d~ing sifiners, it seems advisable to begin w~th the lowest degree. After g~v~ng them ~h~ motive for perfect co~tr~- t~on~of which we shall speak in a moment~get tBem to repent of their mortal s~ns and to,resolve never again to s~n mortal'ly. If they have this disposition, ~h~y have what ~s strictly necessary for "loving God above all things," for lov~ng God "with their whole heart, their Whole soul, and .~their whole mind." Having, helped them to th~s essential d~spos~t~on, one can then try to "go higher,"~that ~s,~ to. ~instill sor~ow.fo~ venial s~n and even to incite a desire~ fo~ ~erfect.conform~ty to the will of God in all thin~s. Under manyaspects, therefore, an act of perfect con-tntlon is notmore di~cult than imperfect contrition. The di~cul.ty, in so far as there, is a di~culty, lies ih the one ele~ ment that distinguishes perfect contrition from imperfect: namely, in the motioe. Perfect contrition springs ~from ~eharity ;" ond charity is the love of God "for His own sake" ~an unselfish, disinterested love, To 10ve God for His bwn sake should not be~ di~cult for anyone who reall,y ~know? God: that is, for one ~ho has cbme t6 appreciate 33~ ~ER/~I~D KELLY" - .Re'uie~ £or ~eh'g'ious ~h~ough prayer that°God is go~d and !ovabie; but "~or those_ Who have given little'thought to God, the case is proba.~l~ different:-They need to make some consideration" thal~ will sh~w ~themthat God is really worth loving for His own sake. A ra.ther simple.;ccay of l~elping a sinner to arrive at the -motive necessary for perfect contrition is to g.et him to ,reflect on Christ Crucified. In the opiStufe of our Lord on the Cross we have a very .graphic portrayal of God'os love for us. AppreciatiOn of this fact-begets gral~itude soul;, and it is an easy step from gratitude to perfe~:t love, that is, to the love of charity.St. John, the great apos.tle of charitji,, told us to foll6w this path. from gratitude to charity when he said.:. "Let us therefore love God, .because~ God first hath loved us" (I ,John '~: 19)~. St. Paul's.gr~eat --personal love ol~ our. Lord sprang., from an appre.ciation of the tremendous fact expressed in his Words: "He loved rile and deli~rered himself up for me.'.' St. Francis Xavier's° great prayer of love (0 Deus, Ego Arno Te) is a poeti~. expressio.n of the words of St. John and of St:Paul.~ S(. Ignatius, in his. "Contempla'tion for Obtaining Love," uses. the same psychology: he takes us 'from gratitude perfect, unselfish, disinterested love. First we count the_ ~ gifts of G6d to us, and, seeing their iaumberarid.their val~e, we are deeply grateful;,then, thriju.gh the gifts, which are so good, we rise t6 the consideration of.the infinite goodness. _ of the Giver. -When we say that perfect contrition is motivated by charity, and,that ctiarity.is the love of God forHis'~swn-sake, we do not mean. that perfect- contrition exclude~ all other mot.ives. It is_quite Eroper:for us to be grateful fO God for his benefits, to ~desire to enjoy the happiness of" heaven, tO fear the punishments of hell, and so forth. iuch truths furnish motivation for sorrow for sin; and the} _ 338 -- September, 1944 _ " " ~ " ~ "ARE YOU SORRY FOR YOUR SZNS o~", ~an exist'in the soul together .with the motive for perf&t ¯ : ~ " Imp'effect Contritidn Perfect dbntriti6n "isindeed e.xcellent; but we should -. not overlook the value of imperfect contrition. Imperfect -x6.n.trition is not enough of itself to do away witl~' mortal sin; yet eveh for those in the state of mortal, ~in it is very~ - . profitable. It disposes them togo ,an act Of perfect contrition, and in confessionit is a suffb cient disposition for absolution. ; As for. venial sins,~ theologians commonly, teach that ii~perfet~ contrition is enough for their remission outside ~ ~. of confessibh.~ Hence, those who. have only venial sihs-on their s0ul nee'd not be particularly solicitous about their motives-when, they make an act of contrition;any one of the many possible supernatural motives for detesting their sins will be a suffi'cient basis for a fruitful act of contrition. Elements of All Contrition "It is:of little' ~vai[ to consider the necessity and kinds of ~ontrition, if one's notion of contrition itself is not clear; hence it will be worth our wb~le to return to the first sen-tence of this article. I indicated there that, according to ¯ the Council of Trent, all contrition contains three ifi~red.i- 'ents: detestation, grief, and purpose of amendment. And, of course, as a prerequisite to any act of contrition, there-must be tbe~realization that one has done wrong. -Hence, ev,ery act of contrition.includes in some way, four psycho-logicalsteps: owe realize t~at w~ have sinned; we detest w.hat'we did; we grieve ove~ it; and _we.resolve to amei~d. I should not want to encourageanyone to be technical . in l~is prayers; yet I think that we can all profit by occa- . .sipnal.ly taking apart an 'act of~c~ntrition by thinking over" the me,aning of each of-these psychological steps, and by 339 1. ~GER/(LD KELLY' ,_ ~, Review for Reli~l~ous oactu~i!ly mfikirtgthe'steps-slowlyand prayerfully. In the -subsequent paragraphs, my purpose'is to offer some explg~ _nations and sugg.e, st!ons that might be an aid to one who wants to m~ke ~n act of contrition meditatively. Perhaps I ought to preface .mY ~ema~ks with a brief statement con~cer.ning their doctrinal val~e. Tl'ie Church_ -has mad_e it quite clear that an hct of contrition must t~in-c~rtain elements; but she has let~t the detailed explana-tion of these elements to her theologians. I have drawn rny~ _explanations f.rp_m the works of eminent theologians; yet I realize that on some points the theological_literature is, somewhat obscu.re and that differences of opinion~are pe'~- missible. In all cases of obscurity or uncertainty, I have aimed to limit my sugges.tions, to what is safe and prac-ticable. R~alization When v~e make an act of contrition we have .to be c~a- "scious of the fac~ that we ourse.lves have done evil. This ° ~upposes, of course, a speculative appreciation of the evil ., of sin; but.it does~not stop with mere speculation. The ~ purpose of the realization which precede~s and motivates the act of contrition is to get the sinner to turn away from his~ ow_n sins, with grief and a purpose of amendment. There-fore, it is well to begin a meditative act of contrition with .a conscx0u.sness of one s own sins. This d~es not ne.cess_arily" mean a detailed examination of conscience; but it does imply at least ~i general recalling of one's sins. -- In our catechism books' we say that an ~ct of contrition~ must~ be suoerna.tu~al: th_at is, it must be made wi~b God's grace and. it must be based bn a motive drawfi from~ ~-evelatiori. We may takefor granted that God gives",the grac.e, but we ourselves, have to,s,upply the supernatural motive by considering our sins in the light of some revealed 340 ,State'bet, 1944 , ~ AR~ YOU SORRY FOR YOURSINS~ [ruth. Am6ng,t~e many [~uths t~a~ h~Ip to show,us the e~i!;0f~our sins,, I might suggest the following. Tbe jogs of beaoen, or tbe oai~s~of bell: These are directly applicable to mortal sin, because mortal sin depr~ves us of' our righ~ to heaven and makes us deserving of hell. But the thoughf of heaven can als0 be abplied venial sin because, after all, the/e are degrees of ~lory~in heaven, an~d venial sin kdeps us from attai~ng a higher ~ degree'of glory. EVen the thought of hell can be used as a motive for repenting of venial sin,' because by. commitdn~ ~ vernal sins we might form habits that would lead to mortal ~ sin or_ we might lose certain special g?aces that would at _,times be. necessary in order ~o overcome serious temptfi--~ ,tibns. And, of course, a consideratibn of purgatory,, especially as a painfu~ delay in reaching~ur heavenly h6me, ' "is directly appl:icable to venial sire Tbe Olories o~ sa~ati~i~g ~tace: Grace makes our Souls ,,.beautiful in the ~yes of God; it makes us His adopted chil, .~dren, tharers in His nature, heirs to His happiness. Mortal sin loses this priceless possession for us; venial sin, though - it does not. affect the grace in our. s6uls, represents a~ lost opportunity to grow in grace. Tbe Passio~ o~ 6at Eord: This furnishes fine motiva- ~i0n ~or sorrow for either mortal or venial ,sin. And the same ma? be said-f6r any aspect of our Lord's life, because . everything we know about Him is~ calculated to. increase our admiration andlove of Him and thusshow us by contrast ~. the mefinness of our failure to live according to ~the pattern "'He has given Us. Tbe~doctrine of tbd Redemotion and of our Oa~f i~ itS" God has united us in such a way that_we can help one another ~n the w~y of sai~ation and sanctification. ~n ap~reciafion of this~'truth and of its tremendou~ imp)ica-tion~ gives us a new light on sin:- it.is n0f onlE harmful to ,V ourselves; it is a:refusal.to cooperate ~n~a glOrious-cause.-:,. ~, The ~divine wis~bm hbd2~ood~:~ Prdp~rly~under-stood, ~ this is the most all-embracing and fundafien:tal ~afid, ~I-might ~d, the simplest of motives for ~ detesting sim~ It ~ takes us back to the ohe reason why we and thiswhole world exist at all: namely, to share in the divine goodness"~ according to the ;nfihitely wise plan of God Himself. - By Sin~ we do what we can to thwart His plan; we voluntarily prevent Him from ~iving Hi~self to us as He wishes to ~do~" Ddtestation The whole purpose of meditating on~ ohe of the~ fore-going ~t?uths, or on some similar revdaled truth, is to pre-pare the soul for a~ act of contrition. In~the actor con, trifion itself, tb~ first step is detestation. ~. ~ ~ ~ ; ~ Theologians generally agree, I.believ~, that, as a distinct element-in~ the act of contrition, ~detestation refers.~to the~ p~st. The sinner goes back, so ~o speak, on the a~t that h~> peLformedtand deliberately, chooses to do just the opp~sit~ from what he did when he sinne~. In sinning,,he chose.hi~ o~n will to God's Will; now Ee turns away from his for-mer choide and unites his will to God's will. - " E~idently we cannot undo an act that i~ dong. ~ We;an ,make reparation fdr it; we can.pay damages; we can some-. times ~top it~ effects;, but the fact that" act was performed cghnot be changed. The best that we~can do ~ith~regard to the past act-is to wish we had not done it. "And'that seems~to be-the most apt way khat'we can deScrib~ detesta- 5ion of sinf it is a deliberate wish:that the act'had not been p~rformed. ,- ~ _". " It'is probabl~ not advisable, in making ~ meditative act of contrition, to spend a great deal of time on tgis point. There~ is no direct way of testing an ifiterio~ disposi;tidn such as'detestation, and we are likely to be disturbed, e~e~ _ ~ ~, . - _ T~ ~,S~p,~ember0 1944 ~. _ '-~'ARE YOU ~0RR~ FOR YOUR SINS? . ' ~:ofrightened',~ ,by our, sen~-tove and'- self=love. ~For-'th'ese o " Causes of sin are just asstrong a.s the were. wiaen the'sin ~ "was performsd and they keep. telling us that they liked the sin and.that,they are glad it happened. Hence, if we'dwel[. ~,= long oh this point, we areapt to think that we have no con- ~trition, at all. It is better to make a simple act'of the will: ';~ " ,,"BeCause I n6w see the evil that I did, I wish I had not --~ committed it"; and then. go on to the ndxt point. In prac-tice, we can~ take for granted that we have the )equired " - --~ ,--~d~testation if we have the realization, grief, and purpose ¯ "of amendment. . Grief of Soul ¯ ~" ~ Tile blessed, in heaven can detest their sins but they can-not griev~ o~er them. "i~he reason for this is that grief .Supposes the presence of an evil, and the sins of the blessed-are merely past acts, ttie evil effects o~ which have all been ~emoved ~= With us, th~ case is different." For instance, when a man co .mmits.a mortal sin, his ~oul immediately becomes an, . ~'~ Object of re, proach before God. .This is an evil effect of sin "~ ~over which he can certainly grieve. After the man makes a o""~ood confession, he can have a reasonable assurance that he~ has regained God's friendship, but h~ is not sure that'a11 effects of his sin are removed. There may be some tern, ¯ poral ptinishn~ent~ to ,undi~rgo; there mas} be some weak~: : "hess in the sofil, Some special liability to sin, thaf results ~ro~ his former sin.Because of the possibility that such ,._e~il effects may continue, we~,can griev~ over our sin~all t_hr0ugh our lives, because this possibility keeps the sins ~)'present to us at least in some sense. . ~. Perhaps the best way to describe the grief of soul which constitutes the second element of contrition is to"say that. -o jt'il a desire to get.rid of, tO shake off, the effects of our sins; ~ERALD KELLY " ' + ¯ " -Rem'e t+o °/: "o +r Religious. b&ause-- we- realize that m these effects our detestable +sins sti+il:cling to us. , We have~ to remind good people again and again that grief over sin-is not fiecessarily a matter of feeling. To~ u~e - an illustration, let us suppose that two men get, their hands:.,+ and arms cgyered with.m, qd. The firs~ man likes mtid ahd lqeenjoys being covered with it; the secon'd man does .like it. Then suppose that +while.they are covered" wi+~h~the+ ' mud they find oul~ tha(.this particular mud is very harmful to ttie skin." Both of them immediately try. to wash it bff, _ The example illustrates the difference betw+en acci~ dental grief and essentialgri+ef. On!y one of. the.men had a ~ +feelin9 of' repugnance for tlhe mud, yet both of+ them" tried to bedrid of it when they fbund it wa~s harmful. Sb Jr'is with+ Sorrow for sin. To feet-grief over the effects of sin is good, and may even be called an accidental perfection of dontri~" tion'; but theessential thing "is.to want" to be ¯rid of the.e~,i]. ¯ The besl~ exl~ression of grief, therefor)e, is'n61~ tears, but the sincere will to go to confession, to make.an act ~of per-fect contrition, to gain.indulgences, to repair an. injury dorfe' ~, .~to one's neighbor, to accept some hardship willingly in+ re16aration for one's sins, to¯ do some voluntary penahce' for the same purp?se, and so forth. ' These ale the means of: ~dbing away with the effects of our sins; hence, the will to ~do ~uch things is a tangible, way of showing ourselves that we are sorry, no matter how _we feel. Purpose of Amendment ._ ++. Purpose of'arr;endment, though by no mean~ the whole - of contrition, is 'a very important part of it, and probably~ tile best practical proof of it. No_one can have real contri-~ tion unless he intends to "amend" his lifd, but as" ~hi~ "amen "ament~ can have diffeient meanings for~ differefit ~cases; it may be well for us to consider some examplesdr ",8el~(ember, i944 . k ~ ~ ARE YOU SORRy_ FOR YOUR SINS-t these var"ia t"ions. Suppose .that a man who ha~ committed mort.ai gins sinc~ his last confessibn now wants to regain the state of "grace. W~hether he goes to confession, or makes an act-of perfect contrition with the intention of'goirig to confession, he must' certainly be besolved to "amend", his life. And ~ince ¯ his~c0ntr~tion concerns mortal sinsl hispurpose of amend-ment must be really absolute: tha.t is, he~ must intend to - avoid all mortal sin in the future. He would have tohave the same uncompromising r~solutidn, even if he had. com-imitted~ only one mortal sin. The "purpose of_sinni.ng no .more" applies quite literally tO the'case,of mortal sin. On the other hand, suppose the case of a man who has committed only venial sins since hi~ last confession, but . W.ho now- wishes to make an act of contrition for all h~s venial sins because he wants to'gaifi a plenary indulgence. .What kind of purpose.of amendment'must this man have? "The question is not easy to answer with perfect satisfac- ' tionf but it seems safe to say that it is sufficient for him if fie~.retains no attachment'toany venial sins (in the sense . that he intends to continue to commit t/'2ose Sins) and that he has at least a general intention to improve, for example, o' "~ by reducing the number of his venial sins. We mighi add that it is generally recommended that °such a man should -center his purpose of amendment, on the correction of some-~. thing definite. This recommendation is given ~becausel .experience teaches us that a general purpose o~ amendrfient ~,~is likely to prove ineffective "and that the act .of iontrition ih such' a case is ap.t to degenerate into a mere fobr~ula,~,a bit of wishful thinking, and.nothing more. ~, ~ ' ~ ~'A third case: A man has committed only ve'nial.sins since his last confession,, and he knows that be really" is not contrite for some of these sins: yet be'does wish to make a fiind~re act'of contrition" for 6ne kind of sin: for exa.mplq, 345 ~ ¯ GERALI~ KELLY ~ - ~i~iew ~br Religious iying.~ What must be this man's p~rpqse of amendment? ~.- Again, the case is not~asy fo s01~e with perfect satisfactions: but it seems Safe to give this practical~ rule: Ifthe man's lies -are of the ~ull~ ~libecate kind, he ought to'be resolved avoid them entirely; bfit if-the lies are rather.qn the~semi~ deliberate side~. ~he ought at least to have the good will try to reduce their number. In ~he'foregoing cases,-"amendment, of life'~ was used in. its ordiflary, everyday sense: tfiat is~. ~s an impfove~en¢ over one's recent Conduct. 'There is a fourth case, in which the expression,.e~idently has a different, meaning.: sj[der, for example, the holy K~ng David. _He offended God~ seriop~ly; then_he repented of that sin, was_forgiven, as far as we know, lived many years in the friendship, of God. Yet he continued to recite his Miserere for his past ' lapse fr6m grace. I.t would be absurd to think that this Miserere was-not a good act of cpntrition; but if it was " an-act ofcontrition, in what- did the amendment cod~ist? It ~eems obvious that "amendment"-. in such circumsta~e~ .has a wide meaning:~ that.is, it refers to the renewed pur-pOSe of continuing the reform that had begun Years ag6> The case of David is repeated week after-week iK our confessionals throughout the world. People sin~ mortally in their youth; they confess the~e sins, and then live.for-mony~ years without'furthe} serious lapses. Yet these peo- , p1~, can certainly make acts. of contrition for the "bld": mortal., sins;' in fact, they are e~n advised to i.nclude t~ese -sins in their.confessions io that they may benefit more and more by theabsolution. In their case, as ih David s,.the ~ purpose of amendment-for their mort~l sins d0~sno~ redan. :~ an_ intention to correct their present .lives, but" rather- the. renewed purpose to persevere in the amendment.th#t has, 10rig ~ince beefi brought about. The examples illustrate the various aspects ~of and 346 " ,'~':. September, 1944" - - ARE YOU SORRY FOR Y~)UR SINSt ~ requisit~ for ~u~pose of amendmefit. In our own case, ~when we m'ake an act-of contrition, we shall-, generally find a combination of these examples. We have sins of the past, "for .which it is sufficient to.renew our purpose of amend-r~ en~, and°retent sifts which" call" for real amendmen, t o and '~"~ defiriite resolutions. ~" " _ ~We sa~ that the, f.eelings sometimes present a p~ycho-.- °logicaldifficul~y in estimating detestation and grief.- Some- ~"°~hing ,~imilar can happen .wi.th regard.to purpSse of amend- "-~ ment, parti[ul~rly when ha,bitual sins of frailty are in.- '~yol~red. The sinner realizeshis w~akn~ss and, e~ien-.when he makes~ his act of contrition or goes to con'fession,, he "'~feels,sure" that he is going to sin again. Because of thi~, ,.he wonders if he really has a purpose of amendment. . ~"fh~ ,solution to the difficulty lies in a.proper under- ~- standing 6f~a purpose of amendment. I~ is not an act' of ~' the ~ind, but_of the will. It is a sincere.intention to try to dmend; and to take the means necessary.for doin~ that. .::'" ,The"'f.e~ling ~hat one will sin again" may result, not from any" ill~ will, but from the consciousness-that one is weak -~ and that this weakness has expressed itself again and again. Nevertheless, there is no weakness that cannot be Overcome by.serious effort and the grace'of God: Even the most habitual sinner can,,,resolve to make the effort, and he may 'il~ei iure that GSd will give ttie grace. And ,he should not "be ~li~scou.raged if he ~does fall again; ,this may simply be a -~ sign that he h~s not 'yet discovered the proper means for, correcting his particular bad habit. Sometimes people think, that all .they need to do to°~ oirercome bad habits is to go to the sacraments frequently. This'is only one. aspect of the solu[ion. It will ne~ver work unle.ss the sinner ~akes the more obvious means of avoiding "-occasions of sin, of exercising himself in self-control, and~ ~ sd forth 347 K~:LLY~,. ¯ ~ .,. ~ GERALD . . :- ~ " My afialysis of the act of contrition has been lofig.-Yet I.hop-e it ~cbntgins some helpfUl.suggestions. "~In pa~?ticular2 I think that many would find it fruitful to make a medi-tative act of contrition o~casionall) for example, ,during the morning'meditation on confession day. ~The Cl~urch evidently wants us to draw gre~t profit from frequent fe~ssion; and for.this there.is no m~ans more. effective tha~n~. an increase in contrition. ~" o BOOKLE-rs H~cmn and Psalm~ to Our Lad~l is the title of a: handy little, pamphlet containing "an, English translktioa of the Te" Matcem De/ Laadamus and the "5 Psalms" honor Of Ou~ Lady. Readers who are interested tanget the booklet fr,6mothe erend d,ude Senieur, O.F.M.Cap.0 Capuchin College, Brookland, Washington D.C. The pamplet is sold for the cost "of printing and mailing: individual copies 5 cents each; lots of 25 or more at greatly reduced rates. MV Particialar Ex~men Book is a tiny pamphlet containing many~helpful sug-.,.~ gestions concerning the pa,rticular,examen.and a.numbeE of ruled pages.for marking th~ examen. It is published by- the Franciscan Sisters of the Perpetual Adoration.~ ~t. Rose Convent, La Crosse, ,Wisconsin'. The, booklet began ~s a prtvate com-munity project, but the Sis[ers are now offering it to-other groups of religiotis prac2 tically at cost ($3.00 a hundred) in order to stimulate the use of the particular~ -'xamen as an important nieans of spiritu,al advancement. "Anal~lsis of the. New Testament, by. Cyril Gaul. O.S.B. An excellenL booklet. the fruit of m~ny years of teaching Scripture at St.~, Meinrad's Seminary. In accbrd with Pius X's Qaoniarn i~ re Biblica, the author has provided seminarians with an analysis of the various New'Testament books which all priests and ~he laity will welcome. 77 pages. Price: ~40 cents a copy, postpaid; 4 fol $1.00. Address: SL Meinrad Historical Essays, St. Meinrad. Indiana. ' 348 ~XINT DOMINIC,.AND HI~ WORK. By fhe Reverend Pierre Mandon-net, O.P~ Translated by Sister Mary Benedic÷a Larkln,.O.P.~ Pp.~xvlll ~- 487. B. Herder Book Co., Sf~ Louis, 1944. $S.00. -~ : According to a contemporary account, "the Blessed" Dominic w~as of medium height and of slight build. His Countenance was;hand-some:, of fair complexion, with light auburn hair and beard and. lt~minous eyes. A~kind of radiance shone from his br6~. inspiring love and reveren.ce in,all. Full of joy, he seemed e~rer ready to smile, unlesS, moved to ~pity by the affliction of his neighbor. His hands were long and shapely; his voice itrong,, noble and sonorous. He n~ever was bald, and his corona was complete, sprinkled with:~a few white hairs." Along withthis ratherpleasing exterior; he possessed al,so ver, y exceptional interior gifts of'mind, heart, and Will. And if to this~be added,his life-long faithful correspondence with "so many extr~ordina~ry graces, even.mystical ones, we have tl~e man of action Of whom Pierre Mandonnet, O.P.,-a historian df repute, could say: ]'You may quote'me whenever you wish. I consider Saint Dominic as a religibus founder the greatest o~ganizer that ever trod this earth after~the Lord Jesus Christ." To decide whether, or not that jUdg-ment is true requires a careful re~ding of this volume. It is a little~ Summa of Dominican brigins. ~" . P~re Mandonnet once jotted down on a slip of paper: "T0.re~d." :jo.y; to think, delight; .to write, torture." The last three" wor, d.s may be a par~tial explanation why the present work was far from com-i~' le}ed" when he'died in 1936.- But'he had done ~he reading and'the thi_nking, indeed, a. great deal of both: and he had outlined the chap-ters unit had written,some of them. Fortunately, he had competent ¯ disciples and co-workers. Orie of these, Marie-Humbert Vicair~e, O.P., ~ orghnized the .copious material gathered over many.years, and' sup-plement'ed it with critical notes and studies of his own. Anotpey,. Reginald Ladn~r, O.P., contributed a.do~umentedt.background chap-teron the plight of preaching in the twelfth c~ntury. The result is a book, pi~blished in 1939,somewhat lacking in unity and coherence, but substant~ally P~re Mandonnet s, both as to content and arran~e-~ ment. The contributions~.of Vicaire and Ladner are signed by-them, gut this is not noted in the'table of contents, as it should be. , 349 BOOk KEVIEWS _ . ~ Review.for Reli~.lio!is - ¯ Tile~bobl~-is d.ivided into tWO parts. The first part'presents the bis.~orical .setting, sketches tl~e iife of Saint Dominic, and develops at "length .his arduous l~bors in~fgunding and organizing the Order of. ¯ Preachers. Ciearly seen is thehand of Divine Providence, raising up a new Orderto meet the p~culiar religious needs of the times. In the early'thirteenth century,, the gradual coll~p~ of the old feudal s~rstem an~l the growing prominence of the towns a~ad communes brought about a changed order of things. The lower clergy, for the ~ost p_art ignorant and untrained, was too slow adapting itself to the altered situation. T, he bishops were more occupied w~th temporaht~es than" with tlSeir apostolic duty of preaching the .word of God: 5As-a ~ cdns~quence, the faithful, especially in the towns, began to drift away "frOm the Churchqnto heresies and schisms of various kinds. There,. ~was pressing need for an instructed clergy and for preachers of the Gospel. Saint Dominic, the zealous and learned sub-prior~ of the ¯catl~edrai'chapter of O~ma in Spain; was the man of Providence. was chosen~by Innocent the Third to found an Order qf poor priests~' -whose task would 15~ to preach to the people and to teach theology to ~ti~e clerics; in~brief,~"to contemplate and to give to others the fruits of contemplation." It was Dominic's Order that v/as to play such an important and successful. ~ole in carrying out the objectives ~of the- -Fourth Lateran Council~"the reform of the Church, the refor.rn of morals, the extirpation of heresy, and the strengthening "of the" Faith." Ma.y we not say that the Friars Preachers have never ceased ~_ doing, just that? ,The" second part of the book is" concerned with the Rule of Saint Augustine and its relation to the Rule of Saint Dominic. P~re.Mari~ donnet se.edas to have proved .his point: namely, that the Dominican riales and. constitutions,are, an organic development of the second. the,three 'rules of:Sainv Augustine, and. not, as-wfis though_Ufor,~a ~ ¯ lpng time, of the tliird, the famous Epistle.to certain religious women. The .second Rule is that primitive.Rule followed by a com~mentary" .which gaint,)~ugustiiae drew up in 391 for his first community~ of men. This study reveals, the'hand of a master,historian aiad is the most valuable section of the whole work. COncluding the~book-by way of appendices are five important "h'iDstoomriicnai lc astnueds,i"e s",w .aotnceh doof gwsh oicf hth dei sLcoursds.e's.' t Fheiv oer sigimini loafr tshteu deixeps~re~s sbiuotn~- of'a.more restricted and technical nature, l~ave been omitted from the., Efigl~ish e~liti0n. There_is

H. DeWayne Ashmead ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 66p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Harvey DeWayne Ashmead Interviewed By Rebecca Ory Hernandez 22 October 2012 29 October 2012 26 November 2012 i ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Harvey DeWayne Ashmead Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 22 October 2012 29 October 2012 26 November 2012 Copyright © 2013 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in the University Archives, which also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Ashmead, Harvey DeWayne, an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 22 and 29 October 2012 and 26 November 2012, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. H. DeWayne Ashmead November 26, 2012 1 Abstract: H. DeWayne Ashmead (DOB: June 4, 1944), President and CEO of Albion Laboratories, Inc., shared his oral history with Rebecca Ory Hernandez from Weber State University during the months of October and November 2012. DeWayne sat with Rebecca in his executive office and shared stories about his life, including his childhood, his education, the history of Albion, Inc., his family, and his partnership with Weber State University. DeWayne spoke in detail about his father and the history of the Albion minerals business. DeWayne also expanded on his background in joining the company and developing Albion Laboratories into what it is today ROH: Today is Monday, October 22, 2012. We are in the office of Albion Laboratories. Present are H. DeWayne Ashmead and Rebecca Ory Hernandez from Weber State University. I would like to get started by asking you to state your name and tell me where and when you were born. DA: My full name is Harvey DeWayne Ashmead. I am named after my father, Harvey. I was born June 6, 1944, on D-Day in Brigham City. I could have had a lot of different middle names. My mother debated whether or not to name me Dwight after Dwight Eisenhower because it was D-day and he led the D-day forces. Ultimately, she decided to name me DeWayne, the "De" standing for D-day. ROH: Were you born in the hospital or at home? DA: In the hospital. My father was the head pharmacist at Bushnell General Hospital in Brigham City and my mother was also working at the hospital. There was a 2 4,500 bed hospital for the soldiers, but I was born in the civilian Brigham City Hospital not the military hospital. ROH: Why don't you tell me a little bit about your parents and your childhood? DA: My parents were really cool. I have often said that when I grew up I wanted to be just like my dad, so I'll start with him. His name was Harvey. He was born in a log cabin out on the prairie in 1916. This was in Camas County, Idaho near a community that no longer exist called Corral. He grew up riding horses and doing all the things kids did I suppose. When he was a toddler, the Indians tried to steal him and when they couldn't steal him they tried to buy him. Apparently, he was very attractive to the Indians. He grew up helping his father and brothers on what became the family farm at Corral. It was initially a cattle ranch until his father got into a dispute with the sheep men. The sheep men won, so the cattle had to be sold and they converted the ranch to a farm. He went to a single classroom grade school through the eighth grade with a single teacher that taught all of the grades at once. When he went to high school in the ninth grade, he had to move away from home and board with a family in the city of Fairfield about 10 miles away from home. At that point in time, it was too far to commute. He would stay there all winter and go to high school there. When he graduated from high school, his father wanted him to come back and help him on the farm. My dad wanted to go to college. My grandfather said, "That's stupid. I've got an eighth grade education and I've been very successful. 3 You've got a high school education you don't need to go to college." My dad persisted and he had to send himself to college and support himself. He used to say he was the best latrine cleaner around, which I suppose means that he was a janitor. ROH: Where did he go to college? ZD: He went to Idaho State University and graduated in pharmacy. Initially, that's what he wanted to do. My grandfather, upon learning that he was studying pharmacy, gave my father a little bit of money to help him in college because he recalled that during prohibition the local pharmacist made the best moonshine of anyone in the valley. He assumed that what my father was learning how to do was to make moonshine. Anyway, my father became a pharmacist. Later on in life he did not practice pharmacy, but he still maintained the license. After he was married to my mother, they went off to graduate school. My mother wanted to get a degree in speech pathology and my father wanted to get a medical doctor's degree. They went to Washington State University. They almost starved to death, so they had to come back and live in the real world. That's about when I was born. Ultimately, my father got a doctor's degree in biochemistry and considered himself to be a biochemist, not a pharmacist. My mother came from a family that was much more interested in education. My grandfather, who was born in the 1880's, had a bachelor's degree from the University of Utah. My grandmother had a degree from BYU. Since both had college degrees it was expected that all of their children would go to college. 4 My mother went to Utah State University and got her bachelor's degree in English and was qualified to be a school teacher. She wanted to go on for graduate work. Ultimately, she did her master's work at the University of Denver and got her master's degree and doctoral degree at the University of Utah in speech pathology and oral myology. They were both highly educated. ROH: Yes, indeed. Were you all expected to go to college? DA: Yes. I have three sisters. Two of them went to college. My oldest sister, who is three years younger than I, went to one year of college and said, "I don't like this." She got married instead. My other two sisters went on and both got bachelor's degrees and one got her doctorate. We were expected to go to college. ROH: Tell me a little bit about growing up and your childhood leading up to when you started grade school. Do you have any stories or memories from childhood that stand out? DA: Probably none that I really recall. I can think of two or three, but nothing significant. My mother used to tell a story that she liked to repeat frequently. When we were still living in Brigham City, at the end of the Second World War, there were a lot of Native Americans that lived in Brigham City. She talks about one occasion when I was just a toddler, I was playing outside and a family of Indians went down the street in single file from the father to the mother, then all the kids down to the smallest. My mother said that I watched them walk by and just got in line to follow them right down the street. There were all of these brown- 5 skinned Indians and a little white boy in a diaper going down the street. She said it was really a funny sight to see. ROH: Where did you go to school? DA: From Brigham City, we moved a lot. We moved to Salt Lake and ultimately moved to Denver where I started my public education. My father accepted employment in Brooklyn, New York, but my mother said, "I'm not going." We remained in Denver while Harvey started the veterinary division of Pfizer Laboratories in New York. He was one of the senior management at Pfizer and was one of the candidates for the presidency of Pfizer when he left the company. While at Pfizer, he would commute between Brooklyn and Denver while we stayed in Denver. I recall one of the things I did one summer in Denver. I attended a Methodist Bible School that summer which was kind of interesting. I graduated from the Methodist Bible School and don't recall too much about the classes other than that they gave me a certificate and a pencil, so that was important. I started grade school near our home. I may have used a school bus, but I don't recall it. As time went on in grade school I did use a bus and I'll come back to that in a minute. My mother talks about one time she was supposed to pick me up after school and she was late getting there. All of the teachers and students left and she still wasn't there. She said I hid in the bushes so people couldn't find me. I waited for her for a while and finally sat out on the curb until she came to 6 pick me up. She said my comment was, "I knew you'd come and get me." This school was from kindergarten to third grade. In the second grade, I had a girlfriend. For years I've struggled to remember her name and haven't struggled hard enough because I can't remember it. Nevertheless, she was really an important girlfriend. I wanted her to sit by me on the bus. I was terribly shy, but I bribed her by giving her the little prizes out of the cracker jacks boxes. I had a big collection so I'd give her a prize every day if she'd sit by me on the bus. Apparently, she liked me as well because the kids started teasing her about it and dared her to give me a kiss. One day, she leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek and I was mortified. ROH: You weren't counting on that. DA: No, I wasn't, but it was wonderful. I brought her home from school one day to meet my parents and I had her wait in the foyer so I could go tell my parents. They told me I had to sit down and eat right then. So, I went back to the foyer and told her she had to go home and that's the last memory I have of her. Anyway, we started grade school with kindergarten. I remember having to take naps in kindergarten. It was an all-day kindergarten not a half day, but we had to take a nap. I remember very little from first and second grade except that a third grader was misbehaving and his teacher sent him back to the second grade as punishment. It was just to shame him. I can remember my second grade teacher having him sit next to me and we were doing an art project. I looked at what he was coloring or drawing and how much better it was than what 7 I could create because he was older and it really impressed me. I remember some of the early books, Dick and Jane books that we had to learn to read from and how stupid they were. In the winter, my mother would worry about me getting cold, so she insisted that I wear long-legged underwear. I hated them and did not want to wear them, but I did because she insisted. She even bought a pair for my father just to show me, "See, even real men wear long underwear." We had gymnastics tumbling. On one occasion, we were going to perform in front of an audience and my mother was supposed to bring me some regular short underwear because we had to wear short shorts and t-shirts for this tumbling. She didn't show up in time and I had to roll that long underwear up and try and hide it underneath my shorts. I wasn't very successful and I was mortified. I don't remember anything about the tumbling. I just remember that terrible long-legged underwear. ROH: Did you enjoy school? Was it always something that you liked? DA: I always liked school. I enjoyed school from grade school throughout my university career. In fact, if I had the time and the patience, I'd go back to school right now. I don't really have the time and I don't really have the patience to listen to some professor's pontificate on things that I know as much or more about. I just wouldn't put up with it. ROH: Tell me where you fall in line of your siblings. Are you the oldest? DA: I am the oldest. I have a sister who is three years younger, another six years younger and another that is 13 years younger than I. 8 ROH: Are they all still living? DA: Yes. They're all still living. ROH: You went through third grade in Denver. Did you stay in Denver that entire time or did you move back and forth from Kindergarten to third grade? DA: We moved some. My parents were struggling financially. I just learned that probably in the last year as I've been trying to write a little history of my parents. They struggled and for some of the time that we were living in Denver, my mother took my sister and me to Idaho. She dropped us off at her parents' home in Idaho and left her parents to raise us while she taught school in another community. She had a license to teach school in Idaho and Utah, but not in Colorado. My father was basically living in Brooklyn at the time, so it didn't matter if she was in Idaho or Colorado because he wasn't coming home. There were no jets, it was all prop planes and it was expensive. He would come home about once every couple of months and wouldn't stay more than a day or two or three and he'd be gone again. He was building a veterinary drug company for Pfizer in New York. I also remember one time being with my grandparents in Kimberly, Idaho and my mother was asked to be a substitute teacher. There was a teacher that wasn't able to fulfill the teaching contract and my mother agreed to teach grade school for a month or so until they could find another teacher. Idaho schools started prior to the Colorado schools, so she put me in school along with my cousin while she taught our class. My cousin would call her Aunt Allez until 9 he was teased into calling her Mrs. Ashmead. I called her Mom until I was teased into calling her Mrs. Ashmead. For about a month she was my grade school teacher and then we went back to Colorado. In about 1953, the financial difficulties that my parents were facing were becoming a crisis. They needed more money. My mother found employment in Utah working for the state. She had completed most of her requirements for her master's degree in speech pathology in Denver, so she told my father she was going to move back to Utah. She couldn't work in Colorado, but she could in Utah. My father decided that it was time for him to resign from Pfizer, even though they offered him the presidency. He quit and came back to Utah with my mother. ROH: Do you know why he quit? DA: Because my mother was moving. I suspect that his employment was putting a strain on their marriage and it was probably heading for divorce if he didn't quit. That's purely speculation. I never heard the "D" word at all. I never saw any indication that my parents wanted to separate. They were both highly motivated individuals trying to rise to the top of their careers, but when it came to the family and the marriage they pulled back together and my father decided to sacrifice his career to go with my mother back to Utah. He didn't quit immediately and move back to Utah. He moved to Utah and subsequently resigned from Pfizer two years later in 1955. 10 My mother went to work for the state of Utah in the education department as a speech pathologist. She went to the University of Utah to finish her degree and was awarded her master's degree at the University of Utah. She worked for the state of Utah for about a year and was then offered a position in Davis County to start a speech and hearing program. She accepted that and we moved to Kaysville because it was the center of Davis County so she could move in either direction. She started the speech and hearing program for the county initially on her own, but it grew into two employees that worked for her. Plus, she was supervising 12 students from the university who were also working for her. The speech and hearing program in Davis County became the model for the rest of the state. It then became the model for other countries. I can recall that she was invited to the Soviet Union to train them on how to set up a speech and hearing program for their school system. She went elsewhere around the United States on behalf of the state of Utah to teach others how to do this. She became quite well-known in this area and by the time she got her doctorate, she was one of six people in the world qualified to do what she did and the only woman. I am proud of her. She graduated the same year with her doctorate that I got my bachelor's from Weber. I've got pictures of her in her doctoral robes and me in my Weber State robes. ROH: Do you recall any conversations about why you weren't all just moved up to New York? 11 DA: My mother did not want to go any further East. During the First World War, my father worked on a research project to stabilize penicillin so it could be used to treat the wounded soldiers. He was successful in developing a stabilized form of penicillin. It became widespread in its usage around the world because of the work he did. While he was at Bushnell General Hospital, he started to work on an amino acid therapy for soldiers that were burned. Burn patients were losing amino acids, and the doctors said, "We have to give them amino acids." However, the amino acids were so vile that most soldiers that tried to drink the concoction would vomit it back before they could even get it swallowed. Some started even before then as they got it close to their nose. My father started working on a palatable form of amino acids. It was, for the most part, developed before the end of the war, but not in its final stage. The drug company, Mead- Johnson, hired my father at the end of the war to go back to Evansville, Indiana to finish the project. My father went back there and joined their research and development group and finished the project. In fact, if you look at the drink "Ensure" and the infant formulas, all of them have their genesis in the work that he did. I've had scientists tell me that they actually saw the notebooks that my father had written at Mead-Johnson and saw what he developed. During that time, I was an infant and I was left with my grandparents while my mother went with my father back to Indiana. When he completed that research, Mead- Johnson offered him full-time employment, but neither of parents particularly liked living in Indiana. They went on to New York, then to Florida and elsewhere 12 for several weeks looking around and neither of them were in love with what they saw. I suspect that my mother in reflecting on those initial trips said, "I don't want to go any further East than Denver. I was born and bred in the West, I'm going to stay in the West and I don't want my kids growing up in the East." They had purchased a home in Denver. I suspect they were having trouble making house payments, but it was still their home. I know that my mother did not have a car which made it difficult with two babies and having to take street cars to get wherever she wanted to go including a grocery store. ROH: It was probably rough. Let's continue with your education. DA: Our first home when we moved from Denver to Salt Lake was near a school where I went to the fourth grade. The principal was Mr. Walker, who plays a role a little bit later in my life, so I'll come back to him in just a minute. In the fourth grade, we lived near the school. I had a girlfriend. I had lots of girlfriends. ROH: You did. DA: I'm not a Latin lover but I had lots of girlfriends. I had a girlfriend named Sandra West. My father loved to tease and of course at that age these girlfriends are secret girlfriends. Somehow, he found out that my girlfriend's name was Sandra West. I can remember him teasing me about that with my cousins. They were trying to discover what my girlfriend's name was and I wasn't about to tell them because it was secret. My father said, "Well, it isn't north, it isn't south, and it isn't east…" Then he stopped. I was mortified that he had told them. ROH: Now I know where you get your sense of humor. 13 DA: Her parents were friends with my folks, and I don't remember where, but it was earlier than just being in the neighborhood. Anyway, she was my girlfriend in the fifth grade. Then, we moved and Mr. Walker had a home that was about two or three miles from the school. The house that we were living in near the school was on a one year lease and the owners came back and they wanted their house, so Mr. Walker said, "Well, I have a rental house next to my house, you can come and live in it." My mother said, "Yeah, but I don't want to put my kids in a different school again." He said, "That's not a problem, they can stay in the same school and I'll take them to and from school." My parents agreed and we moved to a house on the Mill Creek east of Sugar House which had a big impact on me. I'll tell you about that in a moment. Anyway, this thing with Mr. Walker didn't work out. He left for school too early in the morning for us, so my parents had to take us to school. My sister and I, who were both in school there, didn't like waiting until 4:30 or later for him to get around to going home. We began walking the three or four miles to home. He never transported us really. ROH: That's a long walk. DA: It was, but we had to do it. There was no other option because my mother was working full-time and my father was still traveling. So, it was either go with Mr. Walker or walk home. This house was on the Mill Creek and it was a wonderful experience for me. All of my free time was spent exploring the woods along the creek and getting involved with the creek. When I think about it now, it was probably dangerous, but I didn't think about that. I was in the water and I did all sorts of things. I collected bugs and animals on the Mill Creek. I just thoroughly 14 loved it so much that I vowed that when I grew up I was going to have a home on the creek. After my wife and I were married, I searched for years for a creek and finally found one. We did build a home on the creek. It was because of that one year experience on the Mill Creek. ROH: Is it in Salt Lake? DA: No, it's in Fruit Heights. We built it on Baer Creek. When my wife and I found the creek, I followed it and found some land that I liked and tried to buy it. They wouldn't sell it to me. I found some additional land on the creek that I really liked and went to Davis County to find out who owned it. I found the name of the owner and went to him and said, "I'd liked to buy some property." This was all undeveloped property. He said, "Well, if I were to sell that land I'd have to have $12,000 an acre." I said, "Well, great. I want 3 acres." He said, "But I don't want to sell it." I said, "But I want it." So, for an entire year every week I either went and saw him or telephoned him to see if he would change his mind. Finally, after a year I had worn him down to the point he said, "Just take it." So, I bought the three acres. It was never a question of how much I was going to pay. It was just trying to get the land. We bought the land and ultimately built our house there where we still live. That was in 1976. ROH: Have you ever been back to the original Mill Creek house? DA: No. In fact, I question whether or not I could even find it. I probably could if I looked up an address, but we always called it the chicken coup because it looked like a chicken coup. A flat roofed chicken coup that had just been renovated into 15 a house. It was in a cul-de-sac with two other houses. Mr. Walker's house was the most elaborate. Then there was a second house that was next to his and it had solar panels on the roof. It was a solar energy house, which really would have been Avant Garde. I can remember the solar panels. I don't remember the people or what the husband did. Across from Mr. Walker's house in the cul-de-sac was the chicken coup where we lived. ROH: Were your sisters all born at this point? DA: No. I was born in Brigham City and my next sister was born in Salt Lake in 1947. My father was living in Denver trying to set up a home for my mother and me when my sister was born. My mother went into labor, and she didn't have a telephone so she went to the neighbor and used the neighbor's phone to call a taxi to come and get her. The taxi dropped her off in front of the hospital, took the money and said, "Goodbye." My mother went in with her big suitcase. She talked about only having one suitcase, the one she used when she went off to college to Utah State University. It was a big suitcase, not an overnight bag, but she lugged the big suitcase in and had the baby. She called my father and he got in the car in Denver and drove back to Salt Lake. My sister was born by then. He saw her for a couple of days and got back in his car and went back to Denver. My mother was in the hospital taking care of herself because he couldn't leave work. In Denver, my second sister was born in 1950. My father was at home and my mother was taking courses at the University of Denver. One of them was an arts and crafts course. I don't know why she was doing that, but the instructor 16 told her that regardless of the fact that she was pregnant, if she missed classes, she would be dropped from the program. When she went into labor, she had my father go to the class to take her place. The instructor asked my father what he wanted to do while he was there and he said, "Well, I'd like to carve a horse out of wood." The instructor said, "There's no way you can do that. You'd have to be trained for years and years to balance the horse. You just can't do it." So, my father went home and took out his pocket knife and carved a Tennessee Walker perfectly balanced on two feet with all the right muscles and everything. He took it back the next week and said, "Here." He'd never done anything like that before and it was a wonderful thing. That started his woodcarving hobby. He was extremely good at it. All of the pieces were professional pieces. On one occasion, I had two coloring books, a Roy Rogers coloring book and Gene Autry coloring book, each cowboy was featured on his horse on the cover of these coloring books and each horse was rearing. My father looked at the pictures and carved the two horses out of wood. Each horse was about 12 inches tall and rearing. He mounted them on a wooden base so it appeared that the two horses were fighting. It was just beautiful. He carved horse heads. Each head was about 8 inches tall. They were so realistic that they even had the blood vessels in the horses head. He knew animals intimately and he carved them accordingly. He was very, very good at it. Speaking of carving, it reminds me of another thing with my father and mother. I had cowboy heroes when I was a kid and one of them was Hopalong Cassidy. I just loved him. He was great. I also liked Roy Rogers. I wanted to 17 change my name to Roy once upon a time. Hopalong Cassidy was one of my heroes. I not only watched him in the movies, but I would buy the comic books whenever I could get my hands on one. It was rare that I got a comic book because my parents didn't have much money. One of the comic books that I did purchase showed Hopalong Cassidy being manipulated by the bad guys. The way they portrayed that manipulation was by attaching strings to his feet and hands to make him into a puppet. That was the picture on the cover of the comic book. So, I told Santa Claus I wanted a Hopalong Cassidy puppet. I must have been six or seven at the time because I still believed in Santa Claus. Obviously, a Hopalong Cassidy puppet did not exist, even though my mother searched high and low in the stores to find one. They didn't exist. So, my father took wood and carved this Hopalong Cassidy puppet. He carved the hand with the arm up to the elbow and he attached that to the upper part of the arm wrapping it with cloth so that there was a joint that allowed the arm to move. Then, he attached the arm to the shoulder with a cloth so it could also move. My mother sewed the clothes for the puppet. Hopalong Cassidy dressed in a black outfit, so she freehand sewed all of the clothes to dress the puppet in. Where they found them I don't know, but they also found little cowboy boots that they put on him, as well as a hat and pistols. I don't know where they found the pistols, but my father had to make the holsters for the pistols out of leather. They attached strings to it and I got a Hopalong Cassidy puppet for Christmas from Santa Claus. It was a prized possession. My mother says I put on a Hopalong Cassidy puppet show for my school class on one occasion. I don't recall that, but 18 she talked about it. At some point, the puppet lost its strings, but I still have the puppet. That is a prized possession that my parents made for me. ROH: What it must have been like to see that on Christmas morning. DA: I can't remember seeing it Christmas morning, but that puppet has been part of my life as far back as I can remember. My father was extremely talented at carving wood and did so until his mid to late 70's. At that age he developed an allergy to the sawdust in the wood, so he couldn't carve anymore. The last thing he carved was a covered wagon with eight horses pulling it, which I have in my house. It's a beautiful thing. After that, he decided to make bronzes. I have a good friend who is a professional artist who has made millions of dollars with his artwork. One day, I was going to have lunch with him and my dad asked me to ask him how to make a bronze sculpture. I did and my friend said, "Well, you make a skeleton out of wire or whatever and then you put the clay on it and once you put the clay on it you put it in the oven and bake it. When that is done, you take it to the foundry and it is cast by the foundry." That's as much as I told my father. He said, "Okay." He sat at the kitchen table with a pair of pliers, coat hangers, and a torch and he welded pieces of wire together to make a skeleton. Then, he used clay and made his figurines. He then put them in the oven and baked them before taking them to the foundry. He's done beautiful sculptures. His first sculpture is of two fighting elk. You may or may not have noticed in the foyer at Albion, there's an eagle perched on a limb. That's another one he made. This is all amateur, but they look 19 like professional pieces. He also created one of a cowboy that has roped a buffalo which resulted in the cowboy, horse, and the buffalo all being in trouble because they are all tangled together in the rope. Another one that I thoroughly enjoy is a pond with swans on the pond. It is a beautiful piece. ROH: How old was he when he started doing bronzes? DA: He was about 78. He died when he was 82. He would produce them and give them away. He could have made a living as an artist if he wanted to, but he didn't. He just did it as a hobby. ROH: Today is Monday, October 29, 2012, we are in the offices of Albion with DeWayne Ashmead and Rebecca Ory Hernandez from Weber State. When we were talking last week, you mentioned this really nice picturesque setting along the creek. DA: The Mill Creek. ROH: I wanted to pick up from where we left off there. DA: We moved to Kaysville to a rented home in 1955. I started the sixth grade at Kaysville Elementary School. It was interesting. I have thought about that several times and I don't know why one thing stands out in my mind. I had no friends until I went to school, so I was in the process of trying to make friends. We had our first recess and there were two boys in the class who were leaders. They were the top kids. I was a little skinny new kid on the block and when we went out for recess the boys all decided they wanted to play football. I had never played 20 football in my life. I didn't know how to play it or anything else, but one of these kids picked me to be on his team and that really made me feel good. He asked me what position I played and I said, "I don't know." He put me on the line and I promptly got knocked on my fanny the first time. I always respected that kid because he picked me and stood up for me at a time that I needed someone to do that. He didn't become a close friend, but throughout my junior high and high school days he was a kid that I looked up to. The sixth grade probably was a turning point in my life. My teacher was a man by the name of Elmer Wilcox, and he really liked science. He would take us on field trips. We went out to the Salt Lake and dug up crystals. He liked rocks so we collected rocks. He had a three stage microscope of his own that he brought to school to show us the invisible world. I became fascinated with that and for whatever reason, he took a liking to me and he would give me this microscope to take home on weekends. I was absolutely thrilled. I lugged this microscope in its wooden box home to look at things under the microscope. I studied all kinds of different things like water from the swamp or hair. I was just absolutely fascinated with it. Because of my interest, at Christmas my mother went to the University of Utah and purchased a three stage microscope from their surplus equipment. It was an old microscope, but it was still just like his as far as effectiveness was concerned. It was a professional microscope, not a toy. As the school year went on I became more and more interested in all of the aspects of science. I hadn't picked a single discipline. He fostered that and continued to encourage me in so many ways that he has always stood out in my 21 mind as one of the people who truly influenced me. When I entered the seventh grade, I went to Central Davis Junior high School in Layton. The science teacher at Central Davis at that point in time considered teaching science as just a job. He didn't really do much to encourage me or to help me with my scientific interests, but then my father started working with me. My father was deeply involved in the sciences and the fact that I was expressing interest in the same thing encouraged him to get involved with me. I wanted to enter a science fair in Utah and I decided that I would like to build a robot that was somewhat mobile that would speak through a record player by remote control. My father helped me build it and I won first place in the state. ROH: That sounds really ambitious for that age, how did you come up with that idea? DA: Actually, I read an article in Boy's Life scout magazine about a robot. It just intrigued me and I thought, "I want to do one like that." So, we did. In the eighth grade, I got more sophisticated and built a cloud chamber so I could see radiation particles from radium as they would go through an artificially created cloud. I won first place. I can't remember what I did in the ninth or tenth grade, but I won first place there. In the eleventh grade, I was working full-time at Albion while going to school full–time. I'll come back to that later. My father and I were collaborating on a drug to dissolve kidney stones and I had done a considerable amount of research on my own dissolving kidney stones in sheep. I presented my research on that and I won first place in the state and was subsequently sent to the national science fair with that research. Unfortunately, we drove to Seattle 22 where it was held and I had left part of my project at home and forgot it. The result was that I didn't do very well at nationals, but that's the way it goes. ROH: Did you participate in science fairs all the way through high school? DA: I did. I became known as, I guess in today's vernacular, a nerd. I was selected as the Sterling Scholar for science my senior year of high school in 1961-1962. I had a reputation for being quite intelligent and deeply involved in the sciences. Between Elmer Wilcox and my father, the two of them really fostered that love of science which continues to this day. ROH: Did you have any other friends that you would work on these projects together with? DA: I had friends, but none of these friends was as involved in the sciences as I. I didn't make friends easily. I was very shy and basically a loner. A lot of my research projects were too complex for kids to understand. They didn't see the value of them, so they would ignore me. ROH: Was that the end of your football career then? DA: In sixth grade? Absolutely. To this day, I really don't care for football. I shouldn't say that. I should say that I enjoy watching the game, but I am not passionate about it. ROH: It's really quite something to be that involved in science all through and it's no surprise then that you continued on into your career. You won lots of awards in high school and when you graduated as a senior, what did you do? 23 DA: I chased my girlfriend. ROH: You had a lot of girlfriends. DA: Well, I only had one that was important. That's the one I married. ROH: When did you meet Jill? DA: I met her as a junior in high school. We met in a history class because the teacher assigned us seats in history according to alphabetical order. I was the last "A" and she was the first "B" so she sat right behind me in history. She was a cute little girl, so I asked her for a date and she turned me down. I asked her for a second date and she turned me down. When I asked her a third time I figured, if she turns me down the third time I'll never ask her again. ROH: What were the dates? DA: I don't remember. I had a reputation of being a nonconformist in high school too. The fact that I'm science on the one side is one thing, but I went clear over on the other side because I was trying to fit in. I really didn't fit in anywhere in high school. She basically turned me down because of my reputation. The third time, she accepted. ROH: What reputation are we talking about? DA: I had the coolest car in school and I raced. I raced at the drag strips and I would race on the streets. You didn't ask me about that. ROH: Well, tell me about what you did for fun? 24 DA: I played with my car and still play with my cars. Finishing up with Jill though, the third time I asked her for a date she accepted and before we were out of our junior year in high school we wanted to get married. After that, we just continued to date through high school. I had several scholarships to various universities and she was going to go to Weber College, so I followed her to Weber rather than taking these other scholarships. Looking back, it was a good thing. ROH: So back to the car story. When did you get your license or were you driving before you got your license? DA: Oh yes. I started driving at about 13 or 14. I got my first car about a year before I got my license. I had a 1950 Mercury. I customized it, lowered it and put loud pipes on it. I got all sorts of tickets and generally not the same one twice. I raced that car. ROH: How did you buy your first car? DA: Actually, it was given to me. I got it from my parents. My parents bought this 1950 Mercury and had taken good care of it. It was really a good car and I probably destroyed it. I just thoroughly loved the car. I can remember one time, I wanted to leave high school early and the only way out at that time was through gates on the parking lot. They were locked during school hours so you couldn't leave school. On one of the exits there was a space between the pole that held the gate and another pole that was just wide enough to let the car slip through with about an inch or two on each side. My friend and I decided to leave school early one day by slipping through this space. That gate was between two 25 buildings. My car was so loud with the noise of the exhaust reverberating back and forth between these two buildings as we were trying to get out that it attracted everyone's attention. It brought every kid in the high school to the windows to watch us leave school. Shortly thereafter, they welded stakes perpendicular to the gate pole so I couldn't get out. I really liked the car. I liked cars because it gave me the freedom that I didn't have before. I went everywhere in that car. It was my whole life. I put over $1,000 into customizing the body, which in 1962 terms was a huge sum of money. I did a lot of the work myself and made a few mistakes, but I still enjoyed it. When I was a senior in high school in 1962, I decided I wanted a new car, so I went to the Oldsmobile dealer in Ogden and ordered a new car. I bought a 1962 Oldsmobile Cutlass in the last part of my senior year in high school. Jill and I dated in that car. Later, I sold it, but a few years ago when a car like it came up for sale I went and bought it just to try to recapture our youth. It didn't work, but Jill and I still enjoy putting the top down in that convertible and just driving. We still do it. Destroying the ozone layer is just a lot of fun because that's what we did when we were kids. We would drive up and down Washington Blvd and I would drag race anyone that wanted to drag race. I'd race on the streets and I would accelerate to about 80 miles an hour on Washington Blvd. ROH: Where on Washington Blvd.? DA: From stoplight to stoplight. Very rarely did I ever lose a race. I was a fast driver and had a reputation for always having a very fast car. 26 ROH: So that's why she was turning you down? DA: Yes. ROH: Are you still racing up and down Washington? Have I heard anything about you in the blotter? DA: No you have not. I haven't had a ticket for probably 25 years. ROH: Where do you ride now when you go for drives? DA: Generally on the back roads. The cars that I drive are very expensive and many of them are one of a kind, so people have a tendency to drive into me as they are looking at the car. So, I just avoid major highways and stay on the back roads where people don't see me. I drive for the sheer pleasure of driving and the experience of driving. With some of the cars you can put the top down and as you drive along you can smell the smells and hear the sounds and we just enjoy it. ROH: You loved science, cars and you obviously loved girls, one in particular. DA: That's right, one in particular. ROH: Jill is her nickname, so what was her maiden name? DA: Her real name is Eugele, which she hates and I love. I think it's a very pretty name. She was named for her uncle Eugene who was in the Second World War and not expected to come home. She was named Eugele Baird and nicknamed, Jill, which she prefers. 27 ROH: When did you and Jill get married? DA: That was in 1966. Probably didn't think I would remember that did you? ROH: I'm surprised you waited that long. DA: Well, you have to understand the dynamics. I followed her to Weber and we decided that we couldn't afford to get married and we should wait until both of us graduated from college. Jill was very religious, but I was not. She played better poker than I did. That's the way I describe it. She told me that she would not marry me unless we were married in the L.D.S. temple. I saw absolutely no reason to do that, but I would not be hypocritical about it and just go to the temple just to make her happy. We're all hypocrites, but for the most part I detest hypocrites. I started to study the Mormon Church to show her where she was wrong and why we didn't need to be married in the temple, and ultimately became converted myself. After I did that I went to her and said, "I think I need to go on an L.D.S. mission." She said, "Okay. You go and I'll wait." As luck would have it, I was called to go to France. The kids today go for 2 years and for part of that two year period they go into a very intensive training session where they learn the language. Back then, none of that training existed. If you went to a foreign country you went for two and a half years and the church figured it took you six months to learn the language and then you became effective. So, I went to France for two and a half years. ROH: What part of France? 28 DA: It was called the French Mission. I served in Paris, Bordeaux, Rennes, and Pau. Basically, the Western and Central part of France. ROH: That's pretty big territory. DA: Back then, there were only two missions in France. There was the French Mission and the French-East Mission. The French-East Mission covered Eastern France and the French speaking part of Switzerland. While I was there, they made the Franco-Belge Mission which was all of Belgium and the Northern part of France. Incidentally, that is where my youngest son went on his mission. I went to France for the two and half years and came home. I was determined to marry her as she was to marry me. Her parents didn't like the idea. They did everything they possibly could to persuade her to start dating boys while I was gone on my mission. She refused, and that created a lot of problems for her. She wrote me every day and would send the letter to me once a week. I would send her a letter every week. I would go without meals in order to save enough money so that by the time the two and a half years were over I had enough money to go to Belgium and buy a diamond ring for her. I designed it and purchased it. I came home in March of 1966. We were married in June and lived happily ever after. ROH: Where were you married? DA: We were married in the Salt Lake Temple, just like she said. It scared me to death. ROH: Did it? 29 DA: I was terrified. I tried to talk her out of it all the way to the temple. She wasn't about to listen to me. It was an off-handed way of talking her out of it, you know, "I'm too cool. I'm not going to back out," but I sure tried to talk her into backing out. I was terrified. I was also in a lot of pain. I had broken my foot the day before. ROH: How did you do that? DA: A plate glass mirror fell on it right across my foot and broke it. I refused to cast it because it would spoil her wedding pictures. So, I was in a lot of pain. ROH: Did you cast it after your wedding? DA: No. We left on our honeymoon and she did all the driving and I did all the moaning. ROH: Where did you honeymoon? DA: We went down to Bryce Canyon and I kind of hopped over the edge of the canyon and looked at it and said, "Okay, let's go." I was in too much pain, so we came home after a honeymoon for 3 days and I went back to work. ROH: All this time you were working for Albion, correct? DA: Yes. My father started Albion in 1956. He had previously been working for Pfizer and was in the line for the presidency of Pfizer. He was in senior management of Pfizer when he quit and came back to Utah where he started Albion. He had $250 and that's what he used to start Albion with. He had a concept that no one else had ever thought of and that was to sell veterinary pharmaceuticals to 30 farmers and ranchers. In 1956, if you had a sick animal, you would go to veterinarian and say, "Come look at my animal." He would look at it and you'd tell him what was wrong and then he'd sell you the drug at twice what he paid for it. What my father wanted to do while he was at Pfizer was to start selling these pharmaceuticals directly to the farmers and ranchers instead of going through the veterinarians. Pfizer refused to do that, so my father struck out on his own to show that it could be done. Well, the area that he envisioned was the Intermountain area in Utah, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, Arizona, and Nevada. He had to travel throughout that area calling on the farmers and ranchers because no one knew that such an outlet for veterinary drugs existed. He had a retail store between 24th and 25th Street on Grant Avenue in Ogden. It was ideally located because the drugs that he sold throughout the Intermountain area could be packaged at the store and then taken to the post office which was on the corner of 24th and Grant or to the bus depot which was on the corner of 25th and Grant. So the store was half a block either way. Because he was out selling, someone else had to package and ship these drugs. At the ripe old age of 12, I went to work. I took a commuter bus, which was the Lakeshore Bus Line that went between Salt lake and Ogden. I'd pick it up in Kaysville, ride the bus to Ogden to open up the store after school. I would take the orders my father had written, package them and take the packages to the post office or the bus. I'd close the store at about 7 or 8 at night, 31 get on the bus, go home, do my homework, and go to bed. From that point forward, I just worked there. When I was on my L.D.S. mission, my father wanted me to come back and join him full time at Albion when I completed my mission. I said, "No, I don't want to." We had a lot of negotiations by correspondence and ultimately I said, "Okay. I will come back, but I won't work for you. I will work with you, but I won't work for you. Furthermore, if I come back, I would expect you to sell me part of the company at fair market price because I would never want anyone to say you gave it to me. So, I'll buy it and if you'll meet those two conditions, I'll come back." He said, "Fine." So, I did and by the time I got home he had named me the Vice President of Albion which really sounded cool until you saw all the work I had to do. Shortly after returning, I married Jill and went back to school at Weber while still working full time. Prior to my mission I had majored in chemistry at Weber College. While I was on my mission, I realized that if I were a chemist I would have to work for someone else. But, if I were a businessman, I could hire all the chemists I wanted. So, I changed my major when I came back to Weber and majored in business. I concurrently worked full-time at Albion and traveled extensively which made it very difficult to go to school. My father and I divided the responsibilities. He took production and R & D and I took marketing and administration. Part of my job was taking Albion from a small regional company to a national and then international company, which I did while I was still going to school at Weber. 32 ROH: How long did it take you to go national and then international? DA: Relatively quickly, probably a year or two. I was traveling a lot. I remember one convention that I went to that happened to be in Colorado that still stands out in my mind. I flew into Denver and arrived in the early evening concurrently with a blizzard that hit Denver. I had to go up to Ft. Collins, Colorado, so I rented a car. That was a terrifying ride on the freeway because the road was all snowed in. I arrived there late at night. The next morning I got up and went to work. I spent all day on the convention floor assisting one of my customers. That night, the customer wanted to go out to dinner and invited me to go with the employees. I told them I couldn't go to dinner and went back to my hotel room to study for a test that I had to take the next day when I got back to Utah. It was hard, but it was okay. Jill was working at Red Cross, but then she had the audacity to get pregnant on our honeymoon and nine months later our son came. She was awfully sick during her pregnancy so she quit and the responsibility of taking care of my wife and my soon-to-be baby was mine in addition to going to school. After he was born, she would come over to the college at noon and bring me a sandwich that I would eat as we walked back to the apartment where I'd get in the car and head off to work. I'd work until 8 or 9 at night and come home. I was still an undergrad. So, I did that and graduated from Weber. ROH: What year did you graduate from Weber? 33 DA: I think it was 1969. I went on and got a doctorate from Pacific Institute that was chartered by the state of California to give doctorates for research. It was not an academic degree, it was a research degree. I got that and later I went back and got an academic Ph.D in nutrition from Donsbach University in California. They wanted me to attend classes there and I just didn't have the time. I negotiated a deal with them that as long as I could pass the tests, I wouldn't have to go to class. Although everything was done by mail back then, the experience was much like doing coursework online today. I suppose in some ways I was a pioneer in doing online education. I graduated with a 4.0 from Donsbach and just continued on. ROH: You never got a master's? DA: I never got a master's. I have often wanted an M.B.A., but I'm too old and I don't have the patience. I don't need it, but I would like one. The biggest thing is that I don't have the patience. I can remember even in my undergrad taking a class in advertising and the professor wanted us to advertise an imaginary product. At the time, I had started a small advertising agency while working at Albion. I don't sleep much. Anyway, I had developed a campaign for a product. I developed the whole campaign, so it was not cheating. I had done absolutely everything. I didn't have the time to do busy work on an imaginary product, so, I took what I had done and presented it to the class. It violated some of the principles he taught. He got his master's degree at the University of Utah and drove 40 miles to Weber where he spent the rest of his life. He never had any practical experience in advertising. He started criticizing me in front of the class and I remember that I 34 lost my temper. I told him that he didn't know his fanny from a hole in the ground and I laid out what this advertising campaign had done for the company. Well, he was embarrassed and angry and he gave me a "C". I deserved an "A" but he gave me a "C". He never forgot or forgave me. He had a reputation for pulling kids out of the line as they were graduating and would say, "You can't graduate." I don't know whether that was true or not, but I believed it. When I was graduating I took my cap and partially covered my face before turning my head so he couldn't see me as I marched by. I was afraid he'd pull me out of line. He also became my major professor and made me jump through hoops to graduate. It was just a miserable time. The only consolation was that after I graduated, Weber offered me a job to replace him when he died. I didn't take it, but they did offer it to me. In my senior year, I joined a business fraternity because I was led to believe that it was where you would make contacts and that would be good for business. It isn't, but I was led to believe that. On one occasion they had arranged for us to go to a bank to tour the building and interview the vice president. We went down to what was then Commercial Security Bank on 25th and Washington in Ogden. I can still remember talking to the vice president. One of the kids had the audacity to ask, "How much do you earn as a vice president of the bank?" He puffed up and said, "I earn 450 dollars a month." I said, "Well, I earn more than that as a student, why would I want to be a banker." He looked at me and said, "Well, we get to play a lot of golf." I've never learned how to play golf, so I missed out on that opportunity. 35 One last thing on Donsbach University I ought to mention. About 1980, when four of my kids were in school, they were complaining about school work and saying that I didn't understand what it was like to go to school now because I went back in the olden days. More than anything else, that is what pushed me to attend Donsbach. I wanted to prove a point to them. I enrolled and I graduated one year later with a 4.0. I would come home from work and take care of my fatherly duties until about 9:00 p.m. I would study from 9:00 p.m. to usually 1:00 a.m. I would get up at 6:00 a.m. and would study again until it was time to go to work, work all day and repeat that whole thing. As I said, I graduated with a 4.0, wrote my thesis and got that approved and everything within that one year. The only time I went to California as it related to Donsbach was to get my diploma when I marched through at commencement. My kids came with Jill and me to commencement and after I got my degree, I turned to my kids and said, "Don't you ever tell me that I don't know what it's like." After that there was never ever a discussion about going to school or anything else and all of my kids have graduate degrees. ROH: Tell me about your kids. How many children do you have? DA: Five or six depending on how you count it. That always bothers a lot of people when I say that. I count it as six, but I have five kids. The sixth kid—a Navajo woman gave me her daughter and said, "She's yours, you raise her." I raised her as my own. I never formally adopted her, but I raised her, educated her and sent her to college. She still calls Jill and me "Mom" and "Dad" and her kids call us 36 "Grandma" and "Grandpa." As far as I'm concerned, she is a daughter. My blood kids all accept her as a sister. She's just one of us. ROH: What is her name? DA: Her name is Laurice. My first child was Stephen, who came about nine months after we were married. My next child was Jilane. She got her name while I was still on my mission. Jill and some of her girlfriends were composing names for their future children at one of her parties and she composed a combination of Jill and DeWayne. She wrote me and told me that her first daughter was going to be named Jilane. Next was Brett. Then came Angelique Racquelle—very French. My last was Heidi. ROH: Are any of them working in the business? DA: Three of them are. All of them have worked here. By the time my kids turned 12 or 14 at the latest, they had to go to work. They had to pick and choose what school activities they were going to participate in because they had to work. By the time they were sixteen they had to buy all of their own clothes. At 14, they would be preparing the meals and helping work around the house. Besides working, they had to work around the house and do yard work, but they didn't get paid for it. For better or for worse, none of my kids ever got into trouble. They were too busy working and doing other things. They never got into drugs or anything. All of them are workaholics and every one of them has risen to the top of his or her profession. All of them have had the opportunity to work at Albion and three of them elected to stay. Stephen joined Albion full-time while he was 37 married and a student. Angelique joined Albion after she got her master's degree and became a CPA. She was recruited extensively by most of the national CPA firms in Utah. She was an outstanding student. She chose to come to Albion although I did not have anything to do with it. Albion had to compete with the CPA firms to get her. Brett got his MBA and joined Albion after that. Jilane is the head of the English department at a junior high school and also teaches. Heidi teaches creative writing at a high school as well as having started her own business. ROH: You have quite a large family now. Did they get to earn allowances when they were younger? DA: No. Working around the house is what they owed me for giving them life. After I got married, I hit the road and was gone probably 60 percent of the time or more. On one occasion, I wanted to put in a spur on my sprinkling system and Stephen had helped me repair our sprinkling system in the past. He was about 13 or 14 at the time. I told him, "I want you to run a spur off there. I'll be gone on a trip so you just do it." He did and it worked very well. I still use it today. Another occasion, I told him to run a spur off in another area which had to go underneath the sidewalk. I didn't tell him how to get underneath the sidewalk, which was my mistake. So, he took a sledge hammer and broke the sidewalk to put the spur in and we had to pour cement and redo the sidewalk. They were expected to work and work hard and they did. When they were out working, they worked as adults—period. I worked with them whenever I 38 could, but the money that they received is what they earned from their employment. They had to learn how to budget it. I did one thing when they turned 16, I gave each of them a credit card and warned them about getting into trouble with it. Everyone did and every one of them went through the pain and misery of having to pay it off because I wouldn't pay their debts. It taught them the use of credit as well. I remember my oldest son, Stephen, still had a debt and he wanted to go on an LDS mission. I wouldn't pay his credit card off, so he had to stay home for several months to earn enough money to pay off his debt before he could go. ROH: Did all of the kids go on missions? DA: No, just my two boys. ROH: Did they go to France as well? DA: Brett went to France and Stephen went to Arizona. His Arizona mission was Spanish-speaking so he had to learn Spanish. He had to speak completely in Spanish all the time. ROH: What part of Arizona? DA: It would have been the Southern part. Tempe was the mission headquarters, but he spent most of his time in the South dealing mostly with illegal aliens. ROH: Is there anything else you'd like to add about your kids? 39 DA: I'm proud of every one of them. They're all good kids. They married well and everyone is a productive member of society contributing to the betterment of society. I'm proud of them. They are just good kids. ROH: Can you tell me a little bit more about this daughter you raised from this Native American woman? How did that come about? DA: The Mormon church had a program in the earlier days called the Indian Placement Program where they would bring kids off the reservation, house them with Caucasians, and let them go to school in a better environment. The church was in hopes of bringing them out of poverty, alcoholism and things that are associated with the reservations. Laurice started in that direction with someone else. She was not doing well in the school program and was a "D" and "F" student. She was basically dropping out of the program and they talked her into coming back. I was just asked to take her because she was failing. I said, "Fine." I treated her just like one of my kids, my oldest daughter had moved out so Laurice had a bedroom to herself. Angelique was older than she and Heidi was younger than she and both were straight "A" students. One pulled and the other pushed Laurice. She went from "D's" and "F's" to straight "A's." When she graduated, she wanted to go back to the reservation. Her ambition was to get a couple of horses and ride them on the reservation. I said, "There's no way in the world I'm going to let you do that. You've got too much potential and you cannot do that." She said, "Well, this program is over." I said, "I know, but there's still no way I'm going to let you do that." Her mother had come 40 up to her high school graduation and she could not speak English, had no electricity in her Hogan and had no running water, yet she gave this girl a computer for graduation and gave her to me at the same time. She said, "Keep her." So I did. I sent her to Weber. In fact, the future president of Weber, Ann Milner, pulled strings to get her in because while she received "A's" while she was with us, there were "D's" and "F's" from before so she was not really a good candidate as far as the university was concerned. Ann pulled strings for me at my request. Laurice earned "A's" at Weber too. Ultimately, she married and has remained here in Utah. She's a good kid. She's got two kids that are straight "A" students too. In fact, I just got an email from her this weekend telling me about what was happening with her kids. ROH: How old are her kids now? DA: They're in junior high and high school. ROH: You raised wonderful children and some of them work here. I find it interesting that the other two work in English related fields similar to your mother. DA: Well, blame it on my grandfather. One of my grandfathers had an eighth grade education. The other graduated from the University of Utah and spoke Latin fluently. Both were farmers, but my grandfather that graduated from the University of Utah had the uncomfortable habit of correcting everyone's English. In fact, my father remarked that it got to a point with him that he refused to speak around my grandfather because his grammar was so atrocious. My grandfather passed his habit on to my mother and she was a stickler for grammar. She 41 passed it on to me and I passed it on to all of my kids. I don't correct people like my grandfather did, but I would correct my children and I expected them to speak properly. I also passed on to them a love for books. I've got a room that is probably about a third the size of this office that is a formal library with bookcases that are perpendicular to the wall going floor to ceiling. I have thousands and thousands of books in there and I encouraged my children to read and to read the classics. We would talk about them and they love books. All of my kids are voracious readers and whenever I had the time and was in town, I would correct my children's written compositions when they were in school. I even did it when they went to college. Speaking correctly is important and they passed it on. It was my grandfather's fault. ROH: What was your grandfather's name? DA: Rupert Morrill. ROH: Today is November 26, 2012, we are picking up oral history with DeWayne Ashmead in his office with Rebecca Ory Hernandez. DeWayne, you were getting ready to tell me about a funny story. DA: In the early 1970's, we needed to establish some of our products nationwide. I went out and lectured and worked with a customer and his customers for about six months. I would leave on Sunday and come back on Saturday and turn around and do it again for about six months straight. I just worked very hard. One of the companies I was working for was in the Midwest. On one occasion, I flew 42 into Chicago and a company man picked me up in the middle of a terrible snow storm. In the Midwest, the snow drifts. We went to one place where I was scheduled to speak that had 250 people committed and not one person showed up. So, we went to the next town where we were going to do this again, but on the way we were going down the road and the snow drifted. It was 10 or 12 feet high on one side of the road and the department of transportation had only cleaned off one lane. We were going down this lane and a Volkswagen came toward us. The guy I was with wouldn't slow down. I said, "Buck, you need to slow down." He said, "No, it's my road." At the last minute, the driver in the Volkswagen realized he was not going to move off the road and the Volkswagen dove for the snow drift and was just buried. I said, "Buck, you've got to stop and help." He said, "Hell no, he was in my side." So, he kept right on going. I couldn't get him to stop. We got to a Holiday Inn that evening and there were so many travelers stranded that everyone was required to share a room with someone else. I was the only person in the entire hotel that had a room to myself. It was so bitterly cold that I turned the heater up in the room as high as it would go and took all the blankets off the other bed and put them on my blanket and it was still freezing. The next morning, I got up and snow had drifted underneath the door about two feet into the room. It was so cold it had broken all the pipes so there was no hot water. We turned around and went right back to Chicago and everyone went home. That was one of the 1970's storms. In spite of the storm, this form of promotion and speaking was a good experience. In six months, we went from 43 zero to $3 million in sales with only one product. It was an iron product for pigs. I can tell you all about pigs. I know a lot about them. I like to work with pigs in research. They are very similar to human beings. They have the same metabolism, so if it works on a pig it will work on a human or vice versa. I applied a lot of what I learned with pigs to human beings as we developed nutritional programs for humans. ROH: Tell me a little bit about the company and the kinds of product that you offer. DA: The company grew and as it did we started manufacturing vitamin and mineral supplements for animals. Ultimately, it became the largest manufacturer of vitamin and mineral supplements in the United States. We were manufacturing for lots of different companies, but never under the Albion name. Instead, the products went private label for other companies. Albion also started manufacturing veterinary pharmaceuticals and became the largest manufacturer of veterinary pharmaceuticals west of the Mississippi. All of these things were very price-sensitive and we were looking for other things to do that were less price-sensitive. One of the things we did that I got involved in at the age of 16 or 17, was help develop a drug that dissolved kidney stones. We got a patent on it and my father is named in the patent. I'm not named in the patent, but I did a lot of the research primarily with sheep. We got Food and Drug Administration approval to market this product in certain species of animals and it was a very successful product. It really started to make Albion. The drug operated due to the principle of 44 chelation, which is a chemical term describing how a chelating agent will grab a mineral and hold that mineral. In the case of this drug, it would hold the mineral so tightly in the urine that the mineral could not combine with other substances to form a stone. The animal would then eliminate the mineral as a chelate in the urine as it voided its bladder. We did a lot of research with humans as well, but never got an FDA approval for human use. We became experts in the science of chelation. Along the way, we noticed that the animals were not efficiently absorbing the minerals that were being provided in these vitamin and mineral supplements that the company was also making. We could pick up those same minerals in the manure. So the question was: why aren't the animals absorbing these minerals? Albion has always had the reputation for high quality, so we wanted minerals that would absorb. We learned that for the animal to absorb a mineral, such as iron sulfate, it had to take the iron and tear it away from the sulfate. The iron then had to be chelated by amino acids that came from the digested protein in the food. The amino acids would bind the minerals and basically form an organic molecule, which the animal could then absorb. If you look in your body or the animal's body, there are no inorganic minerals other that in the bones and teeth. They're all organic molecules. When we discovered that the animals had to create these organic mineral molecules in their stomachs and intestines, we said, "Well, why don't we pre-chelate them?" No one knew how to do that, so it took a lot of research. I was deeply involved in doing the research and we developed minerals that were 45 bound to these amino acids as chelates prior to ingestion. We were awarded patents on them. Today, we have about 150 patents on this type of product. When we gave these amino acids to the animals, we expected to see greater absorption. We were surprised when the performance of the animal also changed. They grew faster, had better feed conversion, less morbidity, less mortality and better reproduction efficacy. We suddenly discovered that we had opened a whole new area of nutrition. Over time, we eliminated the veterinary supply business at Albion, eliminated the vitamin and mineral supplement division, got rid of the pharmaceutical production and focused exclusively on production of amino acid chelates. We introduced these amino acid chelates to the human nutrition market in about 1968. By 1970, it was pretty much established. The animal nutrition market was before that in the earlier 1960's. That business was what I was trying to establish when I was traveling early on in my career. In 1975, we entered the agricultural market and started selling amino acid chelates for plant use. So, it was plants, animals, and man. We built on all three fronts and it was difficult because we didn't have sufficient money. My father was a product of the depression and he did not like borrowing money. He did, but it was hard for him to borrow money. Consequently, we built the whole the thing out of our profits. We still do that for the most part today. We can borrow millions and millions of dollars, but I refuse to let the company do it. We're qualified, the banks say we can borrow all the money we want, but we just don't. We paved the way in human nutrition. I remember in the 1970's the FDA decided that the amino 46 acid chelates were a new product class that was not approved, so they started seizing products made by other companies that were trying to copy Albion. No one made them the way Albion did, but that's been the marketing program for competitors from the very beginning, "We're just like Albion, but cheaper." Anyway, the FDA seized those products from the other company and we could see the writing on the wall that eventually they would get around to Albion. We decided to be proactive and sue the FDA in federal court. We said, "Our chelates are safe and effective. You prove they aren't." The FDA looked at our data and signed a consent decree saying they agreed that Albion products are safe and effective. We became the only chelated product that was approved by FDA to be on the market. It made sense to sue the FDA at the time, because if we had gone the traditional route the FDA could take 180 days to look at something and they could ask a question which we would answer. Then it was another 180 days. They could delay approval for years and in the meantime, we would have been out of business. By suing them in federal court, we forced them to look at our data immediately and make a decision immediately because it's in the court. Today, we still continue to focus on these amino acid chelates. During the recession of 2008, we sold the animal division. It was a hard thing to do emotionally, but it was the right thing to do business-wise. So, we sold it to another company, but we still manufacture the chelates for them. We're still in the business, but not under the Albion label. That's gone, but we still do the human and plant products under the Albion label. ROH: Tell me about how you've impacted the agricultural system internationally. 47 DA: Going to business school, I learned that the worst recession to occur since the great depression in 1956 was the year Albion started. When I learned about that I went to my dad and said, "Why did you start a company in the middle of the worst recession since the great depression?" He looked at me and said, "Recession? I didn't know there was a recession, I just knew it was damn tough." That was always my father's attitude, just plow ahead and forget all the problems or the reasons why you can't do something. Just go do it. We continue to do that today to a degree. Anyway, I took the marketing side of it and I went across the United States and built a national chain of outlets for the human and for the animal divisions. If you remind me I'll come back to the human, we did something that I think was quite clever. I started looking internationally and I started going to Europe first with the animal products for some countries followed by the human products. We started getting customers, suppliers and building up the business. One of the biggest ways to sell a product was to stand up in front of a group of people and tell them why these products were good and let them take shots at you. The scientists would and I would answer their questions and convince them. We went throughout all of Europe and established markets there. I spent a lot of time in Europe which is one of the reasons why I don't particularly care whether I go back now or not. I've seen all of Europe that I want to see. We did that and it was primarily building up the animal and human sales. I established human sales in South America using Brazil as my center of influence and in Central America using Guatemala as my center of influence and spreading out. 48 ROH: Is there a reason for those particular countries? DA: At the time, Brazil was the very best country for economic development of any country in South America. Even to his day, Brazil, Argentina and Chile are really the best countries in South America. They've got stable governments now and economically they're in pretty good shape. One of the things I refuse to do is deal in other currencies. I deal in U.S. dollars. A lot of these countries don't have the dollars. I never was able to truly establish the animal business in Central or South America primarily because they fed their animals differently than what we did in Europe or in the United States. Most of the animals are grass fed, not supplement fed and Albion products go into supplements. So, that didn't work very well, but we established our agricultural division with our chelates for plant use in South America and Central America and it has grown extensively there. At one time, I knew more presidents of countries on a personal level than did the president of the United States. I would be at their homes. For example, one of the presidents of Panama, President Royo, would invite me to his home and he and I would play baseball with his son and my son out on his front lawn. This is the man that Noriega put a gun to his head and said, "I'll give you one of two choices. Either you resign or I pull the trigger. Which do you want?" One of my other friends was President Anwar Sadat. We started to develop the agricultural area in Egypt. When Jimmy Carter was president he brokered the peace accord between Israel and Egypt. Anwar Sadat had promised his people that if he could get peace with Israel, he would take some of the money that he had been spending on defending the border between Israel and Egypt, and grow 49 food for the Egyptians. Well, they got the peace, so he called me and a few others to come to Egypt and help him set up agricultural programs that would fulfill his promise. I went to Egypt to meet with him and did surveys in Egypt to determine what needed to be done. He wanted to put American technology to work in Egypt, so I said, "What I'm going to tell you, I'm philosophically opposed to, but it's the only way you can do it." In Egypt, the father would divide his farm between the sons, who would divide the farm between their sons. The average Egyptian farm is one quarter acre in size. I said, "You need to go into a village and say, "Okay, all of you are going to grow cotton." Go to the next one and say, "All of you are going to grow beans." You will have to dictate what they do and then you can bring the American technology and the large equipment into Egypt in order to get your economies in scale. Unless you do that, there's no way that you can do it and bring American technology in." He agreed with me and started to set up the programs I had outlined before he was assassinated. Mubarak didn't care about his people the way Sadat did. He hadn't made the promise and he wasn't about to spend money on something like that, so he shut the project down. On one occasion, I told Mubarak that I could eradicate iron deficiency and anemia, which was the single biggest disease in Egypt. I even offered to guarantee in writing that I would eradicate it and it would cost him 34 cents per person per year. He said, "No, that's too much money, we don't care." So, it didn't happen. From that we expanded into the Middle East and had offices in Beirut and worked in Saudi Arabia, the Emirates, Egypt, Morocco, and Lebanon. 50 ROH: Is this mostly animal? DA: This was the agricultural, plant division. It was growing bit by bit. One story I was going to tell you—a human story. Originally, when I set up the human business in the United States, it was through distributors. We would manufacture the chelates for nutritional companies and they would put their labels on our products and offer them for sale, but they wouldn't really go out and promote the products. They would offer them for sale as part of their entire product line. If the store wanted our products they would order them. The stores didn't purchase our products very often because they didn't know anything about them. I needed to go out and promote the chelates, but I didn't have any money to do it. I started another company called Rhondell, which was a division of Albion, but on the surface it looked like it was a separate company. It sold nothing but chelates to the customers of our customers. In other words, it was a competitor to our customers. Its mandate was to go out and sell these chelates and break even. I didn't care if Rhondell didn't make profit. They wanted to sell them at a lesser price than their competitors, but I didn't let them. They were always more expensive than the competition, but they sold chelates, talked about the chelates and advertised the chelates. Suddenly, the entire nutrition industry in the United States was abuzz with chelates. They'd come to Albion and say they want amino acid chelates that could compete with this Rhondell Company. We established the amino acid chelates in the in the marketplace and after they were established and everyone knew about them, I killed Rhondell. It never cost me anything to introduce and promote the products. 51 ROH: If one would have heard about chelation of blood for example, is that the same product? DA: No. There is a process called chelation therapy and I think that's what you're referring to. Chelation therapy is taking a synthetic chelate like EDTA, Ethylenediaminetetraacetic acid, and injecting it into the blood stream. The theory is that if you have atherosclerosis or arteriosclerosis you have formed a calcium deposit in the blood vessels. The EDTA would come in and chelate the calcium in the blood and hold it so tightly that the body couldn't tear it away. The EDTA, being foreign to the body, would then be dumped into the urine and take the calcium with it. However, EDTA doesn't know the difference between calcium, iron, zinc, magnesium, etc., so it would chelate all of them. This could cause health problems. I was very critical of this except when it was done in a hospital. A lot of doctors were just doing Chelation Therapy in their offices and there were several people that died as a result. In fact, the pioneer of chelation therapy, Rudolf Alslaben, who was an acquaintance of mine, lost his license to practice medicine because he accidently killed a person with EDTA injections. Chelation Therapy was originally used for lead poisoning and done in the hospital. It's still done in the hospital for lead poisoning, but it can be very dangerous for treatment of atherosclerosis or arteriosclerosis. That type of chelation therapy is to get rid of minerals from the body. What Albion is doing is trying to get minerals into the body. 52 ROH: Tell me a little bit about your company today. What is the focus? DA: I guess today you'd have to ask others what they see. I'm a has-been. Today, the company is growing very rapidly. We have plans in place to expand the sales significantly in the days to come. I still hold the position of president and chairman of the board, but I am really not much involved in the day-to-day activities. We've got a good management team in place. They are working hard and are much younger than I am and have more energy. They're smart so they do it. My oldest son, Stephen, is involved. He is the heir apparent. My daughter Angelique is involved. She is the CPA and has a master's degree in accounting as well as a master's degree in computer science. She is a candidate for the CFO. My other son is over purchasing internationally, and has just been promoted to the chief operations officer for the company. These are Board appointments. I didn't have anything to do with them. We have outside people as well. We've got outside attorneys and the chief executive officer is not a family member. It makes a good team and they are all working hard. They do a good job, so I just let them go. ROH: Will the focus remain as you intended? DA: No, the focus doesn't remain as I intended because the situation changes and if I were to continue to go exactly the way I saw it ten years ago, we'd be out of business. We have to adapt. For example, I did not like the idea of selling the animal division. That pulled on my heartstrings because that's where Albion started. I worked hard to develop that business. If I had followed my emotions, 53 we would have never gotten rid of the animal division, but it was still the right thing to do. It was advocated initially by the CEO, Jim Hyde, as the right thing to do and as I analyzed his rationale. I agreed with him, but I didn't like it. So, in the future will we be exactly the same as we are today? No. We'll still adapt, modify and grow. We plan to be around another 50 years. ROH: The company is just one of these little secrets that we have here in our neighborhood. DA: Well, it is because our market is not in Utah. We live in Utah because we want to be in Utah. My kids had no idea who I really was or that I could walk into Anwar Sadat's home and be his friend, or walk into other famous people's homes and call on people around the world. They had no idea that outside of Utah I was quite famous. That was on purpose. I just wanted them to think of me as "Dad" and they did. Outside of Utah we are better known. ROH: How do you want to be remembered? DA: I don't care if I am. There are those that want to have buildings named after them and institutions named after them. I don't care about that. I really don't. I want my children to remember me and my grandchildren to remember me for what I stood for, what I was, and who I was and not what I've accomplished in a material sense. ROH: You're a very giving person, so I don't know if you're willing to talk about this on the record or not, but you've made some significant contributions to a lot of 54 different groups in the community, so tell me a little bit about your involvement with giving to Weber State. DA: As I told you earlier, I was working full-time and going to school full-time. For several years after I graduated I didn't have anything to do with Weber. I wasn't unhappy with Weber. I got a good education. I just didn't have anything to do with Weber. Then, Paul Thompson became president of Weber and had a focus that was different than previous presidents. I knew the previous presidents and still do and we visit from time to time. Anyway, Paul Thompson came into my office and talked with me about Weber and kind of sucked me in. I started paying attention to Weber and Paul asked me to be on the National Advisory Council, and that went on for a while. One day, Paul made a presentation at Weber about single parents that were struggling to get through school and how difficult it was. It really touched me, so Jill and I talked about it and we decided that we would start helping these single parents. We didn't care what their majors were or what the sex was, we would just help them. We started doing that and it just grew from there. ROH: You've served on lots of other boards as well, I'm sure. DA: I was asked to serve on the advisory board for the Goddard School of Business and Economics and I did that for several years. Ann Milner asked me to serve on the advisory council for the Health Professions, so I did that and continue to do that. They're trying to decide what they're going to be when they grow up and are having a hard time right now defining their objectives. That's not going very well 55 right now. The Arts & Humanities are talking to me about serving on that board. I haven't said yes, but I haven't said no we are just talking. I do that in addition to the National Advisory Council. I also serve on a board at the University of Utah, the board of the McKay Dee Hospital and the board of the YMCA. That is in addition to the boards of Albion. I also serve in a leadership position in my church. ROH: You've lectured I'm sure. DA: I have taught a few classes at Weber in business as well as the health sciences. I've done the same thing at the University of Utah and sit on a couple of advisory boards there too, but my heart really is with Weber. So, we just continue to go forward. ROH: You're being very modest. You also received an honorary doctorate degree from Weber. DA: Yes I did. ROH: What was that process like? DA: Well, you have to be nominated by someone else. I was nominated by someone, but I really don't know who. Carol Bittle came to me and said, "We need to put together a CV." So I helped her put it together and she submitted it to the selection committee and they said, "There's no way we're going to give him anything." Actually, they did turn it down. They didn't like what she had done, so she came back a second time and said, "We need to improve this." So, I did what 56 she asked and she re-submitted it and they selected me for an honorary doctorate. It's really significant from several points of view. My mother was still alive at the time and it really touched her and was really important to her. My mother had a doctorate from the University of Utah and my late father also had a doctorate. I had a doctorate from another institution, but this meant a lot to her to be honored that way. There was one other honor that I received that meant a lot to her and it was gratifying to receive. I was recognized as entrepreneur of the year by Ernest and Young. ROH: That's significant, DeWayne. DA: You think so? It was kind of neat. They came in and did a lot of interviewing and taping of the interviews with me and others that were being nominated. We went to a banquet and no one knew who was going to be honored. I really didn't want to go, but I went and I was awarded the recognition. ROH: Congratulations. DA: Thank you. ROH: Are there any other significant accomplishments connected to the company that you might want to mention? DA: I suppose one thing that is important is that I've authored eleven technical books on chelation. Some of them have been used as university textbooks. The most recent was published this year, 2012. It is a very defining book. It describes how a chelated mineral is absorbed into the intestinal cell, then into the bloodstream 57 and from the bloodstream into the cells of the body. I have been told that the research is Nobel Prize winning material. ROH: What's the title of the book? DA: It's called, Chelated Mineral Nutrition in Animals and Humans. ROH: Who is the publisher? DA: CRC Press, which is one of the major scientific presses in the United States. That made me feel good. I don't think there's another book in me like that. ROH: You don't think so? DA: Not like that. ROH: Except for the one you're writing about your father. DA: Well, that's a little different. When I started to write the last book on chelates, I got it about half done and had to go in for open heart surgery to correct a congenital problem. I thought, "Well, when I come out of surgery I'll be recovering for a while and I'll finish the book." I found that I couldn't even think for months. So, the book sat unfinished and when I picked it up to finish it, I couldn't remember what I had written so I had to start all over again and rewrite the book. So, it was about a three year process. The book went through about 23 drafts before I was satisfied with what it said. ROH: Goodness. DA: I then submitted it to the publisher. 58 ROH: So, you didn't mention the heart business earlier on, did you use any of your nutritional technology in recovering from your heart surgery? When did that happen? DA: Three or four years ago. I've known about this congenital defect, my valve would not close. When they got into my heart they also found that I had a hole in my heart that was congenital. The valve wouldn't close which on one hand was pretty good because it kept me out of Vietnam. I never wanted to go to Vietnam. It didn't really bother me, but for several years I was consulting a cardiologist just watching it because as I got older I recognized that this problem was going to manifest itself more and more. On one occasion, in the summer, we were doing a Concore d'Elegance— a car show where we brought cars in from all over the United States. I was involved in the management of this show and people that were on the organizing committee kept dropping balls and I kept picking them up. Pretty soon, I was juggling all the balls. By the time the show occurred in August of that year, I was absolutely exhausted. After the show was over, my wife and I decided to go on this little vacation and when we got to Colorado in the high country I couldn't breathe. She wanted to put me in a hospital and I refused to go to the hospital. I sit on the board of a hospital, I know what hospitals are like. We came back to Utah and I went to see the cardiologist. He said, "It's time." So, I went in for surgery. The cardiologist as well as the heart surgeon said, "Other than the fact that you have the congenital problems, you're really as healthy as anyone I've ever operated on. However, this is pretty serious business." The cardiologist told 59 me that I had less than a 50 percent chance of living through the surgery. The surgeon said, "I'm going to guarantee that you'll wake up, I just won't guarantee where. So, get all of your "T's" crossed, "I's" dotted and take care of all of your personal affairs because you may not make it." I did and went in for surgery and I did just about die. I was within two or three minutes of dying. They missed a bleeder and I about bled to death. They went through five or six pints of blood. ROH: Where did you have the surgery done? DA: McKay-Dee Hospital. North of Salt Lake, McKay-Dee is probably one of the best heart hospitals in the state. There are probably surgeons as good in Salt Lake, but I had a personal relationship with the ones at McKay-Dee and they were good too. They are nationally recognized, so it was okay. ROH: How are you feeling now? DA: Ornery. ROH: Good, you're back to your old self. DA: There you go. I feel fine. ROH: It must have scared your family though, and your business colleagues as well. DA: I think it probably did. They watched over me pretty carefully. My son wouldn't let anyone come in to see me. People from work would try to come and see me and he'd stand guard and just wouldn't let them come in. It was touch and go for a while. 60 ROH: You're doing great now, so what are your plans for the future? DA: Just more of the same. I have no intention of retiring. I like to work. If I were to retire, what would I do? I don't really have anything I want to do full-time other than work. As I said, I sit on the board of University of Utah, Weber, the hospital, and the YMCA. I'm happy doing what I'm doing. ROH: We talked a little bit about that last time. How many cars do you have now? DA: I don't know. See, if I don't know then I can honestly say in front of my wife, "I don't know." ROH: Is it more than 50? DA: More than 50. ROH: Should I stop there? DA: Probably. It's approximately 60 cars, but I really don't know. ROH: What is your favorite? DA: I don't have a favorite. That's like asking, "Who's your favorite kid?" The cars are primarily sports cars and performance cars. I have three criteria for a car. One, it's got to be a sports car, but I can make anything into a sports car. I can rationalize lots of things. For example, I have a 1966 Pontiac GTO and this Pontiac GTO raced the Ferrari GTO and beat it. If the Ferrari is a sports car, then the Pontiac must be a sports car because it beat the Ferrari. I rationalize it. Then, 61 it has to be rare or unique. I have a lot of cars that are the only one ever built. Third, I just have to like it. ROH: You love sports cars and you love art. Do you have any other hobbies? DA: Well you said, "Anything else?" I was going to say, "I love my wife." ROH: Of course, we know you love your wife and your family and your company. DA: I like genealogy. I do genealogical research. I wrote a book about my family tracing the Ashmead's back to 1530 up to 1968 which was the death of my grandfather. My father asked me not to write about him while he was alive, so I respected that and now I'm doing it. That book was published. My manuscript was about 1,600 pages and I had to go to a professional editor and have the editor pare it down to about 1,100 pages. I couldn't do it because everything I said was important, so the editor had to determine what was not important enough to put in the book. I published that, which was kind of a fun thing. It's in most genealogical libraries and major historical collections. ROH: We know you've met lots of important people throughout your life as well. Is there any particular meeting with a head of state or anyone in general that stands out in your mind? DA: There were three most significant events in my lifetime as far as I'm concerned. One was in 1957 with the launching of Sputnik by the Soviet Union. That was a major thing for me. Another was in 1963 when Kennedy was assassinated. The thing that really impacted me from a different point of view was when Dr. 62 Christian Barnard did the first heart transplant. That has always stood out in my mind as a major accomplishment. It was one of the most phenomenal things that had ever happened. Dr. Barnard, years later in the 1990's, read my published research. He was so impressed with it that he decided to come and see if I was really for real. He got on a plane and flew from South Africa to Salt Lake to meet me and we became good friends. Meeting Chris Barnard was one of the highlights of my life. He never looked at himself as being that spectacular and he'd say, "It was just another operation." For me, it was phenomenal. I've counted Chris Barnard as one of my good friends. He came to Utah several times and I went to South Africa several times. Ultimately, he was at a swimming pool in Greece when he had an asthmatic attack and didn't have his inhaler with him and died. I've always looked back at Chris Barnard as probably one of the more important people that I have met. ROH: What piece of your research was it that he read? DA: It wasn't a piece, it was the whole thing. He read the whole philosophy. Keep in mind, I have published about 250 magazine articles and 60 or 70 peer reviewed journal articles. I don't know what pieces he picked up, or if he read all of it. Somewhere in there he read it and after his first visit to Utah he called a press conference and said, "I'm going to spend the rest of my life promoting the concepts of Dr. Ashmead." ROH: How long did he stay when he came to visit? 63 DA: About a week. One of the things I did was organize a private dinner for him and all of the employees at Albion so they could all have dinner with Chris Barnard. I still remember one of the employees being so overwhelmed being in his presence that she just broke down in tears and just sobbed. When I opened China with the animal products, I went to China and was the first American to lecture in China following the closure of the borders by Mao. I lectured in Gaungzhou (Canton) at the university. My host for that was a professor that had been educated in the United States had gone back to China. During the Cultural Revolution, he was a ditch digger. After Mao died and China started to reinvent itself, he became a professor again at the university. He served as my translator and I lectured all morning. Somewhere around noon or 1:00 p.m., I quit lecturing and we broke for lunch. We went somewhere for lunch and when we came back, the lecture hall was filled with the same people. I turned to my host and said, "How did they know how long I was going to be gone for lunch because I had no idea where we were going?" He said, "They didn't know. They dared not leave for fear that they would miss something that you said. These people in the audience are all university professors and they have traveled from all across China to hear you. Some of them traveled for several days just to get here." That was very touching. I said, "I want you to arrange a banquet. I'll pay for it. I want to feed all of them while they're here." We did and it was an interesting banquet. I went around and toasted every table because they were all in the round tables. Since I don't drink they thought it was really funny the way I toasted them, but I did. One waitress lost her job because she didn't 64 give me the pigeon head, which was reserved for the most important person at the banquet. She gave it to someone else. I assured them it was perfectly fine, but she still lost her job. Later, I couldn't get the group at the banquet to go home. They sat there and sat there. Finally, I turned to my host and asked, "How do we get them to leave?" He said, "Well, you've got to excuse them. You go stand at the door and they'll get up and shake your hand and leave." I stood by the door and they all shook my hand. The old professors before Mau would bow and shake my hand and the young professors that were trained during Mau's time were ram-rod stiff, but would still shake my hand. It was a very touching thing to have professors from China come to Gaungzhou just to hear me speak. ROH: Is there anything that people might be surprised to know about you? DA: Well, if they couldn't see me on the camera I could say that I'm really good looking, but they can see me on the camera. I think that I have a lot of interests and when I focus on an interest I can become very focused on it. There are things that depending on which part of my life you're in, you would not know about the other parts of my life because I really focus on that single aspect when I'm there. We haven't talked much about it, and I won't talk much about it, but I'm really very religious and that is extremely important. I'm deeply involved in the LDS church and have been in a leadership position most of my life and continue to do so. If you saw me in a church setting, then I'm very religious and I hope it 65 translates into other aspects of my life. I hope that I still maintain that religious integrity. ROH: I think it does. I don't think people would be surprised by that. DA: That's important. If you deal in cars, I am really involved in cars and I am an expert in cars. I judge car shows all over the United States because I'm an expert. I am a master judge at these shows. If you talk about Albion, you can go one of two ways in the company. I'm a businessman and I really am a businessman. We have built an international business because of the work that I started and its now being carried on by others. I'm also a scientist and I am considered a good scientist and am well-known in the scientific circles for what I do. So, you've got those too. If you talk about art collections, I can get involved there. There are all of these different aspects of my life and if you only see one of these aspects, then I think you would be surprised at the others as you came to know me. My kids used to laugh at their friends because they would say, "Your dad is so serious and so strict." My kids would say, "You don't know my dad. He's got a great sense of humor and he's a tease." I am, but what these kids were seeing was one of my sides, not all of my sides. Whereas, my kids would see the other sides and know me differently. I don't know if that answers it. ROH: It certainly does—science and art, cars, and religion. Is there anything else that I haven't asked that you were hoping or expecting that I'd ask you? 66 DA: Not really. I would want it known that my wife is very important to me. She and I have been sweethearts since the age of 16 and at that ripe old age we wanted to get married. We waited until we were 22. We've been sweethearts forever and in three more years we will celebrate our 50th anniversary. She has been by my side the entire time. In the early days of Albion, she helped. She never got paid, but she worked at Albion. She saw the struggles and never once complained about my traveling. She never complained about my church work when I was at home. I would come home from work and immediately go do church work until late at night and she never once complained right up to the present. Yesterday, I left about 7:00 in the morning and came home about 6:00 at night and she didn't say anything. I appreciate that. She did a great job with raising our children. We've got five fantastic kids that were never in trouble and all of them educated. We've also got eighteen grandkids. I attribute that to my wife, not me. She's been my partner, my sweetheart, everything and that's more important than anything I've got. ROH: Thank you so much, DeWayne. We appreciate the time you took in sharing your story. I really appreciate your time. DA: You're welcome.

Issue 63.2 of the Review for Religious, 2004. ; 2004 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° St. Joseph's Provincial House 333 South Seton Avenue ° Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permissign will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religigus. view for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tray Gramn~ Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin QCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Miriam D. Ukeritis csJ QUARTERLY 63.2 2004 contents 118 134 143 spirituaO wisdom Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation Brian V. Johnstone CSSR proposes that some form of active vocal prayer may well go together with contemplation. Faith Seeking Understanding: Spiritual Direction's Sapiential Function Dennis J. Billy CSSR explains how spiritual direction is a divine (but also human) art that helps us "pray in truth" and come to an intimate personal knowledge of God. Windows of the Soul: Walter Ciszek SJ George Asehenbrenner SJ relates the incident in the life of the Jesuit Walter Ciszek that gave him the faith-filled freedom to survive twenty years of Communist prison. 148 158 men oring Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials Fred Herron proposes Merton's retrieval of the riches of the Benedictine Rule as a spirituality for the millennial generation. Paradox in the Monastery: Lessons from Two Ammas Laura Swan OSB reflects upon the paradox that oft-told stories reveal more about us and our current struggles than about the subject of the story. Review for Religious 169 Viewing Chapters as "Authorizing" Our Congregations' Narratives Patrick Sean Moffett CFC presents various aspects of religious-life chapters that emphasize the storytelling nature of these ecclesial events. 182 ignatian tradition Our Lady's Presence in the Spiritual Exercises J. Thomas Hamel SJ helps us to review the subtle, but penetrating, presence of our Lady to the prayer exercises of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. 192 The Spiritual Power of Matter: Teilhard and the Exercises Kathleen Duffy SSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius helped Teilhard de Chardin to synthesize the science of evolution with his Christian knowledge of God. departments 116 Prisms 204 Canonical Counsel: Mergers, Unions, Federations, and Confederations 211 Book Reviews 63.2 2004 Pentecost is the traditional birthday of the Christian church, and its mis-sionary effort began simultaneously with its birth. As we read in the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, Peter stood up "with the Eleven, raised his voice, and addressed the devout Jews of every nation staying in Jerusalem at the time. 'Jesus God has raised up, and we are his witnesses. Exalted at God's right hand, he first received the promised Holy Spirit from the Father, then poured this Spirit out on us. This is what you now see and hear'" (Ac 2:32-33). As a result of Peter's preaching on this first Pentecost day, some three thousand were bap-tized. This is the story of the church's birthday. After centuries of identifying mission just as one of the activities of the church, we now are returning to the church beginnings at Pentecost to realize how church and mission are a single reality. We might claim, then, that Christian theology has its beginnings in our reflection on mission. In the U.S. bishops' 1986 pastoral let-ter "To the Ends of the Earth," we read: "To say church is to say mission." Our way of theologizing about our Trinitarian God--Father, Son, and Spirit--is in terms of their active relationships, in terms of their mission. In Genesis, God pours forth the Spirit, and creation and life happen. In the Gospel of St. John, Jesus describes himself as the One who is sent. And, in that same Gospel, Review for Religious Jesus describes anew a sending of the Spirit from the Father and himself. Both creation and redemption can be described as salvific acts because God as "missionary" is always involved in being a saving presence in creation. As the Body of Christ, sharing in divine life, we the church also share in God's mission. The church, then, like our Trinitarian God, is missionary in its very being. The word missionary cannot be restricted only to those sent to evangelize in countries or cultures not their own. In fact, mission cannot be defined by geography, especially in our globalized world. Mission is not driven just by the zeal to expand the boundaries of the church. To be missionary, however, does call us to step out beyond the boundaries of our fears and our traditions and our cultures. If being church is being missionary, what does mis-sion mean for us? We Christians, members of Christ's Body, are missionary in our very baptismal being. Jesus has extended his mission to us all--proclaiming the reign of God (close around us) and so making people aware of the nearness of a saving, loving God. Just as the mis-sion of God is found incarnated in Jesus' life mission, we realize that our mission today must be exercised in the way we live and deal with others. It is the way that God respects and dialogues with us human beings. Only with such dialogue and respect can we make ourselves one with God's mission. As missionaries, like St. Francis of Assisi, we live, and sometimes we have to preach. There is a traditional saying, "You can only convert what you love." In an analogous way, we might need first to be "evangelized" by those that we intend to evangelize. But today we are being called anew to be who we are baptized to be: missionaries, made in the image and like-ness of our Trinitarian God, our Missionary God. David L. Fleming SJ 63.2 2004 spiritua wisdom BRIAN V. JOHNSTONE Keeping a Balance: Contemplation and Christian Meditation Some time ago Ernest E. Larkin OCarm pub-lished an article titled "Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are they Contemplation?" After reviewing the different meanings given to "meditation" and "contemplation," he conclu-ded: "In this frame of reference, we see that centering prayer and Christian Meditation do not fit handily in the category of either meditation or contemplation. They are something new in contemplative practice.''1 The present article offers an account of what is different in these contemporary prayer forms and seeks to show how they are nevertheless related to tradition. The discussion will focus primarily on Christian Meditation. Meditation and Contemplation Contemplation itself, as understood for example by St. John of the Cross, is "pure Oft"; there is no place in it for active collaboration. Brian V. Johnstone CSSR, new to our pages, writes from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Review for Religious Thus, Larkin concludes, "John's contemplation is not the immediate horizon of contemporary contemplative prayer forms.''2 In his writings, the Benedictine monk John Main, who is recognized as the original exponent of Christian Meditation, does not enter into lengthy, detailed analysis of the higher states of prayer such as we find in St. Teresa or St. John of the Cross. In his account of Christian Meditation, John Main says: "I am using the term meditation as synonymous with contemplation, contemplative prayer, meditative prayer, and so forth.''3 We do not find in his writings a sharp distinction between contemplation in the classic sense and the forms of prayer that entail the active engagement of the person praying. Is there an issue here? Perhaps the most practical question is whether Christian Meditation is to be regarded as a form of contemplation in the classic sense, that is, a type of prayer that is believed to be given freely by God, but usually only after a long process of many steps. In particular, for John of the Cross, contemplation begins with the passive, dark night of the senses. This would mean, at least in a commonly accepted interpretation of contemplation, that it would be a miraculous supernatural event reserved for an elite. Christian Meditation, as described by John Main, is not like this. It is a form of prayer in which, after some simple instruction, beginners can join. He is concerned to impart to interested persons a simple method which, being simple, is available to many. Participants are not encouraged to think of themselves as moving from stage to stage along a precisely delineated path towards a "higher" level of prayer. It is recognized that meditation over a long period, many years in fact, is usually necessary to acquire facility and skill, but experienced meditators are not considered as having attained a level of prayer with different requirements from those that are appropriate and possible for beginners. 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance A fear of mistaking "doing nothing, with nothing happening" for genuine contemplation has a long history in Christian prayer. This raises an important practical issue. In the traditional theological analysis, it was important that persons engaged in prayer recognize clearly the stage they had attained. A director was to assist discernment in this matter. Since there were particular rules and expectations for each stage, a mistake could have serious spiritual consequences. The issue is mentioned in Larkin's article; he cites James Arraj as warning that without "express contemplation" (which I take to mean contemplation in the sense of "infused" or passive contemplation) the person should continue to make acts of faith and love rather than be "simply idle in the prayer." 4 The practical problem seems to come when people think they have been given the pure gift of contemplation in the proper sense. Then, since this level is essentially passive and excludes the making of acts, they think they should drop such activity. But they may be mistaken. Having stopped making acts of faith and so forth, they may then just "hang out," doing nothing, thinking they are enjoying the gift of passive contemplation when they are merely being passive. They would be doing nothing, and nothing would be happening. This would be unlikely in the case of people following John Main's Christian Meditation. He insists on the continuous, quiet repetition of a short prayer that he calls the mantra; if persons at prayer should momentarily lapse into inactivity and find themselves Review for Religious doing nothing, they should immediately begin repeating the mantra again. A fear of mistaking "doing nothing, with nothing happening" for genuine contemplation has a long history in Christian prayer. On the one hand, it would be a serious mistake to lead people to believe that the hours they are spending in "contemplation" are just a waste of time, mere wool gathering. On the other hand, if a spiritual guide such as John Main strongly recommends that people continue to make acts during meditation, does this imply that in this form of meditation there is no place at all for contemplation in the classic passive sense? In offering an answer to this question, I will examine a prayer form recommended by St. Teresa and accepted also by some who followed her. As I will seek to show, she had a less restrictive notion of contemplation than the previous analysis suggests. This broader notion of contemplation, furthermore, may well have a parallel in Christian Meditation. Active Recollection Larkin takes note of St. Teresa's "active recollection," a form of prayer that she developed from her own experience,s He describes it as a "transitional prayer form that is very similar to modern contemplative prayer.''6 "Transitional" indicates that this way of praying is followed by those who are passing from simple meditation to the "higher" levels of contemplation, but have not yet arrived. St. Alphonsus de Liguori (+1787), in addition to his works on moral theology, wrote extensively on the spiritual life, and in particular on prayer. Following St. Teresa, he gives special mention to "active recollection," which he links closely to "contemplative repose," an expression he takes from "the mystics.''7 Contemplative repose, he explains, is vi.rtually the same as active recollection; it refers to a spiritual condition in which 63.2 2004 ,~obnstone * Keei~ing a Balance "the soul is focused on some spiritual thought and, absorbed in itself, feels gently attracted to God." I will analyze this type of prayer, "active contemplation," and compare it with Christian Meditation. Such a comparison will, I believe, serve to show the continuity of Christian Meditation with tl~e older tradition, and also bring to light those new features which it has to offer. What did St. Teresa mean by "active recollection"? She was familiar with what is called "discursive meditation." This form was promoted in the Dominican Luis de Granada's famous Book of Prayer and Meditation, which St. Teresa actually recommends in her con-stitutions. She herself, however, did not find this way of prayer suitable. About such works she wrote, "There are so many good books written by able persons for those who have methodical minds and for souls that are experienced and can concentrate within themselves that it would be a mistake if you pay attention to what I say about prayer" (19.1). But her own method is for those persons whose minds, like hers, are "wild horses" (19.2). How does St. Teresa deal with this mental rodeo in the context of prayer? She recommends .the Lord's Prayer. One would recite it phrase by phrase, slowly and attentively. In her view, vocal prayer does not exclude contemplation. She calls her method "active recollection." in this kind of prayer, she says, "the soul collects its faculties together and enters within itself to be with God" (28.4). This entails a centering of attention, plus awareness that God is near, fully with us at all times (29.5). We are to be fully present to God and to gaze upon him. Teresa uses the sight metaphor several times. It is not a matter of constructing arguments with concepts. She writes: "I'm not asking you now that you think about Him or that you draw out a lot of concepts or make long and subtle reflections with your intellect. I'm not asking you to do anything more than Review for Religio~ts look at Him" (26.3). She calls this a "method," and the one praying is required to make an "effort." This form of active prayer does not exclude contemplation, but promotes and may include it. From Teresa's experience she can affirm that this method disposes a person to the prayer of quiet (that is, a more passive kind) more readily and quickly than other methods. During this form of prayer, she writes, the soul will at times feel a passive quieting and be drawn gradually to a greater silence (30.7). For Teresa, the experience of passivity, that is, of contemplation in the proper sense, is not reserved to some final stage at the end of a long progression, nor is it reserved for spiritual experts. Is there a conceptual difference between the "prayer of quiet" and contemplation in the classic sense? St. Teresa refers to the former as "the beginning of pure contemplation" (30.7). But it still entails active recollection and may include vocal prayer. She insists that it is a mistake to believe that vocal prayer cannot go together with contemplation. There are no clear psychological gaps between vocal prayer, the prayer of quiet, and the beginning of contemplation. One fades into another as the felt need to initiate new effort yields to the sense of being moved by the impetus of the process one has already begun. This itself, of course, was begun as a response to the stimulus of grace, which in turn, as it emerges into consciousness, yields the awareness of being taken over completely by God. St. Alphonsus dealt specifically with the nature of the "prayer of quiet." According to his view, since in active recollection one's will is dominant, it will bring the imagination under control without any further effort on the part of the soul.8 There is, then, control, but it is the kind of control that follows the momentum of the earlier activity; there is no need for the further effort of making 63.2 2004 Jobnstone * Keeping a Balance new acts. This is a-form of quiet, but it is not completely passive. St. Alphonsus insists on some acts, those to which God is gently attracting us. The impetus of the divine initiative begins to emerge into consciousness, but this is not to say that the same initiative was absent before one's becoming conscious of it. The assumption that active and passive prayer are essentially different levels of prayer begins to appear as abstract theory that does not necessarily correspond to actual experience. For St. Teresa, the reason for active recollection is to become aware of Christ's presence. For example, we can be present to him in joy, being with him as risen. Here Teresa seems to imply reflection on the Gospel accounts. She has a theological support for this conviction: "Although risen, he still influences us through his earthly mysteries, by which he draws close to us in a more tangible way" (26.4,5,8). St. Alphonsus, as has been said, followed St. Teresa closely with respect to "active recollection." He is St. Alphonsus insists on some acts, those to which God is gently attracting us. perhaps more insistent than she is that the person at prayer continue to make acts. There may have been historical reasons for this emphasis, apart from A1- phonsus's own energetic personality. Pope Innocent XI in 1687 condemned the Quietists. This group taught, or is supposed to have taught, that making one intense act of love of God and never withdrawing it would assure union with God, and that no further effort was needed either in prayer or in living. It may be as a reaction against this that St. Alphonsus stresses the need for acts and more acts. Review for Religious However, while he emphasized the need for activity, it was certainly not his intention that the active contemplation become obsessively busy. Consider the following description of active recollection: "Without conscious effort, untroubled by external distractions, and totally absorbed within itself, experiencing at the same time a deep sense of serenity, the soul is able to concentrate on the mystery or the eternal truth in question.''9 These words would, on the whole, not sound alien to one familiar with Christian Meditation. But, to explain the differences between Christian Meditation and the active recollection of the Teresan tradition, a more detailed description of the former is needed. Christian Meditation John Main's account of Christian Meditation begins with an acknowledgment of the inveterate confusion of the human mind. While St. Teresa invoked the image of wild horses, John Main compares this condition of the mind of the would-be meditator to a "tree full on monkeys." Whether described in terms of horses or monkeys, the mental experiences are clearly similar. There is also a similarity in the way these two writers recommend that we deal with the problem. St. Teresa favors the Lord's Prayer; John Main also proposes a form of vocal prayer. The prayer he recommends is an attentive, mindful repetition of a phrase, a mantra. He recommends, in particular, Marana tha, an Aramaic expression which means "Our Lord, come." St. Paul ends his First Letter to the Corinthians with this invocation, and the Book of Revelation ends with the same prayer. The prayer is eminently Christian. For both St. Teresa and John Main, the aim of cultivating attention so as to make space for the experience of the presence of God is essentially the same. Main once wrote: 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping aBalance St. Thomas Aquinas says that "contemplation consists in the simple enjoyment of the truth." Simple enjoyment! Now it is true that thinking, analyzing, comparing, and contrasting all have their place in the various disciplines, including theology. But contemplation, as St. Thomas calls it, meditation as we would call it, is not the time for activity, for the activity of thinking, analyzing, comparing, or contrasting. Meditation is the time for being. Simple enjoyment. And the simplicity that St. Thomas speaks of, its oneness, union.1° Here no clear distinction is made between contemplation in St. Thomas's sense and meditation. The experience of oneness or union, however, seems to belong to contemplation in the classic sense, that is, something beyond active meditation; the soul is completely passive. For John Main, though, these distinctions do not seem to matter. There is a notable difference between the Weresan prayer of "active recollection," at least as understood by St. Alphonsus, and Christian Meditation. The first entails reflection on a "mystery" or "eternal truth," while the latter aims at a sense of union, without passing through the penetration of a "truth." In Christian Meditation, one does not concentrate, for example, on the meaning of the phrase "Lord, come," but repeats it as a way of focusing awareness on the presence of God. As we have seen, St. Teresa, and St. Alphonsus as well, would immediately affirm this goal. The point of difference is that they would include a concentration on a particular mystery or truth within the meditation itself. Truth in a more general sense, however, is intended as an element of Christian Meditation. John Main wrote: "Meditate every morning and every evening, faithfully, simply, and humbly. Contemplation consists in the simple enjoyment of truth.''11 This statement suggest two facets of the one event: the active meditation (that is, the Review for Religious repetition of the mantra) and the simple enjoyment that accompanies it. This is not all that different from St. Teresa's and St. Alphonsus's notion of "active recollection." Christian Meditation should not be misinterpreted. It is not antiintellectual or antitheological. It does not downplay the importance of truths. It merely leaves reflection on such truths outside of meditation itself. Indeed, within the movement there is available to meditators an extensive body of writing that offers ample reflection on the mysteries of faith. Because it is a popular movement, the reflection is generally not presented as systematic theology, but then neither are the reflections of St. Teresa or St. Alphonsus. I have noted above the particular place that St. Teresa gave to the resurrection; the same theme occurs frequently in the writings of John Main.~2 It would be a mistake to think that Christian Meditation plays down doctrine. Rather, we might say, it is presumed that study and reflection lead to a background awareness which, while not consciously evoked in the meditation itself, continues to support spiritual awareness. There can be no doubt that many people, growing numbers of them, have found Christian Meditation a most satisfactory way of prayer. Is there any compelling reason to choose between St. Teresa's more extensive use of words during meditation--in particular, the words of the Lord's Prayer--and the brief word recommended in Christian Meditation? There are many ways of praying, and people may be led by the Spirit along different paths. Some, perhaps because of different cultural backgrounds, have found the older approach rather too insistent on Christian Meditation is not antiintellectual or antitheological. 63.2 2004 Johnstone * Keeping aBalance repeated acts and a good many words. As I have noted previously, however, neither St. Teresa nor St. Alphonsus had in mind a multiplication of acts or a mechanical proliferation of words. For whatever reason, though, in our time the verbal austerity of Christian Meditation seems to appeal to many. The limited use of words, or even the deliberate renunciation of them, in Christian Meditation is connected to its nature as conceived by John Main. Spiritual authors in the past often spoke of "conversation" in their accounts of prayer. This conversation was to be a two-way affair, even if carefully structured. When God speaks, we listen attentively; when God does not speak, we engage actively in the conversation through acts of faith and love.~3 This "traditional" element John Main includes in his own words, although again with a significant modification: "Prayer is not a matter of talking to God, but of listening to him, of being with him. It is this simple understanding of prayer that lies behind John Cassian's advice that, if we want to pray, to listen, we must become quiet and still, reciting a short verse over and over again." ~4 Active Recollection and Contemplation At this point I move to a more theoretical discussion, but one with practical implications as well. The issue is the relationship between active recollection and contemplation. St. Teresa, from her own experience, taught that active recollection disposed to contemplation, but she also anticipated that contemplation itself might well arrive during the time of active recollection. The 4th-century monks of the Egyptian desert also expected that "higher" forms of prayer might suddenly break through more normal forms of meditation. During their periods of praying the psalms together, they were to curb their spitting, coughing, yawning, groaning, and Review for Religious similar noises. The only sound that was accepted was a spontaneous sigh of ecstasy.15 It was anticipated, apparently, that moments of "contemplation" would emerge within more ordinary prayer. St. Teresa seems to have had no difficulty in recognizing when such special moments occurred in her own prayer. For one whose spiritual sensibilities were as finely tuned as hers, there would probably be no reason to have any doubt about the presence of contemplation. What are we to think, then, of the advice of Arraj, mentioned by Larkin, that, until "express contemplation" is present, one should continue to make acts (of faith, love, and so forth)? The practical problem is how to know that such contemplation is present, and how certain we should be about it. To clarify the question, we could accept Karl Rahner's theological explanation, namely, that the experience of God in meditation, in human activity, or in classical spiritual doctrine's "infused contemplation" arises from the one same gift of God at work within us.16 Indeed this must be the case. To speak of "passive" contemplation as a pure gift must not be allowed to suggest that active recollection is not a gift, but somehow a product of our own efforts, before or apart from grace. We may say that recollection "disposes" us to the prayer of quiet, but we may not claim that recollection is the product of our initiative, which somehow, of its own power, engenders or earns the further state. "Pure," as applied to the gift of contemplation, does not imply that prayer such as active recollection is somehow impure, because contaminated with human activity. Nor can it be philosophically accurate to say that in "passive" prayer we are not active in any sense. The pure gift of God's grace cannot but raise us to the highest level of actuation. Our conscious experience may be one of pure passivity, but when God takes over completely our 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance The more intense the power of grace, the more we are fully active. 1-30J capacities are not simply extinguished. As is always the case with grace, the more intense the power of grace, the more we are fully active. The more God intervenes, the more empowered we become and the more free we are. Similarly, I would have difficulties with an explanation of infused contemplation according to which "the infused light and love go directly to the object without any return to the self.''17 In the "modern" philosophical era (that is, from the 16th century onwards), there has been a dissociation between subject and object)8 This seems to have been reflected in Catholic theo-logy, so that some traditions focus on the subject and others on the object. In these circumstances the interpretation of the spiritual experience involved here may tilt excessively towards the object. Perhaps such thoughts as these are ¯ improper philosophical intrusions on discourse about spirituality, but I would suggest that cutting or leaving the subject completely out of the picture is metaphysically impossible. Further, I would point out that what is interpreted as an absolute certainty of the presence of God, or of the state of "passivity," is a certainty on the part of the subject. When someone says "Whenever I experienced contemplative prayer, there was absolutely no doubt that I was in God's presence,"'9 we would need to add after "doubt" the words "in my mind." Without this qualification the interpretation veers too far towards the subjective. Such a state of consciousness is not a proof that God is present, or that the pure gift of prayer of quiet has in fact been granted. We cannot know definitively whether we have reached this "stage" or not. Review for Religious Such certainty as we have rests ultimately on the certainty of our faith, not on the felt quality of our experiences. This is not to return to a theory in which grace is beyond experience. We may indeed experience grace. But our conscious certainty cannot establish that grace is in fact present. What I am suggesting here is that the traditional language used in speaking of contemplation, meditation, and levels of prayer has problems. At least part of the difficulty with the older formulations is that they presupposed a rigid distinction between "natural" and "supernatural," and hence between "acquired" (or natural) contemplation and "infused" (or supernatural) contemplation. "Natural" meant what we do; "supernatural" meant what God does. Such a sharp distinction is understandable when we recall the theological disputes of the time (especially the controversies about grace), but we would express that difference somewhat more flexibly today. Perhaps we could say that it was and is a mistake to reify the various categories of prayer which the classic authors have named for us. Probably it was not so much these authors themselves, but the theological commentators who interpreted them, who made the mistake. To reify would mean to consider the distinct kinds of prayer as if they were things like quantitative blocks of consciousness that we could, as it were, line up one after another on a conveyor belt and then run the belt through our minds. Following on this thought, we might suggest that saying the petitions of the Lord's Prayer, as St. Teresa did, or repeating.the mantra, as John Main did, can dispose us to quiet and contemplation. But it is not necessary to turn them off, as it were, so that we can really appreciate the quiet. If we do so, the wild horses of our disordered minds are likely to gallop back again, or the screeching monkeys may well return to the 63.2 2004 Johnstone ¯ Keeping a Balance thickets of our consciousness, and quiet would be no more. In these reflections I am suggesting that the classic fixed distinctions between different forms of prayer may not be so important as they .were once thought to be. I suggest that it would not make a great deal of sense to say to oneself, "I have not yet arrived at the experience of passivity and received the pure gift of contemplation, and so I must continue with active prayer." Nor would the reverse be any better, namely, to convince oneself that one has indeed been given this gift and so to drop active prayer. The best solution, I suggest, would be to accept with St. Teresa (and St. Alphonsus) that some form of active, vocal prayer may quite well go together with contemplation. At root this is what John Main believed: the repetition of the mantra may accompany contemplation. We do not need to be scrutinizing our consciousness so as to find whether contemplation has occurred or not. The prayer of quiet, or gift of contemplation, may be given by God at any moment within that active prayer. We need not be surprised if this happens, and we may welcome it if or when it is given to us. To conclude, the form of meditation in which one repeats a short prayer continuously with the expectation that a prayer of quiet (with a sense of oneness and rest) may supervene has strong roots in the Catholic spiritual tradition. This is true not only of the earlier tradition, where we find Cassian commending this practice, but also of the more recent tradition, as expressed in particular by St. Teresa. The description of prayer in the texts on Christian Meditation does not include a description of contemplation in the classic sense, but who are we to say that the latter may not supervene? It is indeed God's gift--and may be given whenever God chooses to do so. Notes t Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms," Review for Religious 57 (1998): 83. Review for Religious 2 Larkin, p. 84. 3 Cited in Larkin, p. 78. 4 Larkin, p. 87 n. 12. 5 The Way of Perfection, in Vol. 2 of The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1980). p. 140. The relevant passages are chaps. 28-29. Hereafter all references to Teresa will be to this work and edition, by chapter and section(s) given in the text thus: (19.1). 6 Larkin, p. 83. 7 Alpbonsus de Liguori: Selected Writings (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1999), p. 170. The putting together of this "active" recollection with "contemplative repose" may seem perplexing. The essential point is that it still involves acting, as distinct from "infused contemplation," where there is no acting on our part. s Alpbonsus, p. 176, citing St. Teresa. 9 Alpbonsus, p. 170. ~0 John Main, The Inner Christ (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1987), p. 203. " Main, p. 205. ~2 Main, pp. 116, 119, 132. '3illpbonscts, p. 171. ,4 Main, p. 22. ,5 Owen Chadwick, John Cassian (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1950), p. 69. ~6 Larkin, p. 81. ~7 1 refer here to the citation from Max Huot de Longchamp, Saint Jean de la Croix: Pour Lire le Docteur Mystique (Paris: Fac-editions, 1991), p. 164, cited by Larkin, p. 87. ~8 See Charles Taylor, The Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (Cambridge: Harva~:d University Press, 1989), p. 188. ,9 Larkin, p. 78. 63.2 2004 DENNIS J. BILLY Faith Seeking Understanding: Spiritual Direction's Sapiential Function ~;l~you are a theologian, you will pray in truth; and you pray in truth, you are a theologian." 1 These words of Nilus of Sinai (+450), a 5th-century monk from Ancyra in Asia Minor who lived in the wilderness of Sinai for more than sixty years, remind us of the inti-mate connection between conversing with and under-standing the mystery of God. A true knowledge of God involves an experience of the divine mystery, not simply knowledge about it. Such experiential knowledge comes, not through rational analysis, but from a living rela-tionship with God nourished by prayer. This under-standing of theology emphasizes knowing God by participating in the intimate community of divine love. It values the living reality of God over theological constructions of that reality. That reality is closer to us than we are to our own selveS. We are invited to be pre-sent to God's pr.esence in us. Spiritual direction can help us become present to this reality. It is a divine (but also human) art that helps us "pray in truth" and come to an intimate personal knowledge of God. ._~,, ~ ~,~4_J 2D45e8n;n iRs oJm. Bai l0ly0 1C0S0S; RIt awlyri.tes again from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. Review for Religious Praying in Truth The theologian, in Nilus's eyes, is one who knows how to "pray in truth." To do so, we must strip off the old self and put on the new. Only then, by being renewed in the image of our Creator, will we gradually progress toward true knowledge of the divine (see Col 3:9-10). To pray in truth is to pray in Christ, the way, the truth, and the life (see Jn 14:6). Praying in truth means open-ing our hearts and being present to God as we really are. It means not being afraid to look inside ourselves and confront the various masks and self-deceptions we find there. It means bearing our souls to God so that God may bear his soul to us. Intimacy with God first requires intimacy with oneself. We cannot communicate with God in truth if we are unwilling to know the truth about ourselves. Coming to an intimate knowledge of ourselves, how-ever, is no easy task. Most of us cannot go it alone and are in dire need of help. We find facing our inner wants and insecurities much too threatening. Left to our own resources, many of us would end up rationalizing away our fears and discounting our deepest hopes about who we are and want to become. Spiritual direction helps us confront ourselves and open our hearts to God. It gently points out the voice of the Spirit manifested in the nitty-gritty circumstances of our lives. As the prophet Elijah reminds us, often that voice is found, not in whirlwinds, earthquakes, and fires about us, but in the small whisper that can only be heard in the solitude of our hearts (see 1 Kg 19:11-13). Spiritual direction seeks to settle our hearts so that we can rest in this solitude and become ourselves in our faith? Focusing on our conscious and unconscious inter-action with the divine, it helps us to follow the flow of troublesome and often conflicting personal narratives in our life and then to make responsible iudgments about 63.2 2004 Billy * Faith Seeking Understanding what we are being called to. It pays special heed to our prayer life, helping us to discern authentic prayer from its mean and paltry imitation. The goal of spiritual direction is for us to "pray in truth." We receive help to confront ourselves and thereby to discover our authentic voice. That voice alone will lead us to intimacy with God. We must be patient, how-ever, and ever so silent. We must listen to our heart and not be afraid to hear what it has to say. When we speak from the heart, we soon discover the gentle voice of the Spirit yearning within us. To pray in truth is to pray in the Spirit, the re-creative presence of God that hovers over and revives the primal forces within us. We know we are praying in the Spirit when our lives manifest the Spirit's various gifts and fruits (see Is 11:2-3, Ga 5:22-23). Spiritual direction helps identify these spiritual riches and let them do their quiet work within us, the work of gradual divinization, of greater sharing in the eternal love of the Godhead. Solitude of Heart The primary means by which the Spirit accomplishes its task is by nurturing in us a deep desire for solitude. As we empty our hearts of unnecessary attachments, we make room for the divine indwelling. Solitude of heart is the precondition for our experience of the fullness of life. "The glory of God," says Irenaeus of Lyons, "is a liv-ing human being."3 We who are created in the image and likeness of God become ourselves only by allowing God to be himself in us. Spiritual direction helps us open our hearts to the heart of God. It helps us by fostering a contemplative attitude toward life, enabling us to see all that happens in the light of God's providential plan. By offering their directees the hospitality of a lis-tening heart, directors set the tone for all that happens during the session. By being present in silence and with Review for Religious their full attention, directors affirm the seriousness of what is taking place and often form lasting friendships. These bonds spring from their reflective gaze upon the directees' unfolding experiences, from this sharing in their solitude. Three persons share in this solitude of heart: the director, the directee, and the Holy Spirit. In direction, directors and directees gradually turn their attention to this quiet partner in their midst. They discern the signs of the Spirit in the nar-ratives that directees share with their direc-tors. The Spirit leaves traces of its presence in the threads of people's lives. When we look at our lives prayerfully, these slight vestiges gradually become noticed and fit into conscious awareness. This is the time for directors and directees together to interpret these signs so that the directees can respond appropriately. One of these signs is peace. After his resurrection Jesus comforted his disciples with a message of peace that stemmed from his immediate and unquestioning trust in the Father's love (see Lk 24:36, Jn 20:19, 21). Today this same message comes to us through the yearn-ing of the Spirit in our hearts, who intercedes for us to the Lord with unutterable groaning (see Rm 8:26). Directors help their directees to recognize the factors in their life that contribute to peace. Such peace comes not from the world, but by giving ourselves whole-heartedly to the one thing that ultimately matters--the love of God dwelling in our heart. "The paradise of God," says Alphonsus de Liguori, "is the heart of man.''4 The peace of Christ works its The primary means by which the Spirit accomplishes its task is by nurturing in us a deep desire for solitude. Billy ¯ Faith Seeking Understanding way outward from within. Rooted in the love of the Lord, it eventually finds outward expression in our striv-ing to form right relationships with others on every level of human society (such as family, country, community of nations). Peace, "the tranquillity of order" as Augustine of Hippo refers to it, possesses personal, com-munal, and transcendent dimensions.5 For us to find it in our lives, solitude of heart is necessary. Spiritual direc-tion, in turn, is an important instrument given us by God to help in that discovery. Faith Seeking Understanding If theologians are persons who pray in truth, spiritual direction facilitates such prayer. Theology, we are told, "denotes. far more than the learning about God and religious doctrine acquired through academic study. It signifies active and conscious participation in or percep-tion of the realities of the divine world--in other words, the realization of spiritual knowledge.''6 To be even more specific, theology has to do with our attempt to reflect upon our experience of the indwelling of the Trinity in our hearts. When seen in this light, the classical Western understanding of theology as "faith seeking understand-ing" (tides quaerens intellectum)--which was developed by Anselm of Canterbury under the influence of the Latin Vulgate and Augustine of Hippo--needs to be rescued from the overrationalizing of later centuries and exam-ined in relation to acquiring Christian wisdom.7 When understood as a sapiential (as opposed to a narrowly ratio-nal) enterprise, theology's true task comes to the fore. All of us are called to reflect upon the meaning of our lives in the light of the gospel message. To accom-plish this task well, we must reflect on the experience of God in our hearts and try to ascertain what exactly is being asked of us. When understood sapientially, theol-ogy as "faith seeking understanding" tries to discern the Review for Religious movement of the Spirit in our lives so that we can bet-ter understand how to live out our call to discipleship in mature and responsible ways. Spiritual direction is an important place for acquiring spiritual wisdom. It helps us talk to God, listen to him, and engage in discernment that leads to deeper intimacy with him. Spiritual direction achieves this goal whenever there is an honest, sharing relationship between the two per-sons. This relationship, while complex and manifold, focuses primarily on the relationship of the directee with God. Directors help directees to understand their inter-action with God better and then to draw closer to God. This process is both challenging and consoling. Directors challenge directees to be honest and to identify areas for future growth. They also need to comfort directees in times of discouragement and imminent loss. Knowing when to exercise this dual role of challenge and comfort is one of the primary skills that directors need to have. Faith seeking understanding in spiritual direction calls for directors to have flexibility and strength. They need to adapt to changing times and circumstances and to withstand the adverse challenges that may occur. The fruits of the process become evident. To believe as one searches for meaning in life leads to a deeper under-standing of one's life situation, of one's relationship with oneself, with others, and with God. Spiritual direction, in its many forms, seeks to empower us to affirm our faith and in the process become ourselves more fully. Becoming Holy Becoming ourselves in our faith is but another way of speaking about our desire for holiness. Spiritual direction is not simply a matter of gaining greater insight into our relationship with God. It has very much to do with turn-ing those insights into concrete practices that lead fur-ther along the path of conversion. These practices must 63.2 2004 Billy ¯ Faitb Seeking Understanding Becoming ourselves in our faith is but another way of speaking about our desire for holiness. not be imposed from without; they must arise from within. They must correspond to a true assessment of our needs based on insights that spiritual direction has facilitated. A truly wise person is also a holy person, and vice versa. According to Thomas Aquinas, wisdom is the gift of the Spirit that corresponds to and is guided by and is a perfec-tion of charity.8 The sapi-ential function of spiritual direction leads us beyond simply knowing God to loving and serving him. "Faith seeking understand-ing" through spiritual direction leads not only to insights into divine things, but also to incorporating those insights into the way we live our daily lives. This close relationship between "being" and "action" is important for the sapiential function of spiritual direc-tion. The virtuous actions performed by people striving to be virtuous contribute to making them even more vir-tuous. When directees ask their director what they should do, they are ultimately asking about what kind of person they themselves wish to become. When prop-erly exercised, spiritual direction helps people see this important connection and encourages them to make "communion with God" the motivating force of all of their actions. Living in communion with God is another term for becoming holy. It is a primary concern of the direction process, helping people become themselves in their life of faith. As an element of "faith seeking understanding," spir-itual direction seeks to help us not only to discern but also to act. By far the most important thing any of us can ever do is pray. Prayer is "the great means of salva- Review for Religious tion.''9 Our manner of prayer--its frequency, its form, its content--is and should always remain a vital subject in spiritual direction. During direction we need to ask if our prayer addresses every dimension of our human makeup: the physical, emotional, intellectual, social, and spiritual.~° With the help of our director, we should try to identify what we may be neglecting in prayer and make appropriate changes. How we pray says a great deal about our own self-understanding and our rela-tionship with God. By examining our prayer carefully for ways to improve it, we demonstrate our love for God and our longing for holiness. Spiritual direction helps us to understand and prac-tice true prayer. It accompanies us on the way to self-knowledge and invites us to deeper intimacy with God. Such experiential knowledge transcends the conceptual world of the professional theologian. By it we share consciously in God's love and develop an intuitive aware-ness of the mind of God. By helping us to "pray in truth," spiritual direction assists our understanding and enables us to become ourselves in our faith, to live in the Spirit, to grow in wisdom and in the knowledge of God, to grow in charity throughout our lives. By help-ing us listen to the movement of the Spirit in our hearts and respond wisely and generously, spiritual direction enables us to see the world around us with something of God's zealous compassion, God's .intense longing to dwell in the hearts of us all. Notes 1 Nilus of Sinai, IY3 Texts on Prayer, no. 61 in Early Fathers from the Philokalia, trans. E. Kadloubovsky and G.E.H. Palmer (London: Faber and Faber, 1954), p. 134. 2 See Jean Laplace, The Direction of Conscience, trans. John C. Guinness (New York: Herder and Herder, 1967), p. 26. 3 Irenaeus of Lyons, Against the Heresies 4.20.7, in Vol. 1 of The Ante-Nicene Fathers, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1925), p. 490. 63.2 2004 Billy * Faith Seeking Understanding 4 Alphonsus de Liguori, The Way to Converse Always and Familiarly with God, in Vol. 2 of The Complete Works of Saint Alphonsus de Liguori, ed. Eugene Grimm (Brooklyn: Redemptorist Fathers, 1926), p. 395. s Augustine of Hippo, The City of God 19.13, in Vol. 2 of The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1903), pp. 409-410. 6 The Philokalia: The Complete Text, ed. and trans. G.E.H. Palmer, Philip Sherrard, and Kallistos Ware (London: Faber and Faber, 1981), Vol. 2, p. 389. 7 See Anselm of Canterbury, The Proslogion, chap. 1, in Vol. 1 of Anselm of Canterbury, ed. and trans. Jasper Hopkins and Herbert W. Richardson (Toronto and New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1974), pp. 91-93; Biblia sacra vulgata, ed. Robert Weber (Stuttgart: Wiirttembergische Bibelanstalt, 1969), Vol. 2, p. 1103 (Is 7:9); Augustine of Hippo, On the Trinity 8.5.8, in Vol. 3 of The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, ed. Philip Schaff (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1900), pp. 119-120. ~ See Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, I-II, q.68, a.8; II-II, q.45, in Vol. 20 of Great Books of the Western World, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins (Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1952), pp. 95-96, 598- 606. 9 Alphonsus de Liguori, Prayer, The Great Means of Salvation, in Vol. 3 of Complete Works (1927), p. 23. 10 See Dennis J. Billy, Evangelical Kernels: A Theological Spirituality of the Religious Life (Staten Island: Alba House, 1993), pp. 167-184. Gift I am stunned by the gift you gave me. Not a sun or stars, not the sea or a pebble rounded to perfection. Not even forgiveness, although this was wrapped into the gift. You gave me love. Some day I may regard your gift indifferently, as something I deserve. For now, I know nothing but astonishment. Patricia Chaffee OP Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Windows of the Soul: Walter Ciszek SJ T e eyes are often windows into the soul. A mother ows this as she gazes quietly into the eyes of her newborn child, dreaming and hoping about its future. Lovers and friends know this too. Gazing into each other's eyes opens a whole world, wide and deep beyond words. Most of us are unaware of how revelatory our eyes are. The grumpiness of discontented people lurks in their eyes for anyone to see. So, too, the limpid kindness of truly guileless people sparkles in their eyes. Yes, in many instances our eyes are windows into the soul. In fact, our eyes convey more and deeper messages as we grow through life. Forty years ago,. on 12 October 1963, BOAC flight #501 from London landed right on time at 6:55 a.m. A man in his late fifties wearing a heavy green overcoat shuffled down the stairway from the plane. A big floppy Russian hat concealed a lot of his face. But, under the brim of that hat, like beacons of a profoundly wise soul, George Aschenbrenner SJ has written for this journal every couple of years since 1966. His current address is Campion Hall; University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. r~l!4~a --- ~ 63.2 2004 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Windows of rise Soul two lively grayish-blue eyes greeted sights not seen for twenty-seven years. At least ten years before, his Jesuit brothers in the New York Province had offered for him the customary two Masses for deceased Jesuits. Now Father Walter Ciszek of the Society of Jesus had risen from the dead. Those dancing guileless eyes, those soul-beacons, told a stoW immediately that it would take years to get into words: two books written painstakingly with the gracious competent help of Father Dan Flaherty, a brother Jesuit. But, if you ever had the chance to meet Father Ciszek, you got the whole stoW in those eyes. My experience of Walter was that those lively eyes, those bottomless wells of love, joy, and humble confidence, conveyed more than any hand gestures ever could. Dramatic gesturing was not his way of communicating. Like a diamond those eyes sparkled with a wisdom, a peace, a humble confidence, but first and foremost a startling freedom. On that October day at New York's Idlewild airport, Father Walter was free, free from KGB surveillance, free from restriction on his priestly min-istry, free from the brittle cold, free from his starvation diet, free from the threat of death at almost any moment. But freedom was something he had known truly and profoundly for the last twenty-one years--ever since that time in the dreaded Lubianka prison, a time that marked his soul for the rest of his life, a time that he would never forget. (It was a soul-changing experience, too, for oth-ers when they met him: something smiled in and leapt out of those eyes to greet you.) Early in his captivity, solitary confinement and intense interrogations night and day were wearing him down. Knowing he was not guilty of the espionage charges, he thought that all he had to do was explain this clearly and definitely to his questioners. But a combination of forces--first the repeated questionings like a pile driver hammering into Review for Religious his head and heart and then the cold deaf ear to his labored and elaborately explicit defense--became too much for him. He gave up. He quit. He signed an admis-sion of his guilt--just to get it over with. Back in his cell, however, and all by himself again, it hit him. He had given in to free himself of this harass-ment of his soul. His motive had been selfish, filled with ego, and had lost much awareness of God's love and care. He felt ashamed and confounded. In that disheartened state of mind, though, he felt relief that, during the fif-teen years of hard labor in Siberia to which he had been sentenced, at least the solitary confinement and the mad-dening questions would stop. This relief was short-lived. Soon he was told that there would be four more years at Lubianka to "clarify" some of the issues to which he had confessed. The deaf-ening, soul-splitting interrogation began again. It seemed more than he could handle. What he had hoped to get out of by signing the paper was beginning all over again. An overwhelming despair descended upon him, a loss of hope and faith. He felt absolutely helpless. He was at rock bottom. You and I have sometimes felt helpless; we know that even brief moments of helplessness are fear-some. But most of us have never plumbed the depths to which he fell at that moment, all alone, in Lubianka. But, at this moment of feeling bankruptcy of soul, at this lowest point in his whole life, something happened. He stepped across a boundary line. No, to be more exact, he did not step across: he was lifted across. In that moment of despair, he remembered an olive grove some two thousand years ago. Jesus, Son of Mary and Son of God, having chosen to be faithful to his identity and mis-sion in the face of looming certain death, had collapsed in helplessness, had hit rock bottom (Mk 14:32-42). Through his surrender, through his self-abandon-ment, Jesus was rescued, he was freed. The impending 63.2 20O4 Aschenbrenner * Windows of the Soul Walter Ciszek's contemplation of Jesus" agony in the garden gave new meaning to his own despairing helplessness. horrific suffering and death were not taken away, but something shifted deep inside. A freedom, a humble con-fidence, lifted his soul because the eyes of a dearly loving, caring Father were still gazing on him, even in his utter helplessness. In fact, now he knew it in some new way: no depth of helplessness could ever be beyond the loving, life-giving gaze of those eyes. Those eyes, there in Gethsemane, both looked deep into his soul and also revealed a bottomless love and care deeper than any doubt or frustration. Walter Ciszek's contemplation of Jesus' agony in the garden--a prayer that just came upon him, he did not reach out for it--gave new meaning to his own despair-ing helplessness. As in the case of Jesus, Father Ciszek's fear was transformed into freedom, and his feelings of danger and despair became confidence and happiness. Now nothing seemed to worry or trouble him anymore. At an apparent depth of no return, he had learned that God would never leave him, but would take care of him even if he were killed. Astonishing, simply amazingm talk about a new heart and a new freedom! He could say with St. Paul: "I am ready for anything through the strength of the One who lives within me" (Ph 4:13). That prayer along with Jesus in the garden marked Walter Ciszek for life right into eternity. He would never forget that prayer. Yes, Walter Ciszek became profoundly free in Lubianka twenty-one years before he stepped off a plane in the United States. The Word of God had leapt off the page anew in the person, the presence, the eyes of the Review for Religious risen Jesus. Now nothing he did, nowhere he was taken, nothing that happened to him, absolutely nothing could separate Walter Ciszek from the risen Jesus. In his own agony of despair and helplessness, he had been gifted with a very special awareness of God's love. This gave him an invincible trust, whatever the future might hold. Nothing could really hurt him now because he was in God's loving hands, more than he had ever realized before. Yes, the eyes are windows into the soul. But the eyes of holiness are also reflectors. Holiness reflects the radi-ance of Someone Else's loving eyes. Just as Jesus knew the gaze of a dear Father's eyes, Walter Ciszek experi-enced God's loving gaze in the depths of his despair and helplessness. That same loving gaze blesses us all, each and every one, with a freedom and a trust that does not take all suffering out of our lives, but does enliven our hearts, our souls, and our eyes. It is no surprise that, whenever my friends and I met Father Ciszek, we felt we were meeting more than just that courageous, peaceful little man. Those lively, gray-ish- blue, dancing eyes were windows glistening with the wisdom, the freedom, the love of his soul. Those eyes mirrored the steady gaze of Jesus' love--a love that moti-vated everything Walter Ciszek did, a love that got him through fifteen years of undeserved hard labor in prison and five years of undeserved solitary confinement, a love that burned in his soul and left him unscarred by bitter-ness, anger, revenge. The eyes of Walter Ciszek told the story of his soul, a story of courageous love in incredible suffering and of invincible trust against all odds, because the most impor-tant story of love always glistens in the eyes of the risen Jesus. 6~.2 2004 mentoring FRED HERRON Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials Young people who grew up in the late 20th cen-tury, sometimes called millennials, easily relate to Thomas Merton as someone not entirely comfortable in any one place. Like him, they find it hard to root themselves in one "abiding place.''1 They are more comfortable describing themselves as "spiritual" rather than "religious." For them the paradigm shift that Merton illu-minated in his lifetime seems a dramatic release from the moorings of the stable past and an optimistic embarkation on a journey. By high-lighting such a change in his life and thought, Merton managed to offer direction and some cautions to those who would follow. Dwelling and Seeking Robert Wuthnow has argued convincingly that a major change took place in the spiritual Fred Herron is chairperson of the religious-studies depart-ment at Fontbonne Hall Academy and a member of the Department of Theology and Religious Studies at St. John's University, Staten Island. He may be addressed at Fonthonne Hall Academy; 9901 Shore Road; Brooklyn, New York 11209. Review.for Religious practice of the last half of the 20th century. He suggests that "a traditional spirituality of inhabiting sacred places has given way to a new spirituality of seeking." He con-trasts these two viewpoints this way: "A spirituality of dwelling emphasizes habitation: God occupies a definite place in the universe and creates a sacred space in which humans too can dwell." On the other hand, "a spiritual-ity of seeking emphasizes negotiation: individuals search for sacred moments that reinforce their conviction that the divine exists, but these moments are fleeting.''z Both forms of spirituality have found their place in the history of religions, and the world religions have sup-plied rich imagery for both. Wuthnow points out that, "in settled times, people have been able to create a sacred habitat and to practice habitual forms of spirituality. [However,] in unsettled times, they have been forced to negotiate with themselves and with each other to find the sacred." Settled times evoke an imagery of dwelling, and unsettled times one of journeys. In the former, "the sacred is fixed, and spirituality can be found within the gathered body of God's people; in the latter, the sacred is fluid, portable, and spirituality must be pursued with a sense of God's people having been dispersed.''3 A habitation spirituality is suggested by the Garden of Eden and a land of milk and honey. A spirituality of seeking, on the other hand, is illustrated by the taber-nacle and the tents of pilgrims and travelers. The first form can be seen in the secure routine of the monastery, the cloister, while the latter is seen as an ongoing journey. The story of the Shulamite woman draws the dis-tinction between these two spiritualities. At first she revels in the security of her spiritual home: "Our bed is green, the beams of our houses are cedar, and the rafters of fir" (Sg 1:16-17). Later, however, she wanders, seek-ing the warmth she has lost: "I will rise now., and go 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Mertion and a Spirituality for Millennials about the city. In the streets and in the squares, I will seek the one I love" (Sg 3:2). Merton's metaphors of the "citadel" and of the "wide, impregnable country" point to similar visions.4 Note that both are images of security, but the former suggests secu-rity and the latter.openness and freedom. In the citadel there is isolation from others, whereas in the wide coun-try there is room for an indefinite number of people seeking God. A spirituality of dwelling seems to be more secure, while a spirituality of seeking seems less constraining. Both offer freedom, but quite different kinds of free-dom. Familiar places offer the freedom of not having to worry where the next meal is coming from, since both caring people and known resources are available. Anne Truitt describes this experience as "the lighthearted feel-ing of being in a litter of kittens.''5 That understanding of freedom is comparable to not worrying about achiev-ing any particular objective, that is, not feeling "bound by an inexorable result [but being] like the birds or lilies ¯. without care." 6 Seeking and Freedom The fifth volume of Thomas Merton's letters, VVitness to Freedom, suggests that there are three stages in his understanding of the growing freedom that is central to a spirituality of seeking.7 In Merton's youth, freedom meant doing whatever he pleased. The second stage came with his entrance into the monastery of Gethsemani in 1941. Merton recalls that, when Brother Matthew met him at the monastery gate, led him through that gate, and then locked it, "I was enclosed in the four walls of my new freedom." s This was the freedom of the citadel, the freedom to do what he was told and to keep the rules. Freedom here became obedience, one portion of the monastic Rule. Review for Religious Keeping the rules is central to both of these stages. In the first, the rules are the problem. In the second, the rules are the solution to the problem. The third stage led Merton to view freedom in a very different light: freedom as an inner reality guided much more from within than from without. In con-templation, Merton realized, we meet God, and in meeting God we discover our deepest freedom. People achieve this third level of freedom, a sense in which their deepest selves are in God and express God, to the extent that they rid themselves of the illu-sions that distort reality for them.9 Merton wrote to Jacques Maritain of these illusions: "There are great illusions to be got ridden of, and there is a false self that has to be taken off. There is still much to be changed before I will really be living in the truth and in nothingness and in humility and without any more self-concern." 10 The road to true freedom is strewn with idols: the false god, the false self, and the false image of God's crea-tures. A false vision of God causes us to see God as one among many, not as absolute, the Hidden Ground of Love, from whom all things come and in whom all things are sustained.ll From this arises the false self, for, instead of being an image of the true God, the self tends to become an image of the false god. Finally, to be fully free, we need to be liberated from the illusions that mark our relationships with other human beings and with the rest of God's creation. What, then, is the freedom that Thomas Merton con-siders essential to this spirituality of seeking? It is the freedom to choose the good and not to choose "freely" In contemplation, Merton realized, we meet God, and in meeting God we discover our deepest freedom. 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials between two realities such as good and evil. Merton argues that "the free man is the one whose choices have given him the power to stand on his own feet and deter-mine his own life according to the higher light and spirit that are in him.''12 He says: "The mere ability to choose between good and evil is the lowest limit of freedom, and the only thing that is free about it is the fact that we can still choose good. To the extent that you are free to choose evil, you are not free. An evil choice destroys freedom . Perfect spiritual freedom is a total inabil-ity to make any evil choice." 13 St. Benedict's Rule and the Spirituality of Seeking The contrast between a spirituality of habitation and a spirituality of seeking is evident in the 6th-century Rule of St. Benedict. The Cistercian monk takes three vows: stability, obedience, and conversatio. Stability emphasizes setdedness, a "permanent and lifelong attach-ment to the monastery of one's profession." 14 Conversatio connotes the changeable life of the spirit. It is "a com-mitment to live faithfully in unsettled times and to keep one's life sufficiently unsettled to respond to the chang-ing voice of God." ~5 It involves a commitment to con-stant progress in virtue. The monk can never say that he has done enough. It is "the vow to respond totally and integrally to the word of Christ, 'Come, follow me,' by renouncing all that might impede one in following him untrammeled, all that might obscure one's clarity of intent and confuse one's resolve."16 As such, it is a source of peace. Peace comes when there is a "willingness to renounce our petty selves and find our true selves beyond ourselves in others, and above all in Christ." 17 Obedience here suggests a commitment to both sta-bility and conversatio. This is an obedience to God in all things. The monk uses this obedience as a means to grow closer to God. It is the obedience of faith in the context Review for Religious of love and discipleship. The wisdom of St. Bernard is that dwelling and seeking, stability and conversatio, are both part of what it means to be human.18 The desire for a dwelling, for a citadel or fortress of solitude, is evi-dent in the fact that people associate God with churches, synagogues, and temples. It is intimated by the feelings that are aroused by memories of the house in which we were raised or by the uprooting we feel when we need to move. A human habitat takes on sacred meaning, becom-ing a home that has a "heart and a soul," an abode that can be lived in with grace and in "the power of bene-dictions." 19 Merton spoke about Gethsemani, especially in his early years there, as a "sign of Christ.''2° Thomas Merton and a Generation of Seekers Americans live in increasingly complex and perilous times. We face conditions that appear to be spinning wildly out of control--terrorism, environmental pollu-tion, worldwide hunger and poverty, AIDS, crime. A spir-ituality of dwelling may appeal to many people, especially when reli-gious leaders promise secure space in which to worship God in famil-iar ways. For some, the purpose of any congre-gation will be to pro-vide a haven amidst the uncertainties of modern times. A spirituality of seeking, however, will appeal to more of the American people, precisely because it lets them choose their own understandings and their own ways of worshiping. For them, the believing community is less a haven than a supplier of spiritual goods and services. Neither style is entirely satisfactory. Both arise out of our conversation with our past. While earlier genera- The believing community is less a haven than a supplier of spiritual goods and services. 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials tions found some peace and security in a spirituality of inhabiting, later ones take pride in being on a spiritual journey. This shift has roots in our immigrant history.21 Until the beginning of World War II, when Thomas Merton entered the monastery at Gethsemani, ethnic groups were still influenced largely by their immigrant experience. They had come looking for a better life. Together they built institutions. They came in search of both physical and spiritual homes. After the war they worked feverishly at the task of building new houses. Levittown came to symbolize that desire, and the Cold War represented a threat to that dream. The decade of the 1950s was to be an ending as well as a beginning in that regard. The world has changed substantially since the pres-idency of Dwight Eisenhower. Change has become a general condition of every part of modern life. The 1950s gave way to an era of racial unrest, political turmoil, and environmental havoc. The children of the 1960s seemed out of control and all too willing to question authority. That changing world is the world that Thomas Merton inhabited and somewhat came to personify. But the later Merton was firmly rooted in the earlier one. That is, his willingness to stand on his own two feet was not the mark of a radical individualist undertaking a ruggedly individualistic spiritual journey. Rather, it was the mark of a "free" human being dedicated to living faithfully in unsettled times as a person firmly in "one dear perpetual place." Stability, for Merton, was rooted in his relationship to his monastic family and his work within the monastery. It was the dedication of one who had come to grips with the allure of worldliness and won, leaving it behind in search of greener pastures. Merton was not claiming an "abiding place," for the Spirit of God did not let him put a mere place above the call of fidelity. His commitment was not simply to a commu- Review for Religious nity, but ultimately to the God who told him, "Come, follow me." A portion of Merton's enduring legacy to the mil-lennial generation rests precisely in his understanding of the Rule of St. Benedict. He cautions the next gener-ation about undertaking a journey for its own sake or in search of illusory goals. Better to live firmly in a com-munity that demands your constant focus on growth. If that involves a journey, so be it. But the journey, the "road trip," is not an end in itself. It needs to serve a greater truth. The challenge of conversatio for today's young people is to be constantly open to going where God takes them and not where the illusory goals of a consumer culture or a warrior culture might lead them. The call of obedience is to cling tightly to God and to the gift of true discipleship. Like the gyre that William Butler Yeats describes in his poem "The Second Coming," Merton struggled in his personal life and on his spiritual journey to find a way for the center to hold, to find a way toward some form of final integration[ The point where stability and conversatio meet was, for him, in obedience. Obedience holds both together, insisting that both are essentials in the spiritual life. Merton not only illuminates the dra-matic upheavals of our recent past, but points a way to our future. Notes ~ Dean Hoge, William Dinges, Mary Johnson SNDdeN, and Juan Gonzales, Young Adult Catholics: Religion in the Culture of Choice (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001); James L. Heft SM and James D. Davidson, "The Mission of Catholic High School and Today's Millennials: Three Suggestions," Catholic Education 6 (June 2003): 410-422; T.P. Waiters, "Millennial Youth: Facts, Figures, and Priestly Vocations," in T.P. Waiters and B. Crawford, eds., The Millennial Generation: Hearing God's Call (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 2001), pp. 15-25; and James D. Davidson et al., The Search for Common Ground: What Unites and Divides American Catholics (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 1999). 63.2 2004 Herron ¯ Merton and a Spirituality for Millennials 2 Robert Wuthnow, After Heaven: Spirituality in America since the 19YOs (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), pp. 3-4. 3 Wuthnow, After Heaven, p. 4. 4 Donald Grayston, Thomas Merton's Rewriting: The Five Versions of Seeds/New Seeds of Contemplation as a Key to the Development of His Thought (New York: Edwin Mellen Press, 1985), p. 371. See also Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1948), p. 33. s Anne Truitt, Daybook, the Journal of an Artist (New York: Pantheon Books, 1982), p. 22. 6 Thomas Merton, "Elias--Variations on a Theme," in his The Strange Islands (New York: New Directions, 1959), p. 233. 7 Thomas Merton, Witness to Freedom: The Letters of Thomas Merton in Times of Crisis (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1994). 8 Merton, Seven Storey Mountain, p. 372. 9 Thomas Merton, Turning toward the World: The Pivotal Years, Vol. 4 of The Journals of Thomas Merton (HarperSanFrancisco, 1996), p. 146. ~0 Thomas Merton, The Courage for Truth: The Letters of Tbomas Merton to Writers (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1993), p. 39. ~1 Thomas Merton, The Hidden Ground of Love: Letters of Thomas Merton on Religious Experience and Social Concerns (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1985), p. 452. ,2 Thomas Merton, The New Man (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Cudahy, 1961), pp. 178-179. 13 Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1962), p. 199. 14 Thomas Merton, The Monastic Journey (Kansas City: Andrews and McMeel, 1977), pp. 66-68. is Wuthnow, After Heaven, p. 6. ~6 Merton, Monastic Journey, p. 110. 17 Merton, Monastic Journey, p. 40. ~8 Timothy Fry, ed., The Rule of Saint Benedict (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982); Brian C. Taylor, Spirituality for Everyday Living: An Adaptation of the Rule of Saint Benedict (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1989); Joan Chittister, Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of Saint Benedict Today (New York: HarperCollins, 1991), Eviatar Zerubavel, Hidden Rhythms: Schedules and Calendars in Social Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981). 19 Mark Twain, cited in Witold Rybczynski, The Most Beautiful House in the World (New York: Penguin Books, 1989), p. 171. Review for Religious 20 Michael Mott, The Seven Mountains of Thomas Merton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1984), p. 208. 2, Oscar Handlin, The Uprooted (New York: Little, Brown, 1951). Class Reunion The women, this fiftieth June after June Graduations, have buried the men: at this Table for ten, there are two husbands, Their two wives, a nun, and a quintet Of well-dressed, well-coiffed survivors, Not one a mere relict, but all Junoesque, Carrying Junoesque handbags at arms" ends. The nun carries nothing. The pair of men Draw together, only to be drawn apart Again by the women who treasure their presence: All that is left as stand-ins for the children. Amiably passed from widow to widow and back To spouse, they are lost, hosts at a table With too many partners, until saved, saved By the nun whose last name no one can Remember, sistering them with shy veiled Smiles, her innocence bridging the gap Between that June and this, seeming fifty Years younger than all the rest. The banquet Is served . Could Sister please bless? Nancy G. Westerfield 63.2 2004 LAURA SWAN Paradox in the Monastery: Lessons from Two Ammas Mwost of us have grown up with family stories that e have "always" been "familiar" with. This is oral tradition. Certain stories get told over and over, recalling the colorful, poignant, even troubling members and events of our families and congregations. Stories are retold among friends, families, and religious communities because the memory of them touches us deeply. They tell us something of who we are and where we have been. Stories unpack the mystery of the present and give us guidance into the future. We pass particular stories on because they have shaken something awake within us and we desire to share this awareness with others. We want to remember the lessons learned. Vowed religious remember stories retold about religious over the centuries along with the stories of their own monasteries and congregations. Which stories are dusted off and retold (and embellished) often says much about who we are and what we struggle with. Stories contain and sustain our cultural values. They assist in Laura Swan OSB, author of The Forgotten Desert Mothers, is prioress of St. Placid Priory; 500 College Street N.E.; Lacey, Washington 98516. Web page www.stplacid.org, and email to lswan@stplacid.org. Review for Religious passing on the traditions of our monasteries, congre-gations, faith communities, and families. In the desert of the early Christian movement, stories were collected, remembered, and passed on. Even today stories preserve the memory and teachings of the desert ascetics, the ammas and abbas who lived at the beginning of Christian monasticism. They sought the desert, a place of intense solitude, in order to focus their pursuit of the Holy One with single-minded devotion and limited distractions. Their goal was union with God. These stories formed an early oral tradition now known as Sayings (apothegms, apophtheg~nata). Side by side with this movement into the desert was a movement toward an evolving Christian monasticism. The desert ascetics were often associated with monastic communities. Eremitic communities were little more than groups of cells in the desert where the seekers occasionally met for teaching, prayer, and exhortation. There was no standard monasticism at this period. Religious life was quite diverse in all its expressions; every monastic community had its own rule and traditions. Two leading figures in the development of monasticism in Egypt were Pachomius (ca. 282-346) of Tabennisi in upper Egypt and Shenoute (ca. 348-464) of Atripe, also in upper Egypt. Writings of their followers, often called Lives, give us insight into the struggles and aspirations of early religious life and of Christianity itself. Many stories from the desert reflect the tensions of diverse expressions of Christianity and tensions between those seeking to articulate statements of belief, as in the Arian and Trinitarian controversies. The Holy Drunken Woman I would like to look at two stories. They confront us with paradox, and their themes are repeated in other stories from the desert) As the first story goes, on the feast 63.2 2004 Swan * Paradox in the Monastery of Abba Apollo, Abba Daniel went to the Upper Thebaid, visiting first the monastic community of men and then the monastic community of women. The community of three hundred women was called the Monastery of Abba Jeremiah, led by a "mother archimandrite.''2 In this story the women "violate" the tradition of not permitting men in their monastery in order to welcome a particularly venerated and beloved elder of the desert. In the tradition of desert hospitality, these monastic women welcome Abba Daniel and his companion into their monastery chapel and wash their feet. The women then bless themselves with the water used. Then they ask for a blessing and a word of teaching or exhortation. As the women seek a wise word from Abba Daniel--a common trait of desert stories--the scene shifts to an anonymous member of the women's monastery who remained away from the rest of the community. This anonymous nun believed to be drunk is asleep in the forecourt of the church, wearing clothing that is in shreds. Abba Daniel asks the mother archimandrite who this nun is, and he is told: "She's a drunk and we don't know what to do with her; we're afraid to take the responsibility of throwing her out of the monastery, and if we let her stay she demoralizes the sisters." 3 The community then redirects Abba Daniel to their refectory for a shared meal. Interestingly we are told that the women served the men simple vegetarian fare while they themselves ate well. When Abba Daniel inquires about this seeming disparity and violation of hospitality, the mother archimandrite responds: "You are a monk, and I served you a monk's food. Your disciple is a monk's disciple, and I served him a disciple's food. We, however, are novices, and we ate novices' food.''4 By example the women have exalted the venerable teacher by lowering themselves in an eccentric yet enticing paradox. Before leaving, Abba Daniel again concerns himself Review for Religious with the "drunken" nun, who was seen sleeping by the toilets. The men had been watching her. As the monastery retired for sleep, the woman rose and stood in a position of tearful supplication or prostrated herself in contrition. Whenever a nun came out to use the toilet, she would throw herself on the ground and snore. Abba Daniel calls the mother archimandrite, who joins him in observing this behavior. Realizing that the nun is merely feigning drunkenness and remembering her own mistreatment of her, the mother archimandrite confesses her own sin with deep conviction and contrition. When the "drunken" nun realizes that she has been discovered, she cleverly steals Abba Daniel's cowl and staff and disappears into the desert. The story concludes with Abba Daniel and the mother archimandrite declaring the "drunken" nun to be one of God's hidden servants. The woman rose and stood in a position of tearful supplication or prostrated herself in contrition. The Woman Who Feigned Madness From Palladius we learn of a women's monastery at Tabennisi in which a member feigned madness and demon possession.5 She was treated with contempt, and the other nuns avoided her company. This "mad" nun voluntarily worked at the most menial jobs in the kitchen. She wore a rag on her head while other members cropped their hair short and wore a cowl. She ate the scraps and leftovers only. She was never angry and never grumbled; she rarely spoke--all in the midst of being treated with contempt. She was insulted, cursed, and loathed by the other nuns. 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery An angel appears to Abba Piteroum, another venerated desert ascetic, inviting him to meet someone more holy then he, and a mere woman at that! The angel sends him to Tabennisi with a challenge: This woman is continually mistreated by her community and yet never takes her heart off God, while our venerable abba dwells in his cell yet wanders about the cities in his mind--a theme found throughout desert teachings, including the Sayings ofAmma Syncletica.6 For his angelic lesson, Abba Piteroum arrives at the women's monastery to see this holy woman, whom the nuns call "touched." She resists meeting him, but is physically forced into his presence. He immediately recognizes her as spiritually mature by an intuition of mind and heart. He falls at her feet seeking her blessing, and she responds by falling at his feet seeking his blessing, both vying to express their humility. The nuns are aghast. Abba Piteroum declares the touched nun to be the community's true spiritual mother. The nuns recognize the truth of his words and immediately begin to confess their mistreatment of this unknown amma and elder. Now elevated to "venerable," she cannot tolerate the place of honor and disappears from the community-- another common theme of the desert. The Paradox Most of us have experienced difficult people--in our congregations and monasteries, in our professional lives, in our faith communities and families. These are the people who know our buttons and hooks well. They have an innate ability to stir up our anger and impatience and frustration. These are the people who can make day-to-day living exasperating and an exercise in profound patience. Our inner reactions to these difficult people tell us more about ourselves than we care to admit. They gift us with all this opportunity for asceticism--and are Review for Religious usually quite unaware of it. While our history as religious seekers and as vowed religious includes eras of health-damaging fasts, hair shirts and nail beds, my Irish forebears standing for long periods in freezing cold water, and whips--these are all self-imposed ascetical practices of dubious value. These false ascetical practices betray our neo-Pelagian and neo- Jansenist hearts.7 Desert ascetics remind us that life hands us authentic asceticism: meetings, deadlines, "smallness" of income in the midst of aging, the ministrations that frail members call for, authority and obedience in tension in our individualistic culture, and difficult community members. Families have difficulty building and sustaining relationships in a culture that undermines those values and commitments. Desert ascetics sought to The desert tradition was intended to force the seeker to face self without distractions, illusions, or barriers. disappear, taking their wisdom with them. We know that the greater challenge is to build healthy communities and a healthy church. To us it seems the easier thing to disappear, to seek hiddenness. Yet the desert tradition was intended to force the seeker to face self without distractions, illusions, or barriers. Today's desert ascetics are, first and foremost, students of the desert and the spiritual difficulty encountered there. The desert teaches them self-knowledge and self-awareness. It teaches them to listen deeply and intensely. Daily they come to know a bit better who they are before God. While growing in awareness of who they are and who they are not, they detach themselves from reputation and any need to 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery defend themselves from those who may attack it. In the old and colorful stories, ascetics go beyond detachment from reputation to distancing themselves from others in order to live alone for God. We savor these stories because they invite us to multiple meanings, because they do not allow us a simplistic answer. Contemporary religious life recognizes--and painfully grows more aware of---fragile, disturbed, and disrupting members. Our call is to handle these troubling members wisely and compassionately, and at times firmly. We try to minimize the disruptions that wounded unruly members are capable of; we listen and ask ourselves what they are here to teach us. Often the stories we have retained and repeat pertain to the graced insights we have been given, the humor and lessons we have learned. Biblical scholar Walter Brueggemann speaks of the capacity of the Psalms to move us from orientation, through disorientation, to a new position of re-orientationf We experience times of disequilibrium, yet when God is there with us beautiful psalms can be birthed. In many ways this experience occurred in the lives of the desert ascetics. They were thrust into disorientation by accepting the gospel and striving to follow its earnest call by living in the desert or monastery. After each new experience of reorientation, the desert ascetics would be thrust again into disorientation through continued ascetical practices that could bring them to ever closer union with God. This rhythm stripped the seekers of all that separated their truest selves from God. The nun who feigned madness and the holy "drunken" woman open up the paradox that troubled members, nonconforming members, and the mentally ill confront us with. These women speak to us of the paradox of ultimate detachment, of letting go of all that keeps us from an intense relationship with God and our truest selves. And they are paradoxes because their pursuit Review for Religious of interior freedom causes disruption for others. These women certainly speak to us of ways that God is found outside our concept of "normal." And yet these women of old both challenge and help us to provide pastoral care for our nonconformist members who struggle with the daily reality of living out their vowed commitment or are mentally ill. We anguish on behalf of troubled members around questions of ability and willingness to live the demands of our life calling. Careful discernment is demanded of us. Is this person confronting a systemic problem in the monastery or community? Is she a prophetic element? What does the fruit of her behavior tell us? These women remind us that our teachers and mentors may come in the form of Balaam's ass--or a holy "drunken" woman or a woman who feigns madness. Indeed our troubling members call forth the strength of compassion and steadfastness and vision in ways we did not ever foresee. Sometimes we discover our best selves-- and sometimes our worst self comes out. These stories clearly teach the paradox of who was actually troubled: the woman or the community? The holy "drunken" woman and the woman who feigned madness behaved in disturbing ways, but were revealed to have pure hearts intent on God, while others manifested conformity and even appropriate conduct (not always the same thing) but inwardly lacked something even to the point of behaving badly. We are presented with a paradox, with a teach-ing/ learning moment. Discernment is necessary. What appears as "bad" is shown to be "good." What is in us-- our purity of heart, or our lack of it--is exposed. We are presented with classic stories of the desert, stories that support the desert goal of apatheia. Apatheia is the interior state in which people no longer have to struggle against inordinate attachments. Through 63.2 2004 Swan ¯ Paradox in the Monastery The desert ascetics taught all to deliberately let go of whatever keeps us from the single-minded pursuit of God. profound interior freedom, they are not pulled hither and yon by various worldly, desires. Apatheia is a mature mindfulness, a sound sensitivity, and a keen attention to one's inner world and to the outer world in which one has been living. Apatheia is purity of heart. The desert ascetics taught all to deliberately let go of whatever keeps us from the single-minded pursuit of God: feelings and thoughts that bind us or others, cravings and addictions that diminish feelings of worth, and attachments to self-imposed perfectionism. The paradoxical questions are: Does my purity of heart support my fellow seekers' own interior journey? Is it inappropriate if my purity of heart disrupts your journey? How do we discern this together? Desert ascetics faced suffering with determination and courage. They understood that suffering often has roots in their own attachments to thoughts, attitudes, motives, relationships, and reputation. Suffering was the avenue towards freedom, and detachment the avenue towards maturity and humility. And yet there are innumerable stories from desert monastic communities--possibly Shenouteand the White Monastery being the most famous--where misbehavior and harshness were too common.9 Benedict of Nursia's own Rule reveals a monastic leader purified by the fire of members' unruly misbehavior and matured by his attempts to curb it. The "mad" nun and the "drunken" woman remind us that the pursuit of holiness is a lifelong journey. Review for Religious As in all good stories, we are not given easy answers to hard questions. Paradox lives on and calls for discernment. We need self-awareness in order to understand what power the stories have and why we repeat them in our dining rooms. The "mad" nun and the "drunken" woman confront us: Who are our teachers? From whom are we willing to learn? At whose feet do we sit to receive the wisdom of desert cell and monastery? Are we alert to unexpected opportunities to learn? What do we do when our presumptions, prejudices, and expectations are exposed and thwarted? How do we discern? With whom do we discern? Who are our wise elders? Notes l I am drawing from Tim Vivian, "Witness to Holiness: Abba Daniel of Scetis," Coptic Church Review 24, nos. 1 and 2 (Spring and Summer 2003): 2-52. See also L~on Clugnet, "Vie et R~cits de l'Abbd Daniel de Sc~t~," Revue de l'Orient Chr~tien 5 (1900): 67-70. See also Witness to Holiness: Abba Daniel of Scetis, ed. Tim Vivian (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, forthcoming). z Archimandrite is a term usually used only in the Orthodox and Coptic Christian traditions, referring to a leader of the monastery. 3 Vivian, "Wimess," p. 36. 4 Vivian, "Witness," p. 36. 5 Primarily I am using Palladius, Lausiac History, ed. and trans. Robert Meyer, Vol. 34 of Ancient Christian Writers series, ed. Johannes Quasten (New York: Newman Press, 1964), pp. 96-98. 6 Palladius, p. 97, and see The Life of Blessed Syncletica by Pseudo- Athanasius, ed. and trans. Elizabeth Bryson Bongie (Toronto: Peregrina Publishing, 1995). 7 Pelagius's name is given to the heresy that denies original sin and claims that human beings can choose the good on their own and thereby effect their own salvation. We see echoes of this in the posunodern North American and western European culture. Jansen's name is given to the heresy that human nature is so flawed by original sin that special grace is needed to follow Christ. His teachings around determinism are quite similar to Calvin's teachings on predestination. Jansenism was a rigorous and austere movement. I suggest that much of our perfectionist drive comes from the Jansenist influence on our culture. 63.2 2004 Swan * Paradox in the Monastery 8 See Walter Brueggemann, Praying the Psalms (Winona: St. Mary's Press, 1986). 9 See Susanna Elm, Virgins of God: The Making of Asceticism in Late Antiquity (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), and Rebecca Krawiec, Shenoute and the Women of the White Monastery: Egyptian Monasticism in Late Antiquity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001). They Who Sow in Tears. These are not hollow hours that the spirit spends in tortured wrestling with a loneliness trenchant and piercing. Even this ache that rends our subtlest calm beyond each day's regress with sharp-toothed gnawing at the being's core is heaven-sent, is calculate, is more than all our orisons, presaging joyous yield. This is the "sowing in tears" within His field. Agnes Margaret Humbert CDP (nursing home, age ninety-one) Review for Religious PATRICK SEAN MOFFETT Viewing Chapters as "Authoring" Our Congregations' Narratives ~hSU~S offers us his story. While walking the streets, lls, and lakesides of his homeland, he authored in Spirited word and action the initial chapters of the defin-ing narrative of Christianity. All eyes were on him in his hometown synagogue as he proclaimed that the words of Isaiah were being fulfilled in their hearing: "The Spirit of God has been given to me and has anointed me. God has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight" (Lk 4:18-19). Chapters have a unique function in the lives of reli-gious congregations and their members and in the wider church. They merit re-viewing and re-hearing from a number of vantage points. Here I present a perspective that emphasizes the storytelling nature of these eccle-sial events. Stories We Live By In the stories people tell about themselves, psychol-ogists find a manifestation of two great motivational forces: agency and communion.~ Agency refers to behav- Patdck Sean Moffett CFC writes again from Christian Brothers, Central Harlem; 74 West 124th Street; New York, N.Y. 10027. I.LJ~K.~'O"~ 63.2 2004 iors that individuals perceive as uniquely their own: I think, I feel, I do. Communion refers to people's percep-tions of relatedness, of belonging, of being integral mem-bers of a group that they experience as us or we. In chapter preparations, various "Emmaus Walks" have gained favor as ways of fostering shared discern-ment. They are making a reappearance, displacing a pre-vious decade's preference for evaluations and sorting exercises' designed to evoke an exchange on personality types or styles of human interaction. Gospel based and focusing on people's unique life journeys, Emmaus Walks facilitate personal narration. Participants are usually assigned a partner randomly. After a time of reflecting by oneself (perhaps on a given theme or a text of Scripture) or checking in on one's own current affect, the pair simply take a walk during which they express what is happening within them. These exchanges are sometimes followed by testimonies within small or large groups or by a period of shared silence and a concluding blessing or hymn. The Emmaus Walk serves as an example of the story-telling which begins anew with the announcement of a coming chapter and characterizes much of what happens throughout the time of chapter. Individual members are invited to reflect on the movement of the Spirit within their individual and. communal experiences and then to share their observations with their sisters or brothers in local, provincial, and eventually congregational contexts. "Time of chapter" is the full period extending from the first announcement through, the preparations, the prechapter gatherings, the formal opening, and the issue and voting sessions to the chapter's formal conclusion. Consecrated Life in a Time of Chapter "Why is this day different from every other day?" The child's question opening the Hebrew Passover ritual Review for Religious might be applied to the time of chapter. Consecrated life in the Christian tradition is nourished by daily atten-tion to the Spirit of Jesus working in and through the individual and the community. A call to chapter is an invitation to each and all of the members to engage in discernment that goes beyond the usual daily praxis. In personal reflection, in personal and communal prayer, in speaking and listening, the focus in the time of chap-ter is our unity within our brotherhood or sisterhood in Christ. Our individual stories are narrated within the communal story. We attend individually to movements of the Spirit that may be intended for the whole community. I attend within myself, within the community, and within the people we are called to serve. I willingly risk asking if there is something in our shared life that I am called at this time to affirm, to question, to challenge, or to propose. I risk accepting a call to prophesy, a call to speak to my brothers or sisters in the name of God. I listen with special attention to those who speak in ways that challenge me, that call me to deeper levels of relationship with them and with our God. I test the spir-its that are stirring among us. I listen with mind and heart, noting particularly what evokes strong signs of passion, dissonance, or consent. Collectively, the members of the congregation under-stand that a general chapter is a defining moment in the ongoing story of their institute. Canon law is quite explicit: In an institute the general chapter has supreme author-ity in accordance with the constitutions. It is to be composed in such a way that it represents the whole institute and becomes a true sign of its unity in char-ity. Its principal functions are to protect the patri-mony of the institute . . . and to foster appropriate renewal in accord with that patrimony. It also elects the supreme moderator, deals with matters of greater importance, and issues norms which all are bound to obey. (c. 631, §i) 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Cbapt~ The New Testament offers what might be considered models of chapter. Stories within a Story The New Testament offers what might be considered models of chapter. Jesus gathers the disciples on the return from their first mission. They share stories marveling at all they had done and taught (Mk 6:30). Jesus chooses a committee consisting of Peter, James, and John to wit-ness the transfiguration. As Jesus approaches the time of his passion, he gathers the full group as friends at a meal in an upper room. He ritualizes his role among them as one who serves, and he enjoins them to follow his example. He speaks with great intimacy of his rela-tionship with his Father and with them, and of their incor-poration into his continuing story. He announces a new commandment revealing the defining characteristics of their agency and their commu-nion. "As I have loved you, you love one another. By this all will know that you are my disciples" On 13:3 4). Several postresurrection encounters are similar. Peace, self-reve-lation, and a shared mission are the recurrent themes. In the Acts of the Apostles, as the members of the early church confront issues of leadership, community management, and inclusiveness, there is a coming together to consider what is happening among them, to recall the story of tlieir mission, and to decide--"we and the Holy Spirit"--where to go from here. Religious hold as a treasure, but also as a memory of painful moments, the chapter stories of their congrega-tions- times of jubilee, special fervor, and renewal, but also of schisms, suppressions, and even denunciations of their founders. In the treasures of Franciscan lore, the gathering of the friars in 1217 at Pentecost continues to suggest Review for Religious images and hopes for new generations of the sons and daughters of the Poverello. He writes to those who were to gather, encouraging them to have a listening heart and to be "cleansed and enlightened interiorly and fired with the ardor of the Holy Spirit": Listen, then, sons of God and my friars, and give ear to my words. Give hearing with all your hearts, and obey the voice of the Son of God. Keep his com-mandments wholeheartedly, and practice his counsels with all your minds. Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; extol him in your works. This is the very rea-son he has sent you all over the world, so that by word and deed you may bear witness to his message and convince everyone that there is no other almighty God besides him. Almighty, eternal, just, and merciful God, grant us in our misery that we may do for your sake alone what we know you want us to do, and may always want what pleases you; so that, cleansed and enlightened interiorly and fired with the ardor of the Holy Spirit, we may be able to follow in the footsteps of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, and so make our way to you, Most High, by your grace alone, who live and reign in perfect Trinity and simple Unity, and are glorified, God omnipotent, for ever and ever. Amen.2 In 1976 Eduardo Cardinal Pironio, in his role as pre-fect of the Sacred Congregation for Religious, offered a vision that anticipated many of the directions that chap-ters have taken during the past quarter century: A chapter is not a mere study meeting, a superficial gathering or a short-lived revision of life. A chapter is essentially a paschal celebration. For this reason it is above all a "penitential" celebration which aims at liv-ing two things deeply: a sincere attitude of conver-sion and a deep and painful search., for God's will in the present necessities of consecrated life. But, since it is a real paschal celebration, it is not just the penitential aspects that interest us in a chap-ter. It is the whole extent of paschal newness, a fresh- 63.2 2004 ness in the church and a good dose of pasc.hal opti-mism. If the chapter has been celebrated well, in poverty, prayer, and brotherly charity, it is a re-cre-ation of the institute, and its spiritual riches overflow upon the church and the world. Because of all this, the chapter is a salvific event, an ecclesial event, a family event. (L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 16 September 1976) For many congregations the "time of chapter" has become increasingly inclusive of individuals and groups with whom they are associated in life and ministry. Coworkers and those served are invited to share in many aspects of the chapter preparations and celebrations. They respond with helpful and often challenging insights, genuine affirmations, and earnest testimonies to possible applications of the congregation's charism. They clearly have a role in the story of the institute. As the chapter moves into its more formal role of supreme authority with respect to the congregation's members and its choice of leaders, the various associates join with the universal church in prayerfully awaiting, outside closed doors, the moment of a new Pentecost. The church, historically the chief beneficiary of these charismatic moments, is most attentive in protecting the members' rights and asserting their duty to discern among themselves the movement of the Spirit. J Planning the Chapter Groups engaged in chapter preparations, when asked what outcomes are most desired, readily speak of a greater unity--unity in who they are and what they are about in the name of the Lord. "By this they will know that you are my disciples." A steering committee approaches the design of a chapter with the guidelines of canon law and with the congregation's constitution, statutes, directives, and cus-toms, but also with aspects of the "Zeitgeist" or cultural Review for Religious climate of contemporary religious congregations. Resources, facilities, travel possibilities, witness, means of communication, inclusiveness, ministerial pressures, and solidarity are some of the issues that have evoked creativity and diversity in the conduct of chapters. The Spirit has been called on to adjust to a great variety of venues. Faith is supported by Jesus' promise that, wher-ever two or three are gathered in his name, he will be around for whatever will be happening. Canon law offers chapter planners two notes: § 1. Participatory and consultative bodies are faithfully to carry out the task entrusted to them, in accordance with the universal law and the institute's own law. In their own way they are to express the care and par-ticipation of all the members for the good of the whole institute or community. §2. In establishing and utilizing these means of participation and consultation, a wise discernment is to be observed, and the way in which they operate is to be in conformity with the character and purpose of the institute. (c. 633) The initial request for community members' sug-gestions about the chapter tends to elicit many concerns about content and process that go well beyond what a large gathering could address within the limited time available, and so standing or ad hoc committees are assigned the tasks of: ¯ sorting through the initial input, ¯ performing or commissioning the research necessary for a more thorough study of stated expectancies and issues, ¯ developing preliminary drafts of papers or pro-posals, and ¯ offering opportunities for the members to share an emerging story in a variety of ways. (Letters, emails, calls, community and intercommunity gather-ings, retreats, liturgies, and assemblies become part of an extended effort to incorporate into the "time of chap-ter" the experiences and issues that may not find space and time in the formal chapter gathering.) 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Chapters A sacred history informs the narrative of our times. All recent retellings of the story of "consecrated life" make reference to defining characteristics articulated in the Vatican II Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life, Perfectae caritatis. Religious hear a call to be faithful as men and women of our times, as followers of Jesus and his gospel, as members of the people of God sharing the mission of the church in the world, and as religious gifted with the charism of our particular congregation? The specification of a "time of chapter" is an invita-tion for members of a congregation to become more intensely engaged in sharing stories about the action of the Spirit in our personal and communal lives. My sisters and brothers encourage me: ¯ to attend to revelation I am receiving for the group, ¯ to share that truth in love, ¯ to attend to the prophecy of my sisters and brothers, ¯ to explore the differences, and ¯ to seek in faith the light, the direction, and the leadership that will guide our shared lives and mission toward the next chapter. When the members of the congregation or their del-egates come together for the formal affairs sessions and elections, it is a time for refinement, affirmation, and actualization of a consensus that has been emerging dur-ing several months of prayerful discernment, prophetic sharing, thoughtful listening, and rearticulation of the group narrative. In the process it is the movement of the Spirit that matters. The concluding chapter sessions, in their distinct moments, are a point of arrival and a new departure. Having clarified a shared vision for the life and mission of the congregation over the next few years, the members select those who will have a leadership role in helping Review for Religious membership remain attentive to the Spirit as together-- membership, leadership, and Spirit--they author the beginning lines of a new chapter in the continuing story of the congregation. The Zeitgeist and Some Dangerous Ideas As men and women of their times, members of reli-gious congregations, especially those working at the mar-gins of society, have a special vantage point for observing the surrounding culture, but also the risk of being affected by it. Much of what once happened only at general chap-ters has become part of congregations' ongoing admin-istration. Instant communication, travel opportunities, greater exposure to global issues, international and inter-cultural exchange, shared ministries, and increased col-laboration with governmental and nongovernmental organizations have broadened our ministerial vision and reduced our corporate response time. In the process, congregations have been exposed to prevalent cultural influences; sometimes they have regressed in search of past glories and a lost sense of security. Marist Father Gerald Arbuckle sounds the alert for "Avoiding Cultural Seduction in General Chapters" (Human Development 23, no. 3, Fall 2002). Recent terrorist activity has heightened awareness and concern about what propels groups toward conflict. Researchers are examining belief systems that seem to be fueling intergroup hostilities. Psychologists Roy and Judy Eidelson, in a review of the growing body of liter-ature, have identified five belief domains particularly important for further study: superiority, injustice, vul-nerability, distrust, and helplessness.4 They suggest a consideration of what happens as these ideas are incor-porated into the self-definition of individuals and then of the group to which they belong. 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing Chapters Extraordinary times offer obstacles and opportuni-ties for evangelization. As in all instances of empathic ministerial response to hurt and evil, we are called to find within our own stories traces of what we seek to address. Our own sinful history attunes us to what makes Congregations sometimes have regressed in search of past glories and a lost sense of security. others particularly vulner-able to prevalent cultural influences, to what the Eidelsons call "dangerous ideas." Religious need not be suicide bombers or look beyond their own congre-gational experiences to have an initial insight into the dynamics of such ideas: "I and we are the superior ones. I and we have been the victims of injustice. I and we are particularly vulnerable. I and we cannot trust those who are not like us. I and we cannot do anything to change the situation." Significant insights become apparent in the telling of our stories. Chapters in an era of world conflict are called to attend afresh to the cry of the poor within and beyond the congregation. Those whose daily ministry affords them intimate interaction with the suffering Christ have stories that can lead to new life in the con-gregation. So can the stories of those who feel the dull pain of not having such opportunities. The challenge of chapter is that of evoking and attending to all these voices and recognizing the promised Spirit within them. From Our Stories to Our Story The current ages of those telling their stories can affect the themes that arise within the group. For exam-ple, a congregation that has numbers of older members and fewer young ones may find itself discussing genera- Revlew for Religious tivity (vs. stagnation) and integrity (vs. despair) and may be left with little time or energy for issues of identity, ministry, and intimacy, issues likely to concern the younger members. Accommodations may need to be made to assure that the group story will include the graces and struggles of all the members, not just the majority. Erik Erikson was in his eighties when he published a revision of his influential description of the life cycle. He focused on the way that personal identity, the "I," becomes ever more fully integrated into a "we." He said, "The sisterhoods and brotherhoods of the 'we' come to share a joined identity experienced as most real.''s A chap-ter needs to hear the congregation story as it is expressed anew in the lives of individuals and groups within the congregation. Not all the results will accommodate tran-scription onto paper or into electronic storage. Certain matters need to be transcribed. Constitutions and statutes govern the lives of the congregation's mem-bers. The approval process needs to be enlightened with all of the knowledge, wisdom, and grace available to those whose vote on specific matters will affect the future of all of their brothers or sisters. Records of valid voting procedures legitimate the transfer and continuity of lead-ership. Accounts and decisions concerning the patrimony of the congregation affect mission feasibilities and mem-bers' welfare, and they require skilled attention. All such matters are guided by canon law and by the law and cus-toms of the congregation. The experience of chapter, of specially shared broth-erhood or sisterhood and of the participants' careful pro-cedures and conscientious voting, is not easy to share with those who were not present. When words no longer adequately describe the lived reality of our being and doing, we struggle to find new words. We have a shared understanding of our collective story, about which words 63.2 2004 Moffett ¯ Viewing ~hapten The experience of chapter is not easy to share with those who were not present. fail, but the story is accurate. We measure other stories against that one. We likewise have intuitions of ourselves and of one another. By such intuitions we know for our-selves and others what is individually appropriate or not. Some words could be mine but not yours, some clothing would be comfortable for you but not me. In music, art, recreation, and so forth, in some way all that we become engaged in carries our unique signatures. Our collective images are shared. We can identify what is Franciscan, Dominican, Jesuit, typically Christian Brother, Mercy, or CND. Every document that is "ours" will have to fit within the domain of this collective vision. No document will ever capture it fully. As most of us sur-vive quite well without a definitive autobiography, so too our congregations. While described in a plethora of his-torical documents, as long as the congregation lives in its members, the story remains "in process." On the mountain Peter offered to capture in a build-ing project the brilliant manifestation of Jesus with Moses and Elijah. John probably had in mind a first draft of the account he never needed to write. James? For cen-turies great numbers of pilgrims to Compostela in Spain have touched into stories of this apostle's own manifes-tations. They speak of conversion and special graces. Yet all we know with some degree of certainty is that this James earned the crown of martyrdom in Jerusalem early in the story of the infant church (Ac 12:1). The words of Jesus reported in the synoptic accounts of his transfiguration suggest that each of the chosen delegates took from the mountain something to be cher-ished unspoken until it was time to proclaim the Son of Review for Religious Man's resurrection. Their privileged vision was not of something that was to come, but rather of that which always is. Together they beheld for a moment the light of the one God in whom they live and breathe and have their being. Such are our chapter stories. Notes t Dan P. McAdams, The Stories We Live By (New York: Wm. Morrow and Company, 1993); David Bakan, The Duality of Human Existence: Isolation and Communion in Western Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1966); P.S. Moffett, "Promoting Agency among Children and Adolescents at the Margins" (invited address, American Psychological Association), Journal of Pastoral Counseling 30 (1995). 2 Taken from The Writings of St. Francis of Assisi, trans. Benen Fahy OFM (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), pp. 104 and 108. 3 Perfectae caritatis, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; Instruction on Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate, Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, 31 May 1983; lHta consecrata, apostolic exhortation of Pope John Paul II, 1996; Ytarting Afresh from Christ: A Renewed Commitment to Consecrated Life in the Third Millennium, CICLSAL, 19 May 2002. 4 Roy J. Eidelson and Judy I. Eidelson, "Dangerous Ideas: Five Beliefs That Propel Groups toward Conflict," American Psychologist 58, no. 3 (March 2003). s Erik Erikson, The Life Cycle Completed (London: W.W. Norton and Co., 1982). May Drunk on the wild plum, heady with endless stretches of bluebells surrendered to the woods (such are spring's goods, not to sell, but to sate novice eyes so long accustomed to the late gray winter's moods); all, all is given from these places where you, 0 Trinity, hide your faces. Eileen Haugh OSF 63.2 2004 J. THOMAS HAMEL Our Lady's Presence in the Spiritual Exercises gnatian tradition The first mention of our Lady in the Spiritual Exercises is in the first exercise of the First Week. "Preamble 1. This is the composition, seeing the place., the material place where the object I want to contemplate is situated . By 'mate-rial place' I mean, for example, a temple or a mountain where Jesus Christ or our Lady is to be found, according to what I want to contem-plate." ~ Is it by chance that the two examples given are a temple and a mountain? Major events took place in the temple (finding the lost twelve-year-old there) and, twenty years later, at the mount called Olivet (Jesus' ascension)--and who can doubt that our Lady was among the disciples there? (Lk 24:50-53; Ac 1:12-14). As a young child Mary was presented in the temple accord-ing to legend, even as later she presented her newborn to the Lord (Lk 2:22). Temple and J. Thomas Hamel SJ does spiritual direction and lives at College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. Review for Religious mountain bring to mind what scripture scholars have long noted, that Mary was the only human person pre-sent to Jesus' life from beginning to end. The same is eminently true of her presence in the Spiritual Exercises. The first contemplation of the first day of the Second Week, on the incarnation, not only embraces the sacred event itself, but even invites retreatants to speak to "the eternal Word [so altogether newly] incarnate" in Mary's womb (§109). All of a sudden her womb is sacred space, a living temple. On the same first day, the presence and activity of our Lady is highlighted in the three points on our Lord's birth (§264). The second point simply quotes St. Luke: "She bore her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes and laid him in a manger" (Lk 2:7). In the third point the angelic choir sings "Glory to God in the highest" for Mary and Joseph and the child lying in the manger. (Ignatius conveniently forgets that the angels sang to the shepherds.) Putting her Son in a manger is our Lady's way of presenting him to the world. We can assume that Ignatius thought of that, and that the thought included a loving gaze at Jesus' entire life, the Life of the world. So aware of Jesus' birth in utter poverty, Ignatius recalls the arduous journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Ignatian contemplation is the exercise of being present first of all to details of some material things: the width of a road, its length, its smoothness or roughness, the width and depth of a cave, the size of a manger or trough, the height of a hill like Calvary. Imagined details about the route to Bethlehem invite us to be aware of the child pre-sent in Mary's womb on that long and arduous journey-- a prelude to journeys from Bethlehem to Egypt, and back to Galilee, later to the Jordan, to Samaritan territory, to Judea and Calvary. Jesus in the manger under his mother's care was the visible beginning of our finding our Savior 63.2 2004 Hamel ¯ Ou~ Lady's Pre~ence present everywhere in the world. Such is the way of the Holy Spirit at work in Ignatian contemplation. Our Lady's offering of her Son to the shepherds and to the world was a revelation, the source of Ignatius's own mysticism of apostolic gervice. Ignatian retreatants are invited to serve the needs of the mother, of Joseph, and the servant girl (§114) and, following the contem-plative gaze of Ignatius, are led on a journey that includes Christ carrying his cross to Calvary (§ 116). The mys-tery of the birth of Christ our Lord, or rather the mys-teries surrounding his birth, glow with something mystical. How else explain what Ignatius did when it was no longer possible for him and his first companions to go to the Holy Land? Thirteen months after his ordination to the priesthood, he celebrated his first Mass in the Church of St. Mary Major on 25 December 1538 at the altar of the manger in which Christ was said to have been placed. Once again Ignatius was reliving that sacred moment when our Lady placed her Son in the manger. Was the manger all along a kind of mystical manger which later prompted that long-standing desire of Ignatius that our Lady be pleased to place him with her Son? It is no sur-prise that her response was the mystical vision of La Storta in November 1537: He had resolved to remain a year, once he became a priest, without saying Mass, preparing himself and praying our Lady to be pleased to put him with her Son. And being one day

Issue 58.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1999. ; for rel igious Ch6sfar~ He6tages arid Cer~ter~p~rary L~v~r~g MARCH.APRIL 1999 o VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondenbe with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; Xa, Tashington, D.C. 20017 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. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission, is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 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 Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL. 1999 ¯ VOLUME 58 ¯ ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 118 137 communal commitment: a symposium Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation Michael Downey offers a five-step tour of the culture horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities the U.S. culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of vowed religious life. Community Living." Beginning the Conversation Doris Gottemoeller RSM opens up a discussion on the meaning of community living in regard to its theological base, its spirituality, the role of leadership, and special challenges today. 150 paschal mystery The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses Leon McKenzie proposes that the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit provide credibility for Jesus' resurrection. 158 168 From Woundedness to Union Cynthia Bourgeault presents an explanation of the psychology of Centering Prayer. On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark Pamela A. Smith SSCM reflects on her own life in the context of Mark's Gospel: What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? Review for Religious 175 184 the vowed life Friendship and Celibacy: Seeing Beauty from a "Holy Distance" Brian J. PierceOP makes the point that we need new stories and new language to affirm and celebrate the vow of chastity and the goodness and beauty of human and sexual love. Poverty: Now You See It, Now You Don't Elissa Rinere CP surveys the various meanings and implications for living the vow of poverty professed by men and women religious. 195 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1998 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fernandez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 211 Canonical Counsel: Visitation 217 Book Reviews March-April 1999 prisms How are we to observe a year dedicated to God the Father at a time when we desire to be more sensitive about sexist phrases and patriarchal soundings? The male imaging of God, both in our theology study and in our liturgical services, has come under criticism from many Christians, often stimulated by the groundbreaking work of feminist theologians--no matter that Jesus referred most often to God as Father (though he also tised other image words or examples, of course, including feminine ones). Mthough the Hebrew word Abba is used only once in the Greek Gospels--in Mark--and seldom in Paul's epistles, the significant intimacy of this word (and its relevance to Jesus' teaching the prayer "Our Father") has made it central to the Christian understanding of the relationship of ourselves to God-v-One upon whom we can call, by our being baptized into Jesus, with his love-word Abba. God, for us Christians, is above all personal. We talk to God as a persbn. In our everyday life we learn early on to call out to "Mom" and "Dad," but we do not find ourselves saying "O Parent." Parent, much as it blends masculine and feminine, is not used in personal address. So parent and other ways of avoiding the Jesus-chosen name "FathEr" do not tend to keep us true to our Christian faith. Nor is it helpful to use activity names in our sharing in the trinitarian life since all God's activities outside the :Trinity are the work of the one God. In addition, the activity titles of creator, redeemer, and sanctifier are not the warm personal words that elicit and express a love-response on our part. Review for Religious Father Walter Ong SJ, in his book Fighting for Life, makes a helpful observation about how appropriate the use of the Father word is for God. The father metaphor seems more apt for God even than a mother metaphor because of the very way that God relates to us, A mother in carrying a child in her womb for nine months knows well the meaning of "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh." In ordinary circumstances, a mother knows and feels how much this child (baby) belongs to her. A father's experience is necessarily different. A father must lay claim to a child. Leaving aside our contemporary scientific DNA testing for paternity, a father has to step forward and begin the bonding process with a baby boy or girl whom he believes is, and accepts as, the one he "fathered." We Christians understand that God steps forward and, in and through Jesus the Christ, claims us as his children. We are "daughters and sons of God," albeit "adopted" because Jesus alone merits the title "the only-begotten Son." True, we are God's creation, but we are not of the "substance" (like "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh") of God. We are claimed by God in Jesus; we are adopted. The gospel metaphor of Father, then, in a transcendent way Of choosing and claiming, has given us the relationship we rejoice in--daughters and sons who rightfully call upon God with Jesus' word Abba. God expends great energy all our life long to convince us that we are beloved ones. Perhaps we glimpse the importance of God's choosing us as beloved in Christ when we consider the criteria of the apostle. When the Eleven were considering how to fill the place of Judas after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, they used the criterion of having been present from the time of Jesus' baptism by John at the Jordan. For all of us followers of Jesus, he shares with us in our baptism what had been the consolation of his own in the Jordan event. We are taken into ¯ the circle of God's inner .life of trinitarian love. A year dedicated to God the Father help~ us appreciate more fully the graced relati6nship which we Christians, through Jesus Christ and our Scriptures and tradition, have been given the privilege of understanding--along with the ha.ppy responsibility of making our response. In balancing our images of God after the manner of Jesus, we Christians hold fast to the fact that our most basic response is our praying to God as "Our Father." David L. Fleming SJ March-April 1999 MICHAEL DOWNEY Luminous Traces: The Inbreaking Spirit amid Cultural Fragmentation "Peggy O'Donnell is dying." My mother was shocked when I, a first grader at Most Blessed Sacrament School, relayed the news. Peggy was a high school senior at West Catholic. She lived down the block from us in our Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. "What?" my mother asked incredulously. "Peggy O'Donnell looks just fine to me. There's nothing wrong with her." Over the course of the next few hours, my mother found out the real story via the neighborhood grapevine. "Peggy O'Donnell is leaving the world," Mother told me, "but she's not dying." But what was I to think when Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister, "Peggy's leaving the world"? Peggy did leave the world of that Irish Catholic village in southwest Philadelphia. She went to Rosemont, way out in the s~burbs, to the Convent of the Society of the Holy Child Jesus, a different world indeed from what was known to us in the city. But, however different the Michael Downey is professor of systematic theology and spir-ituality at Saint John's Seminary in Camarillo, California, and is theologian to Roger Cardinal Mahony. He edited the award-winning New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality; his most recent publication is Textual Mysticism: Reading as a Basic Spiritual Discipline. This article is adapted from the presentation given at a symposium at VCernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. He may be addressed at the Archdiocesan Catholic Center Office; 3424 Wilshire Boulevard; Los Angeles, California 90010. Review for Religious world of Peggy O'Donnell and the others out in Rosemont might be from ours, and whatever these words about "leaving the world" might have meant, deep down inside I knew that Peggy O'Donnell was still going to be in the world, part of the world. She was not dying. My mother told me so! I open with this cameo of Peggy O'Donnell because it evokes images of leaving one world and embracing another, shedding the skin of one culture so as to embrace the meanings, purposes, and values of another. But "leaving the world," moving from one world into another, shifting from the culture of an Irish Catholic village within a city to that of a convent in the suburbs of Philadelphia in 1958, was a very different sort of challenge from what religious face today amid the culture, the world, in which they live. I have been invited by the coordinators of this syrr~.posium on religious life to offer a tour of the cultural horizon, pointing out the challenges and opportunities our culture presents to the communal commitment that lies at the core of most expressions of the vowed religious life. I shall proceed in five steps. First, I shall address the question What is culture? (Culture, like experience or community, is a term much used in religious discourse today, but often it lacks precision.) Second, I shall identify certain shifts that have taken place in our culture, making the world a very different place from the world in which many religious were formed as children, as adolescents, and as novices. Third, I shall describe features of this culture that pose serious challenges to commitment of any kind, specifically commitment to a particular community of persons. Fourth, I shall suggest that cultural shifts, often seen negatively, can be good news precisely because they make room for something else to come into being, providing occasion for the inbreaking Spirit in the gift of hope. I shall spell out the conditions or attitudes necessary for receiving this gift of hope in our very dark age. And, fifth, I shall suggest a reconfiguration of hope for religious life and communal commitment in terms of a shift from community to communion. Culture Culture and the world are roughly approximate terms. The story of Peggy O'Donnell is intended to be a gende reminder that, in the not so distant past, religious life was another world, an alternative culture. When Nancy O'Donnell said of her sister Peggy that she March-April 1999 Downey * Luminous Traces, was leaving the world, what she meant was that she was leaving one culture for another. The word culture refers to the various forms by which meanings, purposes, and values are expressed and impressed. Culture is a language. Language here is much more than verbal communication; it is expressivity, and human beings express themselves in manifold ways. Human beings are of necessity always expressing themselves, "speechifying"--and, when they do, they do so in culture. Culture is the whole constellation of means by which human beings expres~ what is deepest and most important to them, for example, about family and progeny, social arrangements and sexual taboos, and how to deal with illness and aging. They do this through art, literature, and ritual. Culture includes the ethos of a people, the central story or vision that gives direction to their lives, the principles and governing concerns by which they gain a sense of order and cohesion in their lives. Culture encompasses economic systems, political structures, and the laws that give shape to a sense of right and wrong. Also included are the many ways in which human beings strive to express their perceptions of beauty in music, dance, architecture, and the fine arts. Because human beings perceive and pursue the gift and task ofself-expression in different ways, cultures differ, sometimes so much so that they appear irreconcilable. In other words, human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. Wherever there are human beings, there is culture. Culture is second nature to humans. Culture is what human beings do with the "stuff" of the created order, the natural world, what might be referred to here as first natui'e. Human beings a{e always taking this givenness of the natural world, this first nature, and doing something with it. The created world in which we live is the "stuff" that is taken and shaped, created. We extend and transform this givenness in accord with particularly human meanings, purposes, and values. An apple is part of nature, but making apple pie is part of culture. While daffodils belong to nature, arranging a bouquet of them is part of culture. Precious metals are mined from nature, but exchanging and wearing rings is a cultural phenomenon, expressing love and fidelity and a whole range of related meanings. Solid marble is quarried from nature's Side. When slabs of it are carefully Review for Religious designed and skillfully chiseled, the result may be a contribution to culture. There are alphabets and dictionaries, but a poem or novel is something else again. There are musical notes, but the ordering and arranging of them in a distinctive musical composition is of a completely different order. It belongs to the order of culture, second nature to human beings. Any cultural form is expressive of multiple meanings, not just one. Flowers may be arranged in a bouquet and set in a place of worship as an expression of reverence and offering. They may be sent from a lover to the beloved as an expression of affection. Flowers are sent to people who are ill in the hope of cheering and strengthening their spirits. And they may be given in times of sorrow and loss as an expression of sympathy. All these are uses of the created order, of first nature, by human beings whose nature is to talk, to "speechify." So semantically laden is the cultural phenomenon of apple pie that, for many people in the United States, to be told that someone is "as American as motherhood and apple pie" precludes need of further description of the person's character and identity. But culture is about much more than nosegays, apple pies, wedding rings, and skillfully crafted marble edifices. As second nature to human beings, culture includes everything involved in the task of being and becoming fully human. Culture, then, refers to the whole sociosymbolic order in which humans live and by which they receive and shape meaning and identity. Here it must he recognized that the extension and transformation of nature for human purposes has a checkered history. Not every cultural expression advances truly human purposes. Not all humanpurposes are worthy as such, that is, simply because they are human. And not every value that human beings perceive as such is in fact so. From a Christian perspective, it is prayerful attention to the Spirit of God present in the world and moving human hearts toward God that opens up, orients, and often reorients culture to authentic human meanings, ptirposes, and values. An observation on "American culture" before proceeding. There is no longer one unified and unifying American culture, if ever there was one. In the Archdiocese of Los Angeles, Mass is Human beings create or participate in creating worlds of meaning, value, and purpose by means of culture. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces celebrated every Sunday in over forty languages and dialects. At Hollywood High School, students speak more than eighty languages and dialects. Whatever may be the sense of "American" character and identity communicated in the rhetoric of "motherhood and apple pie," does this image speak any longer to such a range of people? When, in such contexts, inherited cultural forms begin to fragment, it should come as no surprise. It is no less surprising when traditional forms of the vowed religious life become semantically empty. They no longer "speechify" the meanings, purposes, and values that are perceived and pursued as central to the vowed religious life. Culture: Coming Apart at the Seams Using an image from life in southern California, we may liken our culture to a house situated on a fault line.There is a fissure running down the center of the treasury holding what is dearest to us. The culture in which we were formed seems to be coming apart at the seams. There is seepage and spillage everywhere. Bad news. But the good news is that inherited, deeply cherished cultural forms may be giving way so that something else may come into being. To speak of culture entails talking about 'its prevailing wo~'ldview. What was the worldview in which most United States religious were formed? What was the dominant view of human life and history? What was the view of the relation between God and the world that, I suggest, is now giving way to new ways of perceiving and being? ~ First is the boundless confidence in the capacity of the human mind to know everything by means of the so-called scientific method, an affirmation of the power of reason (very narrowly understood) to think its way through just about anything. Such a lofty understanding of the powers of reason began to wane once appropriate attention was given to the facts of history, to the enormity of human suffering, which baffles and disorients even the most serene exercise of reason.2 Second, in such a worldview, there is the conviction that individuals can make and shape themselves. Together with this, there is an unprecedented affirmation of individual rights and liberties. This affirmation of individual rights and liberties enshrined in the U.S. Constitution can often eclipse the pursuit of a common good. Review for Religious Third, with roots long, deep, and strong in Christian history, a marked dualism characterizes this worldview. In such a perspective, ¯ all reality in every sphere of life is divided into two parts, with the implication that one is superior to, and dominant over, the other: mind over matter, objective over subjective, intellect over affect, the analytical over the intuitive, prose over poetry, God over humanity, humanity over nature, male over female, white over black, yellow, red, and brown, clergy over lay, American and Western European over the Third World, rich over poor, speech over silence, the strong and powerful over the wounded and the weak. The fourth feature of the worldview which shaped many of us is perhaps the most problematic of all. History is viewed as inevitably progressive. Change is always improvement, and whatever is new is better. Progress is regarded as inevitable and therefore beyond moral adjudication. Whatever can be done must be done and therefore should be done. The horrors of history, the sufferings of individuals and of whole peoples, no matter how large and how utterly incomprehensible, are seen as unseemly wrinkles in the unfolding of an inevitably better future. The sentiment lingers. It is not at all uncommon to hear from undergraduate students something like: "God must have had a plan for eliminating six million Jews. He permitted it to happen to the Jews in order to teach them a lesson for their own benefit and the benefit of humanity. We just have to accept it." Here, no matter what happens, God is in charge, controlling the universe like an absolute monarch. Today we stand at a juncture. In starker terms, we are trying desperately to straddle a fault line. The inherited worldview and cultural contours briefly described above are crumbling. Our framework is in fragments, but much of it is still in our marrow. We are reluctant to relinquish this way of perceiving and being in the world. We are slow to give up. Even though we recognize that it no longer rings true, we nonetheless cling to it tenaciously because we are not yet altogether clear about what is still coming to be. From the perspective of the student of Christian spirituality, the worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. The worldview that so shaped us has failed to satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. March-April 1999 A Downey * Luminous Traces The construal of the human being as a self-made self and the unprecedented affirmation of the superiority of reason and of individual rights and liberties are not easily reconcilable with present modes of perceiving and being in the world. In contemporary Christian spirituality, there is a deeper realization that the human person is not to be defined principally as a rational animal with separate faculties of intellect and will, a composite of body and soul often at odds with one another.-Rather the person is a whole, a being defined by heart, affectus, affectivity--the capacity to be touched and drawn into relationship and interpersonal communion with another, others, and God. More importantly, people today live with an uneasy sense that there is no longer a big picture. For many people, deeply religious people no less, the world does not hang together, the center does not hold, in the way it was once thought. This puts a bold question mark before our understanding of God and the nature of God's relation to the world. God the all-powerful monarch, manipulating and controlling the universe, is simply beyond belief. It is precisely this understanding of God that cannot be sustained, and with it the worldview that rests upon it. Further, efforts to reach even the slightest measure 0fagreement on the nonnegotiable elements of a coherent worldview seem futile. Consequently, no commonly held values provide a sense of shared purpose. As but one example, over the course of fifteen years of undergraduate teaching, I would ask students year by year: "What do you value most of all? Is there anything that you would be willing to give your life for, perhaps even to die for?" Invariably there was reticence, indeed reluctance~ in the face of my question. But eventually there seemed to be some measure of agreement that "family" is what is to be valued above all else. But, when pressed to speak about the nature o~ "family," all thirty-five or more students would have different understandings of what "family" means and why this slippery term designates or suggests a value at all. It has become increasingly difficult to arrive at a common-sense understanding of "family" or of what "family values" might be. In addition to the loss of a big picture, there is a growing conviction that the future is not inevitably progressive. Today there is clearer recognition that change is not always for the better and that the future is not necessarily brighter. That is to say that history is riddled with interruption, disorientation, and a sense of randomness, indeed chance? Not everything that happens should Review for Religious be assigned to God's providence. As a variation on the theme of a rather tasteless bumper sticker: Things just happen! But the interruptive character of history, thought on first reading to be irreconcilably at odds with God's providential plan, is not of necessity so and may in fact be more in keeping with biblical understandings of God's action in history, specifically in the person of the Christ, than the view of God's providence characteristic of the inherited worldview now passing away.4 Much of what has contributed to our fundamental sense of meaning, purpose, and value is now a shambles, no matter how much we care to think otherwise: family, neighborhood, political and economic institutions, and religious life as we have known it. Efforts at retrenchment and restoration may meet with ostensibly satisfactory results in the short term, but, no matter how big the shoulders trying to hold up these and other elements of a culture-in- collapse, another course is required, not simply desirable. Rather than trying to hold up what can no longer stand on its own, what is called for is a clearing of the house, making room, so that something new can come into being. What is coming to be may find no clear precedent in human or Christian history. And it is precisely because it finds no clear precedent in Christian history that it may come into being by the presence and power of the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Christ. As these outer worlds of meaning and purpose and value splinter, fragment, and shatter, there is a strong tendency to turn inward for stmething reliable. Many currents in spirituality today are characterized by self-absorption, self-preoccupation, and self-fixation. Spirituality is thought to be about interiority, often to the exclusion of the wider spheres of life. The movement inward appears to go faster and faster, if not deeper and deeper, as outer worlds of meaning continue to collapse with increasing rapidity. All of this seems like very bad news, but it need not be. The hallmark of our age is the self-emptying of forms because inherited cultural forms cannot hold God. And, as they are emptied and found wanting, perhaps there will once again be room enough for the God of constant coming, whose gift always and everywhere overspills all our efforts to lock it in, pin it down in tightly knit thought forms, theological systems, and patterns of religious living. There is, then, a reason for the hope that lies within us (see 1 P 3:15): the Christ who is always and everywhere drawing us forward cannot be chained by cultural forms and worldviews, which, March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces however adequate they may be in the service of the truth, are always necessarily limited, partial. They cannot contain God. They are unable to hold the fullness of God. Recall that culture is language and is second nature to us. But no matter how deeply we are indebted to our inherited cultural forms, to the language which is second nature to us, God's giving overspills any and all mediation. Today there is a deepening sense that God is incomprehensible mystery, beneath and beyond all our efforts to dissect, scrutinize, and systematize. From the perspective of a student of Christian spiritual and mystical traditions, even as we are stalled at a cultural crossroads, we are being invited to enter more deeply into the apophatic way, to be educated in the Spirit's school of unknowing, to proceed on the path toward a dazzling darkness at the heart of which is the One whose name above all names is not God.5 For even the name God is no proper name for the One whose name beyond and beneath all naming is Love. And Life. And Light. Even and especially in the darkness. The Rhetoric of Culture: Choice over Commitment Though something new is coming to be, we are still dogged by elements of that earlier worldview that pose serious obstacles to growth and development in the spiritual life in general and the vowed religious life in pa(ticular. These may be thought of as deep wounds inflicted by our culture, whatever one may care to say about its merits. More specifically, they constitute sometimes seemingly insurmountable hurdles to comm. itment of any sort. In the not too distant past, it was common enough to give a good bit of attention to the so-called "enemies of the spiritual life." In approaches to religious formation, "particular friendships" were often viewed in such terms. Today there are indeed enemies of the spiritual life, but they are quite different from those identified in earlier approaches to formation. They must be tackled by a different strategy. As I see it, the three major obstacles that must be hurdled in any approach to commitment, specifically a lifelong commitment to a community of persons, are narcissism, pragmatism, and unrelenting resdessness.6 The first is related to the disproportionate emphasis in the culture on individual rights and liberties. We are inclined to think of ourselves first and finally as individuals who choose; or elect, to be in relationship. The self is thought to be the first and final Review for Religious arbiter, not only of meaning, purpose, and yalue, but also of all reality. Individual fights and liberties and the ability of individuals to make and shape themselves by choosing from among a multiplicity of options is, in the minds of many, of preeminent value. When traveling in different parts of the world, I often ask what impression others have of the culture or cultures in the United States. Invariably the response is something akin to: "You are very practical people. You are achievers. You get things done. You are doers." Indeed we are a practical people, pragmatists. In the mind of the pragmatist, the truth is what works. And, if it works, it must be true. We have become the people of the bottom line. We are governed by a preoccupation with outcomes, assessments, and five-year plans. We all too readily think of ourselves and others in instrumentalist, pragmatic terms. Created goods, even human lives, have become commodities. Everything is considered in terms of what gets achieved, done, accomplished, produced to satisfy the needs of some consumer. It may be useful here to recall: "If you are what you do, when you don't, then you're not." A cameo may convey my meaning here. On a visit to Santa Barbara on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I strolled from the beach to the caf~ for a cup of one of those designer coffees. Seated near me were two young women, perhaps seniors in high school or entry-level undergrads. They were hunched over huge textbooks with graphs and charts of some sort, reminiscent of those in my sophomore-year geometry book. Basking in the splendor of Santa Barbara's light while sipping away at their Starbucks, the two were studying very hard--judging from their knitted brows. In due course one looked up and said to the other in a tone at once exasperated and apodictic: "Look, if it's not common sense, it's wrong!" Hers is the voice of an age impatient with the speculative, unwilling to stay with an idea for a long time, unable to engage in the discipline of thinking something through, lacking the endurance to follow an argument to its logical conclusion. Unless it cashes out, has empirically verifiable results, some clear practical merit, why be bothered? Speculation, as in the commonplace "ivory-tower speculation," has become a nasty word. We are a people who are unrelentingly resdess. We are. hungry for experience. We live in a culture in which we are urged to keep on going, exploring options, choosing from among a myriad of possibilities. Another cameo: For me as a child in that Irish Catholic March-April 1999 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces village within the city of Philadelphia, the trick was to convince Mother and Dad to allow us one half hour in front of the television, after we had been out to play and after we had done our homework. If permitted to watch an evening TV program, my sister and I would sit glued to the television set for thirty minutes without budging. Now when Mikey, my twelve-year-old nephew, walks in the door of my home, I remind him, "No surfing in my house!" It is not the surfboard I have in mind, of course, but the TV remote control. Mikey has learned that in my home he is welcome to watch a TV program, for much longer indeed than half an hotir, but for him this takes real discipline. It is altogether different from channel surfing-~staying with this station for two minutes and that one for three minutes and the next one until it is time for ~he commercial. Mikey's TV wanderlust is not uncommon, and it is symptomatic of a much deeper wandering, squandering perhaps, of the human spirit. Unrelenting restlessness is manifest in many expressions of spirituality today. We tend to move from one thing to the next, from one approach to spirituality to another, first taking some tips from the Ignatian school, then making a retreat at a Benedictine monastery, perhaps a little lec~io divina. The "spiritual quest" can become little more than a cruise down the spirituality superhighway, gobbling up soundbite supplies of spiritual wisdom that "work for me." If it does not work for me, then I move on. Narcissism, pragmatism, restlessness! These are the enemies of the spiritual life today. They are cultural wounds, and you and I carry them with us in making, cultivating, and sustaining our religious commitments. They are in our bloodstream. We think of the individual as first and final in a way that blinds us to the relational matrix of all life.7 We are numb to the simple truth that absolutely everything is related to everything else. We are pragmatists to the core. ~Fhe fact that monks continue to rise at three in the morning to pray to God in the dark long before the dawn is virtually incomprehensible, in our culture. What good does that do? What difference does it make? What are the outcomes, the results, of praying in the dark? Why pray at all? Why live in a monastery? At least go out and do something with yourself in the real world! Make a contribution to society! Make a difference! Do something! Anything! And we are restless, indeed driven. In a culture in which the rhetoric of choice has rendered mute the language of commitment, Review for Religious many of us find it hard to stay at anything for very long. Our age is characterized by impermanence and provisionality. We find it difficult to stay with anything, and be really alive and passionate about anything, day after day, week by week, year by year. Diversion is what is constant. We move on when there seem to be no immediate results. We resist going back to the book every single day, listening long and lovingly to that Word beneath and beyond all the words, staying with it long enough to hear the beating of the heart of God beneath and beyond the cacophony and clutter of our own making, staying still long enough to find ourselves in God and there to rest--even and especially when such staying does not "work for me" or "do" any good whatsoever. The Inbreaking Spirit As cultural forms collapse around us, the appropriate response lies not in trying to hold on to them or hold them up by sheer force of will or by fuzzy references to the will of God. Nor does it lie in accommodation to the individualism, pragmatism, and unbridled restlessness characteristic of our age. It may lie in the cultivation of forms of life more in keeping with the person of Christ, the presence and power of the Spirit, and the apocalyptic sting of the gospel. Just as Peggy O'Donnell left the world in 1958 and embraced an alternative culture, the new world of Rosemont, so too the future of religious life lies in patterns of living that stand in marked contrast to a culture-in-collapse now increasingly recognized to have been a bad bill of goods. Neither is ready retrenchment or hasty rebuilding an appropriate response amid cultural fragmentation. Rather, the more effective strategy would be to create space, provide room, for the coming of something that is not of our own making. This calls for deep reserves of hope. It is precisely at the moment when our own efforts fail, when we are unable to .make and sustain our commitment, that the Spirit comes in the gift of hope--breaking in on our willful efforts to hold together and hold up what is broken, even and especially our deepest selves. In our times, isn't hope the most important virtue? And the most necessary? And the rarest? We live in a disruptive and disorienting age. On every street, behind every other door, lives someone who is deeply disheartened if not actually despairing. This may be brought on by people's awareness of massive and March-Aprll 1999 --129 Downe~ ¯ Luminous Traces meaningless death and the randomness of violence, by the onset of early illness, by the loss of a loved one or a job or a sense of meaning and value--or the loss of cherished ways of perceiving and being in the world. Our inability to relinquish deeply ingrained patterns of narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness signals a crisis of hope and beckons us to deeper levels of willingness to be open to this gift. What exactly is the hope that breaks in, amid the shambles, as the gift of the Spirit? As I see it, there is nothing more important to the human being than hope. People can live without faith, and many do. In our own day, certainly, many people live without explicitly religious faith, and evidence of loveless lives abounds. But people simply do not live without hope. They cannot. Hope is "the very center of a human being.''8 Though we need hope more than anything else in life, little has been written about it.9 Compared with faith and love, hope has been given little attention in the traditions of Christian theology and spirituality. Hope may be likened to the proverbial middle child, the neglected one among the theological virtues, sandwiched in between faith, which makes the first move, and love, which is preeminent in most readings of Christian Scripture, tradition, and theology. Hope is the drawing force of all human initiative. It looks to the coming of the new, the never before, the undreamt of. Hope is a pregnant, many-layered .concept. We can distinguish in it shades of meaning that the French language, for example, conveys with different terms--espoir and esperance. We can make the distinction between hope for success (espoir) and something deeper: the anticipation of a desired good, a desire-filled wanting, in a word, esperance. In a more metaphysical and religious sense, hope, esperance, is a movement of the person by which we relativize the present and all its prospects of success so as to be open to something that we realize can come only as gift. The more unpropitious the context in which we demonstrate hope, the deeper the hope is. Hope is precisely what we have when we do not have something. Hope is not the same thing as optimism that things will go our way, or turn out well. It is rather the certainty that something makes sense, is worth the cost, regardless of how it might turn out. Hope is a sense of the possible. It strains ahead, seeking a way behind and.beyond every dead end. Hope moves in three steps. First, what I hope for I do not yet Review for Religious have or see. Hope's object is future. Second, what I hope for may be difficult. But, third, I just might have it! There are no guarantees, but it just might be possible. In short, hope is directed to a future good that is hard but not impossible to attain. Its attainment, though, is in the mode of reception. Hope is the retrieval of possibilities that can only come as gift letting something come into life that is not self-generated. But with the gift comes judgment. The counterpart of hope is the admission of failure; the condition for the possibility of the Spirit's inbreaking in the gift of hope. Indeed hope of the deepest kind, esperance, calls for humility, a willingness to be judged by the gospel, to submit to its apocalyptic sting. Historical events interrupt our sense of order and cohesion. Our educational institutions have lost sight of the purposes for which they were founded. In light of the Lordship of Christ, it becomes clearer that our cultural forms, our sense of the fixedness of meaning, our grand schemes for improvement, have failed. Though hope for the future cannot come unless there is a willingness to admit failure and be judged by the light of Christ's gospel, there is in us a tenacious resistance to accepting the fact that we have failed. Without humility, poverty of spirit, and filial fear of the Lord, we remain unable to face the simple fact that our lives as persons and as a people are deeply fragmented. But the willingness to admit that the way we have done it until now is no way into the future liberates us to attend to other possibilities. It allows us to be open to voices and visions that were never heard or seen in earlier ways of perceiving and being. Admitting failure in light of the Lordship of Christ and by the presence, and power of the Spirit renders us free to receive the many gifts that, even and especially amid the ruins, are still on offer. When we relinquish the big-shoulders strategy of holding up what is falling down, we can attend to the shimmering shards amid the crumbling of our worldview and our culture, even and especially our religious culture. It is not at all uncommon to find that what we have put our energies into, indeed what we have staked our life on, proves unreliable, and that what we have affirmed in faith is no longer believable. What, then, is the reason for the hope? Can we continue to hope in such circumstances? It is precisely when faith crumbles There is nothing more important to the human being than hope. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces and love grows dim that hope really begins.'° It is in the wonder and weakness of one's faith that we find the real meaning of hope. For hope is the willingness to not give up precisely when one draws no consolation from faith. Hope does not t~ to determine how God's ways will be shown. It remains open for all new and astonishing manifestations of the divine presence. It is in our most vulnerable state that God's gift of the Spirit, in hope, comes. Hope !s indeed God's gift to the vulnerable. It is only when we are exhausted, speechless, impotent--that is, only in our radical brokenness and vulnerability, by which we participate in the kenosis of God--that God can find room enough to enter and sustain us. The hopelessness and emptiness of the darkness of our age is precisely the condition that makes hope possible. And it is in the self-emptying of inherited forms of religious life and communal commitment that we can find room for what is yet to come. Amid the ruins, our consolation and our hope are found in the One who has left behind a trace of his presence even amid the crumbling?' However much we may wish it otherwise, sometimes it is no more than a trace of God's nearness that we have. For those who are rocked and shaken to their core, shattered by the inbreaking Spirit who is the very gift of hope, shimmering traces may have to suffice, enabling us to take the next step, and the next, toward what is yet coming to be--as the gift of God's giving. From Community to Communion It is clear that inherited expressions of the vowed religious life cannot escape the self-emptying of forms that is the hallmark of our age. This gives cause for lament, and for hope. The future of religious life is ineluctably tied to the willingness of vowed members to lament what has been, what is now passing, and-- rather than trying to rebuild from what little remains of the past-- to create spaces where something of God's constant coming as gift can be recognized, named, and celebrated in memory and in hope. Forms of religious life as we have known it are giving way to something new, new forms of religious life, perhaps, but without clear precedent in Christian history. In the midst of the crumbling of forms in which community and communal commitment played a large role, lamentation can give rise to hope. As community identity " seems on the brink of collapse and communal commitments seem stretched to the breaking point, there may be gained a glimpse of Review for Religious the deeper mystery of interpersonal communion. Is it at all possible that what is presently operative in religious communities is a self-emptying of forms so that vowed members may participate more fully in the mystery of communion? The fundamental Christian mystery is that God is a communion of persons in loving relationship: Father, Son, and Spirit toward us, for us, with us, in us. The very being of God is to be in relation, to be toward us, for us, with us, in us. To be created in the image of God is to be created for relationship, for communion, for establishing, cultivating, sustaining relationships based on reciprocity, mutuality, and equality rooted in the mystery of the divine perichoresis~ To say that the whole world is created in God's image is to say that the whole of creation, every inch and ounce of it, is created for relationship. Growing in the divine likeness, reaching our true destiny as persons, is realized as we participate ever more fully in the mystery of this holy communion. And this we do as we seek to establish and sustain right relationship with self, another, others, God, and with every living creature22 Various expressions of religious life in community have sought to embody this mystery of communion. Community life and communal commitment give form to, or bring to speech, the mystery of trinitarian communion. Re!igious communities and communal commitment have been expressive of, embodiments of, a language of communion. But there is no strict equation between community and communion. The relational matrix at the heart of all the living will not pass away. It alone is the ground on which we stand, and which will withstand the splintering and shattering of the forms that have sought to speak its mystery. Butit may now be time to "speechify" this mystery of communion through the articulation of new cultures of communion that express more adequately the emergent understandings of God, human life, history, the world, and the church. It is quite possible tha~ the good word amid all this hard news is that vowed members of religious institutes have occasion to lean into, fall into, the mystery of communion--the very mystery of God whose very being is to be in relationship. This holy communion of persons divine and human is beneath and beyond all the forms. It is Hope is allowing something to come into life that is not self-generated. March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces the gift given by the Word whose name is Love beneath and beyond all other words. Amid the rubble the Spirit of God in hope comes, perhaps offering an alternative possibility to the worldview which shaped us to the core, offering in its place the possibility of creating a culture of communion as a gentle corrective in the face of the narcissism, pragmatism, and restlessness of our age. At this stage it is all too easy to offer forecasts about the forms religious life will take, in view of such factors as greater collaboration with lay associates and the need for a sharper ecclesial identity and a stronger sense of corporate mission according to the charism of an institute's founders. It would be easy to provide practical directives for the reconfiguration of community as participation in the mystery of communion. But doing so might be one more instance of clinging to the culture that is passing, of holding on to a worldview that would offer a consoling sense of certainty regarding an inevitably brighter future--replete with false promises and unreliable guarantees. Forecasts, clear pictures, and precise directions are at odds with the logic of the trace. What is yet to be will be shown as we make our way into the fullness of the trinitarian communion by following the traces, the luminous traces Christ has left in the gospel. Further, to see in Christ the trace of the trinitarian communion in which we live even now. Whatever new forms of religious life and communal commitment are coming to be will be cultivated and sustained only by prayerful participation in this holy communion wherein we may be given the courage to live with just a trace. Then follow it. In the shattering of ~hat we hold most dear, it is possible to see with new eyes, as if for the first time. Everywhere there are luminous traces of the mystery of communion, hidden from those who keep squinting.and straining for a neat and tidy worldview, or from those who want to build a religious culture of the rubble of the past. As religious communities continue to stretch their numbers and splinter yet further, astonishing acts of faith and love and hope continually spring forth between the cracks. Vowed religious go on, convinced that they will find a way forward. And, if there is no clear path ahead, they will make a way by responding to the gift of God's constant coming; they will follow the traces deeper and deeper into the mystery of communion between and among persons both human and divine. The traces shimmer, sometimes so brilliantly as to blind the clear-sighted: a dazzling darkness! At this juncture in the history of religious life, vowed members in Review for Religious communities of commitment are learning from the inside out the wisdom at the heart of the Christian mystic's experience of Light: If you want to be sure of the path you are on, then close your eyes and walk in the dark. It is hope, and hope alone, that takes the next step. And the next. Notes l Though I am describing the shift from "modernity" to "post[-I modernity," I am avoiding use of that terminology here. Helpful descrip-tions of the emergent post[-]modern consciousness include: Stanley J. Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996); Richard Kearney, The Wake of Imagination: Toward a Post-Modern Culture (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota, 1988); Paul Lakeland, Postmodernity: Christian Identity in a Fragvnented Age (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997); David Tracy, Plurality and Ambiguity: He~vneneutics, Religion, Hope (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987). 2 For a good example of the turn to historical fact in Christian the-ology, see Johann Baptist Metz, Faith in History and Society: Toward a Practical Fundamental Theology (New York: Seabury, 1980). See also Johann Baptist Metz and JOrgen Moltmann, Faith and Future: Essays on Theology, Solidarity, and Modernity (Concilium; Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). 3 See, for example, Elizabeth Johnson, "Does God Play Dice? Divine Providence and Chance," Theological Studies 57, no. 1 (March 1996): 3- 18. 4 For a treatment of the interruptive character of history, see The Holocaust as Interruption (Concilium), ed. Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza and David Tracy (Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark, 1984). 5 For a treatment of some of the issues involved in naming the God who cannot be named, see Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being, trans. Thomas A. Carlson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995). 6 See Ronald Rolheiser, The Shattered Lantern: Rediscovering the Felt Presence of God (New York: Crossroad, 1995). 7 While others have emphasized the relational character of God and its implications for human and Christian life, I am particularly indebted to the contribution of Catherine Mowry LaCugna, God for Us: The Trinity and Christian Life (San Francisco: Harper, 1991). 8 William E Lynch, Images of Hope: Imagination as Healer of the Hopeless (Baltimore: Helicon Press, 1965), p.9. 9 Lynch, p. 21. 10 For a fuller treatment of my understanding of the dynamics of hope, see Michael Downey, Hope Begins V~here Hope Begins (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998). ~ Post[-]modernist Jacques Derrida uses .the image of the trace to March-April 1999 Downey ¯ Luminous Traces avoid speaking of presence. The image is also used extensively by Emmanuel Levinas and Paul Ricoeur. In Ricoeur the term is associated with the distanciation of the text. What is found in the narrative of an event but the trace of the event? There is no immediate access through any kind of historical reconstruction or through the forging of univocal meaning. It is intriguing that Th4r~se of Lisieux drew on the image of the trace in speaking of her faith and confidence even in the depth and dark-ness of her trial as she neared death. The title of this presentation derives from TMr~se. She writes: "Since Jesus has reascended to heaven, I can follow him only in the traces he has left; but how luminous these traces are! How perfumed! I have only to cast a glance in the Gospels . " See her Story of a Soul, trans. John Clarke (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1976), p. 258. ,2 For a treatment of the implications of a thoroughly relational understanding of God for the Christian spiritual life, see Catherine Mowry LaCugna and Michael Downey, "Trinitarian Spirituality," in The New Dictionmy of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 968-982. Easter (at a retreat house surrounded by cemeteries) Our propensity (as part of nature) is to f!ll up emptiness. Graves hunger for bodies and for earth and, in time, more earth as,flesh diminishes to nothing. But emptiness is essential for God. The hollow of a nest is just right for hatching and only when egg and tomb lie empty does life emerge. Eugene Cartier Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Community Living: Beginning the Conversation Fmor several years I have had the growing perception that com-unity living may be the Achilles' heel of contemporary apos-tolic religious life. ("Achilles' heel" means a point of special vulnerability. Referring to the ancient myth, the dictionary defines it as "a small but mortal weakness.") Before I proceed, let me make two clarifications abdut this perception of mine. First, I see a prob-lem not with community in the abstract (an ideal which we all affirm), but with community living, an experience that is tangible and daily. Secdnd, I sense that our vulnerability consists in our inability to see what this commitment, this ideal, really requires of us. Often the mere mention of the topic brings about an awkward silence, embarrassed dismissals, or defensive equivocations. We have all heard, and perhaps even voiced, statements like these: "Community doesn't mean living under the same roof" . "My ministry is so demanding that I need time and space apart just to keep going" . "I don't want to participate in a basically dysfunctional lifestyle". "My parish [or my ministry team] is my community" . "There are no opportuni6es for community living in my locale" . and, from someone relocating her ministry, "I refuse to go from community to community and ask if they are willing to have me." Doris Gottemoeller RSlVl wrote "Religious Life: V~rhere Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in our March-April 1998 issue. The present article was her contribution to the sy~nposium at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in ~,rernersville, Pennsylvania, in October 1998. Her address remains Sisters of Mercy of the A~nericas; 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living I believe that our inability or unwillingness to answer the questions of what community living means today and what our common obligation or commitment is weakens our credibility internally and externally. We ourselves have failed to get a clear vision of community that we can agree on and live together in, and outsiders take note of a number of confusing appearances. When we are ambiguous about this significant dimension of consecrated life, can we invite potential new members to explore this life? A number of factors and circumstances have brought us to this point of confusion and uncertainty. The adaptation and renewal mandated by Vatican Council II led us to discard many styles and expressions of community that are no longer relevant to contemporary culture and ministry. Economic factors such as the loss of parish convents, the conversion of former motherhouses to other uses, and the withdrawal from many sponsored ministries (hospitals, colleges, high schools) meant that sisters have had to seek other places to live. These are usually rented (and therefore impermanent), not associated with a ministry site, and able to accommodate only a small number--one, two, or three sisters. In these transitions we were clearer about what we were discarding than what we were choosing. (Indeed, we make choices of living arrangements today amid a flurry of considerations: companionship; cost; proximity to work, family, community members, other friends, and doctors; comfort; witness to simplicity; and so forth. All of them are legitimate, but not all are equally significant to the congregation's mission.) Moreover, after a site for community living has been chosen, there is often no set of expectations concerning behavior in one another's regard. A further indication of the silence that surrounds this issue is the nonreception given the 1994 document on community published by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL): "Fraternal Life in Community." In my view this document is a clear and sympathetic statement of the present situation of community living, offered "to support the efforts made by many communities of religious, both men and women, to improve the quality" of their community life (§6). Its composition was preceded by co.nsultation with religious in many parts of the world. It has, however, been largely unnoticed or ignored by religious--for several possible reasons. The first is, of course, its unfortunate tide.~ A second possible reason was voiced by a sister in my community: "It gives an excellent presentation of Review for Religious ? the present situation, but the solutions offered are not helpful." Is this not tantamount to an admission that the responsibility for finding solutions belongs with us? A third possible reason is the widespread resistance to any consideration of the topic--in other words, our Achilles' heel. We were not yet ready in 1994 to entertain any discussion of this issue that lies close to the heart of our vocation. Perhaps we are still not ready. But in the interest of testing that premise--and of beginning a conversation--I would offer some starting points. These reflections are offered in response to six questions: (1) What are we talking about when we talk about community life? (2) What is its theological basis? (3) What can we say about a spirituality for community living? (4) What is the role of leadership in community living? (5) What are some special challenges to living community life today? (6) What can we do to renew this dimension of our community life? Note that these questions do not focus on the past, on our previous experience of community living, or on all the factors that have altered it or contributed to our present situation. Some current resources for the reflection are "Fraternal Life in Community" and the apostolic exhortation on consecrated life, Vita consecrata. In addition, and more significantly, each congregation brings its own charism, mission, and experience to the consideration of community living, and the insights shared and directions chosen will not necessarily be the same for each congregation. What are we talking about when we talk about community living? It is impossible to describe community living in a way that anticipates every circumstance, style, and modality. As noted above, we are not talking about an abstract idea, but about a social experience. I would suggest that, put as simply as possible, community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. A significant relationship is one which is weighty, valuable, more than casual; it is multidimensional, not just spiritual, financial, social, or spatial. It is more than spiritual, that is, meeting regularly to pray together. It is more than financial, that is, sharing resources and accountability for the use of Community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living them, It Jis more than social, that is, gathering for periodic card games, meals, nights out, and so forth. It is more than spatial, that is, living under the same roof or in close proximity to one another. The relationship is significant because all of these dimensions are integrated in a mutually beneficial and ongoing way. A mutually beneficial relationship contributes to the greater integrity and well-being of each participant. It is not crippled by immature dependencies, but strives for a healthy adult mutuality of responsible caring. "Carrying one another's burdens" in time of sickness or special need is an obligfition and a privilege of community life. The benefits sought and exchanged are on many levels, for example, relationship, spirituality, ministry, and, in some cases, mentorship in a new way of life. Finally, I would suggest that a bona. fide experience of community living is ongoing. It is a stable, predictable arrangement, not a succession of sporadic episodes or chance encounters:~ In essence, community members say to one another, "I will be there for youl you c~n count on me," whatever the circumstance or need. Continuity is essential to build trust and undergird mutual expectations. Notice that this description of community living does not say anything about specific situations such as living alone, in twosomes, or in large or small communities. It should be clear, however, that "two or more people in a significant, stable, mutually growthful relationship" does not include busy professionals who only cohabit for the sake of convenier~ce and economic efficiency. It does not include "boarding houses" where anonymity and inde~pendence are the chief values. Instead, .we are talking about good-faith efforts to live a principal value of religious life. With few exceptions it will include a common residence. What is the theological basis for community living? This is a question calculated to make the eyes glaze over, because it sounds so theoretical. It is, however, the fundamental question of motivation. Why do we choose a life of community? Beyond economy, efficiency, convenience, friendship, or natural attraction, what are the reasons that are rooted' in faith, that speak to the core of our identity as apostolic religious? Are there reasons which flow from our commitment toseek God that we call a~religious vocation? I would suggest two lines of reasoning or justification for community living, starting from personal call or vocation and from ecclesial identity. Review for Religious Each of us experienced a call to a way of life, an invitation from Jesus Christ to a life of greater intimacy. We joined our various congregations because membership in that congregation makes pursuit of that way of life possible. A "way of life" is a constellation of fundamental life choices having an internal coherence and consistency. One's way of life is defined by choices about relationship to God, to the Christian community, to sexuality, to possessions, to companions, to those in need. The way of life known as religious life is a radical response to the call of Jesus who says, "I am the way." The internal coherence of a way of life means that all the parts reinforce one another. For example, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of evangelical poverty. Together we share our earnings to provide for our needs and the needs of others. Together we decide how much is enough, whether for today or for our future. A single person living alone in the world could take a vow of poverty, but it would not be the same vow that religious take. It would differ in its expression and its obligations. Similarly, community life supports and is shaped by the practice of the vow of celibacy. Together we can accept the loneliness of unmarried life because of the companionship of one another. Together we witness to the surpassing love of Christ Jesus, who calls us to be for one another in community. And so forth. Obedience, prayer, mission-- all are shaped by and within community. Community living is not an accidental dimension of the way of life we have chosen, but a determinant of the way in which we realize every other dimension. This assertion needs special emphasis with respect to ministry. Before the synod on consecrated life, there was a fear expressed in some quarters that the outcome would be an affirmation of "consecration" over against "mission," of being vs. doing, and that this emphasis would be used to promote a quasi-monastic lifestyle. In actuality, however, the synod document expresses a beautiful integration of consecration and mission: "By the action of the Holy Spirit who is at the origin of every vocation and charism, consecrated life itself is a mission, as was the whole of Jesus' life" (§72). In other words, the life itself, in every dimension and in its totality, is apostolic. Therefore, if the demands of ministry are such as to diminish adherence to the other aspeCts--for example, prayer or community life or obedience--then an imbalance has been created which needs to be corrected. A reflection on the relationship of ministry to community is a March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Community Living good segue into a reflection on the ecclesial identity of religious life and its implications for community living. Vita consecrata presents community living as an especially eloquent sign of ecclesial community, that is, of the church's fundamental identity. Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity, not built on family ties or natural attraction, but on common values and commitments. "In this way it speaks to people both of the beauty of fraternal communidn and of the ways which actually lead to it. Consecrated persons live 'for' God and 'from' God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tendencies present in" the human heart and in society" (§41). Community is described as a "God-enlightened space in which to experience the presence of the risen Lord" (§42). It is a life in communion, which signifies and enriches the church and renders it better able to carry out its mission. Of course, being a sign of something implies a certain visibility. We have to ask: To what extent is our experience of community living visible? Who knows that sisters are present in an apartment building, a neighborhood, or a parish, and what does it sayto them? People in the world today hunger for an experience of community, for evidence that it is possible. In fact, a few years ago a group of intellectuals and public-policy experts formed a new movement called the communitarian movement. Its goal is to strengthen participatory democracy and to call on citizens to balance rampant individualism with a concern for the common good. Healthy religious communities balance individual needs with the common good day after day, in small ways and large. We do it out of love for God and for the sake of mission. If we find ways to share this experience with others, it can make the church more visible and be a gift to the world. What can we say about a spirituality for community? If the theological question deals with the why of community, the spirituality question deals with the how. What kind of spiritual focus, what kinds of practices, nourish and support community life? The first hallmark of community is that it be apostolic or outer-directed. "Not for ourselves alone" should be the watchword. As we said above, consecrated life is apostolic in its very essence. It is not that persons in religious congregations do apostolic works or have individual ministries, but that the whole way of life is for the sake of Review for Religious making visible and attractive the love of God. Community life, therefore, as an intrinsic element of the consecrated life, should be mission oriented in its intentionality and expression. An apostolic community welcomes neighbors and friends and even, at times, aliens and strangers. An apostolic community weaves the needs of the world into its spiritual consciousness and common prayer. An apostolic community shares its resources with the needy. An apostolic community responds to the concerns and priorities of the larger congregation. An apostolic community welcomes new members and introduces them to the way of life. In short, an apostolic community is not turned in on itself, isolated and self-sufficient, but open to receive and share with others. Community life is nourished by dialogu4 and prayer, ritual and celebrations. We are embodied people who need tangible expressions and symbols of shared values and commitments. From time to time we need to say what we believe in, what we question and wonder about, what we care about, and we need to hear others do the same. Every local community will have its own points of intersection, its own rhythm of coming together to speak to one another and together to speak to God. Many of today's religious entered their congregations at a time when the lifestyle was burdened with customs and practices that were no longer appropriate for contemporary life. In rejecting these, however, we sometimes lost sight of the fac.t that we still need tangible expressions of common beliefs and values. In a healthy community life, regular expectations, mutually agreed on, are complemented by spontaneous gatherings and special events. Prayer together furnishes moments of special intimacy. The congregation, in its constitutions and policies, should articulate some expectations that are common to all settings, while leaving room for local creativity. It is too great a burden for local groups to renegotiate everything every year or whenever there is a change in the membership. The common expectations should incorporate congregational feasts, texts, and traditions. Community life requires asceticism. No surprise here! We all Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity. March-April 1999 Gottemoeller * Communi~ Living know that community living involves virtues and practices such as self-discipline, generosity, tolerance, and patience. It requires deliberate choices to be available to others, even to be inconvenienced by them. From time to time it gives us opportunities to "bear wrongs patiently" and to seek and to give forgiveness. Community life :is a privileged venue for discernment. The evangelical counsel that is most intrinsic to community life is obedience, not only in the sense of approvals for ministry and residence choices, but also in the sense of holding oneself open to the ongoing promptings of the Spirit in both small matters and large. The place where those prompfings can be heard, the persons who can articulate them, are often found in the local setting. Members in community are not on individual spiritual journeys that only occasionally intersect, but on a shared journey where the challenge or misadventure of one can become an opportunity for all. What is the role of leadership in creating and sustah~ing community? Over the years I have noticed the ease with which we affirm leadership in ministry and the difficulty we have affirming it in community. For example, if someone is an excellent principal or parish administrator or earns an award or grant for a creative ministry project, we are happy to congratulate her and to publish the achievement. We fail to notice, however, that congregations also have members with natural gifts for leadership within community. Here I am not thinking particularly of administrative skills, but of the ability to call the members to unity, to prayer, to responsibility for shared commitments, to celebration, and to reconciliation when needed. Years ago these were some of the responsibilities of the local superior. But now, with that role largely absorbed by province administration and with a collegial lifestyle in the local setting, we no longer have access to, nor honor, these gifts for community building. 1 am not suggesting that congregations institute an annual award for community, but I do want to point out that some sisters have special gifts for bringing out the best in the rest of us. By their example and by their initiative they help us create a more vibrant community life. Further, I suggest that this is not a second-order gift, less important than the ability to create and sustain new or difficult ministries. It is an essential gift that needs to be recognized and affirfi~ed for itself. This is particularly true because the sister Review for Religious who is especially adept at community building is often someone who is especially good at attracting, inviting, and welcoming new members, an activity that is vital to the congregation's future. I suspect that the gifts for community building are more widespread than we realize and that, by honoring them, we may encourage one another to cultivate them. In his book Religious Life as Adventure, Albert DiIanni SM says that the effective regeneration of religious communities depends on leadership from below, arising from the religious instincts at the grass roots. He counters to a degree the Nygren-Ukeritis study indicating the importance of visionary leadership for successful renewal. He suggests that this study may contain a hidden assumption, namely, that the present crisis in religious life is a functional one, a lack of leadership skills. In contrast, he maintains that the crisis has deeper roots, that it is a crisis of enthusiasm and faith, and that, if this is so, nothing will serve but a conversion of heart in a significant number of members at the base, a re-forming of congregations at the level of their faith.2 We all know of places where community is lived with special vibrancy, authenticity, and zeal. We all have women in our midst who live the life with generosity and joy. One problem we face is that too often these individuals are isolated from one another and thus their influence is dissipated. They can grow discouraged and settle into ruts of middle-class complacency--then the congregation's mission and charism are further diminished, less visible. My leadership team once had a conversation about the possibility of bringing some of these sisters together to create a "critical mass." We rejected the idea because we did not want to seem to be recognizing an "elite," or to suggest that what is required of.a Sister of Mercy is beyond the reach of any member. We decided that what is needed for vibrant communities are clear expectations, clearly expressed and honored by all. The goal is for every expression of community living to be intentional rather than associational. What are some special challenges to living community life today? There are a number of them. They are signs of our times, and represent significant challenges for individuals and congreghtions desirous of renewing community life. One is our relationship to the life of the parish and the local church. At one time most local communities were associated with parishes. The parish convent and the sisters in residence there were a symbol of the compassionate face of the church, a center of hospitality and help in time of need, March-April 1999 Gottemoeller ¯ Community Living and a witness to the reality of our way of life. Today there is no common venue where we are present. For those who would like to know more about us, there is no place to "look" for us. Perhaps a communal choice to participate in a specific parish community-- rather than shopping around for liturgies at convenient times or with congenial celebrants--might be a means of community renewal and public visibility. Related to the demise of the parish convent is the general disappearance of congregational properties for community living. As motherhouses are sold or converted to other uses and as sisters are dispersed into varied ministries, congregations have fewer sites that can accommodate a community gathering of more than two or three. Sisters gravitate into apartments because it seems there are no other choices. Congregations favor rentals because they cannot afford to purchase properties or because they have no assurance that" sisters will use congregational properties if they make them available. Of course, if a congregation's commitment to community life includes, for example, common prayer, hospitality, public witness, and multigenerational living, that commitment would involve making suitable residences available and using them. Another challenge is our simultaneous participation in multiple and sometimes intersecting communities. Our parish, our ministry setting, our professional colleagues, our family, and our friends can all make legitimate claims on us. In addition, we may be drawn to specific ecclesial and social groups such as the charismatic movement, the pro-life movement, or Call to Action. These commitments can enrich community life or strain it beyond endurance. It calls for a special discernment to strike the right balance, but participation in community life should enjoy a priority in virtue of its connection to the essence of our vowed commitment. A further challenge is the responsibility for the care of aging parents. Surely no one has a greater call on our generosity than those who have given us life. In some cases it means taking time outside other community and ministry duties to help with shopping, transportation, and similar needs. Occasionally the only way to respond to parents' needs may be to move into the family home in order to provide day-to-day assistance. These situations call for a special sensitivity on the part of community members to different family circumstances. An important question is: How can they share the burden and support one or more individual members in their ministry to their parents? Review for Religious Perhaps the most difficult challenge is the drift towards living alone. There are, of course, some reasons that justify this option. Most congregations have a few members whose psychological health is so fragile that they are unable to cope with the requirements of community living. Sometimes their coping mechanisms involve behaviors that make it extremely difficult for community members to live with them. These conditions warrant living alone, for as long as the conditions persist. It is a special responsibility of leadership to support the well-being of these members. To take another case, some ministry needs would go unmet were it not for some sisters' willingness to live, for a time, apart from the daily support of community life. A question for discernment is whether or not the ministry was chosen precisely to justify .living alone. As in the case of sisters living with aging parents, community members will want to reach out to support the individual who is at a distance. Beyond these two circumstances (and absence for the purpose of study), there is a growing tendency to justify living alone solely on the basis of personal choice. Where this choice has gained a legitimacy on a par with other community choices, the congregation's community life would seem severely compromised. Such a. choice--particularly if the sisters are healthy and actively engaged in ministry--deprives other members of the benefits of their companionship and reduces the number of community settings available. Further, the choice fails to uphold the responsibility to provide communities that can nurture new membership. Unfortunately, in some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. Finally, our experiences and desires regarding community living are affected by intergenerational and multicultural issues. Age and ethnicity (and sociocultural background, education, ministry experience, and other factors too) may condition one's style of participating in community. At times these differences may be experienced as gift, at other times as limitation. The need to In some congregations the issue of living alone is so neuralgic that it cannot even be discussed, let alone challenged. March-April 1999 ,Gottemoeller ¯ Community Livin~ integrate these differences sensitively is one more reason for being clear about the congregation's expectations for community living. Moreover, in a world torn' by division and conflicting interests, "the presence of communities where people of different ages, languages, and cultures meet as brothers and sisters, and which remain united despite the inevitable conflicts and difficulties inherent in common life, is in itself a sign that bears witness to a higher reality.''3 What steps can we take to renew our community life? First, we can break the silence. We need to ask questions like: What would attract a young person to investigate our way of life? How would we welcome a potential new member and show her what our life is like? How is my spirituality nourished from our communal roots? How .does our way of life give visible witness to simplicity, communal sharing, prayer, love for one another, zeal for the gospel? We can no longe~r take for granted that nothing can be said about these matters. We may discover, in the conversation, that there is a hunger among us to talk about expectations, to be challenged out of complacency, and to live our communal life more intensely. In addition to beginning a conversation, we can resolve to "go with the life," wherever it is happening. We can affirm the vibrant communities that already exist, recognizing that they are not just happy accidents, but the fruit of effort and conviction. We can direct our financial and personal resources toward creating new communities among individuals who are willing to take the risk. We can invite other members to join existing communities that are vibrant. We can share our experience of community with associates, parishioners, inquirers, in ever widening circles. But this will be effective only if at the center a group of deeply'committed religious are living their vocation with sincerity and passion. I began these reflections by asserting that our inability to be clear about our understanding of and commitment to community living is a potentially fatal weakness. What followed were some thoughts designed to prompt the discussion and discernment that most congregations urgently need. Let me cite here a phrase that is the subtide of the document "Fraternal Life in Community": "The Love of Christ Gathers Us into Unity." This phrase captures the motive and dynamism of community life. Only the love of Christ is enough to support and sustain this way of life. Love attracts and gathers us. The process is never finished, always calling us to greater unity, greater generosity, greater zeal. This is an ideal from which we will all fall short, but one which will never be approached Review for Religious unless it is articulated in behavioral expectations appropriate to the charism and mission of a congregation. Not everything has been said here, but perhaps these reflections will be enough to break the silence and begin the conversation. The time has come, I believe, for us to consider community living with fresh eyes. The consideration can be the key to our ongoing conversion and our authentic renewal. Notes ~ During a visit with the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life in 1993, the officers of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Maior Superiors of Men pointed out the unsuitability of the title. The only recognition of our objection, how-ever, is a note saying: "In this text, 'fraternal' and 'fraternity' refer inclu-sively to both women and men and are, in the iudgment of the translators, the words most apt in English for conveying the fullness and warmth of communion which lies at the heart of community." 2 New York: Society of St. Paul, 1994, pp. 96-97. The Nygren- Ukeritis study referred to is "Religious-Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 390-417. 3 "Fraternal Life in Community" (1994), §56. How Often Must I Forgive? (Matthew 18) The first purple crocuses of spring forgive your indifference, your neglect of alleluias at sunshine and the reassuring spill of birdsong . from still-bare maples. March forgives your detraction and contempt for its necessary gusts and its mud like that made by Jesus with spittle and now rubbed on the face of your yard to cure it of winter. Pa~ricia Schnapp RSM March-April 1999 1dO - - LEON McKENZIE The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection: Two Interior Witnesses St. Augustine of Hippo once asked a fascinating question about the believability of Jesus' resurrection from the dead.1 The raising of a dead man to life was as much a mystery of unspeakable proportions then as it is today, and Augustine wondered whether the proclamation of the resurrection is credible or incredible. Suppose bodily resurrection is essentially unbelievable. From Augustine's perspective in the early 5th century, most of the world believed that Jesus rose from the dead and ascended into heaven. This raised two points for consideration. On the one hand, if millions of Christians believed despite the incredibility of the Gospels, belief in the resurrection would itself be miraculous and a sign from God supporting the Christian message. On the other hand, if multitudes of Christians believed because the resurrection is credible, it would imply the resurrection is essentially believable. Nonbelievers, then, must ask themselves why they find it impossible to believe. The saint's scholarship in the art of persuasion and logic is evidenced in his formulation of the question. After reflecting seriously on the issue, it is with some ease Leon McKenzie EdD, professor emeritus at Indiana University, recendy published Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: .4 Christian Perspective. His address is 274 Adrienne Drive; Greenwood, Indiana 46142. Review for Religious that one arrives at the conclusion that the proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is highly credible. The Appeal of the Kerygrna The resurrection was credible to early Christians, in part because they heard the Good News heralded by apostles who were soon to suffer for the truth of what they announced. After the last of the apostles died, others announced the gospel, often at the risk of their lives. As historians note, those who heard the testimony of the martyrs and early apologists accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection in very large numbers. Beyond the valor of those who preached the resurrection, the message itself possessed its own intrinsic appeal. Evidently something subtle was working in the lives of converts to the Way, as the Christian life was called, something that made the Good News eminently credible. I suggest that two interior witnesses of great power were at work: the voice of the resurrection archetype and the voice of the Holy Spirit. The Resurrection Archetype An archetype is a pattern in the mind and a standard for discerning meaning. The profound depths of each human heart are shaped in such a manner as to influence a favorable response to the message of resurrection. This archetype can be compared, in a manner of speaking, to an instinct for what is true and good, to a natural power to grasp what is tremendously significant for human existence. This meaning structure of the human psyche, I propose, has been learned over countless years of universal human experience. The resurrection archetype cultivates a natural appetite for the central proclamation of the Christian faith, the resurrection of Jesus. The testimony of the Holy Spirit builds on this natural archetype and urges us, at the supernatural level, to affirm Jesus' resurrection as God's decisive word in history. The resurrection archetype takes its form from everyday experiences of members of the human race. The great theme of death and resurrection is etched indelibly on the world. The workings of the world reveal the death-and-resurrection motif in ordinary natural processes. Sometimes our experiences of these March-April 1999 For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection patterns of death and resurrection are so subtle that we fail to advert to them consciously. Nonetheless, these daily "texts" spelling out the meaning of the cosmos eventually enter into our hearts. Someone once said, "A perfume of promise is in the air." Even in the natural world, the very air seems to hold a promise of resurrection. Many resurrectiori themes are active in our daily lives. All we need do to discover these motifs is observe and reflect. Five of these experiences of death and resurrection are presented here: (1) the daily death and resurrection of the sun, (2) the burial of seeds in the fall and the resurrection of vegetation in the spring, (3) the death of joy that occurs in emotional depression and the eventual resurrection to a new life of happiness, (4) the promise of resurrection in the life cycles of small crawling creatures, and (5) our death each night in sleep and our resurrection in the morning. It must be emphasized again these are simply representative examples~ For those who look, death and resurrection themes positively abound in our experience of the world. The Daily Death and Resurrection of the Sun Each day the sun is born in the east. On many days the arrival of the sun is accompanied by a spectacular show of its glory. The golden disk goes across the sky and descends into the darkness beyond the western horizon at night. We can only imagine the power of this experience for ancient peoples who lacked a scientific explanation of what was happening. Even for us who have a scientific explanation, the experience is substantial. What dies in the gloom of the western horizon arises again in the glory of the morning sky. The Burial of Seeds and the Resurrection of Vegetation How mystifying it must have been for ancient peoples to watch the burial of seeds in the fall and the subsequent resurrection of flowers, young saplings, and crops in the spring. This universal experience of death and resurrection inscribed itself deeply in the Review for Religious human .psyche and was the cause of festivals of joy and promise. This experience was the source of myths of hope, once stripped of fantastic and sometimes bizarre details. Celebrations of new life and stories of renewed life reinforced the resurrection archetype. The Death of Joy and the Resurrection of New Life Perhaps every normal individual has experienced the death of joy on the occasion of the ordinary depression associated with such events as the death of a loved one, the loss of a friend due to a thoughtless word, the loss of a job, and even the losing of a pet dog or cat. Some persons undergo more serious depression and begin to believe they will never again experience happiness. Eventually the day arrives when joy returns, laughter is possible, and a resurrection of sorts takes place. The resurrection archetype grows stronger in our heart of hearts. The Promise of Resurrection in Small Crawling Creatures There is a hint of the resurrection of Christ, and our own resurrections with him, even in the small crawling creatures of the natural world. The larval grubs entombed in the earth emerge as beeries. The caterpillar wraps itself in a chrysalis only to come forth again as a beautiful butterfly. In its most elemental forms, nature displays signs of resurrection hope. Ancient peoples, much less distracted than we are today, could, not have missed reflecting on what meaning resides in the transformations of the least of God's creatures. The Death of Sleep and the Resurrection to Consciousness Perhaps nothing in our lives comes closer to modeling the death and resurrection motif in our experience of the natural world than the phenomenon of sleep. We lose ourselves in sleep and put aside conscious advertence only to regain ourselves and our consciousness in the daily resurrection that occurs with our awakening. At one level of explanation, we fall asleep because we are tired and arise because we are refreshed. At a more profound level of interpretation, we fall asleep and rise again as a sign of death and resurrection. These repeated experiences, universal in their scope among human beings, wrought profound developments in the resurrection meaning-structures of the collective unconscious of the race. It is not at all difficult to believe that God put resurrection motifs into March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection the world as promises of the defining event in human history, the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Functions of the Resurrection Archetype How has the resurrection archetype functioned? First, after taking form in the hearts of people who lived long ages ago, it found its way into myths that sages and storytellers told and retold about gods who died and came to life again--particularly agricultural gods, in accord with the seasons of growing. How these myths may have come to be is an interesting process, but one that is too complicated to review within this brief article.2 Suffice it to say that the resurrection archetype was the primary guide for the mythmakers who created "once upon a time" stories of gods who regularly descended to the underworld and returned later. Frequently these myths were used to explain why vegetation died in the fall and was reborn in the spring. Second, in accord with divine providence, the archetype worked to prepare the way for the acceptance of the risen Lord. After Jesus' resurrection, it continued providentially to provide, at a natural level, an interior witness to his resurrection. Upon hearing the announcement of Jesus' resurrection, a bystander who was open to God might think, "This sounds very interesting. This message resonates in my soul. The proclamation of Jesus' resurrection is supported by my entire experience of the workings of the world. Perhaps my experience of the death and resurrection themes in nature was God's way of preparing me for this message about Jesus." Now this initial natural attraction to the notion of Jesus' resurrection would probably not be put into words. Instead, the bystander in the preceding paragraph probably experienced an unspoken intuition that stirred a natural feeling favorable to the Good News. For some indefinable reason in the bystander's mind, he or she would have felt drawn to the message. Creation and the Resurrection Archetype One final issue about the archetype must be considered. The resurrection archetype" in the depths of the human psyche grew out of the universal experience of the resurrection theme in the workings of the world. But how did it happen that these Review for Religious resurrection motifs came to exist in the world? The answer is related to the very creation of the world. We read in Genesis that God created the heavens and earth and "the earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep" (Gn 1:1-2). In the act of creation God rescued the world from its own nothingness. From nothingness God brought forth a dynamic world that participates in his own being. This "stamped" the world, so to speak, with the pattern of death and resurrection. The very act of bringing cosmos out of chaos is the fundamental motif of death and resurrection that is repeated everywhere in the workings of the world. The resurrection themes we experience it the world are the "traces" of the first act of creation. They are reminders of creation. The signs of resurrection manifested in the world of our experience are hallmarks of a God who brings forth something out of nothing and life out of death, a God who does things we might deem "impossible." We are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. The Holy Spirit The second interior witness to the truth of Jesus' resurrection is the Holy Spirit. One of the most revealing New Testament passages concerning the Holy Spirit's testimony to the resurrection of Jesus is Romans 8:1-17. The passage speaks to a number of major ideas. It seems as if St. Paul experienced a flood of rich insights as he dictated his letter to his scribe Tertius. "The mind that is seton the flesh is hostile to God," Paul says; "it does not submit to God's law---indeed, it 'cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God." A little further along Paul says, "If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit which dwells in you." Finally, Paul concludes this passage by noting, "When we cry, 'Abba! Father!' it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ." The Holy Spirit is our interior witness to several truths, all of March-April 1999 McKenzie ¯ The Credibility of Jesus' Resurrection which are closely connected. First, we are children of God because Christ has set us free from the flesh, that is, from that part of us that is unredeemed. We are, in fact, on intimate, terms with the Father and even address him as Abba or Papa. Second, we are heirs of the Father with Jesus, and our inheritance is everlasting life. This is the life to which Jesus was raised after his death and burial. Third, this inheritance is due precisely to the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead. The Holy Spirit gives witness within us to our adoption, to the risen Christ, and to our inheritance of Jesus' everlasting life. The Holy Spirit testifies to the truth of the resurrection. Credence in the "Incredible" Humanly speaking, and looking only to the surface of things, it seems incredible that someone who is dead could be raised to a new life. Note that Jesus was not merely resuscitated or revived to life in the old flesh. He rose to life in a glorified body (I Co 15:1-47). In the days after the ascension and before the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, some might have thought that the message of Jesus' resurrection had "almost no chance of being accepted. But those who heard the announcement of Jesus' resurrection--the proclamation of an event long before it became a teaching--not only affirmed the resurrection, but did so in large numbers. People believed not only because they heard the words of the aposdes and their successors, but also because they were attuned to what they heard in their own hearts. That so many new people accepted the Good News of Jesus' resurrection from the dead in the 1 st century and that the Christian faith became so widespread in such a short time seems miraculous. The testimony of credible witnesses such as the apostles to something that seemed incredible in human terms, namely, the raising of a crucified "criminal" to a new life, evoked strong affirmations of faith. Such affirmations, however, would have been futile without the interior testimony of the resurrection archetype at the natural level of human existence and the testimony of the Holy Spirit at the supernatural level. The interior witness of the resurrection archetype and the Holy Spirit transformed a . proclamation that seemed incredible into. something utterly . -I-~6-I believable and altogether inviting. Review for Religious Notes ~ St. Augustine, The City of God, trans. G. Walsh et al. (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1958), pp. 505-508. 2 See my Pagan Resurrection Myths and the Resurrection of Jesus: A Christian Perspective (Charlottesville, Virginia: Bookwrights Press, 1997). The Recital Sacred was the silence as the tiny woman caressed the keys almost~ possessively. This was bliss: seven cherished friends gathered to hear her heart's story, eager to let her bare the glory of a soul poured out in ardent prayer. She knew they knew she met her God through her Magnificat of making music. Anna Marie Mack SSJ March-April 1999 -.157 CYNTHIA BOURGEAULT From Woundedness to Union ~early fifteen years ago, in his now classic Lost Christianity, .&. ¯ Jacob Needleman argued the need for an "intermediate Christianity" that might bridge the gap between the religion's lofty spiritual teachings and the ability of the average Christian to put them into practice. "Stone must become water before it can flow," he writes. "The pathos of Christendom. is that of preaching to stones that they must flow into the ocean.''~ Midway through the book there is a cameo app.earance by the Catholic monk Father Thomas Keating, at the time (1978) abbot of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachusetts. Here he and a few associates were experimenting with a new prayer form called centering prayer, aimed at expressing the essence of the Christian contemplative heritage in a simplified form accessible to contemporary Christians. In the course of a lengthy interview, Needleman expresses excitement that Keating's experiments might be headed toward recovering that lost link, though he stops short of commending them outright. Among the many debts of gratitude I owe to this book is that it was my introduction to Thomas Keating, who has subsequently become my teacher and friend. In the sixteen years since that Cynthia Bourgeault PhD is founding director of the Maine Monastic Foundation, a network of people attempting to live the contemplative life in the world according to the Benedictine Rule. She is also an Episcopal priest, adjunct professor of spirituality at Bangor Theological Seminary, and a developmental editor for Thomas Keating. The current article has been slightly adapted from one published in Gnosis, No. 34 (Winter 1995). Her address is 526 Isabella Point Road; Salt Spring Island, British Columbia; V8K 1V3 Canada. Review for Religious interview at Spencer, there have been significant developments. A year after Lost Christianity was published, Keating resigned as abbot of Spencer and "retired" to the small mountain monastery of St. Benedict's in Snowmass, Colorado. There local interest in centering prayer quickly snowballed into a national organization called Contemplative Outreach Ltd., now a decade old and some fifteen thousand members strong. In the effort to develop a conceptual framework for the growing ranks of practitioners, Keating has produced a series of books--Open Mind, Open Heart (1987), Invitation to Love (1992), and Intimacy with God (1994)---in which he develops an increasingly cohesive and subtle vision of the Christian spiritual journey, the path of inner transformation that begins when one embraces a regular practice of centering prayer. Keating says, "The method of centering prayer was specifically developed as a dialogue between contemporary psychological models and the classic language of the Christian spiritual path." That "classic language," which envisions a progression through purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages, has guided the journey of many a saint, but for many reasons both good and bad it often fails to resonate with the spirit of our own times, where the prevailing paradigm for transformation consists of woundedness, recovery, and wellness. ls there a way of integrating these visions? Keating's system is an attempt to do just that--to sketch out a road map which begins in woundedness and ends, if one follows it all the way, in transforming union. While most of the elements are individually familiar, the system itself represents a significant new synthesis. Furthermore it is yoked to a powerful meditational praxis through which people change more quickly and deeply than through any other method I have seen. It is not exactly an "intermediate Christianity" according to Needleman's specifications, which he defines as "the accumulation of the force of inner attention" (p. 119). But, functionally, Keating seems to be achieving the desideratum that Needleman described so eloquently: to help stones become water, to take the first steps toward significant inner transformation within a classically Christian framework. Not All Meditation Is Alike Before exploring the intricacies of Keating's paradigm, it is first necessary to understand something of the properties of centering March-April 1999 Bo_ur~eault * From Woundedness to Union prayer. While common understanding might consider all meditational methods basically interchangeable in that they begin by gathering the mind and end by transcending it, Keating's entire teaching rests on the assertion that centering prayer is a distinct method whose most apparent characteristic is a tendency to trigger the unconscious. This discovery, which grew out of direct observation rather than theory, came several years after the progress report in Lost Christianity~ At that time Keating and his associates Father William Meninger and Father Basil Pennington were still thinking in terms of a renewal of contemplative prayer, the creation of an inherently Christian meditation in response to the massive defection of younger Catholics to Eastern meditational paths. Based largely on the 14th-century text The Cloud of Unknowing, centering prayer took its place among other Christian meditational forms sprouting at the time, particularly Christian Zen prayer and the "Christian Meditation" of Dora John Main. It was a devotional method pure and simple, a way of deepening and intensifying the relationship with God. There was at that point no psychological underpinning attached to it, nor even a clue that one might exist. Then in 1983 a charter group of centering-prayer initiates organized the first ten-day Centering Prayer Intensive at the Lama Foundation in San Cristobal, New Mexico, hoping to achieve a more concentrated meditative experience on the general model of a Zen sesshin. While Keating and several others in the group were well-experienced in sesshins, no one was prepared for the volume and vibrancy of emotional outpouring that flooded forth from five hours a day of centering prayer. Tears, repressed memories, deep intuitions all came to the surface in a jumble, along with a sense of catharsis and bonding among the dozen participants that to this day has not faded. From his years as abbot, Keating was used to the gradual sensitizing of the unconscious during the course of contemplative life, but not with such speed and intensity. He recalls seeing "people going through in ten days what it might have taken them twenty years to go through at a monastery." He quickly realized he had a tiger by the tail, and it did not take long to figure out why: it lay in the methodology of the prayer itself. Most meditational methods are concentrative in nature: they start by gathering and focusing the attention, whether by repeating Review for Religious a mantra, following the breath, or focusing on bodily sensation. With centering prayer, however, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. The intention in this case is simply to rest in the presence of God beyond all thought and emotion. A "sacred word" is used in the prayer, but not as a mantra, to be repeated consistently as a focal point .for attention, but simply as a touchstone for intent: when one finds oneself attracted to a thought or emotion during the course of prayer, the sacred word simply serves as a reminder to let go of the thought and rest in the bare presence of God. Thus thoughts may--and do---come and go; the idea is to develop a detached attitude .toward them. One reaches contemplation through the access point of consent, not through focused attention. If meditational methods were arranged on a scale from most concentrative to most receptive, centering prayer would be at the far end of the receptive methods, dropping below even the bare awareness of vipassana (insight) meditation or dzogchen. As Keating suspected--and transpersonal psychology has subsequently confirmed--the more receptive the meditational method, the greater the involvement of the unconscious. Concentrative methods tend to retard this "unloading of the unconscious," as Keating terms it. Receptive methods, on the other hand, foster it, particularly in an intensive group situation such as at that pioneering Lama retreat. But Keating's real intuitive leap was to recognize the import of this observation: this unloading of the unconscious was not an inconsequential side effect, but a significant purification process at work. This was the connecting link he had long been looking for, between purification as traditionally presented in Christian teaching (as a reprogramming of conscious motivation, or the struggle against sin) and the realization by contemporary psychology that such reprogramming goes only skin-deep and in fact can cause serious damage if used for repression and denial of unconscious impulses. "The real ascesis is the purification of unconscious With centering prayer, one starts at the opposite end of the spectrum, "not with attention, but with intention," as Keating puts it. Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union L ¯ J motives," Keating had long argued--but how to get at them? With centering prayer as a catalyst for the release of unconscious elements, he found his tool and his paradigm. Apophatic Psychotherapy Keating's teaching begins by fundamentally repositioning meditation in the context of a spiritual praxis. Rather than seeing it as a tool for developing concentration, relaxing stress, or accessing higher states of consciousness, he sees it as a catalyst for the purification of the unconscious. This purification is itself prayer. It is not a preparation for relationship with the higher, but the relationship itself. Upon this cornerstone he builds his paradigm of "the Divine Therapy." How does this purification work? As the unconscious unloads during centering prayer, Keating teaches, these small purifications are actually a part of a larger project. One begins to dismantle the "false self,!' the needy, driven, unrecognized motivations that govern most of our untransformed human behavior. Dovetailing classic Christian teaching with contemporary psychology, Keating suggests the false self as a modern equivalent for the traditional concept of original sin. Beginning in infancy (or even before), each of us, in response to perceived thr¢ats to our well-being, develops a false self: a set of protective behaviors driven at root by a sense of need and lack. The essence of the false self is this driven, addictive energy, consisting of tremendous emotional investment in compensatory "programs for happiness," as Keating calls them. It is this false self .that we bring to the spiritual journey; our "true self" lies buried beneath the accretions and defenses. In all of us a huge amount of healing has to take place before our deep and authentic quest for union with God--which requires tremendous courage and inner p~'esence to sustain--escapes the gravitational pull of our psychological woundedness and self-justification. This, in essence, constitutes the spiritual journey. So far this is orthodox psychological and theological fare. But where Keating takes the boldest step is in his assertion that centering prayer is a direct catalyst for this purification of the false self. As one sits in centering prayer, with the intent to rest and trust in God, the unconscious begins to unload "the emotional junk of a lifetime." Repressed memories, pain, and accumulated dull hurt rise Review for Religious to the surface and are, through an attitude of gentle consent, allowed to depart. As Keating visualizes the process, The level of deep rest accessed during the prayer period loosens up the hardpan around the emotional weeds stored in the unconscious, of which the body seems to be the warehouse. The psyche begins to evacuate spontaneously the undigested emotional material of a lifetime, opening up new space for self-knowledge, freedom of choice, and the discovery of the divine presence within. As a consequence, a growing trust in God, a bonding with the Divine Therapist, enables us to endure the process. Thus. the gift of contemplative prayer is a practi-cal and essential tool for confronting the heart of the Christian ascesis--namely, the struggle with our uncon-scious motivation--while at the same time establishing the climate and necessary dispositions for a relationship with God and leading, if we persevere, to divine union.2 For me the most fruitful connection here is the linking of the "dark night" or "cloud of unknowing" of the traditional apophatic path and the psychological process--the "darkness" of the psyche. If psychoanalysis represents "cataphatic therapy"--using words, concepts, and awareness to illuminate the darkness of our inner ground--Keating is presenting centering prayer as a kind of "apophatic psychotherapy" ("apophatic" meaning that which points one toward the ineffable beyond all words, concepts, and forms). What really happens when one enters the cloud of unknowing--resting in God beyond thoughts, words, and feelings--is a profound healing of the emotional wounds of a lifetime. As these wounds are gradually brought to the surface and released in prayer (one simply lets them go nonpossessively, rather than retaining them for inspection as one does in psychoanalysis), the false self weakens and the true self grfidually emerges. For Keating this is the real meaning of the term "transforming union." As he states in Intimacy with God, "We can bring the false self to liturgy and to the reception of the sacraments, but we cannot bring the false self forever to contemplative prayer because it is the nature of contemplative prayer to dissolve it" (p. 98). Keating does not claim that such a practice replaces the need for ordinary psychotherapy. Indeed, material that arises out of the unconscious in prayer sometimes requires the assistance of psychotherapy, particularly in cases of retrieved memories of emotional or sexual abuse. But in centering prayer this healing and March-April 1999 Bourgeault * From Woundedness to Union purification occurs within the sanctuary of prayer, combined with a deepening trust in God. So, at the same time that healing is going on at the psychological level, a deepening of the spiritual faculties is occurring as well--recollection, vigilance, attention of the heart-- leading to a blossoming of the traditional theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. The Shape of the Journey Traditionally we are used to thinking of spiritual transformation as an ascent. The effects of a spiritua~ practice, we expect, are to make us more calm, more able to cope, more filled with equanimity. Keating's model, however, suggests a different scenario. The ascent is inextricably bound to a descent into the ground of our own psyche. Thus periods of psychological ferment and destabilization are signs that the journey is progressing, not that it is a failure. As the. practice of meditational.prayer loosens repressed material in the unconscious, the initial fruits of spiritual practice, may not be peace and enlightenment, but destabilization and the emergence into consciousness of considerable pain. One woman in our group in Maine experienced this process particularly vividly. After only a few weeks of regular practice of centering prayer, she found herself increasingly tense and irritable and frequently went home from meditation to pick a fight with her husband. She was tempted to quit, but with the encouragement of the group she stayed on and cooperated with the process. What was happening (rather quickly in her case) was that a brittle control--keeping everything at a superficial level of "niceness"--collapsed almost immediately in the face of her immersion in contemplative silence. She found herself face-to-face with a deep guilt about, her second marriage and her terror that God would punish both her and her husband with cancer. Needless to say, "resting" in such a God was not a tranquil experience! But with a good deal of courage she has been able to face these feelings, work through them, and reestablish a relationship with both her husband and God on a deeper, fleer level. In my own work with centering prayer, I have learned by repeated experience that the "reward" for a period of deepening practice is often the emergence of a patch of pain long buried followed by several days of emotional turmoil, Keating calls it "the Review for Religious archaeological dig." As trust grows in God and practice becomes more stable, we penetrate deeper and deeper down to the bedrock of pain, the origin of our personal false self. The results are often horrifying to ourselves. Yet, says Keating, this does not mean that the spiritual journey is a failure, but that it is doing its job. The fruits of this unloading are more than worth the pain. In response to each significant descent into the ground of our woundedness, there is a parallel ascent in the form of inner freedom, the experience of the fruits of the spirit, and beatitude. There are several practical implications to this idea, but the paramount one--for both spiritual seekers and spiritual guides--is to recognize that centering prayer is a psychological method and will produce results in that realm, some of them initially painful. In Intimacy with God Keating recounts how a graduate student recendy did a thesis on centering prayer, along with several forms of Eastern meditation, recommending them as a way to reduce anxiety. Keating wrote back to the man saying, "Centering prayer will reduce anxiety for perhaps the first three months. But, once the unconscious starts to unload, it will give you more anxiety than you ever had in your life." For individual practitioners he recommends a limited dosage-- twenty to thirty minutes twice a day is the normal iprescription--to prevent the premature emergence of material into consciousness. Ten-day retreats rely on a trained staff to help handle a more intensive unloading process. Keating insists that the method is safe and that only in the case of serious depression or psychotic symptoms should the prayer be discontinued. By interweaving the contemporary language of healing with the traditional language of holiness, Keating extends the range of both. His synthesis is spacious, with plenty of room for .growth. For those preoccupied with their own recovery from woundedness (and many come to centering prayer by way of the recovery movement), it provides a gende and supportive context in which the process can unfold. But recovery is not the endpoint. For Keating the real goal Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. March-April 1999 Bourgeault ¯ From Woundedness to Union of the inner transformation is not one's personal healing, but the ability to be a Christian as measured by the ability to follow the teachings of Christ all the way to mystical union. For in the final analysis it is Keating's own deep mystical spirit that undergirds the entire paradigm, offering .a scale as vast as the cosmos: There remains a further energy, which is reserved for the next life. That is ~vhat theologians call the Beatific Vision. This requires freedom from the limitations of the physical body in order to experience it. This energy is so intense that, if it were not mediated by the ordinary affairs of daily life that distract us from continual contact with the divine energy, we would turn into a grease spot. This is the energy that lights the universe and forms the whirling nebulae. We can receive only a little of it at a time. In heaven we can have all we want.3 Toward an Intermediate Christianity Keating's thinking has evolved considerably since his interview with Needleman years ago, and it is still evolving. Many of his observations bear much more dialogue and fine-tuning, but at this point his appears to be a cohesive new.synthesis that offers a significant first step in the direction of a functional "intermediate Christianity." Clearly gaps are being bridged. The first of these is the gap between theory, and practice: Keating's method seems to provide a way for stones to become water. By restoring a meditational praxis--and one so uniquely consonant with the basic modality of Christianity--he has created an inner laboratory for practicing the basic gesture of faith. I have watched people like the woman in Maine confront their woundedness, heal, and come alive spiritually as they make the connection between their daily lives and what goes on in prayer. Second, Keating has bridged the gap between contemporary psychology and the traditional language of spiritual purification. By repositioning meditation as a tool for purification of the unconscious--and by insisting that people do it, not just talk about it--he can be faithful to contemporary models of healing while pointing the way beyond, toward profound inner transformation in ever deepening surrender. In so doing, he has rescued us both from the vagueness of contemporary psychojargon and from the violence of traditional metaphors based on renunciation, vigilance, and Review for Religious "spiritual warfare" (as if a part of us had to be killed, or at least locked up, in order for holiness to grow). For Keating, spiritual transformation is gentle, ever-so-gentle, and holds always before one the need for integration of psyche and spirit. The one cannot dominate the other; they must proceed apace. If the spirit's role is to be strong, the psyche's is to be vulnerable, and the lion must lie down with the lamb before the peaceable kingdom will reign within. The touchstones of the entire teaching are gentleness, patience, consent, and a willingness to let the process of integration unfold with its own pace and authenticity. Of course there is woundedness, but there is holiness as well. How the two come together--not which wins, but how they join-- constitutes the unique and profound meaning of one's life, the emergence of the true self, transformed in Christ. Of Thomas Keating's many contributions~ this one is for me the most powerful. ~r Notes l Jacob Needleman, Lost Christianity (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1980), p. 119. 2 Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God (New York: Crossroad, 1994), p. 3. 3 Keating, p. 103. Resurrection Power Behold the slender shoot Reaching for the light, The flower just unfurled, The barren branch Heavy with blossoms. Here is the Force That walked out of the tomb, Conquering our worst foe. Here is Life incorruptible, The Risen One waiting To spring forth in you. Teresa Burleson March-April 1999 PAMELA A. SMITH On the Go with Chronic Illness, Sitting Still with Mark How does anyone with a long-term, life-threatening, complex, and confounding chronic illness stay with it and retain humor and hope for the long haul? How does one take in and make sense of the regular reminders from endocrinologist, internist, and consulting counselor that it does inevitably get less manageable and, yes, worse? How does one stay happily productive in the face of the evidence that most folks in the same situation have long since quit work and gone on disability leave? What is the Christian mix of resignation and stubbornness, relaxation and fight, that makes it possible to slow down and still go barreling forward? These were some of the questions--maybe the most critical ones--which I carried with me on a rainy March day to a hideaway in close proximity to tentatively budding trees and a horse pasture still tinged with the orange and yellow of winter grass. The evergreen shrubs and hedge persisted, drippingly at the moment, around the Michigan country home to which I retreated (with all my griefs in my arms, as Dylan Thomas said of lovers, and all those griefs probably everywhere else too). My IDDM--insulin-dependent diabetes mellitus, long ago labeled "britde"--was afflicting me with "diabetic fatigue," I had recently told my boss, the rector of a seminary. He affirmed my request to take some needed time away. I can get a bit gl

Issue 50.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1991. ; Volume 50 Number 6 November/December 1991 Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister Song of the Groom The Erosion of Faith The Prayer of Stupidity R~vtEw FOR Rt~l.~C~OUs (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Boulevard, Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO and additional offices. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to REVIEW ~'Oa RELIGIOUS; P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Subscription rates: Single copy $3.50 plus mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs; two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription informa-tion and mailing costs. © 1991 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Michael G. Harter, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS o 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ".ST.LOUIS, MO 63108 1.91 PRISMS . For those who take their Christian calendar for granted, the celebration of Christmas day seems more an ordinary part of the secular year than the extraordinary event it is. in the case of the business retailer the days leading up to Christmas become the watershed for a profitable sales year. For those in school the Christmas season marks ihe end of a semester, perhaps a gradu-ation, or at least a holiday time. There are large parts of Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, and Hindu worlds where Christmas remains a Western cultural "playtime" invention. And what is Christmas really for us? Christmas celebrates an almost unbelievable reality: God being born as a human being, as a rather ordinary helpless baby. As usual with the arrival of a baby, Christmas represents jby, and with the magical ingredients of angels singing, shepherds watching, and Magi adoring we seem to hold Life with a gentle and light touch. Yet we cannot ignore the dark side of Christmas and the various struggles present within its story, such as the massacre of the innocent babies and the refugee reality of this young family in Egypt. One continuing struggle we all enter into as Christians is in believing that God loves this tangled human world so much. Another cont(mpo~:ary area of con-flict for us lies in the chosen limitations which God takes on in being human, for example, in being male, not female, in being Jewish, not Irish, Polish, or Japanese, in being an uneducated, itinerant preacher, not a priest, a lawyer, or a successful financier. Certain things will be remembered about Jesus-- this God-man--ways of speaking, the kinds of stories he told, his program for what it means to be blessed. All of this sets up the potential for more conflict and misunderstanding from this Middle Eastern way of approaching life so different from our own. Perhaps in our time we need to enter into Christmas more from God's point of view of our human world rather than fixating on our own conflictual struggles. Today it seems that causes and movements, allegiances and preju-dices, tend to make us small, mean, and even vindictive. Christmas take on new importance for Us Christians when the reality we celebrate allows us to identify with God in smallness and in the mean things of this world. We enter a little more lightly and gently into the conflict of limitations which God so eagerly took on in Jesus--the one we call our Vindicator. God desires to minister to a world out of love even though some forms and 801 [109 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 expressions of love always seem to be the source of so much misunderstand-ing and conflict. As a tribute to John of the Cross as we close the four hun-dredth anniversary celebration, Kevin Culligan focuses upon John's : m~mstry--like God's-~coming from an ardent lover. Always the energy of love which seeks union and draws forth imitation enhances at the same time the differentiation of the ones in love. Teilhard de Chardin's evolution axiom, "union differentiates," restates more secularly the Pauline concept of the glory of differences in hands and feet and eye within the Body of Christ--all united in the love of Christ in God. Our contemporary struggle with our own human sexuality in relating to our Christian God needs to find softer focus within the light of Christmas. Maybe there is a kind of divine humor in speaking and relating to God in masculine and feminine imagery. After all, if sexuality makes no sense in referring to our trinitarian God's life, at least the origins of our own human sexuality--limiting as it is in its male and female forms--stem from our cre-ator God of love. And so in accentuating our masculine and feminine reali-ties we reflect back some kind of reality within God's life. Jesus only makes concrete in his very person the struggle of our human love of God--both towards himself and to the God he calls abba, Father. The paradoxes involved in language about God and in responding to a God so intimately involved with us human beings--"male and female God created them"-~are touched upon by two authors in this issue, Robert Annechino and Nancy Cross, as they consider the experience of our loving God and God's loving us. Hennessy's expansion of the Marian mysteries in the public ministry of Jesus adds balance and fullness to our entering into salvation events. Limits in our loving in the form of narcissism is touched upon by Markham and Sofield. O'Hea looks to its roots in the erosion of faith. Darkness even in our loving response in prayer is considered by Dent and Ostini. Ottensmeyer, with a certain lightness of touch, has us take hold of what we might call our perversity principles. The poem, "Monastic Ruminations," by Auer and the article "Messiaenic Epiphany: '. amidst animals, Love is born'" by Schloesser are intended as two special, and different, love-gifts to our readers. May the God enfleshed for us, celebrated anew this Christmas season, help us touch issues and challenges of our times lightly, gently, and with grace. David L. Fleming, S.J. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister: John of the Cross's Lived Example Kevin Culligan, O.C.D. This article is an edited version of a talk Father Kevin gave in December 1990 at the beginning of the fourth-centenary commemoration of St. John of the Cross's death in 1591. Father Kevin was his province's provincial and is now its director of continu-ing education and ongoing formation. His address is Discalced Carmelites; P.O. Box 429; Hinton, West Virginia 25951-0429. A number of years ago, at a seminar on St. John of the Cross and Spiritual Direction for directors of formation in religious communities, one of the par-ticipants told the group that he had come to our seminar in secret: "If my community knew I was participating in a seminar on St. John of the Cross, they would think I had gone off the deep end and would probably remove me from office to protect our novices." For me that remark sadly illustrates the poor image St. John of the Cross has for many clergy, religious, and laity in the United States. In 1926 Pius XI proclaimed him a doctor of the Church precisely because his writings were judged, after three and half centuries of thorough examination, to have universal value for the spiritual formation of Christians. Yet, for most American Catholics today, John is little known and his writings are a closed book. Many think of him primarily a's a mystic and poet, and so have difficulty identifying with him or believing that his teachings have much value for ordinary practical Christian living. Others, like the great American psycholo-gist and philosopher William James, have read his writings but consider him a negative ascetic, admirable in his personal austerities, perhaps, but whose teaching--"to come to possess all, desire the possession of nothing" (Ascent 1.13.11)--is psychologically dangerous. Even the images of John in reli-gious art, where he is usually portrayed embracing a cross, scare people. In Carmel we think of St. John of the Cross differently. He is our spiritu- 803 ~104 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 al father. We have experienced that his teaching, while challenging, is filled with practical wisdom. We regret that he is so little known and so negatively perceived in the United States because we believe he offers adult Christians a "spirituality with substance," as John Welch, O.Carm., states in his recent book, When Gods Die: An Introduction to John of the Cross. Thus, during the celebration of the fourth centenary of his holy death on December 14, 1591, we challenge ourselves to make his life and writings more accessible to our brothers and sisters in the United States. We hope many will discover him and find in this sixteenth-century Spanish friar a sure guide for our com-mon journey toward union with God. This article, then, considers John less as poet and mystic than as pastoral minister. As an ordained priest he made ministry to others the primary activi-ty and absorbing concern of his adult life. Even as a youngster he cared for others. Years later, his greatest writings on the spiritual life emerged from his ministry of spiritual direction. He wrote his famous diptych, The Ascent of Mount Carmel and The Dark Night, for other Carmelites, both friars and nuns, "since they were the ones who asked me to write this work" (Ascent, prologue, 9). His other two masterpieces in spirituality, The Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame of Love, were written for two women he served as spiritual director, one a Carmelite nun, the other a widow. By looking at John as priest, as pastoral minister, we may get insights that further the most exciting development in the post-Vatican II Church, the opening of pastoral ministry to all. People have been newly reminded that pastoral ministry is not solely an obligation assumed at ordination or religious profession, but a responsibility that flows from our baptism and confirmation. Specifically, John contributes a fresh way of conceiving a pastoral min-ister, not only a "wounded healer" as Henri Nouwen has suggested,I or a "skilled helper" in the phrase of Gerard Egan,2 but also as an "ardent lover," a phrase which I believe aptly captures John's practice of pastoral ministry. John's Preparation for Ministry In 1567 Juan de Yepes--known then in the Carmelite order as Juan de Santo Matfa or John of St. Matthias--was ordained to the priesthood in the university city of Salamanca. Shortly after, in his home town of Medina del Campo, he met for the first time Teresa of Avila, who persuaded him to forgo his plans to join the stricter Carthusian order in order to assist her in reforming their own Carmelites. John had already been involved in ministry before 1567. From 1556 to 1562, as an adolescent between the ages of fourteen and twenty, he lived in a hospital, where he served the sick as an orderly and begged alms for them in Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister / 805 the streets. He would continue to serve the sick faithfully throughout his life. But the two major events of 1567--his priestly ordination and his first meet-ing with Teresa~determined the character of his pastoral ministry until his death twenty-four years later, in 1591 at the age of forty-nine. Everything that took place in his life before 1567 was but a preparation for the variety of pastoral services he would perform as a priest and a close associate of Teresa of Jesus. John's remote preparation for ministry began early. He was raised in a single-parent home. His father, Gonzalo de Yepes, died from the effects of poverty and famine shortly after John's birth in 1542 in the small Castilian farming village of Fontiveros, twenty-five miles northwest of Avila. John's father had belonged to a noble Toledo family with a prosperous silk business. He left a promising career in the family business to marry John's mother, Catalina Alvarez, a "poor but beautiful" weaving girl originally from Toledo whom Gonzalo had met on one of his business trips. Because his family dis-owned him for marrying beneath his position in life, Gonzalo joined his wife as a weaver in order to make a living. Into these poor circumstances he and Catalina brought three sons in twelve years, John being the youngest. Undoubtedly, in the years following the death of her husband and also her second son, Luis, who died of malnutrition not long after his father, Catalina repeated again and again the lesson and example of her husband's life to her two surviving sons: "Love," she probably said to them, "demands giving everything, just as your father gave up everything for me." Because of their poverty, Catalina turned to the Church for help in rais-ing her youngest son. She placed John in a residential school for orphans and children of the poor.in Medina del Campo, where she moved her little family in 1551. There John would be fed, clothed, and taught the fundamentals of his religion, and would learn a trade. At fourteen he was placed in a hospital, where he came under the formative influence of its chaplain and administra-tor, Don Alonso Alvarez de Toledo. Don Alonso carefully guided the young John and made it possible for him to study the humanities in the Jesuit col-lege in Medina, where he graduated at the age of twenty-one. Shortly afterwards John entered the Carmelites in Medina. Although formed by the role modeling of a diocesan priest and formally educated by the Jesuits, John apparently chose to enter the Carmelites, a Marian and con-templative order, because of his devotion to the Virgin and to prayer. The University of Salamanca After his year's novitiate, the Carmelites sent him to the University of Salamanca for a four-year course in the arts and theology. In the mid-six- 1~06 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 teenth century, Salamanca was a leading center of ecclesiastical learning and at the height of a neo-Scholastic revival. Its faculty included great scholars such as Fray Luis de Le6n, the Augustinian poet and translator of Sacred Scripture, and learned Dominican commentators on the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. There John became proficient in Sacred Scripture, theolo-gy, and Thomistic psychology, three fields of study that would be essential for the years of ministry ahead of him. These three disciplines, together with his own personal experience, pro-vided the solid bases for the treatises on mystical theology he would later write. Almost every page of these writings contains quotations from the Bible. "Taking Scripture as our guide," he writes in the opening of The Ascent of Mount Carmel, "we do not err, since the Holy Spirit speaks to us through it" (Ascent, prologue, 2). His theology training reveals itself in his continual reminders that God is both transcendent and immanent, demanding that our relationship with God be based on faith and unceasing prayer. And in Thomistic psychology he found a conceptual tool to explain God's work in the human soul. For example, he used the Thomistic concept of active and passive intel-lect to explain this mysterious paradox: although we are limited in our intel-lectual ability to actively form adequate ideas of God, we are virtually unlimited in our capacity to passively receive God's own loving knowledge. Therefore, John taught that one of the major challenges of the spiritual jour-ney to union with God is to not allow our finite understanding of God to become an obstacle to receiving God's own infinite loving knowledge which he communicates to us in contemplation. John considered the knowledge of psychology to be of crucial impor-tance for the ministry of spiritual direction. Writing some twenty years later in his Living Flame of Love, he severely criticizes incompetent spiritual directors, not because their knowledge of theology and Scripture is inade-quate, but for their deficient knowledge of the human person. Because they fail to understand the full depths of the human "spirit" and its laws of opera-tion, incompetent spiritual directors hold persons in the stage of beginners in the spiritual life and never permit them to pass into the interior depths of the soul where God is leading them so that he may communicate with them and unite them totally with himself (Flame, 3.30ff, esp. 44 and 54). Preaching Following John's ordination to the priesthood and his commitment, approved by his religious superiors, to assist Teresa in her reform of Carmel, he was assigned by his provincial to the first reformed community of friars. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister it was located at Duruelo, a small crossroads in the Castilian plains west of Avila. There the friars lived an austere community life, joined with the min-istries of hearing confessions, preaching, and celebrating liturgies in neigh-boring villages. John was not kriown as a great preacher, although we may assume he preached regularly throughout his years of priestly ministry. None of his ser-mons has come down to us, but he does share his theological reflection on this ministry in The Ascent of Mount Carmel, written some fifteen years later. He says: The preacher., should., keep in mind that preaching is more a spiri-tual practice than a vocal one. For although it is practiced through exteri-or words, it has no force or efficacy save from the interior spirit. No matter how lofty the doctrine preached, or polished the rhetoric, or sub-lime the style in which the preaching is clothed, the profit does not ordi-narily increase because of these means in themselves; it comes from the spirit of the preacher. The profit is usually commensurate with the [preacher's] interior preparedness. It is commonly said that as the master, so usually is the disciple . We frequently see, insofar as it is possible to judge here below, that the better the life of the preacher the more abundant the fruit, no matter how lowly his style, poor his rhetoric, and plain the doctrine. For the living spirit enkindles fire. But when this spirit is wanting, the gain is small, however sublime the style and doctrine. Although it is true that good style, gestures, sublime doctrine, and well-chosen words are more moving and productive of effect when accompanied by this good spirit, yet, with-out it, even though delightful and pleasing to the senses and the intellect, the sermon imparts little or no devotion to the will (Ascent 3.45.1-4). Confessor and Spiritual Guide At Duruelo he also began what was eventually to become his primary ministry, forming souls as their confessor and spiritual guide, a ministry he carried on almost uninterruptedly for the next twenty-four years. He was appointed master of novices for the men who joined the reform. In the years that followed, he was successively master of Carmelite students at Alcal~i de Henares, spiritual director of St.Teresa for five years, regular weekly con-fessor to her 130 nuns in the monastery of the Incarnation in Avila, master of students at the Carmelite college in Baeza in Andalusia, and regular confes-sor to the Carmelite nuns in the convents at Beas, Granada, and Segovia. In addition to these assigned positions within the Carmelite order, he carried on an extensive ministry of spiritual direction with persons outside it. He served large numbers of men and women from every phase of the Christian life, from its earliest stage of conversion to the heights of mysti-cism. These persons included: young people seeking guidance and support in I~0~1 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 determining their vocation in life; men and women troubled by scrupulosity, excessive guilt, psychosomatic anxiety; profoundly disturbed hysterical and paranoid personalities manifesting bizarre forms of religious behavior; and those with the normal problems in the spiritual life such as temptations against God,s law, difficulties in prayer, and feelings of dryness, desolation, and emptiness. The biographical data indicate that John rendered his spiritual service "without distinction of persons." He welcomed all who came to him for help; both inside and outside the confessional--religious, clergy, laity, young and old, rich and poor. His ministry extended to the entire Christian commu-nity, not simply to an elite few who held positions of privilege in society or who enjoyed a reputation for exalted spirituality. From these historical records, I estimate that during one eighteen-month period in 1587-1588 in Andalusia his ministry as spiritual guide and confessor included nearly a thousand .persons in and outside the Carmelite order. With all he fostered the same goals: union with God; imitation of Jesus Christ; deeper faith, hope, and love; continu~il prayer and mortification 6f every desire not ordered to the love and service of God; transformation of the personality through contemplation. Administration As Teresa's reform progressed, her friars eventually became, in 1580, a separate province within the friars of the Ancient Observance a, nd, in 1588, a separate congregation with their own vicar-general. As these developments occurred, John's fellow friars called upon him to fulfill various administra-tive offices within the reform. In 1578 he was appointed local superior of the community at El Calvario in the Sierra de Cazorla mountains in Andalusia. The following year he o~ened the Carmelite seminary in the Andalusian city of Baeza and served as rector there until i582. In 1582 he began six years as prior of the friars' community in Granada, the last two years of which he also served as vicar-provincial for Andalusia. In 1588 he was appointed to a threeryear term on the order's general council, during which time he was also local superior of the friars' community in Segovia. For fourteen straight years he was deeply involved in the administration of a new and growing order, establishing new communities, building new monasteries, providing for the formation and education of new members, and making canonical visitations of communities of both friars and nuns. His most intense period of administrative activity was the two years from 1585 to 1587, when he was prior of the monastery in Granada and Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister vicar-provincial of Andalusia. He was thus responsible, not only for his own local community in Granada, but also for seven other monasteries of friars and five convents of nuns scattered over thirty thousand Andalusian square miles, from Caravaca in the east to Seville in the west, and from C6rdoba in the north to M~ilaga in the south. To visit each community at least once a year as his office required meant almost continual travel, by foot or by donkey, frequently under a blazing sun, over dusty, rugged, winding, and at times mountainous roads, spending nights sleeping in open fields or in boisterous roadside inns. Five years later, in June 1591, at the friars' general chapter in Madrid, the burdens of office--both of formation and administration--were lifted from John's shoulders for the first time in thirteen years. He was to prepare for the Mexican missions, a directive that was later rescinded. In September 1591, his leg became seriously infected, leading to the illness which brought his death on December 14, 1591. During the last five months of his life, he had the physica! solitude he craved since his ordination to the priesthood twenty-four years earlier. These few months were the first time since he was ordained, save for nearly a year when he was imprisoned in Toledo on a charge of disobedience to his Carmelite superiors, that~he was without active pastoral care of souls. He wrote to Sister Anne of Jesus Jimena in July 1591: "Being freed and relieved from the care of souls, I can, if I want, and with God's help, enjoy peace, solitude, and the delightful fruit of forgetfulness of self and of all things. It is also good for others that ! be separated from them, for thus they will be freed of the faults they would have committed on account of my misery." Writing John was now no longer in direct service to others, but indirectly he con-tinued his ministry through writing. Living in a small hermitage in the Sierra Morena mountains in Andalusia, he continued to provide spiritual direction through personal letters and worked on revisions of his two spiritual master-pieces, The Spiritual Canticle and The Living Flame of Love. Both of these treatises were written for his directees, the former for the Carmelite nun Anne of Jesus Lobera and the latter for the lay woman Dofia Ana Pefialosa. Writing became for John, not a hobby, but an essential part of his pas-toral ministry. When a Carmelite nun once asked him if his poetic inspira-tions were from God, he replied, "Sometimes they came to me from God and at other times I sought them." John undoubtedly wrote during his early years in college and as a Carmelite. However, the writings we have today begin with his period of 810 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 imprisonment in Toledo and continue through the last thirteen years of his life, when he was between the ages of thirty-six and forty-nine. The nine-month imprisonment was the tragic result of conflicting jur!sdictions direct-ing the early days of Teresa's reform. This placed John in the. awkward position where fidelity to Teresa's reform, supported by the Holy See through the king of Spain, Philip II, appeared as di'sobedience to his Carmelite superiors, punishable by confinement in the monastery prison. In his prison cell in the Carmelite monastery at Toledo, John began his poem The Spiritual Canticle. Its opening lines sugges.t that poetry provided him a way of coping with the feelings of abandonment by God and spiritual desolation brought on by his imprisonment. He writes: Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning? You fled like the stag After wounding me; I went out calling You, and You were gone. However, in the years following his dramatic escape from Toledo, John continued to write poetry to express the deepest longings of his heart for God and to capture as best he could in human language his ineffable experi-ences of divine union. More than merely self-expression, John's poetry became pan of his ministry. His pedagogy involved sharing his poems with his Carmelite brothers and sisters and his directees to teach them about the human person's union with God. They, in turn, requested a fuller explanation of these teachings in prose. He responded with three major treatises in spiri-tuality- the prose commentaries on his poems The Dark Night, The Spiritual Canticle, and The Living Flame of Love. Had John not been involved in the ministry of spiritual direction, it is likely that we would still have his poetry, but not the prose commentaries which today, four centuries later, continue to provide reliable spiritual guidance to millions of readers of all faiths for the journey to union with God. A Man on the Move This overview of John of the Cross's ministry hardly leaves us with the image most have of him--a mystic on the mountaintop, with abundant soli-tude to explore his relationship with God and the leisure to write lyric poet-ry. Rather, we see a man on the move--preaching, hearing, confessions, providing spiritual guidance, studying the architectural plans and financial figures of new monasteries, at his desk writing for others; in short, a man deeply committed to pastoral ministry. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister / I~'1"1 True, by nature he was deeply introverted. His heart's desire was for solitude. He longed to be a solitary Carthusian before he met Teresa of Jesus, and when finally, after twenty-four years of pastoral ministry, he was free to be in a mountain hermitage, he wrote to Dofia Ana Pefialosa: "I am indeed very happy in this holy solitude." Nonetheless, his first commitment was to God, who called him out of himself to share his many gifts with others in pastoral ministry; in responding to this call, he discovered for himself the power and beauty of his own gifts. And these same gifts continue to be an enrichment for us all today. Jesus Christ, the Motive for John's Ministry John's ministry was not an outlet for an active temperament or a restless personality. It was, rather, his loving response to Jesus Christ, who was his Everything--"a brother, companion, master, ransom, and reward" (Ascent 2.22.5). John's ministry was his response to Jesus' love for him. In ministry he attempted to awaken others to Jesus' love for them. "Now we are telling you," John writes in his commentary on The Spiritual Canticle, "that you yourself are His dwelling and His secret chamber and hiding place . Since you know now that your desired Beloved lives hidden within your heart, strive to be really hidden with Him, and you will embrace Him within you and experience Him with loving affection" (Canticle 1.7 and 10). Jesus, too, was John's exemplar for ministry, especially in his kenosis, his self-emptying on the cross. From this John concluded that effective min-istry arises, not from a multiplicity of activity, but from union with Jesus' life-giving death. When he joined Teresa's reform, this insight prompted him to change his name from John of St. Matthias to John of the Cross. Later it led him to remind "true spiritual persons". "that their union with God and the greatness of the work they accomplish will be measured by their annihi-lation for God in the sensory and spiritual parts of their soul. [For] the jour-ney [to union with God] does not consist in recreations, experiences, and spiritual feelings, but in the living, sensory and spiritual, exterior and interi-or, death of the cross (Ascent 2.7.11). Mary, Model of Transformation John's experience of God's love in Jesus also determined his goal in ministry: to help persons let go of their inordinate attachments to creatures so that they might be free to receive the Creator's love into their lives, the divine love which both heals the effects of original sin and transforms human life into God's life. In this transformation, persons are united with the ~112 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 mind and heart of God. They respond to events in their lives with the mind and heart of Jesus. They are moved in everything by the Holy Spirit. In John's mind, the person who best embodies this transformation is the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is the "true daughter of God" in the passage quot-ed above. Furthermore, in The Ascent of Mount Carmel, describing the trans-formed Christian, John writes: "Such was the prayer and work of our Lady, the most glorious Virgin. Raised from the very beginning to this high state [of divine union and transformation in God], she never had the form of any creature impressed in her soul, nor was she moved by any, for she was always moved by the Holy Spirit" (Ascent 3.2.10). John's image of transformation was Mary, the Mother of Jesus. In his pastoral ministry he invited persons to imitate her simple faith in God so that they too might be transformed by the Holy Spirit. With this in mind he com-posed the following lyric that summarizes his entire spiritual doctrine: Del Verbo divino The Virgin, pregnant La Virgen prefiada With the Word of God, Viene de camino: Comes down the road: Si le dais posada. If only you'll shelter her. When we, like Mary, let go of everything that prevents us from being totally open to God's word, the Holy Spirit transforms us into her Son, the Word, Jesus. Two Difficulties Modem readers often have difficulty with John of the Cross's emphasis on purification through suffering. "Too negative," they say when they read a passage like this one from his Sayings of Light and Love: "God values in you an inclination to aridity and suffering for love of Him more than all possible consolations, spiritual visions, and meditations" (SLL 14). Yet anyone who has experienced the healing that comes from intense psychotherapy will, I think, appreciate the wisdom of this recommendation. For John, contempla-tion is, literally, psychotherapy--healing the soul. He is not teaching us how to arrive at ecstatic altered states of consciousness; rather, he is telling us how to heal the effects of original sin in our life. Effective psychotherapy demands a willingness to endure the pain that comes from an expanding awareness of our own ego-defense mechanisms and the consequent change of behavior necessary to break the compulsive repetition of self-defeating behavior. Similarly, John of the Cross explains that contemplation requires a readiness to accept the interior pain that accompanies a clearer insight into the disorder of our soul and our natural distance from the incomprehensible goodness of God. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister The healing of our souls begins when we open our lives to receive God's loving knowledge. We experience loving knowledge as a light, at times painful, which allows us to observe clearly the disorder that continues to operate in our daily lives. At the same time, this light lets us see as never before God's inexhaustible love for us. In this light we quite naturally let go of disordered attachments to our own self-interest (a letting go that brings the temporary pain of 1 oss and sadness) and become more attached to God's will, which ultimately brings peace to our inner lives, even as we deal with each day's problems. But even granting John's hypothesis that purification is a prerequisite for healing and transformation, many today still believe that his spiritual doctrine is too individualistic and exclusive, meant only for the few who choose an avowedly contemplative way of life. They see little relationship between his spirituality and the pressing social issues of our day, such as those addressed by the American bishops in their recent pastoral letters on peace and economic justice. Obviously, the issues John addressed four hundred years ago are not the same issues we face today, although sixteenth-century Spain was not without its wars and economic injustice. Nonetheless, Richard Hardy, one of John's modem biographers, has suggested new ways of interpreting his counsels on personal mortification that bring out their social significance. Addressing the Institute of Carmelite Studies in Boston a few years ago, Hardy pointed out this country's inordinate appetite for national security and an improved stan-dard of living, even while millions of our people live in poverty. In the face of this poverty, he suggested that John's counsels on the mortification of the emotions in order to dispose one's sensory life for union with God are also a prophetic social challenge to the American Church. Thus, St. John writes in The Ascent of Mount Carmel: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work;' not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty in everything in the world (Ascent 1.13.6). 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 These shocking words, directed to Carmelite religious in the sixteenth century committed by public vows to live in poverty, admittedly demand interpretation for Christians in twentieth-century America. Nevertheless, they challenge us, an affluent Christian community in a world where mil-lions are dying of starvation, to seek, not always the best and the most, but only the necessary, so that others in our world may also participate in their just share of the earth's goods, which God intends for all his children. Moreover, John teaches that when persons are deeply touched by God's love, their entire outlook on life is radically changed. Seeing now with God's eyes and feeling with Jesus' heart, they can no longer maintain racial preju-dices, exaggerated nationalism, or hearts closed to the world's suffering. The fruits of contemplation which John describes in his writings are precisely those which our bishops identify in their peace pastoral when they write: "The practice of contemplative prayer is especially valuable for advancing harmony and peace in the world. For this prayer rises, by divine grace, where there is total disarmament of the heart and unfolds in an experience of love which is the moving force of peace. Contemplation fosters a vision of the human family as united and interdependent in the mystery of God's love for all people" (The Challenge of Peace, no. 294). Conclusions What conclusions might we draw for pastoral ministry today from this review of John of the Cross's life and work? I suggest the following: 1. Preparation for ministry begins early in life, hopefully with baptism. Ministers for the Church will come forward from Christian families, parish-es, and schools where there is deep love, where serving others is a communi-cated value, and where role models and positive mentoring for ministry are present. 2. More immediate preparation for specialized ministries in the Church requires a solid grounding not only in Sacred Scripture and theology but especially in Christian anthropology, that is, a constant study, aided by human sciences, of the mystery of the human person in contemporary soci-ety. 3. Effective pastoral ministry, lay and ordained, depends first upon acquiring the skills necessary for a particular ministry and, second but more important, living daily Jesus' Paschal Mystery, the main source of effective ministry. 4. Christian ministers need clear images of Christian transformation to guide their activity, such as Mary, Mother of God and of the Church, Spouse of the Holy Spirit, Faithful Disciple of Jesus, and Queen of Apostles. Ardent Lover as Pastoral Minister 5. The spirituality that empowers Christian ministry realistically appre-ciates both the effects of original sin in our lives and the presence of God's never failing love to heal us. This spirituality seeks to overcome artificial dichotomies that undermine ministry, such as opposing social action and contemplative prayer, pastoral activity and artistic creativity. It encourages persons to bring forward under the guidance of the Holy Spirit their unique gifts for the building of Christ's Body, confident that such sharing of gifts leads to the discovery and realization of one's total person. Pastoral Minister as Ardent Lover Earlier I suggested that John inspires an image of the pastoral minister as an ardent lover. The Holy Spirit set him on fire with love for God, other persons, and all creation. Fire was John's most comprehensive symbol, as Professor Keith Egan demonstrated in his address to Carmel 200, the sym-posium in Baltimore in August 1990 honoring two hundred years of Carmelites in the United States.3 As a metaphor, fire suggests the purifica-tion of soul symbolized by "the dark night"; it also captures the mutual pas-sionate love of God and the human person conveyed through the erotic images of spiritual betrothal and marriage in the Spiritual Canticle. As a consuming fire slowly transforms a log into itself, so the Holy Spirit, the Living Flame of Love (Flame 1.3), transforms us into God, leaving us on fire with divine love for his people. The Church always needs pastoral ministers on fire with the love of the Holy Spirit, but never more than today in the United States. Archbishop Rembert Weakland of Milwaukee recently underscored the enervating polar-ization in the American Catholic community which hardens us into opposing ecclesiologies, unwilling to dialogue with one another, unable to tolerate dif-ferences, afraid to compromise in order to find a common way together.4 Pastoral ministry obviously must try to resolve our present polarities, not reinforce them. We are not likely to do this without the fire of God's love burning in our hearts, a love that results from a contemplative openness to God. In the Carmel 200 celebration mentioned above, Father Joseph Chinnici, O.EM., historian of American spirituality and currently provincial of the California Franciscans, offered the opinion that the failure since 1700 to cul-tivate the contemplative dimension of Christian life accounts in large mea-sure, not only for "our contemporary groping for a stable spiritual center," but also "for the stridency in today's Catholic community.''5 For years Thomas Merton alerted us to the dangers of this neglect, but only now are we seeing clearly our spiritual impoverishment as a Church and our need I~16 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 each day for God's wisdom and love, which, as St. John of the Cross teach-es, is contemplation's gift. In 1591, following the general chapter of the Teresian friars at Madrid, a Carmelite nunin Segovia, Maria of the Incarnation, wrote to John deploring the shabby treatment he received from his brothers in the reform who deprived him of all offic~ and planned to mission him to Mexico in return for his outspoken opposition to the policies of Father Nicholas Doria, the vicar-general, regarding Jerome Graci~in and the government of the Carmelite nuns. John wrote back on July 6, 1591: ". do not let what is happening to me, daughter, cause you any g.rief, for it does not cause me any. ¯. Men do not do these things, but God, who knows what is suitable for us and arranges things for our good. Think nothing else but that God ordains all, and where there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love . " Considering the circumstances in which they were written, these words bespeak the effects of contemplation in John of the Cross--a transformed consciousness and a nonviolent heart. They, perhaps more than anything else he wrote, cha.llenge the Catholic Church in the United States today. NOTES I Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society (Garden City, N.Y.: Imag~ Books, 1979). 2 Gerard Egan, The Skilled Helper: Models, Skills, and Methods for Effective Helping, 2nd edition (Monterey, Calif.: Brooks/Cole Publishing Co., 1982). 3 Keith Egan, "The Fire of Love: John of the Cross' Central Symbol of Contemplative Identity." Lecture given at Carmel 200: Contemp.lation and the Rediscovery of the American Soul, sponsored by the Carmelite nuns of Baltimore, held at Loyola College, Baltimore, August 12-18, 1990. 4 Rembert G. Weakland, O.S.B., "From Dream to Reality to Vision." Address given to the Future of the American Church conference, sponsored by Time Consultants, Washington D.C., Sept. 28, 1990. Printed in Origins 20, no. 18 (October 11, 1990): 289-293 5 Joseph P. Chinnici, O.EM., "The Politics of Mysticism: Church, State, and the Carmelite Tradition." Lecture at Carmel 200, Baltimore, August 12-18, 1990~ Messiaenic Epiphany: . amidst animals, Love is born Stephen Schloesser, S.J. Mr. Schloesser is a transitional deacon studying theology at Weston Co!lege. He resides at 15 Avon Street; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. The nineteenth and twentieth centuries, in their most profound manifestations, are centuries which have tried to live without tran-scendence. How to live without grace--that is the question that dominates the nineteenth century. The question of the twentieth cen-tury., has gradually been specified: how to live without grace and without justice? --Albert Camus, The Rebel (1951) I would like to stress the need for the Church today to be aware of its duty to bring to the world a sense of the sacred and the transcendent., i. In this way we can show to the world that we are a sign of something which is more meaning,ful and more complete than just the daily tragedies that all of us must face. --Rembert Weakland, "25 Years after the Council" (1990) A friend stopped me after class the other day and said, "You like twentieth-century organ music, don't you?" Grateful at last that life had sent a soul partner to accompany me on my solitary journey, I eagerly replied, "Yes! Do you? . No," she answered, "but a friend gave me a CD of Christmas music for the organ. I can't stand it. If you want it you can l~ave it." I took the disc gratefully and set out again on my journey, solitary still, but with a mission-ary's fervor. Twentieth-century music in general tends to distend: for lush romantic strings it seemingly substitutes barbed wire; for pastoral horns the intermit-tent siren. It attempts to speak in language too deep for words those feelings we prefer left unsaid: confusion in the face of chaos; despair over life's daily 817 I~1t~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 deaths; horror in the face of human atrocity. Twentieth-century music in gen-eral tends to express our culture's deepest pulses: a world seemingly devoid of grace and justice. And what about twentieth-century church music? The church music composer-historian Erik Routley once wrote that all authentically twentieth-century church music contains within its score a certain measure of "skepti-cism." I think he is right here, but in this Christmastide I suggest a more seasonal term: a certain measure of "scandal"; the "stumbling block" of the manger. For what faced the European church musicians after the Great War was nothing less than the scandal of Christianity: incarnation, cross, grace-- the works. How do church musicians remain faithful both to their experience of violence--this race, this culture, this epoch--and, at the same time, to their vision of confidence in Love's promise to triumph? Many--perhaps most--solve this dilemma (as so many of us do) by simply choosing one or the other, confidence or despair. We--players and listeners alike--are numbed by the banality or bludgeoned by the bombast. Yet, as Archbishop Rembert Weakland said once in an Advent homily, Christian liturgy (and the vision it ritualizes) insists that we always keep in mind both terms of the dialectic. At Christmas, we remember the price in Gethsemane of becoming human; on Good Friday, we remember the promise proclaimed at Easter. When our liturgy expresses joy unbridled by the mem-ory of death-~or grief unbalanced by the hope of resurrection--we have for-gotten the paradox: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. Whereas the French composer Claude Debussy had painted impression-istic passage.s, conveying the evanescence of time lost with large lush ensembles, the young Parisian Olivier Messiaen turned his attention to the other pole: he attempted time out of time. Messiaen discovered the genius unique to the organ: it can convey the illusion of eternity. The bang of a drum punctuates; the vibration of a piano wire inevitably dies; the singer must come up for air. But the organ, as Igor Stravinsky complained, is "the monster that does not breathe." In the organ, Messiaen and many after him found a new way of inviting the listener to experience the transcendent. On the other hand, these musicians were twentieth-century citizens, very much situated in history. The organ lost a genius when the young Jehan Alain was killed in the defense of France. The German Paul Hindemith fled to the United States under Nazi persecution while choral composer Hugo Distler took his own life under the same. Olivier Messiaen wrote and pre-miered his "Quartet for the End of Time"--beginning with "the harmonious silence of heaven"---while imprisoned in a German POW camp. They knew Messiaenic Epiphany / 8~9 firsthand the human potential for savagery, a fragile culture's collapse, the seeming triumph of death. Thus, they also employed the musical language of our time: barbed wire, screaming sirens, carefully constructed cacophony. Writing church music, they attempted to convey in their medium the experience of Christmas: that, in the midst of life's bleak midwinter, there lives "the dearest freshness deep down things." Their fusion of the languages of transcendence and of skepticism resulted in a radically new musical lan-guage, a nearly hypostatic union. In the midst of scandal (which their music never sidesteps), they stood apart from the aleatoric vogue, firm in hopeful trust, rooted in their vision of the immanent transcendent: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. I am glad for the gift of the CD, and I plan on listening to it this season. Not, of course, over Christmas dinner or while opening gifts under the tree or while rocking my niece to sleep in front of the crackling fire. For that I will listen to "The Messiah" or to the kids from King's College, or my moth-er will put on Nat King Cole or my father Johnny Cash . And not, of course, when the snow silently piles outside my Cambridge window, weigh-ing down the boughs as books weigh down me, streetlights highlighting Victorian crannies on neighboring homes. For that kind of delicious melan-choly only George Winston's "December" will do. I mean rather when I turn off the lights and light a candle, wrap a blan-ket round and stare into nothing: that is when I will play my new CD. Time and timelessness, scandal and hopeful trust, death and Love. I will think about them--Nazis and world war and concentration camps; and I will think about us---death squads and desert storms and Mount Pinatubo; and I will think about home--grandfather's Alzheimer's and grandmother's grief, a cousin's suicide, a friend's AIDS: "the daily tragedies that all of us must face." And then, I hope, as for magi on a journey to a manger, scanning the midwinter sky, it will light up the night, the sudden onslaught of insight-- the Epiphany--those artists attempted to convey: ¯. amidst animals, Love is born. 820 Monastic Ruminations I. Spring." The Russian Olive Tree in Meditation Park "The affection of love is a delicate plant. " --Gilbert of Hoyland Silver smells whiff past me, into me, Byzantine incense, perfume from a bazaar, a solitary pearled tree in the park odors the mind with deja vued dusty dreams shelved from disuse. Sable Lent fades into resurrected dappled blooms, the Russian Olive shimmers in newborn light, morning dew kisses its hoary-haired branches, while it speaks in hushed tones of hidden presence. II. Summer: Locust Trees along the Academy Entrance "Unity consists in singleness of love." --Bernard of Clairvaux Standing at attention, locust trees reach skyward, stretching limbs into lowlying clouds, each arm delicate, broken by storms, battered by winter's ice, survivors sentineled. Breezes sway the foliage to an unheard melody, rhythmically touching the tips of treed tendons, digits gnarled by seasonal change, each tree soloed, a monk reaching for God, separate, yet partnered, facing each day together yet aloned. 821 IlI. Autumn: The Monastic Cemetery "The treasure of our love is hidden in the field of our heart and lies buried in its very depth." --John of Ford The colors are deep across the valley-- red, burnt orange, yellow. Each vibrant tree grasping my throat and choking my breath away, death is viewed, keeping itself daily before our eyes. Fallen leafs encircle my feet, drawing my eyes to the stones neatly rowed, each with a face, a person I knew, a laugh recalling the past, now silent, earthbound, yet rejoicing beyond the eye. IV. Winter: Leafs Trapped in Collins Court "Love is solid. It may be fretted by annoyance, but it simply cannot be worn away." --John of Ford Leafs trapped within the courtyard beat bird-like against the mirrored windows, trying to escape the battering wind, fluttering desperately, vortexing, rising and falling, yet free. Columns rise, Stonehenge revisited, standing guard over the spectacle, silent seers, mutely observing the abused leafs, hostaged too, but immobile, the stationary monoliths envy the leafs bound nowhere yet unfettered. Benedict Auer, O.S.B. Saint Martin's College Lacey, Washington 98503 Song of the Groom: Spiritual Marriage and Masculinity Robert Annechino Robert Annechino has completed the graduate program in spiritual direction at the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, Washington, D.C. This article is taken from a paper written for the program. He is married and the father of three children, and is writing a book on masculine romantic spirituality. Correspondence would be wel-come at P.O. Box 14039; Rochester, New York 14614. All Christians have heard God addressed as "Father." Today we sometimes also hear God called upon as "Mother." In our mystical literature there is a long tradition that speaks of God or Christ as the "Bridegroom" of the soul. This article considers something we have heard next to nothing about: a Christian mystical experience that celebrates God as "Bride." Admittedly, such an idea seems peculiar at first, but perhaps its very anomaly is even more peculiar. Why has not Christianity admitted such a tradition when, as we shall see, many world religions have? How might an appreciation of the Divine Bride expand our understanding of God, of religious experience, and of ourselves as spiritual, social, and sexual beings, male and female? The awareness of God as Mother has been a gift and challenge of femi-nist spirituality. This alternate feminine image of God as the Divine Bride derives from the quest for an authentic contemporary masculine spirituality. Reflection by men on our experience as men will free us from the myopic assumption that male experience is normative of all human experience, and will bring the unique features of masculinity into sharp focus. To understand and revitalize the spiritual life of contemporary men, it is important to con-sider how we customarily recognize both maleness and holiness and how these conceptions connect and conflict. Richard Rohr, James Nelson, and John Carmody are some of the teachers who have explored male experiences of Christian faith and values. 822 Song of the Groom / 823 As evident in the work of Robert Bly and Robert Moore, an essential element of the men's movement is the recovery of the archetypes or models of male experience, which typify distinctive themes of male identity. Through the exploration of such heroic figures as the Wild Man, the King, the Warrior, the Trickster, the Lover, the Grief Man, and the Quester (which Robert Bly has aptly called the "Great Joys of Men"), contemporary men are gaining new understanding of their maleness and of the social expectations and personal conflicts which shape them. In Toward a Male Spirituality, John Carmody encourages men to come to God in and through the kinds of relationships that reflect the best of male experience, finding God as buddy, father, brother. He also seeks to open men to the possib!lity of finding God the Holy Spirit as the divine lover, in a spirituality of romancing,l But here, in the attempt to engage male romantic love as a spiritual symbol, we run into a barrier that challenges traditional Christian notions. This barrier has also been noted by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette in their book on the four major male archetypes, King, Warrior, Magician, Lover. Of these, they feel that the Lover has been the most repressed within Western religion. They describe the giftedness of the Lover so: For the man accessing the Lover, all things are bound to each other in mysterious ways. He sees, as we say, "the world in a grain of sand." This is the consciousness that knew long before the invention of holography that we live, in fact, in a "holographic" universe---one in which every pa~t, reflects every other in immediate and sympathetic union. It isn't just that the Lover energy sees the world in a grain of sand. He feels that this is so.2 The mature energy of the Lover is not exclusively nor even primarily expressed through sexual activity, but as a royal dignity which suffuses the entire person with gladness of heart and warm richness of being. While the Lover has never been articulated well for Christian women or men, I believe that histor!cally there has been a particular reluctanc~ to incorporate male erotic energy into religious expression, and this history needs to be under-stood and redressed. In a recent book on the feminist rhetoric of St. Teresa of Avila, Alison Weber maintains that medieval spirituality systematized two major images of the mystical journey.3 The first was .the sponsa Christi, the bride of Chris.t, an image drawn from the conventional feminine experience of romantic love and marriage. The second image was the miles Christi, the soldier of Christ, derived from the conventional male experience of war. In the sponsa Christi or bridal mysticism, we find that from the time of Origen the Song of Songs was lavishly allegorized as the mystical union of the soul, personified by the 1~24 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 Shulammite damsel, with the Lord as the shepherd/king. This imagery evolved into the classical descriptions of spiritual betrothals and spiritual marriage. It is certainly true that throughout the history of Christian spiritu-ality such imagery has been evoked by men as well as by women. In fact, most of its known expositors were male (since literature was a male domain). Yet today, when feminist theologians have tightly insisted that we consider the limitations levied by exclusive masculine language in relation to God, we might also ponder what diminishment lurks in the imagery of bridal mysticism. Why have men relied upon the erotic imagery of women to describe their love for God? Why is there no "bridegroom mysticism" call-ing up.on the natural erotic imagery of men? What would it take, and what would it mean, for Christian men to become free to pursue God as their Divine Bride? Bridegroom Mysticism: The Male Mysteries of God and Men At this point it is important to ask: Does it really matter whether we con-ceive of God as Father, Mother, Bridegroom, Bride, or in any of the person-al, transpersonal, or nonpersonal figures that have dawned in human consciousness as we encounter the great Mystery? If we give too much attention to the name, will God cease to be Mystery? I believe that the name only enhances the Mystery. If God is God, then the God of the naming is not different from the God of experiencing. Feminist theologians have wisely recognized that naming God is an act of self-revelation as well as God's rev-elation to us. With this in mind, let us consider what it means for men to name God as Father, Mother, and Bridegroom and then consider the alterna-tives of knowing God as the Divine Bride. Mary and Leon J. Podles, in an interesting article denouncing the "emas-culation of God," protest that the male image of God cannot be dispensed with arbitrarily. God the Father, they say, is a God of transcendence, stand-ing distinct from his creation, having created it in a male act of separation from himself: Why is God the Father a Father and not a mother? Maleness is a symbol of transcendence because the fundamental male experience, thal~ of fatherhood, of reproduction through ejaculation, is one of separation, while the fundamental female experience is one of prolonged and inti-mate union with the offspring through the long months of gestation and nursing. The male experience of the world is one of "either/or," "this, and not that," one of separation.4 The male image of God engages essential aspects of the male identity, which cannot be denied without denying the life quest of men. As many Song of the Groom / 895 writers have pointed out, male identity is usually first discovered in an act of distinction and separation.5 The little girl experiences continuity with her mother, their femininity uniting them (with both positive and toxic bonds). But the little boy becomes aware of his masculinity as being a difference between him and the close nurturing mother, and thus begins the male quest of distinction and separation. With this comes the need for the boy to affirm his maleness by connecting with his father. From here ensues the whole dynamic of dependence, independence, and eventual interdependence that are typical of healthy male development experiences that perhaps figure in the religious motifs of exile and redemption. And yet, while the maleness of God does engage these crucial aspects of men's experience, there is a subtle but clear possibility that it can also limit a man's sense of masculinity before God. The Podles' article, for example, refers to the Father God as "the Creator, before whom all else is female.''6 The inevitable presumption is that, if God is considered male, then all cre-ation, including humanity, is essentially feminine. Ironically, this might leave men castrated before God, their maleness exiling them from the "femi-nine" creation. As James Nelson has said: When God became male, males were divinized, and patriarchy had cos-mic blessing. At the same time we have resisted that one-sided masculin-ized deity, for a male God suggests to men their feminization. Language referring to the Church has long been feminized: "She is his new creation by water and the word." All of us, men as well as women, are "she's" when it comes to being the Church. That feels uncomfortable. Furthermore, a male God penetrates us. But to be penetrated by anyone or anything, even God, amounts to being womanized. It seems tanta-mount to a man's degradation, literally a loss of grade or status.7 Notions of "female submission" toward God have pervaded all of Christian spirituality, from pious popular devotions to the most rarefied con-templation. Even if he has not been exposed to the literature of bridal mysti-cism, consider what it has meant for ~i man; standing amid generations of male Christian mystics, to sense himself in a feminine role in relation to God. What does this imply about his maleness? The lavish descriptions of bridal mysticism, in which the feminine soul is wooed by the celestial Bridegroom, violate his natural desire as a man. Jungians may discern here the emergence of the inner anima, the feminine side of the male. But even if this were the case, what other problems are invoked in such an approach? Arthur Green has asked some important questions along this line: Is it really only women alone who are in need of feminine imagery? Do images of the divine feminine belong only to women? Might they not 826 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 belong to, and respond to the needs of, men as well as women? Or, as a friend posed the question a long time ago, with reference to Catholic spiritual literature, does Teresa of Avila need to be the bride of God more than John of the Cross? Does John need God the Father more than God the Mother? Indeed, is it Mother whom the passionat~ Teresa seeks so boldly? Might one not argue that men need the feminine, as women need the masculine, if religious life involves something like what the depth psychologists call a search for.polarities? In the course of our intense longing for the divine Other, a longing long depicted as having a strong erotic component, might it not be opposite rather than like that needs first to be sought out?8 And, while feminist theologians have contributed an important under-standing of the Divine Mother, the uncritical acceptance of God as Mother still may not fully open the feminiriity Of God to adult men. Robert Bly affirms that a man's encounter with the holy feminine, the "meeting with the gbd-woman in the garden," is a step beyond the parental drama: W~ can't stop the story here, because the feminine has not yet appeared. His mother, as the maternal form of the feminine, he has of course expe-rienced, but that is all. And now he is about to meet the feminine in a nonmatemal form~ in its powerful, blossoming, savvy, wild, instigating, erotic, playful form.9 In God the Bride, we find a fully femii~ine expression of divinity, one who preserves for men the essential Otherness that is so integral to their psy-che. As Bride, God is even more "Other" than Father, yet it is an otherness which is fantastically attractive, and invites the man to participation and union. The Divine Bride welcomes a mal6 spiritual identity that is fully adult and ~ully masculine. Bridegroom Spirituality and the "Way of the Warrior" Now let us turn briefly to Alison Weber's second image of classical Christian mysticism, the image of the miles Christi, the soldii~r of Christ, a mas~tiline image that has found wide expression historically, from the ladder mysticism of John Climacus, through the service mysticism of Ignatius LoyolL Today one might well ask if this militant motif, in an age of nuclear and chemical weapons, terrorism, and environmental desecration, is at all appropriate. But here the expositors of what has been called "the way of the warrior" must challenge, nuance, and explain such imagery. The passionate denial of ~he flesh in an intent focus upon. a goal is a real and necessary aspect of human life, and it is fitting that it find expression in the mystical "way of the warrior." Many men and women relate vitally to God on this path, at least for a good part of their lives. The "call of the King" in Ignatius Song of the Groom / 827 Loyola's Spiritual Exercises presents a spirituality that springs from this rich sense of participation and mission. Some expositors of male spirituality seem to equate it exclusively with the way of the warrior, but the male "way of the lover" (bridegroom mysti-cism) is both a complement and an alternative to the way of the warrior. While it may be important to question the limitations of the miles Christi, it is emphatically not the role of bridegroom mysticism to neutralize or domes-ticate the way of the warrior, but to enhance, inflame, and fulfill it. The way of the warrior celebrates a clearly focused intent to uphold righteousness regardless of personal cost. This fervent passion unites the way of the war-rior with the way of love. But the miles Christi can become morbid if it arbi-trarily divorces itself from love, in any of its forms, including the erotic. Such denial inflicts a cramped, neurotic quest for control, a pseudospirituali-ty that is myopically fixated and incapable of the panoramic awareness exer-cised by the true warrior. Sadly, such diminishment has all too often been the conventional model of holiness, reflected in a celibacy that is sterile rather than full, in the collapsed mentality described by Alan Watts: The opposition of spirit to both nature and sexuality is the opposition of the conscious will, of the ego, to that which it cannot control. If sexual abstinence is, as in so many spiritual traditions, the condition of enhanced consciousness, it is because consciousness as we know it is an act of restraint . This is clearly the reaction of one for whom the soul, the will, the spiritual part of man, identified with that form of conscious-ness which we have seen to be a partial and exclusive mode of attention. It is the mode of attention which grasps and orders the world by seeing it as one-at-a-time things, excluding and ignoring the rest . Obviously, '~he sexual function is one of the most powerfu| biological manifes'ta'tions of biological spontaneity, and thus more especially difficult for the will to control . But this mode of control is a peculiar example of the proverb that nothing fails like success. For the more consciousness is individualized by the success of the will, the more everything outside the individual seems to be a threat--including not only the external world but also the "external" and uncontrolled spontaneity of one's own body. ¯. Hence there arises the desire to protect the ego from an alien spontane-ity by withdrawal from the natural world into a realm of pure conscious-ness or spirit.~° The Divine Bride brings men the gift of seeing the totality within the par-ticular, and the particular within the totality. She wards off all brittle reduc-tionism. Nor does She allow the will to sink into a quietist slumber. Rather She preserves full intentionality of the will, but in a mode that Gerald May aptly describes as open "willingness" rather than compulsive "willfulness.''11 While the impulse to relate to God as Bride has not been entirely absent t~91~ Review for Religious, November-December 1991 in Christian mysticism, it is certainly not in the mainstream of our tradition. For historical models we must turn to its expressions in other religious tradi-tions, and explore some out-of-the-way territories in our own history. But the love-quest for God the Bride is worthy of our attention. The Divine Bride in Non-Christian Traditions In the Jewish writings we meet the evocative figure of Wisdom, as expressed in the book of Proverbs and throughout the Scriptures. Wisdom emerges not as an abstract attribute of God, but as a mysterious and primor-dial Woman. In Proverbs, she boasts her own preeminence in her dalliance with Yahweh: "When He laid down the foundations of the earth, I was by His side, a master craftsman, delighting Him day after day, ever at play in His presence, at play everywhere in His world, delighting to be with the sons of men" (Pr 8:29-31). In the Wisdom literature we read how those who love the Lord also take Wisdom as their own: "She [Wisdom] it was I loved and searched for from my youth; I resolved to have her as my bride, I fell in love with her beauty" (Ws 8:2). In Western Christian exegesis, Wisdom was identified with the Logos, or as a personification of an attribute of God. But within the Jewish tradition the figure of Wisdom evolved into Shekhinah, the Presence or Dwelling of divinity. Among the Kabbalistic Jews in the thirteenth century, She was esteemed as no less than a divine hypostasis, the feminine consort of the . Lord. The eminent Kabbalistic scholar Gershom Scholem regards this as one of the most powerful and far-reaching insights of Jewish mysticism.12 The recognition of Shekhinah was not only an intellectual triumph, but also ennobled human sexual love as an emanation of and participation in the divine love between the Lord and His consort Shekhinah. The Christian father Clement would idealize the forty days of Moses on Sinai as time of continent chastity and use this example to justify detailed restrictions on sex-ual expression within marriage.13 But, in the Kabbalistic literature, Moses was said to have joined with Shekhinah, the very consort of God, on Sinai. According to Kabbalistic teaching, in the course of creation the Lord became mysteriously and redemptively alienated from Shekhinah, but sexual inter-course within marriage helps to reestablish God's unity, as men and women participate in the divine harmonic interplay of male and female. The Jewish wife and husband were invited to enjoy their Sabbath lovemaking as a con-templative act, their delight ever expanding to embrace them, their progeny, and their ancestors and continuing as blessing to all the Jewish people, to all of humanity throughout creation, ultimately bringing healing into the very Song of the Groom / 829 heart of a wounded, yearning God. Speaking of the Sabbath celebration, a celebration that was climaxed by sexual intercourse between husband and wife, Scholem has said, "A strange twilight atmosphere made possible an almost complete identification of the Shekhinah, not only with the Queen of Sabbath, but also with every Jewish housewife who celebrates the Sabbath.'q4 In the spirituality of Islam, the beauty of Allah has been identified with the charm of women. The Islamic mystics, or Sufis, could be quite ascetic, and sometimes shared with other Muslims a marked suspicion towards women (although at least one contemporary scholar of Islam, Annemarie Schimmel, has stated that such notions never reached the pitch of medieval Christian misogyny~5). But this did not deter the Sufis from also recognizing femininity as a revelation of God. A notable example is the illustrious Sufi master Ibn ai-'Arabi (1165-1240), perhaps the greatest mystical expositor of Islam. As a youth he had two women saints among his teachers. On his pil-grimage to Mecca at the age of thirty-six, he became enamored of an intelli-gent and beautiful Persian maiden. Recognizing the love of God suffused within the thralls of his human passion, he composed The Interpretation of Desire (Tarjuman aI-Ashwaq), an ode addressed to Allah as his beloved Lady. A few lines of one of his love songs to God display this eloquently: O, her beauty--the tender maid! Its brilliance gives light like lamps to one traveling in the dark. She is a pearl hidden in a shell of hair as black as jet, A pearl for which Thought dives and remains unceasingly in the deeps of that ocean. He who looks upon her deems her to be a gazelle of the sand-hills, because of her shapely neck and the loveliness of her gestures.~6 In a later work, The Bezels of Wisdom, Ibn al'Arabi taught that a man sees the divine most perfectly by contemplating the feminine. The man who enters sexual embrace in this knowledge finds much more than the satisfac-tion of a fleeting lust, but enters the play of divine pleasure. "If he knew the truth," Ibn al-'Arabi wrote, "he would know Whom it is he is enjoying and Who it is Who is the enjoyer; then he would be perfected.''17 Notice that here, as in the Kabbalah, erotic experience has been evoked both as a simile of divine love and as a sacrament divinizing the love experienced between a man and a woman. The Tantric schools of Hinduism and Buddhism view the world as a liv-ing matrix of divine energy. "Tantra" literally means continuity or inter-weaving, and the Tantric teachings skillfully reveal the existential and mystical consistencies that pervade the seamless but diverse fabric of life. 8~0 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 Even our neurotic bewilderments and obsessions contain seeds of transform-ing energy.18 Tantric contemplation enrolls all facets of human experience as skillful means to spiritual freedom, and the sexual faculty is not excluded. In the higher Tantras the Buddhas are imaged in intimate sexual embrace with their Prajna or Wisdom consorts, the female Buddha embodying authentic multidimensional vision and the male Buddha incarnating compassionate action. For those with the right preparation, initiation, and guidance of a qualified guru, the energy of sexual union is evoked in an explosive revela-tion of divine creative potential. 19 Those who enter this path encounter the divine feminine principle as the Dakini (Sanskrit--or, in Tibetan, khandro--literally "sky-dancer"). The Dakini is lovely, enticing, and challenging and sometimes comes in a horrif-ic guise, exercising a startling energy that cuts through behavioral obses-sions. The Dakini, who may become manifest as an archetypal figure or an actual woman of wisdom, avails Her fully realized femininity to move the contemplative beyond his exclusionary mode of consciousness toward one that is panoramic and involved in the full potentiality of life. To disengage him from habitual values, She may sabotage the yogi's self-righteousness. In several tales, an abstemious, scholarly monk enters the higher Tantric path when the Dakini approached with wine, meat, or the offer of sexual rela-tions, all of which are of course forbidden in the lesser path of renuncia-tion-- a fascinating rendition of the "female temptress" motif in that the male is tempted toward fuller life. To obtain the blessing of the Dakini, the con-templative needs to revere, court, and withstand Her, in short, to fully romance Her. As a contemporary Tibetan teacher said: The playful maiden is all-present. She loves you. She hates you. Without her your life would be continual boredom. But she continually plays tricks on you. When you want to get rid of her she clings. To get rid of her is to get rid of your own body--she is that close. In Tantric literature she is referred to as the dakini principle. The dakini is playful. She gam-bles with your life.2° In Taoism, also, the universe is seen to function according to the inter-play of male and female energies, the yang and the yin. A loving relationship between a man and woman serves to integrate the body-mind continuum of each with the universal dynamic of life. The Taoist texts give men explicit and detailed instruction on the encounter with the feminine, and a yogic approach to sexual experience that engages these profound energies. Christian Expressions of Bridegroom Spirituality In the gospels Jesus is proclaimed as Bridegroom, and one would hope Song of the Groom / 831 that the apostolic Church would have cultivated a view of marriage as a way of the Spirit, with an appropriate bridegroom spirituality. But a search here is somewhat disappointing. In The Body and Society, Peter Brown surveys the place accorded to marriage in early Christian thought, in context with the developing ideal of virginity.21 Rejecting the Jewish and Roman ideals of marriage, some of the more far-flung Christian bodies in apostolic times expected that all sexual activity, even within marriage, would cease upon baptism. Even the authentic Pauline writings, particularly 1 Corinthians, favor the ideal of celibacy, allowing marriage as a concession to the weak. Perhaps in reaction to the havoc created within families by the more ascetic model, the later Pauline corpus, particularly the pastoral letters, domesticat-ed this view, giving a conventional nod to the probity of marriage. Surpassing all of these is the notable passage in Ephesians 5:25-33, which is remarkable for its strong affirmation of male marital love: in the love of his wife, a man conforms himself to Christ as the Bridegroom of the Church. The marital eml~race is depicted as not only pure but purifying, a self-giving that ennobles both partners. Here was a wonderful foundation for the growth of a future bridegroom mysticism. However, the patristic era did not see the unfolding of marriage as a way of the spirit, but preferred celibacy as the ideal for a perfected life. By the close of the patristic period, the celibate ideal was firmly settled, and an allegorical bridal mysticism began to bloom. Doubtlessly, the sterling figure of Mary often came to stand in for the feminine aspect of the Divine. Her perpetual virginity was a rapt model of chastity, yet occasionally her devotees have found stirrings of a tender, more sensual love toward her. Bernard of Clairvaux, for example, was an eloquent and profound expositor of bridal mysticism, yet he also reported that the Virgin would come and embrace him warmly, as words of love would pour forth to her: "My Love! My Love! Let me ever love thee from the depths of my heart!''22 Later, in the time of Henry Suso (1295-1366), it was the custom of the young men in his native German town to serenade their sweethearts at the New Year. Henry reportedly followed suit by singing stirring love songs to the figure of the Madonna in the town square.23 One thinks, too, of Francis of Assisi in his romance of Lady Poverty. In fact, by adopting the mission of "troubadour of the Lord," Francis drew upon a movement that fostered bridegroom spirituality at a time when the Church would not recognize it: the emergence of courtly love and romance. In Love in the Western World, Denis de Rougemont traced the close development between the emergence of romance and the heterodox spiritual movement known as Albigen-sianism. 24 The troubadours were evangelists of the movement, and through 1~2 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 their odes of love and honor, human and divine love were integrated, so that spiritual love was given a human face and human love was elevated to a divine dimension. The Provenqal troubadours courted God as the divine fem-inine, dazzled by Her beauty and charm. The movement found expression in chivalry, literature, and the arts, making amorous love a respectable topic for prayer. One thinks, for example, of the tale of Tristan and Iseult and of the ~vorshipful manner~ 6f courtly love. It is curious that during this time, too, interest arose in spiritual friendships between men and women, such .as the chaste love of Francis and Clare or the more ~ultry and tragic affair of Abelard and Hrlolse. In his love of Beatrice, Dante fotind a revelation of divine mystery. Later the heritage would still be alive in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet: the young lovers meet at the masqu.e and express their love in an extended metaphor of worship, pilgrimage, and liturgy. It was during the medieval period, too, that the art of alchemy was intro-duced from northern Africa and taken up by Christian scholars. As Carl Jung's colleague Marie-Louise von Franz has exhaustively discussed,25 Western alchemy did not emerge as a primitive attempt at chemistry, but as a comprehensive map of inner transformation. Alchemy preserved psychologi-cal symboli.sm that was excluded from mainstream Christian mysticism, ificluding a sophisticated contrasexual integration. By the time of the Renaissance, interest in the Kabbalah was also respectable in learned Christian circles and doubtlessly coritributed its own sexual spirituality.26 For all of this, there was still no contemplative imagery in the mainstream of Christian spirituality that would represent male sexual longing as a paradigm for the love of God until the unique voice of Jacob Boehme broke the silence. Jacob Boehme (1575-1624), the German Lutheran lay mystic and teach-er, was doubtles.sly the boldest expositor of bridegroom imagery to emerge in the history of Christendom. Largely self-educated, Boehme worked as a shoemaker, and lived as a faithful husband and father of six, involved in the affairs of his guild and community. From an early age he had a remarkable series of revelations concerning the nature of God, creation, and the inter-play of good and evil. Iia his time alchemical and Kabbalistic ideas had per-colated well into learned spirituality, alongside the more official theologies of the churches. The Wisdom tradition, which had continued in Eastern Christian thought,27 had long lain dormant within Western Christian spiritu-ality, but in an intricate trinitarian theo.logy Boehme spontaneously and inde-pendently recovered it. Briefly and loosely stated, in Boehme's theogony Wisdom (or Sophia) was regarded as the consciousness of God. Wisdom was spoken of as the body of the Trinity and the bride of Christ. She infused all Song of the Groom the persoias of the Trinity in their knowledge of one another, and thus could draw human corisciousness into God. Accordingly, in the devotional works of Boehme, spiritual marriage was not between the bridal soul (the anima) and the bridegroom Christ, but between the animus and the Lady Wisdom. In The Way to Christ Boehme exhorts the reader to court the noble Virgin Sophia to become Her bridegroom just as Christ is Her bridegroom, and gives a stirring dialog between Sopfiia and the bridegroom soul.28 The Promise of Bridegroom Spirituality Let us return to the questions raised at the beginning of this article: What is th~ importance of male erotic mysticism? What does it contribute to our understanding of God? Does it open any new ways of thinking about who we are, in relation to God and in relation to one another, as men and women? The following common themes certainly are not exclusi~ie to bride-groom mysticism, but suggest themselves with enough ~orce to call for par-ticular notice: The Healing of Male Grief. Robert Bly has said that the male mode of feeling springs from a primal "grief," a grief related to the male experience of sacrifice and self-denial.29 In their conventional roles as providers and protectors, men have experienced a crushing burden of responsibility and "have-to's," wearily measuring up to others' expectations, just as they con-tinually size up other men. From the tenderest age, male ideritity is won in an act of separation and distinctioh from the mother, urilike the female identity that is secured through inclusion and similarity to her. Even the sexual act involves for the male a separation, a sundering and yielding of his very essence. Bridegi'oom mysticism exposes his deep grief to the healing work of the Woman. She, who is desirable pureiy by nature rather than by merit, brings forth what is best in a man. When a man first feels the stirrings of love toward the Divine Bride, the experienc6 is overwhelming, reminiscent of the first time he became attracted to ~ girl. Many men remember their initial sex-ual attractions as fresh and frightening and raw, but at the same time oddly pure. Later on, the sexual lives of men often become just another conquest or achievement, but the love of the Divine Bride never seems to lose its surprise and purity, giving the sacrifice of the man a worthy end and resting place. The Healing of Female Pain. Robert Bly calls the female mode of feel-ing an experience of "pain," the pain of being devalued. If nothing else, an awareness of God as Bride, at this juncture of our history, indicates mutuali-ty between men's and women's spirituality in contemporary faith, an acknowledgment by men that the divine feminine is as important to them as it is to women. One of the precepts of Tantric Buddhism states that "to dis- 834 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 parage women is a mortal offense, for woman is the source of Wisdom." Bridegroom spirituality accords the deepest respect to woman, in an act of affirmation that woman cannot give to herself, any more than man can heal his own grief without the love of the Woman. The Healing of God. In the wholeness of God as Woman, we worship Her as the matrix of mystery, comprehen.ding all within her, evil as well as good. In the year 1600 Jacob Boehme first had i.nsight into the activity of Divine Wisdom, and in this same revelation he said, "I saw, too, the essential nature of evil and good and how the pregnant Mother--the eternal gen-etrix brought them forth.''3° Bridegroom spirituality has much to offer our Understanding of what has been called the redemption of God.31 Warrior spirituality rouses to the Lord's clarion to wage battle against evil, but the human heart also seeks the why and wherefore of suffering, an intimacy in which the pain of God can be disclosed and, if possible~ healed. In Kabbalistic Judaism, humanity's separation from God also entails the sepa-ration of masculine and feminine principles within Godhead, and erotic spir-ituality participates in ttieir reunion. As Gershom Scholem writes: The reunion of God and His Shekhinah constitutes the meaning of redemption. In this staie, again seen in purely mythical terms, the mascu-line and feminine are carried back to their original unity, and in this unin-terrupted union of the two the powers of generation .will once again flow uhinterrupted through the worlds. The Kabbalists held that every reli-gioias act should be accompanied by the formula: this is done "for the sake of the reunion of God and His Shekhinah.''32 The Healing of Creation. This is the necessary and obvious corollary of the healing of God. Bridegroom spirituality implies human participation and co-responsibility for God's creative purpose. We relate to God the Father/Mother as children, but the relationship with God as Bride is an adult relationship, enrolling the man fully into God's ongoing creative actions. Wisdom. Quite consistently--in the Hebrew Scriiatures, in Buddhist Tantra, and in the teaching of Jacob Boehme--the divine feminine is named "Wisdom." Wisdom is the fulfillment of the defiriing male consciousness, not in an ever-escalating acquisition of knowledge, but in "knowingness," with its distinctly feminine quality. It is akin to the Hebrew yada, which is "to know" as well as "to make love to." Robert Bly says that ~i father must impart two gifts to his children: his temperament and his teachings. In con-temporary society, Bly says, childreh may ~till have a brief opportuhity to be exposed to their father's temperament, but they have been almost completely deprived of his teaching, of acquiring practical prowess from him. And (it seems to me) just as children need to receive the father's teaching, s6 the Song of the Groom male psyche needs to give teaching, for its own health. "Even mean men," Bly says, "are often sweet when they're teaching." The Buddhist scriptures describe the interplay of female Wisdom, or Prajna, with the male principle, which is alternately called Compassion (Karuna) or Skillful Means (Upaya), the ability to utilize any situation appropriately for the welfare of others. The implication is that the male capacity for action, know-how, and mastery must be thoroughly suffused with wisdom if it is to find fulfillment. Think of the master workman, mechanic, or cabinetmaker, who after years with his craft does not have to shout or trumpet his ability. His mastery is unarguably evi-dent in his work. He can be patient, gentle, and sure. He has seen it all before. In the same way, for the man to exercise Skillful Means, he must deeply see the potentials for good and evil in each situation. It is only Wisdom which brings this seeing. The Centrality oflntent. When the male spirit encounters God the Bride, She calls forth a unique pledge of fidelity, a resolve that endures beyond all appearances. When words fail, when understanding crumbles, when all our religious ego projects are shown for the games they are, only the kernel of bare intent remains. In such a contemplative vision, we pray not to "get somewhere," but enter prayer as itself an expression of desire or intent, in the faith that just in "being there" we give and receive everything. In the power of this intent we pray not to get close to God, but because we are close, and beloved, to Her. For the man who finds inklings of his own experience here, are they ways to enter more deeply? As masculine spirituality emerges, men will find ways to celebrate God the Bride if they are willing to do so. But here are some preliminary ideas for Christian men: ¯ Simply open the Song of Songs, and pray the words of the groom to God as your Bride. Notice what happens. ¯ Try the same thing with Jacob Boehme's dialog with Sophia, or with Ibn al-'Arabi's poem. ¯ In male gatherings of worship, sing Her praises, just as Jewish men would gather at the edge of town at sunset on Friday, to welcome their Bride as Queen of Shabbat. ¯ We learn about the divine feminine by honoring the femininity of women around us. In Tilden Edwards's book Practicing the Presence, there is a simple, prayerful exercise that a man and woman can enter together.33 The book The Shared Heart by Joyce and Barry Vissell also has some sug-gestions, for committed couples. ¯ Christian celibates who want to bring sexual energy into prayer might wish to consult The Radiant Heart by Linda Sabbath. This does not deal [136 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 specifically with male sexuality, but perhaps the exercises could be adapted toward this direction. In the Song of Songs, the awaiting bride leaps to the door at the approach of her groom, only to find that he has vanished. The bride is ready for love, but it is the groom who is timid and unsure. Is humanity only to be the hearer of the song of the groom? Might not that song also be meant to pour forth from the hearts of men? Might not the Bride be yearning to hear it? NOTES ~ John Carmody, Toward a Male Spirituality (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, n.d.), pp. 31-32. 2 Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette, King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine (HarperSanFrancisco, 1990), p. 121. 3 Alison Weber, Teresa of Avila and the Rhetoric of Femininity (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1990), pp. 109-122. 4 Mary and Leon J. Podl6s, "The Emasculation of God," America, 25 November 1989, p. 373. 5 See, for example, James B. Nelson, The Intimate Connection: Male Sexuality, Male Spirituality (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988), p. 31. 6 Podles, p. 374. For a thorough treatment of the fatherhood of God, see also John W. Miller, Biblical Faith and Fathering: Why We Call God "Father" (New York: Paulist Press, 1989). 7 Carmody, p. 45. 8 Arthur Green, "Bride, Spouse, Daughter," in Susannah Heschel, ed., On Being a Jewish Feminist (New York: Schocken Books, 1983), pp. 248-249. 9 Robert Bly, Iron John: A Book about Men (Reading, Mass: Addison-Wesley Publishing Co., 1990), p. 123. l0 Alan W. Watts, Nature, Man and Woman (New York: Pantheon Books, 1958), pp. 143-145. ~ Gerald May, Will and Spirit: A Contemplative Psychology (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1982), pp. 5, 6. ~2 Gershom G. Scholem, Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism (New York: Schocken Books, 1965). ~3 Referenced in Peter Brown, The Body and Society: Men, Women, and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), pp. 122-138. ~4 Gershom G. Scholem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism (New York: Schocken Books, 1969), pp. 140-141. ~5 Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions oflslam (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1975), p. 429. Song of the Groom 16 In Reynold A. Nicholson, The Mystics oflslam (New York: Schocken Books, 1975), p. 102. 17 Ibn al-'Arabi, Bezels of Wisdom, trans. R.W.J. Austin (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), p. 276. 18 Daniel Cozort, Highest Yoga Tantra: An Introduction to the Esoteric Buddhism of Tibet (Ithaca, N.Y.: Snow Lion Publications, 1986). 19 See the works of Herbert Guenther: Yuganaddha: The Tantric View of Life (Varanasi: Chowkhamba Sanskrit Series, second edition, 1964) and The Life and Teaching of Naropa (Boston: Shambala, 1986). 20 Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, as quoted in Tsultrim Allione's remarkable work Women of Wisdom (Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1984), p. 38. 21 Brown, The Body and Society. 22 B.Z. Goldberg, The Sacred Fire: The Story of Sex in Religion (New York: University Books, 1958), p. 199. 23 Ibid. 24 Denis de Rougemont, Love in the Western Worm (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1983). This revised edition has valuable appendices. 25 Marie-Louise von Franz, Alchemy: An Introduction to the Symbolism and Psychology (Toronto: Inner City Books, 1980). 26 loan P. Culianu, Eros and Magic in the Renaissance (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross are also believed to have been influenced b~, the Kabbalah. See C. Swietlicki, Spanish Christian Cabala: The Works of Luis de Le6n, Santa Teresa de Jesfis, and San Juan de la Cruz (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1986). 27 See Sergius Bulgakov's interesting and controversial works, particularly The Wisdom of God: A Brief Summary of Sophiology (New York: Paisley Press, 1937), in which he presents an Eastern Orthodox sophiology quite consistent with Boehme's theogony. 28 Jacob Boehme, The Way to Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 59-62. 29 These comments from Robert Bly are from a televised interview with Bill Moyers, A Gathering of Men. A videotape and transcript are available from Mystic Fire Videos. 30 Ann Liem, Jacob Boehme: Insights into the Challenge of Evil (Wallingford, Pa.: Pendle Hill Publications, 1977), p. 8. 31 See, in particular, I. Carter Heyward, The Redemption of God: A Theology of Mutual Relation (Washington, D.C.: University Press of America, 1982). 32 Scholem, On the Kabbalah and Its Symbolism, p. 108. 33 Tilden Edwards, Living in the Presence: Disciplines for the Spiritual Heart (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987), p. 74. 1~38 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 ADDITIONAL WORKS Bolen, Jean Shinoda. Gods in Everyman: A New Psychology of Men's Lives and Loves. New York: Harper & Row, 1989. Davis, Charles. Body as Spirit: The Nature of Religious Feeling. New York: Seabury, 1976. Donnelly, Dody H. Radical Love: An Approach to Sexual Spirituality. Minneapolis: Winston Press, 1984. Eliade, Mircea. "Masculine Sacrality" (vol. 8, pp. 252-258) and "Feminine Sacrality" (vol. 5, pp. 302-312). In The Encyclopedia of Religion. New York: Macmillan, 1987. Ibn al-'Arabi. Tarjuman al-Ashwaq. Translation and commentary by Reynold A. Nicholson. London, 1911. Johnson, Robert A. He: Understanding Masculine Psychology. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1977, 1986. Sabbath, Linda. The Radiant Heart. Dimension Books, 1977. Stoudt, John J. Jacob Boehme: His Life and Thought. New York: Seabury Press, 1968. Vissell, Joyce, and Vissell, Barry. The Shared Heart: Relationship, Initiations and Celebrations. Aptos, Calif.: Ramira Publishing, 1984. Incense What sense this incense, Questions common sense? This burning, this waste, Like fragrant perfume, Aromatic nard on the Lord? Like love freely given-- For sheer delight! A gift--this incense-- Sweet savor of benevolence. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 The Bible's Use of Sexual Language Nancy M. Cross Mrs. Cross's article on Blessed Edith Stein's feminism appeared in our issue of January/February 1989. The mother of twelve and now the grandmother of twenty-five, she entered the Catholic Church twenty years ago along with her Protestant-minister husband and their entire family. A wideiy published writer, she cofitinues to have this address: Box 55; Tayiors Falls, Minnesota 55084. [~lore and more Christian publications are saying what Arthur Shaw said in the National Catholic Register: that addressing God as male or female is "not only sowing confusion, but teaching heresy.''l Inasmuch as God is pu~e spirit and has no physical body that is male br female, the statement is, of course true. Yet a reply to this assertion about gender language used for God is demanded if some critical truth is not to be totally obscured, because the assertion is simply not clear enough. Addressing God with gender language exclusively of one sex is neither confusing nor heretical, but correct and true, and is first to be found in the Bible. Genesis 1 describes God's creation of man and woman in tiis image: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness . So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them" (Gn 1:27). About tliis passage Pope John Paul II, in the encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem, asks, ."Can one hold that the plural which the Creator uses here in speaking of himself already in some way sug-gests the Trinitarian mystery, the presence of the Trinity in the work of the creation of man?''2 His logic, which in every particular fits the unfolding story of man and woman in the Bible, brings us to some clarifying insights about the meaning of sexuality. In his pastoral letter "Do This in Memory of Me," Cardinal Carter of Toronto presents the deep covenantal the61ogy based on the Trinity from which we understand relationships on all levels of being: God and 839 840 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 humankind, man and woman, priest and laity. The cardinal archbishop's teaching ranges from deductions based on the nature of the Trinity and the incarnation of Christ to anthropological considerations drawn from the nature of human sexuality. He begins with an analysis of the Trinity, a com-munity of diverse persons which implies neither lordship nor subjugation of one Person to another, yet with distinct roles, irreducibly different in what concerns their being as distinct Persons.3 Triune Relationship Within the relationship of the triune Persons stand revealed an initiator, the Father, and a dependent responder, the Son; unifying these two polar Persons (initiation and response are ob-positioned) is the Holy Spirit, who is, as St. Bernard said, "the kiss between the Father and the Son." Each has all the attributes of the one nature, but some are more to be said of one than the others-~"neither confounding the Persons, nor dividing the substance," as the Athanasian Creed puts it. From the union of Father and Son in the Spirit come creativity and ecstasy. In creating man and woman, God shares that creativity and ecstasy of his own being by enfleshing, materializing these awesome principles of personhood in a male who initiates and a female who is dependent and responds. Cardinal Carter writes: "This qualitative sexual differentiation is rooted not in physiology but in the created human imaging of the Trinity, and is indissociable from the revelation of the Trinity in Christ, as his Incarnation bears witness.''4 In the perfection of the original plan, these two (humankind) are made in this image: two polar persons sharing one nature-~one the initiator, one the responder, both united by a third, the Holy Spirit, who condescends to share himself and unify these opposites with divine love. Therefore, the sexuality that appeared in physical form expresses in a creaturely way something utterly spiritual at the very heart of things. The Trinity Imaged God is saying something about his very self in the creation of man and woman; he is sharing the dynamics of the personhood in the Trinity with the creature he makes in his image. Therefore maleness, though not found in the Trinity, of course, speaks nevertheless of what we would intrepidly say is the masculine principle among the Persons of the Trinity. How do we come to the idea of "masculine"? By observing the action of the male. But the male is picturing for us something far beyond himself. Although it may be anthro-pocentric to describe the First Person as Father, nevertheless, because the The Bible's Use of Sexual Language / 1~41 male generates (in a secondary way) new life and because God has revealed himself as generator of everything that is, it is clear that the very idea has come from God down, not from man up. God has spoken about himself in real terms by creating male and female bodies. Therefore, what has visible form as male imperfectly incarnates a masculine principle in the Trinity. We call the principle "masculine" because of our human experience with male-ness- but it precedes maleness and lies at the heart of things. What has visi-ble form as female imperfectly incarnates a feminine principle in the Trinity. We call the principle "feminine" because of our human experience with femaleness--but it precedes femaleness and lies at the heart of things. Accordingly, the second person in both the Holy Trinity and in humankind is the responder. This role for both the Son and the woman is in response to the First/first person. Do the Son and the woman have the attribute of initiation? Do the Father and the man have the attribute of response? Of course they do, because the polar persons share all attributes of each other; but certain attributes are more to be said of one than the other-- which makes the persons' positions polar and nonexchangeable. As Cardinal Carter says, "the absolute unity of God is not monadic but trinitarian. This eliminates the necessity o.f placing antagonisms between unity and multiplic-ity, because the Triune God, who is Unity itself, is also three Persons, quali-tatively differentiated and irreducible to each other, yet without antagonism." 5 Equality In perfection the Second/second person is completely equal in worth to the First/first person. It is a result of the Fall, the takeover of the scene by an enemy's values, that "response" and "dependent" have become despised concepts. In the perfect plan, re.ceiving and responding are values equal to governance and generating. The Second Person is coequal and coeternal to the First. Man and woman, created to image that relationship in human flesh, \ were created with the same polar roles inherent in their flesh and psyche, yet they stand eye to eye as total equals. As in the Trinity, initiation (or authori-ty) and response (or obedience), indicative of man and woman, are not prin-ciples unequal in their value and worth. They are the stances of wholly equal beings, who enjoy an equality like Father and Son. The very idea of the inequality of the role of response came from an alien consciousness, one who had already envied the role of authority and spread that envy to the perfect creation. When the woman accepted his defi-nition, eventually believing his lies, his value system was established, which is the Fall, a value system that still is modus operandi. It took this alien con- 1~49 / Review for ReligiouJ, November-December 1991 sciousness to cast doubt on that equality and to substitute a value system which contaminates everything since the Fall. The antiword (Pope John Paul's term) corrupts the world with the lie that to initiate and order is power and power is "where it's at." As a corollary, the same antiword insists that to heed and serve, to receive and. respond, is for lackeys and nitwits. Jesus restored the value system of perfection. In bridging this abyss he restored the values of the original plan: to be obedient is not the least important role, to be authority is not the most important role. But almost no one believes it to this day--least of all the one who most purely is created to model obedience and service, the woman. Archbishop John Roach, speaking to the National Council of Catholic W~omen, recently cast light on this as it refers to laity and clergy: The Father, the Son, and the Spirit are one, but very different. The Father does not do what the Son does, the Son does not do what the Father does and neither does what ~he Spirit does. Jesus spoke often of doing the Father's will. He was not obsequious; that was his role and he recognized the Father's role. The Father did things unique to the Father. He initiates, governs, presides, creates in a very distinctive way. The Son's role is to respond, to be the word for the Father, to reflect the Father, to be the splendor and glory of the Father. The Spirit is the bond of love animating the Father and the Son. He is the comforter and consoler and paraclete and inspiration. That may seem to be a kind of lofty ideal for us, but I think it is what we have to aim at. Our roles are different, but that ought to be a source of rejoicing, not resentment. There are things that you do as laity that I should not do. There are things that I do as bishop and priest that you should not do . There is no inferiority or super-superiority in the Trinity. There cannot be any among us. I must exercise a kind of leader-ship and a kind of authority for the good ofth~ Church which is not your responsibility. To do that, however, I must recognize not only th~ dignity of you as persons and children of God, but as people in whom the Spirit speaks . In a collegial gathering all bring gifts. The leader becomes ser-vant and the last rises to full dignity . 6 Revaluing Roles in Tr!nitarian Light In .order for this vision to catch on, it takes the woman first (beginning with the Blessed Virgin Mary, but with us women too) to revalue her role and meaning in light of the Second Person of the Trinity. This is because woman first accepted Satan's false definition and evaluation of her role, that is, as less worthy than the role of authority her husband held in their rela- .tionship by divine command. Edith Stein says, "The nature of the temptation was in itself of more significance to her."7 The woman must begin the unraveling of the knot by not choosi.ng again the values of Satan, not accept- The Bible's Use of Sexual Language ing again the lie that ordering/authority/governance has a higher prestige, is more worthy than service, and is, therefore, an object of envy. She must claim her role and love it; and if she must fight, it is to have that role of obe-dience recognized as fully equal to the opposite role of authority. She is nei-ther a lackey nor a nitwit. Authority will not talk down to her if she talks straight with it, respectfully, but eye to eye. In order for the value system of perfection to be restored, woman must accept obedience as fully worthy, fully equal to the opposite role. The Virgin Mary has done it. Women have rarely done it, and the very idea is being washed away in our day. Not only has obedience (submission) been deval-ued as the feminine role, but authority has been falsely elevated (Satan's val-ues are intact). Therefore, the man considers his role as prestigious and powerful; and this worldly, not to say carnal, evaluation is widely endorsed by women. Authority, which is another word for ultimate initiation and governance, must take its cue from the First Person of the Trinity--that is, it exists to put all at the service of those who are receivers/responders. Pope John Paul's insistence that Ephesians 5 speaks of "mutual submission" of wife to hus-band and husband to wife underlines this.8 But the submission of both, the total giving of self9 that both experience, is done differently. The woman submits to the husband's governance and ordering (the role of headship) of their life together, making one will of two; and the husband submits to the woman's need for protection and provision, and this whether he feels like it or not. In the Christian community, males have authority, and women model obedience. But both live lives of self-giving service in mutual submission. The laity (feminine though consisting of males and females) submits to the clergy's (masculine) governance, the clergy submits to the laity's need for headship, spiritual and material, whether convenient or inconvenient. Further, the Christian community forms the people of God (the bride) whose relationship to God is as feminine to masculine. The model? Again, man and woman in marriage;t just as man and woman in marriage are the image of the Holy Trinity. This imaging of the meaning of sexuality is not deviated from throughout the Bible despite the different pressures of time and culture in the two thousand years of its formation. We see the model for both roles within the Holy Trinity. There is no pres-tige in the role of authority, and no servility in the role of obedience--such is the peculiar Christian ~,ision of relationship. Says Jesus who was sent: "I do nothing but what I see the Father doing"; "I have not come of my own accord"; and so forth. Such statements are the core of the gospel of John. l0 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 Anthropomorphic, yet True What does this mean? That maleness and femaleness and the roles inherent in the bodily form speak of ultimate truth about relationship origi-nating in the Holy Trinity. God knows that this creature will develop a lan-guage according to information received through the senses. That language will necessarily be anthropomorphic, but because the sexual body, male and female, is created to image the truth, the words developed can be used to express that truth truly. C.S. Lewis masterfully investigates the meaning of sexuality in his space-fiction trilogy Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength. In the latter he writes: "Yes," said the Director. "There is no escape. If it were a virginal rejec-tion of the male, He would allow it. Such souls can bypass the male and go on to meet something far more masculine, higher up, to which they must make a yet deeper surrender. But your trouble has been what old poets called Daungier, we call it Pride . The masculine none of us can escape. What is above and beyond all things is so masculine that we are all feminine in relation to it . ,, I I The inspired writers of Holy Scripture, where Lewis gained his insights, speak truly when they reveal God as forever masculine, and humankind in relation to God as forever feminine. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they never deviate from this form of expression, not once! Examine careful-ly those Scriptures used to present God as mother and you will not find them asserting God's motherhood. The importance of God in his triune Persons always being considered masculine to us human beings is so overwhelming that in every case in Scripture the truth of this is rigorously guarded. For this reason, also, the Second Person of the Trinity came as male--all Persons of the Trinity are to us as masculine to feminine whether we are male or female humans. Isaiah and Hosea Isaiah 66:12-13 is the favorite of the misquoted Scriptures and is always used in this way: "As nurslings, you shall be carried in her arms, and fondled in her lap; as a mother comforts her son, so will I comfort you." This, how-ever, is the fuller text, more closely translated: "Behold, I will extend pros-perity to her like a fiver, and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream; and you shall suck, you shall be carried upon her hip, and dandled upon her knees. As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you; you shall be comforted in Jerusalem?' Obviously God does not present himself as the mother in this passage. The Bible's Use of Sexual Language The distinction he places between himself and Jerusalem is very clear. The same holds true for Isaiah 49:15, another favorite to substantiate God's motherhood. "Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you." The speaker is Yahweh, the LORD, who in the entire text of Isaiah presents him-self as enduringly masculine though with a depth of compassion that sur-passes all earthly love, even the love of a mother. Mothers may forget, it is possible, but the Lord will not forget. This Lord continues, "Then all flesh shall know that I am the Lord your Savior, and your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob" (Is 49:26). Chapter fifty continues the theme, with God iden-tifying himself as husband and father. Isaiah 46:3-4 is also a standby text for the Mother-God argument, yet there is nothing necessarily maternal in the picture of God carrying the heavy burden which Israel has become. In fact it is explicitly stated in this passage that the one who carries is masculine: "Hearken to me, O house of Jacob, all the remnant of the house of Israel, who have been borne by me from your birth, carried from the womb; even to your old age I am He, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save." Next to Isaiah, Hosea is most often called on to bolster the femininity-of- God argument. Such a twist of Hosea's intent cannot be supported by the text, in which God speaks throughout as a betrayed husband and deserted father. There is no plausibility for assuming that the speaker in Hosea 11 is maternal. The Father is expressing the warmth and concern we expect from either parent, mother or father. Nothing maternal is stated here. The actual text, with irrelevant passages deleted, reads: When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. The more I called them, the more they went from me . Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk, I took them up in my arms; but they did not know that I healed them . How can I give you up, O Ephraim!. My heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender. I will not execute my fierce anger; I will not again destroy Ephraim; for I am God and not man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come to destroy. Can this be considered to be the Mother-God talking? The context is quite the contrary. Neither does Sirach 4:10, "[God] will love you more than your mother did," say anything tb conclude the femininity of the One who loves more than human mothers. The full wording is: "You will then be like a son of the Most High, and he will love you more than does your mother." The Holy~Trinity, of course, has within itself all the positive expressions 846 / Review for Religious, November-December 1991 of relationship that there are. This means that mother-love has its origin in the Holy Trinity. What from humankind's point of view would be called fem-inine love is present within (intra) the Trinity; it has been enfleshed by the Creator in the woman--the Son is the Person imaged by the woman. Yet, despite the obvious full measure of what we humans call "femininity" inher-ent in the Trinity, God never approaches his people as mother or as feminine. To humankind (ad extra) God is consistently husband, father, lover, and not wife, mother, or beloved, because Godhead is to humankind the initiator, the author, eliciting humankind's response and obedience, and the roles cannot be reversed. Children, Church, Bride His people are polar to himself, and though they are intended to be, in a certain sense, his equals ("bride without spot or wrinkle," Ep 5:27), they can never be God despite Satan's words to the contrary. Yet they are meant to be joined in union with him; the Holy Spirit will condescend to his mysterious work, but only after Jesus has come to forgive otherwise indelible sin. His people cannot initiate anything with God; he is the initiator. They cannot work their way back to union with him; they are wholly dependent on his action. In relationship to him they can only receive and respond, as they were created to do: to think God's thoughts after him and to obey his Holy Will, or if they prefer to exercise their freedom the opposite way, they may think Satan's thoughts after him and do his will. If God can be presented as mother or as feminine, that is, as receiver and accepter in the God/humankind relationship, where does that place his polar people? They are his children, of course, but they are growing into his bride, not his groom. A feminine God would make them the masculine pole-- exactly what Satan tempted them to think in the beginning--that they should envy and seize the authority side of the equation and "be like gods." Already the value of the role of willing obedience has been totally disparaged. In its place is the Satanic concept that Godhead is merely dominating authoritari-anism lording it over lackeys and nitwits. Thus, the significance of masculine and feminine runs very deep indeed. There is no mother in heaven other than the Blessed Mother, and she is given to us as all the mother we need. There is another heavenly mother, the Church, in that mystical dimension of her that is holy. It is her overflowing breasts that feed us (Is 66) and her warm lap that holds us. The only consort of the God who presents himself as masculine to us is ourselves. Another aspect of the gender-of-God question that appears more and more frequently in periodicals is the matter of history--the assumption The Bible's Use of Sexual Language grows that the Hebrews somehow messed up things and imposed upon the world their perverse patriarchy which they expressed in their sacred writ-ings. Their patriarchal prejudices, declare this reasoning, overpowered the more gentle goddess-religions.~2 We need to look again at that claim in light of the above and also in. light of the goddesses themselves, who were not gentle and approachable at all. Tanit, Astarte, or Astaroth demanded child sacrifices; a very bloodthirsty goddess she was, depicted with a lioness's head! The others do not stand any kind of scrutiny either. They are projec-tions from the fallen psyche of humankind and cannot stand comparison with the Holy One of Israel, I AM HE. Language and Reality It is legitimate, therefore, to object to much current writing against tradi-tional God and gender language: 1. It twists Scripture, theology, and history, even when done innocently. 2. Scripture is not just a human book--it is far too profound for that, often speaking more than the human author knew or intended. Dei Verbum says, "Since, therefore, all that the inspired authors, or sacred writers, affirm should be regarded as affirmed by the Holy Sp!rit, we must acknowledge that the books of Scripture, firmly, faithfully, and without error, teach that truth which God, for the sake of our salvation, wished to see confided to the sacred Scriptures" (DV, no. 11). Often those who adhere to this definition are pejoratively called fundamentalists, a word many who are unwilling to take Scripture wholly and seriously use much too freely in order to quiet their questioners. It is necessary to heed literary forms, the times addressed, the exact meaning of words in their contexts, and ways of perception of the times. But none of this negates the truth of the quotation above (which tran-scends all of the human aspects of Scripture), namely, that God has seen to it that this book speaks what he wants us to know: "sacred Scripture must be read and interpreted with its divine authorship in mind" (DV, no. 12). 3. In the matter of sexuality in Scripture, we are not working with mere metaphor; we are working with an analogy. An analogy points up a relation-ship between two things--a real parailelism of character or attributes. Therefore, to say that man and woman and their relationship are an analogy of God's relationship to humankind is to say that there is a real parallel in the comparison that rests in verity--in this case, because God has created the one (humankind) to be a sign of the other (God). A metaphor, on the other hand, merely suggests a likeness in some particular about two very unlike things, for instance, "That dog walks like a turtle." Feminine references to Godhead in Scripture can be seen with little effort to be sheer metaphors. ~i4~1 / Review for Religious, November-December1991 When Jesus said that he was like a hen wanting to gather his chicks, he was speaking !n metaphor he did not resemble a chicken in any regard other than this one particular. But when he said he and the Father are One, he was not speaking metaphor at all--either about Father, which I have explained above, or about their oneness. In this matter of gender language for God and of the meaning of male and female, many people are being swept along by something that they do not understand, and are taking up the mistaken values of feminism about authority/submission. Thus they .are constantly tempted to envy the mascu-line side and thereby cast aside the beauty and wholeness of Jesus' way of abject obedience, saying it does not behoove women to be obedient or to have anything to do with submission. All of this is a serious concern to the Church as we enter the third millennium, for it lies at the center of what it means to be a Catholic Christian. It is sifting those who have the heart for it from those who do not, and will eventually be seen to vindicate the Church's assertion that the Holy Spirit "leads her to perfect union with her Spouse.''~3 NOTES l Arthur Shaw, "Gender Language for God," National Catholic Register, November 12, 1989, p. 4. 2 John Pau! II, Encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem (pentecost 1986), no. 12. Italics mine. 3 Cardinal Gerald Emmett (~arter, "Do This in Memory of Me," 8 December 1983. 4 .Ibid, p. 24. 5 Ibid, p. 11. 6 Archbishop John Roach, Archbishop of Minneapolis/St. Paul, Eucharistic Celebration, November 9, 1987, National Council of Catholic Women. 7 Edith Stein, The Collected Works of Edith Stein, Volume Two, Essays on Woman (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1987), p. 62. 8 John Paul II, Pastoral Letter Mulieris Dignatatem (1989), pp. 91, 92, 98. 9 Ibid, pp. 67, 78, 84. ~0 See, among many other verses, 5:19, 26, 30, 37, 43; 6:44; 8:28. ~ C.S. Lewis, That Hideous Strength (Macmillan, 1946), p. 315. 12 See Virginia Ann Froehle, R.S.M., "Feminine Images of God Can Enhance Your Prayer and Change Your Life," St. Anthony Messenger, May 1989. This article blatantl

Issue 46.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1987. ; REVIEW FO, 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. REWEW FOg RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1987 by REVIEW FOg RELiGiOUS. Single copies $2.50. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail); airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rv.vlv.w FOR REI.I(;IOUS: 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 M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors May/June, 1987 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOIl REI.I~;IOtlS; 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 REI.I~:IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassgtte recordings as a service for the visu-ally impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Mary and Our Reconciliation in Christ Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald has written yet another thoughtful and fruitful article on Mary our Mother. His last article on Mary was "Our Lady of Wisdom" (May/June, 1986). His last article in our pages was "Invisibly Companioned" (January/February, 1987). Father Macdonald still resides at: St. Joseph's; Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lanc.: 0LI4 5HP England. It is puzzling to read from time to time that,- seemingly, the appeal of Our Lady is chiefly psychological rather than personal. So, for example, "Mary .has been a very popular image for both women and men . Men still Often seem to derive a great deal from the image of Mary, perhaps cel-ibate men. in particular, since Mary as mother provides a safe, that is, sex-ually taboo womanly image.''~ Is her appeal then in what she represents rather than who she is? Is she a popular image or a popular person? Every individual suggests more than herself, of course, but in the living of the everyday Catholic this emphasis on "the image of Mary" seems sadly unreal. There is a world of difference between admiring her icon at an exhibition and taking her into our home in faith and love. Insofar as she is seen primarily as a psychological refuge she is no longer the mother of Jesus as the Gospel reflects her. It was no image but someone authentically human who "gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn" (Lk 2:7). A male religious might be forgiven instinctive irritation as he feels him-self being patronized. More to the point, being particularly singled out as finding Our Lady a safety valve seems to contradictexperience. Is it true? The experience of an adult lifetime spent in pastoral ministry at the grass roots could more plausibly make a case for the attraction Our Lady has for the married woman or the professional man. In thinking of those with an 321 322 / Review for Religious, Ma.y--June, 1987 enviably marked and integrated devotion to Our Lady, the male celibate, while there, is by no means primary. Mary means so much to so many, far beyond the few who, it is suggested, see in her particularly a safe, sex-ually taboo womanly image. A lifetime could be spent in a Catholic com-munity without ever meeting many of that particular group, though one would certainly find genuine devotion to Our Lady. Too, contemporary novelists and journalists notwithstanding, genuine devotion to her from the male celibate has surely stronger ties than sexual security. It is a Catholic thing, not a psychological need. It is of the faith. Again, does everyday devotion to Our Lady really express itself like that? Is it mainly a popular image useful for meeting a psychological need? Whether it be the assembly line, down-market product of "repository art,'" or-the faith-aesthetic creation of a Giotto, the Christian can distinguish between the person and the product. The picture or image can focus atten, tion, and there are psychological overtones in every glimpse of Our Lady, since every individual carries more meaning than he or she knows. Mary may transform whomever and whatever she is introduced to in the context of Christian devotion. She creates her own climate in the generations con-sidering her ,blessed among women. Yet traditionally and individually within the Church, the person of Mary is known and loved beyond all that art, theory and culture might suggest. Faith and the feminine are lovely, life-enhancing qualities. To speculate about them may have some point, but cannot be compared to seeing them in a particular woman. Here lies Our Lady's appeal. Her union with her Son as the Gospel reveals this, and her oneness with us in our humanity and faith are definitive. Many talented peop!e can perhaps paint an icon, but only the specially prepared, it is said, may paint its eyes. Insight is a gift. The scientist and man of contemporary culture who considers the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris exclusively in terms of its construction has literally not seen it. In ignoring God and her whose name it was given, he has lost the key which would unlock its meaning. This is much more than simply discarding a relative culture. The contemporary Catholic, attracted by the appeal of Our Lady, might say of her what the medieval mystic said of being gripped by the desire for contemplation: "You would run a thousand miles to talk about it with someone you know has really experienced it, and yet when you get there you can find nothing to say. ''-~ One need not be able to articulate what one knows. The common tongue of Lourdes~ Fatima, Banneux and "down-town anywhere," as far as Our Lady is concerned, is faith working through Mary and Our Reconciliation / 393 love. With the mother of the Word made flesh dwelling among us, we are in touch with someone rooted in humanity and faith. ,.- This, then, is why devotion to Our Lady in Catholic tradition is not something subjective, as a liking for sugar, but an objective reality whether we advert to it or not. It is not an arcane secret given to some esoteric group inhabiting an ethereal heaven. It cannot be when so many Christians' first real introduction to Mary is often in the world of the Christmas carol, where "earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone . " She is known by the company she keeps--like her Son, easily going to the houses of sinners to be with them. The consequent allegiance she has won in the Christian world is far from the preserve of a Gnostic group. She is real to so many. "~ray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death," is possibly the most common prayer of invocation in the Catholic world. We can, perhaps, understand something of her appeal if we consider the best which can be said of Christian life, and glimpse how genuinely she reflects it. The anonymous medieval author mentioned earlier suggests that the human spirit can safely work with God once it "has been checked by the three witnesses, Scripture, direction, and common sense.-3 We can usefully consider how Our Lady reflects authentic Christian living in the light of that rubric. A New Creation Although not to everyone's taste, our faith is incarnational and so, "God'was in Christ reconciling the world to himself" (2 Co 5: 19), says St. Paul. He goes on to explain that, as an apostle and preacher, he shares in the same office of reconciliation, since God "gave us the ministry of reconciliation . . . entrusting to us the message of reconciliation" (2 Co 5: 18-19). It follows, therefore, that "we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us" (2 Co 5:20). Paul's mediatorial role is thus heavily emphasized in line after line. Such a mandate implies that who-ever is so commissioned as God's ambassador to help reconcile people to God must have received the enabling power of God to help him do it. He is, then, attuned to both God and man. His very person helps in binding people to God. "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). How is it done? It all depends on what is seen. Paul begins where the New Testament begins, with God first loving us in Christ. "For the love of Christ overwhelms us when we reflect." (2 Co 5: 14), he says, quite bowled over as he comes to an ever-wondering realization of what God has done for us in Christ. Christ, as one of us, lived, died and rose from a grave so that, in him, we might break out of our congenitally self-centered exis-tence which can even challenge the will of God, and so be able to "live 3~.4 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 no longer for themselves but for him [Christ] who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). Insofar as I am at one with the selfless Christ I can do the same. This vision of God in Christ can,provide the dynamic to draw me out of myself towards the will of God. Paul, a man among men, shackled, too, in the same self-centered world, and so wanting to be free of it, but seemingly powerless to change, now knows that this is possible in Christ. Paint the picture in the most somber colors, as bleak as can be, in a world where personal sin and selfishness can wreak havoc in epidemic proportions, and in it all Paul sees Christ. "For our sake, he [the Father] made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Co 5:21). Whatever depths of evil can be reached individually or collectively, God in Christ is there empowering those who would accept him to break free of its infernal power: "All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself" (2 Co 5:18). This Paul sees and is part of as Christ's ambassador, engaged in reconciling his world to God. So deep is this view of reality that Paul sees it as something wholly new, not just a change or adaptation. "If anyone is in Christ he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:17). His center of reference now is God giving himself in Christ. The selfless Christ replaces the selfish Paul, as he breathes the invigorating air of one now free to live for God.He is still an imperfect man with partial vis~ion, but insofar as his lifeqs a response to God in Christ, he can only describe what is happening to him as a new creation. Ideally, he describes Chris-tian reality. His world has been recreated. Glorifying God If such a grasp of reality is true of Paul and the best of Christians, and true of us :all to a degree, it is, self-evidently, descriptive, too, of Our Lad~,. That vision is flawlessly realized in her. Sinless from her conception and now assumed into heaven, she is a new creation from the mind of God. So alive to God is she that she is alert to the implications of her being way beyond any experience of ours. She hungered for the will of God, so it became her food (see Lk 1:53). "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your Word" (Lk 1:38) is the total response of the new creation. She is blessed, the Gospel maintains, because she believed and there-fore gave herself wholly to the Word of God. She is particularly blessed "among women, and blessed is the fruit of [her] womb" (Lk 1:42) as in her God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself. Her Son Jesus "will save his people from their sins" (Mt i:21). As the Word became Mary and Our Reconciliation / 325 flesh in her womb and in her life, having been welcomed in faith and love into her heart, her maternal being from first to last becomes part of the gift of her Son: "And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother"; "But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister" (Mt 2:1 I, Jn 19:25). Only a mother, perhaps, could under-stand the give and take of that exchange over a lifetime. Mary, one with her Son at so many levels as the years went by, learned so much of life as he lived in and for his Father's will, and yet "he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51). The reflective Chris-tian, too, has assimilated much of the perplexity of life in oneness with the heart of Mary. When she stood with her crucified Son as his life ended in ag6ny, "Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near" (Jn 19:26), and gave them to each other. Far from seeing this as a son tying up loose ends as best he could--his use of the word woman sug-gests more than a domestic arrangement--generations have felt the weight of those words from the Cross, and have gladly accepted the relationship, taking ourLady into their own homes. She is not then seen as just a type or evocative image of yesterday. Her appeal is of today and tomorrow, as her reconciling presence helps Christians to welcome and live the appeal of the Gospel in the Church. Admittedly these Gospel glimpses of Mary are or~ly straws in the wind, but many in the Church have loved the way the wind was blowing. The Pauline sketch of reconciliation in Second Corinthians outlined earlier, can become real in her person. This is especially true of those who could never read St. Paul, nor perhaps even pronounce the word "reconciliation." She radiates Christ, invariably generating the wonder and pleasur6 of Elizabeth's welcome as Mary hurried to her door: "And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" (Lk 1:43). "Mother of my Lord" is, in the context, a new creation in Christ, ideally and providentially there to help reconcile us to God. Her heaven, too, is being spent doing good upon earth. DirectionmWhat Do the Saintlike Advise? Given that Our Lady, because of who she is in the providence of God, mediates God in Christ to us through her feminine, reconciling presence, we can reinforce that insight by continuing to take the advice of an English mystic and seek direction. What did those with the clearest Christian insight advise? What did the saints andsaintlike do? Perhaps we can glance at Julian of Norwich who, in her fourteenth-century hermitage, has distilled 396 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 sufficient insight to be found today on contemporary bookshelves as a best-selling paperback. Julian tlad asked for a bodily vision of Our Lady. She was never given one, but "when Jesus said: 'Do you wish to see her?" it seemed to me that I had the greatest delight that he could have given me in this spiritual vision of her which he gave me.-4 Delight, of course, is characteristic of Julian's understanding of the Faith, and she finds Our Lady delightful. She is enthralled by this God-given insight, and clear as to its implications: "And so he [Jesus] wishes it to be known that all who take delight in him should take delight in her and in the delight that he has in her and she in him." There is no suggestion here of tension, division or embarrassment. It is all so perfectly natural. Julian's understanding of the Faith, like St. Paul's, centers on Godwin Christ reconciling the world to himself through the cross. So suffused is it by the love of God--Julian really had grasped Paul's insight--that she can only delight in what God is doing. Responding as she does to Our Lady, she believes that she is sharing in Christ's delight in his mother and in hers in him. "For after myself [Jesus] she is the greatest ~joy that I could show you, and the greatest delight and honor to me." Far from seeing any contradiction or distraction in so honoring Our Lady, Julian sees it as the express will of Christ. One might reasonably expect this, as the relationship echoes the best in human nature as well as suggesting the hundredfold of all who are at one with God. Whenever delight is experienced, the whole person is marked, together with a~wish that everyone could see it, coupled with sad-ness and incomprehension if the delight cannot be shared. Julian, a new creation in Christ, savoring with an immediacy given to few his reconciling presence, sees Mary as part of the treasure to be found in Christ. Mary, for her, is not tacked on in a moment of misguided devotion, but rather soldered on by the love and will of God, intrinsically, if subordinately, part of the reconciliation found in Christ. In Mary she sees herself and all of us, "as if he [Jesus] said, do you wish to see in her how you are loved? It is for love of you that I have made her so exalted, so noble, so honorable; and this delights me. And I wish it' to°delight you." Maryqs no shadow across the face of Christ, but a further means of shar-ing delight in what God is doing in Christ. As one in Christ we may savor this, too, and insofar as we can see just how much we are loved in her, enjoy a comforting glimpse of our present and future status. It is not without interest that in the shorter text of Julian's "Revela-tions," believed to have been written some twenty years before the longer Mary and Our Reconciliation /327 text we have been using, she adds, after seeing Christ more gloriously than she had yet realized, "In this I was taught that every contemplative soul to whom it is given to look and seek, will see Mary and pass on to God through contemplation.-5 As always, in Julian the tone is uniform and the perspective unforced, and her faith is so alive in her belief that attachment to Our Lady will inevitably bring us to its source in God. Mary herself effects the transition, reconciling to God whoever is open to h~r influence. ~ It is said that, increasingly, women find less and less in Our Lady "as women discover themselves as less passive than Mary is made to appear in the gospels.",° They therefore look for other models. Women can, of course, speak for themselves, but as regards passivity in the gospels, it is useful to remember that the biblical "divine passive" is often just a passive tense serving to emphasize the wholly present activity of God. So, for exam-ple, Paul speaks of Christ, "who for their sake, died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). God in Christ is not molding plasticine. The death and resurrection of Christ is not the behavior of a mechanic using an inert tool, but God's response to a life actively given to his will, even to accepting death in his name. The passive tense implies an active God and willing human Cooperation, and so as Paul said of the process of reconciliation, "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). So, too, when Julian speaks of those "to whom it is given to look and to seek," far from indicating lack of initiative in a passive recipient, she is speaking of someone alert and alive, empowered by the driving Spirit of God:. Motherhood strikes one as possibly the least passive of all vocations, especially as glimpsed in Mary's life in the gospels. She is so attractive and influential today simply because whatever God said she did in'faith. Does anyone really believe that banner headlines in a newspaper or a pic-ture on the cover of Time magazine are the measure of lasting influence? With so much left unsaid in the gosPels, it may well be'that the feminine, creative, nourishing and responsive qualities of Mary are what God has valued in her. Without these, people wither and personal relations are bleak. The old advice is still sound: "Do not teach [God] his business. Let him be. He has enough might, skill and goodwill to do the best for you and for all who love him.''7 Julian is always concerned for her "fellow-Christians," and her delight in the Faith is tangible, though she, too, lived in a socially horrific age. Calm self-possession is her keynote, never raising her voice. There is none of the stress that takes so many women today to the bottle or drugs, the counselor or the hospital. So many are living lives of quiet desperation, while others are teetering on the edge of despair. She writes out of con- Review for Religious, ~May--June, 1987 cern, with the simplicity of wisdom reflecting what she sees in faith. Her teaching of the natural delight of mother and son, and Christ's desire that we share in it, since we see just how much we are loved by God .in her, is surely, "simple, courteous, joyful.''8 Her guidance is at one with so much that is good in the Church. Common Sense God was in Christ recon~ciiing the world to himself. Those closest to him are effective mediators of his presen.ce. Clearly, "Paul, an apostle-- not from men or through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father" (Ga l:l), is superbly placed, but the origin of that call is valid, too, for Our Lady: Immaculately~conceived, bringing Christ into the world, raising him, beside him as he died, praying in the Church then, and now within the Church gloriously assumed into heaven, common sense would suggest that such a woman cannot but help in reconciling us to God. "This is only what sanctified common sense would expect: that God should keep safe all who for love of him forsake themselves, indifferent to their Own welfare.-9 The safety that is now hers she wants to be ours, and almost instinctively the Catholic faithful have felt this. In view of who she ~is in the providence of God, generations have opened themselves to her influ-ence in an often very unsafe world. G.K. Chesterton emphasized this when he told of the reaction of two eminent nineteenth.century Victorians to news of the proclamation of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception. Prince Albert was the husband of the leg-endary Queen Victoria who gave her name to an era, .and W.E. Gladstone was one of the outstaffding political figures of the age. If Chesterton is to be believed, the proposed declaration by the pope of Our Lady's Immac-ulate Conception was greeted with indecent hilarity by the former and with grief by the latter, as each in his own way saw in it the sign of the immi-nent downfall of Catholic. Christianity. Both were agreed that it would be unpopular. Albert and Gladstone, who both worked conscientiously for the poor, "understood so little of what that crown and image really meant to millions of ordinary people . Yet the applewoman did not dash madly out of church; seamstresses in garrets did not dash their little images ,of Mary to the ground, on learning that she was named Immaculate."~° Chesterton then speak~ of the first appearance of Our Lady at Lourdes some four years later. While the influential and educated still puzzled, "little knots of poor peasants began to gather round a strange, starved child before a crack in the rocks from whence was to spring a strange stream and almost a new city; the rocks she had heard resound with a voice crying, 'I am the Immaculate Conception.' " Did Albert and Gladstone~ men of Mary and Our Reconciliation / 329 integrity, even remotely approach the influence for good with ordinary people that is associated with the name Bernadette Soubirous? Shrines such. as Lourdes and private revelations such as Julian's are not to be considered as though from St. Paul and the gospels. Yet as a fact of life within the Church and with the approval of the Church, such places and similar insights undeniably have helped reconcile so many from every walk of life to God. In the light of Mary's Immaculate Conception each one of us is handicapped and in need, and she has particular appeal for those who are aware of their need. Here, especially, her faith and her fem-ininity are found so attractive, as she is known to be present now in imag-inative sympathy. In the circumstances, common sense would direct us to her company. Jimmy Durante used to celebrate that he was "the guy who found the lost chord." Unhappily, in the same breath, he had to admit that he had lost it again! It is given to few to be truly original. Life, genes, language, skills, food--virtually everything of consequence that has made us what we are have been mediated to us by others. It is the human condition, and it is the supernatural condition. Even the insights of a St. Paul are, under God, largely the result of an interchange, often troubled, between himself and his people. "The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge," may not be valid in terms of personal guilt, but it is true in terms of personal influence. Human beings transmit life and superb medical care, as well as AIDS and drug-dependent babies. Often the fruits of the Spirit are mediated through others as are the sins of the flesh. We all have reason to thank God for some of the people we have met as well as to regret the influence of others. As mediated experience is a fact of life for good or ill, common sense; would suggest that nothing but good can come from opening ourselves to Our Lady's influence. Her selfless, perceptive being, one person in Christ with ourselves, radiates God as she delights in the Lord her Savior. What-ever life did to her, "Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Lk 2:19). Open to her reconciling influence, we too can assimilate experience, responding to God's presence in a sacramental world. Finally, common sense would especially commend that religious, who "ought to be poor in both fact and spirit" (Perfectae Caritatis 13), con-sider Our Lady's guidance in the search to be truly reconciled to God. She sees further and more clearly than any other guide in the Church, and her encouraging presence is always here. With increasing affluence, or possi-bly insensitivity, numbers of religious travel far looking for enlightenment. It is not wrong of course, but there does seem to be an innate contradic- 330 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 tion in the context of poverty when, for example, the search may take a religious to an a~hram in India, the deserts of Israel or California, or to the monasteries of Japan, Whatever insight is gained may be at the cost of a threadbare vow of poverty. Our Lady once appeared so nondescript as not to merit a first glance when she came with the offering of .the poor. Yet to the one truly enlight-ened by the Holy Spirit she was seen to be carrying in her arms "a light for revelation to the Gentiles" (Lk 2:32). She still reflects that same light now wherever we are in Christ. NOTES ~ M. Furlong, "The Power of,Images," The Way, October 1986, p. 299. 2 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter II, in The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works, Penguin Books, 1978. 3 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 4 Julian of Norwich, Showings, Chapter 215, tr. E. C011edg~ and J. Walsh, Paulist Press, New York, 1978. All quotations are from Chapter 25 of this edition. 5 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 6 M o Furlong, op. cit., p. 299. 7 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 8 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 9 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 6. ~0GoK. Chesterton, The Strange Talk of Two Victorians, and The Common Man, Sheed and Ward, 1950. Each quotation is from this essay. Brothers in the Church: A Vocational Reflection William Mann, F.S.C. Brother Mann is in his eighth year as a Formation Counselor for the Brothers of the Christian Schools. He had also served as Assistant Provincial for Formation (1979- 1984) and Director of Novices up to the present. He may be, addressed at: Christian Brothers; 83 West Lake Street: Skaneateles, New York 13152. ,~ few years ago, I volunteered to work at a Soup kitchen in Rhode Island. As my first experience of working with the street poor, it was both diffi-cult and challenging. Most of the time, I was afraid; and my fear kept me washing dishes and away from the people. I was attempting to make my contribution and avoid contact at the same time. On more courageous days, I would visit the dining room to sit and talk with the guests. Occasionally, I ventured, into the lounge to socialize after a meal. On one particularly hot day, a six-year-old child walked over to me, climbed into my lap, and using a shredded and badly soiled napkin wiped the perspiration from my forehead. He kissed my cheek, hugged me, and moved my heart. So para-lyzed by my own fears that I found it difficult to offer hospitality, this poor child reached out and offered me love. The story of my encounter with this young boy in a soup kitchen high-lights four key aspects of the vocation of Brother: I) ours is primarily a ministry of example; 2) our ministry on behalf of the Gospel and on behalf of the sanctification of others r~quires our own radical transformation; 3) those to whom we minister will be the instruments of our own conversion; and 4) 9urs is, therefore, primarily a ministry of reciprocity and mutuality. At the time that this incident occurred, I was teaching English and reli-gion in a coed secondary school. "Example makes a much greater 331 339 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 impression on the mind and heart than words."~ If I wanted my students to take seriously the admonition of Jesus to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and visit the imprisoned, then I knew that I was going to have to put those words into action myself. In twenty-two years as a Brother of the Christian Schools, I can hon-estly say that I have attempted to put my life at the service of the Gospel. As teacher, activity moderator, dormitory supervisor, school administrator, retreat director, and now formation counselor, I have worked consistently at proclaiming the Gospel by word and by example. Often this has been a humbling experience. "We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). My entire life as a vowed religious brother is a sincere, and yet sometimes inadequate, attempt to put the Gospel into practice. Accompanying those students each Wednesday to the soup kitchen was just one concrete instance of living out this commitment. "Your zeal for the children under your guidance would be very imperfect, if you expressed it only in teaching them; it will only become perfect if you practice yourself what you are teaching them. ''~- The example of Chris-tianity lived is what "brother-ing" is all about. Although religious brothers have traditionally been identified by the work we do (teacher, health practitioner, parish assistant, or manual laborer), I contend that our particular ministry, while significant in terms of individual congregations, is not of the essence of our vocation in the Church. It is the choice to be called "brother" which has always pinpointed our key contribution. Our very existence as brothers announces the new world order ushered in by Christ. We understand ourselves to be among those chosen by God "long ago and intended to become true ima.ges of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers [and sisters]" (Rm 8:29). The Scriptures tirge us to "love our neighbor as ourself" (Mt 22:39). That child reached out to me in love; and I believe that, in his person, Jesus Christ reached out to me and reminded me that, since God is my Father, all of us are'brothers and sisters. That young child reminded me that I was his brother, and challenged me to accept the people around me and not to get caught up in the differences of age, class, or color. He reminded me that God intends that we should love one another and that we should let go of the prejudices, defenses, fears, and barriers that hold us back from truly being his children, brothers and sisters of one another. This very ministry in which I was engaged on behalf of others was requiring that I °Brothers in the Church / 333 change. I was being challenged to live more fully the message that I preached. I was at the soup kitchen on this particular day precisely because I was trying to educate my students to share the gifts and the blessings of their own lives with those less fortunate. However, Jesus used the opportunity to challenge me to see him among the poor. This is the second key aspect of the vocation of brother; our consecration as brothers commits us to a life of transformation. Loving Jesus always means being changed. I wanted to help my students; Jesus chose to help me be more open to receiving the blessing the poor could be in my life. I went to the soup kitchen hoping to embody the loving presence of Jesus in the world; I returned home having encountered Jesus' loving presence in another. Initially, it seemed ironic that I was challenged to live the Gospel more wholeheartedly by the very people for whom I was attempting to be its proclamation. This was, however, the very heart of the teaching of St~ John Baptist DeLaSalle on what it means to be a brother. Furthermore, this was not only DeLaSalle's teaching; it was his own experience. We minister to others, but they call us to holiness. St. John Baptist DeLaSalle founded the Brothers of-the Christian Schools in France in 1679 to give a Christian education to the children of the working class and the poor. By 1682, however, the Society of the Chris-tian Schools was threatened with collapse. DeLaSalle urged his first di~cj-. pies to trust in Providence. As with the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, God would provide (Mt 6:25-30). The brothers challenged .DeLaSalle's right to say these things. He still had great family weal~l~ and a prestigious position as Canon of the Cathedral of Reims. What did he know of trusting in Divine Providence? If the schools collapsed, he would be safe. In his attempt to minister to the brothers, DeLaSalle hims61f was called' to holiness. He attempted to announce the Gospel to them; they challenged tiimto a fuller living of the Gospel. The first biographers report that so complete was his devotion tO the brothers and to the foundation of the Christian Schools that he heard in their challerlge the invitation of Jesus to take the Gospel more seriously, resign his Canonry, and distribute his wealth among the poor.3 Christ continues to speak to the brother through his disciples. If" we open our eyes and our hearts, we will continue to hear in them the invita-tion to draw closer to God. I believe that~this is what DeLaSalle meant when he wrote: "You can be assured that if you act this way [with an ardent zeal] for their salvation, God himself will take responsibility for yours."4 He was not speaking here of some kind of mysterious and passive 334 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 transformation. He was articulating his own experience. In proclaiming the Gospel to others, the Gospel lays claim on our own hearts. God uses the people and the situations of our lives to evangelize us. Through them and for the sake of the Gospel, God gradually refashions us into the image of his Son. Over and over again, the people and the situations of my life have pro-vided the opportunity to draw closer to Christ. There have been many times in my life when Jesus has asked me to recognize him and to love him in another person. Sometimes that person has been someone for whom I cared deeply; at times, that person has been a complete stranger. What has so often struck me in the Gospel has been the ability of Jesus to be open to all kinds of people in so many different situations. He saw in every person he met a reflection of his Father, a new and unique and beautiful side of God that could be seen in no other person or in no other place on this earth. I believe that Jesus calls us to open our eyes and our hearts to him as he continues to show himself to us in one another. Hence, ours is a ministry marked by reciprocity and mutuality. "They are a letter which Christ dictates to you, which you write each day in their hearts, not with ink, but by the Spiri! of the living God.-5 In inviting others to holiness, our own lives are opened to holiness. Those to whom we min-ister facilitate the capturing by the Gospel of our own hearts. I more and more suspect that this is the key aspect of the vocation of brother. In our openness to the evangelical dimension of everyday life, we provide our clearest witness on behalf of the Gospel. What greater example can be given than that I allow another to become the instrument of my own con-version to a fuller living of Gospel values? Jesus Christ is the "pearl of great price" (Mt 13: 44-46), and I ardently .desire to "share Jesus with those who have been entrusted to my care. We brothers desire to share "the treasure we have found hidden in the field of our own lives. ,,6 Our world is already bombarded with empty and meaningless words. What is needed are people who not only speak of Jesus but who act as followers of Jesus. What is needed are people who follow him so wholeheartedly that they become new incarnations of God's loving presence in the world. This is what I believe the vocation of brother is all about; this is what I am trying to do with my life---do this because I.believe this is what God Wants me to do. Furthermore, I do it because I believe that there are millions of people on our planet today~some Chris-tians, some Jews and Moslems, som6 far away, but very many are young Americans who look,to see if anyone any longer takes Jesus Christ seri- Brothers" in the Church / 335 ously. What hangs in the balance is the very credibility of the Gospel itself: 7 St. Paul assures us that the wisdom of this world is not the wisdom of God (I Co 3~!9); and I do not doubt that, in the face of a modern' Amer-ican society that encourages and fosters a pursuit of pleasure, possessions, and self-interest,8 it is perceived by many as foolhardy to be willing to want God to be more important than anything else in this world, and courageous enough to take the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. Yet we broth-ers are bold enough to believe that our own radical, personal conversion to Gospel values really has the potential to make a difference in the lives of those around us. We believe that this is the gift which Jesus Christ intends us to be for his Church. As DeLaSalle writes: "Be convinced of what St. Paul says, that you plant and water the seed, but it is God through Jesus Christ who makes it grow, that he is the one who brings your work to fulfillment?. ~ Earnestly ask him to make his Spirit come alive in you, since he has chosen you to do his work.-9 NOTES ~ John Baptist DeLaSalle, Meditations for the Time of Retreat, trans. Augustine Loes (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1975), p. 94] 2 DeLaSalle, p. 80~ 3 John Baptist Blain, The Life. of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. Richard Arnandez (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1982), Vol. I, Book I, pp. 81-84; Eli Maillefer, The Life of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. William Quinn (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1963), pp. 27-28. 4 DeLaSalle, p. 91. 5 DeLaSalle, p. 54. 6 Jose Pablo Basterrechea, "Address of the Superior General to the Regional Convoca-tion of the Brothers of the Christian Schools" (Mgraga, California: Regional Convoca-tion, 1984). 7 James Wallis, The Call to Conversion (S~in Francisco! Harper and Row, 1981); Pedro Arrupe, "What Is the Greatest Service Which Religious Can Give Today to Human-ity and to the Church?" Donum Dei No. 24 (1978). 8 John Kavanaugh, Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, ~981). 9 DeLaSalle, p. 56. ' Appropriate Formation Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother O'Reilly, Director:of Formation for his community in Liberia, previously wrote "Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis"r (November/Dece,mbe.r issue, 1985). His address is: Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia; West Africa. When Captain Smith of the Titanic uttered the words, "The only ice around here, Sparks, is in my drink," he was displaying a characteristic common to most of us--skepticism. When many American and European religious hear of the great vocation boom within the develoPing churches and look at their own decreasing numbers and formation houses being turned into retreat centers and homes for the aged, they skeptically wonder: "How it is that so many young Africans and others are being attracted to living a life of community, prayer and service as religious?" When I returned to Liberia in 1982 after an absence of eight years, we still had no local brothers in our West African communities~espite erect-ing a novitiate building in 1975 and having made it clear toall and sundry that we were keen to welcome local candidates into our communities. As I write this article in 1987 we have, to date, eighteen Wes~ African mem-bers and a thriving candidacy.program. We have just missioned our first West African brothers to set up a new community to work among leprosy sufferers, and fully expect to open another community elsewhere in either Liberia or Sierra Leone during the coming year. It seems fantastic to many in our congregation that in the space of five years we have more novices and junior professed religious in West Africa than in many of our other pro-vinces combined together. When people ask me how it is, I usually tell 336 Appropridte Formation / 337 them that it is the Holy Spirit's work--and something called "Appropri-ate Formation." This article will be concerned with defining the meaning of a religious formation that is~rooted within a developing-church situation. I will be using categories and concepts normally associated with the development of appropriate technology in developing economic and social orders, and .'using them to map out a theory of religious formation that is ,appropri-ate" to this new wave of young religious that congregations throughout the developing world are beginning to welcome into their ranks. In the second part of the article I will outline some of the important issues that our own young West Africah members felt should be on the agenda for an appro-priate formation. Appropriate Formation: A Definition Appropriate formation involves the application of the principles of reli-gious life to concrete local situations. This means developing ways or "technologies" which can be defined as "replicable methods for solving community problems and developing the capacities of communities to achieve their own goals" (S.B. Fawcett, R.M. Mathews and R.K. Fletcher, "Some Promising Dimensions for Behavioral Community Tech-nology," Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 13, 1980). These authors propose that seven dimensions of a technology must be considered to ensure the appropriateness of the technology: - Effectiveness - Expense - Decentralization - Flexibility -Sustainability - Simplicity - Compatibility A new technology means anew way of.doing things for the people who use the technology or who are affected by its use. For any significant change in behavior or attitudes to persist and the technology to be effective, the rewards, satisfactions and achievements obtained have to clearly outweigh the efforts and difficulties involved. For this to happen in the area of religious formation, formators need to have a firm understanding of what are to be the intended outcomes, methods t6 be used, content to be consid-ered and evaluation procedures which will° make up their formation pro-gram. This will, of necessity, demand that'~i formator sit down with both professed members of the group a~d neophytes, and work out what real- 338 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 istic goals a formation community can set itself, what practical wfiys they can be realized, and their appropriateness evaluated at different stages of the formation program. Inexpensiveness is of'considerable importance in a context such as West Africa since cash incomes are generally low. If we expect r~ligious from such regions ,!o earn their own keep and to be credible followers of the "chaste, poor and obedient Christ" for their people, then their formation experience should~prepare them f6r this reality. The end values of religious life shouid"not be obscured by the trappings of a partiCular lifestyle that is alien to the majority of Candidates prior tO entering a religious com-munity. Decentralization means the application of technology at a local level rather than from a remote center. Local religious will need to assume full responsibility .for the living out of their commitment, and not look to over-seas generalates and provincialates for direction on every facet of their lives. They are "the people on the spot," and they need both the compe-tence and the confideqce to discern in what direction the Spirit is calling them. As far as possible, ~those in initial formation need to be shown that responsibility and accountability are intrinsic to religious life. If candidates are not willing to grow in these areas, then there is no place for them 4n a religious community. If formation technologies are not flexible there is. little chance that people will be prepared to handle the gigantic social and pastora, I devel-opments that are taking place in so many parts of the world. There has to be a clear distinction made during religious formation between the end values and the means values of religious life. The end values are not negotiable, but the means ones can be redefined in the light of new insights among the members and the needs of the Church and of society. A flex-ible dimension in religious formation will concern itself with presenting a range of options to cope with specific concerns, and will include guide-lines for Change according to the felt needs of the group in formation. A frequent concern of formation personnel is that many young reli-gious, after having passed through the novitiate, experience a painful regression to the state they were in prior to entering the community. It is as though no significant personal or spiritual development had taken place. Often the cause~of this is because the technology, or way of being a reli-gious, is not sustainable: at the local community level. They leave the novitiate with either unreal expectations of what religious life will be,, and are disillusioned with what they find to be t.he reality~ or they flounder with- 6ut ihe strong guiding hand of a r~ligious specifically missioned to help Appropriate Formation / 339 them overcome every hurdle they may encounter. A gradualist strategy is needed during formation wherein "stretch-outs" are provided so as to allow young religious to know what it means to live, pray and work in a typical community of the congregation. Here they can focus on the con-crete problems of religious life rather than on the long range goal-setting which makes up so much of the agenda of religious formation. A new technology must be simple and comprehensible enough to be understood by its potential users. Religious formators will need to acknowl-edge the "multi-path" approach when dealing with candidates coming from differing social, economic and educational and faith backgrounds. There. have to be features of a formation program that provide for acceler-ation when goals are realized and values interiorized, and a locking-in system that prevents regression from gains obtained. Finally, any new technology must fit into the community or society at large. To be compatible with the surroundings from which the candidates are comirig and in which their religious formation is taking place, the new technology must be seen to work. It must be seen to provide religious men and women whose lifestyle is clearly valued and appreciated by the immedi-ate society. If religious life is seen as wholly meaningless by those around, it is difficult to see how an individual can commit himself or herself unreservedly to such a vocation. Appropriate Formation: An Agenda I want to turn now to a consideration of what are some of the problems facing young local religious. I shall outline these issues within the frame-work of the three end values of religious life---community, prayer and ser-vice. To identify what are the problems our young religious will have to confront is the necessary first step towards devising a formation program appropriate to the people and situation in which religious life will find a new beginning. Community. ~ The issue of where a person's primary loyalties lie---either with one's extended family or with the community--is a source of tension for most local religious at one stage.or another of their lives. Appropriate formation must tackle this area sensitively but una.mbiguously: "No, a community cannot take on the responsibility of supporting and educating younger mem-bers of a local religious' family; but yes, a community will help in a crisis or an emergency as best as it can." Formal membership in a religious.con-gregation must broaden a person's "in" group to .those past and living mem-bers of the congregation around the world. If the extended family holds 340 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 the central loyalties of the young religious, then eventually a clash will come and he or she will be the casualty. It is hard to be a citizen of two worlds! Unless serious efforts are made to tackle the issue where a person's identity and sense of belonging lie, feelings of inauthenticity may arise within the young religious, and eventually may lead to their departure from the community. Likewise, with the question of tribal or national bonds, while encour-aging people to be proud of their heritage, those distinctions which blur the call of a person to see everyone as his or her brother or sister in Christ, must be faced up to during the period of initial formation. Tribalism, mean-ing the preference for one's own tribe over national interests, is a growing political concern in post-colonial Africa. Local religious can easily fall into a tribal mentality with disastrous consequences for community living. Going against tribalism is no easy thing and young religious need to be under no illusion that to have respect for each person's tribal identity is one of the primary signs that they can give to their people of the inclusive nature of the kingdom of God. Many of those who apply for membership in religious communities in developing countries carry with them stories of how they had to struggle against all odds to complete their schooling and perhaps to start in a career. This experience of being a "survivor," when so many of their friends gave up along the road, can lead some to evaluate any or every facet of religious life in terms of what they can get materially from the community--instead of what they can give to the community. Every formation community fairly exudes the idea that there are those already in the community (i,e., they own the house, the bedsheets and the marmalade), and those who wish to join the community. This is a classic "donor-receiver" situation. Usually it takes years for a religious to believe that the house and community pos-sessions are not "theirs" but "ours." In a developing-country situation this "donor-receiver" mentality can persist far longer when the professed religious are white and those joining the community are black. Obviously, religious life means old and young, black and white--or ~,hatever other contrasts a person cares to make between people--all attempting to live in harmony together. This is our" witness of the kingdom and the means by which we build up the Church. For that to happen, there has to be a basic leveling among the members of the community. Formators need to devise ways in which local religious can "own," not only the community goods, but the core values at the heart of the community. Prayer Appropriate Formation / 341 . Much of religious formation, in the spiritual domain, is concerned with deepening a person's,capacity for, and appreciation of, a "grace-full" rela-tionship with Jesus. This is a task for religious formators worldwide, but in my experience, .those working in countries with a strong animist tradi-tion have added challenges. The first one is helping young religious see that prayer, to be real; must be a constant part 6f a person's life. Just praying when the community decides to pray in common is not enough. When prayer is simply a duty expected of one by others, then the shallowness of a person's prayer~life will be revealed when serious vocational problems arise and a ~oung~reli-gious doesn't really believe that there is a God who is ready to love, under~ stand and forgive. In my experience of countries with a strong animist tra-dition, God is more than likely to be feared rather than loved, .and for-giveness is at a price. Coupled to the above challenge is that of helping local candidates real-ize that the form and structure of prayer are not ends in themselves. They are only aids to developing an'awareness of God in ~ne's life and in encour-aging prayerful living. The tendency in the animist tradition to overstress the ma,.gical nature of prayer can lead to a marked separation ~of the sacred and the secular, andah inability to make the "stuff Of daily living" the quarry for one's own prayer. A third challenge I believe formators can have is helping young reli-gious recognize that their own people's spiritual heritage can provide them with stepping stones to discover and value the face of God in Jesus. They will need a strong, personal faith to be able to discern authentically the pres- 6nee of God in their people's faith history, and a vision of the Church as embracing all peoples and cultures, as acknowledging and respecting the I,ocal character of each people. Service In many countries where the Church is newly rooted, much is made of a person's final profession or ordination--I suppose because local reli-gious and priests are still a rarity in many places. Sadly, perhaps, not a few young men and women leave the altar as newly professed or ordained with a very exalted view of themselves. They go on mission with a mentality, more suited to starting a career than a vocation. We need a model of the "servant" Church as never before in devel-oping countries. Otherwise the cr6"dibility and respect which the first mis-sionaries earned from the people will vanish. If there are not local men and women prepared to minister with total conviction and compassion to the marginalized of their society,, then things do not look well for the future. 349 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that there are people amongst those seeking to follow "the chaste, poor and obedient Christ" who have the dynamism and selflessness of those first missionaries. But they will need every encouragement and incen-tive to rise above merely identifying with the better educated and affluent members of their society. Appropriate format.ion will need to stress the distinction between a career and a vocation, and to present clearly and simpl~, the model of Jesus who had "nowhere to lay his head," who could welcome all and who was wholly caught up in doing the will of his Father. Conclusion Thi~ article has concerned itself with indicating dimensions of a for-mation program that must be appropriate to the persons it serves and to the so(iety in which such people will minister. I have pointgd out some of the priorities I feel that formators involved in develpping-church situations need to take note of and to put.on their formation agenda. To those who are skep-tical concerning the future of religious life in the. world today, let me end wiih a quote from Samuel Beckett: "He sat with me in the dark room of my doubt and lit a candle." During my five years of close involvement with religious forma_tion in West Africa, I have seen that candle glowing, and my hope is that religious throughout the world will, like me, grow in certainty by its light. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. Growth Producing Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation Donna Marie Wilhelm, S.N.D. Since writing this article, Sister Donna Marie has been transferred to Sarasota's Cardi-nal Mooney High School where she now teaches and is local superior. She may be addressed at 4004 Fruitville Road; Sarasota, Florida 33582. Liberal, conservative; masculine, feminine; introvert, extrovert; Ignatian, Franciscan; adjectives--"labels" that describe experience, that are valu-able as long as they do not become restrictive in their attempt to'describe, as long as they do not bind rather than free us for growth and understand-ing. These labels are set up in tension as opposites, or perhaps better as complements. Their value is not so much in setting persons in opposition to one another, but in directing them to wholeness of vision. They provide for an expression of tension that can lead to healthy growth and a more com-plete outlook on life and experience. I believe that formation, too, is about tension--healthy tension--that is inherent in the process itself. Tensions exist throughout the period of initial formation with varying emphases and with differing intensities. This is particularly true in the pre-novitiate period. One of the dangers in the beginning of the formation process is that some individuals, once they begin to live in a community setting, may live out of a sense of finality that says, "I have made my decision. This is where God wants me. Just tell me what to do in order to be a good Sister of Notre Dame (or Franciscan or whatever) and I will do it." A stance like this needs to be explored gently, and then laid to rest as a false and harmful presupposi-tion. 343 344 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that it is more accurate to define vocation as a verb rather than a noun, as E.F. O'Doherty has suggested in The Psychology of Vocation. A vocation is not something that I "have"; it is a possibility for me to "become." Implied in this kind of definition is the reality that following a particular vocation involves a repeated act of choosing. In the initial stages it involves decision-making that then becomes the raw material for an ongoing discernment process. For the remainder of this article I want to describe three of the tensions that I think are common to those who are new to the religious process: those in pre-novitiate. Since formation does not happen in a vacuum but in the context of community, community members and attitudes among members are very important in helping the individuals in formation to negotiate these tensions successfully. Child/Adult. Jean Vanier has said, "When people come into a community they are usually in a state where you can ask anything at all of them . People coming into community have a child's grace.''1 This stateof becoming "like a child" again i~ a result of a variety of factors: the initial joy and enthusiasm of any beginner; the "rush" that comes with "finally arriv-ing"; but perhaps most importantly there is a tremendous loss of the famil-iar for the newcomer. o Ray B(adbury in his book Dandelion Wine tells a story that points to the importance of the familiar, of the everyday. It is a story of two y, oung boys and their summer discoveries through everydayness. Doug, the older boy, decides to keep a record bf the summer's adventures in a yellow nickel tablet. In explaining his plan to his brother Tom, Doug begins: I'm going to divide the su.mmer up in two parts. First part of this tablet is titled: Rites and Ceremonies. The first root beer pop of the year. The first time of the year running barefoot in the grass. First time of the year almOst drowning in the lake. First watermelon. First mosquito. First har-vest of dandelions. Those are the things we do over and over and over and never think. Now here in the back, like I said, is Discoveries and Revelations or maybe Illuminations, that's a swell word, or Intuitions, okay? 'in other words you do an o!d familiar thing, like bottling dandelion wine and" you put that under Rites and Ceremonies. And then you think about it, and what you thinkr crazy or not, you put under Discoveries and Revelatiohs. Here's wha~ I got on the wine: Every time you bottle it, yo~u got .a whole chunk of 1928 put away, safe.2 Wh~t Bradbury recounts is in many ways similar t~ the dynamic of the familiar in our lives, the movement from the experience of the world.,gs Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 345 alien, through a sense of well-being, to an awakening to "otherness." Our first experience as children, or later in life as beginners in a religious for-mation process, is one of awe, dread, an overwhelming helplessness and powerlessness. As children, this sense of, anxiety is usually answered by our parents who provide a caring atmosphere in which we can experience some security. We need this sense of security and familiarity with persons, things and event~ in order to function in this world. This movement from helplessness'and powerlessness to security and familiarity is a "child to adult" movement. Being "at home" in our world is also essential to our spirituality. We need to be grounded in the familiar and the ordinary, since it is that grounding that gi'ves us a feeling of belonging, at homeness, security. And these experiences point to a deeper ground, ou~ groundedness in God in faith, hrpe and love. Our faith in God must be incarnated in our experience, and this happens as we reflect 6n the everyday occurrences where God touches our lives. If what is familiar and "everyday" in our lives is so important to our adulthood, to our functioning and to our grounding in God, then losing our"' sense of "at homeness" in our day-to-day living is a significant loss. It is this loss that brings us back to being like a child again, a child in an alien world. What takes place at the onset of the pre-novitiate is e~actly that: the loss of the familiar. "Familiar" in this context may mean different things for different individuals but for most it includes job, apartment, car, friends and family and a certain degree of indepepdence ih action and in decision-making. Loss of the familiar is often accompanied by a feeling that "I'm out of control," a feeling of helplessness in my new environment. In many candidates this is expressed by a loss of ability to do something as simple as balancing time, and that results in lost hours of sleep, cutting down on leisure and exercise to make up, loss of efficienqy on the job, in ministry or at school. Moving into a new place with new people requires a tremendous adjust-ment. It involves~a period of trying to determine what "the rules" are in this group .with whom I have chosen to live. It is a time of grieving for many losses. And it is a time that is often ac~companied by regression, the return to patterns of behavior that helped us to cope with an alien world when we were children. One of the problems in c?mmunity is that this regressive behavior can be very disconcerting to the "old-timers" unless they are aware of what is happening. It is a crucial period when the com-munity must offer support and understanding, but must carefully guard against giving a formula for a new identity too soon. As in any loss, the loss of what is familiar can break the newcomer open to another necessary 346 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 element of life,- the transcendent. The pain of this experience can be an invitation to the candidate to begin the process of lived discernment, of choosing his or her vocation in day-to-day life. A further difficulty.in community can occur if the purpose of this time of formation is not well understood. The heart of the pre-novitiate is built on the call to holiness that all Christians share. That call must be explored and deepened through gradual growth in self-awareness and developing nat~ ural gifts, in dealing with past losses and hurts, in deepening prayer and in learning the dynamics of community living. "Our candidates are older women," some community members say, "women with education, with work and life experience. Why do they need to spend a year or two in a pre-noyitiate process?" It is a very common mistake to look at a person's age, work experience, social skills and make a statement like "Why can't she just begin as a novice?" It is so important not to equate age absolutely with any given level of human maturity, of experience, of spiritual or pro-fessional development. Accompanying women, especially older ones has ¯ only confirmed my belief that each individual is composed of many com-plex variables, and the time spent at the beginning of the formation pro-cess is not "lost" but is essential to provide a confirmation of gifts, an accurate assessment of needs and limitations, and then time to allow the individual to begin to build a foundation for continuing discernment for the future. This is the purpose of the pre-novitiate as it is described in Essen-tial Eletnents. It is the period "in which the genuineness of the call is iden-tified as far as possible . -3 It is a time of growth, not stagnation. Being In/Being Out Another significant area of tension for those in the pre-novitiate pro-cess is the tension that is created by not being a "real" member of the congregation, by hot even, strictly speaking, being a "religious," while living in a house of the congregation with its real members, more or less according to their manner of life. One of the major emphases in the doc-uments dealing with formation that have been published since Vatican Coun-cil II is that of the concept of gradual transition, that is, the idea that the mok, ement from the previous lifestyle to the life of religious consecration should be a gradual, not an abrupt one, and that it involve a time of transi-tion rather than of drastic or dramatic change. Congregations have made many and varied efforts in this diri~ction. They have developed vocation-awareness activities that reach into the elementary schools, retreats and overnight experiences for high school stu-dents, and live-in programs for those who hre seriously considering the option of religious life.-'Many congregations have begun nonresident affil- Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation 347 iate programs to give interested men or women an even closer experience of their life. These efforts are all for the sake of gradual acquaintance and transi-tion, find they are invaluable. They need to be carried into the period of pre-novitiate as well. One way to accomPlish this is to establish the pre-novitiate community as an "in-between" community as Vanier cails it in his book Community and Growth. IdeallY this community will be com-posed of the candidates, the director ahd several oth,er professed members who represent different mir~istries. I am not speaking here of simply moving the candidates and director into an established local community-- even though in fact this is what may happen. The difference is that the pri-mary purpose for the existence of the "in-between" community is to pro-vide a formative environment for the candidates. Such a community pro-vides an environment which facilitates the transition of the individual from being an independent lay man or woman to being incorporated as a com-munity member, and finally to becoming a committed member of this specific community and congregation~. It must, be an environment that encourages reflective living, where acceptance is~not based on conformity. What is of primary significance at this stage is to foster human growth and a sense of responsibility towards the life, not to provide a cozy escape from decision-making or a neat set of dos and don'ts. Such a community will provide a rhythm of life that is the "bare bones" for continued discernment; a rhythm of reflection, silence and prayer. It must give the time for candidates to participate in courses or group direction that con-tinue, to develop knowledge of the faith and of the spiritual life. Finally it will provide opportunities for some type of initial exposure to the ministries of the congregation and for some connectedness with the local Church. The individual who +omes to a pre-novitiate experience has made a definite decision and commitment, and so has the congregation ~vhich he or she has joined. Being "in-b~tween" does not water down that commit-ment or mitigate the decision. Rather it gives the space f~)r the candidate" to do two very important things: t~) learn hoW to live in community arid to adjust significant relationships to his or her new lifestyle. These issues are important ones in becoming a member of any community, not just a religious congregation. Outlining the elements in "learning" community is simple. Living them is a tremendous challenge. At the very beginning, a knowledge of the stages in the growth Of a community is essential, as is an awareness of some basic dynamics that can occur. I have found the material provided 3till / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 by Hammet and Soefield in their book Inside Christian Community extremely helpful in these areas. Communication and dealingwith conflict are two other key issues. I believe that the most difficult of any of these is conflict management. This is true not only for the newcomer, but for most of us who have lived in religious communities for years. Each time I am involved in a workshop on this topic with our candidates I am aware of how much more I must learn. It is so iinportant to be patient, firm, and to provide supportive gui.d:~ ance in this area. Above all, experienced community members must not fall into the trap of becoming the rescuer between two candidates or a can-didate and another community member who may have taken on the roles of victim ancl persecutor in regard to each other. Being willing to sit down and role-play situations or conversations is a valuable tool here. In sum, the skills of conflict management must be practiced, our limitations and weakness shared, if growth is to occur. ~ The "in-between" climate of the pre-novitiate community also pro-vides the space necessary for the candidates to adjust significant relation-ships in their lives. This is particularly important for candidates who come with a broad base of family, friends and work-related contacts. It takes time and the freedom to move in and out of community to make the decisions necessary to maintain some relationships, to let go of others', and to invest in new ones within the community or in a ministerial setting. This is no small task because it involves community members who can allow for free-dom but also who, through modeling and guidance, can gradually intro-duce the candidates into the obligations and time commitments that com-munity life can and must of its very nature demand. Providing opportunities for the community to get to know the family and friends of the candidate can be extremely helpful and enrichi.n.g for both. Visiting, inviting family members to share in celebrations, and other casual contacts are,just a few ways to do this. Again, grow,th must be suppprted by u,nderstanding, hon-esty, openness in dialogue, and willingness to search together for the best decisions. In these areas, too, we are dealing with choosing a lifestyle, with making decisions that are more and more--or less and less-~consonant with one particular life direction rather than another. Fitting In/Impacting For Change A newcomer to any group can be expected to ask the question, "What d6,.I have to do to fit in here, to be one of you?" He or she may also say "I have talents, gifts, a vision to offer that may call for some changes in our group. Will they be acce.pted?" The tension between the desire to "fit in" and the need to influence toward change is born in these questions. Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 349 There is, I believe, a very real sense in which a candidate in any religious congregation must "fit" if not "fit in." In an attempt to be "liberated" and "open" to everything, I think we sometimes try to deny the truth of that. Our congregations do .have living traditions, a heritage that must be experienced and to some extent learned. We each have a unique identity; whether we have articulated that or not, that is our founding gift, and it is that which mediates the Gospel to the members of our institute. The for-mation process takes place according to this founding gift.4 The community at large is very important in this aspect of the process. The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults in number four states: "The initia-tion of catechumens takes place, step by step, in the midst of the com-munity of the faithful. Together with the catechumens, the faithful reflect upon the value of the Paschal Mystery, renew their own conversion, and by their example lead the catechumens to obey the Holy Spirit more gener-ously." Since the call to religious consecration is a call to the deepening of one's baptismal consecration, an analogy can be drawn between the pre-novitiate and the catechumenate, between the involvement of the faithful and the indispensable involvement of the religious community in which the candidates seek membership. Members of religious communities see in their initiates not only a renewal of their individual covenant relationship with the Lord, but also the hopeof the continued life of the congregation. Rejoicing in and affirming new members in their call is essential. It draws the candidates into a large~',.sense of belonging, gives them a sense of his-tory and furnishes them with many more individual touchstones of unique charism, as well as an experience of charism in the corporate sense. For those who are already part of the community at large there is not only the opportunity but the responsibility to participate in "handing on" the congregation's traditions, and of being a "welcoming presence." "Welcoming presence" says, "this is how we are." At times of celebra-tion, community prayer and working together, it is a presence that says, "This is the diversity of ways in which we express our common charism. For us, Sisters of Notre Dame, our charism includes a simplicity of life and an experience of the Father's provident care in our lives that is expressed in the phrase 'How good is the good God!'. These elements of our shared vision are concretized in a special family spirit, and in our efforts to min-ister to the poor, to bring hope to them through evangelization and catechesis. You are welcome to be with us and to bring your uniqueness to our vision." 350 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 Once again it is absolutely necessary, though, that the "welcoming" not become a welcome that demands immediate conformity. The com-munity must understand the "in-between" nature of pre-novitiate and the primacy during this time of confirming the choice of this particular lifestyle within the basic call to holiness. "Welcoming" also includes welcoming gifts and initiative. When I enter into a relationship with hnother, I invite the possibility of being changed by that encounter. I trust that the new vision that we come to share together is good and growth producing. This is true of the new members in community. "Candidate" is not necessarily equal to "'young" and "inexperienced." We need to remind ourselves of that at times, and let our welcome include the invitation to enter into our life in a meaningful and effective way. 'Practically, this means including our candidates in tl~6 significant events of our community: meetings, renewals, ;'futuring" ses-sions, preparations for chapter and the like. It means valuing their gifts and expertise, and accepting these when they are offered in service of the com-munity and of the Church. These men and women of today can help us in our struggle to find ways to incarnate our charism into our life and ministry and to meet the needs of our times in a realistic way~ There is a very healthy discomfort that we experience when we feel pulled in two directions, a discomfort that moves us to action, to choice. The tensions experienced by newcomers to religious life are opportunities for self-awareness, for growth and for authentic discernment of a lifetime commitment. Being aware that they exist, dealing with them in realistic ways and' soliciting the understanding and support of community members in helping candidates to live and grow with them can only be an invalu-able asset to any formation process. .~ . NOTES ~ Jean Vanier, Community and Growth: Our Pilgrimage Together (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 5 I. 2 Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 27. 3 Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Ltfe, n. 48. 4 lbid, n. 44. Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Well known to our readers, Father Arbuckle is the prime mover and designer of the summer workshop, sponsored Dy R~viEw Eon R~L~¢~OUS and St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, entitled: "Refounding Religious Life from Within: Strategies for Leadership." His previous article, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1987. Father Arbuckle's.permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box 1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Supra-nationalism is the ability and the willingness of individuals or groups to strive to id.entify with cultures and needs beyond the frontiers of their own country in ways that are both critical and non-exclusive. (Multiculturalism, on the other hand, is the same ability and willingness, but directed to other cultures within the boundaries of one's own country.) This identification with cultures, be it noted, is not blind or uncritical. The weaknesses, as well as the strengths, of cultures are recognized. Moreover, this identification is not exclusive. That is, supranationalists are open to still other cultures beyond those with which they are immediately con-cerned. Christ calls his followers to a basic supranationalism, They are them-selves to be reconciled with the Father through love, and they are to express this reconciliation in their relations with other peoples and cultures. With-out, this love of the Father, a gift of the Holy Spirit, the reconciling rela-tionship with those around us cannot be sustained. Selfishness and the desire for power over others will overcome us. Ultimately we are encour-aged in this struggle to be reconciled wi(h the Father and with one another 351 352 / Review for Religious, May~June, 1987 by the hope of the "new heavens arid a new earth" in the fullness of God's kingdom yet to come, "where; accordihg t6 his promise, the justice of God will reside" (2 P 3:13). " The world is fractured by ideological conflicts, pathoio~ical forms of nationalism and intercultural tensions. It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22), desperately in need of reconciliation across and within national frontiers. ~ Inasmuch as many religious orders are stamped with an interna-tional character, the Church rightly expects of them bold evangelical initiatives in response to today's critical need for supranationalism.2 But are religious orders responding to this challenge to provide lead-ership not just to the Church but also to the world itself?. Or have some congregations settled into a comfortable, introverted type of "ecclesiastical nationalism"? What conditions are necessary for religious congregations to express in spirit and action a much-needed supranationalism? This article is an attempt to respond to such questions. I will - show how prejudice obstructs sup.ranationalism; - explain the New Testament call to supranationalism; - reflect on how religious orders have in the past responded to the challenge of supranationalism; - construct two models which religious institutes can use to mea-sure their own response to the challenge of supranationalism; - reflect on the role of ongoing conversion as an essential require-ment for supranationalism. Excessive Nationalism: the Obstacle to Supranationalism Nationalism is a complex word to define. It expresses a form of group consciousness, that is, consciousness of membership in a nation. In this lim-ited sense, nationalism is good. It gives people a sense of meaning and iden-tity, a respect for their past, the energy to work together for the common good. When, however, people begin to believe that they are superior to other peoples and cultures, then nationalism becomes excessive. People become unable to look beyond (supra) their national borders to learn from the values and experiences of other cultures. At the heart of excessive nationalism is cultural prejudice. Prejudice is an "attitude towards a person who belongs to a group simply because he belongs to that group and is therefore presumed to have the qualities ascribed to that group." 3 In brief, prejudice involves a predisposition toward a group of people that is not derived from adequate information. There are two aspects to cultural prejudice to be noted. Firstly, there is the meaning aspect or stereotype. A stereotype is ,a preformed image or picture or judgment about people, whether favorable or unfavorable: "The Beyond Frontiers / 353 Irish are prone to excessive use of alcohol." "All Italians sing beau-tifully." The second aspect is the feeling dimension. The prejudiced person sees only what he or she wants to see, even to the point of seeing things that are not there at all. The causes of prejudice are complex and many: fear of people who are different, a desire to exploit, a need to bolster one's personal and cultural self-esteem .4 Culturally prejudiced people can show excessive nationalism in one of two major ways. Firstly, they can seek to impose on "decadent and imper-fect cultures" their own "perfect" values and customs, coming to treat subject people like children---or worse. Secondly, a particularly insidious form of cultural prejudice is cultural romanticism. The foreign culture with which the individual wishes to identify is considered "perfect," and his or her culture-of-origin is thought to be thoroughly decadent. Often the romantic will seek to freeze the new culture in time, thinking any change will undermine its "perfection." This type of romanticism is alive and well, especially among foreigners working in Third World countries. Romanticism is also apt to show itself in overidentifying with nation-alist movements in those cultures or nations. Here, would-be agenis for change sometimes lose all sense of objectivity; they fail to see the violence and tragic effects of their overinvolvement in nationalist movements. Some-times more nationalistic than the locals themselves, they become severely condemnatory of the values and customs of their own cultures-of-origin.5 It is not easy for a person to become truly supranationalist. Supranationalism can only result from the ongoing personal struggle for truth and for the desire to respond to this truth. First one must face the truth about oneself: we are all prejudiced in one way or another. Self-knowledge is always extremely difficult. It also happens to be highly inconvenient, because as a result of a better knowledge of myself and my prejudices, I may have to do something about it. Human beings are highly skilled in avoiding truths about themselves; we are accomplished fugitives from our-selves. If I have the courage to discover my cultural prejudices, I then need a strong motivation to put them aside. It is much easier and simpler to ignore my prejudices! Supranationalism and the New Testament The heart of the Christian .message is that God "has reconciled us to himself through Christ" (2 Co 5:18) and his peace, a peace that can never come from mere human action (Jn 15:27), that we struggle to share with our brothers and sisters no matter what culture or nation they belong to (Rm :354 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 12:18). This peace, the fruit of love in the Spirit, motivates us to respect cultural differences and the just aspirations of people; it shows itself in "patience, generosity., mildness" (Ga 5:22f). It includes an openness to learn how God has worked in the lives and cultures of other peoples. There will be no jealousy for their achievements nor will there be a boast-ing over the accomplishments of one's own nation or culture (ibid v. 26). There will be ~he courage to challenge people of different cultures to face obstacles, for example, personal and social sin, that hinder or prevent them from achieving reconciliation with God and with each other. Followers of Christ know that they can avoid excessive nationalism in its various forms only if they remain truly open to the .Transcendent, allowing it to influence their lives in each one's particular cultural situation, even as they await the fullness of justice and peace ~n the world to come. Not surprisingly, Jesus directly confronted the excessive nationalism of his day, urging his followers to be supranationalists. At the time of Christ, Jews looked on Samaritans as uncouth, stupid, heretical. And Samaritans had similar views of their Jewish neighbors. As Scripture com-mentator, J. McKenzie, points out: "There was no deeper break 6f human relations in the contemporary world than the feud of Jews and Samaritans, and the breadth and depth of J~sus' doctrine of love could demand no greater act of a Jew than to accept a Samaritan as a brother."6 Those who heard Jesus speak would have been left in no doubt about the meaning of what we now call the Good Samaritan incident. The Samaritan is manifestly a supranationalist! Jesus' listeners are stunned to heai- him say "Go, do likewise!" (Lk 10:37). In a second story, this time a personal event in Christ's life, Jesus is an "international traveler" and exemplifies his own supranationalism in his relations with the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4). Not only does the woman experience Christian politeness for the first time, but she is told that eternal salvation is open to her through the love of the Father. Of all the early followers of Christ, Paul stands out as the model of supranationalism in evangelization. He had been a thoroughly fanatical sup-porter of Jewish culture, a rabid nationa~list, but underwent a dramatic theological and attitudinal transformation once he began to preach the Gospel in Gentile cultures. In Paul's epistles we see depicted the attitudes that must govern the evangelizeras he or she relates to different cultures. Firstly, the evangelizer must identi.fy as far as possible with the cultures of people to be e.vangelized: "I became like a Jew to the Jews in order to win the Jews. To those bound by the law I became like one who is bound (although in Beyond Frontiers / 355 fact Iam not bound by it), that I might win those bound by the law . I have made myself all things to all men in order to save at least some of them" (1 Co 9:20, 22). Secondly, identification with the aspirations of peo-pies of different cultures should be critical (Ga 5:1-6). Thirdly, the Gospel message is to be preached in its fullness; our struggles for justice and peace in this world are but the seed and the beginning of the kingdom of God here below; it will find its completion at the end of time with the resurrection of the dead and the renewal of the whole of creation (Rm 8:1 1- 21).7 Religious Life: Internationalism and Supranationalism .~ On one occasion, while doing research in a Third World village, I over-heard villagers speaking about the "Backhome Man." Each time they used the expression there would be hoots of laughter. I discovered the man who delighted them was an evangelizer from another coun.try who began sentences with the expression "Back home . . ." so often that the people nicknamed him the "Backhome Man." The evangelizer had the gift of internationalism, that is, he was prepared to live in someone else's coun-try, b.ut apparently he was slow to learn anything from the host culture. He lacked the gift of supranationalism; he was willing to give (on his terms), but not to receive. Our "Backhome Man" sadly lived a stunted religious life as well. For the true religious dedicates himself or herself totally to God, the Supreme Love. In a new and special way the religious makes himself or herself entirely over to God, to serve and honor him in and through the Church.8 The religious should seek to be an exemplary disciple of the Lord, to be one with him in his mission to the world.,The object of his. mission is the person "whole and entire, body and soul,',9 involving what we call today integral salvation. Supranationalism (and mu!ticuituralism) opens the way to this concern, for it relates to the well-being of both body and soul of the peoples of this world in their concrete reality. For this reason, because of their radical commitment to the Lord and to his Church, religious must be in the forefront in fosteringthe virtues of human solidarity and interdependence. Two questions are~to be asked: have religious congregations in the past fostered supranationalism? How are they responding to this challenge today? I will take each question in turn. Religious Life and Supranationalism before Vatican II There is no doubt about the involvement of religious congregations in internationalism over the three hundred years prior to Vatican II. Religious, 356 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 very often from newly formed congregations, moved into recently discov-ered countries, frequently braving, atrocious physical conditions, in order to spread the faith.~ While many individual religious aspired to identify with the cultures of the people they were evangelizing, rarely was the work of religious congregations themselves marked by the spirit of supranationalism within those countries which we now call the Third World. At the risk of grave oversimplification I will explain briefly why it was difficult for religious to express supranationalism, in evangelization. ~0 From the fifteenth century onwards, a marked inflexibility in the Church's rela-tionship with cultures, especially beyond Europe, developed. This inflexibility affected the missionary policies of religious Congregations. Prior to this period, most especially in the early centuries,o.the Church often related to cultures in remarkably flexible ways. Pope Gregory the Great's directive to Augustine of Canterbury 'in the year 601 about not destroying the temples of the gods, and,the need to place the relics of the saints in those same temples is rather symbolic of the flexibility of the period. ~ This openness, however, was not to continue; The Church became more and more culturally "Euro-centric" in its expression of the faith. In more modern times, as European colonial expansion developed, it was this Euro-centric Church that was to accompany it. As one commentator put it: "The missionaries--true children of their times--shared the intolerant and prejudiced views of the conquistadores on the native cultures and religions.''~2 The European Ch~'ch was to be planted in the new lands with-out change. The cultures of the people being evangelized were seen as unim-portant; priority was given to the conversion and salvation of individual souls: Rarely did missionaries see the need to understand local cultures-- or even at times to learn the local languages.13 There were vigorous, but eventually unsuccessful, reactions against this arrogant ecclesiastical/colonial European nationalism. From the Con-gregation of the Propagation of the Faith in 1622 there came a very force-ful condemnation of cultural prejudice: What could be more absurd than to carry France, Spain, or lt~l~,, or any other part of Europe into China? It is not this sort of thing you are to bring but rather the Faith, which does not reject or damage any people's rites and customs provided' they are not depraved . Let customs that prove to be depraved be uprooted more by hints and by silence., gradually without jolting. 14 People like the Capuchin Father Jerom Meroila in the Congo in the sev-enteenth century ~eriously endeavored to follow this advice. ~5 Jesuits in par-ticular, notably de Nobili and Ricci, led the movement for accommoda- Beyond Frontiers / 357 tion and adaptation with a flexibility characteristic of the early Church. 16 Tragically, these efforts to revitalize supranationalism within the Church were crushed with the rejection of the work of Ricci and his companions in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In the late nineteenth century the revival of Thomistic Aristotelianism, which encouraged people to look for what is good and of God within cul-tures, sparked off a new movement that would many decades later lead to the return of the Churcl~'s early pastoral flexibility. Euro-centric prejudice in evangelizers was condemned. 17 At the same time there developed within the Church a vigorous support for the rights of all people in regard to their culture and national identity. ~8 But it would take a long time before the pas-toral implications of these emphases would be worked out. Many evangelizers yearned to revive the apostolic approach of people like Ricci, but multiple factors made it difficult for these dreams to be realized. Thus, for instance, as long as the theQlogy of the local church remained under-developed, it would be difficult to explore fully the pastoral implications of the relationship of evangelization to culture. Terms like "accommoda-tion" or "adaptation" became common in missiology. But theologically and pastorally they connoted not an exchange between the Gospel and cul-tures, but rather a process of.choosing what local value or custom could be used to express better the meaning of the faith. The local faithful, how-ever, were not to be involved in t.his process of choice. So, while the rhetoric favored flexibility, in practice the Church remained fundamentally Euro-centric in its evangelizing aims and methods. Understandably, religious life mirrored this ongoing European empha-sis. 19 This was evident in the rigidity with which Europ.ean forms and struc-tures of religious life were uncritically exposed and planted in other cul-tures. At times local vocations were not encouraged because it was thought the people were "just not ready and mature enough" to undertake the responsibilities of religious life. Moreover, the fact that Europe and America had what was thought to be an endless supply of missionary vocations removed.a good ideal of the urgency to discover what were the practical implications of the phrase "accommodating the faith to local cul-tures~" Religious congregations continued to become dramatically international, but rarely did they become supra-national. At times the internal structuring or method of governing missionary ven~ tures further reinforced the spirit and practice of the European colonialism. For example, some congregations favored the system of attaching mission-ary endeavors directly to particular provinces in Europe and America. Invari-ably, this meant that French missionaries were isolated in one part of a Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 "mission" land, Americans in another, and so on. Hence, a "little France" or a "little America" could exist in Third World countries, with no outside challenge to such assumptions of cultural superiority. In view of all these forces, therefore, it is not surprising that indigenous forms of religious life have rarely developed in the Third World; the mode.Is remain overwhelmingly First World in design.2° Reiigious Life and Supranationalism after Vatican II With Vatican II, and with subsequent reflection, religious life has been challenged to'its very roots by a revitalized theology of evangelization and of the local church. The relationship that should e~ist between the Gospel and cultures has been clarified. Evangelization is to be a "living exchange between the Church and the diverse cultures of people:''2t The Church, which ~s itself a culture, must be prepared, to chahge and develop new insights into how the Gospel is to be preached through a process of exchange and dialogue with the people being evangelized. This exchange process is what is now called inculturation. The expressions accommodation and adaptation do not quite convey this emphasis on exchange. Rather they imply that the Church gives to cul-tures, but does not receive. As historical expressions they were found to be dated; hence, the new word inculturation was developed in order to high-light the importance of exchange.2z Evangelization is not to be directed to the soul alone, but to the person--"whole and entire, body and soul.''23 "What mhtters," declares Paul VI, "is to evangelize man's culture and cultures [not 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].''z4 The search for justice in this world is not something secondary to evangelization, but it is a constituent part of the mission of the Church.25 However, as was pointed out above, the Gospel, and therefore evangelization, can never be exclusively identified with this or that culture, or with the pursuit of justice in this world alone. Evangelization must include the "prophetic proclamation of a hereafter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both continuity and discontinuity with the present sit-uation: beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world ¯ . . beyond man himself, whose true destiny is not restricted to his tem-poral aspect but will be revealed in the future life.''26 In brief, evangelization must call people to a life of evangelical supranationalism. These emphases have serious ramifications for the religious who is an evangelizer. The evangelizer's task is to facilitate the dialogue between cul-ture and the Gospel. The religious must prophetically call people to this dialogue first, by the witness of his or her evangelical example, and then, Beyond Frontiers / 359 by the preaching of the Word of God. The dialogue to be aimed at is not merely intellectual. Rather it must be a faith interaction in which people are invited to interior conversion. To quote Paul VI again: "The Church evangelizes when she seeks to convert, solely through ttie divine power of the Message she proclaims, both the personal and collective consciences of people, the activities in which they engage, and the lives and concrete milieus which are theirs."zv Conversion is not brought about through author-itarian dictation, nor is it achieved through various forms of cultural romanticism. The religious, who in his orher zeal for :social justice overidentifies with nationalism or the protest movements of people against oppression cannot prophetically proclaim that "man's profound and definitive calling . . . [is] beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world." Such a religious falls victim to the insidious power of cultural romanticism. Especially in parts of the Third World in which there is so much oppres-sion by the rich over the poor, massive injustices and corruption, the con-cerned religious is severely tempted to fall into a form of romanticism. Paulo Freire, the brilliant South American educator., has warned people to avoid the trap of romanticism. In order to remain objective and helpful to the oppressed, those who would be change-agents must, he says, undergo a profound rebirth. They must rise above the desire to overcome oppressors through the use of the same force that they used to subjugate the poor.28 The evangelizer, too, must at all times maintain the objectivity that is necessary to proclaim the fullness of the Gospel message with its power for salvation. St. Paul reminds us: "It was for liberty that Christ freed us. So stand firm, and do not take on.yourselves the yoke of slavery a second time" (Ga. 5:1). If the temptation in the past was for evangelizers to fall into the trap of Euro-centric cultural evangelization, then today's special temptation is to become slaves for "a second time" through cultural romanticism. Both forms of slavery obstruct our prophetic freedom. Religious specially should commit themselves to fulfill St. Paul's call for Christians to be ambassadors of reconciliation (2 Co 5:20). If religious overidentify with political parties, pressure groups or nationalist move-ments in the name for social justice, they jeopardize their prophetic role as reconcilers in Christ of all peoples--the oppressed and the oppressors. The chance to witness to the transcendent love of the Father for all is in danger. For example, if I as a religious join a political party, I become inevitably cut off in various ways from other sectors of society I seek to evangelize. I cease to be free to act credibly as an ambassador of reconcil-iation between all groups within that society. This fact helps to explain 360 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 John Paul II's insistence that politics should normally be left to lay people. In his address to priests in San Salvador (March 6, 1983) he said: "Remem-ber, my dear brothers, that--as I said to the priests and religious in Mexico~you~are hOtsocial directors, political leaders, or officials of a tem-poral power . " Religious are rather to foster among the laity a com-mitment to witness to the Gospel in the secular world as directors, leaders and officials. Though excessive nationalism is much less a temptation to evangelizers in the First World than in the Third, nonetheless these can still easily fall into other forms of cultural romanticism. For example, religious may become so involved in maintenance work in dioceses that they forget their prophetic and innovative role. Or, in their zeal to solve social problems, religious may turn to secular methods and values alone, ignoring or downgrading the supernational importance. We come to the second question: Are religious congregations respond-ing to the challenge given them by the Church today? Only through a process of discernment and reflection can each congre-gation. respond to this question. However, in order to aid this process I will offer two extreme polar models of religious congregations. These models can help religious to measure their own behavior and that of their institutes. It would be rare indeed if any particular congregation perfectly fitte~l either of ,the models described. Models in anthropological analysis are simple, abstract representations of human~' experience and interactions which are often highly complex in real life. Models are constructed~ to he!p under-standing, and to do so they emphasize major themes or characteristics and overlook details. It is up to the reader or researcher to modify, refine-~or even reject--models in light of his or her experience. Model 1: Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism ~ Anthropologists have discovered a type of society that is organized on the basis of segmentation.29 The society is divided up into segments for a variety of reasons, but these segments are not permanently divided, since they are united at other levels to form new and more inclusive segments when certain common needs require this. Total unity is very fragile and, like all levels of unity at any stage in the society, it disintegrates once the reason for the unity disappears. In brief, there are factors within the soci-ety that encourage people to form opposing groups, but there are counterbalancing factors that draw people in these groups together at other levels. Suspicion or potential/actual conflict or feuds divide the segments Beyond Frontiers / 361 Figure 1 Model I. Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism Factors Conducive to Internationalism/Supranationalism Constitutions/Mission Statements: -rhetoric favors supranationalism Commitment to supranationalism: -Weak in congregation Factors Conducive to Provincialism/Segmentation Commitment to provincial boundaries strong: Central Government: General Chapter: -symbol of unity; -rhetoric favors supranationalism General Government: -symbol of unity/internationalism -supplies bureaucratic needs, for example, dispensation --charism research Interprovincial-Regional Cooperation: -weak: last resort Apostolates: -in Third World for vocations/sur-vival. Formation: -international/interprovincial only in extreme need -inward looking vision -prophetic figures marginalized Provincial Government: -commitment to survival of prov-ince as the priority -suspicious of outside "interference," for example, General Government Apostolates: -Identification with diocesan main-tenance works -prophetic role weak -if clerical-religious, clericalism strong -weak involvement in multiculturalism Formation: -poor screening; concern for numbers -no training for multiculturalism/ supranationalism and are put aside only when common needs demand unity for survival. A feud can be defined as relations of mutual animosity among intimate groups in which a resort to violence is anticipated on both sides.3° The violence does not have to be physical; it can be verbal. Past injustices or misunderstandings are recalled to remind all concerned that the "out- 362 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 group" simply cannot be trusted to work with the "in-group." There may be an official leader in such a society, but the real power rests in the various segments, the lowest segment having the most power over its members. Oft-repeated rhetoric supportive of total unity is apt to so confuse the observer that it is thought that real unity exists, when, in fact, such is far from being the case. In Model ! of religious congregations that I am proposing the empha-sis is on internationalism, with a faint acceptance of supranationalism. A congregation of this type has the characteristics of the segmentary society or culture just described. In Figure 1, the major qualities of a segmentary congregation have been summarized. The official rhetoric is often power-fully supranationalist, as in general chapter documents or mission state-ments, but the ~-eality just as strongly contradicts this rhetoric. Internationalism exists inasmuch as some members live and work in for-eign lands, such as missionaries and general administrators. There may be a growing interest in the Third World countries inspired by the congrega-tion's rhetoric about the call to be at the service of the poor, but the really operative force would be the desire for vocations to keep the provinces and the congregation alive. The emphasis of recruitment is on numbers, not on the quality of the screening methods or the formation given. The formation remains culturally Euro-centric and paternal; the local cultures and their needs are ignored. Inculturation simply does not exist. Loyalty in the congregation imagined in this model is first and fore-most to the province to which one belongs, not to the congregation or its spirit.Whoever encourages congregational supranationalism would be thought a "traitor" to the province.3~ Cooperation exists between the prov-inces and with the general administration only when it is absolutely nec-essary- and even then fo~: the advantage primarily of the province. The gen-eral administration, for example, would be able to staff congregation-wide projects only through a process of bargaining, not dialogue. A province is prepared to release difficult personnel for such work, but not talented mem-bers, for the province's first obligation is to its own survival. "Talented people simply should not be released for work outside the province" is the overriding assumption. At international meetings of the congregation, pro-vinces look first to their own rights and their interests, not to those of the congregation. Suspicion and feud-like behavior colors the province's rela. tions with the general administration and with other provinces. Stories of past interference and misunderstandings on the part of general officers are gleefully recounted in order to maintain in the province a distrust of "out. siders." Beyond Frontiers" Apostolically, provinces in this model are strong supporters of main-tenance rather than of mission within the dioceses in which they work. A province takes its bearings all too exclusively from the internal ecclesiastical and socioeconomic structure of the countries where its apostolates are situated.32 There is little or no prophetic challenging of dioceses or diocesan administrations. Consequently, there is little room for other issues such as justice or multiculturalism/supranationalism. Individ-uals wh0do show interest are thought to be "somewhat odd," or follow-ing a "hobby," or just "wasting time." On the other hand, where involve-ment in the social apostolate is encouraged, its relationship with the Transcendent may be deliberately played down "lest one's identification with the Gospel hinder one's identification with those who struggle for social justice." In this model clericalism would be a dominant force in clerical insti-tutes. (Clericalism connotes "an authoritarian style of ministerial leader-ship, a rigidly hierarchical world view, and a virtual identification of the holiness and grace of the Church with the clerical state and, thereby, with the cleric himself.''33) Consequently, within community there would be little fraternity with lay members of the congregation who would be looked down upon as inferior and as "servants of the priests." Lay involvement in apostolic works of the congregation would be poorly encouraged. On the other hand, religious who might act against clericalism would overidentify with worldly values and with the customs of the ambient cul-ture on the pretext that this will "bring us closer to the people we are evangelizing." As regards the screening and formation of candidates, the approach in such a congregation would be colored by all the above characteristics. Can-didates would be encouraged to join the province if they are seen to have the qualities that would "fit them in" to the overriding inward-looking, weakly prophetic ethos of the province. Candidates would be jealously iso-lated from contact with those from other provinces lest they develop "dan-gerous ideas," supranationalism, or the feeling of belonging to a "con-gregation wider than the province." Formators of other provinces could not be trusted to direct the formation of candidates because they might decide that the latter have "no vocation to religious life." Hence, interprovincial and international formation programs would be severely discouraged. Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism In Figure 2, I set out emphases that are seen in congregations which approximate the second model, Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism. 364 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 The members of such a religious congregation commit themselves primar-ily to the mission of Christ and the Church according to the insights of the founding figure. Administrative structures such as provinces exist to facil-itate the response of the congregation itself to the mission of Christ. The spiritual and human welfare of members of the congregation is considered of paramount imporiance. The congregation's administrators are alive to the ctiallenge given them by Paul VI that they take up the "double task of inspiring and innovating in order to make structures evolve, so as to adapt them to the real needs" of mission and personnel.34'Provinces relate to one another and to the general administration on the basis of their common mission and according to subsidiar{ty, dialogue and discernment. Apostolates are selected according to definite objective criteria: the pri-ority of needs in the universal Church and local churches, the mission of the Church, the charism of the congregation and the resources available. The congregation hesitates to accept parishes unless there is scope for mis-sionary and creative pastoral action. No matter what apostolate is selected, members of~ the congregation will attitudinally be influenced in all they do by the need to call the People of God to multiculturalism/supranationalism. Given the priority of needs internationally today, congregations may strive, where possib!e, to witness to supranationalism by establishing international teams. For these teams to be effective they need to fulfill various require-ments. Firstly, those selected must be capable of living internationally according to the principles of supranationalism. Not everyone has the abil-ity to live and work on an international team; there can be heavy d6mands on the psychological and spiritual resources of individuals as they are called to face up to the requirements of constant adaptation to new cultural con-ditions. Secondly, members of teams must be given the chance for adequate preparation spiritually and humanly in order that they can fit into challeng-ing international and intercultural situations. This means not only the acquisi-tion of linguistic skills, but also an awareness of key anthropological insights into the nature and power of culture, culture change, the role of catalysts in culture change, and so forth. In their training programs mem-bers will need to have adequate periods of living in cultures very different from their own. They will need to experience the shock of being "at sea" in a culture that is unfamiliar to them; they will need to discover for them-selves the richness of being humble and dependent on other people whose culture they do not know or understand. Their own cultural biases and preju-dices must be challenged, otherwise an insidious ethnocentrism will govern their relations with other team members and the peoplethey hope to serve Beyond Frontiers / 365 Figure 2 Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism Loyalty: primarily to the Congregation which is at the service of the mission of Christ and Church. Apostolates: based on -priority of needs in universal Church (internationalism/supranationalism) and local churches (multiculturalism). -charism of congregation -available resources Administration: -at service of mission -provinces and general administration relate on basis of common mission/subsidiarity/ dialogue-discernment Formation: Initial: On _going. -based on mission/charism -emphasis on union with Christ for cre-ative response to demands of change. -training for internationalism/ multiculturalism/supr-anationalism -revitalization of commitment to: -Christ -Congregation -creativity/adapability in change pastorally. Thirdly, in the structuring of an international team, as far as is possi-ble no one culture should predominate. If one cultural group does predom-inate, it is likely to over-influence attitudes and policies of the group.35 If a culturally balanced team is not possible, the predominant cultural group must be especially sensitive to avoid obstructing the emergence of 366 / Review for Religious, May-~June, 1987 supranationalism in the team. From history, such international teams as I have described are apt to foster vigorous creativity pastorally and in religious life. As Raymond Hostie notes: Basic to all institutions that became remarkable for their explosive expan-sion is an initial heterogeneous core. Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits and Piarists, all emerged from groups whose members belonged to three nationalities, or even four or five. The initial group of Franciscans, CamillianS, Brothers of the Christian Schools and the Salesians was composed of men of very disparate social rank and cultural level. Heterogeneity is a necessary condition for activating effective fermentation.36 Initial formation in Model 2 is dictated by the demands of mission and the charism of the congregation. Hence, the programs are structured to foster in candidates a spirit of adaptability to constant change.37 Spiritual formation will be aimed at uncovering within candidates their own inner poverty and their ongoing need of strength from Christ: "He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eter-nal life" (Jn 12:25). The process of initial formation is a delicate one requir-ing skilled people to accompany candidates through the journey of self-discovery. Though the formation program is spread over several years and may well involve experiences in different cultural situations, there will be formators to whom candidates are clearly accountabl~. In Model 2, forma-tion is not a haphazard arrangement. As with initial formation, the ongoing formation programs are structured on the basis of the needs of mission. Religious need oppor-tunities to revitalize their commitment to Christ and to their congregational charism. They need space to reflect on whether or not their commitment to multiculturalism/supranationalism is rhetoric or reality. Over time, reli-gious may have uncritically absorbed negative values from the culture in which they work; little by little their supranationalism and pastoral creativ-ity may have been undermined. In this model it is assumed that adminis-trative structures are so flexible that superiors are able to spot quickly the individual needs of evangelizers and offer appropriate assistance. This ser-vice to evangelizers is part of a much wider task of administrations, namely, the ongoing need to foster evaluation of the apostolic relevance and effectiveness of the teams. In this model apostolates aie hot permitted~ to drift without goals and without effective evaluations. Conversion to Supranationalism In J.R. Toikien's The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again, Bilbo Beyond Frontiers / 367 Baggins initially turns down an invitation to go on a journey. He is too com-f0rtable in his way of life to be bothered with the trials of an adventure. He finally accepts the challenge and even begins to enjoy it. The cultures and the people he meets both disturb and intrigue him. But he soon tires of the constant need to adapt to new challenges, so he turns for home and retreats from the world of adventure singing:."Feet that wandering have gone, Turn at last'to home afar. Eyes . . . Look at last on meadows green.-38 Most of us can identify with Bilbo. We commit ourselves to multiculturalism/supranationalism, that is to the preaching of God's love across the frontiers of cultures. Yet we are tempted at times to weaken our efforts, to seek the security of our own cultures and our prejudices. Inevitably we will give way to these temptations, thus losing our apostolic effectiveness, if we seek to rely on merely human motivation. There is needed that inner, ongoing conversion that comes~from being a new creation in Christ (2 Co 5:17). Only in the ongo.ing response.to this new life will we have the inner resources to become "all things to all men" (1 Co 9:22). The divine love within us gives us the evangelical muscle to keep struggling to be open to other p~oples "~nd their cultures: "Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not l~ut on airs, it is not snobbish . There is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure" (! Co 13:4,6). St. Paul uses the analogy of a runner when he explains the process of ongoing conversion. To stop runn.ing for the Lord is to fall back into purely human insights and comforts (1 Co 9:24-27). Constant discipline 6f the whole person is required: "Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things: . . . What I do is discipline my own body and master it; for fear that after having preached to others I myself ~.hould be rejected" (ibid). The discipline of conversion also involves the Struggle .to identify one's own cultural prejudices, and the battle to remove them. It is a never-ending struggle and battle! I recall a fine evangelizer working outside his culture-of-origin commenting: '~I th6.ught for years I was not prejudiced. I believedI deeply loved these people. One day ! discovered that I was highly prejudiced and this shocked me intense]y. I could get no good ser-vice in the local shops, the car was slow to be fixed, letters were not reach-ing me fast enough, the food tasted horrible! I found myself complaining aloud about the people, and I used all the stereotypes about them that I had thought I had long rejected: 'These silly people--they are lazy, deceitful. If only I was back home where things are really done rightly!' " This evangelizer is an honest person. He courageously recognized' his prejudices as grave obstacles to his supranational work of evangelization, and courageously struggled to remove them. He understands that self- 361~ /Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 discipline must be ongoing. When Yahweh called Abraham, he summoned him to leave the warmth of his familiar surroundings to begin a life's journey: "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). R(ligious are to live out the same kind of call in a' spirit of faith. Bilbo, when he started out on his journey, sang "The world is ahead and home behind," but finally rejoiced when he could sing "The world is behind and home ahead." For we religious, unlike Bilbo, the ~hailenges of the world ahead are always with us; we can never say that we run out6f apostoli.c challenges or adventures. And our home is also ahead of u~. We await in hope for the ne, w Jerusalerrl (Ga 4:26). We can resist making this world our substitute Jerusalem only if we have Abraham's spirit of detachment and faith. Detachment comes from discov-ering in oneself one's own chaotic powerlessness to be supranationalist with-oiat the love and power of Christ. If we recognize our own inner helplessness, then we can say with'St. Paul: "And' so I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me . . . for when I am powerless, it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:9f.). Summary With St. Paul we say: "I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line" (1 Co 9:26). The ultimate finish line, in which there will be perfect justice and love, is to.be found when "the new heavens and the new earth" emerge at the end of time (2 P 3: I'3). In this waiting time we strive in faith to express this justice and love towards different peoples and cultures: "There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female. All, are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Religious esl~ecially commit themselves to this vision and its realiza-tion. In their lives and preachiflg they call people to look beyond this or that pressure group, political party, cultural group, tO the needs and insights of other people and cultures.39 At the same time they challenge people to avoid an unrealistic and ~i'~ous search for ~ perfect world here below, "for the world as we know it° is passing away" (I Co 7:31). Religious,. when confronted by the enormity of evil around them will be tempted to discouragement, skepticism or even the recklessness of despair. They will bc tempted to retreat into the security of their cultural prejudices and feel-ings of superiority. Recourse to merely human power, even violence, in order to achieve human justice may look very attractive. However, the moment a religious gives way to these temptations, he or she ceases to be apostolically supranationalist --indeed, apostolically effective. Beyond Frontiers I 369 NOTES ~ See John Paul II, Redemptor Hominis, 1979, par. 8. z See On Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, Congregations for Religious and Bishops, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 3 G. AIIport, The Nature of Prejudice (New York: Doubleday, 1958), p. 8. 4 See also D.L. Shields, Growing Beyond Prejudices (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986), pp. 149-176. 5 At times anthropologists, too, are guilty of romanticism. See G.E. Marcus and M.M. Fischer, Anthropology as Cultural Critique: An Experimental Moment in the Human Sciences (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1986), passim. 6 Dictionary of the Bible (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1986), p. 766. 7 See Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith, "Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation" in L'Osservatore Romano, 14 April, 1986, p. 5, par. 58. 8 See Lumen Gentium, par. 3. 9 Gaudium et Spes, par. 3. ~0 See G.A. Arbuckle, "lnculturation and Evangelization: Realism or Romanticism" in D.L. Whiteman (ed.), Missionaries, Anthropologists and Cultural Change (Williamsburg: Studies in Third World Societies, 1985), pp. 171-207. ~ See "Gregory's Counsel to Mellitus with Regard to the Heathen Temples in England" in A.J. Mason (ed.), The Mission of St. Augustine to England (Cambridge: CUP, 1879), pp. 89ff. t2 G. Voss, "Missionary Accommodation" in Missionary Academic Study No. 2 (New York: P. Faith, 1946), p. 17. ~3 See P. Duignan, "Early Jesuit Missionaries: A Suggestion for Further Study," in American Anthropologist, Vol. 6, pp. 725ff. 14 See S. Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, "Instructio ad Vicariorum Apostolicorum ad Regna Synarum Tonchini et Cocinnae Proficiscentium," in Collectanea Sacrae Congregationis de P. Fide (Rome, 1907), Vol. I, p. 42. ~5 See M.D. Jeffreys, "Some Rules of Directed Culture Change under Roman Catho-licism" in American Anthropologist, Vol. 58, 1956, pp. 723f. ~6 See C.W. Allan, Jesuits at the Court of Peking (Arlington: University Publications of America, 1975), passim; and P. Duignan, op. cit., pp; 726ff. t7 See Pius XII, "Princeps Pastorum" in (ed.)R. Hickey, Modern Missionary Doc-uments and Africa (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1982), p. 143. ~8 See Pius XII, AIIocution 6 Dec. 1953, in Acta

Issue 32.5 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review Jot Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1973 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1973 Volume 32 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Documents on the Holy Year Paul VI Given here are five documents in chronological order concerning the Holy Year. The English text is that given in the English language weekly edition of Osservatore romatzo. OUR LADY AND THE HOLY YEAR (MAY 30, 1973) You know about the Holy Year. It begins in the local Churches on the forthcoming feast of Pentecost. It aims at being a period of spiri[ual and moral renewal, and at finding its characteristic expression in reconciliation, that is, in the recomposition of order, of which Christ is the principle, in the depths of the consciences of individual souls, the order of every man with God, the order of every human relationship in the harmony of com-munity sentiments, in justice, concord, charity, peace. Prophetic Moment The Holy Year should be a kind of prophetic moment, Messianic awakening, Christian maturity of civilization, which sometimes had its ideal intuition in the poetry of the world, even secular poetry. What does the ancient and well-known prophecy of Virgil say, for example?--you young people, fresh from school, will remember it: "Magnus ab integro saeculorum nascitur ordo" (Buc. IV); his wa~ alyrical inspiration; ours would like to be one of those conscious and ~ollective efforts which produce, in the Church and in the world, a step upwa(ds, a sign of Christian progress, a break through on the plane of humanity imbued with the life-bringing Spirit of the kingdom of God. Is ours a dream? An ideal, certainly, but it must not be an empty, unreal one. Difficult, certainly; and for us, men of little faith, a demand that is beyond our strength. To renew the spiritual and moral energies of the Church, and consequently, or concurrently, those of our society, is a" 961 962 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 courageous aspiration, which makes tangible to us, if nothing else, the necessity of a superior, extrinsic assistance, but near to us, accessible to us, a compassionate, affectionate assistance already marked out in a general plan of goodness and mercy. Such a plan that must needs exist, if it is true, as it is true, that mankind is called, freely but surely, to a destiny of salvation. What assistance? What can be the help that enables us to dare, to hope for the aims of the Holy Year? Who can obtain for us the marvelous result which, following the logical demands of the Council, we have proposed? Humble, Glorious Queen It is the Blessed Virgin, beloved sons, Holy Mary, the Mother of Christ the Savior, the Mother of the Church, our humble and glorious Queen. Here there opens in front of us a great theological panorama, char-acteristic of Catholic doctrine, in which we see how the divine plan of salvation, offered to the world by the one mediator between God and men, efficacious by His own power, Christ Jesus (see 1 Tim 2: 5; Heb 12:24), is carried out with human cooperation, marvelously associated with the divine work (see H. de Lubac, M~d. sur l'Egl., pp. 241 ft.). And what human cooperation has been chosen in the history of our Christian destinies, first in function, dignity and efficiency, not purely instrumental and physical, but as a predestined, though free and perfectly docile factor, if not that of Mary? (see Lumen gentium, 56). Here there is no end to what could be said about the Blessed Virgin; for us, after firmly grasping the doctrine that places her at the center of the redeeming plan, first and, in a certain sense, indispensable beside Christ our Savior, it will be enough to recall and affirm how the renewing outcome of the Holy Year will depend on the superlative assistance of the Blessed Virgin. We need her help, her intercession. We must put on our program a particular cult for the Virgin Mary, if we wish the historico-spiritual event for which we are preparing to reach its real purposes. Need of Marian Cult Now we will merely condense in a twofold recommendation the advantage of this Marian cult to which we entrust so many of our hopes. The first recommendation is a fundamental one: we must. know the Madonna better as the authentic and ideal model of redeemed humanity. Let us study this limpid creature, this Eve without sin, this daughter'of God, in whose innocent, stupendous perfection, the creative, original, intact thought of God is mirrored. Mary is human beauty, not only aesthetic, but essential, ontological, in synthesis with divine Love, with goodness and humility, with the spirituality and the clear-sightedness of the "Magnificat," She is the Virgin, the Mother in the purest and most genuine sense; shb is the Woman clothed with the sun (see Apoc 12:1 ), in beholding whom our Documents on" the Holy Year / 963 eyes must be dazzled, so often offended and blinded as they are by the profaned and profaning images of the pagan and licentious environment by which we are surrounded and almost attacked. Our Lady is the sublime "type" not only of the creature redeemed by Christ's merits, but also the "type" of humanity on its pilgrim way in faith. She is the figure of the Chur(h, as St. Ambrose calls her (In Lc. II, 7; P.L. 15, 1555); and St. Augustine presents her to catechumens: "Figuram in se sanctae Ecclesiae demonstrat" (De Symb. 1, P.L. 40, 661). If we have our eyes fixed on Mary, the blessed, we will be able to reconstitute in ourselves the line and the structure of the renewed Church. Pray to Mary And the second recommendation is ~ao less important: we must have confidence in. recourse to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. We must pray to her, invoke her. She is admirable in herself, she is lovable to us. As in the Gospel (see Jn 2:3 ff.), she intervenes with her divine Son, and obtains from Him miracles that the ordinary :course of events would not admit. She is kind, she is powerful. She knows human needs and sorrows~ We must renew our devotion to the Blessed Virgin (see Lumen gentium, 67), if we wish to obtain the Holy Spirit and be sincere followers of Christ Jesus. May her faith (Lk 1:45) lead us to the reality of the gospel and help us to celebrate properly the coming Holy Year. With our Apostolic Blessing. LETTER TO HOLY YEAR COMMITTEE (MAY 31, 1973) To His Eminence Cardinal Maximilien de Furstenberg President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year Lord Cardinal, As the official beginning of that vast movement of spiritual renewal, which will have its climax in Rome in 1975, .is on Sunday 10 June, the solemnity of Pentecost, we wish to set forth briefly to you, Lord Cardinal, whom we have made the head of the Central Committee for the Holy Year what are the aims we have in mind with this initiative, what spirit we would like to see prevail in those who respond to our invitation, and what fruits we hope can be gathered with the grace of the Holy Spirit in whose name and in whose, light we are now setting out. As we declared from our very first announcement, on 9 May last [see the text in Review ]or Religious, 1973, pp. 728-30] with the Jubilee we propose the renewal of man b.nd his reconciliation with God, which take place above all in depth, in the interior sanctuary, where conscience is called to bring about its conversibn, or "metanoia," by means of faith and repentance (see Mk 1 : 15 ), and to aim at the fullness of charity. 964 / Review Ior. Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 God Himself,. infinitely merciful, after redeeming the world by means of Jesus Christ His Son, calls all men, none excluded, to pa.rticip.ate in the fruits of redemption (see 1 Tim 2:4) and intervenes with His Holy Spirit to operate salvation in them (see Rom 8:10 ft.). Strengthening the Bonds of Faith and Charity The Church is convinced that only from this interior operation can be derived also the reconciliation between men, as the social dimension embrace all sectors and levels of life, in relations between individuals, families, groups, categories, nations; to become, as far as is possible for man's frailty and the imperfection of earthly institutions, a ferment of peace and universal unity. She undertakes, therefore, to bring it about that the force of the redemp-tion wrought by Christ should strengthen in the faithful, in dioceses, in parishes, in religious communities and in other centers of Christian life and apostolate, as well as in the Churches separated from us up to now, the bonds of faith and charity in the Blood of Christ (see Col 1:20). The Pentecost of grace will thus be able to become also the Pentecost of the new brotherhood. This is the spirit we hope to see flourish in the whole celebration of the Holy Year. Therefore we trust that the value of penitential practices will be redis-covered, as a sign and way of grace, as a commitment for the deep renewal which receives its full efficacy in the sacrament of penance, to be used and administered according to the provisions of the Church, for resumption by the individual and the community of progress along the way of salvation (see Acts 16:17). It seems to us that the expression, the occasion, and, as it were, the synthesis of these practices, which will have their completion in the celebra-tion of the Holy Eucharist, can be the pilgrimage which in the authentic tradition of Christian ascetism has always been 'carried out for reasons of piety and expiation. Today, too, it can be inspired by these motives, both when it takes place in forms more similar to those of the ancient pilgrims to Rome, and when it uses the modern means of communication. Need for Charity It is necessary, however, that the pilgrimage should be accompanied not only by prayer and penance but also by the exercise of brotherly charity, which is a clear demonstration of love of God (see 1 Jn 4:20,21; 3:14), and must be expressed, by the individual faithful, their associations, and ecclesial communities and institutions, in spiritual and corporal works of mercy in favor of needier brothers. Thus the Holy Year qcill really widen the scope of the Church's charity and will portend a renewal and reconcilia-tion of universal dimensions. For these aims to be achieved more easily, let us express the wish that Documents on the Holy Year / 965 the practice of the pilgrimage will be carried out in all the local churches, in cathedrals and sanctuaries, diocesan and national, as intermediate stages converging at last, in 1975, in Rome, the visible center of the universal Church. Here the representatives of the local churches will conclude the way of renewal and reconciliation, venerate the tombs of the Apostles, renew their adhesion to the Church of Peter, and we, God willing, will have the joy of receiving them with open arms and together with them we will bear witness of the unity of the Church in faith and charity. It is our ardent desire that in this march towards the "sources of salva-tion" (see Is 12:3) our sons fully united to the Church of Peter will be joined, in the forms possible for them, also by the other followers of Christ and all those who, along different and apparently distant ways, are seeking the one God with upright conscience .and goodwill (see Acts 17:27). The concrete programs of the pilgrimage and other practices aimed at fostering renewal and reconciliation will certainly be indicated by the Episcopal Conferences for the local churches, taking into account both the outlook and customs of the places, and the real purposes of the Holy Year which we have just outlined. On our side we ask pilgrims, after having prayed according to our inten-tions and to those of the whole episcopal college, to take part, locally, in. a solemn community function, or to make a stop to reflect before the Lord, ending it with the recitation or singing of the Our Father and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgin. Gift of Indulgence As if in response to these simple and sincere manifestations by means of which the faithful, in the local churches, will carry out a real conversion and profess that they wish to remain and become stronger in charity towards God and towards their brothers, we, as the humble minister of Christ the Redeemer, will grant, in the due forms, the gift of the Indulgence. Also those sons of ours who, not being able to take part in the pilgrimage because they are prevented by illness or some other serious cause, join in it spir-itually with the offering of their prayers and their suffering, will benefit from this gift. With the Holy Year the Church, exercising the "ministry of reconcilia-tion" (see 2 Cor 5:18), offers privileged opportunities, ~pecial appeals so that all those reached by her word and, even more, as is our wish and our most ardent prayer, by the inner and ineffable touch of grace, may partic-ipate in Christian joy, the fruit of the salvific virtues of the Redeemer. To Refine Spirits We conclude this letter with the expression of the hopes we place in the celebration of the coming Holy Year. They are, we repeat, renewal and reconciliation as interior facts and as implementations of unity, brotherhood, 966 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and peace, radiating from spirits renewed and reconciled in Christ, throughout the whole Church, and towards the whole human society, on the ways of charity, the fruit of which is justice, goodness, mutual forgive-ness, the gift of oneself and of one's property for one's brothers. In a word we hope and trust that a renewed Christian sense of life will refine spirits and spread abundantly in the world, for common salvation. This, Lord Cardinal, is what we wished to let you know on this eve of an important period of the history of the Church in our days, which will be symbolized, when the time comes, by the opening of the Holy Door. We beg you to communicate it to our Brothers in the Episcopate, while we bless you and all those whom our appeal reaches with the most ample outpouring of our heart, the heart of a father and of the humble servant of the servants of God. From the Vatican Apostolic Palace, 31 May 1973, Feast of the Ascen-sion of Our Lord, the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI RENEWAL AND RECONCILIATION (JUNE 6, 1973) As you know, Sunday next, 10 June, is the feast of Pentecost, the feast that commemorates and aims at renewing the descent of the Holy Spirit, the animator, sanctifier, unifier of the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ. And as you likewise know, this forthcoming solemnity will mark the beginning, in the local churches, that is, in the ecclesial communities each presided over by its own bishop, of that religious event, or rather that spiritual movement which we call "Holy Year," followed by the celebration prol~r in. the third quarter of our century, in 1975. You will hear more about it again, a great deal, everywhere. Prepare to understand it, to live it, and specifically in its general purposes. They are a renewal of Christian life such as is demanded and must be possible in the deep and stormy process of the metamorphosis of our times, and a reconciliation of minds and things at which we think we must aim if. we wish to reconstitute in us and outside us that superior order, that "kingdom of God," on which the present and future destinies of humanity depend. Renewal and reconcilia-tion: it seems to us that these must be the logical and general consequences, in the history of the Church and of mankind, of the Council, springing like a river of salvation and civilization from its generating source. Why from Pentecost? Why does this fact start from Pentecost? Not only because this beautiful feast, which we can define as the historical birth of the Church, offers a p~'opitious, inspiring,occasion, but above all because we hope, we beseech, that the Holy Spirit, whose mysterious and ,sensible mission we celebrate at Pentecost, will be the principal Operator of the fruits desired from the Documents on the Holy Year / 967' Holy Year. This, too, will be one of the most important and fruitful themes of spirituality proper to the Holy Year: the Christology and particularly the Ecclesiology of the Council must be succeeded by a new study and a new cult of the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the Council. Let us hope that the Lord will help us to be dis-ciples and teachers of this successive school of his: Jesus, leaving the visible scene of this world, left two factors to carry out his work of salvation in the world: his Apostles and his Spirit (see Congar, Esquisses du mystOre de l'Eglise, p. 129 ft.). We do not wish to enter this magnificent theological field now. For the elementary purposes of this brief preparatory sermon it is enough for us to point out, in the first place, that the action of the Spirit, in the ordinary economy of the divine plan, is carried out in our spirits in respect for our freedom, in fact, with our very cooperation, if only as the condition of divine action in us. We must at least open the window to the entrance of the breath and the light of the Spirit. Let us say a word about this opening, this availability of ours to the mysterious action of the Spirit. Let us ask ourselves what the psychological and moral states of our souls must be, in order that they may receive the "dulcis Hospes animae." This would be enough to weave interminable treatises of spiritual, ascetic, and mystical life. Let us now reduce these states to two only, at least for the sake of being easily remembered, making them correspond to the field preferred by the action of the Paraclete, that is, the Holy Spirit who becomes our assistant, consoler, advocate. Man's Consent'Required The first field is man's "heart." It is true that the. action of grace may leave out of °consideration the subjective correspondence of the one who receives it (a child, for example, a sick person, a dying man), but normally man's .conscience must be in a state of consent, at least immediately after the impulse of the supernatural action of grace. The Holy Spirit has his favorite cell in the human being, the heart (see Rom 5:5). It would take too long to explain what the word "heart" means in Biblical language. Let us be content now to describe the heart as the intimate center, free, deep, personal, of our spiritual life. Anyone who does not have a spiritual life of his own lacks the ordinary capacity to receive .the Holy Spirit, to listen to His soft, sweet voice,, to experience His inspirations, to enjoy His charisms. The diagnosis of modern man leads us to see in him an extroverted being who lives a great deal outside himself and little in himself, like an instrument that is more receptive to the language of the senses and less to that of thought and conscience. The practical conclusion at once exhorts us to praise of silence, not of unconscious, idle, and mute silence, but the silence that subdues noises and exterior clamor and which is able to listen: to listen in depth to the voices, the sincere voices, of conscience 968 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and to those springing up in the concentration of prayer, to the ineffable voices of contemplation. This is the first field of action of the Holy Spirit. It will be well for us to remember it. Flight trom True Communion ot Ecclesiai Charity And what is the other? The other is "communio," that is, the society of brothers united by faith and charity.in 9ne divine-human organism, the mystical Body of Christ. It is the Church. It is adherence to that mystical Body, animated by the Holy Spirit, who has, in the community of the faithful, hierarchically united, authentically assembled in the name and the authority of the Apostles, his Pentecostal upper room. So we might well consider whether certain ways of seeking the Spirit which prefer to isolate themselves in order to escape both from the directive ministry of the Church and from the impersonal crowd of unknown brethren are on the right path. What Spirit could a selfish communion meet, one that arises from a flight from the true communion of ecclesial charity? What experiences, what charisms could make up for the absence of unity, the supreme encounter with God? And so the program of the Holy Year, inauguated on the feast of the Holy Spirit, is at once placed on the right way: both the way of spiritual life, where He, the Gift of Love, inhabits and awakens and forms and sanctifies our individual personality; and the way of the society of the "saints," that is, the Church of the faithful where salvation is a continual rejoicing for everyone. May our Apostolic Blessing, Sons and Brothers, direct you and follow you along the right way. PROGRESS IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE (JUNE 13, 1973) ¯ The announcement about the anticipated beginning of the Jubilee celebra-tions which will have their climax in 1975, which you have all certainly heard of, re-echoing in all the dioceses, in the local churches, jolts our conscience in some way, in its religious and moral sensibility, and confronts it with a question ever recurring on the lips of the Church: How is your spiritual life progressing? In a word, this announcement enters the inner recesses of our personality, obliging it to reflect, to examine our conscience on some of its expressions which, like it or not, we all judge fundamental in the very definition of our personality; that is, we feel obliged to answer questions such as the following: Am I one who really believes in religion? Do I profess it, practice it, and how? Do I perceive the relationship between adherence to my religious "creed" and the ideal and practical direction of nay life? Do I perceive the connection between religious life and moral life? If we understand this critical necessity, one of the aims of the Holy Year is already attained: it appears to us first and foremost as one of the pedagogical means with which the Church educates and guides herself---a Documents on the Holy Year / 969 "shock," as is said today, by means of which she aims at a goal considered important and claiming particular interest. Religious Purpose of the Holy Year So it is. For ~he present let us dwell on the first purpose which is cer-tainly in the intention of the Church in promoting the Holy Year: the religious purpose. ¯ We could raise an easy objection, namely, is it necessary to commit the Catholic world and, indirectly at least, also the secular world, to the religious issue? Is there not a continuous and normal effort of the Church already in progress in favor of religion? Did not the Council suffice to reaffirm religion's right of presence in our times? And does not the Church exhort us every day, every Sunday, every feast, to celebrate some religious mystery? What more is wanted? The answer is not a difficult one. Religion is a thing that, in itself, can never be satisfied with its understanding, its profession, its discovery. It puts man in contact with such riches of truth and life that it does indeed quench all our thirst, but does not extinguish it: ions vincit sitientem; on the contrary it stimulates it for other conquests. Furthermore it happens, and this is what concerns us more here, that our attitude towards the goods of the spirit is not constant; we are changeable, we are fragile. It is this phen-omenon of the decadence of religious life, always possible on the part of man, that demands, historically, new interventions on each occasion, more suitable and more effective ones, so that human faithfulness may not be exhausted. The Need of Prayer The history of religious .life is full of these unhappy vicissitudes, just as it is full of vigorous revivals and generous recoveries. Now we all know, more or less, the formidable and systematic attack mounted against religion, our own in the first place, since it is socially structured and organically precise in its doctrine and its rites, in these times of ours in which there is a tendency to equate the secularization of society with its progress and to evolve a humanism that is radically atheist. In a certain sense, which unfortunately is not restricted to negligible or marginal manifestations, the mentality of the new lay generations has to start from the very threshold of religious life. The ministry of the faith must begin again from elementary initiation into the simplest religious expressions. By way of example, we would like to propose a first.question: Do we know how to pray? We are not casting doubt, with this aggressive question, on the validity, the efficacy, the success of the liturgical reform (of which we will be able to speak on another occasion). We mean rather to ask if the man of today, a disciple ofour "consumer" society, as is said," which is engrossed in the pursuit and enjoyment of temporal goods and imbued 970 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with the proud conviction, that it can solve everything .by itself,-without any recourse to God, or any transcendent conception of the sensible and ratio-nalist world, if this man is still able to utter in his heart any sincere, even though informal, but deep and personal conversation with God. It would be very interesting if, in the light of the Holy Year, there should spring to the lips of modern men the frank request, addressed to Christ the Master by His disciples one day: "Teach us to pray!" (Lk 11:11). That is, it would be desirable to bring to life again in people the sense, the con-cept, the need of religion; and at the same time the hope, the certainty, let us say even more, the experience of speaking tothe God of the universe; and at the same time the surprise, too, of enjoying the capacity of being able to address Him with the name, the most authentic title of His kindness and our dignity; the title of Father. Such a result would be a kind of revision of all our deviations and aberrations; it would be the rebirth of love and hope in the world. It would be the rediscovery of the reason for calling the Church "mother" (see St. Cyprian, De unitate Ecclesiae, VI, P.L. 4, 591); it would be the new insertion of salvation in the conscience and the history of the world. Our.Father! Amen. With our Apostolic Blessing. INTERIORITY AND THE HOLY YEAR (JUNE 20, 1973) Let us speak again of the Holy Year which began in the local churches on the feast of Pentecost. We will speak of it again because we would like to see, round this "Holy Year" formula, as we have already said, not only the fulfillment, but the development of a historic moment in the spiritual life of the Church, not just an event, but a religious movement. This con-ception seems to us, in the first place, in conformity with the motive of this celebration: renewal and reconciliation, aimed at stamping a permanent and general renewal on the religious and moral conscience of our times, inside and, if possible, outside the Catholic Church. In the second place, this view of the Holy Year, it seems to us, intends to reflect in the reality of thought and morals the great plan of the Council,. and prevent its salutary teaching from being relegated to the archives as voices of the past, but rather that they should operate in a masterly way in the actual life of the present and the future generation. It must be a school that becomes life. Call for New Inspiration In the third place, we wish to give importance and extension to this extraordinary religious expression, which we call the Holy Year, because the historical and social circumstances of our times are so heavy and over-powering with regard to our faith and its consequent existential logic that a necessity of seriousness, incisiveness, and strength must, it seems to us, sustain the "movement" of the Holy Year right from the beginning. Either Documents on the Holy Year / 971 it will win recognition as a general, serious, and united effortl and theret~ore a really renewing one, or it will at once be extinguished and exhausted .as a sterile attempt; good and meritorious perhaps, but in practice shortlived and ineffective. At this point some preliminary observations arise which it is well to keep in mind right now. The doubt, or rather the fear, may arise in some people that the Holy.Year movement will oppose so many other spiritual and pastoral movements, the programs of which are already tested by long and clear experience, or already approved by the authority of the Church, or recognized as legitimate and free expressions of the vitality of the People of God. No, we answer: the Holy Year does not intend to suspend, choke, and sweep away the variety and riches of the authentic manifestations already going on in the ecclesial world. The Holy Year would rather imbue them with new energy, and at the most, if possible, connect them in some way with its own general program, which calls in this case rather for the acceptance of a deep, new inspiration than for a specific and concrete ad-herence to precise particular frameworks. Not Triuml~halism Others may think that it is desired to celebrate the Holy Year in a tri-umphalistic style, with trumpetings and overwhelming exterior events, giving the exterior aspect of the movement derived from it an importance greater than other aspects of religious and Catholic life, for which, however, it is necessary to claim an importance that cannot be renounced, perhaps even a superior importance. On this point, which can constitute a strong objec-tion to the celebration of the Holy Year, we wish to invite the good to a twofold reflection. It is indeed possible, please God, that the Holy Year will have the support of the people, flocking crowds, the spectacular ap-pearance of multitudes. It is an ecclesial, universal fact; at some moments it reflects the catholic character of vocation to the gospel. It is humanity, in its immense extension, that we make the object of our invitation and our interest; also and above all on this occasion we wish to give to the heart of the Church the dimensions of the world! Should we protest, then, if the phenomenon takes on excep-tional quantitative forms and proportions? Is itnot the mystery of the unity of the Church, always manifested in the multiplicity of her univoca| and expanded fiches? We will all enjoy it. if the Lord bestows on us the grace of seeing "the spaces of charity" so widened (see St. Augustine, Sermo 69; P.L. 38, 440-441). But, in the second place, let us say at once that this spectacular, and perhaps touristic result, is not specifically the aim of the Holy Year. If a purpose of universal communion cannot but exist in the interttions of an affirmation that concerns the whole Church in her essential properties of unity and catholicity, it is not, however, the primary one as effect in time, 972 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 nor as a value in itself, because it presupposes and demands the attainment of another prior aim: the conversion of hearts, the interior renewal of spirits, the personal adherence of consciences. First the individual, conscious and aware; then the crowd. Interior Conversion We.would like this first purpose of the Holy Year to be given supreme importance. We must aim first and foremost at an interior renewal, a con-version of personal sentiments, liberation, from conventional imitation of others, revision of our outlook, deploring, more than anything else, our shortcomings before God, and towards the society of men our brothers, and with regard to the concept that everyone must have of himself, as a son of God, as a Christian, as a member of the Church. It is a new philosophy of life, if we may say so, that must be formed in every member of the mystical Body of Christ; everyone of us is invited to rectify his way of think-ing, feeling, and acting with regard to the,ideal model of the follower of Christ, while being a loyal and hard-working citizen of contemporary civil society. This great conception of the Holy Year--to give Christian life an authentic expression, consistent, interior, full, capable of "renewing the face of the earth" in the Spirit of Christ --- must be clearly present in our minds, with one very important immediate consequence: the accomplishment of this proiect begins at once and takes place in the personal conscience of each of us. We would like this personal and interior aspect of the great spiritual enterprise, now begun, to head all programs. Each one of us must feel called upon to work out for himself and in himself the religious, psychological, moral, and operative renewal which the Holy Year aims at achieving. Personal Examination With this first practical consequence: we must all verify, or carry out the introspective examination about the main line of our life, that is, about the free and responsible choice of our own vocation, our own mission, our own definition, as a man and as a Christian. A vital examination! And a second consequence, far easier, but far more insistent: it is necessary to resume the practice of good, of honesty, seeking what is better in little things, that is, in the sequence of our ordinary actions, where our defects lie in wait for us at every moment, sometimes disastrously; and where, on the contrary, integrity of action can be easily perfected, if we remember the teaching of the Lord Jesus: "He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much" (Lk 16:10). This is something to begin with immediately, for everyone; with our Apostolic Blessing. Documents concerning Religious Men The first of the two documents printed below is the address of the Holy Father on May 25, 1973, to superiors of religious orders who were taking part in the first meet-ing planned by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes to take place in Rome. The second document is a letter sent by the Pope to the Franciscan Minister General on the occasion of the General Chapter of the Friars Minor held in Madrid, Spain. TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS (MAY 25, 1973) Venerable Brothers and beloved Sons, We cordially salute you who, under the aegis of the Sacred Congrc, gation for Religious and Secular Institutes and of its worthy Cardinal PrefeCt,. are engaged in a reunion to discuss questions of no mean weight pertainin~,~[o " a life wholly consecrated to God~ Seeing you here, the superiors of so many religious families whose members are spread throughout the whole world, and having in mind your works which also extend tO every part of the world, we have to regard this meeting of yours and our gathering together here now as an event of considerable ecclesial importance. Two years ago, as you well know, we issued an apostolic exhortation beginning with the words "Evan.gelica testificatio" (Evangelical Witness), in which we reminded the religious institutes how their life must be r~newed in accordance with the directives of Vatican Council II. Now, as a confirma-tion and follow-up of that document, we wish to offer some points which it seems to us desirable to recommend, moved as we are by our paternal solicitude for these same institutes of yours. The Second Vatican Council proclaimed the charismatic nature of the religious life, declaring that the evangelical counsels are "a divine gift, which the Church received from our Lord" (Dogm. Const. Lumen gentium, 973 97'4 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 43). By this gift or charism, from its very nature, the religious "are joined in a special manner to the Church and its mystery" (ibid., 44). Whence it follows that, by reason of this intimate and very close bond, they are dependent upon ~he authority of the Church which gives authentic approval to their rules, receives the vows of those who make profession, raises that profession to the dignity of canonical status (ibid., 45) and renders the religious themselves participants in the carrying out of its salvific mission. For the steps taken by religious towards holiness are of service to all inert for their spiritual profit: "Let them know that, when the gift of themselves is accepted by the Church, they themselves are also committed to the service of the Church" (Perfectae caritatis, 5). The Holy Spirit who bestows the charisms and is at the same time the life-spring of the Church brings about the fitting mutual accord between the charismatic inspiration and the juridical structure of the Church, the more necessary because, as Vatican Council II lays down, pastors have "to give judgment as to the genuine nature and due exercise of the charisms, not indeed that they are to extinguish the Spirit but that they are to test all and retain what is good (see 1 Thess 5:12,19,21 ; A postolicam actuositatem, 3). In such a gathering as this it gives us pleasure to say again that the Church cannot do without religious, that is to say, without those witnesses of the love which Christ bore towards men, a love which far transcends nature, nor can the world be deprived of this light without loss to itself (see Evangelica testificatio, 3). For that same reason the Church itself bears witness to its high esteem for them, surrounds them with unfailing love, and does not fail to be at their side "to guide them along the true path" (see Ps 26:11). Church Expects Much But the Church expects much of the religious; through them must be "increased its fair perfection and holiness which only the imitation of Christ and mystical union with Him can give" (see Alloc. to the Conciliar Fathers, Sept. 29, 1965; AAS, 55, 1963, p. 851). The Church, through the magisterium of the Ecumenical Council, its most weighty authority, sum7 moned the religious to renewal, especially spiritual renewal. We know that not a few have striven, and are still striving, to respond to this high expectation; but it has to be said that some. have not paid heed ~to this clarion call or have not interpreted it correctly. Permit us, therefore, to remind you earnestly of the duty there is to effect the aforesaid renewal "to which priority is to be given also in promoting the external works of the apostolate" (Perfectae caritatis, 2e). From the founts of baptismal grace and of the particular charism which belongs to each of your institutes, fresh clear streams must be drawn where-by a life consecrated to-God may become possessed of an abundance of needed strength. Documents concerning Religious Men / 975 Jubilee Year But now we would pass on to a special ecclesial happening which we believe will be of particular interest also to the religious. This is the universal Jubilee which, as you are well aware, we have proclaimed, to be celebrated first in the local churches and then in the city of Rome. Since its intended object is interior renewal, also called conversion, metanoia (change of mind) or penance~ the Church depends much on the pastoral help of the religiouff. So that it will be yours, dear superiors general, to see to it that the families of which you are the heads help on and foster the operation of the Jubilee, especially by co-operating with the sacred hierarchy, in order that this renewal of souls may be effected, and that not only each one's private life but public morals too will be brought into line with Christian precepts. The religious themselves should take this God-given opportunity to think over their curriculum and way of life. That is to say, they should feel moved to compare their actual mode of life with .what is asked of them by Vatican Council II and by the apostolic exhortation Evangelica testi~catio, in order to see whether they are meeting the needs of today and are making our Savior as it were manifestly present within the fellowship of mankind. But in order that this testimony of the religious may be truly efficacious and grow in extent, the following must be noted, or rather recalled to mind. We do not cease to extol the power and necessity of prayer without which we cannot savor the intimate and true knowledge of God (see Ev. test., 43) nor find the strength to pursue the path of perfection. As the Council teaches, the importance and usefulness of prayer made in common are rightly and deservedly to be publicized. But besides this, private prayer must also be cultivated, for by this each one's spiritual vigor is maintained and increased, and by it, too, souls are soundly prepared for prayer in com-mon, especially for liturgical prayer, and are able to obtain nourishment and growth from the same. Faitldulness 1o Prayer It can well be observed of those religious whose spirituallife is flourish-ing and fruitful for others that they are "praying" religious; whereas of those who are wearied of that life or pitifully abandon the religious state, that they are almost always sluggish in the mat(er of praying. For this reason it is abundantly clear that "faithfulness to prayer or abandonment to the same are the test of the vitality or decadence of religious life" (Ev. test., 42). Christ has called you to a more perfect following of Himself and so to the carrying Of the cross, for this latter cannot be separated from your state of life. But let this cross be not only a singular instrument for the purifica-tion of the soul and a special form of apostolate; let it also be a manifest proof of love, not something oppressive but rather uplifting. "Is there not 976 / Review for Religious, liolume 32, 1973/5 a mysterious relation between renunciation and joy . between discipline and spiritual freedom?" (Ev. test., 29). Lastly, the common life is one of the more powerful elements in the renewal of religious life. Those truly very beautiful passages in no. 15 of the decree Perfectae caritatis should be re-read, read indeed again and again and with ever-renewed appreciation. In them are to be found not mere precepts of law regarding the common life, but an admirable exposition of its theological, spiritual, ecclesial, apostolic and human aspects~ There-fore there is laid upon you, beloved sons, no slight obligation to do all ' possible in order to ensure that such conditions of life are established in your houses as are "calculated to foster the spiritual advancement of each of the community" (Ev. test., 39). This truly evangelical brotherhood is also a firm safeguard for the members, especially for those who may be discouraged, passing through a crisis, suffering from sickness or old age. Which Shall Survive? Whilst today so many things are being called into question, the religious life, too, is made the subject of not a few difficulties, as you yourselves are discovering day by day. Thus there are those who anxiously seek to know how religious life is likely to shape in the years to come, whether its destiny will prove to be for better or for worse. In this regard many of you are concerned because of the fewness or lack of candidates, or because of the regrettable desertions from amongst your members. But this future destiny lies in the fidelity with which each institute follows out its vocation, that is to say, in the extent to which it. expresses in its conduct of life th~ consecration which it has vowed to God. It is above all the example of a way.of life enhanced by spiritual joy and a resolute will to be at the service of God and the brethren, which attracts candidates to religious life in our times. For the youth of today, when they give themselves to God, aim for the most part "to give all for all" (see Imitation of Christ III, 37, 5); there-fore they more readily join those institutes in which there thrives and flourishes that "kind of virginal and poverty-stricken life which Christ our Lord chose for Himself and which his Virgin Mother embraced" (dogm. constitution Lumen gentium, 46). Words of Augustine We may, then, conclude this paternal discourse with some words of St. Augustine who was himself a most outstanding promoter and eulogizer of religious life: "We exhort you in the Lord, brethren, to hold safe to your purpose and to persevere to the end; and if holy Mother Church desires some work of you, do not grasp it with over-eager elation nor yet reject it through delusive sloth; but be obedient to God with meekness of heart, with mildness bearing him who rules you, who guides the mind in Documents concerning Religious Men / 977 judgment, who teaches the meek his ways" (Ps 24:9; Ex 48, 2; PL 33, 188). Finally, with the fervent wish that this reunion of yours may have a prosperous and salutary outcome, we willingly impart to you and those committed to your care the Apostolic Blessing as a witness of our most sure affection. FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY (MAY 26, 1973) To Our beloved Son CONSTANTINE KOSER Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor In as much as the general chapter of the Order of Friars Minor will soon take place in Madrid, we believe it is only fitting for us to have our voice reach that particular assembly and each individual member of the same Franciscan family through this letter of ours, by which we desire to encourage, exhort, and guide you. This meeting is "a sort of general council, which gathers from every part of the world under one rule of life (see Th. of Celano, Vita secunda shncti Francisci, no. 192; Analecta ]ranciscana, 1926; 941, p. 240). Consequently it is an event which has a great influence and effect on the very life of an organization so widely diffused. By rights then we wish you to be the object of that "concern for all the churches" (see 2 Cor 11:28) which weighs upon our shoulders. Directives Accepted We do not believe it is necessary to repeat all that the Second Vatican Council providentially and authoritatively taught on the renewal of the religious life, nor to inculcate once again what we ourselves, following the Council, set forth in our apostolic exhortation entitled Evangelica Testi]icatio. For we are convinced that you have accepted all those directives in a spirit of obedience and have made every effort up to the present time to make them a part of your way of life. With this in mind we would like to reiterate and emphasize that which we told the members of the last general chapter held in Assisi, onamely, that the spread of your Order throughout the world, the model of its evangelical life, and its generously undertaken apostolate are all a great honor for the Church (see AAS, 59, p. 782). However, we would like to discuss this one point with you: just what is the mission, what is the vocation of your religious family in this age of ours? We ask this question so that we can lead you along to that answer which the Church expects of you. Right now, that is, in these turbulent times of ours, the Church most earnestly desires and zealously strives to have religious institutes "grow and prosper according to the spirit of their foun-ders" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). As tradition says once happened, may 9711 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 St. Francis, your founding father, be present as it were from the very beginning of your meetings and deliberations, standing at the door of the chapter hall and blessing every and all the members: look upon him! (see S. Bonaventure, Legenda maior s. Francisci, IV, 10; Analecta ]ranciscana op. mem., p. 576). Following Christ What Holy Mother the Church asks of you--as she always has done in the past--is contained in this one phrase: "Follow in the footsteps of Christ" (1 Pt 2:21). Does not the wonderful teaching and example which St. Francis offers you consist precisely in this following of Christ? For, "casting off every trace of special honor and vanity" (see Th. of Celano, op. mem., n. 144, p. 231), he gave himself completely to Christ, and on Mount Alverno he reached the culmination, so to speak, of that reality, so much so that he could say with the Apostle Paul: "Far be it from me to boast in anything except in the cross of Christ through whom the world has been crucified to me and I to the world" (Gal 6:14). As a result, "look carefully, and act according to the model shown to you on the mountain" (Ex 25:40). The more faithful image of the Savior--virgin, poor, obedient --your life becomes, the more it will testify and impart to souls the salva-tion obtained by him. As usually happens in the ordinary course of events, this fundamental truth is clouded over at times because of different factors. You know from your own experience and from the history of your Order which embraces a number of centuries that, as often as the Franciscan way of life departs from this path, great harm comes out of that which was supposed to be a source of great edification (see S. Bonaventure, Opusc. XIX, Epist. 2, n. 1; Opera omnia, Ad Claras Aquas, VIII, p. 470). Nevertheless, what St. Bonaventure says in general--namely that truth can be temporarily down-trodden, but must necessarily rise up again (see Commentar. in Evang. Luc. 21, n. 23: Opera omnia, ibid., VII, p. 528)---can also be happily applied to your own internal events and accomplishments. It is greatly to be hoped, therefore, that this particular principle may be fully effective even at this time as far as is necessary and may work both in your attitude and way of life, as well as your statements and plans, and in the renewal of your legislation. Loyalty to Church But fidelity in maintaining this following of Christ demands another kind of faithfulness: that toward the Church. Between the two there is such a relationship that the one can be known from the other. For this reason St. Francis "wholly and entirely of the Catholic faith" directed his brothers to honor the venerable footprints of the Holy Roman Church, which, in spite of every intervening difficulty,, safeguarded the bonds of charity and peace Documents.concerning Religious Men / 979 among them (see Th. of Celano, op, mere., nn. 8,and 24, pp. 135 and 145). Thus it happened that the Franciscan way of life and °work became, as it were, a river which quickened the City,,of God (Ps 45:5): suffice it to mention fhose intelligently devised plans, the evangelization of the populace, the social works and those of charity, the attractive force which goes beyond the boundaries of your own institute. Therefore it is this .feeling for and service of the Church which is your primitive, original vocation. It would be spoiled and lost if you were to consider it a mere event of a past age. On the contrary, it must always be "in action"; that is right now you must obey God, '"ivho is calling you" (1 Thess 5:24). You must undertake the tasks and responsibilities which the Church is now asking of you. Defending the Gospel At this very time great courage is demanded, especially in regard to the teaching of the truth. Are there not people here and there who "want to change the_gospel of Christ?" (Gal 1:7). In the same way, under the pressure of many individuals in our contemporary society, people get-the idea that obedience to the true faith and concern for moral behavior are no longer of profit for the advancement of the community of the Church, ~but ratl~er are an obstacle to freedom--which they understand in the wrong way. In as much as this is the way things are going, every Friar Minor should--as we firmly trust---consider himself as "assigned to the defense of the gospel" (see Phil 1:16). Let no one from your religious family allow himself to be entangled by the allurements of popularity ~which is so ephemeral and shallow; let no one out of fear give into the temptation, which is becoming the mode today, of conforming himself to the world. But if all who have been reborn through baptism "are obliged to profess before men the faith they have received from God through the Church" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 11 ), this obligation binds you so much more, because St. Francis gave you this common command to be implemented: "Obey the word of the Son of God . for He has sent you into the whole world that you might give witness to His teaching through your words and works" (Epistula ad Capitulum: Opuscula; Ad Claras Aquas, 1904, p. 100). Spread Peace May your zeal for the spread of the "gospel of peace" (Eph 6:15) be inflamed; something which will not happen unless "the truth of the Gospel remains among you" (Gal 2, 5). Certainly you are convinced that this good news of the gospel will be spread "not . . . in words alone, but in fullness and strength and the Holy Spirit" (see 1 Thess 1:5). For this reason, you must contemplate the outstanding examples of your forefathers and must be present in the world with all of that gentleness and kindness which will Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 make the intimate relationship between Christ and the Church stand out clearly, for it is this relation which applies and continues and renders visible the very work of the Savior. People from your own ranks should be at the disposal of this Church community; endowed with fitting qualities of soul and intellect, they should by their zeal and example bring the people to follow Christ the Poor Man, and they ought to do. this with complete trust in the Holy Spirit. People do not ask of you that you harmonize with the world in an equivocal fashion; for they are demanding that you show forth to them the sublimity of your own way of life, so that by looking upon it they may begin to have qualms about their own lives and may seek the city to come (see Heb 13: 14). Even at this time men are searching their souls for some-thing absolute which transcends nature; even at this time they can be led on to God by all created realities which have been reconciled through Christ (see Heb 1:19 ff.) and which speak of God. St. Francis gave your own spirituality this special mark and characteristic: it was to show that the world could be transformed in such a way that work could be called ' a grace and death a sister. Therefore, as you preach the gospel, give special priority to the teaching which is contained in the sermon on the Beatitudes, and according to which poverty is turned into riches, weeping into joy, and lowliness int~ public acclaim (Lk 6:20-3). Even though human weakness and malice continue to exist, you must affirm and promote the good, in order that in all cases and individuals it may occupy the first place, in order that the hope of the future life, which is the special characteristic of Christ's followers, may shine forth (see 1 Thess 4:13). Be therefore the guardians of this hope in the world! Dear Friars Minor! "We have spoken to you as sons; be open and joyful yourselves" (see 2 Cor 6:13)! Listen willingly to what the Church expects of you; fulfill willingly her wishes according to the nature of your vocation; sanctify yourselves and work for the extension of the king-dom of God to all the lands of the earth and for its firm establishment in the hearts of all men (see Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). We pray God very earnestly that He may be graciously present and near your general chapter and that it may have a successful outcome. To you therefore, Beloved Son, and to all the members of your Order, we affectionately impart our Apostolic Blessing as a testimony of our paternal regard. From the Vatican, 26 May 1973, in the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI The Eucharistic Prayers Sacred Congregation [or Divine Worship The following is an English translation of a letter of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship with regard to the Eucharistic Prayers. The translation is that of the weekly English language edition of Osservatore romano. 1. The reform of the sacred liturgy and especially the re-organization of the Roman Missal recently completed in accordance With the requireme.nts of Vatican Council 111 are intended above all to facilitate an intelligent, devout, and active participation in the Holy Eucharist on the part of the faithful.-~ A notable feature of this new Roman Missal, published with the authority of Paul VI, is undoubtedly the wealth of text from which a choice may often be made, whether in the case of the Readings from Holy Writ or in that of the chants, prayers, and acclamations on the part of the faithful, or again in regard to the "presidential" prayers, not indeed excluding the Eucharistic Prayer itself for which three new texts, in addition to the venerable traditional Roman Canon, have been brought into use? Variety of Texts in the Missal 2. The reason for providing this ample variety of texts and the purpose intended by the revision of the forms of prayer to be used are of a pastoral nature, namely in order to bring about both unity and variety of liturgical prayer. By making use of these texts as set forth in the Roman Missal, the 1See Vatican "Council II, the constitutio~ Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 48, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. 2See Paul VI, the aiaostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 217-22. 3Ibid., p. 219. 981 Review Jor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 various groups of the faithful who gather together to celebrate the Holy Eucharist feel that they form part of the one Church praying with one faith and one prayer, and at the same time they enjoy a timely ability, especially where the vernacular is used, of being able to proclaim in many ways the one same mystery of Christ, whilst they can the more easily lift up their hearts individually to God in prayer and thanksgiving4 and can participate in the celebration with great spiritual fruit. 3. For some years after its promulgation the new Roman Missal could not be completely introduced everywhere for celebration with the people, because the translation of it into the vernacular of. a great number of nations was an enormous work requiring quite a period of time? Moreover, the opportunity thus provided for increasing pastoral efficacy is oftentimes not appreciated nor, in arranging the Mass, is sufficient thought given to the common good of the congrega~tion.6 New Requests 4. Meanwhile a desire has arisen amongst not a few to adapt the Eucharistic celebration still further by the composition of new forms of prayer, including even new Eucharistic Prayers. They say that the choice provided by the present "presidential" prayers and the four Eucharistic Prayers in the existing "Ordo Missae" still does not fully meet the manifold requirements of the different groups, regions, and peoples. Therefore it was many times requested of this Sacred Congregation to approve, or grant the faculty of approving and bringing into use, new texts both of ordinary prayers and of Eucharistic Prayers .more in tune with the modern, way of thinking and of talking. Moreover, quite a number of authors of various languages and countries have published, during the last few years, Eucharistic Prayers composed by: themselves under the guise of studies; and it has frequently happened thak, notwithstanding what is laid down in Vatican Council II7 and episcopal pro-hibitions, some priests have made use of privately composed texts in their celebration Of Mass. 5. In view of all the foregoing, the Sacred Congregation, by mandate of the Supreme Pontiff and after consulting experts from various parts of the globe, gave careful study to the question of the composing of new 4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. ¯ ~With regard to the principles according to which the translations must be made, see the Commission for the Execution of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, "Instruction sur la traduction des textes liturgiques pour la c616bration avec le peuple," January 25 1969, Notitiae, 5 (1969), pp. 3-12. 6"Institutib generalis Missalis romani," no. 313. zSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 22, par. 3, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 106. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~3 Eucharistic Prayers and of giving to Episcopal Conferences the faculty of approving them, together with cognate questions and their outcome. The conclusions arrived at from this study were submitted to the members of this Sacred Congregation at a plenary session, to the judgement of the other Sacred Congregations concerned, and finally to the Supreme Pontiff. After mature consideration of the whole question, it did not seem advis-able at this juncture to grant to Episcopal Conferences the general faculty of bringing out or approving new Eucharistic Prayers. On the contrary, it has seemed more opportune to call attention to the pressing need of giving fuller instruction on the nature and reality of he Eucharistic Prayer? Seeing that this is the culminating point of the celebration, it must also be the culminating point, of an instruction in depth on the subject. It seems like-wise necessary that fuller, information should be given as to the possibilities of encouraging a full participation on the part of the~ faithful, offered to priests by the use of the current liturgical regulations and of the prayer-forms contained in the Roman Missal. Directives 6. Therefore the four Eucharistic Prayers contained in the revised Roman Missal remain in force, and it is not permitted to make .use of any other composed without the permission of the Apostolic See or without the approval of the same. Episcopal Conferences and individual bishops are earnestly begged to put pertinent arguments before their priests in order to bring them wisely to the observance of the same regulations as laid down by the Roman Church, to the benefit of the Church itself and in furtherance of the proper conducting of liturgical functions. .The Apostolic See, moved by the pastoral desire for unity, reserves to i~elf the right of determining a matter of such great importance as the regulations for the Eucharistic Prayers. Within the unity of the Roman Rite it will not refuse to consider legitimate, requests; and petitions coming to it from Episcopal Conferences for the drawing up of some new Eucharistic Prayer in particular circumstances and introducing it into the liturgy will be given ~benevolent consideration; but in each case the Holy See will lay down the norms to be followed. 7. After making this decision known, it seems useful to offer some con-siderations which may render its meaning clearer and its execution easier. Of these, some have to do with the nature and importance of the Eucharistic Prayer in liturgical, and especially Roman, tradition; others concern the things that can be done to accommodate the celebration to each congrega-tion without in any way altering the text of the Eucharistic Prayer. sSee Cardinal Benno Gut, "Letter to the Presidence of Episcopal Conference," Janu-ary 2 1969, Notitiae, 4 (1969), pp. 146-8; "Indications pour faciliter la cat6ch~se des anaphores de la Messe," ibid., pp. 148-55. 9114 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 Nature o[ Eucharistic Prayer 8. The Eucharistic Prayer, which is of its very nature the "culminating point of the whole celebration," is a "prayer of thanksgiving and of sanc-tification" whose purpose is "that the whole congregation of the faithful may unite i[self with Christ in proclaiming the wondrous things of God and in offering the sacrifice.''9 This Prayer is offered by the ministering priest who is the intermediary translating both the voice of God addressed to the people, and the voice of the people lifting up the soul to God. It alone must be heard, while the congregation gathered to celebrate the sacred litur-gy remains devoutly silent. In this Prayer, over and above the catechetical.indications intended to highlight the particular characteristic of. any celebration, there supervenes the element of thanksgiving for the universal mystery of salvation or for some particular aspe.ct of this which, in accordance with the day, the feast, the season, or the rite, is being celebrated.1° For this reason, in order that those taking part in the Eucharist may the better render thanks to God and bless Him, already in the new Roman Missal "there has been an increase in the provision of Prefaces, either taken from the ancient tradition of the Roman Church or 'now composed for the first time, by means of which particular aspects of the mystery of salva-tion are brought out and more and richer motives for thanksgiving are offered."11 For the same reason, the priest presiding at the Eucharist enjoys the faculty of introducing the Eucharistic Prayer with a brief reminder12 to the people of the motives for thanksgiving in words suited to the congregation at the particular time, in such manner that those present feel that their own way of life is part and parcel of the history of salvation and gain ampler benefits from the celebration of the Eucharist. ~ 9. Again, so far as the end looked to by the Eucharistic Prayer is con-cerned, as well as its make-up and structure, the aspect known as petition or intercession is to be considered secondary. In the reformed liturgy that aspect is developed especially in the universal prayer whereby, in a freer form and one more suited to the circumstances, supplications are made for the Church and for mankind. Nonetheless, the new liturgical books offer also a variety of forms of intercession to be inserted into the different Eucharistic Prayers, according to the structure of each, in particular celebra- '~"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. 1°See ibid., no. 552. 11Paul VI, the apostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), p. 219. lzSee "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,'" no. 11. The Eucharistic Prayers / 985 tions, and above all in ritual Masses.1~ In this way the reason for any partic-ular celebration is made clear and definitive, while at the time the offering of this prayer in communion with the whole Church is signalized,at Embolisms 10. Besides the variations noted above, which are intended to bring about a closer connection between the thanksgiving and the intercessions, there are also, in the Roman tradition, some special formulas to be used "infra actionem" on the principal solemnities of the liturgical year, whereby the memorial of the mystery of Christ being celebrated is made the more manifest.1,~ It is clear from this that there was concern in ancient tradition to main-tain the unchangeable character of the text, while yet not excluding certain opportune variations. If the faithful, hearing the same text again and again, unite themselves somewhat the more easily with the priest celebrant in prayer, nevertheless some variations, though only few in number, prove acceptable and useful, arousing attention, as they do, encouraging piety and lending a certain special quality to the prayer. Nor is there any reason why the Episcopal Conferences should not make similar provision for their own areas, a bishop for his diocese, or the com-petent authority for the Proper pertaining to a religious family, in regard to the points mentioned above (nos. 8-10) as open to variation, and then ask the Holy See for confirmation of the same. Ecclesial Dimensions 11 :' The ecclesial importance attaching to the Eucharistic celebration is to be highly esteemed. For while in the celebration of the Eucharist "there is represented and brought about the unity of the faithful who constitute one body in Christ,''~6 "the celebration of Mass is already in itself a profession of faith in which the Church recognizes and expresses itself.''~7 All this is abundantly apparent in the Eucharistic Prayer itself, in which not just some lain regard to Eucharistic Prayer I or the Roman Canon, besides the faculty of introducing names in the Memento (N.N.), see the special Memento for godparents in Masses for the initiation into the Church of adults and the formulas for the Hanc igitur in Masses from the Easter vigil to the second Sunday of paschal time, for baptisms of adults, for confirmation, ordination, marriages, profession, for the con-secration of virgins; in regard to Eucharistic Prayers II, III, IV, see Embolisms for adult neophytes, those professed, and consecrated virgins. a4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 55g. x.~See the proper Communicantes for Christmas and octave, for the Epiphany, from the Mass of the paschal vigil until the second Sunday of paschal time, for the Ascension and for Pentecost. x6See Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 3, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 62 ~rSecretariat for Christian Unity, the instruction ltt quibus rerum circumstantiis, June 1 1972, no. 2b, AAS, v. 64 (1972), p. 520. 986 / Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 private person or a local community only, but "the one only Catholic Church" existing in whatsoever number of individual churches18 addresses itself to God. But where Eucharistic Prayers are introduced without any approbation from the competent authority in the Church, disquiet and dissensions fre-quently arise among priests and in congregations, whereas on the contrary the Eucharist ought to be "a sign of unity" and "a bond of charity.''19 Indeed not a few complain of the too subjective character of such texts. The fact is that those who take part in the celebration have a right that the Eucharistic Prayer, which they ratify as it were by their "Amen," should not be mixed up with or wholly imbued with the personal preferences of the one'who wrote the text br makes use of it. Hence it is. obviously necessary that only those texts of the Eucharistic Prayer are to be employed which, being approved by legitimate Church authority, manifest very clearly and fully an ecclesial bearing. Catechetical Preparation 12. But a more accurate adaptation of the celebration to the diversity of congregations and of circumstances, °and also a fuller expression of the catechetical content, which cannot be always or conveniently effected in the Eucharistic Prayer, given its nature, will be able to be inserted in those parts and set forms of the liturgical action which lend themselves to varia-tion or require it. 13. First of all, those who prepare the celebrations or preside at them are reminded of the faculty granted in the "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,''2° whereby they can, in certain cases, choose Masses and also texts for the various parts of the Mass, such as Lessons, prayers, chants, so that they answer "as far as possible to the needs, the preparation of mind and the capacity of those taking part.''21 Nor is it to be forgotten that other documents, published since the appearance of the aforementioned "In-structio," offer further guidelines.and directions for enlivening celebrations and adapting them to pastoral needs.~ Admonitions 14. Amongst the matters which lend themselves to a fuller adaptation lSSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 23, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 27. 19st. Augustine, In loannis Evangelium Tractatus, 26, 13, CCL, v. 36, 266; and see Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 47, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. zo"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," nos. 314-24. Zqbid., no. 313. -°-°See Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the instruction Actio pastoralis, May 15 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 806-11; the instruction Memoriale Domini, May 29 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 541-7; and the instruction Sacramentali com-municatione, June 29 1970, AAS, v. 62 (1970)i pp. 664-7. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~7 and are left to the individual celebrants to make use of, it is well to keep in mind the admonition, the homilies, and the universal prayers. Firstly the admonitions: by means of these the faithful are brought to a deeper understanding of the meaning of the sacred function or of some of its various parts. Of these admonitions those are of special importance which the priest himself is invited by the "Instructio generalis Missalis romani" to compose and deliver for the purpose of introducing those present to the Mass of the day before the actual celebration begins, or to the liturgy of the word before the readings, or to the Eucharistic Prayer before the Preface; and also as a conclusion of the whole sacred ceremony before the dismissal.2a T.hen again, importance is to be given to those admonitions that are laid down in the "Ordo Missae" for certain rites, which are to be introduced either before the penitential act or before the Lord's prayer. Naturally these admonitions need not be given word for word as set out in the Missal, so much so indeed that it may well be advisable, at least in certain instances, to adapt them somewhat to the actual circumstances of the particular. gathering. Nevertheless, in giving these admonitions their particular char-acter is to be preserved, so that they do not turn into sermons or homilies; and care must be taken to be brief, and verbosity, wearisome to the partic-ipants, must be avoided. Homily and Universal Prayer 15. Besides the admonitions there is the homily to be kept in mind. It is "part of the liturgy o itself''24 and is the means of explaining to the faithful there present,, in a manner suited to their cap.acity and way of life and relative to the circumstances of the celebration, the word of God that is proclaimed in the liturgical assembly. 16. Finally, considerable importance is to be attached to the Universal Prayer with which the congregation responds~ in a certain way, to the word of God already explained to them and accepted by them. To ensure its efficacy, care must be taken that the petitions offered up for various needs throughout the world should be suited to the congregation, bringing to bear in their composition that wise freedom consistent with the nature of this prayer. Style of Reading 17. Without any doubt, for the celebration to be a truly community and live happening, besides the choice of its various elements it requires that the one presiding and the others who have some particular function to perform should give thought to the various kinds of verbal communica- -~3See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 11. -~Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 52, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 114. Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 tion with the congregation, namely the Readings, the homily, the admoni-tions, the introduction, and the like.z~ In reciting the prayers, and especially theEucharistic Prayer, the priest ¯ .- must avoid on the one hand a dry style of reading without any variation of voice, and on the other hand a too subjective and emotional style of speech and action. As the one presiding over the function, he must be very careful in reading or singing to help those taking part to form a true community celebrating and living the memorial of the Lord. 18. In order to ensure a still fuller impact of the word and greater spiritual fruit, due regard must be given, as indeed many desire, to the sacred silence which is to be observed at stated times as part of the liturgical actions,-~6 in order that each one, according to temperament and the reaction of the moment, either makes some self-examination or meditates briefly on what he has just been listening to or praises God and prays to Him in his heart.27 19. In view of all the above, it may be permitted to express the earnest wish and hope that the pastors of souls, instead of introducing novelties in the way of texts and rites into the sacred functions, will rather be con-cerned to instruct the faithful with anxious care in order that these may the better understand the nature, structure, and elements of the celebration, and especially of the Eucharistic Prayer, and may participate ever more fully and more knowledgeably in the celebration itself. The power and the efficacy of the sacred liturgy does not consist merely in the newness and variety of its elements, but in a deeper communion with the mystery of salvation made actual and operative in the liturgical function. In this way alone are the faithful, in their profession of one faith and outpouring of one prayer, enabled to follow out their salvation and be in communion with their brethren. The matters contained in this Circular Letter, drawn up by this Sacred Congregation, were approved and confirmed by the Supreme Pontiff Pope Paul VI on the 18th day of April 1973 and ordered by him to be made public. From the offices of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the 27th day of April 1973. ARTHUR Card. TABERA Prefect "I" A. BUGNINI Tit. Archbp. of Diocletiana Secretary 2~See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 18. °-~See Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum ~Concilium, no. 30, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 108; and Sacred Congregation of Rites, the instruction Musicam sacram, March 5 1967, no. 17, AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 305. -~rSee "lnstitutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 23. Spirituality in a.Time of Transition George M. Regan, C.M. George M. Regan, C.M., is chairman of the Department of Theology; St. John's University; Grand Central and Utopia Parkways; Jamaica, New York 11439. Pluralism has become a central fact in Church life and theology in our day. The uniformity in structures, laws, customs, and religious outlook which formerly prevailed has given way to divergence. Against this pluralistic background, it becomes impossible to claim one monolithic conception of spirituality for religious today. Religious communities differ enormously from one another, and individual religious sometimes agree to disagree in matters concerning spirituality. Tension between Two Understandings Some entire communities and many individual religious follow the same routine and understanding inherited from former generations. A highly structured order of day with set times for prayer, common meditation books, reading in the dining hall, and frequent communal exercises still prevail in some communities. This approach to spirituality generally assigns great prominence to the virtue of obedience to the Rule and to various authorities as the focal point of one's spiritual life. On the other hand, some communities and many religious, particularly younger persons, have adopted a more fluid and personalistic approach to spirituality which emphasizes personal responsibility and underlying values, rather than stressing so much obedience to set regulations. The introduction of shared responsibility among the meml:~ers tempers greatly the traditional understanding of obedience. A widespread dissatisfaction with such prayer forms as litanies, novenas, the rosary, and stations of the cross, together 989 990 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with a questioning of the underlying rationale for these forms characterize many religious. Tension between these two general understandings often exists in the same province, the same local house, and even in the same person, who may vacillate, one day wanting the freedom of personal responsibility, another day desirous of some common regulations regarding spirituality. Frequently, one encounters religious whose general chapters moved the community officially toward a spirituality which stresses personal responsibility and the members are experiencing the pains of transition to the actual practice of spiritual values, once the supports and structures of a lifetime were removed. Though consolidation and lessening of polarization can be noted in some religious communities, individual religious find this transitional period a painful experience. The task of appropriating personally Christian values can be quite trying and the price paid may be confusion, drifting, and out-right failure. Young and old, liberal and conservative, share these difficulties. This article will concern itself mostly with religious who find themselves in this trying situation of transition to new meanings. Mutual understanding among re!igious may help tide them over to some degree during this transi-tional stage. Ministry to religious will also require sensitivity, compassion, and an appreciation of the practical implications involved in the shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to a more personalistic view of the spiritual life. In particular, we shall present some main features of a contemporary theology of spirituality and apply this to religious life. By way of introduction, however, a brief review of the former, obedience-centered spirituality may serve to locate and focus more sharply our main consi~derations. The Obedience-centered Approach The traditional stress in religious life on the Rule, authority, and the virtue of obedience bears similarity t~o the law-centered approach to moral theology which prevailed until relatively recently. This mo,rality or way of life for the Christian, as presented in the moral manuals in use until the mid-1960s, assigned prominence to law and to self-perfection through the acquiring of virtue. Obedience to law in all exactness came through in trad.itional moral theology as the center of the Christian moral life. An impression was conveyed of certainty and security. Individual acts of a person received far more emphasis than did the overall life stance or attitude which a believer gradually assu~es before God and the neighbor. "Live within the confines of the law" seemed the main moral task. This mentality became influential within many religious communities in their approach to spirituality. A candidate would be encouraged during formation to give onself to Christ, to give up one's will, to make a holocaust of oneselL One's will, mind, possessions, sexual love, and personal .prefer-ences would be given over to God. The role of authority, the Rule, and Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 991 obedience would be emphasized. To do as one is told, to place oneself as an awl in the hands of the carpenter would be familiar emphases in formation programs. The individual would not ordinarily be urged to plan, suggest, modify, or advise. The most docile and obedient candidate would be considered .the best and "growing in holiness." Sacrifice of one's will to the will of legitimate authority, in particular, occupied a prominent position in this traditional spirituality. "The less "of me in obedience, the more of Christ" has a familiar ring. Spirituality and life style fit a highly regulated pattern in this approach. The stress on communal goals led to a broad uniformity reaching into utmost details of ~religious life. A personal goal of self-fulfillment or indi-viduality would often be considered pride. A person would not usually be encouraged to express emotions, to develop individual personality, or to value creative expressiveness. Talents and interests would often be chan-neled solely for common purposes in many communities, so that, for example, the religious would not be consulted about even one's future apostolate. A rigid common order of day and uniform control of m~tters such as. coming and going, or habit, all fitted into~ this controlled life style. Spirituality was marked by an abundance of spiritual exercises, which constituted one's principal prayers, many of them said in common. Most communities required daily meditation, Mass, various examinations of conscience, morning and evening prayers, some part of the Office and various special devotions, such as the rosary, novenas, stations of the cross, reading of Sacred Scripture, the Imitation of Christ, the Rule, and spiritual books. Penance such as fast and abstinence, abstention from tobacco and alcohol, and the public declaration of faults in chapter were found in all communities. Fidelity to long hours of work, whatever be one's assignment, and a general separation from people likewise characterized this approach to re-ligious life. Detailed norms governing visits to or from relatives, mixing with the laity and other "externs," and the vows were commonplace. The interpretation of the vow of poverty left little room for individual choice by religious, for the person ~was expected to get permission in many com-munities for any money spent or received. In religious communities of women, the vow of chastity provided the occasion for many protections established to safeguard the members: clothing, a companion system, severe restriction in reading, television, attendance at movies and shows, and contacts with men were all areas surrounded with protections. Obedi-ence meant basically a willingness to be submissive and to put one's judg-ment into the hands of superiors. This total control by superiors involved little consultation, and self-w, ill oi personal preferences were downgraded. The superiors' decisions were viewed oftentimes as final and unquestioned. This obedience-centered approach to religious life implied that Christian spirituality should center on ~unSwerving fidelity to all the details regulated 99:2 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 by the Rule and authority. Understandably, obedience became the center of one's life. This approach to spirituality, moreover, tended to view the life of grace as a supernaturalizing of nature which involved a suspicion of or actual opposition to the "merely natural." Emotions and sexuality, for example, might never seem quite Christian or supernatural in this perspec-tive. To castigate this approach to spirituality is not at all the purpose of this brief summary. Many religious obviously grew closer to God and the neighbor in their absolute fidelity to this viewpoint. Large numbers of religious functioning today have this as their general background and many have grown into new ways without immense problems. Appreciation of this traditional approach to religious life and spirituality will hopefully assist other religious unfamiliar with it and also aid those who minister to religious. This holds especially true for those religous who are attempting to adopt another approach to spirituality. Personal Response to Inner Value Many religious communities, local houses, and individual religious have moved away from this obedience-centered approach to spirituality, to an approach which emphasizes personal response to inner value. Religious who operate within this new framework experience immense changes: the former uniformity has given way to greater emphasis on personal respon- " sibility and individuality; spii'itual exercises have usually diminished in number, the kinds of common prayers have changed, and the underlying value of prayer has been stressed; choice of residence, companions, and apostolate in a self-selection process has often emerged; the vows remain, but the tight regulations interpreting them have been removed or signif-icantly altered. In this approach to religious life, a person is viewed as entering a community to develop oneself fully in the service of Christ and the neighbor, to put one's full talents at the disposal of people, and to take part in and share responsibility for the Church and for the community itself. Their most basic commitment will come into greater prominence: to enter into the death and resurrection of Jesus, leading to perfect charity toward God and the neighbor. Rather than obedience, selfless charity becomes the primary Christian virtue, in accordance with Jesus' teaching. Life itself is seen as a response to God and the neighbor in love: "How can I respond to real needs as I see them? How can I actively cooperate in community life, by advising, suggesting, and modifying?" Such questions come more readily to mind and new candidates will be encouraged in these attitudes. Personal development of healthy human qualities occupies a more central position in this outlook: "The more a person grows and reaches a balanced maturity, the more the roots of Christ's life will be strengthened." Acceptance of the authentically human implied in such a principle leads to Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 993 urging upon religious today utilization of their native talents, creative ex-pression, and a heightened personal initiative. Whatever dehumanizes the individual religious or other persons served in the apostolate, by overlook-ing their mind, heart, emotions, talents and the like, is thus viewed as un-christian. The human person in all his richness emerges in this viewpoint, therefore, as an absolute value in himself, to be safeguarded and promoted. This framework allows more emphasis on the personal response of the individual religious to inner values, both human and Christian. Decentraliza-tion, coresponsibility, and subsidiarity become the new hallmarks of obedience, for the realities underlying these terms shift the focus from .institutions to the local level and the individual religious. Each province, each house, and indeed each sister, priest, or brother is seen as making a unique contribution to the ongoing task of discerning the movement of the Holy Spirit in the group and in oneself. Spirituality itself thus becomes a more personal affair of responding according to one's convictions to human and Christian values grasped through one's own appreciation. The former stress on a host of spiritual exercises performed communally gives ¯ way to fewer common prayer gatherings, but with a concurrent stress on the individual's need to pray and to join at times with one's companions in prayer. In matters of life style, such as religious garb, types of work, freedom to come and go, and close association with non-community persons, the individual's religious commitment is not viewed as precluding choices similar to those of the Christian laity. This brief overview of the traditional approach to religious life and contemporary tendencies has the danger of caricaturing both viewpoints. This presentation has attempted, nevertheless, to recall the predominant flavor of each approach, while realizing the nuancing and variations embodied in religious communities. We shall now turn our attention to some questions associated with this immense shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to the value-centered spirituality of personal responsibility. Stressing Values Today Religious grew accustomed to viewing life as "doing what I'm told." Withthe growing reliance on person responsibility and on one's own con-science, rather than on the Rule and superiors, some religious today drift aimlessly. Formerly, they were trained to look for virtue and sin in indi-vidual acts, especially when the Rule, customs of the community, or the will of the superior would be at stake. Abandonment of this law-centered-ness in their community may leave them wondering what spirituality now implies for them. They may understandably fail to grasp that the basic failure to clarify personally accepted values in such matters as prayer, poverty, chastity, and coresponsibility all entail immense accountability. Likewise, the challenge to assume responsibility for one's life, to respond to the needs of people by taking initiative and risk, to prepare for one's 994 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 apostolate, to continue one's education by personal study, and to serve others selflessly is the vast field of human and Christian values which con-stitute spirituality for them. Religious may, therefore, lack the clearcut criteria of the past; but their personal sense of God's calling and of conscientious Christian response will surely point out areas of concern and of neglect to grow, whether they be prayer, concern for the neighbor, or personal growth in ensuring healthy psychological development. How one strives to pray, to serve others, to manifest responsibility in the apostolate, to be poor, chaste, and a contrib-uting member of the community all take on more connotations for a Chris-tian which cannot be carefully and casuistically delineated in the manner of past moral theology and religious spirituality. They nonetheless embody the task of spirituality for religious today. The individual religious and those who minister to religious have a joint responsibility to reflect on the entirety of Gospel values and to apply them in their lives today; to chal-lenge religious when neglect of these values has however subtly crept in; to assist the person in facing himself or herself and in deepening con-victions about Christian values. The Christian calling for religious today, then, is to center their lives on taking more seriously gospel values and to live within the overall frame-work proper to any Christian, as applied in their concrete circumstances. In the past decade, significant progress has occurred in moral theology in reformulating and expressing the way of life revealed in Jesus. These developments hold good promise for our appreciation of Christian spiritu-ality. The following brief presentation of some main lines of these develop-ments will have a direct bearing on the question of a spirituality relevant for religious today: The Framework of Christian Life A personalist approach to theology may be discerned in contemporary literature. This holds true for moral theology in a spec.ial fashion where many authors now present the Christian life centered on the theme of God's call and man's response. This contrasts considerably with the more abstractionist and law-centered approach of former times. The Trinitarian framework of the way of life preached by Jesus provides an overall structure of God approaching man and offering Himself to him: "We shall come to him and make our abode with him." Passages of Sacred Scripture where Jesus promises to send the Spirit and to live among us, or where He pictures God as a Father close to His sons, offer an image of God and man in intimate relationship. Each person is approached by a loving and con-cerned God and .challenged to respond personally to Him. This "call-response" morality and spirituality replace the former stress on law and selfrperfection, in the basic meaning of grace, God's self-gift, God gives Himself to man and acts in him, enabling him to respond. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 995 .~ New Testament teaching indicates the chief manifestation of this love of God to be the way in which we love our neighbor. The one virtue of charity directed toward God and man holds a primacy over all other virtues, including obedience. The law-centered approach of older moral theology has thus given way to a love-centered approach, viewed as more faithful to Jesus' teaching. No impersonal law governs the Christian; rather life may be seen in its entirety as a response to a personal and loving God. "Falling in love" with God expresses the main task of Christian conversion to the Lord which Jesus preached. A morality of relationship conceived along theseolines thus sees each person in dialogue with God and meeting God in the~ events, people, and prayer experiences of daily living. Within this personalist framework of loving response to God's invitation, the central role of Jesus in Christian living has become a major theme. Jesus presents Himself as our way, truth, and life, and other New Testament writers see our union with Jesus as a basic fact of the Christian way of life. This conception of Jesus' relationship with the Christian believer ranges far beyond viewing Him as an external model or pattern to be imitated or mimicked~ God has approached man and .continues to invite man in Jesus His Son who in a humanity like ours responded selflessly. United in Him, we have received the capacity to respond selflessly too. As sons in the Son of God, we become immersed ~in His destiny and receive a personal invitation to enter into~intimate relationship with Him. Any spirituality which merits the name Christian must, therefore, see this personal relationship with Jesus as the focal point~°or core element. The individual religious and those charged with direction should, then, confront 'this fundamental Christian vision in a constant way. Such confrontation at this deep level of Christian life moves well past lesser issues to the core of religious life: the task of answering the call to "Come, follow me." A Continuing Process Man's response to God's personal call is seen as a continuing process, not simply as a series of individual acts. Contemporary theologians em-phasize greatly the life direction, or orientation'which a person gradually assumes ,toward God, manifested in his love of the neighbor. This basic choice, or fundamental option, as it has been termed, grows throughout one's life into a commitment in faith and love which, underlies all individual acts and does not easily waver or disappear. The exceptional concern with individual acts familiar to all who formerly studied moral theology has thus lessened, if not vanished entirely, in present-day moral theology. Rather than becoming excessively concerned with individual choices alone, the believer is urged to see the Holy Spirit guiding him from within as his primary law; The Christian should, in the mind of St. Paul, deepen this lifegrowth through increasing personal response to the Spirit and become further removed from the "law of sin and death," from which Jesus set 996 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 us free. For religious working within this perspective, the Spirit Himself would be viewed as one's guidance. All other norms or regulations can occupy only a secondary and peripheral place in the Christian life for the faithful Christian. Religious life can never imply the abandonment of this glorious heritage of Christians: their freedom as God's children to follow the Spirit which moves them to discern the task of love. Viewed in this broad perspective, Christian life and spirituality are a continuous conversion to God through one's free and full disposal of him-self. This occurs at a profound level of the human person and becomes manifested in acts which may reveal, though they sometimes hide, his actual inner state. In contrast with traditional ascetical theology, which gave some prominence to the three ways of the spiritual life, a contemporary treat-ment of Christian living would stress this Biblical notion of gradual, yet continuing conversion to God and the neighbor, which avoids the artificial-ity of the division of the spiritual life into the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. The openendedness of conversion to a lifetime of development, moreover, cuts against merely "getting by" in a minimalistic interpretation of Christian life and also allows more of a positive emphasis. Humanism, the World, and Life-giving Moral and ascetical theology often mentioned a division between natural and supernatural virtues, motives, or elements in man. Whatever seemed merely "natural" took on a rather base meaning for the believer swept into the Christian life of perfection. Unfortunately, this two-storyed approach to~ the question of the relationship between nature and grace can lend the wrong connotation that natural human features such as emo-tions, sexuality, humor, a vibrant personality, and a keen sense of joy do not have much place in a "supernatural" universe. This happened in many a religious formation program. Repression of feelings, human qualities, and one's individual characteristics follow too readily in this atmosphere. A packaged and stereotyped religious may emerge as an ideal. Spiritual direction and personal reflection of religious today must cope realistically with the unhealthy consequences of these false understandings which contemporary theology has abandoned. Christian spirituality should instead acknowledge the goodness of all that is human: emotions, sexuality, temperament, personality, and the like should enter into the Christian response of the whole person. Development and fulfillment of these truly human aspects of the person should be incorporated into any authentic approach to Christian spirituality. An inescapable element in contemporary theology has been a growing concern with the here-and-now, with real people living in the present world. Secularization theology made that' emphasis predominant: Despite the enormous stress today on the virtue of hope and the image of God calling us from and toward Our future, theology sees this challenge of the Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 997 future kingdom as urging us even now to concern ourselves with man in his present-day strivings and problems. Building the kingdom of justice, peace, harmony, and love should not simply be relegated to the afterlife. A Christian spirituality directed beyond this world would, then, neglect this essential element. That God may be found at the deepest point of the human and that other persons, events, and nature itself reveal God to the believer's .eye are the sorts of emphases common in contemporary literature which apply directly to an updated spirituality for religious. How might religious serve the world in profound love? How might they enter into dynamic relationship with people .and not be unduly separated from them? Christian discernment must focus on such central questions. The prevailing mood of today's theology, finally, seems far more optimistic, joyful, and hopeful than did traditional moral and ascetical theology. This may result from the importance assigned to the Resurrection in today's literature. Some years ago, more emphasis was placed on the Passion and Death of Jesus, and in a way which sometimes failed to take sufficient account of his victory over suffering and death. This distorted theology of the cross led inevitably to a glorification of suffering, pain, or deprivation in an unchristian and masochistic way. Dread, anxiety, negativ-ism, or pessimism runs counter to the life-filled Spirit which animates and invigorates the believer. Celebration of the forces of life and love is a more authentic Christian disposition. The search for life-giving, rather than death-dealing forces should be a prime sign of Christian humanism. A joyless Christian spirituality will, therefore, hopefully find fewer adherents today than might formerly have been the case. That suffering and a certain death will precede life and resurrection, as they did for Jesus, appears of course in today's theology. This aspect of Christian life and spirituality does not, however, receive as much prominence as formerly and it is placed into the broader perspective of the entire Paschal mystery. Religious might well aim at assuming more of this joyful,, hopeful, and optimistic tone into their spirituality, which should rest ultimately on their trust and confidence in God's power. Results of These Emphases These comments clearly do not lead to a detailed and specific spirituality which brings into the forefront a set of uniform practices. Pluralism in forms of spirituality, then, would be taken for granted within this broad Christian framework. Regulations, spiritual exercises, and rigid conformity recede to the background. A spirituality based on a personal response to God in Christ, through the action of the Holy Spirit, replaces a spirituality founded on a morality of law arid of individual acts. The stress on avoidance of sin, on obligation, and on negativism which characterized some former writings will appear unusual, if not unchristian, to a person versed in these recent approaches. Is life becoming a YES to God? Is the person choosing 998 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 more and more to reach out to God and to others selflessly, after the pattern of God's own Son? Is the person gradually gaining the sense of giving himself over to the action of the Holy Spirit from within, relying on His guidance in a spirit of freedom and joy? The concerns evidenced in these sorts of questions become more central in the person's spirituality. Because Christian holiness implies personal response to a loving God, leading to genuine friendship with Him, it rules out a merely instinctual approach to religious of Christian life. Blind and irrational impulse does not equal religious fervor. Fetishes, superstitions, empty traditions, and formalistic ritualism, without inner meaning, have no place in a human or Christian way of life. Authentic tradition and ritual will buttress Christian convictions and express them in continuity with the past Christian com-munity. Sheer compulsive activity without an inner giving of oneself to God in personal union with Him as a friend to a friend, on the other hand, duplicates the empty observances of the Pharisees condemned by Jesus. Holiness can never be viewed as measured by a proliferation of regulations or observances. A legalistic approach to "following the Rule," without a sufficient inner sense of responding to God and the neighbor as the main animating criterion of a believer's life, deserves to die its death. Even one's approach to such laudatory practices as confession of one's sins, the rosary, the Divine Office, and Eucharist, must avoid an attitude of "just fulfilling my obligation." Unless such prayers spring from genuine interior disposi-tions, they fail to be authentic religious acts. The Goal and the Means Implicit in the foregoing, but deserving special mention, is the oft-repeated, but as frequently forgotten, distinction between the goal of spirituality and the means to attain it. Spiritual exercises, however devo-tional and fervent, do not of themselves constitute one's life of loving union with God and the neighbor, toward which all genuine spirituality leads. All prayers, orders of day, and other structures and forms, have a relative, not an absolute value as contributing hopefully to the deepening of this relationship with the Triune God. Spiritual direction and religious life itself, therefore, should allow room for individual differences in fostering the goals of spirituality and they should not unduly absolutize spiritual exercises by making them, in effect, goals unto themselves. A spirituality based on personal responsibility leads more often than not, it seems, to a lessening of communal prayers. IneVitably, this creates tensions between individual and communal° needs in the matter of prayer. This problem is not easily resolved, and pluralism and polarization emerge forcefully in this context. The desire for smaller group living in like-minded communities sometimes stems from this factor alone. Dialogue, sensitivity to one another, and a genuine desire for a Christian prayer community will go a long way in calming the waters. Experience indicates, however, that Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 999 the broader issue of unity in diversity within religious communities comes to bear on this point. Universal solutions have not been discovered to cope with this problem. Certainly, charity, an ability to compromise, and unify-ing leadership are indispensable qualities in such situations. Without their presence, the praying community inevitably dissolves into factions. The spirituality outlined previously will also, as has been briefly men-tioned, have important consequences for the overall tone or mood which religious adopt in their lives. Religious have a meaning in the Church as an intense cell of vibrant Christian life. They are constantly seen in Church documents and in their own self-understandings in constitutions as signs of God's love working among men and of His grace operating in the hearts of all people. When documents state that religious witness to heavenly values, this implies that religious should show by their lives what faith in God can mean: hope, confidence, optimism in ultimate destinies; faith and charity in everyday concerns. Religious should be encouraged to develop these qualities and not to repress or bury their emotional aliveness. In moving away from an excessively obedience-centered approach, religious should thus replace it with a Christian life and spirituality centered on faith, love, hope in God and in ultimate realities, manifested in their love and service to mankind. These constitute the primary gospel values. More emphasis on these values, rather than on the more peripheral elements of religious life, should characterize a renewed religious life and spirituality. Prayer or Prayers Our remarks on spiritual exercises as a means to the goal of union in prayer have not addressed real issues which arise and merit special con-sideratioia. Mandated spiritu~l exercises have indeed disappeared almost entirely in some communities and lessened in number in nearly all. Even Eucharistic participation may occur on a private basis in many religious houses and communal prayer may occur only a few times weekly or perhaps less. These changes in regulations concerning prayers do not answer com-pletely a religious' concern for growth in prayer life, beyond any minimum set down by legal regulations or common agreement. The fact that daily Office in common or in private, common meditation, and spiritual reading are no longer enjoined by Rule, for example, does not settle the question for the individual religious. It may well be that the Spirit is moving the person to an exceptionally developed prayer life. An unexceptionable Christian challenge and calling is that of praying in, through, and with Jesus: How is this religious man or woman facing into this challenge? By escape and saying that practically all prayer forms are irrelevant? That spiritual reading, even of Sacred Scripture, fails to attract? That meditation in common is not necessary and yet, without the support of other praying Christians, I rarely pray reflectively at all? That daily Eucharist is not a necessity, so.I go once or twice weekly? A religious 1000 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 can argue any of these points or patterns of behavior and rightly claim that none of them is intrinsically necessary for a Christian life. This might well be the case in abstract terms. In the concrete, however, patterns of neglect in prayer and failure to grow vibrantly in the Christian life as a dedicated religious tie together more frequently than by sheer chance. That the person prays little can be the overall impression. Beyond one's protestations about personal prayerfulness in general, the individual religious and those who assist religious might inquire about the person's actual formal prayer, about those times when the religious places himself in God's presence and speaks, however non-verbally, or simply holds himself open to the Spirit's action. "My work is my prayer," in particular, seems a peculiarly sure way of not praying genuinely in the long run in a deep and constant fashion, if this laudable attitude is not accompanied by some periods of personal reflective prayer and communal sharing of prayerfulness in a limited way at least. Omission of specific prayers does not of itself constitute the reality termed mortal sin, in light of present-day understandings of the fundamental option theory. One would, in fact, be hard put to pin any label of sin on any given lack of praying some spiritual exercises. Yet the individual religious should ask himself constantly about his personal prayer life beyond any legal require-ments and explain to himself just how his life of prayer fits within his overall commitment to grow ever more deeply into the life pattern of the crucified and risen Lord, in contact with His Father and in service unreservedly of His brothers. Religious Consecration by Vow The suggested framework of Christian spirituality based on personal responsibility implies too that all considerations about the vows must touch on the value underlying each vow. The religious Rule' which formerly enshrined the value intended by the vow has usually changed these days beyond recognition. Poverty permissions have all but disappeared from many communities; religious may receive a monthly stipend and be com-pletely responsible for their own financing, especially in small group living. The tight restrictions surrounding and protecting chastity have changed: clothing, hairstyling and covering, use of cosmetics, freedom to associate and to form friendships with the other sex have much novelty about them. Coordinators in place of local superiors or local coresponsibility without any such individual authority have diffused the sense of obedience for many religious. The basic value underlying each vow must, therefore, be stressed in this changed atmosphere. Theologically, the vows relate to the religious' fundamental Christian calling and consecration in baptism, whereby the person enters into the mystery of Christ's death and rising to new life. Each evangelical vow furthers this initial commitment to growth in Christ. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 1001 The most basic value, then, will tie in with Christ-centeredness: that each vow should promote one's relationship with Christ. The vows will never be understood as implying hatred of the goods of this world, or of sexual intimacy, or of personal responsibility and freedom. Instead, poverty implies a liberating of energy, attention, and time from concentration on material welfare to imitate and become united to the poor Christ in His radical dependence on the Father. The value of chastity will not be just for ease or efficiency in the apostolate, or for avoidance of sexual arousal and union with another person. Rather, chastity as God's gift frees a person to give oneself over to God in love completely and to open oneself to all people, without centering one's love on one person sexually. The value accepted in obedience, finally, will be a basic sense of openness to the Spirit of Jesus, working where He will and particularly through the community. Religious consecration by vow thus implies a renunciation of self-fulfill-ment by material goods, sexual and loving involvement and union with one person, and fully autonomous behavior free of communal concerns. The person chooses to live his Christian response to God's call in more radical dependence on Him and in reaching for and living in the future, while enjoying the present. Only a constant striving for a deeper relation-ship and union with the Son in the death-life cycle of His self-emptying love can make possible this Christian vision. Religious have freely chosen these profound values which remain despite the removal of legal require-ments about the vows. Faithful to his religious calling, each religious must heed the call God addresses to him to live these values. Conclusion For all Christians and therefore for all religious, the challenge of Chris-tian spirituality entails responding personally in an open-ended fashion to God, avoiding satisfaction with the minimalism of merely "getting by," seeing life as love-centered, not sin-centered or law-centered, and establish-ing a personal relationship with Jesus by faithfulness to His Spirit at work in our hearts. Religi.ous men and women who live this kind of spirituality .certainly adopt an idealism which surpasses the ordinary. Yet this idealism embodies the rich heritage of the freeing message of the Good News: that through the liberating action of the Spirit of Jesus all His followers are enabled and urged to cry out Father and to spend themselves selflessly for others, in the image of Jesus. Now My Eye Sees Thee: The Bible as a Record of Religious Experience C. M. Cherian, S.J. Father Cherian, a professor of Sacred Scripture, lives at Vidya Jyoti; Delhi 6, India. This article first appeared in Clergy Monthly, March 1973, pages 90-100. It is re-printed here with the kind permission of the editor of Clergy Monthly. It is well known that, in pre-Vatican II scholastic theology, the reality of faith was conceived of as an intellectual assent to religious truths rather than a personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ. This conception is reflected in the description of faith given by the First Vatican Council. Faith is "a supernatural virtue by which we believe, with the inspiration and help of God's grace, that what He has revealed is true." Attention is directed to the particular truths that God has revealed, to the intellectual acceptance of these truths, not to God Himself or personal submission to Him who is Truth. And there is some emphasis on the obscurity and weakness of the perception involved. We believe "not be-cause we perceive the intrinsic truth of the things revealed, but because of the authority of God Himself who revealed them, and who can neither be deceived nor deceive." The impression created is that of some second-hand borrowed knowledge whose acceptance is "commanded" by our grace-supported will. Dangers of This Approach In such an approach there is the danger that faith-life may be thought of as being essentially and largely an intellect-and-will affair which does not necessarily involve a person in the experience of a direct relationship with God and of a new life in Him. The obscuring of the personalist aspect of faith in the minds of theologians and pastors had consequences for the religious instruction of the faithful. They were not sufficiently helped to The Bible and Religious Experience / 1003 understand their grace-life in personalistic and existential terms. The legacy of this old approach is still evident in the lives of the faithful, especially the more educated among them. They fight shy of a personal approach to God, and are incapable or distrustful of spontaneous personal prayer and of active involvement and sharing in common worship. Recently a group of educated Catholic young lay men and women, who were taking a course on the Psalms, told the present writer that several of them had serious difficulty about accepting personally the reality of God as Creator, Savior and Judge. The furthest they could go was to accept the message of Christ and give an intellectual assent to the Catholic doctrine about God. They frankly confessed that they had no personal experience of God. Still St. John says that what Christ, the Son of God, has done is to make the Father known (Jn 1:18). The grace of Christ consists in our receiving the adoption of sons and being enabled to say "Abba,.Father" to God (Gal 4:4). Neglect ot Personal Religious Experience A byproduct of the intellectual approach to the Christian faith was the almost complete neglect of the whole area of personal religious experience. Historically Catholics in the West could not agree with certain schools and theories of religious experience which represented an aberration from the truth, so far as they questioned either the validity of human reason or the certainty of objective Christian revelation. But this does not mean that anybody could repudiate the right kind of religious experience which is manifested and communicated everywhere in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures themselves, and in the Scriptures of other religions. The Scrip-tures are obviously the God-given guide to genuine religious experience, and, so far as they are inspired, they are God's instrument for the com-munication of the right kind of religious experience. The Workshop Handbook (Vol. I), published by the "All-India Seminar on the Church in India Today," contains some valuable insights into the question we are examining here. The Report of the Workshop on Spirituality points out that Christianity is essentially the handing down o[ the experience that Jesus Christ, the perfect Man, had o] God the Father and His love and plan. He communicated this experience to the Apostles. In them it took the form of a total personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ, the risen Lord, and a sensitivity to the leading and guidance of the Holy Spirit. All the external means and practices of the Church are directed towards enabling the faithful to personally appropriate the inner living experience of the risen Lord, which implies a total conversion. It is the personal religious experience of the prophets, Apostlesl and other holy men that was expressed in the words of the Scriptures and in liturgical and other formulas and in ritual actions. A fundamental pastoral problem consists in making 1004 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 sure that, while we are busily engaged in passing on the rites and the formulas, we also succeed in transmitting the inner personal experience that they are meant to express, the experience that can be summed up in such words as: "We have seen the Lord" (Jn 20:25; see 1:14) or "My Lord and my God" (Jn 20:28) or "Lord, You know that I love You" (Jn 21:17). Old Testament Data The Scriptures make it clear throughout that men are called to a life of personal intimacy with God. The Genesis story says that man is made in the image of God. This means that men are capable of personal com-munion with God and of being transformed info God's likeness, the likeness of His Son. It is sin that makes Adam want to hide himself from God. The work of redemption consists, therefore, in saving the lost and restoring them to that closeness to God for which they were created. Abraham and Jacob God appears to Abraham with the message: "1 am God Almighty; walk before Me and be blameless. I will make My covenant between Me and you . . .'" (Gen 17). Biblical religion consists essentially in this I-thou relationship, in men learning to conduct themselves in the presence of God. This is the secret of their holiness. It must mean that man stands in awe of the God of heaven and earth, is never deaf to His voice, is never unaware of the demands of His love and plan, and is never deliberately unfaithful to these demands. In Genesis 28 we see that Jacob's ambition and over-cleverness have landed him in deep trouble. He is obliged to flee Palestine to escape from his brother's wrath. He is terribly lonely and desolate. God's grace is .a.t work in this man-made crisis. God uses it in order to quicken Jacob's notional faith into a deeply personal faith. He has an experience of God being present, and addressing him, and renewing the promises made to his fathers, so that he exclaims: "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it" (Gen 28: 16). This statement is meant to express what is typical of man's condition. In the narratives about the appearances of the risen Lord to His disciples, we are repeatedly told that He was with them on various occasions, but at first they did not recognize Him (see Lk 24:16; Jn 20: 14; 21:4). The maturity of our faith consists in our becoming aware that the Lord cannot be absent, that He is savingly active here and now, and wants us to respond to Him. Moses and Elijah Moses has the task of leading and guiding God's people in the wilder-ness of Sinai. He is convinced that nothing but personal intimacy and familiarity with the Lord and constant consultation with Him can enable The Bible and Religious Experience / 1005 him to fulfil his arduous mission. Consequently his prayer is: "I pray You, if I have found favor in Your sight, show me now Your ways~ that I may know You . . . I pray You, show me Your glory . . ." (Exod 33). The Lord granted this prayer, and thus Moses was empowered to act as the leader of God's people: "The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend" (ibid.; see Num 12:8). Prophet Elijah had worked wonders in God's service. He brought about the utter defeat of the false priests of Baal, and the triumph of God's cause against idolatry. But he suddently becomes a prey to such serious depression as makes him want to die; he finds that God's cause is not making enough headway among the people as a whole, and his own life is in danger. In this crisis he is inspired to retire into the desert of Sinai. Here he has the exhilarating experience of an encounter with God. Through it he now understands what the tumultuous happenings of his prophetic ministry could not teach him. He hears the "still small voice" of God consoling him and reassuring him. He is so thoroughly renewed and strengthened by this experience of quiet communion with God that he is now fully ready for the new adventurous mission that God entrusts to him (1 Kgs 18-19). Job and Isaiah Job has been thrown completely off his balance by the series of disasters he suffered. He becomes "a fault-finder contending with the Almighty." He is full of complaints against God and His government of the world. He is ready to put God in the wrong that he himself might be justified. But finally he is completely transformed through having learned humbly to listen to God, and he receives enlightenment: "I have uttered what I did not under-stand . . . I had heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You. therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job 42). Job's conventional ideas about God and His providence have been changed into a personal experience of His mystery by which Job under-stands that "God cannot be called to account, and that His wisdom may give an .unsuspected meaning to such realities as suffering and death" (Jerusalem Bible, note). In the Jerusalem Temple Isaiah has an unexpected extraordinary experience of the all-holy God being present in all His glory. Th