Suchergebnisse

Issue 33.1 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be .accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor January 1974 Volume 33 Number 1 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Review for Religious Volume 33, 1974 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor " Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~ 1974 by Review for Religious. Documents concerning Religious The following are seven recent documents concerning religious given here in chronologi-cal order and in the English translation provided by the weekly English edition of L' osservatore romano. LETTER TO THE GENERAL OF THE JESUITS To Our Beloved Son PETER ARRUPE Superior General of the Society of Jesus On the solemn occasion of Easter last year you intimated to Us that you were thinking of calling a general congregation of your Society in the year 1974, whose task it would be to explore the most apt ways for the Society to per-form its work in the Church and in the world of today. Importance of the Congregation Our Venerable Brother, the Cardinal Secretary of State, replying in Our behalf,~sent you Our best wishes. Now that you have publicly annoUnced the general congregation, and the provincial congregations are soon to be held for the election of delega.tes and for the preparation of postulata to be proposed to the general congregation, We Ourselves because of the love We bear the Society wish to address Ourselves through this letter to you and your companions to encourage you and to send you Our best wishes for a happy outcome of the congrega.tion. For we are well aware of the great im-portance of convoking it at this time, which could be an hour of decision, so to speak, for the Society of Jesus, for its future destiny and for its task in Church, as it is also for other religious families. 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 This meeting is a sign--and We are happy to say so--that the Society of Jesus is making a great effort, in accordance with the aims of its institute, to adapt its life and its apostolate to the needs of today's world, which is so constantly and rapidly changing. The Mind ot Vatican II Your desire, in fact, corresponds with the norms of the Second Vatican Council, the proper and careful implementation of which We Ourselves are strenuously trying to attain. Indeed, the congregation is in accord with the opinion of the Council fathers who said: "Effective renewal and proper adap-tation cannot be achieved except with the cooperation of all the members of the institute" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 4). However, if that universal Synod was looking for renewal fitting the needs of the present, it did not want this to be brought about through a hazardous experimentation that might be alien to the very character of the religious family, or lead to an abandonment of the primary values of a life consecrated to God. No, it was the mind of that Synod that the common elements of religious life should be confirmed and that they should be allowed to grow and develop. These are: a following and imitation of Christ, "as proposed in the Gospel" (ibid., 2); a renuncia-tion of worldly things so that the religious might live for God alone and for the building up of the Church; a practice of all the human and Christian vir-tues, best achieved by a joyful and constant observance of the vows (cf. ibid., 5), which should lead to the heights of the spiritual life where sublime contemplation is joined with magnanimous action. In Our apostolic exhorta-tion "Evangelica testificatio," which We published later, We explained all this in more detail and dealt with it more fully, using it as a paternal invita-tion to all religious that "they might shed light among men, so that, when they see the good you do, they might give praise to the Father in heaven" (cf. Mt 5:16). The Society of Jesus, especially called to walk in the path of the follow-ing of Christ, should feel itself particularly impelled to review its style of life, testing it constantly in the light of the Gospel, according to the exhortations contained in the words and example of St. Ignatius. Let this be undertaken with a view to actually effecting the renewal begun at the instance of the Council, taking into account new circumstances and needs. This should be done, however, in accordance with the spirit of the Society of Jesus, that is, in fidelity to its tradition which is based on .Christ, on the Church, on St. Ignatius. Hence, that the preparation for the coming General Congregation may not be limited to organizational matters, but give to all the members of the Society of Jesus a proper orientation and win their full commitment to it, they will have to rehearse with penetrating insight, a clear grasp of reality, and a profound sense of duty those principles of the spiritual and apostolic life which for centuries formed, as it were, the very structure that held the Documents concerning Religious / 5 Society together, and which made it a most serviceable instrument for a pastoral, missionary, and educational apostolate involving cultural forma-tion of" the highest excellence. Those responsible for this accomplishment were a large group of men distinguished for holiness of life and love of neighbor. Sources of Strength The foundations of religious formation which were laid in the past should today, even under changed conditions, still be the source of strength of the Society of Jesus. They are: a diligent dedication to prayer, which "has its origin in the authentic sources of Christian spirituality" (cf. Decr. Per- [ectae caritatis, 6); an austerity of life, preventing a person from easily adopting that frame of mind which, casting aside that which is sacred, pre-vails in so many forms of contemporary life and practice; supernatural strength by which apostolic effectiveness is increased, and in the absence of which no action, no matter how excellent on the surface, can yield lasting fruit for the transformation of the human conscience; complete observance of the vows, especially obedience, which is peculiar to the Society and a condi-tion of its religious discipline by which its vigor was always preserved. Hence, there must be no attempt to introduce new methods of deliberation and deci-. sion-making that not only undermine the very notion of obedience, but alter the nature itself of the Society of Jesus. Finally, the ascetical value of com-munity life and the advantages it offers for the formation of character should be kept in mind. To these weighty principles We would also add in a very special manner the fidelity to the Apostolic See, whether in the area of studies and education of young scholastics, who are the hope of your order, or of the students at-tending the great number of schools and universities entrusted to the Society, or in the production and publication of writings aimed at a wide circle of readers, or in the exercise of the direct apostolate. Dangers to Essential Structure of the Order Nor are We ignorant of the fact that over the past few years in several parts of the Society--and it is by no means absent either from the life of the Church in general--certain tendencies have arisen of an intellectual and dis-ciplinary nature which, if fostered and given support, could lead to serious and possibly irreparable changes in the essential structure itself of your So-ciety. As you know, Beloved Son, we have through Our closest collaborators called your attention more than once to these matters, while expressing the hope that the expected renewal will be brought about securely and smoothly. Therefore, on the occasion of the announcement of the gen-eral congregation We express once again Our desire, indeed Our demand, that the Society of Jesus should adapt its life and apostolate to today's con-ditions and needs in such a way that confirmation be given to its characteris- 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tics as a religious, apostolic, priestly Order, linked to the Roman Pontiff by a special bond of love and service, as ratified in the "Formula of the Institute" or fundamental rule of this same Society, approved and repeatedly confirmed by Our predecessors. In the adaptation of which We .speak, experience will be your teacher. It will show what concrete forms of life and action have now become irrelevant and outdated, and what new needs and opportunities pre-sent themselves of work to be undertaken or directed according to the mind of Christ and the nature of the apostolate. We also hope that in the preparation for the general congregation, and later when it is in session, all the religious will be intent on the good of the Society, united in that charity required by your Founder, whose voice can still somehow be heard, in your Constitutions: "Union and agreement among all ought to be sought with great care, and the opposite ought not to be per-mitted; in order that, being united among themselves by the bond of fraternal charity, they may be able better and more efficaciously to apply themselves in the service of God and the aid of their fellowmen" (P.III, c.l, n.18). Final Thoughts~ and Suggestions These,, then, are Our wishes; that they may be heeded we pray to ,the Virgin Mother of God, Queen and Mother of the Society of Jesus; may she support it with counsel, strengthening goodwill, stirring up hearts, and in-spiring all the religious to ever more zealously imitate the Divine Savior in their task of constantly and courageously establishing His reign. What we have written should show you and your companions what is ex-pected of you by Us, who know well what influence the Society of Jesus has, what the task is that it has to fulfill, what confidence it enjoys; all this must be carefully considered, both with respect to the Society itself and with respect to the Church. We wish you to inform your collaborators and all the members of the Society of Jesus of this message, so that each one may see the witness of Our paternal benevolence and of the concern We have for the future destiny of the same Society. For We are convinced that the more faithfully the sons of St. ignatius conserve the Ignatian charism as it appears in the principle docu-ments of the institute, the more effectively will they pursue the glorious work of evangelizing today's world according to their God-given vocation, emulat-ing the example of so many Jesuits who consistently tried-~--and We use the words of St. Ignatius--"to distinguish themselves in the total service of their eternal King and universal Lord" (Spit. Ex., II week). Having made known in writing what is in Our heart, We gladly impart to you and to the whole Society of Jesus the Apostolic Blessing as an'augury of the divine assistance. ~ " From the Vatican, the fifteenth of September, 1973, the eleventh year of Our Pontificate. PAUL VI Documents concerning Religious "/ 7 LETTER ON ST. BRIDGET OF SWEDEN To Our Venerable Brother JOHN E. TAYLOR Bishop of Stockholm In this year marking the sixth centenary of her death, honor is rightly paid to St: Bridget, Flowei" of the North, and rightly are the faithful exhorted to direct their thoughts, with fresh° enthusiasm, so to speak, to the spiritual beauty of this heavenly one, as her memory is being solemnly recalled to mind. This chosen woman had a double fatherland: Sweden, where she was born at the beginning of the 14th century and Rome, where she spent nearly 20 years, and where after her return from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, she de-parted ripe for heaven, to the eternal Jerusalem, on the 23rd day of July, in the year 1373. ~ In that northern region to which the devout mind turns with heightened eagerness on this occasion, the ecclesiastical life was at that time in a fluorishing state, particularly because the Cistercian monks and after them the mendicant orders had introduced a piety that was well adapted to the people. For nurturing this piety, devout pilgrimages, to which Christians were much given, proved very effective. And' when the Scandinavians ad-venturously and with devotion and enthusiasm betook themselves to the holy places:in distant parts of the world, they, as it were,°exchanged spiritual riches with other brethren in Christ whom they met and also experienced in a vital way the unity.of the body of the Church. Wife and Mother Such were the times in which Bridget grew to womanhood. Although she desired to consecrate her virginity to God, she was thwarted in her desire of a Divine Spouse. In,submission to the will of her father, she married Ulf Gudmarsson, an excellent man. As wife and mother she was a shining ex-ample; she lived united to her husband by the bond of Christian love andsh~ reared her' eight 6hildren with discerning wisdom; that is to say, she wished them to grow up to be not only good citizens of their fatherland, but also servants and children of God. And so it came about that the seeds of religious vocation came?to flower among her offspring. Indeed, her second daughter, Catherine, with the aid ofdivine grace reached the heights of sancity. Nor may ewe neglect to mention the charity of St. Bridget lavished on the mem-bers of Christ suffering from poverty or other distress. Following a pious pilgrimage they had made together to the Shrine of St. James at Compostella, Bridget's husband entered a Cistercian monas-tery and soon after he died there. Whereupon Bridget, having set her domes-tic affairs in order, devoted herself entirely to the ascetical life and prepared for her own flights to God, by whom she wa~ richly favored with mystical 8 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 gifts. During the two years in which she lived in a retired place near the monastery where her husband Ulf had withdrawn from the world, she was inspired by Christ with the resolve to found a new Order to be named for our Divine Savior, in honor of Mary the Virgin Mother of God. There would be double monasteries housing in separate buildings men and women who had,freed themselves for divine pursuits, but they would constitute onecom-munity, as it were, gathered together in God's name. This order, whose rule Our Predecessor Urban V approved in 1370, began with the foundation called Vadstena. Spiritual Writings There is cause for rejoicing indeed in the fact that this religious family, which almost disappeared at the time when the seamless garment of the Church was pitiably rent, began to flourish again at the beginning of this present century, insofar as its branch of consecrated women is concerned; and a house was established at the Campo dei Fiori, where the mother foundress had formerly lived. That this institute may prosper with a happy increase in this anniversary celebration honoring St. Bridget is the object of our earnest desire. Deservedly extolled also are those works which are entitled "Revela-tions," and which set forth the mystical graces bestowed on St. Bridget. They are records valued besides for their wealth of sacred doctrine, treating of her cult of our Savior's humanity, of His sacred passion, of the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and the angels. The spiritual writings and religious art of the 15th and 16th centuries reflect the strong impact of these works. Solicitude for the Church Broadening the range of her concern, however, St. Bridget, like another Catherine of Siena, extended her great and zealous solicitude to the Church and the Apostolic See in that troubled period. As a devoted daughter she sought the reformation of the Church, ihe Mother of all, which, as Vatican Council II says, "is summoned by Christ, as she goes her pilgrim way, to that continual reformation, of which she always has need, insofar as she is an institution of men here on earth" (Decree on Ecumenism, Unitat& redinte-gratio, 6). Like the "valiant woman" she was, Bridget entreated Clement VI, lingering in Avignon, to return to Rome and urged the proclamation of the jubilee year of 1350. This woman, then, who by her life and work united so admirably and beneficially in the one Church her illustrious native land of the North and the See of Peter, corroborates, so to speak, as a citizen of heaven, the gener-ous efforts of those who after a prolonged and lamentable severance are now striving to restore Christian unity. Indeed, Our predecessor Boniface IX ap-pears in some way to have foretold this when in an apostolic letter dated under his seal, 7 October 1391 he said that he declared Blessed Bridget of Documents concerning Religious / 9 happy memory to be a saint "for the unity of the faith and of the Ch'urch" (Bullarium Priv. ac Dipl. Pont., III, Rome, 1741, p. 391 ). Tolally Dedicated Again, we rightly commemorate this singular and exemplary woman be-cause, although she was totally dedicated to God, she was not estranged from her own people. More than this, animated by a Christian love of her native land, she labored for its true progress. Her own family gave 'to Sweden for almost a hundred years kings, among them St. Eric, who were intent upon the good of their people and social justice. And although occupied with household cares, St. Bridget often served as an instructress in royal duties at court and was like a watchful mother to King Eric the Great (or Erikson) and his wife. She gave them a Swedish translation of the Holy Bible, and for this and for her writings mentioned above, she obtained a place in the literary history of her country. May her light shine radiantly, therefore, a light recognized also by those who are not of the Catholic communion. May this extraordinary woman in-tercede with God that He may graciously bestow on the Church the gifts of peace and unity. These obtained, may the faithful of Christ in Sweden and the adjoining northern regions come to recognize that he who is placed over the Catholic Church and exercises the highest apostolic ministry testifies to a singular esteem and brotherly love for them. May the example of this devout pilgrimage ot~ olden days kindle the hearts of those who come to this City in the forthcoming Holy Year, so that sincere repentance and desire for the interior life may bring about a spiritual renewal that will benefit not only in-dividuals but the Church also and civil society. This then is Our message to you in observance of the sixth centenary of th~ death of St. Bridget. In conclusion, We affectionately impart to you and to the faithful under your care the Apostolic Blessing as a token of spiritual strength and joy. This Blessing we desire to extend also to the Abbess Gen-eral and the Sisters of St. Bridget, the Order of our Divine Savior. From the Vatican Palace, on the 19th day of September, in the year 1973, the eleventh of our Pontificate. PAUL VI ADDRESS TO BENEDICTINE ABBOTS The following address was given October 1, 1973, to 270 abbots and con-ventual priors of the Benedictine Confederation led by the Abbot Primate, Dom Rembert Weakland. Also present for the audience were three Orthodox monks and three Protestant monks. From the heart we greet you, representatives of the whole Order of St. Benedict, who, in St. Cyprian's words, have come "to the Chair of Peter and the primatial church, the source of priestly unity" (Ep. 12, 14; PL 3,844-5). You have desired also to pay a visit to us, the successor in the apostolic min- Review for Religious,. Volume 33, 1974/1 istry to that same blessed Peter, in the long intervening line of Pontiffs. We greet also the Priors here present ot~ monasteries located for the most partin Africa and in Latin America, in which areas, with laudable spontaneity you devote your energies to missionary work; that is to say, "you are diligently engaged in implanting there the very rich tradition of your Order" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Ad gentes divinitus, 18). Experiencing God We welcome in addition, recognizing at the same time the high prestige they enjoy, the observers, who, though not full participants in the Catholic communion, are yet striving to follow in the footsteps of St. Benedict. Fi-nally, we receive paternally the abbesses of monasteries and th~ mothers general here present of congregations that adhere to the spirit of this Patri-arch and are called by his name. We know that you are now holding a meeting on a subject of no small consequence; namely, on the mode of experiencing God in monastic life. This topic has various facets, as it were, whether it is considered according to Biblical doctrine, to sacred liturgy, to history, to the conditions and exigen-cies of the present day. We regard this subject as serviceable indeed, if this troubled age of ours is really to return to the great and fundamental reflec-tions that concern human existence itself. For there is danger today that men may banish the sacred from their minds and from their condu& and even presume they can do without God, at least in the use they make'of thoii" lives. Sometimes even those who have given themselves to the divine service and are dedicated to the pastoral ministry can be infected with this secular view. You, however, as monks in appearance, dress, and way of life affirm or should affirm that you belong to the number of those who do not rely upon the vain and passing things of this world, but seek wholeheartedly Him who is the Absolute: whom alone we ca.ll God, God our Highest Good, God Eternal. Here there shines before the eyes of the mind the true concept of religion, whereby man becomes intimately aware that he is ordered to God, Creator, Ruler, Last End, and Author of Salvation, to whom he owes in-terior and exterior worship. Such religion, therefore, encompasses the entire man and obliges him to devote himself to God in wholehearted service. Hence, you who "have chosen the best part" (see Luke 10:42), inasmuch as "your main task is to render the Divine majesty a service at once sim-ple and noble within the monastic confines" (see Conc. Vat. II, Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 9), dembnstrate the excelling power of the interior life for opposing that secular propensity whereby men are induced to abandon their own true center, as it were, and surrender themselves to exterior things. Liturgy of the Hours It should be your concern, then, to be religious who are truly, called so, Documents concerning Religious under a unique title, since you strive to ascend to God, to whom you have been consecrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels, through liv-ing the contemplative life, which you nourish by daily effort. Merely in doing this you express your protest against the neglect of God and against the profane way of life which pervades the world in these times. From our brief exposition, the excellence of prayer to be directed to God is already manifest. Indeed, all the sons of the Church, as you well know, are to adore the Father "in spirit and in truth" (see John 4:23). But since in the world of today prayer is beset by so many snares and threatened by so many perils, to you, who enjoy a more fortunate position, is entrusted the special task of directing your study and efforts to the end that the Church may really appear as the Ecclesia Orans. We are cognizant of the zeal with which you have studied the liturgical aspect in this meeting. We rejoice greatly in your diligence and your ardent desire to make that venerable tradition of yours flourish among you and to preserve that which constitutes the essential part of your spiritual life and which in the course of the centuries has ever enhanced the life of the Church itself. We know also of your solicitude for the vital force, the profound sig-nificance and the benefits which have been derived from the renewal of the liturgy that you brought to pass. Joined to this solicitude of y_ours is appre-hension lest these same benefits be not rightly and duly recognized, the more so because differing inclinations of soul in the great family of- St. Benedict have become evident with regard to the order to be observed in the Liturgy of the Hours; that is, whether this order should be uniform in the various monasteries or particular to each one. Need to Study and Weigh This is a very important question, whether as pertaining to your con-sistent historical and spiritual tradition or to your monastic cohesion which is no longer supported by only one form of sacred liturgy, but is expressed through several different voices, so that in celebrating the praise of God you are no longer "speaking with one voice." Consequently, this question should be studied in such a way as to embrace all its aspects in accordance with the vows made by you, before appropriate norms with the force of precept are laid down. Nevertheless, we wish to state that the difficulties which have arisen should be so weighed, and due account taken of the benefits already ac-cruing, while with joint effort you strive to offer a testimony of fervent and ardent prayer to the world of today with its secular outlook. Assuring you therefore of our fatherly concern for the welfare of your monastic communities, we strongly affirm that we shall take under our eager and careful consideration the outcome and result of the work you have begun on this question, and already at this stage we acknowledge our Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 high esteem for the manner in which, with your wonted wisdom, you are addressing yourselves to this task. However, you are obliged to fulfill not only the duty of liturgical prayer, immensely important as this is, but also that of private prayer. On this sub-ject the Second Vatican Council has given a wise reminder (see Const. Sacrosanctum Concilium, 12), and St. Benedict himself is considered to treat of this point in his Rule, in the section headed. "De reverentia ora-tionis": "Supplication should be made to the Lord God of the universe with all humility and pure devotion" (cap. 20; see P. Delatte, Commentaire sur le R~gle de Saint Beno~t, Paris, p. 217). The exhortations of your founder are by no means inappropriate to this age, in which things progress and change with such rapidity. Just as in former times, so also now, you are to establish "a school of the Lord's ser-vice" (Reg. prol.); in other words, your monasteries should be so struc-tured that those who enter therein learn how to serve God and how to be continuously employed in His service. Such service, however, chiefly com-prises divine worship, by which the virtue of religion is exercised, as we have indicated above, and also holiness. With reference to worship we should like to bring out a special point: in celebrating the sacred liturgy with diligence and piety, as it behooves you to do, let. the sweet voice of the singing Church sound forth and never cease to sound forth in your churches. For men of today also feel the in-effable power of song that uplifts the soul and with gentle modulation gives expression to feelings of adoration, praise, penitence, and petition. Specially Chosen As regards holiness, this thought of St. Augustine should be deeply meditated: "Let not your voice only sound forth the praises of God, but let your deeds be in harmony with your voice" (Enarr. in Ps. 166, 2; PL 37, 1899). Although you have withdrawn from the world, to be occupied with the Lord, you have nonetheless "been specially chosen to preach the good news" (Rom l:l). May that hidden apostolic fruitfulness of which the Council speaks (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 7) flow out therefore from your mon-asteries upon the Church and society. May the yeast be prepared in them whereby, through the operation of divine power, the world may be renewed. This holiness, moreover, pertains not only to the life of the soul, but also to what you are doing for the cultivation of natural gifts, inasmuch as, to mention some examples, you devote yourselves to liturgical, Biblical, and historical studies for the common benefit, or, you engage in work, especially manual labor. Indeed, this last, may I add, enables you to go to the assist-ance of those who are suffering from poverty and other hardships, in keep-ing, of course, with the practices of the monastic life. This is in accord with the mind of the Council fathers who exhorted religious "to contribute to the Documents concerning Religious / 13 support of the poor, whom all should love with the tenderness of Christ" (see Decr. Per[ectae caritatis, 13; Const. Gaudium et spes, 42). Finally, not only your own individual life, but the life of the community as a whole, whereby you are joined one to another with the sweet bond of charity, should be adorned by this mark of holiness: that through the fel-lowship of community life directed to God, each individual is assisted in carrying out his service to the Lord, is incited to work for his brethren, is protected from dangers. Thus you will truly bear witness before the world to the holiness of the Church. In short, a community such as this, like a kind of novitiate, prepares religious during their lifetime for the everlasting day. Not without reason did St. Bernard reckon among the aids to good works: "to desire eternal life with all spiritual avidity" (Reg. cap. 4). ~ Example and Exhortation Of all these practices let the abbot give the example and exhort thereto the brethren entrusted to his care. Although the office of governing is ren-dered more difficult at the present time, yet he who "is believed to hold the place of Christ in the monastery" (Reg. cap. 2) should make the utmost effort that the vigor of spiritual life and of monastic discipline be strength-ened, increased, and, if need be, restored. To this end the abbot should en-deavor to maintain an unimpaired union with the magisterium of the Church, like a channel through which living water is drawn off for himself and for the brethren placed in his charge. The foregoing is what we have had affectionately in mind to say to you, and we do not doubt you will strive that your Order may aid the building up of the Church with spiritual forces, also in these times, to the needs of which it should prudently adapt itself. The announced Holy Year should offer you further incentive, since as you know we wish it to be a time of interior renewal. Lastly, as a pledge of heavenly gifts and as testimony of our assured affection, we impart the Apostolic Blessing to you who are here present and to all the members of your families in the Lord. ADDRESS TO THE LITTLE SISTERS OF JESUS The following address was given to the Little Sisters of Jesus at an audience of October 3, 1973. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, last Friday we had the very sweet joy of meeting you at Tre Fontane, in the eloquent simplicity of your houses and in an impressive atmosphere of evangelical serenity and happiness. Your participation in this audience is like a return feast, for you and for us like-wise. To the thirty-seven Little Sisters who have just made their vows of per- 14 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 petual consecration at St. Peter's tomb, we address our best wishes for fervent faithfulness. But our brief words are also addressed to their families, who have in many cases come from very far away to be present at their de-finitive commitment "because of Jesus and the Gospel." They are addressed likewise to the two hundred Little Sisters at present attending a session of spiritual formation under the direction of dear Father Voillaume. We entrust to you our heart's most ardent desire. We would like you to take all over the world the conviction that a religious profession com-mits at such a profound level that changes of structures and activities have only a relative importance, even if one suffers from them. The essential thing is to keep a very keen awareness of the call of Christ who chooses His friends Himself (see Jn 15:15.) Is not Fr~re Charles de J6sus an example of this faithfulness deepened through different, if not contradictory, situ-ations? It is clear, however, that his mysterious route finds its coherence and its unity in passionate imitation of Jesus Christ, the One Model. Fr~re Charles de J6sus appears as one of the most perfect types of this deep faith-fulness of a human freedom to the freedom and faithfulness of God, who took him far beyond his expectations and hopes. Dear Little Sisters of Jesus, be confiden!! To be faithful does not con-sist in becoming tense over one's promises, but in relying on the Lord to ensure our ~faithfulness. That is why the long hours spent~with Christ in the Holy Eucharist will always be the primary and indispensable source of the friendship, the evangelical testimony you have promised to give in the Church and in the world today. It is with these sentiments that we renew our affectionate Apostolic Blessing to you and to your relatives and to your whole religious family. ADDRESS TO REDEMPTORISTS On October 6, 1973, the Pope gave the following talk to the members of the general chapter of the Redemptorists. Beloved Sons, To you assembled in the General Chapter of your Congre-gation of the Most Holy Redeemer and engaged in deliberations of great importance to the life of your religious family, We extend our affectionate greeting. We desire, moreover, to welcome expressly the new superior gen-eral, who is charged with the office and the burden of guiding your congre-gation through the difficulties of our times--neither few nor inconsiderable --and of conducting it to "green pastures" (see Ps 22:2). Purpose of Chapters A general chapter provides an excellent opportunity--offered to every institute--to 'reflect once more upon the true nature and end set for the institute and to hold discussions that will have a salutary effect on the life of the members. For the responsibility of a general chapter is not discharged Documents concerning Religious / 15 by holding elections and. legislating; .the chapter must also promote the spiritual and apostolic vitality of the whole body (see Litterae Ap. Ecclesiae sanctae, motu proprio, I, 2). Therefore, in a meeting of this kind, the entire family is gathered together in the presence of God to hear His voice and take counsel with regard to its renewal which, as also for the whole Church, "essentially consists in an increase of fidelity to its own calling" (see Conc. Vat. II Decr. Unitatis redintegratio, 6). Your congregation was founded by that most devout Doctor of the Church, St. Alphonsus, in order that its members might sanctify them-selves by an assiduous and faithful imitation of Christ and also engage in apostolic works, above all that special care of souls involving salutary con-tact with the most abandoned. Servants of God Beloved Sons, you are servants of God in the true and primary sense of the word; for "by your vows you are totally dedicated to God through an act of supreme Love" (see Const. Lumen gentium, 44). To be dedi-cated means to be given over to another as his property and possession. You should be followers of Christ as the Universal Synod advised all re-ligious (see Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 2a), corroborating, as it were, and realizing more completely the desire of your Father Founder. Hence each of you must endeavor to order his life to a certain unity and seek Christ daily with a sincere and generous heart. Daily you should put on Christ, an effort which is the beginning and the end and the whole of your life, whether as individual religious or as communities. Thus you truly make Christ present in the world, which is in many instances utterly alienated from Him, its Redeemer. Then those who see you, who speak to you or liave dealings with you may experience a certain mysterious power emanating from our Savior. Thus also you manifest the holiness of the Church, to the world which especially demands holiness in her sons. Life of Charity This daily effort to put on the likeness of Christ constitutes, however, a life lived in charity and motivated by charity. For religious thus "impelled ¯ . . live ever increasingly for Christ and for His body the Church" (Decr. Perfectae caritatis, 1 ). But love truly and properly so called is not for a limited time, is not hedged by conditions, is not rendered less ardent by difficulties, and knows no end. Justly did the Second Vatican Council address to every religious the following exhortation to fidelity: "Let all who have been called to the profession of the vows take painstaking care to persevere and excel increasingly in the vocation to which God has summoned them" (Const. Lumen gentium, 47). The life in which one dedicates himself to God with an undivided heart 16 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 becomes a means to show forth the love of God for men. Just as God "loved the world so much that he gave his only son" (Jn 3:16), so too a religious who strives to attain the fullness of his vocation is a kind of gift bestowed upon the world. For an apostolate that is enlivened by continual prayer, liturgical and private, by ascetical zeal and the practice of the vir-tues, transfuses the divine life into men and constitutes in its truest sense the service of one's brothers in Christ. Beloved members of the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, you have illumined the Church by the sanctity of certain of your brethren, of whom We are pleased to recall to mind the Saints, Alphonsus Mary de'Liguorl, your founder, Clement Hofbauer, Gerard Majella, Blessed John Nepomucene Neumann. By your apostolic labors you have brought the light of divine grace to so many souls. On the occasion of this general chapter, persevere with renewed alacrity in your noble purpose, and if need be give fresh impetus to your zeal and redouble your efforts that the Church of God may reap benefit from you now and in the future as in times past. In fatherly encouragement to you in all these efforts, we lovingly im-part the.Apostolic Blessing .~o you who are present here and to all your members. ADDRESS TO MISSIONARIES OF THE SACRED HEART At the general audience of October 10, 1973, the Holy Father gave the follow-ing talk to jubilarian Missionaries of the Sacred Heart who were present at the audience. Venerable Brothers and Dear Sons in Christ, It is a joy for us to receive you on this occasion which marks the anniversary of your sacerdotal ordi-nation. For forty years you have exercised the ministry of the priesthood, having been called by the Lord Himself and sent out by the Church to preach "Christ crucified" (1 Cor 1:23) and to assist in giving witness to His Resurrection (see Acts 4:33). We can well imagine how many graces the Lord has offered you over the years and how many helps your ministry has brought to those whom you have served with fidelity and sacrifice. On this happy occasion we are glad to offer you our blessing, our felicitations, and our encouragement. We see you as part of a vast number of our brother priests who have been conscious of their responsibility and calling and who have endeavored with God's grace to perform their ministry, in the spirit of St. Paul, as one "worthy of God's approval, a workman who has no cause to be ashamed" (2 Tim 2:15). Today we wish, at this point in your lives, to confirm you in the faith, which you have received and preached, and in the priestly vo-cation that has been your precious gift, high dignity, and important obliga-tion. We urge you at this time to keep alive your hope and to maintain to the end that confidence with which you began (see Heb 3:6,14). To each Documents concerning Religious / 17 of you we say with the Apostle: "God . . . will not forget your work and the .love you have shown him by your service, past and present, to his holy people" (Heb 6:,10). May Christ fill all of you with joy and keep you in his love. On our part we cordially give your our special Apostolic Blessing. Our special greeting of grace and peace in the Lord go to the members of the General Conference of the Congregation of the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart, gathered together to consider questions of religious life and missionary activity. As we assure you of our paternal affection and en-couragement, we pray that Christ Jesus will make you apt instruments of preaching His gospel with ever greater effectiveness. We pray that you may indeed draw copiously from the riches of His love so as to be able to com-municate this same love in all its fullness "to the praise of his glori6hs grace" (Eph 1:6). Our Apostolic Blessing accompanies you in your im-portant responsibilities. ADDRESS TO THE CLARETIAN CHAPTER On October 25, 1973, Paul VI gave an audience to the members of the Claretian general chapter during which he delivered the following address. Beloved Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary! We express to you our deep pleasure at th!s vi.s.!t you pay us at the con-clusion of the meetings of your general chfi~ter. We hope that the work you have carried out these days will be fruitful. We hope that the dedicated service of the superior general and of the other members elected to form part of his council, will be effective and helpful for the purposes of your religious family. ~ We cannot overlook a particularly, iIluhainating circumstance, ,.which makes this joyful meeting more attractive: yesterday we celebrated the liturgical feast of St. Antonio Maria Claret. You yourselves made known for this reason your desire to visit Peter's Successor. We thank you for this gesture of support, in which we see a testimony of ekquisite spiritual affinity with your founder. How could we fail to recall before his sons the deep de-votion' he felt for the Vicar of Christ? And how could we fail to,venerate his memory in view of his eloquent and moving 'profession of faith in papal infallibility at the I Vatican Council? All that obliges us gratefully to open our mind to you in confidence, so that. you know that it is in perfect har-mony of religious sentiments with your own. THE CLARETIAN IMAGE We are sure that, during these days of your chapter, the protecting and guiding presence of St. Antonio Maria became more intense and exacting among you. And we like to think too that, when tracing the lines of re-newal, you took as your fixed point of reference the most genuine faithful- 18 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 ness to the origins of your institute and to the teachings on the consecrated life that the II Vatican Council proposed .and we ourself have repeatedly in-culcated. Allow us to savour with what purity of characteristic features the image of the Claretian presented itself to the contemplation of St. Antonio Maria. We read it yesterday during the lesson: "I tell myself: a Son of the Immaculate .Heart~ of Mary is a man burning with charity who sets fire wherever he passes. Nothing disheartens him; he takes pleasure in priva-tions, meets difficulties, delights in slander, and rejoices 0in torments. He thinks of nothing except how to follow and imitate Jesus Christ, in working, suffering and struggling always and only for the greater glory .of God and the salvation of souls" (El celo, c. I, BAC 188 [1959], p. 777). o See here, projected towards you, a whole program of holiness, based on religious renunciation of oneself, the fruit of its fertile evangelical vitality. It points out to you clearly,, with expressions of clear Pauline dynamism the good to which your personal and community life must aspire: the following and imitation of Christ in impulses of a charity that is always operative. BEARERS OF VALUES If to this program of interior life we add the very special cult of the Blessed Virgin h~ inculcated in you together with the~rimary dedication to the ministry of the Word, ,we have the complete picture of the Claretian vocation and spirituality. These and no others were the motives that gave life and ,meaning to the irrepressible zeal of the son of Sallent. And none other was the stamp of religious austerity that he imposed on himself to make his ministry more worthy of credit and more in conformity with the demands of the divine call. To proclaim the Good News to the point of sacrificing oneself for the good of one's brothers, to teach men the ever new languagel of;charity, characterized his overwhelming pastoral,task as Arch-bishop of Santiago in Cuba. Rightly could~we say of him, as of the Apostle of the Gentiles, that his vigor as '.'herald and teacher in faith and truth" (see 1 Tim 2:7) suffered no decrease in the midst of difficulties. On the contrary, his pastoral cares, his missionary anxiety found a way to express themselves continually in new ministerial initiatives, at home and abroad, inspired and nourished by the spirit of faithful service to the Church. Beloved sons, .appreciate this spiritual patrimony of yours;, spare no effort in tending its roots, if you really wish to be a tree always young and flourishing, able to adapt itself to the environment, to the changing require-ments of the times in order to continue to give ripe fruit to the Church, as it did in the past and continues to do at present, through its most illustrious sons. , At the chapter you have just held you have been able to convince your-selves that you are bearers of certain values that do not grow old because they .are a select part of the heritage and the universal vocation of the Documents concerning Religious /o 19 Church. The Christian community itself asks you for faithfulness and dis-cretion, generosity and disinterestedness in order to accept you and recog-nize you as the living and united sign of its human and spiritual aspirations. We do not wish to expatiate at greater length. Entrusting these thoughts to you, we wish to encourage you in your aspirations to holiness with our prayers to the Immaculate Heart of Mary so that, with the help of her motherly intercession, you may be exemplary sons of the Church. As con-firmation of these desires and as a testimony of particular benevolence we warmly impart the Apostolic Blessing to you and to the whole Claretian family. First Penance and First Communion Sacred Congregation [or the Discipline of the Sacraments and Sacred Congregation for the Clergy The Supreme Pontiff Pius X, relying on the prescription of Canon 21 of the Fourth Lateran Council, decided by the Decree "Quam singulari" issued on August 8th 1910 (AAS 1910, pp. 577-583), that children, once they had reached the age of discretion, should receive the sacraments of penance and Eucharist. That decision, having been put into operation throughout the universal Church, has produced and continues to produce very many fruits of Christian life and spiritual perfection. The "Addendum" to the General Catechetical Directory issued on the 1 lth April, 1971, by the Sacred Congregation for the Clergy (AAS 1972 pp. 97-176) confirms the custom of children receiving the sacrament of penance before Communion: "Having weighed all these points, and keeping in mind the common and general practice which per se cannot be derogated without the approval of the Apostolic See, and also having heard the Con-ferences of Bishops, the Holy See judges it fitting that the practice now in force in the Church of putting confession ahead of first Communion should be retained." The same "Addendum" took into consideration the fact that in certain regions in the Church some new practices had been introduced allowing children to be admitted to first Communion without first receiving the sacra-ment of penance. It allowed such practices to be continued for a time, pro-vided there was "prior communication with the Apostolic See and., they [the Conferences of Bishops] are at one mind with it." Having now carefully considered the matter and having taken into con-sideration the wishes of the bishops, the Sacred Congregations for the Dis-cipline of the Sacrament~ and for the Clergy, by virtue of this present docu-ment, and with the approval of the Supreme Pontiff, Paul VI, now that the 2O First Penance a~nd First Communion two years have passed, declare that these experiments should be brought to an end with the conclusion of the school year 1972-73 and that, there-fore, the Decree "Quam singulari" is to be obeyed by all everywhere. Given at Rome 24 May 1973. ANTONIUS Card. SAMORI~ Praef . JOHANNES Card. WRIGHT Praef . A Note on Intercommunion Secretariat [or the Union of Christians The following text is an explanatory note concerning the "Instruction on Intercom-munion" issued by the Secretariat for the Union of Christians on June 1, 1972; the text of the 1972 "Instruction" was given in Review ]or Religious, January 1973, pp. 12-8. 1. After the publication of the "Instruction concerning Particular Cases When Other Christians May Be Admitted to Eucharistic Communion in the Catholic Church," on June 1, 1972, various interpretations of it were given, some of which depart from the letter and the spirit of the document. To pre-vent the spread of such inaccurate interpretations and their consequences, we think it useful to recall to mind a few points. 2. With this instruction, pastoral in character, the Secretariat for Pro-moting Christian Unity had no intention of changing the rules laid down by the Vatican Council's decree on ecumenism and further explained by the Directorium Oecumenicum. The intenti6n was to explain that the existing discipline derives from the requirements of the faith and so retains its full vigour. 3. The basic principles of the instruction are: a) There is an indissoluble link between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist or between ecclesial and Eucharistic com-munion; the celebration of the Eucharist of itself signifies the fullness of pro-fession of faith and ecclesial communion (cf. Instruction, par. 2, a, b, c). b) The Eucharist is for the baptized a spiritual food which enables them to live with Christ's own life, to be incorporated more profoundly in Him, and to share more intensely in the whole economy of the mystery of Christ (cf. Instruction, par. 3). 4. Within the full communion of faith, Eucharistic Communion is the .4 Note on lntercommunion / 23 expression of this full communion and, therefore of the unity of .the faithful; at the same time it is the means of maintaining and reinforcing this unity. But Eucharistic Communion practiced by those ,who are not in full ecclesial communion with each other cannot be the expression of that full unity which the Eucharist of its nature signifies and which in this case does not exist; for this reason such Communion,cannot be regarded as a means to be used to lead to full ecclesial communion. 5. All the same, both the Directorium Oecumenicurn and th~ '~Instruc-tion," on,the,strength of what has already been said in the Vatican Council,s decree on ecumenism, allow the possibility of exceptions insofar as the Eucharist is necessary spiritual nour!shment for the Christian life. 6. It is the local ordinary's responsibility to examine these exceptional cases and make concr&e decisions. The instruction (no. 6.) recalls that the Directorium Oecumenicum gives the episcopal authority power, to decide whether in these r~re cases the required conditions are present or not. The episcopal authority's faculty of examining and deciding is governed by criteria laid down in the Directorium Oecumenicum (no. 55) and further explained in the instruction (no. 4 b),:. ". admission to Carbolic'Eucha-ristic Communion is confined to particular cases of those Christians who have a faith in the sacrament in conformity with that of the-Church, who experience a serious spiritual need for the Eucharistic sustenance, who for a prolonged period are unable to have recourse to a minister of their own community °and who ask for the sacrament of their own accord; all' this provided that they have proper dispositions~ and lead lives worthy of a Christian." ~. This criterion is observed if,,ail the required conditions .are verified. An object.ire, pastorally responsible examination,does not allow any vof,the con-ditions to be ignored. . ~. ~ ~ It must also be noted that the instruction speaks of particular cases, which are to be examined individually. Hence-a general regulation.cannot be~ issued which makes a catego.ry .o.ut of an exce.ptional case, nor is it possibles.to legitimate on the basis:of, epikei.a by turning this latter into a general rule. Nevertheless, the bishops can in tiae various situations decide what are theneeds that make exceptions applicable, that is to say, what constitutes a special case, and they can determine the manner of verifying whether all the required conditions are fulfilled in such a particular case. When par-ticular cases presen.t themselves fairly often in one region, following a re-current pattern, episcopal conferences can issue some guiding principles for ascertaining that al!,the conditions are verified in particular cases. Normally however it will be within the competence of the local ordinary to judge such cases. 7. For other Christians to be admitted to the Eucharist in the Catholic Church the instruction requires that they manifest a faith in the sacrament Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in conformity with that of the Catholic Church. This faith is not limited to a mere affirmation of the "real presence" in the Eucharist, but implies the doctrine of the Eucharist as taught in the Catholic Church. 8, It is to be noted that the instruction (no. 5) calls to mind the fact that the Directorium Oecumenicum (par. 34-54) provides for the Orientals not in full communion with the Catholic Church rules different from those regarding other Christians (par. 55-63)o For example, (a) Since they belong to a community whose Eucharistic faith is in con-formity with that of the Catholic Church, a personal declaration of faith in the sacrament will not be required of them when they are admitted: in an Orthodox this faith is taken for granted; (b) since the Orthodox Churches have true sacraments and, above all, by virtue of apostolic succession, the priesthood and the Eucharist, conces-sions for sacramental communion must take account of legitimate reciprocity (no. 43); (c) Justifiable reasons for advising sacramental sharing are considerably more extensive. 9. The question of reciprocity arises only with those Churches which have preserved the substance of the Eucharist, the sacrament of orders, and apostolic succession. Hence a Catholic cannot ask for the Eucharist except from a minister who has been validly ordained (Directorium Oecumenicum, no. 55). 10. The desire to share the Eucharist fundamentally expresses the desire of the perfect ecclesial unity of all Christians which Christ willed. Intercon-fessional dialogue on the theology of the Eucharist (as sacrament and sacrifice), on the theology of ministry and of the Church is pursuing its course within the ambit of the ecumenical movement, supported by the promises and prayer of our Lord; it is stimulated and enlivened by the charity, poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. We express the hope that the ecumenical movement will lead to a common profession of faith among Christians and so allow us to celebrate the Eucharist in ecclesial unity, giving fulfillment to the words, "Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body" ( 1 Cor 10: 17). This note has been approved by the Holy Father, who has authorized its publication. 17 October 1973 JOHN CardinaF WILLEBRANDS President CHARLES MOELLER Secretary Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary A DECREE WHICH DETERMINES WHAT SPIRITUAL WORKS ARE NECESSARY TO GAIN "THE GIFT OF THE INDULGENCE" IN THE VARIOUS LOCAL CHURCHES ON THE OCCASION OF THE HOLY YEAR The Cardinal President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year has asked this Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary to determine what spiritual works are necessary to gain "the gift of the Indulgence," which the Holy Father has promised to reinforce the spirit of reconciliation and renewal which are the characteristics of this Holy Year. Charged by the Sovereign Pontiff, the Sacred Penitentiary grants that, from the 1st Sunday of Advent of this year, until the day when the Holy Year is solemnly initiated in Rome, the faithful of the individual local Churches can gain: 1. The Plenary Indulgence, in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if they go on a. pious pilgrimage to the cathedral church, or also to o~her churches determined by the local Ordinary, in which a solemn community function is held; 2. The Plenary Indulgence, likewise in the times to be decided by the Episcopal Conferences, if gathered in groups (for example, families, school pupils, workers, employees and professional workers, pious associations), they visit the cathedral or other churches designated by the Ordinary, and remain there in pious meditation for a suitable time, concluding the visit with the recitation or singing of the Lord's Prayer and the Creed and with the invocation to the Blessed Virgin; 3. The Plenary Indulgence if, prevented by sickness or any other serious 25 26 / Review fo.r. Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 cause, they join spiritually in the pious pilgrimage, offering God their prayers and sufferings. As regards the diocese of Rome, which should rightly be in this matter an example and stimulus for other ecclesial communities, the same Sacred Penitentiary decrees that the times and ways to gain the aforesaid Plenary Indulgence shall be determined by the Cardinal Vicar General of Rome. Notwithstanding any provisions to the contrary. Rome, from the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary, 24 September 1973. G. SESSOLO Regent G. CARD. PAUP1NI Grand Penitentiary COMMENTARY ON THE HOLY YEAR INDULGENCE The following commentary on the preceding document appeared in L'osser-vatore romano, November 29, 1973, page 6. 1. By order ~f the Holy Father, the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued, on 24 September 1973, a decree confirming and clarifying what had already been said with regard to the Jubilee indulgence during this first phase of the Holy Year. It establishes::the so-called "work" or "pious practice" to be carried out by the faithful, at given times and places, to acquire the Jubilee indulgence. ~ .' The "work" prescribed is a "pilgrimage" to a designated church, con-cl'~ ding witl~ barticipation in a solemn community servic~ or at le.ast with the i'ecitatign 'of some prayers. Summarizing the decree of 24 September 1973 and keeping in mind both the norms for indulgences and the Holy Father's Letter of 31 May 1973, to Cardinal Maximilian de Ftirstenberg, President of the Central Committee for the Ho!y Year, the following points.may be r~oted. The faithful who, duly,dispoged, approach the sacraments of confession affd communion and pray acco~:ding to the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal C~ollege, are granted, in conformity with the norms in fbrce, the gift of the i91enary indulgence, at the time~'to be determined by the respective Episcopal Conference, beginning from 2 December 1973: (a) if they'take part in a pilgrimage to the cathedral church or to another church #esignated by the local Bishop and participate in solemn comrriunity serVice there; (b) if they go in groups (for example ram!lies, "sc3ools, professignal @orkers, associations) to one of the afpresaid chur'~hes and devote the, m-s'elves for ~/suitable space bf time to pious considerations, concluding them with the recitation or the singing of the Ou{ Fath~" and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgifi; (c) if, being unable to take part in'tli~ pilgrimage of their comn~unity (ecclesial, family, or social), because they are pi'evented by illness or any ~Decree on the Holy Year Indulgence / 27 .o, ther serious cause, they join in it .spiritually by offering their prayers and sufferings. 2. We spoke above of the faithful being ."duly disposed." This is a reminder that the '.'gift of. t, he indulgence" must .be merited by fervent prep-aration; it is bestowed to reward° and "strengthen"--as we readAn the re-cent d.e~cree--the spirit of renewal and reconciliation that must characterize the Hgly Year. , For this reason the simple practices that are required to gain the Jubilee indulgence must not be separated from the work of preparation, on which s9 much stress has rightly been laid. The practices themselves are, as ~it were, the point of arrival°and ,tOe exte_r.na_l sign of deep renewal of the spirit and reinvigorated love for God and one's brethren. . No.w, ,,the work of renewal and fervor is 'the most valuable part of the Holy Year, because, great as is the value of the indulgence that remits the te.mporal pen,alty in the case of, those who are disposed, the value of the works proposed when their fulfillment leads,to an increase of charity is in-comparably greater (St. Thomas, Supplement to the Theological Summa, q. 25~ 2, 2 and q. 27, 2, 2). ,. 3. We mentioned above--in addition to the proper disposition and the "work" prescribed~what are commonly called "conditions" for gaining the Jubilee indulgence, namely:sacramental confession, eucharistic,communion, and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Episcopal College. The three "conditions" mentioned above are also required for every other plenary indulgence, with the only difference that the prayer, according to the general norms, is said for the intentions of the Holy Father, while in this circumstance the Holy Father himself (cf. Letter to Cardinal de Ftirs-tenberg, quoted above) has wished to associate the intentions of the Bishops with his own. For the fulfillment of the conditions (cf. Norms, nn. 27, 28 and 29), the following should be noted: " (a) Communion and prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and of the Episcopal College should be on the same day on which the pilgrimage is made, but they may be before or afterwards. (b) To fulfill the condition of prayer for the intentions of the Holy Father and the Bishops, the faithful may recite a prayer of their own choice. (c) As for sacramental confession, in order to be able to make it un-hurriedly, it can be made even twenty days before or after the pilgrimage. It should also be remembered that confession must be made even by those who do not feel any serious guilt on their conscience; that it is required on the occasion of any plenary indulgence, but even more so for the Jubilee indulgence because of the particular commitment of purification and re-newal that the Holy Year entails. The confession, in fact, if the penitent so desires and the confessor con-s~ ders ~t useful, may ~nclude not only the s~ns since the last good confession, Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 but also the sins of a longer period of time to facilitate a deeper renewal of life. Furtherra~ore, to facilitate the faithful in making their individual con-fession, the recommendation that there should be confessors available "on the days and at the hours established for the convenience of the faithful" (cf. Normae~ pastorales of the S0 Congr. of the Doctrine of the Faith. 16 June 1972, AAS 64, 1972, page 513), is especially applicable for the Holy Year. (d) During .the Holy Year it is also ct~stomary to grant confessors special faculties in order that, if necessary, they"can absolve penitents in some cases, usually "reserved" to higher authority, without the obligation of re-course to the Bishop or to other competent Superior or to the Holy See. During the first phase of the Holy Year, which is celebrated in the vari-ous local Churches, the Bishops can make provision in this regard by grant-ing, at least to the more experienced confessors, the ample faculties at their disposal (cf. M.P. Pastorale munus of 30 November 1963, n. 14: AAS 56, 1964, p. 8). 4. Mention was also made above, in a generic way, of the "norms in force." It will be sufficient to recall here expressly the following two: (a) Every indulgence can" be applied to the dead by way of suffrage (norm 4). (b) The plenary indulgence can be acquired only once a day (norm 24, 1). Religious Life: Style or Culture? Vincent P. Branick, S.M. Father Vincent P. Branick, S.M., teaches Scripture and philosophy at Chaminade College of Honolulu; 3140 Waialae Avenue; Honolulu, Hawaii 96816. Paradoxically, loneliness has appeared most intensely in communities which have accepted in full seriousness the needs of the individual to express and communicate his unique personality. Groups which have sacrificed rich traditions to avoid the suffocation of their members in a mass of impersonal structures, congregations which have radically reformed their rules in quest of a truly personalized life have found their members suffering an over-whelming sense of isolation and lack of social maturity, to the extent of a serious weakening or even destruction of~their religious vocation. The Loss of Religious Culture Obviously, the ideals of personalism governing these reforms are not false. The evident validity of these ideals has led administrators to hold to the reforms in the face of their congregations' equally evident devitaliza-tion and even extinction. The mistake lies not in the ideals but in an un-recognized consequence resulting from an oversimplified pursuit of these ideals, namely, in the loss of religious culture. Many young people who came to religious life with a profound desire to be religious are leaving for the lack of a religious culture in which they could live. Many older religous are retreating into a comfortable bachelorhood for want of a religious cul-ture in which they could grow. What is this missing culture? Culture in General In its fundamental sense, a culture is a milieu or atmosphere in which 29 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 the human person can express his heartfelt values and through which he can communicate with others about these values. A culture is a consistent pat-tern of practices and manners which specify a shared approach to life, a familiar environment in which an individual finds himself, in which he can feel "at home." This fundamental sense of culture appears most strikingly in the cele-bration of a folk-festival. A nation celebrating itself gathers up its heritage, dances, and contests as a reminder of all that its members have in common. The songs a people sings are truly its songs. These are the songs which its ancestors sang and which likewise catalyzed its ancestors' sense of identity. Through these traditioned customs a nation can celebrate its solidarity in the present and its link to its past. Thus, a folk-festival is not a celebration separated from daily life, but rather an intensification of elements active in a lesser way throughout the daily life of a people, binding a people together. The stranger can visit and enjoy the celebration, but he can never fully par-ti~ ipate in it. He is not of the same culture. Culture as a Social Reality In its more common meaning as a complex of refinements and sensi-bilities, culture is likewise basically a social concept. The "cultivated" per-son is one whose sensibilities have been refined to perceive the beauty of the art and customs of a nation, to understand and use the language and literature that bind a people together, ultimately to understand the languages and customs that bind all men together. The use of such refinement as a device for. mere self-display produces a grotesque caricature, confusing cul-ture. with snobbery. True culture is essentially a social reality. The cultivated person is one who has mastered.the symbols of a society, the symbols which are the means of communication within that scciety. As a social reality, culture is an extension of the human body's ability to symbolize the soul to others. It is an extension produced by a consistent use of many details of life, perhaps insignificant in themselves but very sig-nificant in the pattern they form together. This extension is accomplished with other persons, who together create a circle of common gestures, lan-guage, dress, and other customs, a circle in which each individual feels at home, in which he can express himself and be confident,of understanding, since he is communicating with others in a familiar medium. The N~ed of Every Man for a Culture Every man needs such a culture in which to grow. The man in society needs to feel a certain rhythm about him which he knows and which he can use as a sounding board for his inner life, allowing him to concretize and control that inner life and, above all, to share it with others. Even the her-mit has taken with him his language and his manners which remain at least an unconscious reminder of the people he knows and which .allow him to Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 31 express to himself the life he is leading. The man without a culture is the barbarian, the one incapable of using the symbols of communication, the conventions of sharing; thus he is reduced to grunting his basic needs. Far from suppressing individual persons and ideas, the discipline of a culture provides a man with the means of expressing and developing his individuality. The great poets expressed their genius not by creating new and private languages, but by mastering their mother tongues. Perhaps the great attraction of the "hippy culture" was its success in mediating a solidarity and communication among its members. The pattern of the many external, insignificant details permitted one member to talk to another. The long, slightly matted hair, the beard, the colorful but bleached clothes, necessarily frayed at the edges, the beads, and above all, the vocabulary--these details, insignificant in themselves, formed a culture within which one hippy could understand another. The apparent contradic-tion between the hippy ideal of freedom in personal expression, on the one hand, and the strict conformity in dress and hair, on the other, can be un-derstood in the light of the enormous importance such details have when taken together to form a culture. Religious Culture In the same way the person who enters religious life needs a culture, The person who wishes to live his Christian life in intense simplicity and poverty, the person who seeks a prolonged meditative prayer needs a pat-tern of bodily symbols to concretize his aspirations, a sounding board against which he can objectify his ideals. Furthermore, he needs others who share his spiritual values and with whom he can communicate. He thus needs an atmosphere or pattern in which he can develop this life and communicate with others about this life. He needs a religious culture. It is not surprising to find at the historical origin of religious life the practice of spiritual di-rection, the practice of communicating profound religious insights and val-ues, oa practice which gradually of itself expanded into a pattern of religious customs, into a complete religious culture. Loss ~f Culture by Focus on Style Many communities .today have lost this sense of religious culture 'by focusing rather on the question of style. The emphasis on personal style in religious life has had the value of underlining the individual differences in a community, differences which enrich a.community. Yet, in fact, this same emphasis on personal style has broken down much of the consistent re-ligious patterns and symbols in congregationsland, as a result, much of the communication among the members. Diverse individuals and groups, each absorbed in its preferred style, became isolated from each other. Frequently one religious no longer knew if.another possessed the same spiritual sensi-bilities, the same interests, the same background on which communication Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 could be based. The least common denominator in a particular community became less and less. As religious life became a "life style," attention shifted from "life" to "style," and individuals charted their courses alone, away from each other. Presupposed in this pluralistic approach was the belief that each mem-ber of a community could work out his style of life by himself. The man who wished austerity could rise early by himself, eat frugally by himself, and by himself develop a contemplative form of prayer. Supposedly, the others in the same community who did not wish to share this desert could avail themselves of more bourgois amusements. This presupposition, however, neglects man's need for a culture. In effect, this emphasis on style has led to the introduction into the con-gregations of diversities normally holding among congregations. A particu-lar community could find itself composed of austere Trappists, Christian hippies, and mere professional bachelors, each with his own spirituality, each with his own style. Sharing the same province or even living under the same roof, members of communities began to look like strangers to each other. The fundamental element of religious life, spiritual direction, be-came impossible. Prayer life broke down, not through laziness, but through loneliness, through the inability to communicate with others about one's prayer. Formation of recruits became an impossible task, often involving a series of contradictory instructions as a young person passed from the recruiting community, to the novice master, and on through the stages of formation. Rebuilding Religious Culture At present most attempts to rebuild the bond among the members of a community tend in two distinct ways.', the one "theoretical," the other "recreational." The first consists of an attempt to find and concentrate on "the essen-tials." In the face of a bewildering variety of life styles, many communities have sought to articulate the essence of their life, the core reality that every-one could accept, on which everyone could concentrate, allowing then the accidentals to vary according to individual preferences. The theologians were asked to present in clear terms the essence of religious life. General chapters met and held their breath, waiting for this description of the essence. They will probably continue to wait for some time, because the task of articulating the essence of such a concrete and mysterious reality as re-ligious life appears as an impossible job. Whatever "essential trait" is sei~ed upon, whether some particular vow, the three vows, or community life, there appears in history or in the present some obviously religious form of life that flourished or is presently flourishing without it. The appeal to ca-nonical definitions likewise fails to point out an essence of the life, since Religious Li]e: Style or Culture? / 33 these definitions appear more as descriptions after the fact, more as arti-ficially clear and distinct deliniations required for the legal functioning of the Church than as theological penetrations into the fundamental structure of the life. Like peeling away the successive skins to find the onion, the-ologians peeled away the "accidents" but found little left to identify as an essence. The second method of rebuilding the bond among the members of a community is far more down to earth and consists on stressing "the com-mon fun." While awaiting the perfect theology of religious life, people can do something practical. They can recreate together and in that recreation seek to build a community. Such suggestions as "Let's fire the cook and make our own meals together!" or "Everybody in the club room tonight for cocktails!" often clothe desperate attempts to build community. Certainly this effort has served well by focusing on the real need for sim-ple friendliness in communities (to say nothing of the marvelous cooks pro-duced). Yet the idea of common life meant more to the ancients than our attempts at common fun. Such a shallow basis of life does not attract dedi-cated young people. If all they see is this recreational aspect of our lives, they will hardly be convinced to sacrifice spouse and children for a con-viviality that can never approximate the intensity and warmth of a natural family. The community recreation is important, but it can never form the basis of religious common life. The Need to Reestablish a Religious Culture The isolation and loneliness vitiating communities can be overcome only by reestablishing a whole religious culture, a consistent and relatively stable milieu in which religious can feel at home as religious, a pattern of con-crete practices through which one religious can express his deep spiritual values to another. The precise culture will vary with each congregation. Any form, how-ever, will demand certain general lines. First, a religious culture demands an attention to a multitude of accidental details, many of which when taken alone may appear insignificant and even superficial. Neither the cut of the clothes, nor the simplicity in a house, nor the hour of rising appears worthy of an intense crusade. It is useless to seek a rationale directly behind such details, and the temptation exists to peel them away one by one, to peel them away as though from some essential core. Yet insofar as it is a cul-ture, the essence of religious life may be inseparable from the sum total of the "accidents." A religious culture does not stand or fall with any particu-lar detail, but the simple removal of each accidental reduces by that much the identifiability of that culture. Second, any religious culture is necessarily built around the form of prayer of the community, more specifically, around the degree of con-templation a community chooses to practice. A particular type of prayer 34 / Review for Religious, l/olume 33, 1974/1 often requires an ambience, a degree of calm, a type of simplicity regulat-ing the details of the whole day. Conversely, a particular form of contempla-tive prayer colors all else: personal service, the celebration of the Eucharist, professional work. The type and degree of mental prayer is thus a key ele-ment in any religious culture. Third, religious culture, like any culture, requires a willingness of the members to sacrifice personal preferences for the consistency of a com-munity atmosphere, to place a social culture before a personal style. This is not to say that the culture must take the form of some immobile mass of customs. Customs must evolve. As practices no longer serve to communicate the spiritual inspiration of a community, as gestures lose their symbolic values, they should disappear. However, a culture must change as a culture. It must evolve on,the basis of other more stable elements, not on the basis of members darting off in their own directions, according to the demands of personal style. ¯ Within the context of such a religious culture, the search for the essence of religious life can continue, guided not simply by an abstract analysis, but, .more importantly, by a lived contact with the reality. Since religious life is received by man as gift, not produced by him as invention, since the life is fundamentally beyond his natural powers, he will probably never attain that clear insight into the nature of the life that results in a precise defini-tion. Our speech about religious life will probably always be dominated more by poetic intuition than by abstract concept, a poetic intuition that feels at home with small details and operates from a position within the object spoken of. Likewise, the efforts to improve community recreation should have an important part in the building of religious culture. The simple kindness and conviviality of a community recreation can be a powerful expression of the fundamental value of fraternal love, if this expression is part of a greater milieu. Culture and Personal Development Where the individual religious finds a living and consistent culture, there he will find the medium in which to express his unique individuality. In the expressed solidarity of a group, a member has the means of developing a truly personalized life. There he has the means of expressing for himself and for others his unique riches. A culture which involves even many small details will not stifle individuality. As the expression of the spirit, a culture will function as a guide and an agent of personal development. Only a vibrant culture in religious life will dispel the present loneliness. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious Sister Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is a faculty member of West Catholic Girls High School and,lives at the Convent of the Holy Child Jesus; 4724 Cedar Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19143. ~ Six years have passed since the CMSW undertook the monumental study known as the Sisters Survey in an attempt to delve into the thinking and feelings of the religious who participated. Prescinding from the reported findings, one can suspect that even the launching of such a study had value simply as a consciousness-raising device. Foremost among the areas of re-ligious life that came under scrutiny was the, dynamics of group living that we call community life. Explosive--because it is inescapably personal-- and sacrosanct--because it is integral to religious traditions and the essence of religious life as we understand it, the whole topic of group living by re-ligious is subject to biased interpretations. Why? Perhaps just because celibates need so much from community life. Perhaps just because we de, pend so much on life in community to underwrite the whole structure of the social apostolates in which we engage. Perhaps just because an ideal form of community life promises to make tangible and present the kingdom of God toward which we daily strive. Size and Cohesiveness Whatever the reason, there can be no doubt that community is a prime concern among religious and that size as related to cohesion is a pivotal area. In order to bring empirical objectivity into an issue clouded with un-conscious and often conflicting biases, the author undertook a research 35 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 project designed to investigate the effects of size on the cohesiveness of groups of religious living together in local communities. By devising a method to quantify the degree of cohesion exhibited through the affective choices made by members of several large and small communities, it was possible to make a comparison based on evidence more objective than opinion and more concrete than theory. Background The CMSW Survey in 1967 showed that 59.7% of the 125,000 sisters who responded to it felt that there was an optimal size of community groups beyond which it would be impossible for members living together to become a community. (Though the Survey did not define the term com-munity, it is patent from much of the literature of the day that sisters under-stand some special sense of fraternity and solidarity or cohesiveness that should be characteristic of the shared life of religious who live together.) Among the Sisters of the Holy Child Jesus, who were the subjects of the research project on which this article is based, an even greater majority-- 78.2%--concurred in the opinion expressed on the CMSW Survey instru-ment. In subsequent years a plethora of literature praising small group living has led to a general belief among religious in the therapeutic value of the small local community as the preventative for malformation of personality and as a booster shot for personal fulfillment through the healthy human interaction indispensable for strong ego-building? The impetus for the renewal of religious life given by Vatican II in-corporated much that flowed from the best developments of social psy-chology. In this context the drive to revivify the apostolate of the Church required that religious orders of men and women march in tune with the personalism of the culture of which they are a part. Definition of the Problem From this two-pronged incentive of development in the social sciences and updating in the Church, there arose interest in the applicability of many facets of small group research to religious communities. Focusing on the i~ssumptions that in a given group (1) more frequent interaction conse-quent on smaller nfimbers of members tends to produce more cohesive groups and (2) members of a small cohesive group will experience more strong satisfying interpersonal relationships than members of a larger group, the author undertook an empirical study of eleven groups of re-ligious sisters for the purpose of developing an index of cohesiveness that would enable comparisons to be made between larger and smaller groups, 1Gabriel Moran and Maria Harris, Experiences in Community (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968). This is one of many possible examples. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious and thus promise an objective test of the hypotheses involved. In brief, those hypotheses state that community size will have a signifi-cant effect both on the number of members with whom one can have good positive relationships and also on the proportionate number of people in community with whom one can have such relationships. Definilion of Key Words Certain key words must be defined in accordance with their use in this ¯ study in order to provide a common working base. The following appear to be most important: 1. cohesion 2. good, positive relationship 3. group--small, large Because of characteristics peculiar to religious orders, the task of defining terms is more complicated than simply borrowing from highly quoted au-thors in the field. A method of definition by distillation was employed in areas where circumstances required. A prime example was the term cohesion. In consulting authors,~ one is confronted with a notion of forces constraining members to remain in the group. But there is nothing in the literature that seems to correspond to the force of perpetual vows which bind the religious to membership in the re-ligious institute and to residence in specific local communities according to the directives from authorities in the order. Two levels of "force" are in-herent in the situation of the religious. One revolves around the strength of his commitment to the religious life itself and the second around the de-gree of commitment with which he engages in the affairs of the local house in which he lives--a commitment arising basically from a sense of duty toward an ideal based outside of the group in which he lives. A third force, distinct from the levels mentioned above, yet probably to some extent conditioned by his whole approach to religious life, is the at-traction that the local community holds for the religious by reason of the rapport he feels with particular members of that given group at any one time. Since all the groups used in this study operate under the same two forces resulting from religious profession in the order, it appears that the third type of force is more germane to our purposes here. Therefore, cohe-sion in this study denoted ". the degree of attachment (involvement, be-longingness, importance) that members have for the group.":' In this con-text then cohesion refers to the obvious capacity of the group to satisfy the ~The writings of men like Cartwright and Zander or Festinger, Schachter, and Back are typical. :~Clovis R. Shepherd, Small Groups: Some Sociological Perspectives (San Francisco: Chandler, 1964), p. 25. 311 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 personal needs of its members. It is this connotation that is meant by "strong, satisfying, interpersonal relationships" referred to in the second assumption; and this is the definition of good, positive relationships used in this work. (Though use of the word "friendship" might be a more graceful way of ex-pressing these ideas, its use is being purposefully avoided to.allow for a more open-ended definition of friendship to be employed later in the pre-sentation. ) By small groups, we shall mean groups of between 6 and 11 members and the large groups used in the study ranged from 12 to 29. Procedure The procedure used in the research involved a sociogram-like type of questionnaire in which the respondents were asked to list any number of sisters with whom they had lived during the last year and with whom they would enjoy engaging in a series of activities ranging from purely recrea-tional, to work related, to deeper, more intimate sharing on the religious plane. In every situation the emphasis was on the natural affectivity of one sister for her companions and not any exercise of supernatural charity? Approximately 91% of the sisters responded thus providing the researcher with excellent material from which to construct four measures of cohesion. Three of these stemmed from analysis of who chose whom and how often. By diagrammatically presenting the chain of relationships resulting from tracing the choices of the most frequently chosen individuals as they re-lated to the others in. community, a distance factor was developed. Finally, a study was made of the average number of "good friends" that the sisters INDEX OF COHESION AS DEVELOPED THROUGH THIS STUDY Community z-score corrected distance use of per- average size order ranking z-scores factor sonality votes rank " A 1 1 1 1 1 B 3 2 2 2 2 C 8 3 5 6 6 D 2 5 4 4 3 E 4 7 3 5 4 F 5 6 9 9 7 G 6 4 7 3 5 H 9 10 8 8 l0 I ll 11 6 7 8.5 J 7 8 10 10 8.5 K 10 9 11 11 I1 4For a complete exposition of the steps involved in the research readers are referred to the original work by the author, Sister Jane Marie Kerns, A Quantitative Analysis o[ Size and Cohesion (unpublished M.A. thesis, St. Louis University, 1973). Size and the Cohesiveness oI Groups of Religious / 39 in each house claimed. In this phase of the project each respondent was permitted to define the phrase "good friend" in any way that she felt was adequate and then she was asked to tell how many such "good friends" she had in the~ community in which she lived. Analysis of this section revolved around both the absolute number of good friends claimed and the number proportionate to the size of the community. Interpretation of Results A word of caution is in order here. Before any interpretation of the results can be presented, it must be remembered that this study was de-signed to measure relative cohesion only. It cannot be stretched to comment on disunity, on morale, or on working efficiency of the groups involved; and it must be seen as a measure of natural affectivity--a factor which cannot be assumed to be the dominant motive force for most of the group's activity. This caution is necessary both to maintain a scientific discipline and also to prevent our losing sight of the supernatural aspects of community life that cannot have been explored in this kind of work. Be that as it may, it is still remarkable to notice that the study revealed the presence of no isolates--persons not chosen by any other members of a group--in any of the eleven communities totaling 141 religious. Not only are there no iso-lates, but in actual count there is no, member of any community who was not chosen by at /east 21% of the members of the community who re-plied--- by no fewer than 50% of the members in 7 out of the 1! com-munities. Therefore, it can be insisted that we are justified only in conclud-ing to relatively more or less cohesion but not to any implication of disunity or disaffection. Size as a Significant Factor It can be stated unequivocally that the empirical evidence presented points to size as a significant factor in the study of cohesion. There is every reason to conclude that the smaller, the group, the more the members demonstrate stronger natural choices for a wider segment of the group. But hidden within this general overall conclusion are several important considerations that must be brought to light. Whereas the techniques used here demonstrated the validity of the commonly held belief that small groups tend to be more cohesive, the ques-tion dealing with friendship upset the commonly held expectation that more good friendships are found within small groups and that theoexistence of such friendships is the reason for greater cohesion. From our study the results indicated that such a line o[ r~easoning is faulty. In the first place, smaller houses reported neither a greater number of friendships absolutely nor a greater number proportionately speaking. Hence, friendship and co-hesion are not synonymous nor are they positively related. Rather, it might be concluded that they are alternatives within the group process. 40 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 Two possible lines of thought might be adduced to explain the seeming contradictions posed by the fifth stage of the investigation. First, by de-veloping and combining some of the thought of Simmel~ and of Mancur Olson'~ with regard to small groups, a synthesis can be arrived at which sheds light on the subject. Simmel's contribution springs from his conten-tions that smaller groups have qualities, including types of interaction among their members, which inevitably disappear when the groups grow larger. Olson points to a major difference between large and small groups when he formulates as a principle: ". the larger the group, the less it will further its common interests." Second, by appropriating some of the insights of Sister Joan Michele Rake7 and blending them with the thought of Simmel and Olson, the contradiction of fewer friendships in more cohesive groups is dissolved. Sister Joan Michele draws the boundaries between "engulf-ment" by the community and self-development of the healthy religious who makes good use of the structures of community. Hers is not so much a study of the effect of size but rather a clarification of issues on some of the dynamics at work in any group. The Specifics of Small Groups Consider the relative investment that members of a small group must make in order to obtain the benefits of membership and conversely the mag-nitude of the slack that must be taken up by the remaining members if one member fails to carry his own weight. More specifically, consider the num-ber of functions that must bc performed smoothly if life in the house is to be mutually beneficial. Since the small group enables not only face-to-face rela-tionships but even more importantly, person-to-person contact and consul-tation, many of the decisions reached and the functions implicit in the religious life lived in community are arrived at and disseminated tacitly. For example, each one knows from personal experience that does not need explicitation that communal worship can only be consummated if the com-munity is present and each one knows that in a small house her absence is both noticed and keenly felt. The differential involved is not merely a quan-titative one, but actually a qualitative one. There is a certain unspecified number below which communal worship declines into merely a collection of individuals attending the same liturgical function. And it is this height-ened sense of awareness of the qualitative contribution made by personal participation of each that typifies the small group. Person-to-person contact makes possible agreement--implicit or ex-plicit-- on common goals of a more specific nature than can be formulated '~Kurt H. Wolff, The Sociology o] Georg Simmel (Glencoe: Free Press, 1950), p. 87. ~;Mancur Olson, The Logic o] Collective Action (New York: Schocken, 1968), p. 36. rSister Joan Michele Rake, Friendship in Religious Li]e (unpublished M.A. thesis, Duquesne University, 1969), Chap. 7. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups o]. Religious / 41 when a larger number of individuals is involved. And converSely, devia-tion from the commonly accepted ideas is more obvious and therefore re-quires more of an expenditure of psychic energy for continued adherence on the part of the deviant and more of an effort on the part of the group as a whole to combat either by modifying the idea or by converting the deviant member. Whether we speak of positive elements that tend to unite or of negative elements that tend to threaten the group's solidarity, there is more immediate response required, a greater expenditure of personal effort on the part of each member in the small group, and a return in the way of benefits of group membership commensurate with the effort expended. The Specifics of Large Groups In the large group the sahae level of return is expected, but the level of expectation of individual participation is lower. Since person-to-person com-munication on. :every issue and between every set of persons is too time-consuming and too indeterminate in the process of seeking consensus, cer-tain abstractions in the form of community mechanisms, offices, and so forth must be established and these become looked upon as the expression of group cohesion that can no longer be immediately and obviously attained. The areas of shared ideas becom6 somewhat more general and, therefore, more readily acceptable to the total group in spite of the greater variety of opinions. In turn these more abstract expressions of relations and more general types of agreements require less commitment on the part of the individual. Though the ideas themselves may be less "radical," less basically rooted in the peculiar characteristics of the group, more generalized, ad-herence to the ideas becomes more radical, more a bare minimum that can-not be sacrificed if group unity is to be maintaini~d. A full complement of the members is not required to constitute a "com-munity presence." Absenteeism is not as noticeable--certainly not as per-tains to the particular individual who is absent, since her personal contribu-tion has in some ways become distanced or formalized in the large group setting. Differences between Small and Large Groups Wha~t results from the above discussion is an argument to the effect that the demonstrably greater cohesion among the small group members results more from a heightened sense of personal investment and personal con-cern, a greater consciousness of the personal element in the affairs of the house, a greater consonance between the individual's own approach to life since his personality enters more fully into the determination of group atti-tudes, a greater sense of the interdependence of the persons in the com-munity in all its affairs---especially because they answer directly to and for each other. In the larger group some degree of personalism is lost as the sheer force of numbers demands some degree of abstraction and the substi- Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 tution of shared symbols that can be immediately present to all when the person-to-person common search for common understanding is not practi-cal, The sense of interdependence is therefore "once removed" with the result that the individual who has to expend less of herself in contributing to and in conforming to more general ideas is then .freer to develop inde-pendently of the group in more areas. Not only is there in larger groups more room for individualism to fluorish and a greater variety of personality types emerging (assuming of course the absence of any rigorous pressure to conform in all respects), but this sharper differentiation among component personalities enables stronger, more particularized dyadic relationships to de-velop out of the shared responses. Hence, we see the application of Simmel's principle that the quantitative increase in size of a group leads to a qualitative differentiation ~on the part of the individuals.8 Simmel holds that an individual tends to maintain a certain balance between the social and the individual aspects of his life. When he is involvi~d in a small group with a high profile for cohesiveness or for strong identity as a group, he has little opportunity to express his own individuality--and little need to do so since there is satisfaction offered in the group. But when he is involved in a larger group with a less ~iell-defined profile, °one that is less consonant with his unique personality since it is necessarily more generalized, he then finds scope--indeed he must--to express his individuality. As the group gains in individuality ~(a situation that pertains to small groups), the individual loses and vice versa. The Question of Friendship Sister Joan Michele believes that wherever the "corporate mentality" is strong among religious--that is, a tendency to look on the group life as an exercise in efficiency--it will be more difficult for 'real friendships to grow. If friendship is ". an encounter between two persons. [which] results in an enduring nonexclusive relation which is lived as a gift of affinity and affection and occasions the autonomous growth of the persons involved,''~ it can only flourish where there is a real encounter of unique personalities --personalities well-developed, mature, sharing a common ground in .their search for truth, and coming, as it were, by chance upoh an unconscious, mysterious affinity that raises comrades, colleagues, and companions. above those levels of association to a new plane that is by no means the necessary consequence of living in community. Precisely what dynamics are generated by the presence of more or fewer dyadic relationships could not be explored in this project since the identity of "good friends" was not revealed; but it has been necessary to digress into these areas ever so slightly, simply to make the point that the cfn-~ 8Wolff, The Sociology o! Simmel, p. 87. '~Rake, Friendship, p. 52. Size and the Cohesiveness of Groups of Religious / 43 clusions reached in this research are quite validly and integrally consistent with the general direction of small group theory. Yet there is real danger that they may lend themselves to simplistic interpretations that do not con-vey the whole picture. The research has confirmed the theory that (1) community size does have a significant effect on the number of members with whom one can have good, positive relationships---both the absolute number and the proportionate number of members; and that (2) the smaller size communities are the ones that exhibit these good, posi-tive relationships more frequently. Equally important, however, are the findings resulting from the question on friendship; namely, the members living in larger groups tend to report both a greater number of "good friends" and to consider a greater proportion of members of the com-munity in the category of "good friends." The above statement when coupled with the theory of writers like Van Kaam, Sister Joan Michele, and even classical authors such as Simmel indi-cates there are ways in which the more cohesive small groups are at the same time more restricted in opportunities for developing friendship and that friendship might actually exist as an alternative to cohesiveness, not as a concomitant element. Practical Conclusions Taking a step beyond the scientifically validated conclusions of the study itself and addressing the practical value of all this for the present-day religious community, there are perhaps two major points to be considered. The first point of practical concern for religious is the importance of the absence of isolates from the communities studied and the commentary this is on the ability of religious who share the overall goals of the religious institute to assimilate members into a community even when religious have no voice in choosing where or with whom they will live. Though this point cannot be pushed beyond the limits mentioned earlier, it can be cited as evidence that the freedom in assigning personnel that has been a plus factor enabling religious groups to function efficiently in the apostolate is not in and of itself incompatible with the desire to provide living condi-tions that foster good interpersonal relationships. The second point to be made is that decisions regarding community size (where circumstances allow for either possibility) might reasonably be made in favor of smaller community groups at a time when the call to re-newal emphasizes our need to search together for a more radical commit-ment to the essence of religious life. If sociologists and psychologists are correct in their assessment of the differential in ability of various size groups to reach consensus at various levels of abstraction, certainly religious would do well to make use of this knowledge in their efforts to re-create 44 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 in the Spirit the shared faith that brought their institutes into being. Further-more, if the members of congregations are appraised of what can and cannot be achieved in groups of various sizes, realistic expectations can constitute solid foundations auguring well for solid progress. Structures of themselves will never cure. But they can facilitate if used wisely, and they can hinder if used poorly or ignored. Size is not of itself a panacea, nor a Pandora's box. Perhaps we have mistakenly held in the past that the same quality of religious life can exist with six or sixty in the community. As we eschew past folly, let us not perpetuate new foolishness by assuming that small size will do more than facilitate the emergence of a faith sharing which will depend for its quality, not on numbers but on the grace of God realized in the lives of those who grow together toward the fulfillment of their covenant with both God and His People. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities John Allyn Melloh, S.M. Father John Allyn Melloh, S.M., a member of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, lives at the Marianist Residence; 4528 Maryland Avenue; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. The Liturgy of the Hours should not be looked on as a beautiful monument of a past age, to be preserved almost unchanged in order to excite our admira-tion. On the contrary, it should come to life again with new meaning and grow to become once more the sign of a living community.--The General Instruc-tion on the Liturgy of the Hours, paragraph 273 Reform, renewal, restoration of the liturgy is always one of the paramount concerns of any ecumenical council; Vatican II was no exception. Desirous of "imparting an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1), the Council fathers placed liturgical reform top on the list of their priorities. If the liturgical celebrations of the People of God were to be a "foretaste of that heavenly liturgy which is celebrated in the holy city of Jerusalem toward which we journey as pilgrims" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 8), then much renewal was needed, lest the pilgrim people of Yahweh seek a new city-~one where celebration was indeed a reality! Restoration of Eucharistic praxis, as well as an updating of other sacra-mental ritual celebrations, was essential for the nourishment of Christian piety and the mediation of the salvific graces to all mankind (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 1 !). Equally important for the liturgical life of the ekklesia was the restoration of the Divine Office, the Liturgy of the Hours, the "public prayer of the Church" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 90). In the age of aggiornamento, this "wonderful song 45 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 of praise" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 84), which had all but entirely disappeared, had to be revived; and a genuine "revival" was needed for the "voice of the bride addressed to her bridegroom" (Constitu-tion on the Sacred Liturgy, paragraph 83) had become mute. This "very prayer which Christ himself, together with his body, addresses to the Father," had become, over the ages, a prayer which Christ, along with a few isolated members--becoming fewer day by day--of His Church addressed to the Father. The opus Dei had become the onus Dei.t General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours Almost ten years later, in February 1971, the Sacred Congregation of Divine Worship issued the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours. In five chapters, full of good solid Christology, ecclesiology, and spirituality, this document speaks of the Liturgy of the Hours as a viable prayer form for the Church--even in 1973! Perhaps one of the most significant Roman documents issued of late, and certainly the longest and most theological document ever issued on the topic of the Divine Office, the General Instruc-tion makes clear that the intent is the restoration and revitalization of the Liturgy of the Hours. The "ptiblic and communal prayer of the people of God is rightly considered among the first duties of the Church" (General Instruction, paragraph 1), for the ekklesia is most itself, achieves its own special identity, and fulfills its mission when the assembly is together at prayer, especially at liturgical prayer. Vatican II has consciously and firmly asked that~the Liturgy of the Hours once again be prayed, that this prayer form once again be given life by the living People of God--that it may become a living prayer and that the entire Church may "offer praise to God . . . in singing that canticle of praise which is sung throughout all ages in the halls of heaven" (General Instruction, paragraph 16). The New Book of the Liturgy of the Hours A day to be hailed in litui'gical circles was 23 June, 1971, for on that day, L'osservatore romano published Laudis canticum, officially promulgat-ing the new book of the Liturgy of the Hours. The work of Vatican II and its liturgical commission had borne fruit. The new edition of that book once called the "Breviary" had been arranged and prepared in such a way as to encourage the faithful to celebrate the hours. Once again, this necessary complement to Eucharistic worship and sacramental practice was restored so that it would become "the prayer of the whole people of God" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). At least now there was a chance that should one of the faithful stumble across the Prayer of Christians he might recognize it! In the new edition--albeit interim--of the Liturgy of the Hours genuine reforms were made. Structure of the hours was modified, the cycle of Psalmody changed, intercessor3/prayer introduced--all with a view to pub- The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 47 lic celebration of the Hours of Prayer. In its restored form, the Divine Office was to be a "font of piety and nourishment for personal prayer" (Laudis canticum, L'osservatore romano, page 1 ). Toward a Revitalized Celebration The documents of Vatican II, the General Instruction on the Liturgy of the Hours, Laudis canticum--all ask that the prayer of Christ be con-tinued by the members of His Body; earnestly they request that this prayer of Jesus be continued in the revitalized celebration of the Liturgy of the Hour's. It is in our spatio-temporal matrix that groups of praying men and women can continue this prayer of the Lord who lives ever making inter-cession for us (Heb 7:25). Communal prayer will once again take root in the Church at large, replacing, in part, private prayer, especially that form of private recitation of the Office which is a liturgical anomaly. Once again the Church-united may celebrate the prayer of the Hours "to give Him glorious praise" (Ps 66:2). The General Instruction on the Litu.rgy of the Hours, despite the wealth of genuine theological principles and very fine material for meditative re-flection, is rather weak in detailing how the Liturgy of the Hours may "be celebrated in communities--"celebrated" as opposed to "recited," "said," or "read." In the following pages, it is my intent to ,describe how the Liturgy of the Hours is celebrated in our Marianist community in St.Louis, Missouri; likewise, since Evensong was celebrated each evening at St. Mary's University in San Antonio, Texas, during the. 1973 summer session, using the same format of celebration, I would like to include comments from those who participated in those liturgical celebrations. Morning Praise Matins consecrates to God the first movements of our minds and hearts; no other care should engage us before we have been moved with the thought of God, as it is written, "I thought of God and sighed" (Ps 76:4), nor should the body undertake any work before we have done what is said, "I say this prayer to you, Lord, for at daybreak you listen for my voice; and at dawn I hold myself in readiness for you, I watch for you" (Ps 5:4-5).--The General Instruction on the Liturgy o] the Hours, paragraph 38; quotation from St. Basil Morning itself conveys the notion of rebirth and renewal; the gift of God--a new day to be lived out in Christ--stirs the soul of the Christian to prais.e and to supplicationl The character of the Morning Office quite naturally becomes an act of dedication, of preparation, of offering the first fruits of the day's labor to the Lord, in the hope that the entire day will be pleasing in His sight. As Morning Praise is celebrated in our community, a vested celebrant enters the chapel and greets the community after reverencing the altar. A Morning Hymn is sung; this hymn thematically recalls the symbol of God who is light (1 Jn 1:5) and of Christ who is the Sun of Justice (Mal 4:2). Review for Religious, I"olume 33, 1974/1 Praise and thanksgiving for light--both natural and supernatural-colors the sung praise of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. A redeemed people, brought from darkness to the kingdom of God's beloved Son (Col l:13), from darkness of idolatry to the light of the Gospel, we praise our God for crea-tion, for redemption--for the light of day and the light of Christ. A brief penitential rite--an offering of incense--follows the hymn. During the incensation of the standing community, Psalm 51 or 63 is sung. St. Basil explains: "When day is breaking, all together, as from one heart, sing the Psalm of confession [Ps 51] to the Lord, each one making his own these words of repentance." John Chrysostom points out that Psalm 63, an ardent cry of longing for the Lord, is also a Psalm of purification, giving voice to the Christian's awareness of his weakness and need for the loving mercy of the Lord. A collect concludes this brief prayer for purification and readies the community for the celebration of the Word of God. The community is seated during the singing of the morning Psalmody. Psalms of praise, especially the traditional morning Psalms 148 through 150, are used. Ordinarily, only one Psalm is sung and the usual mode of singing is responsorial. Psalms are chosen according to themes well suited for a morning prayer. A significant pause for silent prayer follows the singing of the Psalmody. An appropriate Psalter collect, stressing praise of the beneficent God, concludes the sung Psalmody. An adequate rhythm of community prayer is enhanced through the use of lectio continua in Morning Praise. Especially appropriate are Old Testa-ment selections; since the Epistles and Gospels are proclaimed during the celebration of Evensong or the Eucharist. The choice of readings varies with the Church year. After a period of silence of several minutes, all stand for the singing of the Gospel Canticle of Zachary, which accompanies the offering of incense. As a symbol of intercessory prayer "going up" in the Lord's sight (Rev 8:3-4)--a survival of the Temple usages described in Exodus 29 and 30-- the offering of incense is made at the altar, which is then incensed. Intercessory prayer is generally a brief morning litany which concen-trates on themes of renewal, dedication for the work of the day, prayer for God's continual blessing throughout the day. Usually the prayer is sung; and on penitential days the community kneels for this prayer, which is con-cluded by an appropriate collect. The Lord's Prayer, which Tertullian has called the "epitome of the Gospel itself," that eschatological prayer which stresses the primacy of the kingdom and the life of those living in it, can be considered the climax of the Office. The prayer is always sung and the congregation prays it in the usual orans position. A blessing concludes the Morning Office--the prayer of praise of God, of thanksgiving for creation and redemption, and of ardent desire for the life of the Kingdom. The Liturgy of the Hours in Religious Communities / 49 Evensong Our fathers did not think it right to receive the blessing of evening light in silence. Rather, the moment it appeared, they would praise and thank God for it.--St. Basil, Treatise on the Holy Spirit As day is drawing to a close and the evening is upon us, the Christian community gathers to give thanks "for what has been given us during the day, or for the things we have done well during it" (St. Basil, Regulae fusius tractatae, Resp. 37, 3; PG 31, 1015). With an evening light service, the celebration of Evensong commences. To the proclamation: Jesus Christ is the Light of the world! intoned by a vested deacon, the congregation responds: A Light that no darkness can extinguish! During the ceremonial illumination of the church, the lighting of the candles and the lighting of the chapel lights, an evening hymn is sung. Ordinarily the Phos Hilaron is sung in one of its several settings, or another appropriate evening hymn, stressing the theme of Christ our Light, is sung. A diaconal proclamation, an act of thanksgiving for the blessings of light and an act of praise of God, concludes the light service. An evening act of contrition, an offering of incense, follows; and Psalm 141, "The Psalm at the kindling of lights," accompanies the liberal incensa-tion of the community. This offering of incense, an atonement symbol (Num 17:11-3), is a purificatory action. It should help the Christian com-munity recall the "sweet odor of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor 2:14-6) and be a symbol expressive of that saving blood of the Lamb who ever lives to make intercession for us (Heb 7:25). An appropriate Psalter collect is a conclu-sion to this ritual action. Evening Psalmody is sung responsorially. Ordinarily only one Psalm, in addition to Psalm 141, is sung in the evening. Evening themes of thanks-giving for the blessings of the day and repentance for inevitable daily failings can be found in the Psalter. Such Psalms are appropriate for the evening Office. A period of meditative silence of significant length follows the sing-ing, and this period of prayer is concluded with the praying of a collect. The reading from Scripture is taken from the cycle of readings in the new lectionary. Customarily, Epistle and/or Gospel readings are used in the evening. A homily is preached when Evensong is celebrated immediately preceding the community evening dinner. The period of meditative silence is broken by the singing of the Gospel Canticle of the Virgin Mary which accompanies the offering of incense. In line with the use of incense as a symbol of intercessory prayer, the altar is honored with incense to affirm our belief and real participation in the com-munion of saints (Rev 8:3-4). Gospel Canticles, reverenced as the good news of salvation, are always sung standing. A fundamental part of Christian prayer, intercession for the universal needs of the Church and the world, is offered, following the urgings of Paul (1 Tim 2:1-4). The traditional Byzantine Litany of Peace is often 50 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/1 sung as one form of intercessory prayer. Other litanies are also used. One of the most famous and popular of the Eastern hymns is the Tri-sagion, which came into wide usage after the Council of Chalcedon in the fifth century. A hymn of Trinitarian praise and thanksgiving as used with the doxology, it is a fitting introduction to the prayer given us by Jesus. It is essentially of the same prayer style of praise and thanksgiving as we find in the prayer given by Jesus and as such it is a beautiful sung introduc-tion. Expressing an ardent desire for the coming of the kingdom and a solemn plea for the forgiveness of sin and genuine fraternal reconciliation, the Lord's Prayer is a most fitting conclusion to the Christian Office. A solemn blessing, most often tripartite in form, is the dismissal of the community, an invocation of the power of God upon the assembly and a petition for the mercy and loving kindness of the Almighty Lord in whose name we have gathered. At times, the Kiss of Peace is exchanged at the conclusion of Evensong, as a symbol of the peace of the kingdom, that peace which alone can be given by the Lord of that dominion. ' Resurrection Vigil of the Lord's Day Come,O faithful: let us drink a new drink, produced miraculously not from a barren rock, but springing from the tomb which is a fountain of immortality: the tomb of Christ by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Today the whole creation, he~iven and earth and the deepest abysses of the earth are filled with joy. Let the whole universe celebrate the resurrection by which we are strengthened. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Yesterday I was buried with You, O Christ! Today I rise with You in your resurrection. Yesterday I was crucified with you: glorify me with you in your kingdom. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Christ is risen from the dead! He has crushed death by his death and bestowed life upon those who lay in the tomb. Glory to your holy resurrection, O Lord! Jesus is risen indeed, as He had foretold: He has given us eternal life and abundant mercy.--Third Ode, Easter Canon of John of Damascus Byzantine Daily Worship, Easter Sunday, page 849 These words contain the spirit of unrestrained joy of the Christian who encounters the Paschal Mystery of the Lord Jesus. The sense of triumph, of joy, of exultation, and of hope permeate this entire text. While the vigil of the Easter celebration of the resurrection is truly "Mother of all Vigils," nevertheless a weekly commemoration of the Pascha of the Lord is in the mainline tradition of the Church. The celebration of the Resurrection vigil of the Lord's Day, which takes place at eleven o'clock Saturday evening, is a wonderful preparation for the Eucharistic Banquet of the Lord's Day. It is a rich and deep experi-ence of the mystery of the passion, death, and resurrection of our Lord and The Liturgy o] the Hours in Religious Communities / 51 Savior Jesus Christ, celebrated communally with hymnody, Psalmody, and readings. The Night Watch, that time when we gather as a community, to recall the resurrection of Jesus and to pray for His glorious return, is a service of the Word celebrated with grandeur. The chapel is in darkness awaiting the appearance of the New Light. A vested presbyter and vested deacon enter, bearing the lighted Paschal Candle. The diaconal proclamation of Christ as the Light of the World begins the celebration, and the ceremonial illumina-tion of the church is accompanied by the singing of the Phos Hilaron. A Byzantine setting of Radiant Light, arranged for three-part singing, is a magnificent hymn of light praising Father,' Son, and Holy Spirit. The Paschal Candle is honored with incense during the singing. The deacon sings Hip-polytus' Easter Hymn or the Paschal Praeconium, giving voice to the joyful thanksgiving of the Christian assembly. The singing of Psalm 141, with its accompanying offering of incense, is polyphonic. While this ritual action is an evening act of contrition, it is nevertheless a joy-filled, because confident, plea for the loving kindness of the Lord who always awaits with eagerness the return of those who have been unfaithful. Concluding this action of repentance is an appropriate collect. At times the singing of Psalm 141 is omitted in favor of using a differ-ent Psalm, one with Paschal overtones. The second Psalm, sung respon-sorially, takes on a Paschal character through the use of alleluia antiphons. The great cry "Alleluia" re-echoes in the hearts of those who have experi-enced the risen Lord and Psalms of praise express the gratitude of the as-sembly for the Great Passage of the Lord. One of the charismatic speeches recorded in Acts with a sung respon-sorial Psalm or an appropriate patristic reading is the First Lesson, followed by a distinct pause for reflection on and assimilation of the text. The Gospel Alleluia is intoned as the Book of Gbspels is incensed. The account of the Resurrection is sung by the d

Issue 28.1 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR ¯ R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3~i Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited v¢ith ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial ottices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimontbly and copyright ~) 1969 by RE',q~w r.a RELIGIOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class pos!age paid .'at Baltimore, .Maryblnd. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order_paya-ble to R~-:viEw :-'o~ RELtGIOt:S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to r~present R~vlew FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address¯ Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom. panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvlgw :"OR Rr:LG~OUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to R~:vlEw FOR RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MarTland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REvlr:w rOa R~L~GIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint ~ouis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answermg should be sent to the address Gf the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY ~969 VOLUME ~8 NUMBER t REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Volume 28 1969 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston'Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Dlederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in the Catholic Peri. odical Index and in Boo/~ Re. view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Ml. crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. HILARY SMITH, O.C.D. Qgiet Prayer for Busy Busy religious today seem to be shying away from more contemplative approaches to prayer. The references to quiet and recollection in the older spiritual books are considered now to refer back to a time when every-one's approach to God was modeled on that of cloistered nuns and monks. Yet, outside the religious life people as diverse as Walter Kerr and about the importance of some we are to maintain our sanity. I think it might be helpful the approach to God through Harvey Cox are writing kind of quiet periods if at this time to see that recollection and periods of quiet is neither an approach suited only for monastic congregations nor simply a far out, naturalistic fad in-dulged in by flower children. I think it might be profit-able to examine the approach some of the busy fathers of the Church used in treating of prayer to show that traditionally the effort to find God through recollection was not a practice limited to people in monasteries and cloistered convents. It is interesting to see what a lofty concept of prayer some of the busiest fathers of the Church recommended to their equally busy congregations. While the fathers did speak of prayer as asking God for things, just as preachers a few years ago did, they did not hesitate to talk or write about prayer as a simple raising of the heart to God, as recollection. This might be expected among the monastic Fathers such as St. Basil. But I think it is significant that the more active fathers--bishops, teach-ers-- should tell their congregations--the same people they warned about fornication and drunkenness--about the higher kinds of prayer. It will be helpful, before looking at the works of the fathers, to establish a fairly clear idea of the notion of praye~ that we will be looking for. What we hope to find are suggestions on the part of the fathers that their ÷ ÷ ÷ Hilary Smith, O.CJ3., lives at 7907 Bellaire Boul-evard in Houston, Texas 77096. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hilary Smith, O.C~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS congregations of working men and housewives practice what we would call today, or at least would have called a few years ago, "mental prayer." In St. Teresa of Avila's classic definition, mental prayer "is nothing but friendly intercourse, and frequent solitary converse with Him who we know loves us." 1 This definition of prayer is broad enough to include methodical meditation and even vocal prayers said well, but I believe that it shows that the essence of mental prayer is not a systematic arrangement of considerations with a concluding resolution. Rather mental prayer consists essentially in "tratando," dealing with God, in a friendly way. St. Teresa presents a more specific method of mental prayer, sometimes called the prayer of active recollection. "It is called recollection because the soul collects together all the faculties and enters within itself to be with its God," St. Teresa says in the now quaint sounding language of faculty psychol-ogy. It is with this specific form of prayer, active recollec-tion, that we shall be especially interested. It is impor-tant for us today to understand that this approach to prayer was not peculiar to St. Teresa or to the medieval monastic tradition. It represents a traditional Christian approach to prayer recommended to busy Christians long before men and women with education and leisure were almost all found in monasteries and convents. I hope that the following few remarks of the fathers on prayer will show that the early fathers, not haunted'as spiritual writers a few years ago were, by the spectre of Quietism, did not hesitate to recommend to their congregations a form of prayer that we might think to be too lofty or too mystical. One. very good example of a father of the Church addressing himself to ordinary lay people yet recommend-ing a lofty prayer of recollection is St. Gregory of Nyssa. He was almost certainly married, since in his treatise on virginity he says that he regrets that he himself is pre-vented from attaining to the glory of this virtue. Al-though it is true that he lived in a monastic community for a while, he is most famous as the active bishop of Nyssa, a post he held for eight years., In his works es-pecially in his commentaries on the Lord's Prayer and the Beatitudes, he has in view the needs of the average Christian. Although he is inclined to the asceticism of the desert, he is not a desert father living in isolation from the world around him--a world that seems in many ways similar to our own--but rather a man living in the .1 St. Teresa, Way of Perlection, in The Complete Works o/ St. Teresa, trans. E. Allison Peers (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1950), v. 2, p. 115. world, steeped in its culture and interested in all it has to offer.~ In his treatise on the Lord's Prayer, St. Gregory de-scribes his idea of prayer: "First my mind must become detached from anything subject to flux and change, and tranquilly rest in motionless spiritual repose, so as to be rendered akin to Him who is perfectly unchangeable; and then it may address Him by this most familiar name and say: Father." a St. Teresa's description of the prayer of recollection in her commentary on the Lord's Prayer is closely parallel. She says: "The soul withdraws the senses from all outward things and spurns them so com-pletely that, without its understanding how, its eyes close and it cannot see them and the soul's spiritual sight becomes clear." 4 We must be careful to understand that neither St. Teresa nor St. Gregory is describing some form of mys-tical prayer. St. Teresa is careful to explain that what she is describing "is not a supernatural state but depends upon our volition; by 'God's favor we can enter it of our own accord." 5 Thus St. Teresa distinguishes this recol-lection from what the students of mystical phenomena called "infused contemplation." St. Gregory is not so explicit, but he gives us to understand that the mind lifts itself from created things and places itself at rest in God. There seems to be no question here of God effect-ing something extraordinary in communicating with the Christian. Less to the point is St. Gregory's definition of prayer in general. He says: "Prayer is intimacy with God and contemplation of the invisible." n Though not so graphic as the earlier description, this definition shows St. Greg-ory's lofty concept of prayer; and, found in a treatise written for laymen, it shows that he was not afraid of presenting his lofty ideas to ordinary people. Another early Christian writer who recommends a contemplative type of prayer to ordinary men and women is Origen. His treatise, De Oratione, one of the first Christian treatises of prayer, was written as a reply to questions raised by his friend and patron, the married deacon Ambrose. Although Origen does not describe a kind of active recollection as clearly as St. Gregory, he does indicate that married folk, such as Ambrose, need not confine their praying to the recitation of vocal pray-ers or to asking God for favors. His description of the preparation for prayer brings to mind St. Teresa's defini- = St. Gregory of Nyssa, The Lord's Prayer. The Beatitudes, trans. Hilda C. Graef (Westminster: Newman, 1954), pp. $, 8, 15, 19. 8 Ibid., p. ~8. *Peers, v. 2, 115. 5 Peers, v. 2, 110. 6 St. Gregory of Nyssa, p. 24. + ÷ ÷ Quie~ Prayer VOLUME 28 ~.969 5 4- Hilary Smith, O.C.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 tion of prayer as a friendly converse with God. He says that by the very way one disposes his mind to prayer, by the very attitude with which one prays, "he shows that he is placing himself before God and speaking to Him as present, convinced that He is present and looking at Him." 7 Further on he says: "When praying let us not babble, but let us speak to God"; and, "When we pray in this way [in secret] we shall be conversing with God." In another context, in his Contra Celsum, Origen speaks of approaching God in a similar, contemplative-like way. Celsus has complained that the Christians do not worry about the cult due to the national idols, nor do they erect temples for their own worship. Origen answers in a beautiful passage where he says that Christians carry the image of their God within themselves. Every Chris-tian, he says, "strives to build an altar and carve a statue himself, keeping his eyes fixed on God, keeping his heart pure, and trying to become like God." s Again in De oratione, Origen recommends that Am-brose find a quiet place in his home to pray: "If you want to pray in greater quiet and without so much. dis-traction, you may choose a special place in your own house, if you can, a consecrated place, so to speak, and pray there." 0 Origen might well have been speaking to today's busy sisters. Another Church writer known for his work on prayer is Tertullian. Scholars say that Origen very likely drew many of his ideas on prayer from a Greek translation of Tertullian's De oratione. Some idea o[ his realistic recom-mendations to busy people on prayer may be drawn from this remark in his treatise on marriage and remarriage. He has been speaking of the value of continence as an aid in attaining union with God. Then almost equating prayer and union, he says that "men must need pray every day and every moment of the day." This may seem like only a paraphrase of the command "Pray always," but in the context it can be considered as an elaboration of Christ's command. Tertullian does not take Christ's words to mean that we should be constantly petitioning God for help, but rather that Christians should be con-stantly united to God in prayer through much the same kind of converse or treating with God that St. Teresa recommends. One last remark, this h'om St. John Damascene, may serve as a summing up ot what we have seen in St. Greg-ory o~ Nyssa, Origen, and Tertullian about the possi-r Origen, Prayer. Exhortation to Martyrdom, trans. John J. O'Meara (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 37. Cels., 8, 17, 18; quoted in Jean Danielou, Origen (New York, 1955), p. 35. Origen, Prayer, p. 43. bility for a contemplative approach to prayer for busy people. It is true that at the time he produced his little work, Barlaam and Joasaph, he was more of a monk than an active preacher, but he says that he is summarizing the ideas of the fathers before him. He says that the fathers define prayer as "the union of man with God," "angel's work," and "the prelude of gladness to come." He asks: "How shalt thou converse with God?" and an-swers: "By drawing near him in prayer." And he ex-plains: "He that prays with exceedingly fervent desire and a pure heart, his mind estranged from all that is earthly and grovelling, and stands before God eye to eye, and presents his prayers to him in fear and trem-bling, such a one has converse and speaks to him face to face." lo Better known, and at the same time a perfect example of a man who was busy, prayerful, and ready to recom-mend prayer to his congregation was St. Augustine. The ditficulty in discussing St. Augustine's approach to prayer briefly is that he has said so much about prayer. I have selected a few passages in which he seems to be speaking especially to busy people and in which he seems to be dealing with what we would call mental prayer, and more specifically with the approach to mental prayer that we described above as active recollection. Shortly after his conversion, before his baptism, Augus-tine retired for awhile to the country where he might have the leisure for prayer. We know from his Con-fessionsix that at this time he began to pour out his soul to God using the words of the Psalmist. But his corre-spondence with his friend Nebridius reveals that at the same time he was trying to withdraw from the noise of the world to find God in the depths of his soul; that he was, in our terminology, practicing mental prayer. His withdrawal was not a flight into the desert or monastery. He still considered himself and Nebridius as "busy people." The recollection he recommends to Nebridius is a practice made easier by the.solitude and leisure he is enjoying for a time in the country, but it is a practice which he says will be helpfullin the midst of activity. First he tells Nebridius of the advantages of adoring God in the "innermost recesses of the soul." He promises him that this recollection brings with it a "freedom from fear," and "an inner peace which permeates our human activity when we return to activity from our inner shrine." Finally, he tells him: "You, Nebridius, are free 10St. John Damascene, Barlaam and Joasaph, trans. Gr. Wood-ward and H. Mattingly (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1937), p. 295. ~ St. Augustine, Contessions, trans. F. J. Sheed (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1943), p. 185. + + Quiet Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 Hila~J Smith, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of fear only when you are inwardly recollected." lz From the Very beginning of h.is life as a Christian; St. Augustine shows, an attraction to solitary converse with God. His own prayer and the advice he gives his busy friend Nebri- ~lius furnish an interesting contrast to the prayer for-merly described in convent spiritual 'reading books. There is no question in St. Augustine's mind about re-pe~ iting many vocal prayers or following-some well-or-ganized meditatiOn plan. A few ~ears later, now a priest, St. Augustine con-tinued his exhortations, .encouraging a ~ontemplative approach to prayer, in The Lord's Sermon 'on" the Mount. He comments on Christ's words: "But when you pray, enter into your chambers." The chambers, h~ says, are our hearts.' We must close the door on things without, "all transitory and visible things which through our fleshly senses noise in upon us while we pray." Then there takes place a turning of the heart tO God; and this very effort we make in praying calms the heart, makes it clean and more capable of receiving the divine gifts. He says: "It is not words we should use in dealing with God. but it is the things we carry in our mind and the direction of our thoughts with pure .love and single affection." These ideas, coming as they do early in St. Augustine's life as a Christian, and very much like, in spirit, the teachings of the neo-Platonists on contemplation, may seem more like Platonism than Christianity. In fact, it might be argued that most of the people cited thus far, including St. Teresa, were influenced by.Platonism. It is not within the scope of this paper to discuss the influence of Platonism on Christian mysticism, nor is the question of great practical import. If authorities on prayer have found that they could effectively approach God in a way that resembles the approach of some philosophers to peace or wisdom, then the marvelous thing is not that some Christians are using a pagan philosophy in their prayer, but rather that there is such a universal inclina-tion in human nature to withdraw from the hustIe and bustle of the world from time to time and turn to loftier things. This inclination was recognized by the pagan philosophers and far eastern mystics, but it can find its best realization in a Christian context in which a personal God comes to live intimately with those who are really dedicated to Him. Later in his life, St. Augustine kept hi~ lofty concept of prayer, although, as a result of his struggle with the Pelagians, he seems to make more mention of prayer as petition. He has to explain that no one can receive ~St. Augustine's Letters, trans. Sr. WilIrid Parsons, S.N.D. (New York: 1951), v. 1, p. 157. grace simply by asking for it, but rather we ask because we have been moved by grace. Nevertheless, his classic definition of prayer in the ninth sermon on the Passion shows that he is not limiting the prayer of his congrega-tion to vocal prayer or meditation. He defines prayer as "the affectionate movement of the mind towards God." In the Enarratio in Psalmum 85, we find the idea ex-pressed above by St. Teresa that prayer is converse with God. St. Augustine says: "Your prayer is conversation with God. ~Nhen you read, God speaks to you; when you pray, you speak to God.'.' As St. Augusdnffbecame more and more imbued with the theology and language of the Bi, ble and more forgetful of Platonism, his thoughts on prayer at6 expressed more in Biblical metaphors than in philosophical abstractions. He had told Nebridius to turn away f(om created things and try to converse with God in the center of his soul. His descriptions of this contemplation of God are not too unlike the instructions of the neoPlatonists on the contemplation of true wisdom. In his later years, St. Augustine continues to instruct Christians on~ the importance of dealing With God through the heart, not just with the lips, of worshiping God in spirit, in truth, not simply in an external way. But now he presents his teaching more in the words of Christ, St. John the Evangelist, the Psalms, and less in the language of Plodnus. He frequently cites Christ's directive about praying in our own chambers, and he explains that the chambers are our hearts,is He quotes Jesus also on not using many words when we pray;14 He likes to point out that the Psalmist who so frequently calls or shouts to God is crying with his heart: " 'You have heard, Lord, the voice of my prayer. You heard when I shouted to you.' This shout to God is made not with the voice but with the heart. Many, with their lips ¯ sil.ent,~ shout with their hearts; others, making a great deal of noise with their mouths, have their hearts turned away and can ask for nothing. If then, you are going to shout, shout from within where God hears." ~ St. Augustine, then, all through his life recommended to his congregations a lofty form of prayer. He did not think it unrealistic to suggest that his people, who Were not cloistered nuns or monks, should strive after a prayerful, contemplative awareness of God's personal presence. Very likely he had achieved a contemplative union with God himself in the midst of his bu~y life and knew that it was possible for others. The modern, harried religious should not feel that his own contemplative aspirations are at all unrealistic. Rather he should see taEnar, in Ps, n. 5; Epis. 130. 14 Sermo 80. 15 Enar. II in Ps. 30, serm. 5. ÷ + ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9 ÷ Hilary Smith, O.C.D . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS them as an important aspect of the Christian tradition in which he lives. Another great, active Church father with lofty ideas about prayer is St. John Chrysostom. He also defines prayer as a "conversation ~vith God." a6 He explains the first verse of Psalm 140, "Lord I shouted to you and you heard me," as the cry of a deeply prayerful man. The Psalmist here, he says, speaks of "an internal shout, from a heart of fire. He who thus shouts with his heart, turns to God with his whole heart." Always interested in the affective nature of prayer, he makes an important dis-tinction in explaining verse one of Psalm 5: "You hear my shout." The shout, he says, is not "an intonation of the voice but an affection of the mind." 17 To indicate the lofty nature of the kind of prayer he has in mind he says that it is a duty which we have in common with the angels. To pray with the proper rev-erence we must remove ourselves from worldly things and place ourselves in the middle of the choirs of angels. Although St. John Chrysostom has special praise for the life of monks he is anxious that everyone should give themselves to prayer, "both civil servants and private citizens, both men and women, both the elderly and the young, both slaves and freemen." as And he gives special instructions for busy housewives who would like to spend some time in quiet prayer. He reminds them that unlike their husbands "in the middle of the forum or before the tribunal, stirred up by external things as by heavy waves," housewives should be able to sit down for awhile in the privacy of their homes and recollect themselves. In this way they are like those who go out to the desert, bothered by no one: "Thus the housewife, always remaining within, can enjoy a permanent tran-quillity." Obviously St. John Chrysostom had the same notion of a housewife's life as many men today--and his ideas were probably received with the same disdain. But we are not citing John Chrysostom so much for his socio-logical data as for the importance he attaches to a con-templative form of prayer even for housewives. He ex-plains that even if she is forced to go out to Church or to the baths, once she has acquired the habit of recollection she need not be perturbed. What is more, the prayerful, recollected wife will be able to quiet a restless husband and help him forget the worries and cares of the forum.19 If we remember that St. John Chrysostom recommends a certain amount of solitude and prayer for everyone, ~ In Cap. X1 Gen., Horn. 30 n. 5. a7 Exposit. in Psalm. 5, n. 3. rs Homil. encomiast, in S. Meletium, n. 3. a~ In Jo. homil. 61, nn. 3, 4. we can profit from his commentary on Christ's prayer away from the crowds. St. John is not suggesting that everyone flee into a desert, but rather that everyone imi-tate Christ by leaving the noise of society for a little while to be able to pray and thus to return strengthened and fortified. It is thus that St. John explains the words of St. Matthew: "After he had dismissed the crowds he went up into the hills by himself to pray." ~0 "Why did Christ go up into the mountain? That he might teach us how appropriate is the wilderness, is solitude, for calling upon God. He thus frequently sought the wilderness and spent the night there that he might instruct us that we ought to seek out tranquil times and places for prayer." ~x St. John insists that the solitude necessary for prayer is not the physical solitude of the desert. Christians can pray everywhere because "God is always near." We can pray "in the bath [St. John seems especially interested in the possibility of prayer here] on the road, in bed, before the judge." ~ He says that it is not necessary to be rich or a philosopher to pray, but that even manual laborers can pray "as in a monastery: for it is not the comfortable-ness of a place, but an upright life that brings us quiet." ~3 St. John's insistence that everyone can pray everywhere at any time is b:.sed on two principles: First that God is always near to us, actually living in us as in a temple: "The grace of the Holy Spirit makes us temples of God so that it might be easier for us to pray." ~4 Secondly, we can pray always because in prayer, "the mouth makes no sound, while the mind shouts." Religious should understand, then, that aspiring to a more simple, contemplative approach to prayer, even in the midst of a highly active life, is not at all unrealistic. In fact it is more in keeping with the Christian tradition and the aspirations of human nature than the formalized meditations stressed so much in religious houses in the last two or three centuries. It is an approach to God long fostered by some of the most active fathers of the Church and recommended by them to their equally active con-gregations. .-o Mt 14:23. -~ In Mt. homil. 50. m Homil. de Canan., n. 11. ~ Ad llluminand. Cateches., I, n. 4. =4De Anna, serm. IV, n. 6. + 4- Quiet Prayer VOLUME 28, ]! VINCENT P. BRANICK, S.M. Formation and Task ÷ ÷ + Vincent P. Bran-ick0 S.I~I., is a mem-ber of the Maria-nist Seminary; Regina Mundi; gri-bourg, Switzerland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A dilemma confronts those charged with the forma-tion of religious today. A program of formation which encourages the spontaneity of the religious, one which minimizes regulations and concentrates on personal re-sponsibility seems to be the only valid method of forma-tion today. This is true not only for houses of formation but also for active community life where growth in per-sonal identity and in a way of life must continue. But in such a program of formation severe difficulties of vocation often arise. Self-doubt replaces original enthusiam. Scep-ticism challenges the very viability of religious life. And many leave. I believe these vocation difficulties are neces-sarily connected with this type of formation. In such programs administrators engage and direct the critical spirit of members to the interior structures of the life. Focusing on the life of the individual and the com-munity, this criticism strives to minimize the regulated activities and increase the optional elements of daily life. By allowing a religious to choose for himself the details of his life, the administrators hope both to develop per-sonal autonomy and help the younger member to identify himself fully with the life of the community. Seldom, however, do these great hopes materialize in a more vigorous religious life. In fact where superiors implement these reforms most whole heartedly, the greatest difficulties seem to arise. The critical spirit focuses on the interior structures of the life, and the agonizing questions begin. To what minimum should we limit our regulations? What is the basic concept of re-ligious life from which we can derive these minimum regulations? Can the present superiors be trusted to define religious life as it should be? Can a member rely on anyone but himself to conceive the definition and regulations of the religious life he is to lead? This distrust, self-doubt, and aggression generated by this type of criticism is isolating religious in an extreme individualism and is draining away real enthusiasm. The difficulty, however, is not with the criticism in itself, I believe, as with the notion of regulation implied both in this type of critical questioning and in the defensive at-tempts to answer. The basic difficulty consists in a loss of the practical sense of rule, in attempts to deduce rules from a defined concept of religious life rather than from a practical selection of religious tasks. Without an appreciation of objective task as the coun-terpart of rule, the efforts to criticize and modernize our programs of formation are developing an ex.ag.ger.a.ted self-consciousness. Our great emphasis on minimizing rules and developing autonomy is throwing out of bal-ance the dynamic but delicate dialectic of human life ¯ between self-consciousness and self-forgetfulness in task, between subjectivity and objectivity. "Responsibility," "fulfillment," and "freedom," the key words of today's personalism, pertain to subjective states of an individual, just as "minimum regulation" and "optional time" pertain to the subjective or interior conditions of a community. These terms indicate a re-flection of the subject on himself. As developing from this reflection, they are abstract and formal, belonging to a secondary thematic. As categories of human life they are certainly valid; but when taken out of their relation to a concrete activity in a concrete situation, they are deceiving. When considered outside of this relation, these terms appear very precise in. idealistic simplicity. They are ideals and in their simplicity, they evoke a radical response, a response that is immediate and totally absorbing. Men die for freedom. Priests leave their Church for fulfillment. But when these categories are not separated from their context in life, their simplicity is lessened by the com-plexity of daily business. Their radicalness is tempered by respect for the values of concrete situations. The re-sponse to these ideals can still be radical and totally ab-sorbing, but in a way that is more realistic, persevering, and in the end more effective. The objective and concrete counterpart of these sub-jective and reflex categories is task. Task is the creation of values that can be shared, values not simply of an individual subject but of a public world, where many can partake. Yet, task is more than a man's material work. It includes also his duty to worship God, his duty to be thoughtful and thankful of truth and beauty, because such duties are eminently public, even when accom-plished in silence. Task is the outward going service of that which is not self. By emphasizing task as the necessary correlative of subjectivity, we respect the nature of the human subject. Man is no't an enclosed container but an outward thrust to another. Human subjectivity is basically intention-ality. The self becomes self in becoming other. Here we 4. ÷ Formation and Ta~k VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 have the fundam.ental human paradox--a man finds himself through his interest in another, a man achieves personal autonomy by binding himself in love of the other, a man can reflecton ideals only when engaged in tasks. Only the altruistic love of a task can preserve and intensify personal autonomy in the unavoidable restric-tions imposed by daily choices. Choosing some goal or some means to a goal always restricts and limits, whether a person simply accepts, another's choice or whether he chooses for himself. A decision always ex-cludes a multitude of alternatives. But a person who loves his task in no way loses autonomy by this restriction. In his love he concentrates himself in the positive core of his decision, locating his life in the values he wants to accomplish. Without that love he remains scattered over all the alternatives so that the restriction of the al-ternatives becomes a restriction of self. For example, one who loves the task of community prayer can accept the restrictions of a community schedule. One who loves his task of witnessing to eschatological values can accept disengagements from some elements of the commerce of civilization. In these loves a person seeks the fulfillment of what is not himself, and by so doing he develops in and through the unavoidable limitations. Fulfillment by love of task is such a common occur-rence that we tend to overlook it. We find it in the suc-cessful professional man, in the loving parents of a fam-ily, in the dedicated missionary. Conversely, we are struck by the lack of autonomy in the person concen-trating on his own stature in a type of adolescent self-consciousness. The person concentrating directly on achieving his autoflomy is the person least capable of finding it. By centering his attention on himself he can-not maintain the intensity of his normal thrust to the outside without which he cannot live as a mature free man. The man without a task is a tragic figure. The soul searching into which he is forced only aggravates the loss of identity he suffers. He is caught in a closed circle until another comes to him and appeals for his cooperation. In our present appreciation of personalism, the notion of task has faded from importance. Task appears as an impersonal category, something to do rather than some-one to relate to. But in no way are task and person op-posed. Rather the two notions are inseparable in the understanding of human relations. A task has signifi-cance only in view of the person who will benefit from it. And relating to a person implies concrete action that is more than purely symbolic gesture. To limit our cor-poral activities in interpersonal dynamics to mere signs of interior attitudes is to attempt an angelic community and to end up in a gross sentimentalism. Our interper-sonal relations are not simply encounters between spirits. Human community demands the creation of values through corporal work as a medium of com-munication. Task as an impersonal category is an in-dispensable presupposition for a truly human person-alism. A human community receives its unity and its identity from its common tasks. No community can exist on its own substance. A community which concentrates only on interior community life will never attain the well being of its members. The cohesion and dynamism of a com-munity results from a common advancement toward a goal which transcends the community. The convergence of the members with each other results from the con-vergence of all the members on a common goal. In selfless striving for this goal, the members find them-selves united. Their mutual confidence rests on the con-fidence each has that the other' is striving for the com-munity goal, or at least is not surreptitiously seeking his personal advantage to the detriment of that goal. Dis-unities are constructive only if they occur in the context of a greater dynamic unity. If the members agree on their general task, their different ways of conceiving the specific work enter into a productive dialectic. Even adamant differences about the means to accomplish a task are not divisive in the context of agreement about the end. But where members disagree on the basic task of the community, where they dispute the primary pur-pose of themselves as a group, there can be no dynamic coherence. No amount of dedication of the members to each other as individuals can supply for this lack of dedication to a common task. No matter how much the members love each other as persons, they cannot function together. In such a group, accord can exist only by agree-ment not to work together. That is, accord can exist be-tween individuals, but not between members of a func-tioning community. After saying all this about the dependence of the in-dividual and. communitarian subject on its tasks, we cannot stop here without risking a onesided distortion. All I have said is open to the totalitarian interpretation that individuals and communities should uncritically accept and dedicate themselves to tasks handed to them from the past. This is not true. A continuation of the analysis of the relation between self and task indicates why this is not true. Our objective tasks are not fully intelligible in and by themselves. These tasks depend on the subject just as the subject depends on the tasks. Every task presupposes a certain readiness in the subject. Ira man is not ready to meet objective realities by a Formation and Task VOLUME 2B, 1969 15 V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS certain sensitivity or openness to them, he will never recognize them when he comes across them. And with-out this recognition the objective task can never exist. An educational task exists only for an educated person. A religious task exists only for a religious person. Only by knowing his own religious demensions can a person articulate and thereby give reality to an objective reli-gious task. Besides depending on a subject's recognition, a task also depends for its existence on a subject's freedom in accepting or rejecting it. A task exists only as someone's task, and only in a person's free decision can a task be-come his. The automaton cannot create a task for itself because it cannot freely identify its good with the accom-plishment of the task. A free decision is thus necessary for the existence of a task, and such a free decision pre-supposes a subject who has already achieved.a degree of selfhood or autonomy. This dependence of the object on the subject holds also for communitarian dynamics. The recognition and free acceptance or rejection by a community of its task presupposes a level of coherence and self-understanding already .existing in that community. A task could never draw a group if the group could not direct itself through a group decision. We seem to have an unbreakable circle here. The autonomy of the subject presupposes a thrust toward its objective task, but this thrust presupposes the au-tonomy of the subject. In reality this mutual dependence exists more as a dialectic or oscillation between self and task, by which the subject grows in maturity and his work grows in precision and importance with each turning of the self to his task and from task to self. At the beginning of this dialectic lies, on the one hand, the basic openness of the human spirit, and, on the other, the original call of reality which can only be the direct appeal of God Himself. Task, as this dialectic reveals, has a role in human life which is at once relative and absolute. Any given task will be relative because it depends on the subject who can therefore criticize and change it. This dependence of the task on the recognition and decision of the subject refutes a totalitarian submission of the person to his work. The autonomy which the task confers on the subject is the autonomy l~y which he can dominate the task. But because this autonomy is indissolubly linked with task as such, task is absolutely indispensable to human existence. We cannot change or criticize our need to work as such. And this absolute need to give ourselves to task is present in a concrete way in any given task no matter how temporary or contingent it is. In all its provisional and contingent character, the task at hand remains the source of dynamism for the human dialectic of growth. In fact, the mature development of task requires a very delicate balance between self-reflection and outward-going service, between critical detachment and dedicated engagement, between autonomy and abnegation. Today in many areas of religious life, I believe, we have upset this delicate balance. The sudden wave of self-criticism which religious life has undergone has over-weighted the subjective pole of the dialectical balance. Individuals and communities have almost locked their sights on themselves in a direct concentration on their subjective fulfillment. The surging experience of the need to criticize and modernize the communitarian tasks is failing to issue into a more intense outward dedica-tion. This need to criticize and modify tasks has resulted primarily from the advances of Christian theology in the last twenty years, advances which in a way climaxed and received great publication in the Second Vatican Council. Modern theological insights showed the great horizontal expansiveness of Christian life, the great variety of ways in which Christianity can be :lived. The former theologies. tended to picture Christian life in a rather narrow ver-tical plane which allowed variety only in terms of hier-archic positions. The various tasks of Christian life dif-fered from each other because some were more perfect than others. This gave an absolute character to de-cisions in the selection of concrete tasks. In this narrow but precise view of Christian life, the various tasks of religious orders--their ways of prayer, their apostolic works, their degree of cloister--all seemed direct deduc-tions from the gospel following necessarily from a totally unlimited acceptance of Christianity. By showing the horizontal expansiveness of Christian life, modern theology has changed this view. We can now see many ways of acting and working as Christians, each way with a dignity proper to itself, a dignity that is not simply a limited edition of that belonging to a more perfect task. Modern theology has not depreciated the basic tasks traditional to religious life; but it has rela-tivized them by presenting them in the context of other tasks, thus showing that the acceptance of a task results more from contingent decisions than from absolute de-ductions. There are pressing needs for so many tasks that no necessity binds a community or an individual to one or the other. Seeing for the first time the contingent and provisional character of their tasks, many communities and individ-uals are experiencing a real crisis of identity. The tra-ditional tasks on which they built their identity seem 4- ÷ 4. Formation and Task VOLUME 28, 1969 ]7 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]8 to have been depreciated because they have been rela-tivized. For people who tend to think always in ab-solute categories, this relativization of traditional com-munitarian tasks is anguishing. Many religiou.s have become worried about their fulfillment and autonomy through such tasks. This worry often leads to a search to reabsolutize the community tasks, finding a modern task that is the task of the Church today. Although opening new possibilities and purging re-ligious life of obsolete structures, this intense concern about personal antonomy and this criticism of all tasks at hand is impeding the turning outward toward work in self-dedication. By fixing attention on tile subject, this critical self-consciousness is obstructing the oscillation between selfhood and task and in this way is diminishing the general vitality of religious life. Houses of formation are especially susceptible to this loss of vitality becanse it is there that the dialectic be-tween religious identity and religious task must begin. Equipped with neither the subjective identity of a re-ligious congregation nor an understanding involvement in its present tasks, candidates arrive usually with simply a willingness to enter. At this moment of entrance only a vivid presentation of tasks can engender enthusiasm, a presentation of tasks which the person sees worthy of his dedication. Concentrating on such tasks a young religious will gradually develop a self-possession in the style of the congregation that will make him fully responsible for its works, that will allow him to live without thought of external pressure, that will enable him to criticize and modify his tasks. But if on entering religious life or during the years of formation, he sees in the administrators a paralyzing hesitation regarding tile most basic tasks, if his program of formation turns his attention constantly back to him-self in questions of autonomy, fulfillment, and minimali-zation of rules, the dialectic of growth can hardly begin to operate. There is certainly no facile answer to the problem of developing religious enthusiam in a time when all tasks of religious life are being revaluated. We cannot simply ignore the severe doubts that do in fact exist in the minds of administrators. But the present hesitation to present concrete tasks to religious is serionsly hampering the possibility for formation. A rehabilitation of religious task must take place on two levels. The first level is that of the Church as a whole. On this level we can recognize a permanence and uni-versality of tasks. In the life of the Church there is a permanent need for some people to pray in a way that disengages them from personal participation in the eco- nomics and politics of our world, just as there is a per-manent need for others to ~ray in a way that involves them person.ally in economic and political progress. These needs derive from the very nature of Christianity. On this universal level we can articulate a theology that shows the beauty and depth both of the traditional and. o~ the new tasks of the Church. Such 'a theology of the functions of the Church can present these tasks in such clarity that they engender enthusiasm and initiate self-dedication. The second level is that of the particular congrega-tion. On this level we must learn to understand the co,,n~tin, gent and limited nature 'of the congregation'~ en-traiace into the universal work'of the Church. From the expansive range of ecclesial tasks, each with its own theology and permanence, a" congregation must decide on specific tasks to assume. This decision is necessarily contingent on historidal and p~rs~nal ,circumstances, but this contingency need not prevent an intense adherence~ to the tasks. The decision by a congregation will be based on its continge~tt capabilities, as a result of a his-tory of insights and ~pecializatiops, but in that decision a congregation enters into theuniversal dimensions evangelization. A chosen task may not be the most cen-tial, the most perfect possible task of the Church today, but by accepting it with its limi(ations, a religious con-gregation can take its part in the whole work of the Church in all its depth and beauty. The only alternative' to this is a perfectionist idealism that paralyzes all forts. Although in the actual appropriation of a task the two levels blend together, each operates according'to its own rules. The first level is theological and universal; the second, historical and contingent. Formation to task takes place on both levels. It educates to a vivid aware-ness of the universal tasks of the Church and to an ac-ceptance of the contingent communitarian decisions by which a society shares in these tasks. By focusing attention on the fulfillment and spon-taneity of the individual, many programs of formation today run contrary to the needs of both levels. The tasks of the Church are being obscured. Relieving the anguish-ing needs of the people of the world, bringing all men to an intimate knowledge and love of Christ, worshiping God as a community~these tasks of the Church are being displaced by concern for personal development. At the same time, the emphasis on minimizing rules and foster-ing spontaneity is blurring the need to accept the con-tingent communitarian decision of a task and the struc-ture of authority that makes the communitarian decision possible. Certainly we should be pruning away obsolete Formation and Task 19 rules, rules which are no longer associated with a task. But the effort simply to minimize rules for its own sake is equivalent to the effort to minimize community tasks. For a religious dedicated to the community work, the minimization of rules is not a burning issue. The dis-tinction between what is regulated and what is optional is of secondary importance. Rules appear as means of coordinating community effort, as expressions of what the community expectsof an individual, how he can contribute to the community functions. Since contribu-tions to the community functions may vary in a contin-uous range, from indispensable activities to actions which have little relation to the community work, the categories of "regulated" and "optional" are simply in-adequate to divide the day. Endless discussions about the precise limits of regulations indicate that the ques-tion of task has not yet been resolved. Formation must begin and end with mission, a selec-tion and a confiding of tasks, an education of people to the realities of these tasks that evokes their love for the good to be accomplished through these tasks. Trying to educate people to self-direction without at the same time giving them tasks will always tend to a loss of self-giving. Educating people to love and know tasks, allowing the tasks to draw people will inevitably result in a develop-ment of responsibility and self-confidence. The dynamism of task is the only atmosphere conducive to human autonomy. ÷ ÷ V. P. Branick, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Religious Life in a Secularized.Age Vatican Council II, in its decree on The Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life, analyzed our renewal as a twofold process and laid down two generic principles for the pursuit of that renewal.1 The first principle takes us historically backward, the second forward. The first principle is a continuous return to the gospel of Christ as a basic norm of the religious life, and the second is an adjustment or adaptation to the physical, psychological, cultural, social, and economic conditions of our day. But at this point already one should ask the question: Is not religious life caught in a false dilemma when it at-tempts to return and renew itself at one and the same time? 2 How can it move backward and forward simul-taneously? Is it possible for religious to draw their in-spiration from the gospel as well as adjust themselves within the context of a secularized age? The decree underscores the return to the gospel ideal first of all; this is why a concerted and communal effort is to be made to catch anew the gospel inspiration as a rule of life and conduct. Yet the gospel presents reli-gious with no stereotype of their life that is always and everywhere valid and that they can turn to when-ever they find themselves in religious straits. In order to re-evangelize we have to ask questions of the Bible out of our own concrete, contemporary life, because the religious life experience of 1969 presents us with prob-lems. The problems are compounded because we have till now developed only the embryo of a new style of life which shows very indistinct features of further growth. XN. 2. "E. Schillebeeckx, "Het nieuwe mens- en Godsbeeld in conflict met her religieuze leven," Ti]dschri]t voor theologie, v. 7 (1967), pp. 1-27. I have followed to a large extent the development of ideas in this article. See also Soeur Guillemin, "Renovation de l'espHt et des structures," Vie consacrde, v. 38 (1966), pp. 360-73; she covers much of the same ground from a more practical point of view. Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C., is a faculty member of Crosier House of Studies at 2620 East Wallen Roadi Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOI'UME 28, 1969 - ~oseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW F.OR.RELIGIOUS We are asking questions, therefore, which the past Christian generations could not have asked since they did not live in a secularized age. The gospel cannot reply to questions not put to it; nor does it await questions from us which were already put to it by generations past.,'It is inconceivable that we should inquire .intb the Sc'riptures from the same van-tage point, say, as Sts. Jerome and Augustine had to do for .their respective communities whose members did not take vows but simply pledged themselves to persevere in their religious purpose. The medieval monks interpreted the Bible in a much different way than we can, and they tended to encapsulate the religious life into a profession of the three vows, a notion retained by canon law in its definition of the religious state.3 The former tendency was to regard the religious experience as a form more or less of flight 'from the world, of self-denial; renunciation, the exclusive service of God. We must strenuously reject the identification of the evangelical community life with the fo~ms it has taken in a given period and locale. Perhaps~- though you will have to judge this for yourselves--the change with the times and places is harder for the woman religious because of her naturally (and in other respects advantageously) conservative spirit. The past.historical ~onception of religious life hardly coincides with the demands made upon'human life by a secularized society.4 If we are to research the gospel for goals and guides to present,day religious .life, then we will have to approach it with an open mind, not with the m~ntality of our forebears, founders or foundresses, most of whom lived in a pretechni.cal, preindustrial, pre-democratic age. We may e~,en, have to rephrase our. ques-tions once. we listen to the cadences of God's word. The gospel may. echo. to us the question whether we have been tuned in to the secularization process critically, whether our life context offers any guarantee of human values. The times we live in, with their alternate possibilities of. good~, and evil, do not simply call for an unqualified adaptation. .-Hence what the decree aims atis that religious.evaluate their world in the light of the gospel. Some kind of eval-uation has already.been done for the Church at large in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World; here the world is seen from a threefold view-point-- as created, as fallen and sinful, and as loved and redeemed.5 Religious life itself has to be reinterpreted 8 C. 487. ' ]. Bonnefoy, A.A., "Presence au monde ~an.s une vie religieuse," Vie consacr~e, v. 39 (1967), pp. 353-67. ; . ~ 8 E. Pin, $.J., "Les insfituts religieux apostoliques et le ~hang~- ment ~ocio-cultuel," Nouvelle revue thgologique, v. 87 .(1965), pp. 395-411. by means of a confrontation between the two, gospel and world. Without such a confrontation, the attempt either to re-evangelize or to adapt is empty and meaning-less; it is sold short by too much evangelization on the one hand and too much humanization on the other. The only way to arrive at a confrontation of the two is to examine human experience today in the light of the gospel and to understand the gospel from the viewpoint of contemporary human experience. Man today looks upon the natural world as the raw material out of which he can create his own world. The supremacy he feels over the things of the world is chang-ing his view of himself too as part of this world. Through his own scientific work he finds himself able to live a more human life; by humanizing the world round about himself he is discovering more human values. One of the values that he has freshly uncovered and that have prompted him to make the world more hu-manly livable is his freedom. Freely and creatively he would carve out of the world a home where the human community can exist in justice and love. He is filled with an indomitable desire to build a better world where men can live together in the solidarity of justice and love. But the humanization of the world by means of science and technology has also created, by way of a byproduct, the danger for man to render this world uninhabitable. The Great Society has been so organized by man that it has well nigh done away with other human opportunities such as the contemplative side of life offers him. He is forced almost to flee from the world in order to have the time and place for that contemplation which does not only regard the things of God but respects the dignity otr his fellowmen. Man risks the danger of treating his fellowmen as things and of overpowering them, of using and abusing them as he would the things of nature. If he loses his respect for his fellowman, he is liable to manip-ulate him, exploit him, and usurp his rights to human achievement.6 Of all the human qualities young people wish for themselves and expect of others the most out-standing are personal right, authenticity, trust, under-standing, loyalty, and honesty. They reject any and every sort of depersonalization. Man can so dominate the world socially, economically, and politically, that he runs roughshod over his fellowman. So the same scientific and technological progress can be both a boon and a threat to a more human existence, depending upon the use to which man puts it for his fellowman. The whoIe secuIarization process that has fallen into human hands has affected man's stance toward religion, 6S6eur Marie-Edmond, "Qu'attendent les jeunes filles de la vie rcligicuse communautairc?" Vie consacrde, v. 39 (1967), pp. 40-50. + Religious LiIe, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 23 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtn~r, 0~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS though primarily it is a social event that of itself need not lead to any irreligiosity. It does, however, set man upon the pinnacle of the temple of this world; it puts him into a relationship with the world which he never yet experienced. This change of relationship and his own understanding of it is bound to alter his view of God. While formerly the Church was the means of bringing his attention to God as He operated in nature, history, and society, now that man has asserted his creative power over the world, he has at the same time contrib-uted to its desacralization. God would seem to be left out; man comes to the fore. As a result the conclusion we can easily reach is that secularization and desacralization are pagan, heathen, or anti-religious. But the fact of the matter is that this proc-ess has both Christian and non-Christian elements and hence cannot be accept.ed unqualifiedly or uncritically. If anything shakes the younger generation, it is their fear for the destiny of a world so insecure in its secular struc-tures. To give the secularized world its due, we must ac-knowledge it with faith as God's creation to which he gave an autonomy and secularity. Our belief in His act of creation implies that the world be left wholly other than God---creaturely, human, worldly. 0nly if we recog-nize the world for what it is can we catch some insight into who God is, as Someone unworldly, transcendent, uncreated. The more we tend to sacralize the world, the less transcendence do we attribute to God and the less likely are we to worship Him alone. Acceptance of the world and everything worldly from a divine point of view means setting the world free for man; to secularize it is to allow it freedom, a created autonomy. In a sense, then, the secularization process follows from Christianity itself as a consequence of its refusal to commingle, confuse, or fuse God with the world. Chris-tianity has no intention of divinizing or Christianizing or baptizing the world from within, but rather of keeping the world humanized through the retention of its essen-tially human values. Christian secularity is precisely this, that Christians in a spirit of faith discern the dif-ference between the concrete Christian and the pagan elements which make up the world and allow it to be itself. Grace makes it possible for Christians to prepare for Christianization, that is, to secularize and humanize the world by means of a faith outlook. The Gospel does not sterilize the heart of man, emptying it of an appre-ciation of all earthly and human values; rather it opens to him the same full human perspective which Christ had in assuming and recapitulating humanity. Sin alone dims or eclipses the possibility of that perspective. This is the kind of world, its history and culture, in which we must situate the religious life, and this is the same world in which we can ask the appropriate ques-tions of the gospel for the inspiration of the religious life experience. A false understanding of the world will in-evitably lead to a series of false questions. It will incline the religious to view nature, the world, man, negatively, and argue for a flight from the world. The old concept of God.has undergone a change along with the old concept of the world. But the death-of-God theology has evidently failed to come up with a new con-cept of God. In the. past Christianity was always con-vinced that God is inaccessible and ineffable. Faced with the radical inability to express themselves about God or present him to their fellow Christians, theologians and mystics resorted to an apophatic or negative theol-ogy. They admitted to knowing less about who God is not than about who He is. Oftentimes God was popularly conceived as one who intervened in the world; such repre-sentations of Him in the ordinary theological manuals reflected the social and cultural milieu. The experience of faith in God was colored by the social and cultural context necessarily, but 'this did not render it less authen-tic than the experience of faith in our own cultural situation. 'If our era is less sure of and less concrete in its con-cepts of God, it is because we have turned God into a big question mark and into a popular conversation piece. Perhaps there has been more conversation about Him since his "death" than there ever was while He was still considered "alive." We would like to unmask all the former illusions about God and do away with all the pseudo-gods of the past, but in getting rid of all such idols we have not clarified or facilitated the making of God in our own image. By raising the problem of God in our own day, we are likely to forget our own human condition which threatens to falsify the truth about God. In searching for Him we run the risk of creating other idols .than those we just finished demolishing. One of our approaches to God which hides some of His reality for us and which we may be guilty of in the religious life is to think that we can dedicate our-selves to him directly and exclusively. This approach may be devoid of any real, concrete content, a sort of chase into empty space, a flight after some utopian ideal. The only way remaining for us to express ourselves about Him has to derive from our experience within this world and within this era of salvation history. God speaks to us through men, their world and history; this is the hearing aid by which we can listen to His voice. There r.eally is no opposition between God's word in Holy 4- Religious Lile, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Scripture and the authentic religious life experience of today, for the Scriptures provide us the norm whereby we can be faithful listeners to His word as it appeals to us in today's life experience. The latter feeds our under-standing of God, concretizes it, and gives content to our belief in God. To overlook this fact is to retrace our steps to the days when Christians felt it their duty to separate or alienate themselves from the world. We have no criticism to offer of their religious posture, be-cause it had meaning for them, but it leaves us without a real living God. Today we have the idea that to try to approach God directly and exclusively, without any worldly and human medium, is an unchristian illusion. We are inclined, if not theoretically then practically,, to distinguish between a Christian and a pagan secularity. We believe we come in contact with the living God in and through and with our fellowmen. This does not mean that as Christians we do not respond to God immediately and personally, but that our relationship with Him is real and concrete be-cause mediated through worldly and human realities. Christ experienced the immediacy of God's presence in Himself, in and through His humanity. He willed to be-come God in human form. In like manner we encounter God in the immediacy and mediacy of that image and likeness of Him which is man. What is immediate and what is mediate are not mutually exclusive but are linked together in our relationship to God. Against this modern background the religious life must examine the Scriptures to seek the solutions for the problems facing it. Sacred Scripture contains a number of evangelical counsels that simply are irreducible to the three classic vows the medieval monks or nuns pronounced. In fact, the gospel refers to only one counsel,7 one which was not expressly imposed or urged upon the early Christians.s It teaches that the perfection of love is attainable by all Christians, whatever their state of life, without their having to keep the counsel of celibacy.'° All Christians are called to an observance of the commandments and the other evangelical counsels in order to attain the per-fection of love. The one counsel alone is left to the free choice of every Christian and is the evangelical source from which the religious life has grown. Essen-tially, therefore, the religious life is a freely willed Chris-tian celibate life. This life is lived mostly in a community because few people freely will to live it in solitude.~0 7 Mt 19:10-2. s 1 Cor 7:25. ~ 1 Cor 13. ao Soeur Marie-Edmond, "Qu-attendcnt les jeunes filles?" The personal choice of this style of life is motivated by the gospel and makes sense fo~ alifetime only in virtue of the same~ The force of this motive is borne upon those young people who because of the instability and.change-ability of our age fear giving themselves to any style of life demanding continuity and stability. One who is will-ing to spend his entire life ~s a Christian celibate does.so because he is sensitive to the grace of 'God .cifll'ing. him in thegospel. He feels himself responsible to" God-who so strongly affects him that He becomes the source"of his religious life. But ~he particular form or structure of the religious life inspired by the gospel is ~as such a human project and a human construct. The whole human side of this life has developed in the course of history and is bound up with its vicissitudes. It,has t6 face the challenge of changing customs and cultures in older to survive arid renew itself. .We misunderstand the gospel message if.we base bur choice of a celibate life on a gupernatural motive alon~, as if we conceive the delibate life as a ctfoice between the natural good of marriage and .the supernatural good.of celibacy.11 Dedication of a celibat~ life to God has both immediate and mediate aspects about it, just a~ marriage itself. A couple united in Christian man'iage have an immediate duty toward God though they may mediate their love for Him through each other and thdy mayex-periefice tension and conflict in a way similar to what religious feel when they try to mediate their love for God through the world' and their fellowmen. The reli-gious life therefore has no immediate relationship to God without a worldly and human mediacy. Sometimes the immediacy of the religious life is more apparent, .'for instance, when religious live and work in community~ pray, celebrate the liturgy; at other times, in the apos-tolate, the mediacy of such a life comes into starker relief. Christian ~elibacy has also a human meaning, a natural value aside from its supernatural value, for otherwise, no matter how religiously or supernaturall~? motivated it is, it will somehow be left hanging in the air. Essen-tially it does not consist in a.chgice between God and 'a life partner; rather it is a positive choice of aw~y k)f life having natural and human meaning for those who have the iniier ability to embrace, it. Their choice, when you analyze it thoroughly, does not come down to one be-tween God and creature or between God and the world of man, but it is one which springs from the wholenes~ of his being. Celibacy of its nature permits the celibate to concen- ~ Schillebeeckx, "Het nieuwe mens- en Godsbeeld," p. 12. 4- +- +. Religious Ei~e, - Seculhri~ed Age VOL'U~E 2~, 4" 4" 4" Joseph FichOtn.Se.rC, . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS trate upon a certain life value and to dedicate to it his entire life. He freely accepts celibacy because he is con-vinced this is the only way, special as it may be, for him to be totally expendable. The value he has discovered within himself so fascinates him that he is willing to remain unmarried to achieve it; he places himself at its service; he considers it a part of an authentic life. Christian celibacy, moreover, adds to the natural value a religious, charismatic value, especially if men and women would concentrate their whole life upon its value because they would be witnesses to the world of their conviction. Within the Church their witness to the value of celibacy is a more easily and understood sign. It is seen to be a means some men and women take for the sake of the kingdom of God. Religious give to the world an irreplaceable witness of a supratemporal element alive and at work in it. In a sense they transcend history, manifesting a supernatural value and significance--point-ers to a life beyond the present. The better they can serve mankind in this way of life, the better they are able to serve the God who founded His kingdom among men. Religious men and women will show to the world the. authenticity of their life only if they commit them-selves totally to it, convinced that their expendability makes their style of life worthwhile. Others may sacrifice marriage for the sake of a tem-poral career--scientific, social, political, cultural; but Christian celibacy on the contrary entails sacrifice for the sake of a religious value. In both instances there is a sacrifice of a human value, but in the latter a trans-cendence of the religious self becomes evident. The sacrifice points to a transcendence--men and women are willing to give up marriage not for some secular good but because they want to give evidence of the religious dimension of life.x2 The religious sign value of celibacy too easily fades out or is lost among those who engage solely in a secular career, good and beneficial to society as it may be. More than ever in the past religious must be a sign of the transcendence of God in the midst of a secularized world, even when at times this sign may appear to be nothing else than a protest against a world gone pagan. They give eschatological witness of a life that overcomes the temporality of this worldAa Christian celibacy has essentially a close affinity to the other evangelical counsels, poverty and obedience, in that they too contain positive human and religious values. Heretofore the general tendency has been to re-gard the counsels or vows too negatively and isolatedly. = Karl Rahner, "Reflections on the Theology of Renunciation," Theological Investigations, v. 3, pp. 47-57. 18 Lk 20:34-7. When a problem arises, we are prone to isolate it and to forget it may have far-reaching and entangled roots (the race problem provides a good example in those who advocate job opportunity for a cure-all). Perhaps we lose sight of that unity of purpose which brings all counsels together--the following of Christ in His kenotic life; and especially the unity of the person living a trinity of counsels. Like Christian celibacy, poverty and obedience are questionable because in our time and culture they seem to lack any positive value. Today's trend is to stress the need of getting rid of poverty and of accentuating free-dom, and thus to outdate them. The question then arises how are we religious to retain the positive, human values of the two at a time when they are considered caricatures or illusions of reality. For example, how are we to evaluate poverty in a society characterized by mass production, mass consumption, white-collar work, a so-ciety preferring to poverty a prosperity that promotes health, welfare, and education programs, and leisure? Religious poverty makes sense only if it is in keeping with the real poverty existing among peoples today. Its inherent demand is that we live on a similar basis with the poor and at the same time, precisely because we have pledged ourselves to be poor, join in the effort to better the lot of the poor. Religious poverty must square with the economical situation of society and must take into account the level or standard of living. Young reli-gious are filled with a sense of sha~'ing rather than econ-omizing (as formerly) material, intellectual, and cultural goods--a spirit more current with the times. A balance has to be struck between the means and the end of the religious institute which, in any case, will require a special moderation in food, clothing, recreation, and a determination to earn a communal living by hard work. In addition, various kinds of social work performed by religious may lend themselves to social progress. Religious community life can no longer model its authority upon the medieval feudal system. Religious authority that appeals for obedience in the name of God's will is old-fashioned; it dates back to that old era of the divine right of kings. It leads to a confused idea that superiors must reign and their opinion must prevail under the pretext of deriving their authority from God. On the other hand, wherever like-minded people are ¯ gathered into a community, however much they may be motivated by love, they will still have to hold to the inte-grating factors of authority and obedience. Faithful re-ligious do oblige themselves to observe the will of God. Such a spirit of obedience is all the more sensible when Religious Li]e, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 ~9 ÷ ,÷ ÷ Joseph FicOht~n.Cer., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯30 it believes God speaks His will not only through the superior but within a life situation, within a community living together with love, friendship, dialogue, for the common good, and from within one's Own conscience. This type of obedience is not a blind following of the .superior's will rather arbitrarily determined or unex-plained, nor the keeping of meaningless, minute, mean commands, a routinized life without any commands at all, a perfunctory performance of duty without any pro-fessional competence, but an open-eyed observance of God's will as it is made known within an entire life situa-tion. The American practice of obedience functions best in an equalitarian atmosphere; Americans will not tol-erate supremacists in their midst; they are. used to bu-reaucratic (in the good sense of the word), consultative government. The religious life then consists not first and foremost in a negation, the exclusion of positive human and religious values, but in a special Christian, meaningful way of life. This life does entail the sacrifice of such values as wealth, marriage, independence which most Christians freely choose and cordially treasure. By the mere mention of the words "sacrifice" or "renunciation, we are likely to turn off people who think such practices .dwarf the human personality or stifle its spirit.14 Renun-ciations, however, are emphatically no evasion or escape f.r.om the world. The paradoxical fact about them is that they detach us to some degree from the world so as to allow fuller involvement in other ways.15 Religious do not directly choose to sacrifice earthly and human values, but they do choose a Christian way of life full of other and superior values accepted in a spirit of faith, hope, and love. Tertullian once re-marked: "Every choice implies a rejection." ~0 In choos-ing a kenotic way of lift Christ did not sacrifice human values m~rely for the sake of supernatural values; His prefere, nce was for a way of life out of various, meaning-ful messianic possibilities. Among other things His was a predilection for a celibate life because it left him free to establish the kingdom of His Father.17 Religious likewise are inclined toward a style of life which does not drive them from the world but enables them to orient their life, energy, and competence toward the world's future. Theirwhole thrust is to take the world with them to God, and this is the reason for their willingness to accept sacrifice or renunciation along with that a4 Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, n. 41; Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, n. 46. ~ K. Rahner, "Reflections." 16 Apology, 13, 2. ~"~ Lk 9:23. faithful and unconditional service they would give to God and their fellowmen. The loving service they offer concretizes that self-emptying which contradicts an egotistic spirit. The love they dedicate to God and to the world of men expressly calls for self-criticism, sacrifice, and self-emptying. If there is any emerging feature of the new-style religious life it is the conviction of its' mem-bers that they have to be present in and open to the world. The fact that the religious life is a matter of lifelong choice makes it difficult for people of our times to recog-nize its value and meaning. They are quite well con-vinced, and rightly so, that man is so built as to be un-able to appreciate the unknown dimensions of a human act binding him for a lifetime. Human psychology is so complex that for one to make such a binding decision wonld oftentimes be irresponsible, lighthearted, an act tmcharacteristic of the human will. This attitude is exemplified not only in the modern outlook upon the religious life but upon marriage too. Can man morally commit himself to an obligation that, humanly speak-ing, seems to be contradictory to his very nature? No matter how free and knowledgeable his act may be today, he cannot foresee tomorrow--he may react differently to his choice once he is put into hard circumstances where he is likely to experience his failings. To validate and give meaning to his decision, his only alternative is to entrust himself to Christian hope. That this modern mentality has a glint of truth about it, there can be no doubt. But there are values which for the moment we cannot, certainly not [ully, appreciate or approve, which nonetheless surpass the momentary situation and are imperative for the integrity of man. They have an enduring value; they hold good in any and every situation (with some exceptions) which man has to abide by if he is to be true to his own nature. In the matter of the counsels and their public pro-fession, the vows, we are dealing with a choice that in the first place is not ethically binding, it is not necessary, it is not a matter of commandment. So why should anyone be obligated to keep his choice for a lifetime if he has freely willed it in the first place? Man has an intrinsic right to freely change his mind, to decide tomorrow against his decision today. But this human vacillation is obviously giving the world much trouble. The value of following the counsels for a lifetime lies not in a freedom of choice alone but in the free and faithful acceptance of a way of life. It evidences how a religious finds it pos-sible and meaningful to dedicate himself for life despite his failings and mistakes; he accepts a lifetime of service. Fidelity too, and not only freedom, is a basic human + Religious Lile Secularized VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS quality, .substantiated by both the nature of man and his history. The will-to-fidelity must have meaning therefore; it is not a mere will-o'-the-wisp; it is the expression of the human self once and for always. Despite the fact that man can point to the vicissitudes of history and to the uncertainty of the future, that he can personally leave himself open to various possibilities for the sake of ex-periment, to see how he reacts to them in the process of maturing, still his human limitations tell him that he cannot experiment or vacillate in his decisions forever. His human limitations force him to make that decision to which he can devote the totality of his life. This is what psychologists have called the "fundamental op-tion," which has its correlative reality in a fidelity to grace and is motivated by a single love, the following of Christ. The fidelity, and integrity of a life of the counsels springs from our efforts, gradual and constant, to per-sonalize them, unify them, liberate ourselves thereby from the selfish impulses which may dominate our lives. Fidelity and integrity are ours to the extent that the counsels permeate us; taken together they add up to a complete style of life. I dare say one reason for religious discontent stems from the failure to bring the three counsels within the focus of the one fundamental option. The saying, "Divide and conquer," applies here: the more divided and disrupted a life, the greater the loss of personal energy and the less resistance to difficulties.18 To be a full man is to be faithful to the true self. It is by totally giving that each of us becomes totally him-self. The full Christian is one who gives a faithful re-sponse to that divine fidelity which never fails him unless he proves faithless to himself. The basic human reason for the inviolability of the religious life is the fundamental option, and not the pub-lic vow from which the religious can be dispensed. The religious who opts for the celibate life is a living em-bodiment of the counsels, particularly celibacy; they do not exist in the abstract or in vows or in constitutions. In making a lifelong choice man wants to be true to himself and thus to bind himself in the service of a basic value. This value is an enrichment to both the religious him-self and to his community. The value, as it were, me-diates between the person and the community, recip-rocally helping the person to serve the community and the community to respect and draw benefit from the per-son by warding off some risks of instability. In its wider scope, the value of a religious community extends to the unlimited horizons of the Church and society. When See Summa theologiae, 2-2, q.44, a.4, ad 3. a person publicly announces his fundamental option to live a celibate life in a religious community, he makes an appeal to the community to help him be a full man and a full Christian. He is helped negatively when the com-munity does not interfere with or hinder the realization of his fundamental option--the development of his personality under grace; he is helped positively when the community has a concern and care for his life ful-fillment. The binding force of a vow is derived immediately from the option one makes of God but mediately from the religious community and the Church in which the religious pronounces his vow. The religious .vow has a quality of reciprocity between the religious himself and the community of his profession. Between the two there exists a sort of two-way street of right and responsibility. In our sociotechnic world there still is much need of the other-directed spirit, of teamwork and a measure of con-formity and mutual respect to obtain the same goals. The religious cannot oblige the community onesidedly, nor can the community willfully or lightly discharge its duty toward the religious. Just as the religious can prove unfaithful to his community, so can the community fail the religious particularly if it does not renew or up-date itself. The human and Christian quintessence of the reli-gious life consists of a special concentration upon a lifelong value by means of a freely willed Christian celibacy. Whatever is added to this quintessence is of human creation and consequently is historically con-ditioned. The evangelical inspiration is subsumed into a variety of concrete forms and structures and institu-tionalisations, all of which are bound up with historical experiences and cultural patterns. None of them has eter-nal value, not even the form(s) the founder or foundress gave to the gospel message. Whenever the evangelical inspiration is found wrapped in a new life experience, its particular value can be questioned and criticized by the psychologist, sociologist, economist, hygienist, anthro-pologist, and others interested in the practical life of man. They compel us to rethink the religious life as it is time-honored and -bound in our constitutions. It is a fatal mistake to identify the latter with the gospel in-spiration. The Council fathers of Vatican II were not unmindful of the fact that religious institutes periodically revise their constitutions in order to adapt themselves to time and place. Surely in calling for a radical overhauling of the religious life they were thinking of the social and cultural revolution we are passing through, when slight and detailed changes and modifications are not enough. + + + Religious Li~e, Secularized Age VOLUME 28, 1969 33 + ÷ Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There is much room for consolidating, deepening, and trimming. The crisis we face is deeper and graver than we know; it is clearly evidenced by the revolutionized concept of man and God in our secularized age. If the religious institute as we know it is to survive, we must make a heroic effort to restructure and revitalize it. It does not need a heart transplant, but it will need a series of blood transfusions. Needless to say, the religious institute that cannot or will not adapt will sing its own requiem. The gospel inspiration of the religious life offers no guarantee that the various traditional forms or structures have to endure forever. A religious institute may well have served its purpose and should go out of existence or coalesce with a more viable group. The life experience today is so new, so revolutionalized, so secularized, that in a sense all re-ligious institutes can be considered old which do not reinterpret the gospel in the light of the new life situa-tion. We have to bear a crisis so severe that only a radical restructuring of the religions institute will tide it over: This restructuring has to be more than an offscouring of antiquated practices, making our life easier or more sociable. It has to arise from a thorough re-evangelisation which asks questions of itself and of life as religious live it in a secularized society. Nobody can accomplish this tremendous task but the community itself, and especially its young members who are not baffled by the new life experience becat~se they have been born and raised in it. But one can hardly insist enough upon the duty of the entire community, young and old members, to enter into the restructuring phase. This is not a task divided between the young members pushing ahead with a crea-tive spirit and the old upholding the canons of ortho-doxy. Both have to be patient and indulgent. Nor is it a summoning of an endless series of meetings and discus-sions where members reflect upon their life, haggle back and forth over community life, the apostolate, the struc-tnre of authority, and what have you, yet in the mean-while make no effort at experimentation with new forms and are fearful of groping toward a reincarnation of the religious life. Who does not feel stymied by an inconsist-ency between thought and action, plan and life? Given plenty of room for experimentation, for pilot projects, not necessarily in every monastery or convent but here and there where local needs require it and the proper authorities are willing to assume the ultimate responsi-bility, where everybody enters enthusiastically and not merely tolerantly into the experimentations, thus mani-festing their loyalty to the institute, the religious life will blossom out anew, perhaps in an unsuspected way-- at least under the mysterious, unforeseeable guidance of the Holy Spirit. ANDRI~E EMERY Experiment in Counseling Religious When* I began working at the Hacker Psychiatric Clinic in 1961---on the staff of which I am the only Catholic, unless I count one doctor, who although baptized Catholic does not consider himself a member of the Church--the general opinion of the staff would have paralleled the oft-quoted but not sufficiently validated statement that many more religious than lay persons were mentally ill. At that time they thought, I guess, that most if not all religious must be at least a little crazy.~ In the past seven years the climate of opinion in our clinic has changed, not as a result of apologetic dialogu-ing but through every day, pragmatic experience. Today, if one were to ask our staff for an opinion, they would probably say that the problems of religious were rather similar to those of lay people but that on the whole the religious seemed to be more insightful, more intelligent, and more motivated toward resolving their problems. O£ course, except for the very ill, who constituted merely a fraction of our religious clientele, intelligence and moti-vation could be presupposed; otherwise they would not have asked for psychiatric help. The Hacker Clinic is not a subsidized agency but a private clinic with some 20 professionals on the staff, most of them psychiatrists (M.D.'s). Because of its private character, patients who seek help there are mostly middle-class, financially independent or well insured, and thus comparable to the well-educated and, sup-posedly, well-socialized religious. In the past three and one half years 156 religious--73 men and 83 women-- and 6 diocesan priests were seen in our clinic. I, personally, spent more than 3500 hours interviewing these men and women. Since each person * This is the text of a talk given on August 8, 1968, at the Ameri-can Canon Law Society's Workshop on Renewal at Notre Dame, Indiana. 4- Andr~e Emery, area director of the Society of Our Lady of the Way, is a sociologist and clinical counselor residing at 127 South Arden Boule-vard; Los Angeles, California 90004. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ admitted to our clinic undergoes a full evaluation, which includes testing and psychiatric consultation and in-volves interviews with at least three different profession-als, and since some religious were seen in therapy not by me but by other members of our staff, the total hours spent by our clinic with religious and priests could easily be three or four times this number. I did not include in my 3500 hours time spent in workshops, conferences, seminars, personal interviews during educational ven-tures, nor time spent evaluating aspirants before they were accepted into a community. Thus the 3500 hours, and some, were devoted entirely to direct clinical inter-views, either for evaluation or for therapy. The 156 religious seen in the past three and one half years--118 of whom were finally professed--represent 34 communities. Of the finally professed 66 were religious sisters, 5 were religious priests, 31 were major seminar-ians, 14 were teaching brothers, and two were members of a secular institute of men. One religious priest was on leave of absence, one woman religious was exclaustrated, and three were dispensed from perpetual vows shortly before coming to the clinic. Of the remaining 38 religi-ous, 21 had temporary vows--5 men and 16 women-- and 17 were novices, of whom 14 were men. Only about 10 per cent of these patients were diag-nosed psychotic and approximately another 10 per cent as severely neurotic. The majority merely had problems, probably not very different from those who did not seek our help. The median age of all religious men and women and diocesan priests whom we saw was 28 years. The median age of the men was somewhat lower than this figure, be-cause of the relatively large number of seminarians and novices among them, and that of the women was some-what higher. Only 19 per cent of the women and 8 per cent of the men were over 40 years of age. The services rendered by the clinic varied. 78, fewer than half of the total, were simply evaluated by us. Of these we recommended therapy or counseling for 37, but to our knowledge only in ten instances was our recom-mendation followed. The other 27 did not receive the recommended help. At present, there are 10 men and 10 women religious in therapy in our clinic, 7 of them for less than a year, 13 for more than a year, and there were 64 others in therapy who are no longer coming. 22 hospital patients were visited daily; the majority who were outpatients were seen once or twice a week, and a few follow-up cases were seen once a month. All were seen in individual therapy, but 15 were also in group therapy. Priests and brothers attended group sessions with lay men, the sisters had their own group. 86, or more than half of all the religious and priests seen by us in the past three and one half years, told us that they wished to leave the religious or priestly life. Had we had longer contact with those whom we have merely evaluated, the number might have been even larger. We did not ask them directly about this and not all volunteered unasked-for information in the first in-terview. Exactly half of those who mentioned leaving did leave, most of them shortly after evaluation and without hav-ing been given an opportunity for further counseling-- or perhaps not desiring it. Ten who were in therapy in our clinic left their communities after therapy was in-terrupted against their wishes or against our recommen-dation. Of the 74 whose therapy with us was not interrupted, only four left--three during therapy and one after mu-tually agreed termination of therapy. These figures speak for themselves: problems can and should be solved rather than run from. After listening carefully to a relatively large number of religious men and women, I asked myself the ques-tion: Are their problems similar or different from those that weigh down our other patients? We cannot separate our personal growth and our in-dividual crises from the historical development and con-temporary crises of the group with which we are identi-fied. There is no human being who is free from the influence of the society into which he was born and in which he has been raised. While we sift perceptions and experiences through our personal physical and psycho-logical apparatus that is very particularly our own and give them special emphasis and slant, our apperceptions, our symbols, our values, our conflicts, our likes and dis-likes, the very traits that we think of as most personal, most expressive of our individuality, are suprapersonal. They are consensual with the culture in which we are rooted; at least they must be such if we are to be con-sidered "normal" and not "odd" by our contemporaries. This was brought home to us rather early in our ex-perience with religious patients. At that time some of our non-Catholic staff still expected to find intolerable conditions triggering if not causing the acute problems of religious. (Off the record, I have seen conditions in religious houses of men which I, or most any woman, religious or lay, could not have tolerated, and I am sure that some men, in turn, would feel the same way about our houses.) But to come back to the clinic: Not more than half a dozen of our religious patients described without corn-÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 37 4. Andr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 38 plaint, external circumstances in their convents that seemed intolerable to us. The remarkable thing was that. the communities from which they came were all foreign in their origin and rule and also in their membership. The conditions described would have seemed intolerable to most American religious, too; yet the religious who lived under these conditions, including our foreign-born patients, did not find it particularly intolerable. And so we had to face the fact that our judgment of what was tolerable or intolerable was made from' the point of view of national culture, which was the same for American doctors as for American religious from active congrega-tions. Taking this basic dependency on the culture group for granted, we cannot be astonished that many of the basic problems of religious men and women in the United States do not seem to differ greatly from those of other American men and women. The growth of Western civilization, together with its stratification and specialization, has created models of shifting, sectional, and contradictory prototypes, from Ronald Reagan to Martin Luther King Go Malcolm X. Ours is a mobile society, multi-valued, materialistic, outer directed, as the sociologist would say, easily brain-washed by mass media, advertisements, fads, and. ffish-ions. It is peer-group oriented rather than hierarchical and, at present, is plagued by rebellions, which while not necessarily more violent than those of the past are cer-tainly more ubiquitous. Change and not stability is the epitome of this kind of society even in human relationships, as the steadily in-creasing divorce rate dramatically shows. That time, and thus change, is a human dimension was already recog-nized by Heraclitus 2500 years ago. But the rate of change is not constant; some structures change slower than others; and there are periods when the same entity, be it matter, living being, or human society, slows down or accelerates. The period in human life when change is most evident is adolescence. Yet Erikson, who is perhaps the best known psychologist of this country, calls this period "moratorium"--delay of adulthood, which the young person needs to integrate earlier childhood experiences and to learn to conform to the larger society which will soon replace his immediate family environment. In our Western world--and, particularly in the United States which is considered the apex of it--this morato-rium on adulthood has become extended far beyond the period of physical and sexual maturation and," thus, adolescent problems he.avily "interlace and aggravate the problems that young adults, as a matter of course, must face. It is not that our young who marry or enter religion are much younger in age than were those in former generations, but their readiness to assume adult respon-sibilities, particularly continuing responsibilities, seems to be less. Young and not-so-young religious who were born and nurtured in our culture are no less exempt from this extended moratorium and its consequences than are their married counterparts. Is it really--as we often hear---~the hierarchical struc-ture of religious communities that keeps religious im-mature? More immature than their lay counterparts? We did not find religious more immature or more frequently immature. But, obviously, those who did not wish to assume responsibility, for whatever reason, had a better excuse, a ready-made rationalization. Still, the child wife, the happy-go-lucky husband are not rarities either. The impulsive adolescent who marries or enters religion, having "fallen in love," will back out quickly, and this will be less traumatic for the religious than for the married. But those who cling to the idealized image con-structed by their immature motivations and resist facing reality---even a reality not inferior to their fantasy, just different--will experience severe crises, in marriage or religious life alike--one, two, five, ten years after their initial commitment. The fantasy wears away bit by bit, leaving them numb, empty, and somehow feeling cheated. I was told with great feeling by a 25-year-old mother of four that she had just discovered that she was not a teen-ager any more but "mommy" and that she did not like it a bit. As a matter of fact, she did not know whether she liked children at all. And I had to listen to a very angry, very depressed young superior of 28, who "just wanted to do a good job," but whose ambition was thwarted by the non-cooperation of several sisters, in-cluding one severely mentally ill, and who found that she could not maintain the unruffled, cooly kind exterior that earned her the early appointment to office. The pedestal broke, both under the community where "such things could happen" and under her who could not live up to the fantasy ideal. But to go a step further: Not only does our culture extend the moratorium on adulthood, it openly vaunts that adulthood is not worth aiming for. We have a cult of youth--the historical development of which, though relevant, cannot be presented here. Youth has ceased to be regarded as a transition period in which adult living is learned, in which adult identities are crystalized. It has become an aim, an identity, a subculture, emulated in some ways by the broadest segments of society. Who wants to be an adult today? (And who wants to be a + + ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 39 A~dr~e JEnt~ry REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious superior?) The model wears a miniskirt not only on her hips but in her (or his) head. At the same time, in strange contradiction but with unavoidable logic, we have put terrible responsibilities and burdens on young shoulders, probably more so than did any former generation. One of the main characteris-tics that differentiate human from animal life is time binding: the ability to transmit experience from one-generation to another. To demand from young people that they learn all the answers "on the go," pragmati-cally, by experimentation, to pretend that in the few years of their lives they could and should discover or duplicate the accumulated experience of mankind is sheer hypocrisy, or what is worse, delusion. The im-mature cannot become mature in human society with-out guidance. To quote Erikson: "By abdicating, by abrogating responsibility, the older generation deprives the young from forceful ideals which must exist for their sake--if only so that they can be rebelled against." Ra-tionalizing our inconsistencies and vacillations, our cow-ardice and lack of principles, with the excuse that it frees them from dependency does not help the young to grow. Is the peer society of the street gang superior to the authoritarian family still found in urban minority groups and in farming areas? If we elected (or, God forbid, appointed) only religious under 35 years of age into all offices, would that really guarantee a better gov-ernment than when we acted according to a different cultural pattern and gave the offices only to the old and supposedly "wise"? Are the younger more tolerant, do they show more empathy, more Christian virtue than the old? Or the other way around? No. The generation gap is legitimate only as an ado-lescent phenomenon--as a pause (though a very active pause) in which the young person has left childhood behind and has not yet reached adulthood. Otherwise the gap is mostly semantic: personalities clashing because they do not use the same symbols, same words, for the same concepts. Interestingly, now it is the old who are expected to learn the jargon of the young and not the other way round. I still smile when I remember a recent conference attended by some 200 people where no one was less than twice 16, and most three times that age and more, and where we had to sing Ray Repp songs during Mass--which in my opinion are both poor music and poor theology--just to show that we were "with it." To this point I have spoken only of a basic social fact--I don't like to call it problem--that affects both lay people and religious in our culture and which is at the root of many symptoms that we encounter in the clinic. There is an important facet of the present confusion that (oncerns religious and priests in particular. At a recent discussion in our clinic I was asked whether I could specify the ideal, the model of a religious--his own concept of his role or identity. I had to admit that had I been asked this question ten years ago, or even five, I would have thought it answerable--but not now. Incidentally, I have asked this same question of several major superiors and received just as vague a reply. It becomes more and more clear that the theology of religi-ous life still needs to be written. Up to the time Pope John opened the windows of the Vatican, we have had--and to some extent we still have--a subculture of religious institutes, distinct though related to othe~ subcultures of the Catholic Church. In the United States the religious subculture was colored by Irish-French, or rather 'French-Irish Ca-tholicism. This religious subculture, this cultural island, was well defined, stable, hierarchical, in contrast to the mobile, multi-valued, peer-oriented culture that sur-rounded it. It had not only a particular philosophy but also its own symbolism and language--understood only by the initiated but understood by all of them much in the same way. Because of its confidence-inspiring stability and the idealism of its teachings, it greatly appealed to many: to the searching, to the young who wanted to cut the apron strings but still needed support, to those who needed status, or those who wished to leave behind materialism, competition, and self-seeking. In a sense it was all to all: it provided security and challenge, asceticism and freedom from cares, opportunity for self-development and oppor-tunity for self-sacrifice. Or so it seemed. As we have been a nation on wheels for some time, not only the present generation of religious but at least two previous ones had to do quite a bit of adjusting to this distinctly delineated structure when they left their families of origin. Perhaps the children of foreign-born parents found it easier to adjust--perhaps not. It de-pended on how much they introjected or, conversely, rejected the values of their primary group. But whether first, second, or fourth generation of Americans, all who entered attempted to adjust to religious life as they found it. I said, attempted to adjust, because our early up-bringing cannot be completely eradicated and conflict patterns will persist. Many of our seriously ill patients were older men and women: some chronically ill with symptoms of chronic frustration in attempted adjust-ment; some acutely ill, with primary processes breaking through the surface of more or less successful controls exercised for years. Adjustment to the religious life, however, has not been 4- Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 4] ÷ ÷ ÷ A~tdr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS entirely a one-way street. Needs and values which the individual member brought from his primary culture had also an effect on the religious institutes. These slowly changed, became more American in character, sought some kind of equilibrium with the broader society around them. Still, on the whole, they remained distinctive. Thus, the young person who entered might have found it more or less ego syntonic, more or less cor-responding to his personality and early upbringing, but rarely found it completely so. The religious way of life always demanded sacrifice, self-denial, rejection of some earlier values. At the same time it offered sufficient re-wards to enable the individual to exist in it. And then, if I may say so without offending, after Vatican II we suddenly changed horses mid-stream. The point here is not whether the change was for the better or for the worse, and most of us hope and trust that it will be to the better; nor am I questioning the need, in some respects the overdue need, for change. I merely wish to underscore the unavoidable problems that arise from such a massive and headlong change. For the sake of illustration, imagine that you are a teacher, nurse, or drill-press operator and on short notice you are told that your job description and the require-ments for employment have been redefined and that the procedures as well as the rewards have been changed. Moreover, not only are the old role definitions super-seded, but you are told that you must get new directives and guidelines--except that you are not sure from whom or what. Would you not get upset? As one of my patients said: "Formerly we knew that if we got on the boat that went in the right direction and didn't get of[, we were ok. Now we are made personally responsible to get where we are going, but no one has yet thought it through how to get there." Under such circumstances it is understandable that severe conflicts develop. You will say that most of the changes were thoroughly discussed and dialogued, that they were not sudden, that opinions were polled, votes were taken. No one's good will and integrity are being questioned. But even if experiments Were discussed beforehand, did we evalu-ate them thoroughly afterwards? This conference is an attempt to do so. Just how long is it that we have been discussing them? Two years, three years, five years? If we cannot integrate complex childhood experiences during the normal years of adolescence and must extend the moratorium, just how long do you think we need to sift and integrate the huge mass of divergent opinions, rules, roles, and behavior that has been sprung on us in the recent past? A frequent consequence is panic, and not necessarily among the old timers who now have an excuse to remain passive, to leave the initiative to the young, and, if they cannot resist temptation, to sit back and criticize. It is more often the young who panic, because the responsi-bility is too great. Hence exodus of many young progres-sives. Willy-nilly, they accept re.sponsibility for them-selves, but not for the groupl And one cannot blame them; the rules of the game are equivocal and they do I . not know what will prove rewarding. When the religious role is merely a thin veneer on the .I personality, under the abrasion of uncertainties and clashes it wears off. Religio6s ,,who s'eeme,d, to be well adjusted now revert to tlaeir real selves--and since public disapproval has diminished--leave the subculture with which they were not fully identified. It is only lately that we have come to recognize that ¯ I keeping young religious isolated for long periods in the exclusive company of their peers, even for the sake advanced education, did not help them develop ~rich human qualities and did not foster community spirit. They tended to remain a sepa, rate group which out of psychological necessity had to f, ancy itself better and dif-ferent from others, inside and outside the community. The unreality was further inflated when the young sisters were assigned, strmght from school, into positions which their lay ¯counterparts ~could achieve only .after many years of hard work. We liave seen the young Ph.D. who was made a full professojr right after she received her degree leave the community when she encountered the first serious obstacle; the[ young R.N., supervisor without ever having been a rookie nurse, getting doctors, staff, and patients into turmoil land feeling "defeated for good"; the young priest, promiiing member of his order, going literally on a sit-down strike because he could not do all that he expected from hi~nself and from others. Into this group belong also t~e men and women whose delayed adolescence led to so-cAlled "late blooming" and who leave religious life because of real or purported .I sexual oroblems. In our experience, there were far fewer of .these than generally assumed, at least among the women religious. Here I must stop and quali[y~ what I have just said. In the last two months 78 case histories accumulated on my desk, of clients not seen by us in the clinic but about whom I was consulted by a non-sectarian adoption agency. These are cases of seventy-eight ex-religious, most them college graduates, many with advanced degrees, who left their convents 6 to 18 months ago and who are expecting a child out of wedlock. They are mostly in their middle thirties, and most of the fathers of the child ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 Andr~e Emery REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 44 to be are members of underprivileged minority groups. Not one was a victim of rape. Practically all said the same thing: our community did not change fast enough with the times; our community is not involved with the poor and underprivileged. We wanted to get dose to people in a personal apostolate (none of them were trained social workers); we wanted to live with them in the inner citymand get involved. And so they did. A few of them stated that they were advised by priests to leave the celibate life and get married. But, one of them added bitterly, they never warned her how few eligible men there were in her age bracket. Not knowing these women personally, I cannot judge how many had serious sexual problems, for which this certainly was not the answer, and how many were naively following fashions or using broadly preached but not sufficiently thought through slogans to excuse their im-mature acting out. As regards the quoted advice, it seems to be freely given to both men and women religious, as if marriage were a cure for sexual problems, to be used on prescriptionmwhich incidentally doesn't work rather than a sacrament and a responsible human relationship requiring maturity and mutual respect from the part-ners. ~Arhile some of the foregoing is a regrettable but pre-dictable reaction to stress, enhanced by a cultural incli-nation to buy what is advertised or what is in fashion, irregardless, there is an additional psychological com-ponent in the existing confusion among the religious. When a person searches for a new identity or new iden-tification, by definition he ceases to act in the role of a mature adult. He regresses to quasi-adolescence, to turmoil, indecisiveness, influencibility, impulsive acting out. We have seen this syndrome frequently in refugees and adult immigrants when they tried to adjust to their new country and its culture. The search for new mean-ing, new relevance, new identity in the religious life, whether to the better or worse, per se increases the turmoil caused by other individual and social factors. Perhaps the present quasi-adolescent upheaval of the religious is unavoidable, and hopefully it will lead us into a more and better integrated religious adulthood; but it is painful for those who go through it and more often than not embarrassing for the onlooker. Having become aware of widespread immaturity in comtemporary society and of its consequences, we are now inclined to fall into another pit. We are tempted to demand the impossible: that the girls and boys who enter our institutes, seminaries, convents, be mature. Per-haps maturity could be demanded if we would up the entrance age by some 20 years, in the hope that someone else would give the young the necessary guidance and would develop their personalities for religious life. We cannot stock novitiates and seminaries with sure bets--we have to take chances. We cannot screen out all who are immature, because if we do we abdicate as religious educators, as adults who take the responsibility for nurturing and forming the young. And certainly we should not screen out anyone on the basis of one test, given in absentia and scored by someone who never saw the applicant in person. On the other hand, we should not let young religious take perpetual vows when there is a serious question regarding their suitability. Severely neurotic persons, not to speak of psychotic or potentially psychotic ones, should not be burdened hy commitments which they will not be able to keep. But, when a professed member of a community be-comes disturbed or mentally ill, do we have a right to say that he should never have entered, that she never had a vocation, that they should be let go if at all possible? Are only the perfect seated at the banquet of the Master? Father Orsy last night said that St. Peter would not have been canonized--I don't think he would have been ac-cepted into a novitiate. Are our disturbed brothers and sisters very different from us but for being harder hit by suffering? Who is my neighbor? Only the under-privileged in the inner city? These troubled men and women in our communities are our closest neighbors. They are our poor: we have accepted them, we formed or tried to form or deform them, and we must bear their burden if we are to be called Christians. There are great differences in attitudes toward disturbed religious in their communities. Trying to get rid of them, with the shallow excuse that they never had a vocation and never should have been accepted, is injustice, even if there should be some truth in it; sending them from house to house or cramming them into the motherhouse is no answer to the problem either, and neither is the plan to live in an apartment with chosen friends the solution. When I said good-bye to the chief of our clinic, he said: "You will make a theological point, won't you? [He meant some reference to religion.] After all, you will be speaking to religiousl" I am tempted to belabor for a couple of minutes the often heard remark that no one wants to commit him-self today--which is true to a certain extent. But more often than not we found that persons, religious or lay, are desperately hungry for commitment. They want to give themselves to something or someone. They so very much want to entrust themselves to some group or indi-vidual. But they have not learned to trust because they Counseling Religious VOLUME ~'8, J.969 + ÷ Andr~e Emery REVIEW'FOR R'EL'~G IOUS ,t6 have not found anyone really trustworthy in their young years. Therefore they want and need some tangible evi-dence of appreciation, something in exchange--love or ~uccess--and they want a way out if things do not work out. Their needs are unfulfilled childhood needs; their reservations are rooted deep down in bone and marrow. The concept of commitment is not easily reconciled with such reservations--certainly not Christian commitment which must be an adult act of self-giving. I know that the saints and particularly the mystics are not "in" now, but rarely have I found a better description of the "perfec-tion of charity" (if I may use such an antiquated term) than in one of St. Catherine of Siena's mystical dialogues when she heard our Lord say." I have placed you in the midst of your fellows that you may do to them what you cannot do to me, that is to say, that you may love your neighbor of free grace without expecting any return from him. Someone asked how to tell whether a tree brought good fruit? We are too often inclined to think of success as good fruit. From where did we, Christians, get this notion anyhow? Of instant success as a must? Or even as hard-earned reward of the just? Christianity always was a losing cause, at least in the short run. Few apostles have reaped where they have sown. There was a small item in the Los Angeles morning paper the day I left home. I cut it out because of its deep significance for us. The follow-ing is an excerpt from it: The finest sermon he ever heard, said Dr. Eugene Carson Blake, was just three sentences long. It was delivered by Miss Kathleen Bliss of the Church of England, before the Central Committee of the World Council of Churches last year. In a very brief closing service we had sung the ancient hymn, "Veni Creator Spiritus". Dr. Bliss then read from the Gospel of Luke in the 4th Chapter, the account of Jesus returning to Nazareth and entering into the Synagogue and opening a book where it read, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering the sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to pro-claim the acceptable year of the Lord." ,, Then Dr. Bliss spoke her three sentences. Our hymn was a prayer in which we dared to ask for the presence and guid-ance of the Holy Spirit. We never know whether He will come or what He will do to us if He comes. I remind you that the scripture account which we have just heard goes on to tell us that Jesus' neighbors in Nazareth then tried to kill Him." .There is another variation on the success theme that is even more disturbing than the naive expectation of in-st~ int reward. In our work with religious we frequently came face to face with a man or woman, capable, tal-ented, "who was deeply angry, resentful, depressed, be-cause he or she was not omnipotent. Some wanted to change others, some wanted to change themselves, some sought external success, recognition, others the persdnal satisfaction of achievement, or, occasionally, material goods. None of them faced "this carnal reality," the limits of human existence, in themselves and outside. They wanted something and therefore it had to be. If it did not happen, they went on a "strike" or they became negative, withdrawn, maneuvering-~each according to his personality. Passive-aggressive? Not always. But what-ever the pathology or the character structure, with one's "third ear" one perceived the echo of the ancient pro~nise: And you will be like God--all knowing, all powerful. When the promise did not come true, there came forth the even more ancient answer: Non serviam. I will not serve. Familiar? Some years ago it was thought that emotionally dis-turbed and mentally ill people were often preoccupied with religion. Actually, in certain crisis periods of life, such as 5-6 years in childhood, in adolescence, in the so-called change of life, when approaching death, people become preoccupied with basic human problems: life-death, love-hate, God or the void. There is a certain logic in that people should turn to God in periods of suffering and turmoil--though sometimes this might be expressed in the form of cursing. I might have misunder-stood one of the earlier speakers, and if I did, I apolo-gize, but it seemed to me that she said that the suffering and the dying are always completely self-centered. Not always, as many concentration camp cases have shown, to mention only extreme instances. When an individual is deeply rooted in a culture that recognizes the tran-scendent, and if his childhood trust was permitted to grow into adult faith, even if he experienced shorter or longer periods of emotional fatigue (to use an euphe-mism) in high and low periods of life he will return to God. This is why I was deeply shaken by the fact that of the 161 religions and priests to whom I have listened for several thousand hours, only two, one priest and one brother, mentioned God. No matter how much I would like to shun it, how can I avoid asking the question: What tragic lack in us, Christian parents of the present generation, religious men and women, teachers, nurses, social workers, catechists, what tragic lack in us has buried God so deep that even the suffering and the troubled cannot reach Him today? Indeed, there is a need for renewal that goes far beyond adaptation. + ÷ ÷ Counseling Religious VOLUME 28, 1969 ANDREW J. WEIGERT Social Dimensions of Religious Clothing Andrew J. Wei-gert is a faculty member of the De-partment of Soci-ology and Anthro-pology at the University of Notre Dame in Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Catholic experience as presently interpreted in America is undergoing many changes.1 In the midst of such widespread change, there may be a danger in under-valuing certain sociological dimensions of clothing in the case of the religious orders, both men and women, and to some extent for the diocesan clergy as well. The prob-lem is no doubt most pervasive in the religious orders of women. At the same time, there seems to be some un-clarity and lack of simple sociological principles to in-form the discussion and aid in the decision making. A folk adage has it that "the cowl does not make the monk," but the resistance offered to changes in religious garb from certain quarters makes it apparent that some may think differently. Nor is such resistance always to be attributed to unthinking conservativism. It may be based on a well founded respect for the "reality" and social, power of appearances. These realistic bases for questioning the advisability of change for the sake of change deserve respect and should be distinguished from various traditions which grow around uniforms (for example, saints appearing in a certain habit) as attempts to legitimize and sanctify a uniform for all times, places, and social orders. The present discussion of religious clothing will focus around two value orientations which are taken to be more or less conflicting: witnessing for other-worldly (transcendent) values, and identifying with this-worldly (immanent) values. In order to witness for other-worldly values, an individual must be recognized as standing for such values; and the sign, for example, a uniform which cannot be identified with contemporary cultural styles, which enables him (throughout this paper, the him will refer to the "religious," both male and female, with all wish to thank Sisters Rosina Fieno, C.S.J., and Mary Margaret Zaenglein, I.H.M., for criticizing .an earlicr version of this paper. II due respects to the latter) to be recognized as a witness also sets him apart from non-witnessing persons. Simi-larly, in order to be identified with this-worldly values, an individual must be recognized as belonging to the group which shares these values. Social recognition, as mediated by clothing, is a cognitive process whereby the viewer classifies and labels individuals according to his interpretation of their tailored appearance. An in-escapable social-psychol0gical dimension of every social order is the necessary visual "giving off" of information about his place and identity in that society which each individual proffers in his appearance. Stated aphoris- ~tic.ally, a member of society cannot not "appear," tha

KEMAL'S INFIDELITY AND ITS INFLUENTIAL FACTOR IN ORHAN PAMUK'S THE MUSEUM OF INNOCENCE Ayu Setya Rahayu English Department, Language and Arts Faculty, State University of Surabaya cosmeticmiracle@yahoo.com Drs. Much. Khoiri M.Si. English Department, Language and Arts Faculty, State University of Surabaya much_choiri@yahoo.com Abstract Infidelity is defined as unfaithfulness of being unreliable or being attracted to someone other than one relationship partner. There are two types of infidelity, emotional and sexual infidelity. What constitutes an act of infidelity varies within cultures and depends on the type of relationship that exists between people.This study is aimed to present infidelity as experinced by Kemal as the main character in Orhan Pamuk's The Museum of Innocence, and to reveal the most influential factor of his infidelity.The study uses descriptive qualitative research with psychoanalitic approach. The object of the study is The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk, published in New York by vintage books in 2009. The data are in the form of quotation, fragments, and dialogues or monologues that indicated the thoughts and action concerning form of infidelity, and also its most influential factor. The data is analyzed by applying the theory of infidelity by Dirgosta and Barta, and also the most influential factor of it. This study also uses the theory of love and will by Rollo May to reveal his influential factor that lead to his infidelity based on the concept above and the quotation depicted in the novel.The result of this study shows thatKemal, the main character of this novel, commits both sexual and emotional infidelity. Initially, he becomes emotionally connected with someone outside of his relationship named Fusun. One way of looking at emotional infidelity is, that it is very dangerous, because it is not only takes away time and energy from his relationship, but it lead him to sexual infidelity and to the end of his engagement. Andthe main factors of Kemal's infidelity represented from this novel is he falls in love with someone else named Fusun. Actually, this novel is story of love of Kemal and Fusun, then his feeling of love that prompted him to take an action in certain direction which can realize his purpose of love. Because in love, there is definitely a will to unite with beloved people, then it gives rise a boost in his heart to betray his fiancee. Keywords: Infdelity, love, will, novel Abstrak Perselingkuhan didefinisikan sebagai ketidaksetiaan, diandalkan atau tertarik pada orang lain di luar dari pasangannya . Ada dua jenis perselingkuhan , perselingkuhan emosional dan seksual . Yang merupakan suatu tindakan perselingkuhan bervariasi dalam budaya dan tergantung pada jenis hubungan yang ada antara manusia. Penelitian ini bertujuan untuk menyajikan perselingkuhan yang di alami oleh Kemal sebagai sebagai tokoh utama dalam novel berjudul The Museum of Innocence karya Orhan Pamuk, dan untuk mengungkap faktor yang paling berpengaruh dalam perselingkuhannya.Penelitian ini menggunakan penelitian deskriptif kualitatif dengan pendekatan psikoanalisis . Objek penelitiaan ini adalah novel The Museum of Innocence karya Orhan Pamuk , yang diterbitkan di New York oleh vintage books tahun 2009 . Data tersebutdi peroleh dalam bentuk kutipan , fragmen , dan dialog atau monolog yang menunjukkan pemikiran dan tindakan mengenai bentuk perselingkuhan Kemal dan juga faktor yang paling berpengaruh. Data dianalisis dengan menerapkan teori perselingkuhan oleh Dirgosta dan Barta untuk mengungkapkan refleksi penggambaran perselingkuhan Kemal dan juga faktor yang paling berpengaruh. Penelitian ini juga menggunakan teori cinta dan keinginan oleh Rollo May untuk mengungkapkan faktor paling berpengaruh yang mengarah pada perselingkuhan yang didasarkan pada konsep di atas dan kutipan yang digambarkan dalam novel. Penelitian ini menunjukkan bahwa Kemal , tokoh utama dalam novel ini , melakukan perselingkuhan baik seksual mapun emosional . Awalnya , ia menjadi terhubung secara dengan seseorang di luar hubungannya, bernama Fusun . Salah satu cara untuk melihat perselingkuhan emosional adalah , bahwa sangat berbahaya , karena tidak hanya menghilangkan waktu dan energi dari hubungannya sebelumnya , namun membawanya ke perselingkuhan seksual, hingga merusak pertunangannya dengan Sibel. Dan faktor utama perselingkuhan oleh Kemal yang tergambar dalam novel ini adalah ia jatuh cinta dengan orang lain bernama Fusun . Sebenarnya , novel ini adalah kisah cinta Kemal dan Fusun , maka perasaannya cinta yang mendorongnya untuk mengambil tindakan dalam arah tertentu yang dapat mewujudkan tujuan cintanya . Karena di dalam cinta , pasti ada keinginan untuk bersatu dengan orang-orang yang di cintainya, kemudian memberikan dorongan dalam hatinya untuk mengkhianati tunangannya . Kata kunci: Infidelity, love, will, novel Introduction Within the context of intimate relationships, infidelity has been defined as a partner's violation of norms pertaining to the level of emotional or physical intimacy in which people engaged in outside the relationship (Drigotas & Barta, 2001:45). In the currentera,many strange phenomena appear and done by society. One of the interesting behavior in humansare donetoday is infidelity and that is very oftenaround environment. Not only household commit infidelity, but also in interpersonal relationship. The phenomenon of infidelity is dominant on the socioeconomic statu sof middle to top, especially in big cities. Moreover, the problem of infidelity is often atrigger forvarious cases of divorce or even murder. There are two kinds of infidelity that occurs in today's modern society, the emotional and sexual infidelity.Emotional infidelity in channeling emotional feeling for someone outside the relationship or marriage, whilesexual infidelity isi having sexual intercourse outside of relationship or marriage.The case of emotional infidelity begin when two beings of different sex, begin exchange of information, and the feelings that it was actually supposed to be feel just exclusive for partner. And started to be worse when there is no excitement and keep the distance with ypartner and began to yearn to talk to someone else, rather than the one romantic partners. The climax it will past the limit and begin to emerge the real problem in the relationship that shouldn't happen, that's secrets and lies. And when the lie begins,it will difficult to stop. Then, sexual infidelity is just waiting for the right moment. Talking about infidelity, nobody can remove it from the word "love", because if the lovethat isbuilt with the previous couple is strong and sturdy, then the affair could have been avoided. Love is a natural thingin human life. Love is a basic human emotion, but understanding how and why it happens is not necessarily easy. In fact, for a long time, many people suggested that love was simply something that they couldn't understand. Accoding to Erich Fromm, to love somebody is not just a strong feeling, but it is a decision, it is a judgement, and it is a promise,if love were only a feeling there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever (McGee G. Mark, 1980:208).It means that if the love is just relying on feeling, without the underlying on bond and the sacred promise, as well as the commitment to be together forever, then that love won'tlast long. Psychologist Rollo May proposed that romantic love is made up of four elements: sex, eros, philia, and agape.In conclusion, adult personal relationships containing four forms of love, this relationship based on the sexual satisfaction, a desire for eternal unification and non egoistic concern for the welfare of others. But unfortunately, this kind of authentic love quite difficult to accomplish. At the same time, love hint of tenderness, passion, commitment, and devote themselves to the beloved personal interests, from there, love gives rise to will, the will is an impulse that comes from love, where lover have a will to unite with people they love (May, 1969: 146). In this case, if the love for partneris not strong enough to keep the relationship in order to survive and also the lack of commitment and promise, then sometime there will arise a feeling of love to others, and if the love is greater than the old partner, then the infidelity could happen. In literature like novel, many of whichraised issue of infidelity, where in novel, is related to the human's emotion and expression of feeling, Including ideas, motivation, and describe it by using language. Novel also has people or characters with their own personalities that can represent and act to carry issues that occur in the society. Morover, the dispositive of characters is described in outline only and the events described, contains a mental conflict, which resulted in a change of fortunes. A novel TheMuseum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk has many sources in culture, love, social, combined into a variety of events and actions. The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk also depicts infidelity between a rich man and a poor shop girl, in the background of the Turkish city which at that time was experiencing modernization. These issues of infidelity in the background of love willbe discussed in more interesting and more complex from a variety of perspectives in one character. Orhan Pamuk was born in Istanbul in 1952 and grew up in a large family similar to those which he describes in his novelsCevdet Bey and His SonsandThe Black Book, in the wealthy westernised district of Nisantasi. As he writes in his autobiographical bookIstanbul, from his childhood until the age of 22 he devoted himself largely to painting and dreamed of becoming an artist. After graduating from the secular American Robert College in Istanbul, he studied architecture at Istanbul Technical University for three years, but abandoned the course when he gave up his ambition to become an architect and artist. He went on to graduate in journalism from Istanbul University, but never worked as a journalist. At the age of 23 Pamuk decided to become a novelist, and giving up everythingnelsenretreatednintonhisnflatnandnbeganntonwrite. His first novelCevdet Bey and His Sonswas published seven years later in 1982. The novel is the story of three generations of a wealthy Istanbul family living in Nisantasi, Pamuk's own home district. The novel was awarded both the Orhan Kemal and Milliyet literary prizes. The following year Pamuk published his novelThe Silent House, which in French translation won the 1991 Prix de la découverte européene.The White Castle(1985) about the frictions and friendship between a Venetian slave and an Ottoman scholar was published in English and many other languages from 1990 onwards, bringing Pamuk his first international fame. The same year Pamuk went to America, where he was a visiting scholar at Columbia University in New York from 1985 to 1988. It was there that he wrote most of his novelThe Black Book, in which the streets, past, chemistry and texture of Istanbul are described through the story of a lawyer seeking his missing wife. This novel was published in Turkey in 1990, and the French translation won the Prix France Culture.The Black Bookenlarged Pamuk's fame both in Turkey and internationally as an author at once popular and experimental, and able to write about past and present with the same intensity. In 1991 Pamuk's daughter Rüya was born. That year saw the production of a filmHidden Face, whose script by Pamuk was based on a one-page story inThe Black Book. His novelThe New Life, about young university students influenced by a mysterious book, was published in Turkey in 1994 and became one of the most widely read books in Turkish literature.My Name Is Red, about Ottoman and Persian artists and their ways of seeing and portraying the non-western world, told through a love story and family story, was published in 1998. This novel won the French Prix du meilleur livre étranger, the Italian Grinzane Cavour (2002) and the International IMPAC Dublin literary award (2003). From the mid-1990s Pamuk took a critical stance towards the Turkish state in articles about human rights and freedom of thought, although he took little interest in politics.Snow, which he describes as "my first and last political novel" was published in 2002. In this book set in the small city of Kars in northeastern Turkey he experimented with a new type of "political novel", telling the story of violence and tension between political Islamists, soldiers, secularists, and Kurdish and Turkish nationalists.Snowwas selected as one of the best 100 books of 2004 byThe New York Times. In 1999 a selection of his articles on literature and culture written for newspapers and magazines in Turkey and abroad, together with a selection of writings from his private notebooks, was published under the titleOther Colours. Pamuk's most recent book,Istanbul, is a poetical work that is hard to classify, combining the author's early memoirs up to the age of 22, and an essay about the city of Istanbul, illustrated with photographs from his own album, and pictures by western painters and Turkish photographers. Orhan Pamuk's books have been translated into 46 languages, including Georgian, Malayan, Czech, Danish, Japanese, Catalan, as well as English, German and French. Pamuk has been awarded The Peace Prize, considered the most prestigious award in Germany in the field of culture, in 2005. In the same year,Snowreceived the Le Prix Médicis étranger, the award for the best foreign novel in France. Again in 2005, Pamuk was honoured with the Richarda Huck Prize, awarded every three years since 1978 to personalities who "think independently and act bravely."In the same year, he was named among world's 100 intellectuals byProspectmagazine. In 2006,TIMEmagazine chose him as one of the 100 most influential persons of the world. In September 2006, he won the Le Prix Méditerranée étranger for his novelSnow.Pamuk is an honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and holds an honorary doctorate from Tilburg University. He is an honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters as well as the Chiese Academy for Social Sciences. Pamuk gives lectures once a year in Columbia University. Lastly, he received the 2006 Nobel Prize for Literature, becoming the second youngest person to receive the award in its history. Apart from three years in New York, Orhan Pamuk has spent all his life in the same streets and district of Istanbul, and he now lives in the building where he was raised. Pamuk has been writing novels for 30 yearsnandnneverndonenanynothernjobnexceptnwriting.(http://www.orhanpamuk.net/biography.aspx) The Museum of Innocenceis the latest Orhan Pamuk's novel, published on August, 2009.Pamuk has been working on the novel for many years and it has been hinted by himself in many interviews during this period. The story, which takes place in Istanbul between 1975 and today, is about obsessive love and the great questionof what is love. This colorful and fabulous novel will not only challenge the reader's thoughts about love, but also those about marriage, sex, passion, family, friendship, and happiness. The story begin with the apparent narrator named Kemal who is engaged to be married to Sibel. Kemal is a rich man when he by chance encounters a long-lost relation, Fusun, a young shopgirl whose beauty stirs all the passion denied him in a society where sex outside marriage is taboo. But Kemal, a young man with high passion has several times having sex with Sibel, and of course it is also more likely to do so with Fusun. Kemalwho really falls in love with Fusun,goes ahead anyway with his long-planned engagement to perfect partner Sibel, then Fusundisappears. Kemal finally breaks off with Sibel, finds Fusun, waits eight years for her to dump her husband (by going to her family's home some four times a week). In relationship, there will be many problems. The union of two different people, usually can cause contention and eventually lead to big problems. Feelings of love, affection, understanding, and accepting shortcomings of couple, is the very need in a relationship. Because according to psychologist Erich Fromm in his book The art of loving (2006:99) love is an essential of human need. That is, if theneed love is not fullfilled it will cause the problems.In this novel, Kemal who had been engaged to a woman with equal social class with him, women withwell education and from a wealthy family, it seems perfect to be his life partner. Kemal eventually leaveshis fiancée in order to pursue his dream to be unite with Fusun.The infidelity issues in the novel has the most significant cause,Kemal lack of affection to his fiancee, so that makes him fall in love with another woman. This novel begin at Istanbul in 1975. Kemal is a rich and engaged manBut when Kemal encounters Füsun, a poor beautiful shopgirl and a distant relation, he becomes enthralled. And once they violate the code of virginity, when sex before married considerd as taboo at that time.The firsttime hemetwithFusunwaswhenhe boughtjennycolon bag tohis fiancee, sibel, an upper-class beautiful girl. The city of Intanbul is captured by pamuk with a romantic touch, sturdy apartments of the rich man, once supported. The lovers met in Merhamet Apartments, in a flat abandoned by his mother. He dated his first secret meeting with Fusun to the spring of 1975. At that time, Pamuk initially planned Kemal to marry Sibel, a fashionable young woman with enlightened views of life, she goes without limits enlightened with Kemal. Love becomes the main motive, when someone can destroy virginity code. Fusun ends their relationship when she learns of Kemal's engagement with Sibel. But Kemal cannot forget her. It will take Kemal almost a year to find her again, a year of driving through every neighbourhood of the enormous city, months of heavy drinking in which he loses all interest in Sibel, even after they move in together. Sibel hopes to save him from what seems an inexplicable sadness, and learning the truth enrages her. To her, Füsun is just "a common shopgirl", a slut, even though they have each only slept with one man. Both sexual and emotional infidelity bound this novel. How kemal lie and keep his secret relationship to sibel, while he loves someone else and having sexual intercourse with Fusun. Psychologist Rollo May defines love into various types, such as sex, eros, philia, and agape. Sex is defined in category where someone loves another person just because of an underlying sexual appetite. Eros is defined as a lover which includes not only sexual intimacy, but also the feeling of love, attention, care so as to make the relationship last. Philia is defined as a sincere friendship, while gape is defined as selfless feeling or don't expecting reward (Jess Feist and Gregory J. Feist, 2009:58-59). In the case of Kemal in this novel, his love for Sibel does not meet all of four elements above, thus making their relationship is not too strong to survive. Then he finds Fusun, and feel the perfect love. In analyzing Kemal's infidelity and the most influential factor, it is used some related concept and one theory. In this thesis, the problem statement is divided into two. The first problem statement deals with how Kemal's infidelityreflected in this novel. While the second problem deals with the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. Those problems can be analysed by using the psychological approach as the base of the guide and theory. The first statement is how Kemal's infidelity reflected in The Museum of Innocence. This statement will use the concept of infidelity by American psycologyst, Dirgostra and Barta. This concept is united and merged with the bases of marital or extramarital relationship. There are two kinds of infidelity in this concept. The writer will analyses which kind of infidelity that Kemal uses through the quotations and monologues. Then the second statement is what is the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. This statement will also apply the concept of infidelity factor. Actually, the are a lot of infidelity factos, but the writer only use one factor that tha most represent based on quotation in this novel. The factor is love.So, ithe writer will use the theory of love and will that become the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. This concept is developed by existential psychologyst, Rollo May. It is about the unity between love and will, this circles of love and will is however affected to his infidelity. Methods Research methodolgy that used in this analysis here must be qualified as an applying in literary appreciation. The thesis is regarded as a descriptive-qualitative study and uses a library research.The data obtained to answer research question study. This study uses novel of Orhan Pamuk entitled The Museum of Innocence that published in 2009 as the data source of this study. The datas are in the form of direct and indirect speech of the characters, dialogues, epilogues and quotations which indicate and represent aspect of infidelity and love and will which is experienced by the main character. This thesis is using the library method in collecting the data. It does not use the statistic method. That is why it is not served in numbering or tables. Library research used an approach in analyzing this study. The kind of library research which is used here is intensive or closely reading to search quotations or phrases. It also used to analyze the literary elements both intrinsic and extrinsic. The references are taken from library and contributing ideas about this study from internet that support the idea of analyzing. Some steps of how the data is analyzed will be described as follows: Classification based on the statement of the problems. This classification is used to avoid the broad discussion. There are two classifications in this study. They are infidelity and The main factor that lead to his infidelity. Describing Kemal's infidelity which is stated from the quotations or statements by using theory of infidelity to be applied to the data. Describing the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity which is stated from the quotations or statements by using theory of love and will to be applied to the data. RESULT How is the students' writing ability of SMP Muhammadiyah 5 in writing descriptive text after they being taugh by picture puzzle. Infidelity, is the main topic that will be analyzed. Many couples are under the misconception that infidelity only occurs when a man and a woman have sex together. Yet, there are other forms of infidelity such as emotional infidelity.Emotional infidelity may take on different forms, but in general it is the act of forming an emotional connection with someone outside of one's formal relationship. Kemal Brasmaci, the main character of the novel, born as a wealthy and well eucated instanbul family in Nisantasi. His fascinating live, ranging from being a socialite among A class people, and he prefers to live as a modern Turkish, in which at the time, Turkey was undergoing modernization with the influence of European culture. 30-year-old Kemal Basmaci, works as a bussinessman and lives in Merhamet Apartment which will be a silent witness to his secret love adventure with his distance relation, Fusun. Initially, Kemal is set to be engaged to a well educated and high socety girl named Sibel. Kemal first meetsFusun when he bought a Jenny Colon bag to Sibel in Sazalize boutique where Fusun works in. When he step up in Sazalize boutique, Kemal looks like very attentive to every detail in Fusun's clothes and shoes, her yellow skirt, her empty shoe over her long bare legs, her long till Dexterous fingers. Kemal begins to admire Fusun's beauty. Knowing that, because it was less than 10 years they had not met. There was a silence. I looked again into one of the pockets she had just pointed to inside the bag. Her beauty, or her skirt, which was in fact too short, or something else together, had unsettled me, and I couldn't act naturally. (Pamuk, 2009:6) Based on quotation above, Kemal gives the impression of a "darting" man by notices detail of what Fusun wear. Her skirts that look very short, her beauty, and anything else that can not be said. Actually, it does not really matter, but there is something rustled in Kemal's heart. It became the beginning of Kemal's interest feeling to Fusun. Moreover, Kemal also admittes that he can't act naturally when dealing with Fusun, he feels uneasy, but rather, look awkward in front of the opposite sex, there is definitely something special, something that raises passions and encouragement in his heart, even if it happens on the first time he meet. In this case, Kemal commits emotional infidelity by having eventual emotional connection, or a feeling of interest with someone other than one his romantic partner. Beside perform emotional infidelity, Kemal also perfor sexual infidelity has been defined as behaviour of a sexual nature carried out with someone other than one's primary partner.Usually, cheating involves people meeting face – to - face, and then engaging in physical intimacy. Beside having emotional infidelity with Fususn, he also comitted sexual infidelity, because the emotional affair can lead to phsycal affair. the intimate nature of the communication, plus the emotional investment made by the people involved, places an emotional infidelity become more intimate, and perform sexual intercourse, such as having sex kissing, touching, etc. The verry first page in this novel Tells about Kemal's happiest moment of his life. Having sexual intercourse with Fusun in his appartement. We felt the same coolness rising from the musty mattress on which we were making love, the way children play, happily forgetting everything else.(Pamuk, 2009:1) Based on quoatation above, it is clearly mentioned that Kemal comittes sexual infidelity by having sexual contact with Fusun, a woman other than his one romantic partner. In the firs page of this novel, Kemal explained clearly how and the steps of having sex with Fusun, and describes the atmosphere when they were in apartment when doing so. Because having sex is actually become a necessity. They look really enjoyed with the secret relationship, the way the kids played, happy to forget everything else seemed to describe what they both feel at that moment, as if they feel in pleasure without limits and make them forget themselves, forget about all the obstacles and problems that never happened, that there was only pleasure at that time. The second analysis is about The most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. In this novel, Kemal Brasmaci a perfect gentleman, well educated, came from a wealthy, and respectable family in the city, is set to be married to perfect Sibel, who comes from an equal family as him. Many people assume if they are a perfect match. Kemal actually love Sibel, the woman who would soon be engaged to him. They both underwent a romantic date, having a harmonious family, came into exclusive places, even they both also have made love, although in that era, having sex outside of marriage is considered as taboo. Psychologist Rollo May argues that love is a pleasure, love is a pleasure to the presence of someone, as well as a confirmation of the value and development of the beloved person, just like themselves. Love is able to make a big motivation to someone, which raises the desire to realize the dream to be unite with someone they love. While Will of its own, generating an action to self directed, so that certain goals can be achieved. Kemal actually has already realized if what he has done is the most fatal mistake in his life, even he can not imagine how the devastation that can occur, as a result of these actions. But Still his love for Fusun become a big power that able to beat all obstacle. Kemal has been trying to forget Fusun, consider if he never loved Fusun. But, it can be covered by his feelings love that he could never lose, and always encouraged him to betray his old partner. Finally, Kemal continued to repeat the days of their togetherness, having sexual intercourse in his apartement. I am certain that the fire at the heart of my tale is the desire to relive those moment of love, and my attachment to those pleasure. For years, whenever I recalled those moments, seeking to understand the bond I still felt with her, images would from before my eyes, crowding out reason; for example, Fusun would be sitting on my lap, and I would have taken her large left breast into my moth. (Pamuk, 2009:53) From the quotation above, it is illustrated that Kemal feels her turmoil, that grows more fiery, he even wants to revive the her passion of making love with Fusun, because it is considered as a pleasure for him. Kemal is very attached, and no longer awkward in doing his pleasure in his secret relationship with Fusun. His tremendous sex desire to make love with Fusun, bring it into delusion when they're together. Kemal always be remembered while they are making love, for example when Fusun sits on his lap, and he holds the Fusun's left breast, then puts into his mouth. The thing that Kemal does based on description above is sexual infidelity, because he was having sex with a woman other than his partner. Kemal pleasure in making love with Fusun, is the Will of Kemal who loves Fusun. That is, the Kemal's impulse to commit sexual infidelity influenced by his love for Fusun. It was proved that Kemal has strong emotional ties to Fusun like people who really love his partner, even for many years, Kemal still remember the time they spent together, which can not be removed from his memory. Conclusions From overalls of this study, can be conclude that Kemal comitts infidelity, by having a relationship with Fusun, and violate her engagement to Sibel. In this novel, Kemal commits two types of infidelity, they are emotional and sexual infidelity. Kemal enjoying passionate sexual intercourse and perform a deep emotional attachment with Fusun. Kemal committs both infidelities at the same time. At first, Kemal perform emotional infidelity with Fusun, starting when he met with Fusun in Sanzalize boutique, where Fusun work, he began to admire Fusun, beauty, watching his every movement, pay attention to her clothes. From there, came a strange feeling inside Kemal's heart that he had not been aware of. But over time, that feeling grow stronger. Moreover, the two lovers are getting often met. Emotional Infidelity sounds fairly simple, but it is not as simple as that. Precisely emotional infidelity more dangerous than those who experienced only sexual infidelity. Because sometimes emotional infidelity could lead to a more intimate relationship, and over time will be difficultto integral, as experinced by kemal. As already described above, that emotional infidelity can lead to sexual infidelity, because the people who are already emotionally attached, will also certainly have the desire to have sexual intercourse.In this novel, Kemal also perform sexual activities that are engaged in with someone other than one 's partner. Activities that constitute sexual infidelity include all forms of physical intimacy, from kissing to sexual intercourse. Its pretty clearly described through the evidents in this novel, that Kemal and Fusun often make an appointment to meet at the apartment and Kemal to meet, it is like two people in a drunken romance.It has been shown clearly to the quotation analysis of the first statement problem that Kemal perform his first sexual infidelity, starting by giving a kiss, till make a love. Second conclusion is, actually there must bereasonsbehindKemal's infidelity. But themost crucial factor that is found based on the novel's quotation is his love for Fusun since the beginning of his meeting in a boutique. Initially, Kemal did not have any shortage in his relationship with Sibel, his fiancee.He admitts that he loves Sibel. Even though it is not described implicitlythe describtion of his love for Sibel, but it can be inferredeksplicitly that Kemal was not really love Sibel, it is proven when Kemal seems too easy to fall in love with someone else, and since then, his attention on sibel start to reduced, and even when his relationship with Fusun grows further, he decides to break his engagement with Sibel. People who really love their partner sincerely, certainly will not to do so. Love, which is built by Kemal and Fusun is very great anf strong, exceeding Kemal's love to Sibel, probably thi is because Kemal and Sibel's relationship came from matchmaking. Kemal who love Fusun, give birth to a Will for betraying his fiancee, Sibel. It means that the Will here, is an impulse to do something, without being influenced by the values of the good or bad.Those impulse can take him into a particular direction in which the desired goal can be realized. People who loves someone, like Kemal, definitely have a desire to be happy with Fusun, or want to united with her, So that it can give rise animpulse in his heart to betray his partner, so he could be much longer having relationship with Fusun, a person he love. Refference Drigotas, S.M., & Barta, W. 2001. The cheating heart:Scientific explorations of infidelity.New York: Guildford Press Feist, Jess and Feist, Gregory J. 2009.Teori Kepribadian:Theory of Personality. Terjemahan Sjahputri Smita Prahita. Jakarta:Salemba Humanika --- . 2009. Theories of Personality. Terjemahan Santoso Yudi. Jakarta:Pustaka Belajar Friedman S., Howard, Miriam W. Schustack.(2006). Kepribadian Teori Klasik dan Riset Modern. Jakarta:Erlangga Fromm, Erich, 2006. The Art of Loving.Seoul:Choun Publishing Co. Glass, S. P., & Wright, T. L. 2004. The relationship of extramarital sex, length of marriage,and sex differences on marital satisfaction and romanticism:Athanasiou's data reanalysed. Journal of Marriage and the Family May, R. 1967. Pshycology and the Human Dillema. Princeton, NJ:Van Nostrand McGee, Mark G. 1980. Introductory Psychology Reader. St. Paul: West Publishin CO. Pamuk, Orhan.2009. The Museum of Innocence. New York: Vintage Internet Source: http://www.orhanpamuk.net/biography.aspx

Issue 17.5 of the Review for Religious, 1958. ; A. M. D. G. Review Reli¢ious SEPTEMBER 15, 1958 St:. Th6r~se of t:he Holy Face . . , Barnabas Mary Ahern The Neurotic Religious . . . Richard P. Vaughan The General Chapl:er . Jd.seph F. Gallen Practical Menl:al Prayer? . Edward blagemann Book Reviews Questi.ons and Answers Roman Documents about: The Peace of Christ The Use ot: Latin Moral Problems in Psychology VOLUME 17 NUMBER 5 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VO~.UME 17 SEPTEMBER, 1958 Nv~s~z 5 CONTENTS ST. TH~R~SE OF THE HOLY FACE-- Barnabas Mary Ahem, C,P . 257 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 270 THE NEUROTIC RELIGIOUS--Richard P. Vaughan, S.J .2.7.1 THE GENERAL CHAPTERmJoseph F. Gallen, S.J .2.7.9 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J .290 OUR CONTRIBUTORS .300 HOW SHOULD MENTAL PRAYER BE PRACTICAL?E Edward Hagemann, S.J . 301 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmarm, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 307 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 30. Secular Institutes Assisting Religious . 317 31. Avoiding Responsibilities of Common Life .318 32. Spirituality Founded on the Will of God .319 33. Higher Superiors Who Do Not Understand American Conditions . 320 34. Sisters Studying Privately . 320 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1958, Vol. 17, No. 5. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F~ Weiss, S,J. Copyright, 1958, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a ~ear; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please se~d all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard. St. louis 18. Missouri. Th r6se ot: t:he I-Ioly Face Barnabas Mary Ahern, C.P. AsK ANYONE khe convent name of the Little Flower, The ~answer will always be--Sister'Th~rb'se'of the" Child Jesus. Somd perhaps wiil kno~v that she"bore another title, that h'~r full namd Was Sistdl Th~r~e of 'the Child Jesus ani~ of the Holy FacE. 'But people prefer the short form of .her name~ riot 0nly because' ik is easier to Write, but als6 because it breatkies "the ~vhole spirit of her life. To the world at large she will 'alw'a~,s! be the ""little" saint of the" divine Child, who became holy by imitating His simplicity and lowliness. It is surprising, then, to read the words of Mother Agnes of Jesus, the older sister and "little mother" of Th~r~se, who knew her better than an~,one 'else. In~' 'the process of~ beatifica-tion she stated clearly: "The Servant of God felt especially drawn to devotion to 'the Holy Face. Her devotion to the Child Jesus, tender as it was, is"not to "be compared with" the devotion she felt for the Hol~ Face." This does not mean that the popular notion of the Little Flower's love" for' the divine Child is unfounded or that men have exaggerated the childlike simplicity of her way of holiness. But it is a reminder that to ~appreciate the full strength, of her holiness we. must remember that she was also Th~k~se of the Holy Face. She" did not always bear~ this title~ On first entering Carmel in April, 1888, she Was happy to reci~ive the name, Th~r~e of the Child Jesus; for it expressed "the great 10re of her young heart.' Up to that time the. "mysteries of the divine infancy had been both the'. inspiration and the model of her spiritual striving. But once in Carmel, Th~r~se often heard her sister, Agnes of Jesus, speak fervenyly of lov~ for the Holy Face, a devotion 257 BARNABAS MARY AHERN Review for Religiou~ that every French Carmel cherished because of a tradition that, in 1845, Sister Saint-Pierre of the Carmel in Tours had received several striking revelations on the meaning and power of this devotion. Our Lord asked for new Veronicas to com-fort Him by reparation for the sins of blasphemy and the sins against faith that had covered His countenance with pain and filth during the hours of the Passion. His words were poig-nant: "I seek Veronicas to wip~ my divine Face and to honor this Holy Face which has so few adorers!''1 At the same time He promised Sister Saint-Pierre that, by means of this devotion, she would work wonders: "Just as the King's image is a talisman through which anything may be purchased in his kingdom, so through My adorable Face--that priceless coin of My humanity --you will obtain all you desire.''~ Mother Genevieve of St. Teresa, foundress of the Lisieux Carmel, wove this devotion into the .very life of her community; and Agnes of Jesus, a devoted disciple of Mother Genevieve, made it her own in a special, way. Therefore, her words to ThSr~se glowed with a strong, personal devotion and burned an indelible memory. For the young saint often repeated Agnes's teaching in her later writings. Thus Christ's request for "new Veronicas" recurs in her letters, while His promise to regard this devotion as a "priceless coin" inspired one of her most beautiful prayers. But this. unveiling of the Holy Face did much more than present a new object of devotion. It opened away of life and provided a "home" and a "heaven" during, the nine. years she spent in Carmel. "It was at the threshold of her life as a nun that Th~r~se, encouraged by Mother Agnes of Jesus, awoke .1 Abb~ Janvier, l/ie de la $oeur Saint-Pierre, 3 ed. (Oratoire de la Sainte-Face: Tours, 1896), p. 230. 2 Ibid., p. 234. 258 September, 1958 ST. THI~R~SE " to the devotion which rapidl~ took a very individual, very pro-found, orientation in her soul.''3 Even a cursory glance at her convent life gives an instant impression of the preponderant influence of her love for the Holy Face. Within eight months after entering, she was so devoted to it that, at the time of her clothing, January 10, 1889, she asked to add the title, "of the Holy Face," to her previous religious name. This meant that ever after she would strive to be not only a joyful adorer in the stable of Bethlehem, but also a devoted Veronica tenderly ministering to the bruised and bleeding face of the humble Man of Sorrows. This love in-spired many of her poems and most of the prayers which she composed for herself or the novices. She frequently mentioned it in her letters and painted its image on chasubles and memen-tos. A small prayer-card representing the Holy Face always rested on her breviary when she recited Divine Office and on her choir stall when she made mental prayer. During her long illness she kept this picture pinned to the b~d-curtain to strength-en her in suffering. Thus the Holy Face was truly "a radiant sun" illuminating her whole religious life. This orientation took place early in her life at Carmel. In June of 1888, two months after entering, she entrusted her soul to the spiritual direction of a remarkable Jesuit retreat-master, P~re Pichon, only to lose him a short time later when he was transferred to Canada. She describes the occurrence in her autobiography: Hardly had Father Pichon undertaken the care of my soul when his superiors sent him to Canada, and I could not hear from him more than once in the year. It was then the Little Flower which had been trans-planted to the mountain of Carmel turned quickly to the Director of directors and gradually unfolded itself under the shadow of His cross, having for refreshing dew His tears and His blood, and for its radiant sun His adorable Face. 3 Note to L6tter LVI, from ,The Collected Letters of Saint Th~r~se o/ Lisieux, edited by the Abb~ Combes, translated by F. J. Sheed, copyright 1949, Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York, p. 88. All subsequent references to the letters of the Little Flower will be given in the notes as C. L., referring to this definitive English trans-lation. 259 BARNABAS MARY AHERN Review for Religious Until then I had not appreciated the beauties of the Holy Face, and it was you, my little Mother, who unveiled them to me. Just as you had been the first to leave our home for Carmel, so too were you the first to penetrate the mysteries of love hidden in .the Face of our Divine Spouse. Having discovered them you showed them to me--and I under-stood . More than ever did it come to me in what true glory consists. He whose "Kingdom ig rmt of this world" taught me that the only king-dom worth coveting is the grace of being "unknown and esteemed as naught," and the joy that comes of self-contempt. I wished that, like the Face~ of Jesus, mine "should be, as it were, hidden and despised," so that no one on earth should, esteem me: I thirsted to suffer and to be forgotten.4 These words contain the chie~ elements in the life she was to lead for the next nine years. The consecutive series of her letters makes clear that love for the Holy Face became the dominant motif in her spiritual striving. She found inspiration in "the mysteries of love" hidden there and made it her constant aim to seek likeness with Christ crucified through suffering and being forgotten. In a true sense, this devotion became for her one of those great directive graces which shed new light upon the_spiritual way. Ever after Th~r~se walked with eyes fixed on the disfigured beauty of the face of Christ, following the course of His Passion step by step. There was nothing of "conversion" in this new orientation. It took place quickly because she was so well prepared for the way of life which this devotion requires. A glance at her earlier years explains how and why the Holy Face became so soon the "radiant sun" of her years in Carmel. She tells us, "A sermon on the Passion of our Blessed Lord was the first I thoroughly understood, and I was profoundly ~ouched. I was then five and a half." The years that followed abounded in the sharp, personal sufferings of a highly sensitive temperament. But love for Christ only grew stronger through the trials she endured. Therefore, even before entering Carmel, 4 Saint Therese o[ Lisieux, autobiography edited by T. N. Taylor (P. &'Sons: New York, 1926), p. 125. All the quotations throughout the of the article, unless the contrary is specifically indicated, are taken autobiography. 26O j. Kenedy remainder from this September, 1958 ST. TH]gR£SE she was ready for that new light on the Passion of Christ which urged her to tireless teal for souls. She describes this grace in her autobiography: One Sunday, on closing my book at the endof Mass, a picture of the crucifixion slipped partly out, showing one of the Divine. Hands, pierced and bleeding. An indescribable thrill, such as I had never before experienced, passed through me; my heart was torn '~vith grief al the sight of the Precious Blood falling to the ground, with no one caring to treasure it as it fell. At once I resolved to remain, continuously in spirit at the foot of the Cross, that I might receive the divine dew of salvation and pour it forth upon souls. ~ From that day, the cry of iny. dying Savior: "I thirst!" resounded incessantly in my heart, kindling within it new fires of. zeal. To give my Beloved to drink was my constant desire; I was consumed with an insatiable thirst for souls, and I longed at any cost to snatch them from the everlasting flames of hell. Shortly after, she heard of the impenitence of the mur-derer Pranzini. Here was an opportunity to labor in the new field which love for Christ" had opened before her. She pleaded for _the criminal's conversion and by her prayers obtained it. Before execution Pranzini" "seized a crucifix which the prie.st he/d towards him, and kissed our Lord's Sacred Wounds three times!" The e.xl~erience ~onfirmed Th~r~se in her new way of showing love for Christ: ~he writes: After.this answer to prayer, my desire for the salvation of souls increa~sed day by day. I seemed to hear our Lord whispering to me as He did to the Samaritan woman: ';Give me to drink.". It was truly an exchange of love: I poured out the Precious Blood of Jesus upon souls, and that I might quench His thirst, I offered to Jesus these same souls refreshed with the dew of Calvary. But the more I .gave Him to drink, the greater bei:ame the thirst ofmy own poorsoul, and this was indeed my most precious reward. . ,] "/ .~ ¯ ¯ _,~.;The young Therese had also learned how necessary it is to strive for true humdtty tf one ~s to love God perfectly. Prob-ably this conviction came .to her through constant reading of the Imitation of Christ, where the theme recurs, "Love to be unknown and to be accounted "as nothing.''5 Experiences in 5 Cf. Therese s statement: "For a "long time I had sustained my spiritual life on the 'fine flour' contained in the lmitation~o[ C/irist: It was the only book from which I derived any good . I always carried it about with me." 261 BARNABAS I~IARY AHERN Review for Religious her own life confirmed the wisdom of this rule. For by the age of fifteen Th~r~se had learned that man's praise is like "a vapor of smoke," so that later she wrote of ~his period: "I understood the words of the Imitation: 'Be not solicitous for the shadow of a great name,' and I realized that true greatness is not found in a name but in the soul." Thus, even before entering Carmel, Th~r~se already possessed the mature wisdom that unless one constantly seeks the last place he will never'be fully happy. She had learned, too, that suffering must play. an important role in her life. This conclusion flowed directly from her great love of the divine Child, the devotion that sanctified her girl-hood. Writing of the trials she endured during her pilgrimage to Rome in 1887, she says, For some time past I had offered myself to the Child Jesus, to be his little plaything; I told him not to treat me like one of those precious toys which children only look at and dare not touch, but rather as a little ball of no value that could be thrown on the ground, tossed about, pierced, left in a corner, or pressed to His heart, just as it might please Him. In a.word, all I desired was to amuse the Holy Child, to let Him play with me just as He felt inclined. This is the Th~r~se who entered Carmel--Th~r~se of the Child Jesus. Her soul was rich with the strong virtues of love, humility, self-abandon, and zeal. She knew the meaning of the Passion of Christ and knew, too, that love for Him means love for souls. She was ready, then, for the great grace that came to her in the first days of convent life--the unveiling of the Holy Face before the eyes of her soul. She gazed upon it with rapt love, for it was the face of "the Lord whom she cherished with her whole heart. Ever after, she made special thanksgiv-ing for this grace-filled discovery on the feast of the Transfig-uration, when "His face shone as the sun." But it was, above all, the disfigured face of the suffering Christ that formed the special object of her devotion and the dominant inspiration of her life. That is why at the close of her life, looking back on her years in Carmel, she was able to say, "Those words of Isaias, 'There is no beauty in Him, nor comeliness; and His look was, as it were, hidden and despised,' are the basis of my 262 September, :1958 ST. TH~R~SE devotion to the Holy Face,~ or rather, the 'kiasis of my whole spirituality.''° So it was. The disfigured countenance of the suffering Christ diffused a soft glow over her whole life showing her how every incident offered opportunity to renew Veronica's act of love and to deepen her own resemblance to Him. All things worked together to strengthen this new influence. For the first month at Carmel brought Th~r~se special trials that were to last until the end. "From the very outset," she writes, "my path was strewn with thorns rather than with roses." The superioress frequently humiliated her, and others also pro-vided her ample opportunity "to be accounted as nothing." Then, too, though she lived so close to her. two sisters and loved them dearly, she strove for perfect detachment; this led to misunderstanding and frequent sorrow. But these "pin-pricks" were nothing in comparison with the crucial suffering that struck its blow two months after she entered. The aged father who was dearer to her than any other on earth suddenly became a helpless inv.alid partially paralyzed both in mind and body. Cloistered in Carmel, Th~r~se and her two older sisters, Agnes of Jesus and Marie of the Sacred Heart, were unable to help him or even to see him. All care devolved upon Celine, the only sister who still remained at home. This separa-tion from her stricken father and the ceaseless worry it occa-sione. d formed a crushing cross that .lay heavy upon Thbr~se until his death six years later. She had good reason to write, ' "I can truly, say that . . . suffering opened wide her arms to me from the fii:st." It was precisely at the beginning of these trials that her sifter Agnes spoke of the .Holy Face. What she said we do not know; but she must have spoken warmly and competently, for Th~r~se always regarded her as a special apostle of this devotion and declared that, of all her sisters, Agnes was "the first to penetrate the mysteries of love hidden in the Face of our Divine Spouse." o L'EsiOrit de Sainte T/terese de l'Eni~nt .]esus, edited by the Carmel of Lisieux ¯ ('Office Central de Lisieux), p. 131. 263 BARNABAS MARY AHERN Review for Religious As for Th~rhse herself, the Holy Face became her all. She gazed upon it in the. disfigurement of the Passion, when bruises and wounds and filth so hid the beauty of .Christ's coun-tenance that He could hardly ~be recognized just as the Pro-phet had foretold,."There is. no.beauty in. Him, .nor comeli-ness: and we have seen Him, and there was'no sightliness, that we should be desirous of Him: despised and the most abject of. men, a man of sorrows and ~acquainted with infirmity; and his look was as. it were hidden and despised . and .we. have thought Him as it were a leper, and as one struck by. God and afflicted" (Isa. 53:2-4). Yet for Th~r~se this disfigured face was the mirror of the Sacred Heart; its very sufferings were radia.ntly beautiful with the love and tender, mercy ~hat:prompted Christ to accept all. '~'In this we have come o to know His love, that He laid down His life for us" (I Jn. 3:16). Even more the thorn-crowned Holy Face was luminous with the light of divinity3, for its very unsightliness shone with "the: goodness and kindness of God our Savior." Therefore, she fixed her gaze upQn this countenance, because she knew that this poor sufferer, was the very God who loved her infinitely. In her eyes His disfigurement was at once the veil hiding His divinity and the mirror revealing His infinite love. "The' veil hiding His divinity . " This truth meant a great, deal to the young Carmelite. Dafighter of St. John of the Cross,-she knew well his sublime teaching: God is "hidden from the soul, and it ever-beseems the soul, amid ~' all these grandeurs, to consider Him as hidden, and to seek Him as one hidden.''~ This is precisely what she did through her devotion to the Holy Face. She always sought her beloved Lord, in the hiding-place of His pain and ignominy, because she could see the "radiant sun" of" His divinity gleaming through the veil of His wounds and bruises. That is why she asked, "Let Jesus take the poor grain .of sand [herself] and hide it in' His Ador- St. John of the Cross, T/te $1~iritual C.anticle, translated by E. Allison. Peers (B~irns, Oates and Washbourne: London, 1934), II, p. 32. ~ 264 September, 1958 able Face . There the poor atom will have nothing more to fear.''s Thus the thought of the Holy Face meant for her ~peace and rdpose; for it meant the presence of God who is always the refuge of His poor, vexed creatures. She wanted others too to share her sublime confidence that to love the Holy Face is to" be safe in the hiding place of God. Therefore, the act of consecration which she composed for the novices concludes wi~h' tl~ese words, "Since,Thou art the true and only Home of Our souls, our songs shall-not be sung in a strang.e land. . Dear Jesus, Heaven for us is Thy hidden face!''9 ' Time and again she had seen Him bow His' thorn-crowned head beneath the burden of man's ingratitude and had heard Him whisper with bruised lips the word of divine forgiveness. For Th~r~se, then, the Holy Face was not only a veil hiding His divinity; it was also a mirror reflecting the tender love of the Sacred Heart. This conviction glows in her words to Celine: "Jesus burns with 10ve for us--look at His adorable Face. Look at His glazed and sunken eyes! . . . Look at His wounds .Look Jesus in the face! . . . There you will see how He loves us.'~° The same thought recurs in a feast-day greeting which she gave to M6ther Agnes on January 21, 1894. The card which she herself had painted represents the Child Jesus hold-ing flowers in His hand and, in the background, the Holy Face and the instruments of the Passion. She. added this note: His little hand"does not leave the flowers which gave Him such pleasure . [Soon, He catches glimpses in,the distan, ce of strange objects bearing no resemblance to spring flowers. A cross! . . . a lande! . . . a crown of thorns! Yet the divine Child does not tremble. All this He cho.oses, to show His bride how He loves her! But it is still not ~enough, His STo Sister Agnes (1890), C. L., p. 127. 9 This same theme is developdd at ie~gth in her Canticle oi the Holy Face, a poem. ~°To Celind, (April 4, 1889), C. L.,.p. 98. 265 ]~ARNABAS MARY AHERN Review for Religious child face is so beautiful, He sees it distorted and bleeding! . . . out of all likeness! . . . Jesus knows that His spouse will always recognize Him, will be at His side when all abandon Him, and the divine Child smiles at this blood-streaked imageJ1 yBut true love hastens to draw love's conclusions. Th~r~se saw plainly that if the great God chose to be hidden out of love for His creatures, then she must become hidden out of love for Him. This was the clear teaching of St. John of the Cross: . [God] is hidden . Wherefore the soul that would find Him through union of love must issue forth and hide itself from all created things . And it must be known that this going out is understood in two ways: the one, a going forth from all things, which she does by despising and abhorring them; the other, a going forth from herself, by forgetting and neglecting herself, which she does in holy abhorrence of herself through love of God.12 ¯ All this became a normal practice for the young Carmel-ite, because of her love for the Holy Face. She knew that" Christ had suffered the forgetfulness and insults of men. There-fore she spent her nine years of convent life seeking to be hidden from all, even from herself. The way of humility that He trod was her way. She encouraged the novices, too, to follow Him and had them pray: "O Beloved Face of Jesus . . , our. only desire is to delight Thy divine eyes by ,keeping our faces hidden too, so that no one on earth may recognize us." She was more explicit in a letter to Celine wherein she develops the teaching of St. John of the Cross on the "hidden" way : to God: Celine dearest, rejoice in our lot, it is very lovely! . . . If Jesus hac~ chosen to show Himself to all souls with His ineffable gifts, surely not "one would have spurned Him; but He does not want us to love Him for His gifts; it is Himself that must be our reward. To find a thing hidden, we must ourselves be hidden, so our life must be a mystery! We must be like Jesus, like Jesus whose look was hidden (Isa. 52:3) . "Do you want to learn something that may serve you?" says the Itl~itation: "Love to be ignored and counted for nothing. : . ." And in another place: "After you have left everything, you must above all leave yourself; let ~1 To Mother Agnes (January 21, 1894), C. L., p. 216. 12St. John of the Cross, 0~. cir., pp. 33, 36. 266 September, 1958 one man boast of one thing, o~ne of another; for~you, place your joy only in the contempt of yourself." May these words give peace to your soul, my Celine.~3 Hence, Th~r~se was always happy when the veil of humilia-tion settled down upon those whom she loved. The day her sister Agnes was chosen prioress, unpleasant Circumstances cast a gloom over the election. That evening Th~r~se wrote her a note: ¯ Oh, how lovely a day it is for your child! The veil Jesus has cast over the day makes it still more luminous to my eyes; it is the seal of the adorable Face . Surely it will always be so. "He whose look was hidden," He who continues hidden in His little white Host. will spread over the whole life of the beloved apostle of His divine Face a mysteri-ous veil which only He can penetrate.~4 If this is what she desired for others, how much more complete was the oblivion she desired for herself. She devised every means of hiding her acts of virtue and rejoiced wfienever she was set aside or treated with contempt. In a letter to Agnes she expressed her earnes~desire to share the humiliation and oblivion of the Passion: Pray for the poor little grair~ of sand. "May the grain of sand be always in its place, that is to say beneath everyone's feet. May no one think of it, may its existence be, so td speak, ignored . The grain of sand does not desire to be humiliated, that would still be too much glory since it would involve its being noticed; it desires but one thing "to be FORGOTTEN, counted as nought!" But it desires to be seen by Jesus. The gaze of creatures canndt sink low enough to reach it, but at least let the bleeding Face of Jesus be turned towards it.~ Humility and meekness, silence and self-effacement--these virtues that shone so. luminously on the face of the suffering Christ were the virtues that Th~r~se strove to make her own. At any cost she wanted to resemble Him perfectly. Thus the burden of her prayer became the all-inclusive desire, "O Ador-able Face of Jesus, sole' beauty Which ravishes my heart, vouch-safe to impress on my soul Thy Divine likeness, so that it may not be possible for Thee to look~at Thy spouse without behold- ~aTo Celine (August 2, 1893), C. L., pp. 197-98. ~4To Mother Agnes (February 20, 1893), C. L., p. 183-84. 15 To Sister Agnes (1890), C. L., pp. 126-27. 267 BARNABAS MARY AHERN Revieiv for Religious ing Thyself~" Our Lord fulfilled this request to the letter; for at the hour of death her inward dereliction and outward pain, her burning love and wholehearted surrend'er, made her a living image of the suffering Christ on Calvary. Naturally enough, this devotion to the Holy Face was rich in fruitfulness. Contemplating it, she saw how dearly Christ loves all souls and how much she must labor to awaken men to the pleadings of His Sacred Heart. Thus, in one of her prayers she cries out, "In that disfigured countenance I recognize Thy infinite love, and I am consumed with the desire of loving Thee and of making Thee loved by all mankind." Therefore she was ready to do and to suffer anything if only she might gain souls for the Lord whom she loved so ardently: "At any cost the grain of sand wants to save souls." Time and again she reminded those who shared her devotion that, "like other Veronicas, they must comfort Christ who has already suffered so much. Thus she wrote to Celine who was nursing their father in his long illness: I am sending you a lovely picture of the Holy Face . Let Marie of the Holy Face10 be another Veronica, wiping away all the blood and tears of Jesus, her sole beloved! Lei her win Him souls, especially the souls she loves! Let her boldly face the soldiers, that is to 'say the world, to come to Him.17 +So, tOO, she asked the novices to pray, We desire t~ wipe Thy sweet Face, and to console Thee for the contempt of the wicked . Give to us souls, dear Lord . We thirst for souls !--above all, for the souls of Apostles and Martyrs . . . that through them wd may inflame all poor sinners.with love of Thee! She was supremely confident of her power to realize ~these desires; for the Holy Face. itself was,~her treasure. Our Lord had promised Sister Saint-Pierre that she could use it. as a, priceless coin to obtain all her desires. Relying ~on this promise, Th~r~se prayed, 16 On entering the Convent, Celine received this name which The¯r e"se here an~ici-" pates. However, it was later changed to Sister Genevieve of St. Teresa, although after Celine had become famous for her artistic reproduction of the Holy "Face from the shroud of Turin she became known as Sister Genevieve of the Holy Face. 1~" To Celine (October 22, 1889), C. L., pp. 115-16. 268 , September, 1958 ST. TH~R~SE Eternal Father, since .Thou~h'ast given~me~f0r my inheritance the Adorable Face of Thy Divine Son, I offer that Face to Thee, and I beg Thee, in exchange for this coin of infinite value, to forget the ingratitude of those souls who are consecrated to Thee, and to pardon all poor sinners. She was utterly confident that God would refuse no request when one begged Him, "Look on the face of Thy Christ" (Ps. 83:10). Devotion to the Holy Face, therefore, influenced her whole spiritual life. On entering Carmel she already possessed the virtues of charity, ~zeal, 'and humility;. She Was bully pre-pared to suffer for Christ and to meet each new demand of His love. What her convent life would have been if she had not "discdvered" the Holy Face we do not know. But it is certain that once she penetrated its mysteries of love; once she became Th~r~se of die Holy Face, her" holiness.gained new depth, and new earnestness. It was indeed significant that a picture of the Holy Face 'in the con~,ent corridor inspired her to write the poem which best expressed her spirit,~ "To Live of Love." It was natural, then, that her. hope for heaven found ex-pression in a desire to gaze upon the Holy Face. She prayed to be inflamed with love and to be consumed quickly, "that soon Th~i~se of the Holy Face'may beh'old ~Thy glorious coun-tenance in Heaven." SO, too, when the trials of her father's illness were most acute, she encouraged Celine with the words, "Tomorrow . in an hour, we.Shall: be in harbor, what- happi-ness! Ah! how'good it will be ~b contemplate Jesus face 'to face" for all ete n ty./~he had found, such beauty in the hidden, suffering face of. Christ here upon earth that her soul Was ravished .by the "thought of what she would see in heaven: . Yes, the face ~of Jesus is luminous; but if it is so beautiful .with all its wounds and tears, what shall it be when we see it" in Heaven? Oh, Heaven . . . Heaven! Yes, one day to see the Face of Jesus, to contemplate the marvellous beauty of Jesus eterpally . Ask Jesus that His grain of sand may hasien to save mary souls in little time that it may the sooner fly where His beloved Face is . ~STo Celine (July 14, 1889), C. L., p. 111. 269 BARNABAS MARY AHERN I suffe!! . . . But the hope of the Homeland gives me courage; soon we shall be in Heaven . There, there will be neither day nor night any more, but the Face of Jesus will bathe all in ;a .'light .like no other.19 Thus love for the Holy Face "took a very individual, very profound orientation in her soul." God alone knows all that it meant to her. But we can glimpse a little of this in the beau-tiful prayer that Th~r~se herself composed: O Jesus, Who in Thy cruel Passion didst become the "reproach .of men and the Man of Sorrows," I worship Thy Divine Face. Once it shone with the beauty and sweetness of the Divinity; now for my sake it is become as the face of a "leper." Yet in that disfigured Countenance .I recognize Thy infinite love, and I am consumed with the desire of loving Thee and of making Thee loved by all mankind. The tears that streamed from Thy eyes in such abundance are to me as precious pearls which I delight to gather, that with their infinite worth I may ransom the souls of poor sinners. O Jesus, Whose Face is the sole beauty that ravishes my heart, I may not behold here upon earth the sweetness of Thy glance, nor feel the ineffable tenderness of Thy kiss. Thereto I consent, but I pray Thee to imprint in me Thy divine likeness, and I implore Thee to so inflame me with Thy love, that it may quickly consume me, and that I may soon reach the vision of Thy glorious Face in heaven. Amen. 19To Sister Agnes (1890), C. L., p. 127. SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] St. Francis of Assisi and the Middle East. By Martiniano Roncaglia. The Newman Bookshop, Westminster, Maryland. $1.00 (paper cover). My Dear People. By Venantius Buessing, O.F.M.Cap. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 53 Park Place, New York 7, New York. $5.00. Our Lord and Our Lady. By Alexander P. Schorsch, C.M., and Sister M. Dolores Schorsch, O.S.B. Philosophical Library, Inc., 15 East 40th Street, New York 16, New York. $4.50. Getting to Know the Bible. By Joseph F. X. Cevetello. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Boulevard, Staten'Island 14, New York. $2.50. Spiritual Riches of the Rosary Mysteries. By Charles J. Callan, O.P., and John F. McConnell, M.M. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 53 Park Place, New York 7, New York. $3.95. (Continued on page 278) 270 The Neurotic Religious R~chard P. Vaugh~n, S.J. IN A PREVIOUS ISSUE [March, 19581, we considered the" nature and use of psychotherapy as a means of combating mental and emotional disorders among priests, brothers, and sisters. Experience has shown that psychotherapy is espe-cially applicable to a type of emotional illness known as neu-rosis. Most religious who are in need of psychiatric treatment suffer from this type of illness. The following paragraphs a~ttempt to paint a verbal picture of the neurotic religious and his problems. Almost every order or congregation has a certain number of individuals who can be described in var.i.ous ways, such as "impossible to live with," "just naturally odd," or "a bit strange." These are the religious who stand out as different. For the most part, they give every indication of being troubled. They find it extremely, difficult to integrate themselves into the community. Nervous tension, anxiety, and depression are their frequent companions. Often they suffer from sickness which has no physical basis. They are easily upset. They are full of complaints. Nothing seems to satisfy them. Obedi-ence places an intolerable burden upon them. As a result, they cannot do their share of the order's work. It is as difficult for them to live with themselves as it is for their fellow religious to live with them. If one makes a survey of thehistorical records of almost any order or congregation, he immediately becomes aware of the serious problems these discontented religious present. their younger days they are cons~tantly being changed from one house to another, from one type of work to another. Tracing out the life history of these individuals, one finds that they frequently spend the greater part of their lives collected 271 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN Review for Religious togethe~ in houses where they do the ]east damage or are doled out to the larger houses where they can be absorbed by the size of the community. The amount of productive work whicb, they accomplish during their life span is negligible. From all external appearance, the ~'s.piritual life makes ~almost no impact upon them. Characteristics of Neurotics For the most part, such religious .can be classified as neurotic in various degrees of severity. .,A neurotic is a .person who is beset with anxiety,' tension, ,and !pecUliar !patterns ~of behavior which deviate f~om what ~is coniidered normal He is still, however, in contact ~vi~h the reality of the world in which he lives. In this latter aspect, he differs from the psy-chotic, who has in some way lost contact with reality and lives in a world of his own making, whether this be through the medium of hallucinations or a system of delusions. The neu-rotic religious is very much aware of his own sufferings and the disturbance he is causing within the community by his unusual modes of acting. Often this awareness on the part of the neurotic is the very thing which so provokes his superior and fellow religious, who reason: "He knows what he is doing. Why does he not stop behaving this way? It can only be his ill will that makes him continue." However, an analysis of neurotic behavior is not quite this simple. It is true that the .neurotic knows what he is doing, but he does not know "why" he is acting in this manner. Thus, he might be spending half the night checking every faucet in the cloister to see that no .water is running. He knows that he is making these nightly patrols. He knows that the odds are a hundred to one against~ his finding a running faucet. He also knows that his clumping up and down the halls night after night is keeping his fellow religious awake. Still, he cannot stop himself. He is tense and restless and, ~thus, can-not get any rest until he has performed this ritual. The reason why he is unable to stop himself is simply b~cause he has a 272 September, 1958 THE NEUROTIC .RELIGIOUS neurosis which he cannot cure by himself any more than the tubercular religious can cure his malady without medical treat-meat. Generally speaking, a neurosis manifests itself in not just a single symptom, but in a whole.pattern of symptoms. They affect many different phases of one's life. These are the peculiar aspects of behavior that make the neurotic religious a marked man or woman. In some cases, these symptoms are of such a nature as to cause severe distress within a com-munity. The fears, compulsions, and anxieties of the neurotic severely interfere with the activity of the other members of the community. Even though the neurotic is aware of the incon-venience he is causing others, he still feels that all must cater to his own needs: This feeling is a part ot: his illness. For most neurotics are i, ery self-centered. °However, frequently they do not~-realize this fact; and, if they do, they almost never know what has made them so self-centered. On the .other hand, it often happens that a neurotic religious has symptoms which have little effect on the daily living of the community.~ Others may notice that he is a tense, anxious person who rarely takes an active part in the community life; but they are not aware of the interior suffer-ing that is gradually sapping the neurotic's strength. Two Levels A neurotic operates on two levels, one of which is con-scious and the other, unconscious. On the conscious level are those symptoms that are evident either to the neurotic himself or to those with whom he lives, such as unreasonable fears, uncontrollable thoughts, or imagined physical illness. These are but the manifestations of the neurosis. They are the means that the neurotic uses to defend himself against the real source of his condition, which is usually some ~ype of an unconscious conflict. The conflict i~ called unconscious in so far as the neurotic is unaware of its existence and nature. The conflict usually involves some of the .more basic human needs 273 I~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN Revicw for Religious that we all possess, such as our need for love and affection. Thus, for example, because of deprivation in childhood, the neurotic is frequently looking for a type of affection from others that is equivalent to the love a good parent gives to his small child. Since he usually never gets this type of love and, even if he does get it, it does not satisfy him because he is an adult with adults' desires, he is frustrated and in conflict within himself. Since the neurotic is unaware of what is taking place within himself, he is helpless when left to fight his battle alone. All that he knows is that he is tense and anxious and that he is baffled by the cause of his condition. He is like a man trying to cross swords with an invisible .enemy. He defends himself as best he can, but still he is constantly being-hurt. Often he wishes thai the enemy would deal the mortal blow; but he knows that his is an enemy who delights in slow, pro-longed torture. By trial, and error, the neurotic learns that one way is more satisfactory than another in coping with' this un-seen foe. The manner of defense upon which he finally de-cides depends upon his own personality and the nature of the unconscious conflict. He knows that the best that he can hope for is a transitory lessening of anxiety and a certain minimum of satisfaction and gratification. An Example The dynamics of a neurosis are-well exemplified by the compulsive handwasher whose disorder manifests itself in an uncontrollable urge to wash his hands over and over again. Such a person will tell you that he must continue washing his hands until he gets everythin~ "just right." (When asked, he is not clear what he means by "just right.") This may mean that he has to wash his hands continuously for a half hour or more. .He will go on to tell you that if he stops before he gets that "just right" feeling, he is so uncomfortable that he has-to go back and continue washing ~his hands. Once he has ~ompleted the ritual, he feels relieved for a time. However, 274 Septcmber, 1958 THE NEUROTIC RELIGIOUS gradually he becomes aware ~of a new .source o~ anxiety. He iiads that his periods of washing are ever increasing in time and that this is seriously interfering with his work. This fact causes new anxiety and worry, but still he is unable to stop his ritualistic washing. His inability to stop himself stems from the unconscious nature of his problem. In all probability, his particular prob: lem springs from some unconscious conflict; but the sufferer is unaware of this. He sees no connection between the purify-ing ritual he is forced to perform and his erroneous attitudes and habits setting up the unconscious conflict. Often he is not even aware that he possesses these attitudes and habits. He does not iealize that his handwashing is simply a symbolic way of trying to cleanse himself from a false sense of guilt. As a matter of fact, he is not even aware of the guilt/All that he experiences is an ungovernable urge to wash his hands and the constantly plaguing sensation of anxiety and tension. From all this, it can safely be said that the neurotic suffers a "pain" that can be more excruciating than cancer of the spine. True, his "pain" is different from that of the physically afflicted, but he will tell you that he would much prefer to endure a long bout with some disease to his present condition. Attitude of Fellow Religious One of the most disturbing features of religious life for a neurotic is the attitude of his or-her fellow religious. The majority of religious still seem to cling to the outdated view that mental illne~s, especially of the neurotic variety, indicates some kind of moral turpitude. The neurotic religious is really responsible for his or her condition. The difficult modes of be-havior that he frequently manifests are sinful. If he had made full use of all the spiritual help offered by his order or congregation, he would not be in his present predicament. Moreover, if he were really a spiritual man, he could "sn.ap out" of this condition in a matter of weeks. Thus runs the reasoning of many religious when confronted with the difficult problem of coping with the 275 I~ICHARD P. VAUGHAN Revie'w for Religious neurotic. They still feel that a good Father Confessor and fre-quent reception of Holy Communion can solve any problem. The fact .that in spite of frequent use of the sacraments arid sound spiritual guidance we still have our neurotics with us does not seem to alter their view one iota. The probable source of this erroneous attitude is a woeful lack of psychological knowledge among religious men and women. There is no important sub-ject concerning which religious as a group know less. From this ignorance springs a prejudice toward psychology and psychiatry as means of regaining one's mental health. It is this alcove-mentioned attitude toward mental illness which is so damaging' to the neurotic religious. For among the most p~evalent features of a neurosis are deep feelings of inferi-ority and a lack of self-esteem. The majority of neurotics are convinced that they are useless and bad, even though they may put on a great front of bravado. When this opinionof them-selves is confirmed by the words and actions of their fellow re-ligious, the n~urotic condition becomes deeper. The sufferer is liable to despair, thinking himself simply no good and that noth-ing can be done for him. He then sets out to prove to the community that he is useless, and his mode of behavior becomes. even more disturbing than ever. A further outcome of this erroneous conception of mental illness is that it frequently prevents the neurotic religious from seeking psychiatric help. Since he is hopelessly bad, why waste the community's money and the therapist's .time on treatment-- thus he reasons. If he finds enough courage to submit, to therapy,, he becomes very aware of the feelings of others in regard to himself. He fears the stigmatization that will fall upon him by the very fact that he visits a psychiatrist. He dreads the quips that will be made about his condition. And he is e.qually terrified by the prospect of facing those knowing and condescending looks of his fellow religious, once the diagnosis of his disorder has been made public. 276 September, 1958 THE NEUROTIC RELIGIOUS Responsibility and Sanctity Mental illness is a medical problem just as any other type of sickness. The neurotic religious is no more responsible for his affliction than is the religious who is physically diseased. He did not willfully set up the unconscious conflict, "and he has very little control over the symptoms that result from the conflict, A combination 0f inherited personality, 'parental influences, and other environmental factors have militated against him to produce his present condition. Still,. the religious who has contracted a cancer.of the lung or heart disease, possibly ~is a result of exces-sive smoking, 'is treated with the utmost sympathy and charity, while the neurotic is ~frequently looked upon as a second-rate religious who has put himself in his predicament and is treated accordingly.°. '-The neurotic religious who is willing ~to accept help has no less an-opportunity to sanctify his soul than~ ~he religious who is suffering from a purely physical disorderl Psychological studies of the lives of the saints are beginning to reveal rfeurotic symptoms among these supremely successful men and women. In spite of these symptoms, they attained the heights of sanctity. Thus, it seems that neurosis, as sdch, does not exclude the pos, sibility of spiritual perfection. Howe~er, because of the dis-rupting nature of neurotic symptoms, it can safely, be said that the i~ttainment o~ perfection is more di~ fi!t .under th~se c0n-ditions and, in very severe, cases .of neurosis, is. pr?bably im-possible. For we cannot get away from th.e fact that the super-natural is built upon the natural, o When there is complete disorder in the foundation, then no edifice can be built upon it. Care of Neurotics It is the need of this natural foundation for the spiritual life that makes e~cient screening of candi~lates to the religious state so necessary. For the candidate who. is so neurotic that he cannot profit from the spiritual training of his chosen order or congregation has no vocation. This need of the sound 277 RICHARD P. VAU(;HAN natural foundation for the spiritual life also makes it impera- .tive~ that neurotic religious be given every opportunity to rid. them.se.lves.of their disorder. As has been stated, a neurotic usua.lly~cannot cure himself when left to fight the battle alone. Moreover, a good confessor is usually not equipped to help the neurotic overcome his condition.° Purely spiritual direction does not strike at the unconscious. Hence, some other source of help must ib~e.sought. As was stated in the beginning of this article, the method of treatment which ha~ been the most practica! and effective with. neurotics is called psychotherapy. This effectiveness ap-plies to the religious as well as the lay person. Psychotherapy with neurotics consists of "working through" the" unconscious con-flict with the patient through the medium of a long series of interviews. By the use of various techniques, the neurotic comes to understand and experience on an affective level the root of his disorder. With the successful outcome of therapy, the symptoms disappear because the neurotic no longer has a need for them. He is thus relieved of those hindrances which have hand!capped.him in moving ahead in the spiritual/ire and is able to become a useful member of the community, Conclusion The neurotic priest, brother, or sister is not a second-rate religious, but rather a sick religious. He or she is in need of charity, care, and consideration. With adequate help and encouragement, he can rid himself of his affliction and become a hol~ and productive religious. Some Books Received (Continued from page 270) Awakeners of Souls. By F. X. Ronsin, S.J. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Boulevard, Staten Island 14, New York. $3.00. Catechism in Pictures. The Life of Christ. The Commandments oft God. Know Your Mass. Catechetical Guild Educational Society, 260 Summit Avenue, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. 35c each (paper cover). (Continued on page 289) 278 The : eneral Chap!:er Joseph I:. 6allen, S.J. QUESTIONS AND CASES are frequently received on the general chapter. A complete .article on. this matter would be of prohibitive length. It would also be excessively de-tailed and technical. We believe that the practical purpose of such an article will be better attained by presenting the matter under the form of questions and cases. The following ques-tions are the second part.of a series. V. Voting 17. Our constitutions state: "Not only the superior g~neral but also the general councilors, secretary general, and treasurer general remain members of the general chapter with a decisive vote, even if perhaps in the elections in chapter they have gone out of office." What is the mean-ing of a decisive vote in a chapter? In a council, a deliberative or decisive vote is opposed to a merely consultive vote, i. e., in the former, a superior must have the. consent, or absolute majority, of his council for the validity of the act for which, the deliberative vote is required; in the latter, he is obliged merely to consult his council but not to follow the opinion of the council, even if this. is unani-mous. The superior is to consider seriously the consultive vote of his council, especially if it is unanimous; and he should not depart from a unanimous vote unless he has a reason that prevails over the vote. The superior is judge of the existence and worth of such a prevailing reason. In the chapters of your institute, there is no such distinction of votes. -The sense of your constitutions is simply that the general 'officials do not lose their vote in the chapter 'because of the fact that they no longer hold the general offices after the,ele~tions. Thereforei the adjective "decisive" should-not be in ~he constitutions. The only thing that can be called a decisive vote in your chapter 'is the right of the president to break a tie on the third balloting JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religion, s (c.101, § 1, 1°). Constitutions of lay institutes most rarely give this right to the president in elections. Such a tie is broken by seniority of first profession, but if the religious made their first profession on the same day, by seniority of age. 18. What is the process for obtaining the':vote of a capitular who is sick but in the house where the election is being held? Canon 163 prescribes the physical' presence of the electors £t the election as requisite for a valid vote and excludes as invalid, unless this is permitted .by the constitutions or customs, a vote by letter or proxy. Outside of a most rare and limited exception, the constitutions of lay institutes exclude voting by letter or proxy. Almost universally they admit only the one excep-tion from physical presence given in canon law itself (c. 168), which is as follows. "If an elector is present in the house of the election but. cannot come to the place of election because of weak health, his written vote is to be collected by the tellers, unless ,the particular laws or legitimate customs determine other- :e~dH ~rU::_ ~n::n; r otph:r t ;?t,'r,~ h eP ~Tr:t,y t l~:dcabs:" lids'nvg:t , ri if the elector is confined to the infirmary and the election is being held in .,another building of the same religious house. No reason other than weak health suffices, e. g., if an elector cannot be present in the chapter room because he is ~ccupied with most serious business of the congregation. It is not re-quired that the infirm elector be confined to bed. If the elector car,: write, he. is to write out his vote secretly. If he cannot write, he may express his vote orally or by anyother external Sign to the tellers; and the latter may write outthe vote for the sick or infirm elector. This method is permitted by the code and may be employed unless it is certainly excluded by the constitutions. Many constitutions of lay institutes demand that the" infirm elector be able to write. The tellers are to obtain the vote of such an elector on every ballot. If too great delay would be caused by going to another building for the vote, the chapter would not be obliged to do so. Both tellers, 280 September, 1958 THz GENERAL CHAPTER not the president nor the secretary, are to collect the vote. Canon law does not specify the manner in which the tellers are to carry back the folded vote, and consequently one of them may carry it back in his hand. However, the constitutions or customs frequently specify that it is to be carried back in a closed ballot-box, and some constitutions state that a ballot-box is to be reserved for this case. If there is only one ballot-box, the vote of the infirm elector is to be secured before those of the assembled capitulars, since the votes of the latter should never be taken from the chapter room. A very simple method, found also in some constitutions, is to carry the vote back in a sealed envelope. The envelope is immediately opened, and the folded vote of the infirm elector is mixed with the votes of the others. 19. Since two priests are the tellers, how is the vote of a sick nun to be collected? Two priests are the tellers in the election of a superioress of a monastery (c. 506, § 2) and also of a mother general or re-gional mother of a federation of nuns. Canon 506, § 2, forbids these priests to enter the papal cloister of the nuns. The constitutions more frequently make provisions for the present case by enacting that two of the capitulars are,to be designated by the president as tellers .for the vote of a sick nun. If there is no provision in the constitutions for a monastery election, it is probable that the two priest tellers may enter the cloister to secure the vote of. a sick nun; but the far more appropriate and simple method is for the president to appoint two of the nun .capitulars as tellers for this case. In the election of a mother general or regional mother of a federation, there are two assistant nun tellers, who will also take care of the vote of a sick nun. 20. Immediately before a general chapter, one of the capitulars broke his right arm. He attended the chapter. How could he have voted? The code commands that the votes be secret but not that they be written by all the electors, although the prescription 281 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious of burning the votes (c. 171, § 4) supposes that a written vote is the ordinary practice. It is su~cient that the vote be cast by any certain and determined external sign. It is very possible that an elector would not be able to write, as in the present case. Such an elector is not to be deprived of his vote. He should communicate his vote orally to the president and tellers. One of these writes out the vote, shows it to the elector for approval, and then folds and drops the vote in the ballot-box or gives it to the elector to be cast in the prescribed order. This" capitular-may be told to cored up to the president and tellers before or after the others have cast their votes. 21. Our constitutions say: "After all the ballots have been cast, the two tellers shall open the urn, count the ballots before the president, and see whether they correspond with the number of sister electors. If the number corresponds, they shall open the ballots, showin~g them to the president and reading them audibly in the presence of all. If the number of ballots exceeds the number of electors, another vote shall be taken." What is to be done if the number of ballots is less than, the number of electors? By canon law (c. 171, § 3), a balloting is invalid only if the number of ballots exceeds the number of electors. Such a balloting is considered as not having been made a~ all, e. g., if the excess occurs on the first balloting, the next is counted not as the second but as the first balloting. If the votes equal or are less "than the number of electors, the balloting is valid. The latter case means merely that one or somd did not cast a vote in this balloting. This is the norm of your constitutions. Before the Code ofCanon Law, May 19, 1918, the number of votes had to equal the number of electors.~ The balloting was. consequently invalid whe.n "~the number if votes was greater or less than the 'number of electorL l~iany lay institutes still retain. ~his "pre.scriptign in their, constitutions. It 'is td be "'" observ.e.d~ si~e ik is'. not c~ntrary to .but over and: abbve the --cody: i~. 489). It ~ouid-be better to change this prescription to. the::law ~f the code in any revision 6f the constitutions. Cf. ¯ Maro~o, Institufiones .Iuris Canonici, I, n. 635; Coronata, In-~ 282 September, 1958 THE ~ENERAL CHAPTER stitutiones Iuris Canonici, I, ,+n. 236; Parsons, Canonical Elec-tions, 151 ; Lewis, Chapters in Religious Institutes, 115. 22. Our constitutions command that the ballots be burned in the presence of the electors. It is most difficult to do this. May they be burned elsewhere? Canon.171, § 4, enacts that the ballots are to be burned after each balloting or at the end of the session, if there were several ballotings in the same session. It is not sufficient to tear up the ba[lots; they must be burned. Constitutions that command the burning of the ballots after each balloting or in the presence of the electors are not contrary to but over and above the code. However, it would at least very frequently be highly inconvenient, annoying, and even dangerous to burn the ballots in the room where the elections are held. There would therefore p~ractically always be a sufficient reason for burning them elsewhere and in the presence only of the tellers. The loss of time would also be/a .sufficient excuse for burning the votes only after th~ session./Constitutions that assign the burning of the ballots to the secretary must be followed, since they are not clearly contrary to the code. However, the burn-ing is commanded to protect the. secrecy of the votes. Since the tellers have charge of the votes and take the oath of secrecy, it is evidently at least preferable that the burning be done by the tellers. 23. Our constitutions declare: "The delegates shall abstain from either directly or indirectly procuring votes for themselves or for others." Is this the complete canon? No. Canon 507, § 2, extends the prohibition of procuring votes, or electioneering, to all members of an institute, whether electors or not, and with regard to all chapters. 24. If ! sincerely believe that a particular brother is the one most competent for the office of brother general, why cannot I persuade other capitulars to vote for l~im? All the members of an institute, whether electors or not, are forbidden to seek votes to. elect a particular person, or one JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review fo,r Religious rather than another, or to exclude anyone from being elected at any chapter whatsoever. It is forbidden to do so directly, i. e., to seek the votes openly and clearly, or indirectly, i. e., to seek votes in a secret, disguised, or mediate fashion, e.g., by artifices, insinuations, favors, services, 'or promises (c. 507, § 2). It is certainly forbidden to procure votes for oneself (c. 170); for an evil end, e. g., to elect an unworthy or less worthy person, by an evil means, e. g., fraud, lies, threats, violence, insistent plead-ings, pacts, agreements, commands of superidrs;, or by any means that restricts the liberty of the electors. Merely to counsel another to vote or. not to vote for someone is not a restriction of the liberty of an elector, but it would be better to abstain also from this. Some authors hold with probability that the canon does not forbid procuring votes for another provided the end and the means are licit in themselves, e. g., to induce another by sound reasons and from honest motives to v6te for the best qualified, for a better rather than a less qualified p~rson, or for a qualified rather than an unqualified person. The more com-mon opinion is that this procuring also is forbidden, because the wording of the canon is absolute. This latter opinion should also be. followed in prudence, since any procuring of votes is apt /~o cause factions, create parties'determined on their candi-date, produce bad feeling, and disturb the peace and sanctity of the religious life. 'The procuring of votes"does not invalidate a vote or' an election. 25." In our congregation of sisters; may we nominate determined sisters for the various offices before the actual voting for the offices in question? ¯ This may not be done unless it is positively permitted by the particular law of the institute. The Sacred Congregation of Religious does not approve in congregations the proposal or nomination.of determined candidates, and such a practice is almost never found in the constitutions of lay congregations. 284 September, 1958 THE {~ENERAL" CHAPTER This practice at least tends to restrict the.liberty of the electors (Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 263). Nomination is found in various forms in some monasteries of nuns, e. g., the newly elected superioress proposes the name for the office of assistant or for all members of the council; three religious are nominated for superioress by the vote of the council, but the electors are free to vote for others; and, in a similar method in at least one federation, a list for the office of regional mother is formed from the previous and secret proposal of three names by each capitular, supplemented by names that the council feels obliged to add. Other religious may be voted for in this last system; but, if elected, they must be confirmed by the mother general and her council. 26. I was a capitular in the general chapter of our congregation of brothers. Before the chapter, I told three brothers the name of the one I intended to vote for,as brother general. I did vote for him, and he was elected. Was my vote invalid because of a lack of secrecy (c. 169, § 1, 2°)? An invalidating lack of secrecy occurs only when a vote is manifested in the very act of voting or at least before the particular balloting is completed and to the greater part of the chapter. Especially when a method of voting such as beans is used, care is to be exercised that the beans are taken and placed in the urn in such a way that others cannot see how the elector is voting. If a vote is invalidated, by a lack of secrecy, the elector may cast another secret vote. Prudence at least gen-erally °forbids an elector to reveal his vote either before or after an election. Neither revelation is certainly forbidden by canon law, but both are prohibited by the law of some con-stitutions. Such a revelation evidently does not invalidate the vote. 27. Is it possible for a member of a lay institute to have been de-prived of active voice? Active voice is the right to vote in a chapter; passive voice is the right to be elected in a chapter. Privation of active voice 285 JOSEPH F. GALLEN l~evicw for Religious occurs when the right to vote is taken away. This can happen by a legitimate sentence of a judge or by the enactment of canon law or the law of the particular institute (c. 167, § 1, 5°). Canon law deprives exclaustrated religious during the time of the exclaustration (c. 639) and apostates from religion, even after their return and after the absolution from the excommuni-cation (c. 2385), of active voice. Active voice is regained by the latter if the penalties of prohibition of legitimate ecclesiastical acts and the privation of active and passive voice have been dispensed. A privation of either right is found only most rarely in the constitutions of lay institutes, e. g., a privation of active and passive voice for voting for oneself or if proven to have canvassed for votes and of active voice if convicted of having violated chapter secrecy. 28. May a presiding superior general reject a proposal to the general chapter merely on his own authority or after consulting his council either before or during the chapter? It is possible that your constitutions give this authority to the superior general before the opening of the chapter. How-ever, this is found most rarely and never after the chapter ~is in session. It ts'to be remembered that the chapter is the supreme authority within the institute. The superior general, even though he presides, is merely a member of the chapter. He does not act as superior in the chapter. Evidently he is to be given the customary respect and reverence, and his proposals and comments merit greater attention and consideration. He should submit all proposals to the chapter committee or com-mittees on proposals. This does not prevent a committee from stating that a proposal should be rejected or referred to the superior general as a matter of ordinary government. To the degree that a committee fails to do this, the chapter, fatigued, frustrated, and irritated by extraneous details, will be rendered less efficient and less effective. When a committee has made its report, the chapter, not the superior general alone, is the judge as to whether a proposal should be accepted oro rejected. 286 Septe~nber, 1958 THE GENERAL CHAPTER VI. Qualities for Election, Etc. 29. Our constitutions affirm: "For secretary, one of the councilors may be elected (provided she be not the first). It is even advisable to elect a councilor to this office, otherwise the secretary would have no voice in the council." If it is so necessary for the secretary to have a vote in the council, why isn't it of obligation to elect one of the coun. cilors as secretary? There is no necessity whatever that the secretary, general or provincial, should be also a general or provincial councilor. She attends all meetings as a confidential secretary and is bound by the obligation of official secrecy. A confidential secretary devoid of any authokity or part in government is certainly noth-ing unusual either in ecclesiastical or secular life. It would frequerttly be very inefficient to elect a councilor as secretary, simply because none of the councilors would have the training or experience for such a position. The councilors are also often somewhat advanced in years; and this is not an asset for the work of a secretary, even in the background of sufficient traifiing and experience. 30. The constitutions of our diocesan congregation state: In regard to the election of the mother general in particular, they must observe the following points: No sister is eligible to this office who is not at least forty years old and ten years professed; only in case of neces-sity is it allowed to elect one who is but thirty-five years old and eight years professed." A priest who'gave us a retreat stated that he c~uld not see how our constitutions agreed with canon law. Was he right? The priest was evidently right. Canon 504 demands legitimacy, at least ten full years of profession in the same institute from the date of first profession, and forty complete years of" age for th~ valid election of a mother general. Your constitutions omit all mention of legitimacy and require only thirty-five years of age and eight years of profession in a case of necessity. Such a necessity would constitute a sufficient reason for asking for a dispensation from the Holy See but would not excuse your institute from the law of the code. The only justification you could have for'the omission of legitimacy and for the norms of thirty-fi.ve years of age and eight years 287 JOSEPH f. GALLEN Review for Religious of profession would be a privilege granted to your institute by the Holy See, which is so unlikely as to be negligible. The only privileges ordinarily encountered in lay congregations are par-ticular indulgences and Masses, and even these are found most infrequently. If you have no such privilege and elect as mother general a sister who lacks any of the three requisites of canon 504, the election will be invalid. The whole wording of your law reveals clearly that it is a norm occasionally permitted by the Holy See in approving constitutions before 1901. This is a probable indication but not a certain proof that your con-stitutions were never conformed to the Code of Canon Law. If this is true, they should be so conformed as soon as possible. Cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 7-1926-248, note 244; Battandier, Guide Canonique, nn. 373-74; Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 466; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in the Code, n. 65, 2. 31. Two articles of our constitutions read: 1. "The superioress gen-eral must be at least forty years of ag-- and must have pronounced her first vows at least ten years before her election." 2. "In order to appoint a sister as provincial superior, she must be at least thirty. five years old and in perpetual vows." Are these two articles complete and accurate? No. Canon 504 demands three personal qualities for the valid election or appointment of any higher superior .of religious men or women, legitimacy, profession for at least ten complete years in the same institute computed from first profession, and forty complete years of age for a superior general and the superioress of a monastery of nuns but thirty complete years of age for other higher superiors, e. g., provincials. Therefore, age is the only varying element in these three qualities. Both of your articles omit legitimacy. This omission may be caused by delicacy but it could be costly, since legitimacy is required for a valid election or appointment. Both articles also omit the prescription that the ten years of profession must be in the same institute, e. g., years of profession spent in another in-stitute before a transfer may not be computed as part of the 288 September, 1958 THE GENERAL CHAPTER required ten years. The second article adds five years, to the canonical age demanded for a provincial, which is permitted and is customary. It is not sufficient, however, that a provincial be merely of perpetual vows. Perpetual profession is made, at the earliest, three and, at the latest, six years after the first temporary profession; but ten full years of profession are demanded by canon law. 32. Our constitutions state that only a sister "born in holy wedlock" is eligible as mother general. Is this accurate? The sense of canon 504 in this respect is evident, i. e, the religious must be legitimate. From the accepted interpreta-tion, it is sufficient that the religious be either legitimate or legitimated. The canon is usually translated as "born of legiti-mate marriage," which is a literal translation, or "of legitimate birth." The second appears to be preferable. The difficulty is caused by the wording of the canon itself. Instead of simply saying "legitimate," the canon reads "born of a legitimate marriage." The translation "holy wedlock" is not a literal translation and is susceptible of the meaning that legitimacy demands conception or birth from a sacramental marriage, i. e., the valid marriageof two baptized persons. A marriage of two unbaptized is certainly not a sacrament; and there is not too much probability, if any, that it is a sacrament in the baptized party in a marriage between baptized and unbaptized persons. A child conceived or born of either of these two types of non-sacramental marriages .would be legitimate, e. g., a girl born of the valid marriage of two Jewish parents, who was later converted and enteied religion, would not be illegitimate. Some Books Received (Continued from page 278) The Catholic Booklist 1958. Edited by Sister Mary Luella, O.P. Rosary College, River Forest, Illinois. $1.00 (paper cover). The Patron Saints. By John Immerso. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Boulevard, Staten Island 1~, New York. 35c (paper cover). 289 Survey oJ: Roman Document:s R. F. Smit:h, S.J. [The following pages will pro.vide a survey of the documents which ap-peared in the .4eta /lpostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of April and May, 1958. Throughout the survey all page references will be to the 1958 AAS (v. 50).] The Easter Message IN BEGINNING his Easter broadcast to the world, which he delivered on April 6, 1958 (AAS, pp. 261-64), the Holy Father noted that Easter has always been regarded in the Church as a feast of light; for by the Resurrection of Christ the human race was freed from the darkness of error and sin. In the first creation, the Pontiff continued, light is~presented as the source of all beauty and order in the world; so too in the Re-demption, which may be properly called a new creation, the light of Christ is the primary and indispensable element of the new order; for .no one can attain perfection except ~through Christ and in Christ. If today error, skepticism, deceit, hatred, war, crime, and injustice still continue to exist, it is because modern man has separated himself from the vivifying light of Christ. Nor need it be feared, said the Holy Father, that Christ will halt human progress; like man, God is not satisfied by the mere existence of the world; rather He wishes to see in it a continual progression toward the fullness of truth, of justice, and of peace. Since the light of Christ has been entrusted to the Church, the Vicar of Christ concluded, each member of the Church must see to it that his light shines before men through the good works he performs. And of all possible good. works, the one most needed today is a constant and unceasing effort toward the establishment of a .just peace. After the message inspired by Christ's Resurrection from the dead, it is fitting to place the allocution which His Holiness 290 I~.OM AN DOCUMENTS delivered on March 30i 1958 (AAS, pp. 265-67), to tl~e families of Italian so'ldiers who were killed or lost in war. The Pontiff observed that in such situations the lot of those who are without the faith is tragic; for them the dead are. gone forever, mingled inextricably with the dust of the battleground where they fell. But those with the faith, though their hearts are still sorrowful, find consolation in the divine promise of an immortal life. They know that the souls of the departed are in heaven or in purgatory. In the first case, the dead can assist the living in a way grea.ter than if they were still alive; while in the second case those who are living can still provide their departed with efficacious help. Even those who have disappeared in the war are not com- ,pletely vanished for those who have the faith; they know that 'those who are lost still remain under the eye of an all-loving and all-powerful God with whom they can intercede for the welfare of/.the loved ones who have never returned. In con-clusion ;the Pope emphasized that between his listeners and their loved ones there exists an indestructible union, that of the communion of saints. For Priests, Seminarians, and Religious ~On October 27, 1957 (AAS, pp. 292-96), the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities issued a letter to all ~local ordinaries concerning the fostering of the Latin language among priests and seminarians. The knowledge of Latin, the letter pointed out, is proper to a priest, for this is the language he will use in performing those sacred duties in which he is the representative of Christ. Nevertheless, there is considerable evidence that the knowledge of Latin among priests is decreasing notably. For this reason the Sacred Congregation has seen fit to issue a booklet wherein are gathered together all the pro-nouncements of recent popes on the matter of Latin and the priest. (In a footnote to the letter th~ titles of two booklets sent to local Ordinaries are given: Summorum Pontificum cum 291 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious de humanioribus litteris tum praesertim de Latina lingua docu-menta praecipua and II Latino lingua viva nella Chiesa.) The letter then proposed various practical remedies for meeting the situation, the first and most important of which is to see that the teachers of Latin in seminaries are carefull}; selected and well trained. Secondly, seminarians should begin their study of Latin from the very start of their training and their reading should include not only classical authors but also Latin authors of other times; in this way they will be able to see that Latin is not a dead language but that under the pro-tection of the Church it has always been an instrument ot: human wisdom and culture. Thirdly, all seminarians should be given ample time for the cultivation of their knowledge of Latin. 'On April 11, 1958 (AAS, pp. 282-86), the Holy Father addressed the members of the Congress of Studies on East-ern Monasticism, remarking that monasticism flowered after the end of the persecutions, since generous souls desired this ~ orm .of perfection as a sort ot: voluntary martyrdom destined to replace the martyrdom of blood. He also noted that the religious state of perfection in all its essential elements, came into being in the East, so that "eastern monasticism is at the origin of all Christian religious life and its influence is felt even today in all the great religious orders. The spirituality of the desert, he continued, that form of the contemplative spirit which seeks God in silence and in abnegation, is a pro-found movement of the spirit which never ceases in the Church. The Pontiff concluded by urging his listeners to pursue their studies ofeastern monasticism so that from day to day the origi.ns and principal characteristics of that monasticism become better known. Under the date of April 3, 1958 (AAS, pp. 312-18), His Holiness sent a letter to the religious of Portugal who had con-vened in Lisbon for a congress concerning the states of per-fection. In the beginning of his letter the' Holy Father 292 September, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS reviewed the history of ~P0rtugal, showing how the history of that country could not be written without including the work of religious throughout that history. He also remarked that where the religious state is lacking, Christian life can only rarely achieve that perfection that should be a characteristic note of the Mystical Body of Christ on this earth; accordingly, the religious state, radiant and splendid with the practice of virtue, is an essential element in the Christian development of each diocese. The Vicar of Christ then turned to a consideration of the problems of adapting older forms of religious life to modern conditions. Such adaptation will be possible only if every religious, novice as well as professed, knows the dis-tinguishing marks of his own institute; moreover, religious must be trained to distinguish between what is necessary and unchangeable in their institute and what has been added in the course of time and should be adapted to changed condi-tions. However, he pointed out, these latter elements should not be discarded simply because they are old but only to the extent that they hinder or prevent greater good. The Pontiff urged his listenersto work univaveringly for an increase in religious vocations in Portugal. He concluded his letter by reminding the recipients that contemporary life requires religious who are eminent by reason of piety, virtue, and learning and by urging them to do once more what the religious of Portugal have done so eminently in the past: to bring the light of the gospel to many peoples of the world. Moral Problems in Psychology On April 10, 1958 (AAS, pp. 268-82), the Roman Pontiff spoke to the members of 'the Thirteenth Congress of the International Society for Applied Psychology. In the first part of the allocution, the Pontiff defined personality as the psychosomatic unity of man in so far as it is determined and governed by the soul. After. elucidating each part of this definition, he went on to delineate the most important traits 293 R. F. SMITH Review for Religion,s of personality from the moral and religious viewpoint. The firs: of these characteristics is that the entire man is the work 6f the Creator; by .creation man is similar to God, and in Christ he has received divine sonship.~ These, he remarked, are data that psychology cannot neglect; for they are realities, not imaginary fictions, guaranteed as they are by the infinite mind of God. The second characteristic of human personality is that man has the possibility and the obligation of perfecting his nature according to the divine plan, while the third characteristic noted by His Holiness was that man is a responsible being, capable of shaping his conduct according to moral rules. Finally, in order to understand human personality it must be remembered that at the moment of death the human soul remains fixed in the dispositions acquired during life. The psychologist must remember this, since he is dealing with acts which contribute to the final elaboration oi: the personality. In the second part of his discourse, the Pope took up the morality of various techniques of testing and investigating psychological matters. The aim of psychology, which is" the scientific study of human attitudes and the healing of psychic sickness, is praiseworthy, he asserted; nevertheless, it cannot be said that the means adopted are always justified. Morality teaches that the exigencies of science do not justify any and all techniques and methods; these latter must be submitted to the moral norms of right action. The Pope then considered the rights of the subject who undergoes psychological treatment or experimentation. The contents of the subject's psyche, he noted, belong to the subject. It is true that by the way he acts and comports himself he already reveals some part of his psyche and these data the psychologist can use without any violation of the rights of the subject. But there is another part of the psyche which a person wishes to preserve from the knowledge of others; likewise, there are psychic regions which the subject himself is unaware 294 September, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS of; into. such intimate regions of the psyche no one may pene-trate against the will of the subject. If, however, the subject freely gives his consent, the psychologist may in the majority of cases enter into the recesses of the subject's psyche without violating any moral law. It must, however, be remembered that the subject does not have unlimited power to grant access to his innermost psyche. The subject, for example, cannot grant .access when that access would involve the violation of the rights of a third party or the ruining of an individual or collective reputation. Nor does it suffice in such cases to say that the psychologist and h~is assistants will be bound to keep such things secre_t; for there are some matters (for example, the secret of confession) that can never be revealed. The Vicar of Christ then asks what is to be thought of a person who out of a spirit of heroic altruism offers himself for any and every type of psychological experimentation and investigation. His Holiness replied to this question by saying that since the moral value of a human action depends primarily on its object, heroic altruism can never justify psychological procedures that are morally evil by reason of their object; if, however, the object is gcJod or indifferent, then such heroism will increase the moral worth of the action. The Holy Father then turned to consider whether the general interest and public ~authority could permit the psycho-logist to° employ any and all methods of probing the humar~ psyche. He replied that the f~lct that immoral procedures are. imposed by public authority does not make such procedures licit. As for the question whether the state can impose psycho: logical tests and examinations on individuals, the Holy Fa'ther referred to his allocutions of September 43¢1952, and of Sep-tember 30, !954.; moreover, .he~ pointed out that, with regard to the impo.s.ition of such tests on ,children.: ando,minors,, the .s.tate must also take account of. the rights of,th0se who .have more immediate authority over the education-.of children, that is, the family, and the Church. 295 R. F. SM~H Review for Religious The third and concluding section of the allocution was devoted by the Pontiff to a consideration of some basic moral principles. In developing this section the Holy Father remarked that there are three types of immoral action. The first type. consists of those actions the constitutive elements of which are irreconcilable with moral order; such action, it is clear, may never be licitly performed. Hence, since it is part of the moral order that man should not be subject to his inferior instincts, any tests or techniques of investigation in psychology that involve such submission are immoral and must not be employed. The second type of immoral action includes those actions which are immoral not because of any of their constitutive elements, but because the person acting has no right to such action. Thus, for example, it is immoral to penetrate into the consciousness of anyone, unless the subject gives the investi-gator the right to do so. The third type of immoral action includes those actions which arouse moral danger without, a proportionate justifying cause. Psychologists, then, may not use methods and techniques of investigation that arouse moral dangers unless the reasons for utilizing such methods are proportionate to the dangers involved. The Pontiff then concluded his allocution by expressing the hope that his listeners would continue their efforts to penetrate further into the complexities of the human personality, thereby aiding men to remedy their defects and to respond more faithfully to the sublime designs which God has for each individual. Five Addresses to Groups of Italians The first of these addresses was delivered by the Holy Father on March 9, 1958 (AAS, pp. 205-12), to thirty thousand Neapolitan workers massed in the piazza in front of St. Peter's in Rome. He pointed out to the workers that a large number of the people of their region were living in subhuman con- 296 Septe~n bet, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS ditions, stressing especially the lack of adequate housing in that region and the prevalence there of unemployment. In spite of this, h~wever, he noted that the southern part of Italy has always resisted the false promises of atheistic materialism, thus proving at once the solid foundation of their religious attitudes and their innate sense and appreciation of the spiritual values of life. He urged his listeners to press on with the economic betterment of the south of Italy, but also warned them that such improvements would be of little value unless they were accompanied by a parallel spiritual and moral growth. History, he. asserted, shows that material prosperity, unless guided by human wisdom and by religion, is often the first step toward decadence. Ten days later on March 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 212-16), the Pontiff addressed an even more imposing audience, this one consisting of 100,000 young Italians, members of Catholic Action. He told his listeners that their presence in the pia~zza of St. Peter's was irrefutable proof of the indestruct-ible and dynami~ vitality of the Church. Then he urged his listeners to reflect on the springtime of history that God is preparing for the world and for the Church. Certainly, he said, the world has just passed through a terrible period of history, but a Christian knows that God will always draw good from evil. The material life of mankind, he noted, though not without its miseries, is steadily climbing higher. Intel-lectually, too, there is constant growth; automation gives promise of releasing men for the pursuit of intellectual matters; while technical progress is permitting the wider and easier diffusion of human culture. In social matters, finally, the same note of progress can be seen. Now for the first time since the birth of Christ, men are conscious not only of their interdependence but also of their stupendous unity, thereby becoming more and more prepared to see themselves as the Mystical Body of Christ. In spite, therefore, of the storms and winds that still exist, it can safely be thought that the long hard winter of history is 297 Review for Religious now drawing to a close and that there is beginning a spring-time that is prelude to an age which will be one of the richest and most luminous in mankind's history. On March 23, 1958 (AAS, pp. 216-20), the Holy Father addressed a group of Romans whose native place was the Province of Picena. He told them to be proud of their regional traditions and characteristics, but also reminded them that they should love their entire country for Italy has con-tributed munificently to the patrimony of the world and she, more than any other country, is closely linked with the work of Christ. Love of country, however, can itself degenerate into a dangerous and exaggerated nationalism. Hence, he advised his listeners to open their vision to the entire world by becoming intensely aware of that supreme reality which is the Church. Italian agricultural workers composed the audience before whom 'Hi~ Holiness spoke on April 16, 1958 (AAS, pp. 287- 91). "Pointing out to them that each Christian has his own place in the Mystical Body of Christ, he recommended that each of his listeners strive to perform his function in that Body perfectly, sit~ce Christians can be assured that any type of life, if it is lived as it should be, is equivalent to the perfect accom-plishment of a sacred duty and is an act of authentic service and love of God. The last of the five addresses to Italians was given by radio message on April 24, 1958 (AAS, pp. 326-30), to the inhabi-tants of the island of Sardinia. The Holy Father congratulated the Sardinians on the increase of material prosperity which they have achieved since the war, warning them, however, that they must not seek to "modernize" spiritual values on the mistaken grounds that Christian ideals of action are now outmoded. He concluded his message by exhorting them to do all in their po,~er to achieve a perfect social order on their island. Miscellaneous Matters On April 26, 1958 (AAS, pp. 318-22), the Holy Father addressed the participants in the Fourth Congress of the Italian 298 September, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Federation of Women's Sodalities of Our Lady. Recommend-ing that they take Mary as the model of their life and action, he showed them how Mary can teach them to act for the Church. The Blessed Virgin, he said, was present at the beginning of the Church on Pentecost and since then she has never ceased to watch over that Church. A good sodalist must imitate Mary in this and become convinced .that Christian perfection cannot be achieved without preoccupation with the needs of others. Finally, the Pontiff encouraged his listeners to make a careful study of the doctrine of the Mystical Body, since men today are ready to listen to a teaching which considers all humanity as but a single body with a single heart and a single soul. On April 13, 1958 (AAS, pp. 286-87), the Pope ad-dressed a group of delegates from French Africa, praising their efforts for the industrial development of Africa. He stressed the urgency of the economic develolSment of Africa on the grounds that in the modern world underdeveloped countries cannot enjoy complete freedom. Four documents published in AAS during the period under survey were concerned with the beatification of Teresa of Jesus Jornet y Ibars (1843-97), virgin, foundress of the Congregation of the Little Sisters of the Helpless Aged. Or~ January 7, 1958 (AAS, pp. 230-32), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the two miracles needed for her beatification; later, on March 28, 1958 (AAS, pp. 332-33), the same con-gregation affirmed that it was safe to proceed with the beati-fication. Accordingly, on April 27, 1958 (AAS, pp. 306-9), the Holy Father issued an apostolic letter proclaiming her beatifica-tion; and the next day (AAS, pp. 322-25) he delivered an allocution on the new Blessed to those who attended the beati-fication ceremonies. In the allocution he stressed three char-acteristics of her life: her tender devotion to the Blessed Virgin which she drew from her association with the Carmelites; her charity for 6thers, especially for the poor, which was of Fran- 299 R. F. SMITH ciscan inspiration; and her simple and tranquil abandonment to the will of God, which she learned from the author of the Spiritual Exercises. During the period surveyed the Sacred Penitentiary re-leased the text of four prayers composed by the Holy Father. The first of these prayers (AAS, pp. 235-36) was composed to. be recited by members of the armed forces of the Republic of Argentina; the second of them (AAS, pp. 334-35) is intended to be recited by young girls; the third prayer is a prayer to be recited by workers to St. Joseph the Worker; and the fourth prayer was composed to be recited by prisoners. Each of the above prayers carries an indulgence of three years whenever the prayer is recited devou, tly and with contrite heart by the persons for whom the prayer was intended. The last two documents to be consideied are concerned respectively with the Church in Columbia and in Canada. On October 23, 1957 (AAS, pp. 224-25), the Sacred Congrega-tion of the Consistory gave definitive approval to the statutes governing the national episcopal conference of the Republic of Columbia. By a decree of November 21, 1957 (AAS, pp. 232-34), the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and.Universi-ties canonically established the Catholic University of Sher-brooke in Canada. The local ordinary, the archbishop of Sherbrooke, was named the Grand Chancellor of the new university. OUR CONTRIBUTORS BARNABAS MARY AHERN, formerly professor of Scripture at the Passionist House of Studies, Chicago, Illinois, is at present com-pleting post-graduate requirements for a doctorate in Sacred Scripture in Rome. RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, an assistant professor of psy-chology at the University of San Francisco and d staff member of the McAuley Clinic, St. Mary's Hospital, is currently engaged in psycho- .therapy with religious men and women. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a member oi: the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. EDWARD HAGEMANN is spiritual director at Alma College, a theologate for Jesuit scholastics, at Los Gatos, California. 300 I-low Should Mental Prayer Be Practical? I::dward Nagemann, S.J. o NCE I ATTENDED a conference on prayer in which the speaker undertook to show. how mental prayer is made practical. In a contemplation on the hidden life, he said, we picture our Lord sweeping the house--his care, His modestly, His simplicity. Let us draw from this the resolve: in imitation of Christ I shall sweep my room today at such and such an l/our. No one will deny that such prayer is practicalmwith a ver~gear~ce. But is this the full meaning of that "practical prayer" on which spiritual writers unanimously insist? This we may reasonably doubt. That mental prayer should be practical in some sense is unquestionable. To concern oneself in daily prayer with pious thoughts and movements of the will and yet, day after day, to permit voluntary failures in charity and obedience smacks of illusion. These interior convictions, these acts of the will must in some way flow into action and radiate their influence on one's daily life. Here is where the problem lies. How can we make prayer practical in this way? No simple answer, it seems, will serve as a catchall. Muck "depends, for example, on the state or stage of prayer one has reached. Alphonsus Rodriguez, who wrote primarily for young religious in the early years of their formation, warns us that we must not be satisfied with drawing from meditation a general desire of serving God but should come down to particular in-stances in our life when we can practice such and such .a virtue. (Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, 1929, p. 335). This, he states, is one ot~. the chief fruits to be gathered from meditation on the sacred Passion (II, p. 514). Practical prayer 301 EDWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious in this sense is eminently suited to the audience Rodriguez pri-marily has in mind. Li3uis Lalleman~, on the other hand, was a tertian instruc-tor. Those whom he instructed had been in religion for ten years at the very least and were, therefore, somewhat experi-enced in mental prayer. Moreover, he was giving instruction also for the future lives of his hearers. Dealing with "practical prayer" in the Society of Jesus, Lallemant says, It is an error in prayer to constrain ourselves to give it always a practical bearing. We excite and disquiet ourselves in resolving ho~J we shall behave on su~Ch and such an occasion, what acts of humili.ty, for example, we shall practice. This way of meditating by consideration of virtues is wearisome to the mind, and may even possibly produce disgust. Not but that it is well to do this when we pray, to foresee occa-sions and prepare ourselves for them; but it should be done with free-dom of mind, without refusing to yield ourselves to the simple recollec-tion of contemplation when we feel ourselves drawn to it. (The Spiritual Doctrine of Father Louis Lallemant, 2nd. Princ., Sec. II, Chap. IV, Art. 1) We have here hit upon one of the differences between dis-cursive prayer and contemplation. This latter is not necessakily mystic in the strict sense. It is called, among other names, the prayer of simplicity, the prayer of faith, the prayer of simple recollection. In it, seeing by faith, we look and love. We may be taken up just with the Person of Christ and not with His virtues, arid there is no necessary turning back on ourselves,' The hour of prayer may pass without any reflex act on our-selves or any resolution being formulated. Yet the passing of an hour in the presence of the One we love tones up the whole spiritual man so that the entire day is influenced although we cannot say afterwards that this or that good action Was dhe directly to our hour of mental prayer. Archbishop Goodier has some words very apropos of this. The whole purpose of Illuminative prayer . . . is to make 'the super-natural life more and more a reality . If the supernatural thus becomes our atmosphere, our horizon, in prayer, then in ordinary life it must have its effect. This will follow, and in the actual experience of those who live by such prayer it does follow, even if no "application," no "res-olutions" whatsoever are made. If my life has been really with Christ for an hour, and if my soul all the t(me, no matter with what distractions 302 September, 1958 PRACTICAL MENTAL PRAYER? and pre-occupations of mind, has really been trying to express itself in some way to Him, then, not only for that hour, but for the rest of the day the knowledge of that person will abide. (An Introduction to the Study olr Ascetical and Mystical Theology, 1938, pp. 169-70). Goodier is but following in the footsteps of another Jesuit, a great master of the science of prayer, Jean de Caussade. In an answer to the question what becomes in this kind of prayer of the resolutions which one is accustomed to make dur-ing meditation, De Caussade replies: "There is another time for making these; the time of recollection is not fitted for this. . . Besides, usually as a result of this recollection, one finds oneself in all circumstances well disposed towards the practice of good and the dispelling of evil; and therefore much better equipped to keep those good resolutions that one formerly made without great effect." (On Prayer, 2nd. ed., 1949, p. 206) In discursive prayer the immediate end is the practice of some particular virtue. In the prayer of simple recollection the immediate end is union with God. The ultimate end, of course, is--must be~the practice of virtue. There is no necessary looking at self, no examination of self, no reflex acts. One looks at God. The acts are direct. As St. Francis de Sales says: There are souls who r~adily double and bend back on themselves, who love to feel what they are doing, who wish to see and scrutinize what passes in them, turning their view ever on themselves to discover the progress they make . Now all these spirits are ordinarily subject to be troubled in prayer, for if God deign them the sacred repose of his presence, they voluntarily forsake it to note their own behaviour therein, and to examine whether they are really in content, disquieting themselves~ to discern whether their tranquillity is really tranquil, and their quietude quiet; so that instead of sweetly occuping their will in tasting the sweets of the divine presence, they employ their understanding in reasoning upon the feelings they have; as a bride who should keep her attention on her wedding-ring without looking upon the bridegroom who gave it to . her. (Treatise on the Love of God, 1942, p. 259) Actually, at the end we may wonder if we have a good meditation. This may be a good sign, for as St. Francis de Sales says, "He who prays fervently knows not whether he prays or not, for he is not thinking of the prayer which he makes but of God to whom he makes it" (Treatise on the 3o3 EDWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious Love of God, p. 391). Here en passant we may point out the importance of a brief recollection after the prayer is over. In it we see how we have done, if any carelessness crept into the prayer itself or into the preparation before. We thank God for what He has enabled us to do, and we note the general direction our prayer has taken. All that we have said brings out an important truth in spiritual theology. It is this: spiritual perfection is measured by the love that is in a soul, i.e., by both affective and effective love. St. Francis de Sales explains these two loves for us: By affective love we love God and what he loves, by effective we serve God and do what he ordains; that joins us to God's goodne.ss, this makes us execute his will: The one fills us with complacency, benevolence, ydarnings, de-sires, aspirations and spiritual ardors, causing us to practice the sacred infusions and minglings of our spirit with God's, the other establishes in us the solid resolution, the constancy of heart, and the inviolable obedi-ence requisite to effect the ordinances of the divine will, and to suffer, accept, approve and embrace all that comes from his good pleasure; the one makes us pleased in God, the other makes us please God. (Treatise on the Love of God, p. 231) Now it will always be safer to judge of the perfection of any soul by its effective love, i.e., by its virtuous life, for this will be a proof that the affective love is genuine. This is what the Church does in the inquiries leading up to canoniza-tion. Nevertheless, the perfection of one's spiritual life will depend primarily on affective love. This affective love is not a movement of the affections that arises spontaneously within us without any consent of our free wills; but it consists of acts freely admitted, both acts of the love of God and acts ¯ of the other virtues aroused out of love for God. Now, this is precisely what occurs in contemplation. We look and love. This loving consists sometimes of a single act lasting a certain length of time, sometimes of consecutive acts of the love of God for Himself or of the other virtues aroused by and clothed, so to speak, in love. As these are direct, not reflex acts, they are almost imperceptible When perceived, it is only in a 304 September, 1958 PRACTICAL MENTAL PRAYER? confused manner~ The effects, however, of this kind of prayer are most perceptible. They are good works. An eminent theologian, Joseph de Guibert, S.J., in his treatise, "Perfection and Charity," has these pertinent words: "One cannot immediately condemn as useless those general im-pulses of the love of God (e.g. in mental prayer) which are not immediately followed by some practical conclusion or resolve. If these are true movements of love, that is, not merely emotional but elicited by an act of free will, then they are meritorious in themselves and can greatly contribute to the increase of the dominion of charity over one's whole life." (The Theology of the Spiritual Life," 1953, p. 55) These words are but an echo of the strong statement of Lallemant: "We should regard as practical, and not purely' speculative, such exercise of prayer as disposes the soul to charity, relig-ion and humility, etc., although the affection remains within the soul, and does not express itself in outward a~ts" (The Spiritual Doctrine of Father Louis Lallemant, 2nd. Princ., Sec. II, Chap. IV, Art. 1). We see the importance of this affective love stressed in the third week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. At the end of the second w~ek the resolution or "election" has been made. The important thing now is to strengthen oneself so that one will be .ready to carry it out. In other words, the third week, as well as the fourth week, is to confirm the resolu-tion. Now, what St. Ignatius wants, in this week is told us in the third prelude of every contemplation, "To ask for what I want. It will be here grief, feeling and confusion because for my sins the Lord is going to the Passion." If I affectively love Christ in His sufferings, I shall more readily show my effective love for Him in action. What holds in a retreat holds also in general for medi-tation on the Passion. In a meditation on the crowning of thorns, Archbishop Goodier says: "Throughout meditation on the Passion there is little need to look for application; its own 305 EDWARD HAGEMANN Revicw for Religious dead weight should be enough, pressing down on us as it pressed down on Him; in scenes such as this, in particular, we need do no more than try to realize what they contained; to do so is to grow in sympathy, and sympathy is love." (The Crown of Sorrows, !.932, p. 92) To conclude. We have considered the two extremes in ordinary mental prayer: discursive and contemplative prayer. We have seen that both of these are practical. Between these two kinds and also in these two kinds themselves, there are as many stages and degrees as there are people making mental prayer. Because of temperament, training, family and educa-tional background, physical condition, etc., some people tend more to reflection, others more to acts of' affection. Some have more problems, psychological and spiritual, than others. All this influences mental prayer and the practical turn it will take. Moreover, as one progresses in prayer, it will always be toward simplification both in the thought process and in the affections. In addition to all this, it must never be for-gotten that mental prayer is--prayer. It is not just thinking and reflecting, examining self and making resolutions. As Father Edward Leen puts it: "It must always be remembered that return upon ourselves is not the essential activity and such return must be interwoven with abundant petition for Divine Light. Any concentration on self not directed and controlled. by a supernatural impulse and movement of grace is likely to beget mere natural activity if not degenerate into morbid self-analysis." (Progress Through Mental Prayer, New York, 1947, p. 182, note 6) ¯ We are to make progress, then, in perceiving more clearly and readily the touches of grace and in following its attrac-tions as to the choice of both the matter and the manner of our mental prayer--and all without anxiety. As a result we shall notice within ourselves a gradual growth in gentle pa-tience, a deepening of peace, and a desire more and more to do God's will--a complete surrender to His good pleasure 306 September, 1958 ]~OOK REVIEWS everywhere and in everything. Mental prayer is not an end in itself but a means by which we prepare ourselves to serve God better. That prayer, then, is practical that helps us to this preparation. As Our Lord expressed it, "By the fruit the tree is known" (Matt. 12:33~. De Caussade sums it up thus, "All prayer which makes us holy, better or less wicked is surely good, for it is just a means of sanctification" (On Prayer, p. 202). And somewhat more fully in his other work: "All prayer that produces reformation of the heart, amendmen~ of life, the avoidance of vice, the practice of the evangelical virtues and the duties of one's state, is a good prayer" (Aban-donment to Divine Providence, 1921, p. 140). Book Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW ~FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE PRACTICE OF THE RULE. By Louis Colin, C.SS.R. Translated from the French by David Heimann. Pp. 250. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. 1957. $3.75. At first glance The Practice of the Rule might appear as just another book on religious perfection within the cloister. However, the book distinguishes itself fiom most of those of similar bent by treating at length an area of religious life which more fre-quently than not receives only passing mention from ascetical authors. Father Colin attempts to give "a complete and precise synthesis of the practice of the rule: its nature, its necessity, its enemies, its developments, its prerogatives." By more than a mere expository presentation, the author proposes to instill a love of the rule that will motivate the religious to an-exact and a generous practice of his order's institute as manifested by his observance of the rule. A brief introductory chapter presents the reader with a clear analysis of the fundamental character and primacy of an interior practice of the rule, the source of any sincere exterior observance. "Once again: the value of observance is measured less by its exterior rigor than by its spirit. The man whose practice of the rule is as 307 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious regulated and exact as a clock will have less virtue than another who is less regular but more spiritual in his obedience." The six following chapters treat in detail the interior practice which must perforce regard the rule with faith, confidence, and love. Faith in the rul~ is demanded because of the holiness and the authority of the rules themselves. Confidence in the rule depends on two factors: "conviction--hoping for everythihg from the practice of the rule; and fear--dreading everything from the violation of the rule." Love of the rule is "the most perfect and most necessary" force in interior practice of the rule. An interior practice rooted in deep faith, firm confidence, and genuine love leads riaturally and logically to regularity, that is, the exterior practice of the rule. "The Fine Points of Observance" and "The Martyrdom of Observ-ance" contain the author's views on this external observance. The final chapters discuss the enemies of both interior and exterior practice, progress in religious obgervance, and the advantages both to the individual and to the religious order which God has attached to perfect regularity. "Father Col~n" develops the subject clearly and forcefully. Prob-ably, as he himself suggests in the forward, the quotations are too numerous and, though they are "not without justification," could be fewer in number. The style is easily comprehended and befitting a tgpic of this nature. At the same time, credit is due David Heimann, whose translation from the French leaves little to be desired. Regrettably, perhaps, Father Colin feels compelled to observe that rule violations, "when they are unjustified, are never entirely free from sin." Apart from the fact that some moyalists dispute this, the employment of such a motive for rule observance.bespeaks in a sense a certain lack of confidence in the generosity and sin-cerity of ihdividual religious who, p~esumably, without such a motivation would fall into a wholesale disregard of the rule. In other places throughout his book, however, Father Colin definitely appeals to these two virtues--generosity and sincerity--as a solid foundation upon which true religious regularity rests. Consequently,. his treatment of the sinfulness of rule violations need not obscure the otherwise lofty motivation he presents. The Practice of the Rule not only is profitable for private reading and study, but also has value as public reading during times of retreat, of renovation of vows, or on days of the monthly recollection.--Rds~gT E. MuggAv, S.J. 308 ,September, 1958 BOOK REvIEWS THE GOLDEN DOOR. The Life of Katherine Drexel. By Katherine Burton. Pp. 329. P. J. Kenedy & Sons, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8. 1957. ~3.7~. This biography offers an interesting factual account of the background and activities of Mother Katherine Drexel, foundress of the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament for Indian and Colored People~ Tl~e second of three daughters of Francis Drexel., Jr., a promi-nent banker of Philadelphia, Mother Katherine spent the early years of her life enjoying the usual privileges, which great possessions afford. The formality of frequent social events in the town house was succeeded each summer by the pleasant days of leisure at the family's "country estate. Various visits or excursions while at home and extensive travel abroad, especially in Europe, complemented her formal education. The most important part of h.er heritage, how-ever, was thee deep Catholic piety and admirable charity which were so characteristic of her parents. One result of the innumerable visits of members of the hierarchy and missionary priests seeking financial aid for their work was the interest in the plight of the Indians and Negroes aroused in Mother. Katherine. Her concern increased as she learned of the manner in which these Americans were neglected and even deprived of their rights, by their government. While seriously co.nsider'ing her vocation, an audience with Pope Ldo XIII strengthened her decision to devote her life as well .as her wealth to these unfortunate Ameri-cans. This led to the establishment of a new congregation of sisters devoted exclusively to the Indians and colored people. After he.r own religious training under, the guidance of the Sisters of Mercy had be.en completed, the story of her life is, to a great extent, the story of successive trips:, to Rome in order to hasten the approval of hero congregation; to each mission, church, or school to inspect and direct operations. She established "three houses of social service and one mission center, many rural schools, eigh~ of them supervised by her sisters, sixty-one other schools-- twelve high schools, forty-eight elementary schools--and Xavier University, the first Catholic university ' in the country for its Negro citizens." A long life filled .with the hardships of travel and multiple administrative duties was terminated after a serious lingering illness. Mother Katherine died in 1955 at the age of ninety-six. 3O9 BOOK R~-TIEWS Review for Religious Love is expressed in deeds. And Katherine Burton has rightly recalled in an excellent manner the outward deeds of Mother Katherine. This reviewer found the general pattern of visits and trips somewhat tedious, but much less so than what Mother Katherine herself must have experienced. What is implicit in the deeds could have been, perhaps, made mo~e explicit by allowing Mother Katherine to express herself at greater length on various occasions. But perhaps a companion volume is planned to give us a more penetrat-ing study of the interior life and spirit of this remarkable handmaid of the Lord. The book i~ recommended reading for all. h JOHN W. MACURAK, S.2. KNIGHTS OF CHRIST. By Helen Walker Homan. Pp. 486. larentice. Hall, 70 Fifth Avenue, New York 11. 1957.$12.50. In this handsome and expensive volume forty-five Catholic orders of men pass in review. Instead of trying to be exhaustive, ¯ Mrs. Homan has chosen to present the oldest orders and/or those best represented in the United States today. Nece, ssarily, readers. will be disappoii~ted by the omission of groups they are interested in. Positively, however, the result is good: instead of very brief entries on every group in existence today, there are substantial essays of roughly ten pages, a length that allows Mrs. Homan some room to describe each oiae's historical origins, its peculiar spirit, and its work in the United States. My one regret is that space could not be found for at least one representative of eastern monasticism. Furthermore, Mrs. Homan has successfully carried through the difficult task she assigned herself. She has consulted the proper solid sources; the book is not a rosary strung with legends. Her statistics seem up-to-date and reliable (although I know of no other source for 4,000,000 Franciscan Tertiaries in 1947). She maintains a decent proportion both between essays and between the various parts of each essay. By its very nature, such a volume is bound to seem repetitious in style and content to the reviewer who reads it in a rather short space of time. At appropriate times of the year, however, each chapter would make interesting and profitable reading, say, in the dining rooms of thbse communities which have reading during meals.~W. P. KROLIKOWSKI, S.J. 310 September, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS THUNDER IN THE DISTANCE. The Life of P~re Lebbe. By Jacques Lederq. Translated from the French by George Lamb. Pp. 322.' Sheed and Ward, 840 Broadway, New York 3. 1958. His Belgian parents had English associations, so even in Ghent they called little Frederick Lebbe (1877-1940) Freddie. But early in life he interested himself in St. Vincent de Paul and China and, accordingly, called himself Vincent Lei Ming Yuan. We are told that the Chinese name means "Thun~[er in the Distance." The name turned out to be symbolic of not only the cannonfire and aerial bombing over his China as he was leaving that dear land for God, but also of the rain of grace in China during his thirty-nine years as Chinese citizen and missionary. Qery fdw books are so worth giving to any foreign missionary anywhere as this very beautifully written life. Any foreign missionary can learn wha.t he or she should be by reading this inspiring and amazing story of how little Phre Lebbe made himself a model.~6~ any missionary, clerical, religious, or lay. Any refectory audience interested in some entertaining, in-spiring, amazing history of the Church must hear this book read. The amazing part of the book is the opposition from really good men, priests and bishops, to the unequivocal directives of the Holy See that missions foster vocations among their converts. Since vocations mean priestsand religious, priests and religious mean bishops and. superiors, this means Asiatics and Africans over Europeans. Thanks be to God for the great missionary encyclicals of Popes Benedict XV, Pius XI, and Pius XII and for the very considerable part little P~re Lebbe had in giving the Church her now several hundred Chinese and Japanese and Indian ~nd Negro bishops and cardinals! Thanks be to God for the International Catholic Auxiliaries of Chicago and elsewhere whom Father Lebbe's great organizational ability gave us for the formation of good lay apostles.--PAuL D~NT S:J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BENZIGER BROTHERS, INC.,. 6-8 Barclay Street, New York 8, New York. Teach Ye All Nations. By Edward L. Murphy, S.J. Here is an excellent introduction to missiology. The problem of the missions is viewed from many angles and is presented in its proper perspective. Consequently, it is an appeal for the missions that is different. 311 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Instead of pointing out the desperate needs of the missions, it sets forth the theology of the. missions, not for theologians but for the general reader. Anyone who reads this book and applies its doctrine to himself will become mission minded aad do his share in carrying out our Lord's injunction: "Teach ye all nations." Pp. 234. $2.7L THE BRUCE PUBLISHING" COMPANY, 400 North Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. Religious Men and Women in Church Law. By Joseph Creusen, S.J. Sixth English edition by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. This is not a reprint but a completely revised edition of a classic volume. Seven appendices greatly increase its value. There you will find the list of questions for the quinquennial report; a summary of the la~ regarding .diocesan congregations of religious women/; a new papal instruction on" the cloister of nuns; decrees of t}~e Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious on military service; and a letter of the same con-gregation on the use of radio and television. Pp. 380. $6.50. EDUCATIONAL CONFERENCE OF THE SISTERS OF ST. JOSEPH .OF CARONDELET, Fontbonne College, St. Louii, Missouri. The Intellectual Life of the Religious. Proceedings and Papers of the Fifteenth Meeting, 1957. Sisters whose work is education can find in the proceedings excellent directives to achieve an integration of the spiritual and intellectual life so necessary for them if they are to achieve success in thd work to which God has called them. Pp. 100~ FIDES PUBLISHERS, 744 East 97th Street, Chicag~ 19, Illinois. Our Life of Grace. By Canon F. Cuttaz. Translated.by An-geline Bouchard. One of the more difficult subjects in. theology, yet one most profitable from an ascetical point of view, is the subject of grace. It also happens to be the one about which non-theologians know the least since it is so difficult to find books on the subject which are not written for professional theologians. That is why we owe a debt of gratitude to the author of the present volume. He realized that "ignorance of grace is ignorance of what is most fruitful for our devotion; of'the dogmas' best suited to stir the heart and will to good; of the most consoling and inspiring truths' of our religion." To remove this ignorance on the part of many he wrote Our Life of Grace: That he was successful is assured by the fact that the French edition is already in its fifth printing. The translation is excellent. Pp. 327. $6.95. 312 September, lp58 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS More Than Many .Sparrows. By Leo J. Trese. This time Father Trese has written a book for lay people. It is their problems that he considers, their happiness .that he ~trives to promote.~ And he~ does it in his. accustomed manner which is at once interesting and persuasive. Pp. 137. $2.95. -~ "~Fides Publishers have jhst issued three of their books in~ pa~er-back 'editions~° Conversation with Christ by "Pet~'r-Thomas Rohrbach, O,C.D. Pp. "171. $1.25. Lend Me Your Hands 'by Bernard F. Meyer, M.M. Pp. 241. $1.50'. Father of the Family by Eugene S'. Geissler. Pp. 157. $1.25. These books were described in this column'in Januaiy, 1957, July, 1955, and: July, 1957, respectively. FORDHAM UlXfIVERSITY PRESS, New York 28, New~ York. Planning.lfor ~he Formation of Sister~, Studies on th~ Teaching Aposiolate.and Selections from Addresse~s of the Sister Formation Conferences. 1956-1957. Edited by,~ Sister Ritamary, C.H.M. ¯ This book oiS most interesting because of the clarity and authority .with which it portrays the many problems .of the teaching apostolate; it is indispensable i:or those responsible for meeting the many present and future needs of this apo~stolate; it is most consoling for it gives such .eloquent testimony, of the thought .and labor being expended to meet these many needs. Pp. 314. $3.50. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiaha. The Angels. By Pascal Parente. There exists in the universe created by God beings that far surpass man in intelligence and power. This ,is the w0r!d of pure spirits. ,Like men ~they had a period if probation' a~d many failed the test. They are now bad ~pi~'its br devilS.' Th~ good spirits or angels are ou~- allies and.can be coufited on' fo~ help "in ~our time of probation; the' devil~ are odr ad~,~rsaries. Many of us do not know enough about this spirii wdrld and its'contacts with ,the world in which we live. It is greatly to our ad~,antage~ tp~ldarn more about th~ w(~rld of the angels. The p~esent volume tells ~hat G6d has revealed concern-ing this universe of spiri'ts ahd ~vhat theologians havd bd~n 'able to deduc~ from"

Objetivos: Desarrollar una escala de probabilidad de morir por Infección respiratoria aguda en menores de un año, según los determinantes sociales de la salud. Metodología: Se revisó y analizó la información de la base de datos de la cohorte de nacidos vivos del 2011 en Bogotá, incluyendo 106.758 menores de edad, para establecer un modelo de regresión de Cox, que prediga la mortalidad por infección respiratoria aguda. Resultados: El riesgo de morir fue 2,5 veces entre los de bajo peso al nacer, ( 2500 gr), (IC 95% 1.3-4.66), en presencia de prematurez, HR 2,67 (IC 95% 1.4-5.09), pertenecer al sistema general de seguridad social subsidiado, riesgo HR 2.6 (IC 95% 1.62-4.15) y residir en localidades tales como: Bosa, Ciudad Bolívar, Santa Fe, Usme, Rafael Uribe, Barrios Unidos y Teusaquillo, riesgo HR 4,8 (IC95% 1.9-12). La escala de vulnerabilidad, predijo mejor el riesgo de morir por IRA, al comparar con los no fallecidos, que al comparar con los fallecidos por otras causas y presentó una discriminación aceptable. Conclusiones: Este estudio permitió identificar y cuantificar el peso de determinantes que se pueden relacionar con la predicción de muerte por IRA en menores de un año en Bogotá, los cuales han sido descritos por otros estudios a nivel mundial. Palabras clave: (MeSH terms): Proportional hazards models, Infant mortality, Respiratory Tract Diseases, Pneumonia, Social Determinants of Health. ; Abstract. Objectives: To develop a scale of probability of dying for acute respiratory infection in children under one year, according to the social determinants of health. Methodology: Data from the 2011 live birth cohort database in Bogotá, including 106,758 minors, were reviewed and analyzed to establish a Cox regression model predicting mortality from acute respiratory infection. Results: The risk of dying was 2.5 times among those with low birth weight (2500 g), (95% CI 1.3-4.66), in the presence of prematurity, HR 2.67 (95% CI 1.4-5.09 ), belong to the general subsidized social security system, risk HR 2.6 (IC 95% 1.62-4.15) and to reside in localities such as Bosa, Ciudad Bolívar, Santa Fe, Usme, Rafael Uribe, Barrios Unidos and Teusaquillo, risk HR 4,8 (95% CI 1.9-12). The vulnerability scale, better predicted the risk of dying from ARI, compared with those who did not died, compared to those who died from other causes and presented acceptable discrimination. Conclusions: This study allowed us to identify and quantify the weight of determinants that can be related to the prediction of ARI death in children under one year of age in Bogotá, which have been described by other studies worldwide. Key words: (MeSH terms): Proportional hazards models, Infant mortality, Respiratory Tract Diseases, Pneumonia, Social Determinants of Health. ; Maestría

Issue 59.5 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Cons~crat,eld Life SEPTEMBER O(~TOBER "~- 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 o to God's universal call,to holiness o by maki~i~ a~ailabie t~ them thespiritual legdcles ~ " tbat flow from tbe cbarisms_of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Review for Religious " Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to cop3~ing for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. iew religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger-OS.B Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittberg sC SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 contents catholic education 454 471 Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Martin R. Tripole SJ presents a brief history of Catholic higher education in the United States since Vatican Council II in order to give a context for the issues of contention in recent church documents. Theology Lived in Faith Stan Parmisano OP reflects on the all-pervasiveness of faith in our study o.f theology--a seeing or understanding all the way. 479 488 religious identity Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Matthew Eggemeier presents some characteristics of his own generation and highlights the aspects of religious life which appeal to young people. Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity J. Sheila Galligan IHM proposes that a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ offers support for a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil. 5OO a way of living Work in Such a Way Marie Beha OSC ponders the various ways of living out the Franciscan directive "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer." Review for Religious 5O7 518 The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux Ernest E. Larkin OCarm explains the "specialness" of the life and writings of Th~r~se of Lisieux in presenting the gospel in a new light, with new insight, under the descriptive phrases "little way" or "little doctrine." The Power to Bless: The Sacramentality of Human Touch Carolyn Sur SSND encourages all women and men to participate more fully in their baptismal call to share in Christ's priesthood. 526 537 consecrated life Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities Patricia Wittberg SC challenges the notion of reaching a balance point in community life where the needs of the group and the needs of the individual are met--all the while observing religious obedience. Our Past Mission's Unfinished Destiny: The Perspective of Vowed Commitment Philip Armstrong CSC finds a new relevancy in Metz's Poverty of Spirit for any community's pr.eparation for canonical chapters or assemblies. departments ¯ ¯ 452 Prisms 542 Canonical Counsel: Role of the Novice Director 547 Book Reviews September-October 2000 prisms Justice is a major theme of the jubilee year we are celebrating as we enter into this new mil-lennium. With so much evident injustice in our civil society, injustice paradoxically in our justice systems, and even apparent injustice in our divine and all-too-human church, we can appreciate a reexamination for ourselves about our response to God's call to walk justly. For justice is a tricky concept. We often identify jus-tice with a balance sheet. We hear "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" not as a statement of vengeance, but as our own words for our idea of justice. And Jesus clearly said that such an interpretation of justice has no connection with the way God sees life. Justice based on rights, justice based on equal balances, may approach a. good philosopher's or civil libertarian's idea of justice. But it is perhaps no more than the threshold of a Christian understanding of justice. To paraphrase a Hopkins-like expression, too often "justice injustices." When we struggle and fight for rights for the oppressed, who will be the new oppressed of our efforts? When we bully our way to see justice done, who will be trampled in the process? As we fight to provide life for some, what others are having to face a dying? Re!igious, in trying to fulfill a prophetic role in today's church, have made fresh claims on justice as their mission. But the question remains whether in their lUStlce efforts they have been more ~ften a stimulus for the increase of injustice. God's just.iFe, the gospel justice, is not a simple mat- ¯ ter of securing rights and seeking a balance of scales, as Review for Religious we see depicted in our classical justice statues. The justice that Jesus describes deals with a turning the other cheek, with a giving of my clo'ak, with a walking of an extra mile. Justice is more iden-tified with compassion, the compassion of a father who looks for his wayward child and rushes out to greet him and and welcome him home with a celebration. This understanding of justice finds a very narrow gateway into the human heart. We seem to be only at the .threshold of realizing that there is today no such thing as a just war--if ever there was such a possibility. With great difficulty we, especially in the United States, are slow in realizing that capital punishment is not an act of justice. It more represents vengeance and sullies even further and makes less human those who advocate its use. With an abundance of lawyers, our society has not become more just but rather more litigious. Absorbing this kind of culture, even we followers of Jesus quickly claim rights, less so responsibilities. We see justice with an individual eye; common good is no longer an horizon of vision, even religiously. Are not we Catholics, especially women and men religious, called to be agents of communion in such a culture? An agent of communion, making God's justice alive in the world, will come to understand why the cross is a paradoxical sign of justice. The cross remains the sign of human iustice--the result of a human court calling for the death of an innocent Jewish man. The cross remains God's symbol of justice--allowing arms to be strtetched wide to the left and to the right in an everlasting ges-ture of reconciliation. Working in Jesus' name, the agent of com-munion, the ambassador of reconciliation, will find the cross integral to living and promoting gospel justice. The call that we hear in this jubilee year, then, is not for the simple justice of all properties being restored to the original own-ers of fifty years ago. It is not a call to ~ justice of the balance sheet. The call to which we Christians are challenged to respond puts our feet into the footprints of Jesus. If we are to walk justly with our God, we need to be people who know how to talk earnestly with others along the way. We call it dialogue. We need to be people who can negotiate. We need to be people who seek reconciliation. We need to be a people who act like Christ. As agents of communion, we seek to live a gospel justice. David L. Fleming sJ September-October 2000 catholic education MARTIN R. TRIPOLE Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Ex corde ecdesiae (From the Heart of the Church), Pope John Paul II's apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, was released in Rome on 25 September 1990. That document and a subsequent one, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States" (hereafter "Application"), are generating much excitement in Catholic higher education in the United States tqday. Ex corde ecdesiae was long in the making. Data on its history is available, but not in a neat compendium. The purpose of this essay is (1) to provide a brief and manageable survey of its history, as well as of its com-panion document, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States"; (2) to explain the theological foun-dations for the understanding of what a Catholic uni-versity is, as contained in the two documents; and (3) to focus on the issues of contention and the implications of those issues as contained in the two documents. Martin R. Tripole SJ, associate professor of theology at St. Joseph's University, was coordinator of "Jesuit Education 21," a conference held in June 1999. He edited its volume of Proceedings, published in June 2000 by St. Joseph's University Press. He also edited Promise Renewed, 27 papers. on Jesuit higher education (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1999) and wrote Faith beyond Justice: Widening the Perspective (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1994). His address is St. Joseph's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religious History of Ex Corde Ecclesiae Ex corde ecclesiae may be understood as the latest event in a conflict that has been going on between the Catholic Church and modernity since Pius x's condemnation of Modernism in 1907.~ But here we begin with 1949, when Pius XlI, in collaboration with the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, called together the leaders of "pontifical" institutions, that is, institutions char-tered directly by the Holy See, to form an association that later came to be known as the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). This federation became an independent asso-ciation in 1963 and, under the direction of the Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh CSC, president of the University of Notre Dame, was broadened to include most Catholic colleges and universities? From 1963 to 1990 there was a long series of conferences and disputes over what a Catholic university is and what its goals should be. Views were and are divided. Some give primacy to the Catholic institution and its educational goals as integral to the life of the church; others see Catholic universities primarily as an institution governed by the rules for good universities that operate in the sec-ular community. For the former group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as Catholic, as an arm of the church carrying on its mission, which is to proclaim the gospel of truth to the world, harmonize the teachings of faith and reason, and promote the Christianizing of human life and the social order, For the latter group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as university, as a center for study and research in competition with secular uni-versities for qualitative teaching and scholarly excellence. There will perhaps always be some tension between these two viewpoints, but in recent history (1967) a decisive radical move occurred in Catholic education, a move that I believe led to the creation of Ex corde ecclesiae and the great divide in Catholic education today. Let me provide a brief history. The search for a definition of a Catholic university gets under-way with a 1965 meeting oflFCU in Tokyo.3 This meeting appears to have been a response to the new theology of the church gener-ated by the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), especially the council's most original document, "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). It was only natural for Catholic educa-tion to rethink its role in the world in the light of Vatican II's emphasis both on the need to make the gospel relevant to modern life and on the importance of the laity in accomplishing this mis- Septe~nber-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae sion. And so the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education and IFCU "cooperated in sponsoring a series of regional meetings throughout the world on the nature of the modern Catholic uni-versity and its role in the church and world.''4 These regional meetings were held in Buga (Colombia), Manila, Paris, and, most important for Catholic education in America, a Wisconsin resort town known as Land O'Lakes, where the Holy Cross Fathers had a villa house, to which Father Hesburgh invited twenty-six men, leaders in American Catholic higher education, to come to formulate a statement on the role of Catholic universities in America. Twenty-one were priests or bishops, and two of the laymen were the chairmen of the boards of trustees of Saint Louis University and the University of Notre Dame (Gallin, p. 12). Church historian David J. O'Brien states, "As the church would be permanently changed by Vatican II, North America's Catholic universities would be forever changed by. the meeting and resultant statement that became known simply as 'Land O'Lakes.'''s Philip Gleason of Notre Dame asserts in his Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (p. 317) that the Land O'Lakes statement., took on a life of its own as a symbolic manifesto that marked the opening of a new era in American Catholic higher education . [It] was, indeed, a declaration of independence from the hierarchy and a symbolic turning point. It confirmed at the college and university level what John Cogley told Catholic educators the year before: the church's future path might remain unclear, but her "cold war with modernity" was definitely over. What makes Land O'Lakes so important? Let us note, first, three issues that have been explicit or implicit in higher-educa-tion statements ever since the Land O'Lakes statement: (1) insti-tutional autonomy, meaning no outside interference in the educational operations of universities; (2) academic freedom, mean-ing scholars are to be restricted only by the limitations of their own sciences; and (3) fidelity to the teachings of the church, that is, abiding by the authoritative teachings of the Catholic Church's magisterium. Land O'Lakes started a movement that put so much importance on the first two--institutional autonomy and academic freedom, both understood as demanding independence from church authority--that the church responded by making fidelity to Review for Religious the magisterium an essential characteristic of Catholic education. And so what did Land O'Lakes say? It asserted the primacy of the Catholic university as a university. In the brief document of about 1500 words (composed largely by Robert J. Henle SJ,6 who was then academic vice president of Saint Louis University and later was president of Georgetown University), the first paragraph is especially important: The Catholic university today must be a university in the full modern sense of the word, with a strong commitment to and concern for academic excellence. To perform its teaching and research functions effectively, the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic free-dom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or cler-ical, external to the academic community itself. To say this is simply to assert that institutional autonomy and aca-demic freedom are essential conditions of life and growth and indeed of survival for Catholic universities as for all universities.7 The document goes on to say that "every university, Catholic or not, serves as the critical reflective intelligence of its society" and that, "in keeping with this general function, the Catholic univer-sity., should carry on a continual examination of all aspects and all activities of the church and should objectively evaluate them" (Gallin, p. 9). This may have been more of a contribution from Catholic universities than the Vatican was interested in having. Representatives of the four regional meetings met in September 1968 at the Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo. The Kinshasa docu-ment, titled "The Catholic University in the Modern World," states, consistently with Vatican II, that a Catholic university draws its inspiration "from the light of revealed truth," making the university a "center for development and diffusion of an authentic Christian culture." There are no juridical aspects in the Kinshasa document: Catholic universities are only asked to accept voluntarily the '!Church's teaching authority" (Gallin, pp. 13-16, at 14-15). In May 1969 an international meeting of thirty elected dele-gates of Catholic universities met in Rome and drew up a document titled "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento." Both Henle and Hesburgh were present at this congress. It was here that the four essential characteristics of a Catholic university were September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae composed, which became a part of standard Catholic documenta-tion from then on, including Ex corde ecclesiae (Hellwig, p. 22): 1. A Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such. 2. A continuing reflection in the light of the Catholic faith upon the growing treasury of human knowledge, to which it seeks to contribute by its own research. 3. Fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the church. 4. An institutional commitment to the service of the peo-ple of God and of the human family in their pilgrimage to the transcendent goal which gives meaning to life. (Ex corde ecclesiae, Origins 20, no. 17 I4 October 1990]: 269) The 1969 document takes a very strong stand on the inde-pendence of the university. In line with the thinking of Land O'Lakes and the Kinshasa statements, the 1969 document reit-erates that a Catholic university "must have a true autonomy and academic freedom," but even more strongly it states that a Catholic university must be allowed to pursue the truth "without conditions." It asserts that "every limitation imposed on the uni-versity which would clash with this unconditioned attitude for pursuing truth would be intolerable and contrary to the very nature of the university." The only obligation the university has, according to the document, is "to the legitimate exigencies of the society which sustains it," meaning civil society. The document states that the magisterium "can intervene only in a situation where the truth of the revealed message is at stake," but even then it does not state how this intervention would occur, but only that university statutes must be observed. The theologian "is bound. ¯. to take into proper account the pronouncements of the church" and "must. present the authentic teaching of the church," but nothing is said about what would happen if he does not. The doc-ument explicitly states for the first time that. "any juridical inter-vention in university affairs must be excluded" (Gallin, pp. 17-35 at 17-20). This issue of a juridical relationship between the church and th( university becomes the major bone of contention in sub-sequent debate. The second international congress convened by the Sacred Congregation for CatholicEducation and IFCU and held in Rome in November 1972 apprdved a document titled "The Catholic Review ?or Religious University in the Modern World." Considerable attention is given in the document to "Relations with the Catholic Hierarchy." The document recognizes that there is a "delicate balance to be main-tained between the autonomy of a Catholic university and the responsibilities of the hierarchy." The document reiterates the 1969 position that "theologians must present the authentic doctrine of the church," but insists that they "be able to pursue their dis-cipline in the same manner as other research scholars." While the document.recognizes the right of the magisterium to pass judgment on the doctrinal integrity of a theologian's teaching, it nevertheless calls for "a kind of self-regulation of the Catholic academic community." Consistent with the 1969 document, the authors assert that there is to be no "juridical intervention, whether direct or indirect, in the institutional affairs of the university" (Gallin, pp. 37-57 at 53-56). When the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregati'on for Catholic Education met in 1973, however, it found the 1972 document to need improvement. Here for the first time Rome begins to inter-vene. A letter of Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of the con-gregation; written to the university presidents, makes three points: (1) the statutes of Catholic universities musl~ declare their "com-mitment as 'Catholic'"; (2) "appropriate andefficacious instru-ments" of "self-regulation,' regarding faith and morality must be established; and (3) the universities must "in no way" consider themselves "removed" from their "relationships" with the hier-archy (Gallin, pp. 59-61 at 60). What exactly that means is unclear, but I think we can see here the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. To understand these meetings of educators, we need two back-ground elements. First, throughout the 1970s, there was an increaso At the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education in 1973, we can see the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae ing movement toward incorporation of colleges and universities separate from the religious congregations that founded them. This, it was argued, was necessary to maintain the constitutional sepa-ration of church and state required to receive the federal and state funding necessary to survive. At the same time, the boards of trustees of these institutions became predominantly lay. This, it was argued, was in compliance with Vatican II's new theology of the laity and the need for the expertise and financial resources the laity could bring to Catholic education. Thus a new movement deliberately alienating Catholic universities from their relation-ship to the church and religious orders set in, and sometimes with-out any consultation with the church hierarchy. This caused the Vatican to wonder what was happening to American Catholic higher education, and to ask whether it still remained Catholic (Gallin, pp. 63-64). Second, in June 1975 the Vatican began to move forward on an apostolic constitution that appeared in 1979: Sapientia Christiana (Christian Wisdom). Its purpose was to regulate the life of "eccle-siastical faculties," sometimes called "pontifical" institutes. These are universities directly chartered or erected and approved by the Vatican (The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., is one of these). The juridical framework of this discussion was directed toward complying with the demands the new Code of Canon Law was to make upon "ecclesiastical" faculties. This doc-ument was being prepared to regulate these "ecclesiastical facul-ties," not Catholic universities. But the mere preparations for this document caused Catholic universities to fear, correctly, that some kind of juridical restructuring was also awaiting them (Gallin, pp. 63-64). When it became known with the first official draft of the new Code in 1978 that new juridical and canonical bonds were also to be established for Catholic universities, many American Catholic educators struggled to get those canons revised or dropped, but to no avail. The new Code appeared in 1983 with, in canon 812, the dreaded word mandatum used for the first timE. It reads: Those who teach theological disciplines in any institutes of higher education whatsoever must have a mandate (man-datum) from the competent ecclesiastical authority. The new canons did not cause much interest at Catholic institutions in America at first, for it was generally held that they would not be applicable in the United States, where juridical ties to the church Review for Religious did not exist and where a rigorous system of separation of church and state was constitutionally binding (Hellwig, pp. 25-28). But Rome saw otherwise. In 1980 the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education started working on a document for Catholic universities. After the new Code appeared, the document was adapted to fit the new canons 807-814 governing Catholic uni-versities. A working document, called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities," was composed in April 1985 and sent to all bishops and university presidents for review. A sec-ond draft was made in 1988, and a new review panel of presidents and bishops met with John Paul II and congregation officials in Rome in April 1989. This panel recommended that normative principles should be few and general in nature, and that they be adapted by regional bishops' conferences. The panel wanted no mention made of the juridical canons of the new canon law (Gallin, pp. 381-383 at 381-382). In August 1989 the congregation's draft-ing committee issued a third draft, taking into account the rec-ommendations that had been made. A further revision was presented to the October 1989 plenary session of the congregation and then to the pope. In September 1990 the apostolic constitu-tion on Catholic universities, Ex corde ecdesiae, was issued (Gallin, pp. 189-190; Hellwig, pp. 28-29). Many American presidents remained optimistic, even though the request for no mention of the new juridical canons of the Code was ignored. Still, they considered the constitution harmless enough if it was not applied to the American scene too stringently. The battle scene now changes. The document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was to be drawn up by American university presidents and the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. A committee of six bis'hops and eight presidents, chaired by Bishop John J. Leibrecht of Springfield-Cape Girardeau, Missouri, was formed. Its first draft, in 1993, met with so much dis-approval that it was promptly rejected as too juridical. Father Terry Toland, former president of St. Joseph's University, was enlisted, as director of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops' Committee to Review and Implement the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecdesiae, to compose a more acceptable draft. After exten-sive conversations with bishops and presidents all across the coun-try, he presented a new draft to the bishops' conference in November 1996; it passed 224 to 6. September- October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecdesiae By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridical ordinances. The document did not have any juridical elements and, instead, spoke of "trust between university and church authorities, close and consistent collaboration, and continuing dialogue" (Hellwig, pp. 34-35). A concession that Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua had received enabled the document to pass overwhelmingly. Canon 812, which contains the requirement that theologians get a man-date from the local bishop, had been completely removed from consideration even though it was in Ex corde ecclesiae. Now it was simply mentioned in footnote 7 as a point that "would be the sub-ject of further study" (Hellwig, pp. 35-36). By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridi-cal ordinances. The sacred congregation specifically asked that canon 812 be con-sidered no~v, along with the "requirement that presidents and theology teachers make the profession of faith and take the oath of fidelity that canon law requires of chui'ch officials" (Hellwig, p. 36). Back at the drawing board, Bishop Leibrecht appointed a sub-committee headed by Cardinal Bevilacqua and composed of canon lawyers. Their proposal, which restored juridical elements to the document, Was presented for discussion at the bishops' annual meeting in November 1998. It caused problems. Archbishop Rembert Weakland, of Milwaukee, proposed that the bishops reject the juridical app.roach and send once again the 1996 proposal that called only for trust, collaboration, and continuing dialogue. This was seconded by the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities (ACCU) in February 1999, but the idea never suc-ceeded. In April 1999 Monika Hellwig, representing ACCU, and Charles Currie SJ, former rector of the Jesuit community at St. Joseph's University and now head of the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities (AJCU), went to Rome to press their views with the Congregation for Catholic Education and, back in the United States, continued to lobby the bishops here. Review for Religious In June 1999 the American bishops met to review all the com-ments made on the third draft. The subcommittee met again in September to work on a fourth draft. This was presented at the annual fall meeting in Washington in November 1999. Again ACCU and AJCU lobbied strongly to get the bishops to reject.the docu-ment, which needed a two-thirds majority to pass, and they felt they might succeed. But this document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was overwhelmingly approved by a vote of 223-31 with one abstention. "Application" went to Rome for approval by the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, whose new head was Archbishop Giuseppe Pittau SJ, and by the Council for the Interpretation of Legal Documents. It was returned recently with approval and only minor modifications. On 1 June 2000 the American bishops indicated that "Application" will go into effect in this country on 3 May 2001, one year after it was approved by the Congregation for Bishops in Rome. Let us now discuss the theology operating in both Ex come ecclesiae and "An Application to the United States" and then discuss the issues of contention. Theological Justification for Ex Corde Ecclesiae The title of the apostolic constitution Ex corde ecdesiae (From the heart of the church) suggests the whole story. The document's position is that Catholic universities exist as an integral part of the life of the church. The document says, "Every Catholic uni-versity., has a relationship to the church that is essential to its institutional identity" (§27). As such, the Catholic university shares in the mission of the church and is governed, like any other Catholic entity, by the local bishop and through him by the mag-isterium of the universal church. Its specific mission as a univer-sity, says Ex corde ecclesia.e, is "a continuous quest for truth through its research, and the preservatign and communication of knowledge for the good of society" (§30), but this mission as a university can never be separated from its larger mission (shared by all members of the Christian community) to deepen the presence of Christ in the world (§16). One of the roles of the university, according to Ex corde eccle-siae, is to "promote dialogue between faith and reason" so that the world becomes ever more aware of the "unity of all truth" (§ 17). Accordingly, the university's quest for truth and the promotion of September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecdesiae the dignity of human persons can never be separated from the vision of Truth that comes through revelation and is made known by the church through the magisterium's teaching "in matters of faith and morals" (§27). The goal of Catholic universities is there-fore to be of service both to the church and to society. This it does as a university by being an "instrument of cultural progress for individuals as well as for society"; but as a Catholic university it must also serve the church in the "development of a true Christian anthropology founded on the person of Christ" (§§32-33). Most of the critics of Ex corde ecclesiae argue, ~s we have seen as early as the Land O'Lakes statement in 1967, that Catholic uni-versities must enjoy "a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or clerical, external to the academic community itself" (Gallin, p. 7). As the document "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento" asserted in 1969 and as was repeatedly urged by many Catholic educators thereafter, the theologian "must be able to pursue his discipline in the same manner as other research scholars," and have his work evaluated only by his peers "as is the case in other disciplines" (Gallin, p. 20). Autonomy here is understood as freedom from restraints of any kind external to the discipline. The church's perspective is quite different. If the university is Catholic, the university's autonomy includes the church. Thus, whereas critics argue that the bishop's governance constitutes an external constraint upon the life of the university, Ex corde ecclesiae argues that, "even when they do not enter directly into the inter-nal governance of the university, bishops 'should be seen not as external agents but as participants in the life of the Catholic uni-versity'" (§28) because the university is part of the life of the church. "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States" (1999) expresses an even richer and deeper theological foundation for the integration of the university into the life of the church. Based on the teaching of Vatican II, "Application" argues from an "ecclesi-ology of communion" that the "church is made up of individual faithful and communities linked with one another [and with the tri-une God] through many active ecclesial relationships." The "dynamic of communion," according to "Application," unites on a deeper level "the various communities in the church" through which her "mission of salvation" operates. "The Catholic univer-sity is [seen] as a vital institution in the communion of the church and [as] 'a primary and privileged place for a fruitful dialogue Review for Religious between the gospel and culture.'" This "richness of communion" brings out the "complementary teaching roles of bishops and Catholic universities." Each has its own "distinctive autonomous nature and goal," but in the unity of communion they "are joined as complementary activities," embracing both the pastoral work of bishops and the academic work of Catholic universities, thus linking the bishops' right and obligation to communicate and safeguard the integrity of church doctrine with the right and obligation of Catholic universities to investigate, analyze, and communicate all truth freely. Thus the Catholic university as such has a "twofold relationship"-- one to the "international community of knowledge," the other to the church--"of guaranteeing in institutional form a .Christian presence in the university world" (Part 1, II and III). Issues of Contention Now I mention some of the issues of contention that these two documents address: 1. Ex corde ecclesiae states under its General Norms that all Catholic universities must conform their governin.g statutes to the general norms listed in Ex corde ecclesiae and must submit these statutes "for approval to the competent ecclesiastical authority" (II, Art. 1, no. 3) This could be seen by some presidents as a major violation of the autonomy of the university and, if implemented, as a matter for litigation. 2. Ex corde ecclesiae states that university administrators are to be recruited who "are both willing and able to promote., or at least to respect" the "Catholic identity of the university" (II, Art. 4, nos. 1-2). "Application" goes even further, saying that "the uni-versity president should be a Catholic" (Part 2, Art. 4, 3a). But, since "Application" says '!should be" and not "must be," the imple-mentation will depend upon how rigorously the local bishops wish to enforce it. 3. The same applies to boards of trustees. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, the board members must be informed of their respon-sibility to promote or respect the Catholic identity; but in "Application" the norm says further: "To the extent possible, the majority of the board should be Catholics committed to the church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 2b). Note again that the norm, while being September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae more rigorous, demands implementation only "to the extent pos-sible," which leaves room for exceptions. The critical issue here, however, is how to determine whether a Catholic is "committed to the church." Though this phrase is not as vague as the original "faithful Catholic" requirement, it does not offer any precise way of measurement. 4. When the university president assumes office, according to "Application," the "Catholic should express his or her commit-ment to the university's Catholic identity and to the Catholic faith in accordance with canon 833, 7°'' (which states that the rector of a Catholic university, upon assuming that office, is "obliged per-sonally to make a profession of faith" to the local bishop or his delegate). If the president is not a Catholic, a "commitment to the university's Catholic mission and identity" is required (17 November 1999 "Application" [Origins 29, no. 25, 2 December 1999], Part 2, Art. 4, 3a, and endnote 36). These norms will seem unduly rigorous to many presidents and a violation of institutional autonomy. 5. "All professors are expected to be aware of and committed to the Catholic mission and identity of their institutions" ("Application," Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). This obviously will create fear among non-Catholic instructors, who will see this as a violation of academic freedom and a matter that could be used to deny tenure. 6. According to the "Application" of 1999, "the university should strive to recruit and appoint Catholics as professors so that, to the extent possible, those committed to the witness of the faith will constitute a majority of the faculty" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). Notice again the more rigorous norm, but with the qualifier "to the extent possible" and with the problem of how to measure commitment. On the one hand, the qualifier provides an opening--it does not have to be enforced; on the other hand, the requirement for com-mitment leaves open the possibility of arbitrary interpretation. 7. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, "all Catholic teachers are to be faithful to, and all other teachers are to respect, Catholic doc-trine and morals in their research and teaching" (II, Art. 4, no. 3). Again, many say this is a violation of academic freedom and that it will frighten nonconformist Catholic instructors and non- Catholic instructors who have unorthodox moral viewpoints from joining Catholic faculties: 8. Ex corde ecclesiae grants that "freedom in research and teach-ing" is proper to scholarly activity, but adds: "so long as the rights Review for Religious of the individual and of the community are preserved within the confines of the truth and the common good" (II, Art. 2, no. 5). For secular scholars, freedom is restricted only by the rules of one's discipline; for the church, freedom is conditioned by the truth as made known in the revelation of God in the Scriptures, tradition, and the teaching of the magisterium (II, Art. 2, no. 5; Art. 4, no. 3). 9. Probably the most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. Both documents declare that all those teach-ing "theological disciplines" must receive a "mandate" or "mandaturn''8 from him. This was the sticking point already in Ex corde ecclesiae, where canon 812 is cited in a foot-note (II, Art. 4, no. 3 and endnote 50). "Application" states even more strongly, in the body of the document and not simply in a footnote, canon 812: "Catholics who teach the theological disciplines are required to have a mandatum granted by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e). The "mandaturn" is explained as "a tech-nical term referring to the juridical expression of the ecclesial rela-tionship of communion that exists between the church and the Catholic teacher of a theological discipline in the Catholic uni-versity" ("Application," endnote 41). The mandaturn acknowledges that the Catholic professor "is a teacher within the full communion of the Catholic Church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 1). It "recognizes the professor's commitment and responsibility to teach authentic Catholic doctrine and to refrain from putting forth as Catholic teaching anything contrary to the church's magisterium" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 3). The declaration that the professor will teach in com-munion with the church is to "be expressed by the profession of faith and oath of fide!ity or in any other reasonable manner accept-able to the one issuing the rnandaturn" (endnote 42). The manda-turn "should be given in writing" and "remains in effect wherever and as long as the professor teaches unless and until withdrawn by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, c and b). Nothing is stated about what would happen if a theologian does not ask for or receive the rnandaturn or loses it. The justification for the The most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. September-October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecclesiae mandatum "is grounded in the right and responsibility of bishops to safeguard the faithful teaching of Catholic doctrine to the peo-ple of God and to assure the authentic presentation of the church's magisterium" (endnote 41). Conclusion Why are Ex corde ecdesiae and its "Application to the United States" causing so much excitement in higher-education circles? Ex corde ecclesiae originally received favorable press from Catholic educators because it restored to consciousness the importance of maintaining Catholic identity in our schools. Whereas in the 1970s and 1980s we were affirming that our schools were in the Catholic (and Jesuit) tradition, implying a certain aloofness from that tradition, now, in this new era that stresses individuality and uniqueness,, stressing our Catholic (and Jesuit) identity is in vogue. The problem comes with dictating what precisely constitutes this identity. The Vatican wants a juridical relationship that demands that this identity include communion with the Catholic Church and fidelity to its teachings. Opponents want this identity to come from a more attenuated relationship to the church, allow-ing for great latitude, great freedom, of thought and action. This is nothing more than an expression of the deep division con-stantly being expressed in Catholicism today between those who understand their Catholic identity to include conformity to the teachings of the church and those who do not. And so it is pre-cisely the juridical aspect of "Application" that is at the center of the controversy. Thus, since Vatican II, Catholic higher education has taken two roads: (1) toward greater integration into the life of the church and conformity to the church's teachings and (2) toward greater separation from dcclesiastical control, with Catholic iden-tity determined by individual criteria and self-regulation. Ultimately what is at issue here is the role of the church in mod-ern Catholic life. Notes ~ See Philip Gleason, Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), esp. pp. 12-17 and 318-322. Gleason summarizes Modernism this way: "Modernism has been described as a many-faceted effort to accom-modate Catholic teaching to the 'collective change in mentality' taking Review for Religious place in the late nineteenth century, and it raised new questions about many aspects of Catholic doctrine. Among the more serious were ques-tions dealing with 'the nature of revelation, of biblical inspiration, and of religious knowledge, the personality of Christ and his true role in the origins of the church and of its sacraments, the nature and function of the living tradition on the Catholic system and the limits of dogmatic evo-lution, the authority of the church's magisterium and the real import of the concept of orthodoxy, [and] the value of the classical apologetic" (Gleason, p. 12, brackets in the original; citing Roger Aubert et al., The Church in a Secularized Society, Vol. 5 of The Christian Centuries [New York: Paulist Press, 1978], p. 191). 2 See Alice Gallin OSU, ed., American Catholic Higher Education: Essential Documents, 1967-1990 (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1992), p. 2; and James L. Heft SM, "Have Catholic Colleges Reached an Impasse?" Chronicle of Higher Education 46, no. 2 (12 November 1999): B6-B7. 3Monika K. Hellwig, "The American Catholic University and the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecclesiae," Current Issues in Catholic Higher Education 20, no. 1 (Fall 1999): 21-40 at 21. 4John Paul II, "Ex corde ecclesiae: The Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities," Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990): 265-276; from CNS's marginal background data, 267-272 at 268. 5 David J. O'Brien, "The Land O'Lakes Statement," Boston College Magazine 58, no. 1 (Winter 1998): 38-45 at 39. 6Oral conversation in spring 1999 with Rev. Paul C. Reinert SJ, then (1967) president of Saint Louis University, who was at the meeting. 7 "Land O'Lakes Statement: The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," Gallin, pp. 7-12 at 7. 8 "Application" uses the Latin "mandatum." Post-Vatican II Statements on Catholic Higher Education 1967: Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin: North American Regional Meeting of the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). Its doc-ument, "The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," asserts "institutional autonomy" and "academic freedom" as essential to Catholic universities. 1968: Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo: Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1969: Rome: International Congress of Delegates of Catholic Universities. Its document, "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento," names four essential characteristics of a Catholic university. 1972: Rome: 2nd International Congress of the Sacred Congregation September-October 2000 Tri~ole ¯ Ex Gorde Eccle~iae for Catholic Education (SCCE) and IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1973: Rome: Plenary Assembly of the SCCE. Letter from Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of SCCE, directing improvements of the 1972 doc-ument. 1979: Vatican: Sapientia Christiana, apostolic constitution for "pontifi-cal" institutions. 1983: Rome: Code of Canon Law (1983), canons 807-814 regarding uni-versities. Canon 812: Catholic theologians required to have "mandate" from local ecclesiastical authority. 1985: Rome: SCCE. Its document is called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities." 1990: Vatican: Ex Corde Ecclesiae: Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities. In Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990). 1993: Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). Its document is the first draft of "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States." In Origins 23, no. 27 (16 December 1993). 1996: Washington: NCCB. Second and "final" draft passed 224-6 and was sent to Rome. In Origins 26, no. 24 (28 November 1996). 1997: Rome: SCCE rejects this "first" draft; requires juridical ordinances; subcommittee is formed to draft a new document. 1998: Washington: NCCB. Third draft is discussed but not voted on. In Origins 28, no. 25 (3 .December 1998). 1999: Washington: NCCB. Its document, the fourth draft of the sub-committee's "Application," requiring a mandatum, passed 223-31-I, was sent to Rome and accepted by Rome with a few minor changes. See Origins 29, no. 25 (2 December 1999) and Origins 30, no. 5 (15 June 2000). Two authors who appeared in our last issue went to God before it went to press: Sister Bernadine Pieper CHM, on 20 February 2000, one day before her eighty-second birthday, and Father Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB, on 17 May 2000, at seventy-six years of age. Let us remember them and their communities in prayer. Review for Religious STAN PARMISANO Theology Lived in Faith Back in 1966 the Dominican School in Berkeley, California, was inaugurated, the first Catholic seminary within the Graduate Theological Union (GTU). The Dominican master gen-eral, Aniceto Fernfindez, was present for the grand occasion. He outlined for the public at large the projected purpose of the school? It was to be a community of study, research, and teaching in dialogue with the other faiths of the union and the university. It was to be ecumenical in the widest sense, embracing not only other Christian churches but other religions and no religion as well. The master general, like some before and many since, saw California, the State of California, as the most fitting place for ecumenical study. It was the Western world, but looking to the East. He said that California "is the society of the future. Here the changes which all society eventually will face are already tak-ing place. And here the problems which the new social situation will create for eve/Tone are already manifest." It was, he said, for the religious community to enter into dialogue with all who were confronting these problems and trying to solve them. This projected endeavor was not to be a matter of mind only but of life. It was to be a theology out of life experience and toward life's betterment. So the master general emphasized the contem-plative foundation of the school. He did not in his formal address spell out for the general public precisely what he meant by "the contemplative," but to Dominicans listening to a Dominican his Stan Parmisano OP wrote for us in the early 1970s and in the late 1980s. This article of his was a recent commencement address. His address is Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith meaning was clear enough: the school was to be grounded not just on contemplative prayer, prayer that quietly listens for the Lord, but on the contemplative life, living with and for the Lord. Later, in his visitation report to the Western Dominicans as a whole, he made this quite explicit.2 His directive reads: "A new priorial house is to be established at Berkeley in which there is to be the perfect Dominican life of regular [religious] observance." With this in place, "the fathers assigned there are to be ded-icated to higher and ecumenical studies." Emphasis upon the con-templative religious life of which study was both part and product was no innovation on the part of Father Fernfindez. It was the tradition of the Dominican order from its beginnings, perhaps more in the breach than in full observance, but it was the ideal that Dominicans were to be held to. They were not only to think their theology but live it, and live it antecedently to their think-ing it. It was out of a life centered upon God that thought about God and the things of God was to emerge. That was some thirty years ago. Today's theologians also come to thought out of their life experience, but often it is experience of the human dimension that has priority. God is there, but off to the side or hidden away under the human, or inhuman, situation-- as is frequently the fact in our contemporary world. It is by being immersed in a given time and place, by living the life of particu-lar assemblages of people, that we come to know them and their special problems and so can begin to theologize about them. The more traditional theology--that which, true to its name, has God (theos) as its object and center--also demands experience of the human, though more of the divine; but, if the human, the divine within it, which makes it truly human and keeps it so. It observes the priority of the Scriptures: "In the beginning God." and "In the beginning was the Word."; the priority of the decalogue and the gospel's summation of it (God first, self and neighbor second); the priority in prayer as Jesus taught it (first, recognition of the Father and his holiness, then the speaking of our needs); the pri-ority set by Jesus for his own life (he was the man for others, but first among others was his Father). Though Jesus was marvelously human, he was much more wonderfully divine. People, yes, but as beloved of God and in their deepest heart yearning for God! The human situation, yes, but as measured by the divine! Creation, yes again; but as issuing from, held by, and continually moving back to its Creator! Living with Re~i~ for Religio~s God as he is in himself, and searching him out as he is immanent in creation, we come to share his view of the world, what he wants and expects of us, not just what we and our world expect and want for ourselves. So the master general in 1966, so the whole of Dominican tradition! The school has changed through the thirty years of its exis-tence. It is not now just a school by and for Dominicans. It has embraced other traditions, whether lay or religious, and looks to profit from the variety of its membership as well as contribute to those involved with it. But what must at all costs be maintained is its initial fundamental principle that thought about God--theol-ogy- must bud from a life rooted in God, whether that life takes on a specifically Dominican character or another of a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Other great religions besides Christianity are in agreement. For Buddha, anyone who is content to know the ultimate Reality only theoretically, or merely by hearsay, is like a herdsman of others' cows. For Mohammed, the person who thinks about Allah without having really experienced him is just an ass bearing a load of books. These words resonate with the begin-nings of Christian thinking: it was only because the Apostles and early disciples lived with Christ, ate, drank, and spoke with him, listened to him, touched and were touched by him, that they were able to secure the proper theological foundation of the church. Basic to this life with God and consequent study of God and the things of God is, of course,faith, faith in the sense of creed, the body of revealed truths that become the first principles of Christian theology, but also faith as the God-given virtue or power within us by which we actually accept these revelations and see in and beyond them to God himself. Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. Due objection may be raised to my use of the terms "see" and "know" in relation to the divine and to faith, for God is the hid-den one, the unknown and unknowable, and faith is traditionally opposed to seeing. "We walk by faith, not by sight," says St. Paul (2 Co 5:7); and in Hebrews 11:I we find faith defined as "the con-viction [or evidence] of things unseen." If one should object that, as Jesus himself said (Jn 20:29), the Apostle Thomas believed because he had seen ("You believe, Thomas, because you have seen"), Aquinas, in good Christian tradition, glosses that what Thomas "saw" was not the divinity of Christ, but only his human-ity. Seeing this, he was then able to believe in Christ's divinity September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith (Summa Theologiae, 2a-2ae, 1, 4 ad I). Eastern religions are just as emphatic concerning the unknowability of the divine: "The ignorant," the Third Upanishad declares, "think that Brahman [God] is known, but the wise know him to be beyond knowledge.''3 A whole body of wisdom old and young suggests, however, that things are not quite so negative. The text from the Upanishad just quoted is preceded by this: "One truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge." And it is followed by: "Through knowledge of Brahman comes power. Through knowledge of Brahman comes victory over death." Apparently Brahman can be known at the same time he is not known. There is similar ambi-guity in St. Paul. For him, faith is of the unseen, yet he can also say regarding our experience of God: "We see now darkly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12). We see "darkly," but we do see. Aquinas, like St. Paul here, though firm as to our inability to know or see God in this life, concedes some slight knowledge of God to be possible, even for the ungraced rational mind, and, in question after question in Part 1 of his Summa Theologiae, he lavishly and beautifully demonstrates his point. He also places the virtue of faith primarily in the intellect, the knowing faculty. Faith, for him, though of the unknown and unseen, is an intel-ligent act (ST 2a-2ae, 4, 2). For St. John of the Cross, God is the Nada, Nothing, the Night, but a far cry from that opaque night and nothingness prayed to by one of Ernest Hemingway's faith-less souls: "Our Nada who art in Nada, Nada be thy Nada . " St. John's night and nothingness is rather luminous and fully alive, "a night," he says, "which guided me, more surely than the light of noonday, / to the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me." "Well I knew who!" Knowledge of the one he did not know! The ambiguity may be resolved when we consider that God is darkness not to the total human understanding, but only to one level of it, that is, to the mind as we, in Western, and now in Eastern tradition infected by the West, generally and narrowly regard it: rational consciousness, the discursive self-directive mind. But there are other levels, just as present to us and perhaps more continuously operative. "O the mind, mind has mountains," wrote Gerard Manley Hopkins, overwhelmed at the sight of them. And Freud and Jung with their myriad disciples spent lifetimes explor-ing and categorizing them into conscious, unconscious, subcon-scious, superconscious mind. The great religions of the world have Review for Religious long since known of them, as Aldous Huxley suggests in his sum-mation of the second of our tenets held in common by them: "Human beings are capable not merely of knowing aboz~t the Divine Ground by inference; they can also realize its existence by a direct intuition, superior to discursive reasoning. This immediate knowl-edge unites the knower with that which is known.''4 Much of both sacred and profane literature speaks of these alternative modes of knowing. There is the Atman of Hindu literature, the Self with a capital S, which is identified with Brahman, the transcendent God, now inter-nalized: when one knows, one is conscious of oneself as knowing, but within oneself and out of sight it is Brahman himself as Atman who is the knower. The Tenth Upanishad says: "Unseen, but the seer; unheard, but the hearer; unthinkable, but the thinker; unknown, but the knower--there is no seer but he, there is no hearer but he. there is no knower but he. He, the Self, is the Inner Ruler, the Immortal."s This seems not much different, really, from the Catholic Christian conception of grace, which is the very life of God become our own, such that God's knowing becomes ours, his loving becomes ours--God liv-ing and knowing and loving in, with, and through us, making no sense to those who think only in terms of conscious thought and of Christianity as a matter of mere morality or of a distant love (God up there, I down here), but making the best of sense to those listening to Christ himself as he prays "that all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you. I pray that they may be [one] in us ¯. that your love for me may live in them, and I may live in them" (Jn 17:20-21, 26). The operative word~ here are "one" and "in," which struck St. Paul so forcefully, leading to his preaching of the Mystical Body, and which led g~eat theologians like Augustine and Aquinas and many Christian mystics to see God as closer to us than we to ourselves. Out of this source of knowing--God's in mine, mine in God's--comes knowledge of the Unknowable. Blaise Pascal, who was much enamored of the conscious, dis-cursive mind and in fact was one of the world's great mathemati-cians, finally realized--through an experience of what he took to be God--a higher dimension of knowing and gave it classical Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. September-October 2000 Parmisano * Theology Lived in Faith expression: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know." John Keats in one of his best poems sings of another level of "hear-ing" besides the sensual and the rational: "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard / Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; / Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, / Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone." T.S. Eliot takes up the same thought and deepens and expands it. He speaks of "music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all but you are the music while the music lasts." The frustrated child psychologist in Peter Shaffer's Equus, after dabbling in religion with purely rational conscious knowing, in the end cries for another kind of knowledge: "I need more des-perately than my children need me a way of seeing in the dark." And on and on. The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of non-rational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. It is this graced ele-ment of true vision that not only begins our theologizing, but is meant to run all through it, to guide and direct it, and at the end of the process to be itself expanded and deepened. Theology is not a castle built upon air, not a rational structure erected on fig-ments of blind faith that a defensive apologetics thinks it has bol-stered effectively from without. Faith is not a blind act, it is seeing. And so theology is intellective from top to bottom, a seeing or understanding all the way. Doubt and questioning will be there, even apparent rejection of my faith, but these may be only on the level of my conscious mind, leaving my deeper, inexpressible vision steady and intact. This all-pervasiveness of faith in theology has its counterpart in fine works of art, and may be better understood by considering them. If we limit our examples to the art of literature, we may cite the great Dante Alighieri, a man of prodigious faith and high consciousness, an ardent lover of rational, deliberative thought, though with a poetic instinct that could move beyond the rationally intelligible to sight, vision (fantasia) of something more. What makes his masterwork, the Divine Comedy, a great poem? Some critics have seen in it high poetic moments, but have denied its poetic character as a whole. They found too much that is unspon-taneous, deliberative, and therefore "unpoetic" about it: an over-all schema minutely worked out with mathematical precision, detailed scholastic argumentation, seemingly pointless disquisi-tions in an archaic science, crude and crass descriptions, and mat-ter- of-fact excursions into the politics of the day. Dante, some Review for Religious have suggested, would have been a better poet had he been less a philosopher. But such criticisms have been found wanting. There is something that runs all through that long poem, giving life and beauty to each of its parts, some of which in themselves may be mere prose, but in Dante's broad context are poetry. We can sort out the various elements: the story, the detailed and balanced schema, the theme and characters, the dialogue, the philosophy and theology that it incorporates and expresses, the imagery, the language, the music. But the poetry here is none of the above by itself or collectively. Rather it is the unconscious, unformu-latable vision that brought all these ele-ments into being, drew them all together in a wondrous unity, and remains within the poem seducing the listener into it. And within this overall vision the philosophy, the rational dis-course, rather than detracting from the poem, enhances it, giving it depth and breadth. Dante turns out to be a better poet precisely because he is much of a philosopher besides. So, too, in theology and preaching, all sorts of things are thought and said, but, if all is as it should be, each element springs out of and terminates in this dynamic underground river of under-standing, of faith. The conscious elements are there, but only to help the conscious mind grasp something of unconscious faith and deepen and broaden our experience of it. T.S. Eliot says: "We had the experience [faith] but missed the meaning, / And approach to the meaning [theology] restores the experience / In a different form, beyond any meaning / We can assign to happiness." It is the same for life as a whole. What was it, for instance, that held that remarkable little theologian St~ Th4r~se of Lisieux so tenaciously to God, to one she knew to be God and loved as such? It was not stubbornness or fanaticism or mere habit. Her writ-ings, the testimony of those who lived with her, and all the hard and minute ecclesiastical scrutiny of her life argue to the contrary. Anyone who reads her, especially her last letters and conversa-tions, must know it was some kind of vision that held her every moment of her life--but not a vision, finally, of conscious human perception or reflection. Conscious thought seemed, rather, to get in the way in those last days, and she experienced darkness as The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of nonrational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. Septentber-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith she tried to think about and pray to God, experiencing temptations against her faith. But under the darkness, penetrating through it to the light, was vision properly so designated, like the ability that eyes and rational intelligence have; though she herself scarcely knew with her conscious mind that it was there. It is life lived in and through this vision of faith that must per-meate and illuminate all study and creativity with respect to the divine. If this life is not there, we end up with a distortion of God and world. But, if it is, we can hopefully come to know God with God's own knowledge while experiencing as our own something of his perception of the world and of his compassion and redeem-ing activity for it. Notes i Father Fernfindez's address at the inaugural banquet at the Claremont Hotel, Berkeley, is printed in Season (Winter 1966): 197- 202. The address together with the foundation of the school is briefly dis-cussed in my history, Mission West: The Western Dominican Province, 18Y0-1966 (Oakland, California, 1997), pp. 409-418. 2 The visitation report is in the Western Dominican Archives, Xl:110(A). ¯ ¯ 3 As in The Upanishads: Breath of the Eternal, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Frederick Manchester (New York: New American Library, 1960), p. 31. 4 Aldous Huxley's introduction to The Song of God: Bhagavad-Gita, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood (New York: New American Library, 1955), p. 13. s The Upanishads, p. 96. Monks' Chant The rhythm of the chant, like quiet waves upon the sea, rocks my soul to peace. Maxine Inkel SL Review for Religious MATTHEW EGGEMEIER Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Generation Xers are an elusive and diverse genera-tion. It is a difficult task to pinpoint representative characteristics of a generation that spans twenty years. As a whole, Generation X embodies a myriad of char-acteristics, some of these quite different and some even diametrically opposed. As a member of this so-called Generation X and as one who is giving reli-gious life serious thought, I want to offer some reflections on Generation X literature and what reli-gious life looks like to me and at least some other members of my generation. Generation X is the cohort of those who were born between 1961 and 1981. The X stands for demogra-phers' inability to typify this generation by any single trend or belief. Demographers characterize Xers' lives as unstable, fragmented, secularized, and uncommit-ted. In general, Xers lack a solid formation in the church's teachings and often lack any strong sense of Catholic identity, an identity that was more present and important to preceding generations. Some researchers claim that Xers are the first generation to grow up in a post-Christian America, a situation affect-religious identity Matthew T. Eggemeier is a senior majoring in religious studies at the University of Dayton. His address is 4428 Parklawn Drive; Kettering, Ohio 45440. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life ing the sociology and the psychology of Xers, particularly with respect to their attitudes toward religion. When attempting to describe Xers, some writers err, I believe, by absolutizing certain characteristics while ignoring others. Sometimes I have read that individuals within my gener-ation are leaving the church in droves. At other times I have read that Xers have great reverence for the church and the pope. I believe that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of these con-trary positions. Lilly Endowment recently published some findings about Generation X Catholics. In the study the authors state that, on the whole, Xer Catholics neither reject the institutional church nor are right of center with respect to it. Moreover, the authors say that Xers are far from "monolithic" and that any attempt to lump together their behaviors inevitably leads to an inaccurate generalization. These findings resonate with my own limited experience of my generation. I think it important that I briefly introduce myself and give the reader a betteridea of who I am. I am a twenty-two-year-old senior at the University of Dayton double-majoring in reli-gious studies and psychology. I was brought up in an upper-middle-class family in a suburb just outside of Dayton. I have two older brothers, one of whom is giving serious thought to entering a monastery. My mother is a sixth-grade teacher. My father is a professor of psychology who considered entering an active order out of high school. They have deeply held religious convictions that they lovingly imparted to their children. I have found support from both my parents and my brothers when I have expressed interest in religious life. In some respects I feel that my upbringing has been atypical in relation to many other Xers. Many have had life experiences that differ from mine, and I have observed a number of trends among them: secularization, isolation, instability, and postpone-ment of commitment. As I describe these trends, I will present what I think religious orders might do in response to them. While I do not presume to speak for all of my generation, I do know that I speak for some of us. Although the focus of this article per-tains to religious life as lived in an active order, some of the ideas may be useful to all religious looking for possible vocations. First and foremost, we Xers have grown up in a secularized culture, a culture that avoids outward expression of religious con- Review for Religious victions, a social climate in which religion has been removed from everyday life. Religion might govern one's personal rela-tionship with God, but it rarely affects one's entire lifestyle. Often I sense that others in my own peer group feel an uneasiness when religion or God is brought up as a topic of conversation. One's sex life is more readily discussed than one's religious beliefs. On the other hand, for those of us Xers who have deep religious con-victions and feel drawn to the church, outward expression of this conviction is an integral but muted aspect of our experience. We do not want to keep our religious beliefs hidden within us as though they were something we are embarrassed about or ashamed of. We want to share and express the deep joy and love that we have found in religion, but have a hard time doing so, given the nature of our secularized culture. I consider it essential, therefore, that religious trying to attract Xers not water down their commitment or disappear in secular culture. Forms of outward religious expres-sion can be attractive to Xers who see this as a witness to the sacred in the midst of a desacralized culture. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger.1 In part, this hunger derives from living in a desacralized and secularized world. When this deep hunger for religious meaning has not been satisfied within the religious practice of families, many of us have looked outside of the traditional familial practices to come into contact with the transcendent meaning that we crave. Xers often come from broken homes and fragmented family lives that have not provided us with a stable sense of community and mean-ing. When we see, then, a community whose focus is the Ultimate, we see a unique and attractive lifestyle. The stability of solid community life, the focus of which is Christ, can be a refreshing change from the transient and fragmented lifestyles that have been the experience of many Xers. When speaking about the possibility of a vocation with one Of my friends who was brought up in a divorced family, I was told that, for her, one of the most attractive features of religious life is the stability of community life and its constant search for meaning. Just like many other Xers, her upbringing lacked consistent and stable familial relationships--and the meaning that one derives from such relationships. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life Religious life can offer an Xer an insight into the meaning of life and death, but, more importantly, it offers the opportunity to live out this insight through the everyday structures and sup-ports of religious life. Religion offers meaning in abundance, but religious life is special in providing everyday community practices that foster spiritual growth in ways that are difficult to find on one's own. Many of my friends desire to incorporate God more deeply into their daily lives. It is a struggle, though, to follow through with this desire, given the hustle and bustle of every-day life and the relatively little support we receive in this regard from our peers. In other words, we understand that Christ should be the central meaning of life, but have trouble trans-lating this reality into a daily practice. Religious life offers Xers a lifestyle that is already centered on Christ and a disci-plined life that revolves around him and his work. As I see it, the main purpose of religious life is to cultivate a life lived in Christ and for others. Another reason that Xers have for looking into religious life is our craving for a strong community life. We have grown up in a society that has become increasingly isolated and individual-ized as a result of the growing affluence and the expanding tech-nologies. We live in an environment in which we can be entertained for hours by television, movies, and the Internet, pursuits which require no interpersonal contact. One of the most commonly found features of Generation X is its sense of isolation and its yearning for stable companionship and community. Contemporary families have become self-sufficient and isolated. They seldom have a strong sense of community support, which was once prevalent. Xers have to look elsewhere to find or rebuild the support system of faith and community that has been absent in their own families. We Xers are drawn wherever we feel wel-come and find friendship. In a society that is increasingly hostile towards ~he notion of community and continues to promote indi-vidualism, we desire friendships and a sense of connectedness. Religious orders with strong community life and ritualized com-munity practices and prayer are quite attractive to us because this lifestyle cannot be found in the secular world. We have trou-ble finding within our peer group a support community for our faith development. A religious order that has a strong community life focused on supporting one another in faith development, holiness, and service of God is a refreshing change. Review for Religious When I first began discerning several years ago, I lived with a religious community for one week, basically living their lifestyle. The entire day seemed to support what was most important to me--to be aware of God's presence, do his will, and to serve him through prayer and action. For me, and I pi-esume for many other Xers, the community life that religious life offers is an attractive quality, offering companionship and the opportunity for growth in prayer, service, and holiness; but we do not want a community just to comfort us and give us a sense of security. We want to be stretched and challenged to serve God and others with the com-munity life serving as a support that allows us to reach beyond ourselves in the service of God through prayer and works. Another characteristic of Xers is postponement of com-mitment. 2 For a generation that has seen promises broken again and again, commitment is a very serious matter, and so we hes-itate a lot. An average Xer has been close to large numbers of parental divorces and seen countless images of broken com-mitments via television and other electronic media portrayed as acceptable ways of living. Because we have seeri the fiche nature of modern lifestyles, we want something that will endure. We are determined not to make the same mistakes as the pre-ceding generations. Another reason for postponement of commitment with Xers is that we have in front of us a rich array of opportunities that, for the most part, were unavailable to earlier generations. The age for entering marriage, making a career choice, and choosing a religious vocation has gradually risen in a society that offers such a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Previous generations, I am told, saw the commitment to religious life as a noble choice and legitimate path to holiness, one that many-made directly out of high school. Today this choice is seen as countercultural. What is more, we have learned that there are many paths to holiness. When choosing the religious lifestyle, previous generations often found support from their friends and parents. Today, in most instances, this countercultural decision is supported neither by friends nor parents. Just recently I read an article in which a mother of a semi-narian documented the mixed signals she received when she told friends and acquaintances of her son's decision to become a priest. The reactions varied from bewilderment as to why he would want to do such a thing to outright opposition to his decision. Septenlber- October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life One person asked her if she thought that her son would stay. The mother was upset by this question. She found herself think-ing that, at the wedding of her friend's daughter, she herself would likely not ask her friend if she thought her daughter's mar-riage would last. Another parent told her that they had talked their son out of wanting to become a priest when he had dis-cussed it. Unfortunately, I think these viewpoints are indicative of what many Catholics think of a young man considering reli-gious life or the priesthood. Supporting this anecdotal evidence is a 1997 CARA survey which showed that 3 in 10 youths had considered a vocation, but only 2 in 10 of the parents supported their child's interest) As a consequence of our l~ack of cultural and parental support, we Generation Xers might typically take much longer to realize that this is our true calling. We would definitely benefit from having people close to us encouraging us in our consideration of enter-ing religious life. Another form of support would be vocation groups where several of us interested in religious life meet with one another, socialize, and discuss issues relevant to our dis-cernment. Two conclusions can be drawn from these observations for religious communities trying to attract new vocations. First, since as a generation we receive so little support from our friends and parents when considering religious life, it is very important that religious communities develop friendships with us that nurture growth in faith and commitment to God. Here I want to review some findings of a CARA survey on the role of invitation into the priesthood. New research has shown that the most important factor in young people's choosing a vocation is a personal invi-tation from a religious to join.4 A statement quoted in the arti-cle has the number of invitations gradually going down in recent years. Bishop Paul Loverde explains that "during the sixties the percentage of diocesan priests who actively encouraged boys to enter the seminary dropped from 64 percent to 33 percent and, for religious order priests, from 56 percent to 27 percent, and these figures have not changed over the last three decades." In the CARA survey, only 18 percent of youths active in their parish life had been personally invited to consider the priest-hood. Clearly, an integral component of attracting Xers to reli-gious life has substantially decreased. This does not mean that religious should haphazardly invite every young person they run Review for Religious into, but, if you invite us and we show interest, keep in contact and support us. An invitation is in itself not enough. Also, I sug-gest that religious make it clear that they are not just trying to recruit us into religious life, but rather want to help us discern what God truly wants of us, whether it be religious or married or single life. Invitation and support may help many of us to make a coun-tercultural decision more easily. The key here is friendship. As a young man interested in religion, I have often been approached by religious trying to recruit me into becoming a priest. It is discouraging to think that their interest may not be in me as a person, but instead in me as a possible vocation. This is not to say that religious should not actively recruit individuals. Many, like myself, would not consider reli-gious life if it were not for an invi-tation from a religious. There is, however, a distinct difference between inviting and supporting on the one hand and just outright recruiting on the other. A true rapport, indeed a real friendship, with one religious is more valu-able in discernment than one hundred religious asking me if I am interested in their order. A case in point: a friend of mine was recruited by a priest who had met him on retreat. They met for lunch several times after the retreat. During one meeting the priest asked him if he was going to join his particular order. Mind you, my friend had never mentioned that he was even interested in this order. When my fried said that he was not interested at this time in his life, the priest became indignant and lectured him on doing God's will rather than his own. After that meeting, the priest never con-tacted him again. Needless to say, this is not a good approach. The priest saw my friend as a number, a possible recruit, and that is all. Worse yet, he tried to manipulate my friend through pressure and guilt. My friend sensed this pressure from the begin-ning. When the priest's intentions became apparent, he was not surprised; but he was certainly disappointed. Second, as I have already said, I belimie that joining religious " life has become a radical countercultural decision. I have sensed Invitation and support may help many of us to make a counterculturaI decision more easily. Septentber-October 2000 Eggemeier * Generation X and Reli~ous Life this in my own discernment. Countless times old friends and acquaintances have asked me in a negative tone, "Are you becom-ing a priest?" or said, "Why would you become a priest--you could get married!" Religious life has become manifestly coun-tercultural. Choosing religious life has become a radical choice, and so, to attract new vocations, religious need to present them-selves as people who have benefited immensely from their voca-tion and have found peace, mission, love, and a passion for the gospel and for God through their decision. Since this is a countercultural decision, religious orders should accentuate the things they might offer us that we cannot easily acquire as laypersons. I often hear from people discerning a religious vocation that they do not see what it gives them that married life does not: "I could do the same things and have the same type of life consecrated to God as a married person." If it is true that married people can live like religious, why should anyone enter religious life? In light of this, I think orders should bring out the qualities that differentiate them from the married life. In my opinion, some qualities that religious life offers that directly oppose our current cultural trends of greed, power, and promiscuity are the vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity. We are looking for and attracted to these countercultural answers to the problems of modern society, in which there seems to be so lit-tle deep hfippiness. We see the emptiness of promiscuity and hoarding money and want to take a radical stance against these things and devote our lives to something else. Another difference between a religious commitment and that of married life is the uniqueness of the call to live a radical lifestyle consecrated to God alone. I do not know how to artic-ulate this, and I hesitate to say it. But I see something special and profound in an individual taking the stance that God is so central to his or her life that he or she is willing to sacrifice mar-riage in order to live for God in this unique manner. I think that married life and religious life are unique calls with different strengths and weaknesses. I feel that often religious have not stressed the uniqueness of their call because doing so might seem to lessen the call to marriage. Both are calls from God to live a holy life. Yet there is something very striking about religious life--few people planning to get married are ever asked why they would want to get married! In sum, Xers are not going to make Review for Religious a radical countercultural decision unless they see a radical lifestyle being lived out, one that has benefits that married life does not. Finally, for Xers the experiential is essential. In general, we do not believe in something unless we can experience it. Often the Catholic Church can be seen as suppressing the experiential side in favor of the cerebral, and for Xers this is neither satisfying nor believable. To attract Xers, religious orders should present a spirituality that is visible and palpable in everyday life. Religious orders might benefit from an emphasis on daily communal wor-ship and a radical commitment to expressing the experiential side of their practices to Xers. In doing this, religious orders can show Xers that Catholic worship and spirituality are vibrantly lived. Extended community-living experiences for Xers can also be a benefit, because these allow Xers to get a sense of the commu-nities' spiritual practice. Again, l do not presume to speak for my whole generation. I hope, however, that I have described some salient characteris-tics of my generation. We are looking for transcendent mean-ing, community, solid commitments, stability, experience, and service--all of which I feel religious life has to offer. The best way, of course, to attract new vocations has always been and always will be contact with religious who have found joy, community, commitment, and God in their religious life. This, coupled with religious actively encouraging young people to con-sider the religious lifestyle, could have a profound effect on a generation that is starved for things that religious life has and wishes to share. Notes ' Albert Dilanni SM, "Religious Vocations: New Signs of the Times," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 745-763. 2 j. Weber, "Searching for a Vocation X-Style," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocati6n Conference 22 (1997): 9-14. 3 See Ann Carey, "The Harvest Is Great, but the Workers Ain't Invited," Our Sunday Visitor, 19 October 1997. 4 Carey, "Harvest." September-October 2000 J. SHEILA GALLIGAN Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity I~her recent article "The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative omments," Elizabeth McDonough marshals an unwelcome yet necessary diagnosis of religious life. She asserts that "critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent, nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II." Such forthright com-ments compel our attention. Made uncomfortable by critical assess-ments of the prevailing paths of renewal, contemporary women religious, she suggests, manage somehow to forget or deny the reports. Indeed, they demonstrate a bewildering, obstinate accom-modation to the rhythms of the prevailing culture. The carefully crafted analysis is pointed. It provides, in a certain sense, a pow-erful Augustinian arraignment of a currently pervasive manifesta-tion of pride: a deliberate choice to avoid and deny reality. She reminds the reader that critical evaluation (albeit accurate!) has been met with "studied unconcern or strident rejection., dis-dain., open derision." 1 The descriptives point out our penchant for self-deception. It is disconcerting to note, as McDonough does, that, while the need for public and prophetic witness is often enthusiastically acknowledged, a specific, distinctive religious witness has lessened considerably. An extensive rhetoric has emerged, but jargon has a way of irritating, and convoluted sociological or psychological expositions often obscure the theological or spiritual sense. Ironies J. Sheila Galligan IHM last wrote for us in November-December 1994. Her address remains Immaculata College; Immaculata, Pennsylvania 19345. Review for Religious are noticeable. There is lack of clarity about identity and mission; there are negative results from an exaggerated egalitarianism; reli-gious in their ministries have a general invisibility; and there is a dearth of new members. These things can affect us, excite us, and cause us to enter into serious dialogue about envisioning the future. But where, McDonough thoughtfully inquires, are the specific decisions and actions that will initiate and support a "corrective change of course" ? 2 I believe that a possible and necessary first step in critical reflection and corrective decision making depends upon the rather neglected perspective of ecclesial identity. Corrective effort must take place on two levels: the level of theological insight and the level of "heartsight"; that is, insight must become embodied in effective symbol. This article suggests that we seek a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ and explore a renewed use of spousal imagery in the service of a "corrective change of course." I will offer a rationale in support of a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil, as a form of public, prophetic witness and a "sign of consecration, poverty, and mem-bership in a particular religious family" (vc §25).3 Since the spe-cific issue of the religious habit is intimately connected with bridal consecration, I will also discuss the significance of clothing in gen-eral and ecclesial directives specifically. I suggest that a religious woman's key ecclesial identity is that of bride of Christ and that the key sign of this is the veil. The church! How does one evoke the meaning of its mystery, the meaning of something so elusive and paradoxical and yet so beautiful and evocative? Acknowledging that an image supports and illustrates some aspect of truth, the church describes itself in metaphor. The Second Vatican Council drew upon the rich trea-sury of images in Sacred Scripture. According to Lumen gentium, the church is a sheepfold, a tract of land, a choice vineyard. The church belongs to Christ as people, body, and bride (LG §6). Vatican II, with its interpersonal understanding of the church as the people of God, signaled a turning point in its history, casting a warm light on the image of the church as bride (see LG §9). Biblical Foundations From the biblical perspective, bridal and marriage imagery is September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ incredibly rich, yet in recent decades this perspective has been prac-tically lost.4 Beginning as a whisper in the history of Israel, this image rises later in prophetic cries, to be echoed eventually in the Gospels and in apostolic teaching. This image of Christ as bride-groom of the church was prepared for by the prophets, especially Hosea and Isaiah, and announced by John the Baptist (see Jn 3:29). Jesus referred to himself as the "bridegroom" (Mk 2:19). The Catechism of the Catholic Church reinforces the theme and reminds us that the Scriptures speak of the whole church, and of each of the faithful members of his body, as a bride "betrothed" to Christ (§796). Significantly, the last image of the church in the Bible is bridal. The Apocalypse is replete with marriage symbolism: "The marriage of the Lamb has come" (19:7; see Ep 5:25-27). The new Jerusalem is "a bride adorned for her husband" (Rv 21:2-3), a city whose meaning is revealed in bridal language: "the bride, the wife of the Lamb" (21:9-22:5). The final use of bridal imagery is in Revelation 22:17: "The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come.'" The wife, on the day of her wedding, is recognized by her bridal gown. In that attire she is the bride. The gown is the "righ-teous deeds or works." All these texts mirror the church's rela-tionship to .Jesus. The language is about reciprocal love, love for him who is "the first love" (Rv 2:4). The Vision of John Paul II John Paul II understands the church in such personalist terms. He consistently uses the distinctive language of relationship, trini-tarian communion, covenant fidelity. The church is a mysterious living reality that becomes fruitful by its bridal relationship to Christ, who loved the church and gave himself up to mak~ her holy. Being overwhelmed by and responding to love--that is at the heart of the mystery. It is a description of a people called to identify passionately, deeply, with the mission of Jesus. While often ignored in current scholarship, the image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. Because it gets to the heart of the church's nature, this image can help (beyond any nostalgia or romanticism) in our discussion of the ecclesial identity of conse-crated women religious. Vatican II provided consecrated life with a splendid theologi-cal framework for understanding its place in the church (LG ~6).5 Review for Religious Recent ecclesial documents also offer a theological vision of the consecrated life within the mystery of the church. The symbolic and transformative role of the consecrated religious is at the heart of the church. The 1994 synod of bishops identified the common reality unifying consecrated persons: "the call to total self-giving to God; love for Christ the teacher, Lord, and bridegroom of the church, who is intimately followed and served above everything; and the decision to live according to the Spirit.''6 Even a superficial reading of Vita consecrata reveals John Paul'S appreciation of the gift of consecrated life as a special manifestation of the "striving of the whole church as bride toward union with her one Spouse" (VC §3). But, more than simply reflecting on the revelatory dimensions of the image in terms of the whole church, the pope provides a marvelous insight. He speaks of conse-crated persons expressing "their spiritual fruitfulness by becoming receptive to the word, in order to contribute to the growth of a new humanity" (vc §34). This perspective undoubtedly flows from his deep conviction that the world desperately needs to reappropri-ate the reality of spousal communion. The focus is sharpened by these words: "Tl~e church can in no way renounce the conse-crated life, for it eloquently expresses her inmost nature as 'bride'" (vc §105). This is not a matter merely of pious sentiment or lit-erary style, but of theology. The point is central for religious because it is a question of identity. References to this theme pervade this papal exhortation. John Paul says (vC §19), "The consecrated life becomes a particularly profo~and expression of the church as the bride who, prompted by the Spirit to imitate her spouse, stands before him 'in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish'" (Ep 5:27). This finds a special emphasis in an extended section titled "The Living Image of the Church as Bride." The pope writes: "In the consecrated life particular impor-tance attaches to the spousal meaning, which recalls the church's The image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ duty to be completely and exclusively devoted to her Spouse, from whom she receives every good thing. This spousal dimension, which is part of all consecrated life, has a particular meaning for women, who find therein their feminine identity and, as it were, discover the special genius of their relationship with the Lord" (//C §34).7 Eloquence of the Liturgy The liturgical "Rite of Religious Profession for Women," a public prayer, incorporates spousal language,s Candidates to be professed respond to the specific question "My dear sisters (daugh-ters), what do you ask of God and of his holy church?" by saying, "We ask for perseverance in following Christ our bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (§59). Presentation of the veil is accompanied by the following exhorta-tion: "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the church" (§34). The solemn blessing or consecration of the professed is replete with references to the church as bride: "Father in heaven, ¯. you make the human family your bride . When your bride, deceived by the evil one, broke faith with you, . . . the world's Redeemer . . . formed the church into his bride, loving it with love so great that he gave himself up for it" (§72). This richly sug-gestive theme is emphasized and expanded in a beautiful section: "Father, in your loving wisdom you have singled out many of your daughters to be disciples espoused to Christ and to receive the honor of his love. Holy church shines with their rich variety, a bride adorned with jewels . Strengthened by the vows of their consecration, may they be always one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only bridegroom" (§72). After the blessing the newly professed come to the celebrant, who gives the ring to each: "Receive this ring, for you are betrothed to the eternal king; keep faith with your bridegroom so that you may come to the wedding feast of eternal joy" (§73). Indeed, St. Mnbrose, writing in the 4th century, crystallizes the idea in five words: Virgo eft quae Deo cubit (a virgin is a woman who has married God). The rite and all its parts are instantly, theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated. What the church understands about reli-gious consecration--its unique public, ecclesial, nuptial, eschato-logical identity and character--is precisely what the rite of Review for Religious profession says and celebrates. Although persons participate in the rite only once, it continues to define and guide them all their life. The mystical, ascetical, and apostolic dimensions somehow coalesce in the dynamic of this profoundly relational image of "disciples espoused to Christ. their only bridegroom" (§72). A Call That Began with Baptism Two presuppositions provide a framework for further dis-cussion. First, inserting the theology of consecrated life into the sacramental dimensions of the church, Vatican I! highlights its relationship with baptismal consecration and its demands.9 Some Christians are invited to deepen that consecration, to manifest that baptismal light with a particular intensity. In the response to the call of consecrated life, this discipleship becomes a public profession to live the gospel, a prophet-ically public witness, an all-encom-passing commitment. Attempts to accommodate, to make religious more like lay people, are detrimental to the church. When the distinctiveness of this vocation becomes blurred, role clarity suffers. Second, the radical nature and meaning of religious life needs to be proclaimed and clarified, not only in descriptive ecclesial documents such as Perfectae caritatis and Vita consecrata, but also in the personal conviction of those committed to it and in the shining witness of their day-to-day lives. Living in community and practicing the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience challenge the assumptions of the culture. The human goods of marriage, possessions, and self-determination are put into a fresh perspective. VCithout an appreciation for the mystery--a love for the way in which religious consecration takes hold of the very depths of one's being--the fruitfulness of the vocation will be compromised. The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secular-ization, a cultural assimilation. By consecration women religious are established in a new relationship to Jesus Christ, a specifically nuptial one. The veil publicly proclaims the existence of this nup-tial bond, the external sign of an internal reality The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secularization, a cultural assimilation. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Norms of the Church Commenting on canon 669, the one canon in the 1983 Code that directly concerns the religious habit, McDonough carefully delineates its spiritual and ascetical functions: "The habit is con-sistently understood to be indicative of a way of life with both transcendent and immanent consequences. Its purpose is to point ~o the value of something beyond this material world while it simultaneously communicates something of import about the very real circumstance of this material world."9 It heralds a commit-ment to witness to the permanent things in a culture numbed by materialism, sensualism, and contempt for the sac~ed. Many religious communities, with goodwill and intent, do indeed follow the canon's directive and wear a form of habit, but the current practice often omits the veil or makes it optional. Many women religious wear various kinds of secular clothing, from skirts and blouses and hand-me-downs to highly fashionable suits and dresses, complete with jewelry and other accessories. Several neg-ative consequences result. The great diversity of charisms among communities of religious is now lumped into one bland group of "generic church workers." The distinctive concrete "sign" of con-secration is diminished if not lost. A habit that lacks a veil is a diluted public witness, an ambiguous sign. Without the veil, how do people recognize us as religious? Even more, how do people recognize us as members of a unique group of Franciscans or Dominicans or Sisters of Charity? We become "The Anonymous: The Sisters without a Sign!" The veil is important for giving witness to the ecclesial nature of religious identity, to its "bride of Christ" symbolism. Recall the words of Vita consecrata: Consecrated life "eloquendy expresses" the church's nature as "bride" (see §105). Today public witness is iron-ically diluted precisely when the visual, the highly visible, is needed. The veil communicates a sense of dynamic purpose as well as a sense of unity and esprit de corps. Silent Language That Sparks Imagination Some cultural background about the nature of clothing may help here. Throughout history, clothing has served many purposes. According to the insights of those who specialize in these matters, "clothing serves as a means of communication. To the person who is knowledgeable about a particular culture, clothing is a sort of Review for Religious silent language." t0 Rebecca Cunningham's Magic Garment offers a striking insight. A special garment "helps concentrate the powers of imagination, expression, emotion, and movement into the cre-ation and projection of a character to an audience."tt This asser-tion that "clothing is a sort of silent language" is born of experience. The idea is expressed in the 1994 synod's working paper: "Many ask that women and men religious give a silent proclamation of their consecration through wearing the habit of their institute" (§86). The symbolism of the veil has somehow been embedded: it persistently suggests "bride." It bespeaks, quite specifically, a carefully constructed world of meanings and com-mitments. The veil, connoting exclusive love, intimacy, and unre-served self-gift, has been recognized for centuries as a sign of betrothal to Christ (in imitation of Roman marriage customs). It was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as the 4th century,t2 In fact, for centuries there were no rit-ual words of profession; one "took the habit" or "put on the veil." t3 The concept, the "habit of being," of women religious as "bride of Christ" is manifested in two ways: the interior geogra-phy of the heart shaped by the practice of the evangelical coun-sels and the public symbol of the veil proclaiming spousal union with Christ. Vita consecrata says: "Their lifestyle too must clearly show the ideal which they profess, and thus present itself as a living sign of God and as an eloquent, albeit often silent, procla-mation of the gospel" (vC §25). Perhaps this is what many of the faithful are struggling to articulate when they see a religious with a veil and say: "I'm so glad to see a religious in a habit. Thank you" or "There is a real sister." Here, I believe, the practical and pastoral import of the veil comes to the fore. People are not mak-ing a judgment about the moral state or holiness of the religious, but rather recognizing her ecclesial identity and role, affirming the public witness of her vocation. Just what, precisely, prompts such remarks? When do these comments occur? At the sight of a simply dressed woman wearing a little cross or a medal or some kind of pin? No. It is precisely the veil which evokes the response. Indeed, it is through this visible symbol that identity is affirmed and meaning maintained. Recall, too, that in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37) the man who needs care represents "everyman" precisely because he lacks the two human means of specific identification. He is unconscious and so cannot speak. He is stripped of the clothing Septewtber-October 2000 Galligan * Bride of Christ that communicates something about identity. Have contemporary religious in some way become speechless and stripped? A Culture in Need of a Visible Sign Vita consecrata is direct and straightforward: "The church must always seek to make her presence visible in everyday life, espe-cially in contemporary culture, which is often very secularized and yet sensitive to the language of signs. In this regard the church has a right to expect a significant contribution from consecrated persons, called as they are in every situation to bear clear witness that they belong to Christ" (VC §25). Distinctive attire is a way to respond to the church's challenge. The veil serves as a gracious irritant, an explicitly prophetic sign. Although Western moder-nity is inhospitable to the transcendent, the full habit visibly and powerfully conveys an eschatological message "to the people of God here and now, even--or perhaps especially--to many who might otherwise have neither a ready understanding of nor an easy access to the spiritual import of eternity." ~ In contemporary sec-ularized culture, where the external signs of sacred realities tend to vanish, people must be able to recognize the consecrated woman religious, this bride of Christ representing the church. Attire is an unequivocal sign of dedication and identity, a "way that their con-secration is recognizable" (vC §25). It assumes a public represen-tational function.Is Whose She Is The primary meaning of the word habitus is a condition, a state, a pattern of behavior, a quality of nature or character. The nature of the consecrated religious is essentially bridal. In keeping with her ecclesial and personal identity, the bride of Christ provides visible witness most specifically and completely by wearing a veil. This external practice announces and reaffirms her identity, not only who she is, but Whose she is and what she aspires to be. It acknowledges a passionate love, ever deepening into conscious communion, which gradually becomes the ruling "habit of life." Consecrated religious, in both their personal and their corporate lives, are meant to be identifiable. In a society increasingly needing an appreciation of the tran-scendent, in our secularized post-Christian culture, consecrated Review for Religious religious are called to speak and act in evangelical, bold, and imag-inative ways. Where do we stand? Will we manifest a dash of dar-ing, a truly radical "habit of being," through the practice of the vows and through the external sign of religious consecration? Cogent questions perennially confront those on the road of reli-gious consecrktion. These are such cogent questions. In the conclusion to Vita consecrata, John Paul does not flinch from proclaiming: "You have not only a glorious history to remem-ber and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished!" (vc § 110). In short, can a dedicated corps of consecrated religious women rise out of the current mass of "generic" church workers, out of the paralysis of an ambiguous identity, to provide joyful, courageous witness to the Bridegroom and to his bride, the church? Will the "habit of our being" affirm a full and faithful witness? For, indeed, this "corrective measure"--an internal un.derstanding of our personal identity as bride of Christ and its outward sign, the veil--will clearly reveal that we are caught up in a love affair, passionately proclaiming our love for God and his people. Notes ~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Need for Self-Criticism," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June 1999): 251 and 256. See also David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Affiliative Decline and Role Clarity," in their Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993), pp. 248-249. Or see their "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272; available also in Review for Religious 52, no. I (January- February 1993): 6-55. 2 McDonough, "Need," p. 259. 3John Paul II, apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, 1996. Henceforth this will be referred to in the text as 4 Further insights and expanded development of this may be found in Geoffrey Preston OP, Faces of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997). Chapter 8 explores the "Bride of Christ." Raymond Orlund Jr.'s book Whoredom: God's Unfaithful Wife in Biblical Theology (Eerdmans, 1996) explores the theme of spiritual adultery, delving into scripture pas-sages that describe human violations of God's covenant with Israel in marital and sexual terms. See also Gilberte Baril, The Feminine Face of the People of God: Biblical Symbols of the Church as Bride and Mother (Slough, U.K.: St. Paul, 1991; also Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). 5 "This constitutes a special consecration, which is deeply rooted in their baptismal consecration and is a fuller expression of it" (Perfectae caritatis, §5). See Lumen gentium, §4, and all of chap. 5, "The Call of the L49 i Septentber-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Whole Church to Holiness." 6 Vatican Synod Secretariat, "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: Working Paper for October 1994 World Synod of Bishops," Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97-138. Christ is described as "bridegroom" in several other passages: §18, §48, §111. 7 John Paul II's new orientation is perhaps best summed up in the priority which the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§773) accords the Marian dimension over the Petrine dimension in the church, in the order of holiness. Keenly conscious of the unique role of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the history of redemption, the pope presents a link with the New Testament passage that portrays Mary with the Apostles (Ac 1:13-14). "We can see here a vivid image of the church as bride, fully attentive to her bridegroom and ready to accept his gift . In Mary the aspect of spousal receptivity is particularly clear; it is under this aspect that the church, through her perfect virginal life, brings divine life to fruition within herself" (vc §34). Consecrated women religious are "called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother" (VC §57). The image is biblically, theologically, and pastorally appropriate. 8 International Commission on English in the Liturgy, "Rite of Religious Profession during Mass," in The Rites of the Catholic Church, Vol. 2, approved by NCCB and confirmed by the Apostolic See (Collegeville: A Pueblo Book, Liturgical Press, 1991), pp. 247-285. The sectitn numbers given in parentheses in this paragraph refer to this rite on these pages. 9 Elizabeth McDonough OP, "Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation," Review for Religious 56, no. 6 (November-December 1997): 652. ,0 Phyllis G. Tortora and Keith Eubank, Survey of Historic Costumes (New York: Fairchild Publications, 1994), p. 3. n Rebecca Cunningham, The Magic Garment: Principles of Costume Design (New York: Longman, 1989), p. 1. ~2 McDonough, "Habit," p. 654. ~3 According to the Rule of St. Benedict, profession was to be made both orally and in writing, but not necessarily for validity. Benedict knew nothing of the juridical concept of such "validity." It is worthwhile to note the role of the habit in the tradition. Since the Council of Trent, reli-gious profession in order to be valid must be expressed orally. At the time of Gratian, however, profession made tacitly was taken to be true profession. Some clear fact or deed was taken to be religious profession, usually to assume the monastic habit. Gratian says nothing of the neces-sity of profession. Instead he speaks of entry into religion in a precise con-crete way. He uses the terms "monasticum habitum sume~e" (C17, q2, c3) and "habitum religionis sumere" (C20, ql, cl). The veil (cowl for men) was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as Review for Religious the 4th century. In fact, for centuries there were no ritual "words," no vows formally articulated. Historically, ecclesial recognition, the sign of betrothal to Christ, was usually expressed by someone's "taking the veil." 14 This notion is emerging in new literature that speaks of religious garb. See Harry J. Byrne, "Ecclesiastical Garb," America 180, no. 21 (19-26 June 1999): 22. The author notes that the U.S. bishops in their November 1998 meeting decreed that "a black suit and the Roman col-lar are the appropriate attire for priests, especially in the exercise of their ministry." The Directory for the Life and Ministry of Priests (1994) is straight-forward: "In a secularized and materialistic society, where the external signs of sacred and supernatural realities tend to disappear, it is partic-ularly important that the community be able to recognize the priest, man of God and dispenser of his mysteries, by his attire., which is an unequivocal sign of his dedication and his identity as a public minister" (§66). The directory also states that, "outside of entirely exceptional cases, a cleric's failure to use this proper ecclesiastical attire could man-ifest a weak sense of his identity as one consecrated to God." 15 The French theologian Louis Mari Chauvet (Symbol and Sacrament, Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1995) says that symbol as a language of recognition is "the foundation of the identity of the group and the indi-vidual" (p. 5) and that symbol "becomes the agent for recognition and identification between subjects." Chauvet affirms silent communication too: the act of symbolization carries out the "essential vocation of lan-guage" (p. 130). The veil is both self-referential and proclamatory. Thus the consecrated woman religious should be identifiable primarily through personal holiness, but also by a manner of dressing that makes visible to all the faithful, indeed to all people, her specific role in the church. The attire serves as a mediating reality in the construction of authentic iden-tity. It demands personal and communal "habits of being" so that its meaning does not erode and so lose its compelling force. Peter and the Servant Girl The servant girl asked of him, "Aren't you he who was with Jesus?" Curiously she looked in his eyes, did not accuse, for who has not felt fear? And who was she? No true believer, but one who serves, and serving knows not all our masters are deserving. She looked again at him who was afraid and left to seek the one whom all betrayed. June A. Kramer September-October 2000 a way of living MARIE BEHA Work in Such a Way "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer and holy devotion to which everything else should be subservient." That is what St. Francis of Assisi and St. Clare wrote in their respective Rules for the Friars and the Poor Sisters (RC1 7,2). Nice, I thought, but what does it mean? More important, how do I do it? For some reason I found those words repeating themselves over and over again in my heart as I went about my work that day and the next and the next. I always "suspect" the action of the Spirit when some-thing like this happens, so I began to hold this challenge against the reality of my everyday experience. After all, I had lots of experience working, doing all kinds of things. In fact, activity had been the focus of most of my efforts to hasten the coming of God's king-dom. I knew something of its risks, as well as its chal-lenges and the immediacy of its motivation. But somehow this was different. It soon became clear, that I needed to emphasize four words: "working in such a way"; the focus was less on what I did and more on how I did it. That was lesson number one. Kinds of work, hours devoted to it, or even levels of accomplishment--con-cerns which had dominated most of my previous reflec- Marie Beha osc writes once again from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Review for Religious tions--were too task oriented. Whatever Francis and Clare were talking about, it was something more. I passed on to "the spirit of prayer." I began reflecting on familiar experiences of bringing work into prayer, of how my work had often provided the raw material for some of my most urgent prayers of petition. I .easily recalled times when I had spent whole periods of formal prayer begging for the needs of those with whom I worked. On other occasions most of my prayer was preoccupied with fervent requests for personal divine assis-tance. When I felt especially unable to accomplish what I really needed to do, then I got down to serious praying! "God, come to my assistance!" But it was also true that sometimes, in fact way too often, work spilled over into my prayer time, threatening the possibility of any prayer at all. Sometimes a task that I had decided to com-plete chiseled away at my time for prayer; I began late or at least without allowing myself a moment to just be and transition into a more reflective stance. I was still back "there" at whatever I had been doing, even when my body had arrived "here." At other times I deliberately shortened my time for personal prayer because "there is so much to do." Granted that there were circumstances when shortened prayer time had to be the only loving responses to the urgent need of others, but honesty compelled me to admit that this was not usually the case. Then it dawned on me that shortened prayer time was one of the ways my spirit of prayer was being extinguished by work. I began giving myself permission to let my periods of formal prayer be as much a "full-time" occupation as any other of my concerns. It was a start, but by no means an easy discipline. I soon discovered how proficient I had become in rationalizing the urgency of my work load. Too often I was more driven by self-imposed standards than by charity or the reality of the situation. It was my need to accomplish something that compelled me tofin-ish whatever I had set out to do. Achievement motivated me to surpass last week's goals; that was why I worked overtime. Working provided the self-satisfaction of knowing I had done something, maybe even done it well. Others were grateful. At least I was pleased with myself. To my embarrassment I discovered how often I named this a "good day" because"I got so much done." Or, conversely, I complained in frustration, "I didn't get a single thing done today." I could not even recall the last time I had fallen September-October 2000 Beba ¯ Work in Such a Wa~ asleep telling myself how happy I was that I had been able to pray well or work prayerfully that day. With this realization came others. (The Spirit was beginning to work overtime.) Maintaining a spirit of prayer even during times of formal prayer was more than just hard work. Exposing myself to the Spirit of Truth was risky; disciplining and quieting my busy mind was harder still. I would rather have done almost anything else. Too often I did; such escapism surely ran counter to a spirit of prayer. But there was still more. I returned to the original challenge of "working in such a way as not to extinguish . " Francis and Clare seemed to focus less on what happened at times of prayer and more on manner of working. That was realistic. After all, most of us spend more time working or doing other things than praying. How could I work more prayerfully? I tried to recall some things I had been taught many years before about "being recol-lected." After searching around in my mental attic, I remembered something about saying ejaculations while working and the incred-ible example of a certain Jesuit priest who said literally thousands of ejaculations even while ministering in the trenches during World War I. In a period of early fervor, I had tried the practice myself, but had never gotten the hang of it at all. In fact, I felt myself breaking out into a rash at the very thought; such split-level exis-tence was not for me! And I doubted very much that it was what Clare or Francis was suggesting. Once more I returned to my original question: What does it mean to work in the spirit of prayer? I continued to keep my focus not on my prayer but on my work, and the beginnings of an answer slowly emerged: I worked prayerfully when I worked lovingly. Of course. The "spirit of prayer" had to be the work of the Holy Spirit, "the Spirit praying in us with unutterable groaning," espe-cially "when we do not know how to pray as we ought" (Rm 8:26). And that Holy Spirit was God's love "dwelling within" (Rm 8:9). What extinguished my prayer was also what extinguished my love. Examined experience proved the truth of these .reflections. When I failed to "love" my work, rushed through it, did it care-lessly, pushed it aside as soon as I decently could, both work and the spirit of prayer suffered. When my work was less gift given to others and more self-serving gratification, any possibility of prayer-ful work was extinguished. When the bitterness of critical think-ing, harsh judgments, impatient murmuring, ran counter to Review for Religious whatever I was doing, I was neither loving nor praying. And in most instances I was so caught up in my own limited concerns that I was not even working very effectively. But, when I worked lovingly, a quiet reverence, a peaceful pres-ence, transformed any and all of my labors. I was careful without being so care-filled that anxiety replaced trust. I could give myself to whatever most needed doing if I kept my focus in the present and not turned toward the need to accomplish as much as possible. Even when the list of necessary tasks got longer and longer, I found that I was more at peace if I set pri-orities rather than driving myself to get it all done now. My charity was more needed than the accom-plishment of what I had predetermined to do. Being focused on whatever I was doing began to make a critical difference. I became more aware of just how I was going about my labor, rather than concentrating solely on the task itself. As awareness opened up space within, I found myself faced with choices. Somewhere between being lazy and being a . workaholic lay the balance of saving grace. Self-gift rather than self-satisfaction seemed to hold one key. When my focus was more on God at work in whatever needed doing, rather than on what I wanted to do, I could relax. I was

Issue 8.3 of the Review for Religious, 1949. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1949 Mary's Place in Our Life T.~: Jorgensen Mystical Life--Mystical Prayer . M. R~ymond Reception of Profession . Joseph F. Gallen In Praise of Prayer--II . Augustine Kla~s (.~onformlty to the Will of God . CL A. Herbsf Books Reviewed Questions Answered VOLUME VIII NUMBER 3 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME VIII MAY, 1949 NUMBER 3 CONTENTS MARY'S PLACE IN OUR LIFE 'T. N. Jorgensen, S.J . 113 MYSTICAL LIFE--MYSTICAL PRAYER-~M. Raymond, O.C.S,O. . 121 " RECEPTION. OF PROFESSION--Joseph F.~ Gallen, S.J . 130 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER--II--Augustine Klaas, S.J . 139 CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD--C. A. Herbst, S.J. 150 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 18. Postulants Begin Novitiate on Last Day of Retreat . ¯ . 157 19. Sign of the Cross at Benediction . . . . 157 20. Delegate to General Chapter in Place of Superior; General Coun-cilor as Local Superior . 157 21. Interruption of Canonical Year of Novitiate . 158 22. Use of Cuttings from Altar Breads . 159 23. Religious Communities Accepting Widows .~ 159 24. Votes to Be Announced after Each Scrutiny . 159 25. Filling Unexpired Term of Local Superior . 160 BOOKS . 161 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 165 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Summer Sessions . 166 Gethsemani Centennial . 168 Catholic Action Booklet . 168 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May~ 1949. Volume VIII, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September~and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Mary's, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter Jafluary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topek, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1949, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. / ary s Place in Our Life T. N. Jorge,nsen, S.J. NAS Mary the prominent place in our life th.at God wishes her to have? What He thinks of her imp6rtance to us is revealed by the following points: I. The Proto-Evangel "I will put enmities between thee and the woman, and, thy seed and her seed. She shall crush thy head, and thou shalt lie in wait for her heel." (Gen. 3:15.) This potent prophecy summarizing the history of our race is spoken by God Himself. At the dramatic moment of our exile from Eden, it foretells Mary's part in God's victory over hell. Each of us throughout life necessarily shares in this world-wide struggle, for all of us are children of Adam and Eve. By ourselves we are no match. for Satan. But under Mary's banner, fighting with Mary's Son, we are sure of winning. Though Christ Himself is our sole Redeemer, we emphasize Mary's union with Him in this struggle because God emphasizes it. What He has joined so dearly, solemnly, even dramatically, we must not separate. Whatever His reasons may be, it is God's idea, not yours or mine or Mary's, that He make her His mother and give her an out-standing place in this fundamental struggle between good and evil. That Mary and her seed will crush the head of the s~rpent is our ¯ pledge of glorious victory if we seek it through Jesus and Mary. This vigorous, unqualified prophecy, given at the time of the Fall, is God's wayof urging us to remember Mary when we search "for Christ. 2. The Types, Symbols. Figures, and Other Prophecies of the Old Law The Old Testament reveals God's preparation for the coming of Christ and His mother. Some of its Marian references are prophe-cies, such as Isaias' "A virgin shall conceive and bring forth a son." Some are things, such as the ark of incorruptible wood, which held the manna in the Temple as Mary Was to hold Christ. Some are per-sons, such as Judith, .who cut off the head of the hostile Holofetne's as Mary was to crush the head of Satan. Many such references, writ-ten by God's inspiration for our instruction, show His interest in 113 T. N. JORGENSEN Review for Religious Mary through the centuries before her birth. 3. The Immaculate Conception Since sin is our greatest evil and grace our greatest good, the Immaculate Conception is a most desirable gift. Of all the billions born of Adam, Mary alone was conceived without sin. This gift manifests her complete victory over Satan and her leadership of the rest of the redeemed by her more perfect redemption. Through this fullness of grace she stiares generously in God's own life. And all thi) was given to her not only for. her own sake but also for the sake of us, .her children. 4. Mary's Presentation in the Temple Mary as queen of all saints is an inspiration to all. She is a shining model not only for those who live in the.world but also for those called to the cloister. She lives in God's world; selfish wbrldli-heSS and the world which Satan sways she conquered from the begin-ning. The Temple in Jerusalem was God's dwelling place, the place for prayer, the home of the manna foret~lling the Eucharist. Through the centuries God calls I-1]s favorite children to the cloistered life, calls all to conquer worldliness, calls all to prayer and devotion to the Eucharist. Mary leads us on this wonderful way by giving herself to the Temple, to praye~, to God. 5. The Incarnation This is the most important point of all. God chooses Mary for His mother from among all women, actual or possible. He honors her by sending one of the sacred seven who stand before His throne to deal with her. Gabriel, his message and explanation given, awaits Mary's consent. No one but God could choose hi~ own mother; mother but Mary accepted a definite, well-known Person to be her Son. This mutual acceptance of each other in a relationship more complete and eternal than even the bride-groom compact means that Mary shares willingly in Christ's work and sufferings. It leads neces-sarily, as she knew and accepted, to her sorrow on Calvary and her glory in heaven. Christ is eternally Mary's Son, His Body (though glorified now) is still the one He received from her, His love for her is still a filial love. We know that the mother of a great hero rbceives more praise ~han the mother of a lesser hero. We know that as a man advances from mayor to governor to president, the honor and influence of his mother increases proportionately. What limits, then, can be assigned 114 May, 1949 MARY'S PLACE IN OUR LIFE to the power, dignity, and glory due to the beloved mother of Oni~ who is Infinit!! The Incarnation is God's chosen way of uniting us to Himself. The manner of the Incarnation shows Mary's share in His plans. Cardinal Newman writes (Discourses to Mixed Congregations. p. 348) : "She, as others, came into the world to do a work, she had a mis-sion to fulfill; her grace and her glory are not for her own sake, but for her Maker's; and to her is committed the custody of the Incarna.- tion; this is her appoqnted office . Asshe was once on earth, and was personally the guardian of her Divine Child . . . so now, and to the latest hour of the Church, do her glories and the devotion paid ber proclaim and define the right faith concerning Him as God and man." The Church is an extension of the Holy Family and needs Mary as Nazareth needed bet. St. Augustine reminds us that Mary is the mother of the Mystical Body, bearing the whole Christ, the Head and the members. Her divinely appointed task is not finished until all the members are fully formed. 6. The Manner of Christ's Birth By the miraculous virginal delivery God preserves Mary's physi-cal integrity that it may be in harmony with her spiritual perfection. The other circumstance~ of His birth--the angelic songs calling the shepherds, the star guiding the Magi, the words of Simeon and Anna, the murder of th~ Innocents-~-all seem to attract premature attention to One who wished to stay hidden for another thirty years. But these manifestations during Christ's infancy serve to give the mother prom-inence. By bringing Christ to 3ohn the Baptist, to the shepherds and the Magi and ~-imeon and Anna, and soon to Egypt, Mary is the first Christopher, the first to offer Christ to ignorant and learned, to rich and poor, to Jew and Gentile, in Jerusalem and in pagan lands. God, who plans all ~t-hings carefully and lovingly, planned it thus. 7. "He went down to Nazareth and was subject to them" (Luke2:51) Gbd spends thirty-three years on earth t~eaching by word and example; thirty of these are spent leading Mary to higher sanctity. He serves her lovingly day after day and year after year, and inspires Luke to write of it that we may follow Him in this service and love. 115 T. N. JORGENSEN Ret~ieto for Religious ,~. Cana and Calvary Although Mary naturally stayed in the background during Christ's public life, God did arrange that its miraculous phase be-gin at Cana at her request and that it be finished on Calvary as she stood beneath the cross. On Calvary Mary, who had accepted Christ at the Annunciation on His own terms as tI~e Lamb to be slain, sur-renders her mother's rights lovingly, willingly though heart-bro-kenly, that her Lamb may die to remove the sins of the world. We are grateful to priests for their share in bringing us the Eucharist with Christ's real presence and His symbolic death. We must not be unmindful of Mary's great part in the first coming and the actual death of this same Christ. .9. Pentecost This is the birthday of the Church. As the Holy Spirit comes to abide with us permanently upon earth, Mary is present to welcome Him (Acts 1:14 and 2:1). Her presence when Christ sends His Spirit of Love to dwell with us is as necessary for the full harmony and development of God's plans as. her presence on Calvary had been. She is the first and perfect member of the Church, its most glorious jewel on its birthday and throug, h all of its days. She is so much at one with the Chtirch that both are described simultaneously by ,John's "a womati clothed with the sun"; both are the beautiful Spouse of ChriSt admired in Solomon's Son9 of Sonqs. I0. Mary's Assumption and Coronation : If we love a person greatly, we wish to be as r~uch like him as possible, to share our possessions and honors generously with him. Christ's Ascension into heaven as King of angels and men is paralIeled by his gift 'to Mary of her Assumption and Coronation as heaven's Queen. The mother of the Creator is made queen mother of creation. This reveals God's love for Mary and His wish that we acclaim her glory and power. Naturally He wishes us to honor her whom He honors, to love her whom He loves, to know and praise this master-piece of His creation and redemption and exaltation. God's judgments are true; one worthy of His honor and trust and love is worthy of ours. Mary is Christ's gift to us; to slight her is to wound Him. I I. The Church's Devotion to Mary The Church honors Mary greatly. The Mass, for instance, be-sides other prayers to Mary, starts with th~ Confiteor's ".I confess to 116 Ma~, 1949 MARY'S PLACE IN OUR LIFE Almighty God, to the Blessed Mary ever Virgin," continues with the Communicantes' "honoring in the first place the memory of the glo-rious and ever Virgin Mary, Mother of God," and closes with the Salve Regina's "our life, our sweetness, and our hope." Besides the many Marian feasts spread through the year, the Church dedicates to Mary the months of May and October. It urges . ¯ the wearing of the scapular, the saying of the Rosary, the making of Marian novenas. Think of the variety of religious orders dedicated to Mary, the number who have taken her name, the host of books written about her, the many hymns sung to her, the countless altars bearing her statue. All this devotion is a true manifestation of God's love for Mary, for the Church is guided by His Spirit of love. 12. Her Mediatrixsbip of All Grace Tbig gift means that God grants no grace to 'us except through Mary's mediation. All of' our supernatural activity depends upon grace. At every moment we have power to do good, to avoid evil, to increase our glory for eternity, to help save other soulS. At every moment, therefore, Mary must be interceding for each of us with all of her great love and prudence. Since God orders all things harmoni-ously and justly, the lower for the higher, the temporal for the eternal, the physical an~t mental for the spiritual, Mary's charge of the spiritual life of all on earth means that this is Mary's world in a won-derful way. To her more than to any other creature is addressed that promise of Christ, "Well done, good and faithful servant, because thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will place theeover many things; enter thou into the joy of tby lord" (Mr. 25:21). This position of Mary's means as much to us who need the grace as' to her who gains it for us. Our superiors and teachers and parents and closest friends all taken together do not enter into our life as intimately, deeply, fully, endlessly as Mary does by her universal mediatrixship. The twelve points just enumerated show that God loves and favors Mary exceedingly and wishes us to give her a prominent place in our search for Him. The often repeated statements ."God wants us to go to Him as He comes to us--through Mary" and "To God through Christ, to Christ through Mary".are true and impqrtant guides for us. As Father Faber writes: "Devotion to Mary is not an ornament in the Catholic cult, 117 T. N. JORGENSEN Reoieu~ lot Religious something superfluous or a means among many others that we may use or not as we choose. It is an essential part of Christianity . a definite arrangement of God . Devotion to Mary is not half 'enough preached, not the prominent characteristic of our religion which it ought to be. Hence it is that Jesus is not lo~'ed . He is obscured because Mary is kept in the background. Thousands of souls perish because Mary is withheld from them.", A deeper knowl-edge of Mary brings the Incarnation into clearer focus. For one who wishes to understand Christ more fully, reading about Mary is not a waste of time or a roundabout way any more than putting on glasses is a waste of time or a hindrance to a nearsighted person. It is a direct and effective means. Father Leen writes: "Without Jesus no salvation, without Mary no Jesus. And as without Mary it is impossible to have Jesus, so too without~a knowledge of Mary it is impossible to have a knowl: edge of Jesus . The cause of all the heresies that have ravaged the Church, the explanation of all failures in the spiritual life, can be traced to a lack of recognition of the spiritual maternity of Mary." (Our Blessed Mother, p. 103.) This is strong and sweeping language, but the spiritual maternity of Mary is a broad and vital gift deeply affecting the spiritual endeavork of all who seek to find God through the Incarnation, our God-given way of finding Him. God desires that we love Mary. Knowledge of her does much to foster this love. Therefore we should study Mariology. Su.rely that is a logical conclusion. We cannot love one deeply whom we know but vaguely, and even educated Catholics often know but little of Mary's greatest gifts. Devotion to Mary is great and growing, but its very growth increases the need to protect it from all super-stition and error. The widespread study of Mariology will bring many more to Mary, and at the same time it will place their devotion firmly on a Correct intellectual and a safe emotional basis. We are creatures of both head and heart, and God wishes us to serve Him according to our full nature. Too much emotion and too little dogma is ineffective and dangerous. Emotional religion, a transient turning to prayer in time of stress and a multiplication of novenas or other prayers for the novelty, fosters superstition and selfishness. On the other hand, too much intellect, a dry and imper-sonal study of theology, fails to warm the will. Advance in theo-logical knowle~tge, if it overemphasizes the head approach, may make us proud instead of holy. The gre~it heresiarcbs often knew much 118 May, 1949 MARY'S PLACE IN OUR LIFE the'ology. Many Christians know enough about their faith to be ~aints, but they still live in sin because they know these truths only in a cold, detached, theoretical manner. The will needs a nice balance of the two win~s of knowledge and love to carry it safely to God. The study of Mariology brings us a devotion with the perfect head-heart combination, the correct union Of thought and emotion. It is firmly based on fundamental dogma, for Mariology leads us .to study the mysteries of the Trinity, the Incarnation and Redemption, the horror of sin, the glory of grace, and so forth. Think of how much dogma is needed, for instance, for an understanding of the mysteries of the Rosary. True Marian devotion also offers a strong heart appeal. What is more moving than the sight of the Virgin Mother in quiet adora-tion beside the crib or in ,courageous adoration-beneath the cross? The theme most popular in world literature is the Cinderella plot. No variation of it cari be more moving or amazing than the story of the little girl of Galilee become God's mother and queen of.heaven. And it increases in appeal when we realize more deeply our own part in her story. This great queen who charms the angels serves us lovingly every moment of our lives! Truly Mariology offers us a devotion in which both head and heart work energetically yet har-moniously and safely together to carry .us to God. Studying Mariology gives help to all of our prayers, but espe-cially to our Rosary and Eucharistic devotions. When meditation on the mysteries of the Rosary is successful, it reveals G~d's love for us, teaches us ~ working answer to the problem of pain, keeps our eternal reward vividly in front of us, and leads us to meet the joys and sor-rows of life.wlth a deeply supernatural viewpoint. A Mariology course aids greatly in gaining this success. The Eucharist is the center of our spiritual life. A devout under- .standing of it depends mainly upon grace. Union with Mary secures this grace. We seek Mary because sl~e is Christ's mother; we fi~ad her to find Him. He is distant to those who slight her but gives Himself lovingly to those who seek her. This is true for all devotions to Christ but most of all for our Eucharistic devotion, for "the flesh of Christ is the flesh of Mary." She gave of her flesh that God might become man and dwell among us. The study of Mariology will enable us to please Christ by defending the honor of His mother and by bringing her love to others who need her. "Why did Christ seem to snub Mary? Why T.N. JORGENSEN does Scripture seem to say so little of her?. How can one who is free from concupiscence fully understand our trials, or one who is free from sin understand our weakness? How can we find Christ more quickly and fully by studying Mary and Jesus together than by studying Christ alone?"--if such questions are asked of us, can we give good answers? In the day-after-day study of the classroom, the answers to all such questions can be so throughly learned that they will always be remembered. One who has studied Mariology will gladly and effectively speak about Mary, encouraging her friends, converting her enemies. We all need Mary's strong help in our hourly struggle against the world, the flesh, and the devil. She is truly our spiritual mother and wishes to enter fully into our spiritual lives. Because of.her position, her virtues, and her sufferings for us, she has a right as well as a duty to aid us. We have the right and duty to discover her for ourselves and for others. These are some of the reasons why Mariology courses should be available to all students, strongly urged upon all. Our work for the introduction and success of these courses will delight God and bring ¯ His blessings to us, to the students, and to the school. If we cannot work directly for this, we still have a vital part to perform--we can pray for the success of such courses. These prayers will be our share in fulfilling Mary's Fatima desires and will bring great help to count-less souls. The generals of religious orders, the bishops, and the Pope strongly urge all to be devout to Mary. If many thousands of our Catholic students took Mariology courses each year, think of the help Jesuits would have in running sodalities, Dominicans in spreading the daily and meditative saying of the Rosary, Carmelites in moving all to a persevering and devout wearing of the scapular, the Marian-ists and Montfort Fathers in leading all to make and keep an act of full consecration to Mary, pastors in fostering May and October devotions and membership in the Legion of Mary, those interested in Fatima in securing great numbers for the First Saturday Com-munions, and the Pope in sharing with all his great devotion t6 Mary. What virtue and wi?dom and power this would bring to the Church on earth, what joy and peace to the world. Considering God's great love for Mary, we can have all this and heaven too-- if we praise her tO please Him. 120 °/V yst:ical Life .-tV ys!:ical Prayer M. Raymond, O.C.S.O. [There are three theories concerning the normal development of the Christian life. According to one theory, the normal culmination is mystical prancer; according to another, it is a mystical h'fe,'but not necessarily mystical prayer: and according to a third, mysticism is outside the normal development. It may well be that the differ-ences represented by these theories are more verbal than actual. But it seems advisable to note that, even though the differences be real, each theory is tenabl~ within the scope of sound Catholic spirituality, and none of them is certain. In the present article, Father Raymond strikes a vigorous blow for the second theory, the mystical llfe. W'e believe that his article should produce the effect he desires: namely, afford consolation to religious engaged in the active life who may wonder how theg also, without enjoying infused contemplation, can become mystlcs.--ED.] THIS little effort was almost titled "Thanks to Carcinoma," for it was one carcinoma that took me from Gethsemani to St. Jo-seph's Infirmary, Louisville, and another that brought Father Carl Miller, S.,I., all the way froha India to the same hallowed spot. So in very truth it ~vas thanks to carcinoma that I saw theory borne out in practice and have been urged to tell you the consoling truth that the distinction between, mystical life and mystical prayer tells of a very real differenc!! As [ have watched my monastery these late years become over-crowded and have seen foundation after foundation made from this Ladybouse, I knew there was a definite drift toward the contempla-tive life. As I .read letter after letter from earnest souls in almost every stratum of society, however, I began to suspect that too many were confusing contemplative prager with the contemplative life. But it took a carcinoma to show me that my suspicions were very well grounded and that the world of religious needed to know the distinc-tion made by Dora Lehodey, O.C.S.O., and Jacques Maritain. It is unquestionable that every Christian is a potential mystic; but it is not true to say that all baptized persons are destined to develop into mystics of prayer, are to know the heights of infused contempla-tion, and are to have an experimental knowledge of the Triune God dwelling and working within them if they will but live the ascetical life to the hilt and nurture the growth of the "seeds" planted in their souls when they were reborn from the womb of the water and the Holy Ghost. 121 M. RAYMOND Review/:or Religious I had read much about the "'normal development of the spiritual life" in books, brochures, and articles that have enjoyed wide popu-larity. I had seen the possibility of too many becoming confused and thinking that be or she alone had developed properly who had reached the state of mystic prayer, or infused contemplation. But it was St. Joseph's Infirmary tbat convinced me that it is not enough to point out to people that when John of the Cross and the three great Western Doctors, Augustine, Gregory, and Bernard, say that "con-templation is the normal and natural issue of the spiritual life" they may be talking of "acquired contemplation" and not of that highest limit of contemplation which involves an experimental perception of God's Being and Presence. No, one must go further and state clearly that there are three distinct mysticisms. -- But don't let me run ahead of my story. Father Carl Miller, S.J., was only skin and bones when I was called to his bedside. Cancer of the pancreas had eaten away all his flesh, but had left his mind as alert as flame. God graced me with four days filled with short visits to the side of this man who had spent twenty-four years of his life amongst the aborigines of the Patna Missions in India, and who was still burning to go back there in order to bring God to these benighted peoples and these benighted peoples to God. Secretly I wondered if the great St. Paul, with his longing to be "an anathema" for his brethren, excelled the zeal and love that fired this skin-covered skeleton called "Father Carl.". And yet our conversations seldom touched India, for once be learned that I was a cloistered contemplative he had but one topic for discussion. One morning he brok~ out with an exclamation that can be described on.ly as hungry. "Oh, father," be cried, "if I had my life to live over again I would go to India, of course, but I would devote ever so much more time to contemplation!" I chuckled softly, and even more softly quoted: "Our hearts were made for Thee, O Lord, and they will never know rest until they rest in Thee." A wondrous smile flamed in those luminous eyes that looked at me from a skull that had but a transparent skin tightly drawn over it. Then a voice that was colored fire said: "Exactly! Exactly! Won't you tell me now how to become a contemplative; how to be a mystic!" That last word made me laugh aloud. How often had I heard it since leaving my monastery just a few days before! And didn't its 122 May, 1949 MYSTICAL LIFE--MYSTICAL PRAYER every use connote a confusion! Weren't all these earnest souls--the nursing nuns," the teachers from our best academies, the priests from the neighboring parishes, and even some of the more advanced lay-men- weren't they all thinking of infused contemplation when they used that word? Weren't they all unacquainted with, or forgetful of, the distinction between the mystical life and mystical pra{ter, properly so called? Naturally I was thrilled to find so many souls athirst for God, for I am in hearty agreement with the man who had written "the. strength of Religion at any period of history is to be measured by the number and quality of its mystics, of its 'God-intoxicated' men and women." But I was both amtised and a bit alarmed to find so many of them thinking of only~ one kind of mysticism, one kind of "God-intoxication"-- that found in infused contemplation strictly so called. There is real danger in that delusion, for discouragement is still the devil's most pot~iit weapon in his campaign against religious. Had I not spent so much time at St. Joseph's Infirmary, I might not now feel the urge ~o tell the truth about the three mysticisms so pressing, nor know the truth itself to be so pulsingly practical. I believe that God allowed me to see each of the mysticisms in action; I know he allowed me to see that there are quite a few souls'who will know no peace until they have been persuaded that infused ~ontem-plation is not for each of us, nor is it the normal, natural, inevitable outcome of an ascetical life lived with utmost generosity. I understand the longing in these souls. I exult in its genuine-ness; for I know that Augustine of Hippo struck off a universal truth when he said that we shall "never know rest until . "' Yes, I re-joice in the strong drift toward .mysticism so manifest in our day'. ,But I would like to keep some from drifting too far, and others from wrongly resisting the drift. So, in the wake of the authorities men-tioned above I first give a word of encouragement. I say: Fathers, Sisters, Brothers, don't be disheartened if you have never known anything like infused contemplation. Don't be deluded into thinking you have not lived the religious life properly just because you cannot now call yourself, or be called by competent authority, a mystic in the sense that your prayer has been or is manifestly passive. And, above aI1, do not for a single moment consider yourself abnormal or subnormal because you have not reached that develop-ment which some b'ooks on prayer, or perfection, or contemplation say is the normal development of the spiritual life, namely, infused 123 M. RAYMOND Ret~iew for Religious contemplation. For it simply is not true that the ascetical life, lived to the utmost, inevitably leads to mystical prayer in this sense of word. Normally, you cannot be a mystic Without first having been an ascetic; but you may well be a true mystic without ever having known infused contemplation. The question which has caused more than one controversy in the past--"To what does the spiritual life normally lead ?"--seems to me to have received its final answer in the reply: "Not into mystical pr~tyer, but into the mystical life.'" This is the reply I found in the appendix to the French version "of Dom Lehodey's Wags of Mental Prayer. He felt forced to add this explanation because his name had been used to support both sides of the controversy ~eferred to above. He very carefully, and even somewhat laboriously, moves from premise to premise until he is finally able to say we must distinguish between mystical life and. mystical prayer if we are to avoid serious error. Having reached this conclusion he supports himself by numer-ous quotes from Jacques Maritain and Father Garrigou-Lagrange.* Briefly the thesis resolves itself to the .old dictum that "Practice makes perfect." Their teaching is one that leaves little room for doubt or questions. They see grace, the virtues, and the gifts. They watch them in action. In the beginning of the spiritual life they see that grace remains bidden--though operative; and we, it seems, have to take the initiative. Grace here seems to adapt itself to our "hun~an mode" of acting in prayer and in all other things. We are now definite!y i6 the ascetical lif~. But as the spiritual life deepens and develops, the gifts take the ascendancy over the virtues. When this happens one is in the mysti-cal way. When the gifts dominate habitually and in a manifest man-ner, then, unquestionabiy, one is in the mystical life. Hence, Dom Lehodey defines this life as "a life lived under the habitual direction of the gifts of the Holy Ghost in what St. Thomas calls their 'super-human mode.' " And for the consolation of all let me cite Maritain to'the effect that "the precise moment at which the mystical life begins cannot be ascertained in practice, but every Christian who makes progress in grace and tends toward perfection will, if he or she lives long enough, enter the mystical life." XTo avoid misunderstanding, it should be added here that Garrigou-Lagrange, while admitting this mysticism in action, would hold that normally the mystics in action should also be mystics in contemplation. 124 May, lP49 MYSTICAL LIFE--MYSTICAL PRAYER That would sound not only like a large statement but like an erroneous one if we looked at history and believed that the mystical life was synonymous with mystical prayer. The list of mystics who enjoyed infused contemplation is not so long! What does Marltain mean then? He means that there are three mysticisms, each of which constitutes a separate vocation. There is the mysticism of prayer, the mysticism of action, and the mysticism of suffering. On what do these men base their thesis, you may ask. It is on the unshakable fact that there are seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, only two of which are pre-eminent in the lives of the mystics of prayer. They very wisely point out that most of us have not been cast in the mold of the contemplative mystics. Our native endowments run cgunter to the requisites of temperament, disposition, and a multi-tude of circumstances independent of our own wills which must be had befbre one is an apt subject for the special infusion. Dom Lehodey clinches this point by telling how he has seen souls of equal good will and generosity, in the same environment and under the same director, develop differently. One is seen to reach contempla-tion very rapidly, another very slowly, another not at all. He says the ultimate explanation lies in the fact that God wishes to remain Mas-ter of His gifts, and distributes them according to the design He has on each soul. That truth coming from such a master should stop each of us ¯ from thinking the "grass is so much greener in our neighbor's yard!" Those in the "mixed life" should not "envy" cloistered contempla-tives; nor should cloistered contemplatives "begrudge" the active ones their work with and for and on souls! His further remark should come as silver waters to slake our God-thirst. He rather forcefully states that prayer and perfection are not synonymous, and that con-templation is not the prayer of the perfect alone. Many who are very imperfect have been graced by God with infused contemplation, while many truly perfect souls have never known that boon. Any experi-enced director, he says, will tell you that he has met souls further ad-vanced in virtue than in prayer and others that are much further ad-vanced in prayer than in virtue. The practical conclusion seems to be, then, to rest satisfied with the native endowment that is ours, to rejoice that God has given us so much, and to concentrate on our efforts rather than to be studying their effects. It will do us little good to be continually taking our spiritual temperature, feeling the pulse of our souls and counting our 125 M. RAYMOND Review for Religious mystical respirations. The truths to remember are: we are called to be rngstics (but not.necessarily'mystics of prayer); and secondly, that if we advance in grace and tend toward perfection we shall inevitably enter the mystidal life. Variety is the spice of life, and God the Holy Ghost likes the mys-tical life spicy. Granted that this life is fundamentally one, it re-mains patently true that it can'assume the most varied forms, not only because there are seven gifts, but also because the Holy Ghost, their lnltiateur babituel, can set them in motion according to His good pleasure and have the same gift shine out differently in different souls. Who cannot distinguish Catherine of Sienna from Teresa of Avila; Teresa of Avila from John of the Cross; John of the Cross from Paul of the Cross; Paul of the Cross from Ignatius of Loyola; Igna-tius of Loyola from Francis Xavier; Francis Xavier from Francis of Assisi: Francis of Assisi from Francis Borgia, etc., etc.?--all mystics of mystical prayer, but each as different from the other as star from star and individual from individual. If the Holy Ghost should wish your sanctification to assume a distinctly contemplative character, He will make use principally of the gifts of wisdom and understanding; but should He desire your life to be less contemplative and express itself in a mysticism that is pre-dominantly actlve--e.g., in the perfection of humility, or obedience, or some other religious virtue; or in the suffering of trials along with holy abandonment; or in zeal for souls along with an intense interior life--He will call upon the active gifts rather than the contemplative, and you will be a mystic truly, though not one of mystical prayer. Now don't mistake me. These active mystics will be prayerful souls; 'their prayer will be simple, tender, and childlike. But, re-markable though they be as pray-ers, the m6re remarkable trait about them will.be their mysticism of action. Wisdom and understanding will not be as manifest in their lives as will be counsel, knowledge. piety, fortitude, or fear of the Lord. Would you not tl~ink that you had seen this thesis verified in fact had you stood beside Father Miller and heard him ask everyone who came to his bedside to pray that he "might give God cheerfully, promptly, and without reserve whatever God asked of him"? Is not that fortitude that is extraordinary, that works effortlessly, that dominates a life? Would you not recognize real knowledge in the man when he joyfully cried: "My best work for the Patna Missions began when I arrived at St. Joseph's Infirmary." And what would 126 Ma~l, 1949 MYSTICAL LIFE--MYSTICAL PRAYER you have thought of his mystical life if you had heard him. say: "Father, I want everyone who meets me to meet Christ desus"? Do you see now why I laughed aloud when he asked me to teach him how to become a m~jstfc? Is it not obvious that he had lived the mys-tical tffe of action in Patna Mission and was crowning i~ by a mysti-cal life of sufferfhg in Louisville? The moment I saw the light in this man's eyes I knew I was viewing something that had not been kindled on this earth; and now that he has gone to God, I know I spent four days with a real mystic who had never known mystical prayer. As I watched the nursing nuns in that medical center I shook my head and said: "Indeed you are right, Dora Lehodey: Mystical prayer is not for all, though the mystical life is!" How could I refrain from such a statement when I saw these women pui in day after day of a service that could be motivated only by extraordinary lo~)e? .They were up at ten minutes to five every morning, and I know some of them seldom retired before ten minutes to eleven. They gave eighteen hours, crowded with service, to Christ in His mystical members. And they did it with an ease and effortlessness that made me conclude that the lnftfateur babftuel was working in their souls every moment with His gifts. The tho.ught of these nuns suggests the insertion here of a very true paragraph from the brochure What Is Contemplation? written by my confrere, Frater Louis, known to you as Thomas Merton. He rightly remarks: "The great majority of Christians will never become pure con-templatives on earth. But that does not mean that those whose vocation is essentially active, must resign themselves to being excluded from all the graces of a deep interior life and all infused prayer. There are many Christians who serve God with great purity of soul and perfect self-sacrifice in the active life. Their vocation does not allow them to find the solitude and silence and leisure in which to empty their minds entirely of created things and lose themselves in God alone. They are too busy serving Him fn His children on earth. At the same time their minds and temperaments do not fit them for a p'urel~j contemplative life. Complete isolation from all temporal activity would upset their souls. They would not know what to do with themselves. They would vegetate and their interior life would grow cold. Nevertheless theft hnoto how' to find God by devoting themselves to Him in self-sacrificing labors in which they are able to 127 M. RAYMOND Review [or Religious remain in His presence all the day tong. They live and work in His company. They realize that He is within them and they taste deep, peaceful joy in being with Him . Without realizing it, their humble prayer is, for them, so deep and interior that it brings them to the threshold of contemplation." (Italics mine.) My confrere uses the word contemplation in the restricted sense of infused prayer throughout his work. But you can see how neatly his theory fails in with the correct thesis of the authorities I have quoted throughout. You can see that those whom he calls "quasi-contem-platives" would be called by Lehodey and Maritain "mystics (or con-templatives) of action." I cited the passage because it fits my nursing nuns so perfectly. I had seen much of the mystical life in action and in suffering on St. Joseph's "First East" and "First West," but it waited for my re-turn trip home to show me the mystical life in prayer. It was in, one of the large motherhouses of our nuns where I was asked to bless the sick in the infirmary. I gladly acceded, but soon saw that God was blessing me through the sick Sisters much more than He was blessing the sick Sisters through me. I was ushered into a tiny room where an old, old Sister lay awaiting death. The atmosphere of that little cubicle struck me like a blow. What I have said about the light in Father Miller's eyes, I say about the atmosphere surrounding this aged, prayer-filled nun: It was not of this earth! If you had heard her cry of joy when I softly said: "You know God loves you, Sister," you would have realized that you were listening to a soul, who knows God intimately, become articulate. If you had seen the light that suffused her coun-tenance when I added: "And you love God dearly, don't you?" you would understand why I wanted to kneel and receive her blessing rather than raise my hand to trace over her the sign of the cross. My escort did not need to whisper: "This is our saint. She never stops praying." I knew! As I said in the beginning, I belieoe that God allowed me to see the three mysticisms in actuality. You do not have to agree with me on that point. But I beg you to agree wholeheartedly with the truth of the thesis I have been propounding: We are all called to be mystics; but not all to be mystics of prayer. There is a mysticism of action and a mysticism of suffering. Each of us is to fit into some one of those mysticisms; some of us perhaps in all three. But do not grow disheartened just because your temperament, disposition, and present 128 Ma~l, 1949 MYSTICAL LIFE--MYSTICAL PRAYER occupation militate against anything like the mysticism of prayer. And now I know you have only one question: "How can we in the active life become more contemplative or mystic?" Well, Dom Lehodey ended his appendix with the advice that we "examine ourselves, in a peaceful and childlike manner, to ascertain Whether or not we are doing what is necessary to keep our souls free for the divine action." He then urges us to obedience and humility, saying, "It is by obedience and humility that the soul enters spiritual childhood." You can guess the rest. "He who humbles himself shall be exalted" (Mt. 23:12). Or, as Divine Wisdom had said long before: "Si quis est parvulus, veniat ad me" (Prov. 9:4). Dora Lehodey concludes: "To make ourselves little, and to let ourselves be made little, is the means par excellence of keeping our souls open for God's action. If He finds us little, He can lead us, according to Hid choice, either by the mysticism of action, the mysticism of suffering, or the mysticism of prayer; or, if He prefers it, by all .three together.'" If that does not appeal to you might I dare the.suggestion that you remember but one thing? Just remember: We are His members! That's all. For it is by living the doctrine of the Mystical Body that we become true mystics; since the best description of a mystic I have ever read runs: "A mystic is a Christian fully cbr~scious of himself,'" That means to be conscious of our dignity as members of Christ Jesus; conscious of our supernatural endowment of grace, virtues, gift~, divine indwelling, adoption, elevation,, etc., etc., etc.; very con-scious of our duty to "fill up what is wanting to His Passion"; and conscious of the destiny of all men to be members of that Body of which Christ is the Head; conscious of our own destiny. Let me conclude with a few words from Father Walter Far-rell, O.P. In his Companion to the Summa he says: "The first con, dition of contemplation is love.'" The contemplative is to be visua-lized as "a gallant lover reckless of the cost of his love.'" "Contem-plation begins in love, endures by love, and results in love . This love of a contemplative is a holy, clean, beautiful love; for holiness, cleanliness, beauty are conditions for contemplation." So if you would become a mystic--fall ir~ lover. But remember that love not only adores--love serves; love Suffers; love sacfi£ces! Now don't ask me if it is legitimate to desire mystical pr~yer; for the answer is that it is inevitablet. We all want to see God. That urge is as deep as our instinct for self-preservation, if not deeper. But let us remember that the "face to face" vision is for the other 129. JOSEPH F. GALLEN Religious life, and that we who are not cast in the moId of Teresa of Avila or John of the Cross can say with the Founder of the Sanguinists, "If it is so sweet to tire ourselves for God, what will it be to enjoq Him?" and go along in our active mystic lives as happy as angels. Reception Prot:ession Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THE receiving of the vows is subject to misunderstanding in itself, and its importance can be overlooked by the priest pre-siding at the profession and by religious superiors. Any priest knows the necessity of delegation for a marriage at which he assists: he may not be as keenly aware of the equal necessity of delegation for the vows that he receives. The principles governing the recep-tion of the vows are applicable to both clerical and lay institutes. The following discussion is explicitly concerned with lay religious congregations of Brothers and Sisters. The subject is treated directly as it exists in congregations of Sisters, since these are the more numerous. Distinction between Admission and Reception Reception of the vows is often confused with admission to the vows. These are two distinct ideas and acts, but both are required for the validity of the profession. Admission is the juridical act by which the competent superioress decides that a person may and should be allowed to make a religious profession. The act of admis-sion appertains to the higher superioress designated in 'the constitu-tions and bet council. The Code of Canon Law permits that the vote be of either the chapter or the council, but this power will not be given to the chapter except in institutes that have the govern-mental structure of an independent monastery. Admission to the vows, therefore, is an act that precedes profession, an act in which the future professed has no personal part. By admission the subject does not become a professed but is only rendered apt for making a future profession. Reception of profession is the act by which the legitimate supe-rior, in the name of the Church and of the particular institute, ,130 May, 1949 RECEPTION OF PROFESSION accepts the profession. Reception appertains solely to the superior designated for this act in the particular constitutions. The Code gives the council or chapter no part in this act. R~ception is thus concomitant with profession. At the same time that the subject makes profession, the competent superior accepts the profession. Canon 572, § I, 6° clearly states that the vows are invalid if not received by the competent superior personally or thr6ugh a delegate. There are two reasons for this law: (I) religious vows are public vows, and canon 1308, § I defines a public vow as one that is received in the name of the Church by a legitimate ecclesiastical supe-rior; (2) religious profession is also a quasi-contract between the professed and the particular institute. A contract demands the con-sent of both parties, and thus the institute also must consent. Practical applications.--It is possible that the distinction between ~dmission and reception is not universally realized. This case can occur not only from a misunderstanding of the constitutions but also I~ecause of omissions in the constitutions. There are three articles of the constitutions that are at least helpful in emphasizing reception and in ascertaining the person competent to receive the vows: (1) the general requisites for the validity of every juridical profession; (2) the formula of the vows; (3) the article on signing the declaration of the profession. There are a few constitutions that omit the first and third articles and that mention neither a superioress of the institute nor the local ordinary in the formula of the vows. It is not of obligation that either of these be mentioned in the formula. Another difficulty that can occur under this heading is the con-fusing of a juridical renewal of vows with a devotional renewal. All religious realize that the first temporary profession and the perpetual profession are not the same as a devotional renewal. However, if we take the example of an an institute that has three professions of temporary vows for one year instead of one profession for three years, it is possible to find religious who do not distinguish, at least adequately, either these annual juridical professions or the profession consequent upon a prolongation of temporary vows from a devo-tional renewal of vows. This is a serious error. All of these annual professions, as also the profession in a prolongation of temporary vows, are as strictly juridical professions as the first temporary and perpetual professions. A juridical renewal is a new profession of vows that have already expired or will soon expire. A devotional renewal may be made at any time, whether the vows are temporary 131 ¯ JosEPH F. GALLEN for Religious or perpetual. No new obligations are assumed in a devotional renewal, whether it is made individually or in common. The sole purpose of a devotional renewal is to reinvigorate fidelity and fervor in fulfilling obligations assumed in the past. A devotional renewal, inasmuch as it is not a strict emission of vows, does not have to be received. Any juridical renewal is a real religious profession and must be received. A moment's thought shows us that the second annual profession.of temporary vows is as strictly a religious profes-sion as the first annual profession. All of the general requisites demanded by canon 572 for a valid religious profession must be observed also in the juridical renewals and in the profession of a Sis-ter whose temporary vows have been prolonged. Who Is Competent to Receioe the Vou)s? Canon 572, § 1, 6° states: "That it be received by the legitimate superior according to the constitutions, either personally or by dele-gate." The constitutions, therefore, are to determine the sfiperior who is to receive the vows. The Code of Canon Law leaves this superior undetermined. In pontifical institutes that are not divided into provinces the constitutions almost universally prescribe that the vows are to be received by the mother general or her delegate. This is also the prevailing practice in pontifical institutes that are divided into provinces, but in these the legitimate superior is also frequently prescribed as the higher superioress or her delegate, the mother pro-vindial or her delegate. Different superiors may be assigned for the various professions, for example, the mother general for the perpetual profession and the mother provincial for all professions and renewals of temporary vows. The constitutions could also assign the recep-tion of profession to local superioresses. Constitutions that contain determinations such as those listed above cause no difficulty. They clearly and accurately determine the legitimate superior. This determination should be made in the article that lists the general requisites for a valid profession and that reproduces'canon 572. The part of this canon, given above, that treats of reception should read, for example: "That it be received by the mother general either per-sonally or by delegate." In diocesan institutes also it appears to be the prevailing practice for the vows to be received by th~ mother gen-eral or her delegate. It is most unusual for these institutes to be divided into provinces. The constitutions that cause practical difficulties are those that 132 Ma~l, 1949 RECEPTION O,F PROFESSION fail to determine the superior for reception Under the general requisites for a valid profession. This is an inaccuracy; in the compiling of the constitutions, since the Code of Canon Law clearly presupposes that the constitutions determine this Superior. The usual case of this lack of determination is found in constitutions that merely repeat the words of canon 572, § 1, 6°. Thus one set of constitutions reads: "that it be received by the lawful superior either personally or by delegate according to the constitutions." The article of the constitu-tions that primarily should determine the superior competent for reception has failed to do so, and the problem now is: Who is the legitimate superior? The Code Commission has given a reply on such cases and stated implicitly that the secondary source of deter-mination of the competent, superior is in the formula of the vows. According to this reply, the local ordinary is the one competent to receive the vows, if he alone is mentioned in the formula of the vows. The reply did not go beyond this case, but if we apply logically the principle that is implicit in the reply, a superioress of the institute who is the only one mentioned in the formula will be the person competent to receive the vows. The case becomes more complicated " when both the local ordinary and a superioress of the institute are mentioned in the formula. The reception in this case appertains to the superioress of the institute mentioned in the formula, since the receiving of the vows is the act by which the subject is incorporated into the institute and thus by its nature appertains to the superiors of the institute. We cannot say that this last rule is universally true. It is not impossible to find such an institute in which the local ordinary has always received the vows, and it can be held that he was the one intended in the expression "legitimate superior" of the constitutions. Finally, there are constitutions of this type that mention neither the local ordinary nor a superioress of the institute in the formula of the vows. In this case it seems that we shoul(i resort to the article of the constitutions on signing the declaration of the profession. Canon 576, § 2 commands that the declaration of the profession be signed by the professed and by the one receiving the vows. Therefore, this article also should specify the one competent to receive the vows. If this article reads: "and the mother general or her delegate and the professed Sister herself shall sign it," we may hold that the mother general is the superior competent to receive the vows. However, in actual practice this article is often ambiguous. In the absence of any other determination, the superioress of the institute who has the right 133 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious to admit to the particular profession is also the competent superior for the reception of that profession, since reception is the complement and execution of admission. The principles given above apply equally to pontifical and diocesan institutes, since reception of the vows is by its nature and by the laws of the Church a matter of internal government. The practical conclusion of this discussion is that no institute should tolerate obscurity in its laws concerning the person competent to receive the vows. The Local Ordinartj as Recipient of the Vows There are a few pontifical and a greater number of diocesan con-gregations whose constitutions prescribe that the professions are to be received by the local ordinary or his delegate. The reply of the Code Commission, mentioned above, makes it evident that the ordinary in such cases receives the vows only in virtue of a general mandate or commission given to him in the constitutions of the institute. The facuity to receive the vows in either a pontifical or diocesan congre-gation does not appertain to him in virtue of the fact that he is local ordinary. In these institutes the local ordinary either personally receives the vows or delegates another to do so. It is the common practice for him to delegate a priest. Therefore, a priest who is invited to preside at a profession is to be vigilant when the constitutions prescribe that the vows are to be received by the local ordinary or his delegate. He will receive the vows; and he is to make sure, before the professions, that the superioresses of the institute have secured delegation for him to do so. He will not be overcautious but only prudent if he asks to see the letter in which the delegation is given. He may find that the local ordinary was asked merely for the faculties for the retreat before professiori, or for faculties to preach, and that the letter contains nothing about delegation to receive the professions. It is the practice for the local ordinary to delegate a priest to receive the vows, but the Code of Canon Law does not oblige him to do so. He could delegate a superioress of the institute, since the reception of the vows is an act of dominative power, not of jurisdic-tion, and thus does not presuppose the clerical state. The constitu. tions would oblige him to delegate a priest if they prescribed that the vows were to be received, "by the local Ordinary personally or by a priest delegated by tiim." This is rarely found in constitutions. Even in such a case a priest would not be required for the validity1 of 134 May, 1949 RECEPTION OF PROFESSION the reception, unless the constitutions clearly and certainly demanded a priest for validity. It is very unusual in the constitutions of lay institutes to find anything purely of their own law prescribed for validity, with the exception of matters that demand the deliberative vote of a council. When the institute has houses in several dioceses, it is the local ordinary of each diocese or his delegate, and not the local ordinary of the mother house, who receives the professions in his diocese. The local ordinary receives the vows only in virtue of a general commission given to him by the constitutions of the institute. The question can thus arise: Have the superioresses of the institute, by granting such a commission, completely abdicated their native right to receive the professions? At least four authors (Coronata, Schaefer, Vidal, Muzzarelli) deny such a complete abdication and hold that the religious superioresses could validly receive the vows. It is not the practice of religious superioresses to do this, but the doctrine of these authors ~annot be said to be improbable. None of these authors specifies the superioress who would have the right to receive the pro-fessions. This would be the superioress that is mentioned in the formula of the vows or, in the absence of such mention, the superior-ess who has l~fie right to admit to the particular profession, since reception is the complement and execution of admission. Religious Superioress as Recipient of the Professions When the constitutions prescribe that the vows are to be received by a superioress of the institute or her delegate, it is the universal practice for the superioress to receive the vows personally or to dele-gate another Sister of the same institute for the reception. In such a case the officiating priest says the Mass and presides over the cere-monies, but he does not receive the vows. The Code of Canon Law permits the competent superioress to delegate either the local ordinary or a priest for the reception. Such a delegation could be forbidden by the particuIar constitutions. For example, one set of constitutions reads, "that it be received by the Superior General either in person or through a delegated Sister." To delegate anyone except a Sister in this institute would be illicit but not invalid. The original approved text of the constitutions is to be examined closely wih regard to the delegation of the local ordinary or a priest. In at least one set of constitutions, the "'per alium" of canon 572, § 1, 6° was changed by the Holy See in ;the aigproved text to "'per aliam.'" The general 135 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/:or Religious norm of canon 490 states that in matters concerning religious the masculine gender applies also to women, but the feminine gender does not apply to men. Therefore, the correction in this set of constitu-tions would exclude a licit delegation of men. Delegation of Faculty to Receioe the Vows The Code gives to the legitimate superior, whether the local ordi-nary or a member of the institute, the power of granting to another the faculty of receiving the vows. Therefore, this power of delega-tion is possessed, even if the particular constitutions do not explicitly grant it. Habitual delegation may be given.--Tfie legitimate superior has what may be called ordinary power of receiving the professions. Such,a power may be delegated in whole or in part. For example, if the mother general is the legitimate superior, she may delegate the mothers provincial to receive all professions in their provinces, the local superioresses to receive all professions in their houses, the mis-tress of novices to receive all professions in the novitiate. The local ordinary, if he is the legitimate superior, could delegate his vicar for religious to receive all professions within his diocese of institutes that prescribe that the vows are to be received by the local ordinary or his delegate. He could likewise delegate the chaplain to receive all pro-fessions in the convent to which he is attached. He could also dele-gate for all professions of an institute the priest designated by the superioresses of the institute to say the Mass or to preside at the cere-. monies of profession. A few institutes grant habitual delegation in the constitutions. Tl~e following articles are taken from constitu-tions approved by the Holy See: "The vows shall be received by the Superioress General or her delegate. Regional Superioresses in their region, and the local Supe-rioresses of the house where the vows are made, are habitually dele-gated." "that it be received by the Superior General either in person or through a delegated Sister. In virtue of these Constitutions, the Superior of the house where the profession is made is considered delegated unless the Superior General has stated otherwise." Delegation and subdelegation may be git)en for particular cases.- One who has either ordinary power or habitual delegation may dele-gate others to receive the vows in particular cases. Delegation for a particular case is that given for a determined case or for several deter- 136 May, 1949 RECEPTION OF PROFESSION mined cases. Thus a delegation to receive all the professions at a determined ceremony is a delegation in a particular case. If we sup-pose that a local superi0ress has been habitually delegated to receive the professions in her house, she can subdelegate another to receive all the vows at a determined ceremony, e. g., that of August 15, 1949. If the chaplain has been habitually delegated by the local ordinary to receive all the professions in a novitiate house, he can subdelegate another to receive all the professions at a determined ceremony. However, one who is subdelegated to receive the vows cannot again subdelegate his power unless he has expressly received the faculty to do so from one with ordinary power (canon 199, §5). Person delegated.--As explained above, unless the particular con-stitutions declare otherwise, the person delegated may be amember of the institute or one who is not a member of the institute. The legitimate superioress may deleg~ite the local ordinary, a priest, or a Sister of her own institute. The local ordinary, if he is the legi-timate superior, may delegate a priest or a Sister of the institute to receive the vows. Manner of delegation.--The delegation may be given orally or in writing, but the latter is much preferable. The letter of delegation should be retained in the files of the institute. When the vows are received by a delegate, it is advisable to note that fact in the register of professions together with the date of the letter of delegation and the name of the one who gave the delegation. Manner of Receitaing the Vows The act of receiving the vows does not have to be expressed in words but is understood to be sufficiently externally expressed by the physical presence of the one receiving the vows. Reception and pubticit~l of the vows.--The vows of religion are public solely by the fact that they are received by the legitimate supe-rior in the name of the Church. The Code does not demand other witnesses nor that the profession at least ordinarily be made in the presence of the community. These are frequently prescribed by the particular constitutions. Rite of profession.--The rites and ceremonies of profession are foreign to the present subject. One point of the rite, however, may be noted. It is more suitable that the formula of any juridical pro-fession should be pronounced separately by each Sister. This is not 137 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuieu~ for Religious required for the validity of the profession but is of obligation when prescribed by the particular constitutions. The reason for the above doctrine is that the decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites on the rite of profession during Mass stated that the juridical profession was to be pronounced individually. Some constitutions approved by the Holy See. explicitly command that the formula be pronounced individually. Signing the declaration of profession.--Canon 576, § 2 reads in the Vatican translation: "A written declaration of the profession, signed by the person professed and at least by him in.whose presence the profession Was made, must be preserved in the archives of the institute." The clause, "at least by him in whose presence the pro-fession was made," is a literal translation of the Latin, "'saltern ab eo corarn quo professio ernissa est.'" This clause can have but one meaning, that is, "at least by the one receiving the vows." This sense is evident from the fact that the Code is here speaking of a witness to the profession, but in the canons on profession that pre-cede canon 576 the Code has prescribed only one witness to the pro-fession, namely, the one receiving the profession. Therefore, the one who receives the vows must always sign the declaration of the pro-fession, whether this is commanded by the particular constitutions or not, since it is an obligation of the Code. If the local ordinary personally receives the vows, he must sign the declaration, and not any other priest who, may have been present at the ceremony. It is evident that this article should be of help in ascertaining the person competent to receive the vows. It is of such' help when it specifies properly the person who is to sign, for example, "by the Mother General or her delegate." It is oftentimes of no .help, since the article merely repeats the unspecified language of the Code, enumerates with-out distinction many witnesses who are to sign, or omits entirely any indication that the declaration must be signed by the One receiving the vows. This same clause is sometimes mistranslated in constitu-tions, for example, "by the person who presided at the profession." It is licit to prescribe, and some constitutions actually prescribe, addi-tional witnesses who must sign the declaration, such as the officiating priest, the local superioress or her delegate, or two Sisters who were witnesses to the profession; but the constitutions should not omit the prescription of the Code that the declaration must be signed by the one who received the profession. The Code does not demand that either the professed or the one 138 May, 1949 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER receiving the profession sign the declaration immediately after each profession. 'This may be done for all the professions after the cere-mony is finished. This does not exclude the custom, which exists in some institutes, of having each professed sign the document of profession immediately after her profession. In Praise ot: Prayer--II Augustine Klaas, S.J. m~HE Fathers and ecclesiastical writers of the first seven centuries | have already told us of the nature, excellence, e~cacy, and r~ecesslty of prayer. (Cf. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. VI, No. 6, pp. 363-371.) Pursuing further our study of these early Christian writers we flote that they held that the amount of formal prayer for each will yary with his peculiar circumstances of life and work, of nature and grace. Thus the his(orian Palladius (d. circa 425 A.D.) tells of a certain monk, Paul, who came to Abbot Saint Macarius for some pertinent advice on this point. "Uninterrupted prayer was his work and his asceticism. He said daily three hundred formulated prayers. Collecting as many pebbles, he kept themin the bosom-pocket of his garments and then threw away one at each prayer recited. Coming to Saint Macarius, called the Statesman, to speak with him, he said: 'Abbo~ Macarius, I am despondent.' Urged to give the reason, he replied: 'In a certain town there lives a virgin thirty years old, given to the ascetic life. Many have told me that she eats nothing except on Saturday and Sundays . She does seven hundred prayers a day. When I learned this, I chided myself that I couldn't do more than three hundred.' Saint Macarius answered: 'For sixty years I have been doing one hundred set prayers a day, but also working for my food and holding confer-ences with the brethren. My conscience does not accuse me of being negligent. However, if you, who do three hundred prayers a day, " are reproved by your conscience, you clearly show that you either do not pray perfectly or can do more than you are doing now.' " (PG 34, 1070B.) 139 AUGUSTINE KLAAS " Ret~ietu for Religious VI Time of Pra~ler The best times for prayer are indicated by Tertullian (d. circa 222 A.D.) in this striking passage which reveals the prayer customs of the primitive Church. "As for times of prayer nothing at all is prescribed unless, of course, it be to pray always and in every place. But how in ever.q place (1 Tim. 2:8), since we are forbidden to do so in public? Every place, he is saying, where opportunity or even necessity demands prayer . As regards the time, it will not be fruitless to observe certain hours, those common hours, I mean, which mark off the peri-ods of the day--terce, sext, and none, and which are found in Holy Scripture to be more solemn. The Holy Spirit was first infused into the assembled disciples at the third hour. Peter, on the day he saw the vision of the whole community of Christians in that small con-tainer, had gone upstairs at the sixth hour to pray. At the ninth hour he with John went up to the temple where he restored health to the paralytic . In addition to those appropriate prayers which without admonition are required at dawn and at evening, not le~s than three times at least do we pray every day, since we are debtors to the Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Nor should the faithful take food or bathe without a prayer. Refreshment and food for the spirit take precedence over those of the body, and heavenly things over earthly." (PL 1, 1192 A.) Saint Ambrose (d. 397 A.D.) recommends prayer at night and confirms it from Holy Scripture. "If students of secular subjects indulge in very little sleep, how much more musi those who desire to know God not be hindered by bodily sleep, except what is needful for nature. David washed his bed with his tears every night; he arose in the middle of the night to confess his sins to God; and do you judge that the whole night should be given to sleep? Then is God the more to be prayed to, then is help to be asked for and sin avoided, when one seems to be alone. Then, especially, when darkness and walls encompass me on all sides, must I consider that God beholds all hidden things. Do not say: 'I am surrounded with darkness; who sees me or whom do I fear, enclosed and hemmed in as I am with walls? For perilous is his frown for the wrong-doers (Psalms 33.17).' And so, if you do not see a judge present, do you not see yourself? Are you not afraid of the testimony of conscience? Do you not know that the darkness of 140 ~ May, 1949 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER night is not a cover but an enticement to sin? Night it was when Judas betrayed and Peter denied. Above all, at that very time must the judgments of God be revolved in the mind and the exhorting commandments be gone over again. Let not those precepts of chas-tity be absent, in order that, concerned with them, the soul may extinguish the fires of concupiscence and the lust of the flesh. Take this to heart: euer{j night tears bedew m{j bed and drench roy pil-low (Psalms 6:7)." (PL 15, 1291 C.) We must likewise pray in the hour of tribulation and tempta-tion, as Saint Augustine (d. 430 A.D.) advises. "We are taught, brethren, that we belong to the body of Christ, that we are members of Christ. We are admonished in all our trials not to think how we should answer back our enemies, but rather how we may propitiate God by prayer, especially that we may hot be vanquished by temptation, and also that those who persecute us may be returned to reasonable justice. There is no greater, no better thing to do when in trouble than to withdraw from all outward distraction and enter into the inner sanctum of the soul. To invoke God there where no one sees the beggar and the Donor, to close one's door against all exterior disturbance, to humiliate oneself in the con-fession of sin, to glorify and praise God both when He .corrects and when He consoles: surely this is what must b~ done." (PL 36, 884.) Saint Antony, in his quest for the more perfect way, withdrew from the world and prayed continually, as his illustrious biographer, Saint Athanasius (d. 373 A.D.) relates. "Monasteries were not yet so numerous in Egypt, neither was any monk familiar with the vast desert, but if any one wanted to be free to work at his perfection, he did it in solitude not far from his own village. There was at that time in a nearby village an old man who from his youth had led the life of a monk. When Antony had seen him he was on fire with holy zeal to imitate him and soon he began to dwell in various places near the village. If he heard of any one elsewhere living a life of strenuous virtue, he sought him out like a wise bee, nor did he come back again to his own dwelling until he had seen him and thus, after receiving as it were an alms for making this journey for virtue, he came back home again. While dwelling there, he first strengthened his determination not to return to his father's possessions, nor to be mindful of his relatives, but rather to tend to the perfection of the ascetical life with all his will and effort. Hence, he worked with his hands, for he had heard the words: 'If 141 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Ret,~ew ~or Religious any man work noL neither let him eat'; in this way he bought bread, some for himself, some for distribution to the poor. He prayed often, for he had learned well that one must pray without ceasing. So attentive was be to spiritual reading that nothing of the authors escaped him, but .he retained it all, so that for him his memory finally served him in place of books." (PG 26, 844 A.) Later the Apothegms of the Fathers of the Desert (6th century) quaintly recounts how the Abbott Lucius prayed without ceasing. "Some monks once came to Abbot Lucius . The old man asked them: 'What manual work do you do?' They answered: 'We do not touch manual work, but, as the apostle commands, we pray without ceasing.' The old man: 'Don't you eat?' They: 'Yes, we eat.' Old man: 'When you are eating, who prays in your place?'-- Again he said to them: 'Don't you sleep?' They shot back: 'Cer-tainly, we sleep.' Old man: 'When you are sleeping, who prays in your place?' And they didn't know what to answer to all this. Then he said to them: 'Pardon me, but your actions are not in accord with your speech. I will show you how I pray without ceasing while I do my mariual work. When I sit dipping my twigs into water for God and then weaving them into mats, I say: "Hat2e mercg on me, 0 God, according to thg great mercg. And acco. rding to the multi-tude ot: thg tender mercies blot out mg iniquitq." That's a prayer isn't it?' They answered: 'It is.' Again the old man: 'When I thus work and pray all day, I earn sixteen coins, more or less: of these I bring two to the door, the others I spend for food. Whoever receives the two coins prays for me while I eat or sleep; and so by the grace. of God I put into practice that "pray without ceasing.' . (PG 65, 253 B.) But Saint A.gustine objects and then tells of a practical way to pray always. "And whose tongue can stand praising God allday long? Isn't it true that when conversation becomes a little lengthy you get tired? Who can endure praising God the whole.day ? I suggest a method by which you can praise God all day, if you so wish. Whatever you do, do it well, and you have praised God. When you sing a hymn, you are praising God; what are your tongue and conscience doing if they are not praising God? Have you stopped singing the hymn and are going out for refreshment? Don't drink to excess and you have praised God. Are you doing business? Don't cheat and you have praised God. Are you tilling a field? Don't get into a quarrel and .142 May, 1949 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER you have praised God. By the blamelessness of your works prepare yourself to praise God all the day long." (PL 36, 341.) VII Place of Prayer Prayer need not be restricted to any particular place, but rather, as Saint Ambrose says, should be made everywhere. "The Savior teaches also that you should pray everywhere when be says: 'Enter into yqur room" (Matt. 6:6). Understand by room, not a room circumscribed by walls, by which the members of your body are enclosed, but rather the room that is within you, in which your thoughts are enclosed, in which your senses dwell. This prayer room of yours is with you everywhere a6d everywhere it is secret; its judge is none other than God alone." (PL 14, 335 D.) Saint Athanasius wants virgins who 'are following the more per-feet life to pray in a certain way at mealtime and gives incidentally some rules of religious etiquette. "After None eat your bread thanking God at table with these words: 'Blessed be God Who has mercy on us and nourishes us from our youth, Who gives food to ever~ living creature. Fill our hearts with joy and gladness, that having a sufficiency in all things, we may abound in every good work, in Christ 3esus our Lord, with whom glory, power, honor, and adoration are due to Thee, together with the Holy Ghost, for ever and ever. Amen.' . . . "Now, when you are about to sit down to table and begin to break bread, having thrice made the sign of the cross, thus give thanks: 'We thank You, Father, for the holy resurrection which you revealed to us through Jesus Christ: and just as this bread, which is on the table, once was scattered far and wide, but by baking has been made one. so may Your church be gathered from the ends of. the earth into Your kingdom, because Yours is the power and glory for ever and ever. Amen.' This prayer you must say when you break bread at the beginning of the meal. When you put it back again on the table and are about to sit down, recite the whole of the Out Father. The above:mentioned prayer Blessed be God we also recite rising after the meal. If there are with you~two or three other vir-gins, let them give thanks over bread and pray along with you. If a catechumen is present at table, let her not pray with the faithful and do not sit with her when. you dine. Likewise you must not sit down to eat your food with women who are somewhat careless and 143 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review for Religious facetious, unless it be necessary. For you are consecrated to the Lord your God and your food and drink are sanctified, sanctified indeed by prayers and holy words." (PG 28, 264 D, 265 C.) VIII Manner of Pra!cer How should we pray? What bodily posture should we adopt when we pray? Listen to Origen (d. circa 255 A.D.) "I think that he who is about to pray becomes more alert and attentive throughout his prayer, if for a moment beforehand he stand still and recollect himself. Likewise when he has cast off all worries of s6ul and distracting thoughts; when he has called to mind as best he can the majesty of Him whom he is approaching, and how irrev erent it .is to offer Him oneself so lax, so remiss, and almost con-temptuous; when finally he has laid aside all else, thus let him come to pray, his soul straining as it were beyond his hands, his mind visibly intent on God. Before he stand in prayer, let him raise up the superior part of his soul from the earth and place it before the Lord of all; let him so far forget the insults he thinks he has suffered from another as any one might wish God to be unmindful of his own evil deeds . "Since there are many bodily postures, that one in which the hands are extended and the eyes raised to heaven, is surely to be pre-ferred above all the others by him who also bears in his l~ody the image as it were of those things which suit the soul in prayer. This we say should be especially observed when no circumstance interferes, for in a particula.r circumstance it is sometimes permitted to pray seated, for instance, on account of considerable pain in the feet; and even lying down, because of fever or such like illnesses. For the same reason we may pray doing neither of these things, for example, when we are traveling, or when business does not allow us to withdraw for prayer." (PG 11, 549 B.) Saint Augustine observes carefully the posture of those praying in the Holy Scriptures. "We are informed.by examples that there is no prescription as to how the body should be composed for prayer, as long as the soul in God's presence carries out its intention. For we also pray standing, as it is written: 'And the publican stood far off' (Luke 18:13) ; and on our knees, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles(20:36) ; and sitting, as did David and Elias (II Kings 7:18; III Kings 18:42). 144 May, 1949 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER Unless we could also pray lying down, this would not have been written in the Psalms: "Ever~ night tears bedew my bed and drench roy pillow' (Psalms 6:7). When any one seeks to pray, let him take that bodily posture which at the time he considers suitable to assist the soul." (PL 40: 144.) Prayer demands that the soul be purged of its faults and detached from earthly things: so Saint Gregory the Great (d. 604 A.D.) and Abbot Cassian (d. circa 435) teach. "The interior face of man is his soul, in which we recognize that we are loved by our Creator. Wherefore, to raise this face up means to lift the soul to God by devoted prayer. But a stain soils a face that is lifted up if conscience accuses the contemplating soul of its guilt, because the soul is completely deprived of the confidence of hope, if intent on prayer it is stung by the memory of an unmastered fault. For it despairs of being able to receive what it wants, since it remembers that it will not do as yet what it has heard God wants of it . Wherefore this is a wholesome remedy: when the soul reproaches itself for a remembered fault, let it first in prayer deplore its mistake; insofar as the stain of error is wiped away with tears is its face seen to be clean by its Creator when it prays from the heart." (PL 75, 936 B.) "God's servants, when cut off from earthly activities, know not how to speak idly, avoid scattering and soiling the mind with words, and so obtain a hearing from their Creator before all others. By purity and simplicity of thought they are in a certain way already like Him, as far as that is possible. But we in the midst of noisy crowds, while we often speak idle and sometimes even gravely harm-ful words, our lips are as far from the omnipotent God as they are close to this world. We are drawn from on high while we are immersed in worldly things by endless talking." (PL 77, 256A.) Abbot Cassian compares the soul to a feather. "The soul can be aptly compared to the finest down or lightest feather. If the feather is neither ruined nor moistened by water externally applied, at the slightest breeze it is quite naturally carried up high in(o the heavens by reason of the mobility of its substance. But, if it is weighted down by the sprinkling or pouring of water, not only will it not be caught up to any aerial flights on account of its natural mobility, on the contrary it will be pressed down to the lowest earth by the weight of the water it carries. Thus our soul also,,if it is not burdened down with earthly vices and cares, or 145 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review for Religious spoiled by the water of culpable lust, raised aloft as it were by its natural quality of purity, it will be carried up to the heavens by the lightest breeze of spiritual prayer, and leaving behind the lowly things of earth, will be wafted on high to things celestial and invis-ible . And therefore if we wish our prayers to penetrate not only the heavens but even what is above the heavens, let us take care, after we have purged it of all earthly vices and cleansed it from the dregs of the passions, to bring the soul to its natural condition of subtility, so that its prayer may ascend to God free from the burden of sins." (PL 49, 774 B.) Saint C!tprian (d. 258 A.D.) and Saint Basil (d. 379 A.D.) demand attention and concentration of mind for effective prayer. "When we are at prayer, my dear brethren, we must be alert and give ourselves to it with our whole heart. Let all fleshly and worldly thought be cut short and let the soul think of naught but its prayer alone. Thus also the priest before the prayer of the Preface prepares the minds of the brethren by saying "Sursum Corda" ('Lift up your hearts'), so that when the people answer "Habemus ad Do-minum' ('We have them lifted up to Lord') they may be admon-ished that they ought to think of nothing else but the Lord . How can you ask to be heard by God, when you do not even hear yourself? Do you wish God to be mindful of you in prayer, when you are not mindful of yourself?" (PL 4, 533 B.) "How shall one achieve concentration in prayer? If he is con-vinced that God is present before his very eyes. For if one who looks upon and converses with a prince or other person of authority fixes his eyes on him, how much more he who prays to God will keep his mind focussed on Him who searches hearts and reins . Can this attention be had always and in all things? How can one arrive at it? That it is possible is shown by him who said: "My eyes are eoer towards the Lord' (Psalms 24: 15), and "I set the Lord always in my sight: for he is at m!j right hand; that I be not mooed' (Psalms 15: 8). How it can be done has been told above, namely, if the soul is not allowed for any space of time to interrupt its thinking on God, on His works, and on His gifts, acknowledging them arid giving thanks for all." (PG 31, 1216 C ~4 D.) In an exceptionally vivid passage Saint John Chrysostom (d. 407 A.D.) urges recollection and perseverance in prayer. "Let them give ear who are somewhat inexperienced in prayer. When I say to some one: 'Ask God, beseech Him, supplicate Him,' 146 May, 1949 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER he answers: 'I have asked once, twice, three times, ten times, twenty times, and I have never received anything.' Do not stop, brother, until you receive something: the objective of petition is the gift received. Then only stop when you receive: rather do not stop even then, but still continue on. If you do not receive anything, ask that you may receive; but when you have received, give thanks for the gift. "Many enter into the church and having said a thousand lines of prayer, they leave; they do not know what they said; their lips move but they themselves do not hear anything. You yourself do not hear your own prayer, and do you wish God. to answer it? I made genu-flections, you say,--but your mind was flitting about outside; your body was in church, but your thoughts were wandering around out-doors; your lips were reciting your prayers, but your mind was com-puting interest, calculating business deals, contracts, fields, posses-sions, thinking of parties with friends. For the d~vil, evil as he is, since he knows that we make so much progress in time of prayer, then especially does he attack. Often we lie stretched out on our beds thinking of nothing in particular: but only let us start to pray and he will inject six hundred thoughts to make us quit, empty of fruit. "Even when you are outside the church, cry out "Miserere mei" ('Have mercy on me'), not with your lips but with your mind, for God hears even the silent. No special place is required, but at least a minimum of moral living . If you are in your bath, pray; if on the street or in be~t, do likewise: wherever you may be, pray. You are a temple of God; you have no need to look for a place; only the affections of the will are required. If you stand befor~ a judge, pray; when the judge gets angry, pray on." (PG 52, 457.) We read in the Apothegms that Abbot Silvanus of Mount Sinai taught a certain monk of the desert a salutary lesson on joining work to prayer. "A certain brother came to Abbot Silvanus on Mount Sinai, and seeing the brethren working, said to the old man: "Be not occupied about the l:ood which perishes. For Marq has chosen the better part.' The old man said to a disciple: 'Zachary, give this brother a book and take him to an empty cell.' Now when the ninth hour came, he kept looking out of the doorway wondering whether they would send some one to call him to dine. When no one summoned him, he arose and went to the old man whom he .thus questioned: 'Father, didn't the brethren eat today?' 'Certainly they ate.' 'And why 147 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Review for Religious didn't you call me?' 'Because you are a spiritual man and have no need of this sort of food. We on the other hand, since we are quite carnal, want to eat and that's why we work, but you have chosen the best part, prayerfully reading the whole day, and of course you do not wish to eat carnal food.' Hearing this, the brother made a penitential bow and said: 'Forgive me, Father!' The old man cut in: 'Mary surely needs Martha too. Let Mary also t~ike a lesson from Martha.'" (PG 65, 409 C.) IX Obstacles to Prayer Almost every ancient writer who treats of prayer mentions dis-tractions as the chief obstacle and suggests some remedies. Thus Saint Basil. "Surely it must be understood that we cannot observe any com-mandment, nor love God or neighbor, if we mentally wander hither and yon. Neither can he really acquire a mastery of science who flits from one to another, nor can he who does not know what pertains to its proper object, master even one. For it is necessary to adapt one's actions tO one's end and objective, and nothing right is done in an inept and unsuitable way. The blacksmith's art is ordinarlly not acquired by doing pottery work; nor does one prepare to win athletic prizes by diligently tootling on the flute, since every objective is achieved by appropriate and suitable action. Wherefore, that exer-cise which is done to please God according to Christ's Gospel, con-sists in banishing the cares of the world and 'casting out every other distraction of the mind . "The mind wanders when it is idle and not occupied in necessary thoughts. It becomes slothful and quite careless, because it does not believe that God is present searching the heart and the reins. For if it really believed that, it would certainly do what has been said: I set the Lord aludays in m~ sight: for he is at my ~igbt hand, that I be not mooed (Psalms 15:8). Whoever does this or the like will never dare or permit himself to think of anything which is not con-cerned with the building up of faith, although it seem to be good. nor of what is forbidden and not pleasing to God." (PG 31, 920 B, 1097 B.) Cass;.an points out a frequent cause of distraction in prayer: "Whatever our mind has thought of immediately before the hour of prayer, that necessarily comes back to us while we pray by 148 Ma~l, 1949 IN PRAISE OF PRAYER reason of the activity of our memory. Therefore What we wish to be in prayer that we must prepare ourselves for before prayer . And so whatever we do not wish to creep into our minds while we are praying, we must hasten to exclude from the portals of our soul out-side of prayer." (PL 49, 773 C.) We are urged by Saint Gregory/ the Great to imitate Abraham offering sacrifice. He drove those annoying birds away. "Often into the vFry sacrifice of prayer itself importunate thoughts inject themselves and try to snatch away or soil what we are immolating to God with tears. Hence Abraham, when he would offer sacrifice at sunset, struck out at those persistent birds and dili-gently drove them away, lest they carry off the sacrifice he was offering (Gem 15 : 11 ). Thus when we offer to God a holocaust on the altar of our hearts, let us ward off unclean birds of prey, lest evil spirits and perverse thoughts rob us of what our soul hopes to offer to God with spiritual profit." (PL 75, 1146 C.) And fight the good fight in this matter, says Origen. "You will scarcely find any one who when he prays is not bothered by some useless and distracting thought, which deflects and breaks off the intention by which the mind is directed towards God . And therefore it is the great struggle of prayer, that amid untoward obstacles and distractions the mind continues ever fixed on God with a firm purpose, so that it too can rightly say: 'I haue [ought the good fight, I have finished the course" (II Tim. 4:7)." (PG 14, 1277 A.) X Effects o[ Prayer Prayer achieves two main effects. First, it detaches us from all things, as Saint Max[mus the Con[essor (d. 662 A.D.) teaches. "I am asking you to tell me this about prayer: Why is it that prayer withdraws the mind from all other, thoughts? The old man answered: Thoughts are thoughts of things, some of things perceived by the senses, others of things understood by the mind. The mind, dwelling on these, carries about the thoughts of them; but the grace of prayer unites the mind to God and by the very fact that it unites the mind to God, it withdraws it from all other thoughts. Then the liberated mind, occupied with God, becomes like to God. Now, such a mind, asking Godfor what is becoming, never fails to receive what it asks in prayer. That is why the apostle bids us pray with- 149 C. A. HERBST Redlew /:or Religious out ceasing, namely, that diligently uniting our minds to God, we may gradually break away from the seduction of ear.thly things." (PG 90, 929 C.) Secondly, prayer unites us to God, and then leads to all virtues, according to Saint Basil. "That prayer is excellent which impresses on the soul a clear notion of God, and God's indwelling is nothing else than embracing by recollection God residing within. Thus we are made temples of God when the constant flow of memory is not interrupted by earthly cares, and the intellect is not disturbed by sudden mental tempests. Fleeing all things the worshipper withdraws to God, repels affections that arouse desire, and busies himself with the means that lead to virtue." (PG 32, 229 B.) And so we accept the concluding advice of a fifth century reli-gious whose name was Hesychius: "Let the name of Jesus cling to your breath and to your whole life and you will taste the fruits of peace." (PG 98, 1512 A.) Conformit:y t:o I:he Will of God C. A. Herbst, S.J. 44~HY will be done!" These words the Son of God Himself | put into the perfect prayer as the climax of our well-wishing to God. Love is the union of two wills. Perfect love is the perfect union of two wills. It is nothing less than this perfect love that we together with Our Lord ask for here, for it must be "on earth as it is in heaven." It is the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. Christ came to earth for this. "I came down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him that sent me" (John 6:38). The signified will of God indicates to us what we must do. Every Catholic must observe the Ten Commandments and the precepts of the Church and fulfill the duties ~f his state in life. Religious must keep their vows and rules. This is the will of God clearly signified tO US. But the will of God properly so called, the internal will of God, is the will of God's good pleasure. From our point of view it is the Mag, 1949 CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD "submission, whereby our will is united to God's good pleasure," as St. Francis de Sales says. There must be "in everything great con-formity of our will with the divine will so that we do not p~esume nor wish to increase either in ourselves or through ourselves His glory except in so far as He Himself wills it, by that degree of glory which He asks from us, content with the dignity of those actions and'occu-pations which He demands of us. We know for certain that, no matter how lowly and humble they may be, as long as they are done according to His most holy will, they serve no less to promote and ¯ increase His glory than other works however sublime." (Le Gaudier, De Perfectione Vitae Spirtualis, Pars IV, caput i.) This is the patient, willing, joyous, ardent acceptance from God's hand of whatever it may please Him to send us~ willing or not willing what He does, not only habitually but actually, in every action of our life. This will touch temporal goods, honor, health, intellectual gifts, means to sanctification, its degree, the amount of glory we render to God, our liberty, trials, sorrow and sufferings of body and soul. God foresees, watches over, and provides for fill things most lovingly. This is His providence. "God by His providence watches over and rules everything He has made," says the Vatican Council (Denzinger, 1784), "reacheth from end to end mightily, and order-eth all things sweetly" (Wis. 8:1). "He made the little and the great, and He hath equally care of all" (Wis. 6:8) ; "Good things and evil, life and death, poverty and riches, are from God" (Ecclus. I 1:14). Our.Blessed Saviour says: "Be not solicitous for your life, what you shall eat, nor for your body, what you shall put on. Is not the life more than the meat: and the body more than the raiment? Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow, nor do they reap, nor gather into barns: and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than th.ey? . And for your raiment why are you solicitous? Con-sider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they labour not, neither do they spin. But I say to you, that not even Solomofl in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. And if the grass of the field, which is today and tomorrow is cast into the oven, God doth so clothe: how much more you, O ye of little faith? Be not solicitous therefore, saying: What shall we eat: or what shall we drink, or wherewith shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the heathens seek. For your Father knoweth that you have need of all these things." 151 C. A. HERBST Reuiew for Religious (Matt. 6:25-32.) "Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered." (Matt. 10: 29, 30.) These tender reassurances ought to inspire in us the greatest con-fidence. "The Lord ruletb me: and I shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture. He hath brought me up, on the water of refreshment . For though I should walk in the midst of the ¯ shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for thou are with me." (Ps. 22: 1, 2, 4.) "Blessed be the man that trusteth in the Lord, and the Lord shall be his confidence. And he shall be as a tree that is planted by the waters, that spreadeth out its roots towards mois-ture: and it shall not fear when the heat cometh. And the leaf thereof shall be green, and in the time of drought it shall not be solicitous, neither shall it cease at any time to bring forth fruit." (Jer. 17: 7, 8.) "Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son Of her v~omb? and if she should forget, yet will not I forget thee" (Is. 49: 15). St. Augustine says: "God will no: let us be lost for whom He sent His Son to be tempted, to be cruci-fied, to die, to rise again from the dead. God surely will not look with disfavour upon us for whom He did not spare His own Son but delivered Him up for us all" (In Psalroum LX, 4). This con-fidence is based on hope which, after charity, is the greatest of all the virtues. "Without faith it is impossible to please God" (Heb. 11:6). How vivifying and fruitful it is, is emphasized over and over again by Our Lord in the gospel. "Be of good heart, daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole. And the woman was made whole from that hour" (Matt. 9:22). "And Jesus said to him: Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he saw, and followed him in the way" (Mark 10:52). "Whose faith when he saw, he said: Man, thy sins are forgiven thee" (Luke 5:20). "Amen I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain: Remove from hence hither, and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible to you" (Matt. 17: 19). This living faith is indispensable to the practice of conformity to the divine will. We must see God's hand in everything, great and small, consoling or distressing. In fact, the less we see and understand, the stronger our faith mus~ become. This is the way it was with Mary. "The life of faith is nothing less than the continued pursuit of 152 May, 1949 CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF GOD God through all that disguises, disfigures, destroys and, so to say, annihilates Him. It is in very truth a reproduction of the life of Mary who, from the Stable to the Cross, remained unalterably united to that God whom all the world misunderstood, abandoned, and persecuted. "Mary, when the Apostles fled, remained steadfast at the foot of the Cross. She owned Jesus as her Son when He was disfigured with wounds, and covered with mud and spittle. The wounds that dis-figured Him made Hiria only more lovable and adorable in the eyes of this tender Mother. The more awful were the blasphemies uttered against Him, so much the deeper became her veneration and respect." (Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence, I, ii, 2.) St. Bernard says: "We may consider three classes of people: beginners, those who have progressed, the perfect. 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom' (Ecclus. 1:16). In the middle stands hope. Charity is the consummation. Hear the Apostle: 'Love is the fulfilling of the law' (Rom. 13:10). The beginner, starting from fear, carries the cross of Christ patiently. He who has made progress carries it willingly, in hope. He who is aflame with love carries it ardently. Only he it is who can say: 'You have always been my love and I have desired thee.' " (I Sermo S. Andreae, 5.) When we speak of conformity to the will of God we usually have in mind the difficult things of life since the easy things hardly present a problem. In the beginning patient endurance is about all one can offer. We would prefer the opposite, we would cast off the cross if we could. But moved by reverence, by filial fear, which has in it great respect and affection and dread of offending God, we are resigned to whatever God sends or allows to happen to us in the ordinary course of natural events. This resignation comes with a certain amount of effort. "If we have received good things at'the hand of God, why should we not receive evil?" (Job 2:10); "As it bath pleased the Lord so is it done: blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21). Indifference is an advance on resignation. "Resigna-tion prefers God's will before all things, yet it loves many other things besides the will of God. Indifference goes beyond resignation: for it loves nothing except for the love of God's will: insomuch that nothing can stir the indifferent heart, in the presence of the will of God" (St. Francis de Sales, Treatise on the Love of God, Book IX, chapter iv). But this indifference is not a negative thing, not a lackadaisical or I-don't-care attitude of mind. It is a positive act. 153 C. A. HERBST Review [or Religious I must make myself indifferent. Then I will be spiritually receptive and accessible to the divine influence, recognize and submit to God'a action, rest in God, accept providential events peacefully. When light and strength from God descend upon this holy indifference, straightway the will of God is done perfectly, likes and dislikes aside. "I am straitened between two: having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ, a thing by far the better. But to abide still in the flesh is needful for you. And having this confidence, I know that I shall abide, and continue with you all, for your furtherance and joy of faith." (Phil. 1:23-25.) "He who has made progress carries it willingly, in hope." Hope sustains us amidst the obstacles encountered in the attainment of sal-vation and perfection, in attaining eternal life, and in getting the means necessary to attain it. By it we love God in.terestedly, for our own sakes, but supernaturally. Because of difficulties there is fear; but there is also a well-founded expectation of success, based on God's all-powerful assistance and His goodness, if we make an effort and co-operate. We are spurred on by the desire of heavenly things. We do not seek the cross but we carry it with good grace. We would not be rid of it if we could because we know it is good for us, that it is a great blessing in disguise, that,going the way with Christ to Calvary we shall have with Him our Easter glory, We know it will make us ricb in merit for Heaven, "The second degree is when, though the man does not desire the evils that befalI him nor choose them, stilI, when they come, he accepts them and suffers with a good grace because such is thewill and good pleasure of God. What this degree adds to the first is a certain good will and a certain love of the pain for God's sake and a desire to suffer it, not only so long as there is an obligation under precept to suffer it, but further so 19ng as the suffering of it will b~ agreeable to God. The first degree takes things with patience; the second, beyond that, takes them with promptitude and readiness." (Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection, I, viii, 12.) "God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Gal. 6:14) is the cry of the perfect. They love the cross, they embrace it. "Looking on Jesus, the author and fihisher of faith, who having joy set before him, endured the cross" (Heb. 12:2), they want what He had. Like the apostles who "wentfrom the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus". (Acts 5:41), theybear 154 May, 1949 CONFORMITY TO THE WILL OF (~OD their tribulations with joy. With the writer of the Imitation they realize that "in the Cross is salvation: in the Cross is life; in the Cross is protection from enemies. In the Cross is infusion of heav-enly sweetness; in the Cross is strength of mind; in the Cross is joy of spirit. In the Cross is height of virtue: in the Cross is perfection of sanctity." (Book II, chapter 12.) They would not cast off the cross of Christ if they could. They cling to it. Each one says: "In order to imitate and be more actually like Christ our Lord, I want and choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Christ replete with it rather than honors: and to desire to be rated as worthless and a.fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world" (Spiritual Exercises, Three Modes of Humility). With St. Paul they cry defiance for the love of Christ to the things that strike terro?'into those who are of this world. "Who then shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation? or distress? or famine? or nakedness? or danger? or persecution? or the sword? (As it is written: For thy sake we are put to death all the day long. We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.) But in all these things we overcome, because of him that hath loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature shall be able to ~eparate us from the love of ~God, which is in Christ Jesus Our Lord." (Rom. 8: 35-39.) Abandonment to Divine Providence is a special kind of con-formity to the divine will. It consists in giving oneself .up com-pletely to the will of God in the duty of the present moment. The divine will "nourishes the soul and continually enlarges it by giving it what is best for it at every moment" (Caussade, Abandonment, I, i, 5). This is the hidden operation of God working in us unceasingly for our sanctification. Through it holiness is made easy. "The presentmoment is the ambassador of God to declare His mandates. The heart listens and pronounces its 'fiat.' Thus the soul advances by all these things and flows out from its centre to its goal. It never stops but sails with every wind. Any and every direction leads equally to the shore of infinity. Everything is a help to it, and is, without exception, an instrument of sanctity. The one thing necessary can always be found for it in the present moment. It is no longer a choice beween prayer and silence, seclusion and society, 155 C. A. HERBST reading and writing, meditation and cessation of thought; flight from and seeking after spiritual consolations, abundance and dearth, feebleness and health, life and death, but all that each moment pre. sents by the will of God. In this is despoilment, abnegation, renunciation of all things created, either in reality or affectively, in order to retain nothing of self, or for self, to be in all things submis-sive to the will of God and to please Him, making it our sole satis-faction to sustain the.present moment as though there were nothing else to hope for in the world." (Caussade, Abandonment, I, ii, 10.) Men of weak faith criticize this high activity of God as they would not.presume to criticize the skill of the lowliest workman. But "if that which God Himself chooses for you does not content you, from whom do you expect to obtain what you desire? If you are disgusted with "the meat prepared for you by the divine will itself, what food would not be insipid to so depraved a taste? No soul can be really nourished, fortified, purified, enriched, and sancti-fied except in fulfillin~ ~he duties of the present moment. What more would you have? as in this you can find all good, why seek it elsewhere? Do you know better than G6d? As He ordains it thus why do you desire it differently? Can. His wisdom and goodness be deceived? When you find something to be in accordance with this divine wisdom and goodness ought you not to conclude that it must needs be excellent?" (Caussade, Abandonment, I, i, vii.) Truly did Isaias the prophet say: "My thoughts are not your thoughts: nor your ways my ways, saith the Lord" (Is. 55:8). "The foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men" (I Cot. 1:25). It is in this holy aban-donment that the soul must give itself up to God when plunged into the troubled .waters of the dark night of the senses. It is in this holy abandonment that the soul in the transforming union, the highest form of infused prayer and love for God in this life, com-pletely forgets self. "All her thoughts are bent on how to please Him better, and when and how she can show the love she bears Him" (Saint Theresa of desus, The Interior Castle, Seventh Man-sion, IV). 156 .uesffons and Answers. --18- Our postulants and novices make the same retreat, and we prefer that the retreat end on the day the novices take their vows rather than the day before on which the postulants receive the habit and begin the novitiate. Would it be according to canon law to allow the postulants fo receive the habit on the morning of the elg.h~h day of the retreat, provided they remain in retreat and complete the prescribed eight days7 Since canon 541 states that "'before beginning their novitiate" the postulants must make a s~piritual retreat of eight entire days, it seems that the eight days must be completed before the novitiate is begun. This is ceriainly the spirit of the law; but a novitiate which was begun on the last day of the retreat would not be invalid. Many authors suggest that after the retreat has been finished a day or several days may elapse before the novitiate is begun or before first profession is made. ml9~ If the sign of the cross is to be made at the .blessing glv~;n at benedic-tion of the Blessed Sacrament, should it be made before, during, or after the blesslng7 The Church does not prescribe any formalities to be observed by the faithful at benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Hence it is left to the devotion of the individual to look at the Blessed Sacrament, to bow his head, to make the si.gn of the cross, to strike his breast, or to do anything else his devotion may suggest. Since the Church has no prescriptions in this matter, it seems advisable to allow religious to act as .their devotion may prompt them, rather than to introduce cus-toms binding on all. The logical time for making the sign of the cross (if one uses this method) seems to be at the time when the blessing is given. 10 For the past six years a general councilor has been local superior in~ one of our houses. In July we shall have general elections. Since local superior already has a right to cjo to the general chapter because of his office of general councilor, may the community elect a second dele-gate in place of the local superior? Is it according to canon law for a general councilor to be a local superior at the same time? 157 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew [or Religious According to many constitutions of religious congregations, the local superior of a community of twelve or more professed religious is entitled by reason of his office to membership in the general chap-ter of the congregation. The members of the community likewis~ elect one of their number to represent them at the chapter. .The general councilors also have a right to membership in the general chapter by reason of their office. Although the local superior who is also a gbneral councilor has a twofold right to membership in the general chapter, this does not give him more than one vote in chapter since canon 164 expressly states that "even though a member may have a right to cast a vote in his own name by reason of several titles, he can cast btlt one vote." Since the community had nothing to do with the membership in the chapter of the local superior, they have no right to elect a second delegate in his place. Article 276 of the Normae of 1901 required that the general councilors reside with the superior general, though they allowed two of them to reside elsewhere in case of need, provided that they could easily be present at council meetings (Art. 276). Furthermore, councilors were forbidden to hold any office which might impede their principal duty of assisting the superior general with their advice and counsel (Art. 279). Neither the Normae nor the Code of Canon Law forbid a councilor to hold the office of local superior. m2 I-- We have one year of novitiate. A novice who becjan his novitiate on Aucjust 14, 1947, was obliged to go to the hospital on August 8, 1948, and remained there until September 14th when.he returned home. He was allowed to take his first temporary, vows on September IS. Now one of the older members is worried lest the vows are invalid because the novice was away'from the novitiate for more than thirty days and thus interrupted the canonical year. Please give us your opinion on the case. Canon 34, § 3, 3° of the Code of Canon Law prescribes that the canonical year of novitiate be measured from midnight of the day on which it is begun to midnight of that same date one year later. The novice who began his novitiate on August 14, 1947, completed his canonical year at midnight between August 14 and 15, 1948. Hence if he went to the hospital on August 8th, he was absent only six days, of the canonical year. Therefore his canonical year was not interrupted by his absence of thirty-five days from the novitiate house. According to canon 556, § 2 an absence of fifteen 158 May, 1949 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS days or less from the novitiate quarters during the canonical year need not be made up unless the major superior requires it: and even in that case it is not necessary for the validity but only for the licit-heSS of the novitiate and of the subsequent profession of vows. --22- Can you suggest any way in which the cuttings or tr;mmlncjs from hosts or altar breads could be used? In response to our appeal under question 13 in the March num-ber of the REVIEW for solutions to the problem outlined above, we have, received the following from different sources: (1) Place the pieces in an open pan in a heated oven to dry them. After they are crisp., grind them and use the crumbs as cracker dust. (2) Cuttings and trimmings can be put in soup and cooked up with it. Also may be u~ed with flour for baking. (3) We take the cuttings and trimmings from the altar bread room to the general bakery where they are mixed into the bread dough. The bakery Sister puts them into the liquid in the mixing bowl after the yeast, sugar, and short-ening have been added, allows them to soak for a few minutes, gives the mixer several turns, and then adds the proper amount of flour and completes the mixing. The altar bread cuttings blend perfectly with the other ingredients in this process. Are there any rellcfious communities ~n the United States that accept as aspirants oJder women who are widows? The Visitation Nuns and the Sisters of Saint 3oseph admit widows under certain conditions. Usually there is an age limit. m24~ Would the {allure to announce after each scrutiny the number o{ votes cast for the various candidates ~nvaJldate the ejection? Canon 507, § 1 states that in elections held in chapter the com-mon law in this subject (as expressed in canons 160 to 182) aid any provisions contained in the constitutions should be observed provided they are not contrary to the canons of the Church law on elections. Canon 171, § 2 prescribes that after the ballots have been counted to see that they conform to the, number of voters, "they shall be inspected and it shall be made known how many votes each can-didate has received." The wording of the law is clear, and it would be 159 QUESTIONS' AND ANSWERS Review for Religious gravely illicit to omit this announcement after each scrutiny. Whether the failure to do so would invalidate the election is disputed among canonists both before and after the Code, hence the invalidity is not certain, and all past elections are to be considered valid. m25-- In our congregation it is usual to change superiors so that their period of three years begins on a definite day in summer. To make a change during the year would be very inconvenient and would mean upsetting class arrangements in other houses and creating other difficulties; e.g., future changes in that house would have to be in the middle of the year. Hence the following questions: I. In the event that a local superior dies during the year, would it be lawful for the mother general, with or without the decisive vote of her consultors,to appoint a Sister to act as superior till the end of the year? 2. Would it be lawful to appoint a Sister to act as superior for an unexpired term of a year or more? 3. Would such time spent as acting superior have to be counted as part of the three year term in the event that the acting superior is appointed superior of the same community when the usual day of nomina-tion arrives? The law of the Church requires that a local.superior may not govern one and the same religious community for more than six continuous years (canon 505). The normal term prescribed is three years, with one immediate reappointment. Hence it is not contrary to the law of the Church for the constitutions or custom to prescribe that all local superiors should be appointed on the same fixed day. I. If a local superior dies within the third year of her office, the simplest solution would be to allow the assistant superior to carry on until the end of the year. Strictly speaking, any other Sister could be appointed to act as temporary superior for the rest of the year. 2. In this case, where more than a year of the three year term remains to be filled after the death of a local superior, another Sister should be appointed to fill out the unexpired term. While it is true that the usual term ofthe local superior is three years according to canon 505, still this is the exception which proves the rule, and may be allowed in order to avoid the difficulties involved in changing superiors in midyear. 3. The time passed as acting superior is to be counted in the period of six years, beyond which the Church law does not wish an'.¢ 160 Mag, 1949 BOOKS local superior to govern one and the same community without an interval of time elapsing. In conclusion it may be stated that the consent or counsel of bet councilors will be needed by the higher superior according as the constitutions require one or the other for the ordinary appointment of local superiors. ooks Dr. Pascal P. Parente's THE WI~LL OF LIVING WATERS is a sort of anthology of very brief excerpts (sentences or paragraphs) on topics of the spiritual life. Under six principal headings and twenty-three subdivisions select utterances of Scripture, the Fathers, and "the masters of the spirit," are collected and presented. It is designed "to place the primary sources of the doctrine of the spiritual life within easy reach of any reader, and to encourage a more frequent and intelligent use 0f these sources in pre.ference to secondary ones." It is suggested that the closer one gets to the original springs, the purer and more highly invigorating the waters are apt to be. The work should be very useful and welcome to those who would like to see in a moment or so and without any difficialty what these primary sources have to say on any of the topics covered. (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1948. Pp. viii ~ 336. $3.50.) The Foreword of THY LIGHT AND THY TRUTH, by Robert Nash, S.J., gives the author's purpose: "To stimulate thoughts that will afford subject matter for conversation with God in prayer." The Foreword also presents a brief exposition of prayer, its disposi-tions and development. The meditations are developed in the following way: Prepara-tory Prayer, Setting, Fruit, Points, Summary, and Tessera. In all there are 22 chapters, each chapter making up a complete medita-tion; but, as the author mentions, there is sufficient matter in each chapter and even in each point to make several meditations. The manual is a pleasant and inspiring meditation companion and should find acceptance among clerics, religious, and lay people as did its companion volume, "Send Forth Thy Light." (Westmin-ster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1948. Pp. 197. $2.50.) LORD, TEACH US TO PRAY, by the eminent French dramatist, 161 BOOKS Review [or Religious . Paul CIaudel, has for its purpose the expression of the necessity, the value, and the beauty of prayer. The exposition, however, is so obliquely stated, so freighted with symbolism and literary allusions, that it will not be of mucb use to many religious. Those, however, who have had special training in modern French Catholic literature will find in the book much that is good, for CIaudel writes from a heart that is deeply spiritual and Catholic. The translation is by Ruth Betbell. (New York: Longmans, Green ~ Co., Inc., 1948. Pp. 95. $2.00.) CHRIST IS ALL, by John Carr, C.SS.R., is a work" originally printed in Great Britain. The author presents Christ as: Our God, Teacher, Physician, Model, Food, Friend, Victim, and King. Our Lord is shown playing these roles in His own daily life as recorded in the Scriptures and now once again in the daily life of a Christian. In clear, impelling style this work prescribes the personal influence of Christ in everyday living, as the remedy of the ills of our times. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1948. Pp. 143. $2.25.) FATHER DAMIEN, APOSTLE OF THE LEPERS, is a short booklet by the Most Reverend Amleto Giovanni Cicognani, Apostolic Dele-gate 'to the Ufiited States, relating in a summary yet inspiring fashion the life, work, and virtues of God's unselfish worker. The booklet can be obtained from the Fathers of the Sacred Hearts, 4930 South Dakota Ave., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. Price: 50 cents (paper). Sister Ma~y Philip has prepared a TEACHER'S MANUAL FOR. SISTER ANNUNZIATA'S FIRST COMMUNION CATECHISM. After a worth-while introduction rich in practical suggestions for the teacher the manual gives a rather thorough treatment of each lesson under these headings: purpose, preparation, approach, picture study, activi-. ties, bibliography. Busy Sisters hard pressed for methods and material will discover in this fine little guidebook a storehouse of helpful ideas which do not merel~ point out the way but make the going easy. (New York: Benziger Brothers, Inc., 1947. Pp. 79. 25 cents.) In LUMII~RE ET SAGESSE Father Lucien Roy, S.J., gives us the fruits of a thoroughgoing effort to work out and set f

Transcript of an oral history interview with Philip R. Marsilius, conducted by Sarah Yahm on 20 May 2015 as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Philip Marsilius was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1943. The bulk of his interview focuses on his military service in World War II as well as his continuing relationship with Norwich University as a student, alumnus, and trustee. ; Philip Marsilius, NU '43, Oral History Interview May 20, 2015 Sullivan Museum and History Center Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SY: So let's start out with, where were you born? And when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? PM: Well, I was born in Woodstock, Illinois in 1921. My father was running a company there. And my family consisted of a brother four years older, and a sister two years older. The sister and I were born in Woodstock. My father had been in World War I, and an ordinance making French 75 guns. And after that, was hired by this Woodstock typewriter company, which is older than the old typewriters, who was owned by the Sears family. And they made in addition, calculators and typewriters. And so I grew up there for two years. And then my father took an opportunity in Bridgeport to run a machine tool company, hence we moved here and lived in the north end of Bridgeport. Grew up there, went to public schools. Went to Harding High school, and from Harding, then to Norwich. SY: And did your father talk about his experiences in World War I? PM: Yes. He was a Norwegian immigrant. Came over from Southern Norway when he was 14, and learned his English in Boston at the YMCA. And then was hired by a company that made shoe machinery -- big, big company. And then they recommended he go to MIT, and he went and graduated as a mechanical engineer. And went immediately into the Army, and came out as a captain. And he was in machine tools all his life. He came here, and through the younger years -- then -- and when I was at Norwich, my folks moved to Trumbull, built a house there. And I spent a little time there, but we were accelerated in our senior year at Norwich. We went out early because they wanted us in the service. And we couldn't go to summer camp in our junior year, which was the standard routine. We were horse cavalry in those days. And we would take a trip through the back roads of Vermont up to Burlington area to the fort. And they had too many trainees at that time, so they ended up saying, we can't take you. You're gonna have to go to OCS. After four years at Norwich, we still had to go to OCS. SY: So, were you mad? PM: No, because we got out early. We got out end of February. SY: And I've heard stories of everybody on campus marching down and enlisting, was that what happened? Or? PM: Well, everybody -- a lot of them left early and joined -- volunteered for the Air Force. And some went to Canada to get in the Canadian Air Force when, like, might not be able to go in the US. And then a lot who had not finished Norwich, left and enlisted. SY: So were you eager to sort of get overseas? Were you eager to kind of get into the war? PM: Very much so. Would've left early after December 7th when Pearl Harbor hit. We went -- several of us went and volunteered. They said, you're not 21, you can't go without parental approval. And my folks said, finish your college, and then you can -- you're on your own. SY: So there was no part of you that was sort of frightened to go? PM: No. I was anxious to go. SY: And why? What was your -- why -- PM: Because I'd had good military background. The war was a devastating war. And in my mind, if we didn't stop what was going on and prevail, life would not be the same -- not be. So it just made sense to go in, and I volunteered for armored. Went to Fort Knox, and there were three others from Norwich. They had room in that class -- 110 candidates. SY: And how -- let me rewind a little bit. How did you adjust to being at Norwich? How did you adjust to being a rook? Did you take to the military lifestyle or was it difficult for you? PM: It did -- wasn't difficult. I had more -- I had more fun as a rook. And we had to come out in our pajamas. I had bought fancy pair of pajamas because I had heard about -- so I just said -- you know, they did a lot of nonsense. Bracing and all that stuff. SY: But it didn't faze you? PM: Didn't faze me. And second year, I was president of the class, and I stayed president of the class for all three years. SY: So, you did well there? PM: And I was valedictorian in addition. SY: In addition. OK, so how was the decision made that in February -- oh, tell me what you remember about Pearl Harbor. How did you hear about Pearl Harbor? PM: Oh, it was basically on the radio, and I just finished a book -- and it's in my car right now -- returning it. A Day of Deceit. FDR, and not letting Hawaii know he knew it was -- he wanted the Japanese to attack so he could declare war. And I've been through that whole book. But we knew it right away, obviously, from the radio news. Everybody knew it pretty fast. SY: Did you have radios in your room in Norwich? PM: Not in our room, no -- not. I can't -- I don't think we had radios. Today, they have everything. SY: Today, they everything. Exactly. OK, so then February, were you all called together into the Amory and told that you were gonna go to war? How as the decision made? PM: Oh, we were -- what we were told to do was, we had -- we actually had a graduation, and then we had a week off. And then we were told to return to Rutland for induction. And they made us corporals, of all good things, when we were supposed to be second lieutenants. And then we departed by train to Massachusetts, and then they went through the induction shots and all that -- get you prepared. And then they scheduled wherever you were gonna go. Some went to Riley in Kansas. Some went to chemical warfare, some went to electrical. So it was -- but four of us, I was able to get a car, and so I had a car. And the four of us drove from Florida, Massachusetts -- I can't think of the name. But that's where we were told to meet, and went through five days of basic nonsense. KP duty and all that kind of stuff. And then we drove from there, I picked up the other officers. They weren't officers then, they were corporals. And we drove all the way to Camp Polk, Louisiana, where we were entered into -- well, back up. We were at Fort Knox for three months, and then battle training for a month in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. And then we were assigned -- the four of us from Norwich were assigned to the 11th Armored Division. That's when I got my car, and we drove from there down through Alabama over to Louisiana, and we arrived. And the next day, we were ordered to come to the commanding general's office. And low and behold, he was a Norwich grad, General Brooks, and a very decent individual. He came out as lieutenant general. And we went from -- they were ready to move the whole 11th Armored to the desert training in California. But we had to go to an interim location, temporary post in Texas -- Abilene, Texas. And at that point, we had six weeks wait until the other armored division that was in training had completed. And then we moved out there. What happened when we were out there, typical of -- they have -- each company has a normal staff of say, five officers. But when they're in training, they had maybe two extra lieutenants, so you all get involved. And then about every couple of months, they go by and say, boom, boom, boom, boom. You're out, you're going to overseas, or you're going someplace. SY: So did you take a ship? I'm sure you took a ship. Obviously, everybody took a ship. But do you remember the name of the ship you took overseas? PM: No, I don't really. What I did was the second the go-around in December, I went to my colonel and volunteered to go to be one of the select. I wasn't pulled out, but I volunteered, because I didn't think 11th Armory was gonna get over there for the fighting. So I volunteered, and that's a tough decision because then, you're on your own. You go -- you go back to the East, and you go to wherever they direct you. And then you get assigned to a fort, and you go as a replacement officer. And you have hundreds of enlisted men, you don't know anybody. SY: And you don't have a relationship with them. PM: You end up having to do duty on the ocean crossing. And I had about 50 men in the lowest deck, most every one of them sick all the way over. Four bunks high -- it was a mess, but you spend 8 hours on duty with them. But anyway, we got to England, and then we went from Liverpool, went on down to Frome, England, somewhat east of London. When the officers went and replaced officers, they enlisted them and went to another post. And then you waited for your assignment. And I with another officer, made a [forayed?] to the Rangers to volunteer to join our Rangers, knowing they needed officers. And both of us were accepted physically, but they made a stipulation, we can't change orders if the time you get back to your camp. If you have orders directing you to another unit, that's it, forget us. And that's what happened. I was already assigned to the 106th Cavalry Group, which was a recon outfit. And it turned out I was -- because I was Cavalry, I was in light tanks. So, I was in tanks the whole war and it was good. You know, and we got over to Normandy in late June. Not D-Day, but mostly, we joined first Army. Patton hadn't already -- his Army hadn't been formed. And we had an interesting time in Normandy. We were right on the east end, right where the water was -- and the channel. The tide would go out a mile, and we had to send a platoon of troops out every night to collect stragglers. People trying to -- were around. And right across -- SY: Who were the stragglers? PM: Well, people who wanted to get away from the Germans. French people. You didn't know whether it was spies or what they were. Could be anybody. And we had to collect them, and make sure that they were the -- had credentials and know who they were, so that they wouldn't cause trouble. If they were just going home to join friends or family, that was OK. But there were a lot of them. And the Germans were -- got quarter of a mile from where we were, and there was a river in between, flowing out. And we had to send patrols down the beach, and one other patrol across to make sure the Germans were there. And they -- we got fired on, and fortunately got back. But -- so we did all that kind of stuff while they were waiting for the breakthrough. And when we first arrived, we -- the first combat we had was with the 82nd Airborne. And they were cleaning up a couple of villages, good size villages. And that's where they -- we broke in with them, and then they left. And then we moved over to the coast. SY: So, I've interviewed a lot of Norwich grads who were in combat, and they -- a lot of them have very intense and vivid memories of their first experience with combat. Do you have intense and vivid memories of the first time you were under fire? PM: We were under fire every day. SY: Do you remember what it was like the first time? PM: Oh sure. SY: What was it like? PM: Where I mentioned about the beach area, at one point even though we were in tanks, we got out of the tanks and went down on foot with carbines and tommy guns to stop any infiltration by the Germans 50 yards in front of us. And dusk, day, and nighttime -- well, yeah, you do what you have to do. SY: Were you frightened? PM: I never was frightened. I was -- tried to be sensible, and you couldn't go into combat and be frightened all the time, because you had to lead 30 men, and I had five or six tanks. So if I was frightened, it'd be -- that wouldn't work. SY: Some people also talk about everything being very slow, and the colors being very bright, and things sounding different. Do you -- you don't remember that? PM: No. Guns sounded like guns, and they were noisy. And -- but recon, we were out in front of everything. We were the first contact, and we have to fight then until we developed how strong the enemy is. And then if we can't handle it, we move aside and bring the heavier stuff up -- infantry or armor, who are close by. So that -- that's -- and when it's under heavy fighting, often we as recon would be on the flank. We'd be making contact with the next American unit. SY: I read the sort of memoir you wrote, briefly. Your short memoir about your time at war. PM: I tried to stay away from the gruesome stuff. SY: Yeah, but I think it's important to sort of -- you know, to talk about it. Just sort of talk about what every day was like and what sticks with you. What sticks with you now? What -- do you think about your time at war now and throughout your life, did you? PM: Not really. No. Just another episode. Once in a while, you can't help but go back. But after the war, there were about eight officers in our unit, and we had a -- the original 106th was Illinois National Guard -- that's where they started. And they had a reunion every year, and we went to the reunions for about three years. And finally decided that it made more sense for us to get a group of the officers together, because half of the enlisted men we didn't even know. And they were having a good time, but we didn't want to invade their fun. So what happened was eight officers, a couple who were in our squadron and a couple that were in the other -- there were two squadrons. And we would meet in California, Texas, Kansas. I had them to my summer home in Maine twice, and usually wives were, are all part of it. So we had a nice good time. They're all dead now. SY: It sounds like in some ways, the most intense experience was in late September at the Foret de Parroy. Am I pronouncing that right? PM: Oh yeah, Foret de Parroy. That was a tough one. SY: Do you want to talk about that? PM: Well, I think I mentioned the minefields. SY: Yeah, but why don't -- I mean, I've read the description, but people who are going to be reading the oral history won't have. So what happened there? PM: Well, we as a recon unit, were asked to take the left side of the woods, and 79th Infantry had the rest of it. It was one muddy road and fortunately, the tanks could maneuver in the light wooded area. So we find our own. But it was dense wooded, rainy, mud, and the Germans were shooting into the trees. So the shrapnel was coming down on you from wherever. And the minefields were never laid in any rational form, you just didn't know. And I don't know if I mentioned, but I called one of my tank commanders and asked him to go to headquarters for the recon group. Because we were all -- five or six tanks were all here in a line. And he jumped off the tank and right on a mine, and dead just like that. And the same -- the next day, we called on the radio and said, well, it's a minefield we're in. We need the engineers to come down with the magnetic mine finders, and they came down. And had fire breaks, and they found a way to get in. But they get there and they tripped one of these what they called a Bouncing Betties, and the shrapnel goes out at three feet. I think a dozen of them were down. And I had to go with a knife blade on hands and knees to crawl in there, with a doctor behind me. And I did a lot of the shots while he was cutting off legs and obviously tourniquetting, and Novocain for pain, and then whatever else we could do. We saved them all, but it was -- it was a messy ordeal. Fortunately, we got -- we were able to get them on stretchers, and put them on the back of the tanks and get them out of there. So anyway, we were all alive, but not in good shape. SY: And it sounds like a bunch of your sergeants asked to be relieved, what was that? SY: Yeah, two of my National Guard guys. Well, this was toward the end of that month in the woods. And these were big stoic National Guard from Illinois, and I thought one was my sergeant major and the other was a sergeant. Surprisingly to me, they came one day and said, lieutenant, we've had it. We just can't handle it anymore. And I thought these guys would be sturdy and strong, and I was wrong. But I told them there's no -- if you're not up to it, you're -- got the shakes, you're not gonna do me any good. SY: Did they have the shakes? PM: Yeah, there was -- kind of think they just couldn't handle it anymore. SY: And had they been there a long time? PM: Well, they'd been with us all the way through to that point. SY: And had they -- PM: But they were in the National Guard for years before. So I thought, you know, these are guys that know it and have been promoted up the ranks. Ones I was not expecting to lose. But I replaced them with corporals and made them -- and they stayed with me the rest of the war. SY: And did the sergeants get sent home? Was it shell-shock? Was it -- PM: I never knew what they -- I wasn't gonna follow. They weren't shell-shocked, but they were just at the point of no return, I guess, best way of stating it. SY: I know, you know, it's much more common to talk about the difficulties of combat and the aftermath, but your generation doesn't talk about it that much. It wasn't something that you guys talked about with each other, and it doesn't sound like you really have lasting effects from that difficult time. PM: I don't think so. I would say that on all of the gatherings we had -- the eight officers, we never refought the war. We never get into that. We talked about things of our present day life, family, and just enjoyed each other's company socially. SY: OK. So then it sounds like you moved through, then around the Battle of the Bulge, what happened? PM: They -- by that time, we were -- then our whole corps had moved, the 7th Army. Seventh was the Army that came up from the South. And they had a couple of corps, and they split us off from Patton, and we moved. So 3rd and 7th ran parallel through France and most of Germany, but when the Bulge hit, they were the closest. So two of their armored divisions and the recon -- similar to our recon, they moved north and went, I guess, 40 or 50 miles. We had to fill that gap they left, and we had to spread our troops out, and that's what we did. And I was in touch -- one of the four officers that had gone to Fort Knox from Norwich with me, Hal [Solon?] was in that armored group -- recon group. And I sent him a note, and he was already -- he had lost a leg, and was already on his way home. So I got a note back when it caught up with him, what had happened. So he never got up to the Bulge, he had already gotten -- but I saw him afterwards. He was active with Norwich after the war. He did fine. SY: And then it sounds like, you know, by spring, the tide has turned, right? And you're having very different experiences, all of these sort of bizarre experiences that make for good stories, right? Like, rescuing the king of Belgium. PM: Well, that was the end. And that was a happenstance and -- because the town of Strobl was -- we were told to stop here in St. Gilgen, the town of Strobl was eight miles down on the lake. And this was a gorgeous lake, about 10-12 miles long. Across from where we were in St. Gilgen, was six-seven foot high mountains. Gorgeous scenery, and Wolfgangsee was where we were. And Wolfgang town was down here, and Strobl was here, and we were here. And these -- two of the prince in Teylingen, bicycled up to St. Gilgen on an afternoon. And we were staying in this hotel, which obviously, we took over. And they come up on the porch, and we offered them a scotch. And they, sure, that'd be nice. But our mission is we want you to come to Strobl and liberate us. We've got a lousy mayor who's a tough Nazi, and he's made it -- made life miserable in the community. So we said, well, we don't have any orders. But we said, well, maybe it doesn't matter. We'll just get four officers, and we'll take my tank, and we'll just go out it. At dark, got out of the motor pool. And since we're officers, we tell the guards what we're -- where we're going. So we did. Out we went about 10 o'clock, and about 11 or before that, we arrive. And they met us at the entrance of the town. It took us right to the mayor's office, where -- but it was really fun because one of the officers had been translating for the -- some part of the government. Translating German and French, censoring material. So he could speak better German. I could speak German, but not that well. And so Nat hopped out and told the mayor that he was a no-good son of a gun, and he was through. He was our prisoner, and we were liberating the town. But the whole town was out in their pajamas having a real celebration. And then they had a nice -- Teylingen had a lovely party for us. And I think we mentioned it -- SY: Because it was you or the Russians, right? In terms of getting liberated. PM: Well, the Russians would've gotten there if we hadn't gotten there. SY: And so the town was hoping it was the Americans not the Russians. SY: Oh, they certainly didn't want the Russians. And we did send a couple officers to meet the Russians. I don't know exactly where they did, but they did meet them and got drunk on vodka. But so I can't remember exactly how far they were from. But we then learned about Leopold the next day, and that's how that all -- SY: So then you already had done one thing without orders, and then you did the next thing without orders, right? PM: Well, we didn't take the tank the next day. We took that Von Ribbentrop's six-wheel Mercedes, the staff car. All full leather seats, a gun rack in the assistant driver. The driver was on the left side, same as our cars. Not like the English. And had a rifle rack right there for the assistant. And then you could have five seats in the back to (inaudible) [00:34:20], and beautiful. And we went to Prince Von Furstenberg's house. First thing he asked about 10:30, can I get you a drink? And we had Bloody Marys, and sat there and talked, and his mother came out. And [Gerhard?] was a real gentleman, and we did see him after the war. We went back again 30 years, and he as in Vienna then, and he came out to have a reunion with us. SY: This was the Prince of Belgium? PM: He was the Prince of Austria, the Von Furstenberg family, famous family. He had been fighting on the Russian front, and he'd come back -- by that time, he'd come back. SY: Fight with? PM: With German. He had a fight with a German Army against the Russians. SY: Right. So it's odd that you were -- PM: He was out of the army by then, and back in Vienna. But he had a summer home in Strobl, and that's how he -- I don't know whether he was injured or what, but he had the -- something happened, because he had been in the fight earlier. So -- SY: Was it strange to spend time with somebody who had been on the other side? PM: Oh no, he was in -- he wouldn't have been -- he wouldn't have been in the Army if he hadn't been force to be. That, he wouldn't. It's when Germany took over Austria. SY: Yeah, yeah, the Anschluss. And then there are some other things that were really interesting. First of all, you talk about hearing about Dachau. PM: We sent one our men to go to Dachau. SY: And then when he came back, did he report to you? PM: To tell us what he saw, and the horrible scenes that he saw. I have no interest in going, because I knew -- and couple of places we found -- graves with 20-30 people. They hadn't been buried, they just laid in the graves. So we saw enough of that without even -- for me, wanting to go. SY: So you weren't surprised to hear about the concentration camps? PM: No, no. We knew about that before. You know, we were well aware of the horribleness of the Holocaust. The genocide, if you will. SY: Because people back in the US didn't really know yet about the Holocaust. PM: No, they didn't. I guess they didn't realize it. I -- maybe they didn't publicize it, but of course, I was here and knew about it. And there were more than a few, because they were in Poland and Germany. What was it, six million Jews that they killed? SY: At least six million. And then there were -- and then, you know, there were other groups that they killed as well. So we don't know the total new number. So I'm wondering if there were any other distinctive memories of your time in Europe that you sort of want to get in the record. Have we talked about the highlights? Are there any other sort of, you know, critically important moments? PM: Well, there were a lot of them important moments when I got hit -- when my tank got hit with a 75 shell, bounced off, didn't hurt us. But if I'd stayed there any longer, the second shell would've gotten me. You know, we had close calls like that. And mines were really the worst, because we could find the fighting units, the guns, and avoid them if we could. But the mines, you just had to be on the alert, and suspect that this might be a place that -- fortunately, my recon guys were pretty sharp. And we noticed areas and checked them before we just ran over them. And so -- but I lost two tanks to mines, teller mines. And both cases, my guys lost their legs, because the whole plate of armor came -- folded right up, and just cut them off here. But we, again, saved them and -- with plasma and tourniquets. And I went to visit one of them after the war, and he was already outfitted with a brand-new Oldsmobile. You didn't need any feet, you could do everything from the hydra-matic drive. And so he was -- he had been a truck driver, and he was -- but my -- I had one episode when -- I don't know if I mentioned in there, when we were attacking the town, and one trooper cavalry was on the hardpan road. And we had gone up the back woods overlooking the town from another direction. We thought we'd coordinate two troops with -- and they got stopped by a road block that they couldn't penetrate. And they were fighting, and we jumped off from the woods. Turned out, the field was mud, and two of the tanks just went right in the mud. Couldn't go, they got stuck. My tank, I just told my driver, I said, George, take your hands off the laterals. Don't try to control it. Just keep the full speed. And it kept moving, and we did get to the one single road across. Fortunately, I did, because I had a platoon of the recon troops who had taken over some trenches close to the town. But they had kicked the Germans out of it and taken over, but they needed someone there to support them. So I had to stay there for about five hours, and the Germans were shooting at me. And I bet at least I had 200 rounds shot at me, but we kept moving the tank. Didn't keep it in one place. And I was firing up where I knew they were shooting. So they claim I might have gotten one of the guns. I don't know, never would worry about that. But I stayed with them until dark. When they withdrew, I withdrew. So we saved them. They -- SY: What happened to the two tanks that got stuck in the mud? PM: When I -- I called them on the radio and told them to abandon, but put grenades in the gun and blow the guns. So they were disabled. After the war, they were still there. Still there for -- I don't know where they are now. SY: Did you go -- did you see them? Did you go back to Europe and see them? PM: I didn't go back. We went back 30 years later, but someone who had been there said the tanks were there. But they were no -- well, they were no good, because the guns were ruined. SY: Right, you disabled them. I wonder how they got rid of those tanks. I wonder how they moved them eventually. PM: Well, they had to wait until there was solid ground, and they'd have to go in with a crane and pull them out. But -- so they might be in a museum somewhere around. SY: They might. Who knows? Do you think you were a good leader, and do you think Norwich prepared you well for war? PM: Oh, I think Norwich -- everything regarding the military and Norwich was fine and appropriate for what we needed as officers going into combat. We had --- even though we were on horseback, we still had a lot of background and realized what was involved in fighting. And so I have no bad feelings at all about anything that I learned at Norwich. I think I could put it to use and -- SY: And do you think you were a good leader and a good officer? PM: Well, I ended up as a captain, so I didn't -- and I couldn't get promoted. Because at the time when I was a platoon leader -- because we had three platoons, 17 tanks, and each platoon was assigned to one recon troop. So when they were out -- I usually was B Troop because I was 2nd Platoon. But the company commander and the exec officer never fought. My tank company, they were at headquarters all the time. They never were fighting and -- because 1st Platoon was A Troop, 2nd Platoon -- B Troop, and C Troop, and they -- we never fought as a tank company. So they just were -- but there were no promotions either. You couldn't get to be the company commander because -- but in the econ troops, there was movement, because they can move to headquarters. And from -- and a number of them did. They could go from captain to major, and be at headquarters in another role. And then -- and that's what happened in B Troop. Lieutenant Bennett, who was with me -- who I fought with, he got promoted to captain when his company commander moved to headquarters. But there was no movement in the tank. SY: No, that makes sense. So let's talk about -- because I know, you know, we don't have endless time. So let's talk about you getting home and what it was like. First of all, did you -- what made you decide to leave the Army? PM: I didn't. SY: You didn't? PM: I didn't. I stayed in the Reserve. SY: Oh, you did. OK. But you didn't want to be career Army? PM: Oh no. I had no idea of career Army. SY: What was you thinking about that? PM: Well, I had no intent, but since I was in the Reserve, I was part of a tank battalion that met in Stanford, Connecticut every two weeks. And I was serving -- well, I was a captain, but I was serving in a major's role. And we did training, and we did -- and I was in until '51, I guess it was. So I was still active. But right in the middle of that the Korean War was just getting going. Two business came to me and asked me to go to Washington on a dollar a year assignment to handle the tool and die industry. They hadn't had a director of the tooling industry in World War II. They'd had machine tools and related, but they never had tool and die. And then they realized that they needed that because there were about 3,000 tool and die shops, and those tools were put on machine tools. So you can't have a machine tool, you got to put the molds and dies in the fixtures. So because I would -- I had finished -- I had gone back to MIT after the war. Because I had advanced degrees -- these businessmen who ran beautiful businesses, you know, had come through apprentice route, didn't have college background. They felt they wanted a -- should have a college person down there. So I ended up doing it for a year, and it that was what I called a graduate degree in government. You learned about Washington. I was there five days a week. Came home Friday night, flew back, and then went to my office all day Saturday and Sunday morning. Got on the Sunday night train out of Bridgeport, got into Washington Monday morning at 7:00, and went right to the office. SY: That sounds exhausting. PM: Well, it was so -- it was a busy year. SY: Did you have a family at that point? PM: I had one son, and a wife, and a little house here in Fairfield close to water -- and very pleasant. And she had her own car, and we had two cars. And -- but most the time, she drove me to the station, and then she'd pick me up in Newark when I flew back. So bring the youngster down with us. But -- SY: Oh, sorry. PM: Go ahead. SY: When you first came back, what was it like to adjust to civilian life again? PM: Well, it was -- I had 90 days of leave. I got out of -- I had to go back to Massachusetts at the camp -- oh, I forget. And we had to go back there to bust her out. But -- and my sister drove up and picked me up. And I was engaged at the time, and by February, I got married. And we took a week's long honeymoon down south and visited some of the World War II officers I had served with. And then a week later, I was at MIT, and grad work for two years. And my wife and I lived in Boston in Needham, and she went to Boston University and took courses. So -- and then we had our -- we had our first son in the last semester of the second year. And -- but I had the company business where I had agreed to join the business when I was in the war. My brother -- four years older, had come back. He was in ordinance in India, and he was a major, and they sent him back to command school in Leavenworth to become a lieutenant colonel. But while he was back, he took time and took a look at our factory and what was going on. And he wrote me a -- about a 10 page letter describing what's happening, and inviting me to consider joining him as a partner if I was interested. SY: And was it -- had it been your father's business? PM: My father was the president of the business, and -- not the major owner, but he had three other owners. And what happened was I got the letter when I was in heavy combat, and I couldn't even read it for a couple of days. But then eventually I got around to answering it, and then right after, I got another letter. And I said, you know, I think two things. I've got to go back and go to MIT, and get up to date on business management and engineering. And then if I do that, I'm willing to join you, but I want equal ownership and I want equal salary, but I don't care about titles. But he was senior, and it worked for 45 years. SY: And over the course of your career, you witnessed, you know, the decline of American manufacturing. How did that affect your business and -- PM: Well, our business was -- well, I'd been out 25 years now. But the second generation -- my son who died, and my nephew who still runs the business, we didn't just -- we bought another business in Bridgeport and merged the two. And then started a whole new technology business in New Hampshire, which is doing fine. And the -- what's left here in Bridgeport is 20 percent of what it was, but the New Hampshire business has been booming. Mostly Asia and Europe, 25 percent here in America, but 50 percent at least, Asia and 25 here. And we have another third business out in New York State, and that's in small tools, and that's doing fine. And I had a business in Mexico for a while, and I started one in Canada for a while. They both -- I gave one away, and the other one just finishing up after 65 years. Winding it down, so that's gone. But the businesses are fine, and fourth generation is in it. My grand-nephews are now in their late 30s, early 40s, and they're digging in. So things have done very well. I'm out of it completely other than just life insurance -- should be. SY: So let's talk about Norwich. So when did you start getting -- when did you get on the board of trustees, and why did you want to back in -- you know, involved with Norwich again? PM: Well, when I was at Norwich, in addition to being president of the class and valedictorian -- as I told you, I was one of the trouble makers. With the fraternities, the old rules were that the freshmen would pay for the orchestra for carnival week, but not be allowed to attend. And I, for one, said that's nonsense. Either you let us in the fraternities before carnival week, or we're not about to pay a couple thousand dollars for a New York orchestra coming up for you guys to have a good time. Well, they didn't think that was -- the class ahead, who became juniors, they -- us -- they agreed to change the fraternity rushing to November. In fact, around Thanksgiving or after Thanksgiving. But they wouldn't rush the class after us, because we screwed it up. So they didn't want us. But -- and one of my father's business partners was SigEp, and he wanted me to go to SigEp. And -- but these guys were, we don't want you guys. Eventually, they invited me to Theta Chi, and I was happy. Then I became president of Theta Chi. And then later, I was president of the inter-fraternity counsel, which was quite a turnaround from screwing them up three years before. Anyway, I enjoyed it, but I -- we had bought land with Theta Chi across from where SigEp -- is where the president lives now. We had -- and Theta Chi is over there -- a new house. We were in an old three story big house on Central Avenue. We had the money and bought the land. And when I came back from the war, I wanted to find out what happened to the funds we had. Well, they had screwed around with it, and we raised hell. And finally they got back on track, and began to put some money aside and build a house. So I stayed with it. And for some reason or another, I stayed in the alumni association, but I was not president of it. I was vice president at the time. When typically, the president was invited to the board as one of the alumni, and Harmon asked me to do it rather than the president. Which was a little embarrassing. So I can came on for a five year stint. And then -- I don't know exactly what day it was, but 1970 was when I took over as chairman. And -- SY: And what was going on at Norwich in 1970? PM: Well, Harmon was the president. And at that time, we didn't have ladies in the corps, and Vermont College was independent. So a lot of things were -- I think we were 600 or so cadets, and now horses -- tanks were replacing the horses. And Norwich had built several new buildings, it was making good progress. The upper campus was -- I don't -- SY: And then Hart became president. PM: Well, Harmon -- this was let's see, 70 -- SY: Was is Hamlett after Harmon? PM: Hamlett came first. Harmon stayed until '65, and then the Vietnam War was a big factor. SY: And how did that change the climate of campus? PM: Well, I wouldn't say it -- we had to elect -- Harmon had -- I think had 15 years or whatever, and he wanted out. And we were able to get a four-star general, Hamlett, who was vice chief of staff of the Army, and a wonderful man. And -- but it was Harmon -- oh, and Bill Adams, who was chairman of the board, and Louie Cavat of the Cavat family. They left the board meeting when Bill Adams said, it's my turn to step down. So the three of them became a nominating committee of whatever we had -- 25 member board. They came back and selected me. I don't know why, because there were military officers there. There were others -- guys that -- SY: So what role -- so the Todds say you played a really critical role in kind of keeping Norwich together in hard times. So can you talk about those hard times and -- PM: Well, that was the Vietnam War, for one. And when Barksdale Hamlett had cancer in the back, and he had to leave for health reasons. It was a hell of job finding a replacement. Who in the Vietnam era at '72, wanted to be president of a military college. And we had search committee, a good search committee, and one was lieutenant general. We -- but he wasn't -- he said he's not up to doing that job. He was a good, wonderful person. And we interviewed a number of people, but military people weren't interested. So we came back to Loring Hart, who was head of the English department. And I had a difficult time -- one thing, the chairman and the president have got to have a good rapport. You got to work together, and got to understand each other. And Hamlett and I had had excellent communication, and there was never any problems. And he knew that I wouldn't interfere with his role, and I knew where the limits were. And faculty often would come to me and ask -- I'm not gonna bypass the president. You go there, not to me. And I told him explicitly and a matter of fact, I met the whole -- the staff faculty senate and told them. I'm not interfering with pay scales or tenure or anything, that's not my role. So we made that clear and -- but finding a new president, Loring was the best we could do. Well, you're on your way. SY: Nice meeting you. PM: OK. She's out to dinner. So that was an awkward period, and Loring was -- he wasn't good at selecting -- F1: Your car is blocking me. SY: Oh no. No problem, let me move it. F1: I should have thought of that sooner. PM: Anyway -- SY: So yeah, so what happened under Loring Hart? PM: Loring was a wonderful person, but difficult in selecting subordinance, putting them in the role. And that was true all the way through. And I just don't think he was a good enough administrator. At one point, I told him he had to go to -- back to -- I'm trying to think, the American -- anyway, they have courses for corporate executives. I said, you got to go to one of these for at least a week, and get some background in executive authority. And he did, because I lectured him time and again. You've got to get the right people in the right positions who are qualified to do what needs to be done. And you can't just select people because you like them. You got to know what they're capable of. So he got the message, and he did it, he went to San Francisco to let's see, American Association of whatever. I had been to courses up in New York State for corporate executives, and they were wonderful. They really helped you. And I met some Fortune 500 companies heads there. Made longtime friends with them. Anyway, we got that done, but at the end of eight years, we -- by then we had brought women into the corps. And that meant, you know, we had to clean out our barracks and allow that strictly for women, and we had to integrate them. And then Vermont College got in trouble, they didn't have sufficient endowment. And the president decided he was ready to leave, so there wasn't any conflict. And it made sense to us to merge with them, so we went through that merger during Loring's administration. And again, that was difficult because we had to change key people over there. And two or three times, he made the wrong choices. But finally at the end of eight years, I talked to the executive committee and said I think it's time we begin looking for a new president. Obviously, he and his wife resisted very much. SY: And were probably hurt. PM: Oh yeah, yeah. And -- but I said for the good of the university, we got to do -- got to do something. And it took two years to flush it out. And we were in the executive committee meeting in Boston, at the Ritz, and we had a vote. And the vote was that -- I don't know but the executive committee was probably 11 people then, and only one voted for him. And then we decided we needed to get a new president, and we had already had a search committee. And we had identified Russ Todd as the potential. And I can remember at that -- after we had made the decision on Loring, and we already had looked at and settled on five candidates, that Russ Todd was the best. And we went through a very rigorous procedure of criteria -- and of his background. And then also laid out an eight-point plan that he had to agree to as far as running Norwich, and what had to be done. SY: It seems like you two worked very well together. PM: We did. Yeah. The same with Barksdale Hamlett. SY: So what enabled you and Russ Todd to work so well together? PM: Well, because he knew right from the start that we had laid out what he had had to agree to to become president. And he didn't mince any words, he was very forthright about everything he did. Russ, you could depend on, no BS, he told you right straightforward how he felt and what he would like. And -- but as I said at the outset, you got to have a relationship -- SY: And he said, you know, that he'd call you and you'd talk for an hour -- for hours, and you'd give him advice. So what advice were you giving him? How did you sort of -- PM: Well, I can't tell you that, could I? SY: You can't tell me that. PM: Well, I don't know because whatever the issue was -- SY: And then how did -- it seems like Norwich got back on its feet, so what happened? How did it get back on its feet? PM: Well, one thing we -- when I finished as chairman, we really went after campaign fundraising. We had very little endowment back in the early days. The first job I took as I stepped down as chairman was a 16 million dollar fundraising drive to get us launched, and we did. We raised that 16. And then we had a very strong investment committee with Fred Weintz because of his Goldman Sachs background. He had connections and contacts, and so we were doing a thorough job of investment management. You know, using the right resources, and then continuing. And now -- of course, back then -- it was 40 years ago, we started doing that. A dollar is a little different today. And the new generation of business leaders and Norwich grads are much better off. And -- SY: So, I'm just wondering -- you know, I didn't ask you at the beginning of the interview why you decided to go to Norwich, but that question connects to sort of why does Norwich mean so much to you? You've dedicated a lot of your life and time to the institution. So why? What's special about it? PM: What's -- two things that started me, my family and my high school principal, Dr. -- Mr. Hedges. His sister was the registrar at Norwich. And I had grown up with horses. Two things. They felt I needed discipline, and I enjoyed the horse life. And I played polo with Norwich and things. So I -- and they had a good chemical program. And one of my dad's partners had suggested that maybe chemistry was a good start, because he had done a lot of work for DuPont. Knew about them, and said, maybe. So I said, well, why don't I take a chemistry course, and Norwich has a good one. And so the combination of all three. SY: Yeah, sure. But then why did Norwich continue to be meaningful in your life? A lot of people are like, yeah, I went to school there, who cares. But you really dedicated a lot time to it, so what is special about the institution? PM: Well, I think everything is special. Particularly, to see it prosper and grow, and begin to really have a place in the academic world -- strong place, and one you can be proud of. And comparing to Citadel and VMI and Texas A&M, and not -- nobody -- the officers that I was with in the service were Texas A&M. So they all were cavalry background too. So we had a lot of commonality. But just to -- well, the fraternity was one thing, and when we got rid of the fraternities, Harmon was still there. He called me on the phone and asked me to -- his -- my advice about the fraternities. And since I'd been head of the counsel and head of the Theta Chi, I said, well, sympathize what you're saying -- because they were disregarding the discipline. So I went up to Norwich and went to Theta Chi unannounced, and just observed and talked to few of the cadets. I called Harmon and said, I'm with you, let them go. They're a distraction for the university. And they did, and I'm still on Theta Chi's list because it's the Alpha Chapter. And I had given them some money, but I don't now. SY: How do you feel about Norwich as it is today? It's very different than it was then. I know some alumni aren't thrilled about there being civilians on campus and things like that. How do you feel about all that? PM: Well, I helped the merger, so I was there as part of -- and a lot of -- well, first, VC was in trouble. When we merged it, we were not planning to bring it over to the campus. But it became obvious after a few years that us commuting back and forth from classes and all of that, just you better have one campus, because you're not that huge a school. And I was happy at the second civilian dorm was finished -- 285 people, so that's pretty good size. And I also -- you know, this -- our society is not just the military. And I'm happy that we have civilians, but I think because of our military program and honor code and discipline, it rubs off on the rest of them. I think it makes them better than -- better students and better people, and their -- the value system. SY: Interesting. I don't know if I have any other questions for you. Anything you want to add? PM: Oh, I had not planned -- when I took the job, I -- usually, it's a five year term. And I had another board member whose father had been to Norwich, and White Chapel was -- that's the father that -- a name for him. And Bill White was a year behind me, and he was on the board then -- replaced his father. And I think we all agreed that Bill would be the next one to follow me. And I -- because I think because of his father's background and all of that, he thought maybe he would be the selected one, and he wasn't when Harmon and the others asked me to do it. But I said to him, five years is fine. He came down with cancer with four years later, and was out of it within a couple years -- he died. So then I was in deep trouble with Loring and getting into that part. Then we were into the school mergers and the women combat. Things were just ramping up, but we managed. But again, I say it's a relationship, and we had some wonderful people on the board that -- Walter Juckett who was vice chair with me. And I was a member of his foundation, and we ended with -- he had some stock in foreign companies that he'd gotten almost gratis -- Finland, Sweden, Norway, Canada, in the wood industry. And when either Goldman Sachs or someone went over and evaluated the value of all of what they all had, they came up to many millions. And when they were bought out, that went into the foundation. And when I was having lunch with Walter in Boston one day, I said, what do you think the foundation -- a portion was coming to Norwich. Oh, he said, probably a million. It ended up to be four or five million, because he had no idea what they were gonna pay. What they'd appraised it for and what it was sold for. So I stayed on his board, and he was in foundry and machine building for the paper industry. And I had a commonality of interest, and -- but Walter and I were just very good, good friends. And he was just a wonderful person, and I could go on with anecdotes about Walter. But we did a lot of things together, including lunch at the Waldorf. And when he went to Waldorf, the waiter came in, said, oh, Mr. Juckett, you want this kind of bread? And he didn't come there every day, he -- but he was very specific about what he wanted to eat. I can remember that. But anyway, those were little anecdotes of life with -- and John Charles Daly, who was on the board -- he was "What's My Line?" He was on TV. You remember that name? Goes back, you know -- SY: I think it's before my time. PM: -- 35 years. How old are you now? SY: Thirty-six. PM: Yeah, see that goes back. He was television "What's My Line?", and he was on the board of Norwich by virtue of one of the trustees. He was chairman of the -- of a boys' school in New Hampshire, and that person recommended him to come on the board, and we became close friends. And I played golf with him down in Washington where he lived. And his wife was the daughter of the former chief of Supreme Court justice, but that was his daughter. But he was -- you know, his English language was perfect for (inaudible) [01:23:19]. And he just -- he was very serious about important things, but he was just full of fun when you got through all the heavy business. He just had a good time. So -- SY: So you had a good time on the board? PM: Yeah. Those were the kind of -- but we had a 30 member board. We brought six from VC onto the board, and they were good people. Then we had -- well, we had a lovely group of women on the board, who -- one was a lawyer in Washington, who -- topnotch person. We had -- SY: Were you involved in the decision to sell VC eventually? PM: Oh, that was over -- past my time. With -- once we moved over here, there was no reason not to sell it, and it was sold to good people. So there was no question about -- it was great property. And if someone who -- from Cincinnati -- SY: Well, they actually sold it just, you know, 10 years later -- less than 10 years later. But it's doing fine now, because it's now independent, Vermont College of Fine Arts. PM: Yeah, I don't know what it is now. SY: Yes, Vermont College of Fine Arts, it's actually doing very well. But Union Institute, that was short lived and not actually great, but -- PM: We also took part of the Marshfield College -- SY: Goddard. PM: Goddard. We took the graduate program from Goddard, and they were unionized. And we got rid of the union, brought those professors over, and they were excellent professors. They were topnotch people. SY: And they were at VC. PM: At VC? SY: Yeah. PM: Yeah, but they wanted out of Goddard too. SY: They did, because it was so unstable. PM: Well, it was a commune. SY: Well, actually, because I've interviewed a bunch of them, they didn't -- they -- a lot of them believed in Goddard's educational vision, but it wasn't economically sustainable for them and their families. PM: But they lived out in the woods with a -- I went to the campus, and I agreed that they wanted to keep their undergrad program. Yeah, that's fine. And it fitted for a certain type of people, so I was happy with that. SY: Sounds like a lot of really important decisions were made during your tenure on the board. PM: Well, I think it eventually stabilized. And in perspective looking back at it, it's hard to know how we would have done it differently in light of the circumstances. Vermont's a little different state than some others, you know? Not an easy state to do things in. So you have to put that in reasonable relationship to everything else that happened. But it -- you know, it's a changing society. It's a changing technology, which I used to be involved with. When I think back when I finished work, and where the technology is today, and then when you think of the social media that all you guys fool around with -- iPhones and oh, whatcha -- Twitter and Facebook and -- you know, I say fine, that's -- social media's great. It's done a lot of business and advertising and all that. I personally prefer person-to-person discussion, either a small group or big group. I don't want to be texting -- driving along, texting. That's not -- you know, I'm not gonna do that. Period. I have a cellphone, and I don't use it much, but I have it for safety if I need it. But when you're 93, you don't -- SY: You're certainly not gonna text and drive when you're 93. PM: I still drive, but I wonder whether I should sometimes when you get on the road. The way people cut you off and zoom, zoom. SY: Yeah, it's a fast part of world too. All right, well speaking of person-to-person contact, let's let you get to your dinner with your neighbor. PM: Well, yeah. END OF AUDIO FILE

Issue 10.3 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; Blesssed Claude Colombiere and Devotion !:he Sacre bleart: C. A. Herbst, S.d. 44~rHIS is he whom. I send thee." Margaret Mary heard these | words interiorly as she sat listening to the first instruction Father Claude de la Colombi~re gave the Visitandine com-munity at Paray-le-Monial towards the end of February, 1675. Here was the fulfillment of a promise. Our Lord had appeared many times, asking her to promote devotion to His Sacred Heart. Over-whelmed at the thought, "My sovereign Master had promised me shortly after I had consecrated myself to Him that He would send: me one of His servants, to whom He wished me to make known'. according to the knowledge He would give me thereof, all the treas-ures and secrets of His Sacred Heart which He had confided to.me. H~ added that He sent him to reassure me with regard to my interior way, and that He would impart to him signal graces from His Sacred Heart, showering them abundantly over our interviews." (Autobiography of St. Margaret Mary, .Visitation Library, 1930. No. 80.) That the Sacred Heart, the heart of Margaret Mary, and the heart of the young Jesuit should be united in love, Our Lord. showed the Saint in a vision. "As I went up to receive Him in Holy Com-munion, He showed His Sacred Heart as a burning furnace, and two 6ther hearts were on the point of uniting themselves to It, and of being absorbed therein. At the same time He said to me: 'It is thus My pure love unites these three hearts for ever.' He afterwards gave me to understand that this union was all for the glory of Hi,s Sacred Heart, the"treasures of Which He wished me to reveal to him that he might spread them abroad, and make known to others their value and utility. To this end He wished we should be brother and sister, sharing equally these spiritual treasures." (Ibid., No. 82.) The Extraordinary Confessor "'So it was according to a very special providence of God that Father Colombi~re was appointed superior of the small Jesuit com-munity in Paray ~arly in 1675. Our Lord wanted him to bethe sympathetic, enlightened, and fearless director of Margaret Mary and 1'13 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious the first public promoter of devotion to His Sacred Heart. Named extraordinary confessor to the convent, he came on the Lenten Ember Days towards the beginn{ng of March, .1675. Margaret Mary herself relatds what took place on that occasion. "Although .we had never either seen or spoken with each other, the Reverend Father kept me a very long time and spoke with me as though he understood what was passing within me. But I would not in any way ope, n my heart to him just then, and, seeing that I wished to withdraw for fear of. inconveniencing the community, he asked me if I would allow him to come and speak with me again in tl~is same place~ But in my natural timidity which shrank from all such communications, I re- .plied that, not being~ at my own disposal, I would dO whatever obedience ordered me. I'then withdrew having remained with him about an hour and a half." (Ibid., No. 80.) She was still timid, uncertain, afraid. But shortly after, her superior, M~re de Saumaise, "having had him return, ordered our virtuous sister to talk to him, in order to reassure herself as to what was taking place in her" (Gauthey, Vie et Oeuores, ~i, 133). Mar-garet Mary continues: "Before long he again returned, and although I kn~w it to be the Will of God that I should speak with him,, I nevertheless felt an extreme repugnance to be oblig(d.to do so. I'told him so at once. He replied that"he was very pleased to have given me an opportunity of making a sacrifice to God. Then, without trouble~or method, I opened my heart and made known to him my inmost soul, both the good and bad; ,whereupon he greatly consoled me, ~issuring me that there was nothing to fear in, the guidafice~of that Spirit, since It did not withdraw me from obedience; that I ought to follow Its movements, abandoning to It my whole being, sacrificing arid :imhaol~i~ myself according to Its good pleasure . Having mentioned some of the more special favors and .expressions of love which I received from this Beloved of my soul, arid which I refrain from describing here, he said that ~n all ~his, I had great cause to humble .myself and to admire the mercy of God in my regard." (Autobio~rapby~ No. 81.) First Dis'closure This was the first time she had ever told anyone of the revela-tions of the Sacred Heart to her. "I assure you," .she wrote later, "that it was to this good Father that I made the first disclosure. My sovereigri Master ordered m~ to do so. He showered on him on this 114 ' Mag, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE occasion more graces than He had ever given him before." (Vie et Oeuvres, II, 543.) ~ But humiliations came, too. "The Reverend Father himself had much to suffer on my account. For it was said that I wanted to deceive him and mislead him by my illusions, as I had done others. He was, however, in no way troubled by what was said. but con-tinued none the less to help me, not Only during the short time he remained in this town, but always. Many a time I have been sur-prised that he did not abandon me as others had done, for the way in which I acted towards him v~ould have repulsed any other." (Autobiography, No. 81.) Here indeed was put to the test the promise ~he had made to God of never doing or omitting through human respect anything that he thought to be' for the glory of God. Behold This Heart In June, 1675. during the octave of Corpt~s Christi, Our Lord made the last great revelation of His Sacred Heart to Margaret Mary. "Behold this Heart, Which has loved men so much. that It has spared nothing, even to exhhusting and consuming Itself, in 6rder to testify to ~hem Its love: and in return I receive from the greater ~number nothing but i.ngrati~ude by reason of their irreverence and sacrileges, and by the coldness and contempt which they show Me in this Sacrament of Love. But yghat I feel-the mo~t keenly is that it is hearts which are consecrated to Me that treat Me thus. Therefore, I ask of thee that the Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi be set apart for a special Feast to honour My Heart, by communikating on that day and making reparation to It by a solemn act, in order to make amends for the indignities which It has received during thb tim~, It has been e~posed on the altars. I promise thee that My Heart shall expand Itself to shed in abundance the influence of Its divine love upon those who Shall thus honour It, and cause It to be honoured." (Autobiography, No. 92.) Here was a clear statement, a bitter complaint, a definite and manifold request,-and a rich promise., And yet, what could a poor timid young nun in the cloister do about it? "'And when I replied that I knew not bow to accomplish what He bad so long desired of me, He told me to address, myself to His servant, .Wh, om He had sent me for the accomplishment of this design. Having done this, he (Father de la Colombi~re)~ ordered me to commit to writing all that I had .made known to him concerning "the Sacred Heart of Jesus, as well as several other thing,s.~whicb referred to It for the greater glory C. A. HERBST Review for Religious of God. This Was a cause of great ~omfor~ to me, as this holy man not only taught me how to correspond to His designs, but also reas-sured me in the great fear I had of being deceived which was a con-stant trouble to me."' (Ibid., No. 92.) The Guide for Falterin~l Steps So Father Colombi~re was ~be answer. He would guide her fab tering steps.and encourage her. T, he Life by' her contemporaries ex-pands the" narrative. "Address yourself to My servant, Father de la Colombi~re, Jesuit, and tell him for Me that he should do all in his power to establish this devotion and give this pleasure to My divine Heart. Let him not be discouraged by the difficulties he will en-counter, for they will not be wanting. But he should know that he is all-powerful who, putting off confidence in self, trusts i,mplicitly in Me." (Vie et Oeuvres, I, 138, 13.9.) It takes great courage and great spiritual insight to guide a mystic soul, especially when a riew devotion is to be introduced into the world through this soul. But "Father de la Colombi~re was a man of fine discernment. 'He was riot a man to g!ve credence to anything easily. But he had too striking proofs of the solid virtue of the per-son who was speaking to him to have the slightest fear of delusion in this matter. He accordingly took' up at once the ministry whikh God had just committed to him. In order to acquit himself of it effectively and perfectly, be decided to begin with himself. He ac-cordingly consecrated himself (together with Margaret Mary and only~ a few days aft+r the great apparition) completely to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He offered It everything in himself he thought capable of honoring an'd pleasing It. The extraordinary graces Which he received from this practice soon confirmed him in the esteem which he already bad of tbeimp6rtance and solidity of this devotion." (Ibid.) These Three Hearts Thus it was that "My pure love t~nites these three hearts for ever." M~rgaret Mary and Father Colombi~re bad truly become "brother and sister, sharing equally these spiritual treasures." But he must spread tl~e fire, too, as much as his little world and the 'short time allowed. "Though. he remained but a short time in the town, he never ceased inculcating this devotion in all his spiritual daugh-ters. He had them receive holy Communion in honor of the Sacred Heart on the Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christ." (Ibid., 116 Ma~l, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE 138, 139.) His apostola~te would become more extensive in another land. Late in the summer of 1676 Father Colombi~re was sent by his sunperiors to England to be confessor to th.e eighteen-year-old Mary of Modena, Duchess of York. He 'left Paray towards the latter part of September. Naturally, Margaret Mary.could not but have a sense of foreboding and feel the loss-of him very much, but Christ's "my grace is sufficient for thee" of another day brought her the same courage and strength it did St. Paul. "I received this blow with perfe.ct submission-to the Will of God, Who had allowed him to be of such use to me during the short time he had been here. When I ventured afterwards to reflect upon my loss, my Divine Master forth-with reproved me, saying: 'What! am I not sufficient for thee, I Who am thy beginning ~and thy last end?' This sufficed to make me abandon all to Him, for I was convined that He would not fail to provide me with'everything that was necessary." (Autobiographg, No. 93.) A Threefold Warning Before leaving Paray, a note from her was handed Father Co-" lombi~re. It contained a three-fold warning from heaven for him who was truly going to be a sheep among wolves. "1. Father de la Colombi~re's talent is to lead souls to God; therefore the devils-will do all in their power against him. He will meet with trouble,~ even from persons consecrated to God, who will not approve of what he says in his sermons t"o convert them; but in these crosses the goodness of God will be his support, so .long as he continu,es to trust in Him. 2. He must have a compassionate gentleness for si~nners, and only use severe measures when especially inspired by God to do so. 3. Let him be particularly careful not to separate good,from its source. ~This sentence is shortl but contains much which God will enable him to understand according to the diligence with 'which he applies himself to find its meaning." (Sister Mary Philip,,A Jesuit at the English Court, 115.) J , He accepted this note a~ a message from heaven. Although contained almost as many mysteries as it did words," he would be shown in his London retreat during the second half of January, 1677, its immediate and immensely~practical and detailed usefulness. "Truly," he ~wrote February 7, 1677, "Our Lord left nothing more to be said. There was (in that note) saving advic@ against all the evils that could befall me" (Vie et Oeuvres, I, 142). "These were " 1 17 C. A. HERBSr Review ior Religious counsels to fit p~sent circumstances and°'remedies against thoughts and plans that were troubling me and that were Very much opposed to those of God" (Ibid.). And later: "That helped very much to steady me. For I was tempted to abandon everything for fear of an outburst which might give scandal and wound charity" (Ibid.; 143). "The'note from Sister Alacoque strengthens me very much and gives me reassurance in a thousand doubts which come to me every~day" (Ibid., 144). It is x;ery clear that a few enlightened,words from Margaret Mary were helping her director to make his soul ready to be a great apostle of the Sacred Heart. Colorobi~re's Consecration By the time his retreat of 1677 ended, Father Colombibre was prepared to give himself over' fully and solemnly to the Sacred Heart. Six months before at Paray he had consecrated himself in a simple way to that Heart.' Since then, much light and. many graces had come to him. Under the influence of these he had slowly and care-fully, determined that, from now,on~ his life would be c6mplet'ely "dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. "This offering is made' in order to honour that Divine Heart, 'the seat of all virtues, the source¯ ¯ of all blessings, and the refuge of all holy souls . In reparation 'f~r so many outrages and for such cruel ingratitude, most adorable and amiable Heart of Jesus, and to avoid as far as I can such a mis-fortune, I offer .to Thee my heart, with all its movements. I give myself entirely to Thee, and henceforth I protest most sincerely that I desire to forget myself and all that. relates to me, in order to remove any obstacle which might impede an entrance into this Divine Heart, which Thou hast the goodness to open to me, and into which I hope: to enter, to live. and die there with Thy most faithful servants, penetrated and inflamed with Thy~love. I offer to this H~art all the 'merit and all the satisfaction of all the Masses, pkayers, acts of mortification, religious practices, acts of zeal, of humility, of obedience, and of all the other virtues which I shall practise until the. last moment of my life. I do so not only to honour the Heart'of Jesus and its admirable dispositions, but I also humbly beg Him to accept the entire oblation which I make to Him, to dispose of it ,in the manner which shall please Him, and in favour of whom pleases . " (A Jesuit of the E.nglish Court; 125, 1"26.) His offering and his retreat end with a prayer to the Sacred Heart. "Sacred Heart of Jesus, teach me perfect forgetfulness of self, since 118 M a~ , 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE , this is~the only way one can enter into Thee. Since everyth!ng.I shall do in the future will be Thine. grant that I may do nothing unworthy of Thee. Teach me what I'must do to obtain pule love for Thee. that pure love for which Thou ha~t inspired the desire in me. I feel within me a great desire of pleasing Thee and an even greater powerlessness of doing so without very special light and help. These I can obtain only from Thee. Do all Thy will in me. 0 Lord. I well know that I oppose,It, but I'earnestl~ desire not to do so. "Thou must do everything, divine Heart of Jesus. and oTbou alone shalt have all the glory of my sanctification if I-become holy. That appears to me as clear as day. All this will. bring gr~at glory to Thee, and it is for that alone that I desire to be perfect.Amen." (A. Haman, Histoire de la D~votion au Sacr~ Coeur, III. 296) The apostle was now immolated to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus. The apostle at once set to work. He wrote from London soon after: "I knew that God wanted me to serve Him by obtaining the accomplisbment of His designs with regard to the devotion which He has revealed to a person He communicates with very intimately. For this it has pleased Him to make use of my weakness. I have alreadY, inspired many people in England with it. I have also written of it to France and asked one of my friends to spread it in the place where he is. This devotion will be very useful there, and the great number of chosen souls in this community leads me to think that its practke in that fervent house will be very pleasing to God." (Georges Guit-ton, Le Bienbeureux Claude La Co[ombi~re, 444.) First Sermon on Sacred Heart March 24, 1677, the third Wednesday of. Lent and th%~ve, of the feast of the Annunciation, Father Colombi~re thought the hour bad come for him to speak publicly of devotion to the Sacre, d Heart, In his sermon, On .the Patience of Jesus'Suffering, he invited his hearers in St. James palace: "Let.us enter into the Heart of the Son of God and see what are Its sentiments with regard to His enemies. .They are sentiments of indescribable sweetness. Note their various degrees and effects. All He suffers from His persecutors does not pre-vent Him from excusing them. He knows they are acting through ignorance, and no matter how great .their envy, human respect, self interest, barred, pride, injustice, and the intensity of their wrath, this Heart, full of goodness, is eager rather to excuse and diminish the 'gravity oftheir sin than to make them more guilty . .~. Jesus.not 119 C. A. HERBST Reuieto for Religious only excuses His executioners. He is moved with deep compassion for them. He bewails their blindness and the evils they are drawing on themselves. - He says in His Hearti 'If thou didst but. know in this thy day the things that are to thy peace.' He knows that the evils that befall Him are scarcely evils'at all compared with theirs. 'Weep not over Me ' Jesus is moved with love for His enemies. , He feels a real and efficacious compassion for them. He prays for them, He suffers for them, He suffers for them with tenderness. He wishes to save them, and He does so. His prayer, is not in vain. These same souls are the ones converted by the sermon of St. Peter . Let the Heart of Jesus be our teacher, our school. Let us make our abode in this Heart during this Lent. Let us study Its every movement and endeavor to conform ours to them. Yes, divine Jesus, i want to live in this Heart. I want to pour all my bitterness into It. TlSere it will be consumed. I do not fear that impatience will attack me in this place Of refuge. There in perfect security I shall exercise myself in.silence, in resignation to the divine will, in invin-cible constancy. Every day I shall offer prayers of thanksgiving for the crosses Thou sendest me and ask Thee to give grace to those who persecute me . " (Oeuvres du R. P. Claude de la Cotombi~re, VI, '249-251.) ~ This was the first sermon ever preached on devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus in its modern form. It is remarkable how it re-echoes the virtues expressly mentioned by Our Lord as characteristic of His Heart the one and only time He expressly mentions that Heart in the gospels: "Learn of me, because I am meek and humble of heart" (Matt. I 1:29). Around this same theme and these same sweet and consolii~g words ~3f Christ the Church has built one of h~r most. poPular and' practical p~rayers to th,e SaCred Heart: "Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make my heart like unto Thine." English Queen's Request 4. Father Colombi~re remained two years in London. There he continued, in public and in private, to promote devotion to the Sacred Heart. The prime object of his zeal naturally would be his spiritual child, Mary, Duchess of York, later (1.685-1688) Queen ¯ of England as wife of James II. She was the first royal conquest for the devotion. Exiled after 1688 and living in France, ~he was the first royal personage to petition the Holy Father for the establish-ment of a solemn feast in honor of the Sacred Heart.of Jesus, for 1~20 May, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE which Our Lord Himself had:asked. A feast'in honor of the Sacred Heart was not granted because of the many difficulties of the times, but on March 30, 1697 "the Sacred Congregation of Rites, in response to the~urgent request of Her Most Serene Maiesty, Mary, Queen of England, has graciously grar~ted the Nuns of the ~Visitation of the Most Blessed ,Virgin of St. Francis de Sales that in their churches each. year on the Friday following the octave of Corpus Christi not only priests attached to their churches but others also coming there on this day may celebrate the Mass of the Five Wounds of Jesus Christ." His Holiness, Innocent XII, approved.this decree April 3, 1697. ( Histoire de la D~votion art Sacr~ Coeur, III, 375.) Not until 1765 was a Mass of the Sacred Heart approved. In 1856 it was extended to'the whole Church and in 1929 raised to the rank - of a feast of the first class. Accused in England of taking part in a conspiracy, the queen's chaplain was arrested and imprisoned about the middle of November, 1678, and "exiled" to France. Ill and very weak from tuberculosis and imprisonment he passed through FranCe in slow stages, arriving in Dijon about the end of January. There his old friend from Paray, M~re de Saumaise, was mistress of the Visitandine novices. He bad to address them, of course. One of them, Sister Jeanne- Madeleine Joly, wbuld one day compose the first collection of prac-tices of piety in honor of the Sacred Heart and make one .of the first images of It. He told ~this Sister: "Anyone striving to spread this devotion will do a wonderful work for the glory of God." Sojourn at Paray Early in January, 1679, he had order0d Margaret Mary by letter to make to the Sacred Heart "a testament or donation without re-serve, in writing, of all that she could do or suffer, of all the prayers and spiritual goods anyone should offer for her during her life and after her ,death" (Vie et Oettt;res, I, 172). Father Colombi~re himsclf was to sign this if her superior refused. Towards the end Of Febru-ary he appeared in Paray in person, and spent ten' happy and fruit-ful days there, reassuring Margaret Mary and her new superior, M~re Greyfi~, with regard to the revelations of the Sac~ed Heart. When he arrived at Lyons March 23, he wrote "Our Lord taught me some days ago to make Him a sacrifice even greater still: to be de-termined to do nothing at all, if that be His will." While. taking his native air in the country at Saint-Symphorien ,121 C;. A. HERBST Review/:or Religious he wrote, as June 1, I679, feast of ~Corpus Christi, approached, to the superioress of the Visitation at.CharoHes: "I am writing you today only to urge you to have your whole commuhity~ make a special Communion, the day after the octave of Corpus Christi, not for my intention, but to make reparation, as far as lies in your power, for all the irreverences committed a.gainst Jesus Christ d_uring the whole octave He is exposed on our altars throughout the Chris-tian world. I assure you that this manifestation of love will draw down great blessings upon you. I advise you to continue this prac-tice all your life." (Le Bienheureux Claude La Colombi&e. 624.) He had hardly returned to Lyons at the end of May when he wrote his sister Elizabeth: "This practice was recommended to me by a persom of extraordinary piety. She assured me that all,those who ,gave Our Lord this mark of love would draw great profit" from it, Try gently to draw your friends to do the same thing. I'hope more communities will begin this devotion this year and continue it . always." (Ibid.) 'His Stairi~ual Son, Father Galliffet Somewhat recovered," Father Colombi~re was made spiritual father to some sixteen young Jesuits studying at Lyons during the two scholastic years 1679-1681. In one of these, Joseph de Galliffet. he,was to llve again. This man's great spiritul influence, knowledge of tbeolbgy, and gentle persevering way in spreading devotion to the Sacred Heart were to overcome many an obstacle put in its way. Half a century later, in the preface to his book, The Excellence of the Devotion to the Adorable Heart of Jesus Christ, he wrote: "In 1680, on leaving the noviciate, I had the good fortune of coming under the spiritual direction of Reverend Father Claude la Colombi~re, the director God had given Mother Margaret, then still living. It is from this servant of God that 'I received my first instructions on the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. I began then to appre-ciate and love it." F~ther Galliffet's book, still a classic on dev, otion to the Sacred Heart, is the voice of Father Colombi~re coming down to us through the years. He was removed from Lyons, very ill and weak, to Pa.ray in August, 1681. Naturally, he communicated with Margaret Mary. About November first.he writes: "Our Lord told her that, if I were well, I would glorify Him by my zeal, but that now, being ill, He is glorifying Himself in me." But Paray was no place for the sick 122 May, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE man either, so his brother sent a corn, fortable carriage to remove him to Vienne. It was January 29, the feast of St. Francis de Sales, a day dear to both himself and Sister Margaret. A note came from her: he should not leave Paray if he could remain without being dis-obedient. In writing he asked why: in writing he received an an answer. He stayed. Of what happened the next ten days we know nothing. Febru-ary 15, 1682,'at seven o'clock in the evening, he died of a violent hemorrhage. He was forty-two years of age, had been a Jesuit twenty-two years. At five o'clock next. morning a friend carried the news of his death to Margaret Mary. "Pray for him, and get Others to pray for him," she said. But at ten~o'clock the sarrie morning she sent a note: "Weep no longer. Pray to him. Fear nothing. He is more powerful to help you now than ~ver." Sister Margaret begged her friend to do all in her power to get back the last note she had sent Father Colombi~re. But the Jesuit :superior absolutely refused to surrender it, saying he had rather hand over all the archives of the house. To explain, he read it to her. "He has told me that it is here He wishes the sacrifice of your life," it said (Vie et Oeuores, I, 499). The Sacked Heart wanted His "faithful servant and p,erfect friend" tomremain always in Paray. The Retreat Brings Deootion to the Public The Retreat Father Colombi~re made in London in 1677 was published two years after his death. It became at once the great in-strument for promoting the devotion to the Sacred Heart, as it con-tained the great revelation "Behold this Heart . " and his act of consecration and prayer to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. His sanctity threw a halo around the devotion Sister ,Margaret"was trying to propagate, and his words that the revelatiofl was made "to a person with whom He communicates very intimately" pointed clearly to her. To her great humiliation, the Retreat was read in the dining room at Paray, but that removed prejudice against the devotion there. She concealed herself behind the Retreat. "We found this devotion in the book of the retreat of ReverendFather Colombi~re." she.wrote, "whom everyone venerates as a saint. I do not know whether 'you know him, or if you have the book of which I am speaking. But it would give me great pleasure to send it to you." (Vie et Oeuores, IE 324, 325.) "You would scarcely believe the good effects It (th( Sacred Heart) produces in 'souls who have the good fortune to know of It through this holy man who himself was 123 C. A. HER~3ST Review for Religious altogether devoted to It and lived only to make It loved,, honored, and glorified" (1bid., 328). Devotion to the Sacred Heart "is spreading everywhere through the medium of the Retreat of Rev-erefid Father. Colombi~re (Ibid., 476). Many decades later Father de Galliffet would say of the Retreat: "It was the first means Our Lord used to make public both the .revelation and the devotion to His Sacred Heart." Colombi~re's Intercession in Heathen Father Colombi~re continues ih heaven the mission begun here on earth of propagating devotion to the Sacred Heart~ Consoling his old friend and hers in difficulties she met with in spreading the devotion, Mother Margaret wrote Mother de Saumaise: "It ought to be a great consolation to you to have so close a union with the good Father' de la Colombi~re. For by his intercession in heaven he is re-sponsible for what is being done here on earth for the glory of the Sacred Heart. Bear up courageously, therefore, under all these little contradictions." (Ibid., II., 427.) "We must address,ourselves to His faithful friend, the good Father de la Colombi~re, to whom he has given great power and to whom, so to speak, He has:handed over whatever has to do with this devotion. I assure you in confidence that-I have received great help from him, even more than when he was here on earth. For, if I am not dece!ving myself, this devotion to the Sacred Heart has made him very powerful in heaven, 9nd has raised him higher in glory than everything else he did during his whole life." (Ibid., 551.) The Society of Jesus, Father Colombi~re's order, was to have a special place in promoting devotion to the Sacred Heart. In a vision of July 2, 1688 Margaret Mary saw the Sacred Heart, the Virgin Mother, St. Francis de Sales, the Daughters of the Visitation, and Father Colombi~re. After confiding to the care of the Daughters of' Holy Mary the precious treasure of the Sacred Heart, "turning to the good Father de la Colombi~re, this mother of goodness said: 'As for you, faithful servant of my divine Son," you have a great share in this precious treasure. For if it is granted the Daughters of the. Visita-tion to know and propagate it, it is reserved to the Fathers of your Society to make its utility and value known and understood, so that all may profit by it." (Ibid., 406.) Apostle of the Sacred Heart ¯ The process for the beatification of Father Claude de la Colom-blare, of the Society of-Jesus, was begun in 1874. He was declared 124 May, 1951 BLESSED CLAUDE COLOMBII~RE Blessed in 1929. In the considered judgment of the Church he is "an outstanding champion and promoter of devotion to the most Sacred Heart of Jesus . Given as guide and master to the holy virgin, Margaret Mary Alacoque, he directed her in ,a wise and holy fashion, especially with regard to devotion,to the most august Heart of Jesus, which from the beginning had not a few adversaries. Cham-pioning and defending it, he merited to be numbered among it chief promoters and outstanding apostles." (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 1929, 505.) Holy Church now prays: "Lord Jesus Christ, Who hast deigned to make Blessed Claude the faithful servant and outstanding lover of Thy Sacrdd Heart, grant us, through his intercession, that we may put on the virtues ~ind be inflamed with the affections of this same Sacred Heart." A prayer Sister Margaret wrote on the back of a picture of Father Claude is not so dissimilar to this. "O blessed Father Claude de la Colombi~re, I take you as my intercessor with ¯ the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. Obtain for me from His goodness the 'grace not to resist' the designs He has on my soul, and that I may imitate perfectly the virtues of His divine Heart." (~r[e et Oeuvres,, II, 826.) BIBLIOGRAPHY Books are listed in the order in which they are cited in the article. Autobiograph'y. Life of Saint Margare~ Mary Alacoque. Written by" Herself. Translation of the Autentic French Text by the Sisters of the Visitation. Rose-lands, Walmer, Kent. Visitation Library. 1930. A small book written by Sis-ter Margaret Mary with great pain under obedience. Simple, intimate, prayerful. Gauthey, Monseigneur. Ed. Vie et Oeuvres de la Bienheureuse Marguerite Marie Alacoque. Paris. Anclenne Librairie Poussielgue. 1915. 3 volumes. Volume one contains Sister Margaret Mary's Life written by her contemporaries, documents of the process begun in 1715 for her beatification, and some minor let-ters, etc. Volume twocontains her autobiography and 140 letters written by her. Volume three contains documents concerning miracles, archives, her superiors, fam-ily and parish. The three volumes are critically edited. Philip, Sister Mary. A desuit at the English Court. London. Burns, Oates and Washbourne. 1922. An excellent and very readable llfe ot~ Blessed Claude de la Colombi~re. Chapter 17 gives the Retreat he made in London in 1677. an appendix is printed the notes of his long retreat made in his third year of pro-bation after ordination. Hamon, A. Histoire de la Ddt~otion au SacN Coeur. Paris. Beauchesne. 1928 --4 volumes (incomplete). Volume one contains a critical life of St. Margaret Mary. Volume two sketches the history of the devotion to the Sacred Heart till the sixteenth century. Volume three deals with the religious orders and outstanding men and women connected with the devotion in France during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, .especially St. orohn Eudes and St. Margaret Mary. Volume 4 outlines the difficulties the new devotion met with and its progress to 1765, when 125 C. A. HERBST ~: " the Holy See'.approved the first Mass in honor of the Sacred Heart. Volume five, still~in prepar~tlon, will ;aarrate the royal triumph., Guitton, Georges. Le Bienbeureux Claude La Colo.mbi~re. Lyon. Librairie Catholique Emmanuel Vitte. 1943. Quite a long and very critical life: he takes even Hereon to task. Quotes heavily from Blessed Claude's sermons, correspond-ence, the documents of his beatification and the archives of the Society of Jesus. Gives thorough religious and political milieu and background of his life and times. Oeuvres du R.P. Claude de la Colornbi~re de la Compagne de dEsus. Lyon. Librairie Catholique de P~risse Fr~res. 1864. 6 volumes. Contains his sermons, retreat notes, correspondence. This, of course, is the great source on which all writers draw. This is an old edition, with paper turnin~g brown, small print and hard to read, but was the only one at hand. The newer edition is by Chattier, Oeuvres Cornpl&es, Grenoble, 1900-1901, 6 volumes. Volume six of this newer edition contains the Retreat and his letters. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, Rornae, typis polyglottis Vaticanis. In this work are printed the official acts of the Hbly See and the various Roman Congregations dealing with the canonization of saints and the like. It is published serially each year. REPRINTS: SINGLE SETS We are now able to sell sets of our reprint booklets for one dollar per set. The set includes on~ copy each of these bo.~klets~ No. 1: Articles on Prayer by Father Ellard; No. 2: Articles on "Gifts to Re-ligious," by Father Ellis; No. 3: Articles on Emotiotial Maturity, Vocational Counseling and the Particular Friendship., by Father Kelly. To order these single sets, please send one dollar and ask [or one set of reprints. Please address, your. order to: The Editors, Review for Religious, St. Mary's Colle~je, St. Marys, Kansas. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The" subscription price of REVI'EW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for all foreign subscriptions. For further details-please see inside back cover. ~ 126 Franciscan Spiri ualit:y Alexander Wyse, O.F.M. THE personality of Francis of Assisi was at once so singular, so attractive and so powerful that' today, seven and a quarter cen- " turies after his death, it truthfully is as familiar to the world as that of many living notables. His charm is perennial, his in-fluence seemingly indestructible, his life the subject of an exhaustless series of studies. But this persevering popularity is not merely the result of the unusually felicitous biographies that, even from his very age, have not ceased to paint and interpret his life. While he has indeed had the good fortune of a long train of articulate, admirers --some nai've, others penetrating; some objective, more partisan-- his fame rests clearly on the captivating force of his individual char-acter, on the strength of his personal winsomeness. His clients.may contribute to his undying reputation--but they bare success only because Francis himself is too living a figure ever to die. The Influence of St: Francis This fact is fundamental to a consideration of the specific nature of Franciscan spirituality, because in a sense and a measure perhaps unparalleled in any similar instance the individuality of Francis has founded and oriented the Franciscan school. The venerable Benedictine tradition, as an example, has its own distinctive qualities, deriving from the holy Rule. As the source of Benedictinism, that is a singularly unique document--precise, .mas-terly, definitive as a provision fo~ all possible needs of monasticism: but it is not. in any comparable way, a reflection of the personality of Benedict. By contrast, Franciscan spirituality leans but lightly on the several Rules which the Poverello wrote for his friars,-his nuns, and his followers in the world.1 Rather it looks to the person 1As a matter of fact. while he properly wrote no Rule for either the Second or the Third Order he wrote successively two Rules for the First Order, the Order "of Friars Minor. This fact would bear out the contention that the Rule occupies a relatively secondary place in Franciscan spirituality. It likewise helps to explain the ancient division--whlch in centuries past often amounted to very violent dis-sension-- over the meaning and the force of some of the prescriptions.of the Rule, notabl~; poverty. The Holy See had often to intervene in these disputes, had to promulgate official declarations of the true impbrt of, the disputed points, and has sanctioned three autonomous branches of the Order, each interpreting the mind of the Founder with its own constitutions. Since each of the three families looks with equal devotion to Francis. and with.equal right claims him as Founder and Father, in discussing Franciscan spirituality no distinction is necessary because of these diverse streams. 127 ALEXANDER WYSE Reoiew [or Religious of its founder--which, in his lifetime, was so highly original that it could only with difficulty be confined in the legal" terms' of a rule, and, after his death, has remained singularly fresbl highly distinctive, and extraordinarily fruitful. Rooted thus in the individuafity of the Seraphic Saint, the Franciscan school of spiritual theology has about it many of the features which explain the wide appeal of Francis himself.-° The same qualities that made and make him universally loved, make also the spiritual way that derives from him appealing to a vast army of Christians.~ By imitating his delightfully reasonable and joyfully direct methods of reaching God, countless millions through these seven centuries have grown in spiritual" understanding and advanced in mys, tical union. Cbristocentricisrn of Franciscan Spirituality The basic and most far-reaching quality of Franciscan .spiritual-ity is that it is wholly centered about the Incarnate Son of God.4 The positive and avowed attempt to reproduce ~he life of Christ is the simplest summary of the Franciscan vocation--as.Francis put it, "to obs~erve the holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." Though the imitation of Christ is radically the heart and soul of all Christian 2That there is a rich fruitfulness in Franciscanism is seen'in the large number of saints and blessed who have worn the distinctive three-knotted cord. There are 48 Saints of the First Order, 4 of the Second, and 42 of the Third: there are 112 Blessed of" the First Order, 21 of the Second, and 80 of the Third (of. Acta Ordinis Fratrum Minorum, LXIX, iii, pp. 126~135). Excluding the causes of these beati being promoted for canonization, there are pending before the., Sacred Congregation of Rites or Diocesan Courts the causes of more than 203 members of the First Order, 25 of the Second, and a numberless group of the Third (Ibid., "LXIX, i, pp. 20-34). aThe prihciples of Franciscan spirituality have not ceased to attract enormous num-bers of Christians even in our day. In 1950 the First Order had a combined total of more than 42,000 members; the Second Order approximately 2,000: the Third Order Regular, in its various congregations of priests, Brothers and Sisters, at least 70,000; the Third Order Secular an estimated 2,800,000. ~'For a more extensive treatment of Franciscan spirituality the following studies may be consulted: ValentinSM~ Breton, O.F.M, La Spiritualit~ Franciscaine (Paris, 1948); Vitus a Bussum, OIF.M.Cap., De Spiritualitate Franciscana (Rome, 1949); Pacificus M. Perantoni, O.F.M., "De Spiritualitate Franciscana," in Acta Ordinis Fratrum Minorurn, LXIX, v, pp. 214-243: Agostino Gemelli, O.F:M., "La Spiritualit~ Francescana," in Le Scuole Catrolicfie di Spiritualit~ (Milan, 1949) ; Franciscan Educational Conference, Report of the Eighth Annual Meeting, (Washington, 1926); Philibert Ramstetter, OIF.M., "Introduction to a Francis-can Spirituality," in Franciscan Studies, December, 1942; Valentin-M. Breton, O.F.M., Le Christ de L'Arne Franciscaine (Paris, 1927). Additional ligh~t is to be 'had from the reading of such classics" as Hilarin Felder, O.F.M.Cap. Thd 1deals oF St. Francis of Assisi (New York, 1925)~ Agostino Gemelli, O.F.M., The Franciscan Message to the World (London, 1934), as well as the many standard biographies of St. Francis. 128 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY living, about Franciscan asceticism there is a more distinctive desire and a special effort t6 conform the life of the dedicated one to that of the Incarnate Son of God. In ngthing is the influence of the founder's life and personality more discernible than in this. For Francis, Christ was the center of all things--the focus of all thought, the object of all_ striving, the inspiration of all action. Christ, Francis loved with a consuming passion, as the most tangible proof of God's all-pervading goodness. He could never cease marveling at the divine goodness: it was a theme that both fascinated and transformed him. ]ks he reflected on it, he w~ould~ cry out in the rapture of his contemplation: "Thou, Lord, art the highest Good, the Eternal Good; from Thee cometh all good, and there is no good without Thee." It is primarily and eminently in the Incarnation of th~ Eternal Son that God has shown forth t6 the world that infinite love which is His essential perfection; and this, to Francis, became the most profound and, at the same time, the most penetrable of mysteries. His soul found in it the most, exalted of divine revelations, reaching into the very bosom of the Godhead ~nd manifesting in a singular way God's in.finite life of love. That in God there should be an Eternal Son generated by love, and that the Eternal Father should give this only-begotten Son for the world's redemption, was for Francis the climaxing proof of God's goodness. It opened up to him--as nothing else in all reality could--the depth of charity with which the Creator cherishes every last one of His creatures. For him, it explained all of life and creation ; it served as the foundation for all his spiritual action. "O Lord, we thank Thee," he wrote in the First Rule, "because, just as Thou hast created us through Thy Soft, so also through that true and holy charity with which Thou hast loved us, Thou hast caused Him to be born of the glorious and most blessed Mary,' ever Virgin most holy, and Thou hast Willed that through His cross and blood and death we sinners be redeemed." ./kbove all else, the Incarnation proves God's goodness in that it teaches us how we must live. Jesus is our model, "leaving us an example"; and hence--as Francis saw with an enviable directness-- the ideal of all spiritual striving is that we imitate His steps. This was the desire which burned in Francis' heart for himself and which he held up to his followers. Thomas of Celano says: "His supreme endeavor, his most ardent wish and foremost principle was to observe the holy Gospel in all and above all things, and to follow 129 ALEXANDER WYSE Review for Religious perfectl'y, 'with all zeal, with the fullest ardor of his spirit, with all "the love of his heart, the doctrine of our Lord Jesus Christ, and to imitate His example. In constant meditation he reflected on His Words, and with deep.intentness he pondered on His works.''~ So fruitful was this contemplation, and so completely did Fran-dis succeed in this. holy ambition to imitate Christ, that he is gen-erally admitted to have been a humanly perfect copy of the Master. Renan, the great skeptic, called him the only true Christian after ~Jesus; and (at the other pole of orthodoxy) St. Bonaver~ture cites the imprinting on his body of the stigmata,as heaven's seal on the ~onformity of Francis' life with Christ's. Love--the Well of Action His d~sire to imitate the supernal example of the Incarnate Son of God was nurtured by an ardent love for Him which literally surpasses our capacity. The "Three Companions" tell us of this burning devotion as the source of Francisr spirituality: "From the time,of his conversion to his death, he loved Christ with his whole heart, bearing, the memory of Him constantly in his mind, praising ,Him .with his lips, and glorifying Him in good works.''6 And Celano expatiates the theme: "His tongue spoke out of the fullness of his heart, and the stream of enraptured love which filled his soul overflowed outwardly. Always he was occupied with Jesus. Jesus he carried in his heart, Jesus in his mou~th, Jesus in his ears,. Jesus in his eyes, Jesus in his hands, Jesus in all his members.''v This attachment to his Saviour revealed itself by Francis' con-stant- preoccupation with the details of the sacred life of the Lord. He had a wholly special attachment to the. feast of Christmas, observing it with a transporting joy and a moving piety. For him it was the feast of feasts--and, if it has become that also for after-generati. ons, his part in making it such is not inconsiderable. He found a fathomless proof of God's love in His condescending to become Man. That the Incomprehensible, the Unchangeable, the Infinite One should humble Himself so wonderfully for our sakes," demonstrated the measureless extent of God's love for us. Not con-tent with having the vision for himself, he longed to make the whole world aware of it. Whether or not it can be demonstrated his- 5.Thomas de Celano, Legenda Prima (Rome, 1906), n. 84. STies Socii, Legenda (Foligno, 1898), n. 68. ~Op. cir., n. I15. 130 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY torically that he did give us the first Christmas crib, it is certain that he had a leading role in helping to establish the custom,s Perhaps more than any other of our popular Christmas observances, in making visible to us the tenderness of the Birth of Christ the Crib has served to establish in the hearts of Christians a new under-' standing and appreciation of the love of God for the human race; in spirit, at least, it is the product of Francis' intense love of the Christ- Child. At the other terminus of that divine life, the saint likewise found another strong motive to honor the love of God for man. His rever-ence for the Passion of Christ colored his whole think~ing; moulded his whole devotion. From the day when he heard the mysterious voice from the crucifix at San Damiano bidding him repair the Church which was in ruins, to that climax of seraphic love in the Five Wounds of the Redeemer imprinted on his body, the sufferings of 3esus were ever before his eyes. Early in his religious life he was one day walking along the road, bathed in tears, expressions of the most profound sorrow issuing from the depths of his soul. When someone asked" him what he was lamenting, he answered that he was weeping for the sufferings of hi's Lord. Moved by the unction and the sincerity with which the saint uttered these words, the other, too, began to weep and sigh in com-passion for the suffering Son of God. This" is more than an anecdote from his legend--it is a symbol of the vast influence of St. Francis in riveting the attention, first, of his followers, and then of all Chris-tianity, upon the Passion of Christ. For it is true that Francis by his devotion to the sacred sufferings has conferred upon Franciscan spirituality a truly distinctive mark. At the same time, by reason of this new note of tender and human feeling which Francis intro-duced into~or, at least so effectively propagated within--Catholic devotional life, he served to give a new orientation to the spiritual life of the whole Church.9 By stressing, as his own character demanded, the element of love in his approach to God, and by 8Cf. Stephen M. Donovan, O.F.M., The Catholic Encyclopedia (New .York, 1913), sub verbo "Crib," IV, p. 489. 9Francis, of course, did not completely disrupt the traditional lines of devotion in the Church. nor did he accomplish the new orientation singlehandedly. Following by less than a century the age of St. Bernard, he solidified the notable contribu-tions of the great Abbot of Clairvaux toward establishing a love and affection for the humanity of God's Son. For a brief summary of the inter-relation of Bernard and Francis in this" spiritual revival, cf. Philip Hughes, A History of the Church (New York, 1935), II, pp. 306-307, 403-404. 131 ALEXANDER WYSE Review for looking more fixedly upon those aspects of God's relations with men which show forth the divine benignity and condescension, he rekindled in the hearts of men the flame of divine charity. He taught his followers--and the world--to serve God, in a special way, out of regard for the love which God has first shown us. Christocentric Theology/ Francis made the love of God--as proven by the Incarnation of Christ---the basis for his whole system of living. More philo-sophical minds than his would expand this notion into a whole explanation of reality[ The idea which Francis established by his preaching, his prayers, his very act of living, his more learned fol-lowers took and worked into a theology that begins and ends with Christ, the fruit of divine love. The concept of the glorification of the Ingarn~ate Son of God-- which Francis instinctively felt and lived--becomes in Franciscan theology the explanation of all things, the prime motive for the cre-ation of the world. Christ, God made Man, in this system was the First Thought of the Creator; He was destined, before the fall of our first parents, before even the making of the world, to receive the homage, the love, th~ service of the human race. All creatures what-soever enjoy the gift of being in view of the preordained Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. The supreme mani-festation of God's love and power in the Person of the God-Man was to raise up to the life of the Trinity the'human brothers of Christ. In an excess of divine benignity, God conferred upon the human race the riches of the supernatural life--but with, in, and thrgugh Christ, the Head of all things. It was thus that human creatures, endowed'with intelligence and free will, were predestined to share in the personal life of God. In Christ they were willed and destined and called to glory.~ In view of that .high vocation they were elevated to a supernatural plane by the foreseen graces merited for them by 3esus Christ. That man should have failed to correspond to God's purpose in creating him does not, in Franciscan theology, militate~ against God's primary motive in decreeing the Incarnation of His Son. True, historically, Christ did not come as the King of Glory to receive in His earthly days the adoration and the homage of the world; He came rather as the Man of Sorrows, the suffering Redeemer, the Messias making satisfaction for our sins. Yet this but further illus-trates and enhances God's love. In permitting His Son thus to come, 132 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY to suffer and die on the cross for our redemption, God showed forth His love in a still more striking fashion. Thus in Franciscan theological speculation, as developed by the masters of the school, St. Bonaventure and especially John Duns Scotus, Christ assumes the central position which He already occu-pied in the thought and the life of the unlettered Poverello. All things depend on Him, all things grow through Him, all gifts come from Him to all beings. There is no merit, no promise of eternal life, no blessedness which does not derive from Him. From the part of God, any offering, any virtue, any prayer, has value only insofar as it reflects Jesus Christ. From the part of man, no one arrives at the divine union, no. one knows God, no one serves or pleases the Creator, except through Christ, the Firstborn, the Center and Head of all things. Franciscan theology furthermore eschews the notion of God as the strict Judge demanding vengeance and satisfaction, and sees in Him rather the loving Father who grahts to the Son the privilege of the Incarnation for His human brethren, together with the right to restore them to supernatural life. The Saviour is not so much the victim of divine justice, as He is the friend who, out of love for His Eternal Father and His brothers in the flesh, sacrifices Himself to atone for men's sins. The Passion and the Cross are, in this view, not so much the price demanded for human redemption as they are the yoluntary outpouring of divine love, setting the tone and the pat-tern of the relations between God and man. Povert~l' For all these reasons, as Francis of Assisi insisted, though with-out himself ever formulating his thoughts in such theological termin-ology, there is need of penance and mortification and a voluntary crucifixion on the part of those who know and would repay God's love. If God so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, and if the Son so loved us that He willingly emptied Himself of His glory and became obedient even to the death of the cross," there can be little choice for a creature except to imitate that self-sacrificing love and surpassing abnegation. As a logical cohsequence, therefore, of these considerations the three basic qualities 6f Francis-can ascetiscism are generated: poverty, humility, and mortification. In the sixth chapter of the Second Rule of the Friars Minor, St. Francis' speaks of "the sublimity of the highest poverty which has made you, my dearest brothers, heirs and kings of the kingdom 13~3 ALEXANDER WYSE Reoieto t~or Religious of heaven: poor in goods, but exalted in virtu(." In these few words he succinctly demonstrates the pivotal importance which the Fran-ciscan ideal attaches to the observance of poverty as a means of reaching eternal life. Tl~e voluntary stripping oneself of the things of this earth and all attachment to them predisposes one to the practice of all other virtues which, spelling perfection, infallibly lead to ever-lasting l~appiness. Accepting as the most literal truth the promise of the Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs i~ the king-dom of heaven," the Franciscan world has enthroned Lady Poverty as its queen. She has reigned by the clearest title in the hearts and homes of all those who call Francis "father." St. Clare of Assisi-- that gentle maid who more completely than any other caught Fran- Cis' holy enthusiasm for this Seraphic virtue par excellence--success-fully resisted even the efforts of the Holy See to take away from her what she called "the privilege of poverty." St. Bonaventure refers to poverty as "the sublime prerogative" of the Franciscan Order. A thousand examples might be cited, from the bulging Seraphic chron-icles, of this undying fealty and devotion to poverty, for in a true sense this attachment to Lady Poverty is the history of the order. Her saints have been great, her reformers have been virtuous, .her life has been varied and at time even exuberantly stormy--simply because, in days of fervor as of decadence, the haunting image of "that noble and queenly, that most beautiful of women" whom the Poor Man of Assisi made his bride has never ceased to fascinate the Franciscan soul. If the Order of Friars Minor has been divided into three autonomous groups, this has been because the sons of Francis have never failed to be interested in the question of poverty, and have always wanted to safeguard and the more truly cherish that heritage which is the "'privilegium paupertatis," the "'nostii ordinis praeroga-tioa sublimis." The Franciscan views poverty, as a privilege because it enables him the more perfectly to reproduce ~the life of'the Incarnate Son of God. He was po,or; He deliberately chose the privations of a work-ingman's home for Himself and labored as a carpenter. He had nowhere to lay His head. "Being rich, He became poor" for our sakes. This is the source and the inspiration for the unflinching attachment .to this virtue that Francis conceived: as he is made to say in the hauntingly beautiful Salutation of Poverty, she was with' Christ, God's Son made Man, in all the hours of His life, and when _all other, abandoned Him she mounted the cross with Him, to 134 May, l~51 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY embrace Him as He hung dying.1° Struck with the truth of the sanctifying power of this virtue so closely the companion of Holi-ness Incarnate, St. Bonaventure, expresses the traditional Franciscar~ ideal when he praises poverty as the very source and fountainhead of evangelical perfection, 'and the first ]~oundation of the entire edifice of .spirituality. Humility The abasement of the Incarnation must find its counterphrt in the life of him who would grow up to thd stature of Christ. "Humil-iavit semetipsum," said St. Paul of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity--and the words re-echoed in Francis' heart with a new and challenging meaning. If Christ could deprive Himself of the glory that was His everlasting and inalienable due, Ought nor the creatures "redeemed by His sacrifice at least avoid all vainglory, all frivolous pride, all empty self-seeking? Francis admonishes his friars to .appropriate nothing to themselves; they must even beg for the neces-sities~ o[ life--"noi should they be ashan~ed, because the Lord made Himself poor for us in this world." With a true understanding of human nature, Francis recognized his own sinfulness, his proneness tb evil, and his entire dependence upon God for the grace to save him from eternal damnation. So, likewise, he exhorted his friars to be always mindful of their lowli-ness and nothingness. Especially those constituted in high places-- preachers, superiors, the learned-=-he exhorted to remember that, of themselves, they are nothing, and that any dignity, any influence, any learning they possess is theirs by the donation of God. The superiors of his brotherhood are "ministers and servants of the other friars": the fraternity:itself is the Order of Lesser Brethren. Repeatedly Francis praised and cited poverty ands humility, holding them up as the double cornerstone of the Franciscan life: "Let all the brethren strive to follow the humility and poverty of our Lord 3e~us Christ." Humility is the companion of poverty,, but it is more--it is the perfection of the other virtue in that it reaches into the soul. It strips the mind of all encumbrances of human origin, it cleanses the heart of all man-made ideals and values. It is genuine poverty of the spirit. With a tender tenacity the Francis-can soul holds to this ideal of a humble poverty and a detached 10Though this tender apostrophe to his beloved Lady Poverty" is no longer regarded as a genuine writing of St. Francis, its spirit is certainly authentic. The same thought is expressed by Dante, Dioine Comedy, Paradiso, XI, 64-72. 135 ALEXANDER WYSE Review [or Religious humility. The most learned among the friars have been humble men: St. Anthony in the retirement of the friary at Montepaolo meekly hid' those great resources of theological intuition which lately won for him the title of Doctor of the Universal Church; and St. Bonaventure (at least in the legend which cannot 'have been made up from whole cloth) was discovered washing dishes when the papal envoys came bearing the cardinal's hat. The large number of can-onized Franciscan lay-brothers is assuredly a standing testimonial to the high esteem which the traditions of the order place on humility as a means of perfection: it shows that the life of lowly service of others, so perfect an imitation of Christ's self-emptying, is an inte-gral part of Franciscan spirituality. Mortification The whole idea of Franciscansim being to reproduce the life of the Saviour, positive penance has a palmary place in Franciscan living. The example of the suffering Saviour demands of His fol-lowers mortification and discipline. This universal obligation of Christians is, in Franciscan asceticism, elevated to the status of a positive and primary pursuit, the chief means and the most abiding guarantee of which are '~the poverty and humility of our Lord Jesus Christ." With a holy delight the Seraphic Father embraced this means of becoming more like the Ideal. Frequently he exposed himself to the cold,, simply that he might feel in his members the bitterness of that which nature abhors. In his eating, he refrained from anything over and above what was necessary to sustain life, on at least one occa-sion taking, absolutely nothing for forty days except half a loaf of bread. By the disciplines wherewith he chastised his body he sought to bring into subjection every unruly passion and emotion. If the extreme mortification of the Seraphic Lawgiver ha.s been tempered in the case of his followers (for how many will ever receive the extraordinary inspirations which were his wholly personal gift from the Holy Spirit? or will be called by grace to the degree of poverty and humility and penitential chastisements which have so set him apart?), there is yet incumbent upon all the obligation of a positive mortification in imitation of Christ. His followers have included such paragons of corporal p~nance as St. Peter of Alcantara. who for forty-six years scourged himself twice daily, and St. Felix of Cantalice who took his nightly repose kneeling on the floor after 136 Mag, 1951 FR~kNC[SC~kN SPIRITUALITY his daily rounds of begging in the streets of Rome. Yet, for the most part, a certain mildness (stemming from another no less holy facet of Francis' spirit) pervades the Franciscan concept of discipline. The Saviour Himself bade His disciples not to be sad while the BridegroOm was with them, and Francis instinctively" was one of the most joyous of beings. He arose at midnight to eat with the young friar ,who cried out with pangs of hunger. And he legislated that ordinarily the friars should not be obliged to fast, except on Fridays (a wholly revolutionary concept: for Christian religious), and that .those going through the world might use the Gospel-privilege of eating whatsoever was placed before them. The Noble Function of the Wilt These three qualities of poverty, ,humility, and mortification, constitute what may be termed the negative, the privative (or, in the consecrated terminology, the purgative) steps in Franciscan spiritual-ity. The ascent is completed with the positive and active forces of charity and prayer (which correspond to the unitive and illuminative ways). It is in this phase that Franciscan spirituality attains its perfection and sanctifyihg power. Having learned the boundless extent of divine charity, the Franciscan soul yearns to make a return; in its poverty and humility it has nothing else to give God but a return of love. The next step is the unreserved attachment to God, and limitless devotion to the creatures made by God for Christ. A deep awareness of his adopted sonsbip makes him ready to proclaim wlth,Francis, stripped even of the clothes his earthly father bad given him: "Now I can truly say; 'Our Father Who art in heaven.' " This sense of belonging tb God is fostered and st.rengthened by an ever-deepening devotion to Him in whom and for whom this sonship has been brought about. Thus .Franciscan spirituality, with a new intentnes_s, comes back to Christ, its starting point. Whatever honors, exaltsl and glorifies Christ, that is seen to be a means o~ displaying this charity toward God. Hence the Franciscan emphasis on devotion to the historical Christ-- particularly, as in the piety of Francis himself, to His Incarnation and Passion. Hence also that touching reverence for Christ as He yet lives among us in the Eucharist,11 in the priesthood and tlae- 11Francis' devotion to the Eucharist is one of the most important facets of his spiritual life. Father Felder's treatment of this theme (op. cir., chap. III) is ~specially illuminating. 137 ALEXANDER WYSE Review for Religious Church,12 and in the souls of the redeemed,is The will, the faculty of love, occupies in all Franciscan the- 91ogy, philosophy, and life a unique distinction of I51ace. A l~eritage clearly from Francis himself~with his ardent nature, his impulsive and forthright way of proceeding, his unqiaalified and unlimited dis-play of love for the God-Man--the role of the wilI .is, in the Fran-ciscan tradition, a pivotal one. There is a subtle but profound rela-tion between Franciscan~poverty and the generous use made of the agent of human .choice. Divested of all material things, the Francis-can soul finds itself endowed with "the freedom w.herewith Christ has made us free." No longer tied to the passing things of this earth, neither is it bound to the conventionalities of routine, custom, or society. The Poverello himself was one of the most uninhibited char-acters of history, a man da,ringly original and boldly enterprising. In an ever-expanding resolve to save souls for Christ, his venturesome spirit led him fo distant and dangerous shores, where he fearlessly presented himself to the Sultan before whom all Christendom was quaking. Unashamedly he asked (and obtained!) from the Pope for the little chapel of St: Mary of the Angels that plenary indulgence which had been previously conceded only for a pilgri.mage to the Holy Land. He entered into a holy pact with God Himself, wherein the mortified servant of Christ deserved to feel in his own'~flesh the sufferings of the Crucified. This same quality of directness, of daring, of wilful aiad pur-poseful action is always inherent in genuine Franciscanism, and shows itself no less in Franciscan spirituality. Tamed, modified, kept within reasonable check, it is a characteiistic which eminently befits the ~poor of sp!rit. Stripped of all desire of self-aggrandize-ment, the Franciscan seeks nothing of this world, fears nothing of its powerful ones. He is in a position to use the liberty of the sons of God. In a sort of reeling climax to liberty, he subjects himself to .the most complete obedience to God and God's delegates--for obedience is the ultimate in self-assertion, the wild and r~ckless sac-rificing of the right to self-will. 1-'2Cf. Felder, op. cit., for the testimony of Francis' profound reverence for the Church of Christ (chap. IV). 13Among the outstanding evidences of his zea! for the salvation of souls is the twelfth chapter of the "Regula II." It is one of the chief glories of the Franciscan tradition that Francis was the first founder to propose for his followers the ideal 6f '~going among the Saracens and other infidels." He thus helped to launch the greatest era of missionary activity after the Apostolic Age. 138 May, 1951 FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY As the will attains its realization in action, inevitably the Fran- " ciscan vocation is one that stresses the apostolate~ Francis--.t,hough at times his soul craved the sweet delights of withdrawal from the world--discovered that the truest way of imitating the Master was, like Him, to go about, "doing good." In labors for the salvation of others Francis and his order seek to live the GoslSel of our Lord Jesus Christ. "Non sibi soli vivere, sed aliis proficere vult, Dei zelo ductus," the Church sings of him.14 In novel and revolutionary-~often 'in all but unpredictablem ways, the Franciscan spirit uses this liberty to bring all things into the kingdom ~designed, from before the foundation of the earth, for God's Eternal Son. There is indeed a great and challenging diversity of methods in the Franciscan apostolate, just as ,there is a most startling, originality discoverable in the Seraphic hosts. Men and women of rare indiyiduality, of almost unclassifiable "character, ~have pledged themselves to reproduce Christ--in themselves and in the world---by living the Gospel. Can there be in the legends of any othe'r religious institute a man so singular as Brother Juniper? so simple as Brother Giles? so unspoiled as Brother Masseo? Has any" other founder welcomed so enthusiastically into his foundation rob-bers who had infested the countryside? or been succeeded in his very lifetime by one so completely his opposite as Elias of Cortona? The Franciscan spirit can embrace, and Franciscan spiritualit~ does sanctify, with equal impartiality, a Duns Scotus of Oxford Univer-sity and a Benedict the Moor from the scullery of Palermo's dark monas~tery. The royal Louis of Toulouse professed the same Rule as the unlettered Paschal Baylon. The mystical Joseph of Cuper-tino is brother to the energetic Leonard of Port Maurice. It is indeed true that, as has been said, by the variety of its manifestations Fran-ciscanism takes on a character of universality, like Christianity itself, which in the Gospel is likened to a tree to which all the birds of the air may come to make their nests. Prayer ' While stressing apostolic actik, ity as an unceasing tribute to Christ the King, the Franciscart soul does not forget the value of prayer. After the example of the Master, Francis himself often interrupted his apostolic labors to refresh and restore his soul in a period of contemplation. Such contemplation, nonetheless, is 14Breoiariura Rornano-Seraphicurn, In festo S. P. N. Francisci, ad Laudes, Ant. 1. 139 ALEXANDER WYSE designed (as is the poverty and humility of the Gospel) to subserve the apostolic vocation. In contemplation the Franciscan draws "waters with joy out of the Saviour's fountains"-~but only that in his preaching and ministry he may the more efficaciously slake the thirst of those who,~ like the hart panting after the fountains .of water, are thirsting after the strong Living God. Seraphic prayer finds its perfect symbol in the figure of Francis on Mount Alverno, his arms raised in the form of a cross. It finds its truest expression in the fervent and heartfelt prayer of the Poor Man on that mystical height: "Who art Thou, my God most sweet? What am I, Thy unprofitable servant and vilest of worms?''15 In explaining later to Brother Leo, his beloved com-panion, that these words expressed his grasp of the depths of the infinite goodness and wisdom and power of God, and the 'deplorable depths of his own vileness and misery, Francis left a classic outline of Franciscan prayer and meditation. It would, of course, be impossible here to explain the special characteristics of mental prayer and contemplation, as elaborated by the masters of Franciscan spirituality. It must suffice to point out two of its salient points: first, it manifests the common Franciscan dependence on the faculty of the will, being affective rather than intuitive; and, second, in prayer as in all else Christ remains the -center. The subjects of predilection for Franciscan meditation are the various phases of the life of the Incarnate Word, while the affec-tions of the heart are offered to the Eternal Father t~hrough the mediumship of Him who is the Source of all things. The truly Franciscan soul but borrows the words of the Seraphic Father: "Because we all are miserable sinners and are not worthy to call upon Thee, weo humbly.ask our Lord Jesus Christ, Thy beloved Son in whom Thou wast well pleased, together with the Holy Ghost the Paraclete, to thank Thee." lSThe Little Flowers of St. Francis (Everyman's Library), p. 11 1. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian Subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscriptions. For further details please" see inside back cover. 140 Apostolic Constitution Sponsa Christi [EDITORS' NOTE: We present here the positive legislation contained in ,Sponsa Christi, the Apostolic Constitution of Pope Pius XII, given under date of Novem-ber 21, 1950, and published in the Acta Apostolicae 8edis, official publication of the Holy See, under date of January 10, 1951, pp. 15-21. The general statutes from the papal document given below are preceded by a lengthy historical and ex-hortatory introduction on the origin and development of the contemplative life for women consecrated" to God, pp. 5-15. ] GENERAL STATUTES FOR NUNS Article 1 § 1. The term nuns is used in this Apostolic Constitution as it is in the Code (c. 488, 7°). In addition to religious women with solemn vows, it includes those who have pronounced simple vows, perpetual or temporary, in moqasteries where solemn vows are actually taken or should be taken according to the institute, unless it certainly appears otherwise from the context or from the nature of the case. § 2. The legitimate use of the term nuns (c. 488, 7°) and the application of the laws concerning nuns are not at variance with the following: (1) s.imple profession made in monasteries according to law (§ 1); (2) minor pontilical cloister prescribed or duly granted for mo~iasteries; (3) the pe?formance of apostolic works which are joined with the contemplative life either by reason of a provision approved and confirmed by the Holy See for certain orders or by the " lawful prescription or grant of the Holy See to certain monasteries. § 3. This Apostolic Constitution does not affect the juridical status of: (1) religious congregations (c. 488, 2°) and the Sisters who are members of them (c. 488, 7°), who take only simple vows according to their institute; (2) societies of women living in com-mon after the manner of religious and their members (c. 673). Article 2 § 1. The special form of religious monastic life which nuns are obliged to follow carefully and for which they are destined by the Church .is the canonical contemplative life. § 2. The term, canonical contemplative life, does not denote that internal and theological contemplation to which all persons in religious.institutes as well as those living in the world are invited, 141 POPE PIUS Xll Revieto for Religious and which individuals everywhere can lead by themselves, but it sig-nifies the external profession of religious discipline which, by reason of cloister, or the exercises of piety, prayer, and mortification, or finally by reason of the work which the nuns are obliged to under-take, is directed to interior contemplation in such a way that their whole life and whole activity can easily and should etficaciously be imbued with zeal for it. § 3.If canonical contemplative life cannot be habitually ob-served under a strict, regular discipline, ,the monastic character is neither to be granted nor, if it be had already, is it to be retained. Article 3 § 1. The solemn vows of religion which are pronounced by all the members of a monastery or at least by the members o17 one, class constitute the characteristic note in virtue of which a monastery of women is legally considered among the regular orders and not among the religious congregations (c. 488, 2°). Moreover, all the pro-fessed religious women in, these monasteries come under the term regulars according to'canon 490, and are properly speaking not called Sisters but nuns (c. 488, 7°). § 2. All monasteries in which only simple vows are taken can obtain a restoration of solemn vows. Indeed, unless truly grave rea-sons prevent it, they will be solicitous about taking them again. Article 4 While always keeping for all monasteries those character-istics which are, as it were, natural to it, the stricter cloister of nuns which is called pontifical shall in future be distinguished into two classes: major and minor. § 2. i o Major pontifical cloister, namely, that which is described in the Code (cc. 600-602) ,is clearly confirmed by this Our Apostolic Constitution. By Our Authority, the Sacred Congregatio~i of Reli-gious will declare the causes for which a dispensation fromthe major cloister may be given, so that, while the nature of cloister is kept unimpaired, it may more suitably be adapted to the circumstances of our times. 2° Major pontifical cloister, without prejudice to § 3, 3°, must flourish by reason of law in all monasteries which profess the contemplative life exclusively. § 3. i° Minor pontifical cloister will retain those characteristics of the old cloister of nuns and will be protected with those sanc- 142 May, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI tions which the Instructions of the Holy See expressly define as neces-sary for the preservation and safeguardifig of its natural purpose. 2° Subject to this minor pontifical cloister are the monas-teries of nuns with solemn vows which, by their institute or by legitimate gran~, undertake work with externs in such a way that quite a number of religious and a notable part of the house are habitually devoted to these occupations. 3° Similarly, each and every monastery in which only simple vows are taken, even though devoted exclusively to contem-plation, must be subject at least to the prescriptions of this cloister. § 4. 1° Pontifical major or minor cloister must be considered a ¯ necessa)y condition not only that solemn vows may be taken (§ 2) but also that those monasteries in which simple vows are taken (§ 3) may in the future l~e considered as true monasteries of nuns according .to canon 488, 7°. 2° If even the rules for the minor pontifical cloister cannot be generally observed, the solemn vows which may have been had are to be taken away. § 5. 1° The minor pontifical cloister is to be observed in places where the nuns do not take solemn vows, especially in those points in,which it is distinguished from the cloister of congregations or that of orders of men. 2° Howeve'r, if it is clearly evident that even the minor cloister cannot be observed in an individual monastery, that monas-tery must be changed into a house of a congregatibn or of a society. Article 5 § 1. Among women consecra[ed to God the Church deputes only nuns to offer public prayer to God in her name, in choir (c. 610, § 1) or privately (c.'610, § 3) ; and she places upon them a grave obligation by law to carry out this public prayer daily at'the canon-ical hours according to the norm of their constitutions. § 2. All monasteries of nuns as well as individual nuns, whether professed of simple or solemn vows, are everywhere obliged to recite the Divine Office in .choir according to c. 610, § 1 and the norms of their constiti~tions, § 3. According to c. 610, § 3, nuns who have not taken solemn vows are not strictly obligated to the private recitation of the canon-ical hours when they have been absent from choir unless their con-stitutions expressly provide otherwise (c. 578, 2°). Nevertheless, 143 POPE PlUS XII Reuiew for Religious as was stated above (Art, 4), it is the mind of the Church not only that solemn vows should be restored everywhere but also that, if they cannot be restored for the present, nuns who have simple perpetual vows in place of solemn vows should faithfully fulfill the work of the Divine Office. § 4. In all monasteries the conventual Mass corresponding to the Office of the day according to the rubrics is to be celebrated in so far as this is possible (c. 610, § 2). Article 6 § 1. 1° Unlike other religious houses of women, monasteries 9f nuns are autonomous (sui iurfs) by reason of the Code and according to its norms (c. 488, 8°). 2° The superiors (antistitae) of individual monasteries of nuns are major superiors by law and are endowed with all th~ pow- ,ers which are due to major superiors (c.48'8, 8°), except some that from the context or from the nature of the power would concern men only (c. 490). § 2. 1° The extent of the condition of independence or autonomy (sui iuris), as it is called, of monasteries of nuns is defined by both common and particular law. 2° The juridical guardianship which the law grants tO the local ordinary or to the superiors regular over individual mon-asteries is in no way derogated from by this Constitution or by federations of monasteries allowed by the Constitution (Art. 7) and ,established by its authority. 3° The juridical relations of individual monasteries with the local ordinaries or with the superiors regular continue to be regu-lated by ~he common law as well as by particular law. § 3. This Constitution does not determine whether individual monasteries are subject to the authority of the local ordinary or, within the 'limits of the law, are exempt from it and. are subject to the superior regular. Article 7 § I. Monasteries of nuns are not only autonomous (c. 488, 8°) but also juridically ~ distinct and independent of each other and only united and joined together by spiritual and moral bonds even though by law they be subject to the same first order or religious institute. § 2. 1° The formation of federations is in no way opposed to May, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI the common liberty of monasteries,'which is accepted as a m.atter of fact rather ,than imposed by law; nor should, these federations be considered as forbidden by law or in any way less in accordance with ¯ the nature and purposes of the religious life 6f the nuns. 2° Though not prescribed by any general law, federations of monasteries are, nevertheless, strongly recommended by the Holy See not only to prevent the evils and disadvantages which can arise from complete separation bug also to promote regular observance and the contemplative life. § 3~. The formation'of every kind of federation of monasteries of nuns or of a union of federation~ is reserved to the Holy See. § 4. Every federation or union must necessarily be ruled and governed by its own laws approved by the Holy See. § 5. 1° Without prejudice to Article 6;§§ 2 and 3. and to the special type of autonomy defined above (§ 1), there is no objection, in the formation of federations of monasterieS, ',to the introduction of equitable conditions and mitigations of autonomy, which may seem to-be necessary or more useful, after the example of certain monastic congregations and orders, whether of canons or of monks. 2° Nevertheless, any types of federation which seem con-trary to the aforesaid autonomy (§ 1) and which tend towards centralization of government are reserved to the Holy See in a special manner and may not be introduced without Its express permission. § 6. Federations of monasteries are of pontifical right according to the norms of canon law both because of their source of origin and - of the authority upon which they directly depend and by which they are governed. § 7. The'Holy See may exercise immediate supervision and authority, as the case may require, over a federation through a reli-gious assistant, whose duty it will be not only to represent the Holy See but alsb to foster the genuine spirit proper to the order and to give superiors assistanc~ and advice in the right and prudent govern-ment of the federation. §8. 1° The statutes of a federation should conform to the pre-scribed norms to be prepared by the Sacred Congregation of Religious by Our Authority and to the nature, laws, spirit, and traditions, whether ascetical or disciplinary or juridicgl and apostolic, of the reli-gious order concerned. 2° The principal purpose of federations of monasteries is 145 POPE PIUS XII Review for Religious to f~rnish mutual fraternal a~sistance not only by fostering the reli-gious spirit and regular monastic discipline, but also by promoting ¯ the economic welfare. 3° Should the case arise, special norms are to be proVided in order to approve statutes through which the permission and moral obligation of transferring nuns from one monastery to another should be regulated when these measures are considered necessary for the government of the monasteries, the training of the novices {n~ a common novitiate established for all or for many of the monasteries, and for other moral or mate}ial needs of the monasteries or of the nuns. Article 8 " § 1. The monastic work, which even the nuns who lead a con-templative life are obliged to perform, should as far as possible be suited to the rule, constitutions, and traditions of the individuaI .orders. ~. § 2. ,This work should be regulated in such a way that, along 'with other sources of income approved by the Church (cc. 547-551, 582) and with the abundant assistance of Divine Providence, it will provide secure and fitting support for the nuns. § 3. 1° Local ordinaries, superiors regular, and superiors, of monasteries and of federations are obliged to use all diligence that the nuns may never be wanting in necessary, adequate, and profitable work. 2° On ~heir part, nuns are bound in conscience not only to earn their doily bread by the honest sweat of their brow, as the Apostle teaches (II Them. 3:10), but they should also make them-selves more skillful day by day in the different kinds of work required by present times. Article 9 In order to be found faithful to their divine, apostolic vocation, all nuns must not only use the general means o~ the monastic aposto-late, but they shall also attend to the following:- . § 1. Nuns who have definite works of a particular apostolate prescribdd in their constitutions or in approved rules are obliged to devote themselves entirely and constantly to these works according to the norms of their constitfitions, statutes, or rules. § 2. Nuns who lead an exclusively contemplative life should observe .the .following: 146 May, 1951 MEDITATION FOR A MOTHER SUPERIOR 1° If, according to their particular traditions, they now have or bare had a special kind of external apostolate, let them faith-fully retain it after having adapted it, without harm to their life of contemplation, to modern needs; if they have lost it, let them dili-gently take means to restore it. If there is any doubt about adapta-tion, let them consult the Holy See. 2° On the other hand, if the purely contemplative life, according to the approved constitutions of the order or its traditions, has never, been joined to the external apostolate' in a permanent and enduring manner up to.the present time, then, only in cases of neces-sity and for a limited time, the nuns may, and at lea~t out of charity should, occupy themselves with those forms of the apostolate, "espe-cially such as are unique or personal, which may seem to be com-patible with the contemplative life as observed in their order according to the norms to .be fixed by the Holy See. h edi!:a!:ion t:or a Nkot:her Superior Mother Mary Elizabeth, D.C. Love knoweth no measure Feareth no labor Maketh sweet all that is bitter Findeth rest in God alone LOVE knoweth no measure, no measure of forgiveness. A group of persons living in such. close proximity as religious must, are keenly aware of the weakness of human nature. They begin to understand why Our Lord on the cross prayed: "Forgive them, for they know not what they do." And if this understanding comes to those who have no special rseponsibility for other souls, how ~rnuch more dearly to those whom God invests with His authority? So the Sister Superior must learn to love without measure, in the sa'me manner as Christ has lo~ved her. It is well to recall that the rulers of the Jews said that Christ was guided by Beelzebub . Superiors follow (or should follow) more closely in the footsteps of Christ, and they musthave His spirit. He dictated a very beautiful com-mand one evening: '"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." 147 Ma~!, 1951 MEDITATION FOR A MOTHER SUPERIOR Feareth no labor: The superior must never call a moment her own." Her time belongs to the Sisters; consequently there should be no so-called "inter,ruptions" in her life. In. giving herself to the community, either directly to the individual members or indirectly. by her care of the house, she is but doing her duty. She should be the last to think of rest, of ease from work, of consolations. "It is for thee to be the support of tl~y brethren." To be the support, the strength, of the weak, the despondent, the discouraged religious. The superior has to deal with each soul in these categories asa mother does with a sick (or peevish) child. She makes sweet the wood of the cross so that her daughters may carry it willingly, carry it joyfu~ly, and, at the end, triumphantly, to the portal of Heaven. Maketh sweet all that is bitter: To give one's will into the hands of another, a symbol of slavery, is the hardest sacrifice God asks of man. To make light the burden of obedience and to sweeten the bitterness found in community life is the task of the superior of the house. In doing this she will be called upon to. forget herself :i thousand times. In each community the superior should image the Rule. In her the religious should find the peace, the joy of laboring for Christ, and the rest tfiat comes to a contented heart doing all for God. Findeth rest in God alone: Truly this is the only consolation worthy of the name. It is reserved, not to superiors, but to the superior after God's own heart. In distractions often, in cares with-out number, in burdens multiplied, the superior should seek rest only in the Heart of Christ. When the power that comes from God alone was conferred upon her, she was set apart. Not that she was made better than others, not that by the very fact of authority she was made perfect, but only because God delegated to her the power that is His by righ,.t. "'Going-up-into the mountain He called unto Him whom He would . " Not because of the spiritual worth of the individual but only because God wills it is a man or a woman set apart to lead and govern other souls. If Christ called all to come to Him that they might be refreshed, how much more those who are burdened with a greater share of the Cross of the Lord? OUR CONTRIBUTORS ALEXANDER WYSE is the director of the Academy of American Franciscan History, Washington, D.C. MOTHER MARY ELIZABETH is prioress of the Carmel of St. Joseph, Long Beach, California. C. A. HERBST and AUGUSTINE KLAAS are members of the faculty at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 148 Current: Spiri!:ual Writ:ing Augustine Klaas~ S.3. From La Vie Spirituelle IN.THE MARCH .1950 number of La Vie Spirituelle there is an intriguing little symposium on the subject: "It is difficult to grow old." The matter is of current, practical interest for religious, who too must learn the not-so-easy art of growing old gracefully. Doctor H. Muller pres.ents an introductory survey, noting the marked increase in the number of old people, owing to the reduction of infant mortality, the increasingly successful fight against disease, and. other factors, all of which are adding years to the life-span of society's various classes, including religious. (In the U. S. A. since 1900, a period in which the population has doubled, the.number of persons over sixty-five years old has quadrupled, from three to twelve million in the fifty-year period.) Unfortunately, along with an increase in numbers, has Come a noticeable change of status. When the old were comparatively few, they were honored and respected, and their advice was dutifully sought, but the situation has now greatly altered, presenting nev~ problems of adjustment both psychological and social. Also; the old today are too often "bad patients," discouraging attention and affection, precisely because many have not learned how to grow old in a calm, mature .way. When the life-span was barely thirty years, the saying used to be: "Brother, you are going to have to die." Today it is rather: "Brother, you are going to have to get old." You will be old, perhaps ten, twenty, and even thirty years. The prob-lem must be courageously met and solved on the material and~ above all, on the spiritual plane. H. Duesberg draws a charming portrait of the aged as found in the Old Testament, comparing it not unfavorably with the one sketched in the ancient classical writers and those of the Middle and Far East. After an upright, useful life, the aged man is represented as living out his long years with dignity, while at the same time going down steadily and inexorably to the tomb. Old age may be burdensome and subject to various untoward vicissitudes: never-theless, it is always preferable to death, for as Ecclesiastes (9:4) says 149 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reuieu~ [or Religious somewhat quaintly: "A living dog is better than a dead lion." Old age merits respect and reverence: "Rise up before the hoary head, and honor the person of the aged man" (Leviticus 19:32). Old age is itself the reward for honoring the old, especially one's parents: "Honor thy father and mother . that thou mayest live a long time" (Deuteronom~ 5:16). What splendid examples of old age there are in the Old Testament: Tobias, Sara~ Abraham, Isaac, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, David. Of course, as we might expect, there were also some unworthy old persons, such as the two accusers of Susanna. The old are the living embodiment of the 15ast, particu-larly of the previous generation. Even after they have died they continue to live on in their children and in the memory they leave behind them of their wisdom and experience. Duesberg concludes: "The serenity of the aged ih the. Old Testament is remarkable, for they drew a maximum of confidence and resignation from what they themselves had learned and from what God had taught them." The increasing number of the old presents also an economic problem, a problem of material assistance, which the symposium does not cover. However, Armand Marquisat tells of an interesting association of men, formed in Paris to help solve the social probl,em of the aged. The men call themselves the Little Brothers of the Poor. The group was started by three gentlemen in Paris at Easter 1946: it now numbers over thirty. These laymen, propose to help the old in ev~ry possible way in the places where they live, fre- "quently alone and in need. Some of the Brothers are part-time, others full-time workers, who visit these aged people several times a week, to look after their food, lodging, clothing, medical, and spir-itual care. Professional men and workers of all types are members, and all have placed themselves under the patronage of St. Francis of Assisi. It is a lay institute that vows to serve the aged in this ,very practical, effective, ChriStian way. The symposium, concerned mainly with the spiritual side of the problem, contains a good article by Father Ji Perinelle, O.P., a reli-gious of advanced age and wide experience. He notes that people grow old unevenly. Some keep their mental and bodily faculties intact almost till the very _end; others deteriorate more rapidly and are subject to disease: All experience a certain loss of liberty, a growing dependence on others, and a gradual isolation that does not: lighten their.physical or moral iils. Countering'the~e, there is a tendency among the old themselves to excess in one direction or May, 1951 (]URR~NT WRITING another, and very frequently a pronounced egotism, showing itself in constant speaking onl~ of self and one'Sqlls, or complaining, or demanding that every whim be satisfied, or a lack of gratitude for favors done. Certainly these are not the .proper attitudes that age should bring along with it.' ¯ Old age is'a sthge of life willed by God and like the other stages should contribute to the advancement of one's spiritual good. God governs old age by His Providence; He is all--powerful, all-wise, and all-loving (Rorn. 8:28). The old have the grace at hand to meet the trials of this period of life (II. Corr. 4:16).~ Perhaps St. Paul is the great example of a man growing old in the right way; he did not falter towards the end, but finished victoriously the combat and the race (II. Tim. 4:6-8). Father Perinelle gives some wise counsels for the aging. The first group pertain to the exterior, the second to the interior life. a) Health: Don't become obsessed with care for your health, always an.xiously looking at the thermometer, taking the pulse count, noticing the draughts, etc. Restrict gradually your external activity; live a well~ordered life; keep up a certain minimum of physical exer-cise; attend, faithfully to personal hygiene; watch eating habits; meet weakness~ illness, and finally death itself with resignation and cheer-fulness, as preludes to the call of the Master. b) Work: Keep on doing some real work, physical or mental, at a fixed time every day, no matter how little it may be. But do not persist in doing'work, for which you are no longer fitted. You are not a good judge in this matter; hence listen to the advice of others. Hand over your principal tasks to younger hands, even though this is not an easy thing to do. And don't imp0se.your advice on others, either. Accept the fact that your counsel, when asked, often will not be followed and finally will no longer even be asked for. c) Relations with others: Try to keep in touch with your life-long friends, but do not be locked-up l in the past. Giveyourself generously to the rising generation. Y~u are the bridge between the old and the new. Times change and certainly some real progress is. being made in the wo~ld. Your e.xperience can .contribute to it, if you are not intr.ansigent in clinging to the past. Be like the Catholic Church in this matter, sanely adapting herself to modern conditions. And keep up with the times, if you ~an, but above all keep an open, mind. Read something daily in a slow, reflecting way~ Maintain a 151 AUGUSTINE KLRAS Reoieto for Religious kindly sense of humor in your dealings 'with others. There are two dangerous .attitudes regarding the new members of your religious order or congregation: the first is to have little con-fidence in their capacity and hence to lower the standards of religious life in their favor. This must not be done, but rather a total giving of s~lf must be demanded of young religious. The second wrong attitude is to wish to impose rigidly on the newcomers what you yourself went through. No, prudent adaptation is what is wanted here. Let them prefer reading St. Paul tb reading Rodriguez! And do not attempt to impose inflexibly on the younger generation o.f religious your methods of teaching and apostolate. Guide them, surely, but leave them some initiative of their own. Finally, do not try to appear younger than you really are and thus make yourself ridiculous. Act your age. As for the interior life, remember that God loves the old in a special way because they .are weak and feeble, just as ,for the same reason He has a particular love for children. If you are faithful and prayerful, God will keep you company to your Emmaus when "it is towards evening and the day is now far spent." Two things are to be noted spiritually: you must acquire a spirit of detachment and an understanding or feeling for eternity. All things are passing: the old are very much aware of this. It should make them reflect and pass a true judgment on the fleeting things of time. Past sins must be acknowledged. There must be contrition and penance, but also an immense trust and confidence in God. The o!d feel their poverty-- empty hands after such a long life; God must be their riches now. The old feel their weakness; let God be their strength. They feel powerless to do good; God is now their all. , A sense of eternity must be gradually acquired by the old, for the beatific vision and all that it implies is drawing near. Live in the hope of it; await it longingly. Be humble, be kind, be tolerant of others, pray much, offer up the remaining days of suffering and your Ideath, pray continually throughout the day for y6urself, for your dear ones, for the world, for the Church. See to it that extreme unction and the last rites be administered to you betimes.' Death is the gate,way to eternity: be at peace, cheerful, joyful, expectant. Father A. Masson, ordained recently at the age of seventy-four, likens old age to the season of Advent. It is a time of hope,, ending in a birth. All the Advent liturgy and the prophecies of the Old 152 Mug, 1951 Q~URRENT WRITING Testament can be al3plied luminously to old age. There are three births: the physical one to natural life; the spiritual one of baptism to supernatural life; and the last one to the life of the beatific vision. Are not the death-days of the saints and martyrs called their bi~th-days? Let me close this subject with this little paragraph by Father Sertillanges, O.P., who at the age of eighty-five wrote as beautifully as ever: "For the Christian, old age is not a final farewell to what-ever appeals and desperately clings to our lust for life. Quite the contrary, it is the full growth and final flowering of hope. It is the threshold of what had merely been suggested by t.he springtime of life. It is the first sight of land after an apparently interminable voyage. It is the veil which has been torn from an illusion and exposes to view the supreme realities. Old age is the approach to God. Descent into the grave, since i~ represents, but a partial truth, is an illusion. Rather do we ascend." From Reoue d'Asc~tique et de Mgstique In the January-March 1950 number of Revue d'Asc~tique et de M~tstique there is a seven-article symposium on the general subject: Spiritual Problems of Our Times and Ignatian Spiritualitg. I should like to summarize the article by Father Louis Verny, S.J., on a vital point of Ignatian spirituality, namely, Ignatian prayer, a subject about which there is sometimes misunderstanding and error. The title is "in actione contemplatious," which may be translated approxi-mately: "in action contemplative," or "contemplative in the midst of action," or "contemplative while active." This type of prayer, along with others, is mentioned in a letter of Father Jerome Nadal, S.J., who wasin close contact ~ith Saint Ignatius Loyola for many years. I quote the passage of Nadal's letter from the French of Father Verny: "That prayer is a capital item of prime necessity in a religious institute is most evident. I am speaking of the prayer referred, to in this text of St. Paul: "I will pray with the spirit, but I will'pray with the understanding also" (I Cot. 14:15). It is the prayer which contains, all the phases of spiritual development: the purga-tive, illuminative, and unitive. Wherefore actively, and even avidly, does the Society give herself to it in full measure in Christ Jesus, For there is no one of her members that she does not at first start off .with meditations suited to first conversion and to the putting off of the 153 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reoieto for Religious old man. Then, by means of contemplations on all the mysteries of Christ ~we seek.to develop ever more in ourselves the realized knowl-edge of Him who is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Finally, we find repose in love. What is the necessary beginning of. prayer we find again at its term: charity, the highest and sublimest of the virtues. So that, filled with a very ardent zeal drawn from prayer, we set out for our ministries full of joy in Christ 3esus, with humil-ity of heart, satisfaction, and courage. This is what we draw from the~ book of Exercises. "Although this is no't the time to treat of prayer, there is a fact which I do not wish to omit. Father Ignatius had received from God the .special grace to rise without effort 'to the contemplation of the Most Holy Trinity and to repose in it a lon~ time~ Sometimes he was led by grace to contemplate the whole Trinity; he was 'trans-ported' into it and united himself to it with his whole heart, with ¯ intense sentiments o~ devotion, and a deep spiritual relish. Some-times he contemplated the Father alone, sometimes' the Son, some-times the Holy Spirit. This contemplation of the Most Holy Trinity was accorded him often at other periods of his life, but he received it principally, and almost exclusively even, during the last years of his earthly pilgrimage. "If such prayer was granted to Saint Ignatius, it was a great privilege and of an entirely different order. But "he likewise had another privilege which made him see God present in all things and in every action, with a lively sense of spiritual realities; contem-plative in the midst of action, according to his ordinary expression: finding God in all things. Now, this grace which illumined his soul 'was revealed to us as much by a kind of brightness which emanated from his countenance as by the enlightened sureness with which he acted in Christ. We were filled with admiration for it, our hearts were much consoled by it, and we felt as though the overflow of these graces was descending on ourselves. Furthermore we believe that this privilege which we noted in Saint Ignatius is likewise granted to the whole Society; we are confident that the gift of this prayer and contemplation awaits us all in the Society, and we strongly assert that it is a part of our vocation." Three tfiings are brought out in the text of Father Nadal's rev.ealing letter: 1) ordinary prayer~ and ordinary contemplation, .that is, contemplation in the sense in which it is used in the Spiritual Exercises; 2) infused contemplation, or mystical prayer, with which 154 May, 1951 CURRENT WRITING Saint Ignatius was greatly favored; 3) a state of soul described by the phrase "in action contemplative" or "contemplative in the midst of action," which Saint Ignatius cultivated himself and recommended most highly for his sons, and Father Nadal considered an integral part of a Jesuit's vocation. We are interested here in this last type of prayer, to which Father Verny devotes most of his article. Although it does characterize Jesuit spirituality, it is not for Jesuits only, but can be utilized, at least to some extent, by all.orders and congregations engaged in the active apostolat.e. At the outset Father Verny compares the Jesuit formula "in actione contemplatious . in action contemplativeS' with the forrrfula -of.St. Thomas Aquinas, which can be expressed somewhat like this: "'contemplari et contemplata aliis tradere'" ("to contemplate and to communicate to others .what one has contemplated"). There is some dispute as to whether St. Thomas's formula ref~s to what is technically called the "mixed life," the life of the active apostolate, because it seems rather to accentuate the contemplative element. If it does, it differs from :the Ignatian formula, since the latter certainly puts the stress on the active apostolate. Also, the Thomistic formula seems to refer to alternate activities, namely, to contemplate and then to impart the fruit of one's contemplation, .whereas the Ignatian formula indicates something simultaneous, apostolic action perme-ated with contemplation. Father Verny then takes up the Jesuit formula and has no diffi-culty proving from the Spiritual Exercises and the Formula of the Institute that apostolic action is the vocation of the Jesuit. The Society of Jesus is an essentially active order, a mobile force ready to give apostolic service of almost any and every kind. What is the contemplative element that must permeate its active apostolate? Father Verny says that it can be expressed in two ways, each one implying the other. The contemplative element in the active apostolate is the state of soul resulting from the complete, unconditional, definitive self-surrender to Jesus Christ and total enlistment in H~s cause, spoken of in The Spiritual Exercises. It is begun in the Kingdom meditation, enhanced by the Two Standards, perfected by the Three Degrees of Humility, completed and actuated day after day by the intimacy with Our Lord that is derived from the daily contemplation of Him in the Gospels. This close intimacy with Christ is the fruit of the Second Week, perfected and made more 155 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Ret@to ~or Religious precise in the rest "of the Exercises, and extended throughout life, since the contemplation of the Gospels is a life-long task. It" is renewed every day at Holy Mass and Holy Communion, and in visits to the Blessed Sacrament. It expresses itself in frequent thought of' Christ, confidences, exchange of gifts, and the acquire-ment of a common mind with Christ. It is the asslmilation and "putting on of Christ," who is "the Way, the Truth, and the Life." Father Leonce de Grandmaison calls it "virtual prayer"--a recalling of the presence of God and an actuation more or less'explicit of "that transcendental love which we owe to God Our Lord." He points out some of' its qualities: "apostolic interests placed above selfish interests; divine views over human views; the spirit of Christ pre-ferred to the spirit of the world." This thinking with Christ, this participation in His interior dis-positions, this ever more perfect assimilation and putting on of Christ, can be expressed in a second way, namely, by using the language of the Institute. I cite some of the more important pas-sages. For instance, he who enters the Society of 3esus must take care "always to have before his eyes first God, th~n the spirit of the Insti-tute, which is a way of ascending to Him." Again, the seventeenth of .the Rules of the Surnrnar~ : "Let all endeavor to have a right intention, not only in their state of life, but in all particulars, seeking in them always sin.cerely to serve and please the divine Goodness for itself . And in all things let them seek God, casting off as much as possible all love of creatures, that they may place their whole affection on the Creator of them, loving Him in all creatures and them all in Him, according to His most holy and divine Will." The significant phrases "for the greater glory, of God," "for the greater service of God" constantly recur in the Spiritual Exercises and in the Constitutions. Here is what we read in the preamble to the Election: "In every good Election, as far as regards ourselves, the eye of the intention ought to be single, looking only to the end for which I was ~reated, which is, for the praise of God our Lord . . ." Besides a right intention, a spirit of faith must be had, especially" with regard to obedience. A few selections at random from the Constitutions: "acknowledging the Superior, whoever he be, as holding the place of Christ our Lord." With regard to illness: "using pious and edifying words, showing that he accepts l~is sick-ness as a gift of our Creator. and Lord." These ideas are especially clear in the seventh part of the Constitutions, where there is question 156 Ma~t, 1951 CURRENT WRITING of apostolic ministries in the strict sense, but they also form an under-current in all the parts and also in the General Examen. The twenty-ninth rule, on external comportment, ends: "and hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devo-tion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." Thus we see sufficiently that to be "contemplative in the midst of action" involves essentially a kno~ving, a loving, and a putting on of Christ ever more and more, and various ways of seeking and finding God in all things, persons, and events, especially by a right intention and the spirit of faith. Father Verny points out three saints in whom we can easily recognize this excellent state of soul, because they were eminently "contemplative in the midst of action." The first is St. Ignatius himself, whom Father Nadal describes in the last part of the letter cited above. The second is blessed Peter Faber. After noting his manifold works for the Church, the fifth lesson of his Office con-tinues: "And while unceasingly he was doing such great deeds for the glory of God, he was with heart and mind so united to God that he seemed to be occupied With nothing but heavenly things." May we not apply to him the words of Holy ~Scripture: oculi mei semper ad Dominum . my eyes are always on the Lord"? The third example is $t. Vincent de Paul, as can also be readily seen from his Office. No doubt we could add many more: Francis. Xavier, Peter Canisius, Francis Regis, Isaac Jogues, Peter Claver, but also Charles Borromeo, Francis de Sales, Alphonsus Liguori, the holy Cur~ of Ars, Francesca Cabrini, and many others, both men and women. For them God has become an atmosphere, and all their activity takes place in this atmosphere. The activity may be very intense, overwhelming and extremely distracting, still it leaves intact unity and liberty of soul. Amid all the bustle and confusion, interiorly there is real silence and recollection. Send Saint Francis Xavier or Blessed Peter Faber on as many missions as you will, you will not change the spiritual atmosphere in which they move. ~ Multiply the" letters of St. Ignatius or the human miseries which St. Vincent de Paul tried to alleviate, deep down within, their tranquility of soul remains, their "conversation is in heaven." They are "contemplative in the mids~ of action." Their "eyes are always on the Lord." Of course, all this is an ideal, and a very high one. To reach it the~e are two stage~. The first emphasizes~the ascetical element. It 157 AUGUSTINE KLAAS Reviev., for Religious consists in the systematic and persevering practice of various spiritual ~exercises: prayer, intimacy with Christ, right intention, purity of heart, spirit of faith, presence of God, mortification of the external senses and the internal powers of the soul, faithfulness to grace and the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, the examen of conscience playing a major role. The second phase has no fixed rules or chartered course. It makes use of Father de Caussade's "sacrament of the present ;noment." It employs more frequently Father de Maumigny's "interior retreats." It consists essentially in a steady increase of faith, hope, and love of God and fellow-men, together with a growing docility to the Holy Spirit and use of His gifts. Perhaps the second stage can' be summdd up by Father Louis Lallemant in his Fourth Principle (chapter 2, article 1) : "The goal for which we should aim, after having for long time exercised ourselves in purity of heart, is to be so possessed and ruled by the Holy Spirit, that it is He alone who directs our p0wers,and our senses, and go.verns all our movements both interior and exterior, and that we abandon ourselves entirely by a spiritual renouncement of all our desires and personal gratifications. Thus we shall live no more in ourselves, but in 2esus Christ, by faithful cooperation with His divine Spirit, and by perfect subjection of all 'our rebelliousness to the power of His grace." The more this takes place, the closer we are coming to holiness and also to the mystical state, though the latter seems to be only for the very few. At this advanced level there is scarcely any difference between action and prayer, so much is action impregnated and permeated with prayer. The striving for this type of prayer amidst action is what St. Ignatius wanted in his followers. It is about this that Father Polanco wrote in behalf of Ignatius to Father Urban Fernandez, Rector of Coimbra, on June 1, 1551 : "As for prayer and meditation, except in a case of special necessity . our Father prefers that we t~y to find God in all things rather than devote much consecutive time to that exercise. He desires to see all the members of the Society animated with such a spirit that they do not find less devotion in works of charity and obedience than in prayer and meditation, since they ought to do nothing except for the love and service of Our Lord." This is the grand objective for which not only Jesuits But all religious and diocesan priests engaged in the active apostolate may and should strive~ and with God's grace ultimately achieve. 158 B ook/ eviews Four works by H. Pinard de la Boullaye, S.J.-- SAINT IGNACE DE LOYOLA, DIRECTEUR D'AMES. Pp. Ixxlx ,--1- 362. Aubier, I-=dltions Montaigne. LA SPIRITUALIT¢ IGNATIENNE: Textes. Choisls et pr&sent6s. Pp. I "-t- 4S7. Libralrle Plon, Paris. EXERCISES SPIRITUELS Selon la M6thode .de Saint Icjnace. Tome Pre-mier, Les Exercises, 7 ~:dltlon, revue et augment~e. Pp. xxvill ~ 314. Beauchesne ef Ses Fils, Paris, 1950. LES I~TAPES DE RI~DACTION DES EXERCISES DE S. IGNACE. 7 l'=-dltion, revue et corrig~e. Pp. viii -I- 76. Beauchesne et Ses Fils, Paris, 1950. After acquiring eminent distinction in such fields as comparative religion and religious experience and in giving the Lenten conferences at Notre-Dame, Paris, Fr. Pinard de la Boullaye has in recent years been devoting his great talents to writing on Ignatian spirituality. Among several volume~ on that general theme there are four to which we would call attention. Saint lgnace de Lo.qola, Directeur d'Ames opens with a long preface ~vhich presents the sources of Ignatian spirituality, its leading ideas, its general characteristics, and its value, and then an account of the writings of St. Ignatius and their character. The main body of the work consists of 314 pages of extracts, with notes and explana.- tions, from the original Sources. These excerpts are arranged according to different topics; for example, "the apostle of order and the greater glory of God," ". of self-control," ". of zeal," and so on. Thus in a moment one'could easily find in their authentic form St. Ig-natius's thoughts on many important points in the interior life. La Spiritualitd lqnatienne is similar in structure; and in content it is complementary. First a fairly lengthy preface gives a general description of Ignatian spiritual doctrine. Then in a systematic way the whole of the spiritual life, ascetical and mystical, is presented in selections, not so much this time from St. Ignatius himself, as from his 3esuit sons. This book therefore is an anthology, topically ar-ranged, of 3esuit spirituality. After a brief indication of a basic idea from the saint; various developments of it from 3esuit spiritual lit-erature are presented. Numerous notes and references could intro-duce one to further study of the same subject. A't the end of the book there is a very useful collection of brief biographical and biblio- 159 BOOK REVIEWS graphical notices of the Society's spiritual authors. Exercises Spiri(uels is the first of a four-volume set on St. Ig-natius's Exercises. It may be said that it is designed to explain them, whereas those that follow deoelop them in the form of retreats. However, it is not simply a commentary. It is proposed as "notes," and rather deals with what seem td be the essential ideas of St. Ig-natius, and the principal reasons why he chose such considerations and arranged them as he did. Thus, it is hoped, the right under-standing of the text will be facilitated. This book will no doubt 0 take a foremost place among writings on the Exercises.One special merit of it is a certain wholesome originality. ~ Les t~tapes de Rddaction is a small, but very interesting work on the evolution of the Exercises themselves. The process went on from 1521 to 1548, and in it six different stages or phases are distinguished and studied, If the author:s conclusions be correct, some old ad-mirers of the Exercises will be surprised to learn the dates at which certain of the more characteristic pieces appeared. --(3. AUG. F-LLARD, S.J. JEANNE JUGAN. By Mgr. Francis Trochu. Translated by Hugh Mont-gomery. Pp. xil -I- 288. Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1950. $3.75. If there is one phenomenon in modern Catholic life from which no one can withhold the tribute of spontaneous admiration, it is the work of the Little Sisters of the Poor. It must have been a wonder-ful personality, one feels, that, under God, brought that body into being. Here is the story of that personality, so wonderful that even in the order she inspired and first "established--owing to the fact that it was "kidnapped" by a priest-director and: held captive incredibly long--she was not known by most of her fellow-religious as their founder. "Jeanne Jugan will be canonized some day, but there will be many.difficulties in the way, for we have no dstails about her life," said a priest of Jeanne, when all the.facts were still being cov-ered under conspiratorial silence. Truth can hide in strange places. In this instance it was the records of the French Academy (which had conferred the Montyon Prize on Jeanne before the "kidnapping"), and it was through that source that it came home to the Little Sisters, and the world, what a wonderful woman had called their work into existence. God is wonderful in Jeanne Jugan.--CIERALD ELLARD, S.J. 160 May, 1951 BOOK NOTICES THE TRUE STORY OF SAINT BERNADETTE. By Henri petitotl O.P. Translated by a Benedictine of Stanbrook Abbey. Pp. viii -I- 19S. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. $2.50. This book is not intended to be a complete biography of St. Ber-nadette. It is more in the line of an appreciation. It supposes that the reader already has a fair knowledge of the facts of Bernadette's life. What the autho~ tries to do is reproduce the spirit behind the facts of her life. The common reaction to a book with a~title like "the true story" of something or other is the suspicion that the author is setting about to correct some popular notions about his subject. Whether the popular concept of Bernadette contains some false notions, the author does not explicitly say. But he wants to be sure that the reader has two things straight by the time he finishes, the book. First of all, Bernadette was not an unintelligent girl. Her intelligence was above average, although her education was neglected until she entered the ,religious life. Secondly, she was not just an ordinary good religious (as her mother superior claimed). It is true that Bernadette was favored with special graces before her entrance into the religious life, But this is not the reason she is a saint. She developed the practice of heroic virtue in tile religious life, especially by the way she accepted suffering and humiliation. The author stresses the heroism that Bernadette manifested in a particular kind of suffering that was harder to bear than physical pain. Two of her superiors took on themselves the job of seeing that Bernadette stayed humble. Some of the other Sisters, taking their cue .from the superiors, took up the crusade to keep Bernadette humble. The uncharitableness that can be cloaked underneath such a crusading attitude is obvious. A fault into which the author seems to fall occasionally is to squeeze heroicity out of insignificant incidents. He has plenty of arguments for her heroism without exaggerating the significance of minor incidents.--JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. BOOK NOTICES On June seventeenth will be beatified the saintly MotherCouderc, Foundress of the Cenacle Sisters, who died in her eightieth year in 1885. If you wish to see why God so obviously blesses the Society "161 BOOK NOTICES ' Reuietu for Religious of the Retreat of Our Lady in the Cenacle in its very rapid diffusion in the United States and elsewhere, you will find in this biography, SURRENDER TO THE SPIRIT, that supernatural self-surrender to the Holy Ghost, who in the Cenacle came upon the infant C~aurch in Pentecostal tongues of fire. Mother Surles of the Boston Cenacle presents her heroic subject in an inspiring, but slightly "novelized" biography, in casting much of it in conversational form. Blessed ThOr}se Couderc should henceforth bare many friends among girls and women of all walks of life. (New York: Kenedy, 1951. Pp. xxi -b 243. $3.00.) OUR HAPPY LOT, written by Aurelio Espinosa Polit, S.J., and translated by William J. Young, S.J., is directed to all religious and priests. 'It presents various considerations intended to inculcate fer-vor and consolation in those consecrated to God. The unique gi.ft of vocation, its assurance ofsalvation, its call to intimacy with Christ, its sufferings and temptations, the'zeal which it postulates, the means of grace which it affords--all these topics are treated in a spirit of piety and elucidated ,by citations and explanations of Holy Scripture. The last fifty pages (pp. 195-245) are a summary, or recapitulation of the book. The various subjects are condensed into brief medi-tations. (St. Louis: B. Herder Co., 1951. Pp. xi + 245. $3.50.) CAN CHRIST HELP ME?, by C. C. Martindale, S.J., is addressed to the World at large and aims at bringing all 'men to. the knowledge and love of Christ. Nevertheless, the last three parts (pp'. 81-205), comprisifig almost two-thirds of the volume, furnish stimulating spiritual reading for religious and priests. This section develops the Ignatian retreat meditation called the Kingdom of Christ and from it the reader becomes enthusiastic not only for Christ's doctrine'or His past achievements, but e~pecially for the Person who can help me right now "as one living person helps another." This zest and love for Christ are developed by explaining the miracles, the parables, the sermons, the attitudes, the anecdotes: and the ordinary actions of Christ as these are portray.ed in the Gospels. Upon all of these Father Martindale throws new light and be does so in that simple, graphic style which belongs to a master of English prose. (West-minster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. 205. $2.25.) 162 Ma~l, 1951 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part. these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] AMI PRESS, Washington, New Jersey. Matins in a Leafy~ Wood. The Story of Mother M. Germaine. By Sister Mary Charitas, I.H.M. Pp. 124. $2.50. An inspiring life of an educator dedicated to the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

T PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. AMOS ECKERT Latest Styles in HATS, SHOES AND GENT'S FURNISHING .Our specialty. WALK-OVER SHOE AMOS ECKERT Prices always right The Lutheran puhligfjing {louge. No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to' yourself. Address H. S. BONER, Supt., HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. TIE BOLTON Market Square, HARRISBURG, PA. Rates $2.00 per day and up. Special Bates for Commercial Men. Large and convenient Sample Rooms. Passenger and Baggage Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Light and Steam Heat. Rooms En-suite or Single with Bath. /. H. & M. S. BUTTERWORTH, Props. SPALDING'S TRADEMARK on Athletic Goods is the guarantee of quality. Don't be deceived by "just as good" that some dealers offer you. Spalding's supplies are made better and last longer—and the price cheaper, when you consider the wear and tear they will stand Spalding's goods are made to last with the toughest kind of use. A. G. SPALDING & BROS. INCORPORATED NEW YORK CHICAGO DENVER J. I. MUMPER. 41 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. The improvements to our Studio have proven a perfect success and we are now better prepared than ever to give you satisfactory work. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Harvard University. Lawrence Scientific School. The Lawrence Scientific School, which is under the same Faculty as Harvard College and the Graduate School, offers professional courses leading to the degree of S. B. in Civil, Mechanical and Electrical Engineering ; Mining and Metal-lurgy ; Architecture ; Landscape Architecture; Chemistry; Geology; Biology ; Anatomy; Physiology and Hygiene (as preparation for medical schools); Science for Teachers ; and a course in General Science. Graduates of colleges may be admitted to advanced standing without examination. For infor-mation concerning courses of study, expenses and plans of admissian, address J. L. LOVE, Secretary, 16 University Hall, Cambridge, Mass. N. S. SHALER. Dean, R. A. WONDERS Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, etc. Scott's Corner, opp. Eagle Hotel, GETTYSBURG, PA. Pool Parlors in Connection. CENTRAL HOTEL. R. R. LONG, Prop. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. Steam Heat, Electric Light and Call Bells all through the House. Closets and Bath Rooms on every floor. Sefton & Flemming's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges moderate. Satisfaction guaranteed. KATES, $1.50 PER. DAY. £ Printing and Binding 4* THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing and Binding, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or any-thing pertaining to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same else-where. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co., Mt. Holly Springs, Pa. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTIZERS. T - T , _. Manufacturers of high grade yy PI| [|J Fraternity Emblems 1J ' Fraternity Jewelry l/wyl y ft- Fraternity Novelties X\dl| Ut UUi Fraternity Stationery Y M \_ Fraternity Invitations 140-144 Woodward Avenue, Fraternity Announcements DETROIT, MICH. Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. CAPITOL CITY CAFE, Corner Fourth and Market Streets, HARRISBURG, PA. First-class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Night. European Plan. Lunch of all Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINGER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES. Partridge's Athletic Goods. For Base Ball, Basket Ball, Tennis, Hockey, Track and Gymnasium use. Managers should write at once for Catalogues and confidential quo-tations We manufacture Sweaters, Jerseys, Tights, Caps, Pennants, etc. Illustrated Catalogues Free. ROBERT LENKER, Agent, Gettysburg College. Horace Partridge & Co., 84 FRANKLIN ST., - BOSTON, MASS. EMIL ZOTHE COLLEGE EMBLEMS Engraver, Designer and Manufacturing Jeweler, 19 S. NINTH ST., - PHILADELPHIA. SPECIALTIES : Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All goods ordered through A. N. BEAN. . THE GETTYSBURG JIERGURY The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College VOL. XI. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1902 No. 1 CONTENTS MARCH {Poem), , . 2 THE IDEALISTIC 3 J. F. NEWMAN, '02. WINNING HIS LAURELS {Story) 7 FRANK S. FITS, '02. THE ACTIVE AND PASSIVE OF LIFE, . . . . n IN MEMORIAM—DR. BAUM 14 ARE OUR DREAMS OF ANY VALUE? 15 ABDBI, R. WENTZ, '04. THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ATTIC DRAMA, 17 EDWARD B. HAY, '03. A LIE {Story), 21 THE COLLEGE CLOCK {Poem), 29 JAMES LANDIS, '05. EDITORIALS, 31 The New Staff—Inter-Collegiate Oratorical—Contributions. EXCHANGES, 33 BOOK REVIEW .'. 35 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. MARCH. "»»7'AGE, stormy March, your wonted strife, ^ " Dark though your clouds may be, Soon, soon shall end your troubled life, Peace, of the spring-tide follows thee. Blow, winds of March, one lingering blast, End Nature's childrens' war, For gentle spring-time cometh fast, Then will your rage be o'er. Change from your chill and blustry gales, To brighter skies and balmier breeze. Wake songs of birds from hill and dale, And from the leafy trees. Waft thoughts of waking life anew, Call dormant powers to use again. Teach us to love the good, the true, Bring clearer thoughts to men. Bring us a spring of lovely bloom, Bring flowers of incense rare. Flee from our hearts the winter's gloom, Reign gentle spring-tide there. •03. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 3 THE IDEALISTIC. J. F. NBWMAN, '02. *T^HE individual just awakening to the immensity of the ^ problem of existence is stupefied by its mysteries. As he becomes acquainted with the world of realities, by which he is surrounded, his insignificance impresses him with overwhelm-ing force. The propositions, "what is man," "what is the soul of man," and "what is the destiny of each," baffle all his efforts at solution, while the activities and harshness of nature as everywhere exhibited almost drive him to distraction. Her only message appears to be, None but the fittest may survive here. He sees his plans fail and his friends taken away by death, and all the material world impresses him as harsh and un-fathomable. In discouragement he would prefer to end the conflict at once were it not for the exhilarating joy furnished by the activities of his mind. He discovers that, though death has removed his dearest friends and robbed him of his preserver, the recollection of their happy relation has a calming and satisfying influence. When he visits scenes of happy recollection, pleasant pictures rise in fancy and he almost relives the bygone happy hours ; and started in its train imagination reconstructs the old life, touching with delicate finger the unsatisfactory portions and hiding them ; recoloring the happy moments and making them shine brighter. This experience discloses a new world where everything is mellowed and beautified; where new hopes rise to take the place of those destroyed. The idealistic tends to soften and modify the realistic. The imagination or idealizing faculty be-comes, therefore, the source -of his pleasure while contending, with varying success, against the hardships of life. This is a general description of the experience of every per-son. Last summer many of us visited the Buffalo Exposition. Each individual could only feel himself an atom in the crowds assembled, and as he elbowed his way among the people, fre- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. quently with physical discomfort, did he receive real, true pleas-ure from viewing the magnificent buildings and collections of art, or did the genuine pleasure arise when the parts were re-viewed and constructed into a new whole in the mind? In brief, is it what we see and hear, or what we retain and revivify that administers to our pleasure ? To one person Beethoven's Symphonies are sublime and continue to ring in the ear long after the vibrating sound of energy has ceased; to another they are "music," and are forgotten immediately. The difference is that the first has power to imagine sound; the mind of the second does not have this power, and music means little to him. What we have been trying to describe is nicely explained by Mr. Ladd as follows: "Imagination is a development of im-age- making, considered as, to some extent, set free from recog-nized dependence upon previous experience with the actual be-havior of self or of things." The idealistic is the developed product. The imagination in the idealization processes must be consid-ered as both reproductive and creative. As reproductive it may produce anew the mental images derived from previous per-ceptive experience, although it may change their time and space relations and may throw them into new forms of suc-cession or of combination, thus producing the Sphinx. As creative the imagination is limited for its material to the mental images which had their origin in actual experience. The achievements of the creative or productive imagination range all the way from the child's efforts to build houses of its blocks to the effort of the astronomer to determine the orbit of Neptune. The imagination not only renders life pleasant, but also con-tributes to the success of every profession. Schopenhauer says: "The man without imagination stands, to him of the gifted and cultivated mind, as the mussel fastened to the rock, that must wait for what chance may bring it; is related to the animal that moves freely or even has wings." The work or artists, poets and architects is mainly of an ideal nature. The artist's creation is the idealized image of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 5 some landscape or event. In its operation the imagination obliterates the imperfection of nature ; consequently the pro-duct is always of a higher type than its original. The Corin-thian column is the idealized trunk of the palm tree. It may be argued that it is the skilled hand which draws the delicate lines of the painting and shapes the column with perfection; but the hand is only the arc-lamp which reveals the beautiful glow of the force generated by the mental dynamo. The success of the architect and landscape-gardener depends on the ability of each, not to plan a house or arrange a park according to correct mathematical formula, but io form a clear picture of the proposed construction, as it will appear when completed. To guarantee harmony and symmetry, both park and building must undergo critical mental examination before exposure in material form. In the scientific world, the philosopher who conceives of laws most clearly, and pictures their results most forcibly, is the person to whose works we refer as authority. Newton, knowing that all bodies of the solar system receive light and heat from the sun, thought that in other respects there may be similarity between the bodies; and in demonstrating the exist-ence of the force of gravitation he proved that the entire uni-verse is held in equipoise by the law which controls the move-ments of our planatory groups. Sir Archibald Geikie, delving amidst the rock of a locality, at the depth of thousands of feet, discovers the petrified ver-tebra of an animal, and from that one bone, with the aid of a friend versed in biology, not only tells us the shape, size and habits of that animal, but the condition of the earth in that distant day, and describes some of the vegetation. Th usfancy suggests ; reason and experience demonstrate. What a part the imagination plays in religion! The heavenly city with streets of gold, gates of jasper and rivers of crystal, as conceived by the comparatively ignorant to the complex conception of Milton, are all fancy pictures. In striving after purity we measure ourselves by the standard of perfection as exemplified in Jesus Christ. 6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. It is an incontestable fact that those lives in which a vigor-ous imagination has tended to create elevating, lofty ideals have been most successful. Mr. Moody, with a clear vision of the beauty of a pure life, labors earnestly for the uplifting of man-kind. Wendell Phillips, horrified at the suffering of the slaves, contributes his noble talent to the destruction of their thrall-dom. Frequently the instruction given by the mother and the hab-its formed in the home of childhood bear mighty influence in our life ideals. The simple faith and contentment shown in "The Angelu»" commemorate the home and mother under whose influence Millet was reared. While lofty ideals are ennobling, ideals of lesser type are de-grading. The wrapper of the cigarette case has started many a boy toward destruction. The anarchistic ideal of a nation with no governmental head resulted in the assassination of the honored and revered McKinley. With reference to the cultivation of this important faculty we quote from Mr. Ladd: "The constructive picture-making faculty of mind cannot be directly trained. Its training must, on the contrary, be chiefly indirect. The analytic observation of nature and human life, the reflective study of the creations of the world's most ma-terial imaginations and the subsequent self-discipline which comes from facing one's own work in a critical and; thoughtful way—these are the most fruitful exercises for the development of the creative picture-making faculty." "LET laurels, drenched in pure Parnassian dews Reward his memory dear to every muse, Who, with a courage of unshaken root, In honor's field advancing his firm foot, Plants it upon the line that justice draws And will prevail or perish in her cause." —COWPER. "HE only is advancing in life, whose heart is getting softer, whose blood warmer, whose brain quicker, whose spirit is en-tering into living peace."—RUSKIN. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. J WINNING HIS LAURELS. FRANK S. FITS, '02. TN a far distant Mexican city, a wealthy American widow ■^ and her daughter were sojourning for the winter. All about them was Mexican splendor and beauty, and at their command was everything that wealth could procure; but our young, spirited American heiress wore a dissatisfied countenance, and all because the wild scene of a bull-fight had been denied her. This was the first time the ever-indulgent mother had re-fused her daughter, and so it made it the harder for her to bear. But, gifted with all the American spirit and coquetry, she de-termined that in spite of all she would yet see the much-talked-of match. It was to be no common, every-day show, for three of the most ferocious bulls of the season were entered, one of which had sent two brave toreadors to their last resting-place, and several others to the wall, where fatigued and acknowledging their defeat, amid the hissing of the vast throng, they gave up the fight. Seven toreadors were already on the list to try their hands, as a large prize was offered to the one successfully killing the king of the herd, besides the praise and applause of half of Mexico, for which the toreador willingly risks his life—to-day he is feted, toasted and praised; he is a hero, but let him fall before an angry bull to-morrow, a fatal slip, and all is over; even if he lives, he has no friends, he is one of many now. Three weeks before the appointed day arrives, the Governor held a large reception and here were Mildred and her mother; here, too, were all the aristocracy of Mexico, among them Senor Carlos, who, mistaking Southern hospitality for love, had been pressing his suit, fervently, and as only a Mexican can, for months. On this particular evening they were seated in a shady arbor, overlooking the sea, where the merry voices and strains of music from the dance hall came floating to them through 8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the trees—and so they sat, silently watching the snowy sails drifting—drifting away as peaceful as their own peaceful life— and yet beyond were cruel, surging billows and clouds of mid-night darkness, which, behind an impenetrable veil, guarded the mysteries of life and death. Presently the man was seized with a passion that knew no bounds, and seizing her hand in both of his, trembling, though in a strong clasp, he cried almost aloud: "I love you," then cooling somewhat, he said softly, with a wondrous smile which brightened his handsome face: "Fairest of women, I love you as no man ever loved before; willingly would I give up my life, my all, if I might serve you, oh, take me—take me to you. Is it only to be scorned and turned aside that I find at last my heart's ideal?" And then—he kissed her. That kiss! It was a magical caress, raising his soul from its slumbers to the full flush and glory of awakened love. After some little talk she confided to him her desire to see the king bull slain. Would he prove his love for her by enter-ing the arena and confronting this notorious beast? Thus it happened that Senor Carlos' name appeared among the list, and that the Governor had the Americans in his private box on the long-looked-for day. As the band played a Mexican march,. the gayly attired, sight-seeing throng poured in, until a mass such as had never been seen in any Mexican city before had gathered. As is the rule in all Mexican bull fights, the numbers of less interest were run off first, holding the main attraction until last. Nothing of interest outside of the ordinary occurred in these fights. Three bulls were sent out and successfully dis-patched by the agile toreadors, and they in turn won the usual applause and cries of the vast assemblage. The band played a lively air, and the arena was filled by a deafening roar as the applause of the spectators grew in vol-umes and all knew that the time for the king bull had arrived. Glancing at the Governor's box, we see a tall, beautiful brunette, clutching wildly at some crimson ribbon—the color of her choice—pale as death itself and with wild, dilated eyes, she THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 9 tries to cry out, but her voice fails—too late, she realizes to what a dangerous mission and test Senor Carlos has been sent, for into the arena a huge, ferocious bull has rushed and is snorting and tearing the ground in all directions. The blood on the arena' from those that have gone before, has set him wild, all can see that the matadore has a very dan-gerous and difficult task before him. Senor Carlos being new, and, as the management thought, incapable, also on account of his wealth and position, had little trouble in getting permission for the first trial—all gave him "good bye" and wished him success; but I venture to say not one expected his return. Seizing his red cloak and sword, he sprang lightly through the gate and was shut in the arena with this mad animal. To win the laurels, the applause, the favor of the crowd, the bull must be teased; if necessary to get him roused, and at the risk of his own life, he must give the bull a fairly good chance of escape. A misstep, a slip, the least mistake means, in almost every case, death or a good tossing, but Senor Carlos, with so much at risk, was undaunted. Running lightly and gracefully, amid the cries of the crowd, directly up to the bull, sweeps his red cloak in front of his eyes and quickly springs aside, as the an-gry monster sweeps upon it and tears the ground round about. Almost immediately Senor Carlos is in front again with his red cloak, and, with a wild snort, the roaring bull is down on him —he barely escapes, loses his cloak and amidst the loud ap-plause of the spectators he rises from the arena. It is now time for the barbed darts, and here is shown the agility and bravery of the toreador, for after getting the at-tention of the angered animal, while he rushes past, he attempts to stick the two prongs in the back of the animal just above the front legs. Senor Carlos advanced with a dart in each hand, three times the bull rushed and each time forced the man to flee. Then, with the cries of "bravo! bravo!" ringing in his ears, he succeeded at last. The infuriated animal now did not wait for his antagonist, but rushed him time after time. The Senor on one knee now awaited his coming. On, on, he comes, IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. snorting and plunging. The man raises his arm, now leans for-ward, and in an instant has driven the steel, only to be broken, and is now without any protection save the wall and barriers. The frenzied bull turns upon him again, the vast assemblage rises as if one man, all is still—no shouts now, the excitement holds them all; in a mad rush for the wall it looks as if the man must be overtaken—with each bound the bull draws nearer, when suddenly, just as the bull, with lowered head, is about to toss him, he leaps aside—then running to the gate, another sword is handed him, and again he is facing the ani-mal in the arena while the crowd is wild with enthusiasm. Again he awaits the attacking animal. On, on, comes the monster, swaying just a trifle. The Senor now advances a little, and, as the bull in a mad rush sweeps upon him, he lightly leaps aside; then, as the bull turns to renew the attack, he sends home the steel-—this time with steady and unerring hand—and stands with one foot on the animal's neck, bowing to the crowd wild with enthusiasm, then fell to the ground of the arena. The shouting and crazed spectators are stifled, and, in a second, "He is killed!" is the cry. Attendants rush out and carry him from the ground—a shriek from the Governor's stand, someone falls, then silence again, for a "caller" has ridden in. "Senor Carlos is not dead, he has fainted, but will be well and with you in a short time—the excitement and unusual strain has been too much for him." Again we see the shady arbor, the spacious grounds, the Governor's palace, hear the band and the merry voices, but be-neath the arbor only one is sitting, but she knows it will not be long. Soon o'er the still night air comes floating a rich tenor voice, humming an old Mexican love song, she rises to her feet, with wildly beating heart, and waited—waited. The singer came nearer—nearer, was at the door of the arbor, and then, as the voice stopped, she turned. Here let us leave them, not wishing to tread on sacred ground or happi-ness— happiness supreme. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II THE PASSIVE AND ACTIVE OF LIFE. ^| **HE pen of some mighty writer once gave to the world this **• message: "Talent develops itself in solitude, character in the stream of life." That statement brings before us the sub-ject of the passivity and activity of life. Ours is a twofold na-ture ; the soul reaches on the one hand up towards God and back into itself, and on the other out towards fellow men. The one side is just as important as the other, and each is indispen-sable to the best development of the other. Do you ever go alone by yourself? Do you ever get away from the bustle of the world, and stop, and rest ? Ah ! if we never do this, we are missing a great deal of the sweetness of life; we are not growing as large as we might; we are neglect-ing one of the most potent forces in the building of true man-hood and womanhood. It is best for us to get by ourselves at times. To be alone, with self and God, means future power. Our humanity reaches its highest development only when we permit ourselves to be in a passive or receptive state, as well as in the active one. There are gentle, unseen influences at work in the world, but these can have no effect upon us until we are in a frame of mind suitable for their reception. Nature has a voice which finds sympathetic response in the human soul. Conscience has a potency not to be reckoned. The still, small voice of our Maker is the safest guide of life. / We must let onrselves be moulded and shaped by these many mysterious influences, but our eyes will be blind to their beauty and our ears dull to their whisper, unless we are quiet, still, and alone. Their value may not be recognized at first, but we shall see their great power in the building of character, if we stop for a more careful consideration of a few of them. Solitude is the fertile source of increased faith and of power in prayer. That General Washington was on his knees in the winter woods meant something for the struggling colonies. A never-failing fountain of strength to our Master, during His 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ministry, were His frequent retreats to the mountains to let the joy of communion with His Father fill his heart and life. The quiet hour of meditation—whether at home in the early morning, or out with nature—is another influence for our good. There, when we are undisturbed, some of our best thoughts come to us. In silent meditation, apart from others, men and women have gained ideas and plans whose accomplishment has had a lasting effect for the betterment of mankind. At such times, if ever, we are lifted to those high peaks of vision from which we catch a glimpse of the unseen. These periods of passive solitude are sometimes compul-sory. But their very loneliness may be made an inspiration which transcends their trial. During convalescence from an illness, when the mind is unemployed and the body inactive, a person's plans and course of action in life may be entirely changed. The life-work of a very prominent man of our day was determined when recovering from a severe illness. Yes, there are soft voices speaking to us which it would be well for us to obey, and there are subtle influences shaping our natures to which it would be best for us to yield. For the strength gained in solitude and the power of the passive life are preparation and equipment for the life of activity. We must not be satisfied to stop here. We dare not forget that it is preparation for something else, and that just as neces-sary, for our welfare is the development of active, energetic ser-vice. Character can be attained in no other way than by con-tact with men. Man is a being of friendships, and consequently of activity. It is unnatural for a person to habitually avoid the company and association of others. It is the rubbing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the world that makes strength. How intolerable to us is the idea of the hermit life or that of solitary confinement! He who refuses to mingle or associate with others develops a mean, low nature—a man of dwarfed tastes and narrow views. The isolated man is a pigmy in char-acter. The activity of contact is essential to full manhood. A person who respects only the desires of the passive side of his being may grow to be beautiful, but cannot become THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 strong. Niagara Falls have always been a beauty and wonder of nature. To-day, their mighty power is, beside this, a thing of useful service. By a feat of engineering those falls were harnessed; the rushing water was brought into contact with the large turbine wheels, and around goes the machinery which produces the electricity for thousands. It is only by contact and joint action that we are of use and good to others. Not only this, but the trials and conflicts in life's struggle are the means of training our best qualities and of developing latent ones. Should the muscles of the body be unused and inactive for some time they would become powerless. It is activity which makes us strong; we must fight if we would win. Prof. Henry Drummond says: "Do not grudge the hand that is moulding the still too shapeless image within you. It is growing more beautiful, though you see it not, and every touch of temptation may add to its perfection. Therefore, keep in the midst of life. Do not isolate yourself. Be among men, and among things, and among difficulties and obstacles." We must be active if we would be our best. And yet, the passive life must help with its inspiration; solitude must lend its power. Let us keep this lesson: To seek that strength which is above and within us, and then put it to the noble ser-vice of men. •04. NEITHER years nor books have yet availed to extirpate a prejudice, rooted in me, that a scholar is the favorite of heaven and earth, the excellency of his country, the happiest of men. —EMERSON. WHAT a piece of work is a man ! how noble in reason! how infinite in faculties ! in form and moving, how express and ad-mirable ! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god !—SHAKSPEARE. FOR solitude sometimes is best society, and short retirement urges sweet return.—MILTON. 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. IN MEMORIAM. AST year there appeared in the March number of this * magazine, an account of the introduction of an alumnus into the Pen and Sword Society. In this number it is our sor-rowful duty to write of his death Much has been said about Dr. Baum, but like all great men he was interested in many things, and never came in contact with anything to which he did not impart some of his own power and passion. One thing for which he had great interest was this institution. He was associated with it nearly all his life. He entered as a student of the classical course in 1842. Three years later he gained the Hassler Latin prize and the year following graduated with the class of '46. In 1861 he became a member of the Board of Trustees, which position he held until death released him from the cares of this life. His face was a familiar one at Commencement, and it was only last June that he preached the Baccelaureate Sermon. Little did we think that its sound advice and words of wisdom would be his parting message. And now, that .he is not, the meaning of this message has been intensified and his words "still move, still shake the hearts of men." Much shall we miss the kind face; much more shall those to whom his judg-ment was so invaluable. And though it would be a comfort to them to have him in their midst, yet the memory of such a character must be a great consolation. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 ARE OUR DREAMS OF ANY VALUE? ABDEL R. WENTZ, '04. TT is not our purpose in this paper to consider the physio- "*"■ logical causes or effects of dreams. We do not intend to describe the various mental and bodily conditions which give rise to dreams, nor to examine into their salubrity or insalubrity. It is our intention to contemplate dreams in their spiritual and intellectual aspects and to show that they are not without value. Those dreams which give premonition of danger and pre-science of events we shall not attempt to explain. For either they are unreal, being mere productions of excited imaginations, or else they are only coincidences. This much is certain: not all dreams are predictions; and no one knows which to accept or which to reject. As presages of future events, therefore, dreams are certainly of no value. During our dreams the brain, all unknown to us, is at work. And the very fact that the body is at rest and that the braia is unhindered by any physical movements, gives it much greater freedom in its work than during our conscious moments. To this can be attributed the very astonishing and seemingly miraculous solution of problems which have long puzzled us and which have for months, perhaps, occupied our attention. The brain having become accustomed to think of the problems, sets to work during our deep sleep to solve it, and when we awake or whenever we chance to think of the matter, we find to our great surprise that we have come to a conclusion and have solved the problem. The impressions received during our dreams are sometimes very vivid and serve to impress upon our minds very forcibly some valuable facts. They may show us the folly of evil liv-ing, more plainly than we could otherwise see it; they may show us the evils of intemperance, or they may teach us some other valuable lesson. For example, a certain man once had a dream in which he suffered the loss of a leg through careless-ness in boarding a railroad train. Although he was glad to 16 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. find when he awoke that it was only a dream, nevertheless he has ever since exercised great care while near a train; the im-pression was a vivid and lasting one and it taught the valuable lesson of carefulness. In this same way innumerable other valuable lessons are to be learned through dreams; and the greatest value in these lessons is that they are so vividly im-pressed upon the mind and so very unlikely to be forgotten. Probably the greatest benefit to be derived from the dreams of to-day is the inspiration afforded to the arts. Who does not credit the story of Caedmon, the greatest poet of the Anglo- Saxons—how his first production in poetry, or, rather, his first literary production of any sort, was composed entirely during a dream ? Coleridge is said to have composed his poem "Kubla Khah" in a dream. And so the poets even of our own day are inspired by dreams to compose some of their best productions. And the same thing holds true in the realms of music. Tar-tinia, a distinguished violin player, is said to have composed his "Devil's Sonata" under the inspiration of a dream, in which the devil appeared to him, and invited him to a trial of skill on his own instrument. This invitation he accepted and when he awoke the music of the sonata was so vividly impressed upon his mind that he had no difficulty in committing it to paper. So, also, with the artist. His keen imaginative genius is trained to seek for the beautiful; and what is more natural than for this genius to do its best work while the body is at rest and while the mind is unencumbered by any physical activity ? Thus many artists are inspired by dreams to paint their master-pieces. In the light of the inspiration which they afford, there-fore, it can easily be seen, dreams are of no little value. In view of these facts—the constant working of the brain during sleep, the sudden solution of puzzling problems, the vivid impressions received, the profitable lessons learned, the valuable inspiration afforded to all the arts—in view of these facts we are forced to come to the conclusion that our dreams are of some value. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 17 THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT OF THE ATTIC DRAMA. EDWARD B. HAY, '03. FOR two reasons a study of the rise and development of the Greek drama should prove of the greatest interest and importance ; first, because of its perfection as dramatic lit-erature, and then on account of the close relation which it bears to the modern drama. As dramatic literature, we may safely say that no subsequent plays have come anywhere near attaining the quality of those produced in the golden age of the Greek drama. It is true that as the world grew wiser in material things a broader scope was opened to the dramatist, but this materialistic development could never add to the quality of the drama. Even Shakes-pear, the king of modern dramatists, in all his varied produc-tions, never made any pretense at portraying the vast and al-most inconceivable thoughts which were so much a part of the drama of the Greeks. The most powerful minds among this highly intellectual and richly sensuous people were for a long period devoted to tho production of the drama, so that with the advantage of the wonderful facilities of expression em-braced in their language, the Greeks thus attained a height of perfection in their dramatic literature which has been the won-der and admiration of succeeding ages. The importance of a knowledge of the Greek drama is also enhanced, when we realize that the true literary drama of the whole world is probably derived from and is certainly moulded by the drama of Greece. Some seek to go further back than ancient Hellas for the origin of the drama, but, though it is well known that the Hindus and the Chinese had a national drama from remote antiquity, yet the dramas in these countries before the time of the Greek were so elementary and of so differ-ent a character from the Greek drama even in its inception that they really bear no relation whatever to it. Hence, we must turn our eyes to Greece as the cradle of that great branch of literature known as the drama. 18 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. From its very beginning the Greek drama had an indepen-dent and self-sustained course. It had its origin in the Greek form of worship, and thus sprang immediately from the charac-teristic love of the Greek for imitation. Unable fully to grasp an abstract idea of God, these inhabitants of Hellas strove by means of art to present or represent deity more clearly to their senses. Then, they venerated this image of God, which they themselves had made, by poetry, that irrepressible music of the soul. But, we find the imaginative Greek going still further than this. His gods, the great forces of nature personified, had a capacity for suffering, or for gladness. These sensations of the gods he represented by mimic dances, and it was in these religious orgies that the Greek drama began. One god in particular was worshiped with fervid zeal in these music dances and hence bears a close relation to the beginning and development of the Greek drama. This was Dionysus, who, with his cult, holds such an important relation to the his-tory of the drama that a brief description of them will not be inopportune at this place. Dionysus was a son of Semele, a daughter of Cadmus, king of Thebes. The great Zeus was his father. Before the ma-turity of the child, at the request of his mother, Zeus appeared in all his majesty as the god of lightning. Semele immediately fell a victim to her curiosity, but the infant Dionysus was saved from the fierce lightning by the sudden springing up about him of cool ivy. Zeus then took him and inclosed him within his own thigh till he reached maturity, when by a seeming sec-ond birth he was brought to the light. The worship of Dionysus, originally observed in Thrace, was soon spread throughout Greece, where it absorbed and moulded into one vast legend grouped about Dionysus the worship and veneration formerly paid to various hordes of lesser spirits. Thus we find this god represented with a motley following of rude Satyrs, lascivious Sileni, powerful centaurs and various other allegorical figures. Dionysus was orginally the god of the productive forces of nature. It was he who gently wak-ened the earth each spring after its winter's slumber, clothed it THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 with vegetation and called each blossom into being. However, it was chiefly as the god of the vineyard that he was worshiped by the Greek. As the god of wine he dispelled sorrow, awak-ened joy and tamed the savage spirit of man and beast, so that his car was said to be drawn by panthers and lions, while the natives of the forest followed in his train. The manner in which this god of all vegetable life came to be worshiped so particularly as the god of one kind of vegetation and that the vine, was that his invocation being of a very ecstatic nature was found to be stimulated greatly by wine. Gradually with the use of so much wine in his worship his original attributes were almost forgotten and he came to be worshiped as the god of wine, the god who exalted man over all earthly care and sorrow. Such a god appealed peculiarly to the Greek, so that his worship soon became universal throughout Hellas. For our purpose, however, it will be suffi-cient to trace this worship in Attica, the principal seat of Greek culture. Each year, in Attica, two festivals were held in honor of Dionysus, the one in the spring, when the earth was awakening to new and joyous life under the fostering care of Dionysus, and when the wine of the past year was mellowed for drinking; the other in the winter in celebration of the completed vintage and the ingathered fruits. In the wild dances or processions of these two festivals the Greek drama in its dual division of tragedy and comedy found its source. Tragedy traces its origin to a hymn called the Dithyramb, which was sung by a chorus at these festivals. The singing of this hymn was accompanied by a flute and by dancing around the altar of Dionysus. Here, the double birth, the suf-ferings and various actions of the god, were passionately cele-brated. In the course of time the Dithyramb developed into a distinct kind of Greek lyric poetry. It was at Corinth that it first reached a definite, artistic form. This was brought about by a celebrated Corinthian harp-player by the name of Arion. He set the number of the chorus at fifty, introduced spoken verses into the choral odes, established superior music and 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. brought about order, system and regularity in the Dithyramb. In fact, he so moulded it and gave to it definite shape that he was credited by the ancients with its actual invention. This, however, was not the case, as the Dithyramb had existed in a crude form long before Arion appeared to give it permanence of form and artistic finish. Thespis a century later introduced an innovation by bringing a single actor on the stage for the purpose of giving the chorus a rest. He is also said to have introduced the use of the mask. During the decade immediately following the death of Thespis a number of tragic poets sprang up, concerning three of whom we have some knowledge. Choerilus, the earliest of the trio, is credited with certain improvements in the masks and dresses of the actors. Pratinas, writing a little later, introduced the satyric plays, which immediately became very popular. Phrynichus, the most famous of the group, made a daring in-novation by dramatizing contemporary history. Before him mythology had been the sole object of dramatization. He is also said to have been the first dramatist to employ female masks. His chief merit, however, consisted in the increased dignity and pathos which he rendered to tragedy and in the ex-quisite beauty of his lyrical odes. His influence upon succeed-ing early dramatists was great. Thus far the chorus was the main thing, the single actor a mere substitute for the chorus when it grew tired. The op-posing or contrasting of opposite natures, the interchange of rival passions and ambitions, all that is most important and of the greatest interest of the drama of to-day was as yet unheard of and impossible because a play with more than one actor be-side the chorus was unknown and unthought of. Hence in the hands of the early dramatists the drama had as yet scarcely gone beyond the embryonic stage. ( To be continued.) THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 A LIE. TT was a late evening, cold and blustery. All the clerks had * already gone home and the partners only remained in the office. One of them, the elder, seated at the desk, was care-fully running over the accounts and endeavoring with all haste to close them and go home to his wife and children. The other, reclining dreamingly in his favorite rocker and smok-ing to his heart's content was carefully reading the evening news. "Confound the women," broke the silence with an imprecat-ing tone. "Well, what's wrong with you now ? queried the man at the desk. "Oh, I don't know that there is anything wrong with me," replied Ben, "my pulse is normal, but there is a heap of things wrong with the women of our days. Why you can't pick up a paper that don't have some crime charged against her. Not long ago I read of a mother arraigned before court for maltreating her own children. Last week at least half a dozen good-lookers were hauled in for shoplifting. Day before yesterday that maudlin gathering up town was exposed. And now to-night, I see that Sam Hall's wife ran off with that pouter-pigeoned dandy that's been sporting around here for the last three weeks. Just yesterday I saw Sam and as usual in-quired about himself and family, and got his usual reply, 'get-ting along swimmingly.' Sam is as fine a man as you'll find in any day's march, his children are models and his wife always appeared like the genuine article; never spoke of Sam but in highest respect; and now took a skip with another. You see, Frank, you can't trust one of them'. Old Madam Eve peeps out of every eye under a bonnet. The women are all cut over the same pattern. I told you that often before, and the older I grow the more I believe it." "Look here, Ben," interrupted the man at the desk, before he could advance any further in his senseless harangue, "you might as well bay at the moon as croak to me in that tone. You would accomplish as much. I have told you over and 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. over again that your views are exterior. You see the cathe-dral window from without and imagine that it is nothing but a confused and conglomerated mass of color. You have never opened your bachelor eyes within the hallowed precincts of woman's nature. The dormant fires of your affections have never been kindled at her shrine." "Bah!" replied Ben, with a contemptuous sneer, and dropping his paper, placed his feet on the back of a chair before him. His lazy eyes began to follow the fantastic curls of smoke as they rose in spirals from his lips, his head became enveloped in a filing cloud of fragrance, and he fell into a reverie. "The dormant fires of your affections were never kindled at her shrine!" Such arrows as that had been flung at him before but the proud stoicism with which he concealed the wounds, led his friends to believe him invulnerable. "Dormant fires!" "Never kindled!" Those words, as similar ones aforetime, sealed his lips and carried him in fancy back to a college romance. He recalled his former and his only sweetheart, Beatrice. He saw again the sparkle of her vivacious hazel eyes and the rosy flush of her dimpled cheeks as they appeared on the night of the ban-quet. He recalled the rapture with which he taught her the art of rowing, and the idle pleasure with which he permitted her to row unconsciously into a clump of rushes beneath the weeping willow. He beheld her again as the graceful fingers of her slender hands ran lambently o'er the keys of her piano, he heard again the carolling notes of her voice as she sang to him his favorite songs. He remembered their moonlight walks, their numerous jokes, their vigorous correspondence. "Dormant fires! Never kindled!" Why, the very glance of her eyes was enough to consume a heart of stone. The ashes of his dying censor fell rudely on his bosom and his reverie was at an end. "See here, Frank," he began slowly, "I know you consider me a sort of a second-rate fool on the woman question, but.I am going to tell you something. Perhaps you will change your mind, if marriage has left you the commodity. But re- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 23 member this is strictly inter-nos, and by that I don't mean be-tween you and the old woman either." "Go ahead," said the man at the desk, with a generous smile. "Well, when I was at college," Ben began, as he reached for a match to relight his cigar, "I carried on a correspondence with no less than a dozen interesting young girls of my own age. They were as fine a bevy as you could collect anywhere, even in Kentucky. Two of them lived in Baltimore, Beatrice Wyman and Luella Kreider. With the latter I was passingly acquainted, with the former I was in it up to my ears. I had it bad, Frank, and she had a touch of it, too. It so happened one week that I answered both their letters in one evening. My room was full of bums, and they almost broke their necks trying to make me blunder. I put up a bluff, however, as though I didn't care and went on until I had both written and placed in separate envelopes. I then went over to the book case for several stamps, came back to the table, stamped the envelopes, sealed and addressed them. Advising the fellows in my shack to go out and hunt a little star dust, I extinguished the light and ploughed up toward the office to mail the letters." "Well," he continued, after a good, long pull on his neglected cigar, "nothing unusual happened during the next few days, the sun rose and set as usual, recitation hours came and went as boorishly as ever, beef steak just as tough at the boarding house, and washing just as expensive as any other time. On the third day, however, as punctual as ever, my letter from Beatrice was at hand. I always knew hers the moment I looked into the box. They were some of those blue ones, square-cut and double-breasted, you know. I opened it at once and began to read. It ran something like this: "BALTO., MD. RESPECTED FRIEND : "Yours of the 20th at hand and con-tents duly noted, but am perplexed beyond measure to know what motive you might have in requesting another of my photos, when I mailed you one of my latest with my last letter. 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "The remainder of that letter I have forgotten, but that cold nor-wester comin' down the top of the page hit me hard. I tell you, it went in to my bones. I'll be blamed if I didn't feel like a corn stalk after a hail storm. "Well, in just about half the time it takes to say it, I saw my mistake. The formal letter, with a request for a photo, had gone to Beatrice, and the one with my heart aches had gone to Luella. I tell you, I felt like a dyspeptic goat for a while. One of the fellows in my room, I suppose, changed the posi-tion of the envelopes while I had my back turned, and I ad-dressed Luella's letter to Beatrice, and Beatrice's letter to Luella. "How I was ever to get out of that mess kept me guessing for quite a while. My first impulse was to tell her that the re-quest for a photo was intended as an acknowledgment of the one she had already sent me, and that the mistake was due to the efforts of the boys to get me off. That, I assured myself, would dissolve my first perplexity, but the other statements of the letter, as memory brought them to light, made my teeth chatter. That ruse wouldn't work at all, I soon saw that. "I decided to make a clear breast of the whole matter and tell her in unvarnished English that she had gotten the wrong letter, and that hers had gone to another. One whole week I spent in composing that letter and wasted two tablets in doing it, and it wasn't on account of the style or the gathering of choice quotations, either, that it took me so long. You see, I had always left Beatrice under the impression that she was my only correspondent, with the exception of mother and a few cousins, and in 'fessing up now that she had received the letter of another, it behooved me to be mighty particular about my footing. You see, I had something definite to say and had to say it in a remarkably definite way. It seemed like walking a tight rope on stilts to me. But I did it. Sent off the best piece of literature I ever wrote. And what was the result ? Never received an answer! She never even acknowledged the receipt of my letter! That shows what's in a woman ! "Now talk about your exterior views, and your little shrine. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 2$ I guess you had better stick that cathedral window in your pipe and smoke it. Did you ever waste a tablet on your wife ? Did you, eh ?" "Well, we'll take your word for it," said the man at the desk as he closed his cumbersome ledger and rose to insert it into the safe. "Yes, I guess you will," retorted the irritated bachelor, who had well observed that his auditor was paying more attention to the accounts of the ledger than to his own. "Come on, old boy," rejoined the other, "get on your coat, it's getting late and time for us both to be at home. When you get home to-night, you take a good dose of lethe and per-haps you will feel better in the morning." The senior member of the firm had never enjoyed the advantages of a college education, but invariably enhanced his remarks with a liberal sprinkling of classic allusions to show Ben that there are sev-eral by-paths to the Persian spring, as well as the public highway he had traveled. With several more antiphonal re-torts of a similar sort, the partners walked down the long aisles of mute merchandise, adjusted the alarm, turned off the lights, bolted and locked the doors and disappeared for the night. Ten long monotonous years had passed since those scenes of halcyon youth to which Ben's bachelor eyes had turned a retrospective gaze. Ben, in the meantime, had grown cold and methodical to those about him. Beatrice, yes, Beatrice, where she was, or what she was, or whether she was at all was known to God but not Ben. He had, with the information of his old chum, a neighbor of the Wymans, in Baltimore, traced her as far as England. He knew that she had, on her transatlantic voyage, become acquainted with a dashing young beau of New York. He knew that their friendship was ultramarine, for they spent a month in jaunting the famous isle together. He had learned also to his sorrow that their friendship had ripened into a devotion and that they had organized a party of two for a European tour. But of subsequent events he was ignorant. On the week of their departure from England his informant 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. moved from Baltimore, and with his removal Beatrice was lost to his lingering gaze as a swallow is lost in the distant sky. She had gone; she had flown; three thousand miles of foam-ing sea lay fixed between their alienated lives. Far off though she was, her image was ever on Ben's mental retina, and whether he walked the sands of summer seas or through the busy thoroughfares, he was ever on the alert for the complement of that image, for the idol of his heart. True, he had feigned indignation at her when he opened his heart to his friend at the desk, but the inner sanctuary of his heart was unlocked. Deep down in his soul was a lingering desire to see his Beatrice once again and discover, if possible, whether they were not the dupes of fate, whether there was not a misunderstanding between them for which they were both irresponsible and sad. The Winter died away and Spring, with its humidity, ap-peared once more. Ben began to complain of failing health, and intimating to his friends that a European tour might build him up again, he was not at a loss to find a physician to rec-ommend it to him. The beginning of June was the time designated as the most profitable to an invalid; then the benign exhalations of the sea would be most strengthening, the Alpine hills most charming. His plans began to crystallize, and by the first of June, were so adjusted that a three months'furlough could be taken without disturbing in the least the mechanism of the store. His ship was not booked to leave New York be-fore the fifth of June, but he was ready to go, and so sick of the routine life of the yard-stick and balance, that he deter-mined to leave the town at once. His first stop, he decided, should be in the quiet, historic town of Gettysburg. There he hoped more thoroughly to acquaint himself with the movements of the two opposing armies, the position of their batteries, the topography of their charges, and the tactics of leaders, in order better to determine their relative value when he should stand at Austerlitz and Waterloo. Giving his friends a sanguine good-bye, and promising several THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 of the clerks a memento or two, he set out on his trip with the hope of arriving at his first place by six in the evening. This, however, was rendered impossible, as his train, by rea-son of a freight wreck along the way, did not arrive at the central station in Philadelphia in time to make the connections. The last of the day's trains for Gettysburg had already left when his train reached the place; he was compelled to spend the night in the city, and keen, indeed, was his disappointment, for there were four places he had intended to visit before taking ship, and now, there were but three days left. It was evident that one of the places would have to be cancelled, and he had decided that Gettysburg should be the one. At the other three places he had friends whom he wished to see before going abroad; at Gettysburg there were only places of interest, and faces are always more fascinating than places. Mentioning his misfortune to one of the hotel clerks and asking him for his advice, he was, however, soon convinced that Gettysburg should not be missed. "Don' be amissin' Gettys-burg, boss," said the dusky fellow, with the air of one who speaks with authority, "I'se been a workin' dar fer tin yeahs an' knows de fiel' laik I knows me ole banjo. It'll pay yer, boss, to go a thousand miles to see it, 'deed it will." The next morning Ben boarded the smoker and continued his journey to Gettysburg, arriving there at 2 p. M., dejected and lonely. Finding his way as hastily as possible to the leading hostelry of the place, he sood filled that aching void, and was out on the battlefield. Being a pedestrian of no mean order and in search of health, supposedly, he refused the ubiquitous cabmen and started to study the crisis of the war on foot. He had left word that he would expect a five o'clock supper, so that he might take the six o'clock train for Harrisburg. But a bachelor's word is no more to be relied upon than the arrangement of his collars and ties in his bureau drawers, and Ben proved no ex-ception to the rule. In buying a number of relics, historical and otherwise, mostly otherwise, and going to the points of in-terest, where they were supposed to have been found, he whiled 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. away the afternoon and did not think of wending homeward, until he noticed, to his amazement, that the sun was setting, while the hands of his watch were still registering 4.30 as the time of day. Hastily as he could travel, with the involved directions of the yeomen along the way, he plodded toward the outskirts until the court-house clock struck seven. Another misfortune! Another example of the futility of human designs ! His train had come and gone, and he was left behind again. Not given, however, to cavalling at a broken pitcher, he proceeded with philosophic serenity toward the hotel. At exactly 7.30 he was again at the table; for a full half hour he sat eating and drink-ing, alone. The table cleaned, and his ravenous appetite ap-peased, he retired to his room and lit a cigar. Here, he fell into a reverie. Home faces crowded in upon him, European scenes of his own creation loomed up before him. The ill-for-tunes of his railway connections led him to speculate on his future perigrinations. He was lost in a world of fancy, when suddenly, a wrap at the door brought him back to earth again. ( To be continued.) "TlS a story short and simply told, Almost in a single breath, A dauntless man, with courage bold, Dying an infamous death. He knew not the Master's presence sweet, He knew not his holy face, Nor the tones of his voice with love replete ; In his voice alone was his grace. There was no battle's intricate plan, No nation's loud applause; He only lived and died a man For Christ and for His cause. And yet in truth what a gallant defense ! By witnesses, suborned, belied He met them with matchless eloquence, And for his faith he died. "MARTIN LOENZ."— University of Virginia Magazine. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 THE COLLEGE CLOCK. JAMES DANDIS, '05. ACROSS the paths of the Campus I see, Towering above the highest tree, With its gothic battlements and turrets tall, The massive front of Recitation Hall; With its one lone tower reaching t'wards the sky, Though lofty it be, yet is not so high As the aspirations of the Freshman "small." The high arched portal that very well Receives and strengthens the debaters yell, As warm from the contest he hurries out And vents his joy in the exultant shout. The echoing corridors shut out by doors, Beyond which are given out the stores Of learning, the rich spoils of time, And years of research in the vast mine Of knowledge, where groping as in the night, We sudden ascertain, then bring to light Some hidden truth or unknown sign. But high above these chambers wise, Its form outlined against the sky, Rises the tower in whose lofty dome The old College Clock has its home. I see as the sunlight strikes the tower The hands of the clock indicate the hour. But when 'tis draped in the shadows of night Shows dim uncertain in the pale moonlight. But whether darkness or light on the bronzed dial Darkens or brightens its face, meanwhile, With monotonous tick it keeps its pace With the circling earth as it reels through space How oft in the day its warning note Calls the student who burns with hope, As he dashes down the old Dorm stair And issues out in the open air, Then hastens across beneath that bell In the chambers of learning his task to tell, And make a ten (or otherwise) In the dept. where his ambition lies. 30 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. As at early morn the ne'er failing bell Rouses the sluggard as if to tell To hurry or miss the morning prayer, How often too at dead of night, When float before the student's sight, Scenes of home and the dear ones there, It breaks upon the midnight air In melencholy tone. When winter's winds howl 'round the wall, In sudden gusts its cadence falls, As the sound is borne from its lofty liar, Then dies away on the midnight air Like footsteps through the deserted halls. Long has it rung, long may it ring That each succeeding year may bring New actors on the scene; We pray then may the numbers swell Under thy sway, Oh magic bell, And the influence of our Dem.! THOUGHT is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure. To replace thought with reverie is to confound poison with nourishment.—HUGO. How various his employments whom the world calls idler; and who justly in return esteems that busy world an idler too! —COWPER. KNOWLEDGE is of two kinds. We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information upon it.—JOHNSON. ONE should not write in obedience to mere reasoning, but in obedience to feeling dominating the whole being.—TOLSTOI. THOUGHT is the property of him who can entertain it, and of him who can adequately place it.—EMERSON. THIS is the truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. —TBNNYSON. COMB forth into the light of things ; Let nature be your teacher. —WORDSWORTH. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. XI. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1902 No. 1 Editor-in-chief H. S. IvEWARS, '03 Assistant Editors Exchange Editor Miss MARY WILSON, '04 SAM. P. WEAVER, '04 LYMAN A. GUSS, '04 Business Manager E. CARL MUMFORD, '03 Asst. Business Manager FRED. MASTERS, '04 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, LITT.D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D.D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Busi-ness Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS. The labor of the retiring staff ended with last month's issue. Their work for the year was a literary and financial success. We look at it now with pride, but back of it all is patient, persistent toil. The Editor added several new features to the magazine and strove to maintain its literary standing. The Business Manager received his talents and returned them with usury. Through his untiring efforts the new staff has been able to begin its work upon a solid basis. These men with their assistants deserve the thanks of their fellow students. New men now take the place of these old servants. Though inexperienced in the work, they have excellent examples in 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. their predecessors, and it shall be their aim to uphold the stan-dard fixed by them, that their labors shall not have been in vain. As they were ever busy, ever on the alert, so shall we try to send the winged messenger always on time and well equipped, nor shall Mercury have a chance to unclasp the winged sandals sandals from his feet. INTER-COLLEGIATE ORATORICAL. Certain seasons of the year mark certain college contests. Beginning in the fall, we have foot ball. In the winter comes basket-ball training. And spring finds base-ball in full blast. Be-tween the last two comes another kind of contest—one not of muscle and speed—the oratorical. In other contests there are always plenty of applicants, always two teams and enough of men to select. But not so in the oratorical contest. Comparatively few men ever enter the lists. For some reason students care more for the one kind of ath-letics- than for the other. Yet it should not be so. It seems quite proper that the oratorical should come between the con-tests of winter and spring. It gives the man not gifted with a strong body a chance. Many are not fitted for this work, but they can do as they are wont on the gridiron. Speak a good word for it—give it a cheer, that the contestants may take increased interest, and bring to witness, their own ability and the status of the institu-tion. IT is with no hesitancy that the incoming CONTRIBUTIONS. staff voJces the sentiments of the retiring staff relative to contributions. According to the former editions lack of material seems to be the chief source of em-barrassment confronting the editorial staff. It is a misfortune which ought to be remedied and certainly can be, not by its staff, however, but by their subscribers. Especially do we refer to the student-body, where enough latent power and natural talent exists to supply the wants of the paper many THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 times over. It is the earnest desire of the' present staff to eradicate this existing perplexity and in no way can it be so successfully accomplished as by voluntary assistance on the part of the students. In fact there is no alternative. In finance the journal has an excellent standing and only awaits liberality of contributions to strengthen its literary status. Modesty is too often a restraint to many students along this line of work, but loyalty to our institution and interest in the success of our magazine should overcome this circumstance. Let there be emulation in this department as in others. The success of the literary journal depends upon the interest of the individual. With this first number of the eleventh volume the staff extends a hearty appeal for contributions and hopes for a ready response. EXCHANGES **W^HE exchange editor begins his work under the most *■ promising auspices. He finds himself surrounded by piles of exchanges on every side; some excellent; others hav-ing room for great improvement. It will be his duty to com ment upon the good, and to criticise those'which, in his judg-ment, need criticism. The criticisms, however, will be offered in the most friendly manner, and it is to be hoped that they will be received in the same spirit. No effort will be spared to give the MERCURY the highest possible standard, but we will always gladly welcome the opinions of our fellow-editors, whether in praise or criticism. With this conscience we will proceed with the work. The Lesbian Herald is always a welcome visitor, but the Feb-ruary number being devoted entirely to historic Frederick, was read with more than ordinary interest. The Free Lance comes to our table with several well-written and timely editorials. We agree that there is a great dearth of instructive lectures in the college entertainment course. 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. TWIUGHI THOUGHTS. Hark ! the night falls. Dost thou hear the sighing Of the sunset wind in darkness dying ? Dost thou hear the timid water falling Where shadows on the rocks are lying ? Tell me, dost thou hear it? Tell me, dost thou fear the spectral quiver Of the starlight on the sullen river ? Dost thou fear the dark that broods upon it As the hopeful day were gone forever ? Tell me, dost thou fear it ? Fear not! These are hours when dim discerning Feels the phantom of an old-time yearning, Wandering far amid the dusk and silence— Wandering far, and sometimes nigh returning But returning never. Through the twilight deepening, backward bringing All the passion to remembrance clinging, Old affections fall upon us softly, Like the memory of a far-off singing That is gone forever. —EDWARD BUTI,ER, in The Nassau. A yell proposed for Carnegie's new college: Kilties and knee-caps Bare and braw; Hoot mon ! Hoot mon ! Rah! Rah! Rah I—Ex. The Pottsville Monthly is one of the best high school papers visiting our table. It can, however, be improved by-keeping the advertisements separated from the other material. 'The shades of night are falling fast." The oyster stew is o'er. The midnight gas begins to lower, And rats begin to snore. For while the lessons long are conned, They take a little snooze; And, when we're safe in slumber-land, Go camping in our shoes. —j. L. s., in Buffand Blue. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 35 This tiny sprig of mignonette She plucked, and wore, and cast away. Enough for just one triolet This tiny sprig of mignonette, Faded and crushed and dead—Ah, yet This tiny sprig of mignonette She plucked, and wore, and cast away. —Georgetown College Journal. Space will not permit us to mention all our visitors individ-ually, so we will consider them in toto. The University of Virginia Magazine certainly holds pre-eminence among our ex-changes. The February number of the Georgetown College Journal. The Haverfotdian and College Student also deserve special mention. A PORTRAIT. As I see her I will paint her With her gift of beauty round, As each curve runs onward bending, 'Till in utmost perfect blending Grace is found. As a blue winged swallow dip ^ Reels its wings before one's eyes, Softest blue one moment flashing, Then it soars with power dashing Up to the skies. That's the blue her eyes can dartle With a pure and smiling sight, Half a look of timorous daring, Half a look of sweetness faring On its right. Then her lashes, fringing darkly, As a bough drops o'er a pool, Bending with a softest fading O'er the water it is shading, Clear and cool. And her face with skin that's faintly Colored with a faintest red, While around heaped high and waving Sweet disorder runs a knaving 'Round her head. 36 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. So with nature as my paint box I would paint her graceful height, 'Till the evening softly hushes— Bids me put away my brushes For the night. -Louis WAHNEE, in The Nassau Literary Magazine. The Dickinson Literary Monthly continues to hold its place as one of our most attractive exchanges. "Lost Yet Won," is a very interesting story. The effect of the story "Onaho" is somewhat lessened by the introduction of a character foreign to the legend. THE WINDS ARE ROUGH AND WILD. The winds are rough and wild. The torn clouds hurry by, But over all the new-born moon Looks calmly from the sky. So love, forever new, 'Mid storms that sin doth bring, Looks calmly, sweetly over all, And knows no suffering. —T. A., in Philomathean Monthly. BOOK REVIEW. Songs of the Eastern Colleges. Hinds and Noble, New York City. Price #1.25. This volume contains many old and favorite songs of the college student, and also some comparatively new ones which have already met with great popularity among our Eastern colleges. According to the compilers, the collection has been made for two purposes, first, to provide the Eastern colleges with songs which are always used whenever the students gather together; second, to deepen the spirit of brotherhood already existing between college organizations. Nothing in the entire college life is more "provocative of contagious geniality" and "brings so strongly before the graduate's mind the glori-ous days of yore" than the college songs. Such a book as this will no doubt find itself cheerfully welcomed by both students and alumni. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. The Pleased Customer is not a stranger in our estab-lishment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, IXEexe:tLa.n.t Tailor, 29 Chambersburg Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. CITY HOTEL, Main Street, - Gettysburg, Pa. Free Bus to an from all trains. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. Dinner with drive over field with four or more, Jr.35. Rates, $1.50 to $2.00 per Day. John E. Hughes, Prop. L. M. ALLEMAN, Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware, CETTYSBURC, PA. The only Jobbing House in Adams County. CMS. E. BARBEHENR, THE EAGLE HOTEL Corner Main and Washington Sts. Cream of Roses For Chapped Hands, Face, Lips, and Rough Skin. Removes Tan and Sunburn. Gentlemen should use it after shaving. It cures razor pimples. Price, 25 cents. For sale at CODORI'S DRUG STORE. d. B. ^zmillei1, Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes, GETTYSBURG, PA. WEIKERT & CEOUSE, Butchers, Everything in this line we handle. GIVE US A TRIAL. Baltimore Street, - Gettysburg. BOME AND SEE one of the larg-est, best lighted and equipped Modem PMoEraDliic Studios in Pennsylvania, which will be oc-cupied about April 1st. Nos. 20 and 22 Chambersburg St. On opposite side of street from old stand. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTIZERS. GETTYSBURG, PA. Merville E. Zinn, Proprietor. The Leading Hotel. Rates $2.00 per day. Cuisine and Service First-Class. Long &. Holtzworth Livery Attached. I mO/fc©=VI/|t/ o£ T OA/1/V CUill DQ. Seligman, Taiio*. B Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. ; J. A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with . Bread, Rolls, Etc., At short notice and reason-able rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W. F. CODORI £ Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal and Sausage. Special rates to clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG, PA. Stetson and Douglas SHOES For a full line of samples of all the latent tyles In Stetson and Douglas Shoes call to see C. E3. COOK Room 24 East All goods delivered -within three days How to Attract and Hold an Audience ■pVERY teacher, every clergyman, every ■■-' lawyer, every man or woman or youth who is likely ever to have occasion in commit-tee, or in public, to enlist the interest of one or more hearers, and convince them every per-son who ever has to, or is likely to have to " speak " to one or more listeners will find in our new book a clear, concise, complete hand-book which will enable him to succeed/ PRICE—$1.00 Postpaid—CLOTH HINDS & NOBLE, Publishers 4-5-6-12-13-14 Cooper Institute, N. Y. City Schoolbooks of allpublishers at one store 50 YEARS' EXPERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPVniGHTS Ac. Anvone sending n sket oh nnd description may quickly ascertain our opinion free whether an invention is probably patentab.e. Comrmmicn-tlons strictly confidential. Handbook on Patents sent free. Oldest agency for securing patents. Patents taken throuKh Munn & Co. receive special notice, without charge, in the Scientific American. A handsomely illustrated weeklr. T.nrtrest cir-culation of any scientific journal. Terms, $3 a year; four months, $L Sold by all newsdealers. MUNN&Co/5618™^New York Branch Office. 625 F St., Washington, D. C. GO TO. HARRY B. SEFTON'S (Barber (Shop For a good shave or hair cut. Barbers' supplies a specialty. Razor Strops, Soaps, Brushes, Creams, Combs, Mugs and Coke Dandruff cure. No. 38 Baltimore St. GETTYSBURG. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Stationery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a specialty. THESE FIRMS ARE O. K. PATRONIZE THEM. E. H. FORREST Butchet Beef, Veal, Pork, Lamb. Special rates to Clubs. * 185CM902 ^ Our Name has stood as a guarantee of Quality for over half a Century JEWEIlEt* RJHD SIIlVEf*S]VUTH MJf. and 216 Market St., - . Harrisburg, Pa. Latest Designs Prices Reasonable Chas. S. Mumper. ^^ FURNITURE Picture Frames of all sorts Repair work done promptly t®*I will also buy or exchange any second-hand furniture. 4 Cbambersburg St., - -.".- GETTYSBURG, PA. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on Baker o£ Bread and. Faney Calces

Issue 48.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1989. ; R~,vw:w voR R~:I,~cIous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Eduealional Inslilule of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid al St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Ri~v~i~w t:oR R~:,ucous; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w voR R~:,.~(aot;s; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard .A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors JulylAugust 1989 Volume 48 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:v~:w voa R~:u{:lot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v,v:w vo~ R~:uctous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service fl~r the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society fl~r the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Religious life in no way merits the descriptive word dull. Currently conferences, workshops, and books deal with the theme of "refounding religious life." Another approach looks more towards a "creating of re-ligious life," often with the addition of "for the 21st century." Along with the recent publication of Pope John Paul II's letter to the United States bishops responding to the findings of the 1983 papal commission study of religious life in this country, we find ourselves confronted with various challenges which indicate that religious life remains a valuable concern not only for those who are dedicated to this special form of Chris-tian living, but also for those who support it and are the collaborators and recipients of its service. Religious life takes on its many different forms as a response by those people to God's call to point the way in bridging anew the gap be-tween the lived values of Gospel and culture. Any particular grouping of religious challenge the rest of the Church peoples (including other re-ligious) to a continuing conversion call in one or other aspect of their Christian living. Religious frequently make uncomfortable the govern-ing and teaching authority as well as their own benefactors and friends by their witness and service in those very areas where the Church may b~ slipping into more secular values and ways of acting than gospel val-ues and gospel acting. It is not surprising that religious have been in the forefront of the liberation theology and base-community movement in Latin America. The charism or grac~ which identifies the special call to a particular religious grouping often attracts some kind of participation by both di-ocesan priests and laity. The Third Orders of some of the older religious institutes and the sodalities of some of the more modern apostolic oiders are examples of a long-standing tradition of affiliation. Today there are many more questions about various ways of belonging within the relig-ious grouping--often referred to as "memberships" in the religious fam-ily. Sister Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M., raises some of these issues in her article, "The Shifting Order of Religious Life in Our Church." We are still in the early stages of this new focusing of collaboration in life and in ministry, and there are difficulties and obscurities still to be resolved. We will continue to find it necessary to clarify the identity and responsi-bilities for members dedicated in a specially graced form of life from 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 other parties with different vocations and yet somehow drawn by grace to a similar model of discipleship. As part of the special spiritual legacy which monastic life, particu-larly in its more contemplative form, has been to the Church, this spe-cial form of religious life may have its own contribution to offer in terms of ecumenical efforts. Fr. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., opens up some possible ways of considering this question in his article, "Monasticism: A Place of Deeper Unity~" The AIDS crisis predictably draws forth a religious life response since it presents a special need calling for a gospel ministry. Robert Sirico, C.S.P., calls us to reflect upon our own reactions of fear and stigma concerning those with AIDS .within our own religio.us groupings as well as those AIDS patients whom we intend to serve. The issue of confidentiality is a particularly sensitive point both in our religious com-munity life and in our ministry. His article, "An Improbable Fiction?: Religious Life Confronts the AIDS Crisis," was originally printed in the October 1988 In-formation, the bulletin of the Religious Formation Con-ference. Re!igious life, with all its graced attempts to respon~l to gaps between the Gospel and culture, today finds itself, along with the wider Church and with the contemporary world, caught in the gap itself. As a result, the questions and issues will necessarily have only tentative and at-tempted responses while the Church and our world remain in this in-between time. Reflecting this kind of ongoing response, in FORUM we publish two recent letters from Father Stephen Tutas, S.Mo, president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, to its members. All of us continue to need prisms through which we might more quickly catch the movements and fleeting images of God's grace alive in our everyday religious life world. Each time we come to see a new aspect or see in new ways, we face the personal challenge of reinte-grating the truth of our lives, our relationships, and our work. May some of our writers in the articles in this issue be those prisms for us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Reproducing the Pattern of His Death John McKinnon, S.T.D. Father John McKinnon is a priest of the Diocese of Ballarat in Victoria, Australia where he is currently the Vicar for Religious. He works extensively with the various Ministry to Priests Programs and has played a pioneering role in the development of lay spirituality in Australia. His address is the Center for Human Development; 24 Custance St.; Farrer, A.C.T. 2607; Australia. ]n speaking about spirituality, I think that we Often tend to focus immedi-ately on the various ways by which we may seek to foster it--prayer, reflective ministry, and so forth--rather than on what it is we are seek-ing. Spirituality to me speaks of the way we look at life and respond to it. It is the assessment and response that we draw from the level of our own spirit, from that inner point of our self, that is closest to God. It is made up of the values, beliefs, convictions, insights, and so forth, ab-sorbed and developed over the years, which enable us to give meaning and pattern to the myriad experiences of life, and on which we base our deliberate choices. Basic Attitudes for Christian Spirituality For us as Christians these values, beliefs, convictions, and so forth are powerfully affected by our faith in tl~e person of Jesus and our'con-tact with him. This faith in Jesus and contact with him need to be per-sonalized and deepened through time spent intimately with him in prayer. The truth of any person is leai'nt most deeply only by opening to that per-son in love. Friendship is built on time spent together; it is expressed and nourished in devoted action. And it seems to me that both are equally indispensable. In his Epistle to the Philippians, in a very intimate and personally revealing passage, Paul writes about himself: 483 tlS~l / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death. In this way I can hope to take my place in the resurrection of the dead (Ph 3:10- ~). In writing this he was merely outlining his own response to the invi-tation of Jesus, recorded in Mark's gospel: "If anyone wants to be a fol-lower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-low me" (Mk 8:34). Paul wanted to follow Jesus into the triumph of his resurrection, but he clearly realized that following Jesus meant firstly shar-ing his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death. The motivation for Paul's choice to follow Jesus was based on his knowledge of Jesus. Knowledge. in the Hebrew mind was not an aca-demic "knowledge about," but an enfleshed knowledge made possible only by love. I would think that only in this "love-knowledge" rela-tionship could any of us find the inspiration to face life as Jesus faced death, and to run the risk of "losing our life in order to find it," sus-tained only by trust in Jesus and the subtle intuition that in that way we might in fact find our life and live it to the full. Paul's comment in Philippians 3:10-11 seems to sum up for me the essential features of any disciple's looking at life and responding to it. It sums up the authentic Christian spirituality. Indeed, the pattern of Je-sus' death reveals the deepest dimensions of Jesus' own spirituality. I presume that Paul was not a masochist, and that Jesus was not in-viting his disciples to suicide. Jesus loved life. There is a sense in which we can say that in his moments of dying Jesus was never more truly alive and, indeed, living life to the full, at a depth and with an intensity that he had never had to muster before. The conclusion drawn by the centu-rion in Mark's gospel, who had known Jesus only in his dying moments, is also very revealing. Mark writes: The centurion, who was standing in front of him, had seen how he had died, and he said, 'In truth this man was a son of God'(Mk 15:39). In wanting to reproduce the pattern of Jesus' death, Paul was paradoxi-cally expressing his own desire to live life to the full. The Source of Salvation The Epistle to the Hebrews (5:9) says that Jesus "became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation." We open ourselves to salvation as we in turn obey Jesus, as we attune our hearts to his, and through his to the Father's. It becomes ours, therefore, as we plumb the Reproducing the Pattern of His Death truth, as we accept the dignity and worth of every other human person, and as we commit ourselves to that dignity totally. That is why St. Paul dan write in his Epistle to the Philippians that he wants "to reproduce the pattern of Jesus' death." He sees that sim-ply as the way to become fully alive, and eventually "to take his place (with Jesus) in the resurrection from the dead." To obey Jesus and to find salvation mean to reproduce the pattern of his death, or, as the gos-pels put it, to take up our cross and to'follow him. What does this involve, then, for us? It means that we commit ourselves, too, to the vision and the priori-ties of Jesus; that, like Jesus, we let life touch us; that we respond to these temptations in the same way that Jesus responded to his. Our spiri-tuality is to be modeled on the spirituality of Jesus, on his values, be-liefs, and resources. Sharing His Sufferings No one can,be protected from the vicissitudes .of life. We do, how-ever, have some control over the nature of the inner suffering consequent upon these vicissitudes. In the face of the evil of the world we can choose our response. W.e can choose the inner suffering of absurdity and despair, of the sterile meaninglessness of a world without God, of the superficial and unsatisfying logic of the short-term, of the poisoning and paralyzing choice of bitterness and the refusal to forgive. We can face life with no hope and look on everyone as beyond redemption and on the world as condemned to an unchanging sameness. The other alternative is to taste the suffering involved in living the consequences of our own integrity with its seeming powerlessness; the feelings of irrelevance and nonserise involved in trusting a God who, we believe, makes sense of the meaningless sometimes only in the long-term; the dying-to-self ,involved in forgiving and the price of the perse-verance involved in pouring oneself out for others, trusting against hope that they may one day change and be converted. When St. Paul prayed to share the sufferings of Jesus, he was pray-ing that his sufferings would be those involved in the second alternative. Those were the sufferings of the dying Jesus. Those sufferings were the way to life. Context of Commitment It is the context of our life that gives flesh to the living out of our spirituality. I would like briefly to allude to a few consequences of this 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 spirituality of Christ as it touches the lives of all involved in active min-istry, priests, religious and laity. To some extent we can shield ourselves from the difficulties of life by choosing not to love. That, however, would be to betray our call to discipleship. The source of Jesus' experience of failure was his commit-ment to love. Luke makes this point quite clearly in his final prelude to the public life of Jesus, the meeting at Nazareth of Jesus and his fellow townspeople. There Jesus declared his manifesto in the words of Isaiah: The spirit of the Lord has been giv~en to me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor (Lk 4:18); and it was there that he was violently rejected by the former companions of his childhood. The starting point of our imitation of Christ is a~commitment to depth in ourselves and to share with others the wonderful good news of God's love for all, and consequently to allow our own liberation to grow, to share in the liberation of others, and to work together for justice and free-dom for them. The Call 1. Being Authentic The choice to be authentic means firstly that, like Jesus, we accept and respect both the wonderful dignity of our human nature and at the same time its limitations. It means that we accept the' fact that to be human is to grow. To re-fuse to grqw is to be untrue to the thirst for life and fullness imprinted on our nature by our creating Father. But growth is painful. It is some-times easier to refuse to grow and to change, to opt instead for the fa-miliar and the unchallenging, even to obstruct and to attack change both in ourselves and in the institutions that we make up. Integrity means that we make peace with gradualness and that we re-spect the laws of sequential growth in ourselves and in others. It means that we accept the need for performance and ambition in the establish-ing of our own sense of identity, and it equally means that we be pre-pared to relinquish in time our reliance on performance in order to sur- Reproducing the Pattern of His Death / 487 render to the risk of intimacy, of forgiveness, and of grace. Eventually it means that we move to the even broader task of universal love and of generativity. Each of these transitions can be painful, and the tempta-tions to stay as we are, to secure our own comfort and peace, are strong. We do so, however, at the price of our integrity and the call of our cre-ating and redeeming God who sent. Jesus that we might live life to the full. Being authentically human means that we need to make peace even with our weakness. We have some strengths, but we do not have them all. What we admire in others is often beyond our own reach, and vice versa. We cannot do everything. None of us is "superman." We live, for example, in a day that has only twenty-four hours and not twenty-eight. We are not called to do whatever is good, but to discern what God is asking of us, to do no more than that, and to surrender the rest. Jesus had to choose between consolidating where he was, or going "to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there, too" (Mk 1:38)-- he could not do both. With time the very process of aging brings us in touch With new weakness and limitation. Eventually we have to make peace even with our sin. At the price of our sense of self-reliance we have to surrender to the need for forgive-ness and of mercy. In doing so we find our true dignity, and learn to re-spect ourselves because we are loved by God. A further consequence of the choice for discipleship is that we com-mit ourselves to follow our own duly informed and educated conscience. Jesus allowed himself to be led by the Spirit. It is so easy to avoid fac-ing truth and its .consequences and to persuade ourselves that what we are really doing from fear of the opinion of others or from a concern for our own comfort is being done for the sake of pastoral flexibility or main-taining peace or some other equally inadequate.excuse. And yet, at the same time, we also have to recognize that often we are not sure what our conscience is asking of us, and we have to live in uncertainty. Basically the commitment we make to ministry is a commitment to love. We know that love is the only kind of power that can ultimately give life and bring freedom. The commitment to love immediately rules out the possibility of using other kinds of power, all other kinds of power, even ostensibly for the good of people. It applies across'the board, within the Church as well as in the broader world outside. It pre-cludes manipulation, coercion, persuasion. It is notoriously ineffective. It raises whole issues of the interrelationship of institution and individ-ual person, because institutions made up of imperfectly converted and 41~1~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 motivated people necessarily require some kind ofsanctions. It requires clear perceptions of priorities; and the constant readiness to change and to repent, because our ongoing experience and reflection reveal that we do not consistently discernpriorities clearly and choose appropriately. The commitment to love also involves a commitment to non-violence (which is not the same as non-resistance to evil). It is the un-willingness to counter violence with violence; it is the choice to over-whelm evil with love, rather, than to double it by retaliating. Non-violent resistance sometimes calls for total self-sacrifice; more often it means apparent ineffectiveness. There are plenty of champions of jus-tice who are prepared to seek it~with violence. That was not Jesus' way. His non-violence made him unpopular, no. doubt, to the Zealots, the "ur-ban guerillas" of his day; it makes his followers equally unpopular in our day. It is~also ineffective. It ensured the inevitability of Jesus' arrest when he was apprehended in Gethsemane, but also elicited his strict cen-sure there of the violent response of one of his followers (Mt 26:52-54). It makes sense only in a world where God is the basis of meaning. It means that we may have to leave free, to go their own way, even to walk into disaster, those whom we love or for whom we have respon-sibility. That was the experience of Jesus. He had to let his ow.n special friends, hi's own diSciples, walk unheedingly into unfaith. He could not, and would not ev.en if he could, live their lives for them. He could not, would not, make their decisions for them. He had to let them_, grow up. Handing them over into the loving hands of his Father did not help all that much. He had learnt the requirements of love precisely from that same Father. As far as the Gospels are concerned, Judas did not come back. On the other hand, the Peter whom he had to leave to walk into utter perplexity and loss of faith did grow up and was a wiser and greater man. We follow the same paths as Jesus. The choice to love makes us notoriously vulnerable. Where our way of life is one that involves our working closely with others, an option for love may mean at times all the pain and frustration of working for consensus. The democratic vote can sometimes simply mean the coercive imposition on the minority of the will of the major-ity. At times it may be appropriate. Often it is not. An honest commit-ment to consensus will mean for many the readiness to devote the time and effort needed to develop the necessary skills of listening, assertion, and negotiation. We need to face the temptation to ineffectiveness, at times even to irrelevance, the jibes of naivete and so forth, and, like Jesus, explore the Reproducing the Pattern of His Death depth of our own authenticity, listen to his heart and to the heart of our creating Father. We need to listen to our own hearts, and somehow trust that integrity, truth, and love make sense, the only sense, and that our God is a God of the long-term, and not of efficient and immediate re-sults. 2. Forgiving We are familiar with the temptations to bitterness and to unforgi-veness. Not only is our world polarized; in some ways, too, our Church is also. Forgiveness is a decision. It is a decision that has consequences. When we decide to forgive, we surrender our right to use the memory of the wrongs again, either for our own self-pity or to store up and accu-mulate them in order to attack again whoever has hurt us. In a situation of ongoing disagreement or.difference, forgiveness in-volves a commitment to seek whatever common ground there is and to work for reconciliation and even at times for consensus. It involves the need to move beyond the words or the positions we may have adopted to listen to our own hearts and to the hearts of those with whom we dis-agree. It is a consequence of choosing the spirituality of Jesus. It leads to life and to peace, but it has its price. ~Forgiveness can seem like the surrender of our own dignity and self-respect, or of our loyalty to our friends and respect for them. 3. Committed . Perhaps our greatest temptation is to lose hope in people. We get hurt through life. We lose o~ur enthusiasm, even our courage. We try some things and our efforts are rejected. We know the temptation to cut our losses: we do our job; we do what is expected of us. But we lose our com-mitment, and we do little or no more than seems necessary. It is difficult to keep pouring out our lives, to keep working enthusi-astically or to try to introduce innovations only to be met with little or no response. It is easier to settle down, to look after ourselves, to make life comfortable to lose hope. But to lose hope is tochoose against life. Jesus faced blankness, in-difference, rejection, mockery, and blasphemy. In the face of that he chose to pour out his life "for the many." He knew the temptation, but he also listened to his own depths and to the heart of his Father. He died still hoping against hope in people. And for many his hope and his com-mitment bore fruit. There is in the depths of every human person an open-ing towards truth and a connaturality with love. Jesus believed that. He saw it in himself. He wanted to set it free in everyone. He would never 490/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 give up hope in people's changing and being converted; he would go to death for the sake of that hope. A truly Christ-based spirituality calls for a commitment in 'hope to people. The Outcome Our active ministry and lifestyle, therefore, whether we be priests, religious or laity, present us with infinitely nuanced temptations tO,work other than in love--to compi:omise and to find our way around our con-sciences, to choose :power in one or other of its many forms, to lose pa-tience with the apparent ineffectiveness of non-violence and love, to avoid the risk of intimacy and to settle instead for subst.itutes. We lose confidence in our God who gives meaning, sometimes too late and only beyond the grave, to our striving, for integrity and authenticity, and we prefer more tangible results and accountable successes, even at the price of what we know we are really called to be. We know we can give lip- ~service to forgiveness but not have the energy.to follow up its conse-quences. We feel the enticing attraction to settle down, to make life com-fortable, to. be "realistic." It is by facing these temptations, recognizing them and naming them, and then by choosing instead to be authentic, to trust, to forgive, and to hope that we work out our salvation and come to savor that life in abun-dance that Jesus wishes to share with us. As we respond to life as Jesus did, we know his peace and his joy, and we get in touch with the "blessedness" he spoke about in the be-atitudes. There is ai~ irrepressible quality to these experiences. We do not have to force 6urseives to find them. They come of themselves. They do not depend on circumstances beyond our control, and require no "fly-ing- carpet" ride through life. Like Jesus who could thank his Father even on the night he was betrayed, like Paul who could write: ". as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so, through Christ, does our conso-lation overflow" (2 Co 1:5), we, too, find the unexpected presence and power of peace and joy within us. Even in the very moments of our "re-producing the pattern of his death," we "know Christ and the power of his resurrection" (Ph 3: 10). It might seem to be paradox, but our ex-perience knows it to be truth. The victory that Jesus has won over evil, and in Which we share, is not a victory in which everything has been done already for us. The vic-tory won for us by Jesus means that we now have within us the resources to face whatever comes and to. triumph in love. It is a victory in which we actively participate, and through-which, precisely by our own par- Reproducing the Pattern of His Death / 491 ticipation, we ourselves become more fully alive and more authentically human. No one can do that for us, not even Jesus. But he does do it with us as we allow his Spirit scope to breathe within us. Mission to the World A~ccording tO John's gospel, on the night of his resurrection Jesus ap-peared,~ to his disciples and commissioned them to do what he had done: As the Father sent me, so I am sending you (Jn 20:21). Jesus had been sent to engage with evil and to overwhelm it with truth ~r~ love. He showed the way to us. The Epistle to the Hebrews writes: As it was his purpose to bring a great many of his sons into glory, it was appropriate that God . . . should make perfect, through suffering, the leader who would take them to their salvation (Heb 2: 10). The same Epistle consequently recommends: Let us not lose sight of Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it t6 perf6ction (Heb 12:2i. We follow the path that Jesus has trodden. He has commissioned us to show the same way, to others. That is our mission: we show the way, and we show it by living it ourselves. We cannot live the lives of others for them, any more than Jesus could live ours. But we can show them and, by our love, we can empower them, as Jesus has done with us. Though we might all feel embarrassed to say so, really our mission to others must be summed up in the words of St. Paul, "My brothers, be united in following my rule of life" (Ph 3:i7), or, more succinctly, "Take me for your model, as I take Christ" (1 Co I1:1). Like Peter we would all like to follow in the footsteps of a popularly acclaimed and universally accepted Christ. But there is no such Christ. Like the two sons of Zebedee, we would like to share in a victory where struggle is not necessary. But there is no such victory. Jesus has won the victory, but it was won on the wood of the cross. We share in his vic-tory, but we do it as we drink his cup and are baptized with his baptism (see Mk 10:35-40). As with the mission of Jesus, so, too, then, with our own: the suc-cess of our ministry will be counted not by the numbers of those who may listen to us or cooperated in our projects but in the ones who are encouraged by our example and empowered by our love to engage with the evil in their own breasts and meet it in love. It will be found in those 492 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 who allow the failures of their lives and of their relationships and the .fail-ure of their projects to touch them, and who feel the consequences of those failures, but choose, whether wearily or resolutely, to continue to reach out lovingly in trust, in forgiveness, and in hope. Jesus' message really is one of love, of peace, ofjgy, and of happi-ness- but not as the world understands and gives them. His message is one of victory, but of victory through the Cross, even for his followers. They have to engage with life and they have to let life touch them. It will hurt, not because God wants it that way, but because of the sin of the world and the mutual destructiveness in which it takes shape. This sin of the world can be overwhelmed. Jesus has made it possible. But where it touches people, there people have to engage with it. Conclusion A truly Christian spirituality is one that responds to life as Jesus did. That is the only Christian spirituality. "All I want is to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and to share his suffering by repro-ducing the pattern of his death. In this way I can hope to take my place in the resurrection of the dead." As we treasure our experience and pon-der it in our hearts, as Mary did, I believe that our pondering can fruit-fully be done only by relating it to the pattern of his death. Other values and~insights will modify many forms of this basic Chris-tian spirituality; various lifestyles will determine the concrete shapes that it takes; and wisdom and experience will dictatehow best to ponder and to get in touch with those spiritual depths of Jesus. But all must be based firmly on him or they will fall short of salvation. And he wants so much that we share hig experience of life and taste that life "to the full!" Work and Leisure: Our Judeo- Christian Foundations Melannie. Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D., is currently dividing her time between teaching and writing. She recently completed six years as novice director. Her address is Notre Dame Academy; Route one, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. Recently I was asked to give a workshop on leisure and spirituality. As part of my research, I looked in the Reader's Guide to Catholic Periodi-cals to see what already had been written on the topic within the past few years. When I looked up the word leisure I was surprised to find very few articles listed under it, but I noticed, there were many articles under Lent. I looked up the word play and found even fewer articles under play, but there were many under Plato, and planned parenthood. Next I tried the word celebration. I found several articles under celebration but many more under celibacy, cemeteries, and censorship. Finally, I looked up the word fun. I found no :articles under fun, but plenty under fund raising, fundamentalism,, and funerals. This experience made me realize how little has been written on the topic of leisure and other related topics which, I feel, are fundamental to our Christian faith. This article will discuss the Judeo-Christian un-derstanding of leisure. It will begin with an exploration of the biblical understanding of the nature of work. Then it will look at the tradition of the Sabbath, the great 'leisure day,' and show how a balancing of work and leisure is essential to a healthy Christian spirituality. Let us turn first to the book of Genesis. What does Genesis tell us about work? It tells us many things. First, it says something extremely significant: God works. This concept of, a working God was something of an oddity among the peoples of that time period. Many other civiliza- 493 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 tions envisioned their gods as beings who did not work. Their gods lei-surely romped around on mountain tops or lay around sleeping all day. But the Hebrews, based on their unique experience of God, saw their God differently. At the beginning of Genesis they posted a large orange sign with big black letters on it: Go~)AT WORK. But Genesis tells us something even more revelatory than the fact that God works. It tells us why God works. He works not because he has to work; he works because he wants to work. His work, creation, is not for his sake; his work is for others' sake, for humankind's sake, for our sake. In Genesis, God chooses to work because he chooses to share some-thing of himself with someone else. So already in the opening pages of Scripture, work is seen as being intimately associated with the act of self-giving-- a self-giving for the benefit of others. A third thing we notice in the creation narrative is how God works. He seems to enjoy it! God is not portrayed as someone who hates his job or finds it mere drudgery. We do not see God complaining, for exam-ple, at the beginning of the fourth day, "Darn it! Today l've got to make those stupid birds! I'll never get them to fly--I just know it!" On the con-trary, God takes delight in the work process, pronouncing creation, the product of his labors, as "good" at the end of each day. In Genesis, we also notice that leisure or rest is an integral part of the work process. God rests not merely on the last day; he rests, he takes "time off," between each day of creation. The ending of each day brings closure to that particular day's activity. The seventh day, the Sab-bath, is just a longer rest period--an entire day of complete rest. But throughout his work, God has been taking other rests--"mini-Sab-baths"-- all along, Rest or leisure is part and parcel of the work proc-ess. Leisure, like work, must be good if God himself does it. In the creation account, Adam, like God, works. "The Lord then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it" (Gn 2:15). Work is not a punishment for Adam's sin. It is one of the ways Adam is made in the image of God, A working God means a working Adam. Adam's work is a sharing in the creative activity of God. Adam's work, like God's work, consists primarily in cultivation and care. But something happens to work after the Fal!: Adam sweats and Eve had labor pains. Genesis 'seems to be saying that after their act of dis-obedience, Adam and Eve suffered some serious consequences. All work--whether bringing forth new I.ife through farming or giving birth-- would now necessarily involve fatigue, frustration, and pain. Work and Leisure / 495 In summary, then, Genesis presents some fundamental attitudes to-ward work. Work is .good--even God works. Work is an act of self-giving directed toward the good of others. It consists primarily in culti-vation and care, in the bringing forth of new life. Work should basically be a joyful activity even though it often entails fatigue and pain. Rest or leisure is good, too. It is somehow integral to the work process. Altfiough Genesis beautifully describes work and leisure, it is in Exo-dus and Deuteronomy that we learn more precisely where leisure comes from and, more importantly, what leisure is for. For the Israelites, the concept of leisure is identified with the tradi-tion of the Sabbath. This tradition is expressed explicitly in the fourth commandment: "Remember to keep holy the Sabbath Day" (Ex 20:8). The key phrase in that commandment is "keep hol~,." What exactly does "keep holy" mean? The remainder of that commandment explains what it means: "Six days you may labor and do all your work,, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, your God" (Ex 20:9-10). The implication is that to "keep holy" means "not t.o work." But wl~y were the Israelites directed not to work on the Sabbath? The reason is found in Deuteronomy's version of the fourth command-ment. This version adds the following: Remember that you were a servant in the land of Egypt and that the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and out-stretched arm; because of this, the Lord God has commanded you to keep the Sabbath (Dt 5:15). The reason for not working is found in the words "because of this." What does the "this" refer to? It refers to the exodus--the great work of Yahweh. In other words, the Israelites were directed not to work on the Sabbath in order to take time to remember their deliverance from bond-age in Egypt by a powerful yet loving God. In his book, Confessions of a Workaholic, Wayne Oates says that the chief motive for keeping the Sabbath was gratitude to God. It is not fear of God, nor the need to hew the line of ritualistic practice. Rather it is the motive of gratitude for deliverance from slavery, grati-tude for the gift ~f freedom. ~ But the Israelites were to do more than to set aside a day on which to thank God for their freedom--as important as that is. They were to express their gratitude to God by the way they used their precious gift of freedom during all the days of the week. Just as God had used his free-dom to free the Israelites from slavery, so, too, were they to use their 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 freedom to free others from slavery--the slavery of ignorance, poverty, hunger, ill health, fear, old age or whatever form that slavery took. In his book, Flowers in the Desert, Demetrius Dumm, O.S.B., has written a beautiful section on the Ten Commandments. His treatment of the fourth commandment is especially relevant here. He sees the fourth commandment as a "transitional commandment"--one that comes af-ter the three commandments that are concerned with the Israelites' rela-tionship with God and one that comes before those six which govern the Israelites' relationship~with each other. The first three commandments called the Israelites to affirm the mystery of God, writes Dumm. They called the Israelites to trust in God's basic goodness, to see him not only .as powerful but as loving. The last six commandments direct the Israel-ites to affirm that same divine mystery present in every human being by the fact that he or she is created by God. Durum writes: Every creature deserves, therefore, to be respected because of its share of divine mystery. One of the most powerful tendencies of man is to eliminate mystery in his life because it cannot be controlled and thus seems threatening to him. The most natural way for man to control the mystery in :creation is through his labor. The Sabbath commandment or-ders the Israelite to interrupt his labor every seventh day as a reminder that that labor is intended by God to release the mystery in life and not crush it.2 What does all of this have to do with me personally and with my Christian faith? Maybe we can answer that question by taking a few "lei-sure moments" to reflect on these questions. What is my. attitude toward my work? Do I see it as a way of self-giving for the benefit of others, or do I view it as a drudgery or, worse yet, asia punishment? Is my work a way of earning God's love, or is it an expression of gratitude for God who loves me already? Is my work a way of serving others, or has it become my sole means of earning the esteem and respect of others? How is my work helping to free others from slavery--no matter what form that slavery might be? In my work, do I respect the divine mystery in creation and people, or is my work an attempt to control or manipulate creation and people? Have I become a slave to my work, or am I free to let go of it at times? Can I, for example, freely walk away from my work when lei-sure calls me to praye~, to relaxation, or to sleep? Have I learned the art of bringing each day.to a close, entrusting the fruits of my labor to the Lord? Do I set aside regular.time for leisure--for "mini-Sabbaths" and for longer ones? Do I use this "wasted time" to remember God's deliv- Work and Leisure / 497 erance.of me from sin, to reflect on his goodness to me, and to thank and praise him for his power and love? Can I just be with God or must I always be doing for him? Do I find the Lord both in my work and in my leisure? Do I take time to be with others, to enjoy their company, to play with them, to appreci-ate the divine mystery present in them? Or is the only time I am with others when I am working with them or for them? In conclusion, then, we have seen how a healthy balancing of work and leisure is essential for our Christian faith. In his article, "The Spiri-tual Value of Leisure," Leonard Doohan explains how work and leisure manifest our faith in God. Unlike those who profess some religions, we claim to believe that God is near to us, in us, in others, in the wonders of the world. Only in lei-sure dowe prove this belief by giving time to developing attitudes nec-essary to meet him. We also believe we can experience God personally and in community, but does our faith show this to others in the life we live? Are we "working" tourists who look at everything and see noth-ing, or do we pause, appreciate, wonder, and praise God who, we be-lieve, reveals himself in creation? It is not by work that we earn salva-tion, but in leisure that we appreciate that it is gift. Leisure is the cor-rective that puts work in perspective and shows forth our faith.3 NOTES ~ Wayne E. Oates, .Confessions of a Workaholic: The Facts about Work Addiction (Nashville: Abingdon, 1971), p. 35. 2 Demetrius Dumm, O.S.B., Flowers in the Desert: A Spirituality of the Bible (New York: Paulist, 1987), pp. 14-15. 3 Leonard Do6han, "The Spiritual Value of Leisure," Spirituality Today, 31 (June 1979), p. 164, Positive Wellness: Horizon for Religious Experience Jerome A. Cusumano, S.J. Father Jerry Cusumano, S.J., is a member of the Japanese Province of the Society of Jesus. He is currently engaged in studies at Arizona State University. His address is B:'ophy College Prep; 4701 N. Central: Phoenix, Arizona 85012. In this article I show how the integrated approach to health as exemplified in the holistic health movement can serve as a vehicle for opening a per-son's consciousness to the religious dimension of life. Since the goal of holistic health is "positive wellness," it is meant for those in good health who wish to achieve even better health, those who, in other words, are no longer focused on the negative problems of health such as giving up smoking, controlling drinking, losing weight, and so on. Holistic health encompasses at least the following four dimeffsions: nu-trition, exercise, awareness, and lifestyle. Since numerous self-help books as well as much scholarly research have more than adequately ex-plicated what is essential to each particular dimension, I do not intend to repeat here what has been better said elsewhere. However, I will briefly summarize what seems to be generally accepted in each area in order to establish a basis for the reflections which follow. 1 will treat the four basic factors in ascending order of importance. Nutrition Quantitatively, one should systematically "under-eat" in such a way as to maintain his body weight at the level it was when physical growth was completed, usually about the age of twenty. Qualitatively, one's diet should be based primarily on whole grains, raw vegetables, and fresh fruit. The diet should be, in yogic terms, sattvic, that is, nei- 498 Positive Wellness / 499 ther making the body sluggish nor stimulating it, but rather leaving it en-ergized and calm at the same time. Since one needs energy for exercise and calmness for awareness, a sattvic diet disposes the body properly for the next two dimensions of holistic health. Exercise Good food will not be adequately assimilated if the blood and oxy-gen circulation of the body are poor; conversely, a body kept in good condition will be healthy even on a poorer diet. Thus exercise is more important than nutrition for positive wellness. One needs to do some form of stretching exercises every day in order to maintain flexibility and alignment in the musculo-skeletal frame. What is gained during exercise times should be maintained at other times by sitting and standing in pos-tures which keep the shoulders and pelvis in line and the back straight. One also needs some form of daily aerobic exercise done for at least twenty minutes a session in order to revitalize and refresh the cardiovas-cular and respiratory systems by increasing the oxygen supply in the blood. The amount of time one devotes to exercise serves as a good gauge of one's desire for positive wellness. Nevertheless, even exercise is of less importance for positive wellness than the next dimension, aware-heSS. Awareness A period of at least twenty minutes a day should be devoted to some method of systematic awareness in the form of relaxation or meditation. The possibilities range over the spectrum from Feldenkrais's body aware-ness exercises or Jacobson's progressive relaxation method done in the prone, position, through the measured movements of Tai Chi done stand, ing and walking, to the one-pointed focusing of zazen or yoga done in the more demanding postures such as the full lotus. ~ Turning one's con-scious powers in on oneself while in slow m6vement and/or remaining still for a good length of time not only revitalizes the conscious mind and relaxes the body, but also provides a place where unconscious material, such as negative emotions, can .surface and be disposed of through aware-ness. While aerobic exercise refreshes one through an expenditure of en-ergy, in awareness one gathers his energy, concentrates it, and so re-charges himself. Furthermore, while it is possible to both eat well and exercise enough, and yet still lead a harried life, this is not possible for one who wishes to practice awareness regularly. The daily period set aside for purposefully quieting both body and mind through awareness presupposes a lifestyle conducive to such an activity. Thus awareness is 500 I Review for Religious, July-August 1989 both the support of and the fruit of an ordered lifestyle which is the fourth and most important dimension for positive wellness. Lifestyle In proportion as a stressful lifestyle has deleterious effects on the physical and psychical organism, so also a relaxed lifestyle is the single most important factor in promoting positive wellness. Such a lifestyle in-cludes a job ohe feels satisfied with and sees as worthwhile, as well as a personal life that has sufficient rest, satisfying human relationships, and some absorbing interests. Requisite to such a lifestyle, however, is a I . clear conception of the purpose of one's life, which serves as an implicit criterion by which one can judge which activities are to be undertaken and which relationsh.ips fostered. With a relaxed lifestyle and a clear pur-pose in life a man may reach a state of positive wellness even though he does not scrupulously follow all the directives with regard to nutri-tion, exercise, and awareness. Actually, a clear grasp of the purpose of one's life gives a meaning to striving for positive wellness. "Maintain-ing good physical and mental health is like preserving two fine instru-ments which can be used to carry out the purpose of life . Thus it is clear that the basis of holistic health lies in one's understanding the purpose of his life and learning how to achieve that purpose."2 Religious Experience The state of positive wellness, achieved and maintained by the inte-grated approach of the holistic health movement as summarized above, can dispose one to be more receptive to the transcendental and religious dimension of life. One becomes accustomed to an habitual state of vigor, energy, and wellness which hecan no longer do without. To use Glas-ser's term, one has developed a positive addiction to health itself. This addiction to positive wellness has its source in the good feelings gener-ated through the "spiritualization" of one's body by the increased vi-tality attained through conscious effort and the "physicalization" of one's mind by the greater calmness achieved through attention to bodily processes. At peak moments this dual action issues into a harmony which Glasser call the PA (positive addiction) state. "In the PA state the mind flows with the body. The two cease completely to be antagonistic to each other and blend into one. The state of positive addiction to health is experienced as a drive from within oneself, but not an instinctual drive such as that for sex, nor as a drive stemming from the force of one's will. One feels that he has tapped into another force which is now pulling him to higher levels of Positive Wellness health. Yoga terminology calls this force the Self as opposed to the self. However, it might just as well be conceived in terms of health itself. The healthier one becomes, the more he makes contact with the body's own innate drive to good health and experiences the power of that drive. He gradually opens his consciousness to the life force within him and allows it to work of itself. The healthier one becomes, the more he can tap into this life force. Paradoxically, this means that one becomes a "spiritual" person not by ignoring the body in the pursuit of higher interest, but rather by infusing the body with spirit, that is, by directing one's consciousness to the health of the body in such a way as to energize it as fully as possible. As a result one becomes a more suitable vehicle to channel the energy of life within himself and to others. "As you continue to develop your channels of energy, you will notice differences in your entire being, and these will likewise be observed by those around you, who also benefit from the increase in energy flow."4 Energizing the body through sustained, systematic daily care of one's health puts one into contact with a Life greater than one's own. It is this Life, more than individual will power, which makes possible the main-tenance of a sane lifestyle and consistent attention to nutrition, exercise, and awareness demanded for positive wellness. For some this may be the first step to recognition of transcendent being. For others it may be a preparation through a new experience of satisfaction from taking respon-sibility for one's life. As Bloomfield says, "There is joy in taking full responsibility for your health and happiness.''5 Children at play, fully alive and vibrant, exemplify the joy he speaks of. Theirs is a joy spring-ing from the flexibility and agility of their bodies as well as from the care-free state of mind in which they live. Paradoxically, Ardell notes, it is only as one grows older that he can fully enjoy youth.6 Conclusion If pursued within the holistic health framework the current quest of many for youthfulness and positive wellness can become the occasion for opening oneself to transcendent and religious experience. For positive wellness makes one aware of the source of Life itself. NOTES ~ M. Feldenkrais, Awareness Through Movement, (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), E. Jacobson, You Must Relax, (London: Unwin Paperbacks, 1980). 2 S. Rama, A Practical Guide to Holistic Health, (Honesdale, Pennsylvania: The 50~. / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 Himalayan Publishers, 1980), p. 13. 3 W. Glasser, Positive Addiction, (New York: Harper and Row, 1976), p. 56. '~ R. Shames, The Gift of Health, (New York: Bantam Books, 1982), p. 140. 5 H. Bloomfield, The Holistic Way to Health and Happiness, (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1978), p. 274. 6 D. Ardell, High Level Wellness, (New York: Bantam Books, 1981), p. 67. Full Circle Morning did come! Rise with the full-day Sun! Work begun. Thy Will be done! Day half-spent, Rest in the noonday Sun! Renewed, refre~shed--run! Day-work, toil done. Daystar, noon, setting Sun. Rest! Be still! Tomorrows come . . . maybe? Glory be! Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Striving for Spiritual Maturity: Ideals as Obstacles Wilkie Au, S.J. Father Wilkie Au, S.J., has been working in psychological counseling and spiritual direction. He served for six years as novice director for the Jesuit California Prov-ince. He may be addressed at Loyola Marymount College; Jesuit Community; P.O. Box 45041; Los Angeles, California 90045-0041. The metaphor of a journey captures well what most adults come sooner or later to realize about spiritual and psychological growth: it is a never-ending series of changes and struggles. In a word, it is a hard road to travel. It is tied to the ways we respond to the crises of human life. These crises are both predictable and unpredictable. The predictable ones have been outlined in the literature of deve!opmental psychology, which de-picts the pattern of adult growth, not as an undisturbed straight line, but as a zigzag process often full of setbacks and frustrations. The unpre-dictable crises are easily recognized: sudden illnesses, career disappoint-ments, interpersonal misunderstandings, the loneliness of ruptured rela-tionships, the separation of death or divorce. When faced with the strug-gles that are the inescapable conditions of growth, people frequently ask themselves: "Why go on? Why keep trying, if there is no chance of suc-cess? What difference does it make any way?" The frustrations of seem-ingly endless change--new jobs, new residences, new relationships-- force many to question whether it is worth all the effort. These are nei-ther theoretical nor abstract questions. They emerge from the concrete experience of striving to grow in holiness and wholeness. These quan-daries frame the struggle to love as Jesus commanded. An effective spirituality today must strengthen the individual's com-mitment to the ongoing process of sanctification and maturation. It must 503 ~i04/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 do this by reminding us that God is always close by with divine love and power to help us in our struggles. As followers of the risen Christ, we are called to believe that "the power.by which life is sustained and in-vited toward wholeness is no human creation and abides and remains steadfast even in a world where death does have dominion over every individual." ~ As in other human journeys, we reach the destination of our spiri-tual pilgrimage only gradually. However, there is a paradoxical nature to the spiritual sojourn. While alive, we will never fully reach our goal of union with God and others. Yet, being on the spiritual path is already a way of attaining that end. God is to be enjoyed not only at the end of the search, .but all along the way. The Christmas story of the magi illus-trates this truth. God was present to them not only when they joyfully arrived at the cave in Bethlehem, but also in the original stirrings that sent them off in search of the promised Messiah. God's presence was also experienced in a guiding star that directed them through dark nights and in a dream that warned them of Herod's threat. They experienced God's support, too, in the encouragement they gave each other through-out an uncharted search that took them miles from home. God is more present to us than we think. Our search for union with God is life-long, often a strenuous trek punctuated by dark passages. If we are to persevere, we must take cour-age in God's abiding presence all along the way. Even as we are travel-ing towards God as destiny, Emmanuel is already with us in manifold ways. The disciples of Jesus were once given a dramatic lesson about how Christ is ever-present. One day they were crossing the Lake of Gali-lee when a fierce storm enveloped their little boat. Frightened by vio-lent winds, the apostles were stricken with panic. Suddenly, Jesus ap-peared to them walking on the water. He told them, "It is I. Do not be afraid" (Jn 6:21). Jesus then calmed the storm, and the boat quickly came to shore. The significance of Jesus' words is clear when we look at the original text. The Greek has Jesus saying "ego eimi" which liter-ally means "I am." In the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament, the phrase "ego eimi" is used as a surrogate for the divine name (Ex 3:14). It is Yahweh's response to Moses' question, "Who shall I say sent me?" In placing these words in Jesus' mouth, John ex-p~' esses the early Church's belief in the divinity of Christ. The good news affirmed in this Johannine passage is identical to that contained in Mat-thew's story of the magi: God is always with us in our journeys through life. This truth must permeate our consciousness, especially when our Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 505 fragile boat is rocked by waves of worry and troublesome torrents. In our fear and confusion, we need to recognize the presence of the risen Jesus drawing near to us to still the storm. Calm will descend on us when we hear Jesus say, "Do not be afraid. It is I." Letting Go of Flawless Images ~The journey metaphor most accurately reflects reality when it is seen as a zigzag pattern i'ather than as an uninterrupted straight line. Human growth is not a process that moves relentlessly ahead in a single direc-tion. It, rather, is a mixture of progressions and regressions. At times, we experience forward movements; on other occasions, slips indicate re-gress; and sometimes, no matter how much effort we expend, we find ourselves at a standstill, seemingly stuck at a developmental plateau. Is this wrong? To the contrary. Accepting the jerky aspect of growth and relinquishing the illusion of a forever smooth-flowing journey is not only necessary but will bring serenity to our striving for maturity. Failures should not produce despair; temporary plateaus need not trigger paraly-sis. The expectation of a flawless journey is counterproductive because it misrepresents the process of developmenta~l growth. It also distorts the truth of what it means to be a human being. A view of the human person which does not acknowledge that sinfulness casts a shadow on every person is unrealistic. Such a notion can also have harmful effects. Our sinful condition renders us radically weak. In an iron'ic way, not to admit to our weakened capacity leads us to a sense of perversity and guilt rather than worthiness and self-acceptance. The refusal "to recognize the persistent ambiguity and the final impotence of our lives tantalizes us with an optimistic promise of self-evolved be-coming," concli~des theologian LeRoy Aden. It also "stands in danger of giving us a sense of failure and despair to the extent that we do not achieve it. ,.,2 Thus, failure to acknowledge the shadow aspect of human personality, diminishes, not enhances, self-esteem. Aden elaborates on the harmful effects of a naively optimistic view of human development in the context of a critique of Carl Rogers, the father of client-centered therapy and a major influence in the field of pas-toral counseling. Aden objects to a basic hypothesis of client-centered therapy: the belief that persons have within themselves the ongoing ca-pacity to reorganize their lives in the direction of maturity and fulfill-ment if the proper psychological climate is present. Concretely,. this hy-pothesis presupposes that if the counselor communicates empathy, warmth, acceptance, and genuineness, a client wil~ naturally begin to manifest behavior that enhances the true self. According to Aden, "Ro- 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 gers' faith in the individual's ability to choose the good is absolute. He entertains no qualifications. He allows no doubts.In fact, therapists who begin to question the hypothesis and who shift to another mode of inter-action only confuse the client and defeat their own purpose."3 Roger~ clung tenaciously to his belief in the individual's absolute ca-pacity for constructive and enhancing behavior. Aden recounts an inci-dent in Rogers' life in which he nearly destroyed his own psychic health by maintaining at all cost this article of faith. Rogers once dealt with a very disturbed woman who continually demanded more of him--more time, more warmth, more realness. Although he began to doubt his own adequacy and to lose the boundaries between himself and the client, Ro-gers was very reluctant to let go. Finally, when he realized that he was on the edge of a personal breakdown,he swiftly referred the client to a psychiatric colleague and left town for an extended period. He eventu-ally sought therapy to overcome feelings of complete inadequacy as a therapist and deep worthlessness as a person. According to Aden, this "event shows that Rogers would doubt him-self as a therapist and as a person before he would question his basic faith in the individual.''4 Rogers had provided his disturbed client ~,ith un-derstanding and acceptance over an extended period of time. Neverthe-less, she got progressively more dependent and sicker, bordering on psy-chosis. Her behavior explicitly challenged the very foundation of his the-ory. Thus, it was easier for him to doubt his own worth as a clinician than to reexamine the linchpin of his therapeutic creed. Belief in the in-dividual's indomitable capacity for ongoing growth and actualization had to be maintained at all cost. Forgiveness: The End Point of Life Carl Rogers has made many contributions to pastoral counseling, but his trust in the absolute ability of individuals to grow continually toward fulfillment is a harmful assumption for Christians. It contradicts Christi-anity's deepest insight into the human person as radically good, yet bur-dened by sinfulness. This sinful condition impedes our struggle for growth in holiness and maturity~ It often leads to imperfect fulfillment. Unlike the contemporary tendency to absolutize fulfillment as the basic truth and the final goal of human existence, Christian faith reiterates the good news proclaimed by Christ: forgiveness is the endpoint of human life. Thus faulty fulfillment and incomplete development need not worry those who trust in the forgiving love of God. In thelend, we will fully enjoy the unconditional acceptance of God, not because we are flawless, Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 507 but in spite of our imperfections. Our merciful God's gift of forgiveness means that we "cannot and need not measure up to any conditions of worth."5 When forgiveness, and not fulfillment, is seen as the endpoint of our lives, we can live with greater acceptance of our weaknesses and with greater hope in God's power to complete what grace has started. No longer will the ambiguity of our fulfillment judge us, nor the impo-tence of our efforts condemn us. With St. Paul, we are "quite certain that the One who began this good work" in us "will see that it is fin-ished when the Day of Christ Jesus comes" (Ph 1:6). As Aden states beau-tifully., the promise of ultimate forgiveness "allows us to be incomplete and yet complete, estranged and yet related, distorted and yet fulfilled." When our journey reaches its termination, we will be wrapped in God's merciful arms, like the prodigal son. Because "you are forgiven" will be the final words we will hear, we are freed from the compulsive need to actualize perfectly our human potential and are released from the guilt that accompanies falling short of that goal. "Success and failure are accidental," writes one spiritual writer. "The'joy of the Christian is never based on . . . success but on the knowledge that (one's) Redeemer lives."6 Thus, the author encour-ages us to learn to li~,e peacefully to the end of our life with a certain imperfecti6n: The Lord will never ask how successful we were in overcoming a par-ticular vice, sin, or imperfection. He will ask us, "Did you humbly and patiently accept this mystery of iniquity in your life? How did you deal with it? Did you learn from it to be patient and humble? Did it teach you to trust not your own ability but my love? Did it enable you to under-stand better the mystery of iniquity in the lives of others?' ,7 Our lack of perfection will never separate us from God because the Lord's forgiveness is always perfect and total. What to Do Until the Messiah Comes Until that day of Christ Jesus, when we will receive "the perfec-tion that comes through faith in Christ and is from God," we are called to strive for the goal without ceasing (Ph 3: 9-10). We are to imitate St. Paul in his deep yearning "to have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:9). We have not yet won, but are still running, trying to capture the prize for which Jesus captured us. We too must forget the past and strain ahead for what is still to come. We must, in Paul's words, race "for the finish, for the prize to which God calls us upward to receive in Christ Jesus" (Ph 3: 14). Review for Religious, July-August 1989 Paul's expression of the Christian goal is beautifully poetic. We must look to a contemporary spirituality, however, to translate it into real-life terms. As a guide to Christian living, a spirituality' must spell out the prac-tical dimensions of that vision. It should keep the Gospel ideals eve~r be-fore the Christian sojourner. These ideals are meant to help Christians finish the spiritu~.l race and to receive a place in Christ. They can be use-ful in our spiritual odyssey. Like the stars, they may never be reached; but they are useful to steer our lives by. Ideals can hinder us, however, and discourage us from trying when the fear of performing poorly para-lyzes us. The French saying, "The best is the enemy of the good," il-lustrates this attitude of fearfulness. Ideals impede our spiritual progress when we use them as an excuse for mediocrity, thinking to ourselves: "Christian holiness is something for saintly people, not ordinary folks like us. ". Furthermore, ideals are injurious when they lure us into think-ing that we can earn God's approval by doing everything perfectJy. Paul refers to this as seeking a perfection that comes from the Law rather than from faithin Jesus (Ph 3:9). When striving for holine~ ss deceives us int6 thinking that we can stand in pharisaical judgment over others, we have been seduced by pride. Finally, ideals are harmful when they lead to cyni-cism and disillusionment. That no one fully lives up to espoused values should not undermine the importance of having high aspirations. The fail-ure of sincere efforts should not disillusion us, but the apathy of not try-ing should appall us. Dreaming is not the same as doing. Ideals should inspire us to act, not merely to dream. Thoughts of what could be tomorrow should lead us to do what we can today. When lofty aspirations lead to romantic pre-occupation rather than realistic pursuits, they retard our spiritual devel-opment. In a letter to a friend, C. S. Lewis makes this point nicely: We read of spiritual efforts, and our imagination makes us believe that, because we enjoy the idea of doing them, we have done them. I am ap-palled to see how much of the change which I thought I had undergone lately was on!y imaginary. The real workseems still to be done. It is so fatally easy to confuse an aesthetic appreciation of the spiritual life with the life itself--to dream that you have waked, washed, and dressed and then to find yourself still in bed.8 No matter how grand our ideals, they can only be achieved through small but steady steps. As the Chinese sage Lao Tze stated centuries ago, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." We must bear this wise saying in mind as we let the star of idealism lead us, as with the magi, incompanionship to the Messiah. Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 509 Activity and Passivity in Spiritual Striving Striving for spiritual maturity is paradoxical. It requires us to be si-multaneously active and passive. We are called to exert our efforts and use our God-given talents to develop ourselves. And, at the same time, we must remember that our efforts alone can never bring us to holiness and wholeness; only God's grace can effect our transformation into Christ. While we ultimately cannot save ourselves, we must neverthe-less cooperate with divine grace. We must dispose ourselves to be re-ceptive to the sanctifying action of God's touch. In our spiritual journey we have to negotiate a delicate passage between the Scylla of presump-tion and the Charybdis of despair. Presumption, according.to St. Tho-mas Aquinas, is "an unwarranted dependence upofi God."9 It is the at-titude that God will do it all and that our efforts are not important. Fos-tering irresponsible inaction, it keeps us from doing our part. Despair, on the other hand, is losing hope in God's saving power. It stems from an exclusive reliance on our efforts, without any trust in God's power to make up for Qur human limitations. It results from thinking that eve-rything depends on us alone. Only ongoing discernment can help us main-tain the right balance in our spirituality between personal effort and trust-ing reliance on God. Both dynamics are encouraged by Scripture. Many New. Testament passages attest to the need to rely on God's power in order to bear spiritual fruit in our lives. A beautiful expression of this is the Johannine image of God as the vinedresser. Jesus is the vine and we are the branches. The Father prunes us so that we might bear fruit (Jn 15: I-2). Spiritual growth is passive in the sense that purification and progress are the direct results of God's action upon us. The evangelist Mark reinforces the centrality of God's action in his parable about the seed growing by itself. This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man throws seed on the land. Night and day, while he sleeps, when he is awake, the seed is sprouting and growing; how, he does not know. Of its own accord the land pro-duces first the shoot, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. And when the crop is ready, he loses no time; he starts to reap because the harvest has come (Mk 4:26-29). Notice that the farmer's work is described with a minimum of words. The emphasis falls on the mysterious process of growth. Just as the earth produces fruit spontaneously, so God's reign comes by divine power alone. Once the seed is planted, the result is as sure, as dependable, and as silent as the forces of nature. Stage by stage--first the green shoot, then the spike of corn, and then the full grain in the ear--the seed of S10 /Review for Religious, July-August 1989 God's reign grows to harvest in a way that the farmer does not under-stand. This parable reminds us that nature (God's creation) contains a power which humans do not make or~direct. Similarly, God's grace will bring about conversion and growth in us in ways we may not understand. In human lives, the Spirit of Jesus is the divine power that brings God's kingdom from seed to harvest. When we remember that God's 'work-ing in us,.can do more than we can ask or imagine' (Ep 3:20), we will be protected from the pride and anxiety that stem from the myth of total self-sufficiency. But Scripture also stresses the importance of human effort. Luke's gospel strongly urges followers of Christ to translate words into action. "Why do you call me Lord, Lord," asks Jesus, "and not do what I say?" (Lk 6:46). Everyone who comes to me and listens to my words and acts on them ¯ . . is like the man who when he built his house dug, and dug deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man who built his house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it col-lapsed; and what a ruin that house became! (Lk 6:47-49). Jesus not only challenges us to practice his teachings, but also warns that our very hearing of his word must be done with care. In the parable of the sower and the seed, he describes the fragility ofthe seed of God's word. If it is not received by the right soil, it will not take root and grow. Grains that fall on the edge of the path represent people who have heard the word of God, but have it stolen from their hearts by the forces of evil. Seeds that fall on rock are like people who receive the word in a superfi-cial way, and give up in time of trial. Those that fall in the midst of thorns are Christians who let worries, riches, and pleasures of life choke their growth, preventing it from reaching maturity. Grains that fall in the rich soil signify those of generous hearts who have let the word take deep roots in themselves and have yielded a harvest through their persever-anc. e (Lk 8:11-15). Emphasizing the importance of human effort in dis-posing the soil of the inner self for receiving the word, Jesus concludes with a warning: "So take care how you hear" (Lk 8: 18). While Mark's parable of the seed growing by itself stresses the power of God actively bringing about growth, Luke's parable emphasizes the necessity of en-ergetic human cooperation. Another Lukan parable about a fruitless fig tree highlights the im-portance of personal effort. When its owner realized that his tree had Striving for Spiritual Maturity been barren for three years, he ordered his gardener to remove it. In-stead, the caretaker pleaded, "Sir, leave it one more year and give me time to dig round it and manure it: it may bear fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down" (Lk 13:8-9). We too are called to actively tend the seed of God's word so that it can take deep roots in our souls and can bear fruit for the world. A classical biblical text used to illustrate the need for docility to God's formative action in our lives is Jeremiah's visit to the potter. Watch-ing the artisan working at his wheel, the prophet noticed that he contin-ued to shape and reshape the clay until he created what he was envision-ing. Then the word of Yahweh came to Jeremiah as follows: "House of Israel, can I not do to you what this potter does?. Yes, like clay in the potter's hand, so you are in mine, House of Israel" (Jr 18:1-6). While the image of the human person as clay being shaped by the divine Potter testifies beautifully to God's active involvement in our spiritual development, it should not be used to justify excessive passivity or in-fantile irresponsibility. While trying to be malleable to the fashioning in-fluence of God, Christians are called to take adult responsibility for their growth. This means taking active means to deepen one's love for God and neighbor. Activity and passivity must coexist in dynamic tension, if we are to remain.spir!tually healthy. In describing her Jeremiah-like visit to a pot-ter at work in Provincetown, situated at the tip of Cape Cod, a recent writer shed light on the active-passive dimension of spiritual formation. The observer discovered that the artist,, a woman-of more than seventy years, was a wise person as well as a potter. After conveying her belief in the direct relationship between the pliability of the clay and its strength, the artisan added, almost as an aside, "If you can't bend a lit-tle and give some, life will eventually break you. It's just the way it is, you know." ~0 The visitor noticed that the potter worked with both hands: one placed inside, applying pressure on the clay; the other on the out-side of the gradually forming pot,. Too much pressure from the outside would cause the pot to collapse, while too much pressure from the in-side would make the pot bulge outward. The old potter spoke wisely about life: Life, like the pot I am turning, is shaped by two sets of opposing forces ¯ . . Sadness and death and misfortune and the love of friends and all the things that happened to m~ that I didn't even choose. All of that in-fluenced my life. But there are things I believe in about myself, my faith in God, and the love of some friends that worked on the insides of me. ~ 512 / Review for Religious,. July-August 1989 Like Jeremiah, this modern day potter sheds light on the Lord's ways of dealing with us. The Lord who calls us to be holy is also the One who forms us into the image of Jesus, the living icon, of God. This divine Art-ist works on us with two hands: one shaping us from the inside and an-other molding us from the outside. Like the clay pot, we need to be mal- . leable. And, paradoxically, our pliability will give us strength to per-severe ac~tively in the process. Knowing how to bend a little will keep us from breaking. Experience as Manure in the Spiritual Field In the spiritual project of transformation into Christ, effort is what counts, not unremitting success. Acclaiming the value of practice in spiri-tual growth, the Eastern guru Chogyam Trungpa speaks of the "manure of experience and the field of bohdi." ~-~ Bohdi represents the search for enlightenment. If we are skilled and p~tient enough to sift through our experiences and study them thoroughly, we can use them to aid our en-lightenment. Our experiences, 'our mistakes, and even our failures func-tion like fertilizer. According to Trungpa, to deny or cover up our errors is a waste of experience. When we do not scrutinize our failures for the lessons they contain, we miss an opportunity. What appears to be use-less trash contains potential .nutrients for life. But, to convert our defi-ciencies into positive value, we need to pile them on a compost heap, not sweep them behind a bush. Hiding failure is to store it like rubbish. "And if you store it like that," the guru remarks, "you would not have enough manure to raise a crop from the wonderful field of bodhi.''~3 In a parallel way, experience can be said to be manure in the field of Christian development. Like manure, past experiences must be plowed into the ground to enrich the inner soil of the self, making it more re-ceptive to. the see.d of God's word. Then, we will reap an abundant har-vest base~l on our perseverance. Mistakes need not ruin our spiritual jour-ney, if we learn from them. Even saints like Augustine of Hippo and Ig-natius of Loyola learned how not to make mistakes by making many. The Lord who desires our holiness can bring good out of everything, can work in any and all of our experiences to transform us. In our fragmen-tation, we rejoice in the power of God to bring wholeness. If we bring our weakness before the Lord, humbly asking for the help of enabling grace, we can then trust that the Lord will produce an abundant harvest. Spiritual Growth Through Trial and Error The ideals of Christian spirituality cannot be achieved without im-mersing ourselves in the messiness of nitty-gritty experience. Learning Striving for Spiritual Maturity how to love God and others in an integrated way comes only through daily practice. The way of trial and error, not book learning alone, will teach us how to fashion a dynamic and balanced life in which there is room for solitude and community, ministry and leisure, autonomy and intimacy, personal transformation and social reform, prayer and play. Striking the right balance is a highly personal matter. No one can attain it for us; we must discover it ourselves through personal experience. As theologian John Dunne states, "Only one who has tried the extremes can find this personal mean., on the other hand, trying the extremes will not necessarily lead to finding the mean. Only the [person] who perceives the shortcomings of.the extremes will find it. 14 Blessings for the Journey Achieving wholeness and holiness requires traversing the difficult ter-rain of real life with all its challenges and crises. Even at the end of a lifetime of effort, we will still need to be completed by the finishin~g touch of the divine Artist. God will .then bring to completion in us the eternal design of persons destined to love wholeheartedly. While await-ing that unifying touch of divine grace, we pilgrims are called to follow the way of Jesus. And the Lord who walks with us assures that we will always be blessed. The blessings sent our way may not always be enjoy-able, but they will always nudge us forward in our efforts to love as God i'ntended. °~ A rabbi was once asked, "What is a blessing?" He prefaced his an-swer with a riddle involving the creation account in chapter one of Gene-sis. The riddle went this way: After finishing his work on each of the first five days, the Bible states, "God saw that it was good." But God is not reported to have commented on the goodness of what was created on the sixth day when the human person was fashioned. "What conclu-sion can you draw from tha~?" asked the rabbi. Someone volunteered, "We can conclude that the human person ~s not good." "Possibly," the rabbi nodded, "but that's not a likely explanation." He then went on to explain that the Hebrew word translated as "good" in Genesis is the word "tov," which is better translated as "complete." That is why, the rabbi contended, God did not declare the human person to be "toy." Human beings are created incomplete. It is our life's vocation to collabo-rate with our Creator in fulfilling the Christ-potential in each of us. As the medieval mystic Meister Eckhart suggested, Christ longs to be born and developed into fullness in each of us.~5 A blessing is anything that enters into the center of our lives and expands our capacity to be filled with Christ's love. Therefore, a blessing may not always be painless, but Review for Religious, July-August 1989 it will always bring spiritual growth. Being blessed does not mean being perfect, but being completed. To be blessed is not to get out of life what we think we want. Rather, itis the assurance that God's purifying grace is active in us, so that our "hidden self (may) grow strong" and "Christ may live in (our) hearts through faith." In this way, we will with all the saints be "filled with the utter fullness of God" (Ep 3:16-19). NOTES I Sam Keen, "Manifesto for a Dionysian Theology," in New Theology No. 7, eds. Martin E. M~irty and Dean G. Peerman (New York: Macmillan, 1970), p. 97. 2 LeRoy Aden, "On Carl Rogers" Becoming,"Theology Today XXXVI:4 (Jan. 1980), p. 558. 3 lbid, p. 557. 4 Ibid. 5 lbid, p. 558. 6 Adrian van Kaam, Religion and Personality (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1980), p. 15. 7 lbid, p. 15. 8 C.S. Lewis, The3, Stand Together: The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves (1914-1963), ed. Walter Hooper (New York: The Macmillan Co., Inc. 1979), p. 361. 9 Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Latin Text and English Translation, Introductions, Notes, Appendices, and GIossaries,~Vol. 33 (Blackfriars, with New York: McGraw-Hill and London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1966), II-II, Q 21, a I, ad 1. ~0 Paula Ripple, Growing Strong at Broken Places (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Ma-ria Press, 1986), p. 68. ~ Ibid, p. 69. ~z Chogyam Trungpa, Meditation in Action (Boston: Shambhala, 1985), p. 26. ~3 Ibid. ~4 John Dunne, The Way of All the Earth (New York: MacMillan Company, 1972), pp. 37-38. ~5 Meister Eckhart once said: "What good is it to me if Mary gave birth to the son of God fourteen hund'r~ed years ago and I do not also give birth to the son of God in my time and in my culture?" As quoted in Matthew Fox, Original Blessing: A Primer in Creation Spirituality (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Bear & Company, 1983), p. 221. The Shifting Order of Religious Life in our Church Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M. Sister Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M., is currently Assistant Professor of Theology at Creighton University. She had served as formation director for the Sisters of Mercy, Province of Omaha from 1977-1982. Her address is Department of Theology; Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. The difficulty of thinking thorough questions about religious life today should not be underestimated. Such reflection is often complicated by the fact that those straining to see and articulate what the shifts in relig-ious orders mean for their future in our Church are often themselves mem-bers Of religious congregations. Thus, the efforts to make sense of vowed living can be blindedoby both self-interests and past~ ways of understand-ing. Th6 blindness feels to me like the fuzzy sight of Mark's blind man who could see people "but they look like trees, walking" (Mk 8:24). It was only after the man "looked intently" that he was able to see ev-erything clearly. This ~article is more an attempt to describe the "tree walking" than to asser(any.de~finitive conclusions. Two circumstances in particular have sparked my own reflections on the changing order of religious life. First, we continue to have members "leaving." They do not leave in the dark of night as they did in the 1950s; rather many stand before us in assembly or community saying that their integrity prevents them from +ontinuing to live the vowed life, but they wish always to remain ""sister" or "brother" to us. Many are not immediately interested in a different lifestructure, for example, marriage, personal wealth, and so forth; rather, they are no longer able to connect celibacy, poverty, and obedience to any understanding of their life. Secondly, those within religious communities primarily vested with 515 516 / Review for Religious~ July-August 1989 the role of discerning vocations and incorporating new members are no longer called the "formation-vocation" team. They are now referred to as the "membership team." Some of these new membership teams are made up of non-vowed associates of the community~ as well as vowed members. The job description of these teams is unclear even though it includes the discernment of vocation and the incorporation of new mem-bers because vocation and membership have taken on new meanings. Vo-cation is not necessary to the "vowed" life and membership does not necessitate professing the vows. The new terminology and the alteration in the constitution of the teams are profound symbols of a "changing order." These two realities--members continuing to remain attached to con-gregations even though they "leave" and the development of "mem-bership teams"--can allow for i~ew insight into how, with decreasing numbers,,religious orders will continue the legacy of their foun~lresses or founders, women and men whose gifts have been confirmed as a vivi-fying influence in the Church and the world.2 These gifts or charisms are the animating characteristics for the style of life, witness, and apostolic action within the congregations. Membership within a congregation has meant at its most basic level that a person'believes he or she is called to re-offer the charis~m of the founder to the contemporary world. This offering is buttressed by the belief that the gifts of the founder or foun-dress are not time-bound and will continueto contribute to a further ap-proximation of the reign of God in history. Thus the Sisters of Merc~y (the "order" to which I belong) present the foundation for their exis-tence as the desire to continue the story of a nineteenth-century Irish woman, Catherine McAuley, in theChurch and in the world. This par-ticular goal is expressed by tfieir fourtti vow of gervice and through the wording of their present Constituiions which point to the ideals of their congregation as well as the way they presently understand their congre-gation and words the way they presently understand th6ir mission as a community within the Church. By the vow of service we commit ourselves to exercise the spiritual and corporal works of mercy revealed to us through~ t~,h.e life of Jesus. En-riched by his love, healed by his mercy and0taught by his word we serve the poor, sick, and ignorant. To celebrate our corporate word in a discordant society requires the courage of a deep'faith and interior joy. We believe that God is faithful and that our struggle to follow Christ will extend God's reign of love over human hearts. We rejoice in the continued invitation to seek jus- The Shifting Order of Religious Life tice, to be compassionate, and to reflect mercy to the world.3 The thesis of this article is simply that the clues for how to continue the legacy of a particular founder or foundress will be found by looking intently at how the tradition of the founder or foundress continues to be lived, seeking to confirm all those ~'ho focus their discipleship of Christ through the prism of his or her life and legacy. In order to amplify this thesis, I will discuss eight understandings that result from an attempt to "look intently," and then present several ideas intended to help the "re-ordering" of religious communities. But, first, one caveat is necessary. No matter how blind men and women religious feel as they grope toward an understanding of their .lives, they must trust that they faithfully embody the tradition of the par-ticular foundress.or founder. When I was in formation work in the 1970s, I was fond of telling the newer .members that the Sisters of Mercy were made up of the names in the current directory and the names on the tomb-stones in our cemeteries. This was the most concrete way of describing what they were getting into~companionship with persons who were char-acterized by a variety of shapes, sizes, quirks, personalities, sickness, gifts, skills, weaknesses, ideas, and so forth--but with one thing in com-mon: they all believed they were called to focus their discipleship through the story of Catherine McAuley. It seemed essential that each member act toward the other with the belief that each sister was a part of this tradition and that all were searching for what was necessitated by the call to appropriately renew the story (or tradition) in the light of the sources of Christian life, the original inspiration behind the community and the changed condition of the times.'* At that time I was pointing the novices toward the vowed members of the group, the Sisters. Now the names in our directory include asso-ciate, that is non-vowed, members who have made a contract with us in which we promise our support for their attempts to live the tradition of Catherine McAuley and they promise specific ways in which they will contribute to the offering of Catherine's gifts to the Body of Christ. There-fore, wl~ether we be Sister JaneSmith, R.S.M. or Jane Smith, Associ-ate of the Sisters of Mercy, we must believe in and support one another as we seek to embody the tradition of our foundress. Each of us brings only a part of the story, thus each person who focuses his or her disci-pleship through the same tradition helps focus the present and the future "order" of one's specific congregation. Part I The following are my understandings of religious life today: I ) Men and women in religious orders are disciples of Jesus. We be- 511~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 long to a pilgrim people searching for the reign of God. We are blinded by sin and limitation as we seek to discover the ways of our God as re-vealed through Jesus. We learn how to follow Jesus in our times and in our circumstances. The primary mode of ou'r learning is experiential. It is complex and it calls us to struggle with our daily realities to see anew w,hat patterns in 6ur lives need conversion. The greatest threat to our dis-cipleship is to think that we have learned enough or to reduce the reign of God to the glimpses of glory which we see in our own time. Liberation theology is probably the clearest indication to today's Church that it is still on pilgrimage. Begun with Moses' vision of a God who had heard the crying out of the Israelite slaves, reiterated in Han-nah's canticle that praises God as one who will raise up the lowly, and reborn in the 1970s through the efforts of those struggling to see God and understand God's ways from the experience of twentieth-century op-pression, this theology reminds us as a Church that we are still learning not only how, but where to find Jesus.5 2) Members of religious orders are those who are disciples of a par-ticular charismatic leader recognized by our Church. Recognizing that our stories do not belong to the time and culture of the founder or foun-dress, the charisms of these characters and their companions are a way of expressing discipleship in Christ. To be members ofa religious con-gregation~ is to take one way of interpreting discipleship of Jesus, namely the life of a founder or foundress, as a way to focus discipleship. Again, congregational members are disciples of this way of focusing, that is, there is no profession, ministry, office, or role, no direct service or in-stitutionalized ,ministry, that exempts members frorri continually learn-ing what it means to pattern their lives or focus their discipleship of Je-sus through the prism of this great man or woman. All of our lives are mystery, not in the sense that they defy explana-tion, but in Gabriel Marcel's sense that the more we are involved in them, the more inseparable we become from their depth.6 Our Church has confirmed the legacy of some men and women as mysterious, that is, there is within these persons a depth of discipleship that calls and be-comes involving for others. Nano Nagle, Francis of Assisi, Ignatius of Loyola, Elizabeth Seton, Angela Merici, and Catherine McAuley are some of these people. Their gift to the Church is mysterious to us, and that is why they can properly have disciples. The more their lives, their stories are considered, the more insight we gain into what it might mean to be a disciple of Christ in our time. Thus, many religious congregations acknowledged with Vatican II The Shifting Order of Religious Life that reflection on what it meant to follow Christ and to plead the radical nature of the Gospel through the focus on their particular founder or foun-dress meant that they must be learners of new ways. The call for renewal necessitated a refounding and a reordering of these congregations that con-tinues into the present.7 This challenge reminds many in a very profound way that they are indeed learners. 3) We are co-dikciples. There can be no doubt about this. Baptism incorporates us into a community of disciples. As members of religious communities, we are co-disciples, learners with the other clergy and la-ity. Appropriating Gospel values and finding patterns of life that typify holiness are calls received by all within the Christian community, whether they be married, single, or vowed. The sixth-century understand-ing of Pseudo-Dionysius who envisioned the grace of God as descend-ing through three hierarchical angelic choirs into two earthly hierarchies of clergy and laity respectively was normative until Lumen Gentium's statement that "in the Church, everyone . . . is called to holi-ness . ,,8 No longer do lay folk stand below those ~who profess the evangelical counsels nor do the latter stand below those who are ordained to the priesthood in the Church. Paul VI reiterated the Vatican Council's hierarchy-shattering words when he said that the whole Church received the mission of Jesus--"the community of believers, the community of hope lived and communicated, the community of love. ,,9 The consideration of volunteers, partners, and associates who claim the life and charism of a founder or foundress of a religious order in our Church as their way of focusing discipleship reminds us that we are co-disciples. These new relationships can intimidate as well as inspire and so we must continually remind ourselves of John Paul ll's challenge to the whole Church to embrace mercy. In Dives in Misericordia, he de-fined Christian mercy as "the most perfect incarnation of "equality" between people., love and mercy bring it about that people meet one another in that value which is the human person., thus mercy becomes an indispensable element for shaping mutual relationships between peo-ple, in a spirit of deepest respect for what is human . ,,~0 4) As members of apostolic congregations, ministry is our reason for existence. A common life and the vows have constituted the order of re-ligious life, but the purpose of this order for apostolic communities has always been service. Many founders and foundresses wrote words simi-lar to those of Catherine McAuley, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, when describing the qualifications for an aspirant to apostolic groups. Catherine stre'ssed "an ardent desire to be united to God and to serve 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 the poor" and a "particular interest" in helping the sick and dying. ~ The rereading of the history of apostolic orders, which was occasioned by the cali of Vatican II to renew, led many congregational members to realize that "order" or common patterns in the style and structure of the lives of men and women who focused their discipleship through the charism of a particular founder, is negotiable, but the reason for the or-der is not. This should help women and men religious to open themselves and their ownership of the legacy of their founder or foundress to those who do not "order" their lives in the same way. If the purpose of the order is service,or ministry, then should those who do not profess the evangelical counsels be excluded? This can be a very challenging ques-tion, because throughout history the only way to claim concretely many of these charisms or legacies was to order one's life through the evan-gelical counsels of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. But, as Dorothy noted in the Wizard of Oz, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore." Men and wom'en who do not profess these vows are desiring both to minister after the fashion of these great men and women and to receive the sup-port of congregations dedicated to these legacies without maintaining a common living style or divesting themselves of marriage possibilities or ownership of property. 5) It is not order, but mission that describes our lives. John O'Mal-ley, S.J. claims that the history of apostolic religious orders might more properly belong to the history of ministry than to the history of institu-tionalized asceti~cism. ~2 Groups that banded together for the sake of serv-ice presented a whole new trajectory within our Church, as they were a break from the ascetical tradition. However, the Church in its concern to regulate these groups modeled their "order" on the flight of Anthony into the desert in 275 A.D. Many of the great women foundresses, in par-ticular, found their desire to gather others for the sake of service to a par-ticular need frustrated by an order of enclosure, profession of vows, and obedience to an ecclesiastical superior. ~3 For example, the Sisters of Mercy often reflect on the history of Cath-erine McAuley whose companionship with other women grew around their mutual attention to the poor in early nineteenth-century Dublin. In-dependently wealthy, she commissioned the building of a "House of Mercy'r in which women could gather to devote themselves to the relief of suffering and the instruction of the ignorant. She resisted and ex-pressed discomfort about the "order" of the lives of those in congrega-tions of nuns, to the point of abhorring the thought of spending time in the Presentation novitiate to learn the ways of an established canonical The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 591 institute into the Church. However she submitted to the "ordering" be-cause without it her mission would have failed. ~4 The time in which she lived demanded that women engaged in companionship for the salve of service be organized as vowed religious women. Among many active congregations of religious in the United States, especially congregati.ons of women, the question of whether or not to re5 main canonical has arisen. This question is motivated primarily by the difficulty involved in gaining the Congregation for Religious and Secu-lar Institute's (CRIS) approbation for Constitutions and the reordering of "religious" life so that it more properly aids in fulfilling the particular mission of the group. ~5 The question, however, is not whether religious congregations will choose to remain canonical, that is, of some standard within our Church; the question is how their "order" will be specified within the Church,-that is, how will they organize themselves as women arid men embodying the charisms of great founders or foundresses within the Church. Ignoring for a moment the enormous difficulties of dealing with a bureaucratic power structure that often seems less than open to anything irregular, let us look at the question before us. Can we, as disciples of the great founders and foundresses in our Church, make a distinction be-tween vocation to a particular lifestyle or life structure (that is, marriage vows/the choice of single life/vows of poverty, celibacy, obedience) and the vocation to a particular charism and mission within the Church (a deep identity with the spirit and gifts of a particular person who focuses our discipleship of Jesus)? I think that the movements of associate membership, volunteers, part-nership (all of which imply non-vowed varying degrees of membership in religious "orders"), mighi be a tremendously important break within the history of what have come to be called "active orders" in our Church, but these movements will further our ability as a Church to do ministry as baptized disciples of Jesus. 6) One of the most pressing questions for: religious congregations is what life structure or "order of life"facilitates discipleship of Jesus focused through the mission of their founder or foundress. The current documentation abou( the life structure of those called to follow a foun-der or foundress organizes it around the three vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. Both the Vatican II document on religious life and the 1983 Essentials of Religious Life promulgated by the Vatican Congrega-tion for Religious and for Secular Institutes present the evangelical coun-sels as not only "essential," but also as the basis for the organization 522/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 of life for those in religious congregations. However, both Sandra Sch-neiders and John Lozano, show effectively in their recent and widely read treatments of religious life that the vows cannot be taken as impor-tant in themselves. 16 The vows, if taken at all, need to be placed in the context'of a statement of desire to,pursue the mission of the community, how we promise to accept the responsibilities of this mission in our lives, and how others dedicated to this mission accept us within their group. Furthermore there is more and more recognition (fueled by the relatively new science of psychology) t.hat intimate, committed relationships to per-sons, ownership, and autonomy do not make one less holy. Along with this, New Testament scholars have shown that these counsels do not flow from the gospels as such, but were constructs of our Church at a later time. And, even without Vatican ll's assertion of.the universal call to holiness, experience tells most of those who are presently members of religious congregations that they are no more holy than thos6 who choose to marry and have children, own property, and center their autonomy dif-ferently. Indeed, if men and women are going to structure their lives by pro-fessing the evangelical coufisels, (thus sacrificing the gifts of sex, own-ership, and autonomy), then these must only be given up for the sake of mission. Johannes Metz is perhaps the most clear and the most chal-lenging on this point. In his Followers o.fChrist: Perspectives on Relig-ious Life, he argues that the vows are both mystical and political. Thus, poverty demands not only a protest against the tyranny of having, pos-sessing, and pure self-assertion; it also impels those practicing it into a practical and situational solidarity with those poor whose poverty is their condition of life and the situation exacted of them by society, rather than a matter of virtue. Celibacy, as a state of being radically seized by a long-ing for the reign of God, impels one toward those unmarried people whose not having anyone is not a virtue but their social destiny, and to-wards those who are shut up in lack of expectation and in resignation. And finally, obedience is the radical and uncalculated surrender to God and it impels one to situate oneself .among those for whom obedience is nota matter of virtue but the sign of oppression and placement in tute-lage.~ 7 It is only in this way that these counsels can ever be real signs of eschatological witness. Metz has called vowed communities "shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the Church as a whole.''~8 Us-ing Metz's ideas, if I read him right, many more of us might call our-selves "associate members" of religious congregations than already do out of integrity. There may be many who want to focus their discipleship The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 593 of Jesus through the legacy of a great founder or foundress, but their ac-commodations to the culture would indicate not that they are lesser dis-c! ples, but rather that the functions they perform and the gifts they bring to the reign of God are not th6se that necessitate or call them to the vowed life. That is, "association" may be more appropriate for those who draw support from the tradition or story of a great founder or foundress and find the mission of that congregation an animating principle for their dis-cipleship. Whereas formal vowed commitment to one another, relinquish-ing of goods and full authoring over one's choice of service might be re-served for those whose discipleship leads them to more radical under-takings. The question here concerns the life-structure (or "order") that has traditionally been associated with claiming followership of a specific mission in our Church. Are there ways to embody the tradition of minis-try defined, by a great founder or foundress in our Church as one group in which some are vowed to poverty, celibacy, and obedience and oth-ers are not? Those who are vowed in the traditional way choose a life-structure which more clearly binds them to the ~reedom to move around and respond to unmet needs among the poor, alone, and oppressed. 19 Those who do not profess the vows but do center their discipleship on the founding charism might be called to a,life-structure which points to-ward a certain stability within a local Church community. One could as-sert that there must be ways to accommodate this diversity because even using the traditional ordering of religious life, which included the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience as part of the package, I would sub-mit that there are some within religious congregations who have the free-dom to live the vows as Metz proscribes and others whose lives point toward and demand a different modi~ of discipleship. That is, the vows may not be absolutely constitutive of focusing one's discipleship through the charism of a great founder or foundress.2° 7) There is a need for enabling ministers who are not constrained by local church boundaries. According to O'Malley, one of the most re-markable characteristics of the development of active orders is that it in effect created a "church order (or several church orders) within the great church order and itdid this for the reality to which ~:hurch order primar-ily looks--ministry."z~ That is, pontifically erected religious orders en-joy a warrant and exemption from the bishop of Rome to act publicly on behalf of the Christian community wherever the needs to which their charism responds arise. This has, throughout history, caused some ju-ridical as well as cultural complications. However, despite difficulties, 524 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 needs have been' attended to that would never have been served if it was necessary to rely only on the personnel within local boundaries. As the order of religious life shifts, this is a very important compo-nent of our history that should not be lost. This "pontifical warrant" for the sake of ministry has allowed for tremendous creativity in meet-ing the needs of the people of God. Glimpses of the reign of God are seen in the histqry Of religious orders who have brought literacy, heal-ing, and economic stability to the uneducated, sick, ahd poor around the world. 8) Finally, men and women in religious orders need to realize the gifts they can sh~are with the Church. The emergence of the laity is very new to our Church, and the long history that religious orders have of do-in~ ministry leaves many' within them unskilled at enabling and serving with others. But vowed men and women need to recognize that one of the gifts they may have is 6ffering those who have taken to heart the mes-sagegf the gospel and the spirit of Vatican II both some encouragement and some means for realizing their call. Many who~desire a more intense following of Christ may find that the sp, iritual, intellectual, and apostolic life in their parishes does not encourage these needs and aspirations. Thus, they only feel frustration in their call to maturity and co-responsibility in the Church. Religious orders ha~,e a wealth of experi-ence in thinking through methods for spiritual development and encour-aging other adults in gro~vth. Many find in religious life rich resources of the heritage of the Church not avail~.ble in local parishes. They find a focus and discipline for spiritual growth, a unifiedvision of the pur-pose of discipleship, .and a structured identity with a family in a living tradition of the Church. The challenge is to share these gifts, without thinking people have to become "mini-religious'"l~o acquire them. An extension of our charisms beyond those in the vowed ranks might mean that many more can become effective ministers in the parish and the Church at large. Part II We should not be surprised that a "new ordering" is difficult for us to think about and may even create controversy, dissention, and fear when we attempt to talk about it with one another. Anything new always brings a death to something within the present. Many of us love our way of ordering our .lives. We have lived the vows and known ourselves and our companions to grow through the experiences they have presented to us. We want to share our-lives, extend them, and see the "ordering" that has facilitated our growth be embraced by others. Yet this "order" The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 525 may have to die so that discipleship focused on the great charismatic lead-ers in our Church might continue. We are challenged to refound our con-gregations. This challenge implies the freedom to consider reordering our lives for the sake of mission. From the above understanding flow the following ideas that may help religious congregations to reorder their membership and to reorder the perception of religious life in the Church. I) We, as those who vowed ourselves to the legacy of great founders and foundresses within the order specified by the Church, must continue to think about what that means. Imitating her tongue-in-cheek, I quote the twentieth-century Jewish philosopher, Hannah Arendt, "what I pro-pose, therefore, is very simple: it is nothing more than to think what we are doing." The thinking, although allegedly simple, is.indeed quite com-plex and we of.ten try to escape it, precisely because we did it once be-fore during the 60s and the 70s. Even though new life was born in our midst, many of us remember the struggle and some among us have not quite recovered. Thifiking usually means that we risk conversation of sub-stance. And conversation of substance usually implies the same kind of controversy as that depicted in the Gospel account of Jesus asking Peter a question of substance. "Who do people say .that I am?" is the query of the man who had just multiplied loaves and then cured a blind one. Peter knew who Jesus was. "You are the Christ." But Peter did not like the implications of the insight. "Get behind me, Satan" is the rebuke heard when Peter tried to squirm out of the new order specified not only for Jesus but also for his own discipleship. Insights gleaned from thinking and from conversation of substance can be threatening. But we must remember that even more threatening is the possibility that some valuable offerings to the further approxima-tion of the reign of God will be lost if we are unwilling to gain and ex-press the insights of our experiences. If our experience is that the vows do not make meaning in our lives, but the charism of our founder does, then perhaps we must search for other ways to order our lives so as to offer more fully the charism of our. community to the Church. And, if our experience is that others who are not vowed can claim the legacy of our founders, (and more importantly if their experience confirms this), then they must be allowed to do so in an equal fashion. 2) We must effect reconciliation and a spirit of interdependence within our Church, especially with persons and groups claiming the same charism. As stated earlier, a tradition specifying that God's grace flowed toward the non-vowed and non-ordained last was reinforced in 596 / Review foUr Religious, July-August 1989 popular piety until the Second Vatican Council. This distanced many re-ligious from other laity and created a perception ihat vows or ordination meant that one was more graced and clos+r to God'. Men and women in religious; congregations must actively pursue reconciliation with other la-ity because, intentionally or non-intentionally, some disunity has been effected within .our Church. We can take a cue from Paul, ambassador of reconciliation, who was .furious with his community at Galatia when they entertained the idea ofclassifying and categorizing the early Chris-tians. In Christ, there is neithe~ Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, women religious nor lay women, Dominican from Mercy, associate member from more traditionally ordered mem-bers . Often former members of religious orders continue to claim the charism of the order as a way of focusing their discipleship. We must reach out to these people and ask them if,. even though they found the "order" of our lives restrictive, they still find themselves drawn to the charism asa focus. We need to confirm the existence and continuance of the charism in these people, and perhaps just as importantly, let them confirm the continuance of the charism in us. A more concrete way of symbolizing our reconciliation and interdependence on one another is a very simple, yet awkward thing. We need to re-form our vocabulary so that "sisters" and "brothers" does not refer to a closed group of vowed women or men. Just as many have committed themselves to the use of gender inclusive language, we need to change the language specific to our communities, so that "sisters and brothers" becomes a way to refer to all, vowed and non-vowed, who find themselves bound to the same charism. 3) Within our working places, we must announce what inspires us. We must claim our founder or foundress as inspirations, as stories that aid our belief in and discipleship of the Christ. Many people look for a way to focus and sustain their belief, and there appear to be few heroes of a depth able to sustain followers in our contemporary life. Since many of us have been inspired by and nurtured in the founding spirit of a great man or woman disciple of Christ, we must share the gift. We must let others know what moves us, inspires us, and keeps us going as disciples in a world where the odds against the fullness of God's reign dawning seem to be mounting. Perhaps we need ways to be again inspired and again encouraged in our own focus before we will feel enthusiastic enough to inspire others. In many cases, our associates are formally rethinking and reaffirming The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 527 their commitments each year. They renew their covenant with the leg-acy of the community, and they reconsider and recommit themselves to their association with others who share the same focus. Might we not learn from them something about animating our own commitments by using this model? Let us not merely resurrect the passivity of receiving an appointment card with our job and the provincial's name on it, even though there was important symbolism there. Let us every year rework and represent our covenant with the legacy of our founder or foundress. Let us reconsider and recommit ourselves to the implications of disci-pleship and association with others who share the same mission. These understandings and recommendation are initial forays into a very difficult, yet timely, topic. They are intended to spark further thought and discussion. Although I doubt there is danger of them being considered a "last word," let me close with a few lines from T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets. They reflect, 1 think, what it means to see trees walking, to be fuzzy in our sight, and what it means to face this period of time as religious men and women in our Church. These are only hints and guesses Hints, followed by guesses, and the rest Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought, and action. The hint half guessed, the gift half understood is Incarnation. Here the impossible union of spheres of existence is actual, Here the past and future Are conquered, and reconciled . -~-~ NOTES ~ An associate member is defined for the purposes of this article as one who wants to share in the life and apostolate of a religious institute and to become a member to a certain extent. "They are members associated and not incorporated by profes-sion. For a discussion of the variety of such groups and their notation in the new code of Canon Law, see Elio Gambari, Religious Life According to Vatican II and the New Code of Canon Law, (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1986), pp. 625-635. Also, David F. O'Connor, "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practi-cal Considerations," REview For~ REt.~;~ous 44, 2(March-April, 1985), pp. 256-267. 2 How to continue the legacy of the founder or foundress or how to continue the mis-sion of the congregation is understood to be the underlying concern of those who e.xpress dismay of the declining numbers in religious congregations. 3 Sisters of Mercy of the Union, Constitutions (Silver Spring, Maryland, 1986), nos. 29-30. Most active congregations use wording similar to this to describe their mis-sion. 521~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 4 This describes the call to religious men and women from the Second Vatican Coun-cil, See Perfectae Caritatis, the "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Relig-ious Life," no. 2 in Walter Abbott (ed.), The Documents~ of Vatican !I (The Amer-ica Press, 1966)." " 5 For a concise description of liberation theology by two of its most challenging pro-ponents, see Leonardo and Clodovis Boff, Introducing Liberation Theology (Ma-ryknoll: Orbis Press, 1987). 6 See his Being and Having, (New York: Harper Torchbook edition, 1965), p. I 17, 145. 7 For some initial strategies presented to and used widely in the early 1980s by men and wom,en religious struggling with the call to '~refound," see Lawrence Cada et al, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, (New York: Seabury Press, 1979). s "The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church," in Abbott, no. 39. 9 Evangelii Nuntiandi, "On Evangelization in the Modern World (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1976). no. 15. ~0 "Rich in Mercy," (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference,. 1981), no. 14. ~ 1836 letter to a parish priest in Nass, Ireland, Quoted in Kathleen O'Brien's Jour-neys: A Preamalgamation History of the Sisters of Mercy, Omaha, Province (Omaha, Nebraska: Sisters of Mercy,1987), 6. ~20'Malley conceives of "active orders" as a '~critically important phenomenon in the history of ministry claiming "apostolic" inspiration," rather than as the insti-tutional embodiment of an ascetical tradition traced back to Pachomius. See -Priest-hood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Some Historical and Historiographical Consid-erations," in Theological Studies, 49 (1988), p. 227. ~3 The sweeping 1298 decree of Boniface VIII (repeated by Pius V in 1566) com-manded that "all nuns, collectively and individually, present and to come, of what-soever order of religion, in whatever part of the world they may be, shall henceforth remain in their monasteries in perpetual enclosure." Insight into the unfortunate ef-fect of this decree throughout the centuries following on women's attempts to or-gaoize associations for ministry can be gleaned from reading histories of women foun-dresses, such as Angela Merici, Nano Nagle, Mary Ward, and Louise de Marillac. ~'~ For more information about Catherine McAuley, see Sr. M. lgnatia Neumann, R.S.M., ed., Letters of Catherine McAuley (Baltimore: Helicon Press Inc., 1969) and M. Joanna Regan, R.S.M., Tender Courage: A Reflection on the Life and Spirit of Catherine M~Auley, First Sister of Mert3, (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1988). ~5 Note the history of the Glenmary Sisters of Cincinnati or the Los Angeles I.H.M.'s in addition to the more recent stories of Agnes Mary Monsour, Arlene Violet, and Elizabeth Morancy, all Sisters of Mercy unable to continue their ministries as vowed women ifi religious congregations. Consider also the present renewal attempts of the Association of Contemplative Sisters. For brief surveys of these cases, see "Inside- Outsiders" chapter three of Mary Jo Weaver's New Catholic Women: A Contempo-rary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (New York: Harper and Row, 1988) . ~6 See Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imaging Religious Lift, Today (New York: Paulist, 1986) and John M. Lozano, Discipleship: Towards An Understand-ing of Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center tk)r Spiritual Resources, 1980). Also see O'Malley, "Priesthood," p. 249 tbr the same point from a different perspec- The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 599 tive. ~7 J.B. Metz, Followers of Christ: Perspectives on the Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), chapter 3. ~8 lbid, p. 12. 19 Being "bound to freedom" appears at first sight to be an oxymoron, however the phrase is an attempt to reflect the demands made by the vows. ~0 Of interest in this regard is that even though various documentation from our church and the recent writings on religious life avert to the vows as important, if not essential, the Fifth Interamerican Conference on Religious Life, inclusive of leader-ship from men and women religious of North and South America, did not name the vows as essential. In a preparatory paper, the Leadership Conference of Women Re-ligious named mission, community, freedom, ministry, participative government, pub-lic witness, apostolic spirituality, spirituality of the founder, and ecclesial character as characteristics of religious life. None of the descriptions of the above included the vows. See The Role of Apostolic Religious Life in the Context of the Contempo-rary Chu'rch and World: Fifth Interamerican Conference on Religious Life (Ottawa: Canadian Religious Conference, 1986). 2~ O'Malley, p. 236. 22 T.S. Eliot, The Four Quartets (London: Faber and Faber, 1960), lines 212-219. Monasticism: A Place of Deeper Unity M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., well-known for his many publications on prayer and the contemplative life, may be addressed at Assumption Abbey; Route 5; Ava, Missouri 65608. In 1976 for six months I had the privilege of living among the Orthodox monks on Mount Athos, the semi-autonomous monastic republic in north-ern Greece. There the Gospels are the law of the land and day-to-day liv-ing is governed by the writings of the great spiritual fathers of the past, most notably those of Saint Basil, Archbishop of Caesarea, named the Great. I noted the remarkable affinity between the life lived on the Moun-tain and that lived by the monks of Saint Joseph's Abbey in the United States, from whence I came. The one great difference that struck me was the way lay visitors were incorporated into the life and worship of the monks. It was evident that there was no gulf between the life and wor-ship of the monks and that of the ordinary devout member of the Ortho-dox church. Orthodox monasticism is at the heart of the Church and all the rest of Church life is deeply influenced by it. In Western Christianity, monasticism is further removed from the life of the ordinary church member. Yet the historical influence of the monas-tics can not be denied, even among those Christian Churches which have largely disowned monasticism. Catholics generally revere monasticism, especially the more contemplative variety, and hold it in reverence as something vital to the life of the Church. The Second Vatican Council affirmed this strongly. Quite generally Catholics frequent monastic guest houses and retreats and find there something that speaks deeply to them. Protestant Christians from such contacts are beginning to reclaim this part of the common Christian heritage. The Anglican or Episcopal church 530 Monasticism and Unity/531 has been in the forefront in this. But the most notable Protestant monas-tery is one within the reform tradition--the monastery of Taize which is found in a part of France filled with monastic resonances: Citeaux, Cluny, Molesme. Most re~:ently the General Conference of the United Methodist Church has authorized the exploration of the possibility of es-tablishing an ecumenical monastic community in the United States. ,Monasticism is, then, a widespread phenomenon within the Chris-tian community and is becoming ever more present. It would be difficult to exaggerate the role of monasticism within some of the other world religions. Tibet, before the recent Communist take over, could have been called, like Mount Athos, a monastic coun-try, more a theocracy than a republic. In many Buddhist countries it has been the expected thing that every male would spend sometime within a,.monastery as part of his preparation for life. Although secularization is having an increasing effect within the Buddhist world, the monastic influenc

JUNE, 1901 ooTheoo ettysbur VOL. X NO. 4 PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE GETTYSBURG,PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Amos Eckert Dealer in Hats, Shirts, Ties, Um-brellas, Gloves, Satchels, Hose, Pocket Books,J* Trunks, J>& Telescopes, Rubbers, Etc., Etc. AMOS ECKERT. PRICKS ALWAYS RIGHT. TUG Lutheran No. 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for Any-thing and Everything in the way of Books for Churches, Families, Colleges and Schools, and Literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church institutions, with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, Supt., No. 1424 Arch St. Phila. 50 YEARS' EXPERIENCE TRADE MARKS DESIGNS COPYRIGHTS &C. Anyone sending a sketch and description may quickly ascertain our opinion free whether an Invention la probably patentable. Communica-tions strictly confidential. Handbook on Patent! sent free. Oldest agency for secuiingpatents. Patents taken through Munn & Co. receive special notice, without charge, In the Scientific American. A handsomely illustrated weekly. Largest clr. dilation of any scientific journal. Terms. $3 a year; four months, $£• Sold by all newsdealers. MUNN &Co.36""a* New York Branch Office, 626 F St., Washington, D. C. J. I. MUMPER, PHOTOGRAPHER, i 29 Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, i'n. Special attention paid to COLLEGE WOKK A fine collection of Battlefield Views always on hand. Mail orders receive prompt at-tention. C. A. Blocher's Jewelry Store, For Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins, Etc. All kinds of Jewelry. Repairing- a Specialty. POST OFFICE CORNER CENTRE SQUARE THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY The Literary Journal of Pennsylvania College Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1901 No. 4 TABLE OF CONTENTS William Shakespeare, . 104 What College Does for a Man, . . . . . . 107 The Mountain Brook, . 109 The Great Stone Face, . . Ill Two John Smiths, . US On a Sunlit Harbor, . . 118 Tennyson's "In Memoriam," . 119 Sonnet, . . 121 Editorial, . 122 The Present Difficulty Between Russia and Japan, 124 The Badge of Courage, . . 125 Translation of Horace I. 35, . 127 The Use of the Novel, . . 128 A Visit to Vahalla, . . 129 An Indian Legend, . . 131 Exchanges, . . . . . . 133 A Picture of Fancy, . . . . . . 134 The College Girl, . 135 For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we earn with a whole soul's tasking; 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the asking ; There is no price set on the lavish summer, And June may be had by the poorest comer. And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days ; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays. Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, grasping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul for grass and flowers. -Lowell. 104 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE J. B. BAKER, '01 'TPHERE is no name in modern literature, or perhaps we may * put it more broadly and state with equal certainty, none in all literature as illustrious as the name of William Shakespeare. Homer, in the gay dawn of Grecian civilization, stands out as the finished product of a more illustrious civilization than the one he occupies. He inhabits Olympus with imperial gods and god-desses and sings the grandest of heroic songs. A thousand years thereafter, in a lavish mood Calliope smiled upon the Latins. She gave to them a Virgil. In sweet and mel-low tones he sang of arms and men, and sent ringing through the corridors of time the undying cadence of his mellifluous tongue. Dante, when the gods of Homer and the heroes of Virgil were no more, towered up in Titanic grandeur, proud and solitary, with the sad and solemn dreams of his poetic imagination. Milton, of immortal fame, opened the gates of death, of heaven and hell, and saw such visions as no man saw before or since. Goethe, the acknowledged prince of German poets, stirred the whole literary mind of Europe like a breeze sweeping over a forest. But Homer, Virgil, Dante, Milton and Goethe do not live in our hearts ; do not twine round our affections; do not satisfy our souls as Shakespeare does. Here and there we may find touches of more daring sublimity, passages more steeped in learning, lines more concealed in abstract thought, but with Henry Glassford Bell, we must acknowledge that the greatest and best interpreter of human nature, the poet of the widest sympathies, a greater sculptor than Phidias, a truer painter than Raphael, came into the world at the pleasant town of Stratford-upon-Avon in April of 1564. Much as might be said of the life of this myriad-minded man, his early environment, his education, his struggle for success, his domestic and public relations, we shall pass all these by and pause for a moment in profoundest reverence to meditate upon the mag-nitude of his intellect. Let us first view him as the dreamer. How barren and inhos-pitable would be the realms of fancy if the characters of Shakes-peare's creation were not its denizens ! What an arid plain ! How sparsely inhabited ! How cold its inhabitants ! Where in all history can we find a creation to equal, nay, to THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 105 , approach the production of " A Mid summer Night's Dream ?" What poet has ever seen so many fairies flitting along the green knoll, through the shady dingle, and near the crystal fountain ? Who saw them dancing on the sand with " printless foot," mak-ing midnight mushrooms, gathering dewdrops and hanging pearls " on every cowslip's ear ?" Who saw them creep into the acorn cups, stealing honey-bags from the humble bees, and plucking the wings from painted butterflies ? What intellectual vision was ever keen enough to catch them bringing jewels from the deep and putting a girdle " round the earth in forty minutes ?" Can you find anywhere in all literature a creation to approach the ex-ploits of Queen Mab driving her hazelnut chariot with little atomies, using traces of a spider's web, a whip of a cricket's bone, and a lash of film ? And not only are the sportive acts of these various fairy beings fascinating, their very names are suggestive to us ot their nature, and carry a charm to the ear that hears them. Puck, Cricket, Cobweb, Oberon, and Ariel who slept in the cow-slip's bell, are as sweet music emanating from the strings of a master harpist. Shakespeare's imagination, however, was not always leading his lambent feet to the ephemeral assemblies of sylvan life. His thoughts were not always wrapped in the dapper little inhabitants of the fields of fancy. He was more than a dreamer. He was an interpreter of nature. Never in all history has an uninspired mind so variously and so exhaustively interpreted the mind of the Creator as revealed in nature as Shakespeare has. No " cloud-capped towers" were too high for him to behold, and no grain of sand too mean for him to wonder at. The blue hills from which the Avon flows lay before him as the slope of age, which we must all ascend, and the dark ravines that lay between them as the valley of the shadow of death. The blinding flash from an o'erhanging cloud, and the quick, sharp clang that clattered through the heavens and echoed and re-echoed among the distant hills, awakened within him a sense of the majesty of his Creator. The frail anemone and the faint blush of the arbutus in the midst of bleak and wintry March, touched his heart like a hope from heaven in a field of graves. The spark-ling oriole swinging in his hammock, the quail piping from the meadow fence, and the lark soaring up from the lush grass, re-minded him of the happiness of liberty, and furnished him with 106 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY some of his sublimest thoughts. He plucked the lily of the val-ley, and showed to the world that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed like one of them. In short, he was a perfect child of nature, finding " Tongues in trees, books in running- brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything." But Shakespeare was more thau an interpreter of unconscious nature. He peered into the arcana of human character. He sunk his plummet into the sea of human experience, deeper thau poet ever stirred its briny depths. The magic wand of his genius laid bare to him that paragon of all animals—intelligent man. It revealed to him the asininity of passion as well as the nobility of reason, the niggardliness of greed as well as the voluptuousness of hedonism, the depressions of the canaille as well as the festivi-ties of the affluent. Who has ever depicted in such striking colors the power of an evil woman as Shakespeare has ? Where can you find one steeped in greater heinousness than Lady Mac-beth ? Jezebel, the infamous wife of Ahab, planned the murder of Naboth for the acquisition of his vineyards. Catherine de Medici, almost insane with fear of the Huguenots, shocked the world with St. Bartholomew's massacre. But Lady Macbeth was the bloodthirsty assassin herself. " Give me the dagger," she says ; " the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures ; 'tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil." On the other hand, what pen has given us a more sublime picture of the bonds of reciprocal love than that which existed between Celia and Rosalind ? That of Holy Writ between David and Jonathan, and the one between Laelius and Scipio, are the only ones of which we are cognizant that will bear comparison with it. Who has ever shown the fickleness of the multitude more strikingly than the consummate Anthony showed it when he ap-pealed to the passions of the populace ? Who has shown the desolating effects of revenge more accurately than Shakespeare's Hamlet ? Who has glorified the spirit of forgiveness more admi-rably than his Prospero ? In fact, there is scarcely a phase of life that he did not touch, and on account of this his name enjoys its unparalleled univer-sality. An Englishman reads him andhe says, " How English !" A German reads him and he exclaims, " How Teutonic !" An THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 107 Italian reads hirn and be says, "How Roman !" As they said that Helen of Argos had such universal beauty that every one felt related to her, so Shakespeare seems to an American an Ameri-can genus. His broad humanity transcends all sectional lines, and he is the common heritage of the literary minds of the world. WHAT COLLEGE DOES POR A MAN . WILLIAM FKEAS, '01 A S the end of the college year draws near, it is fitting to ask the **■ question, What does college do for a man ? I^et us try to answer this query. It is difficult to hit upon the best thing which may have been accomplished, for there are so many good results, but we will mention a few. An undergraduate cannot appreciate so well the influence his college career has upon him as one who has been out in public life for some years after leaving his Alma Mater, but he has a fairly good idea. There is one thing which seems to hold pre-eminence in the majority of cases. It is, that a habit of thought has been formed. Nothing can be of more benefit to a man. How many men who have graduated have retained much of the subject matter of the text-books used ? They are not very numerous. Then, of what use are the text-books ? It is the training of application and learning to read and study intelligently which makes them so use-ful. Another thing of vast importance presents itself. At the time a man generally goes away from home to college he is at an impressionable age. It is during this period that his character is formed. Frequently we hear it said that a man is through all his life what he was when he graduated. How careful we should be that our associations and surroundings are such as to form good, noble characters. The love of knowledge, for its own sake, is gained when we come into touch with the great number of things to be learned in this world. When we see the extent of good, solid literature, and realize how little of it we will be able to master, there comes to us an unsatisfied longing—an aching void. There opens before us a vista, through which we can travel only for a short distance. Then it is that we see how small is our real knowledge. It knocks the over-weening conceit out of a man quicker than anything else, and puts him into a true posi- 108 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY tion to his fellows. A college course reveals to us in what line we may be most useful, for what our talents are best fitted. It is true, the majority of men come to college with a fixed purpose, and lay out for themselves a prescribed course which will best fit them for their life-work, but new capabilities are developed, and they turn their energies into new channels. Outside work, such as managing a team, being on the staff of a college publication, being active in literary societies, and many other things, aid greatly in the progress of a man. Laziness attacks all men at times, and especially a college student, but a man with any spirit cannot always sit idly by and watch the progress of his friends and not make an effort to follow them. We might even say that his association with wide-awake men is an education in itself. Many a man gets his first impulse for hard, persistent work while in college. He begins to appreciate the true worth of the mas-terpieces of literature and art, and places inferior productions in their true light. Even to-day we hear the assertion that college life ruins many, and so people refuse the advantages to those whom it would ben-efit greatly. A man must have very little backbone if the good he gets does not far outweigh the evil. An example of a wrecked life, traceable to college days, does sometimes come to our view, however much we regret it, but that should not make anyone condemn a college career, for a great number of men gain many advantages from it. Frequently a man is led to live an intellectual life, and then looks at things squarely in the face, " clearly, dis-passionately, and in their large relations." It has been said that " the American college is a mother of men." When a man gets away from home, and has to look out for himself, he gets expe-rience sometimes dearly bought, but of great value to him. It gives him the quality of independence which stands him in good stead. There are two elements in a college career—instruction and personality, and it is not easy to say which has the more and better influence. A man at college comes into contact with higher per-sonalities than he is likely to meet under other circumstances. Instruction gives him good principles upon which to build the structure of his life, while, on the other hand, the personality of the instructors can and does influence a student to higher ideals. The contact of man with man is beneficial to all concerned. Many THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 109 a life-long friendship has been formed during college days which, in later years, is of inestimable value. College is an excellent place to study men—their modes of work, their characters, and, in fact, all about them. This training is very useful in later life. The study of science and philosophy strengthens our trust in our Creator. The more we study the plan which is everywhere exhibited about us the more we feel "perfect fear" and rever-ence, as well as love and devotion, for the God who made us. We get a grander idea of His love for us in the provisions made for our welfare. Some few men may, perhaps, scientifically and philosophically, reason God out of existence, but generally the moral and mental horizon is widened infinitely. Let us sum up a few of the things mentioned which college does for a man. It forms the habit of thought ; it molds charac-ter ; it gives a love of knowledge for its own sake ; it has a de-terminative influence ; it brings man into contact with many other men, some of higher personalities ; it enriches his life ; it deepens and widens his view of truth ; it raises his ideals ; it increases his view of, and his love for, the beautiful; and it strengthens his faith in God by giving him a better understanding of the won-drous provisions made by an all-wise God for his welfare here be-low. THE MOUNTAIN BROOK C W. WF.ISER, '01 From a crevasse in the ledges, Covered by the flowery hedges, Shaded froni the noon-day's glow, In a pocket, mossy, low, Cool and limpid, bubbling ever From its home, without endeavor— Flows the crystal ice-cold fountain, High upon the lonely mountain. From deep parts, to us unknown, It has through the ages flown; From dark caverns in the ground, Gushing, bubbling all year 'round It pours forth into the light, Pure and limpid, crystal, bright, Filtered rain and melted snows. Rippling, wavering, on it flows 110 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY From its rock-bound, mossy bower, Hidden by the bush and flower, Rhododendrons, ferns and pines, Thorny shrubs and flowering vines, From whose branches, twigs and strands Hanging mosses stream in bands. All's a deep, luxuriant maze Whence songsters bright peal softest lays. Over all's the glowing sun; Underneath the shadows run, Where the fountain noiseless plays All the livelong summer days. Down the nook and thro' the dell, Rippling on the brook to swell, Flows the little, limpid stream, Murmuring as in pleasant dream, By the ancient little mill, Sometimes clattering, sometimes still; By the vine-clad cabin running, On whose porch the dog is sunning, And the old black puss is drowsing. In the mead a cow is browsing, By the brook are children playing, To the woods a colt is straying, From the trees an axe is ringing, In the house the mother's singing, From the chimney, curling, blue, Floats the smoke, and wafting thro' The Heavens bright, above the trees Dissolves in cooling morning breeze. A moment, and the scene is gone, The gurgling brook is flowing on, Now between the ponderous mass Of towering peaks, thro' mountain pass, Tumbling down with swish and roar, Dashed to spray on rocky floor. Rushing on its downward course, Over boulders, rumbling, hoarse, Loudly, swiftly on it sweeps Down the pass and o'er the steeps, Dashing into feathery spray, Prancing silvery on the way. Loudly rumbling, Noisy, grumbling, Gurgling, whirling, Eddying, twirling; Wildly churning, Skipping, turning, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 111 Downward rushing, Bubbling, gushing, In its hurry And its flurry L,oudly roaring, Madly pouring, On its way to vales below Does the mountain torrent flow. Thus the limpid mountain stream Floats at first as in a dream, a Sweetly murmuring softest tune, Harmonious with the month of June; Then as down the pass it flows, Swiftly up the scale it goes • With a rumble and a roar, Resounding far the mountains o'er; Floating, rushing, murmuring ever, Onward to the mighty river, Thence into the deep blue ocean, Tossed about in ceaseless motion, Till at last in vapor form It home returns in mist or storm. THE GREAT STONE FACE Oration by S. A. VAN ORMEB, '01 QITTING belore their cabin door, Ernest and his mother were ^ looking through the gathering gloom that follows the setting sun at the Great Stone Face, who, from his throne on the perpen-dicular side of the mountain, miles away, seemed to preside over the valley beneath. Here the mother related the story of the mountain image— told how that it had long been believed that the time would come when one should be born in the region who should become the greatest and noblest personage of his time ; and who should, in the splendor of his manhood, exactly resemble the wondrous features on the mountain side ; told how that the earliest inhab-itants had heard the story from the Indians, who had received it from their ancestors, to whom it had been told by the trickling waters of the mountain brook and whispered by the swaying trees. At the conclusion of the story Ernest expressed a desire to live to see the man; and his mother replied, " Perhaps you may." 112 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Time passed. Ernest lived on in his log cottage, helping his mother with his little hands and loving heart. He had no teacher save the Great Stone Face, whom he imagined to smile at him in response to his veneration. After the toil of the day he would gaze at the Titan image, and discern the love that was meant for all. Soon it was reported that one who had been born in the region was about to return, and spend his declining years amid the scenes of his childhood—the prophetic personage long-looked-for. Now this Mr. Gathergold had been fortunate in business pur-suits. He was the owner of a fleet that gathered the treasures of land and sea. A great retinue preceded him, and the people eagerly awaited his arrival. He came; but the "yellow claw" that dropped some coppers to a beggar woman, and the careworn face, bore no resemblance to the benign features of the mountain image. Dis-appointment filled Ernest's breast, and he turned away ; while the crowd, heedless of his lack, lauded the miser. But Ernest continued to study the granite face. Soon it was reported that the counterpart of the wondrous image was to ap-pear in the person of General Blood and Thunder. The inhab-itants prepared to banquet him and his retinue. The tables were set in the open. The banquet ended, the General arose to speak, and then Ernest saw him over the heads of the jubilant throng. His war-worn countenance, full of energy and expressive of an indomitable will, was indeed characteristic of the warrior; but it bore little resemblance to the broad, wise and sympathetic features of the man of stone. Next came the eminent statesman, whose clarion voice had made him prominent. Great preparations were made to receive Old Stony Phiz. Officers and prominent men accompanied him. A band added to the enthusiasm of the crowd, for he was a Presi-dential candidate. But, in the words of the author, " the sublimity and stateli-ness, the grand expression of divine sympathy, that illuminated the mountain image and etherealized its ponderous granite sub-stance into spirit, might here be sought in vain." The years sped on. White hairs appeared in Ernest's head. He had become a minister, and many eminent men visited him to share his wisdom. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 113 While he sat one evening reading songs that he thought worthy of one resembling the Great Stone Face, the author of those songs appeared, and Ernest was once again disappointed. Pleasantly they talked together; and when the hour arrived for Ernest to address an open-air meeting, they walked arm-in-arm to the scene. Ernest took his position before the audience; and as he poured forth the fullness of his heart the poet noticed the strong re-semblance between the grand beneficence of the minister's face and that of the face now enshrouded in the mountain mists ; and, in the author's words, " impulsively he threw his hands aloft and shouted: 'Behold! behold! Ernest is himself the likeness of the Great Stone Face !' " Such, in short, is the story of the Old Man of the Mountains; the legend of the Great Stone Face. Man cherishes ideals, and his worth in the world depends upon the ideals that he cherishes. Ideals, in the words of one, "are the meat and drink of life." Every thought that we think and every deed that we do is directed to some end; and life, which is but a series of acts, must answer to some end, noble or mean, pursued either consciously or unconsciously. The word progress is mean-ingless without reference to an ideal. They support and encour-age us. They exercise their influence upon us insensibly. They force us into the arena where we must wield the Gladiatorial sword in their vindication. The man of science discerns and interprets an order in things that we do not make. The effort to give distinctness and form to our ideals brings with it a purity that becomes evident. In this sense only should the word ideal be used; but if our thoughts and actions are directed toward a mean or low end, the result is just as evident. These truths are beautifully illustrated by the char-acters of the story. " We are what we are," says the Chinese aphorism, "'because we have been doing what we have been doing," and it might well be added that we have been doing what we have been doing because of the ideals we cherish. This is none the less true of nations than of men. Biography and History alike are replete with illustra-tions of men and nations that arose to eminence in a particular line because their thoughts, their efforts and their energies were directed toward that one end—an ideal. The merchant, the warrior, the statesman, the poet, and 114 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Ernest—the minister—all were born in the valley over which the man of the mountain presided. The merchant left in early life, spent his time and energy in accumulating a massive fortune. Anxiety filled his breast lest the ships that sought the northern furs be crushed by the icebergs, or the savage tribes, for whose Afric gold he bartered, might murder his agents. The storm at sea filled his breast with terror; still he sought his gold. His saf-fron hand and knitted brow were indeed characteristic. He achieved his end. He was diligent in business, so are all men who achieve success—"they shall stand before kings." The Phoenicians centered their efforts on commercial pursuits, and they secured almost exclusively the carrying trade of antiquity. The general's stern features and commanding figure were suggest-ive of one who had obeyed the bugle's call and led the charge to the mouths of belching cannon; one hardened by the carnage and death-agony of fields lost and won. Contrast, if you will, two great warriors to two great nations— Napoleon and Washington. Napoleon welded together into one vast domain many parts of Europe; Washington gained the inde-pendence of the American colonies. Napoleon worked for vain glory and aggrandizement; Washington fought for a cherished principle—a noble end. Napoleon "stamped his name upon the bricks of Paris;" Washington in the hearts of his countrymen. Sparta devoted her attention to military pursuits and she pro-duced a race of warriors of whose deeds and endurance we read with wonder. The statesman and orator, whose voice was heard on various occasions, could sway his auditors, which was one aim —perhaps he had a higher. The lives of Adams, Madison, Web-ster, Clay, Calhoun, Douglas, Lincoln, Blaiue present the various phases of achievement that result from the tendencies and attitudes of the men; but these are familiar. Athens sought orators and she produced them—"Orators that commanded silence in the very streets while the}'- spoke in the as-semblies. '' The poet sung his way to the hearts of the people and left cheer and inspiration there—which was his ambition. Milton's Paradise Eost is the result of great effort. Grey spent seven years on his Elegy. There was a time when England gave much attention to literature, and in the Elizabethan Age she produced Spencer, Shakespeare and Bacon together with many others scarcely less famous. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 115 But Ernest! He, like the others had heard the story of the mountain image in youth; but, unlike them, he had made it the study of his life. // was his ideal. He had seen it dimly through the morning fogs; he had seen it when the noonday sun made it effulgent or the storm-cloud cast over it an ominous shadow; he had looked upon it at evening until the ebon curtains of night shut itoff from mortal gaze. He it was Who had grown to resemble The Old Man of the Mountains; he was the counterpart of The Great Stone Face. TWO JOHN SMITHS L. W. GROSS, '01 TN a remote settlement in one of the upper counties of Pennsyl- •"■ vania there lived two men who both had the popular name of John Smith. Strange as it may seem, neither was related to the other nor to their illustrious namesake—the Virginia hero. These two men lived in a region once famous for its giant murmuring pines and its hemlocks, whose size is to this day re-vealed by the massive stumps which the. settlers removed from the ground and dragged to the roadside for the purpose of construct-ing iences on either side. Oftentimes the belated traveler would mistake their crooked gnarled roots, raised high above his head, for some giant ready to strike him down with a club. So fantastic and strange they appeared, making all sorts of weird forms and designs as they cast their crooked shadows athwart the road in the moonlight, that they startled and frightened anyone passing along this lonely road by night. In order to distinguish these two strange characters they were each given a special name to designate which John Smith was meant in talking about them. The one was called "Devil" John and the other "Lightning" John. Both names were descriptive of the personality of each man. Both persons were famous in the community. Of their early history I know nothing, but as my fancy pictures them to me now, I see them as aged men, perhaps 45 years of age. "Devil" John is tall, broad shouldered and slightly stooped. He goes about without a coat and has his trousers crowded into the tops of his boots. He wears a slouched hat and a lumberman's flannel shirt. He has long dark hair, mixed with gray, reaching nearly to his shoulders. His eyes are 116 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY small and of a grayish color, deeply set in his head, overhung by thick bristling eyebrows, and moved restlessly about when one looked at him. On the left side of his face is a scar which he says he received in an encounter with a bear. His face is nearly covered by his beard and moustache. His entire appearance arouses one's suspicion, yet his dealings with his neighbors are faultless. This man was the stage driver from the nearest railroad station to this particular place, which was a distance of sixteen miles. The way lay mostly through mountains and it required a full day to make the journey. To hear him relate his adventures with huge rattlesnakes, bears and highwaymen on the route made one think that he was a veritable "Tom Pinch." But this particular Smith's fame did not only consist in being a stage driver. That was a very small part of it. What he really was famous for was the fact that he was the biggest, the most skillful and accomplished liar in the community, besides other characteristics which contributed to his fame as a "character." Whenever the question in regard to the relative amount of pleasure derived from the pursuit or the realization of an object comes up, I think of a ride a young school teacher took on this particular stage. In contemplation of his journey he imagined himself seated on top of a huge coach, like a king upon his throne, with a coat-of-arms emblazoned upon the sides of the body of the vehicle. He imagined himself being drawn by at least four spirited horses at a full round gallop down the Narrows, around dangerous passes, over hill and dale. This was in contemplation. But what he realized when he stepped from the platform of the railway train was to find a disreputable old bay horse hitched to what was once a skeleton road wagon. It had been lengthened in order to make room for a trunk or two behind the driver's seat which was covered by a yellow umbrella. When the teacher inquired for the stage this odd combination was pointed out to him, and in a short time he was being driven over this route by the famous "Devil" John Smith. It took but a short time for the fact that he was the new school teacher to be known to the driver, and then into the credulous ears of this timid youth, who was already beginning to feel the pangs of disappointment and homesickness, were poured tales of all the bad boys in the school, making them appear as desperadoes, cowboys and veritable imps. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 117 He was told about the number of teachers who had been turned out of the school during the last term. All these stories were so well told that the unsuspecting pedagogue could not help but believe them, and before he was halfway over the route he wished himself in any other part of the world. The little children were deathly afraid of "Devil" John and would scamper away whenever they saw him coming. It was rumored that when his two children were sick with diphtheria he intentionally gave them carbolic acid instead of the proper medi-cine and thus killed them in a few minutes. This wicked act caused the children in the neighborhood to fear him. "Devil" John was also very irreligious, never being known to attend a religious service, and he frequently cursed his good wife who was a constant church goer. "Lightning" John Smith was famous for being the ugliest man as well as the loudest shouting Methodist in that part of the country. In appearance he resembled a Galilean bedouin. His hair and eyes were jet black. Beneath a scanty black mustache a row of well-preserved and very white teeth displayed themselves. Unlike the other John Smith he would drive for hours through cold winter nights in order to give his experience in the regular series of protracted meetings held in the Methodist church of that village during the winter months. He invariably began to speak slowly and in a moderate tone, but the longer he spoke the louder he became, until he fairly shrieked, bringing his hard fist down on the back of the pew for emphasis at the end of each sentence. The torrent of words and blows could be heard by passersby, who ofttimes took the commotion for the ravings of a mad man. After continuing his cries and shouting for some time he would sit down and wipe the perspiration from his brow. Thus we have a picture of two characters which have been interesting to me, and I doubt not that many others have seen these two persons in their own community under other names. c^p In every act reflect upon the end; and in the undertaking it consider why you do it.—JEREMY TAYLOR. 118 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY ON A SUNLIT HARBOR J. R. S., '01 On the pier of a beautiful harbor stand Three figures garbed in royal array, With anxiety stamped on their noble brows,— A youthful hero, and honored gray. 'Neath the watery horizon the sun reclines ! A sea of fire 's on the face of the deep! But the delicate hues from the sky shine not In a sea of glass; for wavelets leap. And the eyes of the three are fixed on a spot Far out on the troubled, uneasy sea; For the tide is receding and the breeze is brisk And a precious gem is borne to the lee. The gold and the violet and the pale green flame, Like the colors of a mighty banner flung On the harbor,—were caught by the playful waves, And from their crests in splendor hung. It was not this grandeur that held their gaze, Enrapt by the scene an only child Was carelessly drifting to the open sea, And tempests were rising o'er breakers wild. Said the father to the hero, "She ventured too far She can never return against those odds." And the stately mother with silvering locks Disturbed the silence by heart-breaking sobs. In an instant two skiffs, the pursued and pursuing, Were afloat in a splendor, rare and unreal, That makes life in this world an ecstasy, A glorious, painless star,—an ideal. And as twilight drew its shades o'er the deep The ideal became the real, indeed; For the rescue is complete and the treasure regained And hope made joy by a noble deed. When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver white, And cuckoo buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight. —SHAKBSPBARE. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 119 TENNYSON'S "IN MEMORIAM" CLYDE B. WEIKEBT, '02 HPO attempt to criticise such a piece of literature as the "In A Memoriam" of Tennyson would be rashness on the part of one whom insufficient study and poor interpretation of thought has acquainted with but few ideas of the real import of the poem. This work has been done more or less ably by men of culture in the art of criticism, and to these we willingly commit the task, being satisfied ourselves with an attempt at the comparison of this work to several others alike in character; and with an estimate of the poem, its merits and worth. In comparing this poem with the "Lycidas" of Milton we are at once made conscious of a vast diversity in degree of feeling in the hearts of the two authors. Milton mourns for the loss of his friend but his sorrow is obviously not so deep-seated as that which Tennyson pours forth in the endearing terms of the "In Memor-iam." The relation of the former poet to the subject of his song was tender and full of feeling, but the intimacy that existed be-tween Tennyson and Hallam was infinitely closer. In the one case it was the love of friend for friend; in the other of brother for brother, mortal man for his ideal,—almost perfect love. This love is expressed in a poem by Milton that compares with the feeling expressed in the verses by Tennyson only as a set of res-olutions framed by a secret society on the death of a brother does with the tender verses penned by a mother on the death of her child. The circumstances of King's death and the sorrow caused by . it are not treated philosophically by Milton in the "Lycidas" as are the like circumstances by Tennyson in the "In Memoriam." His departure from this life is deeply regretted, but the pangs caused by his death are not referred to as bringing blessings in disguise to us. Sorrow is not represented as elevating or as de-signed to better our condition; as making us more perfect morally or spiritually. Separation from loved ones is not mollified by any such vivid assurances of a happy meeting in the hereafter. The thought of the departed ones is not used as a guiding star by which we can regulate our aims and measure our achievements. Again, Milton does not indulge in any of the happy explana-tions or rather suggestive questions concerning the future state of the soul as does Tennyson. These almost inexplicable problems 120 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY are dealt with in a most interesting way by the author of the "In Memoriam," for instead of expressing his own beliefs he rather intimates happy and probable solutions and gives to the mind of the reader a subject for thought. The most notable of our innate curiosities concerning eternity are voiced and the poet does not seemingly shun any one of them. Milton happily refers to his friend in glory but does not suggest near so many of his possible conditions there. The thought in the "Lycidas" is not so subtle, nor is the trac-ing of the poet's meaning nearly so difficult a task as in the "In Memoriam," yet its many mythological references render it far less enjoyable and less capable of interpretation by the unschol-arly. The poem of Tennyson's seems to conform more closely to Milton's statement, "Poetry should be simple, sensuous, and pas-sionate," than does his own. Shelley treats the death of John Keats in his "Adonais" more extensively than Milton does that of his friend in the "Lycidas.'' However, it may be said as was concerning the latter that the sorrow for Keats was not so heart-felt; his death did not affect the author so directly as Hallam's did Tennyson. Furthermore, the philosophical treatment is less as are also the intimations concern-ing eternity. The thought is more subtle than in the "Lycidas," though still far inferior to the "In Memoriam," and the language is less scholastic. But the poem seems to be more of a reprimand or an accusation against the author of the harsh criticisms against Keats, rather than a loving memorial and eulogy on his life. Words again fail in attempting an estimate of this poem. Pardoning a personal reference, let it be said that never has any piece of literature appealed to my emotions more than this. Never has the light and purity of perfect love for a friend been shown so forcibly as was by Tennyson in this memorial of Arthur Hallam. Ideality of character and ambitions seem to be the chief attributes which are assigned to his friend and these are worshipped with a steadfast devotion. A perfect consciousness of the super-iorities of his ideal kept the worshipper forever in loving awe of the worshipped one and became his only delight. The philosophical treatment of the subject is excellent. The poet never allows himself to become so enveloped in the cloud of sorrow as not to be able to see the light beyond. Through each pang which Hallam's death has caused him he sees the refinement THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 121 of his own nature. His death he realizes to be only the opportu-nity for further development which will render him a more perfect model after which to mould his own life. Even the spring-tide, when the advent of Arthur's birthday approaches is used to rep-resent the glorious season of immortality when friend shall meet friend to part no more. As to the allusions to the future, nothing could be more probable and suggestive than his opinions. The intimation of the development of the mind in after life along all lines of knowl-edge and wisdom on a more rapid and perfect scale is beautiful. The hope for recognition in glory is full of pathos and contains a happy, consoling thought. His reference to his friend as being with God, where he is only in his true sphere, shows a faith that is boundless and displays the most confident trust. Surely noth-ing could be more full of belief in and admiration for the Divine than the verse with which the poem is concluded: That God, which ever lives and moves, One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves." SONNET I think of her and try, all through the day, To see her face, and as I persevere L,ove lets me see, but the sweet lips appear Cold, and the eyes not yielding' blue, but gray, Hard gray ; her whole form seems to say me nay. In all the din of day I cannot hear Her voice ; but in the night it seems so near, Laughing and chiding all my doubt away, So near, I almost feel her breath ; I crave Fancy of I^ove ; he sweeps me with his wing And all the air around is sweet with her : I feel her breast to mine like a swelling wave And lingering lips light love-words murmuring, Melt into mine in a soft slipping blur. Mortimer Stirling, from Red and Blue. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entertdat the Postojjice at Gettysburg as second-class matter Voi,. X GETTYSBURG, PA., JUNE, 1901 No. 4 E. C. RUBY, '02, Editor-in- Chief R. ST. CLAIR POFFENBARGER,' 02, Business Manager J. P. NEWMAN, '02, Exchange Editor Assistant Editors Miss ANNIE M. SWAHTZ, '02 A. B. RICHARD, '02 Advisory Board PROF. J. A. HIMES, A. M., LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLBY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Assistant Business Manager CURTIS E. COOK, '03 Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg1) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Fifteen Cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS ¥ ITERARY societies are voluntary associations for educational ■"-^ purposes. They are entirely separate from the regular course of school and college work. In many instances they are established by the students themselves, and the officers are usually chosen from their own numbers. This gives them the opportun-ity to learn how to preside at public meetings and to become fa-miliar with the recognized methods of conducting the affairs per-taining to such organizations. It is in these societies that the young parliamentarian learns to make a motion or to rise to a point of order; the aspiring debater displays his skill in convincing his hearers that his opponents are wrong; and the coming orator pours forth his eloquence to his heart's content. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 123 The debates, the essays and the orations develop the powers of observation and expression. They promote readiness and in-dependence. Are these not some of the most valuable things which a man, who goes out into the world to try its realities, ought to possess ? Do we as students fully realize the importance of such an equipment ? In all true education the amount of knowledge communicated, however important it may be, is an entirely subordinate matter compared with the mental desires that are aroused and the mental power that is stored up. I once heard a man say that he did not care so much whether the teacher taught his son the facts in his-tory, but he did want him to create in him a taste for history. This expresses exactly the idea of our college course. How few, indeed, are the facts which we as students are able to gather while under the instruction of the professor compared with those that are gathered by men who are working by themselves in some chosen profession! Some of us regret that not more time can be spent in the classroom on the subject of botany. If the professor has succeeded in arousing a taste for the subject he has accom-plished his work. The student will then become his own teacher and a better one he could not find anywhere. The same is true in the department of literature. How few are the authors to whom we get but an introduction ! But if we have been led to love lit-erature, or have been made hungry, we will not be satisfied with what we get in the classroom. Could not the same be said of all the college work ? We should not come to college with the ex-pectation of going away with a load of facts and a feeling that we have all we want. If we do not go away with a greater appetite than when we came, we might as well have remained at home. c^P Duty is a power which rises with us in the morning and goes to rest with us at night. It is the shadow which cleaves to us, go where we will, and which only leaves us when we leave the light of life.—GLADSTONE. 124 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE PRESENT DlfEICULTY BETWEEN RUSSIA AND JAPAN ARTHUR B. RICHARDS, '02 rT,HE current literature of the last mouth has had much to say *■ concerning the threatened war between Japan and Russia. The province of Manchuria, situated on the eastern coast of Siberia, seems to be the bone of contention. Each nation has her own distinct reasons for wishing to bring this province under her control. What Russia desires is a harbor in the east. She now owns the greater part of Siberia, but can not develop the resources of this vast territory nearly so well as she could were she able to reach the eastern markets. With a seaport in the east Russia could greatly increase her commerce; she could trade directly with the islands of the Pacific. But in order to reach a harbor she must go through the center of Manchuria and she is now striving to hold this country until she can secure the right of way. Japan, on the other hand, has not room at home to accommo-date her industrious and ever-increasing population. The people can not all be cared for on the small island, and Japan has long been looking to Manchuria as a possible outlet. Moreover, Japan had gained a landing in Manchuria during the war with China in 1895, but was forced by Russia to withdraw. This Japan has not yet forgotten, nor is she ready to forgive it. These, in brief, are the principal causes of the threatened war. In case war were toensue.it is generally conceded that Russia would prove too strong for her rival. Manchuria would be the objective point, and could probably be reached and a landing effected by Japan. But she would be unable to hold out long against the superior laud force of Russia. In round numbers, Russia's army has 1,250,000 men to Japan's 90,000. Russia's troops, by the thousands, could be hurried across Siberia by means of the newly constructed railway, while Japan would be compelled to bring her army by the slow process of transportation. These considerations show that Japan's hope of success is very small, and with such odds against her it is not likely that she will be willing to clash arms with the formidable Russians. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 125 THE BADGE OF COURAGE CARRIE E. INGLEBIRT, '04 'T'HIS expression is doubtless familiar to nearly every one by ■"■ reason ol its being almost identical with the title of a recent and very popular book. You can read the words, pass on, and pay little attention to them, yet if the reader pauses and takes a deeper insight into them they gradually unfold a meaning which is far from being insignificant. Courage is a spiritual or innate force, which enables one to face trouble, danger, and even death, with that fearlessness which characterized the sainted martyrs of mediaeval days when being led forth to the stake. Amid the jeers and hisses of the surging crowds, they sang hymns. The American of today, living at too fast a pace to sing slow meter psalms in the face of danger, cheer-fully whistles. It is a somewhat common or popular opinion that courage can only be displayed upon the field of battle or other public places, in which the chief actors appear before the eye of the public. But this contention is false and unreasonable, as can be proven by examples almost without number. In all the humbler walks of life men and women, unseen and almost unheard of, show themselves to be heroes and heroines of the most courageous type. Do not the city papers bring to our notice page aftef page of noble soul-stirring deeds performed at a most perilous risk of life ? And despite the idea that news items are often fictitious, these cannot all be the products of ingenious reporters. With no disparagement to the soldier, it may be said that he has ever before him, as a stimulus to courageous deeds, the hope of promotion from the ranks. But no such red badge of courage adorns the man who saves another in distress, passes on into the crowds, and is lost sight of. Such instances are witnessed fre-quently in our large cities. The laurel and myrtle wreaths are reserved exclusively for those who are valorous in time of public danger, while the one who, from an unselfish Christian motive, takes his life in his hand, remains unrecognized. Out of the multiplicity of instances may we not treat of just a few ? To whom shall the badge of courage go with more pro-priety or justness than to those who leave home, and all the 126 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY sacred interests which are clustered around the homestead, and sail far away, across the sea to the sunny isles of a southern clime, there to become ministering angels to the suffering human beings stricken with leprosy. It is almost certain to be their first and last journey ; for who, with the meagre knowledge of man, can tell when they, too, will be in the same sad plight ? Let us also spare a kindly thought for the mothers, wives and clear ones of the hero who buckles on his belt and sword and goes forth to war. Must not pain and anguish almost wrack those fond hearts at the separation, which can so easily be final ? Surely, do the dear ones at home anxiously scan the daily mortality list, as sent out by the army. And then the startling intelligence reaches them that their hero has gone down in battle, or, sadder still, has fallen a victim to the wages of disease. No more will his cheery whistle resound through the house, or his happy smile chase the shadows of care and trouble away as the rising sun dis-pels the morning mist. It is altogether befitting that upon these sorrow-laden ones we pin the badge of courage. What emblem of courage should we give to such as these for their self-sacrificing devotion to their trust ? Theirs is the self-consciousness of work well done, of obligation carried out, of duty faithfully fulfilled, and no more honorable badge of courage can be secured at our hands than this. They know, as Christians, that they have answered the demands of their Maker, and the ringing plaudits of the people are as the singing of birds in their ears. The highest aspiration in life should be to do the best at all times, and in all places. And now, this having been done, a distinct feeling of satisfaction must surely be felt. Having endeavored to prove the theory already advanced, may we not conclude that the true badge of courage is not neces-sarily the red one for valor in time of danger, but is really the white, that one symbolic of purity and innocence, which is not secured in this sphere, but when the possessor has left the earthly scenes, and stands forth in the clear radiance of another world, then is the true reward, the real badge of courage, seen in its highest and holiest sense. The hearts of men are their books; events are their tutors; great actions are their eloquence.—Macaulay. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 127 TRANSLATION OF HORACE I. 35 ABDEL E. WENTZ, JK., '04 O peaceful goddess, favored Antium's queen, Thou who canst raise a humble man to fame, And turn proud triumphs wondrous to be seen To funerals—all men adore thy name. The rustic farmer prays to thee in fear; To thee as mighty mistress of the sea, Whoever tries through boisterous waves to steer, Directs his prayer, that he secure may be. The warlike Dacian flees before thy face; Whole towns and nations look to thee for aid. The strength of kings depends upon thy grace; The power of despots all on thee is staid. They know that thou canst overthrow the state, And quickly rouse the idle ones to arms; They stand before thee trembling lest their fate Shall prove thee to be worthy of alarms. Stern Doom is ever foremost in thy train; She bears her emblems in her brazen hand: The huge beam—nail, the wedge, the clamps, the chain, And melted lead, to make thy edicts stand. Pure Faith and Hope are both thy steadfast friends, They follow thee whatever may betide; To thee each one an earnest friendship lends, Nor can misfortune drive them from thy side. As Caesar sails for distant Britain's shore, Do thou protect and keep him by thy might; Defend our youthful soldiers, we implore, And may they be successful in the fight. Alas! the awful crimes in which we've shared! Too long have civil wars abased our pride; What altars in our madness have we spared? What kind of evil have we left untried? O grant to forge the blunted sword anew! Remove from us the cause of all our woes; Bestow on us thy grace in all we do, And help us to subdue our cruel foes. 128 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE USE OF THE NOVEL BESS DRAIS, '04 TX EPRIVED of books the world would be robbed of one of its *-/ most essential joys. They are one of the few profitable things that afford unalloyed pleasure. In books, the mind has scope, something to develop its power and something that feeds it. There are thousands of standard works of fiction which are wholesome in tendency, purely educators of the mind. The bright accounts of travel, witty discussions, lively or pathetic story-telling in the form of a novel, is a singular characteristic of the present age. We should read them not merely to be occupied but to weigh and consider, although their purpose is, in a measure, to delight, relieve and amuse. A novel to be of great value, however, must be true to life. If it excites sympathy it will help us to see our own faults as well as the failings of others and will teach us to make an allowance for human nature. The novel superseded the drama when the latter had become unprofitable; not content with this, it makes high aims to rival history by discussing the great deeds of the past and the burning questions of the present; for its general use is culture, teaching history or science, thus reaching many people with its truths which would not be read elsewhere. In times of despondency, when even life seems monotonous, novels sustain and cheer, showing us the truest side of human na-ture which we are often inclined to imitate. Grounded on truth they arouse our moral imagination causing us to think—to think very seriously of our own weak selves. But truth is not the only requisite. The novel, to be profitable as well as entertaining, needs love. Of course I do not mean that sentimental art of love-making,' but rather a tender feeling for hu-manity and the conditions of man. Hawthorne, in his novels, pictures a higher ideal of life by making virtue more attractive and vice more repulsive. He goes deeper and higher than mere literalness; he. sees life as a whole but after all the true things are the spiritual things. At a certain age we are most amused by the unnatural and supernatural, but, as it has been said, when we grow older we realize that life itself has the best outlook for us and the most interesting fiction is that THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY . 129 which shows us life as it is. So every novel does have a purpose,' and whatever that purpose ma)' be it will be truly noble if built on the appreciation of human love, human courage and human character. A VISIT TO VALHALLA P. W. EYSTER, '03 /^\NE day in May after a shower of rain, a student while walk- ^^ ing over the scene of Pickett's charge in quest of relics found a ring, which had been washed out of the ground. On close examination he found it to be a broad, silver ring, which bore the device of two triangles, crossing each other in such a way as to form the representation of a star. King Solomon, the Wise, is said to have invented this device, which is of great use to enchanters and conjurers, but as the student was not well versed in the signs of magic he could not appreciate its value and carelessly placing the ring on the little finger of his left hand, returned to college. He was a member of society and attended the parties and enter-tainments given by the hospitable people of Gettysburg. In the latter part of May, on a beautiful moonlight night, there was a party given by his friends near L,ittle Round Top. He went to this party where he enjoyed himself until a late hour, when he saw that a certain young lady got home safely. He challenged her to walk on Little Round Top past the statue of Gen. Warren. She being active, accepted the challenge. They left their friends and when they reached the summit, being out of breath, they seated themselves on a rock near the statue for a brief rest. While they were resting, the statue commenced to speak, moving its jaws as if rusted from disuse. It said, "You, young man, have a ring on your finger bearing the representation of a star; that ring is the key to Valhalla. The fates have decreed that the gates of Valhalla shall not be opened by the hand of a man, even though he possess the ring with the star, but if the young lady will touch the rock upon which I stand after you have placed the silver ring on her finger, the gates of Valhalla shall for the first time be opened to mortal man." The ring having been placed on the young lady's finger, she touched the rock upon which the statue stands. Immediately there was a loud report like that of thunder, and the rock moved 130 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY aside leaving an opening where the two entered. After entering they found themselves on a grassy plain. They saw at a distance a body of English soldiers dressed in bright red uniforms, lined up for battle. Soon another body of soldiers appeared but not so gayly dressed as the other. At the head of this was the venerable George Washington preparing to fight for the thousandth and first time the battle of Yorktown. Washington rode before his men and said: "See those Red-coats, shoot for their belts, we must win the day or perish on a bed of honor." The English advanced, but the soldiers of the "land of the free and the home of the brave" being determined to win drove the Redcoats over their entrenchments. The visitors advanced farther and saw at a distance embank-ments of cotton-bales and earth thrown up, behind which were a few thousand men. Seeing Andrew Jackson riding near them they asked him what his men were waiting for. He said, "They are waiting to thrash the army which defeated Napoleon on the world-famed battlefield of Waterloo." The English army ad-vancing under Gen. Packenham soon attacked the embankments of Jackson's soldiers but was driven back in confusion under a writhing fire from the American guns. The next scene which met the visitors' eyes was a battle be-tween soldiers wearing the blue and those wearing the gray. As a regiment of soldiers were filing past the visitors, the young man asked a soldier, who was in the rear, what they were about to do. He replied, "We are going to fight the battle of Gettysburg, where we will show to the world that 'Republics shall stand and king-doms fall.' And we will teach the kings of Europe that 'a gov-ernment of the people, for the people, and by the people' is a possibility." By this time the battle was going on in dead earn-est. Valhalla was resounding from the artillery duel between the contending armies. Soon a division of the Confederate army, advancing from the smoke, charged the Union breast-works. A hand to hand conflict ensued, and above the rattle of the musketry could be heard the groans of the wounded and dying men. During the excitement of the battle the young lady carelessly lost the ring, when there was a clap of thunder and the visitors again stood on Little Round Top. Oh! had this woman not been so careless as to lose the key to Valhalla, we might visit at our leisure the warriors contending on the bloody battle-field of Val- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 131 halla. But just as Eve was the cause of the downfall of man, so this Gettysburg maid, one of the daughters of Eve, was the cause of the loss of the key to that mysterious realm of the soldiers' heaven. But what is the use of mourning over the misfortunes of mankind, since we cannot add a cubit to our stature. After they had stood for a while on Eittle Round Top, breathing the atmosphere of mortal men, they started for the young lady's home. When the two separated, they promised each other to keep their visit to Valhalla a secret. But putting a secret in a woman's braiu is like pouring water on a sieve. So, dear reader, I have the pleasure of recording the incidents of a visit to Valhalla. c*$J AN INDIAN LEGEND A. 0. WOLFE, '04 To the westward, afar o'er the prairies is the land where the Sierra Nevadas Rear aloft their bald heads to the heavens; and reach out with their mystical shadows, Just as though the grim soul of the mountains stretched its hundred hands forth o'er the valley, To rebeckon its armies of whirlwinds, or to summon its thunders to rally. There the smiling- Yosemite valley, 'neath the sheltering crags of the mountains, Robed in tropical green and in freshness as is grass near the spray of a fountain, Stretches out with its slow winding river; and with a waving ocean of petals, Attempts, in its alluvial bosom, to conceal all its glittering metals. In the valley a town of the Shoshones, nestled snugly 'tween mountain and river, Seemed asleep in the afternoon sunlight; for the red men with bow and with quiver, Far away o'er the snowy capped mountains, sought the flesh of the deer on the prairie Or the lumbering buffalo hunted. The village, by the wand of a fairy, Seemed a quaint painting conjured on canvas; e'en the butterfly breezes were leaving The fierce watch dogs alone to their dreaming; and the squaws stopped anon at their weaving 132 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY With the maidens to witness the sunset. At some distance removed from the village Walked the wife of the red warrior's chieftain. She had gone the green meadow to pillage Of its succulent roots and its fruitage. To her right her child toddling and straying Neared the place where a crystal spring bubbling with itself like an infant was playing. From aloft in the transparent ether on bold pinions descended an eagle, Which at first seemed a speck in the zenith; then as bent on a purpose illegal, Nearer and larger it grew till at length, like a bolt from a bow it de-scended, Grasped ithe Indian child in its talons, and aloft to the wild crags ascended. Such a scream from the lips of the mother as might waken to life the departed, Roused the idling maids in the village. They beheld as she frantically started Up the steep ragged side of the mountain, that she further and further retreated In pursuit of her child and the eagle. But her journey was not half completed Ere a wild hissing sound through the branches, the dark gathering clouds and the thunder, The swift pattering fall of the rain drops, and the tossing of tree tops in wonder, All proclaimed the approach of the tempest. The elements crash! The wild winds bellow! And the day reels and rocks into darkness. Then the lightning shot forth in the yellow And sulphurous turmoil of ether in a network of serpentine flashing, Till the hills on their very foundations seemed to rock at its terrible crashing. And the storm is abroad in the mountains! The oracular hills and the hollows Are appalled at the noise of his stamping; and the brook in the gulch where he wallows L,eaps its bounds, in its anger, a torrent. Then from bastion to bastion each moment In the chaldron of vapor below with a roaring and rumbling the sound went Of the battering peal of the thunder. Millions or more of roused echoes arose When the wind rushing forth in his fury, left the blue ocean in placid repose And encamped 'mong the paralyzed hemlocks. And he howls as he hounds down his quarry. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 133 And his lash tears the hair of the oak tree, which, with womanish fear in its flurry, As it clings to the rock with torn garments, is bewailing- its fate and the morning'. Then this fierce guide of storm and of terror rushes off with a hoarse note of warning Through the intricate maze of the branches. There is war in the skies! And the midnight, Doubly mocked by its own apparitions, quickly cringes and shrinks from the flashlight Of the murderous bolt of the lightning. Then the storm passes on to the ocean, And has left the dark mountains in quiet and the night-fairies filled with emotion. But the Indian child and the mother passed from life into death in its maelstroms; And the eagle bore skyward their spirits to the glad Hunting Ground of the Shoshones. As they sail through the night wind, richly lit by the glow of the moon-light, The bright orbs of the sky in amazement reel and swim in their oceans of starlight. All the spirits of beasts of the forest quickly flee the approach of the stranger, As a herd of wild deer on the prairie run away at the first sign of danger- Then a buffalo, older and wiser to oppose their advancing, had started, But the bold, fearless soul of the mother raised her hand and the wild beast departed; And at once in its place was the sunrise, was the glad Hunting Ground of the Shoshones. EXCHAINGES IT is a relief to turn from the somewhat tedious prose articles of * the college magazine to its lighter contents. We are not among those who say that the literary monthly should be com-posed entirely of short stories, but we do believe there should be enough light material to relieve the tedium which necessarily arises from the perusal of a number of theoretical articles, which are often difficult of comprehension. Because of its pleasing va-riety, The College Student holds first place among our last month's exchanges. Nearly all the magazines contain some fiction—The Touchstone and The Lesbian Herald too much, according to our opinion. 134 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY "The Poet's Corner" of the Dickinson Literary Monthly is always entertaining. " The "Wreck " is a vivid descriptive poem in the last number. The Shakespeare edition of The Coitey College Chronicle is full of excellent articles on the great dramatist and his work. Half-tones of the poet, his own and Ann Hathaway's home, make the magazine very attractive. " Nescius Aurae Fallacis " in The Western University Courant is the title of a story on a phase of college life which is probably familiar to most students. A PICTURE OF FANCY I. There's a vale in the far away mountains Where the pinnacle barriers stand Like guards in the outskirts of nature To shut in the peace of the land. Here, wild and alone, great boulders are strewn And there sweeps a beautiful lawn; And the Angel of Light brings a rose every night To hang on the curtains of dawn. II. She forgets not to pause in the evening And spread o'er the heavens a glow, With a picture whose secret of painting No mortal man ever shall know; When the stars are asheen and the skies are serene, And the soft clouds gently are driven, She changes the scene and the moon glides between Like a ray through the window of heaven. III. I gaze on the depths of the morning And all like a glory doth seem, I find in the twilight resplendent, A divine and immaculate dream. And touched by the wand of some magical hand, All the raptures of fancy unroll; And a music unknown, like a deep undertone, Is awaked in the harp of the soul. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 135 IV. Would I Bell the sweet picture of fancy- Though its being were nought but a name? No not for the wormwood of glory, And not for the bubble of fame. It is sweet to be near to the eye and the ear, Of a Father who watches above, To study how grand are the works of His hand, And to catch little secrets of love. Ex. How much energy, vitality, effort, is being expended every day fruitlessly because of the want of intelligent application ! Even among students of college there are some who, though they are sincerely studious in their daily work, pass through their course without having attained the best which their opportunity affords and their efforts seem to deserve.—Ex. "To me, I swear, you're a volume rare;" But she said, with a judicious look, "Your oath's not good by common law, Until you've kissed the book." —Ex. THE COLLEGE GIRL There's a gladness in her gladness When she's glad; There's a sadness in her sadness When she's sad; But the gladness of her gladness, And the sadness of her sadness, Aren't a marker to the madness Of her madness When she's mad. —Ex, PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Botcher Beef, Veal, Pork, Lamb, Sausages. Special rates to Clubs. In buying don't forget the Advertisers; They support us. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President aud Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammeistomn Bromti Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAiUER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. ~ EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 307, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay- Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted J6 Kt. Gold Pen, Iridium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. No. 1. No. 1. No. 3. No. 3. Chased, long or short $2 00 Gold Mounted 3 00 Chased 3 00 Gold Mounted 4 00 Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 SO Twist, " 2 50 Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO., WHITEWATER, WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyou. Agood local agent wanted in every school 71 We Print This Book THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing- and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. SPRINGS1;^A. H. S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Ggars. J7 CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the th ree days* fig-lit, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta-tionery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. J. A. TAWNEY_^_ Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc* Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. M. B. BENDER Furniture IRON BEDS, MATTRESSES, SPRINGS Picture Framing and Repair Work done Promptly 27 BALTIMORE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. .00 TO. fjotel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON W.F.CODORI, m^Tc^do^i Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. CHAS. S. MUMPER (Formerly of Mumper & Bender) Furniture Having opened a new store opposite W. M. R. R. Depot, will be pleased to have you call and examine goods. Picture Framing promptly attended to. Repair Work a Specialty Students' Trade Solicited FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Spalding's Official League Ball and Athletic Goods Officially adopted by the lead-ing Colleges, Schools and Athletic Clubs of the Country Every Requisite for— BASE BALL FOOT BALL OOLF TENNIS ATHLETICS GYMNASIUM Spalding's Official League Bail Is the Official Ball of the National Iveague, the princi-pal minor leagrues and all the leading college associations Handsome Catalogue of Base Ball and all Athletic Sports Free to any address Spalding's Offi-cial Base Ball Guide for 1901, edited by Henry Chadwick, ready March 30,1901. Price 10 cents. A. Q. SPALDINQ & BROS., Incorporated NEW YORK CHICAGO DENVER ROWE, Your Grocer Carries Pull Line ol Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEQE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, *#Druggists Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J> Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. GULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH ST. PHILADELPHIA SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through A. N. Beau. A. C Miller Job Printer Students' Trade Solicited Best of Work Guaranteed Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OF SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Pleased Customer Is not a stranger in our establish-ment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg" St., Gettysburg, Pa. L Try My Choice Line of .} £ High-Grade Chocolates 3 ¥¥ at 4flc per lb. Always fresh at CHAS. H. McCLEARY Carlisle St., Opposite W Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits A 3 ARY J Mil. R. R. p Y' Always on Hand. L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel Main St. Gettysburg. Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day- John E. Hughes, Frop. Capitol Cits Cafe Cor. Fourth and Market Sts. HARRISBURG, PA. First-Class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Night. European Plan. Lunch of All Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINGER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES F. Mark Bream, Dealer in Fancy and Staple Groceries Telephone 29 Carlisle St., GETTYSBURG, PA. JxMijjJ^^hy .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS ftlrigbi 140-142 Woodward Avenue DETROIT, MICH. Manufacturers of High Grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. HOTEL GETTYSBURG LIVERY GETTYSBURG, PA. LONG & NOLTZWORTH, Proprietors Apply at Office in the Motel for First-Class Guides and Teams TME BATTLEFIELD A SPECIALTY Zhe Bolton Market Square Ibarrfaburg, ff»a. Large and Convenient Sample Rooms. Passeng-er and J5a.gga.ge Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Light and Steam Heat. J. M. & M. S. BUTTERWORTH, Proprietors Special Rates for Commer-cial Men "EZ 1ST IMMER CUT ET WAS ZU WISSEIN." These are the words of Goethe, the great German poet, and are as true in our day as when uttered. In these times of defective vision it is good to know something about eyes. A great deal has been learned about the value of glasses and their application since Goethe lived. Spectacle wearers have increased by thousands, while at the same time, persons losing their eyesight have been greatly diminished. If your eyes trouble you in any way let me tell you the cause. Examination free and prices reasonable. We grind all our own lenses and fit the best lenses (no matter what anyone else has charged you) for $2.50 per pair and as cheap as SO cents per pair, or duplicate a broken lens if we have one-half or more of the old one, at a reasonable charge, returning same day received. .E. L. EGOLF. 807 and 809 North Third Street, FIARRISBURG, PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Pentpol J-fotel, ELIAS F1SSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Lig-ht and Call Bells all through the House. Closets and Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-ming's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rates $1.50 Per Day. GET A SKATE ON And send all your Soiled Linen to the Gettysburg Steam Laundry R. R. LONG, Prop. Horace Partridge & Co., BOSTON, MASS. Fine Athletic Goods Headquarters for Foot Ball, Gym-nasium, Fencing and Track Supplies. Send for Illustrated Catalog. 84 and 86 Franklin Street R. W. LENKER, Agent at Penna. College. JOHN M. MINNIQH, Confeetionery, lee, • »««Iee Creams-*-* Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. HARim §. 3EFTON The Leading Barber v>f)op (Successor to C. C. Sefton) Having1 thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. GETTi^URCj., PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. lO BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. t\. kiitm Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. OETTYSBURa, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adam* County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. For Fine. Printing go to Tfe Jo Co Wile foitiipg Honje CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. R. M. Elliott Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGARS. MARTIN, ^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. %2** w^v^ Charnbersburg St., Gettysburg Leadership . IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S PURNISHING Business It is strictly here—everybody knows it. Testimony? The stock itself. The pen suffi-ciently nimble to tell all the good points of our ::::::: FALL AND WINTER. SUITS AND OVERCOATS has not been found. We will keep you dressed right up-to-date if you buy your Clothing and Furnishings here. : : : : STIINE McPherson Block. No. II BALTIMORE STREET ,--.-;. Ibotcl (Bett^sbutQ. ©ett^burg, pa. ZlDerville IE. Ztnn, proprietor r^^^^gsS^S^S^-* The Leading Hotel Rates $2.00 per Day Long & Holtzworth Livery Attached Cuisine and Service First-Class Look for Wm. M. Seligman's Advertisement on this page in our next issue

Issue 42.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1983. ; REVIEW FOR R~.L~c, lous (ISSN 0034-639X), published evcry two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. Rv.vw.w FOR REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by R~.v~Ew ~:oR REIAG~OUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVI~:W I.'OR REHC.tOIIS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1983 Volume 42 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REWEW ~'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Oul of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Intergational; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Trends in Religious Life Today John M. Lozano, C.M.F. On the evening of June 16, in joint sponsorship with St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS launched the fi~st of an annual series of lectures and colloquies on a subject of pertinence to religious life as such. The first lecture in this series, the basis of the present article, was given by Father John Lozano, already known to our readers as an author specializing in the history and theology of religious life. Father Lozano has taught at universities both here and abroad; he is presently superior of the Claretian house of studies in Chicago and teaches at the Catholic Theological Union there. He may be addressed at his residence: Claret House; 5540 S. Everett; Chicago, IL 60637. The following reflections are offered as a sort of aerial photograph of the most prominent features emerging on the landscape of the religious life. We will take a look at some of the main trends that seem to be shaping the future .of this landscape, and examine some of the main difficulties that its terrain presents for the religious traveler today. Many of these trends and difficulties seem to be closely interrelated. At the end of our survey we will concentrate on one major difficulty that seems to arise from causes that are more general than is sometimes supposed. I will be speaking mainly from the viewpoint of the northern hemisphere (North American and Europe), but my work in some other parts of the globe (Latin America, Australia and the Philippines) has shown that the same trends are emerging in broad areas throughout the Church. The rapidity of modern communications and the international outreach of books and reviews has tended to hasten the spread of ideas and attitudes from one continent to another. I base these reflections on my personal experience. During the last twenty years, which I have dedicated to studying the religious life and working with a broad spectrum of men's and women's religious communities, I have always striven to relate a theological vision of the religious life to the experiences that I 481 4119 / Review for Religious, July-August; 1983 and those I worked with were undergoing at the time. I have also had to pay close attention to what others were writing on these subjects. Naturally, my nearness to the phenomena I deal with (my own present) has been a somewhat mixed blessing: on the one hand, it has given me the immediacy of an "insider's" experience of these phenomena; on the other, it has been a real test of objectivity, since I had to write about them with a degree of passionate involvement. For this is a history we are all enjoying and suffering together~ In the exposition that follows, I have chosen not to separate trends in theology from trends in life, since common sense and all my previous work have shown them to be intimately related. There is no need to dwell on the particular circumstances that lead us to reflect on the present state of the religious life. It is a well-known fact that it is currently undergoing a serious crisis of growth and adaptation. Many are wondering if it really has a future,~ while a number of religious communities who have felt a sharp decrease in membership are worrying whether they will manage to survive. In view of these facts, it makes little sense to try to lay the blame for them on individual failures. What we are going through is a failure of institutions as such? This is not surprising if we bear in mind the profound technological and cultural changes that have taken place in our society, as well as the rapidity with which they have occurred and will continue to occur. The Second Vatican Council spoke of our times as a new epoch in history and tried to make the Church face up to it. In a memorable address to the Wes~on School of Theology, Karl Rahner stated that "the second Vatican Council is, in a rudimentary form still groping for identity, the Cl~urch's first self-actualiza-tion as a World Church.'~ Thus the third great epoch of the Church's history is beginning to open up, after the. very brief Judeo-Christian Epoch and the Occidental Epoch that started when Paul brought the gospel to the Gentiles and began incarnating it in their culture. The deep changes which this new epoch will bring, although they will surely be of great consequence for the Church, can as yet hardly be glimpsed. If the Church is already witnessing some of these profound changes, then the religious life, which in its various forms has always tried to respond to the needs of the Church, will itself have to undergo a necessary crisis of readjust-ment. That is why we simply have to reflect on what is going on. In dealing with the mosi general trends observable in the religious life today, it seemed appropriate to group them under the following six headings: 1) the centrality of the person, 2) the growing advocacy of women's rights, 3) the predominance of life over institutions, 4) ministerial openness to the world, 5) the reinterpretation of religious life, and 6) the problem of lifelong commitment. Finally, we will consider a single issue of great concern: the scarcity of vocations. 1. The Centrality of the Person The frequency with which certain aspects of religious life are discussed, and Trends in Religious I~fe / 411~ the way in which certain concrete situations are handled, reveal a growing tendency to regard the religious person as a central criterion. This theme has been the object of deep philosophical reflection by Christian thinkers during our century. In France, it was first dealt with by Jacques Maritain and then in a quite different way by Emmanuel Mounier. In Europe generally, the trauma of modern dictatorships--which made party or national loyalty the life-or-death criterion for the individual--also helped us see the dangers latent in the way some religious families viewed issues of solidarity and obedience. The trauma was a salutary one, because both the theoretical authoritarianism of anti-democrats like Charles Maurras and the practical authoritarianism of dictators like Mussolini, Salazar, Franco and Peron had no small influence in some ecclesiastical and religious circles. But since the time of John XXIII, a new definition of the common good has begun to leave its mark on magisterial teachings and statements.4 This definition regards the common good not as the sum of common goals (to which individuals are sacrificed), but as an environ-ment of freedom, peace and solidarity where persons may more readily achieve development and fulfillment. Even in the darkest hours of the past, no matter how much we conformed, somewhere in the back of our memory we could never quite let go of the Loi'd's saying that "the sabbath was made for human beings, not human beings for the sabbath," or of the pastoral axiom that "the sacraments are for persons." But clearly, our more democratic milieu and the institutional images it projects, together with the spread of the new psycholo-gies of personal development in Europe and North America, have made us more sensitive to this theme. 1.1. The Development of One's Own Talents. This is not only an important concern for individual religious, but also figures in a whole series of renewed constitutions. In the past, constitutions ordinarily asked community leaders to watch over the spiritual and physical welfare of their sisters and brothers.5 The new texts ask them to facilitate the overall growth of their sisters and brothers, whether on the level of psychological health, education or professional prepa-ration. 6 In fact, a number of the new constitutions speak of the overall growth of the religious, and make the community co-responsible with the individual in achieving this growth.7 The now-common secretariats and programs for con-tinuing formation and education point in the same direction. But individual religious share this concern. There is a general tendency to affirm oneself and develop one's gifts. This has had its effect on spirituality, which is viewed as a means for achieving one's full potential (holiness/whole-ness), and on the theology of the vows, which are viewed dynamically, as means to personal growth.8 The achievement of personal fulfillment was already a goal in the teaching of Aquinas and Bonaventure, who treated the vows as means for arriving at the perfection of charity,9 although greater stress is laid today on the overall aspect of maturity. One difficulty felt by many religious and frequently echoed in religious chapters and congresses, can be summed up in the question: How are one's 411~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 personal fulfillment and gifts to be related to the common good, aims and ministries of the institute?10 Theoretically, the issue seems clear enough. On the one hand, the members of every religious community share a common voca-tion and have received from God the same charism that was first given to their founder or foundress. On the other hand, each member is a different personal-ity, with different gifts that he or she has a duty to cultivate and make bear fruit. In short, it is a matter of a diversity of personalities being united in communion. We should perhaps note in passing that actual, absolute liberty, that is, the real possibility of developing one's personality to the maximum, simply does not exist. Every adult, even one who is single and free, has to build his or her existence within a limited gamut of possibilities, and always with some attendant sacrifices. No one, let alone a person committed to one or more persons in a family, in matrimony or in a celibate community, can work out his or her own development without reference to solidarity to others. Anyone who persists in trying to evade solidarity will end up psychologically warped or stunted. Individual religious must always be ready to make sacri-rices, and these sacrifices will definitely make them grow. However, on its part, the community cannot pursue its common good or goals through a systematic policy of sacrificing its members. The development and happiness of individual members carries over into the common good of the group. The concrete solution to this problem is to be sought and found in a sense of communion and real dialogue between the group (its representatives) and the individual. 1.2. Freedom. Isaac Hecker, with fine American sense, wrote that "a great and large freedom of action should be the spirit" of the Paulist community.~1 It is significant that the terms "freedom" and "liberty" occur so frequently in revised constitutions.'2 Of course, individual freedom of choice has always been required for acceptance into community. One was--and is--in community, out of a desire to be in community. But community and obedience were commonly seen from the viewpoint of sacrificing one's individual freedom. In the new type of community there is ample room for individual freedom and initiative. We have referred in passing to the disappearance of the disciplinary type of community that began forming in the 19th century, with its peculiar stresses in reaction to the French Revolution: a type of community dominated by uniformity in dress, in timetables and, in lay communities of women and men, in the kind of ministry practiced. The new constitutions contain few disciplinary regulations. The local community can now, ordinarily, determine its own internal norms and make its own decisions. The number of community acts, which were excessive in many communities founded in the last few centuries, has been reduced to a minimum. Not only religious men, but reli-gious women as well, now have to seek out their own ministerial works, rather than receive them passively from the community. Recently a sister told me: "We ourselves have to create our own jobs and living conditions." Obviously, this kind of freedom has its price. A religious must now make a real effort to maintain communion with his or her own group. Today's community tends to Trends in Religious Life / 4115 be seen in the light of unity in essentials, liberty in what does not affect the common values of religious lifeor the charism and spirit of the institute, and a definite effort at establishing a communion of love. Initially, the downfall of restrictive norms and community acts, together with the broadening field for autonomous, individual decisions, left a good number of religious with the impression that community life had all but disappeared. However, after a period of personal search, religious began to feel the need to return to a more intensely lived form of community, this time based on interpersonal relationships. More spontaneous and creative acts of common prayer began to appear. Nevertheless, there are quite a few men and women religious who have kept their liberty without managing to create com-munion. Of course, many religious live in community, in the sense that they come home to sleep under the same roof, share meals together and treat each other with respect. But the number of religious who are living alone, when they could be living in community, is somewhat notable. The fact that more women than men are living alone may be traced to a number of factors. For one thing, the number of men whose work is tied to institutions (parishes, schools, retreat houses) is proportionately greater. Moreover, women religious may have a greater psychological need for living alone. In the past, women's communities were far more restrictive than men's, and thus the reaction of the former has been that much stronger. Besides this, as we shall see in more detail later, all women, and religious women in particular, are struggling to emerge as persons, against the restrictions still imposed on them by the ecclesiastical community. 1.3. Pluralism in Community. This brings us to the subject of pluralism, which was so warmly debated in not a few chapters of renewal. In the past, there was a strong tendency toward uniformity. Everyone studied the same theology and followed the same methods of prayer. Each institute had a uniform theological or spiritual language. Today the great variety of theological positions in the Church is reflected within religious families, and often within the same reli-gious house. This affects the way we view the religious life and its objectives, and these different views are translated into different life-styles. Pluralism can immensely enrich our communities, provided it does not jeopardize essentials, thus weakening or undermining spiritual cohesion. But pluralism has now reached a transitional phase in which it can give rise to considerable suffering. Those who are inclined toward a more traditional type of life, to a distinctive habit, or to a more devotional form of piety, may suffer and feel lost among others who are leading a different type of life. Those who are inclined to a more personal life-style, with a more modem sensibility, often feel that they are the object of suspicion and insinuations. Theological plural-ism, above all for initiates, can cause acute moral suffering. We may some-times be offered an image of Christ, or a paradigm for relationships with Christ, that wounds our feelings. We might do well to recall that pluralism in freedom caused serious prob-lems for the tiny ecclesial communities of Paul, both on the theological level 41~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 (the role of the Law) and on the practical level (eating food offered to idols). Paul's recommendation was that all should practice a delicate charity toward one another. Those who felt more restricted should respect the conscience of others, while those who felt more free in these matters should exercise their freedom without inflicting unnecessary wounds on those of a different persua-sion. "Each of you should regard, not your own interests, but the other per-son's" (I Co 10:24). There are religious who worry too much about what others are saying or doing. And there are religious who speak and act without regard for the sufferings they may be causing others. After all, what good will our theology or our achievement of practical freedom do us ifthey are done without love? 1.4. Personal Ministries. In the past, congregations with the most priests prac-ticed two different types of ministries: one, institutional, in which the religious collaborated in a common work (schools, retreat houses, parishes), the other, personal (teaching in centers outside the institute, preaching, conferences, books). Lay communities of men or women were limited to working within their own institutions (hospitals, schools). In many women's communities and in some brothers' institutes, there is now a trend favoring personal ministries: counseling, spiritual direction and giving conferences. This has fundamentally modified the type of community life led in these institutes. We read also, for example, that the Franciscan Province of Santa Barbara has adopted, as a criterion of priority in assignments to ministries, the talents and availability of individual members, rather than the needs of existing institutions.13 This trend can be noted with lesser force in institutes that have a greater number of institutions (schools, parishes, hospitals). 1.5. Emphasis on Local Community. Partly because of this affirmation of the centrality of the person in societies and institutions, and partly because of the current stress on the Church as a communion that is realized above all in the local church, greater importance is being attached to the local religious com-munity. Many constitutions have changed the vertical presentation of their governmental structures from the once-common descending order (general government, provinces, local communities) to an ascending order (local, pro-vincial, general),~4 while even more constitutions affirm the primary value of the local community. In contrast with the mainly disciplinary content of former texts, the new ones bring out the theological and ecclesial meaning of the local community as a community of faith, worship and mission, and as the privileged locus of Christian communion.~5 1.6. Small Communities. Starting very soon after the Council, there was a growing emphasis on a trend that had already appeared in religious institutes founded a few decades earlier: the formation of small local communities with a family-like structure. Large communities that staffed various institutions (schools or parishes), or were at the service of some large institution (a univer-sity), began dividing up into small groups. Many factors motivated this shift: a Trends in Religious Life / 4117 desire to establish closer interpersonal relationships, an attempt to lessen the difficulties inherent in large-group interaction, a tendency to live closer to the people, and an endeavor to free the group from quasi-monastic structures. Paul VI dealt with this trend in his apostolic exhortation, Evangelica Testif!- catio,~6 noting that this type of community makes greater demands of its members. For one thing, in this setting the individual constantly emerges in face-to-face relationships that strongly reveal his or her good points and short-comings. Small communities demand better communication, greater respect for individual differences, and a more thoroughgoing effort to adapt oneself to others. In large communities it is easier to avoid communication and, above all, confrontation with certain community members. Interestingly enough, it is not just older persons accustomed to a more institutionalized type of life, but also younger religious less inclined to intimate communication, who prefer to live in larger groups. 1.7. Authority and Obedience. The Second Vatican Council, in its decree Perfectae Caritatis,17 clearly established principles for a deep renewal of the practice of authority and obedience as we had heretofore known it. Doubtless, the concepts expressed in this decree belong to the tradition of the religious life in its richest moments. Nevertheless, the emphasis on certain aspects of this tradition, such as "active collaboration," the service rendered by the commu-nity leader, the recommendation that the leader respect his or her fellow religious as sons or daughters of God and as human persons, the insistence on dialogue as an integral part of the unifying process of obedience (and not just as a last resort in facing difficult decisions)--all of these paved the way for a theological and practical reinterpretation of the leader's role, and of the nature of common obedience.~8 Even those institutes that have not modified their vertical structures of government have had to reread their constitutions with a new sensitivity.~9 The Council stated that the manner of governing religious institutes had to be examined and brought into harmony with the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious, with the needs of the apostolate, with cultural requirements, and with socioeconomic realities.20 The great majority of the revised constitutions of institutes founded in an age when another image of authority prevailed, have modified their systems of govern-ment by introducing dialogue prior to decision making, or have even left certain decisions to the group itself. Some constitutions have made the group the ordinary decision-making body in matters important to the local commu-nity. In Practice, there has also been a tendency to allow a wide margin for individual decisions and initiatives in matters that do not touch upon the life of the group. 2. The Emancipation of Women Closely related to the preceding theme (the value of the person as such), another trend has had a growing impact on religious life: the progressive 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 emergence of the religious woman, and her assumption of a public mission in the Church and in civil society. We are touching here on a painful topic: the struggle of women (and the Holy Spirit with them) to liberate themselves from a situation of confinement and subordination. No need to go into the details of Mary Ward's way of the cross, or the fate of the Ursulines after the death of Angela Merici, or the changes forced upon the Order of the Visitation, or the tremendous difficulties that Louise de Marillac and her Daughters of Charity had to face. As late as the 19th century, especially in France, every women's institute was forced to have a male ecclesiastical superior with powers equal and sometimes superior to those of the mother general. Some institutes were arbitrarily divided, and some foundresses were practically expelled from their own communities (Clara Pfaender, Bonifacia Rodriguez, Maria Rosa Zangara), or deposed (Jeanne de Lestonnac, Alix Le Clercq, Alfonsa Cavin, Rafaela of the Sacred Heart). Fortunately, circumstances have changed radi-cally and will continue to do so, as we shall see. 2.1. Emancipation. A large number of religious women are more or less fully committed to the feminist movement, and still more are deeply affected by it.2~ In the past every religious woman, upon reaching maturity, had to bring her femininity to bear on her milieu so to speak implicitly, by letting it shine through in her life and work (think of Teresa's influence on her theologian friends, or the changes Jeanne de Chantal brought about in Francois de Sales). Nowadays, however, the condition of women is explicitly posited and vindi-cated. In affirming their identity, religious women are bringing a new dimen-sion into spirituality and religious life in general: the feminine perspective?2 They not only are setting up a feminine symbology to counterbalance the overstated male symbology of religion (a function always at work in women like Clare of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Teresa of Jesus and Margaret Mary Alacoque), but are also discovering the feminine aspects of God (something rarely done in the past, although one can always point to the example of Dame Julian of Norwich). The arrival of large numbers of women in the once segregated halls of theology is bound to give rise to deep changes in the task of interpreting the experience of God. The theology of the religious life will surely have to take much more serious note of this phenomenon. 2.2. The Revision of Constitutions. Today, religious women are revising their own constitutions, sometimes with the help of outside experts, both men and women. We are getting farther and farther away from the days when men could write rules for women (Pachomius, perhaps Augustine, Caesarius of Arles, Leander), or when women had to adopt and adapt rules written for men's communities (Benedictines). There is an exquisitely feminine style and sensibility in not a few of the new constitutions. 2.3. Personal Ministries. With growing frequency, women are taking on per-sonal ministries not connected with their own institutions. They are teaching in outside centers, writing books, doing spiritual direction, directing retreats and Trends in Religious Life / 489 spiritual exercises, counseling, ministering in parishes, and so forth. Their influence is beginning to be strongly felt in male formation communities, by the balance they bring to young men who receive their information in an otherwise strictly masculine environment. This gives these men a more positive and educative,perception of the feminine image. 2.4. The First Apostolic Community. In our judgment, the women religious of North America have built the first fully apostolic feminine community in history. Many of them live in small groups not bound to institutions, and are dedicated to personal ministries. While men religious are frequently tied down to an ecclesiastical institution (parish, college), women religious, by the very fact of being non-ordained ministers, enjoy a greater freedom of movement. 2.5. Economic Dependence. This freedom is very relative, however, because many women religious are faced with the anguishing problem of economic dependence. Adding to the painfulness of this situation is the fact that the work they do is usually underpaid. Moreover, those women who do not have their own institutions must either depend on other institutions, or else become free-lancers at the mercy of fortune. A few.years ago, one mother general told me that her institute was unable to implement an option for the poor and the marginated because they depended for their sustenance on the salaries they received from the diocese, which did not allow enough for it. 3. Life Over Institutions Another clearly perceptible trend in today's religious life seems to be a distinct prevalence of a concept and an experience of a life lived simply, freely and creatively, over against more institutional forms of living. Significantly, the first schema on religious life submitted to the Second Vatican Council was overloaded with canonical-institutional vocabulary, reflected in its title: status religiosus--the religious state. It had obviously been drafted by.a group of conservative canonists and theologians. When this text was brought to the floor for discussion, the Council gave it h change of direction and chose to speak of the religious life, understood not as a sort of entity that could be classified and regulated, but as a life that is really lived. This trend is more apparent in Perfectae Caritatis (October, 1965) than in Chapter IV of Lumen Gentium (November, 1964~). But even in Lumen Gentium, the basis stated for both the religious state and form of life are the charisms of the Spirit,23 and the movement leading a Christian to consecrate his or her life to the service of God is described in similar terms.24 Perfectae Caritatis describes various con-crete aspects of this life which must be renewed and adapted to conditions as they really exist. This has been a recurring trend throughout history, especially during peri-ods of creativity. Basil and Macrina created fraternal groups, free of the unwieldiness of the Pachomian institutions that had formed in Egypt. Francis of Assisi was very traditional in his concept of the religious life ("to live 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 according to the Gospel"), yet he launched a project of profound renewal by distancing himself from existing monastic institutions. The Dominicans origi-nally followed this same trend. The first Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity, each in their own way, were simply Christian companions committed to serv-ice. A few decades ago, the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus returned to this simplicity, to a lived life and to creativity. The phenomenon we have been describing is now appearing under various forms. 3.1. The Fall of Structure. In most communities many structures have disap-peared. The 19th century left us a legacy of methods and detailed regulations for prayer, for the organization of our day, for work, etc. In Europe,.a number of founders went so far as to include a basic menu in their constitutions. As the monks of Solesmes had striven to unify liturgical rubrics against a welter of national liturgies, religious superiors strove to unify religious life with regula-tions and timetables. In today's ~onstitutions and community discussions, the emphasis is on the quality of life. Religious are concerned about the extent to which their real life constitutes a witness, now that neither uniform habits nor characteristic buildings nor special timetables distinguish them from the rest of the citizenry. Religious tend to "value more the influence of their life attitudes and personal witness than they do the impact of service to an institution.'~5 To put it another way, there is a sort of diffuse Franciscanism in our times, representing a desire to connect with the original and fundamental sense of the religious life: a life-style that is significant in itself. 3.2. Prayer. This same trend can be felt in the prayer life of religious. In the not-too-distant past, communities imposed numerous acts of community prayer, many of them devotional in character. Even personal meditation and spiritual reading were made into community acts. Some quite detailed methods of meditation were very popular. Apostolic communities have largely done away with these numerous community acts and have returned mental prayer to the responsibility and initiative of the individual. Initially, more than a few religious felt left in the lurch by all of this, so that one often heard the complaint, "We aren't praying anymore!" Others, on the contrary, looked upon the new approach as a license to improvise, and began to forget the lessons of the spiritual masters, lessons that were themselves the fruit of pro-longed experience. We believe that this situation has been largely corrected. Left in greater liberty, religious themselves have had to face up to their respon-sibility. But even here, some exaggerations exist. One sometimes gets the impression that some people regard prayer as a strictly private responsibility, despite the fact that constitutions clearly represent it as an essential life-trait for all members of the institute. Our prayer-life is a commitment we make to the community, and other members of the community have every right to be concerned when we give the impression that we are failing in prayer. 3.3. A New Understanding of Law. Another commonly observable trend is the new way in which the revised constitutions and rules of life are presented. A Trends in Religious Life / 491 little background may clarify this trend. In many texts submitted to the Holy See by 19th-century founders and foundresses, there was an overload of asceti-cal exhortations and a dearth of canonical structures. In reaction to this, the Roman Curia, around the turn of the century, issued its Normae secundum quas, excluding all these ascetical passages and adding the necessary structural sections.26 This had the unfortunate effect of reducing most constitutions to the bare bones of a canonical and disciplinary text, containing an abundance of precise norms on how to do things, on the practice of mortification, and on rules for cloister and silence. We were left with a code of precepts. In the new constitutions and rules of life, few norms remain, and those that do are canon-ical, almost to the exclusion of those of a purely disciplinary nature. In con-trast, these new texts give us a description of the vocation and spirit of the religious who belong to each institute. We have passed, so to speak, from a "decalogue" code of observances to a "beatitudes" rule of life; from a minimum we must observe, to a maximum toward which we must strive. Instead of observance, we now tend to speak of growing fidelity. Saint Thomas observed long ago that the twofold gospel precept of love (with all one's heart) is not something we fulfill here and now in an instant, but is rather a goal toward which we must constantly strive and tend. This is the evangelical vision to which the new rules of life invite us. Hence, for all their dearth of precepts, these new rules are on the whole more demanding. 3.4. Individual and Community Discernment. The greater freedom allotted to individuals and to local communities, the reinterpretation of the fundamental law as a description of vocation and spirit, and the relative absence of discipli-nary norms have all placed a greater burden of responsibility on local com-munities and their members. Local communities must frequently assume the role of discerning what is here and now God's salvific will for the group and its members. In this respect, the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has set a good example for us all. Speaking of the mission of the Jesuits today, the Congregation stated: "We must undertake a thoroughgoing assess-ment of our traditional apostolic methods, attitudes and institutions with a view to adapting them to the new needs of the times and to a world of rapid change. All this demands that we practice discernment, that spiritual discern-ment which Saint Ignatius teaches us in the Exercises. Moreover, discerning will yield a deeper grasp of the movements, aspirations and struggles in the hearts of our contemporaries."27 A little later, the decree restates the same idea: "What is required is not so much a research program as a process of reflection and evaluation inspired by the Ignatian tradition of spiritual discernment."~s The Ignatian practice of spiritual discernment, once largely restricted to circles of the Society of Jesus, has now become generalized to the point that it is present in all schools of spirituality. Recent bibliography abundantly bears out this development,~9 and we should all be glad of it. 3.5. A Blurred Image of Church. As we round out this section, we can hardly 492 Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 avoid mentioning one painful fact: the disinterest or distaste that some reli-gious feel toward the ecclesiastical institution. Francis of Assisi, who was called to rebuild God's tottering house, was distinguished from other leaders of poverty movements in his day by his fidelity to the Church's leaders.3° Saint Ignatius Loyola, another great religious reformer, recommended that we "feel with the hierarchical Church.TM Today, although most religious are strongly attracted to the Church as communion and mystery, a number of them tend to experience the Church institution as something alienating. The fact is that the image of the Church projected by Leo XIII, Pius X1 and Pius XI1 has largely disappeared, and new images are struggling to emerge. There is a significant amount of writing on various "models of the Church."32 We all know that institutions, in this earthly phase of things, are as necessary for the Church's presence and action as the body is for the self's. We must of course take care of the body and control it, since here, too, an overly heavy body can impede the action of the individual spirit. 4. Ministerial Openness to the World Another group of factors that seems to constitute a characteristic trend in today's religious life is the positive reevaluation of the world and of the reli-gious life as service to the Church and the world.33 Isaac Hecker introduced a typically American sensibility into spirituality by underscoring the positive character of the encounter of grace with our humanity, and by consistently speaking of this encounter in positive terms.3a The classic synthesis of Thomas Aquinas began to reappear with new accents. In the United States today, there are many spiritualities which evaluate the created world positively, and asso-ciate spiritual progress with overall progress (holiness/wholeness). In Europe, Louvain accustomed us to a theology of earthly values.35 In France, where great stress had always been laid on the Incarnation, a high value was placed on Christian presence among the masses (the priest-worker movement). Vati-can II, above all in Gaudium et Spes, gave us a realistic vision of the world that was rich in positive traits. John XXIII's Pacem in Terris decidedly opted for democratic social values. All of this has had its impact on the life of the Church. Secular Institutes are precisely secular institutions that aim at enliven-ing the human and civil "world" from within. The charisms of the religious life are now spoken of, not as gifts to help us flee from the world, but rather as gifts that enable us to penetrate the world more deeply, in order to transcend it. We no longer speak of afuga mundi, but rather of a penetration of the world, in order to induce it to return to its Creator, and transcend itself. Thomas Merton personified this "return to the world" movement in almost paradigmatic fashion. His early works, written at a time when he regarded the Abbey of Gethsemani as "the only real city in America,"36 reflect the critical reactions of a convert, as well as a somewhat elitist monastic theology. In Seeds of Contemplation (1949), the theme of a holy person's positive outlook on the world alternates with a negative view of the secular city from which the Trends in Religious Life / 493 Christian must strive to escape.37 In The Inner Experience (1959), his attitude toward contemplatives is more realistic, and the possibility of a lived expe-rience of God in the world emerges more clearly,as One can notice an effort to situate contemplation in the living context of everyday life. Contemplation means an indepth look at reality not in order to evade it, but in order to transcend it;39 it supposes a reading of events.4° The new chapter, "Solitude is Not Separation," added to New Seeds of Contemplation,4~ reveals at last a total contemplative openness to the world. Thomas Merton would soon become a prophet of peace and justice. The contemplative--as Teresa of Jesus had experienced long before Merton--is someone who brings the world, its agonies and its ecstasies, before God.42 This phenomenon has occurred frequently in the course 0~" history. We might, in fact, speak of a phasic alternation between periods of Incarnation and periods of Transcendence, although we should add that each swing toward the Incarnational pole has left us definitively closer to the world. The 12th century witnessed a cultural rebirth in which "nature" began to lose its sacral, symbolic value and gained some measure of autonomy.43 The married laity ceased being referred to as "children and weaklings who simply cannot embrace celibacy" (an oft-repeated phrase in earlier ecclesiastical texts),4~ and were instead spoken of as persons who profess the "common rule," that is, the Gospel. The Third Orders of the 13th century owe their existence, in part, to this change of mentality. In an early Franciscan legend, Madonna Povert~ (Lady Poverty) asks a group of Friars to show her their cloister. They lead her to the top of a high hill and show her the whole world, telling her: "This, Lady, is our cloister.-45 Then came what we generally call "the Renaissance," and we fell in love with the philosophers, writers and heroes of the Greco-Roman world. A positive and overly innocent view of the world infiltrated our con-sciousness. Jesuits made their residence in the midst of cities. More than a few institutes of the time chose not to take vows (Oratorians and Eudists). The Daughters of Charity dispers+d through the streets in peasant garb; for them, the world was the space in which the sons and daughters of God were suffer-ing. But there was also Luther's teaching on our "corrupted nature," and Bishop Jansenius and the Port Royalists held the dark view that every human value not explicitly elevated by a supernatural intention is simply sinful. Jansenism, with its excessive moral demands, had a baneful influence on the spirituality of religious. Finally, the trauma of the French and socialist revolu-tions filled religious leaders with fears and misapprehensions, so that they tended to stress the deep incompatibility between the Church and modern society. We were in urgent need of a return to the world. 4.1. A More Positive Vision of the World. For religious, too, the world is the ager dominicus, the Lord's field. It is the creation wounded by our sins, yet fundamentally good; the place where we must live our faith, hope and love, and in which we must work and suffer. This more positive, yet realistic vision of the world has positive consequences and gives rise to its own problematic. 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The distance between the religious and secular worlds has been shortened. The barriers of habits, special buildings and institutions filled with religious sym-bols, have largely fallen. This explains a number of recent developments. In the past, new forms of religious life inexorably fell under the influence of forms that had a longer and more prestigious history: Pachomians and Basilians became monks; canons regular and mendicants adopted a monastic or quasi-monastic way of life; apostolic congregations of women imitated cloistered nuns, etc. In our times, the trend seems to be running in the opposite direction: the traditional forms of religious life are getting closer to the life-style of secular institutes. We are referring here not merely to the absence of habits or the irrelevance of details that were once considered very important in Europe (such as not being allowed to enter a movie-picture theater), but to such truly important items as the near absence of community life or its reduction to a minimum, and to the growing trend toward working in secular institutions. The fact remains, however, that religious life, precisely because its witness is aimed at helping the world transcend itself, must not only incarnate itself in secular culture, but also act as a counterculture.46 Religious life accomplishes this essentially by actualizing the charisms that distinguish it as a form of Christian life: celibacy and community, with a public witness of poverty. Note that we say celibacy, not bachelorhood or the single state, since celibacy is understood as an exclusive commitment to the concerns of the Lord, and as a life lived for the love of the Lord. And this is extremely demanding. So also is the radical self-divestment which characterizes the Christian poverty of a reli-gious: a self-divestment that makes no sense at all except as an act of solidarity with the poor and the outcast. All of this must be reflected in our life-style, attitudes and options. 4.2. An Open Community. Our communities have opened up. The practice of hospitality has been greatly enlarged. Religious are praying and working with groups outside the community proper, thus creating a network of relation-ships. Many of us belong to prayer groups (charismatic or otherwise) or to pastoral teams.47 Monastery guesthouses, especially in the United States, are usually filled with other religious and laypersons who come there to pray. Some contemplative monasteries have opened up to share their prayer life with others on a more permanent basis. The Trappists of Our Lady of Guadalupe have established a Center for Contemplative Studies. The Carmel of the Resurrection in Indianapolis has opened its prayer life to a group of the faithful who pray there. Many small apostolic communities practice an aposto-late of presence by living among the poor. This is something that the mendi-cants strove to do in the 13th century, and which the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus reintroduced some decades ago. Obviously, such groups have to manage the difficult task of balancing their openness toward the rest of the Church with the special communion of charism and spirit they must keep among their own members. Trends in Religious Life / 495 4.3. Celibacy and Friendship. One effect of this more optimistic vision of the world and of the human person in the world has been the rediscovery of the positive and fully human vision of celibacy expressed in the New Testament. Although Jesus, in his logion about eunuchs (Mt 19:12), was defending a spiritual impotence caused by a strong commitment to the Kingdom, Paul tells us, .in a positive way, that being celibate for the sake of the Gospel consists in living lives exclusively dedicated to the concerns of the risen Lord (his Church, his poor), and for his love (1 Co 7:32-34). Celibacy is both a commitment and a relationship of love in which we can grow, and not simply a state defined by non-bonding to another person in matrimony,as The focus of today's religious has shifted, significantly, from chastity to celibacy as a way of life. From yet another point of view, the modern notion of the human being has highlighted (sometimes excessively) our sexual condition. Sexuality is rightly understood as a positive reality,49 in which affective balance plays an important part. Thus conceived, sexuality is being incorporated into a positive and inclusive vision of celibacy. It might be noted, in passing, that religious, like others in this rich culture which is concerned with overeating, also engage in sports and look after their body and physical appearance. But it must be admitted ihat the fall of barriers in this context (locked doors, permissions to go out, opened mail, the habit, etc.) also eliminated a series of social pressures aimed at protecting celibacy. Just as the permanence of marriages is now left to married couples themselves (since urban and indus-trialized society, unlike rural societies of the past, undermines rather than upholds the stability of marriage), so celibacy is left to the grace of God and the responsibility of the individual. The community can offer little help to those in crisis, except prayer and friendship. A positive evaluation of friend-ship has important consequences in this area. The husband-wife relationship is beginning to pale as the only model for male-female relationships. Friendships between religious and persons of the opposite sex (whether priests, religious or laity) are now more feasible and frequentP° This is, of course, not something completely new: a good number of saints, especially founders and foundresses, seem to have come in pairs. But now there is a greater awareness of the implications and values of friendship as a help toward celibate balance, which it indeed can be. But this is still fragile ground, because of the possibility of being "carried away," and because the word "friendship" often covers a number of relationships of diverse intensityPI The celibate is committed to live exclusively for the concerns of the Lord and for his love, and this rules out not just physical relationships, but also exclusive affective commitments. This means that certain affecfive needs of the celibate cannot be satisfied directly, but must be diverted into channels of loving service. 4.4. The Poor: the New "Desert. ,~2 Religious feel a lively interest and concern for the world of which they are part. This is quite apparent in questions of justice. In a host of ways, religious have been associated with works of charity 498 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 throughout history. But today there is a clearer consciousness that not a few evils have social roots, and that religious in a democratic society have a great opportunity to work collectively and individually in defense of the weak and the oppressed. Most of us (even religious dedicated to social works) inherited a vision of poverty that did not have much of an express or lived relationship to the poor of the world. It was a poverty fit for a neoplatonic or neopythagorean community: a poverty understood as a form of personal purification and as a means for arriving more readily at contemplation. The important thing was dependence on the superior, and great individual austerity. On an analogy with the Synoptic saying of Jesus, "Sell what you have and give to the poor" (Mk 10:21 and par.), one might say that the monks of the desert, who worked hard to support the poor, fulfilled the second part of the saying ("and give to the poor"), whereas later religious stressed the first part ("sell what you have"). In Evangelica Testificatio, Paul V1 brought the Church's teaching on religious poverty back to its origins by beginning the section on poverty with a call to hear "the cry of the poor.'~3 If all Christian poverty is a descent with Christ into the hell of human suffering--a participation in his kenosis (cf. 2 Co 8:9)54--then the testimonial poverty of religious should signal an abandonment of the world's logic and a crossing over its borders into the new desert which, especially in today's materialistic society, is constituted by the poor. A number of religious have abandoned their houses in middle-class neigh-borhoods and have gone to live with the poor in ghettoes. Whole institutes have declared in their chapters a preferential option for evangelizing the poor. Religious men and women have joined other Christians in their struggle for the liberation of the poor, especially in Latin America and the Philippines. In the United States, some religious have run for national or state office in defense of minorities, while others have been appointed to posts of particular social significance. Many U.S. religious are committed to a variety of social causes: disarmament, human rights in the Third World, the fights of the unborn, the rights of homosexuals, ecology, the struggle against a capitalism that would sacrifice human lives for economic gain (the Nestle boycott), and so forth. Here again, there are problems and difficulties. For one thing, it is easier for those living in well-to-do environments to protest abuses (as they must) than it is to protect themselves against the contagion of a consumerist society. Those who are truly and deeply committed to the defense of the poor know that they can carry out their work only by becoming poor themselves. Our poverty is also a protest against a materialistic interpretation of life, and hence must be manifested in personal and collective simplicity and austerity. Those who personally commit themselves to poverty run the risk of mere improvisa-tion, or of being manipulated by others. One thinks of the way certain reac-tionary thinkers have tried to use Mother Teresa of Calcutta, proposing her as an example of what all religious should be doing--which they interpret as "athering up the dying from the sidewalks (which is undoubtedly a heroically ~eautiful act of Christian love), and then leaving the world to the powers that Trends in Religious L~fe / 497 be (which would undoubtedly be an act of unChristian cowardice, since the one behind the "powers that be" is often Satan, the first murderer). Manipulation, though, is also practiced from a revolutionary viewpoint. There is a danger of becoming involved in partisan politics that pursue a determined type of society. The religious and the Christian as such do not have a distinctive political model, but only a set of fundamental principles (Pacem in Terris), according to which they raise their voice in protest against all forms that oppress and manipulate the sons and daughters of God. Great maturity is requi~ed for a commitment of this kind. One must be prepared to lose one's life: witness the example of our martyrs in Central America. 4.5. Serving in a Secular Milieu. With growing frequency, religious men and Women are making a commitment in various types of human service that are not specifically religious in nature, and are performed in a secular environ-ment. We are r~ferring here mainly to those religious who are engaged in the investigation and teaching of profane disciplines. Religious have been doing this for centuries, of course, but as an integral part of a ministry of Christian edui:ation that was meafit to culmin~ite in catechesis. Now, we encounter a new element in that these services are being carried on in the heart of secular centers. The impact of this environment and the great demand for professional preparation it calls for can profoundly affect the spirit of a religious. This is perhaps most true of religious who practice psychotherapy in its various forms. Here,/he "secular environment" is internal. The religious has to operate with a series Of symbols, vocabularies and techniques in which religious experience is often treated either in the Context of psychological aberration, or else (as with .lung) in that of a psychic activity that neither includes nor excludes grace. Helping one's neighbors in their psychological problems, or contributing to their overall growth as persons, is just as religious an activity as helping cure their bodies, but it can create difficulties for religious therapists. Oftentimes they are living in an environment quite different from a traditional religious community, which was pervaded by religious symbols and community acts. In such cases, religious will often have to struggle in order to integrate their professional service into the framework Of their community's proper spiritual-ity. Service also tends to change meaning for religious who work as medical or nursing personnel in modern hospitals, with their intense activity and the difficulties they present for establishing personal relationships with the sick, since there are so many to attend, and the turnover is so rapid. 5. Religious Life Reinterpreted 5.1. A More Profound Notion of the Religious Ltfe. The Second Vatican Council, by setting its teaching on the religious life squarely in the context of the life of the Church and of the universal call to holiness, forced theologians to rethink this particular vocation. A significant index of this rethinking is reflected in a change in the bibliography on the religious life. During the first half of this century, it focused on canon law and ascetical conferences or 49~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 retreats for religious; from the Council onwards, bibliographical entries of a theological character began to multiply. New Testament exegesis began to put question marks after the texts on which some founders had based their move-ments. Often enough, disturbingly, exegetes answered these questions in the negative: "This is not what these biblical texts were saying." Moreover, the full incorporation of the secular laity into the life and holiness of the Church obliged us to rethink the relationship that exists between the call to the reli-gious life and the general call to perfection, as well as that which exists between religious life and secular life. In more than one case, the Council had felt obliged to use categories drawn from Scholasticism, in a clear effort at expanding its teaching. Concomitantly, however, scholars were at work compiling critical studies of the sources of the religious life (Pachomius, Basil, Augustine, the anonymous author of the Regula MagistrL Benedict, Francis, early Jesuit texts, etc.). These historical investigations have given us a much better knowledge of the development of the religious life. The works of Tillard, Boff, Sebastian, Moloney and others, as well as the publications of the Religious Life Institutes in Rome and Madrid, and those of the Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality (to all three of Which I have made my personal contribution), are developing a work of synthesis that has become necessary. 5.2. Religious Life: a Parable of Discipleship. In Lumen Gentium and Perfec-tae Caritatis, the Second Vatican Council abandoned the notion of "state of perfection," which had somehow crept into Sacrosanctum Concilium (the Constitution on the Liturgy), written in the period before the council began to reflect expressly on the religious life.55 All Christians are committed to growth in the perfection to which they are called in baptism, confirmation, the Eucha-rist and reconciliation, and (for some) eventually in matrimony. The religious life is no longer to be thought of as the only state in which one professes to be tending toward perfection. In Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life, I tried to demonstrate how religious life is a form of disciple-ship, and that the significance of the religious life consists in its being a living parable of the Gospel for all. As a form of life, the religious life is summoned to remind all Christ's disciples of the demand to follow him. It is a type of prophetic life, neither more nor less. This leaves room for secular Christians to achieve the full stature of their incorporation into evangelical spirituality. For the important thing is not the parable, but the lived life of the Christian way, to which the parable points. 5.3. Return to Charism. Another important aspect of contemporary religious life is the fact that, thanks mainly to the invitation of Perfectae Caritatis, religious institutes, especially in their chapters of renewal, have set about reflecting on their own charisms. These institutes now seem to have a far better knowledge of their vocation and spirit in the Church. The Church itself is enriched by this variety of charisms. The popes have frequently referred to this Trends in Religious L~fe / 499 theme in discussing the identity of religious families. 5.4. Turning Toward Others. Nevertheless, something new is happening. A few years back, religious institutes often gave the impression of being overly exclu-sive in promoting their own interests. There was too much insistence on "our own." Today, religious communities collaborate with one another in common novitiate programs. There are theologates (the Central Theological Union in Chicago and the General Theological Union in Berkeley are obvious exam-ples) in which students from various institutes study, pray together and inter-relate in many ways, thus mutually enriching one another without losing their identity. And there are numerous religious institutes collaborating in apostolic works, both with one another and with lay team members. The sense of belonging to the one Church of Christ is thus manifested in a forceful manner. 6. Lifelong Commitment One aspect which involves considerable suffering for many religious, and which is brought up with some frequency in public meetings and private conversations, is the meaningfulness of a perpetual commitment to the reli-gious life, and even the legitimacy of norms that impose this sort of commit-ment toward the end of one's initiation or formation. Obviously, the discussion of this theme is less related to the influence of any specific philosophy than it is to the fact that our society seems to be much more sensitive to change than to continuity. In our society, for several different reasons, it is not rare for persons to change careers at a certain age. Even marriage seems to be becom-ing more fragile.~6 6. I. A Personal Commitment. In contradistinction to a one-time or short-term commitment to do some thing, a commitment to a type of life is a personal project that requires a certain amount of time to make. Human beings develop gradually. A promise or decision to be celibate or to live for the love of someone else for just a fewdays or weeks would really be tantamount to a commitment to do some thing, rather than a life decision to be a determined type of man or woman. The commitment to love is, of its very nature, indefi-nite as to time. It tends to be projected over a whole lifetime. The fact is that, when a human being loves or chooses to give himself or herself on a deep level, he or she cannot include the idea of a temporal limit in such a choice (although there may be an implicit recognition of the possibility of failure), since this would be restricting one's love or self-gift. By making a commitment of one-self, a person aims at putting his or her love above time and its changes. 6.2. A Commitment to God. A commitment to the religious life entails a commitment to build one's life with an orientation toward certain religious ideals: living in a particular way, in celibacy and in community. Here, the depth of human commitment is at its greatest, since it is gauged by a relation-ship with God. In this case, understandably, our intention must exclude every temporal limit, even when we are making a temporal commitment. We want 5lll~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 to be this type of Christian and human being on the deepest level, before God and in the Church. This is a quite different kind of commitment than that made by a person who would simply like to be associated with the life, spirituality and ministry of a religious community for a set period of time. One thinks, for example, of the existing practice in Thailand whereby all boys, as a sort of analogue of military service, must spend several months in a Buddhist monastery. This sort of procedure might well be adopted, in a more systematic way, for certain types of associates of Christian religious communities. But this kind of temporal commitment, even when made on a more conscious and voluntary basis, would never suffice to constitute the person making it a religious. Our temporal vows are truly vows, to the extent that the person making them has the intention of orienting his or her whole life in this manner. 6.3. A Statement of Commitment. The real problem here refers to the public formulation of this intention to make a perpetual commitment. To express ourselves publicly and socially is an essential trait of our human nature, which never exists in a vacuum of pure interiority, but tends to unfold itself in explicit relationship with others. We already made our perpetual commitment when we responded to our vocation, before entering a community. We made it with a certain tension, with some misgivings, and sometimes even with anguish; yet we entrusted our weakness to the grace of the God who called us. On profess-ing, we renewed this response to God, but this time we did so publicly, before God and through the community, we committed ourselves to God through this community. Our commitment, then, took on an ecclesial character. This was normal and as it should be because promising to be celibate, to live in evangelical poverty and in community is not just an act that relates us directly to God. Rather, it is an act that relates us to God in his Church. Celibacy is not just the love of God, but also a great love of his sons and daughters. This does not rule out our foreseeing possible failures, or even the hypo-thetical possibility that certain experiences and circumstances might make us change. This commitment is made by human persons, with the understanding that they are expressing their actual intention, in the hope that this intention will perdure. But since fidelity in this matter is the work of grace, we place all our forces in God's hands. A religious vow or promise is at once a manifesta-tion of our intention and a petition for grace: "This is what I intend to be, so help me God." The person who makes a vow can change, can fail, or can discover that this was not to be his or her permanent vocation. There are canonized saints who, after years of profession, left their communities when they discovered that God was calling them along another way. For all these reasons, the Church wisely grants dispensations from these commitments. A dispensation dissolves the canonical aspects of one's commitment, leaving the person with his or her responsibility before God intact. Upon receiving their dispensations, these Christians remain in God's presence, just as they did at the time they believed Trends in Religious Life they had received a call from God and answered it. 7. A Prophetic Minority? The aerial photograph we promised at the beginning of this survey is not yet complete. We still need to include in it one of the most visibly preoccupying concerns for many religious and for the Church's ministers: the scarcity of vocations to the religious life which we are presently experiencing. There is no need for us to go into statistical details. All we have to do is to look at the inexorably upward trend in the median age of the members of most religious communities in the northern hemisphere. We can only suppose that what we are looking at is precisely a lack of vocations (God is calling fewer men and women to the religious life), and not a lack of correspondence to a wider call. We must suppose this, both because we do not have access to the heavenly archives, and because we find it hard to believe that human beings are cur-rently putting up a greater resistance to grace than they did in the days when our houses were filled to the rafters. One fact confirms us in our rejection of an unduly pessimistic view of the present generation: the growing number of vocations to the ministry outside the clergy and outside religious institutes. People continue to cite a whole litany of causes in order to explain the current dearth of candidates for the religious life: economic reasons (greater opportunities exist elsewhere today); social reasons (secularized environment, lowered prestige of the religious state, easier relations among young people of both sexes, sexual liberation, smaller families of the "one girl-one boy" type); psychological reasons (the identity crisis of religious makes religious life less attractive; pessimism or a lost sense of belonging leads religious to work less at promoting vocations); theological reasons (the religious life is not the only state for attaining Christian perfection). We would not like to indulge in a discussion of the many reasons alleged to explain this phenomenon. We would, however, like t.o point out that we are not talking about a scarcity of persons who want to enter a religious community, but about the considerably smaller number of persons who show clear signs of having a true vocation to the religious life. All you have to do is run a few ads in the right publications, and you will soon be swarming with requests. Some of these aspirants very soon reveal data that indicate their unfitness for the religious life. A few more serious cases must be rejected somewhat later, either after psychological testing or afte~ a few days of shared life. Present-day religious life requires stronger and more balanced personalities than was the case in the past. Formerly, less well-balanced personalities could be kept in line by a tougher practice of authority and by the more disciplinary type of community that then prevailed. Permit me to make a few observations. Until two or three decades ago, becoming a priest or a religious was the only route that enabled a Christian to consecrate his or her life to ministry in the Church. Of course, there were many Christians who were dedicated to charitable Works and catechesis on a part- 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 time basis. But if they wanted to orient their whole life to one of these minis-tries, they had no recourse but to become priests or religious. The need was even greater in the case of women, since they did not have a choice between secular priesthood and the religious life. Any woman who wanted to commit her life to a ministery of charity or catechesis, had to become a religious. The call to one was automatically interpreted as a call to the other. But today it is possible, though at times difficult, for a Christian to be committed to a minis-try without becoming a priest or a religious. In the past, every time a new form of religious life, better adapted to the conditions of the time, appeared, there tended to be a diminution of candidates for the forms that had prevailed up to that time. Before the 12th century, Europe had numerous monasteries; next, it witnessed the rise of whole armies of mendicants; at length, the mendicants had to share the scene with clerks regular. Also in Europe, until about the middle of the last century, there were cloistered convents in most middle-sized towns. But with the foundation of numerous apostolic congregations for women, the number of cloistered con-vents diminished considerably. Today, secular institutes and other associations of Christian life have appeared on the scene. Moreover, the Church has begun to open up its ministries to laypersons who have no connection with any institution. This must necessarily lead to a reduction in the number of candi-dates for the religious life. Hence, we should not be talking about a lack of vocations in an unquali-fied way, because the Spirit of the Lord is continuing to call Christians of all sorts to a whole gamut of commitments. We should joyfully accept the Spirit's will. It is quite possible--given our inveterate resistance in this respect--that the only way the secular laity will be able to take their rightful place in the Church's ministry will be through a considerable reduction in the number of priests and religious. Hard as some of us may find it to accept these persons on equal terms, despite their manifest charisms and responsibilities, the Spirit of the Lord may oblige us to accept them out of necessity. Does this mean that religious life in its traditional forms is destined in the future, even more than in the present and the past, to become a minority life-style? That is certainly a possibility, although we would not like to hazard such a prediction. Because history has passed through so many ups and downs, turns and returns, visions and revisions, it ill becomes a historian, who has a hard enough task sorting out the vagaries of the past, to presume to know the future. But if things did happen to turn out in the way we have hypothesized, there would be nothing to be surprised at. After all, we have described the religious life as a prophetic calling. And isn't a truly prophetic mission always and essentially a minority calling? Trends in Religious Life NOTES ~Thomas Dubay offers one answer in What is Religious ~fe? Questions Religious are Asking (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, 1979), pp. 32-34. See C. Maloney, "Evangelization and Social Change," Religious and the Evangelization of the World, Donum Dei Series, no. 21 (Ottawa: Publications of the Canadian Religious Conference, 1974), p. 63. See also B. Boyce, C.SS.R., "A Sociological Appraisal of the New Trends," New Trends in Religious L~fe, Donum Dei Series, no. 14 (1969), p. 135. 2Thaddre Matura, O.F.M., The Crisis of Religious l_zfe (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974). 3Karl Rahner, S.J., "Toward a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican I1,~ Theologi-cal Studies 40 (1979), p. 717. 4John XXIII, Mater et Magistra, AAS 53 (1961), p. 417. Gaudium et Spes, no. 74, Vatican Council I!: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1975), p. 981. ~Constitutions S.J., ch. IV, 10, no. 5; Claretian Constitutions (1865), I, no. 31. sViatorians (1979), no. 52; de La Salle (1976), no. 140. I; Precious Blood Sisters, O'Fallon, p. 54; Combonians (1979), no. 103; Christian Brothers, (E. Rice), no. 247. 7Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, no. 26; Marianists, Rule of l_zfe (1981), no. 39; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17. See especially Sisters of Mercy, Covenant, Fellowship and Total Growth, pp. F 4-5; Combonians, no. 42. 8This idea forms the background for the sections on the vows in many revised constitutions. 9St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q. 184 a 3; q. 188 a 2; St. Bonaventure, Apologia Pauperum, ch. 3, no. 3. See Lumen Gentium, no. 44, Flannery, pp. 403-.404. ~0The theme of varidus personal gifts appears frequently in the new constitutions. See Sisters of St. Joseph, Core Constitutions, no. 38; Combonians, Rule of Life, nos. 38. I, 42; de La Salle (1976), p. 36; B.V.M., no. 3; Marists (1968), no. 51; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17; St. Joseph of Peace (1981), p. 6; Ursulines of Belleville (1982), no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 10. ~Cited in Paulist Provisional Constitutions (1970), no. 9. ~2Society of the Precious Blood, no. 39; Sisters of Mercy, Core Constitutions, p. 27; 31st Congre-gation of the Society of Jesus, Decree 17, no. 7 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 161. ~3Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M., ~lllustrations of Fundamental Choices and Their Consequences," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), p. 187. ~4Claretians, no. 102 ff.; Piarists, no. 131 ff.: Combonians, no. 105 ft.; School Sisters of Notre Dame, II, no. 8 ff.; Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, no. 25 ft.; Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, no. 138 ff. ~Scalabrinians, no. 10; Society of Mary, no. 34 ff.; Society of the Precious Blood, no. 6 ft. 16No. 40, Flannery, pp. 698-699. 17No. 14, Flannery, pp. 619-620. ~SThe vocabulary of the revised constitutions on this theme, and the very horizons on which they move, reveal a new sensibility. When one compares them to the relevant sections in Petfectae Caritatis, one sees that the latter opened but a single door. A smaller number of constitutions chose to remain within the limits in which the conciliar decree moves. tgSee Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 17, pp. 157-166. z°Perfectae Caritatis, no. 3, Flannery, p. 613. 2~J. Doyle, B.V.M., "Choose Life," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), pp. 28-31. ~2See M. Linscott, "The Religious Woman in the Church,~ Way Supplement 19 (1973), pp. 45-62. 23No. 44, Flannery, pp. 402-403. ~lbid., pp. 403-405. Z~Hakenewerlh, art. cit., p. 186. 26"Normae secundum quas S. Congregatio Episcoporum et Regularium procedere solet in approbandis novis lnstitutis votorum simplicium." Published by Ladislaus Ravasi, C.P. in De Regulis et Constitutionibus Religiosorum (Roma: Desclee, 1958), pp. 188 ft. To be excluded 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 from the constitutions: quotations from the Holy Scriptures, Councils and Fathers. (n. 27), ascetic instructions, spiritual exhortations, mystical considerations (no. 33). 27Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979), Decree 4, nos. 58-59, p. 413. 2sPoid., no. 74, p. 436. ~9Scanning the bibliography on discernment during the last 15 years (published by the Religious Formation Conference), I have counted I I articles in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ! I in Way Sup-plement, 3 in Sisters Today, and 2 each in The Way and Spiritual Ltfe. 30Saint Francis of Assisi, Rule 1221, Foreword and Cho 19; Rule 1223, ch. I; ch. 9; Testament. See Writings and Early Biographies (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), pp. 3 I, 46, 57, 63, 67. 3~Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "To have the true sentiment which we ought to have in the Church Militant," Ist Rule. See David L. Fleming, The Spiritual Exercises (Saint Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 230. 32See Avery Dulles, S.J., Models of the Church (Garden City, NY, Doubleday, 1974). 33Cardinal Suenen's The Nun in the World (Westminster: The Newman Press, 1963), an invita-tion to the renewal of women's religious life issued during the Council, started with a chapter on the world, followed by a chapter on women and their emancipation. The book was highly successful in its time. ~See Martin Kirk, C. M. F., "The Spirituality of Isaac Thomas Hecker: Reconciling the American Character and the Catholic Faith" (doctoral dissertation, Saint Louis University, 1980). 3~See Gustave Thils, Theologie des Realitbs Terrestres (Bruges: Desclre de Brouwer, 1946). An epoch-making book. By the same author: Christian Attitudes (Chicago: Seepper, 1959), 96 pp. 3rThe Secular Journal, April 7, 1941, (New York: Noonday, 1977), p. 183. 37Seeds of Contemplation (Norfolk: New Directions, 1949), pp. 20-23; 60-61. 3gTexts from the Inner Experience published by William H. Shannon, Thomas Merton's Dark Path, The Inner Experience of a Contemplative (New York: Farrar-Straus-Giroux, 1981), pp. 136-141. 3gIbid., p. 131. 4°Ibid., p. 124. a~New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1974), pp. 52-63. 4~Saint Teresa of Jesus, Way of Perfection, 1,2; 3, I; Mansions, Epilogue, 4. 43M.-D. Chenu, O.P., Nature, Man and Society in the Twelfth Century (University of Chicago Press, 1968). 44See John M. Lozano, C.M.F., Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1980), pp. 49-53. *s Sacrum Commercium, no. 63, St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), p. 1593. 46John F. Kavanaugh, S.J., has given particular attention to this theme in his Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1981), pp. 131-142. ~TThe Constitutions of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first chapter, contain this significant text on the new attitude: "Since we participate simultaneously in various communities--the world community, the Christian community, the entire B.V.M. community and the local community--it is the responsibility and privilege of each sister to'contribute to each of these communities according to her gifts and circumstances" (no. 3). ~See Lozano, op. cit., pp. 142-170. ~9Marc Oraison, The Celibate Condition and Sex (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967). See D. Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1975); K. Clarke, O.F.M. Cap., An Expe-rience of Celibacy (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Mafia, 1982). ~°Also significant is the number of articles published lately on friendship between religious and persons of the opposite sex they are oriented to. In Sisters Today, M. Neuman, O.S.B., has published two articles (October 1974 and November 1976), and J. Becker has published one (May 1979). In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOrdS. 1 counted four: C. Kiesling (July 1971), T. Dubay (November 1977), B. O'Leary (March 1980) and V. Peter (March-April 1982). There is another by Y. E. Raguin in Way Supplement 19. Trends in Religiou~ Life / 505 s~Some constitutions and complementary statutes now speak positively of the relationship between friendship in general and celibacy: Marianists, Rule ofl_zfe, 11, no. 2.4; Piarists, no. 57; Sisters of Charity of the B.V.M., no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 13; Sisters of Saint Joseph of Lagrange, Working Document (1979), no. 42. Some texts treat of the relationship between celibacy and friendship with Christ: Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 15, no. 8, p. 152; Combonians, no. 26.1. Or they speak of friendship as the fruit of celibacy: Jesuits, op. cir., pp. 152-153; Brothers of the Christian Schools, 5d. Or they view friendship as a defense of celibacy: Jesuits, ibid. Other texts restrict their remarks to friendships within the community: Stigmatines (1982), no. 15; Holy Cross (men), no. 65; Scalabrinians, no. 80. s2Sce A. Cussianovich, S.D.B., Religious Life and the Poor (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1979). S3Evangelica Testificatio, no. 17, Flannery, p. 688; Sacrosanctum Concilium, nos. 98, 101. ~See Lozano, op. cir., ~Poverty and the Kenosis of Christ,~ pp. 191-192. ~SSacrosanctum Concilium, no. 98, 101 (December 4th, 1963), A. Flannery (pp. 27, 28) translates "religious. ~ ~6On this theme, see T. Matura, O.F.M., op. cit., pp. 72-78. The Religious as Witness The new society of love cannot be built in the future if the quality of love does not change. You are the privileged sign of this new love destined to change the world. Your love, "different" from other loves, is the image of God's love. And so your life, evangelically lived and donated, becomes, through your sincere and pure love for mankind, a convincing witness of the love of the Father who is in heaven. Here is your role in the Church. your most authentic vocation. And it is in this way that you, like Mary who believed in the word and the love of the Lord, contribute to the mission of Jesus to create the new world. And that you may live and give Christ's charity more fully, the Church exhorts you to return to the authentic spirit of the founders, to their intentions and to wholesome traditions.--John Pdul 11, To the Women Religious in Albano, 19 September, 1982. L'Osservatore Romano, 11 October, 1982, p. 5. Constitutions and the Revised Code of Canon Law David F. O'Connor, S.T. Father O'Connor is Chairman of the Department of Church Law at The Washington Theologi-cal Union. He resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Ave.; Silver Spring, MD 20903. On January 25, 1983, Pope John Paul II promulgated the revised Code of Canon Law, effective as the universal law of the Church for the Latin Rite on November 27, 1983, the First Sunday of Advent. While the revised Code contains nothing startling or surprising in its treatment of the consecrated life, it does bring a needed stability with its clearly stated practical ecclesial expecta-tions concerning post-Vatican II religious life. The canons reassert many of the things stated already by the Fathers of Vatican 11 and in the documents of the post-Conciliar Church. An examination of the canons and their b~i~kground manifests a fidelity to the theology of these ecclesial documents. The 1983 revised Code states in canons 578 and 587 that the constitutions must faithfully express and preserve the mind of the Founder, the spirit and character of the institute, its nature, purposes and wholesome traditions, as part of its patrimony. The constitutions must also contain those fundamental norms required by the Church for the governance of the institute, the discipline of its members, the content of the vows, as well as those norms necessary to express the formation and incorporation of its members and the proper order-ing of the institute. They should fittingly combine both spiritual-ascetical ele-ments with the practical-juridical ones (canon 587 § 3). Once approved, this fundamental code can not be changed without the consent of the proper ecclesiastical authority (canon 587, § 2). Ecclesial Approbation of Religious Institutes and Their Constitutions Through the formal ecclesial approbation .of the constitutions or funda- 506 Constitutions and the Revised Code / 5117 mental book of each institute, the authority of the Church brings into existence the institutes as an ecclesial body or confirms it if it is already established. Constitutions have always been of great importance to institutes because they are particular and specific to each religious family. They help articulate the identity, mission and life-style of the institute and its members. Unfortunately, in the early part of the century this uniqueness was often overshadowed and submerged when constitutions were forced into an excessive conformity with other norms. As a result, there was an inappropriate similarity between many of the constitutions because they were saddled with details, secondary ele-ments, minutiae and multiple regulations which made them all somewhat identical in style and content and overly rigid in form. This was due principally to the Normae of 1901. Consequently, constitutions appeared to be only a verbatim repetition of those norms so that their individuality was lost. This pattern was altered by the Vatican II revisions required by Perfectae caritatis, 3 and 4, and Ecclesiae sanctae, If, 6-11. Fundamentally the revised Code reaffirms the place of religious institutes as progeny of the Church and gifts of the Holy Spirit (canons 575 and 577). In accordance with Lumen gentium, 43, the Code states that it is the authority of the bishops which, recognizing the work of the Spirit, brings into ecclesial existence the various religious institutes (canon 573). It is the right and duty of the pastors of the Church, the bishops, to interpret the evangelical counsels and determine how they are to be practiced and lived by those in the conse-crated life (canon 576). It is this hierarchical recognition which guarantees that the members are living a gospel life which contributes to the building up of the Church (canons 576 and 577). Historically, those groups of pious and well-meaning people who did not receive, or lost ecclesial approbation, often ended up in some form of spiritual aberrancy, schism or heresy, such as the followers of Peter Waldo or the Fraticelli of the middle ages. Today, those religious who are inclined to question the necessity of their affiliation with the pastors of the Church may risk a similar fate. Effect of the Revised Code With the revised Code going into effect, the 1917 Code and all other general or particular disciplinary laws of the Church which are contrary to or treat the same matter as the 1983 Code are abrogated (canon 6, § l) as of November 27, 1983. Therefore, many of the things which were in the 1917 Code no longer are part of the revised Code and are not required to be in the constitutions or the proper law of institutes. For example, nothing is required regarding a period of postulancy, a dowry, or the necessity to have the local Ordinary or his delegate at the election of certain superior generals, as was required in the 1917 Code. This means that institutes will have to determine for themselves whether or not they want to retain some of these things as part of their own law. The retention of some period of"postulancy" may seem to be a prudent and wise one. However, each institute is free to determine this for 508 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 itself. If an institute decides to do so, the matter becomes what canonists refer to as praeter ius, something that is required by the proper law of the institute which goes beyond the requirements of the universal law of the Church. Competency of the Roman Congregations Even though the 1983 Code abrogates all existing disciplinary law when it concerns matters which are treated in the revised Code, this does not imply that the dicasteries of the Apostolic See cease to enjoy a certain authority to make requirements not contained in the universal law. For example, the Sacred Congregation of Religious and Secular Institutes could require some-thing the 1983 Code does not require. In the approval of new constitutions, the SCRSI can require that the essential profession formula of an institute appear in the proper law of that institute. Simply because the universal law does not require this to be done does not imply that it is beyond the competence of SCRSI to do so. Also, the SCRSI certainly retains some competence to make exceptions to requirements of the universal law. Possibly, even though the new Code requires that religious profess vows and not promises (canon 607, § 2), the SCRS1 may be able to grant an exception to a particular institute which can make a good case for retaining a practice which it had during the post- Vatican II period when experimentation was permitted. The Principle of Subsidiarity and the 1983 Code of Canon Law One of the outstanding characteristics of the revised Code is its application of the principle of subsidiarity. As a principle, subsidiarity means that matters should be treated and decisions made at the level which is the most appropriate one. The most appropriate level may not be the lowest one. Whatever level is judged to be the most appropriate will also be the level of responsibility and accountability. The revised Code, therefore, unlike the 1917 Code, very fre-quently states that certain matters are to be determined by proper law. In regard to institutes of the consecrated life, the canons of the Code often state that a specific matter be treated in the constitutions or in the ius pro-prium, the proper law, of the institute. While the proper law will often be, in fact, the secondary or complementary books (Directory, Statutes), the term proper law does not exclude the constitutions or the fundamental book. There-fore, when the canons state that the proper law is to determine the matter, it means that the institute can decide to treat the matter in the constitutions and/or the directory. However, when the canons state that the matter is to be treated in the constitutions, it must be in the constitutions, even though it also may be elaborated upon in the directory. What follows is my paraphrasing of excerpts from the canons of the revised Code from the section on Institutes of the Consecrated Life (Book II, Part III, Section I, Titles I and II, ChaPters 1-6), which require, or leave the option for, complementary legislation in the constitutions or the proper law of-an institute. They are meant to be of aid to those religious institutes which are Constitutions and the Revised Code / 509 preparing their constitutions for submission to ecclesiastical authority for approbation, as well as those institutes which have their constitutions apiaroved already, but may have to make adjustments to bring them into harmony with the revised Code. The reader is advised that these do not attempt to paraphrase the complete canon in every case, but only that part which refers to material which must or may be treated in the constitutions or proper law. Canons Requiring Complementary Legislation in the Constitutions or Proper Law 1. Canons Concerning Norms Common to All Institutes C. 578. The mind of the Founders and their plans, ratified by the competent ecclesiastical authority, about the nature, purpose, spirit and character of the institute and its wholesome traditions, all of which constitute the patrimony of the institute itself, must be observed faithfully. (These are among the things which must be in the constitutions according to c. 587, § 1.) C. 581. The constitutions are to determine the competent authority who may divide the institute into parts, join parts, erect new ones or make other such arrangements. C. 587, § 1. In order to protect more faithfully the particular vocation and identity of the institute, the constitutions or fundamental code of an institute must contain and preserve, besides those things stated in can. 578, the fundamental norms about governance of the institute and the discipline of members, the incorporation and training of members, and the proper object of the sacred bonds. C. 587, § 3. Spiritual and juridical matters are to be suitably joined together; moreover, norms are not to be multiplied unless it is necessary. C. 587, § 4. Other norms established by the competent authority of the insti-tute may be appropriately collected into other books which are to be reviewed and adapted to the needs of times and places. C. 596. The authority of superiors and chapters is to be defined in the consti-tutions as well as by the universal law of the Church. C. 598. The constitutions are to define the manner in which the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience are to be lived in the institute. Members are to live the counsels according to the proper law of the institute. 2. Canons Concerning Religious Houses C. 609, § 1. Religious houses are erected by the competent authority as deter-mined in the constitutions, after having received the consent of the diocesan bishop in writing. C. 613, § 1. A religious house of canonical regulars and monks under the authority and care of its own superior is autonomous, unless the constitutions state otherwise. C. 616, § 1. The suppression of a religious house by the Superior General must ~i10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 be done according to the constitutions and only after the diocesan bishop has been consulted. 3. Canons Concerning Government in the Institute C. 617. The role of a superior is determined according to the proper law of the institute, as well as the universal law of the Church. C. 622. A superior general has power over the whole institute, its provinces, houses, and members, exercising it according to the proper law of the institute; other superiors have power within the limits of their roles. C. 623. In order that members be validly nominated or elected to the office of superior, it is required that they have a fitting time after perpetual profession in the institute as determined by proper law. For major superiors, it is determined by the constitutions. C. 624, § I. Superiors should be constituted as such for a certain and con-venient period of time according to the ~aature and necessities of the institute, unless the constitutions determine otherwise for the Superior General or superiors of autonomous houses. C. 624, § 2. The proper law of the institute should provide suitable norms so that superiors constituted for a definite period of time do not continue for a long time without an interruption in offices of governance. C. 624, § 3. Nevertheless, superiors can be removed from office during their term or transferred to another office for reasons stated in the proper law of the institute. C. 626. When superiors confer an office or when the members participate in elections, they should observe the norms of the universal law and the proper law of the institute, abstaining from any abuse or acceptance of persons, choosing those who, before God, seem most worthy and suitable, having only God and the good of the institute before them. They must not attempt to procure votes, directly or indirectly, for themselves or for others. C. 627, § 1. According to the norm of the constitutions, superiors should have their own council, whose assistance they ought to use in carrying out the work of their office. C. 627, § 2. Besides the cases prescribed in the universal law, the proper law of the institute should determine those cases in which it is required that they seek their consent or advice for the validity of an action according to canon 127, and any other determination of proper law. C. 628, § I. Superiors who are designated for this purpose by the proper law of the institute should conduct visitations of the houses and members entrusted to them at the times designated according to the norms of the proper law. C. 629. Superiors are to reside in their own houses and not absent themselves from their house unless it is according to the norm of the proper law. C. 63 l, § I. The general chapter, which has supreme authority in the institute according to the norm of the constitutions, should be so formed that, repre-senting the whole institute, it should form a true ~ign of its unity in love, and so forth. Constitutions and the Revised Code C. 631, § 2. The composition and ambit of a chapter's authority must be defined in the constitutions. The proper law of the institute should determine the order to be observed in the conduct of the chapter, especially in regard to elections and procedures. C. 631, § 3. According to the norms of the proper law, not only provinces and local communities, but also any member at all has a fight to send freely his wishes and suggestions to the general chapter. C. 632. The proper law determines accurately those things which pertain to any chapter of the institute and to similar bodies, concerning their nature, authority, composition, mode of proceeding and time of meeting. C. 633, § 1. Organs of participation or consultation (committees and commis-sions) should faithfully carry out their duties according to their mandate and the norms of universal and proper law. In some manner, they should express the care and the participation of all members for the good of the whole institute. C. 633, § 2. In establishing these means of participation and consultation and in wisely adhering to them, discretion should be exercised so that the manner of carrying them out may conform to the nature and end of the institute. C. 634, § I. Institutes, provinces and houses, as juridical persons, have the capacity for acquiring, possessing, administering, and alienating temporal goods, unless this capacity is excluded by or limited by the constitutions. C. 635, § 2. Every institute should have appropriate norms for the use and administration of goods so that its poverty is properly fostered, guarded and expressed. C. 636, § 1. Every institute should have a treasurer, distinct from the superior, according to the norms of proper law who will care for the administration of goods under the direction of the superior. Also, every local community is to have a treasurer (bursar) distinct from the local superior. C. 636, § 2. Proper law should also determine the time and the manner for rendering an account to the competent authority. C. 638, § 1. Proper law, within the limits of universal law, determines when an act exceeds the limits and manner of ordinary administration and when an act of extraordinary administration may be placed. C. 638, § 2. Besides superiors, officials designated for this purpose according to the proper law may validly incur expenses and perform other juridical acts of ordinary administration according to their office. 4. Canons Concerning Admission of Candidates and Members of the Institute C. 641. The right to admit candidates to the novitiate belongs to the major superiors according to norms of proper law. C. 643, § 2. The proper law can place additional impediments or conditions to the valid admission of candidates beyond what is required by the Code. C. 645, § 3. The proper law can require other testimony concerning the suita-bility of the candidate and his freedom from impediments besides what is required by the Code. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 C. 648,§ 2. The constitutions can require time for one or several apostolic experiences outside the novitiate community. However, these are not calcu-lated as part of the twelve months required for the validity of the novitiate. C. 650, § 1. The scope of the novitiate program, under the direction of a novice master, is defined by the proper law of each institute. C. 653, § 2. The novitiate being completed, a novice makes temporary vows or leaves; if there is doubt as to his suitability, he can be given a longer time of probation but not beyond six months. This is done by the major superior according to norms of proper law. C. 655. The time for temporary profession is determined by proper law, but it is not to be less than three nor more than six years. C. 657, § 2. If judged opportune, the period of temporary vows can be extended by the competent superior, according to proper law. But the whole period of temporary vows should not exceed nine years. C. 658. Proper law can also add to the appropriate requirements for the validity of perpetual profession beyond' those stated in this Code. C. 659, § 2. The proper law must define the duration and program of training after first incorporation, being always mindful of the goal and character of the institute, as well as the needs of the religious. 5. Canons Concerning Rights and Obligation~ of Members C. 663, § 3. According to prescriptions of proper law, religious should also celebrate worthily the liturgical hours and other pious exercises. C. 667, § 1. The proper law determines the character and extent of the cloister according to the nature and mission of the institute, always reserving some part of the house solely for religious members. C. 668, § 1. Before first profession, unless the constitutions provide otherwise, the members, animated by the spirit of the gospel, should cede the administra-tion of their temporal goods to whomever they choose, freely disposing of the use and usufruct thereof. C. 668, § 2. With permission of the competent superior, according to norms of proper law, religious may, for a just cause, change the disposition. C. 668, § 3. Pensions, assistance, insurance of whatever kind received by the members are acquired by the institute, unless the proper law states otherwise. C. 668, § 4. With the permission of the superior general, according to the norms of proper law, a member may renounce his goods. C. 668, § 5. If a member does so, anything that comes to him after this belongs to the institute according to the norms of proper law. C. 669, § 1. Religious should wear the habit of the institute, according to the norms of proper law, as a sign of their consecration and witness to poverty. C. 670. The institute ought to supply the members with all that is necessary according to the norms of the constitutions for achieving the end of their vocation. 6. Canons Concerning the Separation of Members from the Institute C. 684, § 4. In the case of the transfer of a professed member to another Constitutions and the Revised Code / 51:3 institute, the proper law of the new institute will determine the time and manner of probation. C. 696, § 2. For the dismissal of a member in temporary vows, even less serious reasons suffice according to the statutes of the proper law. Conclusion While religious institutes are ecclesial bodies subject to the authority of the Church according to the norms of the Code of Canon Law, nevertheless, each institute enjoys a certain autonomy in respect to its own internal life (canon 586). Once the constitutions and the proper law of each institute are approved by ecclesiastical authority,.the institute is expected to go about its internal life without the need for interference from outside agencies. Without doubt, the proper Roman dicasteries have a right, within their competency, to exercise a certain authority and vigilance over institutes of the consecrated life, especially in their relationships to other groups and persons in the Church. However, the particular style of life and the patrimony of each institute will be fostered and safeguarded more surely because of the fact that the revised Code requires (or leaves option for) each institute to determine for itself the specifics of many aspects of its internal life. Over forty canons, in application of the principle of subsidiarity, shift responsibility for the determination of certain matters to the constitutions or proper law of the institute. Therefore, the uniqueness of each religious institute will be made more evident. The rigid conformity, which was the unfortunate consequence of the Normae of 1901 and--to a certain extent--the 1917 Code, will be a thing of the past. The revised Code of Canon Law represents a significant advance in the implementation of the theological understanding which the post-Vatican II Church has of the consecrated life. While no human law is without its limita-t~ ions and deficiencies, the 1983 revised Code should help to foster the devel-opment of a vibrant religious life. Evening Prayer As gently as gravity pulls objects Toward the deepest center of the earth, From my first dawn You exerted this pull. Like a magnet, You attracted me away from other energizing forces And drew me closer and closer in Your magnetic field. Come sunset-- And I hover here, this strong power magnetizing me Even closer within the circle of Your love, The center of Your being Where I belong. Carmelita McKeever, CSJ The College of Saint Rose 432 Western Avenue Albany, NY 12203 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother. When a New Missionary Arrives Barry Malone, S.M. Father Malone has set forth his reactions soon after arriving in Lahore from his homeland of New Zealand. Much of this is in the experience of every radical response to Christ. Father Malone teaches at St. Anthony's High School; P.O. Box 61; Lahore, Pakistan. When you get there, you will, of course, experience quite a culture shock. Be prepared for that. It was kind of them to warn me. I had heard already of this "culture shock" and had observed it in others once or twice. Just the process of adaptation--or so I thought. What I am writing now will not, I suppose, be anything like what I will write in six months' time. But, then, part of the experience seems to be being anything but confident about next month, much less about six months' time. Is what I am feeling "culture shock"?. Does the giving of a label to an experience like this help me to own the experience? Or is such a label an aspirin, to help minimize the pain--and maybe even prevent the change that has to take place within me? Culture shock or not, there have been times of joy and excitement as I notice new sights and sounds. There have been moments of wonder and disbelief at finding myself in the midst of Asia and of Islam, in an area steeped in history and saturated with people. But there have been times, too, of being the complete stranger, times of confusion, of disorientation, of fear, of the absence of anything familiar. I can be walking jauntily along the street and be approached by someone: I cannot speak his language, and he cannot speak mine. I can be cycling along 514 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 515 (guided by my tattered map) only to discover that I'd forgotten I was in the Northern Hemisphere now, and here the midday sun lies to the south--and I am lost yet again. I, so used to school, have to ask my pupils ("Speak very slowly please, boys!") "What is this application? What is checking? What is Basant? Why do you remain standing like that?" I have biked (accidentally) into the middle of a bazaar area, and felt trapped and helpless, until a kind stall-owner had to shift his whole shop to help me squeeze past. Surely you can cope with all that? Yes, but I feel I'm not learning very fast; each confusing event seems to upset me more. The excitement and the novelty of it all has begun to evaporate but the confusion remains. Sometimes just knowing what is going on helps one to accept it all with tranquillity and confidence. But what is going on? What if all that makes sense is the image of the rough and confused underside of a tapestry? But you trust in my guiding hand and the wisdom of my purposes, surely? Surely. But how shallow can such trust be! How glib those remembered phrases from sermons I delivered or counsel I offered. The fragility of an eggshell is not obvious amid the straw of the nest. There seems to be a great desert that lies between the theory of hope, of mission, of pilgrimage, and the reality of this situation, of these people, of this particular phase. Human reasons (and sometimes motives deeper still) are tried: "You're here to replace Father X. He's the ideal person for the important tasks at Y." Of course he is. He would just be marking time here, and his gifts, his many gifts, must be used. But why me? You volunteered and when word came you had months of peace at the very prospect. I had no real idea. Really? Well . You're here to support the others. Fine. They deserve all the support they can get. They've had a rough time of it. But how can 1 support men of such inner strength when I feel the way I do? Anyway, what has been changed by my arrival--except another bread on the paten at Mass each morning, another bowl of soup on the table each evening and, for a few weeks, the laughter at my small repertoire of jokes? Come on! Now you know why the affirmations of farewell flooded in. It was to strengthen you with memories for days like these. But what about the other farewells: "What are you running away from?" "How do you know you're doing the right thing by going?" "Weal be one short here next year: there'll be no replacement for you." It's a year of preparation for the next step. What for,-exactly? Preparation for a real culture shock, when poverty is not just seen but is my lot too, when the language barrier cannot be avoided by staying with an English-speaking community and teaching in an English- 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 speaking medium school? Preparation for a land where even cricket is un-known, and to be a priest is to be suspected? What sort of preparation anyway? If I said purification, how would that sound? It sounds awful! But then again it sounds right. What else but purification to describe this sudden and traumatic state with nothing visibly significant to do? Was I still so chained to the merry-go-round of activity for its own sake? Was I really so reliant upon success in tasks and relationships that the lack of any prospect of success is so sour? Was I .(who read so much and reveled in change) really in such a rut that these different people, this strange place, these foreign tongues are so unsettling? Purification. Yes, that's it. One thing has to go, I know, and that is the spirit of giving a performance. Didn't I feel only yesterday, halfway through prayer, that it was a performance for God? And didn't that realization stop me dead and make me ask him to lead me? But purification for what? What kind of purification is it that involves an irritation at the discovery that the English wording of the Our Father here is different from the one I learned thirty-six years ago? What kind of purification is it that makes me so annoyed at the mistakes I made at a game of draughts last night? At draughts, for heaven's sake! What kind of purification is it that makes me feel so awkward when the teachers call me "Sir" and want to shake my hand each morning; when every one of fifteen hundred boys seems to want a personal answer to his "Good morning, Sir"?. What kind of purification is it that makes me feel I'm not coping as I was so used to coping? Why do I feel so suspicious and afraid? Ah, do you hear what you are saying? You were so used to coping! The one who is coping doesn't usually ask for help. Or so l~ve noticed. OK. I need to trust more. I walked the streets of this city; I landed at that chaotic airport; I passed those first homes of the very poor and turned to you and said: "In you, O Lord, I place my trust." Sure you did. Incidentally, I prompted that, you know. But trust now means to let go of that crumbling cliff-face that you're perched on and to hold on to me as l find a path to real safety. But what is this crumbling cliff?. Do I have all that much to let go of?. What do you think? Would my naming things just now really help? Or would it just add to the theory? Let me just gently release those fingers of yours one by one and transfer your weight onto me. It's sort of traumatic and gentle at the same time. Look down if you like, because your part'of the cliff will be down there shortly. So what do I do? Even at prayer I find my requests are selfish and I doubt my sincerity at any noble petition. That's another thing. Why do youpray as if l were unable to speak? Who was it who changed your prayer from "Gift me" to "Please continue to bless me and guide me in your service'? Who prompted your praise for all the good you see in this land of poverty? Is it just a matter of time, then? Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 517 Well, time is not the enemy. I, too, shared the experience of waiting. I endured those sterile sermons in the synagogue and waited for the time when I myself would speak, l know what it's like to wait. l also know what it's like to have to change plans. Do you remember when I was in the Temple, aged twelve? Remember the results of my long retreat in the desert? Then I, discovered my mission was to be done in weakness not comfort, in powerless-ness not power, in ordinariness not in the spectacular. Didn't you preach on , that once? So what do I do? Should I write, read, visit, wander the streets and bazaars? What? What you do is less important than doing whatever it is with humility and love and with me. I find that fine for a while, but the days can become long and empty. That means you are waiting. Remember once you doubted if I wanted you to come here and you offered to call it off?. I said whether I wanted you to come or not, I would always be with you. I remember. I never looked back after that. Or have I? We'll talk again sometime. I have no intention of guarding you from the truth of these people, of yourself, of our real mission together. Keep in touch. Sure. thanks. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and I! by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets, a frequent contributor, is a member of the Department of Theology of Creighton University (Omaha, NE 68178). His topic is one of recurring media, interest, especially in view of the Jesuits' upcoming 33rd General Congregation. The recently published article on the Jesuits' fourth vow by Father John O'Malley, "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study,"I has more than academic interest at this particular juncture in the history of the Society of Jesus and its relationship to the Holy See. Beginning with the Jesuits' Thirty-second General Congregation (December l, 1974 to March 7, 1975), there has been a series of unfortunate contretemps between the Society and the pope. Pope Paul VI's final appraisal of the work of that congregation, as conveyed in Cardinal Villot's letter (May 2, 1975), was not enthusiastic: "From an examination of the decrees, it appears that well-known circum-stances prevented the General Congregation from achieving all that His Holiness had expected from this important event . " Nor was the Society's own appraisal of itself that positive. The first item on the agenda of every general congregation according to the statutes is the election of a commission to review the state of the Society. This commission, after reviewing the material at its disposal, issued its report to the assembled delegates. | was one of the delegates. We felt that the report was too negative. We remanded it to the commission. If my memory serves me, we voted to disband the commission itself. However, the tone of the report found its way into a decree called "Jesuits Today." It begins with the words: "What is it to be a Jesuit? It is to know that one is a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." After the commission's report, and the response of the delegates, Fr. Arrupe took up the topic in an address to the congregation: Two images he 518 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits / 5"i9 used stand out in my memory. He compared the Society to a ship that has come through a storm, battered, but intact. He also described it as a person who is ill, but not mortally. Another series of events is more recent. In October 1981, to the surprise of e~,eryone, Pope John Paul II, in an unprecedented action, replaced the man chosen by Fr. Arrupe as his personal vicar. In his place, the pope named an Italian Jesuit, Fr. Paolo Dezza, who has had a long history of service to the Society, as his personal delegate to the Society. Predictably the reaction among Jesuits ran the gamut. On the part of many the reactions were negative: feelings of anger, resentment, indignation, confusion, suspicion, hurt. Some, on the other hand, saw it as a special sign of love and concern the Holy Father had for the Society, intended to help us prepare more fruitfully for the upcoming congregation at which a new general will.be elected. The initial bristling reaction was in large part quieted by subsequent events. The week-long meeting of the provincials from all over the world with Fr. Dezza, then their personal conference with the pope brought a great deal of mutual understanding. Finally, Fr. Dezza's letter convoking the next General Congregation to take place in September of 1983 set our faces toward the future. Fr. O'Malley's article on the fourth vow assumes, then, a special impor-tance in the light of the events just mentioned. Its implications for our collec-tive awareness of our relationships toward the Holy See merit serious attention. In what fol~lows, after an analysis of Fr. O~Malley~s article, I shall pose questions expressing my misgiving with his argumentation and his conclusion. Then I shall present Fr. Arrupe's treatment of the fourth vow in some of his recent writings. Needless to say, even in my disagreement with Fr. O'Malley, I respect him as a scholar and personal friend. The Fourth Vow However, even before I begin, I should say something about the Jesuits' fourth vow for the benefit of non-Jesuits who might read this. In establishing his religious order, St. Ignatius took over, of course, many traditional aspects of religious life. In other points he was creative and innovative. He took over, for example, the idea of the final vows that a member would make after a period of probation. But he also introduced an innovation in what arecalled "grades" in the Society~ Those who are admitted to last vows would be admitted on two grades (or levels). The first grade comprises the spiritual (priests) and temporal (lay brothers) coadjutors. The second grade is that of the professed. Besides the regular vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the professed took a fourth vow of obedience to the pope. The description of this fourth vow is found in The Formula of the Institute, the document in which Pope Julius IIl in 1550 gave his full approbation to this new congregation. 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The pertinent sentences from the formula are the following: "We are obliged by a special vow to carry out whatever the present and future Roman pontiffs may order in what pertains to the progress of souls and the propaga-tion of the faith; and to go without subterfuge or excuse, as far as in us lies, to whatsoever provinces they may choose to send us . , The motive for the vow is "for the sake of our greater devotion in obedience to the Apostolic See, of greater abnegation of our own wills, and of surer direction from the Holy Spirit." Further declarations are found in the Constitutions for the Society written by St. Ignatius. "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study" I come then to Fr. O'Malley's article. He describes in the Introduction the particular question that focuses his study: "The most specific and urgent ques-tion raised in the past few years is how the vow relates to the papal magiste-rium. Does the vow obligate Jesuits to an adherence to that magisterium that is different from that of other Catholics, especially Catholic theologians, and is 'special' to the members of the Society? That question, we must note right off, is asked regarding an obligation imposed by the vow" (p. 1). The article is prompted then by the problem facing Jesuits, particularly teachers, writers, editors. Does the fourth vow oblige them to support papal teaching if they judge there is room for legitimate disagreement? In Part I. St. Ignatius and Doctrine, upon examining the relevant sources, Fr. O'Malley draws the conclusion that St. Ignatius had no interest in doctrine qua doctrine, but only in its pastoral implications. "Is it too much to state that Ignatius had no real interest in doctrine or theology in the conventional sense of those terms today? A strong case can be made for that position" (p. 9). "Ignatius conceived doctrine almost entirely with a view to pastoral effective-ness" (p. 11). "The behavioral and attitudinal components emerge much stronger in this 'horizon' than do more strictly dogmatic issues" (p. 11). Part II. St. Ignatius and Orthodoxy deals with doctrine as the object of faith. Here he takes up St. Ignatius' "Rules for Thinking with the Church." He addresses himself mainly to Rule 13: "What seems to me white, I will believe (creer) black if the hierarchical Church so defines, believing (creyendo) between Christ our Lord, the spouse, and the Church, his bride, there is the same Spirit which governs us and directs us to the salvation of our souls." Rather than se.,eing this rule as applying to doctrinal orthodoxy qua orthodoxy, O'Malley interprets it more as a practical directive: "His 'rule' emerges, therefore, more as an indication of a disposition of soul (sentir) than as a practical instrument for theological discourse. It thus reflects the attitudi-nal and affective intent that pervades Ignatius' writings" (p. 15). "But, again like the rest of us, Ignatius was cautious, conventional, and even undiscrimi-nating in areas where he had no deep inte~rest. One of these areas was academic theology, and even the relationship of that theology to orthodoxy" (p. 16). According to O'Malley, then, Ignatius had little interest in academic theology, The Fourth l,'ow of the Jesuits / 521 or the relationship of theology to dogma, or interest in dogma itself, except as providing some kind of pastoral orientation. O'Malley begins Part III. St. Ignatius and the Church with a statement which seems to moderate what he said before: "If there is one exception to this vagueness on dogma in Ignatius' thinking, it lies in ecclesiology" (p. 21). But he goes on to correct this impression. What was Ignatius' idea of the Church? Not primarily a "school of doc-trine," nor a hierarchical and sacramental reality, but as a locus for ministry. "Ministry, quite ~imply, is what the Church is about. As one conceives minis-try, therefore, so does one conceive Church" (p. 24). "Rather than 'school of doctrine,' therefore, a less ambiguous term of Ignatius' idea of the Church might be 'school of the affections' or 'school of affectivity'" (p. 25). What is the identifying role of the papacy then? Since the Church is to be conceived as the locus of ministry, the pope is conceived as the universal provider for ministry in the Church. "The consensus was., that the pope was the universal pastor with certain prerogatives that made him the ultimate judge in areas where equitable settlement could otherwise not be achieved. He resolved disputes and thereby was the ultimate guarantor of order in the Church. 'Pastor' and 'judge' would be the two best words to describe his function" (p. 28). Was there such a thing as papal magisterium at the time of Ignatius? Not in the sense in which it exists today, according to O'Malley. "The pope is rarely described as 'teacher,' at least as we would be inclined to understand that word today" (p. 29). "They were very far, then, from exercising a teaching office in any regular and positive sense" (p. 29). What was it, then, that led Ignatius to conceive the fourth vow? According to O'Malley, it was mainly his sense of order. This came from his temperament and background, as well as from the contemporary world view that saw hierarchy as the natural order of the universe. "It was inevitable that he would ascribe this same structure to the Church" (p. 31). Was the vow a one-sided promise that the Society be totally at the service of the pope? Not exactly. It was a quidpro quo: "They needed the Holy See as badly as they believed the Holy See needed them . In defending the Holy See. the Jesuits were also defending their own charter to exist" (p. 32). "The relationship between the Jesuits and the pope was mutually advan-tageous" (p. 33). However functional this whole arrangement was, O'Malley concedes that Ignatius did, nevertheless, have a special regard for the Holy See. But one should not read back into his devotion to the Holy See the personalistic fervor that grew up around the person of the Holy Father in the nineteenth century (p. 33). In Part II/. St. Ignatius and the Fourth l,'ow O'Malley argues against the position of two Jesuits, a German and a~ Spaniard, who hold a position contrary to his. He feels they go too far in expanding the scope of the vow. He 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 grants that "the symbolic character of a vow, as an expression of a religious ideal, should be expansive, but the proper object of a vow must., be clearly localized" (p. 38). He then states again the specific question he is addressing: "Can the pope bind a Jesuit by virtue of his vow to some 'special' defense, say, of Veterum sapientia, or Populorum progressio, or Humanae vitae, or Laborem exer-cens?" (p. 40). His answer is "No." There is no indication that Ignatius or his companions ever considered this as a likelil~ood or possibility (p. 40). He rules out, then, the possibility of the pope comman~ding some specific teaching by reason of the

Issue 45.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1986. ; Vocation Ministry A Sociological View of Commitment Religious and Secular Institutes Imagination Within the Act of Faith Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1986 REvIEw FOR REI,IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at'Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW EOt~ REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, M O © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELtGIOOS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1986 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of p~int~ issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major po~on of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY I0010. The Vowed Life in a Secularized World Desmond O'Donnell, O M.I. Father O'Donnell's earlier "Focused Freedom: To Someone in Formation"appeared in the issue of January/February, 1985. He is a General Councillor for his community and, though often on the road, may be addressed at its Generalate: Oblati di Maria; C.P. 9061; 00100 Roma Aurelia, Italy. ouring out a plethora of easy answers to complex questions does not bring us any closer to permanent solutions. Neither is it helpful to offer a new one-word solution for everything taking place in the Church at this time. And yet secularization might be a useful umbrella-word ~,to explain much, of what is taking place both, to the Church and to the vowed life today. If it is in fact found to be a satisfactory seminal term, it will also help us to focus rather than to diffuse our response. It can aid the process of discernment. Situating the Question The good news about our way of life is that a deep spiritual renewal is being experienced by many and that the importance of prayer is being rediscovered. There has been a notable updating in theology and real--if not always successful--attempts to build authentic faith-communities. There also is a growing freedom and practice of discernment about our apostolates and about our private lives as well. There is other news which does not' seem so obviously good, such as the large numbers who left us, the small numbers joining and the increasing median age. In some places, community life is moving towards becoming politely-shared space, enclosing many unspoken polarizations about deep realities among us. Authority has tended to go from heavy-handedness to 161 "i69/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 ¯ laissez-faire and so consensus about anything of serious communal signifi-cance is often hard to come by. Governments gradually move in to take over our institutions, either because we have chosen to let them or because they have helped themselves. The degree to which all this is related to secularization is disputable, but related it is, and I will try to show why this is so. Before we go into this, may I look at some more personal experiences of vowed people in most countries today--experiences which I think are related to secularization even more deeply than those mentioned above. Many of us have been through more or less severe vocational question-ing of some kind in recent years, because the rationale of our way Of life did not seem capable of answering the questions popping up all around us. Maybe it was triggered off by simply seeing one of our now-married novitiate companions do equally good apostolic work and do it well. It may also have been that we grew tired of mobility, or just vaguely short of motivation for the continual questioning of our chosen lifestyle. Many of us have found some new difficulties in prayer, as God seemed to withdraw and leaqe the world to evil pebple. Or maybe the emergence of so many small friendship-groups has left us out in the cold called "com-munity life." The variety of new prayer-forms and so many seminars, have a way of increasing our desire for some stability and wondering if it might not be found elsewhere, In response to'all of this, many felt the growing ambiguities and endless updating led them to personal selectivity in belief and practice. Others moved to the edge~of the storm by choosing some form of fundamentalism or an atheism' which expressed itself in mere social horizontalism while still remaining in the ~3ongregation. Some of us chose to becom~ left-wing unloving critics of the present and others moved to become right-wing uncritical lovers of the past, as the middle ground grew unpopular and became such a solitary exprience. These deeper and more personal phenomena~ are related to modernization and secularization too, as I will try to demonstrate. And so the response to these experiences, might first be to understand the meaning of modernization and the resultihg secularization-experience. Modernization The amount of knowledge in the world continues to increase because of constant research and it is rapidly diffused through very efficient communicatioh systems. Modernization is what happens when the knowledge is~ transferred into technology, which then has ~increasing and unforeseeable effects on economic growth, on social systems and on political decisidns. Inevitably the individual too is affected in his or her The Vowed Life in a Secularized World / 165 values, attitudes, beliefs and behavior. Most of us remember the discovery of plastic 'in the 40s, of the transistor in the 50s, of computers in the 60s, of microcomputers in .the 70s and now we observe technology move forward into genetic engineering in the 80s. All of these have affected people and systems in serious and often irreversibl~e ways. This march of modernization shows no signs of slowing down and often appears to have its own~self-propelled, autonomous momentum. It took one hundred twelve years for photography to go from discovery to commercial product, fifty-six for the telephone, thirty-five for the radio, fifteen for radar, twelve for television and only five for transistors to find their way from the laboratory into the market. Again, as each of these products comes on the market, it touches--and in the case of genetic engineering, tampers with human nature and human systems in often lastingly significant ways, It is with the human effects of modernity that we are concerned and these are sometime.s good, sometimes evil, and often ambiguous. Moder-nity can lead to human community and comfort,-.or to pollution and poverty for millions; it can facilitate or disrupt human values; it can enrich °a poor country or steal its unrenewable sources of energy; it can help in the diffusion of truth or of lies through the media and it can pass on productive information or child,pornography. In each of our .lives it can .make the superfluous become the convenient, ~the convenient become the necessary and the necessary become the indispensable, thus changing human nature itself. ~ Peter Berger's definition summarizes, all this: "Modernization is the transformation of the world, brought about by the technological innova-tions of the last few centuries having economic, social and political dimen-sions all immense in scope." With many otherwriters he goes on to outline the many very,personal effects resulting from the economic, social, political ones in his definition, Secularization is a very significant one of these. Secularization It is important to stress that we are not talking here about secularism which is a theory, an ideology denying the existence of God or at least his action and relevance in the world. Nor is secularization .to be equated with atheism when in fact it might be the very opposite experience for many who are desperately trying to hold on toGod who seems to be withdrawing from them. And certainly it would be simplistic to think that secularization is the same as materialism, Secularization is claimed to.be more a fact than a theory, a reality more than an ideology, a process taking place more than.a point of view. While it "i64/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 can lead to secularism, materialism, or atheism, it is in fact none of these. Some religious people find words like secularism, materialism and atheism convenient labels for what is happening in the Church or in_the vowed life today and it may be a description in some cases, but it is not addressing the deeper and more pervasive reality we call secularization. Secularization manifests itself when explanations of reality previously attributed to mythical or religious sources, are shown to have .rational ones, as when the~scientist takes over from the witch doctor, the. psychologist assumes some previously priestly functions or when a technological discovo ery,disintegrates a theological theory. A group of Animists in Java lost their gods a few years ago when a new seismographic station began to foretell and explain volcanic eruptions more accurately than the local holy man, The Diak people of Borneo lost their fear of and their belief in their forest gods when bulldozers razed the jungle. For some people, the study of a good theology of providence could have a similar effect. These people are experiencing secularization. In a similar way, many modern Christians first felt uncomfortable and then felt their faith questioned by a good church-history book, an accurate TV documentary, a skilled psychiatrist, two men on the moon, an old law proven pointless, a church authority found unworthy, a symbol disappear-ing or a culture collapsing~-all more or less the result of modernization. The resulting discomfort and questioning within the individual person, is close to the secularization-experience. It is an experience of no longer having one overall reference-point--a feeling of increasing disintegration. If you are experiencing that somehow God is withdrawing because religious explanations are increasingly less necessary, that the quantum of the secular is increasing at the expense of the sacred, that maybe~ God is now less necessary as a postulate for human living or that because of modern evidence your longheld experience of God is no longer a comfort-able one, you are probably undergoing the pressure of the secularization-experience. This is not a decisionnor even a desire to become an atheist; even if it could lead to it. Nor is it necessarily the result of "giving in" to materialism or to less-than-moral behavior, admitting, of course, that both of these can easily increase its momentum. If you are not undergoing the experience of secularization, then it is still important to uiaderstand it, because most of the peopl~ you are trying to evangelize, especially in the developed world, are probably experiencing it. It is from this fact that the present great missiological question arises--how announce the Good News of Jesus Christ to a secularized world? Moderni-zation and its result in secularization are now recognized as cultures, new cultures, ever-changing cultures and it is at this point that we recognize the The Vowed l_Jfe in a Secularized World / 165 break between faith and culture today. Thus for the modern person, secularization is a feelin~ of dissonance in .trying to hold together what is happening in the world and what the Bible seems to say about God's providence or what is often said in churches and what is taking place in real life around us. It results in discomfort with one's present experience of God. Any naive belief in the immediacy of God will be challenged .by secularization and modernity. Old fashioned god-words and some ecclesiastical jargon will appear increasingly irrelevant to sincere secularized persons everywhere. Secularization can be defined as the grad-ual disappearance of mythical and religious legitimations or explanations of society. Living with the ambiguities of the secularization-experience leads to a temptation to take refuge in fundamentalism which can be described as believing more and more in less and less in order to feel secure, or in agnosticism which is a lazy neither-nor ~land excusing one from the strug-gles, doubts and decisions which are part of any faith. Let us now try to analyze the challenge and opportunity which secularization offers the vowed life. The Vowed Life For the vowed life, secularization can be a deep call and a deep grace. Lumen Gentium calls us to enrich, challenge, encourage and stimulate the Church by our lives and our action (Par. 44). This is all the more reason why we must study, understand and give a gospel response to seculariza-tion, to a secularized world. Because secularization implies change at so many levels of human existence, we should recall that sociologists stress the vital importance of internal consistency for all groups in time of change. This internal consis-tency- our basic authenticity measured against what we claim to be--is now a matter of survival. Institutions which lack internal consistency are likdy to disappear in tim~s of rapid change, especially if their external image is also unclear. For these reasons, we who profess the vowed life must address the phenomenon and the grace of secularization. May I suggest that there are five areas where God might well be speaking to us in all this? ~ansmitting a New Integrating Presence of God Secularization, as we saw, forces us to find a new presence of God, a presence which permeates, integrates, energizes for action and which brings human and divine values into secular realities. Karl Rahner spoke of the vowed woman as having a profession which has no justification from the "166 / Review for :Religious, March-April, 1986 secular point of view even if she performs many useful secular tasks. What then might her iprofession and that of vowed men be? It is surely--as it always was--to give or rather to share with people their own experience of God. This is a demanding task; it demands that we each have such an experience first of all. We will have to pass on "so.mething which we have seen with our own eyes, that we have watched and touched with our own .hands" (1 Jn l:l'b) and it will be vital that "in Christ we speak as men of sincerity, as envoys of God and in God's presence" (2 Co 2:17), It seems to be a call to discover and lead in a new integrating mysticism as this quote from John Macquarie expresses: ¯ It is interesting to note that Bonhoeffer, though he advocated a 'worldly' Christia°nity, made it 'perfectly explicit that the kind of w0rldline~ss that he had in mind has nothing to do with the immersion in"material pursuits and enjoyments that we commonly associate with the "worldly' man. Bon-hoeffer makes a :statement that ought to be'pondered by those who invoke his support for a thoroughly secularized Christianity. He says: 'In Christ we are offered the possibility of partaking in the reality'of God and in the reality of the world, but not in the one without the other The reality of God discloses itself only by setting me entirely in the reality of the world, and when I encounter the reality of the world, it is always already sus-tained: accepted and reconciled in the reality of God.' There is a dialectic here that takes us beyond any naive world affirmation, just as it rules out any false religiosity. God,is met in the world, but the world is known in its reality only as Grd's world? Back in 1970, Karl Rahner wrote: Maybe we [he was addressing his own Society] ourselves have been super-f! cialized by the consumer society. Maybe we ourselves have not come to any original experience of God. Maybe we have not taken .the .trouble to let others participate in the mystical technique leading.to such an expe-rience. If all that is the case, we have of course, no alternative but to take refuge in a secular horizontalism which tries to interpret and live our own lives on the same level . The coming thing is the spiritual dimension, the experience of God, the taste of eternity no matte~ how valid our social involvement (with ~regard to which we have a terrible'lot to make up). The coming thing is sober peace, in face of all the absurdity of existence, the absurdity which no social involvement will spirit away. That rather bour-geois- chequered spirituality which was found--to outward appearances at least--in the orders before the first world war and which influenced reli-gious life too much~ may belong to the past and the young may say rightly that it is useless.from the start. But a new spirituality in religious life and in the Church will be assured of a real future. Whatever form this new spirituality will have, it must surely~be a very 7he Vowed life in a Secularized Worm personal "faith in the Son of God who loved me and who sacrificed himself for my sake" (Ga 2:20) and a very integrating one, enabling us to "bring everything together~ under Christ" (Ep 1:10). This--it seemsto me--is the most serious challenge which secularization puts to vowed communities today. Integration Through Reflection As we saw, one of the deepest effects of secularization is disintegration. There is no longer any one overarching human legitimation for the think-ing person today. We, even as vowed people, stand and struggle side by side with the modem person in loneliness, doubts, fears' and feelings of disinte-gration. We too are among the "new poor." The third world is closer to us than we think; it is inside our shirts especially if we have already chosen the still greater poverty of fundamentalism with iis moral, dogmatic and spirit-ual naivet6 and ~elitism. We are, however, expected to .stand with our fellow Christians in seren-ity and in a "peace which the world cannot give" (Jfi 14:27). We stand with them in a spirit of confidence too, as Jesus did with his disciples, when for him and for them everything seemed lost; "I have told you all this so that you may find peace in me. In the world you will have trouble, but be brave; I have overcome the world" (Jn 16:23). Only a life of prayer can discover and sustain this peace, this joy in the midst of a secularizing experience. Jesus led a busy life and had constant calls on his service, but we find the source of his power in the actual physical withdrawal, to be with God: "His reputation continued to grow and large crowds would gather to hear him and to have their sickness cured but ~he would always go away to some place to be alone and pray" (Lk 15:16). The form of prayer for today would seem to be what Macquarie calls "prayer as thinking";5 it is a prayer.which reflects on what God is doing in the world more than on what he,has done in scriptural times, without of course neglecting this latter. It is a praye~: which keeps our spiritual faculties alive. All reality, especially fast-changing or disintegrated reality~ is opaque and this is especially true in the m6dern world when ambiguity is part of life everywhere. We need to sharpen our spiritual eyesight to see what Bonhoffer described as the "holy depths" of.things and events. It is not so much a prayer "giving us time to refuel, but a prayer'which gives us increased awareness for better and deeper involvement and which motivates us for the human task of offering the world salvation from '~'everything that oppresses the.human person especially sin and the .evil one" (EN n. 9). Lest we ourselves succumb to the burnout of compulsive activity or the dropout of ceaseless seminars this life of "prayer as thinking" 1611/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 seems essential. . A long time ago, Christopher Dawson observed: "Men today are divided between those who have kept their spiritual roots and lost their contact with the existing order of society, and those who have preserved their social contacts and lost their spiritual roots." Could this be a descrip-tion of vowed persons today? Relativization of All Reality ~ I read somewhere that the Talmud says we will be held accountable to God for all the legitimate pleasures we have not enjoyed. When all this is said and dqne, there still remains the fact that so many of life's legitimate-- or even essential--pleasures are denied millions today, in even our devel-oped world. There also stands the fact that "we have not here a lasting city" (Heb 1:3:14) ahd that we possess only the certaintY of Christian hope: "We have a sure hope and the promise of an inheritance that can never be spoilt or soiled and never fade away because it is being kept for you in the heavens" (1 P 3:4). One part of our mission is to keep.Christian hope clearly before people and thus relativize reality, both good and evil. Secularization or not, the human person has a tendency to appropriate goods, material and spiritual, to hold them closely and even to be possessed by them. Our lives if they are lived in the simplicity and detachment which we .profess, will relativize the enjoyment or deprivation of material things and remind others that t.hey are to be shared: "Warn those who are rich in this world's goods, that they are not to look down on other people and not to set their hopes on money which is untrustworthy but on God, who out of his riches, gives us all that we need for our happiness. Tell them that they are to do good and be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share"(l Tm 6:17,18). We can do this "telling" by our lifestyle, before we do it in words, the opportunity for which may never come our way. We also speak to the poor enabling them to relativize their desire for justice and to recall that while they struggle for their rights, there isan opportunity for growth in their poverty too. "Listen, my dear brothers, it was those who are poor accord, ing to the world that God chose to be rich in faith and to be heirs to the kingdom which he promised to those who love him" (Jm 2:5). Modernization has created so many who are enduring forced celibacy through broken marriages or infidelity and who are still avalanched by the media's sexual imperative. We can support these people even without speaking, because our lives experience the same yearnings and our minds are exposed to the same urgings and yet we struggle successfully on, with-out the assurance of genital involvement. But all this depends on our Vowed ~'fe in a Secularized World / 169 manifesting balanced and happy personalities, as people who have inte-grated their relationships and their sexuality in a healthy way. For secular-ized persons--many of whom suffer from confused psychosexuality--we can be supportive signs of survival and of fulfilled happiness through our lived celibacy. Individualism is a mark of the secularized person, coming very often as it does from hurt, insecurity and alienation. This can be so in our own communities too. The insecure person lives ambivalently between a desire to be accepted through cooperation and a fear of being dominated by submission. This is part of the disintegrating experience of modern life. If alienation is the pathology of our age, individualism is one of its clearest manifestations. By our vow of obedience lived out and seen not as "doing what one is told" but as discernment of what is best leadership in and through a caring community, we have much to say to the modern person about finding his or her own best expression of self in a confused world. It is even humanly true that "none of us is as wise as all of us." The secularized person, tempted to extreme individualism needs to rediscover this; for the good of ¯ families, local groups and for national and international survival, o Process.and Pilgrimage , It is clear that we vowed people will not be on the edge of the human experience of secularization and its consequential feeling of disintegration much longer. We share with men and women everywhere their search for stability and for lost certainties as the river of secularization tries to move all of us up, down and forward. To an extent, we found ourselves insulated from the human condition until recently, but no longer. Even if it were. not through necessity, we know that if we are to hold conversation with and to evangelize the world, we must pitch our tents within it; as God did. We must be prepared to pilgrimage our way once again and enter into the human process which we'should never have deserted. The fact that we accept this, will help so many others who find it difficult and who drop out into drugs or other forms of anomie and despair. Again, our vows lived authentically prepare us for the pilgrimage, ready us to keep moving, because we have publicly professed not to hold on, not to settle and not to be held. By our lived poverty, we refuse to be possessed by any material consideration and by our vows of chastity we also refuse to be possessed by ahy relationship. Obedience enables us to keep listening and looking at the map of moving events with eyes of faith and lbve. To quote Karl Rahner again from the same article: "The concrete future of Christianity, the Church and religious life remains largely hidden 17{I / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 from us . what historical and social form the Church and ecclesial Christianity will take in the future, remains largely hidden from us., we have to fight for victory without.a prognosis of victory" (p. 136). He was not° referring tothe effects of secularization at that time, but what he wrote is truer than ever now, and it puts us side by side and hopefully hand in hand with the modern man or woman as they endure the sec-ularization- experience. Interdependence and Involvement Our communities are not islands of isolated peace in a troubled uni-verse. No, they are sources from which we. emerge to makea more human and so a more godly world. Our vows enable us to do this; having freed us from, they also free usforLin a liberating way. ~',~ Our vow of poverty truly lived, makes us free for involvement. Because we have nothing to lose, we can carry the struggle for justice .further and when our lives are skilled in dispossession, we are not open to criticism from the rich~whose lives we question for the sake of the poor. Our good news for the poor has to be in some way perceived as bad news for the rich and they will readily point to any beam or bank account in our own lives if these are obvious. Only 'by relinquishing the power of possessions .can we demonstrate our competence to communicate freedom. Our vow of chastity makes us free to keep moving and to freely ask even our close friends: "Do you want to go away too?" (Jn 6:67). Again, we can take risks which married people with concern for their,families and for each other cannot be asked to take. Obedience, as we saw, offers us a freedom to live out a ,radar-like listening to God's word in the world around us. Truth comes only with listening :and discernment and these take. place best among a group of sharing people~ Obedience is .a public statement, that we bind ourselves to listen within and are missioned by a community through its leaders. This offers a model~for others to do the same in the Church. The quality of relationships and of concern for anyone at a distance suffers greatly in this time of disintegrative secularization, as each one looks to his or her own very personal success or survival. Nations do the same. This di-ama is, played out on a smaller scale every day in the average city too. Surely our communities have something important to say to people in this bleak situation. In our public interaction with one another° and for those who visit our communities,.the prayer ot~Jesus for his whole Church must tend towards .fulfillment: "_May they all be one, Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me" (.In 17:21). The Vowed Life in a Secularized Worm / 1.71 In' conclusion, I submit that we are approaching the ideal today, as we find the vowed life standing less at a point of comfortable distance from the world and more at a point of painful dialectic with it. At this point it must be ready to say a confirming yes or a challenging no--and do this by its life and activity--to all the results of secularization. To quote .the Anglican writer, Macquarie again: Here it must be said with regret that the trouble with some of our less responsible contemporary Christian secularizers is that they have taken up the ideal of holy worldliness, but seem to have promptly forgotten the adjective and reduced the ideal to a worldly concern tout court. They tell us that Christianity is a purely secular movement, their ideal of the good life seems scarcely distinguishable from the one that is so assiduously propagated by Madison Avenue, and the more extreme among them, in their horror at any supposed 'withdrawal' from the world, come near to advocating that the time has arrived to replace "poverty, chastity, and obedience with affluence, promiscuity, and autonomy as the highest goals for human life, or even as (he new evangelical counsels! The s!ogan for all this'is that w'e sho.uld 'say yes' to the world. But I do not think thata simple world affirmatioa will either help us to find God in the world or help the world to know his presence.6 - ~ Indeed, if we are to follow the words of Lumen Gentium, Chapter VI, par 44, the vowed life must say yes and no even to the Church itself. NOTES ~Facing Up to Moflernity, New York: Basic Books, 1977, 2John Macquarie, New Directions in Theology Today, Vol. III, p. 67, Philadelphia: 1981. 3"The Future of Religious Life" in Supplement to Doctrine and Life, Dublin: Domini-can l%_blications, May, 1972. 4The Greek' word anakephalasiosastai~is used in secular literature to express the con-ceptof many different ideas being subsumed under one theme. 5John Macquarie, Paths in Spirituality, Chapter 3, SCM Press, 1980, 6Op tit 2, p. 66. Vocation Ministry: Continuing the Invitation of Jesus Thomas E. Clark, ES.C. Brother Clark, Associate Vocation Director for the Chicago Province of the Christian Brothers, sees his work to be very much a ministry. This article is based on a presenta-tion he gave to the faculties of his congregation's schools in the Chicago area. He may be addressed at his .office: 200 De La Salle Drive; Romeoville, lllinois 60441. y ~vork 'as a full'time vocation minister for my community has often given me the opportunity to speak with young people, both individually and in groups, about the experience of being called by the Lord. My message to them is nearly identical to that of hundreds of other vocation ministers: each of us is called by God, each of us has a vocation, and it is up to each of us to discover what that vocation is. Onthe surface, the message seems clear, theologically sound, and understandable. However, what I have become aware of recently is th~at, in the two years I have been deliver-ing the message that each of us is called, the feeling with which I have been delivering that message has sometimes left something to be desired. Rather than offering a challenge to the young people with whbm I speak--a ch~allenge to discover a meaningful and significant way of living the Gospel ¯ in today's world--I've often felt that I am offering instead an apology for the choices I have made. It is as though the challenge of the Gospel might be just a little too naive for today's world, and to invite anyone to take it seriously may seem foolish and unrealistic. And even more foolish might be the invitation of young people to consider religious life and Church ministry as real options for themselves, ways of living out the Gospel challenge. I would certainly be out of touch with reality, I sometimes feel,-if I were to think that these people sitting in front of me--healthy, normal, 172 Vocation Ministry American young adults might consider religious life and Church ministry as serious-options for themselves. Thus when I speak with them, my invitation is sometimes clouded over with justifications ("I'm here today simply to make you aware of some choices I've made"), or sprinkled with "escape clauses" ("Any career you choose can be ministry"). The'underlying message, of course, is "I don't really expect you to consider any of these things for yourself." (In citing the above examples, of justification and "escape clauses," I do not mean to imply that there is no place in vocation ministry for "awareness education" or for a broad understanding of minis-try and community. On the contrary, these two approaches are essential to vocation ministry. They do not, however, constitute the whole of vocation ministry, and are sometimes used to avoid its more challenging aspect: that of invitation.) In speaking with a number of religious who are involved in vocation ministry, I have discovered that they, too, have much the same experience at times. Put simply, there are times when I do not believe there are any people who would be open to considering religious life as an option for themselves. Such an attitude is easily communicated to others, though it may not be directly stated,'and has the effect of turning away anyone who may consider religious life as a personal option. Further, a religious who holds such an attitude could never extend a confident and joyful invitation to an individual to consider religious life. It is my belief that such an attitude will keep religious not just from extending invitations to people to consider religious life, but on a deeper and more fundamental level, will keep us from fulfilling the responsibility we have to call people to build the kingdom of God. It is this invitation to the kingdom which is at the heart of vocation ministry, and which I wish to explore in more detail. In doing so, I shall consider several related topics: the model of invitation which Jesus gives us in the Gospels; vocation ministry as a means of living out that model; the philosophy of vocation ministry which has emerged in recent years; and finally, the challenge which we religious have been given in regard to vocation ministry. Jesus: Model of Invitation A simple perusal of the Gospels will show that Jesus had no hesitation about inviting peopl~ to follow him. His invitations are clear and concise. There is no misunderstanding what he means; the challenge is laid out on the table and nothing is hidden: Come after me and I will make you fishers of men (Mr 5:19). Follow me (Mr 9:9). Come and see (Jn 1:39). 1"/4/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 While such invitations may have been disarming or even~ unne ,rying to his listeners, it is difficult to imagine their being misunderstood. Jesus .has asked someone'to be his follower; it is as simple as that. ~ Neither does Jesus fail to make known to his followers his expe~ctations of them. In fact, his~requirements are so clear that~ sometimes they sound almost harsh. Whoever wishes to be my follower must deny his very self, thke Up his° '~ cross each day, and follow in my steps. Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will save it (Lk 9:23-24). ~.Let the dead bury their dead; come away and proclaim the kingdom of God (Lk 9:60). The requirements of following Jesus are great. He knows this, and does not hide this frown those whom he invites. At the same time, the invitation is issued with a certain excitement stemming from urgency of the call as well as its promise: Tliis is the tim~ of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Refo~-m ~our lives and believe in the Gospel! (Mk 1":5). Go a~d sell what you have and give to the poor; you will then have treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me (Mk 10:21). This last invitation of Jesus was issued in response to the question of the rich young man, "What must I do to share in everlasting life?" (Mk 10".17). An.d it is here that we find out why Jesus issues the invitation t[iat he does: He knows everlasting life, and wants to share that with us. Again and again, Jesus promises us the kingdom and all that goes with it: fullness of life (Jn 10:10); complete joy (Jn 17:13); knowledge of th~ true God (Jn 17:3); the freedom of the truth (Jn 8:32); his own peace (Jn 14:27); the hundredfold and ~verlasting life (Mk 10:30). Jesus knows the k.ingdom and the gifts of the kingdom, and wants that experience for those to whom he has been sent. Herein we find the motivation behind his in~vitation, his c~all to take up the cross, [o sell all our possessions, to follow him. It is becaus~ he knows it will lead to the kingdom and everlasting lye,, arid he wants nothing less for us. It is love which has produced the clear, concise and even harsh invitation we find in the Gospel. With what kind of response .did Jesus' invitation meet? The Gospels sl~ow us pictures of every kind of response imaginable: Peter and Andrew "abandoned their nets and became his followers," as did James and John (Mt 4:20-22); Matthew left his post as tax collec~tor (Mt 9:9). The rich young man went away sad because of his many possessions (Mk 10:22). In a particularl~ poignant episode ~ecorded in John's gospel, Jesus' teaching leads many of his disciples to protest and ultimately to break away from his company. On seeing this, Jesus asks the Twelve if they, too, will leave him. Vocation Ministry / 175 Peter responds, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words :of eternal life" (Jn 6:60 ff.). Thus, the responses to Jesus' invitations are many and varied, for Jesus always allowed the individual to respond freely. What is evident, however, is that Jesus never stopped inviting, no matter what kind of response he met with. For Jesus, the important thing is that everyone be invited to follow him and to proclaim the kingdom. Negative responses, while disheartening, must not keep one from continuing to:issue the call, for all people deserve the opportunity to respond to the call. It is a matter of no :smalLsignificance, I believe, that the final words of Jesus in John's gospel are: "Follow me" (Jn 21:22). Continuing the Invitation: Vocation Ministry What does this never-ending invitation mean for us religio.us? What does it tell us, not only about our own response to Jesus' call, but about the mess-age we takb to the ~vorld? We have noted that Jesus' invitation flows from his expe~rience. He knows the Father, and the life that the Father gives~ Be.cause he knows, he Can ~nvite clearly, concisely and with authority. As men and women who have made life choices for the kingdom, and who have shared, at least in part, in the life of the kingdom, we too can invite others to embrace th~ kingdom. As men and women who have clearly chosen community and. ministry in the Church, we can invite others to conside~ community and ministry in the Chhrch as optionsfor.themselves. As men and women who have experieficed joy and. peace and life in these choices, as well as hardship and even pain, we can invite with the same confidence of Jesus, for we, too, know the burden and the gifts of the kingdom. In fact, Oot only can we continue to issue the invitation of Jesus, but in a certain sense, we have a responsibility to issue that invitation. !n a world where nuclear holocaust seems imminent, where starvation is the daily experience of millions, where poverty, unemployment and illiteracy a.re the lifestyle of whole ~egments of the world population.---in such a world, we who have been given the knowledge of the kingdom have a responsibility to call others to build that kingdom. In a world where people, especially young people, are searching for meaning and significance in their lives, where many live in confusion caused by crises of every kind, where whole societies are caught in the race for economic and political superiority--in such a world, we who have been promised the everlasting life of the kingdom have a responsibility to share that gift with this world. It is not that we .are holier o.r wiser than the rest of the world. Rather, we have been given the gift ~of a vision of how things can be. It is not our vision; it is God's vision that we have been given. And because we have 176/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 been given the vision, we must also bear theresponsibility--sometimes the burdgnsome responsibility--of calling others to God's vision. As religious, we have publicly proclaimed with joy and faith our desire to be a part of the kingdom, and that desire has been accepted joyfully by God. Now we must set ourselves to the task of inviting others, with our lives, to the ultimate meaning and significance which God's vision, the vision of the Kingdom, holds for the world. In the course of this lived invitation, we, like Jesus, must invite others clearly, concisely and directly to join us in bringing about God's vision for the world. We have the responsibility to say to people: "Sell all you have, give to the poor, and come away to proclaim the kingdom of God!" We must invite those with whom we work and pray and live to "Come and see" what we have seen. Like Jesus, our invitation will have authority if its motivation is love and its roots are found in our lived experien.ce. Thus, if we have found the meaning and significance of the kingdom in our religious commitment, in our community life, and in our ministry, then we must invlte others to that same experience. If religious life has been the context of God's kingdom for us, then we must invite others to consider that same context for themselves. We cannot deny others the opportunity that is ours, the gift we have been given in religious life. I believe that not to make others aware of this gift, not to speak of God's vision for us, and most importantly, not to invite others to consider this gift for themselves would constitute such a denial. I believe that vocation ministry if you will, the ministry of invitation and discovery--can be a powerful means of carrying on the invitation of Jesus. A Philosophy of ¥ootion Ministry Vocation ministry has emerged in recent years as a valid and accepted ministry in the ~Church. This emergence is due in large part to a new u~nderstanding of vocation ministry, an understanding which has its foun-dation in the model of 'invitation which Jesus provides in the Gospel. Unfortunateiy, this approach to vocation ministry is not' understood by many religious, and consequently keeps them from supporting the voca-tion efforts of their communities, and even more importantly, from involv-ing themselves in these efforts. As we have seen, vocation ministry, when considered as a ministry of invitation, is modeled by Jesus. But such an understanding of vocation ministry is relatively new. There was ~ time in the not too distant past (and which still e~xists today in some circles) when vocation ministry was consi-dered to be "recruitment," and the person who did this work was known as the "recruiter." This designation was appropriate at the time, for the person Vocation Ministry / 177 who served as a recruiter for a religious community attempted to find and enlist people, especially young peol~le, who seemed suitable for her or his particular community. The religious recruiter was searching for people to carry onthe work--the good work---of her or. his congregation. The job of the religious recruiter was similar to that of recruiters for the military, for schools or for corporations: namely, to ensure the continuance of the group's interests. The beneficiary of this process was the group and in 'the case of the religious recruiter, the beneficiary was her or his community and the people the community served. The term "recruitment" and the philosophy ~vhich it designates does not fit what Jesus does in the Gospels when he invites people to follow him. I believe that as the work of "recruitment" becomes more and more pat-terned after the model of invitation which Jesus provides, we need to call it by another name. It is at this point that we can begin to speak of "vocation ministry." The difference in language is reflective of the difference in philos-ophy and practice. It is, in fact, the difference between "recruitment and ministry," and it is shown in a new role for the person who does this work. This role is no longer one of serving primarily the needs of the congrega-tion, but is one of serving the needs of the people with whom the vocation minister works directly, the people whom she or he assists in discovering how and where and with whom the Lord calls them to build the kingdom. The priorities of the vocation minister have changed, from a focus on ensuring that the life of her or his congregation continues by enlisting people into the order, to a focus on ensuring that people discover who it is that God calls them to be. The agenda from which the vocation minister works has changed, from being primarily the order's agenda, to being primarily God's agenda. To some, such differentiation rhay seem too subtle to be of any impor-tance; .it may even seem like hairsplitting or word games. I believe, how-ever, that it is not too subtle, nor is =it hairsplitting, nor is it word games. For when looked at from the perspective of the person attempting to discern God's call, and especially the young person faced with fife-choices to make, there is a world of difference between the recruiter who wants that person to be a sister or brother or priest, and the minister who wants to help that person discover where God calls him or her to build the kingdom, where life will hold the most meaning for him or her, with no preconceived notion of where that might be. I contend further that, when considered from God's perspective, there is an ~ven more profound difference between "recruitment" and "ministry." It is the difference between the recruiter who believes that the continuance of her or his congregation is in the recruiter's hands, and that it is up to the recruiter to supply the needs of the order; and 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 the minister.who trusts that God callg people to build his kingdom as sisters,, brothers, priests, married people and single people, and belieVes that her or his role is to act as Jesus did in inviting people to listen for God's .call and to act on it. Such a stand places the responsibility for supplying the needs of the order in God's hands, and~ recognizes the responsibility of the vocation minister and° the members of the congrega-tion to act as instruments-of his call by issuing the invitation to the kingdom. ~ Vocation ministry, and not recruitment, is the responsibility of every religious. It is a responsibility which stems not from fear for the future of religious life, but rather from the fact that each of us has been given a great and wonderful gift in religious life, a gift which must be shared with others. Our invitation to religious life is given in the context of the kingdom: because we have known the kingdom in our life and ministry with one another, we'invite others to that same experience. It is not recruitment for a particular order that vocation ministry is about; it is an invitation to nothing less than the kingdom of God that we,. as religious, must be about. The Challenge to Re!igious When vocation ministry is seen not as recruitment but as a ministry whose foundation is the model of invitation, which Jesus himself offers, an entirely new challenge is given to .religious. It is a challenge which brings about a n.ew set of questions: --Have I ~experien~ed the kingdom of"God? Where and with. whom was that experience~of the kingdom ? --Is the experience of living in religious community and doing Church ministry an experience of the kingdom for me? --Do I sense both the responsibility and the desire to share the king-dom with others by inviting them to build the kingdom? -~Am I willing to invite others to consider religious community and Church ministry as a way of building the kingdom, a way which has been life-giving and Satisfying for me? I believe that we religious can continue to invite others to join us i~n community and m~nistry. Some Of those whom we invite will join us; others will find another flay of building the. kingdom; still others~will go away sad. But vhatever the response, we can continue to invite, secure in the knowl-keidngged otmha~t,, tion wouhric rhe lwigei oinuvs i~teo mthmosiet mwehnotm, w we eh maveee tb. eOenu rg iinvveinta"ati osnh ai'sr.em iont it-he vated not by fear of the fu(ure, but rather by a sincere desire to share the gift we have been given, With joy ~and confidence we can coniinue to spe~k the invitation of Jesus: "Come away and proclaim the kingdom of God!" Gentle Exile: Reflections on Formation Mary Ellen Dougherty~ S.S.N.D. After a long stint in formation work for her community, Sister Dougherty has returned to the teaching of English. Sh.e may be addressed at The College of Notre Dame of Maryland; 4701 N. Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210. Shortly.before I finished a long term in formation work, I told myself that eventually I would write an article that might be of use to others in that ministry. I waited. I needed distance. After a year or so, subjectivity settled into uncertainty. I did not know what I wanted to say. Now, more than four years later, I think 1 do. ~ Initially, I would have commented on the characteristics of candidates currently interested in religious life, the inevitable challenges in dealing with them, and the necessity of both structure and latitude in a formation program. I would have talked about the generosity of young people in ministry, their ambivalence about vows. Now, however, I would like to focus on formation, personnel. 1 address my remarks especially to those who are in the work, and to those who .are considering it as ministry. In more than.eight ye~ars in this ministry, I worked, directly, in various team arrangements, with eight different directors. As director of novices, I participated, with the novices, in intercommunity programs in which directors shared on a regular basis. I speak, then, out of my own experience, and out of some ongoing reflections with at least two dozen directors, men and women. And I speak, still, tentatively. These are my insights now. In many ways I was nbt an effective director. In some ways I was. I have learned from both. I do not think there is a standard profile for a successful director~ There are countless variations on virtues that could be 179 1110/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 considered. Certainly a consistent attitude and practice of prayer, along with a keen mind and a clean heart, are essential. Inner freedom issuing from a clear depth of uncluttered spirituality is central. It is not my intention, however, to explore these here. That, perhaps, is another article. I would like, instead, to address three fundamental areas which, in practice, prove t.o be crucial: experience, affectivity, and integrity. Experience Age, I think, is only a factor for the director insofar as it permits experience. What one has done is not necessarily what one has experienced. To receive experiences of poverty, failure, darkness, in the light of grace, balanced with experiences of fulfillment and productivity, requires time; one must have lived long enough and well enough to know the inevitability of the rhythm, to expect the seasons to change. In that sense, age is important. It is not just what one has experienced, but what one has not experienced that should be consid~reff. One who has been given the time to live as well as the time to die, and has learned to receive both with equanimity, has lived long enough. And one who has not, should not be expected to deal with her own discoveries easily in the context of formation work. Events may always surprise us; the curr~nt of life should not. Affectivity I am not professionally equipped in terms of academic background t6 talk about the psychology of affectivity, or stages of affective development. My observations are purely practical: when the affective or relational life of a director is undeveloped or undernourished, there are generall~ relational problems with those she is directing; these are Often lodged in some variation of dependency, usually mutual. The director, from my observa-tions, usually takes the relationship more seriously, in the long run, than the candidate; the director seems to have some expectations of permanence, whereas the candidate, especially if she is young, is more than likely to tr~insfer her emotions rather quickly. There often is, however, some degree of mutual destruction. It is essential, 'then, that formation directors have the capacity for, and the activity of, peer relationships, that over the years they demonstrate an ability to interact in friendship with inutuality and absence of unwarranted dependency. The demands of formation work are constant and draining, especially if the director is living ~vith her directees. Candidates, especially younger ones, often exhibit a love-hate response toward authority. Unless the director has a belief in her own lovableness, created by a deep personal sense of God, and the experience of significant peer relationships over the years, she can be quickly undone. So can those Gentle Exile / 1111 she directs. Oia the other hand, a director who has a variety of relationships, and who is secure in at least a few of them, is not likely to need her directees. She may, over the months or the years, develop some friendships among them, but these will be a matter of choice, not of necessity. Integrity, Given a person who has lived long enough and loved hard enough, we come to the point of integrity, which I use in a limited sense here. I speak only of that dimension of integrity which enables one to experience some independent clarity about the truth, and to be faithful to it in spite of opposition. It is not my intention to suggest moral judgments. Like many people in positions of authority, formation directors must be able, if necessary, to stand alone. They must be capable of making and living out graced decisions which may create great conflict. And they must be as capable of independent thinking as, they are of consultation. A director who is not comfortable thinking for herself, who relies too heavily on approval and too little, on her own graced instincts, is usually transparent to her directees; wittingly or unwittingly, they may use her. While the need for dialogue, for collaboration, for consensus cannot be overstated, neither can the need for slow, clear, independent decisions that begin in the deepest level of self, where, in the face of opposition, integrity, a matter of grace, becomes a manifestation of courage. When all is said and done, it is fidelity (or infidelity) to the graced self with whom one must live. There is nothing new under the sun. The ability to receive experience and to let it become wisdom; the calbacity to love and to be loved without ownership; the self-possession and the faith to risk a gentle (or not so gentle) exile--these are characteristic of any authority who claims Jesus as her source. If formation work is anything, it is daily. If anyone needs Jesus as her source, a formation director does. Working with the Young Adult with Temporary Vows Vito Aresto, EM. S._ Brother Aresto is Vice Provincial and .Director of Formation for,the Poughkeepsie (NY) Province of the Marist Brothers. Heohas been ,working with brothers under temporary profession for more than six years. He may be addressed at his Vice-Pro-vincial Office: 4200 W. l i5th Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Much has been written over the last several years about_the conditions and problems of the yoeng adult within formation programs of, religious life. Since many of the young people who come seeking this new lifestyle come after years 9f college or work experience, formation directors are finding that the traditionally tried and true methods, of formation~seem to contain significant gaps when dealing with this new kind of person. The problem becomes even more complicated when the young person is in t~emporary vows. In this paper I would like to delve into some of the significant areas that have emerged in my working with our temporary professed. For the most part they are young men who have achieved rather comfortable recogni-tion professionally. They have taken their first vows in their middle twen-ties and look forward to years of growth and service within religious life. Final profession comes somewhere around age thirty. Developmental psychology has examined this period of growth young adulthood with great earnestness. Clearly, it is being recggnized that as life develops it confronts, struggles, and tackles successive issues in life's fabric and resolves them only to move forward to confront still newer issues towards growth. Such progress is noted as maturation, growing in one's potential, developing into a full human person. ~Vorking with the Young Adult . When the issues of spirituality are overlayed upon this rich process, we begin to see something of the concept of conversion. Obviously, when one begins to probe conversion, there is a point where even the best of the social sciences"pales before the mystery of faith: But nonetheless, we can learn much about growth and developmenL particularly in the struggles of a young adult who is attempting to find his or her place within a religious .family. This unfolding of life's grandeur and mystery is not at all easy. It can never be pain free if it is authentic. For the formation personnel working with young religious a good grasp of this process is obviously needed. Crisis needs to be viewed as part of the human drama, and neither .overstated nor underplayed. Rather the formation director can be a calming influence for~ individuals as they probe the' issues and unravel a course of action. In this light it is also very important to note that the director ~should be very comfortable with assisting the young adult to tap into such helping services as therapy or spiritual direction. It is important to realize that the varying issues which emerge are not all vocational conflicts. Rather some very necessary growing-pain situations may be interpreted as "vocational,' which in actual fact are merely struggles with growth issues. At other times personal,life issues may be confused as stress issues needing therapy, but are deeply vocational. Finally, there may be.a blend of both. It is the task of the formatioh director .as calming influence to help the young person wade through the issues, and recognize where they lie. In naming the dil~.~a, the course.to resolution becomes less threatening. For most young religious the transition from novitiate life to active ministry carries with it some straining adjustments. There is a great differ, ence between accepting the need to integrate the essential elements of reli-gious life and actually attempting to do so. This strain to interpret and realize the ideal can either bring about growth in young persons, or have them develop a selective sense which, ma~y in the long run distort growth. Each person must face honestly that the balance of the essential elements of the religious life structure cannot be merely put aside for some personal notion of the greater good. In the long run true growth for the young religious only takes place in confronting each aspect of vowed life as important, and then developing a proper rhythm for themselves. Fidelity to their vowed commitment must be presented as their primary work, By doing this they will be realistic in discerning this lifestyle within their congregation and how it truly fits into their own needs ~ind response to the Lord and his people. This approach, one that asks young persons not to compromise any aspect of their vowed commitment, even when faced with the tremendous 11t4 / Review for Religi~ous, March.April, 1986 pressures of the varying adjustments of prayer, community and apostolate, is utterly honest in recognizing and treating religious as adults. The fact remains that as they unravel their dreams and expectationsi they must also be totally immersed in what actually is the life they now share in their new religious family. This task can become even more burdensome as the young religious begin to recognize and feel the depth of confusion, and even sinfulness within their chosen religious family. Yet, within this sobering reality one fundamental task for.the temporary professed religious is to come to real-ize whether their dreams can be honestly integrated within this particular congregation. If this cannot be done then an honest and courageous act would be to depart. The Lord is not asking anyone to surrender his or her dreams, nor is he asking the impossible in great and massive adjustments to what a person holds sacred to the purpose and direction in life. It becomes the task of the formation director to help and accompany the young religious in this discerning process. But the director should never water down or compromise in the name of charity what he or she knows are realities incompatible to the values and goals of the congregation. Furthermore, the director must a.lways make the distinction between fidel-ity to a lifestyle and fidelity to the Lord. The young must come to realize that commitment to Jesus as their Lord can be lived in all the genuine forms and calls to holiness within the Church. Hopefully, the novitiate process has solidly grounded these young persons in their commitment to Jesus. Temporary vows must focus on the parameters of this particular religious family and charism as one valid and true means towards holiness for this young religious. Therefore, a truly respectful and, honest relationship must exist between the formation direc-tor and the young religious so that.real growth and integrity can develop. It is of paramount importance then, that the young,~religious' dreams must be found to be possible in the congregation they have chosen to enter. This is not only vitally important for the growth and development of the young religious, it is also vital for the growth and development of the congregation. The life given to this young religious by God is also a gift of life for all the members of the congregation. When such interaction is in process a certain sense of peace and purpose prevail. When it is. not present one readily begins to sense and hear bitterness, sarcasm, and resentment., Understanding the vital need of a dream in a young religious' life must therefore be one of the important areas into which a director must examine and explore. The novitiate will set up ideals that are solidly grounded in spiritual and scriptural foundations, but these ideals will not be realized except in the attempt at the actual riving out of community within, a local Working with the Young Adult / 1115 setting. It must be realized that each local community is itself struggling to unravel the full meaning and purpose of its shared life direction. Although young religious may leave the novitiate in full recognition that life is a process of growth and integration, it will only be in the experience of community that they will begin to understand the journey with their broth-ers or sisters that they have begun. Therefore, understanding the dreams and also knowing deeply the real struggles of this religious family is a task that each formation director must grasp when dealing with temporary professed. Ultimately, the focus must be turned completely on the Lord. He must remain the very purpose and intention of the young religious. Service will only .spring from the well of deep commitment to the Lord who loved all people even, unto death. More times than not, the young religious' grasp of the importance of intimacy is also wrapped up in their understanding of their dream. They do not enter religious life accepting the fact that there will be little or no intimate relationships in their lives. Obviously, religious life does afford the opportunities for a rich relational life; but that can only come through the struggle of integrating the vows in the light of each one's intimate relational needs. For young religious who must deal with this issue through the maze of the various transitional periods of growth, the very issue of intimacy can become pivotal to successful integration, and thus to peace within this chosen lifestyle. The movement towards dealing with one's~relational life also has impli-cations for community and ministerial life. In community this can expand one's depth of compassion, and in ministry it can help focus one's work beyond the notion of career to an expression of the Lord's service con-tinued through his Church. Each step of this awareness will heighten the young religious' recognition that he or she has truly been called by Another. Gradually imprinted upon the life and work of each young reli-gious is the paschal ,mystery, each one's transformation into Christ. The weathering of growth issues can therefore be the seed for a deepening of vocational understanding that is not only personal but intimate with the Lord. As young religious move closer to their thirtieth year there is to be noted a very subtle but careful evaluation taking place. Some significant issues have emerged and been confronted. The young religious also begin to recognize.that all the aspects of their dreams and aspirations may not be completely realized. They begin to feel, and not merely know, the implica-tions of being chaste and obedient. The cultural values of their society, with its push towards success, ambition, and recognition weigh on their poverty. Ultimately, as final commitment approaches, so does the trauma of the 186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 "second calling." It is at this moment that the formation director must gently accompany~the young religious. The time for mentofing has ended. It becomes important that unconditional acceptance pervade the whole relationship, If the journey through those years of temporary vows has been honest and rich in successful and mature handling of life issues, then the response to this second calling--a permanent commitment to the Lord within this congregation--will~ be made with the totality possible to this young adult. Fundamentally, as one accompanies young adults~through their initial years of religious commitment, one quickly realizes that formation is.lrela-tional growth. The young religious come eager to respond to the Lord~. Their response has been wrapped and colored within their dreams of Ltheir future life and ministry. Novitiate naturally assists in a solid grounding and underpinning, but it°is not until there is full immersion in the daily routine of life in common and in ministry that they begin to confront and grow within their religious commitment. For the formation director the journey of this pilgrimage is one of trust and love. Ultimately, the individual must come to a sense of'personal peace. This peace is only born in the honest relational growth between each individual and the Lord, between the individual and his or her brothers or sisters, and the individual and the people they are sent to work with and serve. This peace should become the full flowering of a love that rests solidly on the motivation and direction of a life-decision made to the Lord and his people, within this special band of disciples that he or she chose for a religious family. '~ Reflectively, we can turn to Jesus as the model for the formation director who works' with young adults. Particularly is this so if we. focus upon his dealings with Peter. Here we note the care and compassion that must be evidenced by the director. For three years Jesus guided, taught and challenged Peter. These lessons werenot ~beyond the scope of correction and prodding, but they were also done in sincere and tender cbncern. And yet when the supreme :momefit for Jesus arrived, his hour of glory, Peter was still unaware of the magnitude of Jesus' mission. Much like the novice who enters first profession, Peter needed to continue to grow and ~be challenged, even in the darkness of near despair. It was not until the depth of his relationship with the Lord was securely grounded that Peter was ready to shepherd. Only then did he fully comprehend the-initial call that was repeated in the marvelous second calling at the end of John's gospel, "Do you love me? . Come, follow me!" Strangely enough in that rich relational bond between Peter and the Lord did his fondest dreams become rei~l. He no longer needed~io hold Working with the Young Adult / 187 tightly to privilege or rank. Now he no longer saw himself as solely the "rock," but rather could he challenge all that he shepherded to be "living stones," part of the "edifice" of the Lord and his Church. He understood clearly all that was needed to continue the process of growth, a journey into wholeness and holiness. For the young religious the journey is similar. The director must guide and accompany them so that the echo of the initial call of the Lord can be profoundly realized and incorporated into the very identity and dreams of these young persons. Permanent commitment becomes a full expression of a relationship that is central to their meaning and purpose. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life by" ~Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on .,the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cru~ciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review ~or Religious Rm 428 ~3601 Lindell Blvd. St: Louis, Missouri 63108 Commitment in a Religious Order: A Sociological View Joseph C. Doyle Dr. Doyle teaches at Seton Hall University (South Orange Ave; South Orange, Neff Jersey 07079), where he may be addressed. There is a special quality about people who are committed to something, whether it be to another person, a group, an organization, a career, or an idea. That quality can be captured by such words as "loyalty," "allegiance," or "steadfastness." For to be committed is to be involved in a relationship which has priority in one's life over alternative relationships or only one-self. This does not mean that a person's other involvements are ignored bu.t only that when push comes to shove this relationship has singular importance. Obviously, this is a key feature of religious life, for the purpose of religious orders is to foster growth in each member's commitment to Christ. In fact, it has often been assumed, both by people within and without such institutions, that this is the sole ~ocus of the members' ~om-mitments-- that they "have the faith." In the past fifteen years or so, how-ever, the large scale exodus of members from the various forms of religious life has raised serious questions in many quarters concerning this one dimensional view of religious commitment. In particular, such authors as ~Marie Augusta Neal,~ Helen Ebaugh,2 Lucinda San Giovanni,3 Richard Schoenhern and Andrew Greeley,4 and Patricia Wittberg5 have all attemp-ted to shed a social scientific light on some of these questions. This paper is meant to be a reflection on some themes developed out of this tradition. It will attempt to present the results of some findings gleaned 188 Commitment in a Religious Order / 1119 from interviews with twenty women involved in a religious order in the eastern United States. Its major interest will be the way commitment in religious life passes through different forms, forms which seem to be affected by the kinds oof structures established by religious orders and by the way their members respond to these structures. It is, of course, danger-ous to generalize from a group 6f this size. Thus, the following remarks should be read as an'effort to explore some pertinent issues in the quality of commitment rhther than to offer a definitive statement on these issues. I. Sociology and Commitment Because this paper relies upon insights developed in sociology, perhaps it would be helpful to first briefly explain some key sociological ideas concerning commitment before delving into the material from the in/er-views. Over the past thirty years or so, sociology has developed a number of concepts for dealing with the experience of commitment. By and large, these ideas are rooted in the perspective that c6mrnitment is the result of certain ,mechanisms operating in groups or organizations that mold indi-viduals into loyal members. Thus; the primary attention is on how these social factors operate to produce a committed person. One of the more prominent efforts in this field can be found in the work of Rosabeth Kanter, particularly in her book Commitment and Community.6 While the analysis that follows utilizes these insights, it also attempts to show how individual members of a religious order responded to these forces and tried to grow beyond them. Kanter views commitment in terms of three interrelated dimensions: instrumental, affe.ctive.and moral. In addition, each of these dimensions is the result of a set of factors bY which a community leads its novices into full membership. By instrumental commitment Kanter means a felt attachment to a social role that is more rewarding or less costly than the roles outside of the community. In this kind of commitment the person wants to live up to the behavioral expectations that others in the community have of him or her. This attachm~ent is achieved, according to Kanter, by having the novice undergo experiences ,whereby the individual has to invest her time and energy in doing the work of the community and to sacrifice her own possessions on behalf of the community. In this way the person finds himself or herself wanting to remain because of all that has been expended ¯ in the effort to achieve full membership. As Kanter puts it: When profits and costs are considered, participants find the cost of leaving the system would be greater than the cost of remaining; "profit," in a net psychic sense, compels continual part;_cipation.7 190/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 By affective commitment Kanter means an attachment to a set of relationships whose ties are more gratifying than the ties with .alternative relationships. To find a particular,~set of relatio, nships more gratifying than others means recognizing that set as the,primary source of. affection and support in one's life. This dimension is realized by having novice members renounc6 all previous ties of affection as being primary for them and by involving them in communal activities with members of th~eir group. In these ways the new participant comes to develop emotional ties with these others and a cohesive bond develops amongst them. Finally, by moral or normative commitment'Kanter means an alle-giance to the values and norms of the community and a willingness to obey the authority structure of the community as the ultimate interpreter of those norms and .values. However, this allegiance doesonot necessarily develop after a careful evaluation of these norms and structures. Instead, Kanter sees this dimension arising from a set of beliefs and values that have been internalized in an often irrational or unc_ritical way. In Some respects, commitment to norms and values resembles the concept of superego, which binds the evaluative components bf the self t6 norms of a system through an internalized authority.8 The moral commitment of members is achieved, Kanter notes, by techniques that encourage novices to'deny significance to their own ideas and desires and to place their trust more in the community than 'in them-selves. Thus, new members come to see the way of life of the coinmunity as more meaningful than that of competing alternatives. This sociological view of commitment may, at first sight, be rather upsetting to people who form a community in order "to ddepen their rela-~ tionship with God. '-I Would suggest that this reaction is a rather well-founded one. For what sociology has uncovered, and what many of the" religious women 1 interviewed realized after being in their order for a few years, is that there can be a very real difference between commitment to God and commitment to a religious organization. For this latter institution attempts to offer its members a way to God, but lhis "way" is embodied in historically realized rules, procedures;practices and customs that can often become ends in themselves in the minds and hearts of these members. The sociological point, of course, is that a religiouscommunity hasto empha-size these aspects if it is going to survive and so it has to foster commitment to them. Naturally, a religious institution hopes that its" members will develop spiritually by such practices, and many have done so. Nevertheless, as the' following analysis will show, the danger can also be that the corn= mitment does not get beyond these dimensions. How that can'happen and what can be done about it are the concerns of the rest of this paper. Commitment in a Religious Order / "191 II. A Sociology of Commitment in Religious Life A. Internalizing a Theme ~ The model of commitment presented by Kanter can be a useful tool for interpreting the experiences of the twenty women I interviewed. While these women all came from the same order, they varied as far as age (32-63), length of time in the order (9 years to over 40 years), and the kind of positions they held at the time of the interview (teaching, pastoral and the central administration of the order). Nevertheless, they all described their early years in religious life in ways that can b~e captured by Kanter's categories. 1: Internalizing the Instrumental Dimension One of the interesting findings of these interviews was that many of the nuns felt that the years taken up by their training were preoccupied with the proper performance of their duties, with what they called "the externals." In Kanter's terminology they were committed to the role of a religious person. She claims that it is possible for a person just to behave in a committed way, i:e., remain in the group but not necessarily care about the ideals or values of that group.9 While she'herself did not think that this was a full commitment, she did seeit as a possibility. When the nrns were asked about significant changes in their lives, one of the events frequently brought up was when they recognized that they had been caught up in the mere activity of being a nun. For example: when I came to religious hfe I switched to the externals because that is what I thought I was supposed to do and that was what was always talked about., how you dressed, how you performed this and how you did your chores, but I wasn't co~mfortable with that. When we first entered, the activities were important as you grow into being a member of the community. I think at some point you get caught up in the reception of the habit., that is a big day in your life., and you try to act like the pdrfect nun and" that sort of thing. ~ In addition to acting out the role of a reli~gious woman, many of the respondents reported recognizing, a period in their lives when their minis-try, or more pr.ecisel3~, their work, was mrre important to them than any other dimension. Years ago, I guess I was work-oriented and it was the thing that people saw. And the thing I could let go of was my prayer life because no one ever saw that and I wasn't accountable for it. I cou.ld go to confession and say I didn't haeditate that week and that wruld t~ike care of the guilt part. But I never made ~ny cofinectionJwith the rest of iny life. 192 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 As these quotes indicate, the focus on minist.ry and on the proper fulfillment of the "externals" of the religious role were the dimensions to which most of these women became initially committed. ,And, for some of these sisters, the ministry remained central for them well beyond the period of their training. However, while this was a key feature of religious life for many of these women, they eventually began to question the validity of this preoccupa-tion, and for some this orientation is no longer dominant in their lives. 2. Internalizing the Affective Dimension Kanter's second type of commitment was also evident at an early stage of the nun's training. For some of these women, this. involvement in community life coincided with their involvement in ministry. What did you think you were committing yourself to at that~time? I thought I was committing myself to ministry and to community life but not to a deep personal prayer life. I was still struggling with thaIt t.r.i.e. d to take time for it but more often than not, that got pushed aside. What was there about ministry and community life that made you want to commit yourself?. I just" saw goo~d in it. I saw myself functioning very well in it, being comfortable in it, not having any kind of desire not to be there. Some of the other nuns, however, found that a focus on community followed, in time, a commitment to ministry, and sometimes the tension between ministry and community would be resolved in favor of community¯ , ¯. I consider myselfa community-minded person; for whatever reason, ~ prefer working within the community., like coming to the infirmary and working right here with our sisters. I was more than happy todo that. I didn't find myself looking to go really outside of the community. (I. Why was that~ Well, I guess in that it's doing for my own sisters, primarily, rather than people on the outside¯ You are doing the same kind of thing but for whatever reason my preference would be my sisters first. Thus, while ministry may be seen as rewarding, by itself it does not suffice. For this woman and for others, it was and still is a matter of the emotional bond one has with the group with whom she rhinisters that is crucial. Where ministry can be judged in terms of rewards and costs, more non-rational considerations have to be used to judge the relationships one has with others. However, ~s was seen in the discussion of instrumental commitment, this affective dimension did not r6main as dominant for all the nuns. As the following quote suggests, this orientation is no longer as crucial as it once was. Commitment in a Religious Order / 1~ ¯ I really don't know how we remained faithful then. I'm sure if it was another type of community, I don't know, maybe it's because we're more of a family, you know, we feel for one another, um, and that was always our sister, and if you didn't hang in there because your superiors were no good, you'd hang in there because your friends were there. Your commitment to them kind of seemed important to you. 3. Internalizing the Normative Dimension Finally, the third of Kanter's types of commitment was also a focus of allegiance for most of the women during their training. This is particularly obvious in the way many of them had accepted the authority of their superiors during that period. ¯. 1 never felt pressured or stepped on or however people fed. I never felt that. I guess as I entered community it was something I wanted to do. or the Lord called me to do, so I did what I was supposed to do . However, while there were nuns who were very compliant, some found themselves questioning the purpose behind some of the orders. For them, willing obedience was built on an obedience motivated by a fear of being dismissed. Were there people in your class who questioned a lot? Yes, they are no longer here. In novitiate I was very docile. I was probably stupid. If they told me tO do it, I did it because if you didn't do it, they were going to send you home. ~. So you did it out of fear more than anything else. Yes. Yet I liked the days of formation and everything else, but if they said do it, I did it; and when we did it and thought it was crazy, we Used to laugh about it, but we still did it.°, there was no heart in it or anything like that, but we did it to shut them up and get them off our backs. Whether this emphasis on atithority and obedience was complied with willingly or out of fear, it had a dual effect in the training period: it seemed to focus attention on role conformity or the "externals," as was seen before, and it created a sense of dependency on the leadership of the community in many of these women. But in the minds of some Of the nuns, this would often translate into valuing obedience to the rules 'over the needs encountered in one's ministry. Let's say the mother of one of the children was pregnant and her husband had just kicked her in the stomach and kicked her downstairs, and she came to me after ~chool, as did happen once, and when I tried to share with her and show her a little sympathy, I got in trouble because I stayed over in school even though it was that type of thing. I didn't mind getting into trouble, but ! just couldn't understand that whole thing. And in those 1~ / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1986 days, if she came again, I would probably say "I can't see you," thinking that obedience was the greater thing at that time~ While some of the evidence suggests that many of the nuns interpreted this dependency on authority as something they have left'behind, this is not so for all of them. Even with the much publicized changes in convent life, with the "loosening up of the structures," the importance of the normative dimension of commitment still comes through for many of them. As this following quote demonstrates, however, it is internalized dependency: The change that has been significant has been in the individual being responsible for he~'self. We still have in our community superiors in our local convents. However~ the emphasis has been on individuals being responsible for themselves, for the cbmmitment that they have made, for' living according to the rules and the constitution, for keeping the vows . B. l/ariations on a Theme . ~ Hopefully, the preceding exploration has shown that the women I interviewed responded to the demands made upon them in their formation years in the convent .in ways that the order wanted them to respond. In effect, they internalized the theme of religious life espoused by their order. This, of course, is not to pass judgment on the sincerity of intention of any of these women or on the integrity of those tesponsible~for their training. It is instead to recognize what most of these sisters have realized and what Kanter's model of commitment can help us to see: religious commitment is more than simply doing religious things. When attention is concentrated on the activity of being religious without an ~ffort at helpi~ng the novice to discern the place of these activities in an overall lifestyle, then the only result will be religious conformity and a commitment to the means established to realize a life in Christ rather than to that life itself. However, as many of the above quotes intimated, the story of the commitments of these women does not end in mere conformity. Most of the nuns found that by the time of their final vows or in the five years or so after final profession, t.hey had begun the process of perso~nalizing many of the practices they had learned. This effort at personalization took one of two forms: varying the order's style of religious life to meet o~ne's own personality and characteristics, or creating a style of religious life that was in keeping with the core values of that lii~ but no longer was solely modeled on their order's particular historical interpretation of those values. I would now like to explore the first of the~e responses which I will call "variant commitments." In the third pai't of this paper, I will examine the second form.- The term "variant commitment", refers to a more reflective response to 'Commitment in a Religious Order the demands of convent life than the conformist response did. The idea for it comes from another sociologist named Robert Merton.~0 Writing in a different context (but, nevertheless, in one that is still applicable to our purposes), Merton referred to people who were sensitive to the demands of their institutions but were willing to test some of the limits of those demands. He had in mind men of science like Pasteur or Einstein who were committed to the goals of science but who engaged in the kind of research that resulted in new ways of conceiving the world around us. In a similar way, many of the nuns I interviewed were very much committed t9 the goals of their order, but they were also involved in efforts to alter its style of religious living. Where their training had taught them to exhibit routine adaptations to the expectations of the order, they later became more willing to modify these demands while still remaining within the normative character of the community. By briefly looking at some examples of these variant responses in the light of Kanter's model, it will. be possible to show concretely the kind of changes that took place in these women, 1. Variations on the Instrumental Theme It will be recalled that in this dimension of commitment members involved themselves in the performance of those activities that hdped maintain the community as an ongoing entity. In religious life, one of the more important of these role expectations was a faithful participation in the liturgy. For sisters in training the ordinary round of prayer activities became part of the behavior of the "ideal" nun. By the time of final vows, these activities had become second nature to them. Following the Second Vatican Council, however, the order began to loosen its rather rigid structure, and local convents wer9 allowed to establish their own format for commu.nal prayers. This usually involved a group decision concerning the times to be set aside, as well as the particular style the prayer activities would take. In addition, there was also the expectation that individual sisters would develop their own schedul~ and forms for their personal prayer life. Thus, new regulations were made which allowed for more decentralized variation and individual freedom in fulfillment of the order's goal to develop prayerful sisters. The result of these reforms appears to be a more conscious involvement on the part of most of the nuns in this dimension of their lives: The .emphasis, I think, in the younger days was not on my personal religious or spiritual development, as much as it is now., the job is important but the prayer part of it is more important. Ifa decision was to be made that I would have to give up my prayer life to be an 1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 administrator, I think I would give up the administrator part. I'm sure years ago I couldn't have said that. I'm going into my fifth year here, and I was very nervous coming here because I had heard about their prayer life~ But it's really been good. It's more spontaneous than at other places. Like we do the reading of the day, and then we share with each other what they are saying to us or one of us will give a homily. As these quotes indicate, within the overall values of communal and personal prayer, the nuns have sought to fashion attitudes and practices that reflect a more conscious appreciation for these features than was true in their earlier days. This consciousness in some cases was an attitudinal shift, such as the rededication of oneself to a life of prayer;'or in other instances, it was a greater willingness to participate in a variation of public prayer that had not been tried before. In'both examples though, a shift to a more reflective response is evident, and this allows for personal and local variations of a communal expectation. 2. Variations on the Affective Theme The second area of religious life to which most of the nuns can be said to have been reflectively responding is the communal dimension. On both a formal and an informal basis, it is expected that the members will participate in the affairs and functions of the community and that this group will be primary in each person's life. In the period before the Vatican Council, these expectations usually meant a high degree of uniformity among the order's members. In the years following the Council, they frequently have involved rather innovative attempts to develop a greater sense of camaraderie among local community members. This can be seen in the following instances which suggest a changing vision of the meaning of community and a willingness to put into actual practice what some have only been able to dream about. What is your vision of community? I would like it more personal, um, with small groups where there is sharing not only of your work but of your basic spirituality, your vision, and maybe with people that you could work it out with so that your vision could: become a reality. I think the great disillusionment with religious life is that your vision remains a vision and there's not too many to share that vision. We were pioneers. My first year in grad school and after that we lived in a convent and commuted to school. We used to pray together and just try to share our lives. We could do creative things like alternative prayer styles and a lot of sharing about community and about the Lord. Commitment in a Religious Order Of course, not all the women in the group were as originally so enthusiastic about this new style, as the above excerpts may suggest. Nevertheless, those who have tried it have overcome their initial restraint and now see it'as a more beneficial way of living than the older style. Once again, a relaxation of rather rigid structures has allowed for a greater amount of reflective expression and thus for the introduction of alternative approaches to a goal of the order. 3. l/'ariations on the Normative Theme The final dimension that exhibits the effects of a more reflective response to religious life concerns the commitment to the norms and values of the community. According to Kanter this commitment is demonstrated in the supportive attitudes members have toward those in authority and toward the ideology of the group. One of the areas in convent life where an important shift in this dimension has occurred is in the vow of obedience. In the days when the nuns I interviewed first entered and until quite recently, obedience to the "Will of God" meant, in fact, concrete submis-sion to what the s,uperiors interpreted what that "Will" was. Today, this submissiveness, while still expected on a daily practical level, is somewhat tempered by the recognition, in their order's rule, that all the sisters share a genuine responsibility for th6 goals of the community. This basically seems to mean that the individu~il sisters are left alone to freely do what is expected of them rather than have a local superior enforcing each of the rules. Naturally, such a situ~ttion leaves room for individual variation, both attitudinally ahd behaviorally. I guess my attitude is that this is not somebody or something imposing on me, or the constitution saying I have to do it, or I feel that my superior is going to say that you are not doing this or that. There are days, for exahaple, when I don't spend much time in prayer at all for one reason ~or another, because it's ministry, or I'm getting in at midnight and I can't function the next day. But ifI don't do it for a couple of days, I know it and I really.have to say, I have todo it tonight regardless of what else turns up, so that it becomes a priority. I think it puts more responsibility on the individuals for their own lives. Ten years ago the superior was saying no, you may not go. I think it places more responsibility on the individual not to maybe abuse missing prayers or Mass or house meetings or meals . . . there is a little more freedom and people are more relaxed . , . to be more responsible for themselves. As these quotes indicate, members are freer to interpret when a particu-lar rule should be obeyed and when it should not. Of course, this does not i911 ] Review for Religious, March.April, 1986 mean that they can or would do whatever they please with no sense of normative .obligation, Thus, the conscious choice on the part ~of~the member is to decide when there are legitimate exceptions to a given rule and toact on those exceptions. In the long run, however, the orientation of the nuns is to the normative expectations of the order. - ~ C. Creating a Theme Hopefully, the previous section has shown that the story of the com-mitments of the twenty women I interviewed took a new turn in the years after their final vows. Because of the changes in the formal structures of the order, these nuns were able to move from a rather conformist-oriented appioach to religio.us life to an approach that reflected more of each individual's perso~nality and needs. However, while this newer style was more personalistic than before, it still was within the definition of religious life as formulated by the order. Thus, it is still possible for members to be committed to the instrumental, affective, and moral dimensions of their community (albeit, in their contemporary forms) rather than to the com-munity's underlying purpose, i.e., to one's life in Christ. Of course, as I indicated earlier, this is not necessarily in all instances what has happened. Instead, it is to point out a continual danger in community life, a d[inger that some of the nuns themselves have recognized: structured behavior and attitudes, even when they are loosened up, can become a substitute for personal responsibility for the purpose of those structures. This danger and a potential way to avoid it can be captured more clearly by examining the second type of reflective response that the women I interviewed exhibited. Nine of the twenty nuns responded to the ques-tions I raised in a way that was somewhat different from the others. I have called this type of response "creative commitment." By this I mean a commitment to a notion of religious life that reflected the women's struggle with an appropriation of a set of ideals and interpretations that trans-cended the institutionalized approach in which they found themselves. This did not mean an outright rejection of their community. Rather, it was an attempt to combine themes learned from sources outside the order with the basic values learned from the community into a more personal style of sisterhood than the one in which they had been trained. Their involvement in the community, is now no longer predicated on the constraints the institution can bring to bear on them. Instead, since their commitment is to a vision~of what religious life can be, they have relativized the role that the community has in their lives. This rather abstract definition can be made more.concre[e by compar-ing some of the "variant responses" some of the nuns made to the questions Commitment in a Religious Order / 199 I asked with the "creative responses" nine of the women mad~ to the same questions. As before, these responses can be presented in terms of the model developed by Kanter. I. Relativizing Instrumental Commitment The first dimension of concern will be the attitudes of the nuns toward the role of a sister. In order to ascertain the overall quality of a member's role involvement in the order, I asked what perception each one had of herself as a sister. As the following quote exemplifies, many of the~s.e women have adopted the role of a nun as traditionally defined, ~that is, as one who is supposed to represent in a special way the presence of the sacred in human life. To be sure, they do not appear to be caught up with the prestige symbols of the role--the habit, the title, the little signs of respect. But they dowish to see themselves perceived as religious women, as part of a religio, us organization, and in this sense, the institutional role is important to them. How do you see yourself as a sister? That's hard to answer. I guess. I am living out what I think I am called to be, but I am not just living it for me. but for other people~ Do you mean what effect you have on people? ¯. Yes, like when people ask me to pray for them or for members of their families. I'm not just some fixture or some teacher. Do I convey the o message of Christ to people? Do I carry the name of (order's name) well, and what that community is about, or do I downgrade the community? In comparison with this perception, the following nun appears to dis-tinguish herself and her role as. a sister. While being a nun is important to her, it is not her whole self. This type of perception cropped up °quite often in discussions with these nine women. In effect, the role has been redefined from being a place in an overall organization to being a vehicle for allowing a more personal style of religious life to be expressed. What that,style is depends upon the individual and how she understands herself; but in general, it seems to encompass an effort to live out the central values of Christianity as these are being interpreted by contemporary thinkers. This woman's notion that "sisterhood" includes her relationships with whom-ever she meets is an indication of this redefining process. when I first came to the community, I saw a sister as functional, whereas now I see sister as a relationship that is not only to the people that I work with but it is. much more universal in a sense. It is me as I relate to whoever it may be . It's much more a sense of I am who I am and a good part of who I am happens to be a sister and what lproject is all of me, the totality of life. 200/ Review for Religious, March,April, 1986 2. Relativizing Affective Commitment The second area of discussion deals with the emotional ties members develop toward the relationships they have in the order and toward the order as a whole. The quality of these ties can be captured by the reaction of members to questions concerning the possibility of the order disbanding. While this is an admittedly hypothetical situation, the reactions of the sisters revealed their attitudes towards the community as a whole. For example, as the following citation suggests, many of the sisters see their well-being as tied up with the well-being of the order.~ Because they tend to seetheir lives as coextensive With the life of the community, these women can be said to~ have Committed themselves to the institution. What would happen if your community died? I would be very sad. As a person I think it would be devastating. I guess the charisma of the (order's name) community is important to me. I chose to belong to a group, and this group meant something to me. for whatever reason they became important. I chose to make final vows, and I chose to make it something permanent in my life. When this response is compared with the following one, however, a different understanding of this relationship is revealed. According to this woman, the institution exists to serve a need; and if it no longer can do this, then the nuns should disband and find other communities. This willingness to let go of what must be a home for this woman suggests a degree of autonomy that was also present in the other more innovative nuns. But this autonomy should not be interpreted as a cold independence from the order for-it seems to rest, for each of these women, on a distinction they have made between tbeir particular order and their understanding of religious life in general. In their interpretation of the order, it exists as a means to realize their religious ideals. Thus, religious life is always broader than the order's way of approaching it and for them it is their approach to that life that counts. I don't know exactly. I don't know if I would; then I would look and see if another group would like to get together to form something else, or if I would join another group. I don't think I would be upset. I wouldn't feel that my whole life has gone because I think what this community has done UP to this point has been very good and very worthwhile, and if it is not necessary, it's not necessary. I don't feel any urge to prolong somethin~g that is no longer necessary, so that would not bother me. Another indicator of the relativization of the order in the lives of these women is their willingness to look beyond it for sources of emotional support. While they.were in training, the community encouraged them to develop their personal relationships with their fellow members by severely Commitment in a Religious Order limiting outside contacts, even with members of their own families. Although these nine women still have deep personal ties within their order, they have also consciously developed friendships with others outside of that community, including laypeople. A couple of them have also become part ofqocal communities that are made up of nuns from bther orders instead of the more traditional, homogeneous units. Most of my really close friends have left the community., but it's not quite as dramatic as it sounds because I do have a couple of very good friends who have been very supporting, one who is married who has always supported me. Then. one who I'm even closer to who was in the community who has left. She continues to be one of the most supportive people in my life. It's fine with her that I am here; ~nd it's fine with me that she is there. How many friends do you have outside the community? I'd say that it's probably about fifty-fifty between people within the com-munity and people outside that I really consider myself close to. Four of us broke off from that larger grou.p because we are for'a simpler lifestyle, and we are now living in a house., the three of us from our order, one happens to. be the school person, and two of us who are in .other ministries and then the fourth sister who is from (another order) who is also in another ministry. That's working out pretty well now. 3.' Relativizing Normative Commitment ~ The third area deals with the willingness on the part of members to allow the community to control their lives. Over the past fifteen years or so, the order has loosened up its authority structure somewhat so that now the nuns are encouraged to speak their minds more so than they were in ~he past. Nevertheless, the ultimate expectations for many of the women is .that it is their duty to obey the wish of the superior. As this example demon-. strates, the notion that "the voice of the superior is the voice of God" dies hard. My attitude towards religious life, I don't think, has basically changed in the sense that I still fed that my superiors, those who are in charge, whatever they would ask I would accept it in the same wa~y I did years ago. I would question now, not saying that I wouldn't.do what they asked, but I would question it now. While the above quote demonstrates an attitude toward obedience that can be characterized as superior-oriented, the next citation reveals another approach to this subject. Instead of first looking to what the superior wants, this nun believes that one should first be obedient to oneself. The distinction is crucial for it places the sister on a par with her superior.and 902/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 enables her to exercise genuine responsibility for her own life. This is probably the most important characteristic of the innovative nuns because it seems to be that which distinguishes them most clearly from the others. Although these others often spoke about the necessity of being self-respon-sible, their 6rientation very frequently was to the community and their superiors. On the other hand~ the innovative nuns more frequently were willing to look beyond the institution for grappling with the issues of religious life and to examine any ideas in terms of where they might fit into their own lives, I believe in obedience to the Lord in tune with what is going on with my own inner' feelings, as contrasted to what I may believe in terms of the' voice 6f the superior although I don't deny that. I think you have to listen ¯. but I would say I would be more in tune with obedience to God; I would say that it's a little more,obedience to myself than I would say obedience to the vow or to the superior. Interestingly enough, one of the ways in which these women have sought to take responsibility for themselves is precisely in the area of the vows. One of the features that comes across very clearly is their desire to distinguish their understanding of the vows from the institutionalized ver-sion. This does not seem to mean an idiosyncratic interpretation of them that is divorced from what other approaches, even institutionalized ones, may offer. Instead, it seems to involve an effort to formulate a conception of the vows that takes into consideration what others,may say; but at the same time, ~it-attempts to create out of ,them an understanding that responds to the personal needs and goals of the individual herself. It should be pointed out that by the term "other interpretations" is meant sources of meaning outside the order, including the general culture, contemporary sourcbs' within the order, as well as the more traditional interpretations, whether they come from formal or informal sources. What seems to be crucial, .in any event, is the consciousness of these sisters of the difference between saying what others have understood what the vows mean and saying ,what they personally think they mean. I took these vows, but I thought. I'm doing my job, I'm praying, so don't b~ther me about the vows . !~ow looking back, I probably detached the vows from the life, or I said I have to take these vows in order to live this religious community life that I want to live. Now what's it like? ~ Now it's thinking about it and reflecting on it and saying there is some-thing more to this and I don't know what it is yet . I could tell you what ~ so and so says and what the books say, but personally., what do I think, Commitment in a R~ligious Order that's what I'm coming to. When you started to reexamine the vows, did you find yourself coming to a personal interpretation of them, or did you sifnply accept the given interpretation? Oh no! I made my own interpretation, and whether that's right or wrong, it's something l'm going to have to live with. No, I think it's my own personal thing . I have been attempting to distinguish creative responses to institutional demands from variant responses to these same demands. Hopefully, this has clarified the difference between the two. If 1 have been interpreting this material accurately, then a commitment can be said to be creative when the individual personally recognizes the primacy of her relationship with God in her life. That happens, it seems, as the individual assumes greater and greater responsibility for that relationship and the role of the order becomes more secondary as far as that relationship is concerned. In other words, the institution becomes a vehicle whereby a person can live out a way of life that she has created. As the following sistei~ asserted in ~ rather straightforward fashion, the order has become a means to an end hot arl end in itself. I say I commit myself to the Lord through this institution and I never expect that I will break that commitment to t~he Lord. I am not .always saying that 1 make a commitment to an institution: (I. Why no~t~ R. It's just the medium for me. Conclusions I ~began this paper by remarking that religious 9ommitment is often understood in a one dimensional way, as simply a commitment to Christ. Utilizing the insights of sociology, however, it is now possible.to see that religious commitment is a multi-dimensional affair which can often inter-fere with the fuller realization of a Christocentric lifestyle. For instead of a single focus on the proper spiritual characteristics of being a religious woman, this analysis found that members of an order can become more concerned about the instrumental, communal and normative dimensions of sisterhood. The result of this is a preoccupation with the means of religious life rather than its ends. Because this was a sociological analysis, it highlighted the fact that this preoccupation was, in part at least, the result of the order's necessary concern with its self-preservation. This does not mean, however, that such a preoccupation is inevitable. As the information concerning the more creative women has shown, it is also possible to relativize the impact of the " 2011 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 social requirements of communal living and to begin to achieve the under-lying purpose of religious life. But to do this requires an effort on the part of the order to become sensitive to the effects its structures have on the spiritual journey of each of its members and an effort on the part of each member to be radically honest with himself or herself about the real con-cerns which occupy one's life in a religious setting. NOTES ~Marie Augusta Neal, "The Relation Between Religious Belief and Structural Change in Religiiaus Orders: Developing an Effective Measurement," Review of Religious Research 12, 1 (Fall, 1970), pp. 2-16. 2Helen Ebaugh, Out of the Cloister (University of Texas Press, Austin, 1977.). 3Lucinda San Giovanni, Ex-Nuns (Ables, Norwood, New Jersey, 1978). 4Rich~ard Schoenherno and Andrew Greeley, "Role Commitment Processes and the American Catholic Priesthood," American Sociological Review 39 (1974) pp. 417-426. ~Patricia Wittberg, "Transformations in Religious Commitment" REVIEW FOR RELI- ~31OtJS, Vol. 42 No. 2 (1985), pp. 161-170. 6Rosabeth Kanter, Commitment and Community (Harvard University Press, Cam-bridge, 1972). 7Ibid, p. 69: 8lbid, p. 69. 91bid, p. 67. ~ORobert Merton, ~Social Conformity, Deviation, and Opportunity Structures: A Comment on the Contributions of Dubin and Cloward," American Sociological Review 24 (1959), pp. 177-188. Two Forms of Consecrated Life: Religious and Secular Institutes David E O'Connor, S. T. Father O'Connor holds the chair of the Department of Church Law at Washington Theological Union and resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary (9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910). His previous article in these pages was "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practical Considerations," which appeared in last year's March/April issue. Th~ 1983 Revised Code of Canon Law in, canons 573-730 designates both religious and secular institutes as Institutes of the Consecrated Life. This is a new classification in church law, In its simplicity, it is open to some misunderstanding as a juridical oversimplification because, in fact, both types of institutes are very different. This may just be another exam-ple of the limitations of all canonical categories which are not capable of fully expressing the charisms and gifts of the Spirit to the Church. While the members of both forms of~the consecrated life do profess the evangeli-cal counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, their lifestyles manifest two rather divergent forms of ecclesial dedication. The intention of this brief article is to explore some of the similarities and real differences between these two types of consecrated lives and to promote a better appreciation of the distinctiveness,~ the identity and the place each one has in the Church. Let it be stated at the outset that neither form of ecclesial dedication is presented as better or superior tO the other. While canonical religious life has been a recognized and important part of Church life for centuries, it has taken a variety of shapes and forms. Secular institutes, canonically and historically, have received ecclesial recognition only within the last fifty years and are still in the process of trying to have their uniqueness under- 205 906 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 .stood and appreciated. The new Code of Canon Law is a welcome and innovative move in this direction. It is a positive step forward in giving secular institutes the canon-ical identity and ecclesial status which they deserve. In canon 710, the new code describes a secular institute as one in which the Christian faithful living in the world strive for perfection in charity and work for the sanctifi-cation of the world, especially from within. Canon 607, §2 describes a religious institute as one in which the members, according to proper law, pronounce public vows, either.perpetual or temporary, which are to be renewed when they have lapsed, and live in common as brothers or sisters. A quick perusal of these canonical descriptions makes apparent some of the. differences between these two types of institutes. The members of secular institutes are to "live in the world" and work for its sanctification "especially from within." On the other hand, religious are to live "in com-mon as brothers or sisters" and profess "public" vows. These and other distinctive features of both forms of ecclesial dedication need to be more closely examined and elaborated upon in order to manifest the special style of consecration lived by the members of the different institutes. In order to facilitate this examination, a comparison of these two types of consecrated life has been organized under the following five headings: Secularity, Community Life, Apostolic Activity, Evangelical Counsels and Canonical Status. There will be, necessarily, some repetition involved because it is impossible to treat the distinctiveness of each institute without there being some overlapping of ideas. For example, it is not possible to consider the evangelical counsels as lived in religious institutes without considering them in the context of common life. Nor is it possible, to con-sider adequately the evangelical counsels as lived by members of secular institutes without examining them in the context of the secularity which is essential to the life of the members. I ask the reader to be patient in this matter as efforts are made to emphasize the genuine distinctiveness and special characteristics of each form of the consecrated life. Se~.ulariff. The primarY and foremost characteristic of secular institutes is that they are secular. This has been repeatedly emphasized in all the ecclesiasti-cal documents which address the nature and role of these institutes, from Provida Mater Ecclesia (February 2, 1947) and the Motu Proprio, Primo Feliciter (March 12, 1947), through the documents of Vatican II (1962-1965), especially ,Perfectae Caritatis,, 11, to the 1983 Code of Canon Law. It is "secularity" which totally colors the way oof life of the members and is the most significant characteristic of their consecrated way of life. Two Forms of Consecrated Ltfe/ 207 The members remain lay people or secular priests. They are not reli-gious ~nor are they expected to live in any manner which approximates or imitates the religious life.~ In every, sense of the term, they are to cultivate their consecrated secularity as ordinary people; living "in-the world and, as it were, from the world. "~ They should be involved in the social milieu and professional life proper to each member in the concrete circumstances of that member's place, time and culture. Indeed, members are to have a secular outlook and acknowledge themselves as "part" of the world and committed to sanctifying it from within) Hehce, the style of life of the lay members of a secular.,institu~te is that~ of a consecrated person living a rather inconspicuous and ordinary life, holding down a job or involved in a profession, while living alone or wi[h family or friends. Externally they will not appear to be different from any other lay person in a similar situation. Indeed, Pope John Paul II has encouraged them to develop their professional life and to be, at the level of Knowledge and experience, really competent in their specific field of endeavor.4 Religious, on the other hand, are required and expected by/heir own consecrated way of life to have a certain "separation from the world prpper to the character and purpose of each institute.'~ Obviously, this is expressed very differently by monastic communities and by apostolic reli-gious. Members of apostolic religious institutes frequent~ly find themselves immers~ed in the world with similar demands made upon them to have the professional competence required in their particular formJ of apostolate or ministry. Yet, at the same time, they may be more likely to think of themselves, while at the service of people and the Church,.as "being in the world, but not of it." Indeed, they are often readily identifiable as "Church-people" even if they are not wearing a habit or clerical garb. Furthermore, they often live in houses or convents associated with their ir~titutional apostolate which helps identify them as Church-workers. Thus their com-munity lifestyle and their corporate apostolate or form of ministry, in one sense, sets them apart and "separates" them from" the ordinary lifestyle of lay people. There are incarnational and eschatological dimensions" to the life of every Christian. However, it appears that the Church considers thai the incarnational should be especially clear in the Christian life of the dedicated laity and that the eschatological or transcendental should be-particularly manifested through the dedicated life of members of religious institutes. One form of the consecrated life the secular institute emphasizes the goodness of the world and of all God's creation (Gn l:3,1); the Other the religious institute emphasizes the radical discipleship of Jesus which involves some separation from or renunciation of the world (Jn 15:19). 901t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1986 Community Life Some form of life in common or community life has been a part of religious life from timeqmmemorial. It is a clear requirement of the new Code of Canon Law.6 Members of a religious community are to live in a house-of their own institute with their brothers or sisters and under the autl~ority of a religious superior.7 This is the place where they conduct their day-to-day life and offer their companionship and support to one another. It is the place where they gather about the eucharistic table and pray together. It is from there that apostolic religious reach out to others in a variety of ministries and dedicated ecclesial service. Therefore, some form of commu~nity life has been a perennial dimension of religious~ life and presented as an ecclesial witness of Christian love. The common life of religious does differ somewhat fro~a community to community, and is radically different for: monastic and apostolic religious. However, it is a necessary dimension of religious life and one of its special characteristics. Common life is not a part °of the consecrated life of members of secular institutes. While some institutes may have, as part of their particular tradi-tion, residences which belong to the institute, community life is not an expectation, requirement or characteristic of secular institutes in general. In fact, it has often been positively discouraged as contrary to a truly secular style of life and an unfortunate move toward the imitation of a life approp-riate to a religious institute. ~ The secular quality does not permit of community life on the part of mem-o ~rs, even as an option. It is too easy to slip from the notion of a "group" life to that of a "com.mon" life inconsistent with the personl liberty and the vari-ety of commitments which the ideal of presence in the world entails.8 The new 9od,e does not require the administrators or leaders of a secular institute to have their own residence, nor is it necessary to have a house where formation programs can be conducted.9 Members of secular i~stitutes are expected to live as ordinary lay people, either alone or with their families, or in a group as brothers and sisters.~0 Diocesan priests, who are members of a secular institute, likewise, are expected to live as the other priests in the diocese. That is, they are to live in the rectory to which they haye been assigned by their bishop. There is to be nothing unusual or exter-nally distinctive in their style of life in the world. However, as canon 716 of the code states, the members of a secular institute are urged to share actively in the institute according to their own proper law. They are to maintain a certain "communion" among them-selves arid carefully foster a unity of ~pirit and genuine relationships as brothers and sisters. The constitutions and statutes of each institute should specify how this is to be done, but should not imply that cohabitation or Two Forms of Consecrated Life / 209 any form of common life similar to that of religious is expected. It is the obligation of leaders and moderators in the institute to promo.te this spirit of unity and an active participation of the members)~ Apostolic Activity The new Code of Canon Law succinctly expresses the manner in which apostoli~ activity is to be exercised by the members o

Hazel P. Boyle ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 51p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; i Oral History Program Hazel P. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 17 November 2011 ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Hazel P. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 17 November 2011 Copyright © 2012 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection includes interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories date back to the early settlement of North Ogden, and cover various topics including the History of Fort Buenaventura, city government affairs, controversial issues, Latinos in Ogden, personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Hazel P. Boyle, an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 17 November 2011, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Edward and Hazel Boyle July 5, 1952 Edward and Hazel Boyle October 15, 2009 1 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Hazel P. Boyle. The interview was conducted on November 17, 2011, by Rebecca Ory Hernandez. In this interview, Hazel speaks of her early years in Colombia, South America, and of meeting her husband, Edward C. "Ted" Boyle. Hazel tells her oral history, including her life with Ted, traveling and living around the world. Hazel worked with Ted to cultivate important business relationships in the international banking industry with Citigroup. Hazel is now retired and lives in St. George, Utah with her husband. ROH: We are at the home of Ted and Hazel Boyle in St. George, Utah. Today is November 9, 2011. Present are Ted and Hazel Boyle and Rebecca Ory- Hernandez. We'll be talking about Hazel's life story today but I'd like to start kind of in the middle of your story. HB: Actually, I was born and raised in Bogota, Colombia. They named me Hazel Patricia Roskruge Betancourt Mejia before I married Boyle. Those were my maiden names. In Colombia, when you're born it's a very special occasion, so my godmother gave me sapphire earrings. I was six months old before I was baptized in a humungous church called San Victorino, which was in the center of Bogota. Afterwards, I'm sure there was a party. My birth father was German. He had to go to war for his country, so he left Colombia. I understand that he was very well-to-do because he had a ranch and they used to go there on weekends. I don't remember that. He left when I was two years old so I have no recollection of what he looked like, only what my aunts 2 used to tell me. They said he was very handsome and he had olive skin and blond hair and beautiful green eyes. When I was five years old, my mother met a wonderful Englishman and they went to Panama to get married. He was my dad. I loved him very much. ROH: What part of England was he from? HB: He was from Cornwall, Wales. He came from a very big family. There were five young Englishman who came to Colombia together and one of them was my father. He was a gold-mining engineer, so he had a very big job because he dragged all the gold of the country into the Banco de la Republica, which was the biggest bank in the country at the time. We had a very nice life. I had a very fun childhood. After we got out of school we would go up north where there was the camping and there was beautiful home. I learned how to play tennis and I had my own horse when I turned ten. We used to travel up to the mountains in the north. We used to have lots of fun. One day there was a terrible earthquake and I was thrown out of my cot. When we went up north, we would stay at a nice family home and we had cots to sleep in. when that earthquake came, it must have been about four o'clock in the morning and I was thrown out of my cot. There was a lot of commotion and yelling. My mother had a camera and when we looked, there was an enormous cloud outside. I think it was the effect of the earthquake on the volcano. So my mother took a picture. When we went back to the city of Cali, which was where we were living at the time, my mother won a contest with Kodak because of that picture. 3 ROH: What year was the earthquake? HB: It was 1938 or 1939. I was born January 6, 1935 and I was about four years old. Then, I went to private schools because we did not have public schools like there are in the United States. I had my primary education in Cali, Colombia in a prominent Gimnasio Femenino. As a matter of fact, my oldest daughter went there. It's kind of fun because the high school had grown really big and so they were in a different building. It used to be a tiny place downtown. Anyway, we came back to Cali when I was pregnant with Linda, our second daughter. There was another earthquake. When you get married in Colombia, you receive many beautiful gifts—many things that are really sterling silver—and so we had the trays on a ledge in the dining room. Well, I was beginning to have labor pains the night of the earthquake and when the earthquake happened, all those trays came down and made so much noise that my labor pains started going faster. We went to the hospital and I think Linda was born the next day. We moved to another home and had many friends. Then my family had to move to Bogota because my father was retiring. He had finished dredging all of the Rio Cauca and I wish I had been older and more able to pay attention to how they made the bars of gold that went to the bank. My father always had to travel with security people and he always wore a gun. When he would arrive very early in the morning, he would always unarm the gun. One night, he was very tired and he didn't disarm the gun. It was Sunday morning and one of my aunts was playing the piano, my father was downstairs, another of my aunts was upstairs 4 and my mother was taking a bath. In our trips up north, my mother had decided to bring a little Indian girl with us as a playmate for me; her name was Yoselina. She was very cute and my same age. She would help with the chores and things, but she was my playmate. Well this Sunday morning she was fooling around and looking for my dad's lifesavers because he always carried lifesavers and we loved them. Well we were all downstairs and we heard a sound like a pop and my father's face went as white as the wall and he ran up the stairs because he knew what it was—we didn't. He found Yoselina—she had been looking for the lifesavers and found the gun that he had left the clip in. She must have pulled the trigger. It went right through her head and killed her instantly. My room was next to my dad's upstairs and they wouldn't let me up there. That was a lesson for us. I remember that President Roosevelt was campaigning for president in the United States and we were all wearing pins that said "President Roosevelt" even though he was an English man. He had lived in Colombia many years. Anyways, it was time for my dad to retire and so my parents went to Bogota. They had two homes there. It was a very nice area, probably like thirty minutes away from the center of the city. They put me in a dormitory for my last three months of the school year while they moved to the other home. I would get a big basket every week that had homemade bread and homemade jelly. I didn't like to eat the food at the dormitory. When it was time for me to go to Bogota, my father came over to get me. My father's name was Edward Pierce Roskruge. When we got to the airport, I had my ticket and a friend of my father's said, "Edward, is it imperative that your 5 daughter goes today to Bogota?" He said, "No, she can leave tomorrow or the next day." So my father gave him my ticket so that he could go. That was the biggest air crash that Amanca has had in many years and I was saved because my father gave my ticket to his friend. The next day we tried again. I flew to Bogota and we went to our home. My parents had to think about schooling for me so they put me into a school in downtown Bogota and they gave me a test. I passed everything, so they let me skip ninth grade and go into tenth grade. We were there only one year and then my parents transferred me to a school in Marimount, which was in the outskirts of Bogota. It was a nice school and it was imperative that we speak English at school but I didn't like it and never spoke it. I was in the ballet and I had music lessons and I directed music at the conservatory. They kept me close to home—I could have friends over to spend the night but I could never go spend the night at somebody else's home. It was kind of sad. When I had my daughters, I said, "You don't know how lucky you are. You fight among each other and I never had anyone to fight with and my parents never let me go to anybody's house." I think I was a very good student. I was obedient and respectful. I didn't get into any trouble. When I was fifteen years old I had my first dance and party. I graduated in June when I was almost fifteen years old—which is very young. My father wanted me to go to college in England but I was so young that they decided to put me into a secretarial school. I went there for almost two years and I learned how to type and to be an accountant and to do shorthand. 6 ROH: Where was this school? HB: It was in Bogota. Then I was sixteen and my dad said, "There's a job at Citibank that I would like you to go and apply for." I went and they hired me on the spot. That's how I ended up working for Citibank. There were three vice presidents. One was from Barcelona, Spain and he spoke very good English. So that was how I started. Christmas came and I had made lots of friends at the bank. I had seen him [referring to Ted Boyle] come to my boss at the bank with a humungous book to be signed and I thought, "Oh, he is the cutest thing and so skinny, I want to fatten him up." [Laughter] That Christmas, I bought presents for all the girls at the bank. That made me really happy. My mother was always doing civil work. We had a gate around our house and you had to ring the bell at the gate. There was always enough food for us so people would come and ring the bell and mother would bring food for them. I grew up being conscious of people who didn't have money. We didn't have a middle-class in Colombia at the time. Either you were very poor or you were well-to-do. Ted was engaged to somebody else and I was dating a boy who was a pilot who had given me a bracelet—it was not a ring but it was like I was spoken for. I got sick with roseola and I was at home with my friend Graciela and my parents had gone to the movies. The doorbell rang and it was my boss with Ted. I invited them in because I had Graciela as a chaperone. They came in and Ted liked my friend very much. One time he invited me to tea and we went and he said to me, "You know that I'm engaged to be married." I said, "That's fine, it 7 doesn't bother me at all." Little by little we started going out together. But first, he called my mother because that was the nice thing to do and in Colombia you have to be chaperoned at all times. I heard her asking this question, "What are your intentions?" I thought, "My goodness, what is she doing?" I didn't know who she was talking to. Finally she said, "We would like to meet you," and so he was invited to dinner and that was when we got permission to start going out. ROH: How old were you at this point? HB: I was seventeen. At Christmas my parents had a party and I think Ted had written to his girlfriend and told her that he had met someone and kind of broke the engagement. She didn't take that very well so she decided to come to Bogota from New York. He was so nervous. The bank always had a big party at the vice presidents house and she was there, too. So I was sitting on the sofa with my friends and they didn't bother him at all, and he was smoking cigars—he had never smoked anything or had a drop of alcohol in his life—and he was just…oh! It was so awkward. He sent her in a taxi that night. At that time she must have known, "This is it." She looked at me and I looked at her and she must have known who I was. Well he sent her in the taxi and he walked me home. After that, he invited me to go dancing at a night club. After that he gave me his fraternity pin. I liked him so much and thought he was so cute. Later on, it became a real engagement. I had been presented in society at a party where we wear a big beautiful gown. ROH: What color was your gown? HB: White. My hair was all done in the beauty parlor, too. 8 ROH: How old were you? HB: Probably about sixteen. I was very mature in a sense because I was always with older people. I was always with a group with my parents and their friends. You were always with a group—never alone—in those days. Soon enough, he proposed marriage. He asked my mother and he asked my dad. He thought I was very young. We were supposed to have been married in September when I was still seventeen, but he got a transfer in July. He said, "I don't want to go to Barranquilla without you!" So we had to rush with my trousseau. One day, he came in the bank and I said, "Ted, what is wrong with you?" He said, "Why?" I said, "You look yellow." He had hepatitis and he went to the bank doctor and was told that he should go home and they would go there to do the blood tests. They gave him a regime of what to eat. My dad took it on himself—he was retired but still had an office for doing some importing and exporting—and he took it on himself to come and visit Ted. They had a wonderful time. My dad taught him how to play bridge. He spent three months in bed. So we had to be in Barranquilla in July. We rushed through everything to be ready. It was a mixed marriage because I was a Catholic and he was a Mormon—a 'Jack Mormon.' So then the marriage was supposed to be in a beautiful church just four or five blocks from my house where I always went to mass. The priest said, "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about the Mormon religion, but you cannot be married in the church. You can be married on the steps of the church." This was in 1952. I said, "I am 9 not going to be married on the steps of the church." I went to my archbishop; he was a wonderful man. I told him what the problem was and he said, "Hazel, there is no problem. We have a brand new order of Catholic priests that are very modern." They were in a church on a different street. That church was very plain, not gaudy with saints and decorations. It had just one cross. We went to mass there a few times. So the priest there said, "Sure, we will come to your house. The only thing is you have to go to mass that morning and take the Sacrament because we can't bring that into your house." So my house was all beautiful and there were flowers all down the stairway. We had two living rooms. The organ was in one and we were married by the fireplace in the other. It had a curtain and everything. And unbeknownst to me, he had a book of Mormon he put inside the altar. Then there was a big luncheon that was catered. We were married and I went upstairs to change and he had to go through the servant's stairway to change. When it was time for me to leave, I had my doll under my arm and he said, "Where are you going with that?" and I said, "That's my Elizabeth, she's coming with me." He said, "OH no, you don't bring that with you." So I left it. That beautiful doll was giving to me when I first found out that there was not a Santa Clause. I was at a Christmas party and I heard my dog whimper and I woke up and saw someone putting out all my gifts and I cried so hard that night. I was so disappointed. The next morning I said, "Oh! Look what Santa Clause brought me!" I had to say something. But that was the Christmas I got my doll. It was humungous. They had to order it. It had a complete wardrobe of clothes and a swing that she could 10 swing on. She sat on a bed because my room had two twin beds. So she was with me and I had packed some of the clothes and he said, "No." We went to the airport and my good friend Alvarez Gomez loaned us a Mercedes Benz that was going to take us from the house to the airport. A lot of people followed us to the airport. We arrived in Barranquilla and we were met by his new boss. That's how my life changed completely. [Laughter] We spent two days in Barranquilla, then we went to the beach and it was beautiful. We spent two weeks there for our honeymoon. When you get married in the Catholic Church, you have to give thirteen gold coins to the church. I kept that, and the thirteen silver coins went to the curch. They were beautiful coins. The coins were in a box and one night I opened the box and there were only twelve and I was very upset. I told Ted I'd lost one of them. We would be in and out going sailing and going swimming at the beach. In our hotel, you had to go up some steps and through a gate and when I did, I saw something shiny. I looked and there was my thirteenth coin. Good luck. For me it was very symbolic.Ted was still recovering—he had been in bed sick for three months and then gotten married. He was still weak and convalescing. When we got to the apartment in Barranquilla, we had a maid—I didn't know how to cook. She was a marvelous cook. I learned how to make milkshakes and Ted loved ice cream so I would put in an egg and ice cream and milk and strawberries or raspberries. That would be to build him up little by little. That was our first place and it was a sweet little place. We met another newly married couple and we would spend time together. Ted would go play golf 11 and I would go swimming. Then he said, "I want you to learn how to play golf." I thought, "Well, alright." He's been a great influence on my life. He was thirteen years older than me and he was like a boss telling me what to do. Anyway, I learned how to play golf and then we could play with other couples. One time I was behind a tree and he was taking his drive and it hit me right across my leg. Of course it swelled and it was purple and green and yellow. He was really upset. We immediately went home and put ice on it—this was a Sunday. And on Monday we immediately went to the doctor. The doctor took a knife and cut it open and all this horrible stuff came out and Ted fainted. They fixed me and even to this day I have a scar and it still hurts. We moved to another apartment after that and we didn't have a maid. I had to teach myself how to cook. I got help from a lot of friends who were older. We would still play golf and one time we had friends visiting and after golf we went home to shower—this was when they were filming Green Fire with Stewart Grange, Grace Kelly and Paul Douglas. When we went to meet our friends at the bar, we had cokes and the waiter came to me and said, "Madam, the people in that corner would like you to join them for a drink." I looked over and there was Stewart Grange, Grace Kelly and Paul Douglas. So Ted and I and my friends went over to sit with them and soon enough they gave me their autograph, which I still have. She was beautiful. We used to have a group of American ladies at the hotel every Wednesday from 9:00 to 12:00 to fold bandages for the hospital. So when I went to the beauty parlor, she was sitting next to me and she remembered me. I said, "How would you like to join us and fold bandages with 12 American ladies?" She said, "Oh, I'd love to." And she came a couple of times. That was how I met Grace Kelly. It took us three years to have a child and they did tests on both of us and couldn't find anything wrong. Finally, they were going to blow my tubes but my friend said, "That's a terrible thing, Hazel." And I was petrified. But before that, a miracle happened and I got pregnant before they were going to do that. We had a welcoming party in Bogota. We flew in with our friends and it was a very nice party. IT was like a housewarming party. We had made all of these friends in Barranquilla and they invited us to Bogota. John Reed, who was a friend from Barranquilla and he had been transferred to be a manager of Sears in Bogota and he was the one who invited us. John told Ted, "I know you don't drink, but I want you to have some rum and coke and chug it all." So we went and he chugged the rum and coke and about five minutes later he started dancing and going wild and there was a table with glasses and he sat right on top of it. I thought, "Oh no! He's going to be all cut up." I don't know how, but he didn't have a cut; maybe because he was wearing heavy pants. But he was having a ball. About ten minutes later, he began to really feel awful. He was so sick. John Reed carried him outside and he was barfing everywhere and it was cold. It was terrible. Ted: The alcohol could have done me in at that altitude if they hadn't made me walk around. 13 HB: That trip was a blessing because the following week I was supposed to have the test for the blowing of my tubes, but I got pregnant so I didn't have to have the test. Anyways, we had a lot of fun and met a lot of nice people. ROH: Were you still working after you got married? HB: He was, but I wasn't. I was at home learning to cook and washing by hand—I had never washed anything in my life and we didn't have a washing machine. So I had the old seventy-eight records and I loved music. When I was a child, my parents took me to concerts and the theater and ballet and to opera. In our third house, we took over the rent from our friends, the Reeds, and we had a dog named Flash. We had a friend of Ted's from the States stay with us and I asked him what he would like to have. He said, "I would like whiskey on the rocks." So I went in the kitchen and I said, "Okay, what is whiskey on the rocks?" I figured rocks had to be the ice, but I got a big glass, not a small one like your supposed to use. I put in the ice and I put a jigger of whiskey and the glass wasn't full so I put in another jigger of whiskey so that it looked nice. We had dinner and everything was nice. Then at the end, he said, "Hazel, thank you so much for that lovely dinner, but next time, when someone asks for a whiskey on the rocks, you give them a small glass with three or four cubes of ice and only one jigger of whiskey, not two." So then I got a book on how to mix drinks. We did a lot of charity work. That was our mission, no matter what country we were in, we were always doing charity work for the hospitals, for the orphanages, and everything. ROH: Where do you think the desire to do that came from? 14 HB: I think that came from my mother. She was very giving. She had done a lot of social work out of the goodness of her heart. I think I inherited that from her. From Barranquilla we moved to Cali and I was expecting my second child. ROH: How far is it between those two cities? HB: You had to fly. Red It was three or four hundred miles. HB: When my in-laws came to Barranquilla for the first time, that was their first trip outside of the United States and they came to see their first granddaughter. We were living in a huge house because we were staying in Ted's boss's house while they were on vacation. I had learned how to make cakes and everything and the party was going on that night. I had gone to the market and there was a tiny tree for about twenty-five dollars and that was a lot of money. So I went home and I called a gardener and I said this is what we're going to do: I saw in the back room, a lamp pole and I told the gardener he was going to cut branches from a big tree and we were going to tie the branches to the stick and try to make a Christmas tree. He looked at me as if I had two heads. I said, "It's going to work. It's got to work." Sure enough, we tied the branches and it was a beautiful tree. We decorated it and put lights on it and put it in the family room where there was a lot of space. We borrowed tables and tablecloths and little lanterns. I cooked all day and when we went to the airport to get my mother and father in law, we told them we were going to have the party and there would be alcohol. We told them that when the waiter asked them what they wanted to drink, they should ask for ginger ale. I told them that people here were very happy and liked 15 to dance. She said, "What a beautiful Christmas tree!" and I told them what it was and they couldn't believe that it was homemade. ROH: What did your in-laws think of the party? HB: They thought it was just great. Lawrence loved to dance and he had the most beautiful voice. He always sang, "Some Enchanted Evening," and it was just beautiful. He danced with all the women and the men went to his mother and danced with her. It was lovely. Ted Tell them about entertaining the baseball team. His name was Brooks Robinson and he was an all-time pick in the American league as one of the greatest players of all time. HB: But who was the trainer? Ted Don Hefner, he played for the Yankees. He was the manager and close friend of mine. They played ball in Colombia in the winter. HB: It was spring training. We were in the second house that we took over from the Reeds and I felt sorry for those boys so I cooked a very nice Thanksgiving dinner and we played games afterwards. We played Scrabble until three or four in the morning. We would go to all the baseball games and we had a box seat. One night we were at one of the games and I tried to get up and a friend behind me said, "Hazel, put your shawl up." I was staining because I was pregnant with my second child. We went right home and the doctor came and he gave me vitamin B and said, " you're going to stay in bed for the next week." I was really upset because I didn't want to lose the baby. I stayed in bed and everything was okay. I had a nice baby girl. 16 Ted You have to get back to Barranquilla when the stove exploded. HB: I don't think that's funny. I had lobster prepared and I had one strapless bra because I used to wear a halter dress and it was kind of dirty so I washed it so I could wear it that evening. I was hurrying and I said, "Ted, you have to help me. I've washed it and dried it in towels, but you have to open the door in the oven and hold it there to dry." Well, it was the worst thing we could have done. TB: I kept opening the oven to see how it was doing—like it was roasting—and it blew all the lights out in the house. HB: I had asked him to open the oven and just hold it there but he kept going in and out of the oven and that's what did it. So they arrived and it was dark and I had candles on the table. Well, John was the manager of Sears so he went to the store and opened it and got the fuse and came back and changed the fuse. We still kept the lights down because the candles were beautiful. Anyway, so we're now in Cali. It was a wonderful place. When you come into a new place, the bank welcomes you and had a big party and you got to meet people and be reacquainted with people. TB: Tell them about our party when we dressed up as Jayne Mansfield. HB: I decided, "We always have beautiful fashion shows for the women, let's do something different and have the men do a fashion show with women's clothes." It was a hit. It was so funny. Here comes John Heath with a beautiful little hat and beautiful everything—we had picked out everything—but he had his own shoes and socks and garters up to here. When he came out, the people just roared—it was hilarious. Ted was part of the ceremony, so I fixed him up like Jayne 17 Mansfield. I made two balloons and a bra to hold them and he was wearing a skirt of mine—that's how skinny he was. Anyway, he had a skirt of mine, my moccasins, my baby socks, and I bought a white mop to be the hair. And I gave him a black sweater to show his big boobs. So he got up there and the master of ceremonies was a friend and knew what was going on, so he went up there with a big pin and—boom—he popped one of his boobs and all the water spilled and Ted got soaked. Then we had a bride and groom and the bride was pregnant. She was a very tall man and we made him a wedding dress and the groom was a little short guy. All those things would bring money for charity. Like for grafting machines for all those children who would get burned. ROH: Why would they get burned? HB: Because they lived in these little huts with a metal cylinder over the fire and it was dirt floor but it was clean—they would sweep it every day. The families were maybe three children and a mother and a father. The mother and father both had to work and the mother would leave a big pot of soup—that was their maintenance, they would put potatoes and corn and vegetables in the soup— then they would tell the oldest child to stir it. The child would be maybe eight years old and they were old stoves and many times the hot soup would spill on the child and he would be taken to the hospital. It was such a sad thing. I worked at the hospital as a volunteer and at the orphanage and I enjoyed every minute. I would take books and magazines and I would read to them. Going into the ward where they were burned was so sad to see. It smelled, too. 18 At Christmas time we would make pajamas for the boys and pajamas for the girls and we would have a comb, a doll, and a car for the boys, and candy and soap that would be the gifts for the children. We wrapped each one individually. Everyone would bring some of the gifts. Then my second daughter was born. Kimmy is fifty-two and she lives here with us. With her first husband she had a boy and a girl. She's in the military and she lost her baby. We just found out that it was the doctor's fault because they never did an ultrasound and when she was seven months pregnant she had a car accident but when the doctor examined her head, she was fine. But they didn't check the baby. What happened was the baby was not getting enough blood because Tara had a blood clot. After the accident, Tara had labor pains and they would give her injections so the baby wouldn't be born, but they didn't know what was going on inside. The baby was not getting enough oxygen or blood. TB: Tell about the beauty pageant coffee queen. HB: I modeled a lot for the American women. IT was always at the country club and there were pictures and all of that. I had children, but I was still very small. I ran for the title of Beauty Coffee Queen in Cali. I had a lot of friends and they voted for me. I think that's how I became the queen. All of the votes cost a dollar so it was a fundraiser. So I was crowned the coffee queen of Colombia, but I never drank coffee because I didn't like it. In my home, the maids had coffee and my mother probably had coffee. Our hot chocolate was real chocolate—very different 19 from what you get here—but we had always had tea at 4:00 in the afternoon with tea cakes and sandwiches. So I loved tea. ROH: Tell me a little more about the coffee queen pageant. What was it a fundraiser for? HB: For the hospital. ROH: Where was the contest held? HB: It was at a club called the Club Colombia because they had a big runway. That was where we would model. I was representing the American women of Cali and I ran with four or five other lovely girls. What got me to win was because I had so many friends who paid the money. That brought a lot of money. That was what we did for the hospital and the orphanage and the children's burn ward. When we were transferred to Medellin—I'll have to show you a map. Bogota is a big metropolitan city, not like what people think it is. The people there dress very well and are always proud of how they look. ROH: Your father being from England, was your family all from Colombia originally? HB: They came from Corsica, France. They were probably my great-grandparents and they came to Medellin, which is a very nice city. ROH: Do you know what brought them to Colombia from France? HB: No, but I know they were well-to-do and they lived in a nice home. My mother was raised much like I was. She was a very closed person. I never found out that I had a German dad. I looked at my birth certificate and it said my name, but my last name was Kanold and then it dated his mother and father. I asked my mother and she said, "Don't ask me." There was not a picture or anything. It was 20 like he never existed. [Her maiden name was Betancourt Mejia and her birth father was Colombian – Edward Pearce Roskruge was her second husband.] But I have German silverware and beautiful tablecloths that she had. That is all I have of him. I asked my aunt about him and she told me he was handsome with olive skin and dirty blonde hair. I think, "Why did I not get his green eyes?" I've always wanted green eyes. He had a ranch on the outskirts of Bogota that was called Potosi. He used to go there on weekends. My mother had her own capital—she had her own money. She never explained; she just said, "You don't need to know this." So what I think is that when he left for Germany, she must have sold the ranch and the cattle and the horses. I think she used that because she was always doing business—she would loan money and people would pay her back. She was a business woman. Anyways, so we arrived in Medellin, Colombia. We had one of our daughters there and she was a surprise. She was named Sarah Patricia because when I was pregnant I had the measles and the word for measles en español es 'saranpion.' So they were at the breakfast table one morning, talking about what we were going to name our new daughter and Kimmy, my third daughter, said, "Why not Sarah for 'saranpion,' my mother's second name—Patricia, and then Boyle?" So that's how she got named. This is another miracle in my life. I was tending my three daughters with the measles and we had a wonderful maid who had a daughter—we educated her daughter. But the fever came and I called my mom and told her. She said, 21 "Hazel, you should never have done that," because whenever there was ever measles or whooping cough in school, the children would bring it home and they would keep me home so that I would not get anything. So I got a very high fever and Ted cannot handle anything that goes wrong—he gets mad, instead of understanding. So I got up that morning, it was about 4:00, and I knew there was trouble. He got up and went to work and I didn't say anything to him. Then my maid came and gave me a hug and finally at 8:00 I called my doctor. He called the pharmacist and the pharmacist came and gave me two shots and said, "Don't get up." That afternoon my friend Yolanda was giving me a baby shower because I was only seven months. The doctor kept calling to ask what was happening, I said, "Well, everything seems to be okay so far." I called my friend Teresita and I said, "Promise me that you're not going to tell Walter what I'm going to tell you because Walter's going to call Ted and all hell will break loose." So at 11:00 I told Teresita and asked her to call Yolanda. "Tell her I thank her from the bottom of my heart but I'm not going to be able to go to the baby shower." Probably about 3:30 in the afternoon she must have called Walter. It was selfish of me to keep it to myself and to expect her to keep it to herself. Of course, Walter called Ted and of course Ted comes like a bull: "Why didn't you tell me!" I said, "That's why." We went to the hospital at about 4:30 and she was born at 6:00 p.m. She was three pounds. It was a beautiful Catholic hospital and they took such good care of me but I never saw Sarah. The priest came on Monday to baptize her. They had to give her plasma because she went down to two and a half pounds, but she was in the incubator and I couldn't see her because I was covered with 22 measles. After my friends heard that Sarah had been born, an Episcopalian friend came over to give me a blessing. What a wonderful thing to do. That was Friday night. On Saturday there were flowers and friends and packages from the baby shower. They said, "Oh Hazel, she's beautiful!" Sunday they went to mass. Then at about 3:00 in the afternoon there was no one in the room and Mother Superior came. She said, "I know what you're thinking." She knew. I thought that the baby was dead and they didn't want to tell me. All my friends kept telling me the baby was so beautiful, but Mother Superior said, "I know what you're thinking so you're going to make me a promise—I'm going to bring a wheelchair and you're going to sit in it and you're going to look up over the window so you can see her." It was such a big weight off my shoulders to know that she was okay. But going home without a baby was hard. She was in the incubator for three weeks. The obstetrician and pediatrician would come four times a day to check on her. In Cali, I was one of four hundred volunteer nurses at the hospital. They had picked me and one other woman for special training to learn how to take care of premature babies. I had done it all with other babies but when my baby was born, I couldn't touch her. It was like I drew a blank. I was so scared to touch her. So we took a nurse whose name was Rosario and for a month she lived with us and took care of the baby. We had a crib and bassinet. She was so tiny. She had her little eyebrows and her little nails. Her legs were about two fingers wide. When she was six pounds, I took over taking care of her. I loved taking care of 23 my kids. That was my mission in life: take care of my kids and my husband. Now, what else should I tell? TB: The trip from Bogota to Medellin. HB: Oh yes. At that time you had to buy foreign cars and we had just a little car and when we went to Medellin we needed something better because we had three children then. Someone from the American embassy was selling a 1964 Chevy Impala, which was the year that Sarah was born. Ted flew to Bogota and bought the car. At that time it was dangerous and he drove the car from Bogota to Medellin in the middle of the night while there were gorillas everywhere and he could have been assassinated and nobody would have known. He arrived at our house at about 4:00 in the morning with this enormous car—remember how big those were? It was huge. TB: I almost got assassinated driving with the golf pro when we ran into that bicycle guy. HB: Oh yes, it's funny but I'm very observant and I had gone to visit my mother and when I came back, he came to get me at the airport and the first thing I said was, "What happened?" he said, "What do you mean?" I said, "The car is a different color." They had tried very hard to imitate it but I noticed. So he told me the story. He had a golf pro in the car and Ted had gone to take him downtown. TB: He told me, "I want to get out here." A bicyclist coming inside the curb hit the door and was thrown to the ground. He started running around complaining, "This guy hit me." A crowd started gathering, then he started shaking the car up and down and saying that I was a foreigner. A policeman came, thank God, and 24 he dispersed the crowd. He said, "I'm going to drive the car down to the station." He had never driven a car, I swear. He bumped the car all the way down to the station. HB: They realized that he had the golf pro in the car and the golf pro was from Medellin so he told them that it was not Ted's fault, it was actually his own fault for not looking when he opened the door. TB: Wait, you've got to put in that in Medellin I was forty-two years old and still playing baseball in the Coca Cola team of the Americas on Sunday afternoon with ten thousand people. HB: They built the stadium with the money we paid to get in—it was like a dollar to get in. it was famous team. That was a good story. ROH: How many years were you in Medellin? HB: We were in Cali three years, Medellin probably about three years. We left in 1964. We had a beautiful German Shepard named Hans. We were going to Medellin and the dog got out—he was going by plane—but they finally got him in the crate and on the plane. In Medellin we had a very nice home that had a fence and a cow guard at the entrance. It was all wired and there was a huge yard. So the dog arrived and I don't know why he became so vicious. We had a doctor living behind us and he had to go along a dirt road behind our fence in order to get to the main street. I don't know if they teased the dog but he would be out there barking all the time. My friends would call me before they would come to visit so that Hans would be locked in the house so that they could come in. 25 We would go on furlough to the States for a month and Ted would let one of the employees of Citibank—friends of ours with their son—stay in the house. Our maid was in charge of the house and I said, "All I want is that you are very careful with Hans, just make sure that if people come over, he is locked in the house." So the wife of the man who was going to stay in the house came to visit and one of the kids let the dog out. When Hans came out, he attacked the man. He was a big tall man and the man was going to kill the dog because it was attacking him but he didn't. He ended up with stitches all over both his arms. We were still friends, thank goodness. It was an accident. We were going to El Salvador and I had a little sewing kit. I thought it was a good hiding place for my thirteen gold coins and my cross and a jeweled bracelet that Ted had given me. Then I had a medal from one of the virgins. I put those in a box inside my sewing kit and put all the sewing things on top. Then I locked it and put it on top of all the things that still needed to be taken. We arrived in El Salvador; we were escorted to the airport by our friends from Medellin. Our maid went with us and we wished we could have taken her with us but she would have needed a passport. TB: You have to tell about President Johnson. You're not going to get there. We've only got so much time. HB: Alright, so we got to El Salvador and unpacked. I opened my sewing kit and the box with my special jewelry wasn't there. I thought, "Who would have even thought to look there?" I'm afraid that maybe the maid was the only one who knew. 26 We did more charity work in El Salvador. I was very involved in the community and the American ambassador to Colombia was very generous. His wife became my friend and we would play bridge in the afternoons. IT was time for us to do something big and I said, "Okay, why don't we do a night in Las Vegas with black jack and different tables." We had three months to plan. We had costumes. Walter, who was married to my friend Teresita, made the boards with the numbers and everything. But I had to have government permission to do this because it was going to be in a private home. We invited the governor of Medellin and he never came but he gave us permission. The American ambassador emptied the whole house of the furniture to make space for the gambling tables and the music and the food. The girls were dressed n cowboy boots, red shirts, and cowboy hats. I was pregnant with Sarah but it didn't show much at that time. It was very successful. The next day we came back and thanked the ambassador and his wife. He was so generous. The next afternoon we counted the money and we had made a lot of money that night. We gave it to the hospital and they bought grafting machines for the burned children. ROH: This was in Medellin? HB: Yes. [Day Two of Hazel Boyle's Interview] ROH: Today is November 17, 2011. We are continuing the oral history of Hazel Boyle. HB: We arrived in El Salvador and we were met by Joe and Sue Borgatti who was the president of the Citibank in El Salvador. We had a lovely dinner and met some of the most influential families who ran the city. It was 1965. It took us three months 27 to find a home. It was a lovely home. I think I mentioned that when we arrived in El Salvador, my aunt's husband's brother was the ambassador to Colombia in El Salvador. We were given a wonderful welcoming by him and we started making friends right away. A few years later the president of the bank came to visit and they bought a plane especially for them to travel through Central America to visit the branches of the bank. One night we had been invited to visit one of the homes out in the country. I think I told you the story about how we drove with another couple and the wife was in the hammock and she fell. So that night was a huge well-to-do party and Eartha Kitt was the singer that night. Later on, Ted was very involved with the American Men's Society and I was involved in the American Women's Society and we were always doing something for the country and the schools. Then president Lyndon B. Johnson arrived in the country. Because we were so involved in the American Men's and Women's Society, we went to the airport to greet them. They brought china and silver for the evening. All the ambassadors and presidents of Central America—Panama, Costa Rica, Honduras, Guatemala were there. The president brought his family and we met the two young ladies. He was a very tall man and very nice. They first had a big cocktail party on the terrace of the hotel and then we went in to dinner. It was so neat to have the china and dishes from the White House. ROH: Do you know what the President was doing there? HB: I think he wanted to meet with all of the heads of Central America. They left the very next morning. Then we had three very wonderful years. I had a tea for Mrs. 28 Moore when she was there. This is the Moore's—the president of the bank. They had a suite but we wanted to make it into more of a home, so I brought some of my paintings and Sue brought some of her things. He didn't like a lot of flowers but in Latin American countries, that it is a must. Mr. Moore said, "I want these flowers out of here. I feel like I'm in a mortuary." So all the flowers went out. I had to arrange every evening for the hairdresser to come up and fix her hair and the hors d'ourves before they went out to dinner. We had a wonderful group of friends there. We had a lot of Cuban people there who were married to Americans or Europeans. Or there were Latins, like myself, married to an American. We had wonderful parties and there was always dancing after dinner. I enjoyed every minute of it. From El Salvador we went to New York because Ted was assigned to the head office. I went on the train with four daughters to Connecticut. We had friends from El Salvador whose brother was dean of admissions at Berkeley, California. She showed us a lot of houses but we didn't like any. We were about to get back on the train to New York when she said there was one more house we might try. We went in and I just loved the drive up, the house was absolutely beautiful. It was colonial with black shutters. We went in and I said I really liked the house but it was a little more than we could spend. I said to Nora, our friend who met us and showed us the houses, if it would be feasible for me to make an offer. Nora said I had nothing to lose so just make the offer. I did. We went back to New York with the luggage and the girls and rented a little place between Norwalk and Wilton. We put the girls in school and within a week's time we got a 29 call saying, "Mrs. Boyle, the house is yours." We lived there for a beautiful six years. The funny part of the story is that they thought that because I was from South America I was used to maids and worried about how I was going to handle the house. What I did was I had a party and invited all the wives from the block. That was our introduction, then I had a beautiful New Years Eve party with black ties and long dresses and I cooked all the food for that and we had a wonderful dinner. Our girls went to school in Wilton. Sharon graduated from Wilton High School and then she wanted to go to BYU but she had already been accept to the University of Arizona but then she met a Mormon boy and that was what got us going there. So she went to BYU and she would call every night because she was missing us. This was the first time she had been on her own until she went on a mission. She went on a mission in Chile and she served for two years. Usually its eighteen months but she got pneumonia and they put her in a sanatorium. We were in Pakistan at the time. When we picked her up at the airport, I cried because it was like a shadow of the girl that I had sent on a mission. ROH: How did she get sick? HB: In Chile they have a lot of rain. Even though she had boots and heavy things, apparently the dampness got to her. We had a lovely time in El Salvador and met wonderful people. We went from El Salvador to New York and we bought the house. The girls went to school. On Halloween night in 1973, Ted came home while I was dishing candy and he 30 said, "How would you like to go Monrovia, Liberia in West Africa?" It was fine with me—it was part of my life and my job as his wife, but after reading the post report, I thought, "Oh! What am I getting into?" Poisonous snakes, frogs in the swimming pool, things that we wouldn't be able to get. Monrovia, Liberia was established by slaves that left the United States and established their own government. It was kind of neat, but it was different. We met President and Mrs. Tolbert. She took a kind of shine to me. She would always be so kind to me. They had a big affair every year where they had different booths from different countries and she asked me to represent America. I got a little committee and said, "How about something in fall?" We put a great big sheet like a sky and then we put leaves all around. We were also very involved with the American school. I taught Spanish there. I used to entertain people who would come from the bank with a great big sit down dinner at our home. Then we spent time at a beach house that I refurbished. The kids loved Saturday and Sunday at the beach. Then it was time for us to go to Pakistan. We arrived in Beirut, Lebanon in 1977 to 1979. Then we were transferred to Karachi, Pakistan and we were there from 1980 to 1983. There was a civil war going on. We have a book that shows the hatred that these people had for us as Americans at that time. A lot of Americans were evacuated. We arrived at the Bristol Hotel and Sarah and I were the only women there. We stayed in the hotel for three months until they fixed the bullet holes in the windows. We had to go through a lot of checkpoints to take my daughter to the American school and Ted to the bank. It didn't bother me when the driver took us. I've always minded my 31 P's and Q's when I'm driving, but we would leave the house at 6:00 at night and go through town and it was like a ghost town. I would say one prayer every night when I was driving and my daughter was with me. I would say, "Heavenly Father, please, I don't know if I would be capable running a person down if I met a guard with a bayonet." Every night for two years I was thinking: Would I be able to do that? I don't think I would have, but it never happened. IT was a miracle in my life. That's when I joined the church—while we were in Beirut, Lebanon. I looked for the missionaries but there were only the Parkers. ROH: Who were the Parkers? HB: They were friends and they were very involved in the University of Lebanon. Both of them worked there. She invited us to go to church and that's when Sarah and I were baptized—in a swimming pool at 6:00 in the morning. Now let me tell you the story about the Christmas tree. There was a dividing line between West Beirut and East Beirut. Our side had Catholics, Muslims, Jews, some Drews Mormons, and other religions as well. When you crossed the green line to the east, which was supposedly the Christian side. There was always a little friction there. Any time there was a cocktail party, I had to give them a list of who was coming. They would wait and they always had guns and they could see all the cars coming and when they saw a car coming they would always go down and make sure they knew what every car was doing there. It was always policed. At one time, there was a great uprising with the PLO. We used to play golf not to far from the golf club and we would pass the building that they were building for the American embassy and they stopped 32 construction, they were not doing anything there. Our friend used to be involved in agronomy and he went to Utah State and he was teaching at that time. I think he was in the military, as well. His name was Kenneth Bach and he was a colonel. He was sent to Monrovia, Liberia, and that was where we met them and that was where they took me to the non-denominational church and all these things started to go in my mind and I thought, "Hm." So they wanted to come and visit us in Beirut. They were going to Greece and I said, "When you get to Greece, if you don't hear anything bad about Beirut, please come and we'll take care of you." They didn't hear anything but unfortunately there was an uprising on the Saturday that they arrived. I always went to the market on Saturdays because the girls were busy doing stuff and we had a little girl as a maid that I sent to English school so that we could communicate—her name was Saba. They were so excited when I arrived with my beautiful flowers and they had everything but I had to go to all these different places to get things so it took me a good two or three hours. By the time I got home, they could hardly wait and they said, "Oh mom, guess who's here?" So Ken and his wife Eleanor and Sharon their daughter who was about fifteen at the time. I asked what hotel they were at and they told me. I said, "Oh, no!" So I stripped our bed because we had three bedrooms and we could give them the bedroom and the bathroom and we could move down to the other rooms. We went to get them from the hotel and we had a lovely lunch and then we headed out on the Christian side. When we got to Beirut, we had to pick out our car and it was a Datsun station wagon and I love yellow because it's such a pretty color. So we went over to the Christian side so 33 we could see the city there. There wasn't much traffic but we didn't hear any shots or anything. When it was time to come back we crossed and there was no problem. We arrived in our building and our neighbor was a Palestinian woman who was younger than us but always worrying like she was our mother. She came out saying, "Where have you been? They are fighting in Ashrafieh!" That was the cross line, but we didn't hear any shots. I guess we should have listened to her, but we didn't. Sunday morning we to the Parkers to go to church and there were Armenians and an American nurse and two or three other people and their families. Sunday we came back and had a lovely lunch—I had told Saba to pack a picnic lunch because I wanted to take it and show our guests Faraya, which was the skiing resort in Beirut. When we arrived there, there were all these Bedouin tents and goats and people. Francesca had warned us, "There's an uprising so don't go out, stay inside." We found a little place and we had our picnic and on the way back we couldn't cross. At the check point, there was the Christian militia in black with their guns and everything. In all of this traffic, we were in a bright yellow station wagon—how conspicuous could we be! So we get to the check point and he yells at us, "Go! Go! We're inshallah, go!" So we decided to go down by the port and not fifty yards from us—Boom! A mortar blew up and we thought we were dead. Ted did a wheelie and we went back to the east side. We went to John Berenson's house, who was in charge of the Citibank in the East. We arrived and Eleanor needed to use the facilities. I said okay 34 because he was not there; he had probably gone to see a movie because all of the nice things were on our side. So we had to climb down on kind of an iron ladder because I knew there would be facilities down there by the pool. When we went back up, we sat and waited for John to arrive. When he did, he said, "Oh! I know why you're here because they wouldn't let me cross either." We asked him if we could spend the night. That night we washed our clothes and the next morning John sent the bank driver to take us to the crossing but there was no way we could cross. We went to buy swimming suits for the girls because we did not want them to get worried, then Eleanor and I prepared a lovely lunch. We sat on the terrace that night and he used a video camera to look at all the tracers. By the port, they had put a fire on one of those oil tanks. Downtown was black, no electricity. You could see the tracers. I had to call Kimmy because Linda had already gone to the university but Kimmy stayed behind a few days. I called her and I had to be careful but I said, "We are at John Berenson's house and we may not be able to get through because it's kind of raining here." It was raining bullets, but she knew. I said, "Please don't leave the building. If you need anything, go to Francesca." That was the second night. The third night we tried again. Ted said, "Let me call my friend." That was the same guy who brought us the Christmas tree all the way from the east side to the west side at about 11:30 hoping that they wouldn't stop him because he was carrying a Christian Christmas tree. His name was Ramon Maitar and we all met and he said, "My friend it's imperative that we get our friends out, but we can't cross." He said, "Okay, I'm going to call my brother who 35 was in the Christian militia." His brother had been wounded just a few weeks before. And he called his brother and said, "Stop everything, there's going to be two cars—my car and the yellow station wagon." We got everything in the car and started—it was the most eerie feeling. It was dead silent. There wasn't a soul or a dog or a cat on the streets. We would look up and think, "Oh my gosh, the bullets are going to start coming." He took us all the way around the back way and at about half a mile he stopped the car and said, "This is as far as I can go." We had no more problems. We got through the checkpoints and to the apartment and everything was fine. We went to the American Express immediately to check their passports so that we could get them out of Beirut. They opened the suitcases and everything and when that plane finally took off we were so relieved. It was a great responsibility for us. That night, the embassy called us because my girls had been friends with the marines at the American Embassy. A marine called my husband and said, "Mr. Boyle, we need for you to get your family out of here immediately." That night we were pulling pictures out of the albums, I didn't take any clothes, just my silver which was my heirlooms and then I had to say goodbye to my husband. We got to Los Angeles and I had to declare everything. They looked at my passport and saw "Beirut, Lebanon" and said, "Go right ahead." Off we went and we arrived in California and I was concerned about Ted. He would always leave the apartment building at night and walk to the Kentucky Fried Chicken and you never know if you might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 36 When Ted called he would say, "It's raining, you can't come yet, it's too wet." That was our communication. Then he arrived and we were so happy to have him for about a week before he had to go back. In 1976, the Russian airline "Aerofloat" had a tour to go visit Moscow, Leningrad, and Kiev. It was two weeks, all hotels and transport paid for and it was $500 a piece. We signed up and took the aero float and landed in Armenia. We knew that we were going to the symphony and the ballet and the circus, so I took my good clothing and my jewelry and I had to declare everything. It was an interesting trip and we enjoyed everything. A lawyer was our guide in Moscow and there was a teacher as our guide in Leningrad. Kiev they refurbished because it was completely destroyed in WWII. There were 125 people signed for the trip but when the Israelis came we had to go down to the basement because there couldn't be any lights. We thought they were going to cancel the trip but seven of us went. We had a whole bus to ourselves. The lawyer who was our guide took us to an ice cream parlor and we walked in and there were all these Russians and there was silence. Oh, it was so awful. They knew we were foreign and it was so awful. They kept looking at us. We wanted to give the guide a little gift and she said, "I love Agatha Christie novels and when you send it, put law books.'" So then we went to Leningrad and the Hermitage Museum was incredible. While we were in Moscow, they had that beautiful church in the red square and we saw Lenin's tomb. There were a lot of Mongolian soldiers standing there and I approached one and said, "Do you speak English?" They said, "Yes, we do." I said, "Would you mind if I took your 37 picture." So they posed for me. Then Ted and I ventured out by ourselves and we wanted to see the basilica. We were in line and a Russian soldier was behind us and said, "Are you visitors?" I said, "Yes, we're here to visit your beautiful country." He said, "Would you mind if I directed you inside the basilica and told you some of the history?" I don't know if he thought we were spies, but he took us all around the whole thing and told us all the history. Then it was time to go on the train to Kiev. That was a little different because they only had one bathroom in each compartment and then we slept in bunk beds. So we are in our pajamas and this man came into out compartment and we didn't know what he was saying but he was pointing to the top bunk so we thought that was where he was going to sleep so we said, "Yes." Well, he proceeded to undress himself and got up there and went to sleep. My daughter was a little shy about that. We arrived in Kiev and the palace was refurbished and it was absolutely gorgeous. It was magnificent. I took pictures but we weren't supposed to. Then we had a young man as a guide and we asked what he would like for us to give him. He said, "I want your husband's jeans." He was tall and skinny like my husband. HE said, "Please don't send me a thank you card or anything, but tomorrow you sit in the back of the bus and roll up those jeans and just put it in my little suitcase." Then no one would know anything about it. He said, "I would have to pay $250 for a pair of jeans in the black market." We left and went back to Moscow and went to the catacombs. It was deep and dark and full of rats. It wasn't anything like the country jails that we pay for so 38 that they can get educated, you know. Anyways, we got to the airport and Sarah had to empty her pockets of her change and leave it. Then I had to go to a little room and take out all my jewelry so they could compare everything that I had declared in Armenia with what I was taking with me. They thought I'd brought it into the country to sell it. Then we boarded the plane and we were so happy to get back to Beirut. Remember Russia was still communist at that time. We were evacuated one time from Beirut and one time from Pakistan. We were having a big party at our home in Karachi and we had invited all of the teachers from the American school. They were our friends. In Pakistan, even before a child was born, its name was on a list to get into the American school. That night, some of the teachers wouldn't come because they had ordered us to be careful because they had raided the American embassy in Islamabad. We left the next night. Sarah and I left but Ted stayed behind again. We had house boys and everything, but still we were worried. It was my daughter's fourteenth birthday and she was so sad. The plane was full of Americans going to Washington D.C. and she said, "I may not see them again." I said, "Sarah, how many girls get to go on an Air France flight on their birthday?" She started laughing. When we got off the plane, she said goodbye to all her friends. We went to our hotel for one night, as the bank had an apartment for us and we were there for four months. Ted would come home every Friday and leave every Sunday. At Christmas time, that was what we did while we were there in Athens, Greece. ROH: When were you in Athens? 39 HB: I think it would have been 1978, but we spent Christmas and New Years there, so it was 1978 to 1979. ROH: What was Christmas like in Athens? HB: We had a little tiny Christmas tree just for us. People were very kind. The Greek people were very welcoming. Then, after Pakistan, we went to Saudi Arabia. We had a beautiful cat that we had adopted in Pakistan and our house was the main house for all the parties because it was a humungous house. You could put 400 people in that house and you wouldn't even know that they were there. There was a huge garden and a living room and another living and then we had two or three terraces upstairs. So whenever the American women had a party, it was at our house. Of course, we had the help and the people would come and string the lights and set up music and speakers. It was a great house for entertaining. I was president of the American Women's group in Pakistan. This charity had fairs for the school. We made the tennis courts and the books and whatever the school needed. ROH: When were you in Pakistan? HB: We were there from the end of 1979 to 1982. From 1982 to 1985, we were in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I had my own driver because we weren't allowed to drive. In Saudi Arabia women are nothing. We are there for one purpose only. I met American women married to Saudis that they had met in college and they were so timid. They would come into the fish market or the meat market and I would try to talk to them and they wouldn't. But we found out that they were the favorite wives because they were blond or beautiful, but they always had to have their 40 abayah with her. We learned that in the palaces, the men ate first and whatever was leftover, the women would eat while the men went to smoke. They had the most wonderful shops there—like Christian Dior and Oscar de la Renta. But at the same time, the taste was horrendous. They liked all this glittery stuff that you would see in the windows. The brand new airport was built. It was incredible, but the women were petrified of the escalators in the mall and in the airport because they wore those long skirts and abayah and veil and they preferred to use the stairs. We had an incident in Saudi because my husband got sick and we went to the urologist and the urologist tried to get him in the American hospital because he was not a resident—but they really liked my husband because he was Mormon and they knew he didn't drink and all of that. Whatever we did was illegal—I went to aerobics and that was illegal and my friends made wine and beer out of apple juice in their bathtubs. That was how we entertained. Ted and I never drank it, but we served it at our house. They would bring cases or red wine, white wine, and beer. Citibank bank had 23 compounds in Riyadh and everything we did— tennis and parties and thanksgiving and golf—we did it at the compounds, but we had to be careful because we had our western dress at night but we had the abayah that we wore happily and we did it justice. But the French girls didn't, they would go out with very tight jeans and then they would wrap their shirts up in a knot. When they went to the souk, the priest would tap them on the ankle because they had high heels and because the jeans were so tight they didn't 41 cover their ankles. So they would be sent to jail. They ate bread and water because they don't give you any food in those jails. I thought, "Not a bad idea!" Another thing that happened in Riyadh was because they encouraged us to go to the chopping block every Friday because Friday is their Sunday. ROH: What is the chopping block? HB: The chopping block is this big plaza. If there was a person who had fornicated or raped anybody or would do something really bad, they would be beheaded in the plaza every Friday. They encouraged foreigners to go. ROH: Why? HB: I guess to warn you not to do something bad. We were guests in their country and we were very careful. So anyway, the urologist gave him a note to go to the hospital but the hospital wouldn't allow him to go in, so he had to go to the president of the bank there and get permission to leave the kingdom for medical reasons. My husband is a little bit of a stubborn man, like most men. He went to the airport but he didn't have all the signatures he needed, but he wouldn't go in the wheelchair and I said, "Ted, if you had just gone in the wheelchair, you would have been let on that plane without a problem." Well, while we were traveling, Ted's catheter got clogged and it must have been very painful. When we arrived in New York, I said, "Ted, lets go right to the medical center. They'll take care of it." He said, "No, no, no, I'm fine." So we missed the plane to Salt Lake so we flew to Los Angeles and by the time we arrived in Salt Lake, Ted's face was white. His brother met us there and took him to the hospital and five minutes later he was fine. Because we were not Arabs, they would not allow us in the hospital. 42 But everything was taken care of at McKay Dee Hospital. Our daughter Kimmy lived in Salt Lake City at the time and we saw her while Ted was convalescing. So that was our time in Saudi Arabia. We had a Main Coon cat. He was beautiful and so sweet. We loved him. This is in Pakistan, but there were fifteen ladies together for tea and all the sudden this gorgeous can came and sat in my lap and it was love at first sight. She said to me, "Hazel, you must have something special because Foxy never goes to anyone!" The cat's name was Foxy. I said, "If you ever need someone to babysit, let me know." That was Christmas time. On February 14, she called. She said, "Hazel, how would you like to have Foxy?" I said of course, how long are you going to be gone?" She said, "We're being transferred to Italy and we can't take the cat because we're expecting a second child and Foxy hasn't been very good with our first. Would you like to have him?" I said, "Of course!" I didn't ask Ted because he would have said no. That day we took him and we put him in the blue room. Coming from a small house, we thought he would be petrified of the big house. So we went to pick up Ted from the office and I said, "Happy Valentines Day!" And Ted said, "Alright, what do you have up your sleeve?" We got home and he said, "I don't want to have anything to do with that animal." Three days later, he still did not want that cat. I thought, "Okay, Foxy and I are leaving." Ted came and said, "Okay, I guess Foxy can stay." That cat died on its twenty-second birthday. We brought him to Wilton and it was so funny in the snow because he'd never been in snow. ROH: So which was your last post? 43 HB: Saudi was our last. We flew Swiss Air because of Foxy. We arrived at Kennedy Airport and our neighbor's son worked for a limousine company and when we arrived this beautiful limousine was waiting. That was our homecoming. ROH: So you kept your home in Wilton the whole time you were abroad? HB: Yes, we did. In fact, when we were going to Monrovia, Ted said, "Sell the house." Linda was a junior in high school and I asked the principal if she could graduate as a junior because she was too young to leave but not old enough to go to college. I asked the school in Monrovia if she could do a year of post-graduation work there. They said, "Oh, sure." She was such an addition. She had been on the tennis team and she had been a cheerleader. So she graduated a second time. She mentioned that we always decorated the graduating room but that night there was a strong storm and there were no lights. So the students each came in their gown with a candle to light the way. They needed a majestic chair because the president was going to be there. Well, I had this lovely Spanish chair in the dining room at home that was upholstered in red velvet. I said, "I have two chairs for them." So we had that. About an hour later, the lights came on and Linda was able to sing, The Way We Were. She started singing when we had come from over seas, the girls were in eight and ninth grade and her sister were in the high school. Sarah was supposed to go to kindergarten when we arrived, but they wouldn't accept her because she didn't speak any English. We had been talking to her in Spanish, so I had to keep her for another year and speak only English. She forgot her Spanish. She took classes in high school and in college, but when 44 some of us start talking Spanish, she gets so mad because she forgot all her Spanish. ROH: How did you come to be in St. George? HB: We were in Wilton, Connecticut until Ted retired from the bank. A friend of his, Frank Tribe, called him and said, "Ted, if you want to go to heaven and play golf, go to Rio Verde, Arizona." So we sold the house and I flew out ahead of time to Logan because my daughters were there. We went first to Scottsdale and rented a car and followed the directions they had given us. There was nothing there, just grass and desert and we thought, "Where are we going? Are we sure we have it right?" Finally we go to the curve and we turned and saw the sign for Rio Verde. We had rented a townhome. The people were so friendly. The realtor took us around and we saw a house that I really liked. We didn't buy the house then. It was reasonable in price and it was brand new. We had to live with our daughter and put things in storage for two months while we waited for the house. She was so gracious. Then we had an Air Force reunion in California. That was what made us realize, "Yes, this is what we want." We went back and the house had gone up in price. But we sweet-talked the realtor and he let us buy it for what he had quoted us before. We moved in and our neighbors came to visit us and brought us things and it was heaven. When our family came, we had to rent a house for them so there was enough room for everyone. ROH: So how long have you been here? HB: We've been here six years. We moved here in April 2005. ROH: Of all of those countries you lived in, was there one you enjoyed the most? 45 HB: I'm the type of person who can make friends easily. The bank was very good for us. When we were in Pakistan, I could go into the store and get everything I wanted, but the paper towels were so expensive and the toilet paper was like sandpaper. But all these things you learn from the people who were there before you. They had one shipment every year and all the people and the vice presidents would bring us bacon—because you don't see bacon in those countries—and cheese, too. We enjoyed the R and Rs. We went to Europe many times, we loved Switzerland, Austria I liked, Germany was okay, Italy was nice also. I had a very good friend from El Salvador whose husband worked for the Intercontinental Hotel and he was Swiss. She and I did everything together. We would go to the movies and when we got back, the chef would have cherries jubilee waiting for us. They spoiled us. I forgot to mention, when we were in Beirut, Lebanon, we subscribed to the Times magazine and we listened to the BBC from London. We opened the Time magazine up before we left for Russia and they had assassinated the president Tolbert and his wife from Monrovia, Liberia, West Africa. Then they got all the ministers that we knew—they had come to our home—and they were taken and assassinated on our beach. That was really awful. Then, in El Salvador, there were uprisings. Every single country that we have lived in has had uprisings. The only country that seemed to be okay was Greece and now they're in trouble. I know that we're here for a reason. I love my life here and I have such a good time. 46 ROH: Did you children pick up the languages wherever you went? HB: They were with us constantly. They got a tremendous education wherever they went. They were way ahead on all the examinations they did. Wherever the American school was in those countries, the American school was the best. ROH: Tell me about the girls that went to school in Utah. HB: Sharon went to BYU; Linda, Kimmy, and Sarah went to Utah State. Kimmy was married at twenty-two and didn't finish college. Linda and Sarah finished. We thought Sarah would go into public relations; when she went to Michigan, she was the assistant coach of the girl's tennis team. She loved that but then she hurt her back and had to go into a different field. ROH: Did you go back to Ogden to visit after you had been married? HB: Oh yes, always. Every time we went to the States we would go to New York to do the medical. Then we would fly to L.A. and Ted's brother would pick us up and take us to Long Beach to see our mother and father-in-law. We would always go to Ogden because that was the place where all of his friends were. When we moved to Wilton, they would come to visit us in the east. We loved to take them to see the sights. We always flew over the United States, so for three years we made a trip across the United States so the girls could learn some of the history and geography. The first trip was from the east coast to the west coast. We had a whole month to do it. We would drive four or five hundred miles a day, then the girls and I would go sight-seeing. We went through so many places. My favorite was Gettysburg. It was s historical. We went to the theater and we went to the 47 museum about the North and the South and the fighting. Kentucky was beautiful because I love horses. We went to Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon. We traveled a lot with the girls. We had a huge station wagon and we would have to put the dog and the cat in a kennel while we did this. While we were driving, Ted would play games like, "Whoever sees the first white horse gets a dollar," or, "Whoever sees the first buffalo gets a dollar." Once time he said, "I want you to count how many Volkswagen bugs you see on the trip." And they'd get a prize. They were spoiled. [Laughter] ROH: You had lots of parties, but what kind of hobbies did you have? HB: I did needlepoint and crochet. I knitted and embroidered. My hobby wherever we were was to take care of our home and make the best of whatever we had. I loved entertaining and we never went out to dinner like you do now. I always cooked. When I was a child, they put me in ballet and I played the piano, I went to the conservatory. These things were so helpful in my life. My parents would take me to see the ballet and symphony and concerts and operas. The worst was when they took me to lectures; they were so boring. ROH: What kind of music did you dance to when you had parties? HB: Glen Miller, and Big Band type music, and then, of course, the Latin music. I loved classical music and I would love to go to concerts, but Ted isn't fond of that type of music. He likes Glen Miller. The war music. ROH: What are your favorite flowers? 48 HB: My favorite flower is the rose. I love red and pink and yellow roses. I learned how to arrange flowers when I was in Central America. I took classes and those were fun. I have given demonstrations in cooking. When we moved to Arizona, we had to go about thirty-seven miles to get to church. ROH: What are you favorite kind of books? HB: I like happy things. I like mysteries and biographies. I like romantic books. I read church books and I love them. I have my own little library and that was so helpful when I was a teacher in church. I should also mention, when we were in Monrovia, Ted met Shirley Temple Black and Henry Kissinger. I think they were interested in the background of Liberia and the businesses and the education. We had a big colony there from all walks of life. We had maybe 1,500 foreigners, maybe. The compound was beautiful and when Ted left, I didn't sell the house. Nora offered to watch the house if I wanted to rent it and so for eleven years she rented to IBM people and Australian people and Canadian people. When we went back after eleven years, we did not have to do anything to fix it because Nora had taken care of it. Our first car when we had come from overseas was sold to us by a man whose son races cars. I think it was a Corbeau. In Colombia, when Kimmy was born, Ted said, "We're going to take pictures." I had Kimmy in my arms and I was going downstairs and I slipped. I landed on my tailbone and from then on I would have back pain every once in a while. But it was not until we were driving in Bryce Canyon in the 1970s during one of our trips from the east coast to the west 49 coast—there were very small roads and we went down by mule and my mule's name was Herman. After the mule ride—two hours down and two hours back—I went home and sat down and I could not get up. I had a ruptured disk. The next day I went for x-rays and they sent me to a specialist in Norwalk, Connecticut. Remember, this was in the '70s. They didn't know very much about back surgery. Ted asked them the odds and they said the surgery was about twenty-five percent successful. I said, "Oh, no, you're not cutting me open." So he said I had to come home and lie down for three months and they gave me cortisone and I wore a brace for nine months. He said, "You'll never be able to horseback ride or play tennis, but you can swim." My neighbors would come every day and talk to me and bring books and just be aware of how I was doing. I was so grateful. We had another friend, a teacher, whose wife had cancer. Towards the end, when it was so painful, she gave herself to the hospital in New York City so they could test things on her. At the funeral, I spoke to the priest and said, "These are my very good friends and they want to be buried in the Wilton cemetery, would it be okay to do a ceremony here in church?" He said, "Of course." I called all my neighbors and planned it all. Their youngest daughter used to come to our house all the time, she was like another daughter, and she still communicates with me. So he was the one who took us to the airport and we couldn't find Pancho, the cat. We found him under the car. When we got to the airport, the airline had a big crate for the golden retriever and a little one for the cat. I wasn't worried about the cat, but I was worried about the dog. They were very accommodating. They said I could stand at the window and see that he had enough water and the pills. 50 I had carried all these medications for him because we were going to Africa. When it was time, I stood by the window and saw the cage going into the luggage area. It was a night flight—we left at about eight at night—and we saw the aurora borealis. I have never seen such a beautiful thing in my life. It was incredible. We arrived the next morning and went to the compound where we would be living. Ted had been sleeping on a cot there with a wonderful cook and the house boy. He moved into the hotel with us, the cat and the dog were at the compound. The president there had a nice welcoming party for us and the music there is very similar to Latin music. That was so much fun! We met a lot of people that were from Scotland. They have a special day that they celebrate— ROH: Robbie Burns Days. They line sheep's stomach, like a sausage. HB: That was fun. We became very good friends with the people … All of our furniture was shipped by ship from New York City and my friend had her binoculars every day saying, "Okay Hazel, I think your ship is here, you'd better come over." Sure enough, our furniture had arrived. You don't realize you take these things for granted. I had said to Ted, "Describe the house for me." From what he said, I brought everything we had because I thought everything would be perfect. You wouldn't believe how beautiful everything fit in the house. In fact, I have a dresser and some other furniture in the other room that traveled everywhere with us. No matter where we went, I made a home for our family. They went to school, they had a wonderful life. All of our social life was inter-mixed. When we were going to go to Beirut, we could only take an air shipment 51 so I sold everything. The bank had told me I could buy everything we needed but I thought of the bank people in Cuba who had to leave everything behind and I thought, "No, we'll make do with what we have." I had a beautiful cedar double bed. We bought beds for the girls. I had a little kitchen table with six chairs and that was what we used even in Pakistan when we had this huge house. We had a fabulous time. We gave a farewell dinner to the ambassador of Colombia. Being friends with him, he had introduced us to so many people and we went to all the parties and we became very close to everyone. When it was time for him to leave, we had a very fancy dinner. I had the waiters from the Intercontinental Hotel wear white gloves and I made the food. I had decorated the card tables. It was a fairly good size home but the garage was open to the hall and I didn't want people to see the garage even though it was tiled and everything. So I made little curtains and put planters all along side. We had little tiny patio that I put potted plants, and then I planted Chinese grass. ROH: Well, thank you Hazel for your time and for talking to me. HB: Thank you.