Suchergebnisse

[SEPTEMBER 1896 - MAI 1906] [Anzeigen von Aufführungen des Landschaftlichen Theaters in Linz aus dem Vergnügungsanzeiger der "Tagespost" 1896-1927] (-) [September 1896 - Mai 1906] (1 / 1996 - Mai 1906) ( - ) Einband ( - ) I. Saison 1896 - 1897 (1.) 1. Zwei glückliche Tage. 2. Der Talisman. 3. Gebildete Menschen. (3.) 4. Das Bild der Signorelli. 5. Ein Rabenvater. 6. Die schöne Helena. (4.) 7. Die Zauberflöte. 8. Martha. 9. Die Schmetterlingsschlacht. (5.) 10. Martha. 11. Die Karlsschülerin. 12. Wettrennen. (6.) 13. Der Veilchenfreffer. 14. Der letzte Brief. 15. Carmen. 16. Der Meineidbauer. (7.) 17. Ouverture zur Oper "Mignon". Cavalleria rusticana. Ein Zündhölzchen zwischen zwei Feuer. 18. Die Orientreise. 19. Der Prophet. (8.) 20. Der Fechter von Ravenna. 21. Der Doppelhofbauer. 22. Der Widerspänstigen Zähmung. (9.) 23. Lolos Vater. 24. Die Hochzeit des Figaro. 25. Die Orientreise. (10.) 26. Dilettanten-Vorstellung. Eine Tasse Thee. 27. Yelva, die russische Waise. Die schöne Galathée. 28. Die Haubenlerche. (11.) 29. Circusleute. 30. Orpheus in der Unterwelt. 31. Circusleute. 32. Liebelei. (12.) 33. Aida. 34. Liebelei. Ein Zündhölzchen zweischen zwei Feuer. 35. Der Feldprediger. (13.) 36. Ein Böhm in Amerika. 37. Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor. 38. Die goldene Eva. (14.) 39. Wilhelm Tell. 40. Heimat. 41. Ein kecker Schnabel. (15.) 42. Der ledige Hof. 43. Othello, der Mohr von Venedig. 44. Der Evangelimann. 45. Die goldene Eva. (16.) 46. Trilby. 47. Die Zauberflöte. 48. Der Evangelimann. (17.) 49. Blaubart. 50. Der Heiratsschwindler. 51. Waldmeister. (18.) 52. Dinorah, oder: Die Wallfahrt nach Ploërmel. 53. Der Hüttenbesitzer (Le Maître de forges). 54. Mamsel Angot, die Tochter der Halle. (19.) 55. Der Nazi. 56. Das grobe Hemd. 57. Der Heiratsschwindler. 58. Die Zauberin am Stein. (20.) 59. Carmen. 60. Das grobe Hemd. 61. Die officielle Frau. 62. Aschenbrödel, oder: Der gläserne Pantoffel. (21.) 63. Der Richter von Zalamea. 64. Der Bajazzo (II Pagliacci). 65. Der Herr Ministerialdirector. 66. Des Meeres und der Liebe Wellen. (22.) 67. Die Jüdin von Toldeo. 68. Künstlernamen. 69. Tata-Toto. (23.) 70. Trilby-Parodie (Tripstrilby). Ein toller Tag, oder: Ein einsamer Spatz. 71. Der Herr Expositus. 72. Bocksprünge. (24.) 73. Jägerblut. 74. 's Lieserl von Schliersee. 75. Die Wildschützen. (25.) 76. Königskinder. (26.) 77. Die Kreuzelschreiber. (26.) II. Saison 1897 - 1898 (27.) 1. Kabale und Liebe. 2. Ernani. 3. Vasantasena. (29.) 4. Mignon. 5. Mit Vergnügen. 6. Dorf und Stadt. (30.) 7. Der Carneval in Rom. 8. Gefallene Engel. 9. Margarethe (Faust). (31.) 10. Die Leibrente. 11. Hans Huckebein. 12. Heimchen am Herd. (32.) 13. Heimchen am Herd. 14. Das Käthchen von Heilbronn oder Die Feuerprobe. 15. Der Waffenschmied von Worms. (33.) 16. Heirat auf Probe. Die Chansannette. 17. Das Tschaperl. 18. Der Freischütz. (34.) 19. Die versunkene Glocke. 20. Max und Moritz. 21. Der verwunschene Prinz. Der Präsident. (35.) 22. Die kleinen Lämmer (Schäfchen) (Les petites brebis.) 23. Der Alpenkönig und der Menschenfeind. 24. Die kleinen Lämmer (Schäfchen). (Les petites brebis.) Die Zaubergeige. (36.) 25. Goldene Herzen. 26. Romeo und Julia. 27. Der G'wissenswurm. (37.) 28. Hänsel und Gretel. 29. Eine tolle Nacht. 30. Der Postillon von Lonjumeau. (38.) 31. Frou-Frou. 32. Die Entführung aus dem Serail. 33. Andrea. (39.) 34. Die Entführung aus dem Serail. 35. Die Großherzogin von Gerolstein. 36. 's Katherl. (40.) 37. Wildfeuer. 38. Die Chansonnette. 39. Der Salontiroler. (41.) 40. Der Struwelpeter. 41. Von Cesar. 42. Der Schelm vom Kahlenberg. (42.) 43. Eine tolle Nacht. 44. Der Betrogene Kadi. Flotte Bursche. (42.) 45. Königskinder. 46. Anonyme Briefe. 47. Die wilde Jagd. (44.) 48. Ihr Corporal. 49. Anonyme Briefe. 50. Renaissance. (45.) 51. Der Schlagring. 52. Der Hergottschnitzer von Ammergau. (46.) III. Saison 1898 - 1899 (47.) 1. Die Logenbrüder. 2. Ein Blitzmädel. 3. Der Königslieutenant. (49.) 4. Minna von Barnhelm oder Das Soldatenglück. 5. Ein Judas von anno neun. (50.) 6. Der Traum ein Leben. 7. Der Barbier von Sevilla. 8. Circusleute. (51.) 9. Hofgunst. 10. Mädchentraum. 11. Lohengrin. (52.) 12. Im weißen Rössl. 13. Die Räuber. 14. Im weißen Rössl. (52.) 15. Der Opernball. 16. Die Walküre. (54.) 17. König Ottokars Glück und Ende. 18. König Ottokars Glück und Ende. (55.) 19. Die Walküre. 20. Einer von der Burgmusik. 21. Das Erbe. (56.) 22. Die Walküre. 23. Die Walküre. 24. Die Regimentstochter. Die Schulreiterin. (57.) 25. Mutter Erde. 26. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. (58.) 27. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. 28. Der Pariser Taugenichts. (59.) 29. Der Bibliothekar. 30. Der Vogelhändler. 31. Der Raub der Sabinerinnen. (60.) 32. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. 33. Hofgunst. (61.) 34. Doctor Wespe. 35. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. 36. Ein deutscher Krieger. (62.) 37. Lügenmäulchen und Wahrheitsmündchen. 38. Der Troubadour (Il Trovatore). 39. Der Opernball. 40. Robinsons Eiland. (63.) 41. Pariser leben. 42. Der Vogelhändler. 43. Fuhrmann Heuschel. (64.) 44. Die Walküre. 45. Fuhrmann Heuschel. 46. Mutter Erde. (65.) 66. Die Afrikanerin. 48. Waldmeister. 49. Kosmos. (66.) 50. Die zweite Frau (The Second Mrs. Tanqueray). 51. Der Schlafwagen-Controlor. (67.) 52. Die zärtlichen Verwandten. 53. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. (68.) 54. Die Afrikareise. 55. Die sieben Schwaben. 56. Flitterwochen. (69.) 57. Der Protzenbauer von Tegernsee. 58. 's Haberfeldtreiben. 59. Der Amerika-Seppl. (70.) 60. (Wohltätigkeits-Akademie im landschaftlichen Theater.) (71.) IV. Saison 1899 - 1900 (73.) 1. Das Heiratsnest. 2. Mauerblümchen. 3. Die lieben Kinder. (75.) 4. Mauerblümchen. 5. Die Journalisten. 6. Hans. (76.) 7. Der Troubadour. 8. Der Schlafwagen-Controlor. 9. Des Meeres und der Liebe Wellen. (77.) 10. Die Anna-Lise. 11. Die Jüdin. 12. Der lustige Krieg. (78.) 13. Faust. 14. Zaza. 15. Das vierte Gebot. (79.) 16. Zaza. 17. Undine. 18. Boccaccio. (80.) 19. Zaza. 20. Maria Stuart. (81.) 21. Tell. 22. 's Katherl. (82.) 23. Ewige Liebe. 24. Als ich wiederkam. 25. Hand und Herz. (83.) 26. Der Ring des Nibelungen. Das Rheingold. 27. Charleys Tante. (84.) 28. Hans. 29. Ungelöste Fragen. Des Löwen Erwachen. 30. Hoffmanns Erzählungen. (85.) 31. Der Ring des Nibelungen. Das Rheingold. 32. Hoffmanns Erzählungen. (86.) 33. Die Zauberflöte. 34. Der Ring der Nibelungen. Das Rheingold. (87.) 35. Der Bettelstudent. 36. Der Athlet. (88.) 37. Der kleine Zuckerbäcker. 38. Philippine Welser oder Die schöne Augsburgerin. 39. Cabale und Liebe. (89.) 40. Die Puppe. 41. Das Rheingold. (90.) 42. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. 43. Der Wildschütz. 44. Die Puppe. (91.) 45. Linzer Vereinsbrüder. 46. Das Rheingold. 47. Philemon und Baucis. (92.) 48. Der Sohn der Wildnis. 49. Der Freischütz. 50. Das Rheingold. (93.) 51. Schneewittchen und die Zwerge. 52. Goldfische. 53. Linzer Vereinsbrüder. (94.) 54. Der Evangelimann. 55. Die Puppe. 56. Die Geisha oder Die Geschichte eines japanischen Theehauses. (95.) 57. Die Kreuzelschreiber. 58. Othello. 59. Der Athlet. (96.) 60. Urania-Theater. 61. Der Mikado oder Ein Tag in Titipu. 62. Eine Musikstunde. La Sorpresa. - La Varietà. Sinfonia Cosmopolita. Ich heirate meine Tochter. (97.) 63. Eine ruhige Partei. Mansieur Herkules. Eine Musikstunde. - La Sorpresa. - Restaurant fin de sièole. - Sinfonia Cosmopolita. - Vorführung des Kinematographen (Bernardographen). 64. Die Puppe. 65. Der Freischütz. (98.) 66. Das fünfte Rad. 67. Des Meeres und der Liebe Wellen. 68. Der kleine Zuckerbäcker. (99.) 69. Frühling. 70. O diese Schwiegermütter. 71. Großstadtluft. (100.) 72. Zwei Wappen. 73. Um Haus und Hof. 74. Als ich wiederkam. (101.) 75. Dilettanten-Vorstellung. Lebende Bilder. Ehrung Bruckners. Aus der komischen Oper. Wiener Walzer. 76. 's Lieserl von Schliersee. (102.) 77. Almenrausch und Edelweiß. 78. D' Schatzgraber. (103.) V. Saison 1900 - 1901 (105.) 1. Gretes Glück. 2. Emilia Galotti. 3. Die Badesaison. (107.) 4. Festvorstellung. Ouverture zur Oper "Euryante". Der Kaisertag in Lohndorf. 5. Der Troubadour. (108.) 6. Abschied vom Regiment. Die Bildschnitzer. 7. Renaissance. (109.) 8. Prinz Methusalem. 9. Die Dame von Maxim. (110.) 10. Die Haubenlerche. 11. Der zerstreute Herr Professor. Unter falscher Flagge. 12. Die Jugend von heute. (111.) 13. Hamlet, Prinz von Dänemark. 14. Der Wunderknabe. 15. Die Verschwörung des Fiesco zu Genua. (112.) 16. Die Bildschnitzer. Cavalleria rusticana. 17. Wienerinnen. 18. Das vierte Gebot. (113.) 19. Der Barbier von Sevilla. 20. Eva. 21. Die Fledermaus. (114.) 22. Die sittliche Forderung. Die Bildschnitzer. Abschied vom Regiment. 23. Das Heimchen am Herd. 24. Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. (115.) 25. Die Prinzessin von Trapezunt. 26. Mutter Sorge. 27. Mutter Sorge. (116.) 28. Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. 29. Wienerinnen. (117.) 30. Der Freischütz. 31. Der Störenfried. 32. Eine reiche Frau. (118.) 33. Der Franzl. 34. Die Brautwerbung. (119.) 35. Flachsmann als Erzieher. 36. Die Stumme von Portici. 37. Flachsmann als Erzieher. (120.) 38. Donna Diana. 39. Wohltäter der Menschheit. 40. Die Landstreicher. (121.) 41. Linzer Drahrer. 42. Don Juan. 43. Das Glück im Winkel. (122.) 44. Rosenmontag. 45. Klein Rothkäppchen. (123.) 46. Der Verschwender. 47. Die Feldermaus. (124.) 48. Onkel Bräsig. 49. Die Landstreicher. (123. [125].) 50. Die Afrikanerin. 51. Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. (126.) 52. Flachsmann als Erzieher. 53. Donna Juanita. 54. Coralie & Cie (127.) 55. Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf der Wartburg. 56. Die Puppe. 57. Ein armes Mädel. (128.) 58. Franz Benus. 59. Gasparone. (129.) 60. Coralie & Cie. 61. Drei Paar Schuhe. (130.) 62. Josef Lanner. 63. Die versunkene Glocke. 64. Orpheus in der Unterwelt. (131.) 65. "Ein Blick in die Tiefen des Meeres" 66., 67. Urania 7./8. V. 68. Frou-Frou. (132.) 69. Renaissance. 70. Hedda Gabler. (133.) VI. Saison 1901 - 1902 (135.) 1. Die rothe Robe. 2. Die Unehrlichen. Zu Befehl, Herr Lieutenant! 3. Die Herren Söhne. (137.) 4. Ein Fallissement. 5. Der Bettelstudent. (138.) 6. Lohengrin. 7. Die berühmte Frau. 8. Die Herren Söhne. (139.) 9. Der Schmetterling. 10. Die Zwillingsschwester. 11. Leontines Ehemänner (Les Maris de Leontine.) (140.) 12. Noth kennt kein Gebot. 13. Undine. 14. Der Freischütz. (141.) 15. Zwei glückliche Tage. 16. Der Hypochonder. 17. Der Evangelimann. (142.) 18. Der letzte Kreuzer. 19. Der Troubadour. 20. Maria Stuart. (143.) 21. Figaros Hochzeit. 22. Der neue Simson. 23. Leontines Ehemänner. (144.) 24. Rübezahl. 25. Der Krampus. 26. Der Ring des Nibelungen. Siegfried. (145.) 27. Ein toller Einfall. 28. Don Carlos. Infant von Spanien. 29. Der Jourfix. (146.) 30. Orpheus in der Unterwelt. 31. "Ein "braver" Ehemann oder Drah'n ma um und drah'n ma auf". 32. Der Opernball. (147.) 33. Bruder Martin. 34. Zu Befehl, Herr Lieutenant. Zwischen zwei Feuer. Ein Stündchen auf dem Comptoir. 35. Sein Doppelgänger. (148.) 36. Der Ring des Nibelungen. Die Walküre. 37. Im Zeichen des Kreuzes. 38. Czar und Zimmermann. (149.) 39. Der Star. 40. Goldfische. 41. Das süße Mädel. (150.) 42. Cavalleria rusticana. Der Bajazzo. 43. Kean oder Genie und Leidenschaft. (151.) 44. Mignon. (152.) 45. Liselott' 46. Galeotto. (153.) 47. Das süße Mädel. 48. Am Nikolotage. (154.) 49. Die Jüdin. 50. Die Schneeflocke. Liebelei. 51. (155.) 52. Alt-Heidelberg. 53. Der fliegende Holländer. (156.) 54. Marie oder Die Regimentstochter. 55. Die Landstreicher. (157.) 56. Die drei Wünsche. 57. Fra Diavolo. (158.) 58. Hänsel und Gretel. 59. Der Ring des Nibelungen. Das Rheingold. (159.) 60. Carmen. 61. Die Großstadtluft. 62. Die drei Wünsche. (160.) 63. Der Sängerkrieg auf der Wartburg. 64. Der Kaufmann von Venedig. (161.) 65. Der lustige Kuchelbäcker oder Der Mehlspeismacher Zweckerl oder: Ein Freund in der Noth. Hedwig, die Banditenbraut. Der Dorfbarbier. (162.) 66. Große musikalische Akademie. Franz Stelzhamer. Ballet-Vorstellung. Die Zaubergeige. Der Veilchentreffer. Die Feldermaus. Die Walküre. Der Sohn der Wildnis. (163.) 67. Der kleine Lord. Mein neuer Hut. 68. Das Mädel mit Talent. (164.) 69. Der Carneval in Rom. 70. Der kleine Mann. (165.) 71. Der Waldmeister. 72. Das süße Mädel. 73. Johannisfeuer. (166.) 74. Der Feldprediger. 75. Der Obersteiger. 76. Bürgermeister Bojer. (167.) 77. Weh' dem, der lügt! 78. Die goldene Eva. 79. Die schöne Millibäuerin vom Tegernsee. (168.) 80. Der Dorfbader. (169.) 81. Wiener Humor. Ein pensionierter Amstdiener. Vierzehn Tage im Arrest. Linzer Firmlinge. 82. Die Z'widerwurz'n. (170.) 83. Nora oder Ein Puppenheim. 84. Die Schulreiterin. (171.) Oleander und Angelmunde. (uncounted.) VII. Saison 1902 - 1903 (173.) Vom landschaftl. Theater in Linz. 1902. (175.) 1. Die Nibelungen. Der gehörnte Siegfried. Siegfrieds Tod. 2. Die Nibelungen. Kriemhilds Rache. (176.) 3. Die Zwillingsschwester. 4. Der Vogelhändler. 5. Aida. (177.) 6. Das Stiftungsfest. 7. Die Hochzeit von Valeni. 8. Der Freischütz. (178.) 9. Die Schmetterlingsschlacht. 10. Krieg im Frieden. 11. Aida. (179.) 12. Die Hoffnung. 13. Alt-Heidelberg. (180.) 14. Heilmar. 15. Die Ahnfrau. (181.) 16. Der Opernball. 17. Der Probekandidat. 18. Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor. (182.) 19. Boccaccio. 20. Der Kreuzwegstürmer. (183.) 21. Der Burengeneral. 22. Mignon. 23. Im bunten Rock. (184.) 24. Stelzhamer-Feier. 25. Die drei Wünsche. 26. Das süße Mädel. (185.) 27. Im bunten Rock. 28. Martha, oder Der Markt zu Richmond. 29. Philippine Welser. (186.) 30. Madame Sans-Gêne. 31. Das Krippenspiel von der glorreichen Geburt unseres Heilands. (187.) 32. Die Geisha oder die Geschichte eines japanischen Teehauses. 33. Ein Ehrenwort. 34. Das Aschenbrödel. (188.) 35. Die Puppe. 36. Norma. 37. Es lebe das Leben. (189.) 38. Der liebe Schatz. 39. Der Trompeter von Säkkingen. 40. Der Sängerkrieg auf der Wartburg. (190.) 41. Die Logenbücher. 42. Othello. 43. Der Waldmeister. (191.) 44. Die Einquartierung. 45. Othello. 46. Hofgunst. (192.) 47. Francillon. 48. Monna Vanna. 49. Der Gottlose. (193.) 50. Zehn Mädchen und kein Mann. 51. Die Puppenfee. 52. Rigoletto. 53. Der Probepfeil. (194.) 54. Die Afrikanerin. 55. Johannisfeuer. 56. Die versunkene Glocke. 57. Familie Schneck. (195.) 58. Angot, die Tochter der Halle. 59. Der Maskenball. (196.) 60. Hutmacher und Strumpfwirker oder Die Ahnfrau im Gemeindestadel. 61. Cosi fan tutte oder Die Schule der Liebenden. 62. Das große Licht. 63. Alessandro Stradella. (197.) 64. Die Wildente. 65. Der Pfarrer von Kirchfeld. 66. Die schöne Galathée. (198.) 67. Anno neun. Feenhände. 68. Stephan Fadinger. (199.) 69. Der Erbförster. 70. Bessere Menschen. Die Tochter. Zweierlei Tuch. 71. Jugend. (200.) 72. Der arme Heinrich. (201.) VIII. Saison 1903 - 1904 (203.) Theaternachricht. (203.) 1. Der blinde Passagier. 2. Der arme Jonathan. (204.) 3. Habsburg. 4. Lutti. 5. Der Rastelbinder. (205.) 6. Margarete. (Faust.) 7. Der Postillon von Lonjumeau. (206.) 8. Egmont. 9. Der Hochtourist. (207.) 10. Die Hugenotten. 11. Nacht und Morgen. (208.) 12. Nacht und Morgen. 13. Das Ewig-Weibliche. 14. Der Rastelbinder. 15. Cavalleria rusticana. Der Bajazzo. (209.) 16. Die Jugend von heute. 17. Der Kellermeister. (210.) 18. Wiener Blut. 19. Der Verschwender. 20. Der Strom. (211.) 21. Der Meineidbauer. 22. Götterdämmerung. (212.) 23. Der Herr Gemeinderat. 24. Die weiße Dame. 25. Die Tragödie des Menschen. (213.) 26. Die Tyrannei der Tränen. 27. Barfüßchen oder Die drei Männlein im Walde. (214.) 28. Der Kaufmann von Venedig. 29. Carmen. 30. Bruder Straubinger. (215.) 31. Queretaro. 32. Festvorstellung (216.) 33. Die Fee Caprice. 34. Robert der Teufel. 35. Sodoms Ende. (217.) 38. Der polnische Jude. 36. Der zündende Funke. (218.) 37. Er und seine Schwester. 39. Boccaccio. 40. Die schöne Helena. (219.) 41. Drei Paar Schuhe. 42. Frühlingslust. 43. Heißes Blut. (220.) 44. Figaros Hochzeit. 45. Zapfenstreich. (221.) 46. Die Einquartierung (Le billet de logement). 47. Die Journalisten. (222.) 48. Unter vier Augen. Der verwunschene Prinz. 49. Der Evangelimann. (223.) 50. Die Heimat. 51. Wiener Frauen. 52. Die Notbrücke. (224.) 53. Tonietta. 54. Bruder Straubinger. 55. Monna Vanna. (225.) 56. Seine Kammerjungfer. 57. Die Jakobsleiter. 58. Der Raub der Sabinerinnen. (226.) 59. Die Landstreicher. 60. Die Freunde. (227.) 61. Die drei Wünsche. 62. Zaza. (228.) 63. Fromont jun. und Risler sen. 64. Comtesse Guckerl. 65. Servus, Brzezina oder Indien in Wien. (229.) 66. Die tote Stadt. (230.) 67. Der Damenkrieg. (231.) Frühlingsluft. (232.) Pater Jakob. (233.) IX. Saison 1904 - 1905 (235.) Die Theaterspielzeit 1904/1905 wird von der Direktion Oskar Schramm und Karl Wallner am Samstag den 24. September mit der Neuheit "Der Meister", Komödie in drei Akten von Hermann Bahr, eröffnet werden. (235.) 1. Der Meister. 2. Der Veilchenfreffer. 3. Fidelio. (236.) 4. König Ottokars Glück und Ende. 5. Rose Bernd. 6. Orpheus in der Unterwelt. (237.) 7. Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf der Wartburg. 8. Das Veilchenmädel. 9. Wilhelm Tell. (238.) 10. Familie Schimek. 11. Zar und Zimmermann. (239.) 12. Die Glocken von Corneville. 13. Traviata. (240.) 14. Die 300 Tage. 15. s' Franzerl. (241.) 16. Götz von Berlichingen. (242.) 17. In der Sommerfrisch'n. (243.) 18. Cyrano von Bergerac. (243.) 19. Götz von Berlichingen. 20. Madame Sherry. 21. Die Ehre. (244.) 22. Ariel Acosta. 23. Madame Sherry. 24. Rosenmontag. (245.) 25. Fedora. 26. Der Wildschütz. 27. Die drei Tannen. (246.) 28. Rienzi der letzte der Tribunen. 29. Der Familientag. (247.) 30. Doktor Klaus. 31. Der Zigeunerbaron. 32. Bartel Turaser. (248.) 33. Traumulus. 34. Rienzi, der letzte der Tribunen. (249.) 35. Narciß. 36. Jung-Heidelberg. 37. Hänsel und Gretel. (250.) 38. Cavalleria rusticana. Bajazzo. 39. Pater Jakob. 40. Der Schlafwagen-Kontrollor. (251.) 41. Gyges und sein Ring. 42. Die Zauberflöte. 43. Die Herren Söhne. 44. Nachtasyl. (252.) 45. Der Evangelimann. 46. Maskerade. 47. Hoffmanns Erzählungen. (253.) 48. Zwei Wappen. 49. Der selige Toupinel. 50. Carmen. (254.) 51. Der Fremdenführer. 52. Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor. (255.) 53. Im weißen Rößl. 54. Die Gigerln von Wien. 55. Hoffmanns Erzählungen. (256.) 56. Fatinitza. 57. Der Trompeter von Säkkingen. 58. Wilhelm Tell. (257.) 59. Der Bann. 60. Des Teufels Antheil. (258.) 61. Turandot. (259.) 62. Die Zerstörung Trojas. (259.) Prinz Rosenroth und Prinzessin Lilienweiß oder Die bezauberte Lilie. Feenliebe und Ritterdumm oder Die beleidigte Rebelrose. (uncounted.) Ein Lustspiel. Die Dienstboten. (260.) X. Saison 1905 - 1906 (261.) Die Theaterspielzeit 1905/1906 wird von der Direktion Oskar Schramm und Karl Wallner am Samstag den 23. September mit dem Schauspiel "Morituri" von Hermann Sudermann eröffnet werden. (261.) 1. Morituri. 2. Cyprienne. (262.) 3. Ein nasses Abenteuer. 4. Figaros Hochzeit. (263.) 5. Maria Theresia. 6. Der Generalkonsul. 7. Helden. (264.) 8. Der Waffenschmied. 9. Prinz Methusalem. 10. Marie oder die Tochter des Regiments. 11. Ein Sommernachtstraum. (265.) 12. Orpheus in der Unterwelt. 13. Der Kilometerfresser. 14. Das Wäschermädel. (266.) 15. Die Ahnfrau. 16. Margarete (Faust). 17. Wiener Blut. (267.) 18. Die Jungfrau von Orleans. 19. Bruder Straubinger. (268.) 20. Wiener Blut. 21. Klein Dorrit. 22. Nora oder: Ein Puppenheim. (269.) 23. "Pufferl." 24. Die große Leidenschaft. (270.) 15. Pufferl. 26. "Pufferl." 27. Kettenglieder. (271.) 28. Am Tage des Gerichts. 29. Hans Heiling. (272.) 30. Die Brüder von St. Bernhard. 31. Hänsel und Gretel. 32. Die Schützenliesel. (273.) 33. Der Schwur der Treue. 34. Das süße Mädel. 35. Gummiradler. (274.) 36. Ninon von Lenclos. 37. Rigoletto. (275.) 38. Die Hugenotten. 39. Der Privatdozent. 40. Die Hochzeit von Valeni. (276.) 41. Frühlingsluft. 42. Johann Philipp Palm. (277.) 43. Die dritte Eskadron. 44. Der Barbier von Sevilla. 45. Gunther der Minnesänger. (278.) 46. Romeo und Julia. 47. Der Fall Clemenceau. 48. Das verwunschene Schloß. (279.) 49. Die Brüder von St. Bernhard. 50. Die Weber. (280.) 51. Josef und seine Brüder in Egypten. 52. Das Heiratsnest. (281.) 53. Die Logenbrüder. 54. Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor. 55. Mamselle Tourbillon. (282.) 56. Die Sittennote. 57. Die neugierigen Frauen. (283.) 58. Giroflé-Girofla 59. Carmen. (284.) 60. Der Meineidbauer. 61. Moschus. (285.) 62. Der Schätzmeister. 63. Genußmenschen. Die Sirene. Satisfaktion. (286.) 64. Das Käthchen von Heilbronn oder: Die Feuerprobe. 65. Drei Erlebnisse eines englischen Detektivs. (287.) 66. Die Schützenliesel. 67. Flachsmann als Erzieher. (288.) 68. Deutsche Bauern. (289.) Jubiläums-Wohltätigkeitsfest. (289.) Rückblick auf die Opernvorstellungen von 1896 angefangen. (291.) Einband (uncounted.) Einband (uncounted.)

LEIBNIZ UND SEINE SCHULE [2. BAND] Geschichte der neuern Philosophie (-) Leibniz und seine Schule [2. Band] (2,2 / 1867) ( - ) Einband ( - ) Geschichte der neuern Philosophie ([I]) Vorrede zur zweiten Auflage. ([III]) Vorrede zur ersten Auflage. (VI) Inhaltsverzeichniß ([XVII]) Erstes Buch. Leibniz' Leben und Schriften. ([XVII]) Zweites Buch. Leibniz' Lehre. (XXVI) Drittes Buch. Leibniz' Schule. Die Entwicklungsstufen der deutschen Aufklärung. (XXXVI) Erstes Buch. Leibniz' Leben und Schriften. ([1]) Erstes Capitel. Leibniz' Persönlichkeit ([3]) I. Spinoza und Leibniz. ([3]) II. Leibnizens universalistische Aufgabe. (4) 1. Endursachen und wirkende Ursachen (5) 2. Universalphilosophie. (6) 3. Universalreligion. (7) 4. Universalpolitik. (10) 5. Wissenschaftliches Universalgenie. (15) 6. Universum der Wissenschaften. (17) a. Bibliotheken und Akademien. (17) b. Allgemeine Charakteristik (Universalschrift). (19) III. Persönliche Charakterzüge (22) 1. Erfinderische Selbstbelehrung. (22) 2. Der kritische Mangel. Abneigung gegen Polemik. (22) 3. Toleranz. Abneigung gegen den Sectengeist (24) 4. Gemüthsheiterkeit (26) 5. Eigennützige Regungen. (27) 6. Zerstreute und vielgeschäftige Thätigkeit. (28) 7. Heroische Arbeitskraft. (31) IV. Die deutsche Aufklärung. (32) 1. Leibniz und Kant. (32) 2. Leibniz und Lessing. (34) Zweites Capitel. Biographische Quellen. Erstes Lebensalter. Familie, Erziehung, Schule. 1646 - 1661. ([37]) I. Die biographischen Quellen. ([37]) II. Erstes Lebensalter. (41) 1. Abstammung und Familie. (41) 2. Die ersten Eindrücke. (43) 3. Die erste Lectüre des Livius (44) 4. Die väterliche Bibliothek. (46) 5. Selbstbildung. Lectüre der Alten. (47) 6. Poetische Uebungen. (49) 7. Studium der Logik. (50) 8. Das Gedankenalphabet und die Gedankenschrift (53) 9. Scholastik und Theologie. (57) Drittes Capitel. Die akademischen Jahre. 1661 - 1666 ([59]) I. Der akademische Bildungsgang. ([59]) 1. Jacob Thomasius (60) 2. Die neue Philosophie. Descartes. (60) 3. Mathematische Studien. Erhard Weigl. (62) 4. Juristische Studien. (65) 5. Bewerbung in Leipzig um die juristische Doctorwürde. (68) 6. Die Promotion in Altdorf. (70) 7. Nürnberg. Die Rosenkreuzer. (72) II. Die ersten Schriften. (73) 1. De principio individui. (74) 2. Specimen difficultatis in jure. (75) 3. De arte combinatoria. (76) 4. De conditionibus. (77) 5. De casibus perplexis. (78) 6. Nova methodus. (78) Viertes Capitel. Leibniz in Mainz. Amtliche Stellung. Philosophische Schriften. ([80]) I. Johann Christian von Boineburg. ([80]) 1. Boineburgs Laufbahn und Stellung (81) 2. Politische Bedeutung. (82) 3. Sturz und Wiederherstellung. (85) II. Johann Philipp von Schönborn. (87) III. Leibnizens amtliche Stellung. (88) IV. Philosophische Schriften. (90) 1. Standpunkt. (90) 2. Bekenntniß der Natur gegen die Atheisten (92) 3. Brief an Jacob Thomasius (94) 4. Vertheidigung der Trinität gegen Wissowatius (96) 5. Ueber die philosophische Schreibart des Marius Rizolius. (99) 6. Neue physikalische Hypothese (105) Fünftes Capitel. Die politischen Schriften der mainzischen Periode. Die polnische Königswahl. Die Sicherheit des deutschen Reichs. 1669. 1670. ([107]) I. Denkschrift zur polnischen Königswahl. (108) 1. Geschichtlicher Anlaß. (108) 2. Abfassung und Methode der Schrift. (109) 3. Analyse des Inhalts. (110) 4. Das deutsche Interesse. (114) II. Die Sicherheit des deutschen Reichs. (117) 1. Geschichtliche Lage und Zeitpunkt der Denkschrift. (117) 2. Mittel der Sicherstellung. (118) 3. Gesammtunion. (119) 4.Particularunion. (121) 5. Verhältniß zur Tripelallianz. (122) 6. Der neue Rheinbund. (125) 7. Deutschland und Europa. (126) 8. Wegnahme Lothringens. Der neue Krieg. (127) 9. Frankreichs europäische Stellung. (128) 10. Frankreichs schiedsrichterliche Machtstellung. (130) 11. Krieg gegen Holland. (131) 12. Uebergang zur nächsten Denkschrift. (133) Sechtes Capitel. Plan der Französischen Expedition nach Aegypten. Leibniz' Reise nach Paris. 1672. ([135]) I. Enststehung und Geschichte des Plans. ([135]) 1. Die orientalische Frage im 17. Jahrhundert. (136) 2. Der Zeitpunkt des Vorschlags. (138) 3. Die Reise nach Paris. Ungewisse Lage. (139) 4. Die Denkschriften. Fehlschlagen des Plans. (140) 5. Nachheriges Dunkel. (141) 6. Leibniz und Napoleon. (142) 7. Die leibnizischen Denkschriften in England und Frankreich. (143) 8. Berührungspunkte zwischen dem leibnizischen Plan und der napoleonischen Expedition. (144) 9. Neue Irrthümer und Aufklärung. (145) II. Die Denkschrift. (147) Siebentes Capitel. Aufenthalt in Paris und London. 1672-1676. ([154]) I. Geschäfte für Mainz und Boineburg. ([154]) 1. Gesandtschaft nach London. ([154]) 2. Boineburgs Forderungen. (156) 3. Leitung des jungen Boineburg. (157) II. Wissenschaftliche Studien. (159) 1. Französische Sprache und Mathematik. (159) 2. Mechanische Erfindungen. Rechnenmaschine. (160) 3. Differentialrechnung. (161) 4. Streit zwischen Newton und Leipniz. (163) III. Rückkehr nach Deutschland. (168) Achtes Capitel. Leibniz in Hannover. Die Geschichte seiner hannöver'schen Lebensperiode, namentlich in politischer Hinsicht. 1676-1716 ([169]) I. Berufung nach Hannover. ([169]) 1. Habbeus von Lichtenstern. ([169]) 2. Briefwechsel mit dem Herzog. (170) II. Das Welfenhaus. (172) 1. Wolfenbüttel. Hannover. Celle. (172) 2. Johann Friedrich. (173) 3. Ernst August. (175) a. Die Primogenitur. (175) b) Hannover - Celle. (176) c) Genealogische Interessen. (178) d) Hannover - Brandenburg. (178) e) Die Kurwürde. Das Reichsbanner. (179) 4. Emglische Thronfolge. (180) III. Leibnizens Doppelstellungen. (181) 1. Hannover und Wolfenbüttel. (181) 2. Verhältnis zu Peter dem Großen. (182) 3. Hannover und Berlin. Die beiden Kurfürstinnen. (182) IV. Stellung zu Kaiser und Reich. (185) 1. Die europäischen Kriege. (185) 2. Die Kriege mit Ludwig XIV. (186) 3. Leibniz als Gegner der französischen Politik. (187) 4. Der erste Reichskrieg. (188) 5. Das System der französischen Reunion (189) 6. Das Pamphlet gegen Ludwig XIV (190) 7. Der zweite Reichskrieg. Das französiche und kaiserliche Kriegsmanifest. (191) 8. Das neue Jahrhundert. (193) 9. Der spanische Erbfolgekrieg. (196) 10.Leibniz gegen die französisch-spanische Partei. Das Manifest für Karl III. (198) 11. Schrift gegen den Frieden von Utrecht. (199) 12. Schrift gegen den Frieden von Rastadt. (200) 13. Die hannöver'sche Successionsfrage. Ker von Kersland. (201) 14. Die Wiener Pläne. Akademie. Rückkehr nach Hannover. (202) Neuntes Capitel. Politische Schriften der hannöverschen Periode. Geologische und historische Arbeiten. Reise nach Italien. ([204]) I. Caesarinus Furstenerius. (205) 1. Die Streitfrage. (205) 2. Souveränetät. (207) 3. Kurfürsten und Reichsfürsten. (208) 4. Deutsche und italienische Fürsten. (Braunschweig-Este) (209) II. Marschristianissimus (211) 1. Zeitpunkt und Anlaß. (211) 2. Die neufranzösische Politik. (212) 2. [3.] Die göttliche Machtvollkommenheit und Sendung Ludwigs XIV. (213) 4. Der Katholicismus Ludwigs XIV. (216) 5. Die Gallo-Grecs (217) III. Nationalökonomische und geologische Interessen. (220) IV. Geologische und historische Arbeiten. (222) 1. Reise nach Italien. (222) 2. Protogäa. (225) 3. Coder des Völkerrechts. (225) 4. Sammlung mittelalterlicher Geschichtsquellen. (226) 5. Geschichte Braunschweigs. (226) Zehntes Capitel. Die Wiederherstellung der allgemeinen Kirche. Reunionsversuche. ([228]) I. Die Reunionsidee. ([228]) 1. Die mainzischen Pläne. Leibnizens theologische Demonstrationen. ([228]) 2. Politisch-kirchliche Reunionsinteressen. (231) 3. Royas de Spinola. (232) 4. Der hannöversche Hof. Die Herzogin Sophie. (233) 5. Die Abtei von Maubuisson. (234) 6. Bossuet und Pellisson. (236) 7. Maubuisson und Hannover. (237) II. Reunionsverhandlungen. (238) 1. Bossuet's Glaubenslehre. (238) 2. Die hannöversche Conferenz. Molanus und die helmstädter Theologen. (239) 3. Die Jahre der Annäherung. (240) 4. Systema theologicum. (241) 5. Leibniz und der Landgraf von Hessen-Rheinfels. (243) 6. Leibniz und Pellisson. (247) 7. Bossuet und Molanus. (249) 8. Leibniz und Bossuet. (250) Elftes Capitel. Unionsbestrebungen. Societät der Wissenschaften. Die letzten Jahre des Philosophen. Die philosophischen Schriften. ([259]) I. Die Unionsidee. ([259]) 1. Die politische Zeitlage. ([259]) 2. Das Toleranzsystem in Brandenburg. (261) 3. Leibniz' Plan. (263) 4. Jablonski. Leibniz und Molanus. (263) 5. Hannöversche Conferenz. Leibniz und Jablonski. (264) 6. Das collegium irenicum in Berlin. (266) 7. Unionshindernisse. (266) 8. Leibniz' Verhältniß zu den kirchlichen Zeitfragen (Theodicee). (268) II. Societät der Wissenschaften. (270) 1. Veranlassung. (270) 2. Stiftung und Fortgang. (271) III. Die letzten Jahre. (274) 1. Tod der Königin. (274) 2. Letzter Aufenthalt in Berlin. (275) 3. Letzte Zeit in Hannover. Krankheit und Tod. (276) IV. Schilderung seiner Person. (278) Zwölftes Capitel. Die schriftliche Ausbildung der leibnizischen Lehre. ([283]) I. Die philosophischen Hauptschriften. ([283]) 1. Entwicklungsgang des Systems. ([283]) 2. Die Entwicklungsperioden. (286) 3. Vorbereitende Schriften aus der Zeit vor 1690. (287) 4. Grundzüge und Entwürfe (1690-1700). Das neue Natursystem. (288) 5. Ausführung und Zusammenfassung des Systems (1700-1716). Die neuen Versuche. Theodicee. Monadologie. (293) II. Ausgaben. (299) Zweites Buch. Leibniz' Lehre. ([301]) Erstes Capitel. Der neue Begriff der Substanz. ([303]) I. Die Untersuchung des bisherigen Grundbegriffs. ([303]) 1. Der Gegensatz von Denken und Ausdehnung. ([303]) 2. Die Probe der Thatsachen. (304) 3. Die widersprechende Thatsache. (305) II. Der Begriff der Kraft. (307) 1. Die Kraft als metaphysisches Prinzip. (307) 2. Die Kraft als Substanz (Identitätsprincip). (311) 3. Die Vielheit der Kräfte. (314) 4. Die Kraft als thätiges Wesen, als einzelne Substanz. (315) III. Das Princip der Individualität oder Monade. (317) 1. Individuation und Specification. (317) 2. Einheiten. Punkte. Atome. (319) 3. Substantielle Formen. Monaden. (322) Zweites Capitel. Die leibnizische Lehre in ihren Verhältnissen zur früheren Philisophie. ([325]) I. Leibniz und die Systeme der cartesianischen Schule. (327) 1. Spinoza und das Prinzip der All-Einheit. (327) 2. Descartes und die Occasionalisten. (333) II. Die materialistische und formalistische Richtung. (336) 1. Corpuscularphilosophen und Atomisten. (336) 2. Rehabilitation der antiken Philosophie. (337) 3. Die Scholastiker. (339) 4. Aristoteles und Plato. (345) III. Die leibnizische Philosophie als Universalsystem. (346) Drittes Capitel. Die Grundfrage der leibnizischen Philosophie. Die Monade als Princip der Materie und Form. ([350]) I. Die Kräfte der Monade als Bedingung der Natur. ([350]) 1. Das Problem. ([350]) 2. Die Kraft der Ausschließung. (353) 3. Thätige und leidende Kraft. (355) II. Die leidende Kraft als Princip der Materie. (355) 1. Materia prima und secunda. (355) 2. Die bewegte Materie. (362) 3. Maschine. (363) 4. Mechanische Causalität. (364) III. Die thätige Kraft als Princip der Form. (366) 1. Entelechia prima. (366) 2. Die formgebende Kraft. (368) 3. Seele und Leben. (370) 4. Zweckthätige Causalität. (371) IV. Wirkende Ursachen und Endursachen. (371) Viertes Capitel. Die Lösung der Grundfrage. Die Monade als Einheit von Seele und Körper. ([375]) I. Das Verhältnis von Seele und Körper. ([375]) 1. Metapysische Bedeutung der Frage. ([375]) 2. Der richtige Gesichtspunkt. (376) 3. Die Einwürfe. (377) II. Das Verhältnis von Seele und Körper im Widerspruch mit dem Begriff der Monade. (379) 1. Erklärung aus Leibniz' Lehrart (379) 2. Substantia completa. (381) 3. Harmonia praestabilita. (382) 4. Vinculum substantiale. (387) III. Das Verhältnis von Seele und Körper im Einklange mit dem Begriff der Monade. (389) 1. Die Seele als Zweck des Körpers. (390) 2. Der Körper als Mittel der Seele. (393) 3. Die Monade als Entwicklung des Individuums. (395) IV. Das Verhältnis der Endursachen und der wirkenden Ursachen. (398) 1. Vereinigung beider. (398) 2. Die Art der Bereinigung. (399) 3. Die oberste Geltung des Zweckbegriffs. (401) Fünftes Capitel. Die Monade als Entwicklung. ([403]) I. Die ursprünglichen Kräfte. (404) 1. Die Ewigkeit der Naturkräfte. Schöpfung und Vernichtung. (404) 2. Die constante Größe aller bewegenden Kräfte. Das Kräftemaß. (Leibniz und Descartes.) (406) 3. Die allgegenwärtigen Kräfte. Weder Vacuum noch Chaos. (413) II. Das ursprüngliche Leben. (414) 1. Die Individualität des beseelten Körpers. Keine Metempsychose. (414) 2. Der Ursprung der Seelen und Formen. Weder Eduction noch Traduction. (415) 3. Der Ursprung des Lebens. Keine generatio aequivoca. Die Präformation. (417) 4. Die ursprünglichen Individuen oder Samenthiere. (419) III. Der ewige Lebensproceß. (420) 1. Metamorphose. (Präformation und Transformation.) (420) 2. Geburt und Tod. (422) 3. Das unsterbliche Leben. Natürliche und moralische Unsterblichkeit. (424) 4. Leben = Entwicklung. Begriff der Entwicklung. (430) 5. Entwicklung = Vorstellung. (434) Sechstes Capitel. Die Monade als Vorstellung. ([438]) I. Die Vorstellung in den Dingen. (441) 1. Vorstellung (Perception). (441) 2. Streben. (Appetition.) (444) II. Die Vorstellung im Menschen. Analogie der Dinge. (446) III. Die Monade als Mikrokosmus. (450) 1. Individuum und Welt. (450) 2. Der Weltzusammenhang. (452) 3. Die Weltvorstellung. (454) Siebentes Capitel. Die Körperwelt. ([457]) I. Die verschiedenen Mikrokosmen. (458) II. Die Körper als Vorstellung oder "phaenomena bene fundata". (461) 1. Die beschränkte Vorstellung. (461) 2. Der Körper als nothwendige Vorstellung. (463) 3. Die verworrene und deutliche Vorstellung des Körpers. (468) III. Die Unterschiede der Vorstellung. (471) 1. Der Gradunterschied. (471) 2. Die niedern und höhern Monaden. Wachsende und gleichmäßige Vollkommenheit. (474) 3. Die niedern und höhern Organismen. Centralmonaden. (478) 4. Organische und unorganische Körper. (482) Achtes Capitel. Das Stufenreich der DInge oder die Weltharmonie. ([485]) I. Die Hauptstufen der vorstellenden Kräfte. ([485]) 1. Unterschied zwischen Leibniz und Aristoteles. ([485]) 2. Leben, Seele, Geist. (486) 3. Dunkle, klare, deutliche Vorstellung. (489) 4. Dunkles Bewußtsein. (491) II. Das Gesetz der Analogie und Continuität. (493) 1. Die Mittelwesen. (493) 2. Der Mensch als Mittelwesen. (Die Genien.) (496) III. Das Gesetz der Harmonie. (500) 1. Identität und Harmonie. Unterschied zwischen Spinoza und Leibniz. (500) 2. Die Harmonie als Naturgesetz. Einheit der Analogie und Continuität. (505) 3. Die unendlich kleinen Differenzen als Bedingung der Harmonie. (509) Neuntes Kapitel. Der menschliche Geist. ([513]) I. Die Natur des Geistes. ([513]) 1. Seele und Geist. ([513]) 2. Deutliche Vorstellung. Selbstbewußtsein. (517) 3. Persönlichkeit. (520) II. Die thierische und menschliche Seele. (524) 1. Gedächtniß und Erkenntniß. (524) 2. Sinnlichkeit und Vernunft. (527) 3. Das Vermögen der Principien. (529) III. Die Theorie der angebornen Ideen. (530) 1. Die angebornen Ideen als Erkenntnißanlage. (530) 2. Realismus und Idealismus. (531) 3. Leibniz im Unterschiede von Descartes und Kant (Fichte). (533) 4. Gegensatz zwischen Locke und Leibniz. (537) Zehntes Kapitel. Die Entwicklung des Bewußtseins. Die kleinen Vorstellungen. ([549]) I. Die Continuität des Seelenlebens. (551) 1. Die Thatsache bewußtloser Vorstellungen. (551) 2. Die immer thätige Kraft der Vorstellung. (Kein psychisches Vacuum.) (552) II. Zusammenhang des Unbewußten und Bewußten. (555) 1. Die kleinen Vorstellungen als Elemente des Bewußtseins. (555) 2. Die kleinen Vorstellungen als Bedingung des Mikrokosmus. (559) 3. Schlaf und Wachen. (Das Träumen.) (560) 4. Schlaf im Wachen. (561) 5. Die Gewohnheit. (563) Elftes Kapitel. Die Entwicklung des theoretischen Geistes: Aesthetik und Logik. ([568]) I. Die dunkle Vorstellung der Harmonie. ([568]) 1. Die ästhetische Vorstellung. ([568]) 2. Leibniz und Baumgarten. (570) 3. Leibniz und Kant. (572) II. Die deutliche Vorstellung der Harmonie. (574) 1. Vernunft- und Erfahrungswahrheiten. (574) 2. Der Satz der Identität als Princip der Vernunftwahrheiten. (577) 3. Der Satz des zureichenden Grundes als Princip der Erfahrungswahrheiten. (581) Zwöftes Kapitel. Die Entwicklung des praktischen Geistes: Sittenlehre. ([587]) I. Determinismus und Indeterminismus. ([587]) 1. Trieb (Instinct) und Wille. ([587]) 2. Kein leerer Wille (Willkür). (589) 3. Keine Willensindifferenz. (591) 4. Der determinirte Wille. (594) 5. Die innere Determination oder Neigung. (595) II. Prädeterminismus. (599) 1. Die innere Vorherbestimmung. (599) [Gedicht]: Auszug aus "Wallensteins Tod." (600) 2. Kein Fatalismus. (601) III. Die Entstehung des moralischen Willens. (602) 1. Angeborne Instincte und Maximen. (602) 2. Das moralische Naturell. (604) 3. Das praktische Gefühl oder die Unruhe. (606) 4. Die überwiegende Neigung und die Wahl. (607) 5. Das Streben nach Glückseligkeit. (609) 6. Das Streben nach Thätigkeit (Erkenntniß). (610) 7. Der vernunftgemäße Wille oder die Freiheit. (612) 8. Die Menschenliebe oder die sittliche Harmonie. (615) Dreizehntes Capitel. Der künstlerische Geist. ([618]) Die ästhetische Vorstellung und der künstlerische Wille. Natur und Kunst. Kunst und Religion. ([618]) Vierzehntes Capitel. Religion und Theologie. ([624]) I. Offenbarung und Vernunft. ([624]) 1. Ursprung der Religion. ([624]) 2. Das natürliche Gottesbewußtsein. (626) II. Monadologie und Theologie. (627) 1. Angeblicher Widerstreit. (627) 2. Uebereinstimmung beider. (629) 3. Theismus. (631) 4. Nationalismus und Supranaturalismus. (632) 5. Das Ueber- und Widervernünftige. (634) 6. Bayle und Tertullian. (636) 7. Leibniz und die deutsche Aufklärung. (638) Fünfzehntes Capitel. Die natürliche Religion. ([641]) I. Geist und Gott. ([641]) 1. Das sittliche und religiöse Streben. ([641]) 2. Natürliche und geschichtliche Religion. (642) II. Die Wahrheiten der natürlichen Religion. (645) 1. Gott und Unsterblichkeit. (645) 2. Judenthum und Christenthum. (646) 3. Gottesliebe und Menschenliebe. (648) Sechszehntes Capitel. Die natürliche Theologie. ([651]) I. Die Beweise vom Dasein Gottes. ([651]) 1. Die Beweisarten. Die ontologische. ([651]) 2. Die kosmologische (physikotheologische). (653) 3. Der Beweis aus den ewigen Wahrheiten. (654) II. Das Wesen Gottes. (658) 1. Die höchste Kraft. (658) 2. Allmacht, Weisheit, Güte. (660) 3. Die schöpferische Wirksamkeit. (661) 4. Die Nothwendigkeit der Schöpfung. (663) 5. Die moralische Nothwendigkeit. (665) 6. Natürliche und moralische Nothwendigkeit. (668) Siebzehntes Capitel. Die Theodicee. ([671]) I. Physikotheologie. ([671]) 1. Gott als Urgrund und Endzweck der Welt. ([671]) 2. Die Welt als Natur und Schöpfung. (673) II. Deismus. (676) 1. Die Welt als Offenbarung Gottes. (676) 2. Weltordnung und Wunder. (678) 3. Gott als Weltbaumeister und Weltregent. Natur und Gnade. (683) 4. Gott und die Geisterwelt. (684) III. Optimismus. (686) 1. Beweisgründe der besten Welt. (686) 2. Die vorherbestimmte Harmonie. (688) IV. Theodicee. (691) 1. Einwürfe gegen die beste Welt. (Bayle). (691) 2. Die Arten des Uebels. (694) 3. Das Uebel als Mangel. (696) 4. Das Uebel keine Gegenmacht des Guten. (697) 5. Das Uebel als Bedingung des Guten. (701) 6. Das Verhältniß des Uebels zu Gott. (705) 7. Göttliche Vorherbestimmung und menschliche Freiheit. (712) Drittes Buch. Leibniz' Schule. Die Entwicklungsstufen der deutschen Aufklärung. ([717]) Erstes Capitel. Charakteristik und Kritik der leibnizischen Lehre. ([719]) I. Charakteristik. ([719]) 1. Grundzüge des Systems. ([719]) 2. Der ideale Naturalismus. (721) II. Kritik. Die Widersprüche des Systems. (724) 1. Monaden und Monadologie. (724) 2. Die Erkenntniß der fühlenden Seele. (725) 3. Streit zwischen der klaren und dunklen Erkenntniß. (726) 4. Leibniz' neue Versuche. (728) 5. Widerspruch im Begriff Gottes. (730) 6. Widerspruch im Begriffe der Welt. (734) 7. Widerspruch im Begriff der Monade (Seele.) (736 [737]) III. Auflösung der Widersprüche. (738 [739]) 1. Leibniz und Wolf. (738 [739]) 2. Leibniz und Kant. (740) Zweites Capitel. Erste Stufe: Die Verstandesaufklärung. 1. Das Schulsystem: Christian Wolf. ([743]) I. Die Fortbildung der leibnizischen Lehre. ([743]) II. Erste Aufgabe: die formelle Ausbildung. (746) III. Der neue Dualismus. (750) 1. Seele und Körper. (750) 2. Die äußere Zweckmäßigkeit. (752) 3. Gott und Welt. Kritik der Offenbarung. (754) Drittes Capitel. 2. Der reine Deismus: Hermann Samuel Reimarus. ([759]) I. Alleinige Geltung der Vernunftreligion. ([759]) 1. Unmöglichkeit des Wunders. ([759]) 2. Die Offenbarung durch Wunder. (761) II. Vernunftglaube und Bibelglaube. (762) 1. Kriterien der Offenbarung. (762) 2. Kritik der Bibel. (768) Viertes Capitel. 3. Die Gemüthsaufklärung und Popularphilosophie. Moses Mendelssohn. ([773]) I. Die Moral als Wesen der Religion. ([773]) 1. Die Herzensbeweise vom Dasein Gottes. ([773]) 2. Die Religion im Gegensatz zur Kirche. (775) II. Der beschränkte Aufklärungsverstand. (777) 1. Das geschichtswidrige Denken. (777) 2. Mendelssohn und Sokrates. (779) 3. Die Aufklärung im Widerspruch mit dem Begriff der Entwicklung. (782) Fünftes Capitel. Zweite Stufe: die Aufklärung im Einklange mit der Entwicklung. Lessing. ([789]) I. Die congeniale Betrachtungsweise. ([789]) 1. Aufgabe und Standpunkt. ([789]) 2. Winckelmann und die Alten. (791) II. Höhe der Aufklärung: Lessing. (793) 1. Lessing's Denkweise, Schreibart, Kritik. (793) 2. Religion und Bibel. Anti-Goeze. (796) 3. Die Religion als Grund der Bibel. (798) 4. Das Wunder als Grund der Religion. Die "regula fidei". (799) 5. Christliche Religion und Religion Christi. Evangelienkritik. (801) 6. Das Wesen der Religion. Grundwahrheiten des Christenthums. (802) 7. Das Christenthum der Vernunft. Die Trinität. (804) 8. Die Religion unter dem Gesichtspunkt der Entwicklung. (809) a) Geschichte als Entwicklung. (809) b. Offenbarung als Erziehung. (810) c. Theodicee der Geschichte. (812) 9. Lessing im Verhältniß zu Leipniz und Spinoza. (816) Sechstes Capitel. Dritte Stufe: Die Originalitätsphilosophie. 1. Geschichtsphilosophie. Herder. ([819]) I. Standpunkt und Aufgabe. ([819]) II. Johann Gottfried Herder. (823) 1. Verhältniß zu Lessing und der Aufklärung. (823) 2. Herder's Richtung und Geistesart. (824) 3. Herder's Geschichtsphilosophie im Gegensatz gegen die Verstandesaufklärung. (826) Siebentes Capitel. 2. Glaubens- und Geniephilosophie. Hamann und Lavater. ([829]) I. Die Wahrheit und das dunkle Ich. Hamann. ([829]) 1. Standpunkt und Geistesart. ([829]) 2. Die Einheit der Gegensätze. Bruno. (830) 3. Der Mensch als "Pan". (832) 4. Die Erkenntniß als Glaube. Hume. (833) 5. Offenbarungsglaube und Christenthum. (834) 6. Der kindliche Glaube. (835) II. Die Erkenntniß der dunklen Individualität. Lavater. (837) 1. Physiognomik. (837) 2. Die geniale Individualität. (841) Achtes Capitel. 3. Gefühlsphilosophie. Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi. ([843]) I. Aufgabe und Standpunkt. ([843]) 1. Religion und Erkenntniß. ([843]) 2. Kritik der Verstandeserkenntniß. (844) 3. Alle Verstandeserkenntniß gleich Spinozismus. (845) 4. Gespräch mit Lessing. (849) II. Glaube und Wissen. (851) 1. Idealismus und Nihilismus. (851) 2. Die Gewißheit als Glaube. Hume. (852) 3. Die Offenbarung als Grund des Glaubens. (854) 4. Der Glaube als Gefühl (Vernunft). (855) III. Jacobi's Stellung in der Geschichte der Philosophie. (859) 1. Jacobi und Kant. (859) 2. Jacobi und Mendelssohn. (863) 3. Jacobi und Leibniz. (866) Neuntes Capitel. Göthe und Schiller in ihrem Verhältniß zu Leibniz und der Aufklärung. Schluß. ([867]) I. Göthe's philosophische Vorstellungsweise. ([867]) 1. Verhältniß zu Spinoza. ([867]) 2. Verhältniß zu Leibniz. Göthe's leibnizischer Pantheismus. (869) II. Schiller's philosophische Vorstellungsweise. (872) 1. Verhältniß zu Spinoza und Leibniz. Schiller's leibnizischer Pantheismus. (872) [Gedicht]: Auszug aus "Die Freundschaft." (874) 2. Schiller's Hinweisung auf Kant. (874) III. Die poetische Geltung der Individualität. Die prästabilirte Seelenharmonie. (876) IV. Schluß: Auflösung der dogmatischen Philosophie. (877) 1. Widerspruch der Gefühlsphilosophie. (877) 2. Gesammtwiderspruch der dogmatischen Philosophie. (880) 3. Die kritische Philosophie. (881) 4. Kant, Fichte, Schelling in ihrem Verhältniß zu Leibniz. (882) Einband ( - ) Buchrücken ( - )

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