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Issue 59.3 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Continuing Formation Apostohc Life Fertility and Intimacy Seeking God MAY JUNE 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 3 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiriiual legacies that flow from the charisms 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 P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©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. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 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 McD0nough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Barbara J. Soete SSND James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia V~qttberg SC MAY JUNE 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 3 contents 230 continuing formation Theological Education in Jesuit Formation Avery Dulles SJ shows that some principles from St. Ignatius Loyola help in dealing theologically with three characteristics of our technological age: the expansion of personal freedom, the sharpening of historical consciousness, and globalization. 241 From Resentment to Acceptance: Elderly Religious Return Benedict Auer OSB looks at the adjustments necessary for the healthy return of elderly religious retiring to a larger community setting. 249 apostolic life Electing Leaders in Women's Congregations Beatrice M. Eichten OSF explores the issue of power in community, as it underlies both election and ongoing leadership/membership relationships. 263 Apostolic Religious Communities in America: Moving in the Right Direction! Francis W. Danella OSFS stops, glances back appreciatively at the road U.S. religious life has traveled, turns again, and sees encouraging signs on the new road ahead. 271 Look to the Future Joel Giallanza CSC identifies some five essential tasks if religious life is to continue moving vigorously into the future. Review for Religious 277 fertility and intimacy Fertility Awareness and Women Religious Ren~e Mirkes OSF presents medical and spiritual-theology reasons for the practice of fertility awareness in the lives of consecrated women religious. 286 "I Stand Here Ironing": Delays in Developing Intimacy among Candidates and Members Suzanne Mayer IHM addresses intimacy concerns at two points: (1) if women entering religious-life communities come deficient in forming voluntary closeness and (2) if formation within religious life lacks such vital experiences. 294 seeking God Sharing Our Spirituality: Top-Down, Bottom-Up, or Lateral? Bertrand Webster FMS gives perspectives to consecrated people sharing a spirituality which likely was a lay inheritance in its origin. 299 Two Journeys: Coming Home and Going on Pilgrimage Janet Malone CND proposes hard questions to women and men religious about being at home in their community and about being available for a true pilgrimage. 3 11 Let Me Alone! True Christian Solitude Donald Macdonald SMM gives insights into why solitude is a necessary part of our Christian life and how it can be practiced. departments 228 Prisms 318 Canonical Counsel Duration of the Novitiate: General Norms 324 Book Reviews May-June 2000 Ergiveness is a major theme of this jubilee year. Forgiveness is not unknown in various religious traditions, but it holds central place in Christianity. The one truly Christian prayer--the prayer common to all ChristiansIis the Our Father as taught by .Jesus. In this prayer, the only phrase that interrelates God's action and our own is forgiveness. "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who tres-pass against us." As we recognize anew in this jubilee year, forgive-ness does not come easy to us. It is hard for us to ask for forgiveness. Moreover, while God is ever ready to for-give, we do not so readily find other persons forgiving us when we express our sorrow and our desire to be forgiven. From those who seek forgiveness, others may ' ask more--the fulfillment of this or that condition, the probation of longer time, a retribution that demands something beyond the debt incurred--before they even consider forgiving us. In the United States, the inmates on death row may truly be contrite and seek forgiveness, but the state and those offended still demand punish-ment, the punishment even of death. If we limit our-selves to a justice system, there is little place for forgiveness, whether it is the justice formally imposed by a secular judicial system or informally exercised by us in our day-to-day familial and more general social interactions. The worldly social context in which we are immersed makes it difficult, then, for us to forgive as Review for Religious well as to .seek forgiveness. The difficulty goes beyond the indi-vidual seeking forgiveness or the individual offering forgiveness. Each one is involved in the decision made regardless of the other individual involved. We know that we may seek, even beg, for-giveness and meet a stony heart. We also know that we may offer forgiveness, but we may be met by the turning away of the offend-ing party. Regardless, the beauty of the grace of forgiveness remains for the one seeking to forgive or to be forgiven, even when it is not reciprocated. Above and beyond the difficulty of a forgiving attitude is the true wonder of reconciliation. For reconciliation to happen, which is beyond forgiveness, it takes two--both parties active and, in a way, passive as well. From the first moment in the pursuit of rec-onciliation, a cooperation, a working together, is necessary. That forgiveness should be an integral part of our everyday Christian living is presumed. But, as St. Paul imaged it, our real work as Christians is the v?ork of reconciliation. We are given by God the "ministry of reconciliation" (2 Cor 5:18). In such a ministry, we will know the demands of dialogue, and we will experience the fatigue of negotiation. But this effort is required if we are to act a~ ambassadors of reconciliation. As we live this jubilee year, we find ourselves called as Christians to live, with renewed effort, the forgiveness that must be an integral part of our life with Christ. But more, we step for-ward to work at a special responsibility within our Christian voca-tion: to be a people committed to laboring for reconciliation. In a world, in a nation, in a church, in parish life, in family life, in community life, we have much to do if we are to work at being ambassadors of reconciliation. David L. Fleming SJ Note: I draw your attention to the most recent Best of the Review book, titled Praying as a Christian. You will find it a rich resource book for personal growth, for help in counseling and directing others, and for class study and discussion. Please see the last page of this issue for the order form. 229-- May-June 2000 continuing formation AVERY DULLES Theological Education in Jesuit Formation Jesuits ire fortunate in having some principles for the study of theology spelled out for them in the writings of St. Ignatius of Loyola, including the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. Ignatius himself, as we know, spent some eleven years of his adult life in studies, and sev-eral of these years were devoted specifically to the study of theology. He and all of his first companions obtained masters' degrees at Paris before they embarked on their apostolate. Having experimented with various programs of study, Ignatius became convinced that the curriculum at Paris was the best, and he prescribed that theology should not be taught until'the student has received a solid foundation in philosophy (Constitutions, §366).' St. Ignatius and Theology Anyone reading the Spiritual Exercises or the Spiritual Diary will be struck by the deep theological content of Ignatius's piety. For him the most holy Trinity, the incarnation of the Son, the redemptive death of Christ, the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, and the mediation of Mary and the saints were not just 23,0 Avery Dulles SJ presented this paper 30 December 1999 at the New Millennium Formation Conference held in Barrington, Illinois. His address is Fordham University; 441 East Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458. Review for Religious theological theorems. They were realities known to him from experience, so much so that in his Autobiography he claims he would have believed these great mysteries of faith even had they not been taught by Scripture and the church. Through prayer every Jesuit should seek to attain something of this kind of experiential knowl-edge in order to have a more personal apprehension of what God has revealed. Theology is supremely important for the religious life, accord-ing to St. Ignatius, and was foundational for the apostolate of the Jesuit order. In a crucially important paragraph of the Constitutions he writes: Since the end of the Society and of its studies is to aid our fellowmen to the knowledge and love of God and to the salvation of their souls, and since the subject of theology is the means most suited to this end, in the universities of the Society the principal emphasis ought to be placed upon it. Accordingly, there should be diligent treatment by excel-lent professors of what pertains to scholastic doctrine and Sacred Scripture, as also to that part of positive theology which is conducive to the aforementioned end, without entering into the part of canon law directed toward court trials. (§446) In the 16th century many humanists, including Ei'asmus, advo-cated the abandonment of Scholasticism and a return to Sacred Scripture and the church fathers as sources for theology. Ignatius was himself ardently devoted to the Scriptures, as is evident from every page of the Spiritual Exercises. He also had a great love for the fathers, as may be seen from many of his letters, such as the Letter on Obedience and the Letter on Perfection, both addressed to the scholastics of Coimbra. In the Spiritual Exercises Ignatius declares that the study of the fathers is well suited "to rouse the affections so that we are moved to love and serve God our Lord in all things." But he then adds that the Scholastic .doctors, such as St. Thomas, St. Bonaventure, and Peter Lombard, had the advantage of being able to build on the teachings of the fathers and saints. They are, moreover, better able to define and elucidate the doctrine of the faith according to the needs of our times, and to expose and refute prevalent errors and fallacies (§363). It is noteworthy that Ignatius picks names from the golden age of Scholasticism and omits more recent theologians such as Scotus, Occam, Biel, .Gersgn, and Nicholas of Cusa, all of whom he may have seen as less reliable. A further point that Ignatius makes in favor of the Scholastic May-June 2000 Dulles ¯ Tbeological Education The term "hie 'archical church" was a favorite of Ignatius, occurring three times in the text of the Spiritual Exercises. doctors is that they were able to profit from "the decisions of the councils and the definitions and decrees of our holy mother church" (§363). Emphatically a man of the church, Ignatius con-sidered that theology had to be done within the church and in obedience to church authorities.2 While he upheld the value of mystical graces, whether received by himself or by others, he insisted that such graces should be tested for their authenticity by reference to the teaching of the church. No conflict was possible for, as he put it, "one and the same Spirit" is at work in the hier-archical church and in the most intimate personal experiences (§365). Authentic mystical gifts, he once wrote to Francis Borgia, are to be esteemed, "always provided that humility and reverence are preserved towards our holy mother church and towards the rulers and teachers appointed in her." 3 The term "hierarchical church" was a favorite of Ignatius, occurring three times in the text of the Spiritual Exercises (§§ 170, 353,365). This epithet may in fact have been an original coinage of Ignatius himself.4 He looked upon the church as an organized society in which some members by divine institution exercise spiritual authority over others. In the first of his Rules for Thinking with the Church, calling for obedience of the judg-ment, he insists that "we must put aside all judgment of our own~ and keep the mind ever ready and prompt to obey in all things the true spouse of Christ our Lord, our holy mother, the hierarchi-cal church" (§353). In Rule 13 he lays down what some regard as a scandalous principle: "What seems to me white, I will believe to be black if the hierarchical church so defines" (§365). This principle, I submit, should be almost self-evident for Catholics. The faithful are required to believe on the authority of the church mysteries such as the Trinity, the Incarnation, and the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist, all of which are contrary to sensory appearances or to our ordinary ways of thought. As Thomas Aquinas writes in his famous Eucharistic hymn Adoro te devote: "Seeing, touching, tast- Review for Religious ing are in thee deceived; / How says trusty hearing? that shall be believed."s In a particular way Ignatius and his first companions trusted the guidance of the pope, whom they saw as the vicar of Christ, for the teaching and government of the universal church. According to Hugo Rahner, "Christ's vicar in Rome was for [Ignatius] a kind of supreme instance of that visibility which was both an essential mark of the church ,nd a necessary yardstick for measuring the invisible.''6 For this rea~.on he and his first companions placed the Society at the disposal of the pope, so that he might direct them to do what was most conducive to the glory Of God and the sal-vation of souls. They were convinced that Christ himself, through the mediation of his vicar, would show them the way to his greater service) That act of confidence was amply justified by the suc-cessful collaboration to which it led. In the Constitutions Ignatius laid down some very clear direc-tives about the kind of doctrine that should be taught in the for-mation of Jesuits. He writes, "The doctrine which they ought to follow in each subject should be that which is safest and most approved, as also the authors who teach it" (§358). A little later he v~rites: "Those books will be lectured on which in each subject have been deemed to contain more solid and safe doctrine"(§464). In the remainder of the paragraph, Ignatius specifies that there should be lectures on the Old Testament, the New Testament, and , the Scholastic doctrine of Thomas Aquinas. Ignatius's insistence on safer and more approved opinions does not flow from timidity, but from a holy reverence for the purity of God's word. Lest any-one think that these norms of St. Ignatius are no longer relevant aCto tmhep leevmee onft atrhye Nthoirrmd sm aipllpernonvieudm. i,n i t1 m99a5y bbye tuhsee f3u4lt tho G neontee rtahlat the Congregation reaffirm these principles in slightly modified lan-guage. The norms specify: 101. Professors should bear in mind that they do not teach in their own name, but in the church, in accordance with the mission received from the church, and that they teach joined together in charity in the Society of Jesus. Hence, they should let themselves be guided by the mind and will of the church, show proper respect for the teach-ing authority of the church, and have regard for the build-ing up of the faith in their students and in all the faithful. At the same time they should keep in mind those who are separated from us. May-June 2000 Dulles * Theological Education 102. Both professors and scholastics should faithfully adhere to and diligently study the written word of God along with sacred tradition. Let them have high regard for the teaching of the holy fathers and other doctors, specif-ically St. Thomas, and for those authors of the Society who are highly regarded in the church. 103, §1. Professors should clearly distinguish between matters of faith to be held by all and teachings approved by the consent of theologians. Probable, new, and personal explanations are to be proposed modestly. Norm 104 provides for the removal, in certain cases, of pro-fessors whose teaching departs from the doctrine of the magis-terium. As these quotations abundantly show, Ignatius did not con-ceive of the Society as a kind of theological avant-garde, adven-turously blazing new trails for the magisterium to follow. He would have condemned any such attitude for its lack of humility and sub-ordination. Jesuits, in his view, should prefer the safer and more approved doctrine and never fail in respect for the hierarchical teachers. Thanks to their acceptance'of the doctrine of those who teach in the name of Christ, they will have a solid base from which to engage in fruitful theological reflection. Ignatius and his companions were keenly alert'to the dan-gers posed by reform movements in the church of their day, espe-cially to crypto-Protestant positions being preached in Catholic pulpits in Italy by priests such as Bernardino Ochino, Peter Martyr Vermigli, and Agostino Mainardi. To guard against such doctrinal innovations, Ignatius, after moving to Italy in 1535, added the last five of the Rules for Thinking with the Church (SpEx §§366-370). He there advocates speaking with great pru-dence so as not to play into the hands of those who are seeking to undermine the doctrines of the church. These rules apply, he says, "above all in times which are as dangerous as ours" (§369). Were he alive today, he might find our own times no less dan-gerous than the early 16th century. ---234j The Jesuit Theological Tradition The early Jesuits threw themselves into the struggle against heresy throughout Western Europe. They rendered outstanding service as papal theologians at the Council of Trent. Though few in numbers, they were largely responsible for the successful preser- Review for Religious vation of Catholicism in Austria, Bavaria, the Rhineland, the Low Countries, and Poland. Peter Canisius and Robert Bellarmine, as doctors of the church, provided the theological rationale for this work. Inspired by love of Catholic truth and devotion to the Holy See, many Jesuits laid down their lives in the effort to regain England and Scotland for the faith. In subsequent centuries Jesuits, working closely with the Holy See, led the opposition to Baianism, Jansenism, Gallicanism, and various forms of rationalism and fideism, thus helping the Catholic Church to clarify and develop its own doctrine. The dogmatic schemata for Vatican I were almost exclusively com-posed by Jesuits. Under Leo XIII and Pius X, the Society promoted the renaissance of Thomistic philosophy and The Ignatian theological heritage is not static and repetitive, but dynamic and cautiously creative. theology. In the 20th century Jesuits were at the forefront of many movements of renewal, such as biblical studies, the liturgical move-ment, the ecumenical movement, and the theology of ressource-ment, sometimes miscalled la nouvelle thdologie. The Ignatian theological heritage, therefore, is not static and repetitive, but dynamic and cautiously creative. As Ignatius him-self adapted the Spiritual Exercises to different persons, consid-ering their age, health, education, and intelligence, so the church must adapt its presentation' of the Christian message to the chang-ing times. This process of adaptation is a delicate one because in our haste to adapt we could easily lose sight of the real content. My advice to the student and the young Jesuit theologian would therefore be to immerse himself in the sacred sources of Scripture and tradition, knowing that one cannot pass on what one has not first received. Ignatius himself spent more than .a decade in philo-sophical and theological studies before presenting himself for priestly ordination, and we should not do less. He loved the Scriptures, the fathers, and the Scholastic doctors, especially Thomas Aquinas, and we can drink at the same wells. Only after having mastered Christian doctrine in its purity and integrity can we adapt our presentation of it without risk of losing the substance. May-June 2000 Dulles * Theological Education I The Technological Age To whom or to what should we adapt as we are swept into the third millennium of Christianity? Obviously, to our own age. Although this age is too complex to be described in a few sen-tences, it might be designated, in a word, as the age of technol-ogy- an age replete with dazzling new possibilities for transmitting the faith, but also with unprecedented dangers for faith itself. The rapidly burgeoning means of electronic communication make it possible to reach new audiences and to present the faith in more varied ways than were previously possible. But we cannot be sure that our presentations will be effective. Can we confront people with the Christian message in its full depth and integrity, eliciting a firm response of faith? The ambivalence of the age is illustrated by several new factors, all intimately connected with technological advancement: the expansion of personal freedom, the sharpening of historical consciousness, and globalization. Each of these factors demands a theological response. The expansion of human freedom results in part from technol-ogy itself. Until now, people's lives were generally predetermined by the circumstances of their birth. Their nationality, their social status, their language, their occupation, and likewise their religion were normally those of their parents and grandparents. While this is still the case in many parts of the globe, it is increasingly less true in affluent countries such as our own. People are what they choose to be. Religious adherence is a matter of personal decision. St. Ignatius, living at the dawn of the new era, grasped the crucial importance of decision making and made it the central theme of the Spiritual Exercises. He had an acute perception of the gift of freedom and of the need to use it wisely. In his Rules for Thinking with the Church, he put his followers on guard against what he called "the poison of doing away with liberty" (§369). Down through the centuries Jesuits have contributed to the theology of freedom in various fields. Some, such as Luis Molina, dealt with the dilemma of human freedom and divine sovereignty in the distribution of grace. Jesuit moral theologians, defending freedom ofconscience, opposed rigorism in its various forms. Jesuit political theologians, protesting against tyrannical govern-ments, helped to lay down the theological foundations for the modern democratic state. Closer to our own time, John Courtney Murray was the principal architect of Vatican II's epoch-making Declaration on Religious Freedom (Dignitatis humanae). Review for Religious In our culture today, freedom is badly misunderstood. All too many define it as an entitlement to do what I choose without regard for my responsibilities. Freedom is seen as something opposed to commitment, and thus also to religious commitment, including especially commitment to the priestly or religious state. We urgently require a philosophy and theology in which freedom is linked with responsibility. It needs to be more clearly shown that freedom is enhanced and fulfilled by adherence to the true and the good, and that only Christ, who is the truth, can make us truly free (Jn 8:32). A second characteristic of our technological era is the inten-sification of historical consciousness. Under the impact of new inventions, our world is changing so rapidly that we are in danger of estrangement from the past. It is easy to fall into a kind of his-torical relativism, in which the certainties of our predecessors are subjected to doubt or rejection simply because they are old. In the religious area, some find it difficult to give more than a tentative and provisional assent to articles of faith, assuming that they may be invalidated by some future discoveries. Standing as he did at the end of the Middle Ages and the dawn of modern times, St. Ignatius knew how to deal with historical change without loss of permanent truth. Although he was involved in the Catholic Reformation and established an original style of Catholic religious life, he was quick to recognize and resist osten-sible reforms that were contrary to the true Catholic spirit. In our day we face even more radical problems. Since Christianity is a historical religion, we should have no difficulty in accepting the fact of change. But history is not the ultimate horizon of the human spirit, which reaches out to the eternal. Through God's gift, the human mind can grasp permanent and unalterable truths. With the aid of deep philosophical and the-ological study, we can help our contemporaries to see that God will not cease to be God and that Jesus Christ is always to be adored as the Son of God, the same yesterday, today, and for-ever (Heb 13:8). The church is and remains the pillar and the ground of truth (1 Tm 3:15) because Christ remains with it to the end of the age (Mr 28:20). A third characteristic of our era is globalization. Our con-sciousness is not limited to any particular region, nation, or con-tinent. Religiously, this means that we are increasingly exposed to the claims of many different religions and ideologies. In a country May-June 2000 237 -- Dulles ¯ Tbeological Education such as the United States, innumerable churches and religions rub shoulders day by day. Is it not arrogance, some ask, for any religion or church to claim privileged access to the truth? 'Here again Ignatius can be a guide. Living at a time when Western Europe was ceasing to be religiously united, he realized the need to resist unsound doctrines. W~th a vision encompassing the whole world, he sent out companion Jesuits to evangelize the new world, Africa, and Asia. Before long, Francis Xavier would be debating with bonzes in Japan, and Jesuit missionaries would be inculturating the faith by means of the Paraguay reductions and similar experiments in the Americas. Today we are witnessing religious and cultural interaction on a much vaster scale. The new situation creates opportunities for understanding and dia.logue, overcoming the parochialism of the past. But it also contains dangers of hostility and conflict or, at the other extreme, agnosticism and religious indifference. Some fall into a superficial religious relativism, as though Buddha could be for Buddhists and Krishna for Hindus what Jesus Christ is for Christians. One of the major problems of our day is to construct a viable theology of religious pluralism--one that gives due value to all religions without compromising the dogmatic truths of our Christian faith. Discerning the Times In its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes), the Second Vatican Council recalls the church's duty to "scrutinize the signs of the times and to interpret them in the light of the gospel" (GS §4). It declares that the church, led by the Spirit of God who fills the whole earth, "labors to deci-pher authentic signs of God's presence and purpose in the hap-penings, needs, and desires" of men and women of our day (GS §11). A little later the same document points out that it is the task of the entire church--pastors, theologians, and the laity--"to hear, distinguish, and interpret the many voices of our age, and to judge them in the light of the divine word" (GS §44). St. Ignatius is an outstanding master of the art of discern-ment. In the book of the Exercises, he provides two admirable sets of rules for the discernment of spirits. He puts us on guard against deceptions in which we might easily be entangled. These principles, I believe, apply not only to individual decision mak- Review for Religiotts ing about something like a vocation, but also to the church's effort to discern the signs of the times and to adapt prudently to new conditions of life. In this connection it is well to keep in mind another key Ignatian principle, that of agere contra. Ignatius bends over back-ward, so to speak, in order to defend the church on precisely those points where he sees the enemy employing his deceptions. Several times in the Exercises he states that we should always do the oppo-site of what the tempter, or the evil spirit, is urging (§350). "The enemy," he writes, "becomes weak, loses courage, and turns to flight with his seductions as soon as one leading a spiritual life faces his temptations boldly, and does exactly the opposite of what he suggests" (§325). When the traditional doctrine of the church is being attacked, we should avoid anything that smacks of compromise. On the con-trary, we should present the received doctrine at its full strength, throwing our entire weight on the side of the scales contrary to the dominant temptation. Ignatius himself does this in his Rules for Thinking with the Church, in which he calls upon Catholics to praise the religious institutions and practices thaf are currently under attack. It will be for the Jesuits of your generation to organize the Society's response to the dominant temptations of the present age. The church requires a team of highly educated persons, able to engage in the intellectual apostolate on a variety of levels and in various modes, such as teaching in schools and universities, preach-ing, writing, and electronic styles of communication. Mere activism is not enough. The church has the right to expect from the Society of Jesus the capacity to understand the problems at some depth. We must see the plausibility of the fal-lacies and be sensitive to the temptations to dilute or fall away from the faith. And, having seen these things, we should throw ourselves wholeheartedly into the struggle, acting energetically against the predominant temptations. The Topic and the Point I may seem to have gone somewhat beyond my assigned topic, which was to deal with Jesuit formation. But I believe that noth-ing I have said is beside the point. I am pleading for a theology that is solidly founded on Scripture and tradition, utterly loyal to the May-June 2000 Dulles ¯ Theolog~cal Educa~ion m'agisterium and to the pope, nourished by reverent prayer and sacramental worship. In matters open to debate, we Jesuits should, I believe, follow the safer and more approved opinions. At the same time we should courageously face the deepest questions of our own day, making the necessary adaptations without the slightest compromise in matters of doctrinal truth. Using the techniques of Ignatian discernment, we should seek to mount a balanced cri-tique of the emerging technological culture. To do this we need an updated theology of freedom, of historicity, and of intercultural and interreligious dialogue. If the Society of Jesus is seen to be effectively addressing cru-cial issues such as these, it will earn the gratitude and respect of all who love our holy faith. It will attract talented and dedicated can-didates and will, I believe, enjoy a new springtime at the beginning of the new millennium. Notes l The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus and Their Complementary. Norms (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996). Numbers refer to paragraphs of the Constitutions. 2 On Ignatius as vir ecclesiasticus, see Henri de Lubac, The Splendor of the Church (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1986), pp. 241-278, esp. pp. 249 and 258-267. 3 Hugo Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), p. 229. 4 Yves Congar, L'Eglise de Saint Augnstin i, l'gpoque moderne (Paris: Cerf, 1970), p. 369. s I here use the translation by Gerard Manley Hopkins. In the orig-inal Latin these verses go: "Visus, tactus, gustus in te fallitur, / Sed auditu solo tuto creditur." 6 Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian, pp. 219-220. 7 Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian, p. 221. --- 2405 "Review for Religious BENEDICT AUER From Resentment to Acceptance: Elderly Religious Return Ibn recent years a topic of concern for religious communities, oth male and female, has been the return of large numbers of community members who are now retiring or have become too old or ill to continue in their present apostolates. Many come back full of resentment, not wishing to return under any cir-cumstances to an institution they left twenty, thirty, or even fifty years ago. The place they return to is not the place they left. In many cases they left before Vatican Council II and now are return-ing to a motherhouse or monastery they never lived in--for it has taken on a totally different aspect physically, psychologically, and even spiritually. Not only are they not prepared to come "home" to such alien places, almost like different planets; they return as strangers. The religious who have remained home or are now living in the moth-erhouse often do not know these returning persons except as names on rosters or ordos. Sadly, these religious often see the returning members as a burden or an intrusion. The welcome is there, but sometimes not as real as it should be. Superiors find themselves faced with people who have not wished to return, who may have been sent away years ago because they were not "good" community members or were more adapted to the external apos- Benedict Auer OSB returns to our pages after some years. He has a doctorate in Christian spirituality and is an associate professor of edu-cation at Saint Martin's College; 5300 Pacific Avenue, Southeast; Lacey, Washington 98503. -24! May-j~tne 2000 Auer ¯ From Resentment to Acceptance tolate. And meanwhile the local community wonders who these incoming people are. This is a crucial issue for our graying communities, and one that is only now starting to be addressed. Having raised the issue with many different religious communities, I have found one uni-versal response: "Yes, it is occurring with us, but what do we do?" It would be foolish to think that I have a universal answer, but I know that we need to look at the problem. This article will address some common issues and may help us think about our hospitality toward longtime members who have not lived at home, but are now returning to that "home" as a place to die. Offering Hospitality A key to Benedictine hospitality is "treating all guests as Christ." Usually Benedictine monasteries are noted for their hos-pitality. It is easy to treat guests well because they come and even-tually go. Being hospitable to our own members who come and stay is more difficult. But in truth these returning religious are guests too. Why? Because they have to be newly introduced to what life is like now at a given institution or motherhouse. Even such a simple thing as the daily horarium is new to them. Many left years ago when 4:30 or 5 was the rising hour and often the entire Office and even Mass were crammed into a small section of the day so that "other things could be done." After Vatican II the Liturgy of the Hours came to be said at the proper times, yet out in the parish and school apostolates this was often not the case. The people returning may not have been saying the Office regularly or may have been saying it only in a modified form. Those who prayed the liturgical hours in private have to relearn doing it once again as a member of a choir or community. But how do you gently yet firmly instruct someone who has been a religious or monk longer than you have been alive? Returning members need a care-filled orientation. (It might not be good to call it an orientation, but that is what it is.) They are deeply in need of compassion. They have been serving the community for most of their lives, often entering at fourteen or sixteen years of age and giving their entire lives to the service of the Lord as members of that community. When they are "forced" to return to the motherhouse or monastery, they have the rug pulled out from undertheir feet. They leave behind the local Review for Religious support system they have had for many years, and in some cases, because of distance or infirmity, they are unable to maintain even minimal contact with their friends in their former surroundings. Often these religious feel more alone than eve~" at a time when they need friends and support persons more than ever. The people of the motherhouse or monastery community are so busy with various responsibilities that they have little time to help these returnees adjust to their new environment. Someone within the community should be appointed just for this purpose. Sadly, a one-week retreat has not been enough to introduce these religious to rudimentary aspects of life in their old yet new com-munity. Many people in the new community do not know them: they have heard of them, but they do not share common experiences. One or two of their classmates may have remained at or returned to the institution, but this is seldom enough. Psychologically they feel abandoned. They have given their lives to an apostolate, and now it has left them, at least in their own estimation. Where they are now required to go and live is not what they expected; it is not how they expected to await death. Many missionary orders have this same problem after their members have spent years in a mission thousands of miles away. Aging missionaries may be required to leave all the friends they have made in the missions and to return to a climate in which they no" longer feel at Aging missionaries may be required to leave all the friends they have made in the missions and to return to a climate in which they no longer feet at home. home. In such circumstances they need to be given a reintroduc-tion that will help them move from being guests to being fellow religious once again. They need someone to accompany them at Office recitation and even to inform them about community events and about simple things like how to use the washing machines and where to find various necessities like mops or bandages. Gentling Resentment Another problem is anger or resentment. Many of these members are not returning as happy campers. Some are down- May-June 2000 243 -o- Auer * From Resentment to Acceptance right angry men and women. They have to go through the steps on death and dying outlined by Elisabeth Kiibler-Ross, for their previous lives have ceased to exist. At first they are in denial, denying that thirty or forty years have passed and that what they have given their lives for no longer needs them. Many felt them-selves irreplaceable and now find themselves, in one way or another, abandoned. The natural next step is anger. Recently I was present when a returning monk was met by another monk before dinner. The returning monk was angry, and so, when the other monk said, "Isn't it great to be home and no longer responsible for a large parish?" the response was less than edifying. The returnee brought to speech what was inside. Another monk, asked whether he was happy to be home after being away for years, replied, "This is not my home." These were not the right places and times for such feelings of resentment to come out. But no other place or time had been arranged, and so the feelings spilled out here, much to the embarrassment of the community and of the guests who were present. For all concerned, better occasions should be created for returnees to articulate their anger. Then, of course, bargaining begins along this line: "I will go back eventually to do some parish work, or teach part-time, or help the new priest." Additionally, bargaining will take on many different character-istics. Eventually the returnees realize that they have exagger-ated a feeling of despair~maybe not total despair, but despair nevertheless: "I am waiting to die . . . I have nothing to look forward to but death. I have no value." Communities often fail to realize that this crisis is taking place. I have heard superiors say, "Well, you now have time to rest," the worst response that could be made. These people do not want to rest: perpetual rest is staring them in the face. They need a program that helps them see aspects of them-selves they have forgotten. As active religious, they may have been neglectful of prayer. Some reintroductions to contempla-tive prayer might help, but people should not be pushed into them. One monk told me that at ninety-six years of age he was in charge of praying for vocations. He took this responsibility seri-ously. He had worked in parish ministry until he was ninety-five and now was adjusting to inactivity and doing an excellent job of it. He had reached the final stage: acceptance. He had accepted that he would not be returning to his apostolate, but would Review for Religious remain home. This was not fatalism. Religious all too frequently move from despair to fatalism, and everyone around them suffers, and prays for their happy death, and hopes it comes quickly. There are, of course, also many who return and do not take long to pass through these stages and adapt quickly to community life, at least on the surface. I remember a returning monk (he had been a parish priest and a hospital chaplain) who seemed to fit in immediately. But six months later he was dead. I remember find-ing him in his cell with paper on his bed so his shoes would not make a mark on the bedspread. He was a good man, but as an introvert nothing came out; his feelings remained within, and he soon died, never really having accepted his fate. Some religious returning to the community are not just anx-ious, but living in fear. One religious told me that his order has set aside a house in Ireland for its retiring members. They are sent there from the missions to die. Many have spent their lives in African countries, and now, returning after forty or fifty years, they are scared. Death is easy to address in someone else but not in ourselves. Some of us feel unafraid of anything until we are faced with our own vulnerability and eventual death. Some returnees are sick or even terminally ill, but many are not. A cousin of mine, after spending much of her life in missionary work in China, was imprisoned by the Japanese during World War II and by communists afterwards. When she finally returned home, she was sent to a new convent built just for the elderly. There, isolated from the convent and motherhouse she knew, she felt abandoned by her sisters. She wanted to walk the grounds of the convent she had been a part of long ago. She could not. After a few years she died, I believe not from illness but of a bro-ken heart. I have talked with many other retired and elderly reli-gious who feel the same. There are, of course, illnesses that require special treatment. And there are terminal cancer patients who need help the com-munity cannot adequately give. But some commfinities have cre-ated "dumping ground" convents or monasteries for their elderly or retired religious, places to put them so they are not in the way. Of this, one superior said, "They are happier together." Are they? I wonder. For they are now without meaning in their lives. They do not have around them their fellow religious to help them, nor are they let in on what is occurring in their reli-gious congregation. May-June 2000 Auer * From Resentment to Acceptance r Finding Meaning. Part of the problem is that these returnees need something to do. Their lives seem to have lost meaning. In a monastery the suggestion was once made to assign several retired monks some manual labor to do, like cleaning a floor or setting up the refec-tory for meals. The abbot's response was "These are priests. They cannot be asked to do manual labor." How sad! Many of them would have loved to do something. Any service given to the com-munity is better than sitting and watching television all day long. Communities have to find ways to employ returning religious. Today, when many retire quite young, a good number start new careers. Permitting and encouraging this is the least we can do for them. We should call on the abilities of our retired members. We should give them as much attention as we give to the recruit-ment of new members, for this reason among more urgent and important ones: the treatment that candidates see our elderly and retired members receiving will affect their own decision to enter or stay in the community. Most communities have addressed the issue of caring for ill members and those with handicaps. We have insurance policies, we have arrangements with nursing homes, and we have even added infirmary wings to our buildings. But beyond that not much is done. One sees elderly members wandering listlessly down community hallways. They need access to events in the house and in the surrounding community. My parents and many others in their eighties travel across the country to visit people and to see things that interest them. Many elderly religious have interests they were once too busy to pursue, and now they have time. I know a monk who wrote articles on contemplative prayer until he was in his late eighties. Some religious can finally work on the rose garden that they never had time for before. My pre-sent abbot hopes to write that book on birds, an intense interest of his, when he retires. Communities sometimes have to help their elderly discover what they would like to do. We can help people do this by initi-ating some semiretirem~ent programs in which people can start cultivating other interests before they turn eighty or ninety. This is not the job of the superior alone, but also of the entire com-munity, including the older people themselves. Religious should not look at retirement or a smaller work assignment as an indi-cation of their own failure. These things are, rather, new oppor- Review for Religious tunities to grow in ways that most of us will be called to do. Hopefully, religious will be encouraged not to work themselves to death, something that communities too often considered sim-ply heroic. Working ourselves to death is likely to be suicidal, not heroic. I heard one aged religious say, "It is one way out of here." What a sad comment on a life dedicated to Christian prin-ciples and an active apostolate! Included in this program to re-form our returning religious should be some counselors to work with them. Many may think that these religious would not go near a coun-selor, but I disagree. They may have been too busy to take the time for their own personal growth, and now they are able to do so. Some may need extensive counseling to help them cope with a fear of death, facing the unknown, and even facing themselves. We are all called to conversion, and many have not had the time to really convert in the Lonergan sense, "to probe into the depths of our being" and accomplish "a radical trans-formation." I have seen elderly and retired members of communities do just that. I have heard stories of hor-ror: "Father was such a terror in the classroom," "Sister was a beast toward her children in the first grade." I have met these people at seventy or eighty and found them delightful and deeply religious. What had happened? Often they were not suited to teaching, but more often they had undergone a radical conver-sion in their latter years. This call was to acceptance, and many have accepted their vocation with a new emphasis on contempla-tion or prayer. Such transformations are a joy to behold. Their communities have been supportive and given them an opportunity to tell their stories, stories that are stories of God, of God in their lives. Indeed, such stories are more for our benefit than theirs. Each of us walks a similar path, and we need to hear the witness of those who have gone before us. Father John Scott OSB, a professor of history at St. Martin's College and a confrere, has done a wonderful job of accumulat-ing an oral history, recording what people can recall and tell us of our past. Although it is an historical record, it is also a story of individuals being called to conversion--struggling with and finally accepting what has happened in their lives. Experience Communities sometimes have to help their elderly discover what they would like to do. 247 May-June 2000 Auer * From Resentment to Acceptance comes first, meaning later. Father Scott helps monks in our com-munity see the meaning of their lives by helping them tell their story. Many other communities are doing similar things with oral history. Finally, I would suggest something else, a change in our for-mation programs. During formation religious should be explic-itly taught that we do not own our apostolates. They do not belong to us; they are our mission, and our mission is from Jesus Christ. Many religious spend their lives building kingdoms-- from snack bars to institutions to parishes. They consider these their own domains. But apostolate assignments may be changed. Young recruits need to be made aware of this when they enter, and they may also need to be reminded from time to time so that they remember it even when they are eighty or ninety. These suggestions may give rise to further dialogue on this continuing problem. In justice we cannot assign persons to one or two apostolates over a span of fifty or sixty years and then not help them adjust to a new segment of life: retirement. Whatever their temperament or their virtue, the elderly of the present and the future need compassion, and new members need to see that we treat our returning lifelong members with as much charity and hospitality as if they were simply guests. They, of course, are more than guests. The love we show them is an important con-temporary way of following St. Benedict's recommendation to treat all guests as Christ. Bibliography Auer, Benedict. "Monastic Asylums," on institutionalization and monastic formation. Human Development 19, no. 4 (Winter 1998), pp. 35-39. Ferruci, Piero. What We May Be: The Vision and Techniques of Psychosynthesis. London: Thorsons, 1995. Fry, Timothy, ed. The Rule of St. Benedict in English (RB 1980). Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982. Goffman, Erving. Asylums: Essays on the Social Situation of Mental Patients and Other Inmates. Garden City, New York: Anchor Books, 1961. Lonergan, Bernard, SJ. "Theology in Its New Context." In The Theology of Renewal, Vol. 1. Montreal: Palm Publications, 1968. Review for Religious BEATRICE M. EICHTEN Electing Leaders in Women's Congregations Election in a religious community is always a time of anxiety, tension, and hope. The impact of elected lead-ership on each person and on the future of the commu-nity is significant, even though communities know that in four to six years new leaders will be elected. When women's religious congregations elect leadership, they deal with a number of issues: their conscious and uncon-scious learnings about power, the changing role of lead-ership, and the qualities members look for in their elected leaders. I will explore the issue of power in com-munity as it underlies both election and ongoing lead-ership/ membership relationships. Then I will reflect on implications this has for the function of leadership and on qualities needed and called forth from those serying as congregational leaders. Power and Community Relationships Power is a human reality, and operates in religious communities as it does in other groups. People have per-sonalpower coming from their identity and presence. In Beatrice M. Eichten OSF is a consultant with religious communities of both men and women and with congrega-tions that sponsor healthcare. Her address is P.O. Box 406; Winona, Minnesota 55987. May-June 2000 249 E~cbten * Electing Leaders addition, certain persons exercise informal power through their influence, whether in a negative or positive way. Organized groups select or elect persons to exercise formal power to help them stay focused on and faithful to their goals. These same expressions of power are present in religious con-gregations, especially in the matter of electing and then relating to their elected leaders. There is value in understanding the func-tion of power within this process of electing some women to exer-cise formal power within the congregational structures, structures that all the members together have defined for the congregation. Power is a word and a reality that women in general consciously avoid. It is for most women a negative word connoting undesirable characteristics, and it is a reality they try to deny. This is not true for men. Vv'hy is that? Women's Relationship to Power Dr. Pat Heim in her book Hardball for Women looks at the games children play to explain why women relate to power so dif-ferently from men.~ Though her book relates to women in business settings, I will explore how her explanation of childhood learn-ings also applies to women's religious congregations. Women's main focus is relationship. As children, women learn how to be competent interpersonally and how to develop and sus-tain relationships with others. Today many girls participate in team sports--a rare thing for girls ten or fifteen years ago. Given that recent change, some of the learnings attributed to boys will undoubtedly happen for girls. Most of today's women, however, and most of today's women religious, have done almost all of their playing one-on-one with other girls, usually with a best friend, sometimes with two friends. What Girls Tend to Learn at Play How to play one-on-one. Girls develop interpersonal skills, including how to "read" and respond to another's emotions. The skill works well for adult women in families, communities, and work settings as they tune in to emotional dynamics and offer care and nurture to the persons involved. Playing one-on-one, how-ever, can keep women from going beyond how something affects another to acting on principles and deciding what serves the larger Review for Religious whole. Knowing that some members will be upset by the decision may paralyze many a woman who needs to make hard decisions. Also, playing one-on-one, with its focus on individuals, can prevent women from envisioning the whole and defining clear responsi-bility and accountability within a large group of people. How to get along. Good little girls learn to be sweet, cahn, gen-tle, charming, mild, and helpful. Conflict, assertiveness, and direct confrontation are to be avoided at all costs. Instead of being up front and direct, girls learn indirect methods of dealing with dis-sension, such as involving a third party, dropping hints, or practic-ing avoidance, all in order to pre-serve the relationship. All women religious in conflictual situations recognize these and similar meth-ods in themselves. In fact, other women often see directness on the part of women as aggressive and pushy. This sometimes leads to conflict. In religious congrega-tions, where relationships are important and carry a "familial" character, conflict may feel very threatening. It is important, however, that it be dealt with directly, not in a blaming or judgmental way, but with each person owning her own experience and feelings. Unfortunately, some people, in their desire to maintain "nice," "positive" relationships, may see this directness as causing trouble, causing damaged relationships. How to be fair to everyone. Little girls try to resolve conflicts by compromising and being fair so that everyone wins. They want to be sure no one feels left out, and so they flatten differences to make everyone "all the same." When that carries over into adult relationships, some convoluted relationships occur between elected leaders and members. Members are not all the same; they each have unique gifts and needs. Setting a policy for all because a few need limits, and creating a committee rather than asking a person with special skills to do a task, are two examples among many. Being "fair to everyone" can cause chapters and assemblies to set-tle for a middle-of-the-road arrangement when they should be promoting a visionary life. An effort to accommodate everyone's sense of direction for the community leads to an unfocused and hard-to-accomplish plan. An effort to accommodate everyone's sense of direction for the community leads to an unfocused and hard-to-accomplish plan. 251 3lay-June 2000 ' Eicbten ¯ Electing Leaders I ] How to engage in play as a process. Girls' games seldom have a goal (one does not "win" at dolls or playing house). If there is a purpose, it is to get along with playmates,.create intimacy, and share imaginative ideas. This learned behavior serves congrega-tions well when it is the time for dreaming, for developing ideals and fostering goals. The challenge is to follow this up with clear assignments and holding people accountable, thus bringing the dreams into reality. All communities have reams of documents filled with wonderful ideals. Have they brought them to fruition? Have they stopped the process because it would be unpopular or because the responsible persons did not follow through and no one dared confront them? How to negotiate differences. For girls, decisions are reached by group consensus. When there are different views about the best way to set up doll house, or whose turn it is to play dress-up, girls learn to talk their differences through, take turns, compromise. The goal is a win/win outcome, not a win/lose one. "You want to play house, I want to play nurse. Okay, you be the mommy and bring your sick baby to me at the hospital." This is a learning that supports collaborative models of leadership and efforts at recon-ciliation. The goal is not "anything goes"; it is true collaboration that aims at the good of the whole. The risk is that including every-one's ideas leads to a mediocre outcome. How to keep the power "dead even." Girls grow up in flat orga-nizations, not hierarchies. They learn to cooperate within a web of relationships for the sake of preserving friendship. It does not take long for a little girl to discover that, if she wants to be the leader and starts giving directions, her playmates will call her bossy and avoid her. As a result, girls try to keep the power "dead even" and learn to exercise it ve.ry carefully. This is a learning that makes elected leadership in congregations very difficult. For, even though the power of elected leaders is not "dead even" with that of other members, the latter still tend to define for themselves how obedi-ence and authority will be understood and carried out, in routine functioning and also in special efforts regarding mission or com-munity or both. How that reality is dealt with is critical for con-gregations' life and vitality. When it is not dealt with,.when communities attempt to flatten power and authority, untold energy is spent on internal dynamics rather than on mission and vision. Such learnings from their earlier years have an effect on how women religious relate to each other in community. Men, on the Review for Religious other hand, learn very different behaviors from their childhood play, which often involves numbers of boys in team play. Women who have grown up playing team sports will recognize as their own some of the learnings males tend to acquire. Whether women have grown up learning things typical of women or men, those learnings have implications for women religious. Things Boys Tend to Learn from Their Play How to compete. Competition is the name of the game. The games little boys play involve adversarial relationships: us vs. them. They learn that competition and conflict are stimulating and fun, to be welcomed, not avoided. They also learn that when the game is over the game is over. The adversarial, competitive relationship during the game does not affect their relationships afterwards. After a bruising discussion over a controversial issue, men will often go out together to play a game of golf. Women, on the other hand, may have learned to compete, but they are likely to take the competition personally and retain negative feelings towards one another afterwards. How to always do what the coach says. Boys learn early that, in order to win the competition, there must be a leader or coach to focus strategy and effort. This creates a structural hier-archy unlike the flat organization common among girls. In order to move up the hierarchy, boys and men learn to do what the coach or boss says--period. No negotiation! How to be a good team player. Boys learn early that they will not always get to be team captain or coach and tell others what to do. Most often they will be in the position of receiving instruc-tions. Good team members learn to give up their individuality and independence for the good of the-team. They see the importance of supporting the other team members so that the team wins--a win that is "their" win. (Women have a more difficult time sacri-ficing their individuality for the team goal.) Men also learn that, to be a good team member, it is vital to know how to play with peo-ple you do not like, but whose skills will help the team win. (Because women tend to personalize conflict, they have a more Good team members learn to give up their individuality and independence for the good of the team. -2Y3 -- May-June 2000 Eicbten ¯ Electing Leaders difficult time getting past their dislike of the person to the estab-lishment of a good working relationship.) How to be a leader. Despite the team nature of their play, boys do at times get to take on the mantle of leadership. This gives them the opportunity to experience their own authority, to prac-tice leadership, to give directions and make them stick. When they do, they are rewarded and valued for their leadership. How to be aggressive or appear aggressive. In order to do well for the team, little boys learn that it is important to look like a mean, aggressive player, even if they do not feel all that tough. They learn power plays that help create an illusion of power. (As we will see later, women are more likely to accommodate one another, to negotiate.) How to take criticism and praise. In sports, boys receive con-stant criticism from the coach and from other players. They learn the connection between getting feedback and improving their per-formance. They also learn how to take criticism as feedback so it does not damage their self-esteem and destroy their feelings of self-worth. (For girls, however, criticism is not usually experienced as feedback about behavior or performance. It is more often expe-rienced as criticism of their person.) Howto stay focused on the goal. Rather than perfecting the details (as girls and women might), in team play boys set their sights on the goal line. If they make a mess in getting there or knock some-one over, that is just part of the game. They learn early on that they cannot do everything perfectly, but that perfection does not really matter, since winning is what counts. Winning is all that matters. Boys play games to win. Their stance is that there is no point to playing the game if you are not going to win. And, in order to win, you must take risks--playing it safe will never make your team number one. Half the time, boys will lose. Rather than feeling devastated by the failure, boys learn how to take a loss, learn from it, and move on. (On the other hand, women tend to replay the failure over and over, to beat themselves up for failures and attempt to fix blame. This is reflected in women's response to negative evaluations of com-munity meetings. They are overly sensitive, paying greater atten-tion to one or two criticisms of the meeting than to three hundred positive evaluations.) How to have a game plan. Little boys play in crowds, not in dyads or triads as little girls do. So they need a way of organizing Review for Religious an unwieldy group of people. They do so by following the coach's game plan. They learn early that, if each one plays independently of the others, the team will not score that coveted touchdown. (For adult women, their own individuality and creative expression are important. It is difficult for them to subordinate their indi-viduality to the team goal--note such areas as dress, living arrange-ments, ministry, and availability for leadership positions and motherhouse roles. Adult women can set their independence aside, but they intend to do it consciously and for a significant reason.) Would that the behavior patterns that girls and boys develop could be combined in such a way that the best of both would improve people's ways of being and working together. Member/Leader Relationships among Women Women need to be alert to power relationships. In girls' play, direction is negotiated, not set by a power figure. There is no sin-gle leader, and, even if one is identified as an official leader, she is expected not to act the part. What does that lead to? Girls learn early that negotiation is the key to getting things done their way. More often than not, a woman's goal is to bring others around, not direct them. When women are in a hierar-chical structure, their discomfort with not having "dead even" power, with being a subordinate or a boss, can lead to inappro-priate negotiation after a decision has been reached, or to passive-aggressive behavior. Such behavior is more likely when the person in power is a woman--"Who does she think she is?" The response of communities needs to be "She thinks she is, and she is, your elected community leader (or your supervisor, or your local com-munity leader)." Sometimes women sabotage other women in power through indirect cattiness, gossip, negativity. Often these women are responding unconsciously to their negative perception of another woman's power. Leaders need to practice and encourage direct communication, done so as to build and maintain relationships that express genuine interest in the other sisters as persons. Women in leadership, as they move from membership to elected leadership positions, realize quickly that the move changes relationships with other women in community. This is because the flat relationships women enjoy are antithetical to hierarchical relationships. The elected leader, like it or not, is in a position of xYlay-June 2000 Eicbten ¯ Electing Leaders power. Friendships can be lost or damaged when one is elected to lead the community. Simple statements made by the leader can seem to carry negative meanings, but such outcomes derive more from the hearer's family and communal experience than from the words and their intent. Also, confidentiality may prevent leaders from disclosing every reason and circumstance; this, too, may bring negative judgments and unfounded criticism upon them. Women leaders may find that their need to be liked keeps them from doing a competent job. The desire to preserve harmo-nious relationships can make it difficult for a leader to make the tough, right decisions, knowing that Sister X will be angry with them. Consultation and team processing can help the leader move toward making the needed decision, but it may still damage some relationships. If the decision is tough but fair, however, people will eventually come around. It is helpful for congregational members and leaders to under-stand how power tends to affect relationships among them. On some projects both women and men find it relatively easy to use power appropriately or to acquiesce in its use. But, when there are disagreements in their communal and personal lives, leaders and members of women's communities need to be alert to power dynamics. We will look at some behaviors as they operate in con-flict situations. Exercising Power in Conflict Accommodation. Accommodation means giving in; the others are allowed to have their way. This may be appropriate when oth-ers feel strongly about something and you really do not care. But, because women have been trained to accommodate others for the sake of preserving the relationship, it is important for them to attend to what is important to them and to be willing to take a stand on that issue. Inappropriate accommodation occurs when persons do not know what they want or feel, when they give up what is important to them in order to keep the peace, or when they decide to "help" another win because they see that it is impor-tant to him or her. Avoidance. In avoidance, a conflict is ignored in the hope that it will disappear. Women commonly do this because they detest confrontation. A situation that is avoided, however, worsens for having been ignored. When conflict is not addressed directly, it Review for Religious does not go away; it just goes underground. The hostility gets rechanneled into passive-aggressive, destructive behavior. Women use a particular kind of avoidance, especially in communication. They avoid addressing the issue directly with the relevant parties because that could damage the relationship. Instead, they drop hints (and think they have been clear), or they tell others about the dispute (and hope it will get back to the person concerned). Compromise. In compromising, you win some and you lose some. "I'11 give you this if you give me that." They do not get all they want, but they decide half a loaf is better than none at all. The down-side of compromise is that it may be used to avoid the interpersonal work that happens when people resolve conflicts through collaboration as described below. Competition. In competition there is usually a winner and a loser. Men are very comfortable with competi-tion and often make things a win/lose dynamic. For women, a win/lose dynamic is not attractive. They tend to see it as not "fair" or "dead even," and thus damaging to relationships. Collaboration. In collaboration, two individuals or groups find a way to work out their differences so that both are satisfied with the result. They delve into why they hold such disparate views. Collaboration takes time and trust. For a worthwhile discussion, persons must care about their own underlying concerns, be will-ing to understand the other side, and be open to appropriate influ-ence. When differences are resolved collaboratively, relationships are improved; the level of trust increases. Women are adept at col-laboration because as children they have learned to share equally with everyone and to focus on being fail to others. Men tend to be less adept at collaboration because they focus on winning, on doing better than their colleagues. Women look for solutions that help everyone win. These learnings about power continue to operate in women, often unconsciously and often in contradiction to their profes-sional training and the c6mmunal/spiritual values they espouse. They affect women's perception of themselves as leaders in com-munity and of those they elect as leaders. It is important that con- When conflict is not addressed directly, it does not go away; it just goes underground. May-June 2000 Eicbten ¯ Electing Leaders gregations give attention to these unconscious learnings as they reflect on the meaning of leadership as a call to ministry. The Ministry of Leadership in a Religious Community Leadership in a religious community is a ministry, one that facilitates and focuses the purpose and goals of the community. Often women called by their community to serve in the ministry of leadership need to put aside their current ministry--where they feel effective, secure, and significant--in 6rder to serve their con-gregation. The call of the Spirit draws such women to place their gifts and their vulnerabilities at the service of their sisters and the church, going beyond individual and sometimes even communal needs and concerns to global needs and concerns. They do this knowing that leadership is a dynamic, relational exercise of power between members and leaders, a relationship fraught with opportunities and risks. Elected leaders, in their for-mal exercise of power, are called to help members work together for the common good and achieve spiritual and ministerial ideals. The function of that leadership is defined and authorized by the. community, and is exercised through the community's governance model in a mutual obediential manner. Leadership, then, is an experience of reciprocity, of being both leader and follower. I~ asks all, especially those elected to leader-ship, to take the initiative, to see problems, and to point toward creative solutions--to give direction and to take action that moves the community towards a common goal. Leadership is relational. It is based on mutuality and respect even as the differing roles and responsibilities of the elected lead-ers and the members are recognized. Being relational begins with both leaders and members seeing the value of each person's gifts and weaknesses, seeing these as part of the communal reality of persons drawn together for mutual witness and service. Not every-one is capable of doing this. Leadership focuses on the common good, and so leaders are asked to: ¯ go beyond the perspective of the individual to the perspective of the whole; ¯ see the congregation as part of a bigger whole and to keep it from getting enclosed or focused only on surviving; ¯ bal-ance the purpose of the congregation with the good of the indi-vidual; ¯ keep the mission as the focus, going deeper into its Review for Religious meaning and reality in their charism and community life; ¯ be spiritual leaders, relating to community charism, to personal and communal spirituality, and being attentive to how the Spirit is moving the community into the future; ¯ be stewards of congre-gational resources guiding decisions relating to ministerial, finan-cial, material resources available for the accomplishment of mission; ¯ be stewards of human resources by attending to the personal and communal needs of each member; ¯ carry out corporate responsibilities, which include sponsorship, ministry engagement, administration of the congregation's properties, assets, and liabil-ities, and civil and canonical legal responsibilities; ¯ carry out canonical responsibilities (these involve community viability, mem-bership, documents, relationships with dioceses and the broader church, and convening the community for governance through the congregation's governance model). Qualities for Leade.rship in a Religious Community What does all this have to say about qualities needed for lead-ership today? Community leadership moves one into a complex set of relationships with the community (remember what was said above regarding women and "dead even" power), the church, and the public. It calls for the development and public exercise of many skills in order to carry out the functions defined and expected by community. Leadership pushes one to an awareness that encom-passes both individual and common good within the context of the broader world. Because of this, it is important to feel positive about the min-istry of leadership. It cannot be simply an obligation or a duty. If a person accepts congregational leadership, she needs to have energy and willingness for such service. This comes from a sense of personal readiness and ability for community service. It comes, too, from a personal vision and hope for the life of the congrega-tion, even as one acknowledges the limitations and pains experi-enced in the all-too-human experience of living community. The person needs to know herself as gifted and called to leadership both by community members and by her own inner spirit. This call assumes a faithful relationship to God, who challenges, guides, and sometimes pushes one in new directions. Being a leader today requires being a learner, a communicator, and a unifier. As a learner, a leader needs to be able to think, open May-June 2000 Eicbten ¯ Electing Leaders to influence, and ready to gather relevant information. As a com-municator, she needs to be adept at both listening and speaking. As a unifier, she is called to draw together the diverse gifts and talents of members, associates, and ministry partners. Leaders need to be willing to make tough decisions for the good of the whole and to base their decisions on clear principles and careful consideration. Leaders need a consultative, collabora-tive style for decisions affecting the life of the members. Because they also carry organizational and canonical responsibility and authority, they need to be able and willing to make leadership decisions affecting the good of the congregation. The leader needs to be visible and to make connections within the community and within the larger church and society. Research shows that outstanding leaders emphasize setting goals and achiev-ing them by careful planning and by building group commitment; they give less attention to the personal adjustment of members.2 Against the background of women religious thinking of their leader as "Mother" (nurturer, caretaker), this change in leadership style can be misunderstood as "not caring for the members." In every community there are members who want "a mother" who spends her time nurturing and being available to individual members. Other members want a leader that inspires vision, mobilizes energy, supports risk taking, and is engaged in church and world issues. The challenge for leaders is to know their leadership role and to address and deal effectively with members' differing expectations. Martin Heidegger says that to be human is to be called to become a "shepherd of being." Each person carries that call. The leader carries this call for herself and for the community, shep-herding her own well-being and the well-being of the community. The leader needs to know that her leadership is based on human-ity, her own and the congregatiori's. This requires knowledge of herself as a person of intellect and feeling, 6f gift and limitation, as one called but also a sinner, blessed and still in need of conver-sion. The leader is called to compassion and mercy as well as truth-telling and tough love; she needs to see the person, not just that person's deficient performance or its impact on the community's image. The leader is called to keep alive the vision of this human, blessed community of persons drawn together in personal and communal experiences as an expression of the face of God in our world. She does this by working to create an inclusive community of persons who, simultaneously gifted and vulnerable, are corn- Review for Religious mitted to mutuality and respect, to growth in holiness and faith-ful witnessing to the presence of God in our world. A leader needs to understand that leadership is an invitation to be creative through frailty. The first reality of the incarnation is the principle of limitation. We are not God. There is no such thing as a "perfect" leader, with all the gifts and skills needed. Leaders need colleagues that balance and compensate for limitations. They need community members who are willing to support, to be direct and honest, and to allow for frailty and mistakes. Leaders and members need to be comfortable with the experience of the inter-dependence of gifts and limitations. Concluding Questions Power can be a positive force in the life of a congregation-- power with and for, power that energizes and challenges, power that knows and loves the strength, gifts, and limits of all the com-munity. As women religious reflect on how power can and should benefit themselves and their communities, there are many areas for personal and communal exploration. I will put these questions in a personal mode, since that is where each person needs to start. ¯ How does what I learned as a girl about power operate in my life? ¯ What learnings from group (boys') play would be helpful in enhancing my relationships in community~ At work? ¯ How might making those learnings conscious help me relate better with oth-ers in my local community? In regional and large community gath-erings? At work? ¯ How do I view leadership before and after leaders are elected? How does that affect my communication, sup-port, and conflict patterns, both with the leaders and with other members? ¯ How does my approach to elected leaders diminish or enhance my engagement in con, gregational endeavors? ¯ How do my relationship to power and my view of leadership and its impli-cations affect my availability for service to community in the lead-ership role? Honest answers to these questions and in-depth conversation about their implications in member/leader relationships could move a community to a greater readiness to see leadership focus° ing--beyond the "nurturing mother" role--on the achievement of communal goals through careful planning and through building group commitment. It would, I believe, strengthen the interplay between member and leader and would lead to better communi- May-June 2000 Eicbten ¯ Electing Leaders cation, to a healthier dynamic among adults properly aware of their own and the organization's power, and would enhance engagement around communal goals. Notes ~ Pat Heim PhD with Susan K. Golant, Hardball for Women: Winning at the Game of Business (New York: Penguin Books, 1992). z David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Religious- Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 54, no. 3 (May-June 1993). Free and Groaning We are children of earth In birth Goslings Tapping On the shell of our next Resurrection Creaking branches wind-moved Almost into flight Not Quite Tight-bound buds breaking Flames that leap Anchored in ash Clouds thai float in th~ sky But the clouds weep Autumn leaves let loose We dance and we die Careless clowns With foolish faces Wild doves flying So in need Of footing places Riders of reckless surf Baptized in waves As for me I am a free Woman Constrained Chained ¯ At once being born And giving birth Crucified I survive Alive Alive! Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ 262 Review for Religious FRANCIS W. DANELLA I Apostolic Religious Communities in America: Moving in the Right Direction! During the thirty-five years since the Second Vatican Council, religious life has endured a trial by fire. At the beginning of a new century, a mixture of cautious optimism and open despair is often evident when religious speak about their communities' future. While numbers continue to decrease and members continue to age, one wonders if the cautious optimism is not simply denial. The perspective of history, however, would sug-gest that, while some congregations will die, others will serve well into the next millennium. Some will even flourish2 Thirty-five years after the council, some trends seem to encourage that spirit of cautious optimism. Many religious com-munities have wandered through the post-Vatican II desert, and they perceive there might be a "Promised Land." These religious communities are successfully exploring their roots and the stories and spirituality that underlie those roots. This has led to a clearer sense of identity and then to internal renewal and a clearer sense of mission. Apostolic religious communities are emphasizing mission even as they cope laboriously with the endless issues of maintenance. Beyond mission they need to address the issues of community life Francis W. Danella OSFS, clinical assistant professor of pastoral the-ology at the Catholic University of Aanerica, served recently as director of planning for his province. His address is Oblates of St. Francis de Sales; 2200 Kentmere Parkway; P.O. Box 1452; Wilmington, Delaware 19806. May-June 2000 Danella * Apostolic Religious Communities in America and vocations. After the thirty-six years of my religious life, I would prefer never to discuss community life and vocations again. But the time for reassessment on both fronts is at hand. Not to muster the strength to ask the difficult questions regarding these two issues would be to the detriment of these apostolic religious communities of ours. Below we will consider religious life before the council, the challenge of the post-Vatican II church, and the future direction of apostolic religious communities with respect to mission, commu-nity life, and vocations. The fundamental mission underlying the particular apostolates became blurred. Religious Life before the Second Vatican Council As a young man I wanted to know, love, and serve God in this world so as to be happy with him in the next. Towards this goal I sought a singular focus and complete absorption. This desire, com-bined with a predisposition toward teaching, led me to my religious community, whose pri-mary ministry is teaching. There I learned that religious life in my community is about three things: the search for God, eschatologi-cal witness, and the education of youth. Other apostolic religious congregations are similar, but their specialized ministry may be something different in the con-text of religious community. All people are called to search for God. An inner yearning to find our origin, purpose, and destiny gnaws at all of us from the time we are able to think clearly. The catechism had clear answers for the children of immigrants to this country, and their own chil-dren in turn. Religious life became the place in which persons could be devoted full-time to this quest, with fewer distractions to get in the way. Religious gave eschatological witness to a kingdom that was not of this world. While religious were building the kingdom of God on earth, they were clearly giving witness to a fullness of life beyond this one. This religious witness was evident in their lifestyle, their way of being in the world. In this context vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience made sense. The virtues of humil- Review for Religious ity, gentleness, and simplicity became ways in which God's people could experience powerfully God's presence in the persons of these devoted servants. Most religious congregations devoted themselves to a partic-ular good work. Most engaged in a ministry of education, health-care, or social work. Most often religious congregations were in service of the poor or the lower middle class. Religious life suc-cessfully educated and cared for immigrants and their children. Many in the Catholic community were able to develop their skills and intellectual gifts, thereby acquiring a better standard of living and a richer and fuller life. Catholics were now positioned to have major influence on the American culture. During the years preceding the council, religious congrega-tions were deeply absorbed in the work that they did so well. An unfortunate by-product of this successful period of religious living is that many religious congregations became identified with their work. Many perceived their charism to be education, healthcare, or social services. As the ministry of service became more intense, the fundamental mission underlying the particular apostolates became blurred. The Challenge of the Post-Vatican II Church With the advent of the Second Vatican Council, religious were challenged to renewal. The council said: "The up-to-date renewal of religious life comprises both a constant return to the sources of the whole of the Christian life and to the primitive inspiration of the institutes, and their adaptation to the changed conditions of our time.''2 The effort of religious institutes of the last thirty-five years to be faithful to this .injunction has borne much fruit. The movement forward has been a struggle. The emphasis on freedom and personal responsibility evident in the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et spes) had a profound effect on the future direction of religious life. There was a strong emphasis on each religious developing his or her gift to the fullest. This was in sharp contrast to the tradition of many religious communities, which determined the needs of the schools, hospitals, nursing homes, and so forth and then decided who would fill the need, no matter what their personal preference. This corrective from moving in lockstep to a more May-June 2000 Danella ¯ Apostolic Religious Communities in America individual way of developing one's gifts and talents was met with varying degrees of acceptance. Many religious communities resisted the more individual approach and the quest for self-fulfillment. Such resistance had disastrous consequences because it failed to recognize the legiti-macy of what was being sought. Consequently, there was no inte-gration between individual needs and community priorities, between personal growth and the common good. In this atmo-sphere, self-fulfillment became an end in itself rather than the means by which religious became all that God was calling them to be in the service of the church. At times this led to an exaggerated individualism and a misguided quest for self-fulfillment that was reinforced in American society by our strong bent toward indi-vidualism. In this period there were parallels with the best and worst of the human-potential movement. In the main, however, religious life was attempting to be faith-ful to the council's injunction to return to the primitive inspiration of the institute and to adapt to modern time. The efforts to recap-ture the spirit of the foundation have been the singularly most hopeful development in religious life since the council. This quest has led to internal renewal and a new sense of mission. There are common elements among the groups that have taken this course, a commonality that is clearly the work of the Spirit. Most groups have recaptured and reinvigorated for our time the spirit of their foundations. Many have experienced a resurgence in scholarship in their spiritual traditions. This new look at foundational texts and spiritualities is leading to an internal renewal. The search for God is once agaiia on track. With a clear sense of their origin, purpose, and destiny, religious congregations are in a better position to carry out their mission in the service of the church. Those faith-ful to the task will play a large role in shaping the future direction of the church. Ok/It The Future Direction of Religious Life Mission. A clear identity has led to internal renewal and a clear sense of mission. Apostolic religious communities are focused on living and disseminating their charism. Religious congregations that were instrumental in improving the quality of life for gener-ations of immigrants have begun to share their charisms with an educated lay faithful as they assume their expanded role in the Review for Religious church. Just as apostolic religious communities helped generations of immigrants to assume their rightful place at the table in American society, they will assist the current generation to assume their rightful place as religious leaders in our society. Religious life can help the laity to be the leaven in the world that the Second Vatican Council desired. By virtue of their baptism, the lay faithful share in the priestly, prophetic, and kingly office of Christ. Besides being faithful to the duties of their state in life, they are called, as the council points out, to work at the evangelization and sanctification of all God's people. They do this when they endeavor to have the gospel spirit permeate and improve the temporal order.3 Parish communities need to help the lay faithful to be aware of this mission and to carry it out. Religious congregations, too, can assist the lay faithful in their efforts at evangelization, sanctification, and the transformation of the temporal order. They can create forums in which lay people can come to understand their role and develop a plan of action for permeating the temporal order. Recently I participated in a symposium on the care of the dying jointly sponsored by George Washington University Medical Center and the Center to Improve Care of the Dying. Among the participants were medical doctors and other healthcare profes-sionals intently interested in how patients' spirituality affects their overall well-being. These dedicated healthcare professionals are carrying out the council's mandate to permeate the temporal order with the gospel spirit. One physician told me of her involvement with the Carmelite community, of the importance of the Carmelites in her life. Inspired by them, she has been instrumental in bring-ing courses on the spiritual dimensions of healthcare to medical students across the country. Last year I was captivated by a piece in Wilmington's Catholic newspaper on the graduation ceremony at a local private high school, the Salesianium.4 A graduating senior had spoken at some length about the influence of Salesian spirituality in his life. This was no passing comment. He detailed the teachings of De Sales that had influenced him, pointing out that he and his fellow graduates could take such teachings with them into their life ahead. This is the direct result of the school's effort to live and disseminate its charism. One physician told me of the importance of the Carmelites in her life. 267 May-June 2000 Danella ¯ Apostolic Religious Communities in America The many new forms of community life that have appeared need to be reevaluated. Apostolic religious communities need to live and disseminate their charisms for the well-being of the church. They need to share the theological and spiritual wisdom of their traditions, tra-ditions that answer the fundamental questions of origin, purpose, and destiny. They need to share the spiritual practices that guide daily living and daily choice. Apostolic religious congregations can encourage and even bring together people of similar professions and people from different walks of life to put together a plan of action that responds to the council's call to bring the gospel spirit into the temporal order. This is precisely what many apostolic communities excel in today. They need to reinforce their efforts. They need to have clear pastoral plans for the future. They need to bring even greater zeal and enthu-siasm to this vital mission. Many apostolic religious communities are effectively developing lay leadership and entering into collaborative ministry with the laity. They share with the lay faithful not only their spirituality but their mission as well. Religious communities are moving in the right direction and will greatly help a new generation of lay faithful to fulfill their complex mission in today's world. Community Life. Religious life of the future will be lived by those young men and women who currently are associates, novices, temporarily professed, and young perpetually professed. We need to listen to what they are saying to us. Some tend to be more con-servative than those of us who have reached our middle years, but this must not lead to new polarization o'r a new age of friction resulting from personality differences or other biases when there may be no substantial differences at all. My own experience suggests that the young enthusiastically embrace the efforts of congregations to revisit their spiritualities and to disseminate their charisms. This is an exciting mission. The young also seek a community life that is based on community prayer, mutual concern, hospitality, and self-sacrifice. They seek a religious community that is a genuine witness to both the "already" and the "not yet." Thirty-five years after the council, the many new forms of community life that have appeared need to be reeval-uated. For example, those who question the suitability of parish Revlew for Religious ministry for religious communities deserve a hearing. I would dis-agree, on the ground that parishes are ideal places for dissemi-nating the charism and helping the lay faithful to become the leaven in the world, but I would agree that we need to reassess the ways in which parish community life is lived. We need to hear the wisdom of all the members in order to make good, Spirit-filled decisions. Hearing all sides of issues can lead to a rich response. Also, we must examine the vitality of our eschatological witness if the choice for poverty, chastity, and obedience is to continue to make sense. We owe this to one another, to ourselves, and to those we will invite to join us. Vocations. What are we to do about the shortage of vocations? I remain convinced that the best advertisement for religious life is faithful, enthusiastic religious charged by their clear sense of pur-pose and mission. We need to be especially attentive to women and men in their twenties and thirties who have not made a per-manent commitment and who know in their hearts that there is more to life than what they are currently experiencing. Men and women of every age have been attracted to religious communities that have a clear purpose and mission and a healthy community life. Today as in the past the young and not so young will be attracted by religious who clearly put the welfare of others ahead of their own. We must not turn our vocation offices into maintenance oper-ations focused on numbers and survival. Vocation directors need to touch all potential candidates with the spirit of the institute, whether their final decision is to enter or not. A faithful, enthusi-astic commitment to mission will captivate the minds and hearts of those inspired by the Holy Spirit to look into this form of life. Furthermore, beyond traditignal vocations, we need to rec-ognize and affirm the enormous asset that lay associates are to our congregations. These women and men share not only in our spir-ituality but also in our mission. Influenced by the enriching guid-ance of the traditions embodied in apostolic religious communities, they make a unique contribution to the church. Religious life exists in the service of the church, whose future is assured by Christ in the gospel. And so with courage, hope, and determination and most especially with faith, we can march con-fidently into this millennium. We walk with our God, who began the good work in us and who will bring it to fulfillment. May-June 2000 Danella ¯ Apostolic Religious Communities in America Notes ~ See Sean Sammon FMS, "The Transformation of U.S. Religious Life," in Living in the Meantime, ed. Paul J. Philibert OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1994), pp. 23-38. 2 Pofectae caritatis (Decree on the Up-to-Date Renewal of Religious Life), §2. ¯ 3Apostolicam actuositatem (Decree on the Apostolate of Lay People), §2. The Dialogue, 10 June 1999. Spring Prayer To Whoever makes hard wood of maple grow and bud, sprout green lace of leaf; to Whoever breaks open frozen ground to receive water and seed to bloom; to Whoever stirs tiny throat of wren to sing, waking sleepy human to dance; to Whomever, I send up hope-filled cry, dizzy praise, begging for the same miracle to pulse in me. Patricia G. Rourke Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Look to the Future paope John Paul tells us in Vita consecrata: "You have not only glorious history to remember and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished! Look to the future, where the Spirit is sending you in order to do ever greater things" (§110). "A great history still to be accomplished! Do ever greater things"--an affirming image and a challenging mandate, to say the least. And yet speaking about the future of religious life always runs the risk of degenerating into soothsaying, its content far removed from .reality. It would be interesting if we could somehow eavesdrop on religious at the beginning of the 1900s, and more so at midcentury, as they spoke about or even predicted religious life's future. Their descriptions of how religious institutes would look in the year 2000 probably assumed that our sponsored ministries would keep mul-tiplying, that the majority of our members would be in active midlife, that our next chapter might consider--"if there is a real need"--expanding our one retirement facility, that formation houses would be veritable skyscrapers with No Vacancy signs hang-ing out in front, and that vocation promoters would be requesting a year off to process the multitude of applications already received. By contrast, today's prospective vocations and our members in for-mation are sometimes stunned to learn how many entered our communities in the early and middle years of the 20th century and are surprised to learn the median age of the present members. The numbers can evoke a nod of wonderment even in those who knew of and experienced something of that earlier era. Joel Giallanza CSC has written for us a number of times. His present address is Congregation of Holy Cross; 1101 St. Edward's Drive; Austin, Texas 78704. 271 -- May-3~une 2000 Giallanza ¯ Look to the Future We have sobered enough in the past thirty years to know that the "greater things" of which Vita consecrata speaks cannot be summed up in statistical increases and demographic optimism. Nevertheless, it would be inaccurate to characterize contempo-rary religious as inactive, discouraged, cynical. Admittedly, some of this is present and operative, but in fact it always has been. Such characteristics come with the reality we call human nature. Lack of energy or enthusiasm, discouragement, cynicism or uneasiness about the future flow more from the inconsistencies and variables within our human nature than from the current situation of reli-gious life within the church. What, then, do we look to in the future? I would suggest some essential tasks. I would say we need to be ready and willing to do these tasks if religious life is to continue moving vigorously into the future. The tasks I mention are necessarily basic and general; they must be addressed from the experience of local communities and individual religious in their living of their particular institute's heritage and tradition. __ 2_72 Build and Cultivate Relationships We call ourselves sisters and brothers of Christ, of one another, of God's people, for the sake of greater sisterhood and brotherhood in the church. Vita consecrata emphasizes this relational character of religious life (see §60). Our very titles as religious have more to do with the kind of relationships that we are called to have and foster and support than with any hierarchical arrangement in the church. The task before us is to sharpen our skills for building and cultivating relationships. The witness value of doing this should not be underestimated. Religious live and work in societies and settings in which rela-tionships are expendable because individual independence has become a priority to preserve at all costs. People desire personal autonomy over all else. In response, religious must be entre-preneurs of union, cooperation, and reconciliation. We must become experts at initiating and nurturing relationships, over short and long distances, in times of blessing and burden, with sincerity and integrity. We should not underrate the transforming power of the witness we can give simply through the friendships we estab-lish among ourselves and the variety of relationships we build with and among others. That witness reflects the importance we assign Review for Religious to Jesus' mandate of love and the commitment we have to build-ing and cultivating relationships. Demonstrate the Possibility of Permanent Commitment Our way of life witnesses to the fact that permanent commit-ment is a possibility for human nature. Too often in our world, commitment is interpreted as a temporary arrangement; perma-nence is perceived to be beyond human capability. And significant decisions in life are made accordingly. Further, explicitly short-term commitments are also considered adjustable, to fit the pri-orities of one or several individuals. We see the effects of such common cultural patterns even within the church. The durability of a commitment comes to be gauged by the comprehensiveness and precision of the legal specifications that make it binding. On the other hand, legal rearrangements can be used to dissolve the commitment; forever is conveniently reinterpreted as "for as long as I am interested." By our religious profession, we claim that commitment is a matter of the heart, not legal provisions. It is the heart, the Lord's own dwelling place, that gives meaning and direction to our activ-ities in ministry and community. Commitment is rooted in and nourished by the convictions of the heart. Our life as religious often stands as a wonder to others, partly because of their fasci-nation with its components--vows, community living, types of ministry, prayer, and so forth. The more intriguing wonder, how-ever, will be simply that we choose to and profess to and do live this way forever, and thereby demonstrate the possibility and reality of permanent commitment. Show and Accompany Others along the Pathways to God There is a hunger evident among people, a growing desire to find a path toward union with God. In recent years there has been a resurgence of interest in spiritual matters of all types and tradi-tions. In response to this our task is twofold. First, we must our-selves be acquainted with some pathways to God and speak with integrity and sincerity and some fluency of our own relationship with God. Second, we must accompany others along the pathways May-June 2000 2.73- Giallanza ¯ Look to the Future of the spiritual journey. We need not be trained spiritual direc-toi's to offer basic, everyday support and encouragement, but we do need to love the Lord and be faithful to a life of personal and com-munal prayer. Otherwise our accompaniment is more theoretical than real. The pathways to God are known most clearly and surely by actually traveling along them. Only so much can be absorbed by the head. It is the heart that must be saturated with the knowl-edge of the ways to union with God. A significant part of our com-mitment in religious life as people of prayer is to know those pathways by heart. Whatever the nature of our ministry, however we encounter others in daily life and work, we as religious, as peo-ple committed to the mission and message of Jesus, must actively encourage and enthusiastically accompany others along the path-ways to God. They expect us to know the way. And we should. The pathways to God are known most clearly and surely by actually traveling along them. Notice and Take Up Emerging Apostolic Needs The needs of the mission to which our religious institutes respond are always emerging and ever endless. Even though our communities have been involved in some specific ministries for years, possibly even since our foundation, it is important to deter-mine if those ministries continue to address specific contemporary needs.' There will be undoubtedly much emo-tion surrounding such a determination. Very fine may be the line marking the difference between continuing a ministry because it responds to the current needs of God's people and continuing a min-istry because the religious involved are trained to do it and have not considered an alternative. And, because ministry has a large part in shaping our identity, people may resist any serious exploration of alternatives. In "determining the continuing relevance of particular min-istrieb, the institute's heritage and vision and values must have a guiding part. We should ask ourselves, "What would catch the apostolic attention of our'founders and foundresses today? What emerging and pressing needs would urge them to send us in response?" Admittedly, the world and the towns and countrysides in which they lived and worked were quite different places from Review for Religious those we experience today, but we must try to glimpse and describe what they would do in response to our world and church and soci-ety and culture. Such an'effort would express our fidelity to the heritage and charism that have marked our religious communities from their foundation. And that fidelity would give us a fresh vital-ity for addressing today's emerging apostolic needs. Clarify Our Heritage, Glimpse and Sketch Its Future In recent years religious institutes have spent time and energy exploring the spirituality of founders and foundresses and the her-itage they have passed on to us. Much of that was done to fulfill the church's mandate to revise constitutions and rules. It would be a mistake to think that the time and effort spent have brought the task to completion. Today religious--particularly male lay reli-gious- often express the feeling of being invisible within the church. While some of that invisibility has to do with church struc-tures, we must guard against contributing to it by any lack of famil-iarity with the unique heritages of our various institutes--especially their relevance for today and for tomorrow. That familiarity will enable us to answer two important ques-tions that touch our identity and our effectiveness in carrying on Jesus' mission. First, what contribution does my religious insti-tute make to the church today? Second, what challenges does my religious institute present to the church today? Answering such questions is no simple task, but it will be less daunting if we con-tinue to clarify our institute's heritage with a view to the future. Be Always Ready These tasks should be supplemented from the experiences of religious within the context of their own communities and min-istries. The tasks identified here can support and strengthen our continuing fidelity to this way of life in general and to our own reli-gious institute in particular. The tasks, of course, are not com-pletely new to religious. I mention them to emphasize the need for examining our present approach to them and for refining that approach as necessary for continued effectiveness. These tasks will be accomplished differently in accord with each religious institute's p~rspective on living the gospel. The common ground will be the qualities of life that energize and guide May-June 2000 275" Giallanza ¯ Look to the Future I the efforts of all religious in completing them. Our effectiveness in addressing these tasks will be determined by our attentiveness to living these qualities. To build and cultivate relationships we must be people of love. In demonstrating the possibility of permanent commitment, we proclaim that we are people of hope. Suggesting pathways to God and accompanying others along them require thfit we be people of faith. To notice and address emerging apostolic needs, we must be people of discernment. And all these qualities of life assume that we are people of prayer. Love, hope, faith, discernment, passion, and prayer lie at the very heart of our efforts to look to, prepare for, and work toward a future for religious life that is marked by integrity, credibility, and vitality. I close this brief reflection with a text from Vita con-secrata reminding us .of the sacred responsibility we bear and of the graced consequences that flow from committing ourselves anew to live our consecrated life: "Be always ready, faithful to Christ, to the church, to your institute, and to the men and women of our time. In this way you will day by day be renewed in Christ. and contribute in your own unique way to the trans-figuration of the world" (§ 110). Traditional Practice Values mixed with a touch of the past, bring together rituals and habits, turning them into modern ideas. Donna Bauman Review for Religious REN]~E MIRKES Fertility Awareness and Women Religious I thoroughly agree with the Mock Turtle who advised Alice that "no wise fish would go anywhere without a porpoise.'" Whether I am undertaking a journey, a life vocation, or for that matter this composition, I ought to have my telos or end securely in mind. The goal of this essay is to offer an apologia for the practice of fertility awareness in the life of a consecrated woman religious. More specifically, it is a personal apology for this activ-ity and how it metamorphosed in my very doing and experiencing it. By that I mean that the program of charting the cycles of my fertility--at base a natural dis-cipline-- gradually evolved into a practice that benefited me and my commitment to my vowed life on a meta-physical or super-natural level. Beginnings I attribute the circumstances that disposed me to see a theology behind the practice of fertility awareness to two events that were simultaneously occurring in my life. In the first place, I had been tracking my ovulation and menstrual cycles for two years through a system of Ren4e Mirkes OSF is the director of the Center for NaProEthics, a division of Pope Paul vI Institute; 6901 Mercy Road; Omaha, Nebraska 68106. 277 - May-June 2000 Mirkes * Fertility Awareness and Women Religious What is the significance of "'being a body" as a man or a woman ? charting that is specific to Creighton NaProEducation Technology. While tracking fertility is most generally taught to married women as a component of a moral means of family planning, unmarried women also use it as a way of tracking their gynecological health. It was for this latter reason that I adopted the exercise. In the second place, in the same two-and-a-half years, I was immersing myself in the pope's theology of the body as prepara-tion for my work as a Catholic ethicist. One day I read something that proved to be the turning point in my practice of tracking my fertility. Pope John Paul II, explaining the complementary nature of the vocatons of Christian marriage and consecrated religious life, noted the following. Marriage and religious-life decisions presuppose "the learning and the interior acceptance of the nuptial meaning of the body, bound up with the masculinity and feminin-ity of the human person.''2 If I was correctly understanding the Holy Father, he was suggesting that, even though this kind of sexual knowledge and understanding is typi-cally associated with the decision to marry, it must also be present in those who are called to a celibate life. In other words, both married persons and celibate religious must ask the important anthropological question: What is the significance of "being a body" as a man or a woman? Furthermore, and with great import for me in my daily practice of charting, the pope went on to insist that, given this "full consciousness" of the truth of the human body, "a man or a woman who has vgluntarily chosen continence for the sake of the kingdom of heaven must daily give a living wit-ness of fidelity to that choice, heeding the direction of Christ in the Gospel" (italics mine).3 If I were to couch in Thomistic language what happened when my practice of fertility awareness intersected with these insights of John Paul, I would speak in terms of matter and form. As these two life experiences converged, the "material" aspect of my project of fertility appreciation fell into place, and it simultaneously received a new "form." I was charting my fertility every day. But, with the new light of grace that came from my studies of the pope's personalist thought, I began to see this practice in its more comprehensive Review for Religious moral and spiritual implications. The pope's insight acted as a powerful reminder to me that I must be a personal testament each new day to my vowed commitment. With this important new dimension, tracking my fertility was a personal experience whose benefits could very well far exceed those initial ones of health and bodily stewardship. Now it was also an effective tool that brought me into direc~ contact with the meaning of my vowed life, particularly the meaning of the total way I had vowed myself to love Jesus and the members of his body. The earthy, biology-based practice of fertility awareness became, from this point forward, a direct contact with the essential meaning of my vowed life, particularly the meaning of my vow of chastity. Tracking my fertility and my gynecological health could be an integral component of a daily "living witness" to my decision to become a bride of Christ forever. Health Benefits The cumulative information from the practice of tracking fer-tility on a regular basis gives a woman a picture of what her cycles look like when they are normal. Against this yardstick she can more readily notice indications of physiological change that it would be good for her to be aware of. The following are some of the gynecological conditions that are not healthy and to which the practice of charting cycles might alert a woman in the future.4 First, PMS (premenstrual syndrome) will frequently manifest itself in the charting with biological markers that signal hormonal deficiencies. These include a limited mucus cycle, premenstrual brown bleeding, or a short post-peak phase, all of which are abnor-mal cyclic developments. A religious sister might suspect she is experiencing PMS because she struggles with the classic psy-chophysical symptoms seven to nine days before her menses (bloat-ing, fatigue, irritability, depression, breast tenderness, carbohydrate craving, weight gain, headaches, and insomnia) and because of what she sees on her chart. The hope is that, having evidence from both her charts and her lived experience, she can get medical help early before this condition escalates into a debilitating psychoso-matic condition,s Second, endometriosis can be detected in abnormal symptoms that the woman religious and her instructor-practitioner may notice, perhaps from the very beginning of her charting process. May-June 2000 Mirkes ¯ Fertility Awareness and Wo~nen Religious [ I must be a personal testament each new day to my vowed commitment. These signs include the presence of premenstrual and postmen-strual spotting, a limited mucus cycle, and a short post-peak phase, all conditions that deviate from the defining parameters of a nor-mal cycle. At the identification of these symptoms, the sister could be referred to a physician and thereafter take a proactive kind of stewardship over her gynecological health. Third, one of the early warning signs of endometrial cancer is abnormal bleeding. Women who do not chart could easily miss this sign or dismiss it as insignificant. That will not happen with the sister who is charting, since she has been instructed to note on her chart any bleed-ing that is abnormal in either its timing or its color. Needless to say, the earlier one detects this type of cancer, the better.6 Fourth, it stands to reason that there are proportionately as many celibate women as there are married women in the general population who experience such conditions as irregular cycles, irregular bleeding, or dysmenorrhea. These sisters should know that there are physicians trained by the Pope Paul vI Institute who prescribe cooperative hormone replacement therapy (HCG or pro-gesterone) that often alleviates these conditions.7 And, good news, these situations can be treated without recourse to a medical reg-imen that introduces the abnormal, artificial chemical environ-ment of the oral contraceptive into the woman's body. Fifth, cervicitis, inflammation of the cervix, is another condi-tion that can be diagnosed early with the knowledge that comes from charting one's cycle. Again, the early detection of this disease will give the woman a running start in its medical management. There are two specific criteria for the identification of cervicitis. One is the presence of sticky, tacky, or gummy mucus in the woman's early pre-peak phase. The timing of this type of mucus is abnormal because in go6d health the woman observes it only dur-ing her peak time of fertility, in and around ovulation. The other is the presence of sticky, tacky, stretchy, or gummy mucus in the post-peak phase; it may also be yellow in color. This type of mucus could signal a health problem by reason of the abnormal time of its appearance. Sixth, a woman can identii:y the problem of a luteal ovarian cyst when, besides the experience of pain in her side, the post- Review for Religious peak phase.of her cycle is longer than normal. Clinical research at the Pope Paul VI Institute shows that these tumors will often shrink and disappear when they are managed nonsurgically through coop-erative hormone replacement therapy, particularly, progesterone therapy. Finally, as a woman religious approaches menopause, chart-ing will also help her identify certain pre- and peri-menopausal conditions that need to be carefully monitored. For example, she might observe long ptt ~ods of peak-type mucus that could involve critical adverse effects on gynecological health because it would mean a prolonged estrogemc stimulation of the uterus. Unchecked, this unhealthy situation cou'd lead to a precancer-ous uterine condition. In the case of irregular cycles (another perimenopausal symptom), it is good for a sister to be noting it on her chart and discussing it with her practitioner and physician. Most of the time the woman religious will be assured that this irregularity can be expected in perimenopause and need not be a problem or a concern to her. It is, however, only in a fertility awareness program of regular observation of cervical mucus that the precancerous condition or worrisome pre- and peri-menopausal conditions can be carefully identified and monitored in their very earliest appearance. Moral and Personal Benefits I consider the intersection of human and divine realities in fertility awareness to be yet another example of our human nature's inherent capacity for God. The development of a theology from what is a natural (and, for some, perhaps a pedantic) exercise pro-vides yet another "window" onto what I believe is the basic rela-tion between God and human persons. Human nature, including my human sexuality and fertility, is open to receiving a transfor-mative meaning from the side of the supernatural. Things human, including my fertility, although they are decidedly of an unstable, transitory, and mixed character, have an obediential potency for stable, lasting, and pure supernatural realities. It is my conviction that, if we women religious peer through the window provided by the experience of fertility appreciation, we will have a view of how the supernatural life of God confers on human nature, including human fertility, the very completion toward which it tends. What we will see is that to be fully human May-June 2000 Mirkes ¯ Fertility Awareness and Women Religious in the existential, historical living out of the meaning and the truth of our human sexuality and fertility is to live a life of grace. Bear with me as I repeat something I have already mentioned. That I would be so bold as to speak in terms of a theology of a prac-tice that is at base natural is testimony to the reciprocally inte-grative way that nature and grace function in our lives as persons who are at once physical and spiritual. I experience the practice of (racking my fertility, now trans-formed by grace, as an ever renewing reminder that, in the essen-tial nature of my sexuality, God has created me to be a gift. The reality slowly begins to sink in: Human beings, myself included, are the only creatures on earth that God created for their own sakes, and I find myself by making a gift of myself (see Gaudium et spes, §24). I hav~ my origin in the love of my parents and in the person of God, who is love. In this context should I, could I, doubt that the deepest meaning of who I am is that of a person who exists ~r another? The truth to which fertility awareness points is the mys-terious paradox summed up in Simone Weil's thought, "We only possess what we renounce." And that renunciation applies even to my very sell In short, I will find myself only when I give myself away. Keep ifi mind that the supernatural "form" of the practice of tracking fertility not only brings the process itself to its fullest meaning, but als'o helps the one who uses the method to more precisely understand the ethos of her personal being. No longer is charting only a way of tracking gynecological health and coming to fertility appreciation on a biological level. It is a growth-inducing encounter between a woman religious who practices fertility awareness and the wisdom exemplified in John Paul II's theology of the body. A consecrated woman religions who genuinely gives herself to others in community and receives oth-ers as gift experiences the opposite of a lust that uses rather than loves the other. Instinctively such a woman religious will want to curb any spirit of competition between herself and other persons-- within or outside of her comm

Issue 30.1 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, 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; 6X2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Lonis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Bnildlng; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW vor¢ RELtOtOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIOIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Bonlevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JANUARY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUN, I BER I REVIEW FOR Volume 30 1971 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE P.O. Box 1110 Duluth, Minnesota 55802 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, 8.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI - GIOUS is indexed in the Catho-lic Periodical Index and in Book Review Index. Microfilm edi-tion of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms; Ann Arbor, Michi-gan 48106, RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. The Experience of Crisis Since the conclusion of Vatican II a state of crisis in the Church and the religious life has produced a similar state in the lives of many religious. Values and goals, formerly held "as sacrosanct and essential, have been called into question and, in some cases, abandoned. Ways of living, traditional to an order or congregation for centuries, have been replaced. Members, once thought to be as settled in their vocations as the proverbial Rock of Gibraltar, have departed. Changes requested by the Vatican Council as necessary for renewal have sometimes failed to come about or have taken place with soul-jarring suddenness. There exists a seeming incompatibility between the old and the new, the young and the old. As a consequence, it is not surprising that a number of priests and nuns find themselves unable to face squarely what is taking place and then to make the necessary adjustments in their own way of thinking and acting to allow them to live com-fortably and productively in the religious life as it exists today. They have reached a point in their lives that can best be described as a crisis. The state of crisis is an immediate but transitory life episode in which the individual is taxed beyond his adaptive powers, resulting in an intense, distressing psy-chological experience.1 It is a period when a person is exposed to threats and demands at or near the limits of his coping resources? In his own mind, he frequently feels that he is asked to do the impossible. Under normal conditions, he would make use of his usual repertoire of coping devices; in the crisis situation, these prove ineffec-tive. 3 He sees no solution; he begins to panic and soon finds himself experiencing such psychiatric symptoms as severe anxiety, depression, and mental confusion. He feels 1 R. S. Lazarus, Psychological Stress and the Coping Process (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966), p. 2. -" K. S. Miller and I. Iscoe, "The Concept of Crisis: Current Status and Mental Health Implications," Human Organization, v. 22 (1963), pp. 195-201. s Gerald Caplan, Principles o[ Preventive Psychiatry (New York: Basic Books, 1964). 4- 4- 4- Richard P. Vaughan, S.J., is the provincial for education of the California Prov-ince; P.O. Box 519; Los Gatos, Califor-nia 95030. VOLUME :}0, 1971 helpless in the face of what appears to be an insoluble problem.4 Reacting to Stressful Situations No two people respond to an anxiety-provoking situa-tion in exactly the same way. One religious accepts drastic changes in his rule and way of living with apparent equanimity; a second is obviously shaken but collects his resources and copes with the situation while a third lapses into a state of incapacitating panic. The factors account-ing for this difference are threefold: (1) the structure of personality; (2) the nature of the environmental stress or stresses; and (3) the state of one's faith. The proportion that each of these factors contributes to the experience of crisis varies from individual to individual. As a consequence of inherited endowment, the ef-ficacy with which the developmental tasks of the various stages of life were accomplished, environmental circum-stances, and one's own deliberate choices, each one of us develops a unique personality. Some have strong per-sonalities; others, weak; most of us fall at one of the innumerable gradations between these two poles. The well-balanced religious is the one who is usually happy, contented, and able to meet at least adequately, if not well, most of the demands placed upon him. The neurotic religious is the one who lacks contentment, is dissatisfied, and unable to withstand the usual stresses of religious life. When he is confronted with the unrest and uncer-tainty ,so prevalent in communities today, he literally " "falls apart." He does not have the inner strength to face issues vitally affecting his life. We all have neurotic traits or tendencies. Some have more than others. The more of these traits, the more difficult it is to cope with stressful situations. The nature of a particular neurotic mechanism also limits adaptabil-ity. It should be noted that one need not be severely neurotic to undergo a crisis. The seemingly healthy reli-gious with several neurotic tendencies can also reach such a state. 4- 4- 4- R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 Meaning of Environmental Stresses Environmental stresses precipitating a crisis are mani-fold. Needless to say, some situations by their very nature are more disturbing than others. For many, initiating a new form of authority in a community or abandoning the traditional horarium will be more anxiety-provoking than a modificatiofi, of the habit.or mode of dress. Of greater importance, however, is the meaning the stressful situation has for the individual. The same situation can 4 Miller and Iscoc, Concept of Crisis, pp. 195-6. affect two people in quite different ways.~ For one it can be a motivating factor to participate in bringing about renewal whereas for the other it becomes a debilitating crisis. In the latter case, the individual is overcome by feelings of frustration and helplessness. The failure of his congregation to realize the ideal attacks his own ide-alism, something close to the core of his personality.6 Often such a person is lacking sufficient, security to allow him to live patiently under existing conditions, trusting in the benevolence and wisdom of the Holy Spirit. A feeling of hopelessness coupled with depression takes over and he sees no alternative but to abandon his commit-ment. The perception of these two individuals (lifter radically. The security and inner strength of the one per-mits him to see the congregation's assets as well as its limitations while the insecurity and weakness of the other causes him to look at only the natural limitations. It should be noted, however, that not all deciding to withdraw from the religious life are doing so because of insecurity and personality weakness. Reasons for such a decision are numerous and complex. Each case should be evaluated on an individual basis. Unfortunately some studies on departures from the priesthood and religious life tend to overgeneralize, thus producing dubious re-suhs. Faith Faith is a third factor influencing one's reaction to a stressful situation. If what a person believes has deep per-sonal meaning and has been integrated into his personal-ity, anything considered an attack on this belief will often be looked upon as an attack on himself. It is for this reason that some react with violent opposition when traditional doctrines and practices .are called into ques-tion. An inability to settle such questioning in a per-sonally satisfying way can result in a crisis. On the other hand, if an individual's faith in God and the Church is weak, he finds it relatively easy to abandon it. Recent events in the Church and in religious life are not likely to precipitate a crisis, since he has few emotional attach-ments to either. Cons'equences of Crisis The experience of crisis affects many areas of function-ing, the most pressing of which deal with emotional well-being. A common reaction, as we have stated, is a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness leading to depression,z + 4- Lazarus, Psychological Stress, p. 56. Ibid., p. 6. Miller and Iscoe, Concept o] Crisis, p. 196. VOLUME 30, 1971 5 ÷ ÷ I{. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 As the crisis . h~ightens, anxiety increases, producing greater inactivity.8 An inability to meet the demands of a situation and to arrive at needed decisions results in a desire to escape. Many under severe stress experience an urge to run away; where makes no difference just as long as they can distance themselves from the threatening en-vironment. The major drawback of giving way to such an urge is that the crisis is internal and often continues in the new environment. The person in crisis also finds that he becomes disor-ganized in his work.'a Whereas previously he was able to handle his assignments with proficiency and competence, he now discovers that he is unable to concentrate and that he makes numerous mistakes. He can no longer force himself to prepare his classes or sometimes even to enter the classroom. His inability to take hold of himself and regain his former efficiency only increases his sense of hopelessness. Under severe stress an individual's perception of a situation and its ramifications is limited.10 He tends to concentrate on a small, sometimes unimportant portion of a situation and overlook many significant aspects. He is unable to see the true problem confronting him. For example, the religious in crisis often finds himself unable to place in proper perspective the Church and the reli-gious life as they exist today; he concentrates on one or two shortcomings appearing to him as insurmountable barriers to happiness, such as the failure of some superiors to treat subjects as persons or bishops governing from a stance of excessive legalism. He then calls into question the validity of the whole life. He lacks a balanced view and therefore is in no position to make a decision and then act on the basis of this decision. Unfortunately, a number of priests and sisters decide to abandon their commitment during a period when they are no longer open to all possible options and when they are incapable of seeing all the implications of their deci-sion. They simply feel trapped i.n a life presenting many frustrations and obstacles. They take the only apparent course open to them, when they should have been en-couraged to forego any far-reaching decisions and to wait until they can evaluate fully all the factors involved in their distressing situation. For this reason, a change in status or a leave of absence is much preferred to the finalized dispensation from the vows. It can be hoped ~ Sheldon J. Lorchin in The Encyclopedia o/Mental Health, v. 6 (New York: Franklin Watts, 1963), pp. 1975-82. "Jack R. Ewalt in Man under Stress ed. Seymour Farber (Berkeley: University o~ California, 1964), p. 39. ~0 Richard P. Vaughan, An Introduction to Religious Counseling (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1969), p. 93. that once they have distanced themselves from the stress-provoking environment and become engrossed in a differ-ent setting, emotional equilibrium will return and even-tually a decision based on reason can be reached. Helping the Religious in Crisis What can be done to help the religious in crisis? The first thing needed is an understanding listener to counter-act the feeling of isolation and helplessness. The priest or sister should be encouraged to express how he or she feels as well as some of the despondent thoughts accom-panying these feelings. Spontaneous expression estab-lishes the listener as an interested, and, hopefully, a help-ful person.11 It allows the religious to become consciously aware of his emotional state and eventually to appraise" the reasons for his anxiety, fear, and depression. Initially, there will probably be an outpouring of negativism, an-ger, and despondency. As the emotional turmoil begins to subside, a more realistic evaluation occurs. Since in the eyes of the disturbed religious everything looks so hope-less, the listener is often tempted to feel the same way. He is apt to think: "Things have gone too far, there is nothing I can do," whereas a little patience and time plus a manifestation of genuine concern can produce re-markable results. Until relative calm is reestablished, few, it any, rational decisions can be reached; hence pushing a discussion in the direction of reasons for and against taking a position is apt to be fruitless. What the religious needs most is support and reassur-ance that eventually he will return to his former state of mind.1-0 In the meantime the fact that he has someone he can trust and on whom he can lean means a great deal. Occasionally a situation demands some lesser decisions and action, something the individual is incapable of doing without reassurance and direct guidance. In gen-eral, however, the best principle is to make no far-reach-ing decisions during a period of crisis. Perhaps the greatest assistance that can be given is the advice not to decide or act until he can make a valid, reasonable deci-sion. Inactivity and withdrawing are two common symptoms accompanying a period of crisis. To counteract these, some definite form of activity commensurate with his psychological state shonld be encouraged. XYalking with another, playing a game of tennis or golf, or assisting an-other in some relatively simple office chore can all be 4- + 4- Crisis ~: Leopold Bcllak and Leonard Small, Emergency Psychotherapy and Brie] Psychotherapy (New York: Gruenc and Stratton, 1965), p. v0t.ut~E 101. a~ Ibid. 7 beneficial. Time to ruminate and brood should be elim-inated insofar as possibIe. If a religious manifests the symptoms of crisis for sev-eral months and appears unable to regain his former self, then professional assistance should be sought. It is quite probable that a neurotic condition is blocking the abil-ity to cope with the environmental situation provoking the state of crisis. + + R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 GEORGE L. COULON, C.S.C., AND ROBERT J. NOGOSEK, C.S.C; Religious Vows as Commitment In this day when so many religious are leaving their communities, a question presses on the minds of both young and old: What is the value today of perpetual vows? For religious professed already ten or twenty years this question can be very disturbing during this period of dramatic change in the life of the Church. For young religious, as they approach final vows, the problem some-times takes the form of another question: How can I make a lifelong commitment to religious life? How can I pos-sibly anticipate today what I will think and feel ten, twenty, thirty years from now, when the world, the Church, religious life, and I myself may change almost beyond recognition? Three Interpretations To enter upon this question, it should be noted that religious live the commitment of their vows in various ways, not so much perhaps from what they were taught explicitly in formation, as from what they were seeking in entering the community, and also from the types of loyalty and idealism elicited through their subsequent experiences in the community. It would seem that three distinct interpretations of this commitment are typically the following: 1. Some live out their religious life as basically a devo-tion to their institute. They identify themselves with the structures and traditions of the community and with the institutions it has built up. They take a basic pride in belonging to this particular religious institute and have devoted their energies to improving its function, prestige, and influence in society. 2. Other religious see their commitment as centered on people rather than on what is institutional. They will say they entered the religious life to find Christian George L. Cou- Ion and Robert J. Nogosek teach the-ology at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 30, 1971 9 ÷ G.L. Coulon and R. 1. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community. Their interpretation accentuates the idea of primary, face-to-face relationships. It puts its finger on an aspect of religious life that is very reall human, and true. It recognizes that the community is the soul of the institute and is what most really makes the insti-tute a coherent and stable historical reality. Despite the most radical institutional changes, it is really made up of its personnel. It sees that the community is a more important human reality than the institute with all its organized apostolates which identify the members with the institutions. 3. A third way of looking at the commitment of the religious life is that of a quest for salvation, or an at-taining of Christian perfection. In this interpretation, one entered the religious life because of the ideal of the Christian life it represented. Tbe vows were seen as a commitment to become a good religious and. to realize in oneself a deep life of prayer and a fruitful service to God's People. These, then, are three interpretations which we feel are rather frequent among religious concerning the commitment they are living out by their vows. They can be designated as (1) the institutional, (2) the communi-tarian (or personalistic), and (3) the'specifically religious interpretations of the religious vows. It is our thesis that much difficulty comes to religious because of ihese in-terpretions, for we maintain that they are all defective theologically, whether taken singly or even all together. In our opinion they simply do not express adequately what the commitment of the religious vows is supposed to be according to the gospel and the tradition of the Church. Temptations to Leave As evidence of their inadequacy, we see in each inter-pretation definite occasions leading one to abandon the vows. These interpretations of the commitment made by the vows really will not hold up satisfactorily to some rather ordinary temptations to get a canonical dispensa-tion from final vows and view the commitment as termi-nated. 1. In the case of the institutional commitment, what happens to that commitment if the religious institute changes radically in its structures and institutions? Can this any longer be called the same community we en-tered? One could then question the continuance of the commitment of the vows by arguing that their object hardly exists any longer. Everything has changed--the dress, the rule, the customs, the works. So then how can one be held in God's sight to vows made to something which has changed so much as no longer to be the same? 2. Other kinds of temptations to leave are likely to come to those committed to personal community. What if our friends have left, or we simply fail to find the warmth and virtue of true Christian community in the congregation? What if we find much truer community with friends outside? If our commitment of the vows is basically motivated by the quest for community, then if we come to feel that community is very inadequate in our own institute, we will be strongly inclined to leave and to seek fellowship where it is experienced as much more alive. 3. Even the specifically religious interpretation con-tains occasions for the temptation to leave. What if we find that we have not become good religious, that the religious form of life has not led us to an intense prayer life or a successful apostolate? What if we feel ourselves dying on the vine, where the test of years shows we have not realized in our lives the ideal we were seeking by taking vows? If this way of life has not brought us to the deep union with God we were expecting, we may be tempted to leave. A More Adequate Theology As remedy for such reasonings against perseverance, there is needed a much more adequate theological in-terpretation of the commitment of the religious vows. Such an interpretation should attempt to express as clearly and coherently as possible a Christian reflection upon religious life as it is experienced and interpreted thematically in the Church's tradition. In that tradition, at least from medieval times on, reoligious life has been considered as a special way of living the gospel. And this special way has been expressed most characteristically in the evangelical themes of poverty, celibacy, and obedi-ence. Religious profession of the three vows represented very basically a public confession of the power of the gospel at work existentially in one's life. It was also the recognition that in this special and chosen way of life there was present an effective way of growing in the perfection of charity. In terms of the human experience of this way of life, each of the vows can be seen as standing for both a nega-tive and a positive element. The negative element in-volves the renunciation of genuine human values. The positive element involves the affirmation of the trans-cendent power of the gospel and of divine love over even the highest human values. If a theology of the religious.vows is to approach ade-quacy, it must be able somehow to integrate the insights of the three common interpretations we have cited and at the same time all.eviate what might.be called their in- 4. 4- + Religious ¥ows as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 11 ÷ 4. 4. G, L. Coulon and R. J. Nogo~e~ REVIffW FOR RELIGIOUS herent temptations to non-perseverance. What we pro-pose is a dynamic interplay of the institutional, com-munitarian, and religious aspects under the dem~inds of God's grace. In this dynamic, poverty represents the re-nunciation of the institutional element as an ultimate demand and affirms the supremacy of the community element over it; celibacy represents the renunciation of the ultimate supremacy of the communitarian element and affirms the supremacy of the religious over the com-munitarian; and obedience represents the renunciation of the religious element as ultimate and affirms the abso-lute supremacy of grace and God's reign. It is the last element which completes the dynamic and is to be recog-nized as the Christian basis for religious profession along with a Christian reaffirmation of the institutional, com-munitarian, and religious quest. The Commitment of Poverty The first of the evangelical themes to consider is pov-erty. it would seem that the most obvious meaning of religious poverty is the renunciation of wealth, power, and prestige. This is not to affirm the intrinsic value of destitution or lack of material goods, but rather ex-presses a preference for the simple hnman life o~ the little people of this world over the riches, affluence, and sophistication of those considered socially important. But by religious profession we enter into a religious institute; and it should be recognized that there is built into every institution, even those professing poverty, a strong tend-ency toward the acquisition of the precise human values renounced by poverty, namely, of wealth, power, and prestige. Consequently, in the spirit of evangelical pov-erty, there is frequent need for the religious institute to be pruned of its power, wealth, and prestige. Sometimes this pruning is actively undertaken by reforming and zealous leadership from within the institute. But more often it is done by forces from without, whether they be persecuting enemies or simply the changing situa-tion which undercuts the prestige and influence that an institute and its members previously had. In other words, the attitude of religious poverty involves not only the personal striving for a simple and humble life because it is evangelical, but also the willingness o~ the institute and its members to accept radical changes in the institute itself. This is probably the most deeply purifying aspect of religious poverty today, for even institutes which ap-pear to be affluent may actually be in serious jeopardy regarding their very existence. If the readiness to renounce the institutional fixity and security of religious life is the negative aspect of poverty, its positive aspect is the affirmation of community and of the supremacy of community over institute. Stated sim-ply, this means that people and human relations are more important than efficiency and order. It is the recog-nition that the friendship and love of its members are a deeper and more stabilizing reality than the institute's more public, organizational strength and cohesiveness. The spirit of poverty recognizes that human beings, feelings, and personal relationships are very often more important than reason and structural orderliness. This positive aspect of poverty is merely a specialized mode of Christian charity and an effective way of growing in it. It might be summed up in Paul's admonition: "Bear one another's burdens and thus fulfill the law of Christ" (Gal 6:2). The sharing of common life is not just a sharing of board and material goods. It is more deeply a sharing of humanness, of cares and ~anxieties, joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, actuated through love. Such is the very deep human reality affirmed by evangeli-cal poverty. When poverty is interpreted in the Biblical sense of God's special love for the little people who are often crushed by oppressive power structures, then it becomes a theme readily understood and appreciated by many of the rising generation today. Furthermore, the sharing of both material possessions and personal burdens as cor-porate affirmations of evangelical poverty responds to ideals meaningful and attractive today, even though ad-mittedly very difficuh to realize in actual practice. In any case, looking at poverty in this way does provide a remedy to the temptation of leaving the religious life ¯ because of radical institutional changes. Actually, the insecurity occasioned by such changes give the religious an opportunity to live out his profession of poverty more deeply in its renouncement of worldly security and .prestige, and also in its affirmation that people are more ~mportant than structures and things. According to the spirit of the poor Christ, the future is made secure not by possessions or good administration, but directly by reliance on the love and care of divine providence. Moreover, all laws and organizations are to be judged not on their merits as customs and tradition, but rather as service to real needs of real people. There were hardly any religious traditions as sacred to Israel as those regu-lating the Sabbath, yet Jesus pointedly declared: "The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath" (Mk 2:27). The Commitment of Celibacy Celibacy is the renunciation of the intimacy of mar-riage and married love. It is the giving up of the kind of companionship and fulfilhnent specifically found in 4- 4- 4- Reli~iou~ as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 ]3 + + + G. L. Coulon and R. J. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 marriage and family life. Certainly this is the sacrifice of very great human values, and snch a renunciation is bound to leave a certain hole or void in our lives and be very keenly felt in hours of loneliness and frustration. Coukl it not be that in the intense desire for "com-mnnity" spoken of so much today among religious there is something of the yearning for the kind of personal shar-ing normally found in marriage and blood relationships? This would not mean to condemn such a normal and instinctive yearning, and community life should strive as best it can to create an atmosphere of home. But never-theless celibacy does renounce family and marriage. The readiness to leave father, mother, husband, wife, sister, brother for the sake of following Christ is the affirma-tion of the relative value even of these most wonderfnl human realities of intimacy and fellowship in marriage and family life. This means that ~ust as poverty is the rennnciation and relativization of the institutional to affirm the su-premacy of the community, so in turn celibacy is tl~e renunciation and relativization of the community ele-ment to affirm the supremacy of the strictly religious. Now of all the features of religious life today, perhaps celibacy is the hardest for Western secularized man to appreciate, since in modern philosophies the sharing of persons characteristic of marriage has become a strong contender for the place of absolute value in human life. To renounce this particular value out of love for the un-seen Lord readily appears to many of our age as dehu-manizing folly. Of course, the argument that celibacy makes one more available for service to people contin-ues to give it some humanistic value; but in accordance with the gospel its motivation is supposed to be a direct, loving companionship with Christ. What is affirmed is love of Christ, direct union with Him in friendship; and the service of His people is to be an overflow and witness of this love, wherein we share in His own mission and love those (lear to Him with His own love. Celibacy thus affirms that personal union with Christ is a religions value so great and appealing to the hnman heart that we will sacrifice for it even the great human values of conjugal and family intimacy. That such re-nouncement of human community con/d result in full-ness rather than emptiness of heart will always remain a paradox and mystery. Bnt to know the risen Lord in friendship is already a beginning of His final Appeariug and thus represents a concrete anticipation already in this life of the riches of the eschatological kingdom of God. It implies a divine gift of living out an eschatologi-cal love where fellowship with others is based on sharing in the direct and intimate fellowship with the Lord, such that one finds union with the hearts of one's fellow hu-man beings fundamentally through one's personal union with God. This should mean, then, that the absence of human community should be no argument to abandon the vows to seek it elsewhere, for one's religious calling is to share Christ's mission of bringing the dead to life and building up the kingdom of love. The calling to renunciation of marriage is in the very confirming of a union with Christ and His own mission of redeeming man through reconciliation and building fellowship. The vocation is to love with Christ's freedom, to decide to be available as a grace to others for their sake, and the source of tiffs is the direct; personal friehdship with Christ. The mission is to bring about the fellowship of Christ-in-us, and the grace to do this comes through the religious union with Christ as beloved. Those who seek only the achieved fel-lowship want the kingdom without sharing Christ's effort to build the kingdom. They want the risen glory without sharing the way of suffering and self-crucifixion, which ac-cording to God's mysterious plan is necessary to its full realization. The Commitment of Obedience Often religious obedience has been presented as an attitnde of snbmission to legitimate superiors. Certainly obedience as compliance with authority is a necessary part of any ordered society; without it chaos is just around the corner. Obedience in this very human sense is one aspect of religious obedience. But the Biblical theme of obedience to God's reign is much more com-prehensive than simply submission to religious author-ity. It is not first of all a passive submission, but rather an active acceptance and a willing of the will of God, somehow found in every person we meet, in every place we live, and in every decision we and others have made that has affected our lives. Even in every failure to at-tain our aspirations the reign of God somehow triumphs. In other words, when we speak of religious obedience in the spirit of Jesus, we refer to the attitude of full ac-ceptance of God calling us to a personal destiny in and through the very stuff of our lives, including the people, events, failings, and attainments that make up our his-tory and our very self. The theme of evangelical obedi-ence is intimately tied np with the divine mystery of vocation and the human mystery of self-acceptance. It recognizes that in Christ the reign of God is present and at hand over our lives. In our acceptance that God's will is being revealed in and through our lives, we are also being led to that full and active self-acceptance which somehow enables us to come to grips with our-÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Vows as Commitment 4. 4. 4. G. L. Coulon and R. ~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 selves anti find a deep, inner peace throngh accepting and loving ourselves just as we are. Evangelical obedience is evidenced by tl~e saying of lesus that His food is to do the will of the Father (see ~n 4:34). He is sent fromthe Father to fulfill a destiny pre-establisbed by God's choice. As sons in the Son, we too are to acknowledge that we are chosen in Christ, that from all eternity our lives have been uniquely pre-ordained in terms of following Christ and sharing in His destiny (see Eph 1:3-7). We are called into His Church to bear fruit through living by His word and building up the kingdom of God on pathways .already prepared for us by providence (see Eph 2:10; Pb 2:13). We are to live in response to the calling and destiny chosen by the Father. Tiffs means living out of a fundamental decision of submitting to God's will over onr lives, whatever it is, even if it means accepting a chalice of suffering. The vow of obedience concretizes this fundamental submission to God's reign over us by our acknowledging a calling to the religious life as God's will for our life. Taken publicly and accepted by Christ's Church in an official capacity, the vow by its very nature implicitly includes the other two vows as a covenant of religious life. The obedience vowed is a faithfulness to the reli-gious life in this community made out of response to the will of God over onr life. Once made and accepted in Christ's Chnrch, the pnblic vows remain as a perma-nent sign of divine vocation and our human acceptance. Such a recognition of God's reign signifies that it is not we who have first loved God, but God who has first loved us. It is not we who are to determine what is to be our fnlfilhnent, but God's will determines what we are to be. We enter the religious life not because it is our own best way to God as attainment of deep prayerful-ness and the fullness of Christian virtue, but rather simply because the religious life is God's will for us. To put this in the terminology we have used for the other vows, religious obedience is the renunciation and rela-tivization of the highest religious values and the affirma-tion of the supremacy of God's reign of love over every-thing else. It affirms that God's choice over us is the su-preme valne. We have become vowed to the religious life nltimately not because it is our best way to be saved, or even to exercise Christian service, but rather because God has chosen us thus to bear witness in the Body of Christ. Its basis is not that religions life is best for ns, or most appealing, but rather that we are meant to be reli-gious. This we bare affirmed by public vows in the Church, and made a personal covenant with God calling upon Him to accept this kind of offering of our whole life given as response to His will for us. This, then, provides a thorough r~medy to the tempta-tion of relinquishing the religious life should it seem that we are not being thereby fulfilled as Christians. The event of our public covenant of vows remains a perma-nent indication of our vocation and our self-acceptance under God's plan. Should this be doubted as a sign of God's will, where are we to find a surer sign? What cri-terion could be presented by providence as dissolving the terms of the covenant already made and accepted through Christ's Church? That we are not good religious is no argument for leaving, since this points out our own un-faithfulness to the covenant and its recogriition is a sign that grace would lead us to repentance. That our prayer life be dried up or our apostolic efforts unfruitful and frustrated is no sign against continuing our covenant, for we have already acknowledged that the supreme value is not our own will or our own way to God, but rather that God wills us to be religious. His love is to be su-preme, even over the highest values of what we consider our own religious fulfillment. The aspect of obeying religious authority readily fits into this framework of obedience to God's will as destin-ing us to the religious life. Included in our response to that will is faithfulness to the duties of being a religious called along with others to form an evangelical and apo-stolic community. The obedience committed means a dedication to the common good of the community, re-sponsible for serving God's people. This common good is spelled out in many details by the legislation and govern-ing officials of the community. Thus, a docility and re-sponsibility to the assignments and direction of superiors fits into the context of obeying God's will that we be dedicated to our calling as religious. Even the absence of such leadership and management leaves us with our basic responsibility to the common good of community and apostolate. Conclusion We have tried to demonstrate theologically that mak-ing final vows is of its very nature an irrevocable event in our lives. It is a life decision involving a commitment until death, because through this particular institute, through this particular community of persons, and through this acknowledgement of God's reign over our destiny, we have made a covenant with God concerning what we are called to be in Christ's Body. Our perse-verance in the vows comes down to faithfulness and trust. The faitlffulness acknowledges the self-perception of the basic meaning of our life, of what onr life calling is ac-cording to God's design. The trust acknowledges that God has accepted our life-offering under the terms of the + ÷ ÷ Religious Vows as Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 vows. Our fundamental Christian witness will always re-main not our own virtue, but rather the acceptance of the Father's will, even should this mean our own weak-ness rather than strength, loneliness rather than human fellowship, and agony rather than the joy of success in our aspirations. + + + G. L. Coulon and R. ]. Nogosek REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 SISTER JUDITH ANN WICK Identity and Commitment of Youn9 Sisters in a Religious Community Abstract: Weak ego identity and hesitancy of commitment are characteristics of contemporary society which are manifest in all institutions, including the religious institution. This study of young sisters with temporary commitments to a re-ligious community of women investigates the function of role models in the attainment of religious role identity, as well as the goal and duration of commitment. The data indicate that role models are influential in the identity formation of these young sisters, that the goal of commitment is ideological rather than organizational, and that opinion is evenly divided on the issue of permanent versus temporary commitment. The past ten years, characterized by rapid social change, have demanded from individuals and institutions a degree of self-examination and adaptation not called for in previous decades. To survive in contemporary so-ciety, institutions and individuals must search for and question their purpose and identity. This climate is per-vasive; it has penetrated what were formerly regarded as the "secnre" places in society where one was assured o[ identity and purpose. This paper illustrates the perva-siveness of social change, showing how change in secular society, coupled with change in the Catholic Church has converged to create problems of identity and institutional loyalty for young members in a religious com~nunity of women. Change in Secular Society Contemporary America's society makes it difficult for an individual to achieve a strong ego identity. Erikson defines ego identity as a unity of personality, felt by the individual and recognized by others, having consistency in time, and being an "irreversible historical fact" (1960: 11). Several factors in a technological society mili- Sister Judith Ann is a member o[ the sociology depart-ment o[ Briar Cliff College; ~03 Re-becca Street; Sioux City, Iowa ~1104. VOLUME 30, 1971 19 + 4. + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O tate against this unity, consistency, and historical conti-nuity. Keniston enumerates these factors in the following manner: "Rapid and chronic social change, fragmenta-tion and specialization of tasks, decline of traditional 'gemeinschaft' communities, discontinuity between a warm, dependent childhood and a cold, independent adult world, theabsence of a utopian, positive myth for society, and the predominance of the rational in a 'tech-nological ego' " (1960). Ego identity is achieved by a complex interaction of factors, one of the most important being the observation of others acting out the role one hopes to fulfill himself someday. Observation of role models is difficult also. Age and sex roles are less clearly defined today than they were formerly, in part because the adult models which young persons have to follow are often inadequate for one who mnst find his place in a technological society: The young, who have outlived the social definitions of child-hood and are not yet fully located in the world of adult com-mitments and roles, are most immediately torn between the pulls of the past and the future. Reared by elders who were formed in a previous version of the society, and anticipating a life in a still different society, they must somehow choose be-tween competing versions of the past and future (Erikson, 1963: 169). As adult models become less influential in establishing norms for the decisions of the young, the range of choices involved in the decision-making process expands. Para-doxically, as the chances for a secure ego identity have decreased, the freedom [or independent decision-making has increased. Other factors in addition to the disappear-ance of adult role models have contributed to this free-dom. Career opportunities have multiplied with advanc-ing technology, and the number of careers open to women has increased. These factors have combined to create a situation in which the young person searching for his basic ego identity is confronted with a wide range of possibilities and practically unlimited freedom to choose. The decreasing influence of role models and the in-crease in freedom of choice are accompanied by a reluct-ance on the part of young people to ratify adult values. This expresses itself in a detachment and lack of enthusi-asm which restrains them from "going overboard" and so helps to avoid a damaging commitment to a false life style or goal (Erikson, 196~; 169). Erikson calls this hesi-tancy and period of delay in commitment "role morato-rium." One delays accepting certain values and in the intervening time "tests the rock-bottom" of these values (1963: 11). Change in the Catholic Church Weak ego identity and the accompanying independ-ence of choice and hesitancy of commitment are results of changes which have ramifications in the sacred as well as the secular realm. The religious realm formerly was the haven of security where an individual could be certain of finding out who he was and where he was going. The Catholic Church, characterized by an unchangeableness which held it aloof from the turmoil of secular society, was the prime example of an institution that still pro-vided the perplexed individual with answers to his ques-tions. The religious subculture was well-defined, stable, confidence-inspiring, and secure (Emery, 1969: 41). However, the technological changes which brought about rapid social change in secular society also affected the sacred element in society. Within the Catholic Church, the Second Vatican Council which met from 1962 until 1965 was a response to the changing secular society. The Council was an attempt to reform practi.ces within the Church to make them more meaningful to contemporary man. In order to do this the strong link which the Church had. with the past was broken. The continuity of external practices which had been mistak-enly identified as essential to faith was gone, and the same insecurity and lack of identity experienced in the secular world was present in the religious realm. With its emphasis on collegiality rather than concen-tration of all authority in one individual, the Council expanded the decision-making power of individuals within the Church. Not only, then, did the individual find external, non-essential practices changed, but he found himself confronted with a range of choices and freedom in decision-making in the sacred realm of his life. What had once been stable and unchanging took on the same changeable, impermanent characteristics of the rest of society, and what had once been an unquestioning commitment to an unchangeable institution became a less certain and hesitant identification with a set of be-liefs and practices which had been accepted without test-ing their value. Change in Religious Communities The changes in secular society and in the Catholic Church have radically affected religious communities of women. Once considered the most "total" of institutions, communities have been undergoing a "de-totalization" process, brought about by the Second Vatican Council and the rapid rate of social change in the secular world. The most visible changes have been in the area of clothing and rules regarding relationships and activities ÷ + ÷ ~dentity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 21 ÷ Sister Judith A nn 22 outside of what were formerly considered the "bounda-ries" of the religious community. These changes in exter-nal characteristics, like similar changes in the Church, have broken a visible link with the past and made the identity of a religious sister less dependent upon external symbols and behavior patterns. With these changes has come an emphasis on individual responsibility and free-dom of choice, thereby altering the relationship between the individual sister and the institution of the religious community. Loyalty to the institution no lo/iger means responding to directives from those in authority since collegiality gives authority to all. Changes in the institu-tion make the permanent commitment required by the religious community appear less desirable. The hesitancy manifested in the secular world in regard to assuming a value or life style that might not be functional in the [t~ture has its counterpart in religious communities. It is not coincidental that the theology of a temporary reli-gious vocation appeared for the first time less than five years ago (Murphy, 1967; Orsy, 1969; Schleck, 1968; Smith, 1964). It is obvious that the identity of a religious sister and her commitment to the religious community are not measured by the same criteria as they were in the past. The new definitions of identity and commitment are not yet clear and are dependent upon individual characteris-tics. Given these changes within religious communities, the recruit to religious life no longer enters a stable and permanent organization with older members serving as role models. The new identity she is to assume and the institution to which she is to commit herself are as ambig-uous as her previous experiences in the secular world. Young members of a religious community still involved in the socialization process of their "formation" years have come from a secular situation in which ambiguity of identity and lack of permanence are dominant character-istics. It is to be expected that their prior experiences in this type of secular society, coupled with the changes in religious organizations, will influence their identity as religious sisters and their commitment to the organiza-tion in which they are being socialized. It is the purpose of this study to investigate the identity and commitment of this group of sisters. Ti~e strength of identity as a religious sister is measured by the influence of role mod-els, with more influence indicative of stronger identity. Commitment refers to consistent lines of activity which persist over a period of time, serve in the pursuit of a goal, and imply the rejection of certain alternative cri-teria (Becket, 1960; 33). Two of these aspects of commit-ment-- the time element and the goal pursued~are con-sidered in this study. Methodology To investigate the identit-y and commitment of young sisters, a pretest using a structured interview schedule was conducted. Twenty-five sisters, all with one-year "tempo-rary" commitments to their religious community were interviewed.1 On the basis of these responses, a question-naire was constructed which included twelve questions with alternative responses listed and one open-ended question. Five of the twelve closed-ended questions dealt with basic demographic information--age, length of time in religious life, size of home town, size of town in which presently working, and type of work engaged in. Four dealt with the decision to enter religious life--time of the decision, influential factors, and permanency of the deci-sion as viewed at the time of entrance. The other three closed-ended questions were designed to secure informa-tion about the sister's present understanding of religious life, influential factors in arriving at this understanding, and factors keeping the sister in religious life. The open-ended question dealt with the sister's attitude toward permanent commitment to religious life. The questionnaire was sent to all temporarily comnait-ted sisters who were members of a single Midwestern religious community.'-' Eighty-eight questionnaires were distributed; eighty-one were returned. Five of these were eliminated because responses were incomplete or ambigu-ous. This left seventy-six questionnaires for analysis. Description oI the Sample The mean age of the sisters responding was 23.88 years. They had been members of the religious community from four to seven years, with 5.99 years being the mean number of years as a member. Forty-four (58 per cent) of the respondents decided to join the religious community during their senior year in high school. Fifteen sisters (20 per cent) decided earlier than their senior year, and sev-enteen (22 per cent) decided later. Thirty-eight sisters (50 per cent) identified their home towns as farms; another twelve (16 per cent) indicated that the size of their home town was less than 2500. Fourteen sisters (19 per cent) joined the religious com-munity from cities with a population of greater than x After a period of eight years during which a sister makes ooe- )'ear commitments to the religious community, she is eligible to make a permanent commitment. If she does not choose to do this, she leaves the religious community. She is also fi'ee to leave at the expiration of any of the one-year commitments. ~ Selecting the sample from the same religious community allows for control of the rate of change occurring within the religious com-munity and the type of formation program used in the socialization process of the young sisters. ÷ ÷ 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 23 TABLE 1 Occupations of Young Sisters Occupation No. of Sisters % of Sisters Primary grade teacher Middle grade teacher High school teacher Student Upper grade teacher Homemaker Religious education Nurse Other Total 16 14 12 12 9 4216 76 21% 19 15 15 11 6 19 100 + 4- 4- Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50,000. The remaining eleven (15 per cent) came from towns ranging in size from 2500 to 50,000. When asked to indicate the size of the town in which they were presently working, twenty-three sisters (30 per cent) indicated towns of less than 2500; thirty-one sisters (44 per cent) indicated cities with populations of 50,000 or greater. The remaining twenty-one sisters (26 per cent) worked in towns ranging in size from 2500 to 50,000. From this data it can be said that while 66 per cent of the respondents have non-urban (population less than 2500) origins, only 30 per cent are presently working in non-urban situations. On the other hand, while only 18 per cent of the sisters have large city (greater than 50,000) origins 44 per cent work in large city situations. Table 1 shows the types of work in which the subjects were involved. Fifty-one sisters (66 per cent) were engaged in teaching, with the greatest number of these being pri-mary teachers. Identity as a Religious Sister The respondents' role identity as a religious sister was determined by measuring the inltuence of role models. In this situation role models were defined as older sisters in the same religious community as the young sisters. Two questions were included in the questionnaire to deter-mine the strength of role model influence. One question asked: "What factor would you say influenced you most in deciding to enter religious life?" The second question was: "What would you say helped you the most to arrive at your present understanding of religious life?" Alterna-tives were provided for each of the questions, with space provided for other alternatives to be added. Respondents were instructed to choose only one alternative; those re-sponses including more than one alternative were consid-ered invalid. Response to the question concerning factors influenc- TABLE 2 Factors Influencing Decision to Join Rellg[ous Life Factor % of Sisters The idea that this was something God wanted me to do The conviction that this was the best way to serve Christ A sister in a religious community My family Other Invalid Total No. oI Sisters 47 11 8 2 44 76 61O/o 14 10 36 6 I00 ing the decision to join the religious community is shown in Table 2. From these data it is evident that role models ("a sister in a religious community") were not as influen-tial as other factors, accounting for only ten per cent of the responses. Forty-seven sisters (61 per cent) indicated that joining the religious community was influenced by motivation that could be classified as "supernatural." ("This was something that God wanted me to do.") Obviously, role models were not influential in the ini-tial step of assuming identity as a religious sister. How-ever, we cannot conclude from this that they were not influential at a later time in the young sister's life. Re-sponse to the question: "What would you say helped you most to arrive at your present understanding of religious life?" indicates that role models assume a new importance after a girl has joined the religious community. Table 3 indicates that thirty-nine sisters (51 per cent) indicated that role models ("living with and observing other sis-ters") were the most influential" factor in their present understanding of religious life. From the response to these two questions, it is evident that role models are more influential in the process of TABLE 3 Factor Most Influential in Present Understanding of Religious Life Factor No. of % of Sisters Sisters Living with and observing other sisters Personal reading and reflection Religious life classes Discussions with sisters my own age Other Invalid Total 39 9553 15 76 51% 11 77 5 19 100 4- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 identity formation after the sister joins the community than they are in the process of deciding to join. If the strength of role identity as a religious sister is estimated by the influence of role models, then it can be concluded from these data that, despite changes in the definition of the role, the majority of young sisters do have strong role identity as a religious sister and that this is developed by observation of role models. Goal of Commitmen~ Becker's definition cited earlier speaks of commitment in terms of activity in pursuit of a goal. Members of a religious community agree by their act of joining that community to pursue the goal of the community within guidelines for activity established by the organization. In a sense, then, commitment to a religious community is two-fold: commitment to the goals of the community (usually ideological goals such as living the Gospel in the "spirit of the founder") and commitment to the specific means of living these goals as defined by the organization of the community (e.g., manner of living together, specific rules regarding dress and behavior). The respondents were given two opportunities on the questionnaire to indicate the object or goal of their com-mitment. One question asked: "Which factor listed below woukl you say most clearly differentiates religious life from other forms of Christian living?" Eight alternatives were given, with space to provide others. Table 4 shows the response to this question and indicates that the model response is "community living" which coukl be classified as the organizational aspect of the two-fold goal. "Service to others" could also be classified as [urthering the con-crete organizational goals and non-ideological in charac-ter. Five of the other responses--"celibacy," "visible sign," TABLE 4 Factors Differentiating Religious Life frotn Other Forms of Christian Living 4- 4- 4- Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 26 Community living Intensity of Christian living Celibacy Visible sign; public witness Emphasis on prayer and spiritual life Service to others The three vows No distinguishing feature Other Invalid Total No. of Sisters % of Sisters ~8% 12 12 11 75 29 10 10 95 3 3l2 4 51 3 6 76 100 "prayer, . Christian living," and "tile three vows"--are more ideological in emphasis and removed from the prac-tical, organizational aspect of the goal. If the responses are classified in terms of organizational or ideological e~nphasis, thirty-two sisters (43 per cent) indicated commitment to an organizational goal, while thirty-seven sisters (48 per cent) indicated commitment to ideological goals. This difference is too small to make a statement about the goal of the commitment of the re-spondents. The other qnestion which provided data concerning the goal of co~nmitment was: "What do you see as the most important factor keeping yon in relig!ous life today?" Six alternatives were given for this question with space provided to write in others. Table 5 gives the re-sponse to this question. If the responses are considered as emphasizing either the organizational or ideological as-pect of the goal, it is clear that the majority of respond-ents view the ideological goal as more important than the organizational one in keeping them in the religious com-lnunity. Forty-three (57 per cent) of the responses indicated that the force keeping the sister in religious life is the sense of commitment to a value or an ideal: "It's the right thing for me to do"; "The love of Christ"; "To prove this life has meaning." Twenty-one responses (27 per cent) indicated that tile "holding force" or goal of commitment is identified with the organization: "Faith and hope in our congregation"; "To serve others better." From the response to these two questions, it can be concluded that young sisters view the goal of commit-ment as equally ideological and organizational when they are asked to identify it in an objective type of qnestion. When the qnestion is asked in a more personally oriented manner (e.g., "What are you committed to that keeps you in religious life?"), more sisters identify the goal in ideo-logical terms than in organizational terms. With empha- TABLE 5 Factors Keeping Sisters in Religious Life Today Factor No. of Sisters % of Sisters It's the right thing for me to do The love of Christ To serve others better Faith and hope in our congregation To prove this life has meaning I don't know Other Invalid Total 19 19 14 7 57 41 76 ~5% 25 18 97 9 61 100 ÷ ÷ ÷ Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 27 sis on personal decision-making and collegiality the or-ganizational aspects of the religious community are viewed as less important. Length of Commitment Formerly, commitment to a religious community was viewed as a permarient one, preceded by several years of temporary commitment. Changes in secular society have made permanency and stability almost non-existent, and changes in the Chnrch and in religious communities have reflected this trend. If the commitment of religious per-sons was to unchanging, spiritual values, the factors mili-tating against permanent commitment would not influ-ence religious commitment. However, it has been shown that the object of commitment is twofold: ideological and organizational. Ak the defects of an imperfect, changing, and nnpredictable organization loom large, a sister soon realizes tbat to be committed to the ideological goals of tbe commnnity, she may not need to be permanently committed to its organization. Many temporary organiza-tional and public service alternatives such as Peace Corps are available (Murphy, 1967: 1083). The young sister respondents were asked abont their initial ideas of the stability of commitment to religious life. The qnestion was stated in this way: "Think back to the (lay you came to religious life. Which of the three statements listed below would you say best describes your feelings at that time?" The alternatives ranged from "giv-ing it a try" to "very sure that I'd stay forever." The response to each alternative is given in Table 6. It is evident from these data that 20 per cent of the young sisters viewed commitment to religious life as per-manent tbe (lay they joined the community. However, most of the respondents (80 per cent) indicated that at the time they joined the community there was hesitancy regarding the permanency of their commitment to the group they were joining. + + + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 28 TABLE 6 Attitude Toward Permanency of Commitment of Young Sisters before Joining the Religious Community Attitude I was going to give it a try and see if it worked I was quite sure--not positive though-- that I'd stay I was very sure that I'd stay forever Total Sisters ~7 33 16 76 % of Sisters 36% 44 20 100 The final question was an open-ended one which al-lowed the respondents to express their views on the issue of permanent versus temporary commitment to the reli-gious community. The qnestion was stated: "Some people have suggested that because of all the rapid social change occurring today that commitment to religious life should be a temporary one. How do you feel about this?" The respondents were given ample room to reply, and their opinions ranged in length from one sentence to several paragraphs. The responses to this questi6n were ranked according to agreement with permanent commitment, with four cat-egories resulting: (1) strong agreement with permanent commitment, (2) moderate agreement with permanent commitment, (3) moderate agreement with temporary commitment, and (4) strong agreement with temporary commitment. Thirty-nine of the respondents (51 per cent) strongly agreed that commitment to religious life should be per-manent. Their agreement was categorized as strong be-cause they felt that not only their own commitment, but all commitment to religious life should be permanent. These responses emphasized the necessity of permanency in order to bring security and stability to the individual and to "give witness" to the value of permanency in a world characterized by much impermanency. Typical of these responses are the following: . the rapid social change and the fact that there is so much "un-permanence" in the world today makes a permanent com-mitment all the more meaningful . It seems as though in many instances in life faithfulness is becoming less important and maybe even harder to practice. I think one of the things we religious should show others is fi-delity, keeping one's word with the Lord, as he has done for US . ¯. I feel it should be a life-long commitment. I think there's time for growth in this life that many are not allowing for in the temporary living. Especially today it takes more time to get rooted in a way of life and become persistent in our con-viction and values in that way of life . To really live religious life I think we must have a perma-nent commitment. I think it is only after we have lived a life as deeply as we can and for a length of time that we will blos-som as really selfless people (if we have taken the opportunities all around us to do this). Even though the world is rapidly changing, I think we need to show people it is possible to stick to a life decision . . I feel it is also necessary for one to make a decision and live by it. Those in other walks of life must do it. I think it makes one work harder for the final goal and makes one face up to her real purpose in this vocation . Sixteen of the respondents' opinions (20 per cent) were categorized as "moderate agreement with permanent com-mitment" since they indicate that, while the sister pre- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 29 + ÷ ÷ Si~ter $udith Ann REVIEW FOR R£LIGIOUS 30 {erred a permanent commitment for herself, she agreed that others in the religious community could make a temporary commitment. However, allowing this tempo-rary commitment was viewed as an exceptional measure, outside of the regular structure of the community, but somehow arranged so that those who made this type of commitment would be affiliated with the community. The argutnents in favor of permanent commitment are similar to those given by the respondents who strongly agreed with permanent commitment, as the examples below indicate: I think that for some people a temporary commitment is the best way for them to serve, and opportunity for this should be provided, rather than lose their valuable potential. For myself, a permanent commitment has more value. I want to give myself to something--someone--completely. A temporary commitment would just be putting off this giving of myself. I also think it is psychologically reassuring tbat a decision has been made, and now my whole effort can be put into living out that decision. I also think that people today need and want to see that Christ is important enough that someone will give his or her life to him.This is where a community of permanently com-mitted people has valne. I've thought of a temporary commitment many times. I can see some set-up like the Mormons have--giving two years of service to the church. But I can see that something more perma-nent and stable is needed. I think we have to think of more than ourselves . I think if young people want to serve the church temporarily, there are many other organizations for them. We need something more permanent and definite in this world and I think it should be religious life. I feel that if a person is truly committed to the religious life, her commitment will be a permanent one. However, because of contemporary insecurity and confusion, perhaps persons should be allowed to commit themselves for limited periods of time. I view this as a short-term measure. I feel this option should be given to some people. At the same time, I feel that for those who are able to make a perma-nent commitment this should be allowed because this is very much needed in today's society, too, as people need to witness a sign of permanency someplace. I think there is room for such a thing as a temporary com-mitment to a kind of religious living in our present, changing society. However, I do not think the place for such a commit-ment is within religious communities such as ours. It seems to me that religious life as we know it and are connnitted to is of its essence a lifetime proposition . I woukl favor the idea of something like a "sister-community" for those who wish temporary commitment, and we wonld work closely with and possibly live with these people. Eleven o¢ the sister-respondents (15 per cent) indicatetl "moderate agreement with temporary commitment." That is, while their response indicated agreement with temporary commitment, they indicated that those who desired permanent commitment ghonld be able to live in this way. This category was distinguished from the pre-vious one by its more positive view of temporary commit-ment. These respondents indicated that it should not be consklered exceptional and saw a place for it within the regular structure of the community. A strong emphasis on the individual's freedom to decide on the type of commitment was evident in these responses. In contrast to the other two categories of responses, arguments in favor of permanent commitment were not evident in this category. Typical of the responses are those listed below: I would tend to agree in part to the above statement. ! think a person can or could be committed to religious life for a number of years and then discover it wasn't for them. I also feel that there are people, many of them, who probably could and would be able to commit themselves to religious life for-ever. What I would like to see set up would be a plan whereby a person could dedicate a numher of years to the service of the church in religious life. I believe in a temporary calling or commitment to this life style--not that everyone should enter it on a temporary basis --but the option should be possible. Those that want the sta-bility of life commitment should have it; those that want this life-style for a temporary time of giving, living, growing, searching--it should be so. My first reaction to this idea was negative because it con-tradicted all that I was taught about vocation, but now I think it is a good idea. Mainly because I think this way of life gives each person who is in the least way sincere a very close and special relationship with God the Father. The op-portunities to know and to live God are very uniqne and centered. I just don't think that we can deny this relationship to anyone who desires it. Many times I think this is the reason a person enters religious life, and then maybe later they see that this type of life-style is not for them for various reasons. I believe that people should have the option of a temporary commitment. For some, this may better suit their character and personality, or their goals in life. It allows for changing in-terpretations of values. People enter religious life for different reasons, and for some, their understanding and purpose in re-ligious life might be served by a temporary commitment to it. Ten of the sisters (14 per cent) responded to the ques-tion with strong agreement toward temporary commit-merit. Like the responses in the previous category, these emphasized individual freedom of decision. In addition, they gave positive argmnents for temporary commitment. The tone of these argnments was that commitment to a changing institution cannot be permanent. This is ex-pressed clearly in the examples given below: It is most difficult for one to commit oneself to a certain institution with a permanent commitment to live out the 4- 4- 4- Identity and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 31 4. + + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life in a particular way through this institution. Most people today find themselves changing jobs as they themselves change, due to the needs around them, through conditions or events and people they have interacted with . I feel that the commitment to religious life will always be a permanent one as God speaks to the individual, but the commitment to the institution through which the individual witnesses should be a temporary one. I'm beginning to think this is a good idea. I don't think people can take the intense living that community demands for a whole lifetime. Plus today society almost demands people move about and take on new ways of serving and giving. One single endeavor no longer seems adequate. There is a great instability about living which makes any permanent commit-ment an impossible demand. Yes, I think it shonld be temporary because the way religious life is changing now you might not be able to live happily and peacefully in the new conditions. Also, in living out one's commitment in religious life, a person may come to realize that she can commit herself in a fuller way in some other walk of life. I agree with the above statement. I too feel that because of the ever-changing demands and opportunities afforded by so-ciety that one should be flexible enough to r.espond to them as one sees fit which may not necessarily he within the establish-ment or structure of .religious life. I think that commitment to Christ as manifested in a really Christian way of living is the most important factor in one's dedication. The particular life style in which this is manifested may or may not be considered essential by the sister. I think that, in one sense, a real Christian has to "hang loose" with regard to any established institutions of the world. The Christian lives in the midst of many institutions, but must re-member, as Christ did, that institutions arc made for man, not man for institutions. Then the important thing is that a person make every effort to understand reality and develop a deep, honest 3ire attitude. From here on out, the formed Christian's inspiration and intuition is more important than membership in institutions. If this means there should be no permanent commitment to religious life, then there should be none. In snmmary, these responses to the qnestion concerning the permanency of commitment indicate that young sis-ters are evenly divided on the question, with 51 per cent favoring permanent commitment for all, and 48 per cent not favoring this position, although their disagreement with it is in varying degrees. Argnments in favor of per-manent commitment point out the "witness value" of permanency in a world characterized by impermanency, indicating emphasis on the ideological aspect of the two-fold goal of a religious community. Arguments support-ing temporary commitment emphasize the organizational aspect of the goal by stressing the difficulty of permanent commitment to an organization. These same argnments TABLE 7 Lambda Values of Predictor Variables Variable Value of Lambda Attitude of sister before she joined religious commu- .19 nity toward permanency of commitment Type of work Factor keeping sister in religious community Number of years in religious community Factor differentiating religious life from other forms of Christian living Factor leading to present understanding of religious life Factor influencing decision to join the religious com-munity Time when decision to join was made Size of town in which working Size of home town Age of sister ,16 .15 .14 .12 .11 .11 .11 .11 .11 .11 indicate the desirability of maintaining religiotts belie[s otttside of an organizational situation. Predictor Variables of Attitude toward Commitment. In order to investigate the possibility of predicting atti-tude toward commitment from other variables, further ;malysis was done using the responses to the open-ended qnestion regarding perm~ment or temporary commitment as the dependent variable. These responses were dichot-omized (those favoring permanent commitment for all members and those not favoring permanent commitment for all), and contingency tables were constructed using tbe data from eleven of the questions,s On the basis of these tables, the lambda statistic (X) was c;tlculated. Lambda is designed to estimate the percent-age of reduction of error gained by predicting the de-pendent v;triable from knowledge of the independent var-iable. Table 7 lists tbe content of tbe eleven qttestions used as independent v;triables and the corresponding val-ues of lambda. From these statistics it is evident that none of the varia-bles included in the questionnaire nsed for this study could be considered strong predictor variables. The strongest variable--the attitude of ;t sister before she joined the religious cuommunity toward the permanency of her commitment--reduces the error of prediction by a The question concerning the sister's decision to join the religious community: "When would you say you first started thinking about entering religious life?" was inchtdcd in the questionnaire only to clarify the question which followed it concerning the time when the actual decision to join was made, and was not intended for analysis. ÷ ÷ + Identity and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 33 only 19 per cent. In other words, knowledge of a sister's attitude on this topic wonld reduce the "chance" of erro-neously designating her as agreeing or disagreeing with permanent commitment for all members of the commu-nity. Without knowledge of this independent variable, a 51 per cent chance exists of correctly identifying a sister as agreeing with permanent commitment. With knowl-edge of this independent variable, the chance of correct identification increases to 70 per cent. Similar interpreta-tion holds for the other values of lambda, all of which, however, are smaller. + Sister Judith Ann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34 Conclusion From the data gathered in this study, the following conchlsions can be drawn: (1) role models are influential in this group of young sisters; (2) more young sisters view the goal of commitment to the religious commnnity in ideological rather than organizational terms; (3) opinion is evenly divided on the issue of permanent versns tempo-rary commitment; and (4) none of the variables tested are outstanding in their predictive vahle regarding attitude toward commitment. While these findings do not appear to snpport tbe observations regarding cbange in secular society, the Chnrch, ~md religious commnnities, they nev-ertheless provide some basic information useful for fi~r-ther stndy in this area. For example, if none of the varia-bles tested here discriminate in regard to the attitude toward commitment, what variable is a discriminating one? Apparently neither demographic variables--size of a sister's home town, size of town in which a sister is work-ing, her age, or her type of work--nor variables concern-ing a sister's views of religious life and the factors in-fluencing these views can be considered meaningful predictor variables. Even role models, considered as fac-tors influential in the sister's present understanding of re-ligious life, and a sister's goal of commitment (ideological or organizational) do not discriminate in regard to perma-nent or temporary commitment. An area not investigated in this stndy was the family background of the sister, and previous work by Keniston (1960) indicates that certain factors in this area might provide discriminating varia-bles. REFERENCES Abrahamson, E., et al. 1958 "Social Power and Commitment: A Theoretical Statement." American Sociological Review 23 (February): 15-22. Becker, Howard S. 1960 "Notes on the Concept of Commitment." American Journal of Sociology 66 (July): 32-40. Becker, Howard and Carper, James. 1956 "The Elements of Identification with an Occupation." American Sociological Review 21 (June): 341-48. DeMilan, Sister Jean. 1965 "The Insecure Junior Sister." R~.zvIEw fOR RrZLICIOUS 24 (March): 208-220. Dignan, Sister M. Howard. 1966 "Identity and Change in Religious Life." REvi~w fOR R~LIC~OUS 23 (July): 669-77. Emery, Andree. 1969 "Experiment in Counseling Religious." REvizw vo~ RELIGIOUS 28 (January): 35-47. Erikson, Erik H. 1963 Youth: Challenge and Change. New York: Basic Books, Inc. Keniston, Kenneth. 1960 The Uncommitted: Alienated Youth in American So-ciety. New York: Dell Publishing Co. Murphy, Sister M. Cordula. 1967 "Religious Vocation: A Decision." RrwEw voa Rz- ~Ic~ous 26 (November): 1081-89. Orsy, Ladislas. 1969 "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today 40 (February): 347-49. Schleck, Charles A. 1968 "Departures from Religion." R~vi~w ro~ R~o~s 27 (July): 682-715. Smith, Herbert F. 1964 "Temporary Religious Vocation." Rrvlrw voa Rr:- ~o~oos 23 (July): 433-54. ÷ ÷ ÷ ldentity and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 WILLIAM RIBANDO, C.S.C. The Religious Community at the Catholic College William Ri-bando, C.S.C., is a faculty member of King's College; Wilkes-Barre, Penn-sylvania 18702. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 36 Like his brothers and sisters engaged in other aposto-lates, the religious who is employed in higher education in colleges or universities originally founded by members of his order faces serious problems. Drastic changes have occurred since that (lay in the distant past when fathers, sisters, or brothers were sent from the motherhouse to fonnd a Catholic college for the benefit of young men or women who would otherwise not enjoy the benefits bf a Catholic college education. Since then, many such col-leges bave experienced periods of growth which have in most cases led to a notable educational maturity as well as to certain repercussions for the religious and his com-munity. Both in fact and in law many Catholic colleges bave become alienated from the religious communities which originally founded them. This process of alienation of the religious community from the college or university has in many cases come about at the direct volition of the community which planned and implemented the legal and administrative processes necessary. In other cases an alienation in law aml in fact has come about by force of a variety of complex circumstances not necessarily under the control or to the liking of the religious community. Whatever the instigating causes, this process of alienation has brought with it many repercussions in the lives of the individual religious involved in such circumstances. This, taken with the increasing secularization in almost all areas of the life of the Catholic college, has left the reli-gious in a situation which is drastically different from that first experienced by the founders of his college. In the light of the present crisis of the Church and of the concurrent scarcity of religious vocations, it is impera- tive that religious as individuals and as communities rec-ognize the peculiar problems posed by the apostolate of religious in colleges which are in fact no longer run by their communities. This article will attempt to highlight some of these problems as they have become apparent in recent years. Viable solutions to these problems (if there be such) will come only as the result of much community soul searching and frank discussion. Recent conflicts and confrontations on the nations' campuses point to an area of possible conflict between the college or university as institution and the religious com-munity. Younger religious and priests imbued with the Vatican Council's concept of a prophetic Church are anx-ious to speak out on what they consider the grave evils affecting today's society. To remain silent in the [ace of apparent insensitivity towards the evils of war, racism, and poverty would seem an inexcusable betrayal of one's Christian conscience. For a Catholiccollege to acquiesce by its silence to these or other: "crimes against humanity" would seem in the eyes of many religious to be the height of hypocrisy. Yet often college administrators, lay or religious, find themselves by instinct or force of circumstance on the side of the "law and orddr" forces represented by the alumni or local community. The sign-carrying sister or bearded priest picketing the dean's office stands as a threat to the Catholic education past and future which the more conservative laymen or religious has known. One can easily im.agine the tensions created in a reli-gious community where both such concepts of the role of the religious are incarnated in various members. Because they operate from different concepts of what the Church is and does, the two types of religious find it difficult, if not impossible, to accept even the basic honesty and sin-cerity of the other. The religious community must play an important me-diating role in such situations or see itself split into schis-matic factions each claiming to be the one true realiza-tion of what the religions life should be. Open dialogue beginning in the religious community and branching out to all areas and aspects of the campus could go far toward fostering the creative peace necessary in a Christian col-lege community. The bells of the college chapel once loudly proclaimed to the religious that the will of God meant hastening toward the chapel for the morning or evening "exer-cises." Now the religious on campus often wishes that the will of God were spelled out for him in so clear and unambiguous a manner. Although he still has a superior, the religious finds that person or his office no longer playing the role they once did in his life. On most cam- + + ÷ Catholic College Community VOLUME 30, 1971 4. 4. 4. William Ribando REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS puses the offices of president and religious superior have been divided and given to two different persons. The religious, may well find himself consulting his reli-gious superior only on matters which are somewhat pe-ripheral to his professional life. With this fact comes the realization that most of what one is doing is not being done in direct obedience to the religious superior. No vow of obedience has been made to follow the directives of the college president, the (lean or department chair-man, the registrar or the business manager, all of whom may be laymen. Can the will of God be found in the xeroxed memos of all such campus heroes? One hesitates to answer too quickly lest officialdom's latest pronounce-ment be considered binding de fide definita. Yet if the religious is sincerely trying to find the will of God in the demands of his everyday life, he cannot too easily dismiss the directives of such persons as irrelevant to the fulfill-ment of his religious vocation. Here too the members of the religious community have something valuable to contribute to each other. A process of joint discernment and dialogue among people with like goals and aspirations can do much toward discover-ing the will of God in complex and confusing circum-stances. For example, a community discussion may enable a religious to decide whether a particular moderatorship or activity which he has been requested to take charge of will be belpfnl or detrimental to the fulfillment of his overall vocation as a Christian scholar and teacher. Too often in the past when almost every aspect of one's life was under the direct control of the president-snpe-riot, one was made to feel obliged to accept almost any assignment offered lest he be found lacking in the virtue of obedience. An institution which can now insist on the highest professional standards for all its professors and administrators, can no longer expect religious to fill in all the gaps in extracurricular activities at the expense of their own academic and professional development. Many times the religious on the contemporary campus may think of his classmates in various far off missions and wonder who is more the missionary. Altlaougb living con-ditions are no doubt better this side of the. Atlantic or Pacific, the distinction between working with "pagan" and "christian" peoples often seems quite blurred. A highly secularistic and often very hedonistic culture has had its effect on college youth to the point that one can no longer presnppose the real nnderstanding or accept-ance of traditional Christian teachings especially in the areas of personal religious observances, doctrinal beliefs, and sexual condnct. The religious who has done "dorm duty" can be hard put to discern how his students are in any way different in their mores from their counterparts on secular campuses. The creeping suspicion may nag him that he is indeed in a nonchristian missionary terri-tory minus the lions and tigers but replete with other formidable threats to life and sanity. The reactions to such a discovery can be manifold. The individual religiqus or the community as a whole can rend their garments, cry "blasphemy," and withdraw to the cloister emerging only for minimal skirmishes at class time and at graduation. This is roughly comparable to the foreign missionary who waits for the natives to come to the compound. Other religious may elect to recognize the missionary aspect of contemporary college work even if this means a good deal of pre-evangelization of the most basic type. This for many religious will entail considerable readjust- ~nent of methods in educational and pastoral approaches. Obviously no easy solution will be found to a situation so different from that prevailing even ten years ago. Yet the religious commnnity which refuses to examine itself, its methods, and its attitudes toward a changing campus scene would seem to rule itself into irrelevancy. Here too, open and frank dialogue between various segments of the religious community and between the religious commu-nity and students and lay faculty would seem an important means toward establishing the identity and role of the religious community in a campus community grown much larger than the founding congregation or order. One of the more striking differences between the Cath-olic college old and new is symbolized by the contract for religious as well as for laymen. Said document or the lack thereof serves notice to the religious that he is no longer working for the family store but rather for the large chain market which employs him simply on the basis of the contributions he can render to a particular aspect of the institution. The judgment is made on coldly objec-tive evidence with the emphasis on professional qualifica-tions. What degrees has he earned? How many articles and books has he written and how did he fare in the recent teacher evaluations? Is he accepted by his peer group of professors or administrators? This increased stress on professional standards in the Catholic college or university is no doubt yielding a nota-ble development in academic standards at the institutions involved. However, in many cases it also brings with it some less desirable effects. If a contract is to be denied, such an action may have serious repercussions on the community involved. If the administrators involved are religious, they may be accused of allowing a cold-hearted professionalism to supersede the charity owed one's fel-÷ ÷ ÷ Catholic College Community VOLUME 30, 1971 39 4. 4. 4. William Ribando REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 low religious. Rightly or wrongly, suspicions may arise that old grievances are being revenged via a politely pol-ished letter from the front office. Needless to say, such a situation can have enormous effects on the life, spii'itual and otherwise, of any reli-gious community. Factions can quickly form within the community depending on how individuals evaluate the evidence and the persons involved. ShOck at news of a dismissal can lead to a bitterness which may mar the effect of the community long after the departure of the religious involved. Superior and community wonder what their duty toward such a religious might be while the powers of the "institution" move on to the search [or a replacement more in line with the current needs of the college or university. Sholdd a religious community act as mediator or advo-cate for a religious who is being dismissed for whatever reasons? In some cases, the dismissal may indeed be well merited. In other cases, the very fact that a person is a religious may be used to perpetrate a great injustice. A quiet call to a provincial may result in the eviction of a religious who has served an institution well for many years. Under the guise of "obedience" a person m.ay be forced to take up a new occupation [or which he is both unprepared and uninterested. Certainly the least a community owes its members in such a situation is frank and open discussion and investi-gation of the factors involved. If an injustice has been done the collective voice of the community should be heard in the proper places; and, if need be, the contribu-tions and merits of the religious involved should be stressed to the interested administrators. If the dismissal is justified, the community's collective concern might well be demonstrated in assisting the person in finding a suita-ble position either within the same institution or else-where. In any case, a passive noninvolvement of the com-munity in the case of a religious facing such a situation could well lead to grave problems both within and out-side the religious community. These are but a few of the difficulties faced by the religious engaged in the apostolate of higher education. While they probably pale in comparison to the obstacles faced by the founders of most Catholic colleges, they are nonetheless not insignificant because they deeply effect the lives of the religious involved. Only by raising and discussing questions such as those presented can religious communities hope to preserve the unity of life and sense of Christian mission necessary to make a valuable contri-bution to the colleges and universities which they and their predecessors sacrificed so much to establish. THEODORE VITALI, C.P. A Qyestion of Life or Death: Is "Temporary Vocation" a Valid Concept? Among the many questions being discussed today among religious is the question of perseverance. Put in other words, is there such a thing as a temporary voca-tion? This paper is directed to the problem of perseverance in religious life. It is a theological investigation and thus is concerned formally with the theological validity of the concept "temporary" as modifying "vocation." By voca-tion is meant here a life consecrated to God by vows within the visible Church. This paper is not concerned with the problems encoun-tered in religious life, nor with the reasons given by peo-ple leaving religious life. There is a wealth of written material on this subject. The paper is concerned solely with the theological validity of the concept "temporary vocation." Thus there is no moral judgment intended on persons leaving. Christianity is the Paschal mystery of Christ. In Christ's death, humanity was handed over to the Father in perfect worship and fidelity. Through tlie absoluteness of His death, Christ offered the Father perfect worship. St. Paul in the Letter to the Pbilippians spoke of it in terms of obediential self-surrender. Flesh, the antithesis of spirit in the Pauline sense, is rendered spiritual by obediential self-sacrifice. The Father thus raised the Son, because the Son was obedient unto death. In His human-ity, Christ proclaimed through death that His father was worthy of total obedience, worship, and praise. ÷ Theodore Vitali is a retreat master at St. Joseph Spirit-ual Center; 3800 Frederick Avenue; Baltimore, Mary-land 21229. VOLUME 30, 1971 41 + 4. 4. Theodore Vitali REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 Baptism is the sacramental means by which men enter into this worshipful act of Christ. Through it, the bap-tized descends with Christ sacramentally into sacrificial death and rises with Him through the possession of the Spirit. The Christian life consists in living out this exo-dus, sacrificial self-surrender, (lying to oneself, and living for God. ~a the history of Christianity, many expressions of this baptismal consecration have occurred. In the early years of the Chnrch two modes appear: martyrdom and a life consecrated to the living ont of the evangelical counsels. The fathers of the Chnrch point out throughout their writings the importance and significance of martyrdom. To be martyred was the greatest act a Christian could perform. It was to enter into the baptismal mystery to its most profound depths. With Christ, the martyr obedien-tially handed his life over to the Father in praise and worship. By it, he symbolized and witnessed to the world that God is the supreme value of all human existence, to be worshiped and served. He points out equally well that all finite reality is of value only in relationship to the absolnte valne, God Himself. He points out finally that in death with Christ, one receives life transcending all human aspirations. St. Panl expresses this quite clearly in Philippians 3:8-11. Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him. that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in death, that if possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead. In a word, by his death, the martyr points out to the world that God is the sole absolute in life, the sole and absolute good, infinitely transcending all finite good, even hnman life itself. Martyrdom is the Christian's es-chatological witness to the infinite worth of possessing God in Christ. There are indications in the Scriptures, too, of a way of life, not of martyrdom, bnt containing its essential char-acteristics. We read of widows following the Lord, of the eschatological dimension of virginity in Panl, of single-mindedness in following Christ. While no one would say this is religious life as we know it today, nevertheless there is present, at least inchoately, the basis from which religions life would emerge. Religions life as we know it becomes apparent during the 4th Century. After 313 martyrdom became less likely for the Christian. It was at this time that men went out into the desert. That same mystiqne which drove men to martyrdom now drove them into the desert. Origen spoke of "martyrdom of the spirit." Some spoke of "dry or bloodless martyrdom.'" There existed the strong desire, charism, to live out to the fullest the baptismal consecra-tion. They wished to die with Christ and live for God, but to do it in snch wise as to witness to the world the absoh=teness of God over man and the world. The vows became the means by which this was accomplished. By them, one handed himself over to God irrevocably, re-nouncing the world for the sake of God Himself. At first, this might see~ like the old fashioned notion that the world is bad and must be fled from. It cannot be denied that this element might have been present and might in fact still be present in the thoughts of those who enter this way of life. However, this is not the significant element in rennnciation; in fact, it is antithetical to it. Karl Rahner, S.J. in his essay "Toward a Theology of Renunciation," appearing in the Sister's Formation Bul-letin, Winter 1966, establishes the natnre of this renun-ciation. The rennnciation is eschatological. Rahner looks to the specific nature of the evangelical connsels as the soul of religions life: Renunciation is constituted by the Evangelical Counsels as a continuing way of life . The theology of renunciation be-longs within the framework of a theology of the Evangelical Counsels, inasmuch as we wish to see renunciation as their com-mon element (p. 1). The religious shows the world the possibility of holi-ness. This holiness is union with Christ, now through the theological virtues, and in eternity through beatific vi-sion: Christian perfection consists solely and exclusively in the per-fection of love, given in Christ .Jesus through the Spirit of God, affecting our justification and sanctification. This love encom-passes God and His spiritual creatures in the unity of His King-dora. Hence it is theological and because of its source, Christ in the Church, and its goal, the union of the redeemed in God, is ecclesial as well. Since it is supernatural, this love severs the human being from the world and his imprisonment in self, and draws him up into the already present but still buried-in-faith life of God Himself (p. 1). It is in these two notions that we have the basis of our theology of religious life and the answer to the questiou of "temporary vocations." Through the evangelical counsels the religious bears witness to the eschatological Christ, the eschatological nature of the Church. This is the important difference between religious life and other forms of Christian life: eschatological witness. This witness consists in the rennnciation of the world as good, not as evil, pointing out the absolnteness and ÷ ÷ + l", "T oecnaat~oo~na~ ry VOLUME 30, 1971 + 4. 4. Theodore Vitali REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS infinitely transcendent value of the love of God above all earthly, finite values. The monk in the desert as well as the religious today witness by their lives the "surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus." The martyr did the same by dying for Christ. They performed an absolute, irrevo-cable act of worship, handing themselves, over to the Father. By his vows the religious does the same. He re-nounced all finite values, precisely as good and valuable, because of and precisely for the infinite value of God. Contrasting the form of witness of the non-religious with the religious, Rahner states: The love of Christ, terrestrially orientated, that is, a love which focuses itself upon terrestrial values and acts out of a moti-vation of supernaturalized terrestrial wdues, precisely as it is earthly, has no clear function of showing forth or witnessing to this world the reality of eschatological love . It conceals rather than reveals that character (p. 2). Such life styles point as well to terrestrial values as motiwttions for activity as well as to supernatural wtlues. In fact, as a sign, it reflects primarily the visible terrestrial value not the eschatological. If we are to ask how this eschatological dimension is to be witnessed to, the answer can only be by the renunciation of the earthly values. It is either meaningless or it is the expression and realiza-tion of faith, hope, and charity reaching toward God, God who in Himself without reference to the world, is the goal of human beings in the supernatural order (p. 2). This, then, is the essential difference. For the non-reli-gious, their lives witness primarily the sanctification of the terrestrial order. By that very fact, they point to the goodness of finite reality, created and redeemed by God. Religious, on the other hand, by renotmcing the finite goods of this world, point to the infinite value of God. They remind the world that God is the absolnte wdue, giving meaning to all finite reality. Only God is the abso-lute motive for existence. Given the premises: (1) the Paschal mystery is the cen-tral mystery of Christianity, (2) martyrdom is the fullest expression of the baptismal consecration into that Pas-chal mystery, (3) religious life is a continuation of the charism of martyrdom, and (4) religious life hits as its essential characteristic the eschatological witness to the infinite wdue of God and the supernatural love of God, then it follows that lifetime perseverance is essential to that witness and is essential therefore to the concept of "vocation" as predicated of religious life. Because the witness is to the absolute goodness of God, apart from the world, an act or life consecrated as such, must of itself be absolute. As with the martyr, the values of the life or act lie in the irrevocableness of the act. There is no halfway measure to death; either one dies or he does not. If the martyr backs down at the last moment, there is no escbatological witness. In fact, the finite is witnessed to instead of the infinite in that it was chosen in preference to the infinite. From tiffs it can be concluded that there cannot be a valid theological reality called temporary religious voca-tion. For a valid witness there must be the irrevocability of the act or life. So long as one can validly opt for the finite within the religious life vocation, the religious life as snch bears no eschatological witness. It contains that terrestrial element which nullifies the premise, namely, that God is of infinite value and meaning apart from the world. To witness the infinite, the finite must be irrevoca-bly renounced. It takes an absolute act to sign an abso-lute reality. By its very name, temporary, the concept of "temporary religious vocation" is invalid. Temporary of its very natnre signifies relativity. Relativity and tempo-rary are opposite to absolute and eternal. It may be objected that this is totally a priori and unsympathetic to present problems in religious life. To say it is a priori is not to judge it false. The position is deduced, but from premises established from revelation, tradition, and history. The theologian has the right to make sncb deductions. To say that it is unsympathetic is to render it an inius-rice. The question set before us was concerned with "tem-porary vocation" theologically viewed. The dynamics of religious life and the problems encountered by members of a given community are integral to the question in general, but are not essential to tiffs question taken spe-cifically. In the early Church many people found martyrdom too difficuh to take. This is understandable. Martyrdom is a great grace, perhaps the greatest. Religious life as the continuance of the spirit of martyrdom in the worhl is also a great grace, perhaps the greatest today. As with the martyr, so perhaps with the religious, the martyrdom is complete only with the irrevocability of death. The vows are sealed nltimately with the death in faith of the reli-gious. Perhaps it can be said that religious life is actually constituted for the individual only at the moment of death when the exodus is complete. Only then is the renunciation complete. Only then is the eschatological witness of one's life trnly established. Anything shy of this final and absolute renunciation may be termed Christian, purposeful, necessary perhaps for the individual, and so forth, but it is not a "religious vocation" as sncb. The only person capable of claiming ÷ ÷ ÷ "Temporary Vocation" VOLUME 30, 1971 45 to be a religious is one who accepts the grace of persever-ance to the end, that is, those who die in their vows. Thus, the constitution of the vocation, religious life, is an ongoing process, constantly affirming itself, but never confirmed until death hassealed it. It seems to me, then, that religious life is a question of life or death. ÷ ÷ ÷ Theodore Vitall REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 SISTER MARY GARASCIA, C.PP.S. Second Thoughts on Pluralism and Religious Life "New breed" anti "old breed" may have been first but othet;s tried harder; and those early, simple labels were quickly upstaged by their more sophisticgted cous-ins in the name game. Transcendentalists and incarna-tionalists, moderates, traditionalists, liberals, radicals, secularists (with sub-species pluralists and urbanists, per-sore/ lists, authoritarians and their opposing numbers)-- all crowtled into the limelight.1 But while the labels may be disputed and ridiculed or accepted and praised, virtn-ally no one dispntes the nnderlying reality: Polarities exist in many religious communities today. Before discussing the main subject of this essay, plu-ralism as a sohttion to polarity, some further description of the problem is necessary. It seems that the tension of polarization is not felt during the first phase of renewal when attention is ab-sorbed by the enthnsiastic and optimistic shedding of restrictions and group practices. With the passage of time and the deepening of the qommunity's dialog with itself, however, a mood of pessimism and tension follows the discovery that changes which were supposed to bring great and true spiritual unity have resulted in many other things indeed: "Many members of Religious Orders who managed to live with each otlter successfully under a rnle and a tradition now seem to find this same bar- * For some of the more recent discussions of groups in religious life today, see the following series of articles: George B. Murray, "The Secular Religious," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, V. 26 (1967), pp. 1047--55; Andrew J. Weigert, "A Sociological Perspective on the Secular Religious," REWEW rO~ REL~eIOUS, V. 27 (1968), pp. 871-9; and Placide Gaboury, "The Secular Religious and Pluralism," RE-viEw vo~ R~L~C.~OUS, v. 28 (1969), pp. 604-15. 4- Sister Mary Ga-rascia teaches at San Luis Rey Acad-emy; 4070 Mission Avenue; San Luis Rey, California 92068. VOLUME 30, 1971 47 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Garascia REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 mony impossible on the basis solely of 'love' or 'com-munity.' "'-' As symbolic actions, objects, or idea-con-structs which formerly signified the community's unity become instead points of divergence, and as self-ap-pointed analysts proliferate, confusion and disappoint-ment and fear lead. to the alienation, in greater or less degree, of many members.:~ The phenomenon of anomy (confusion leading to alienation) in religious life has not been adequately studied, but Lachner, drawing upon the work of so-ciologists Durkheim and Merton, gives four effects of anomy on a group: innovation: new means are sought for achieving old goals with the hope that the means can unite where goals fail; ritualism: secure holding on "to patterns of means with little thought about achieving goals; dropping out: this can be done literally or by being uninvolved, indifferent, or unaware; rebellion: active rejection of old goals and means and an attempt to replace them with new ones.4 It should be easy to observe all these behaviors in religious community life today. In recent months the thesis that "honest pluralism must be introduced into the religious life for this time of transition" ~ has been heard with favor by many re-ligious. Is pluralism a legitimate solntion to the polari-zation and anomy described above? Or is the appeal of pluralism actually another effect of anomy by which the commtmity attempts to restore peace through some kind of compromise or coexistence? Religious women who are already prone to sloganism and oversimplifica-tion need to be doubly cautious in this time of insecurity of any euphorions solution to their problems. Pluralism is a complex reality; but it is by no means a new word, coming as it does from the well-established field of ec~menical stt~dies. An tmderstanding of pluralism as it exists "in its native environment" may lead to a more critical application of that concept to religions life. Pluralism: Its Meaning In German, pluralismus (pluralism) has a pejorative meaning; it is an ism and as such it is absolute so that w/file it glorifies multiplicity and diversity, it is also -"James Hitchcock, "Here Lies Community: R.I.P.," America, May 30 1970, pp. 578-82. a Joseph Lachner, S.M., "Anomie and Religious Life," .ro~ R~w,~oos, v. 28 (1969), pp. 628-36; and Reginald Masterson, O.P., "Religious Life in a Secular Age," Cross and Crown, June 1970, p. 142. ~ Lachner, "'Anomie," p. 629. My listing of his effects is slightly modified. ~Thomas O'Meara, O.P., Holiness and Radicalism in Religious Life (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970), p. 16 (italics omitted). intolerant of any worldview or metaphysic that tries to synthesize or establish relationships; hence it leads to subjectivism and individualism. German prefers plu-ralith't (plurality) which means that not only nnitariness and unity but multiplicity and diversity pervade reality and human experience.6 English uses the two words more or less interchangeably, but to Americans pluralism con-notes the variegated religious scene: "By plurfilism. I mean the coexistence within the one political commu-nity of gronps who hold divergent and incompatible views with regard to religious questions . Pluralism therefore implies disagreements and dissensions within the community. But it also implies a community within which there must be agreement and consensus.''7 In its fundamental sense, pluralism is a condition flowing from inan's mtture and the variety of human experience, from tlte nnique spiritual and intellectual histories of indi-viduals and groups, from urban specialization, the knowledge explosion, and Realpolitik: "The transparent, concrete unity of all things exists for man as a meta-physical postulate and an eschatological hope but not as something available for his manipulation. This plu-ralism is the hallmark of man's creatnreliness: only in God is there perfect unity; in the finite world the an-tagonisms within reality are invincible.''8 Pluralism is a condition of the Church which from the beginning welded opposing factions into a commt, nity of faith and love." There is no expression of Christian belief that can exhaust the message of Christ; there have always been plural (but complementary) theologies beginning with the Evangelists?o Pluralism is not merely to be tolerated but cherished by the Church who sees diversity as an effect of the outpouring of the Spirit. Pluralism helps to impede the growth of the wrong kind of collectivism in Church and society and prevents the establishment of privileged groups within the Church--or the establish-ment of the Church as a privileged group in society, for that matter: All modern pluralisms which move man into the center of things, which make him the subject and concern of the world °Heinrich Fries, "Theological Reflections on the Problem of Pluralism," Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), p. 3. *John Courtney Murray, S.J., We Hold These Truths (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1960), p. x. s Karl Rahner and Herbert Vorgrimler, Theological Dictionary (New York: Herder and Herder, 1965), p. 359. "Avery Dulles, s.J., "Loyalty and Dissent: After Vatican II," America, June 27 1970, p. 673. ~o Chenu and Heer, "Is the Modern World Atheist?" Cross Cur-rents, v. 11 (1961), p. 15; and John T. Ford, "Ecumenical Conver-gence and Theological Pluralism," Thought, Winter 1969, pp. 540-1. 4- Pluralism VOLUME 30, 1971 49 ÷ ÷ ,4. Sister Mary Garascia REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50 . which speak of freedom and of the unmanipulatible, in-violable Imman person, of the human dignity and human rights and conscience.which then are realized in the form of tolerance and humanitarianism and institutionally in the form of democracy--all these are original and legitimate fruits from the tree of Christian faith and of the effects which it envokes?' .4berrations o[ Pluralism Pluralism stands Janus-like, its second face something of a grotesque caricature of its first. Analysts of religion in America warn of possible disastrous results of an over-zealous espousal of pluralism. One attthor tohl the anec-dote of the donkey who starved between two bales of hay because be could not decide which to eat. On his death certificate was inscribed: Death due to acute, prolonged open-mindedness. In making the same point about 'plu-ralism, another author stated that "ahhougb it purports to be a total open-mindedness transcending sectarian lim-its, this attitude is really tire familiar Anglo-Saxon fallacy that if one pretends not to-have a metaphysic, then in fact be does not bave one." v, Radical Christians, he con-tinues, tend to embrace a dogmatic optimism which may lead to nihilism. From the. vacuum created by the at-tempt to buihl a cuhure without a consensus based on a belief system can come the substitution of a monolith like the "scientific world view" or "work"; or it can lead instead to a kind of pantheism: "The secularization of the West has not left a vacnum but a terrain filled with images and idols and ideologies." aa One of these idols may be an over-romantic and diffused notion of love inflated to fill the gap and be a Linus-blanket to hippie youth, splinter groups, and middle America alike.~ Or America itself may assume the Supreme Importance with the various religions being merely ahernate and variant forms of being religious in the American ¼Zay.~ In short, what passes for a uniqne unity of diverse religious naen-talities in America may be in fact indifferentism, a syn-cretic pseudo-religion, or a facade with the wars still go-ing on beneath a fragile surface of urbanity.~ Phtralism and the Religious Community I suggest that an urban religious community., would lean toward pluralism: all the members having a common ground, n Fries, "Theological Reflections," p. 15. ~-"James Hitchcock, "Christian Values and a Secular Society," A merica, September 13 1969, p. 159. ~ZMartin E. Marty, Varieties of Unbelief (Garden City: Double-day, 1964), p. 58. "Ibid., p. 77. ~nWillia~n Herberg, Protestant, Catholic Jew (Gardeq City: Dou-bleday, 1960), p. 262; and Marty, Varieties, pp. 148-51. ~ Murray, We Hold These Truths, p. 19. ,; minimal basis of understanding, but each having his own freedom, being his own self, following his own trend, "doing his own thing." Here the role of the "shared common core" would be to protect and stimulate the individuality of each member, to foster diversity and not simply tolerate it.'7 How should a remark like tiffs one be interpreted in light of a mature understanding of the nature of plu-ralism?. Pluralism can be welcomed by the religious com-munity as a legitimate insight and a partial solution to polarization only if it is ~i pluralism which is authenti-cally evangelical. Following from what has been said above, it would seem that at least four statements can be made about pluralism in the religious community. Pluralism and Tolerance There must he an atmosphere of tolerance in the com-munity if diversity is not to result in hostility. Tolerance is born of reverence for the conscience of persons and of the realization that faith is a free thing. Tolerance must be more than polite civility. A person is not "tolerant who is naively unaware of the basic differences that exist be-tween members of his community or who tries to cover over these differences with an imposed unity of his own such as "love" or "personalism." 18 Neither is the one tolerant who believes that everyone should simply "do his own thing." Nor is the tolerant person the one who figures that eventually everyone will come around to his own view or that sooner or later "our day will come." Definitely the tolerant person is not the one who ap-proves any diversity--as long as it is one of the approved deviations permitted by the majority consensus. The tol-erant person has a high "tolerance" for the ambiguons, the imperfect, and the complex. Tolerance is akin to pa-tience. Pluralism and Conflict There will be tension and conflict in the ph~ralistic community and it is unrealistic to expect these to disap-pear in the foreseeable ft|ture. Tile community mn~t be constantly on gnard lest it react to conflict by reverting to a rigid structure, by attempting to stifle criticism, by silencing or ridding itself of individuals or groups who differ with the prevailing consensus, or in any other way hehaving defensively. Genuine pluralism requires ". that we resist policies destined to neutralize specific .and az Gaboury, "The Secular Religious," p. 612. ~sSee the analysis of the shortcomings of the personalist world-view in Gaboury, "The Secular Religious," p. 613. ÷ 4- + Pluralism VOLUME .30, 1971 51 Sister Mary Garascla REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS definite convictions and establish a uniform lowest com-mon denominator . ,, ~9 Pluralism and Diversity Individuality and diversity must be encouraged in a way that is more than a concession to the times. Laws have not yet structured diversity in religious practice into such key areas as spirituality, the vows, communal life, apostolic life; until diversity is sanctioned by law, it must exist surreptitiously and imperfectly. Groups should be able to exist within a community without be-ing made to feel that they are harmful or at least suspect. Rahner points out that groups in the Church are not dangerous in themselves as long as they are not merely representing particular interests, using unchristian means to make their will effective, working as pressure groups using the threat of schism, or confusing human or secular imperatives with gospel exigency.'-'0 Groups in a religious community need to discover their own limits and possibilities. No group should have special privileges; there must be equality of opportunity for the expression of spiritualities and philosophies and personalities. Phtralism and Unity A pluralistic society is one relentlessly searching for unity. Dialog is the process of this search, a dialog charac-terized by openmindedness but also by strong convictions and dedication to the truth, a debate conducted with the spiritual weapons of humility, persuasion, and wisdom. "There is in the Church a singnlar which may never be dissolved into a plural but always remains unique, definitive, unsurpassable, exclusive. . the once-for-all character of Christ, of his person, his history and his achievement." 21 In what shall the unity of the religions community consist? This is the question of the hour. Probably there will not be too many bonds, but they will be profound ones close to the sources of the Christian mystery. Perhaps a deepened appreciation of redemption and mission will hold together a community pluralized by diverse works. There must be a renewal of spirituality in the community, possibly in the direction of a sacra-mental spirituality. The.dialogic search for identity in Christ and the ever continuing effort to renew and purify the community--with the attendant insecurity and tur-moil- can give a sense of tmity to a community which comprehends the ways of the Spirit. Certainly the in- ~°William A. Visscr't Hooft, "A Universal Religion?" Catholic World, v. 206 (1967), p. 34. ~ Karl Rahner, "'Schism in the Church," Month, November 1969, pp. 252-6. '-'r Fries, "Theological Reflections," p. 20. sight into the inviolable dignity of the person, the main contribution of American pluralism, is already acting as a motivating and unifying factor to some degree. Eventu-ally the search for unity must lead to the rediscovery of meaningfid symbols--actions and words which express and point to the reality which is the religious commu-nity. The unity of a community is not real unless it can be expressed in concrete symbolic form. The great task of plnralism is to turn our attention away from pragmatic and structural renewal toward a dialogic search by all diverse elements of a commnnity for the sources of its unity. Tim purpose of this essay has been to reflect on the reality of pluralism as it is understood in ecumenical studies in order to understand what its application might be in the American religious community of today. Taking its cue from the Church, the religious community em-braces its own variety, conscious that through plurality o[ personalities, mentalities, and spiritualities, it can be truly experienced in good deeds and service, a sign of wisdom, and a radiant bride made beautifid for her spouse.'-"-' Vatican Council II, Decree on Renewal oI Religious Lile, n. 1. 4- + + Pluralism VOLUME 30, 1971 53 SISTER MARY FINN Woman Who Is She? Sister Mary Finn is a Hotne Visitor of Mary and lives at 356 Arden Park; Detroit, Michigan 48202. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 54 The gospel of Mary is the good news of woman. Woman is the one who sets out, goes forth, quickly--to the city. town., street; into the hill country., house of Zach-ary; greeting Elizabeth. proclaiming., magnifying. Woman is the one who magnifies--the one the Lord God magnifies. The Lord proclaims His greatness in her; over-flows with love and delight; praises her; rejoices in her. He sets His eyes upon her; blesses her for all generations. Woman goes to a town . to Jesus. Jesus is the town. Jesus is where she lives, pours out her love, receives full-ness and riches of earth. She comes to hill country., to home of all the Zacharys there are. Woman is honse of Zachary, house of birth, house of brothering, sistering; house of new life; place of communion, so

Issue 27.4 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. 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 l~vmw FOR I~LmmUS; 6~ Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3=I Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University~ the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REview ro~ R~LIGIOGS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 4 DAVID T. ASSELIN, s.J. Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment My purpose is to situate personal spiritual discernment in the context of faith-growth, that is, Christian matu-rity. From this viewpoint, to educate the faith is less a question of theological instruction than one of guided. spiritual experience. I am thinking of the teleioi of Hebrews 5:14, "the mat~[re who have their faculties trained by experience to discern between good and evil," an excellent summary of the Spirit's work of restoration out of the chaos which resulted from man's original attempt to determine good and evil for himself and on his own. The term could also be translated "the perfect," or, perhaps, "the personally fulfilled." Faith, throughout this discussion, should be under-stood in the sense of Vatican II's Decree on the At~osto-late of the Laity: Only by the light of'faith [the impressive word is "only"] and by meditation on the word of God, can one always and everywhere recognize God, in whom "we live and move and have our being," seek His will in every event, see Christ in all men whether they are close to us or strangers, make correct judgments about the true meaning and value of temporal things, both in themselves and in their relationship to man's final goal. ¯ Ex.cept for meditation on Scripture nothing is said in this text about the means of maturing the faith. The Council simply outlines the content of adult faith. What I should like to explore is an indispensable element in the process of maturation of this content. The truth of the matter is that faith is not primarily a source of answers to our questions but rather our answer to the Lord's question; "Lovest thou me?" In other words, I take faith not as quest for answers (to our in-tellectual problems) nor as a set of answers (to the ques-tions of "others), but as the answer "of the whole person 4, David T. Asselin, S.J., is spiritual di-rector at Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 27, 1968 581 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 to the Lord inserting His Person and Spirit, and thus articulating Himself as the divine Word, in human life. My general proposition is that at the very heart of growing in faith we find, necessarily, a refinement and increase of the grace of spiritual discernment. Without discernment there is no growth in faith. Spiritual dis-cernment, therefore, is less a question of being intellec-tually clever than of being graced and called by the Lord to grow in knowledge of Him. All things serve the Lord of history; all persons are called to be the vehicles of His creative will; all men willy-nilly serve the God of human history's purposes. Otherwise, they would not be introduced into ongoing incarnational history. However, not everyone, so far, seems to hear the call to know the Lord he se~wes, to know Him as a friend does a friend, as a son his father, a wife her husband. To know Him is the mark of spiritual growth and maturity. Faith-growth is God's work. Man can do no better than collaborate with the divine initiative in his spiritual life. This seems to imply several things. First of all, as the spiritual point of departure, it de-mands an openness to being moved by God. This is the key to obedience as well as to all spiritual encounter. The fundamental Christian attitude, then, is that of a listener, one who is open to divine initiatives whatever they might be. It is radically and essentially a prayer-attitude, one that continues, or ought to continue, be-yond prayer into the apostolate and every other work or experience. The second implication is a need for some continual scrutiny and reflection in regard to the experiences inte-rior to 6neself in prayer and in all life's situations. This self-examination is needed not merely to lay hold of juridically impt.~table faults but more importantly to grow in habitual discrimination and discernment-by-faith of the various, interior experiences and personal spiritual calls--impulses, inclinations, attractions, re-pugnances, assaults--that occur much more frequently than perhaps we either admit or spiritually discern. The third demand is a growing ability to recognize and respond only to those experiences which are dis-cernibly frotn the Lord. Here, in the area of concrete affectivity, are the contacts with the Lord's divine initia-tives guiding the individual person or community. The difference between personal spiritual direction and spir-itual government of a community involves a difference in the mode of spiritual scrutiny and recognition of the divine will in the concrete. Whatever accidental dif-ference may emerge in the mode of reflection on ex-perience, both the community scrutiny and the ifldi- .vidual scrutiny lead ultimately to the possibility of a response which we may call "rightly ordered," a direct response to inner vocation that gives first place to answer-ing the.Lord's question, "Lovest thou me?" In brief, these three requirements---openness to spir-itual experience, reflection on it, and response-ability to it--are basic elements in the growth of personal sensi-tivity to the initiatives of the Lord, or spiritual discern-ment. Whether on the community or individual level, in order to achieve government, spiritual direction, or faith-growth, the cooperation of several is required. The director 'and the directed, the superior and the subject, the spiritual father and his "son,'~ must both be. humbly alert in a collaboration of listening to the Lord's Spirit~ The basic relationship of spiritual direction and govern-ment is a structured team-work of director and directed in discerning the will of the Lord in concrete~ situations. Both, then, must be continually subordinated to the Lord's Spirit and His word as the principal director. The hierarchy of subordination, in the context of spir-itual direction, is that of a human directo]: who by his calling is the servant of a relationship growing between the one directed and the Spirit of the Lord. In a sense, then, the human director takes his stand, spiritually, in the lower, not the higher, place. In this relationship of spiritual direction, destined to serve the Lord's creative work in the individual and in the ~ommunity, the responsibility falls first on the Lord Himself, secondly on the group or the individual' called to Him, and finally on the servant of their relationship, the spiritual director. If there" is any subordination to human direction in responding to God, this sub-ordination must be established by the Lord and guaran-teed. by Him (or by a convenant or pact freely entered into on the part of the subject). Growth in discernment of the action of God's Spirit is, then, the thing which truly matures and estab-lishes in the faith a spiritual person or community. An authentic spiritual community is one which can be described in terms of its real awareness of being moved and directed by the Holy Spirit, on many levels. This awareness is not just found vaguely throughout the com-munity but according to the clearly defined functions of properly subordinated individuals. As we find in the Gospels, to be great in the community° of the Lord is to be the least and servant of all. The work of the one wh~)se responsibility it is to direct others is a work of assisting them, as individuals and as a group, to hear and respond better to the Lord's initiatives in every ,situa-tion. This direction or government is a spiritual thing pre2 ÷ 4, Maturity and ¯ Discernment ~VOLUME 27, 1968 583 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 cisely to the extent that it is collaboration with the Lord's Spirit, the ultimate director and superior. The Lord's indications, leads, initiatives, must be discerned as coming from Him and then followed, if a man is to serve the Lord in a way befitting man, that is by knowing the Lord he serves. There is, then, a need today to respect the importance and centrality of interior, personal, spiritual experience without undue fear of false mysticism or of the folly of the enthusiasts, quietists, alumbrados. Moreover, we must investigate the area of spiritual experience today because the Church is not only inviting ns but requiring us to do so, in the words of one who cries out: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:11). The word "maturity" has been aptly defined by the Swiss psychologist, Jean Piaget, who made extensive studies of children in their process of development. Mh-turity, he found, is simply an increase in the capacity to differentiate in a practical manner interior experiences and operations. If we adopt this definition, then the life of faith in a man is mature to the extent that it involves a capacity to reflect upon, understand, discriminate be-tween, and respond to, the inner spiritual stimuli that he experiences within himself. The Lord's Personal Call It might be well here to suggest some relationships between general law or principle on the one hand, and individuated personal experience on the other. To di-vorce the two is to fall into legalism and moralism, or into a kind of situation-ethic. The problem is how to relate these poles. It is true that general law and principle rightly and concretely circumscribe each personal situation. But they do so only to the extent that this situation is common to all men, and not proper to this person as such. I mean that the situations of Peter and of Paul are cor-rectly guided by general principle only insofar as Peter and Paul are men, therefore impersonally considered, not insofar as they are distinguished from each other by name. Peter qua Peter is more than just a man. In this regard permit me to draw attention to the per-fect way of knowing a man, intimately and personally, which is the Lord's way of knowing him, that is, by name. We read in Isaiah 43:1: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine." Or again, in John 10:3: "The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them forth." Scripture continually reveals the personal and intimate knowledge that the Lord has of each of His creatures: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you" (Jer 1:5); "Lord, you have pi:obed me and you know me, you understand my thoughts from afar, with all my ways you are familiar, even~ before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it, where can I go from your Spirit, from your presence where can I flee" (Ps 138:139). Just as it is clear that the Lord knows and calls each man by name, it is equally clear that man becomes spir-itually mature to the extent that he can recognize and acknowledge who it is that is calling him, responding to . the Lord by name in all things: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers the day I took them by the hand to lead them forth from the land of Egypt. For they broke my covenant and I had to show myself their master, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the House of Israel after those days, says the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they have need to teach their friends and kinsmen how to know the Lord. All, the least to the greatest, shall know Me, says the Lord, for I will forgive their evil doing and remember their sin no more (Jer 31:31ff.). It seems clear, here and elsewhere in Scripture, that God is establishing with each human person as well as with His community a new spiritual relatiqnship of tremendous value which exceeds the expectations of authentic Chris-tian personalism today. In order to discover the meaning of Peter qua Peter, and of Paul as unique and distinct from Peter, in the context of universal salvation history (which, after all, is the task in which spiritual directors and superiors are, I believe, primarily intended to assist), it is necessary to discover the unique meaning, value, and orientation that is proper to Peter's spiritual situation precisely as distinct from Paul's, before the Lord. By what kind of logic is this sort of knowledge attained? Over and above the universal validity of general principle and law, Peter, as an unrepeatable, unique individual, must be guided by a logic that is other than the logic of general principle and universal law. In other words, there are two kinds of logic. One logic, which .we might call conceptual or proposi-tional, is the basis for reasoning in universally valid terms. The point of departure, the principle or the foun-dation from which the successive insights and conclu-sions proceed according to this logic will be an axiom. It begins therefore with a self-evident proposition. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 585 D. T. As~elin, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 Logic o[ the Concret~ .There is another logic, however, the Jogic of con-crete, unique, and individual events and persons (which, inCidentally, is the w, ay God apprehends things). Here, . the human foundation or first principle will no longer be an axiom but an experience. As the logic of conceptual knowledge is based on axiomatic, propositions, so the logic of concrete knowledge is based on concrete ex-perience. Mature faith-response to the Lord's word can emerge only from personal encounter with Him. I think it is the job of superiors and spiritual directors to point to those authentic experiences whereby the Lord is communicating Himself to individuals and communi-ties, thus guiding their spiritual growth and governing their development as Christian persons. This concret~ knowledge of the Lord and of His ways. can only be had, as the Vatican Council proposes, "by meditation on the word of God." Faith-growth is inseparable from prayer-life. Both are areas of fundamental concern to all who are called not only by the Lord's, "Lovest thou me?" but also by His, "Feed my lambs and sheep." What, therefore, the individual as such ought to de-cide in the area of liberty and private responsibility cannot be fully determined by general principle or law. It is of vital importance, however, that what is decided be determined with spiritual certitude, not merely by guesswork, accident, or whim. This is precisely why reliable, that is, mature, faith-discernment of interior experiences and, events is important. Otherwise, we run a risk of considering these experiences as mere psycho-logical phenomena, avoiding the whole world of con-crete events in function of which spiritual discernment and maturity can take place. Rather, we must approach the world of private and group e~perience as filled with the glorious presence (shekinah) of the Lord, the indications of His will and concrete providence, and perhaps .the presence of an adverse spirit. Hence, it is only a faith-awareness and dis-cernment of these events which can lead to an under-standing of the individual or community relationship to the Lord, an estimation of their spiritual maturity, and a reliable ifi~rease in their personal freedom and re- + sponsibility. + No concrete choice can be well ordered in the faith + unless it coincides with the determination~ of the Lord 'of all human history. To be aware of these things in the concrete is the only way for a man to be "with it" spir-itually, or "where the action is." To be with the Lord of history, who revealed Himself as being so continually and intimately with us, we must be in personal corn- munication with Him in all things. Therefore, the particular experience that functions as a self-evident first principle for the logic of concrete individual knowl-edge is nothing short of a real experience of the Lord communicating Himself and uttering His invitation and call directly to a pers9n for his u.nique situation, Growth in discernment presupposes several elements. There must be, first of all, inner experience; second,. repeated reflection, on this experience; third, a dis-crimination between various experiences, not from the pbint of view of mere natural causalities (psychological or otherwise), but from that of personal faith in the Lord of concrete history; fourth, an evaluation of these interior experiences from this faith-standpoint; finally, the ca-pacity to receive and obey those movements which are discernibly from the Lord, or.at least clearly not inspired by an adverse spirit. This is the only way to be with the Lord, and where His action is, in reality. Only thus can a man truly grow as a mature person and find. fulfillment. He must find his own personal relationship with the Creator and Lord of all things, and place himself at His service unre-servedly. Experience, then, of encounter and contact with .the Lord, of listening to and of being guided by Him di-rectly, must lie within the capacities of ordinary Chris-tian faith-maturity. Otherwise, how could an adult Chris-tian enjoy an authentic spiritual calling? The only way a man can be divinely called to a personal vocation is "bY name," which means by a unique and personal en-counter with tbe Lord in terms of incommunicable inner experience. Surely our adult Christians, in the light of Vatican II, are not merely destined to serve the Lord, but intimately to know the Lord they serve. Surely their service must flow from a personal.knowledge of Him, a concrete knowledge which cannot be grasped from the-ology or from psychology or even from the mere absence of "impediments to vocation," but from personal ex-perience and prayer. There is question here of something mystical, at least on an elementary level, in the ordinary faith-growth of a Christian--something entailing immediate conscious con-tact with the person of the Lord. Hence, we confront today a mysticism that is to be recognized and fostered within the ordinary providence of God's grace for anyone called to know Him. This kind of knowledge is what specifies the relationship between. God and His people, God and the individual, in the whole Judaeo-Christian history of vocation. I submit that today the discernmentof spirits, as it is called, is the most relevant focal, point in our spiritual ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 587 ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS heritage, because it is the concrete., logic of personal spiritual knowledge of las cosas internas, the "interior things," the life of inner spiritual experience. Only a refined spiritual discernment will guide a man to mature self-possession, freeing him from inner disorder in his choosing so that he may enjoy a growing, divine en-counter of faith in all circumstances. In this way, his faith-awareness will envelop, enlighten, guide everything else in his life, so that he will not be able to love any-thing ~r anyone save "in the Lord." It is only within this world of each man's personal experience that his faith-response can be given to the evocative word of the Lord. " Today.in this age of personalism, of self-discovery, of fulfillment, of communication and dialogue, there is a dyifig interest, in any gospel that might limit itself to spiriyual absolutes and generalities, to moralism or trite devotionalism, just as there is a reaction against the spiritual anonymity of the" "lonely crowd" and. the impersonality of the "organization man" in our "secular city.:' Such-labels indicate' the personal alienation that threatens urbanized man today. We all know the reac-tion formation which arises against this situation, offering a purely secular salvation in terms of this-worldly ful-fillment of man's four basic desires: his desire for security, affection, variety, and esteem. Man's real salvation today, however, according to our Christian world-view based on the 'new covenant announced in Jeremiah 31, 31 ft., entails being radicallygraced by God in such a way that the divine presence and will can be known and hcknowl- ' edged personally by each man. Confronted exclusively with general principles and laws, or the enunciation of general truths based upon them which do not focus on each man as a unique per-son but necessarily treat him merely as another instance of numerically multipliable human nature undistin-guished by any name, modern man will remain deaf to ¯ his true personal call to greatness, spiritually immature. If the Christian logic of concrete personal vocation is ignored today, there is a growing danger that tomorrow both Peter and Paul will search for their identity out, side the authentic Christian view of things., perhaps against it. It is only through the gradual and inevitably painful education of a man's faith-view of concrete particulars, that is, the education of his capacity spiritually to dis-cern concrete reality within himself or others, that he can be entrusted with the responsibility of personally determining the steps and measures which bear on his own salvation or that of others. ~ We are far from endorsing, therefore, an undiscerning confidence and blind acceptance of everything that a man spontaneously is inclined to think best. According to the view of some, everything is acceptable or good which inwardly attracts or moves a man, as long as it is not a clear inclination to sin. As a matter of fact, if it were all that easy it would hardly be worth discussing. Spiritual responsibility is insured only by an authentic growth of the capacity to discern the personal word and will of Christ for onself or for another. This merely re-affirms the central Christian position which is one of lis-tening to and following the word of God addressed to man: "Blessed is hewho hears the word of God and keeps it"; or again: "My mother and brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." To some degree or other all of us have this problem of faith-maturity. Therefore, we must consider maturity not as a terminal achievement but rather as maturation, a continuum of emerging awareness of interior en-counter and personal vocation initiated by the Lord. All this applies to community experience as well as to that of the individual, and it includes in its ambit the beginner as well as the teleios in the sense of Hebrews 5:14, "the one who has faculties trained by experience to discern good from evil." This points to faith-guided discernment as the cor-rection of Adam's fault who attempted, :according to Genesis 3, on his own and independently of the Lord's personal indication, to "eht of the fruit of the tree of. the knowledge of good and evil," that is, to discern for himself independently of God what was good and evil in the concrete. Hence any education in the discernment of right from wrong must emerge from the radical faith-position of one who is a listener to the Lord: "All that is not of faith is sin" (Rom 14:23). Structure and Individuation We are always confronted with the necessity of ad-mitting the young into formation structures in such a way as to allow for varying degrees of spiritual maturity already achieved and to foster further personal growth in the knowledge of God's will and love by discernment. Moreover, at the beginning of the process of formation there are two factors polarized, which, I feel, need to undergo considerable change in their basic relationship .by the end of that formative process. We can label those two factors "structure" and "in-dividuation." Structure, here, means a generally pre-dictable behavior pattern within which the individual and the group are directed to maturity in their en-counter with the Lord. For beginners there is need of a ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment. ,~.~ VOLUME 27~ 1968" 589 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 meaningful and reasonable overall structure in which the young candidates are .introduced to spiritual re-sponsibility. This structure will be more extensive and more detailed in virtue of the greater need for assistance and protection required in the period of initial growth. By individuation, in the context of formation, I mean everything that falls under the general heading of per-sonal admonition, directive, prescription, correction, or guidance. It is my general i~npression that we have not been afflicted so'much with overstructure in formation (we have had much structure but I think much is needed to ¯ .begin the process of faith-growth) as with a kind of rev-erence for this structure which tends to find maturity in terms of structural function and hence to preserve initial structures unchanged throughout religious life. ¯ I also believe we have been afflicted with an anxious protection and maintenance of this structure by over-stricture, so that the individual has been given to feel that the structure is an absolute value and that his least exterior failure or fault will be judged as maximal when, in fact, it might be objectively and spiritually minimal. A process of destructuring must occur. But, more im-portantly, we ought to begin formation with complete gentleness, patience, and the allowance for personal uniqueness, in the application of strictures within the required structure. With structure and individuation polarized in this way at the point of departure of formation, let me. degcribe the general evolution .which hopefully might occur with respect to the relationship between structure and individuation over the years, By its end a period of formation ought to reveal much less structure (because we' can presume that with discernment the spiritual adult has become more personally aware of his Lord and has achieved a more refined sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit) and much more stricture (because he has grown in spiritual sensitivity, in his capacity for self-direction, for discerning the Lord in all things by faith and love, and is consequently more accountable, that is, responsible, for these things). No community ought to aim at being completely un-structured or informal as long as men are mortal and original sin still, affects their motivation, decisions, and efforts. But I believe much failure in formation is due to the initial overemphasis of both stricture and struc-ture, producing a reaction against¯ both. We often end up with serious:difficulties not so much with the young as the old and religiously "formed," who, when it is safe to throw off structures, will no longer listen to stric-ture either. This, of course, reveals that their formation left them spiritually immature. How difficult it is at times to tell a man who has been~ twenty-five years in religious life what to do or not to do. It is not easy, if he is obstinate. It is not easy if he feels: "Now that I have gone through that formation bit, you don't push me around." I think a lot of our scandal emerges precisely when the process of destructuring takes place reveali.ng little faith-education or spiritual maturity to fill up the vac-uum created by ~his process. It shows that no growth in spiritual responsibility has.supplanted the firmness of protective structures. By the end of our periods of formation, when the col-lective factors have been diminished on the level of structure, there ought to emerge a deeper spiritual rela-tionship with the superior, confessor, personal director, on the individual level, that is, on the level of concrete prescription, spiritual direction, and discernment. I feel that little faults in mature persons are much more serf-otis than little faults in beginners. Perhaps we ought to increase the importance of private direction for the ma-ture, not only in the sense of reprehension and correction of faults, but also of more tailored discernment of the will of the Lord. Existentially, this continuum of for-mation ought to be a movement, from external law to the interior law of love. , St. Paul had insight int~ such freedom. He claims that we are freed by learning to love like Christ. He does not mean by freedom that we are no longer bound by ex-ternal law, but rather that we are no longer driven, cap-tured, or urged by anything except by divine love: "Caritas Christi urget nos." To the degree that mature Christian love existentially directs a man's choices, his need for external law and direction is lessened. Only.by the "strength of the Lord's personal initiati~ces of love in his regar~l wi!l he be stimulated to respond to the Lord's word calling him to share responsibility for his own salvation and that of others. This call in its fullness is identical with the vocation to enter the paschal mystery of the Lord's suffering service, death, and resurrection. Hence, we can say with Vatican II that it is "only by faith and by meditation on the word of God" that we can find God's will in anything, discover Christ in our fellow man, or evaluate temporal things in their true light, that is, in the light of salvation history into which all things have happily been assumed by the risen Lord. There is no possibility of mature faith-growth unless, between the beginning and the end of its spectrum, there is inserted personal, incommunicable experience of en-trance into the mystery of Christ's dying and rising. The problem today is a growing tendency to skip the + + + Maturity and Discernment" VOLUME 27, '1968 591 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 passion and death in an attempt to establish the Resur-rection. We need more than ever a spiritual awareness of the contemporary dimensions of the passion and death, such as you find in St. Paul who identifies the mystery of Christ's nekrosis with his own experiences of suffering, persecution, and rejection in the apostolate and. ministry . of the word. The word "mystery" in this context means a human experience of the Word made flesh such as we imply when we speak of the "mysteries" of the rosary Or when we contemplate the "mysteries of the public life of Jesus." The definitive mystery of the Word made ttesh is His redemptive experience of dying and rising, which is the matrix of all Christian formation and maturity. Growth and formation involve the development of a conscious love relationship with the Lord. Lovers are those who share intimately each other's experiences of joy and suffering and know by experience the depth and the breadth and the mystery of the unique other. The Lord has this kind of knowledge of us--a knowledge which can become the friendship of .mutual love only if we dwell also in this kind of knowledge of Him. Therefore, our entrance into His mystery of passion and death implies, in the first place, a growth in our aware-ness of His complete entrance into our mystery, His complete appropriation of our personhood and life ex-perience. Neither this awareness nor the experience of entry into His mystery are vague abstractions. His definitive entrance into our present life was by a very real dying and rising. It is this experience of His that has become the key to our faith-awareness of Him. Thus, His suffer-ing, dying, rising, unfold anew in our life experience because of our intimate, mutual involvement with Him, revealed by faith. Conclusion The real spiritual theology of action, of renewal, and of labor (including the labors of the apostolate and min, istry of the word), centers on this contemporary sharing in Christ's redemptive death and resurrection. You will find this everywhere in St. Paul, for instance in I Corin-thians 1:3 ft. and 4:7 ff: "The sufferings of Christ abound in us, the consolation in you"; or again: "We are con-tinually carrying about in our bodies the dying state of Jesus so that the living state of Jesus may be manifest in our bodies too." So, too, Paul speaks of the personal mandate through Christian baptism of entering into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection, which implies finding the dimensions of His mystery as it is realized concretely in one's own. This Will involve a personal sharing of the emptying-out or kenosis of Christ, an experience of hu-man b~irrenness, agony, and dereliction out of which alone can emerge the marvelous truthfulness of the Lord rising in our personal world, today. I do not think this is going to be appreciated if it is merely described, as I do here. It is something that must be learned from experience under the guidance of that kind of spiritual discernment that calls a thing by its right name, as it is occurring in a man's experience. No natural terms or categories are sufficient, to capture the meaning of this experience of.entry into the mystery of Christ that is ours. Hence, the language of faith is the principal language to be used in spiritual direction and discernment. Nobody can accomplish for me this work of collabora-tion with Christ to which I am personally called. With-out personal inner encounter I have knowledge only of a kind of "unknown God," which really is no knowl-edge at all; and the danger of not knowing God is of be-coming adokimos, someone of an undiscerning mind, who knows created reality by experience without dis-cerning the Lord and Creator. This was the failure of the pagans according to Romans 1:18 ft., where Paul degcribes their decline through various stages of degrada-tion because they were unable to discern the will and love of the Lord of all creation. The human conversation with God was broken off in the garden of Eden, not because God stopped speaking to man but because man stopped listening to God. All sacred history recounts the restoration not only in the individual but in the city of man of the ability to listen to the word olz God articulated in the contemporary events and realities of each successive age, as in a con-tinuing kaleidoscope of the Lord's presence articulated in the eternal '~today" of man's relationship to his Lord. The builders of the tower of Babel were dispersed by God because they attempted to build the city on their own, without His initiative, His word. Abraham, in the next chapter, is the one in whom the listening to God's word historically begins to be restored. Eventually, the city image of Babel in Chapter 11 of Genesis, the city which is almost a bad word in theearly parts of Scrip-ture, becomes the very end-time symbol of the awareness of God's intimate presence and conversation in Apoc-alypse 21, where the new city created by God, the new Jerusalem, needs neither temple nor source of light other than God Himself and his Son the Lamb. Eventually, the Lord who is Father and the Lamb will themselves be both temple-of worship and source of light for the city of man. This symbol marks the terminal point of + + + Maturity and Discernment VOLUME "27, 1968 593 + ÷ ÷ D. T.'Asselin, REVIE~FOR RELIGIOUS community salvation. If you read Apocalypse 21, you will find that the individual relationship to the Lord emerges as perfect along with the destructured com-munity relationship to the Lord: "He who overcomes shall possess these things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son" (Ap 21:7). There is no opposition, then, between the community-growth and individual fulfillment. We reach full person-hood in the community of the Lord's people by sharing an awareness of God's personal presence and glory. We celebrate this in our daily Eucharist. We announce these Christian facts of life and we promote them, there. We increase and grow in our realization of them by listening privately and together to the word of God, and together and in private responding wholeheartedly. In conclusion I should like to indicate a fundamental criterion by which the authenticity of faith-growth and spiritual discernment must. always be measured. The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who lis-tens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can discern the word and will of the Lord mani-fested to ,him, he must respond with all the Pauline "obedience of faith." Obedience always implies an attitude of listening, signified by the Latin ob-audire and Greek hupo-akouo. It is the attitude of receptivity, passivity, and poverty of one who is always in need, radically dependent, con-scious of his creaturehood. Freedom, faith-growth, and spiritual maturity must always begin with fundamental obedience to the Lord's laws, directives, and providence for the individual and the community. The evolution of faith to spiritual adulthood is measured not by neglecting or escaping these basic divine dispositions so as to be no longer bound by them, but rather by transcending external laws and prescriptions so as to be bonnd more deeply and intimately by the greater demands of an internal law uttered in the heart. One is always bound by general law and principle and by external authority legitimately exercised, but one can transcend this dimension as the motive of response to the Lord to the degree that one can discern and obey the internal law of love imprinted in the heart by the Spirit, establishing the new covenant announced by Jeremiah 31:31 ft. Bound by external law and authority, our faith-growth consists in being moved by the internal: "Caritas Christi urget nosl" No internal discernment of the Lord's will and vocation is valid if it disobeys or degtroys the Lord's external dispositions exercised by legitimate auo thority and institution. There is only one Spirit breath-ing on many levels where and how He wills. The authentic maturity of faith by spiritual discern-anent will manifest itself in a fourfold reconciliation of man, matching the fourfold human conflict introduced by man's primitive disobedience: a reconciliation (1) with the Lord in a Spirit of prayerful sonship crying "Abba," (2) within oneself by the peace that replaces the shame of guilt, (3) with one's neighbor by the love that replaces anger and fear, (4) and with ktisis or physical creation by a resurrection. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 ". . 595 BERNARD LEE, S~M. The Spring Wants to Come: A Study in Community ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard Lee, S.M., is on the fac-ulty of St. Mary's High School; 4701 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 6311 I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 Introduction I had originally intended to cast these introductory remarks into footnotes in very brief form. But a discus-sion and very helpful critique with members of my communi.ty suggested the importance of beginning with two observations that appear necessary for keeping the discussion in the" right context. The first point is this: what the article is not is a comparison between art and community life in which certain aesthetic principles are analogically applied to community. Beauty is a transcendental, and it is a real characteristic-of all that is. There are degrees of beauty and kinds of beauty. It can be recognized and experi-enced. Like many of the practical items we use and need, community is a practical response to a need: psychologi-cal needs stemming from our social nature, pragmatic needs for coping with the world around us. But over and above this, both the practical items and the practical community are capable of being works of art, pieces of beauty, as well. The application of asesthetic principles to community life is, therefore, a direct application of principles that are, in the philosophical sense, proper to it. This second introductory remark might seem a bit academic for the discussion that follows. But it has to do with basic presuppositions that govern the thought of the article. The characterization of beauty that I use is based very much upon the thgught of Alfred North Whitehead, the whole of his thought, but in particular his treatment of beauty in Adventure of Ideas. What is presumed is a world of reality whose nature is to be in process. Process is at the heart of the way things are. Process is reality. And an important qualifidation of this process is that it is evolutionary; it is directed to the creation of higher: forms and modes of existence. In Aristotelian thought the possibility of changing neces-sarily implies imperfection: "All change is by its nature an undoing" (Physics, IV, 222b). But in process philos-ophy, change is actually constitutive of reality. Becoming is no longer inferior to being. This obviously affects a philosophy of beauty--and therefore a philosophy of community--because process will be constitutive of beauty as well as of being. This is not the place to attempt a further characteri-zation of process philosophy. May I instead retommend the brief but superb introduction Charles Hartshorne wrote for Browning's Philosophers of Process, and the excellent second part of Eulalio Baltazar's Teilhard and the Supernatural which treats in more detail "The Phi-losophy of Process." The implications of all ttiis for theology and spirituality are immense--so immense that it almost seems ludicrous to toss off the observation so casually. I would like to conclude these introductory re-marks with some lines from Rilke: What keeps you from projecting His birth into times That are in the process of becoming, And living your life Like a painful and beautiful day In the history of a great gestation? For do you not see How everything that happens Keeps on being a beginning Since beginning is in itself Always so beautiful?. These very days Of your transition Are perhaps the time When everything in you Is working at him. And think that the least We can do is to make His becoming Not more difficult for Him Than theearth ¯ Makes its for the Spring When it wants to come. --Rainer Maria Rilke Community The history of humanity is the history of an evolution towards a more finely wrought community. The evolu-tion is not unmarked by failures, neither in the past nor now. But progress has been steady. And higher com-munity has normally been achieved when the demands 4, 4, ÷ Community VOLUME 27, 597 ÷ ÷ Bernar~ I=~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 of new social conditions have been responded to crea-tively. Today is a day of new demands, and we are on the verge of higher community if we can bring to those demands an adequately creative response. The movement towards the perfection of community has always been a part of human history, but a new inner urgency is communicated to the movement in Christ who calls men to brotherhood in God's love: "This solidarity must be constantly increased until that day on which it will be brought to perfection. Then, saved by grace, men will offer flawless glory to God as a family beloved of God and of Christ their brother" (gaudium et spes, § 32). In this discussion we would like to deal with the dynamics of building community. And here dynamics must bear the full weight of its meaning; for the evolutionary nature of community among men neces-sarily implies movement and change, trial and error, mutual tensions and continual interactions. The para-dox is that these factors are not manifestations of rest-lessness and caprice, but are the only basis for in-tensified solidarity. There are many valid points of departure for a dis-cussion of community. Our point of departure Will be aesthetic. It is peculiar to man, of all earth's creatures, to recognize beauty, to be moved and exhilarated by it. Because the quest for beauty and the response to it are both deeply human and deeply humanizing, we ought to be conscious of the beauty of community life that we work towards. We must even make that beauty a conscious aim--for it goes way beyond simply making community through the common task of meeting practi-cal exigencies; it calls us to create community. Throughout this discussion we will be thinking es-pecially of "community" in religious life. But the prin-ciples should be valid and operative within any social structure. The plan of this discussion is as follows. We will first talk about beauty and the degrees of harmony that mark it (and also that mark community life). Then we will try to show how greater intensity is possible in beauty (and how this is related to the perfection of community life). Then, from the psychological point of view of man's enjoyment of beauty, we will discuss the "move-ment" that is demanded by human appreciation of beauty (and the "movement" that is demanded for a constant human satisfaction with community life). I can recall having been asked for a reaction to some piece of architecture or other, and having replied that while I didn't really think it was great, it was at least pleasing and didn't jar. That something "isn't jarring" is an acknowledgement of at least a minor form of beauty, an absence of elements that would disturb the harmony. There are many elements in an art work (color in painting, rhythm, tone, and harmony in music) that might be independently quite pleasing, but which to-gether in certain combinations inhibit beauty. It is pos-sible to juxtapose two brilliant colors so that when they are together the b,rillance of neither comes through fully, though alone each would be striking. In this case there is a mutual inhibition that keeps either color from rising to the strength proper to it. It is likewise possible in music to counter two rhythms ~o each other in suchwise that neither is discernible; of course, a counterplay of two rhythms might well put each of the rhythms in bolder relief and make them easier to ap-preciate. In the first case, the mutual incompatibility of two rhythms is not only inhibitive of beauty, the two elements are actually destructive of each other. A minor form of beauty, oi: pleasingness, then, consists in the absence of elements that are either destructive of one another, or that keep each other from rising to the strength proper to each. This same aesthetique applies to community. When the fact of community is the result of the juxtaposition. of certain individuals within the same house, and not much more than that, the minor form of beauty just described.is probably the limit of communitarianbeauty available. There is a certain smoothness and harmony that results from not having personalities that are to-tally incompatible, and from having personalities that are enough alike (or have been made so by the repres-sion of differences) that they do not inhibit each other member from "being himself." The walls of a living room may be painted a 'very pleasing color and may provide quite a satis[actory experience. But if the walls are done in several colors, and if furnishings are chosen which blend and con-trast, much attention has to be given to composition. Two colors which cannot be tolerated next to each other might, in composition with a third and fourth color, give a heightened aesthetic experience not possible with the minor beauty of the one-color room. For this height-ened aesthetic experience derived from a contrast of contents, composition becomes increasingly important. For each element must stand in relation to every other element as well as to the whole. This is the only con-dition under which different elements can, by virtue of their very differences, not simply coexist juxtaposed, but become a truly powerful experience together. And there is a corollary to this. Not only does the individual element help heighten the aesthetic value of the compo- + + ÷ Community VOLUME 27, ~.968 ,599 + 4. 4. Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sition as a whole, but the whole itself ~s a setting for the individual element enhances the individual element. The whole uses and profits from that which is most unique in the individual element. It is what is different about this individual element that heightens the effect" of good composition. But that difference only becomes valuable and desirable in this setting of effective con-trast. Alone it is. well, just different. Again, ~his aesthefique applies to community living. A more intense community experience is possible through effective contrasts of personalities. This can only be a reality if ther6 is a community consciousness directed toward the creation of such a "composition." A minor form of beauty attained simply through the absence of jarring elements does not put upon "relationship" the premium it has in the heightened aesthetic experience towards which we work. "Relationship" is the basis of composition, and it requires conscious and deliberate effort to bring it off. By conscious effort we cannot mean a belabored preoccupation with improving or building interpersonal bonds--that is almost doomed to failure by the artificiality that would destroy what can only be fully natural, or else not be at all. But it does mean being quite conscious of the fact that differ-ences between us are the seed of greater community beauty. It does mean consciously and openly and hon-estly dealing with differences rather than shu~ing them under the carpet in favor of a minor and easier harmony. It is from the very desirable (and often painful) per-sonal confrontations in view of differences that such consciousness occasions interpersonal relationships really happening, and "composition" really occurring. And be-cause we are human beings, something happens in the composition of good community that does not happen in the'composition of good art: we individual elements have to stretch ourselves intellectually, socially, emo-tionally, psychologically, to contain the contrasts of our community. But what grow.th! And growing pains too. Only a community like this can address itself to the yearning of the contemporary man who wants to be where the personal identity he has worked so hard foI is 'appreciated and desired. He wants to be part of a community that challenges him to become and, in be-coming, to be his unique self. Only an aesthetique of striving for great communitarian beauty can provide for a whole that frames rather than swallows individuality. A beautiful nature scene which is exciting on a 16mm screen might well be overwhelming on the Cinerama screen. This introduces a new consideration into our discussion of beauty. There is something about the hu-man spirit, perhaps allied to the appetite for tran- scendence, that makes it reach out for what is grand. "A man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?" Traditionally, being big-souled is being virtuous: magnanimity. In our aesthetic satisfaction there is a certain proper kind of intensity just in comparative magnitude. Nor is this to devalue the beauty of small delicate things--there are beautiful things that would suffer violence in enlargement. Yet it does remain true that sheer magnitude awakens the human spirit and issues a call to it to be likewise grand. This is as true of the aesthetic exlSerience as of other realms of our. ex-perience. Let us again apply our aesthetique to community life. Perhaps we should begin with the acknowledgement that there is a kind of intensity in the relationship between two friends that cannot be enlarged to a whole com-munity- this would be a naive aim. Yet on the other hand, there is a magnificence in the spirited unity of a large community that is an inspiration to behold, and that is an even greater inspiration to be part of. There is a strength and a power in such a unity. Of course, in speakirig of comparative magnitude as adding strength to beauty, we mean not sheer size alone, but one that is marked by the aesthetic qualities we dis-cussed already. The final point in our discussion of the qualities of aesthetic perfection has to do with variety of detail. Variety of detail can be worked at in many ways. The baroque and rococo are not our ways. But variety is im-portant even in an age that wants its architecture to have a naked beauty often drawn from nothing more or less than the unadorned structural elements. Variety of detail, then, is not extravagance. It is variation and contrast that, from a negative point of v.iew, prevents monotony and boredom; and, from a positive point of view, adds interest and excitement. This aesthetic qual-ity is somewhat akin to the previous one we spoke of. There is a grandeur in variety of detail. Mere variety is not the point; the variety must be well composed so that the contrast is effective. But all else being equal, variety of detail does add an aesthetic perfection. And, of course, variety exacts a keener attention to insure such an ef-fective composition. It doesn't just happen. Effective unity does not just happen in a community marked by a great variety of temperaments and per-sonalities. It can only be brought about by careful and patient care. Again, that must be conscious effort. It cannot happen unless a community has decided that it wills to work for a greater degree of communitarian beauty and then has begun the communitarian creativity which alone can bring it off. + ÷ ÷ Community ¯ VOLUME 27, 1968 601 Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 At this point something should be said about discord and disharmony, about their positive worth and de-sirability, or rather, about the circumstances in which they are desirable. Effective contrast of different elements makes possible a higher form of beauty. It is discord which makes known the fact that different elements are present which have not been unified in effective contrast. It is dis-cord, then, that points a finger to the spot where at-tention is needed, where effective relating is needed, to incorporate these different elements into a community which will be richer for having taken them unto its own. Even if the minor forms of communitarian beauty have been attained quite well, it is probably humanly im-possible to move to a higher form based on effective contrast without experiencing discord. The discord must be expected. It must be welcomed as the herald of something better to come if it can be dealt with openly and sincerely. And it must not linger to haunt the new unity when it is born. In music the transition from a single tone into a harmony might well--and often does--pass through an intermedi~i(e disharmony. That disharmony often serves to heighten the experience of a ricli harmony which it (even in its split second existence) teased us into yearn-ing for. The application to many of the disharmonies of community life is obvious enough to need no com-mentary. Thus far we have discussed, from a somewhat philo-sophical point of view, the qualities of what is beauti-ful, the qualities which occasion the aesthetic experience for the human spirit. We would like to turn now to the human spirit~ and from that point of view discuss one further factor of prime i.importance in'our experience of beauty. So let us speak of the human spirit. There is a certain restlessness that makes it tire'of repetition. Even if it ha~ accommodated itself to the ease of repetition, it is un-likely that much of the deeper yearning of the human spirit can thus be satisfied. It can at best be anaesthe-tized. Clumsily but accurately rendered, the word "an-aesthetized" means unbeautied, deadened to the aes-thetic. Even beauty can anaesthetize when it is endlessly repeated in the same form. "Perfection will not bear the tedium of indefinite repetition" (Whitehead). To sus-tain the ardor of aesthetic enjoyment requires a con-stant' search for new perfection. Sometimes the new perfection need not even be a higher one, only an equal perfection. The new experience keeps the spirit aes-thetically intent, alive, and active. Change for the sake of change is capricious. But change, even when the practical situation does not de-mand it, even when the new thing is not an improve-ment, may still be quite desirable if it can sustain the intensity of our aesthetic experience of communitarian beauty. We must emphasize again that conscious recog-nition of striving for communitarian beauty as it has been described is a necessary context for welcoming change and movement and variation. Outside of this context, the change that is not pragmatically necessary is indeed obnoxious. If a com.munity has opted to strive for higher forms o[ beauty in its life together, the element of change needs attention; but to some extent it will take care of itself. The texture of a community changes with every personnel change. The addition or subtraction 6f even one member is bound to affect the quality of a com-munity that has determined its "composition" in view of each unique individual member, ff one member o~ a community has grown and been enriched through per-sonal, experience, the community grows too and accom-modates itself to the new experience within it. In this way each community should have a personality of its own, a beauty of its own that is particular to this com-munity because it is composed of these unique, indi-vidual persons. To the extent that communities have not achieved a beauty characteristic of each, one com-munity will look quite the same as any other. And per-haps we should be reminded here by Bishop Robinson that God is as much in the rapids as in the rocks. Nor is all of this discussion without import for that celebration of community which is the Eucharist. We h~ve probably all reflected how daily repetition of Mass ~can weaken the quality of our experience of it. I think we salve the situation too unctuously by countering that the eye of faith sees behind any possible tedium in the daily repetition. Mass is not simply the presence of God through the signs of bread and wine; the full symbol is the community that is gathered there to further in-tensify its unity in the breaking of one bread and the sharing of a Common cup. Because each community is-- or should be--unique, it must vitalize its celebration of the Eucharist by finding ways of expressing its unique-ness (and thus its beauty) in Mass, for this is how the community offers to God what is most beautiful to Him. The dynamic interaction of individuals in community is constantly modifying the texture of community, be it ever so little. There is, then, the challenge always to find new ways of offering God the new beauties that come to be in our midst, the new Beauties that ARE our Midst. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~,ommunity VOLUME 27, 1968 603 JOHN COWBURN, S.J. The Analogy of Religious Authority and Obedience ÷ ÷ ÷ John Cowburn, s.J., is a faculty member at Loyola College; Watsonia, Victoria S087; Aus-tralia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In discussions of authority it is sometimes assumed, I think, that the authority of a father over his children is the first experienced and universally understood form of authority, and that all other forms of authority are ultimately analogous to it. On the basis of these as-sumptions, then, other forms of authority are explained by comparing them with this primordial form: God's authority over us is explained as being that of a father; the pope is called the Holy Father, bishops are told to be like fathers to their priests and people, pastors like fathers to their parishioners, and religious superiors like fathers and mothers to their subjects; and secular rulers, too, are thought to be like fathers to their subjects. On the other hand, it has been maintained that every form of authority is completely sui generis, so that argu-ments a pari from one form to another are never valid; or that, whatever may be said about secular forms of authority, at any rate the kinds of authority found in the Church are not analogous to natural forms, so that it is not really enlightening to compare them with these. Since, however, theology continually presupposes that analogy is possible and that one can argue by means of it, and since the. gospel has always been preached with the aid of analogies, it is surely reasonable to suppose that analogy can be used in discussions of authority. And if this is agreed on, perhap~ it can also be agreed that the family is the fundamental human society, that all forms of authority are ultimately analogous to forms of au-, thority found in the family, and that reflection on au-thority and obedience as they are exercised there can be helpful for an understanding of the nature of religious authority (not to mention other forms) and of the way in which it ought to be exercised. What I wish to question, however, is that this means that all authority, including that of the religious superior, is analogous to that of a father over his children--but I anticipate. Authority in the Family A family, surely, should not be seen simply as a group of people one of whom has authority over all the others. Rather, it should' be seen as constituted by two different relationships, or kinds of relationship: there is the re-lationship which binds the husband and wife to each other, and there are the relationships which bind the parents to the children and the children to the parents. Both these relationships involve authority on one side, and the.~recognition of that authority, or obedience, on the other: a husband is the head of the couple formed by his wife and himself, and she promises to love, honor and obey him; and of course parents have authority over their children, who owe them obedience. However, I suggest that we find here two distinct kinds of au-thority and obedience, and that reflection quickly shows that there are radical differences between them.1 Firstly, children do not choose to enter a family and they do not choose their parents, but a woman chooses. to marry and to become the wife of this man rather than of any other. The authority of parents over their chil-dren, then, is not given to them by the children, whereas a husband obtains authority over his wife when she freely gives it to him. The facts, that a woman cannot marry a man without giving him authority over her and that the authority once given may not arbitrarily be taken back do not affect the contention that one of the relationships is constituted by the free consent of both parties and the other is not. Secondly, one relationship is essentially between two adults, whereas the other is essentially between adults and children. If this were not obvious already, it could be shown by stating that a woman cannot marry until she is capable of making freely an important decision that will affect her whole life, that is, until she is no longer a child. Thirdly, in a normal family the parents are superior to their children in knowledge, understanding, wisdom, ¯ common sense, fortitude, and almost every other respect, and the lack of these qualities in children is the reason why they are subject to their parents in the way they are. In a normal family, however, the husband and wife are much more nearly equal in human qualities than par-x I have made this contention in The Person and Love (New York: Alba House, 1968), p. 157. (The English edition, published in London by Geoffrey Chapman, is called Love and the Person.) + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 605 ÷ ÷ 1ohn Cowburn, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g ents and children are; indeed, if there is very great in-equality a true marriage is virtually impossible. And if in a normal family the husband is usually somewhat older than his wife and in some respects superior to her, this is not the reason why he has authority over her, as is shown by the wives who are actually superior to their husbands in intelligence and other human qualities and who nevertheless give them obedience. That is, if one asks in general why children are always under someone's dominion the answer is that they are incapable of being left in charge of themselves. If, however, one asks why most women are under the dominion of husbands, the answer is not that. It is, one supposes, that for the unity of a couple it is necessary that one partner be the leader and that the other--who, if she were living alone, would be quite capable of looking after herself--accept his leadership. Fourthly, the authority of parents over their children is transient, whereas that of husband over wife is perma-nent. The authority of parents over their children is greatest when the children are small; as they grow up it lessens; eventually, it ceases--for although adults respect their parents they do not strictly speaking owe them obedience. In contrast to this, the authority of husband over wife is constant and permanent. Fifthly, it would be abnormal for a grown person to obey his parents just as he did when he was a child; and to train anyone to obey in this way all his life would be to prevent him from achieving maturity. But it is per-fectly normal for a mature woman to recognize her husband's authority--indeed, to be unwilling to accept or acknowledge this kind of authority would, generally speaking, be a sign of immaturity--and a married woman achieves maturity and fulfillment partly by schooling herself to give recognition and willing obedi-ence to her husband. Sixthly, in both cases the exercise of authority and the obedience are expressions of love: a man gives himself to his wife partly by assuming responsibili.ty for her welfare, with the authority that that responsibility car-ries with it, and she gives herself to him in accepting him as head; and parents express their love for their children by not letting them run wild but authoritatively con-trolling their development, while children show their loving acceptance of their parents by obeying them. However, conjugal love and parental-filial love are surely different in kind; and so the authority and obedi-ence in which they are expressed are also different in kind. We come, th(n, to this conclusion: in a family there are two radically.different kinds of authority and obedio ence. In previous ages, I suppose, people would have disagreed with this by maintaining that the authority of husband over wife is not essentially different from that of father over children. When fathers retained their authority over their daughters .not until these were twenty-one but until they were married; and when fathers chose husbands for their daughters and then led the girls to the altar where they handed them over to the bridegrooms; then it seemed to everyone that it was from her father that a man obtained his authority over his wife, and so it was supposed that his authority was essentially of the same kind as that which the father had had, and men supposed that their wives and children were all subject to their authority in much the same way. Today, however, disagreement with my thesis is likely to take a very different form, for it is now being said that husbands do not have real authority over their wives, and that wives do not strictly speaking owe obedi-ence to their husbands. It is, says Julian Gosling, very unnatural and misleading to describe in terms of "au-thority" and "obedience" the relationship between hus-gand and wife, given that the wife has the right and duty to enter fully with her husband into discussion of any decisions that are to be made.~ But discussion is in-compatible with authority and obedience only if these are understood in a very restricted way; and since even today a husband is in some. sense the head or leader of the couple, it seems reasonable to continue to talk Of con-jugal authority and obedience--provided that these are sharply distinguished from parental authority and filial obedience. Religious Obedience Let us now put the question: to which of these two kinds of authority is that of the religious superior analo-gous? Well, firstly, a person is a Christian by virtue of his own free option, and he is a religious by virtue of a choice which in a sense is even more free, since there is" no obligation to make it. If these facts were once ob-scured, when people thought they were Catholics be-cause they were born citizens of Catholic countries br members of Catholic families, while some people~ were religious because their parents had given them into religion at an early age, they are now very clear. Secondly, the relationship between religious superior and subject i~ essentially between two adults, since a person taking religious vows is presumed to be mature "Rhetoric and Marriage," Month, January, 1967, p. 29. + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 607 enough to do so. Moreover, many reli, gious superiors are younger than some of their subjects. Thirdly, the precise reason why in religious orders. there are superiors and subjects is not that the superiors have knowledge and virtue,' while the subjects are stupid and irresponsible. It may well be that on the average those who are superiors are more gifted than those who are subjects, but if all were equally intelligent and prudent it would still be necessary for religious com-munities to have superiors. Fourthly, the state of religious obedience is not tran-sient, extending only over a period of growth, but life-long. 'Fifthly, if the authority of a religious superior were thought of as being analogous to that of a father over his children, then it would be implied that either the subjects ought to live all their lives in a situation which. is abnormal for mature persons, or else that once they have finished their training they can reasonably consider that they have outgrown obedience, strictly so called, and claim a very large measure of independence. If, however, it is thought of as being analogous to conjugal authority, then obedience presents itself as quite con-sonant with personal maturity; indeed, it becomes rea-sonably easy to see how a religious can achieve personal fulfillment and maturity partly by schooling himself to give recognition and willing obedience to a superior. The conclusion seems inescapable: religious authority and obedience are analogous to conjugal authority and obedience rather than to parental authority and filial obedience,a But is this theologically sound? Firstly, it is traditional doctrine that a religious ought to see Christ in his su-perior. But Christ, surely, was Master to the Apostles and He is our Lord, Master, friend, brother or spouse; but He was not their father and He is not ours. It seems, then, entirely in accord with this traditional doctrine to say that a religious superior is lord or master of his subjects in the way that a husband is the head of a couple, and not in the way that a father is in authority over his children.4 However, secondly, it is also tradi-÷ ÷ ÷ .lohn Cowburn, $o~o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 s Karl Rahner says that religious obedience is not analogous to that of children because this is (1) based on lack of knowledge and responsi-bility in the child as compared with the parents; (2) temporary, having as its aim its own eventual disappearance; (3) given by nature, not chosen by personal election ("A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflec-tions on Obedience," Woodstock Letters, v. 86 [1957], pp. 293--4). This is exactly what I maintain, but Rahner does not develop an alterna-tive analogy. ~ Dora Olivier Rousseau writes that St. Benedict "would have the subject see Christ himself in his Abbot with whom he lives con-stantly: Christi enim agere vices in monasterio creditur [abbas]" tional to compare a religious superior to a father or mother. Could it be that this was simply because it was assumed that paternal authority is the basic form of authority to which all other authority---including con-jugal authority--is analogous; and if this assumption is modified, so may the traditional comparison be cor-rected? Some authors begin by affirming that all authority is analogous to that of a father over his children, but they then go on to point out how vastly different is the authority of a religious superior from that of a parent and end by virtually denying their original affirmation.5 It seems more consistent to suppose that all authority is analogous either to that of a father over his children or to that of a husband over his wife; one can then deny that there is any analogy between a religious superior and a parent without coming into conflict with one's own supposition. Qualifications Firstly, let it be clearly stated that, as with every analogy, there are differences between the terms under comparison. The husband-wife relationship is sexual, which the superior-subject one is not. A husband has only one wife, whereas a religious superior may have many subjects. In most religious orders, superiors are regularly changed, as husbands are not. And so on. Secondly, to say that religious authority is analogous to that of a husband is not to say all that can be said about it. That is, this article makes a point about re-ligious authority but does not attempt to give a com-plete account of it. Thirdly, in all I have been saying I have been con-sidering the normal case, which is that of a superior and a formed religious, rather than that of a superior and a religious who is still in training. In his early years a religious is perhaps something of a child in his order, learning the elements of religious life, and the au-thority of superiors over him has something of a pa- (Introduction to Obedience [London: Blackfriars, 1953], p. 15). "The abbot," Dora Olivier then goes on to say as if it followed naturally, "ought to be the father of his community." But this, surely, is pre-cisely what does not follow from St. Benedict's principle. ~ For instance, Desmond F. McGoldrick ~ays that the prototype of "dominative power" is that of parents in the home; but he then--and this is what seems to me to be somewhat inconsistent--plays down and even denies any analogy between a parent and a religious superior (Fostering Development [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], pp. 77-8); and he says: "The attitude which an enlightened Superior should not use towards the other members of the Community is that of the parent-child relationship. She is not a parent; her subjects are not children" (ibid., p. 151). + + + Authority. and Obedience VOLUME 27, lO68 609 ÷ ÷ John Cowbu~n, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6111 rental character; but, firstly, this is plainly not the case to have in mind when working out a theory of religious authority and obedience, hnd, secondly, the authority of stiperiors over subjects in their years of formation ought even then to be mainly "conjugal" and it ought grad-ually to lose its partly parental character as the subject develops. Practical Implications The thesis maintained above has certain practical implications. Firstly, there is frequently a certain "distance" between parents and children, and some fathers even deliberately maintain a degree of aloofness from their children. Also, some political and military leaders, understanding their authority to be quasi-paternal, have quite deliberately kept aloof from their subjects, and they have incited their subjects to think of them as mysterious, superior beings, to be almost worshipped from afar below, and to be obeyed without question in all things. But since no husband should be aloof from his wife, no religious su-perior should be distant from his subjects or use mys-terious aloofness as a device for obtaining unquestioning obedience. Secondly, parents usually call their children by their Christian names or family nicknames, whereas children call their parents by some respectful form of address such as "Father," "Mother," or abridgements of these; but husbands and wives use reciprocal forms of address towards each other. Also, children are frequently taught to adopt a respectful posture when addressing their parents or other adults, at least when asking for some-thing or "being spoken to"; but wives do not as it were stand to attention when a.ddressing their husbands or being addressed by them. It would, then, seem to be nor-mal for a religious to address his superior in much the same way as he would address the same man if he were not the superior--which in many cases means his Chris-tain name, his name in the order, o~ his nickname if he has one. Thirdly, it frequently happens that parents~if one may put it this way--live more expensively than their children do. They do not, for instance, give to their children as much money to spend .on an outing as they themselves would spend; and if from time to time they entertain friends at restaurants they do not make it pos-sible for their children to'entertain thdir friends at those same restaurants. Similarly, in many armies the officers have a higher standard of living than the men. But husbands and wives share and share alike. Of course, it may sometimes happen that a man has an expensive business lunch while his wife, in town for the day, is having a cheap lunch at a department-store cafeteria; but in general they have the same standard of living. Just so, in a religious community superiors and subjects share and share alike, and superiors do not, because they are superiors, have a higher standard of room furni-ture, dress, means of transport, and so on. Fourthly, parents do not ordinarily bring their chil-dren fully into their consultations, but find it su~cient to give them some sort of explanation of whatever de-cisions have been made which affect them, after they have been made. Children for their part exercise filial obedience by trusting their parents and accepting their decisions without argument. Between husbands and wives, however, full consultation is the rule. It may oc-casionally happen that a man must make some decision without consulting his wife, because he is not given enough time to get in touch with her, because the de-cision involves some information which he is obliged to keep secret even from her, or for some other reason; but such an action must be seen as exceptional and in need of a good reason to justify it. In normal circumstances it would be positively wrong for a husband to take an important decision without genuine consultation with his wife--and this means listening to her really seri-ously- for she has a right to be consulted; and for that matter it would be wrong for her to refuse to enter .into consultation, for he has a right to her participation in the decision-making and the responsibility that it en-tails. Usually the final result is a decision which they feel comes from both of them-~either a wife or a hus-band will often say "We have decided" to do this or that--and yet from first to last it is understood between them that the husband is the head, and that the final word rests with him. He feels this and accepts the re-sponsibility that it carries with it; the wife feels it, positively wants it, and participates in the discussion, which may become an argument, in such a way as never to challenge her husband's position but rather always to maintain him in it. In view of this we may perhaps sum up a good deal that is being said about the need for dialogue between religious superiors and their subjects by saying that in the past religious superiors often acted as if they were parents and as if their subjects were children, whereas the superior-subject relationship ought to be modeled on that of husband and wife. That is, in the past superiors did not bring the majority of their subjects into their consultations and merely announced decisions to their subjects after they were made, sometimes adding a brief explanation; and subjects exercised a filial obedience by + + + ,Authority and° Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 611 trusting their superiors and accepting without argument the decisions they made. Now, however, it is everywhere being said that the fullest possible sharing of informa-tion ought to be the rule. Also, while there are times when general discussion is impossible and when su-periors are fully justified in acting on their own, it should be seen as exceptional and as only justified when there are good reasons, for superiors to act without prior consultation of their communities.6 That is, the re-sponsibility for the right government of a community and the carrying out of its work should be shared by all its members--and yet it must be clearly understood and willed by all that the superior is the head of the com-munity, with real authority over its members. In conclusion it might be said, firstly, that present developments are sometimes described--by both those who favor them and those who oppose them--as amount-ing to a change from monarchical to democratic govern-ment in religious orders. It seems better, however, to look for analogies in the family rather than in the po-litical arena, because the family is the fundamental ' human society and also because in the family authority and obedience both plainly spring from love, as they do in the Church. Secondly, it might be said that those who think of the religious superior as essentially analo-gous to a father or mother inevitably see in contemporary developments a weakening of religious authority. If, how- .ever~ they can accept the proposition that the relation-ship between superior and subject is not'as a rule anal-ogous to the parent-child relationship but to the husband-wife relationship, then they will see that con-temporary developments are tending to realize the true nature of religious authority and obedience,, not to weaken them. o Particularly significant, perhaps, is the suggestion which is being made in various quarters that information about the finances of a house and even of a province or an entire order should be made avail-. able to all members of the house, province, or order; for parents do not normally tell their children how much money they have or keep them informed about income and expenses, whereas modern husbands do normally share this information with their wives and discuss finan-cial problems with them. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER M. RUTH FOX, O.S.B. PrOviding an Atmosphere for Personality Growth in the Postulancy Religious life* has long been regarded by many as a mode of living almost wholly distinct from human life. Religious men and women were often in the past looked upon as creatures set apart to live an angelic life, a life free of all that was naturally human. They actually tried to live this way and tried to form the candidates to this life in the same manner. That is, the candidates were put into a mold when they entered the postulancy, and they spent their lifetime assimilating this mold into their very being. This procedure turned out molded religious who were not angelic nor human--nor happy. Today, however, we once again realize the basic Christian belief that our human nature is the greatest natural gift we have. It is to be enhanced, not destroyed, during our temporal life. Therefore, it does not matter what specific work or way of life we undertake, we all have a vocation to be human first of all. We cannot be Christian, much less religious, unless we are first of all human. This realization is especially important for those re-ligious who have the responsibility of "formation" in their communities. These sisters have been entrusted with the growth and maturity of not one but many human personalities. They should .be aware that it is possible in the first years of religious life to completely stunt the natural personality growth of the candidates. * This article was written with the help and supervision of Leo R. Kennedy, Ph.D., Chairman of the Department of Psychology, Creigh-ton University, Omaha. Dr. Kennedy; who has given professional service to many religious communities of men and women, encouraged the publishing of the article in the hopes that the suggestions con-tained in it would be implemented in Sister Formation prggrams. ÷ ÷ ÷ : Sister M. Ruth Fox, O.S.B., is the postulant directress at Sacred Heart Pri-ory; Richardton, North Dakota 58652. VOkUME 27~ 1968 613 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 But on the other hand, it is also possible, and impera-tive, to accept the human personality and to help it grow to its fullest capacity.1 In order to help the postulants achieve a mature per-sonality, the directress must first be aware of the char-acteristics of these young women o{ the 1960's. She should also have a kn6wledge of the process of per-sonalit) growth and the means to encourage proper growth. These topics will be discussed in this article. Who are these young women that come to the postu-lancy in 1968-69? Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties; therefore, they belong to a class of our society commonly called young adults. They are no longer adolescents or teen-agers, or at least they are in the last stages of that group. But neither are they adults. So the postulant directress cannot base her guidance of them on either adolescent or adult psychology exclu-sively, but must choose from both. An excellent way to get to know them is to read current articles written by, on, or for young adults. But the articles must be cur-rent. Even to go back to material written in the 1950's could be detrimental, because our young people have different ways of expressing their needs in the 1960's. Though it is true that the basic needs of human nature do not seem to change, there are certain needs that are either more emphasized now or are expressed differently than they were 5, 10, or 100 years ago. In current writing, today's young adults are classified as the New Breed, the Restless Generation, the Hippies, the Now Generation. But no matter what they are called, their main concerns are fulfillment, personalism, honesty, integrity, authenticity, and love.2 They have been raised in an era of prosperity and plenty. When they ask how to find personal worth, they are only told to take another helping from the silver platter. But they see that materialism does not give any meaning to life. They see the American society as a cold, mechanical, abstract, and emotionally mean-ingless place.3 Because society offers them so little that x W. W. Meissner, S.J., Group Dynamics in the Religious Li/e (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1965) presents a thorough discussion of the community's responsibility to foster growth. ~ See John Evoy, S.J., "How Neurotic is the New Breed?" Catholic Mind, v. 64 (December, 1966), pp. 28-42; Daniel Goulding, "The Rest-less Generation," Vital Speeches ol the Day, v. 32 (1966), pp. 506-508; Andrew Greeley, "A New Breed," America, CX, 21 (1964), pp. 706-709 and "A Farewell to the New Breed," America, CXIV, 23 (1966), pp. 801-804; George Herndl, "Time of the Now Generation," Liberal Education, LIII, 2 (1967); "The Hippies: Philosophy of a Subculture," Time, July 7, 1967, pp. 18-22; Robert Jones, "Man of the Year: The Inheritor," Time, January 6, 1967, pp. 18-23. 3See "Meet the Restless Generation," Changing Times, XXI, 6 (June, 1967), pp. 6-11. is meaningful and relevant, they are often forced into cynicism. But they nonetheless wish they could find val-ues, goals, or institutions to which they could commit themselvesA. They reject formal organization, legalism, and out-moded forms and regulations because these seem to stifle individualism. They want to be concerned with persons as persons.5 Perhaps this accounts for their~ emphasis on love and fulfillment. They desperately want to love and be loved for what they are. But they are afraid they are loved only for what they, do. In fact, they have been raised this way: "Do what I tell you, and I will show you I love.you." So they have no real faith in them-selves as persons, no real proof that they are lovable for what they are. Thus they preach love to the world in a frantic effort to find it in themselves and others. Our young people are deeply committed to decency, tolerance, and brotherhood--not as a goal, but as a reality to be lived now. "This generation has no utopia. Its idea is the happening. Let. it be concrete, let it be vivid, let it be personal. Let it be nowl" n Because tomorrow is so unsure and ever changing, today must be lived to the fullest. Living and experiencing cannot b.e postponed. It must be made to happen now. In summary then, the 1968-69 postulant is a member of the Now Generation who comes to the convent not to be "formed into a religious; she comes to be fulfilled as a person." 7 The goal of fulfillment need not frighten the postu-lant directress if she is aware of the process of per-sonality growth. The fundamental theory that should dominate the planning of formation (or fulfillment) is that the growth and development of the candidate must come from within the person. Growth cannot be di-rected from the outside because each individual must develop in terms of his own inner capacities. "The a~- tempt to produce growth by putting man into a mold or demanding conformity is based on a total misunder-standing of man, of his nature and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is sacrificing the person for the con-venience of the system; it is the mechanizing of man. It is a basic lack of respect for the mystery of the human person." 8 If growth and development are individual inner proc- 4 A good presentation of what youth is looking for is found in Erik Erikson, ed., The Challenge of Youth (New York: Doubleday, 1965). ~ Consult the articles by Andrew Greeley mentioned above. o Jones, p. 20. 7 Sister Miriam Rooney, O.P., "The New Breed Enters the Con-vent," C~;oss and Crown, v. 16 (1964), 397. s Paul D'Arcy and Eugene Kennedy, The Genius o] the Apostolate (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965) p. 5. + ÷ ÷ P o stul ancy " . . VOLUME 27, 1968 615 esses, what is the role of the postulant directress? She must provide the atmosphere in which the maximum growth and development are possible. To do this, she must first of all be aware of the psychological process called ego identity. Although this is a lifelong process in which the self links the past, present, and future into one person, there is a crisis of identity which occurs duri.ng late adolescence. At this time the young person realizes he is leaving the security of childhood and entering the uncertainties of young adulthood. He is wavering be-tween what he was and what he hopes to be.a Thus the postulant is seeking to clarify her understanding of who she is and what her role is to be. She is seeking for a sense of self and self-acceptance. "The adolescent hopes to forge for himself a perspective and direction, to achieve an effective integration out of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adult-hood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosis, psychosis, or delinquent behavior." x0 To help the postulant through this identity crisis, the directress must provide her with acceptance and un-derstanding. Experiencing warm acceptance by impor-tant people in one's life is a prerequisite for knowing and accepting oneself. Obviously the important person in the postulant's life is her directress. So if the postu-lant is to grow, she must know she is loved by her superior. This means that the directress must be warm and loving, not just toward the group but toward each individual in the group. She must take each one into her lieart and really love her. She must be so warm and ac-cepting that the postulant would feel free to confide in her all that she was, is, and hopes to be. Each postulant should realize that she would be loved no matter how many unlovable things she may have done or will do. It is in this atmosphere that the girl can admit and accept her feelings and failures. A person who accepts him-self is also secure enough to accept others. So when each postulant can accept herself and the other postulants, a Christian community of love is. Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 ~ A complete explanation of the identity process is found in Erik Erikson, lnsight and Responsibility (New York: Norton, 1964) and "Identity and the Life Cycle," Psychological Issues, v. I (New York: International Universities Press, 1959), pp. 111-117, by the same au-thor. The application of the process to religious life is found in Walter DeBont, O.P., "Identity Crisis and the Male Novice," Rrw~w roR RELigiOUS, v. 21 (1962), pp. 104-128; Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: Newman, 1964); and Sister Thomas More, C.S.J., "Self Identification and Religious Li~e," in The Retreat Master Faces the Nun in the Modern World, ed. John Powell and others (St. MarTs, Kansas: St. Mary's College, 1965). ~ McLaughlin, p. $4. formed. Having experienced a sense of love and security in the postulancy, the young woman is better prepared to be an apostle of love. Not only should the directress be warm and loving, but the very surroundings in the convent should reflect this feminine warmth. Why can't postulancies (and con-vents) look homey? Warmth and growth would be en-couraged by such things as colorful drapes on the windows; a vase of flowers on the table, pictures '(not just saints!) on the wall, end tables cluttered with cur-rent magazines and newspapers, family photographs on the piano, a knitting bag on the floor. If we have nor-mal healthy conditions, we will. foster normal healthy growth. Many times, normal people leave our convents because they cannot lead abnormal lives in abnormal living conditions. Let's keep the normal ones111 In an atmosphere of warmth and affection, the postu-lant will feel more free to be herself, and her per-sonality will thus grow in a healthful manner. To make her growth and establishment of identity easier, the directress should realize another difficulty that the postu-lant faces. If the girl experienced normal adolescent de-velopment, she probably established a certain sense of identity before her entrance into the convent. She had a secure place in her family and probably had definite responsibilities to fulfill at home. She possessed ~a certain status in her peer group and perhaps held offices of importance in her high school or college. But in entering the religious community, all these former securities and relationships are either greatly modified or broken en-tirely. She is no longer able to live her identity in the same way. Therefore, to give her a sense of security and continuity, couldn't these healthy relationships be al-lowed to continue? The postulant's family was the main environment for her personality growth since birth. Should it suddenly be .discarded as if it were no longer of value? "The breakdown of family ties magnifies the identity crisis." 12 Thus the postulant's family should feel free and welcome to visit her anytime. Frequent letters should be en-couraged. Perhaps she could go home for weddings, graduations, anniversaries, and an occasional weekend. There is no apparent reason for cutting off all ties with her former friends either. Letters should be allowed to come and go without inspection or limitation. As the postulant gets involved with college and new friend- ~ See Eugene Kenned)', M.M., "Differentiated Discipline in the Seminary," National Catholic Education Association Bulletin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), pp. 79--89. m Joseph Simmons, C.S.C., "The Catholic College Student: His War against Protection," Ave Maria, CIV, 16 (October 15, 1966), p. 6. 4. 4- Postulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 617 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR REI;IGIOUS 618 ships, the letters will gradually decrease. Perhaps rthe postulant's closest friends could spend a weekend with her at the convent. (This would not only .be good for ,her, but also for the convent's public relations program.) Discarding uniforms for the postulants might also favor personality growth. If the postulant continues ¯ wearing' the same dresses she wore before entrance, she has another source of security. At a time when many former securities are left behind, this will give her a sense of identity with her past. It might also help to abolish the notion that "the habit makes the nun." Such a notion is harmful because the postulant may ex-pect the uniform to produce automatic changes in her behavior. She is thus disappointed in herself and in the life when she discovers that she remains the same per-son. Perhaps there is a reason for the donning of a habit at the time of reception into the ,novitiate or at profes-sion of vows. But it seems that at this time of identity crisis, the postulant would be "more secure in her own clothing. Obedience also poses a problem for the directress and the postulants. Today's youth feel that obedience de-stroys their freedom and perhaps smothers their in-dividual identity. They will ordinarily not refuse to obey; but before carrying out a command, they want to sit down and discuss th~ "why" of it with the superior. This is not to be taken as disrespect or unwillingness to obey. They only wish to obey in a more human manner by understanding what they are doing.13 When they un-derstand, they are able to commit themselves to the deed in a responsible manner. If the directress can find no r~asonable answer to the postulant's question, "Why should I~do this?" perhaps it should not be done. Even occasional rebellion on the part of an individual may be a healthy assertion of self. Though often referred to as obedience, strict ad-herence to rules and schedules is frequently an escape from responsible, decision making. Directresses should provide as many opportunities as possible for the postu-lants to make their own decisions. It is difficult to see how this can be accomplished if every minute of the day is scheduled for the girls. Other college girls of their age devise their own schedules. They decide the times to study, to write letters, to ~lean their rooms, to retire. A postulant- will soon learn that if she spends all her study time reading novels or watching TV, she will begin to fail in her college classes. She learns this through per-sonal expgrience the hard way. But this is much more ~ See Stafford Poole, C.M., "The New Breed and the Old Semi-nary," Jubilee, XIII, 2 (June, 1965), pp. 8-13. effective in producing healthy growth in responsibility than if she were simply told the first night in the con-vent: "We study from 8:00 to I0:00 every night." The minimizing of rules and scheduled living is not a relaxation. It is just putting responsibility where it be-longs, on the person. It is changing enforced discipline to self-discipline. Related to rules and schedules is the assignment of household chores such as cleani.ng, ironing, and washing dishes. It is certainly profitable for all members of a community to participate in keeping house. These tasks should be looked upon as means of serving the other members o[ the community. Again, as much initiative as possible should be left to the girls in deciding when and how to do the work. They could also decide among themselves who would do what, and how often they wanted to exchange tasks. These are just a few of the small but important ways in which postulants can be encouraged to grow in maturity. "When we take youngsters out of high school who are still adolescents--a rebellious stage, still longing for adult status--and never let them get a taste of what it means to be an adult, what can we expect but that they will be unhappy subjects." 14 Too often, our candi-dates are not only kept in adolescence, but are even thrown back to childhood. We can help them grow into adulthood simply by giving them trust and responsi-bility. 15 However, there is really not much initiative and re-sponsibility involved in pushing a broom, and a young woman's need for self-actualization is not met in this way. College girls of our day see themselves as creative and productive, and they have great social concern.1~ They want challenging and difficult work with little intervention from others. If they are not stimulated in this direction, they may withdraw into themselves or develop other signs of maladjustment. If we wish to have zealous sisters, we must not let this youthful enthusiasm of the postulant wither while she is busy writing term papers and wiping dishes. Since she is a member of the Now Generation, she wants to do something meaningful for others now. She wants to undertake a task where there is a definite need for her services and self. In doing a~ John Evoy, S.J., and Van Cristoph, S.J., Personality Development in the Religious LiIe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 183. an A very helpful book is Psychological Aspects of Spiritual Develop-ment, Michael O'Brien and Raymond Steimel, ed., (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1964). a0 See Elizabeth Monroe Drews, "Counseling for Self-actualization in Gifted Girls and Young Women," Journal of Counseling Psy-chology, XII, 2 (Summer, 1965), pp. 167-175. ÷ ÷ ÷ P ostulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 619 Sister M. ~ Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 620 a task in which she i~ needed, the young woman comes to 'see her own personal worth. "Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic' value, that he is im-portant, worthwhile." lz It often happens in the religious life that people who want to do great things are de-mobilized. But it should be realized that it is a sign of health if a person longs to do something important with his life.is Since postulants are expected to be normal young women, they should be allowed to fulfill this normal need by doing something meaningful for others. Op-portunities within the convent can be found to satisfy some of this need. The older sisters, especially those in the infirmary, need and appreciate the friendship of youth. And youth, in turn, can profit greatly from the wisdom and experience of age. The postulants should be permitted the enrichment of their personalities by close association with all the other members of the com-munity. A meaningful apostolate for action should also be sought outside the convent. Some areas of investigation might be the parish CCD program, high school or young adult discussion clubs, Newman Club, homes for the aged, hospitals, schools, and so forth. Of course, these are only temporary apostolates, but they will satisfy the need for meaningful action now. Howevdr, the postulant must also be well aware of the !ongterm goal toward which she is working. That is, she should have some idea of her future status in the com-munity so that she sees her future role in the group as an important one, one that is worthwhile waiting for. In the fulfillment of self-enjoined and community-appointed apostolates, the postulant will reveal her psy-chological maturity. The directress should watch for manifestations of inferidrity feelings, egotism, undue competitiveness, hbstility, rigidity, and a false sense of reality.~9 Because the girls are not conforming to rigid standards of performance, their personal strengths and weaknesses will appear. The directress can then counsel them accordingly and either help them to grow toward maturity or to realize that they would find greater ful-fillment in another way of life. One other means of providing an atmosphere favor-able to personality growth will be mentioned. Postu-lants, like other normal young women, negd to be free to agsociate with young people of their own age who are 1~Thomas Dubay, S.M., "Psychological Needs in the Religious Context," REvmw FOR Ra~LIGXOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 525. ~s Refer' to the article by Eugene Kennedy noted above. ~ Trafford Maher, s.J., Lest We Build on Sand, (St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Association, 1962), pp. 203-208. not necessarily in the religious state. Means should some-how be provided for them to meet and make friends out-side the convent on an intellectual and social level. They will grow through these new interpersonal relationships, for in growing concerned and interested in others, there is a loss of self-centeredness. In listening to the prob-lems of a new college girl friend, the postulant may come to appreciate her own life more. And in relating to a boy of her own age, she will grow in maturity and womanliness. Yes, the postulant should have contact with boys. She grew up amid boys in her family, neighborhood,: and school. She hopefully had the experience of dating. Now after she enters the convent, why should the sight of a person of the opposite sex be denied her? Will the sight of a boy suddenly be harmful to her? It would be so much healthier if she could continue to relate to young men of her own age especially. In relating to them, she grows in femininity, which is very important to her as a young woman. If there is a danger to chastity, if the postulant is not able to control her sexual drives, then it is certainly best for her and for the community to find this out soon. How sad it is for women who have taken vows to discover they cannot speak to a man on the school faculty or a doctor on the staff without becom-ing either rigid and afraid or sexually stimulated. To permit these healthful relationships with other young people, the postulants could be permitted tO at-tend (sometimes without their directress) Newman Club gatherings, interfaith meetings, weekend retreats, and an occasional evening concert or drama. Healthful personality growth in the convent does not just happen. The proper atmosphere has to be prepared and sustained. This is the task of the postulant di-rectress. She must know the characteristics and needs of the young women she is guiding. She must accept and love them unconditionally and provide them with op-portunities for growth in love, responsibility, and womanliness. "Every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality development together with (and we might add because of) their achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity." ~0 SUPPLEMENTARY ]~IBLIOGRAPHY Allport, Gordon. Pattern and Growth in Personality. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961. Cameron, Norman. Personality Development and Psychopathol-ogy: A Dynamic Approach. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1963. Edward Carney, OSFS. "The Seminary Rule," National Catholic ~0 Dubay, p. 523. ÷ ÷ Pos~laney VOLUME 27, 1%8 62] Education Association Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 108-114. D'Arcy, Paul."'Differentlated Seminary Discipline," NCEA Bul-letin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), 85-91. Dignan, Sister Howard, B.V.M. "Identity and Change in Re-ligious Life," RrvIEw fOR RV.LICIOUS, XXV, 4 (July, 1966), 669-677. Dondero, Autin, F.S.C. No Borrowed Light: Mental Health for Religious. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1965. Frick, Willard. "Healthy Interpersonal Relationships'. an Ex-ploratory Study," Journal of Individual Psychology, XXIII, 1 (May, 1967), 59-66. Gallen, Joseph, s.J., "Femininity and Spirituality," REVIEW for RrL~G~OUS, XX, 4 (July, 1964), 237-256. Goldberg, Arthur. "J.uvenatrics'. Study of Prolonged Adoles-cence," The Cleartng House, XLI, 5 (December, 1966), 218- 222. Hargadon, Kevin, F.S.C. "Psychological Requirement for Re-ligious Vocation," National Catholic Guidance Conference Journal, X, 4 (Summer, 1966), 271-279. Huyghe, Gerard. Tension and Change: The Problems of Re-ligious Orders Today. Westminster: Newman, 1966. McKinney, Fred. Psychology o[ Personal ~ld]ustment. New York: Wiley, 1941. Maher, Trafford, S.J. Self--.4 Measureless Sea (Cou.nseling: Theory and Practice). St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Associa-tion, 1966. Regan, Francis. "Authority and Obedience in Seminary Train-ing," NCE/1 Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 103-107. Rogers, Carl. On Becoming a Person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960. Schneiders, Alexander. "Adolescence and the Challenge of Ma-turity," National Catholic Guidance ConIerence Journal, X, 2 (Winter, 1966), 109-117. Simmons, Joseph, C.S.C. "Seminary as Institution," Catholic Education Review, LXIV, 26 (February 1966), 97-105. Stafford, John, C.S.V. "The Religious Rule and Psychological Development," Rrvxv.w voR R~ioIo~s, XXV, 2 (March, 1966), 294-304. Van Kaam, Adrian. Personality Fulfillment in the Religious Life. ~.Vilkes-Barre: Dimension Books, 1967. Walters, Sister Annette, S.C.J. "Attitudes, Values, and Motiva-tional Systems of the American Catholic Woman College Student," Catholic Psychological Record, IV, 1 (Spring, 1966), 20-34. Wilson, C. R. "Self-Acceptance and Religious Security," R~vi~w vo~ R~Lxcxoos, XXI, 6 (November, 1962), 555-559. 4- 4- $i~t~r M." Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Proper Juridical Articles of.Constitutions In the article, "Constitutions without Canons," REw~.w fOR R~.LIOIOUS, May, 1968, the purpose was to eliminate as far as possible the canons or laws of the Church from the constitutions of congregations of sisters and brothers. The result would be that the constitutions would almost completely consist of laws proper to the particular institute, which is the nature and definition of constitntions. These proper juridical laws are n~cessary determinations of matters that are undetermined in canon law or' matters over and above the norms of canon law. It was also advised in the same article that all detailed matters now found in constitutions should be placed in the custom book or in a similar book. The present article lists in 'the first section the juridical topics of proper law that should be in the constitutions, and in the second section gives added matters that I now believe should also be placed in the custom book, that is, matters over and above those put in the custom book in the "Constitutions Without Canons" article. The number in parenthesis after each topic is that of the corresponding article in "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," RrwEw for REL~C~OUS, 25 (1966), 361--~57. The vote of a council is mentioned in the first sec-tion for the purpose of information, but we recom-mended in the "Constitutions without Canons" article that all votes of councils be confined to lists in the cus-tom book. The listing of the matters proper to each institute will also enable all o[ these to make a more accurate study of the juridical matters that should constitute the proper law of an institute. This can result ultimately at least in the increase,or decrease o[ the matters listed in this article. A close study of this aspect was not too easy ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.J.," writes ~rom St. Joseph's Church; ~1 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania VOLUME 27, 1968 in the past due to the large number of canons contained in the constitutions. I. MATTERS THAT MUST BE l~TAINED IN THE CONSTITUTIONS ]oseph F. Gallen, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1. General purpose (1) 2. Special purpose (2) 3. Authorization necessary [or a change in the special purpose or in the particular works (3-4) 4. Classes of members (5)1 5. Authorization necessary for a change in the reli-gious habit (16) 6. Superior competent to admit to the postulancy and any vote of a council (38)2 7. Duration of postulancy beyond six months (40) 8. Higher superior competent' to prolong the postu-lancy and any vote of a council (40); to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months and any vote of a council (40)3 9, Superior competent to dismiss a postulant and any vote of a council (38)4 1 "Unless the state of affairs suggests otherwise, care must be taken to produce in women's communities a single category of sisters" (Ab-bott- Gallagher, The Documents oI Vatican li [paperback edition], 478). * The Code of Canon Law contains no legislation concerning the superior competent to admit to the postulancy. The matter is there-fore governed by the particular constitutions. In the modern practice of the Holy See the mother general has the right of admission when the congregation is not divided into provinces; if such a division exists, this right is given to the higher superiors or to the mother general for the entire congregation and to the mothers provincial for their own provinces. In the latter type of congregation the right is sometimes given only to the mother general. A very small number of congregations demand the consultative vote of the respective council and an equally small number prescribe a deliberative vote. * Canon 539, § 2, gives the right of prolonging the postulancy to higher superiors. In the constitutions the higher superior who has the right of admission is also the one who has the right of prolonga-tion. Therefore, this matter was explained in the preceding note, and the statements there made on the consultative' and deliberative vote are also applicable here. Recent constitutiofis permit the mother general, provincial, or higher superiors to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months provided a postulancy of six months is preserved. At times no vote, th( consultative, or even the deliberative vote o[ the respective council has been prescribed for the abbreviation (REVIEW for RELI¢IOVS, 21 [1962], 409). * In the practice o[ the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the dis-missal of postulants is reserved in the same manner as admission to higher superiors. Some constitutions demand a consultative vote of the council for dismissal even though no vote was required for ad-mission. A few constitutions give a local superior the right of dis-missing a postulant in an urgent case. I0. Higher superior competent to admit to the novice-ship and vote of a council (44)5 11. Authority competen.t for the establishment or transfer of a novitiate (46) 12. Necessity or advisability of a novitiate in each province (47)° 13. Duration of a noviceship beyond a year (50)7 14. Authority competent to dispense from the second year of noviceship (50) 15. Manner of beginning the noviceship (52) 16. Superior competent for the dismissal of a novice and any vote of a council (67)s "In virtue of canon 543 admission to the noviceship appertains to a higher superior, and consequently to the mother general or provincial in a centralized institute, to the superior of a monastery of nuns, and to the mother superior in a congregation that has a similar monastic structure. The same canon demands that the council or chapter have a vote in this admission. The particular constitutions decide whether the council or the chapter has the vote. In centralized institutes the council will always have the vote; in monasteries of nuns and insti. tutes of similar structure the chapter has the vote, but there can be also a previous vote of the council. It is likewise left to the constitu-tions to determine whether this vote of the council or chapter is deliberative or consultative. According to the ordinary practice of the Sacred Congregation the vote is deliberative, but in a few congre-gations it is only consultative. Congregations divided into provinces can have variations. The competent higher superior is frequently the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council, but often this must be supple-mented by the confirmation, approval, or consent'of the mother general either alone or with the deliberative or consultative vote of the general council. In other constitutions admission appertains to the mother general or the higher superior with the deliberative or consultative vote of the council, and, finally, in some institutes the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative vote of her council. ~ Canon law does not oblige each province to have its own novitb ate, but the constitutions impose this obligation either absolutely or as far as it is possible. The Normae of 1901 stated that it was appro-priate for each province to have its own novitiate (n. 303). ¢ Canon 555, § 2, states that a period beyond a year demanded for the noviceship by the particular constitutions is not required for validity unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. In practice it is required only for liceity. This longer period is practically always two years, but a few institutes have a noviceship of eighteen months. S According to canon'571, § 1, the competent authority for the dismissal of a novice is the superior or the chapter according to the constitutions. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation, the dis-missal of a novice is reserved to higher superiors with the vote of the council, which is more frequently consultative than deliberative. In congregations without provinces, this higher superior is the mother general. In congregations with provinces, the right is more frequently reserved to the mother general, but in some institutes it is given to the higher superior or the mother provincial. When the right is reserved to the mother general, the constitutions at times enact that the mother provincial and her council are to be con-sulted. Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ ÷ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17. Superior competent for the prolongation of the noviceship and any vote of a council (68)9 18. Duration. of temporary vows beyond three years; length of each temporary profession, for example, one of three, another of two years, or vice versa; five annual professions, and so forth (72) 19. Higher superior competent to admit to the pro-fessions, to prolong temporary profession, and vote of a council (73)1° ~ Canon 571, § 2, gives the right of prolongation of the noviceship to higher superiors but does not prescribe any vote of the council. Great variety is found in this matter in constitutions. In congregations without provinces, the right appertains to the mother general. The constitutions often demand no vote but in some the consultative and less frequently the deliberative vote of the council is prescribed. In congregations divided into provinces, the right of prolongation is given to the higher superior or the mother general, alone or with the consultative or deliberative vote of the respective council. 10 In virtue of canon 543, only a higher superior is competent to admit to any religious profession, whether temporary (first, renewal, or prolongation), or perpetual (solemn or simple). The competent higher superior is the mother superior in a congregation that has the monastic'structure and the mother general in a~centralized congrega-tion that is not divided into pr6vinces. In a congregation that has provinces, the constitutions determine whether the one admitting is the mother general or the mother provincial. Such constitutions fre-quently reserve the admissions to all professions to the mother gen-eral. This right is often given also to the mother provincial or higher superiors. Frequently also, and especially for perpetual profession, the mother provincial admits but her admission mnst be confirmed by the mother general. In a few institutes, at least sonde admissions ap-pertain to the mother general and her council but the request for the admission is made by the mother provincial with her council, for example, with the deliberative vote of this council for admiss!on to first temporary profession. If the constitutions do not determine the legitimate higher superior for the prolongation of temporary vows (c. 574, § 2), this appertains to the higher superior who has the right of admitting to either temporary or perpetual profession, but more probably to the latter when the higher superior for both of these admissions is not the same in the law of the constitutions. Canon 543 demands that there be a vote of the council or chapter, without specifying whether the vote is to be deliberative or consulta-tive, for admission to first temporary profession and perpetual pro-fession, whether simple 9r solemn, but not for the renewal of tem-porary vows nor for the prolongation of temporary profession. Canon 575, § 2, demands that the vote for the first temporary profession be deliberative, which is also to be extended to institutes in which the first profession is perpetual by privilege. The same canon appears to prescribe that the vote for the perpetual profession, simple or solemn, be only consultative; but the Holy See in approving consti-tutions interprets the canon as permitting a deliberative vote. There-fore, the Code of Canon Law permits either a consultative or delibera-tive vote for perpetual profession. In centralized congregations the council of the competent higher superior always has the vote. In congregations that have the monastic structure, the chapter has the vote; but there can also be a previous vote of the council. In the constitutions of centralized congregations: (1) the vote of the council.for the first temporary prgfession must be deliberative by reason of canon 575, § 2; (2) for renewals of temporary professions the constitutions commonly prescribe the consultative 20. Superior competent to permit an anticipated re-newal of temporary vows and any vote of a council (78)11 21. Authority competent to dispense from duration of temporary vows beyond three years (74) 22. Superior competent to receive the vows (74) 23. Formula of professions (75) 24. Definition of the vow of poverty (82) 25. Prescription on common life with regard to pov-erty (93) 26. Definition of the vow of chastity (94) 27. Definition of the vow of obedience (95-6, 100) 28. Obligation to obey constitutions and other orders of superiors (99) 29. Superior competent to exclude from renewing temporary vows or from making perpetual profession and any vote of a council (152)t-° 30. (Diocesan) A petition for dismissal of a professed of temporary vows must be made by the mother general and any vote of her council (155)la 31. Previous judgment on the incorrigibility and dis-missal of a. professed of perpetual vows and vote of coun-cil (158)a4 32. Superior competent for the declaration of fact in an automatic dismissal and vote of council (161)15 vote; (3) for the prolongation of temporary vows, the constitutions more frequently demand no vote but some require the consultative and a few the deliberative vote; (4) for perpetual profession the vote prescribed by the constitutions is practically always consultative. a According to canon 577, § 2, an anticipation as such may be per-mitted by any superior, whether a higher or minor local. However, this right is only to admit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of such a profession must be observed, and therefore the admission must be made by the compe-tent higher superior according to the constitutions, as explained in the preceding note. In constitutions an anticipation is usually re-served to a higher superior or to a particular higher superior. ~ Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her couucil, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors cither alone or with the consultative or, less frequently, the delibera-tive vote of the council (REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, 25 [1966], 391). ~ In a diocesan congregation the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary, but the constitutions will frequently require the consultative or deliberative vote of her council for such a petition (REVIEW fOR RELmtOUS, 16 [1957], 272). x, Canon law does not clearly demand the intervention of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismis-sal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pon-tifical and diocesan congregations is to be referred to the mot

Issue 23.6 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; Communications Media by Vatican Council II 689 Religious Life by Paul VI 698 Matthew, Chapter 19 by Lucien Legrand, M.E.P. 705 Chastity and Psychosexual Developmen.t by Richard P. Vaughan, S.J. 715 Psychosexual Development in Religious Life by Richard A. McCormick, S.J. 724 Means of Aggiornamento by Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F. 742 Sacraments--Consecrations and Dedications by Clarence R. McAuliffe, S.J. 750 Reflections of a Student-Brother by David A. Fleming, S.M. 761 The Art of Smal! Talk by Sister Rose Alice, S.S.J. 766 Religious Poverty by Paul J. Bernadicou, S.J. 770 Survey of Roman Documents 779 Views, News, Previews 785 Questions and Answers 788 Book Reviews 796 Indices for 1964 811 VOLUIHE 23 Nu~m~.R 6 November 1964 VATICAN COUNCIL II Decree on Communications Media PAUL BISHOP THE SERVANT OF THE SERVANTS OF GOD TOGETHER WITH THE FATHERS OF THE COUNCIL FOR A PERPETUAL RECORD OF THE MATTER 1. Among* the remarkable discoveries of technology which human intelligence especially in modern times has been able to make with the help of God, the Church gives a special welcome and importance to those which are principally concerned with men's minds and which have opened up new ways of easily communicating every kind of news, ideas, and principles. Outstanding among these discoveries are those media (such as the press, movies, radio, television, and the like) which of their nature are able to reach and influence not only individuals but also the masses and the whole of society. For this reason these media can rightfully be called the means of social com-munication. 2. The Church recognizes that these media, if they are rightly used, can be of the greatest service to the hu-man race since they contribute greatly to human recrea-tion and formation and to the spread and strengthening of the kingdom of God. But she also realizes that men can use these media in a way which is contrary to the plan of the Creator and can turn them to their own loss. More-over, she experiences a mother's sorrow at the harm which * The official Latin text of this decree (which begins with the words Inter rairilica) is given in dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 56 (1964), pp. 145-57. Paragraph enumeration in the translation is taken from the original text. Vatican Council I1 VOLUME 23, 1964 689 ÷ Vatican Cour~il !1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has too often resulted for human society from the wrong use of these media. Therefore, this Council, continuing the watchful care given by popes and bishops to this important matter, judges that it is its duty to deal with the principal ques-tions connected with the media of social communication. It trusts, moreover, that the teaching and directives it proposes will contribute not only to the salvation of the faithful but also to the progress of the entire human community. CHAPTER I 3. Since the Catholic Church was instituted by Christ our Lord to bring salvation to all men and is therefore under an urgent obligation to preach the gospel, she considers it to be a part of her duty to proclaim the good news of salvation by means of these media of social communications and to instruct men about their proper use. The Church, therefore, has a natural right to use and possess every type of these media insofar as they are necessary or useful for Christian education and for the work of saving souls; and it is the duty of the bishops to so train and direct the faithful that by the help of these media they may attain their own salvation and per-fection as well as that of the entire human family. On the other hand, it is the special concern of the laity to imbue these media with that humane and Chris-tian spirit which will make them fully correspond to the high expectations of the human race and to the divine plan. 4. For the right use of these media, it is absolutel~ necessary that those who use them should know the norms of the moral law and should conscientiously apply them to this area of activity. Accordingly, they should consider the matter which is communicated according to the special nature of each medium. Moreover, they must take into account all the conditions and circumstances of the purposes, persons, places, times, and so forth under which communication takes place and which can influence or' even change its morality. Among these elements there is to be included the special way in which each of thesel media works, since this is a force which can be so great that human beings, especially if they are unprepared, can' find it difficult to notice; control, and, if necessary, re-j( ct it. 5. Abbve all, however, it is necessary that all con~ cerned in the matter should form a correct conscien~ with regard'to the use of these media and especially with respect to dertain questions that are keenly discussed in our time. The first of these questions is concerned with what is termed "information"--the gathering and dissemina-tion of news. It is certainly clear that this has become a very useful and for the most part a necessary activity because of the progress of human society and the greater closeness of its members. The speedy and public com-munication of events and ,happenings provides each individual with a fuller and steady knowledge of these matters; in this way all men can contribute effectively to the common good and can assist in the further progress of civil society. Therefore, in human society there is a right to information about matters which, each in its own way, concern individual men or society. The cor-rect exercise of this right, however, requires that what is communicated should always be true and, within the bounds of justice and love, complete. Besides, the way in which it is communicated must be proper and decent; in other words, both in the gathering and divul-gation of news, moral law !and the legitimate rights and dignity of man must bei respected: not all knowl-edge is profitable and "charity builds up character" (1 Cor 8:1). 6. The second question is concerned with the rela-tionship between what are termed the rights of art and the norms of the moral law. ~Since the growing contro-versies in this matter not infrequently originate from false notions about ethics and esth~etics, the Council decrees that all must hold in an absolute way the primacy of the objective moral law which of itself surpasses and properly coordinates all other levels of human affairs, whatever their dignity and including the level of art. Only the moral order attains to man in his entire nature as a ra-tional creature of God called to a supernatural goal; and only it, if it be completely and faithfully observed, leads man to the full possession of perfection and hap-piness. 7. Finally, the narration, description, or representation of evil by means of the media of social communication can genuinely contribute to a profounder knowledge of man; and by means of appropriate dramatic contrast, it can serve to manifest and exalt the greatness of truth and goodness. Nevertheless, in order to prevent harm rather than profit coming from this, the moral law must be obeyed especially in the case of matters which require a reverent treatment or which can easily arouse evil desires in man wounded as he is by original sin. 8. Since at the present time public opinion wields the greatest influence and power on the private and public life of all classes of society, it is necessary that all members of society should fulfill their obligations of justice and love in this area; accordingly, they should + + + Communications Media VOLUME 2;1, 1964 69! Vatican Council I1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 692 t strive to form and spread correct public opinion by means of these communications media. 9. Special obligations bind all the readers, viewers, and listeners who by their personal and free choice re-ceive the communications made by these media. Correct choice demands that they give their full support to those presentations which are distinguished for their moral, intellectual, and artistic content; moreover, they should avoid those presentations which might be for them a cause or an occasion of spiritual harm or which can lead others into danger through bad example or which hinder good presentations and promote bad ones. This last frequently happens when payment is made to those who employ communications media only for financial returns. To carry out the moral law, those who receive these communications have a duty not to omit finding out in due time the judgments that have been made by those competent in the area; likewise, they must not negle.ct to follow these judgments in accord with the norms of a correct conscience. And in order that they may more easily resist less correct inducements and give their full support to what is good, they should take care to guide and form their consciences by suitable means. 10. Those who receive these communications--espe-cially young people--should take care that they accustom themselves to moderation and self-control in the use of these media. Moreover, they should endeavor to gain a thorough knowledge of what .they see, hear, and read; they should discuss these matters with their teachers and with those expert in the particular field and thus learn to pass a correct judgment on them. Parents should be mindful of their duty to take watchful care that shows, publications, and so forth that are opposed to faith and morality do not enter the home and do not reach their children elsewhere. 11. The principal moral responsibility with regard to the right use of the media of social communication falls on journalists, writers, actors, s~enarists, producers, ex-hibitors, distributors, operators, sellers, critics, and all others who play any part in making and presenting these communications. It is evident and clear that in the, present condition of mankind all of these have serious: responsibilities since they can shape and form men and thereby lead them either to good or to evil. It is the duty of these persons, then, to take care of the financial, political, and artistic aspects of communication without opposing the common good. For the easier achievement of this, it will be worthwhile for them tO join professional associations which enjoin (if necessary~ by means of an accepted code of morality) on their mere+ bers respect for the moral law in the activities and tasks of their craft. Moreover, they should always remember that a great part of their readers and audiences is composed of young people who need writing and entertainment which offers them decent recreation and draws their minds to the higher things of culture. They should also take care that communications in the area of religion should be entrusted to competent and experienced persons and that they should be carried out with due respect. 12. Civil authority has special obligations in this matter by reason of the common good to which these media are ordered. In accord with its role, civil authority has the duty to defend and safeguard that due and just freedom of information which, especially in the case of the press, is a reaI necessity for the progress of today's society; it is likewise its duty to foster religion, culture, and the fine arts; and it should safeguard those who re-ceive the communications so that they can freely enjoy their legitimate rights. Moreover, it is the duty of civil authority to aid those projects which could not otherwise be undertaken even though they ar~ highly beneficial, especially to young people. Finally, this same public authority, since it is legiti-mately concerned with the welfare of its citizens, is bound by the obligation to pass and enforce laws whereby due and vigilant care is taken that serious harm does not come to public morals and to the progress of society by the bad use of these communications media. This watch-ful care in no way restricts the freedom of individuals and of groups, especially if there is a lack o[ adequate precaution on the part of those who are professionals in the field of these communications media. Special care should be taken to safeguard young people from printed matter and performances which may be harmful at their age. CHAPTER II 13. All the members of the Church should make a strenuous, common effort to take immediate steps to put the media of social communications into effective use in the multiple works of the apostolate as circumstances of place and time allow. They should anticipate harmful projects, especially in those regions where moral and religious progress requires a greater amount of zeal. Hence bishops should be quick to carry out their duties in this area which is so closely connected with their ordinary work of preaching. Likewise, the laity who are engaged in the use of these media should concern them-selves with witnessing to Christ, first of all by performing their duties competently and in an apostolic spirit, and 4" 4" 4- Communications Media VOLUME 23, 1964 693 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 69,t then by directly assisting the pastoral activity of the Church to the best of their technical, economic, cultural, and artistic abilities. 14. First of all, a good press should be fostered. To fully imbue readers with a Christian spirit, a truly Catholic press should be begun and promoted. This press--fostered and directed either directly by ecclesiasti-cal authority or by Catholic laymen--should be pub-lished with the manifest purpose of shaping, strengthen-ing, and fostering public opinion that is in harmony with natural law and with Catholic doctrine; it should also publicize and correctly explain events which pertain to the life of the Church. The faithful should be reminded of the need to read and spread the Catholic press in order that a Christian judgment on all events may be formed. Effective encouragement and support should be given to the production and showing of films that genuinely contribute to proper recreation and to culture and art, especially when they are destined for young people. This will be especially achieved by assisting and joining enterprises and projects for the making and distributing of good films, by commending worthwhile films through critical approval and through awards, and by fostering and consociating theatres of Catholics and other men of principle. Similar effective support should be extended to good radio and television programs, especially those that are suitable for the family. Catholic programs should be earnestly fostered, for in them the listeners and viewers are led to participate in the life of the Church and hre imbued with religious truths. Where necessary, care should be taken to inaugurate Catholic stations; but pro-vision must be made that their programs are outstanding by reason of their excellence and effectiveness. Moreover, measures should be taken that the noble and ancient art of the stage, which is now seen everywhere by means of the media of social communication, should tend to the cultural and moral improvement of its audiences. 15. To provide for the needs just enumerated, proper training should be given to priests, religious, and laymen who have the necessary abilities to adapt these media to apostolic purposes. In particular, laymen should be given an artistic, doc-trinal, and moral training. Hence, there should be an increase in schools, departments, and institutes where journalists, writers for films, radio, and television, and other such persons can secure a complete formation im-bued with the Christian spirit especially with regard to the social doctrine of the Church. Actors are also to be trained and educated so that by their art they may contribute to society. Finally, great care must be taken to prepare literary, film, radio, television, and other critics who will be highly skilled in their own fields as well as equipped with the training and inspiration to give judgments in which morality is shown in its proper light. 16. Since the media of social communication involve the participation of audiences of different ages and backgrounds, the proper use of these media requires the proper education and training of these audiences. Ac-cordingly, in Catholic schools of whatever level, in semi-naries, and in apostolic lay groups, support should be given to projects geared to achieve this purpose, especially if they are destined for young people. Such projects should be increased in number and should be directed according to the principles of Christian morality. To facilitate this, Catholic teaching and directives in this matter should be set forth and explained in catechism classes. 17. It is entirely unfitting that the Church's children should permit the word of salvation to be bound and impeded by the technical delays and expenses--great as they are--that are characteristic of these media. Hence, this Council reminds the faithful of their obligation to support and aid Catholic newspapers, magazines, film projects, and radio and television stations, the purpose of all of which is to spread and defend truth and to provide for the Christian instruction of human society. At the same time, this Council invites groups and individuals possessing great influence in financial and technical mat-ters to use their resources and experience to freely give generous support to these media insofar as they contribute to genuine culture and to the apostolate. 18. In order that the multiform apostolate of the Church with regard to communications media be effec-tively strengthened, in every diocese of the world ac-cording to the judgment of the bishops, there should be an annual day during which the faithful are instructed about their duties in this matter, are invited to pray for this cause, and are asked to make an offering to be conscientiously used for the support and development of the projects and undertakings which the Church has begun in this area in accord with the needs of the Catholic world. 19. In the carrying out of his supreme pastoral charge with regard to communications media, the supreme pontiff has available a special section of the Holy See.1 t Moreover, the fathers of the Council, gladly acceding to the re-quest of the Secretariat for the Supervision of Press and Entertain-ment, respectfully request the supreme pontiff to extend the re-sponsibility and competency of this section to all the media of Communications Media ¯ VOLUME 23, 1964 695 CouFnadtilc aI1n REVIEW,FORRELIG[OUS 696~ 20. It will be the responsibility of the bishops to watch over this kind of projects and undertakings in their own dioceses; they should promote such projects and, as far as the public apostolate is concerned, they should regulate them including those under the direction of exempt religious. 21. Since an effective national apostolate requires unity in planning and in resources, this Council de-crees and orders that national offices for press, film, radio, and television be everywhere established and promoted by every means. The special work of these offices will be to take measures that the conscience of the faithful be correctly formed with regard to the use of these media and to foster and direct whatever is done by Catholics in this area. In each country the direction of these offices is to be entrusted to a special committee of bishops or to a single delegated bishop; moreover, laymen who are ex-perts in Catholic doctrine and in these media should have a role in these offices. 22. Moreover, since the effectiveness of these media reaches beyond national boundaries and affects almost every member of the entire human race, the national of-rices begun in this area should cooperate among them-selves on an international level. The offices mentioned in number 21 should work effectively with their corre-sponding international Catholic associations. These in-ternational Catholic associations are legitimately ap-proved only by the Holy See and depend on it. CONCLUSIONS 23. In order that all the principles and norms of this Council with regard to communications media be put into effect, the Council expressly orders that a pas-toral instruction be issued by the section of the Holy See mentioned in number 19 with the help of experts of various countries. 24. Moreover, this Council is confident that its state-ment of directives and norms will be gladly accepted and conscientiously followed by all the members of the Church who accordingly in their use of these media will suffer no harm but, like salt and light, will savor the earth and enlighten the world. Moreover, the Council invites all men of good will, especially those who have charge of these media, to endeavor to use these media only for the good of human society, the fate of which more and more depends on the right use of such media. In this way, as was the case with ancient works of art, so also communication including the press and to include in its membership experts, including laymen, from 'various countries. through these new discoveries the name of the Lord will be glorified according to the saying of the Apostle: "Jesus Christ, yesterday, and today, and the same for-ever" (Heb 13:8). Each and every one of the matters set Iorth ~n this Decree were decided by the lathers o[ the Council. And We, by the apostolic power given Us by ChriJt, together with the venerable fathers, approve in the Holy Spirit, decree, enact, and order to be promulgated what has been decided in this Synod [or the glory o[ God. Given at Rome in St. Peter's on December 4, 1963. 4. 4. 4. Communications Media VOLUME 2.~ 1964 697 PAUL VI Allocution on Religious Life ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Beloved sons: With* great joy and no small hope We look upon you who are the chosen and authoritative group of venerable and illustrious religious families; it is a matter of de-light to Us to give you Our warmest greetings and to express to you the high opinion We have of you as well as Our gratitude to you. You have come to Rome to hold the general chapters of your respective institutes; although this is a matter that primarily affects your order or congregation, still it also has repercussions on the life of the Church, which derives a great part of her vigor, apostolic zeal, and ardor for holiness from the flourishing condition of re-ligious life. Moreover, you have come to Us not only as devoted and loving sons to offer your homage to the Vicar of Christ but also to request the apostolic blessing on your-selves, your institutes, and the affairs of your chapters from which you rightly trust there will come salutary results such that the religious life will be led more in-tensely and more ardently. Although We would have gladly met each of your groups separately and would have addressed each of them in accord with its own characteristics and needs, still We have chosen to receive all of you at the same ¯ On May 23, 1964, Paul VI gave an allocution to the superiors general and the capitulars general of various religious orders and con-gregations of men. The text of the allocution (entitled Magno gaudio) is given in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 56 (1964), pp. 565-71. Except for the opening and closing paragraphs (which were translated by a staff member of the REWEW), the translation is by the Very Reverend Godfrey Poage, C.P.; Director, Pontifical Office for Religious Voca-tions; Piazza Pio XII, 3; Rome, Italy. The translation first appeared in the Newsletter of the Pontifical Office for Religious Vocations, n. 13 (September, 1964). time. This We have done in order to give greater weight to this speech made to you in common; We did this all the more readily since on this occasion We wish to set forth matters which pertain to all religious of the entire world. First of all, We wish to note the great importance of religious institutes and assert that their work is wholly necessary for the Church in these days. Admittedly, the doctrine of the universal vocation of all the faithful to holiness of life (regardless of their position or social situ-ation) has been advanced very much in modern times. This is as it should be, for it is based on the fact that all the faithful are consecrated to God by their baptism. Moreover, the very necessities of the times demand that the fervor of Christian life should inflame souls and radi-ate in the world itself. In other words, the needs of the times demand a consecration of the world; and this task pertains preeminently to the laity. All these developments are unfolding under the counsel of Divine Providence, and that is why We rejoice over such salutary undertak-ings. But for this very reason we must be on our guard lest the true notion of religious life, as it has traditionally flourished in the Church, should become obscured. We must beware lest our youth, becoming confused while thinking about their choice of a state of life, should be thereby hindered in some way from having a clear and distinct vision of the special function and immutable importance of the religious state within the Church. Accordingly, it has seemed good to Us to recall now the priceless importance and necessary function of religious life. For this stable way of life, which receives its proper character from profession of the evangelical vows, is a perfect way of living according to the example and teach-ing of Jesus Christ. It is a state of life which keeps in view the constant growth of charity and its eventual fulfill-ment; and it is to be preferred before any other kind of life, before temporal duties, lawful in themselves, no mat-ter how useful they may be. Right now it is of supreme importance for the Church to bear witness socially and publicly. Such witness is pro-claimed by the way of life in religious institutes. And the more it is stressed that the laity must live and propa-gate the Christian life in the world, so much the more must they be given the shining example of those who have in truth renounced the world and have clearly shown that "the kingdom of Christ is not of this world." 1 Thus the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration which is proper to bap-tism. It is indeed a special consecration which perfects See Jn 18:~6. 4" 4. 4- Religious Li~e VOLUME" 23, 1964 699 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the former one, inasmuch as by it the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone. Now all this leads to another point, which We wish to stress with paternal solicitude. The vows of religion must be held in the highest esteem and the greatest importance must be placed on their function and practice. Only in this manner will religious be able to lead a life that is becoming and in harmony with the state they have em-braced--- a state they have freely chosen; only in this way will their state of life efficaciously help them progress toward the perfection of charity; and only in this way will the faithful see in them an example of the perfect Chris-tian life and be inspired to follow it. Although living conditions have greatly changed in recent years and the practice of the religious life has neces-sarily been modified, nevertheless the evangelical counsels have not changed and of their very nature retain their full force and cannot in any way be weakened. Accordingly, religious should cultivate obedience with the greatest diligence. This is and must remain a holo-caust of one's own will which is offered to God. A re-ligious makes this sacrifice of self by humble submission to lawful superiors, whose authority, of course, should always be exercised within the limits of charity and with due respect for the dignity of the human person, even though nowadays religious have to undertake many more burdensome offices and carry out their duties more quickly and more willingly. There must also be inculcated a love of poverty, about which there is a great deal of discussion in the Church today. Religious must surp~iss all others by their example of true evangelical poverty. Therefore, they must love that poverty to which they have spontaneously committed themselves. It is not enough for religious to depend merely on the superior's decision with regard to their use of material things. Let religious of their own will be content with the things that are needed for properly ful-filling their way of life, shunning those little extras and luxuries which weaken the religious life. Then besides the poverty proper to the individual religious we must not neglect the corporate poverty which should distin-guish the institute or the whole body of religious. Thus they should avoid excessive ornamentation in their build-ings and elaborate functions, as well as anything else that savors of luxury, always bearing in mind the social con-dition of the people among whom they live. Let them also refrain from excessive concern in gathering funds, but give their attention rather to using what temporal goods Divine Providence will provide for the assistance of their needy brethren, who may live in their own country or in other parts of the world. Finally, religious must preserve chastity as a treasured gem. Everybody knows that in the present condition of human society the practice of perfect chastity is made difficult not only by a depraved moral atmosphere but also by a false teaching which poisons souls by overem-phasis on nature. An awareness of these facts should impel religious to stir up their faith more energetically--that same faith by which we believe the declarations of Christ when He proclaims the supernatural value of chastity that is sought for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. It is this same faith which assures us beyond doubt that, with the help of divine grace, we can preserve unsullied the flower of chastity. To attain this end there should be a more diligent practice of Christian mortification and of custody of the senses. Never under the specious pretext of acquiring wider knowledge or a broader culture should religious read unbecoming books or papers or attend in-decent shows. An exception might perhaps be made if there is a proven need for such studies, but the reasons alleged must be carefully examined by religious superiors. In a world subject to so many impure suggestions the value of the sacred ministry depends in great measure upon the light of chastity which radiates from one conse-crated to God and strong with His strength. It is quite evident that the proper way of living re-ligious life requires discipline. There must be laws and suitable conditions for observing them. Therefore, the principal task of the general chapter is, as time goes on, to keep intact those norms of the religious family which were set up by its founder and lawgiver. Therefore, it is the responsibility of the capitulars to check firmly all those modes of conduct which gradually devitalize the strength of religious discipline; namely, practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved. They must likewise gtiard against any relaxation of discipline which is urged not by true necessity but by arrogance of spirit or aversion to obedience or love of worldly things. Moreover, with respect to undertaking new projects or activities they must refrain from taking on those which do not entirely correspond to the principal work of the institute or to the mind of the founder. For religious institutes will flourish and prosper so long as the integral spirit of their founder continues to inspire their rule of life and apostolic works, as well as the actions and lives of their members. Religious commnnities, inasmuch as they resemble liv-ing bodies, rightly desire to experience continual growth. However, this growth of the institute must be based firmly on the more diligent observance of the rules rather ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li~e VOLUME 23, 1964 701 ÷ Paul ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than on the number of members or the making of new laws. Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life. It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them. Therefore, let the general chapters always use their right to make laws moderately and prudently. The most important work of the general chapter is the studied accommodation of the rules of the institute to the changed conditions of the times. This, however, must be done in such a way that the proper nature and discipline of the institute are kept intact. Every religious family has its proper function, and it must remain faithful to this role. The fruitfulness of the institute's life is based on this fidelity to its specific purpose, and in this manner an abundance of heavenly graces will never be lacking. Therefore, no renovation of discipline is to be introduced which is incompatible with the nature of the order or congregation and which, in any way, departs from the mind of the founder. Moreover, this renovation of dis-cipline demands that it proceed only from competent authority. Accordingly, until this accommodation of dis-cipline is duly processed and brought into juridic effect, let the religious members not introduce anything new on their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline, nor give way to censorious criticism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter of the rule will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same. In bringing about this renewal of religious institutes, the primary concern of the capitulars must always be the spiritual life of the members. Wherefore, to all religious whose duty it is to devote themselves to works of the sacred ministry, We state that We are entirely opposed to anyone espousing that false opinion which claims that primary concern must be given to external works and only secondary attention devoted to the interior life of perfection, as though this were demanded by the spirit of the times anal the needs of the Church. Zealous activity and the cultivation of one's interior life should not bring any harm to each other; indeed, they require the closest union, in order that both may ever proceed with equal pace and progress. Therefore, let zeal for prayer, the beauty of a pure conscience, patience in adversity, active and vibrant charity devoted to the salva-tion of souls, increase in union with fervent works. When these virtues are neglected, not only will apostolic labor lack vigor and fruitfulness, but the spirit also will grad-ually lose fervor. As a consequence, the religious will not be able to avoid for long the dangers which lie hidden in the very performance of the sacred ministry. With respect to that portion of the apostolate which is entrusted to the care of religious, We wish to make some further observations. Religious institutes should sedulously adapt the work proper to their apostolates to modern conditions and circumstances. The younger re-ligious particularly are to be instructed and educated properly in this matter, but in such a way that the apos-tolic zeal with which they are inflamed does not remain circumscribed exclusively by the boundaries of their own group, but rather opens outwardly toward the great spiritual necessities of our times. Nor is this enough. For while being educated along the lines We have indi-cated, they should also cultivate an exquisite sensitivity to their duties by force of which, both in words and deeds, they will constantly show themselves as true ministers of God, distinguished by soundness of doctrine and recom-mended to the people by holiness of life. However, in these matters let not the religious be left solely to their own initiative, since their work must always be subject to the vigilance of superiors, especially if it is a matter of work that has notable relevance to civil life. It is of the greatest concern to Us that the work of the members of religious institutes should go along harmoni-ously with the norms established by the sacred hierarchy. As a matter of fact, the exemption of religious orders is in no conflict whatsoever with the divinely given constitu-tion of the Church, by force of which every priest, par-ticularly in the performance of the sacred ministry, must obey the sacred hierarchy. For the members of these re-ligious institutes are at all times and in all places subject principally to the Roman Pontiff, as to their highest superior.~ For this reason the religious institutes are at the service of the Roman Pontiff in those works which pertain to the welfare of the universal Church. With regard to the exercise of the sacred apostolate in various dioceses religious are under the jurisdiction of bishops, to whom they are bound to give assistance, al-ways without prejudice to the nature of their proper apostolate and the things that are necessary for their re-ligious life. From all this it is quite evident how much the allied and auxiliary ministry of the religious given to the diocesan clergy conduces to the good of the Church, when their united forces result in more vigorous and more effective action. From these brief observations you now know what We consider most important for the growth of religious life in our times. May all these remarks show you with what ~ C. 499, § 1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religiom Liye VOLUME 23, 19(~4 703 solicitude We view and esteem religious life and what great hope We put in your helpful work. The road which We have pointed out tO you is certainly difficult and ardu-ous. But lift up your souls in hope, for the cause is not ours but that of Jesus Christ. Christ is our strength, our hope, our power. He will be with us always. Continue to diffuse the good odor of Christ as widely as possible by the in-tegrity of your faith, by the holiness of your lithe, by your great zeal for all the virtues. Meanwhile, as We thank you for your obedience, We pray God through the interces-sion of the blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, the fos-tering mother of religious virtues, that religious institutes may continue to grow daily and bear ever richer and more salutary fruits. A pledge of these truths will be Our apostolic blessing which We bestow in all charity on each of you, beloved sons, and on all your colleagues. Paul ¥1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~04 LUCIEN LEGRAND, M.E.P. Matthew, Chapter. 9, and the Three Vows In Matthew 19 and in Mark 10:1-31, we find in suc-cession the three pericopes on divorce, on the little children, and on the rich young man. They would perfectly illustrate a talk on the three religious vows. In Matthew, the first section ends in a call to virginity (Mt 19:11 f.); the second one extols the spirit of humility and of spiritual childhood which corresponds to the vow of obedience; the third part deals with poverty. Would this application correspond to the thought of the evange-lists? If so, what light would it cast on the value and the significance of the three vows of perfection? Matthew 19 and the Kingdom It is clear that originally the three sections must have circulated independently in the early Christian com-munities. Their grouping belongs to the later stage of the redaction of the written Gospels. The evangelists blocked these three passages together because they found in them a common theme. Now, in the text of Mark, it is difficult to trace any common idea that would con-nect the three sections. Vincent Taylor sees some kind of topical arrangement: "After a story about marriage, it seemed fitting to record an incident regarding chil-dren." 1 Then the episode of the rich man is linked up with the previous two on account of the "Evangelist's interest in the Kingdom and in teaching abbut sacrifice and renunciation." 2 In point of fact, both suggestions are questionable. Taylor must have spoken with his tongue in his cheek when suggesting that the topic of the children follows logically that of marriage; this is better a joke than an argument, for the standpoint under which children are considered has nothing to do with 1 Vincent Taylor, The Gospel according to St. Mark (London: Macmillan, 1955), p. 422. ~ Taylor, St. Mark, p. 422. ÷ ÷ ÷ Lucien Legrand, M.E.P., is professor of Sacred Scripture at St. Peter's Semi-nary; Banga!ore 12, India. VOLUME 23, 1964 7.05 ÷ Lucien Legrand, M.E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS marriage: they are not mentioned as offspring but as an example of a psychological and spiritual attitude. And as regards the observation that the three pericopes in Mark 10:1-31 are connected by a common interest in the theme of the kingdom, it should be noticed that, though this theme is actually referred to in the second (Mk 10:14 f.) and in the third section (10:23-25), it does not appear in the first part which, in Mark, deals with the question of marriage and divorce, a problem of ethics pertaining to the present world rather than to the king-dom. One has to turn to Matthew to verify entirely the suggestion of Taylor. It is in Matthew rather than in Mark that the three stories are connected by a common interest in the theme of the kingdom (Mt 19:12, 14~ 23 f.). Incidentally, this strengthens the case for a priority of Matthew in this section: the redaction of Matthew explains the present grouping of the pericopes; that of Mark cannot be explained as it stands: the text of Mark represents one more case of summary which in fact was largely a mutilation.~ Anyway, it is in the redaction of Matthew that the theological line is more clearly brought out. In Matthew, the grouping of the three pericopes was obviously deliberate: the evangelist focused his chapter neatly on the theme of the kingdom and the three pronouncement stories illustrate three ways of living "in view of the kingdom." For Matthew, celibacy, spiritual childhood, and poverty point to the kingdom. But in which sense exactly? How are these three attitudes related to the kingdom? To answer this question, we have now to consider the three pericopes separately; and since they happen to be ~ound in order of decreasing difficulty, we shall proceed back-wards from the third section to the first one; that is, from the clearest to the most enigmatic pronouncement. The Poor and the Kingdom The third part of Matthew 19 begins with the episode of the rich young man who comes to Jesus to ask Him how he can gain eternal life. Jesus first replies by simply 8 The case for a priority of Mt or at least of a proto-Mt has been ably argued by L. Vaganay, Le problOme synoptique (Paris-Tournai: Desclfie, 1954), pp. 51-85. Concerning the present passage, Vaganay shows that the saying on the eunuchs, though missing in both Mk and Lk, belonged to the source common to the three synoptics. Mk and Lk knew it but omitted it for stylistic reasons on account of its strong Se~nitic flavor that would have been unpalatable to Hellenistic audiences (p. 167; see pp. 211, 216). A more elaborate examination of the text may be found in our study on The Biblical Doctrine o] Virginity (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), pp. 38-40. recalling the main points of the Torah: "If you wish to enter life, observe the commandments" (v. 17). Then, upon a further question of the man, Jesus opens new prospects: "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell all that you possess." (v. 21). Beyond the ordinary walk of life, there is the possibility of becoming "perfect,'.' of joining the special, group of those who follow Jesus more closely. As it is narrated in Matthew, the episode implies the existence of two categories of disciples: the mass of those who do the essential by fulfilling the Law and the elite of the teleioi, the "perfect" who practice total renuncia-tion. Now, when the other two synoptic Gospels are com-pared with Matthew (Mk 10:17-22; Lk 18:18-23), they show a few slight verbal differences which eventually alter the meaning of the episode appreciably. First they do not speak of the "perfect": according to them, the man is not invited to join a particular group distinct from the others. Secondly, in the beginning of Jesus' reply, they do not have the words: "If you want to have eternal life, ob-serve the commandments." Their text does not suggest that the observance of the Law can lead to eternal life. Indeed, Jesus says according to Mark (v. 21) and Luke (v. 22)--and these words are not to be found in Matthew --"one thing is still lacking" to obtain eternal life: it is total renunciation. The overall picture is therefore quite different in Matthew on the one hand and in the other two synopo tics on the other side. Matthew knows two kinds of disciples: the "perfect" and the others; both, in their own way, can eventually reach eternal life. Mark and Luke on the contrary know two stages through which any disciple must pass: the first stage, that of the obedi-ence to the Law, is rather negative; common with the Old Testament, it represents a necessary but insufficient requirement. Beyond that, the disciple has to reach a higher level, that of utter dispossession of self. This divergence of outlook is confirmed by another detail. In Mark and Luke, the man who comes to Jesus is already a man of a certain age: he can say that he has been following the Law "from his very youth" (Mk 10:20; Lk 18:21). Now, Jesus says, it is time for him to take a further step. In Matthew, on the contrary, (and only in Matthew) the rich man is a young man (v. 20): he is going to make a start in life and it is now, at the outset, that he has to make a choice between two possible states of life. It is clear that Matthew adapts the saying of Jesus to the concrete situation existing in the Chnrch when the + + + Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 707 4. 4. 4. Lu¢ien Legrand, M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 7O8 Gospel was written. The text of Mark and Luke is more original. It represents a theme fairly common in the preaching of Jesus: the disciple must be ready to meet all the requirements of his calling (see Mt 10:37-9; 16:24 f. and par.). Matthew gave a particular slant to the idea. He read into the episode his theology on the ful-fillment of the Law, and mostly he brought into the words of Jesus an allusion to the Christian practice of the two states of life. Everybody cannot actually embrace absolute poverty. Private ownership is not unlawful. The ordinary Christians keep the use of their properties and, keeping it, can reach eternal life. It is only the teleioi, the perfect, who apply the words of the Master literally by giving up all their belongings. The word teleios is definitely secondary: it did not belong to the original saying of Jesus but to the organization of the early Church. Echoing either the vocabulary of the mystery cults4 or, perhaps more likely, the terminology of the Hebrew sects,5 it refers to the inner circle of those who have received total initiation and applies to "a life of perfection which may be freely chosen but is not necessary to ordinary Christian life . Thus does Mat-thew cut a distinction between an ordinary state and a state of perfection." 6 Absolute poverty is a requirement of this perfect life. The context that follows develops this point. It is very difficult (v. 23), indeed practically impossible (v. 24), for a rich man to enter the kingdom. By right the king-dom belongs to the poor (see 5:3), and it takes all the almighty power of God to bring a rich man to the atti-tude of spiritual poverty that will enable him to get access to the kingdom (v. 25). The ordinary Christian is still struggling to realize this utter dispossession of self that will bring him into the kingdom. The teleios is he who has already done it. Like the Apostles following Jesus, the perfect hav~ given up everything (v. 27); they ha;ce already entered the kingdom. Poverty is the way of the perfect, the sign that, for some, the kingdom is al-ready a thing of the present. The teleios is no longer fighting to squeeze through the needle's eye: he is an inmate of the kingdom. 4 In general, in the mystery cults, those who are initiated to the mysteries are not called teleioi but teletai or tetelesmenoi. Yet Pythagoras divided his disciples into ndpioi (children) and teleioi. See C. Spicq, L'Epftre aux Hdbreux (Paris: Gabalda, 1953), v. 2, p. 218. ~ See B. Rigaux, "R~vfilation des myst~res et perfection h Qumran et dans le Nouveau Testament," New Testament Studies, v. 4 (1957- 1958), pp. 237-48. n Rigaux, "R(~vfilation des myst~res," p. 248. See also J. Dupont, " 'Soyez parfaits' (Mt. v, 48) 'Soyez misfiricordieux' (Lc. vi, 36)," Sacra pagina (Gembloux: Duculot, 1959), v. 2, p. 153. The Children and the Kingdom The special interest of Jesus towards the children ap-pears several times in the Gospels (Mr 18:1-7 and par.; 18:10; 19:13-5 and par.; 11:25 and par.). This interest is not merely sentimental. The text under study gives the reason of Jesus' predilection towards them: "The Kingdom of God belongs to such as these" (Mr 19:14). Like the poor man, the child is a type: he finds himself spontaneously ready to accept the kingdom. As such, he is an example of what a disciple should be. What is the reason for this? What are the qualities which childhood embodies and which give it a prece-dence in the kingdom? In modern piety the child stands as a symbol of purity yet unsullied by knowledge of evil, or as a promise in its full bloom yet unaffected by the compromises of daily existence. Is it this that Jesus saw in children? It does not seem so. When Jesus sets a child in the midst of the apostles, it is not as a model of purity or of innocence but as a model of humility. Mark (10:15) and Luke (18:17) hint at the point in their parallel passages: one must receive the kingdom with the simplicity of a child. Matthew makes the point still clearer in the previ-ous chapter where he sketches a full doctrine of spiritual childhood. In Matthew 18, the disciples quarrel about their respective rank. To solve the dispute, Jesus pro-poses the example of a child, stressing his humility: "Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven" (v. 4). To have access to the kingdom, the disciple has to humble himself like a child. Indeed, one's rank in the kingdom is determined by his similarity with the child. The hierarchy of the kingdom is a reversed one for it is based on tapein6sis, on lowliness: "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Mr 23:12). The humility of a child is the standard according to which real greatness in the kingdom is to be measured. The child is a typical citizen of the kingdom because he is a tapeinos, a lowly and mean thing, not respected and often maltreated and hustled about by the elders.7 The kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these because they represent perfectly the meek to whom the new world goes by right of inheritance (Mr 5:5), the oppressed, the downtrodden who already in the Old Testament made 1This point of view may not be verified in the West where romanticism has made of childhood and of youth positive values which are made much of. It may even go to the extreme of the child being idolized and made into a tyrant. This attitude towards childhood is the consequence of the rehabilitation of childhood done by Christ and the Church. But it is not the spontaneous reaction of man towards children. Outside the West, the child will be loved + + + Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 709 Luden Legrand, ¯ M.E.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS up the community of the anawim, the group of the poor whom God chose to be His faithful remnant,s In Matthew 20:26 and following and its parallels, the type of the "servant" is presented in the same terms. The "servant" also is the greatest of all: in the theology of the Gospels, child and servant are practically synony-mous. As the child, the servant embodies the attitude of the "poor in spirit," of the lowly and the humble. Whereas "the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them" (v. 25), the disciples of Christ must not take such domi-neering airs. Their hierarchy is a hierachy of service. Those who serve best are the highest; and on the top of it stands He who rendered the greatest service to men by giving His life for them (v. 28): Jesus Himself was a servant (Lk 22:27) who did not come'to do His own will but the will of the Father (Mr 26:42 and par.). The dis-ciple must take the same attitude. Because the kingdoms of the world are based on pride and oppression, the kingdom of God must be based on obedience to God and service to men. This was already manifested during the temptation of Jesus in the desert when the new King, meeting the prince of this world, refused to begin His conquering career by an act of disobedience to God. In His baptism also, He appeared as the Servant of the Lord (Mt 3:17-Is 42:1). From that time onwards, obedience and humble subservience to God have become signs of ap-purtenance to the kingdom. It is because this sign appears almost naturally in the children that they can be con-sidered as the perfect image of the true citizen of the kingdom. Obedience turns man into a child and a servant oi~ God: it shows that.one is really a member of the king-dom which was once inaugurated by the act of perfect obedience of the Servant humbling Himself unto death and the death of the cross (see Phil 2:8). Celibacy and the Kingdom If the pericopes on poverty and childhood correspond to .well-known themes of the Gospel, the same cannot be said of the saying on the eunuchs (Mt 19:12) which concludes in Matthew the discussion on divorce at the beginning of chapter 19. We are dealing here with a hapax of thought; and it does 'not make things easier that this lonely saying, expressed in a puzzling manner, is recorded by Matthew only. Who are those voluntary "eunuchs"? The traditional answer is that Jesus means here consecrated celibacy. and petted but not considered as representing-a positive value. Concerning Jesus' outlook on childhood, see W. Grundmann, "Die Ndpioi in der urchristlichen ParanSse," New Testament Studies, v. 5,(1958-1959), pp. 201-5. 8 See A. Gelin, Les pauvres de Yahv~ (Paris: Cerf, 1953), pp. 30-52. Though this interpretation has been recently challenged with a backing of refined scholarship by exegetes of great authority? we think that it remains valid. For the audience of Jesus, the saying could not but refer to Jesus' celibate life; it might even have alluded to an insulting term used by His enemies. For the early Chris-tian readers of the Gospel, the application followed im-mediately to their problems concerning virgins and widows (see 1 Cot 7:8-9). This interpretation also corre-sponds better to the context of Matthew: the attitude of the Christian celibates who remain like eunuchs in view of the kingdom explains the hard requirements of Chris-tian matrimony (vv. 3-10). The best way to understand Jesus' exacting statements is to consider the conduct of some of the disciples who give up marriage altogether. This utmost renouncement shows what is expected from all the disciples. If all are not called to abstain from wedlock, all must have the same basic attitude towards the flesh: inner freedom and readiness to accept the sacrifice required by the Kingdom?° But another problem follows. Why should Jesus advise the disciple to live like a eunuch in view of the kingdom? What is exactly the meaning of this "in view of" (dia in Greek)? What has celibacy to do with the kingdom? Usually commentators find two possible explanations for the phrase "in view of the kingdom of heaven." it They paraphrase it either "in order the better to work for the kingdom of God" or "to enter the kingdom more ~ For J. Blinzler, "'Eisin eunouchoi: Zur Auslegung von Mt 19:12," ZeitschriIt ]fir die neutestamentliche Wissenschalt, v. 48 (1957), pp. 254-270, the logion had no real connection originally with the con-text it has in Mt: it did not belong to a discussion on marriage but to a controversy on Jesus' celibate life. Jesus was criticized £or being unmarried and called eunuch by His adversaries. Borrowing the in-suiting term used by His opponents, Jesus explains the reason o£ His state o~ life. Thus understood, the logion would be an apology rather than an invitation to celibacy. This interpretation loses much of its support i[, as we think, the logion on the eunuchs does origi-nally belong to the context o~ a discussion on marriage. Moreover, even i[ the original meaning o£ the saying would have been such as Blinzler suggests, it would remain that Mt put it in its present context and the problem remains of the meaning the logion took at the level o[ the redaction o[ the Gospel. According to J. Dupont, Mariage et divorce dans l'P.vangile (Bruges: Abbaye de St Andrfi, 1959), the saying reIers to the problem oI the husbands who had to live away from their wives. Their situa-tion can be compared to that o[ the eunuchs; yet they have to ac-cept it "in view o£ the Kingdom." This interpretation misses the reference to Jesus' own celibacy and does not explain the logion in its original form. :*J. Dupont, Mariage et divorce, p. 172, summarizing the inter-pretation o1: T. Zahn, Das Evangellum des Matthiius, pp. 592-5. n See M.-J. Lagrange, L'~vangile selon s. Matthieu (7th ed., Paris: Gabalda, 1948), p. 371. For a survey of the opinions, see J. Dupont, Mariage et divorce, p. 210. ÷ ÷ ÷ Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 711 4, 4, ÷ Lucien Legrand, M .E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS easily." The first interpretation does not correspond to the context which says nothing about apostolic activities. The second explanation does correspond to a general line of thought of the Gospels which insist on the neces-sity of giving up everything for the sake of the king-dom (Mr 5:29 f.; 13:44-46). Yet it should be noticed that, at least in Matthew and Mark, "a wife" does not appear in the list of the family affections and possessions one must be ready to forgo to have access to eternal life (Mt 19:29; Mk 10:29).12 There is no trace of catharism in the Gospels: marriage is not an obstacle but a sacred institu-tion established by God Himself and sharing in the goodness of the creation (Mt 19:4-fi). The comparison with the two pericopes that follow suggests another explanation of the phrase "in view of the kingdom." Poverty and spiritual conditions are not extrinsic conditions laid on those who want to enter the kingdom. It is not even accurate to say that they facili-tate access to the kingdom. They are rather the attitudes of those who are already inside: "The kingdom belongs [in the present] to Such as these." They manifest the kingdom in its inner nature. They show it forth as a kingdom of humility and obedience to God, as an eschatological kingdom differing radically from the king-doms of the world based on wealth and might. They are the marks of the new life breaking into the world. The poor and those who are like children testify by their very life that the last times have come and that the eschatological transformation wrought by the Spirit is presently initiated. The voluntary "eunuchs" give the same testimony. Dedicated single life is not a condition to gain access to the kingdom; it is a mark of heavenly citizenship. Through it, those "to whom it has been given" share already in the life of resurrection when "they shall neither marry nor be married but will be like the angels in heaven" (Mt 22:30). The virgins are the full grown citizens of the kingdom. They constitute the retinue of the Lamb, following Him wherever He goes (Apoc 14:4). Such is the meaning of being a eunuch "in view of the kingdom." It means preserving virginity because virginity is a feature of the life in the kingdom. A proper paraphrase would be "in order to be in har-mony with the life of the kingdom." la The Christian celibate has embraced this state of life to anticipate the conditions that will prevail in the kingdom. ~ Lk has added the wife to the list to make up for his omission of the logion on the eunuchs. Following a law of harmonization of the synoptic.s, often verified in the textual criticism of the Gospels, a number of manuscripts have added also "the wife" to the text of Mt and Mk; the Vulgate has added it in Mt but not in Mk. ~8 See Legrand, The Biblical Doctrine o[ Virginity, p. 44. Synthesis: Matthew 19 and the Three Vows of Perfec-tion It would be anachronistic to contend that, when. writ-ing his chapter 19, the evangelist had in view the three vows of perfection and the present pattern of religious life. Yet it can be said that Matthew 19 is the charter of religious life based on the three vows, for it was the in-tention of the evangelist to describe the main aspects of perfect discipleship which the religious institution tries to realize concretely. Matthew 19 describes a state of life proper to those "who want to be perfect." This corresponds to the life of the early Church and already to the situation of the pre-paschal community which Jesus had gathered round Him since, among His followers, there was already an inner core of a few disciples who had a more intimate contact with the Master, a closer association with the main events of His career, and a deeper initiation into the mysteries which He revealed. This "state of perfection" is described in Matthew 19 in reference to the kingdom, that is to say to the eschato-logical renovation promised by the prophets and fulfilled in the coming of the Messiah. It may be remarked that, in Matthew, the nineteenth chapter with its three sec-tions constitutes the introduction ("the narrative sec-tion") to the fifth "livret" of the Gospel, devoted to a description of the imminent coming of the kingdom, a part that will culminate in the eschatological discourse.14 In view of this, the three sections of the chapter could be adequately characterized as the three eschatological attitudes that portend the advent of the kingdom, an-nounce its coming, and realize it proleptically to a large extent. The "perfect" are those in whom eschatology is realized. In the present age, they show forth the condi-tions that will prevail in the age to come. They bear witness to the new principle of life which animates the regenerated world. Virginity shows that the new kingdom does not expand any longer by the fecun-dity of the flesh but by faith and the power of the Spirit. Childhood signifies that the power which is at work in the new order of things is not man's but God's might and the only way to share in it and benefit by its effects consists in humble acceptance of God's will. The poor are those who have sold everything to purchase the precious pearl of the kingdom (see Mt 13:45 f.): they scorn the riches of the world because they have inherited all the wealth of heaven. UAccording to the plan adopted by P. Benoit in the Jerusalem Bible (L'l~vangile selon saint Matthieu [Paris: Cerf, 1953]). Benoit follows L. Vaganay, Le probl~rne synoptique, pp. 57-61. ÷ ÷ ÷ Matthew 19 VOLUME 23, 1964 ,: 713' Therefore virginity is not solitude but fullness of agapd and unconditional gift of self. Poverty is not want but possession of the supreme treasures. Obedience is not servitude but service. In it, man's free will is not obliterated; it reaches its plenitude by being given the dimensions of God's will. Thus are the threevows the paradoxical but perfect picture of real love, richness, and liberty. They set the pattern of the iife to come and attract the world towards it. They do not cut man from the human condition; on the contrary, they represent the pole towards which man's life and even the whole cosmos converge in the new order of things inaugurated by the Resurrection of the Lord. + ÷. + Lu¢ien Legrand, M .E.P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 714, RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, S.J. Chastity and Psychosexual Development Psychoanalysis, just as any other theoretical position, has its contributions and limitations. One of its contribu-tions is the theory of psychosexual development, which states that sexuality, like other human processes, follows a consistent pattern of growth. That part of the pattern which refers to mental aspects, such as feelings, emotions, desires, and attitudes, is called psychosexual. It is the contention of psychoanalytic theory that there are definite stages of development which each must experience if adult sexuality is to occur. Psychoanalysis offers a detailed description of each stage. Although authorities question some aspects of the sequence, most will concede that sex follows an evolving process.1 It is not something that suddenly becomes a part of one's experience, let us say at adolescence, as once was thought. It is rather a systematically developing thing, beginning from infancy. The ultimate sexuality of the adult is the outcome of many factors, both developmental and environmental. If these factors have been favorable, the result is a mature, well-balanced person; if unfavor-able, art immature, neurotic person. According to psycho-analytic thought, the ultimate goal of the developmental process is the ability to have satisfying heterosexual rela-tionships. For the religious the vow of chastity closes the door on any future heterosexual experiences. However, he still retains his sexuality. When applied to him, therefore, the analytic theory of psychosexual development poses some special questions. What is the ultimate goal of sexual growth for the religious? Does the vow block the attaining 1 Robert R. Sears, Survey oI Objective Studies oJ Psychoanalytic Concepts (New York: New Social Science Research Council, 1943), passim; and Roland Dalbiez, Psychoanalytical Method and the Doctrine o] Freud (New York: Longmans, Green, 1941), v. 2, pp. 163- 85. Father Richard P. Vaughan, s.J., is professor of psy-chology at the University of San Francisco; San Francisco, Califor-nia 94118. VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, 8.I. REVIEW. FOR RELIGIOUS 716 of the final goal? Are there other possible ultimate goals? What effect does maladjustment at one or other develop-mental stage have upon the practice of chastity? Exaggerated Dualism Much of Christian spirituality has been based upon an exaggerated dualism which overstresses the spiritual to the detriment of the corporeal.2 Man is looked upon as a dichotomized being, composed of body and soul, the ani-mal and the human, the higher nature constantly at work subduing the lower nature. Sex, when viewed in this frame of reference, ceases to be an integral part of the total functioning man. It becomes an isolated process which is essentially animal. It becomes a semi-independent entity with its own energy system and mode of operation. As such, it is often at odds with the higher nature, whose chief function is to control unruly animal impulses. Such a view of sexuality is negative and likens the vow of chas-tity to an additional strong-armed guard who is ever on the alert for the slightest manifestation of sexual stirrings. When Sigmund Freud first introduced his psychoana-lytic theory to a predominantly Christian world, he met with immediate opposition. One of the reasons for this reaction may well have been the prevalent exaggerated dualism of his time. What Freud had done was invert the order of nature. In effect, he had allowed the so-called lower nfiture to take over and relegated the higher nature to an insignificant role. The sexual part of man became all important; the rational, unimportant.3 Actually, such an interpretation is far removed from the true mind of Freud inasmuch as his concept of man was not dualistic. Freud did not accept the Christian notion of body and soul, rational and animal. He saw man as a single, inte-grated, functioning biological unit. It may be true, as many think, that he overplayed the importance of the sex instinct; but he did not regard sex as an isolated process in any way independent of the total operating personality. Unfortunately, Freud used the dualistic terminology of his time, thus creating a wrong impression. However, if one examines his writings more deeply, he soon discovers that Freud went beyond the dualistic view and considered sexuality as an integral part of the total functioning per-son. 4 An exaggerated dualism which glorifies the spiritual to the detriment of the corporeal seriously hinders any -" Louis Bouyer, Introduction to Spirituality, trans. Mary Perkins Ryan (New York: Descl~e, 1961), pp. 143-62. nSigmund Freud, "Three Contributions to the Theory of Sex," Basic Writings oI Sigmund Freud (New York: Modern Library, 1938). ~ Adrian van Kaam, "Sex and Existence," Insight, v. 2, n. 3, p. 5. rapprochement between analytic theory and the Chris-tian concept of perpetual chastity. It is only when sex is considered as a manifestation of the whole person that some of the clinically proven findings of psychoanalysis can help us better understand the meaning of perpetual chastity and the difficulty that it presents to some religious. Sexuality, a Human Function Sexuality in man is not an animal function; it is a human function. It is a manifestation of the whole person. A man can express himself by reasoning to the existence of an infinite God, by creating an original painting, or by engaging in the sex act. All these acts are human. They flow from the same principle whereby that man exists and functions. It is the man who reasons, who paints, and who engages in the sex act. It is not his intellect, his artistic ability, or his sex instinct. Sexuality is intimately con-nected with every aspect of our being. It exerts an in-fluence on our other modes of functioning, such as our thinking or creating; these other functions, in turn, exert an influence on sexuality. A distorted sexuality will, therefore, exert a distorted influence and vice versa. It is precisely at this point that the analytic theory of psycho-sexual development has a contribution to make to the better understanding of Christian chastity. Psychosexual Stages Let us briefly consider the progressive stages of psycho-sexual development as proposed by the contemporary psychoanalytic school. Before beginning, there are two preliminary notions that should be mentioned. First of all, the term "sex" is used in a wide sense. It includes not only the reaction of the reproductive organs and related feelings and emotions but also what we might generally consider the purely sensuous. When viewed in this latter sense, a limited amount of sexual experience in early childhood seems more reasonable. Secondly, no stage is clearly distinct from the next; there is overlapping and merging. During the first year and half of life, the mouth, lips, and tongue are the chief organs of satisfaction. Inasmuch as almost all the other human functions are greatly limited, it should not be surprising that the infant finds such actions as sucking or biting gratifying. This is na-ture's way of guaranteeing the great strides in physio-logical and psychological growth that must be achieved during infancy. Growth depends upon the consumption of food. It should also be noted that this is a time of life when the totality of all one's concern centers on self. There is no such thing as "otherness" in an infant's love; he loves himself totally and completely. Everything out-÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 23, 1964 717 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 718 side of himself exists to keep him well fed and comfort-able. Sex at this stage obviously refers to the sensuous experience that comes from sucking, feeling full, warm, and dry. These experiences, however, have some relation-ship to what is generally considered sexual in the more biological sense of the word inasmuch as they involve a certain sensuous pleasure that is preliminary to biological sexuality. Any distortion in growth during this period leaves the individual, in varying degrees, with an inability to realize "otherness" in his love and the confining of love to self. Successful transition through this first stage estab-lishes feelings of security and trust in others, the foun.da-tion for the close relationship of love that should typify the married state. The second stage (the most controversial) covers the next year and a half of life.5 During this period the child must learn to control the processes of bodily elimination. Up to this time he has experienced a certain pleasure in letting the process follow its natural course. Now he is forced to forego this pleasure at the wish of an all-impor-tant parent who buys conformity at the price of love and approval. The result is a struggle within the child who wants both parental love and unhampered elimination. For a time he wavers between conformity and non-con-formity; he often becomes negative, restraining the elimi-nation as long as possible. Toilet training involves the first great demand to control impulse. How this training is accomplished will influence future self-control. If it is handled in a harsh, threatening, punishing manner, a spirit of rebellion and obstinacy is apt to result and per-sist in later life. If the training is accomplished in a re-laxed, understanding, yet firm manner, the child will have a good foundation on which to build the needed control of his future sexual impulses. The important aspect of this stage is the interpersonal relationship be-tween mother and childmthe child's struggle with con-forming or nonconforming in response to the mother's giving or witholding love and approval. According to analytic theory, malformation at this stage can influence later interpersonal relationships--the giving or with-holding of love in dealing with. others. Toward'the close of the third year, the child becomes aware of sex in the physiological sense and directs his attention toward his sex organs. In the process of so doing, he derives a pleasure which analytic thinking looks upon as truly sexual. Here, as in the first stage, there is no "otherness" in his action. He is prompted by pure self-gratification. Sexuality is directed toward the self. According to psychdanalytic thought, it is also during this ~ Dalbiez, Psychoanalytical Method, p. 167. stage that the sexuality of the young child becomes tempo-rarily attached to the parent of the opposite sex. In the normal course of development, the attachment is aban-doned and the child identifies with the parent of his own sex. The boy begins to imitate his father and assume mas-culine patterns of behavior; the girl, to imitate her mother and assume feminine patterns of behavior. If the identifi-cation fails to take place and the boy remains too closely attached to the mother and her feminine interests, the seeds of homosexuality and a neurotic condition may be planted. This period is followed by a time when sexuality plays a relatively minor role. During this stage the child is concerned with the learning of academic and social skills peculiar to the elementary grades. With the advent of adolescence, sexuality becomes very much in evidence once again. Now, however, it begins to be directed toward others. The boy becomes aware of the girl as a girl; the girl, of the boy as a boy. The path during this stage is often rocky. In his frustration, the adolescent may revert to solitary gratification which gives him the illusion that his troubles are forgotten and his tensions released. Moreover, it sometimes happens that he becomes attached to one of his own sex before finally settling on the opposite sex. This latter inclination accounts for the so-called adolescent crush or even some overt homosexu-ality. Maladjustment during this stage can.result in later compulsive masturbation and homosexual tendencies. Heterosexual Orientation The ultimate aim of psychosexual growth is hetero-sexual orientation. In this final stage, the individual is drawn to the full satisfaction of sexual intercourse. His sexual inclinations become definitely attracted to those of the opposite sex. This does not mean, however, that the individual must actually experience the satisfaction of sexual intercourse but simply that his sexual inclina-tions are attracted to such a satisfaction. Since sexuality is an expression of the total self, he may choose to express himself in another way and still be a mature person. The individual who fails to attain this final stage experiences no desire for sexual intercourse. This state is sometimes mistaken for virtue; in reality, it is a form of immaturity. The religious is a person who has given himself entirely to God. His dedication excludesheterosexual experience. Yet if he is a mature person, he appreciates the value of his sex powers. He is fully aware of his attraction to the opposite sex but freely chooses not to give expression to this attraction so as to be able to express more fully his commitment to God. If he is psychologically healthy, he does not deny, distort, or repress his sexuality; he simply + + ÷ Chastity VOLUME 2~1 1964 4. 4. 4, R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 720 chooses another goal, which demands the sacrifice of the fulfillment of his sexual possibilities. Commitme'nt and Sacrifice Every commitment calls for the expression of certain aspects of one's being and the abdication of others,e The dedicated physician is sometimes called upon to sacrifice his attachment to family life; the statesman in foreign service, his attachment to his homeland. In the case of religious, the commitment calls for the sacrifice of sexual experience so as to give one's whole attention to divine things. The vow of chastity implies a positive expression of the self. It does not mean a mere blocking or repressing of the sex powers but rather a fuller reaching out to God through the medium of the higher powers under the guidance of grace. To achieve this goal, abdication of sexuality is the cost. The deeper the commitment to God and His world, the easier should be the practice of the vow--providing immaturity in psychosexual development does not hinder the practice. Sexual Disorders Sex problems are" frequently the result of maladjust-ment at one or other psychosexual stage and the conse-quent failure to develop an integrated personality where all one's powers work together harmoniously. The reli-gious with a sex .problem to some extent still carries the unhealthy feelings and attitudes of infancy, childhood, or adolescence. If his difficulty is serious, chances are that malformation existed at each stage, one compounding the other. Since sexuality influences every other mode of ac-tion, the whole personality is distorted. The religious manifests a lack of harmony in his general functioning. It is for this reason that most psychiatrists hold out little hope of success for the person who announces that he has a masturbation or homosexuality problem and wants the psychiatrist to help him get over it. Psychiatry is not gear~ed to controlling will acts such as masturbation or homosexuality; it is, however, geared to the reconstruc-tion and development of a healthy personality. Its purpose is to promote over-all psychological growth which will allow the individual to utilize his powers and capacities in an ordered, effective manner. The approach is directed toward the development of the whole person. If psychi-atric treatment is to be successful, the religious must be willing to cooperate with this approach and not limit his efforts solely to the various ramifications of the sex prob-lem. van Kaam, "Sex and Existence," p. 6. Compulsive Masturbation Compulsive masturbation is a typical psychological dis-order which stems from a failure to.achieve sexual matu-rity. Fenichel states that masturbation is pathological un-der two circumstances: (1) when it is preferred by an adult to sexual intercourse; (2) when it is done with great frequency.7 Masturbation in the adult signifies an arrest in the normal evolution of the sex powers.8 Instead of turning the attraction out toward others, the individual with this psychological problem turns it in on himself. He reverts to an earlier level of psychosexual development. He fails to realize "otherness" in directing his love. During the turbulent years of adolescence, the insecure youth in his halting struggle to reach sexual maturity often regresses to the earlier developmental stage of self-gratification. Sometimes unaware of the full moral impli-cations (this is especially true in the case of girls), he devel-ops the habit of relieving sexual tension through the practice of masturbation. Frequently it is only after the maturing of sexuality that he is able to overcome the habit fully. A failure to achieve maturity results in a per-sistence of the habit even after adulthood has been reached. Before entering the novitiate, some young men and women are able to overcome the habit by the sheer force of will power, only to have it suddenly return a few years after profession. In many instances, these are reli-gious who never achieved a mature heterosexual orienta-tion. As far as their sexuality is concerned, they are still adolescents. While teen-agers, they felt uncertain and frightened when faced with the normal heterosexual con-tacts of young people such as attending dances and dating. Admission to the religious life closed the door once and for all on the possibility of such relationships. The vow of chastity, then, became a psychological defense instead of a free giving of self and a sacrificing of sexuality to attain a nobler goal. As a consequence, no effort was made to understand the "why" of their sexual feelings and to reorient them toward maturity. After some months or perhaps years in the religious life, they were eventually overpowered by their confused, immature sexual impulses and found themselves unable to cope with these .impulses. Compulsive masturbation is more apt to occur when there is a lack of satisfaction in one's life.9 Thtig thi~ frustrated religious, Who i~ unable to give :himself full~ to his c~lling, is more likely tofall into this' disorder. He may manifest a certain hostility over his in~tbiiity to socceed as 7Otto Fenichel, The Psychoanalytic Theory oI Neurosis (New York: Norton, 1945), p. 76. s Marc Oraison, Man and Wile (London: Longmans, 1959), p. 86. ~ Fenichel, Psychoanalytic Theory, p. 76. + + + Chastity VOLUME 2,~, 1964 721 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a religious and subsequently turn to masturbation as a means of gratification. Sometimes the act ceases to be a pleasurable thing and becomes an act of aggression turned in on the self out of hatred for the self. Since compulsive masturbation is a pathological symp-tom, the cure should be directed not toward the symptom but toward the reconstruction of the disordered person-ality. What is needed is the reordering of the total person. Rarely does it happen that compulsive masturbation is the only neurotic symptom. Homosexuality Homosexuality. is another pathological condition that in some instances appears to spring from distorted psycho-sexual development. During early adolescence, sexuality is somewhat adrift. It is only with full maturity that the individual becomes definitely heterosexually oriented. In the process of achieving this final goal, it is not unusual for the youth to become sexually attached to one of his own sex. Even in mature adulthood, a modicum of the attraction remains.10 In some, however, the homosexual attraction prevails, with the individual either having no attraction for the opposite sex or a nearly equal attraction for both sexes,n For centuries spiritual writers have been aware of the dangers of homosexual tendencies in the religious life. Much of the writing on the "particular friendship" gives every indication that such a relationship is a preliminary step to homosexuality. Since most retain, in varying degrees, some homosexual tendencies, it should not be surprising that spiritual authorities express con-cern. When sexual powers are deprived of their normal object, they tend to seek a second best. Lest too much emphasis be placed on this danger, there is a need to un-derstand clearly the difference between true friendship in the religious life and a "particular friendship"; other-wise charity, the essence of the Christian message, is apt to suffer. The homosexual is basically an immature person. His sexuality remains at the level of the adolescent. It can safely be said that in most instances he manifests a general immaturity, frequently accompanied by a degree of neu-roticism. His turning to his own sex and rejecting the opposite sex may result from a number of different fac-tors: (1) fear of the opposite sex; (2) early sexual experi-ences with a person of one's own sex, particularly an older person; (3) an overidentification with the parent of the opposite sex, "coupled with an unconscious hostility toward this same parent. While the causes of homosexual-lo Fenichel, Psychoanalytic Theory, p. 329. n Fenichel, Psychoanalytic Theory, pp. 328-3 I. ¯ ity are not clearly spelled out, there is sound evidence for some form of maladjustment in psychosexual, develop-merit, le Needless to say, the community aspect of religious life militates against the homosexual who enters this life. Unless he can achieve sexual maturity, which implies total psychological maturity, his chances of successfully leading the life are slight. The close contact with attrac-tive members of his own community presents a constant attack on the vow of chastity. It might also be added that under the usual conditions of religious life psychiatric treatment has limited value. In conclusion, it can be said that the well-balanced religious does attain psychosexual maturity. He freely chooses to express himself through a total cotnminnent to God and His world, which calls for a sacrificing of sexual expression. His love for God is no less an expression of the total self than the heterosexual experiences of the married. Immaturity in psychosexual development, how-ever, may seriously hinder the realization of the commit-ment inasmuch as any distortion of personality develop-ment detours one's energies in the direction of abnormal behavior and away from the object of commitment. n Dalbiez, Psychoanalytical Method, pp. 192-214; see also James Vander Veldt and Robert Odenvald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (2nd ed.; New York: McGraw-Hill, 1957), pp. 424-9. ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 23~. 1964 723 RICHARD A. McCORMICK, S.]. Psychosexual Development in Religious Life Richard A. Mc- Cormick, S.J., is professor of moral theology at Bellar-mine School of The-ology; 230 S. Lin-coln Way; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Our purpose this morning* is to explore psychosexual development in religious life: its meaning, importance, its manifestations, itg growth, its obstacles. To do this I suggest that we make a twofold division of material in our considerations: (1) psychosexual development in general; (2) psychosexual development in religious life. Psychosexual Development in General The term "psychosexual development" is drawn from modern clinical psychology. It is not a term, therefore, which stems from Christian ascetical literature or from scholastic psychology. In attempting to describe its mean-ing I shall describe its ideal term (psychosexual maturity). Those competent in the area of psychology would be glad, I am sure, to fill in the gaps and deficiencies of my impoverishing description. "Psychosexual maturity" is a certain degree of affective relational possibility.1 It refers to the ability of the in-dividual to enter into "harmonious dialogue with any-thing and anybody, without obscure anxieties, without incoherent aggressiveness, without exclusive posses-siveness, in an increasingly fruitful rhythm of ex-changes . ,, 2 Insofar as it affects social relationships, the first note of this maturity is the ability to deal with others in general as persons rather than as objects. But psychosexual maturity says more than the capabil- * This paper was delivered as part of a seminar on psychological development and the religious life held at Catholic University of America, June 11-22, 1964. a Marc Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety (New York: Macmillan, 1963), p. 24. ~ Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 24. ity of relating to others as persons. It deals specifically with a relational possibility to the opposite sex, and as such it describes a quality of one's growth as a male or female. This maturity has been further described as an instinctive-emotional growth which "tends to a polariza-tion of the sexual drive in an intersubjective relation where the synthesis of each partner is achieved--even on the genital level--in the actual relation with 'the other regarded as a person." 3 In simpler terms I take this to mean relating sexually to another of the opposite sex as a person rather than as an object. Relating sexually should not be understood narrowly, in a merely genital sense, but in the wider sense of an overall instinctive-emotional attitude. Whatever the final commitment of the person involved, "what is important is that he achieve an interior psychological experience of his situation in relation to woman as a person. The same is true, of course, for woman in relation to man."~ "Relation to woman (or man) as a person." What does this mean? And what is the distinct character of this instinctive-emotional relationship? Relating to someone as a person means that my entire attitude and conduct reflects his total reality and dignity--a reality and dignity founded in the fact that he is a unique individual meant to be a blueprint of no one save God in whose image and likeness he was created; possessed of an immortal soul; an intellect capable of his own original thoughts; a will capable of and responsible for his own decisions, desires, purposes; emotions capable of enthusiasms, of joy and sorrow of a unique kind; of a destiny which is so magnifi-cent that it is describable only in terms of God Himself. Relating to another as a person is perhaps best under-stood by its opposite, relating to him as an obfect or means--as a thing, somthing from 'which I want to get something, to be used, manipulated, fit into a scheme, adjusted, subordinated, and twisted to a purpose. Human sexuality itself provides us with the distinctive character of this relationship to another person. Analysis of human sexuality, both in its wide and genital sense, reveals that it has two inner senses or meanings. It is, of course, fundamentally procreative. It is also essentially expressive of the deep love which brings a man and woman together to share their lives and work out their destiny by mutual complementarity. One thing is clear, then, when human sexuality is studied carefully, as Planque notes: "That the sexual function has no meaning except as related to others, and related to others in the 4- 4- P xychosexua! Developmeng s Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 109. 40raison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 109. VOLUME 23, 1964 R. A. McCormick, sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS form of an offering." ~ There are two propositions here: first, the essential relativity or other-centeredness of sexuality; secondly, the character of an offering. Because of this basic other-centeredness of human sexuality, the-ology and psychology are at one in asserting that these goals will be achieved only through altruism of personal-ity. The distinctive character of this relation to another as person is, then, that of emotional altruism, of an offering, a self-donation, an oblation. It is to be noted again that the maturity in question does not refer to an actual mode of relational life. It says ability, possibility, capability., of an oblative rela-tionship, of a relationship of self-donation. In describing this capability of self-donation, modem psychology refers to a "healthy relationship to the opposite sex." This opposite sex aspect should not be misleading. It does not imply sexual expression or the married state. It states a condition or status of personality development. It says that the person is of such an overall maturity that a healthy sexual relationship is possible and that it can (even genitally) begin to serve the purposes of love. By contrast it says that if a person does not achieve the personality growth where a relationship with the opposite sex can be a sharing "and its typical expression a self-giving, the whole personality has failed to mature and this will affect the ability to love anyone in anyway. The emphasis falls on the ability to love. Thus Maturity consists.in the possibility of chastity or con-tinence-- provided the subject wills it--for love's sake. It is moreover quite conceivable that this maturity will permit., a celibacy oriented toward a different mode of relationM life and love of persons--social service or religious consecration in a positive possibility of chastity.° Such a maturity is said to be psychosexual. What does this mean? Generally it means that the achievement is the result of total personality development--not just, for example, of physical growth or intellec'tual endow-ment. It says both that it is the result of the harmonious growth of all personality factors (emotional, instinctive, physical, spiritual, and so forth) and that its manifesta-tions occur at all levels of the personality. More specifi-cally it is called "sexual" for at least several reasons. First of all, there is the importance attributed to the sexual instinct in this development by modern clinical psychology. Secondly, the relational possibility referred to earlier will always be stamped by the sex of the per-sons involved. Thirdly, the term is, quite naturally, generally described in terms of the man-woman relation- Daniel Planque, The Theology o[ Sex in Marriage (Notre Dame: Fides, 1962), p. 90. Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 112. ship leading to and found in marriage. Finally one of the characteristic expressions of emotional infantilism is sexual irresponsibility; hence psychosexual immaturity both gives rise to this type of thing and is in some sense the result of it. We have described in general the term or fulfillment which is called psychosexual maturity. Our concern is more immediately with psychosexual "development." This implies that this term or achievement is the result of a process of growth. Here we note two things. First of all, by describing the term we do not imply that it is a static state or that it is ever fully achieved. We should rather understand that this term is an ideal and that growth toward it continues through life. Secondly, in general this growth process is conceived by modern psychology as one beginning in the tenderest years and extending into adulthood to be continued by the very self-donation which it increasingly makes possible. More concretely, it can be said that "the child begins from a normally narcissistic position, evolves toward an object relation and should achieve a subject relation in which the other is experienced as another subject."7 In other words, the process is the gradual socialization of the sex instinct, its gradual evolution to the point where it serves the altruistic purposes of human love. This growth process is defined in terms of challenges to be met, obstacles to be overcome. The phenomenon is very complex and at some points disputed and unclear. The following summary foreshortens this complexity but it will have to do. In phase with the different stages of maturation there occur certain rhythmic oscillations of social interest. Thus, at first, the infant naturally makes no distinction between boys and girls. It is socially asexual or simply non-sexual. The child of two or three is bi-sexual, recognizing gradually that there is a difference between boys and girls, but taking no account of this in its social relations with other children. With the approach of the latency period the child withdraws to the shelter of its own sex; not exclusively, not pathologically, but simply as a natural process to allow the next phase of development to occur with the least possible turmoil. This is the stage at which the young boy of six will look on another young boy of six who plays with girls as a "sissy," and the girl of six on her companion who plays with boys as a "tomboy"--or whatever happens to be the familiar term of the peer-group. Soon, having made some progress through the latency pe-riod, the child feels emotionally strong enough to emerge from his own sex-group once more. Thus boys and girls of seven or eight or nine play happily together, recognizing that they are different but without segregation on this basis (other bases, yes: incompetence at the game, tell-taleism, breach of rule etc.). This is a hi-sexual or heterosexual phase. (The phase of de-fensive withdrawal into the shelter of one's own sex is called ~ Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 106. ÷ ÷ 4. Psychosexual Development VOLUME 2.~, 1964 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. A. McCormick, $.1. REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS a homosexual phase, but the term must be carefully used in this psychological sense so as to differentiate it sharply from its more usual connotation of sexual perversion. The defensive with- :trawal in question here is certainly not a perversion.) From this heterosexual phase, the child passes, with the onset of psy-chological puberty (a year or two earlier than physiological puberty) or the pre-pubertal phase referred to in our second paragraph, into a new homosexual phase (again, let us repeat that this means a withdrawal into the shelter of one's own sexual peers). It is easy to see that this withdrawal has an im-portant biological and psychological function: it enables the growing organism to take the great leap into sexual matur-ity without the disturbing stimuli of the other sex, or at any rate with these minimized. When the conscious mind of the growing child has learned, however inadequately, to come to grips with its new'found sexuality, the adolescent is then ready to enter the bi-sexual society once again. ~Thus, towards the middle of adolescence, one finds once again the child emerging from the defensive positions of its own sex, and heterosexual interests and play activities are sought once again,s In explaining this process some experts put more em-phasis on the psychological interiorization of sense and emotional experiences going on within the child from the moment of birth; others put less on such a structuralizing of early experience. At any rate, it is true to say that practically all specialists accept a growth process through several crises and e_xplain this process as leading ideally to the possibility of interpersonal relationships. It is this total development which I shall understand as "psycho-sexual development." To highlight the general importance of this develop-ment, let me try to locate it in a somewhat larger (than clinical psychology) context, the context of Christian living. The great commandment, in a sense the only commandment, is the love of God and of neighbor for God's sake. All other Christian duties are simply specifi-cations of this command. But not only is this a command; God's commands are affirmations about ourselves. In telling us that the great commandment is love of God and neighbor, Christ was actually telling us what is good for us and what we are. He was saying that our own comple-tion and fulfillment is to be found here, hence that ulti-mately our eternal h~ppiness depends on love and is love. If one is to find his life, he must lose it--in the divest-ment of self which is love. This love we call charity to highlight its supernatural origin, efficiency, object, and purpose. It is easy to conclude that just as love is the essential ideal of any state of life, so ability to love is the essential disposition, that which one should bring to it and that in which one grows through it. Every state of life is an apprenticeship in love. ¯ SE. F. O'Doherty, Religion and Personality Problems (New York: Alba, 1964), pp. 224-6. - " - " ¯ - The terms, so to speak, of our love are God and our neighbor. This is clear. But the relationship between the two is not always that clear. When we are commanded to love God and our neighbor, it is easy to imagine the two as distinct. In an obvious sense they are distinct. Yet in a very real sense they are not. St. John wrote: "If any man says I love God and hates his brother, he is a liar. For he who loves not his brother, whom he sees, how can he love God whom he does not see?" (1 Jn 4:20-1). The obvious identity here suggests the Mystical Body. Our love of neighbor is our love of God because, in a real if mysterious sense, our neighbor is God, is of His Body. Also "the good our love wants to do Him can be done only for our neighbor and it is in others that God de-mands to be recognized and loved."a What is astounding here is the correspondence between this theological reality and what I might call a psycho-logical reality. The theological reality refers to the union of God and man wherein love of man is transformed into and becomes love of God. The psychological reality refers to what we might call the dependence of our love of God on rove of men--in terms of dispositions. Oraison wrote: "In order that dialogue with God be possible, there must be an existential dialogue among men. Created love opens up the heart, primes it for divine love." ~0 What I think he is saying is that we learn to love God by learning to love men and that only by loving men can we grow in those dispositions which are basic to love of God. Con-versely, the failure to love another and others, which is ordinarily traceable to an arrested development, to an infantilism of self-enclosure, will also prohibit growth in love of God. The two loves just cannot be separated, neither onto-logically nor psychologically. If one does not love man he is de facto not loving God, St. John tells us. If one cannot love men, he will very likely be unable to love God, psychology suggests. And this is the enormous im-portance of psychosexual maturity. But if these two loves cannot be separated, they must be clearly distinguished. I mean that one may never assert that Christ's message can be reduced to the realities of clinical psychology, that grace and emotional maturity are synonymous, that the supernatural love of God is psychological maturity. Far from it. Loving God is not chiefly our doing. "The love of God has been poured into bur hearts by the Holy Spirit whom we have received" (Rum 5:5). It is simply to' assert the profound oneness and continuity of the *Vincent Rochford, "Who Is My Neighbor?" The Way, v. 4 (1964), p. 116. lo Oraison, Illusion and Anxiety, p. 43. + + + Psychosemml Development VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. A. McCormick, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS human personality, a thing we should expect if we grasp even partially the fact that man was created (and not only elevated) in the image and likeness of God. It is to assert that, while the two are not the same, the subject (man) is one and hence psychosexual immaturity can be a terrible obstacle to love of God.11 For the more we know of God, the more we know that He is relation, that His very being is "being-in-and-for-another." As man comes to know more about himself through clinical psychology, it should not be surprising that his Godlikeness becomes more obvious, that he sees he is made for relational life, and that everything in his makeup (including instincts and emotions) conspires to relational possibility or, as undeveloped, hinders it. And once we know that our eternal existence will be love of God, it should not be surprising that preparation for this life should be growth in the dispositions which are so important relationally and that these dispositions reach to the depths of our being. What I am trying to say most inadequately is that we will only learn to love, hence to love God, by loving our neighbor. Now we love as human beings, divinized through grace it is true, but still as human beings--not as disincarnate spirits. That means that our love is a matter of the spiritual, the intellectual, the emotional, the physical. Thus the other-centeredness which defines all (but or-dered self) love is a matter of total personality orienta-tion and development. In other words, the personal re-lational possibility of love is founded and depends on my maturity as a male or a female. Whenever we love, we love as man or as woman. Now being a complete male or female is precisely de-pendent upon a successful negotiation of the growth process which we have mentioned. It is that which condi-tions to some extent my ability to seek and respond to any other as a person. If I am emotionally immature, I will be affectively turned in on self, closed off to others, never able to transcend my own self-interest. Summarily, then, since this growth process has a great deal to do with my being a healthy male or female, and since being a healthy male or female conditions my capacity to relate personally (hence lovingly) to others, and since charity ~s to some extent this relation supernaturalized, it is clear that fulfillment of the great commandment involves some very human underpinnings, that it is tied closely to the dynamic drama of growth upon which clinical psychology has raised the curtain. We should expect this, for we are one. Assuredly grace can accomplish miracles See Robert G. Gassert, S.J., and Bernard H. Hall, M.D., Psy-chiatry and Religious Faith (New York: Viking, 1964), pp. 49-50. (thank God) and is probably forced to work overtime with most of us. But as a general rule, arrested psychosexual growth is a very poor foundation upon which to attempt to structure a supernatural life at whose heart is a rela-tional thing: charity. Psychosexual Development in Religious. Li[e Let us recall again that psychosexual maturity is affec-tive maturity, affective relational possibility. It is obvious that growth in supernatural virtue is a result of many factors: grace, prayer, sacraments, sound ideas, direction, self-abnegation, emotional maturity, and so on. When we speak of psychosexual maturity, we are not talking about this overall maturity or growth, that is, iri super-natural virtue. We are talking about one element or aspect in it and that a very natural, even clinical one: affective relational possibility. This is an instinctive-emotional cast or posture. It should be clear that it is, therefore, not something I can will into existence, grind into existence through repetition of unselfish acts, play into existence, flog into existence through penance, propa-gandize into existence through conferences. We are simply not talking about this type of thing, the type of thing which can be produced by a simple flexing of ascetical muscles. It is, then, very important to distinguish psychosexual maturity (and its development) from supernatural virtue (and its development). If I miss the difference I will either simply naturalize virtue or go to the other extreme and try to build a supernatural life without a sound sub-structure. This would be to dehumanize supernatural living, hence eventually to destroy it.12 The importance of psychosexual development in re-ligious life could scarcely be overemphasized. It has been said that if the married Iayman remains in the world to serve and save it, the religious stands apart from it to do the same thing. Religious life is, then, an attempt to respond to the call of love of God and neighbor in a very direct way. It is the direct love of service to others. And just as the Word redeemed the whole man, so the religious extends this redemptive action through time to the whole man. Anything else would be inhuman. "Our own sal-vation depends on loving as Christ loves. He cares for the whole man; and so must we if we are to love as He loves." a3 Religious life is, briefly, growing in love of Christ by donating oneself to the total needs of Christ's own. Loving the whole man means loving men as human beings, and therefore even affectively. The greatest hu- See O'Doherty, Religion and Personality Problems, p. 56. Rochford, "Who Is My Neighbor?" p. 117. + Psychosexual Dcoelopment VOLUME 23, 1964 ,4. 4. 4. IL A. McCormick, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS man need is to be loved. For unloved, I remain unloving, withdrawn, self-encased. But when 1 am loved in a full human way, selfhood, personal identity, a feeling of security, a sense of worth and dignity is conferred upon me--the very things which enable me to respond to others as persons, to love them. Thus it is clear that be-cause my greatest fulfillment is the other-centeredness of love (and charity), my greatest human need is for that which creates this possibility; that is, love from others, their acceptance of me as a person. Similarly my greatest gift to them is my self-donation to them because this is also their greatest need. Modern psychology, in uncover-ing the growth process which leads to the ability of self-donation in interpersonal relationships, has not only described a capacity; it has at once described a need. And in doing this it has painted in bold colors the practical content of any act of charity toward men. (As you can see, my perspective is a bit larger than that of mere psychology. It is that of Christian fulfillment.) Clearly, then, religious life which is love of Christ in His children, demands psychosexual maturity, oblative ability, affective self-donation. Without this maturity I risk just doing things for others without really loving them totally in the process. If this is religious life, it will produce dried-up hearts, sometimes hard hearts incapable of loving even God. For we must love as human under pain of not loving at all. The problem, then, which confronts us is: how is one to grow in this affective relational possibility? How can religious life promote such growth? Let me put it more concretely. Imagine, for example, an old religious of instinctively fine virtue, mellowness, and charm. We all know such wonderful people. In spite of lovable ec-centricities (they remain individuals, after all), what stands out so often is their sensitivity of feeling for others, their delicacy and eagerness in responding to the needs of others. They are genuinely spontaneous and happy in serving others; it is apparently easy for them and a source of genuine delight. Briefly, they are at home and adjusted in their deep other-orientation, even emotionally so. Our problem: how did they get this way? Barry McLaughlin, S.J.,14 has suggested that to promote such growth certain fundamental attitudes must be culti-vated: the attitudes of presence, availability, empathy, generosity, and fidelity. By cultivating these the religious presents himself to others; he decentralizes his person-ality from self and goes out to others, is free for them; he identifies with others' sorrows, ambitions, joys and be- ~' Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace and Religious Develop-ment (Westminster: Newman, 1964), p. 80 ft. stows himself by forgiveness and kindness. True enough. But practically how can we cultivate these attitudes? Do we not cultivate things which issue in attitudes? What i now propose is merely tentative. Regard it as a basis for discussion and enlightened disagreement. I suggest we approach the matter analogously through marriage. By seeing growth in marriage, perhaps we can isolate those elements which contribute to psychosexual development and then locate them in religious life. Love of God and neighbor is as much a commandment for and affirmation about the married as about anyone else. The ultimate vocational purpose of marriage in the Christian scheme coincides, in this sense, with the vocational purpose of any other state of life. When two people commit their lives and personalities to each other to forge a corporate "we," they undertake a sharing enterprise whose success and happiness is assured only to the extent that one's life is aimed at giving happiness to the other. One achieves fulfillment by undertaking the fulfillment of the other. "Marriage will be for a man a means of development precisely to the extent that, in full possession of their own personalities, the spouses will make a gift of self to each other and to their chil-dren." 15 But even this sharing and fulfillment must be seen in the Christian scheme as a schooling for something greater, an apprenticeship for fulfillment of the great commandment. As Frank Wessling writes: All of us, married or not, will save our lives by learning to love as fully as possible. If I am ever going to learn to love, I shall have to learn it in my marriage by loving my wife first of all. In that love I have got to see and appreciate variety and degrees, so that when I turn outward to the world and other persons, I am able to love variety and the degrees of goodt,ess I see there,ae By learning to love their own, they learn to slough of[ self-interest and open themselves to love of God and neighbor. Most people do not bring full maturity to marriage. As a Catholic husband wrote me recently: "Few people probably enter marriage adequately prepared for such totality of commitment--but it is a goal to be worked for." Most people have to learn to love, to appreciate the sacrifices essential to it. It is extremely difficult to hdmit practically that love really demands a sacrifice of self for the other. Generally, in fact, if a man and woman are not forced by some external pressure in the beginning to sacrifice themselves, they probably will do a less than a" Planque, Theology of Sex in Marriage, p. 94. lOFrank Wessling, "Is It Immature Loving?" America, v. 110 (January-June, 1964), p. 595. + + ÷ Psychosexual Development VOLUME 23, 1964 R. A. McCormick, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 734 adequate job of sacrificing, hence loving, on their own. Often enough the "pressure" which shatters the romantic illusions and demands very personal payments, personal preferences of others to self, is the child. It is almost providential that just as the couple is beginning to get used to, perhaps even a bit tired of, each other, attention is drawn away from themselves in a way which ultimately forges even a closer two-in-oneness. There is need to prefer others to self. They begin, slowly at first, to ap-preciate sacrifices and to perceive their meaning. As time goes along, they begin to choose them more frequently, even get accustomed to them. 0ther-concern becomes increasingly if unnoticeably (to them) a part of their life and outlook. Their thinking changes subtly over the years. The "we" dominates their planning and thinking. All the while ~their affective liIe has taken on .increasingly the color and tone of other-centeredness. Even their intimate sexual life becomes more more tender, consider-ate, partner-oriented---hence more mature. This process is a lifetime work, but what has been going on here? Clearly there has been growth. The affec-tions have been gradually drained of selfishness. The two have grown closer to each other as persons. The rhythm of their life has taken on a mutuality and reciprocity at all levels. They are identifying themselves as married, as one. But how? What is responsible for this growth? Many things, of course: prayer, graces of the sacrament of matrimony, reception of the sacraments, intimacy, flare-ups, forgiveness, little kindnesses, and so on. For the growth is total. But in so far as this growth is psycho-sexual or instinctive-emotional, I believe I see three elements which stand out at this stage: (1) the existence of an affective relationship toward each other, very im-perfect at the beginning, deeply colored by self-interest; (2) sacrificial acts which gradually purify the affective relationship, center it more pronouncedly on others; (3) at first under pressure, but then more freely chosen. Hence greater auto-determination and responsibility. Therefore this growth is attributable not just to an affective relationship and notosimply to sacrificial acts, but to such acts, resulting increasingly from free choice, within the context of such a relationship. This combina-tion has led imperceptibly to growth in relational possi-bility. Now try to apply this conclusion to religious life. What I wish to suggest is that we must find and promote these three elements in religious life if we are to foster continu-ing psychosexual growth in it. As for sacrificial acts, I think we need say very little. They are built into religious and community living. The second element, increased auto-determination, needs much attention. For religious life, especially early religious life, by training groupwise to a "foreign ascetical ideal" risks produ~:ing conforming automata--especially if we reflect on the early and immature age of entrance into religious life. The sooner the acts and practices of religious life can convert from "pressures" into freely chosen acts, the better. This means one thing to me: early communication of responsibility. I propose that we religious have been seriously defec-tive in this regard. Perhaps we have thought of "educat-ing to religious or community life" in rather external, even military terms. This can lead to identification of responsibility with mere external performance. Certainly the virtues essential to religious life make definite mini-mal external demands. In this sense there mnst be some external uniformity if religious life is to escape the chaotic and it obedience, to cite but one example, is to be identifiable as a distinct virtue. However, the matter of emphasis is important here. An approach to religious living, expecially in what we might call its "external" aspects, demands responsibility; ~or the various external tasks of religious life are simply practical demands, options, suggestions, or extensions of this or that virtue. Virtue implies choice, voluntariety. We should expect, therefore, that the more voluntariety there is, the greater will be the perfection of, for example, the virtue of obedience, the virtue of poverty, and so on. Hence if we are intent on training to virtue (and not simply to external performance) we will be concerned above all with practices which stimulate a more responsi-ble response. More specifically, poverty can be practiced just as well and as exactly by allowing the young religious to retain a certain amount of travel money as by making him ask for it on each occasion. Indeed, one would think that responsible poverty would be more likely produced precisely by such a practice. For it tends more to make dependent use of money a matter of choice, hence more responsible. Poverty is not simply "not having material things available." It is above all dependent use of mate-rial things. Its virtuous practice means that this depend-ence is voluntarily embraced for love of Christ. Of course there will be violations and abuses. But this is the price one must pay if there is to be growth in virtue. There are many areas in which we might profitably rethink our communication of responsibility in religious life: the daily order (for example, time of retiring, time o~ meditation), travel (for example, use of cars), studies, use of money, dealing with externs, adjustments to service of others, and so on. When we over-concentrate on the materiality involved 4- 4- 4- Psychosexual Development VOLUME 23~ 1964 " + ÷ ÷ R. A. McCormick, $.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ?36 (for example, performance of an assigned task), we tend to equate this with virtue, hence with responsibility. This emptieg the notion of responsibility as well as that of virtue with terribly unfortunate effects. Thus it is not uncommon in religious life to find responsibility identi-fied with control of the mop room. Clearly responsibility means more than this. It means just what it says: re-sponsibility in the planning process and in the process of execution. Furthermore, a unilateral approach (over-emphasis on the external) to virtue means that other aspects of the virtue are overlooked. For example, if one's entire emphasis where obedience is concerned falls on "doing what you are told," the virtue is robbed of its true richness. We miss the superior's duty to govern prudently, hence to make the fullest possible consulta-tive use of the subject's prudence. We miss the correlative and sometimes onerous task of subjects of making their reflections available to their superiors--always of course with the interior preparedness to submit wholeheartedly, even eagerly, when the superior's will is final and defini-tive. Finally, if unilateral overemphasis on a single as-pect of a virtue narrows the horizons of this virtue, it necessarily unprepares the subject for later and more difficult tests in this virtue. How many adult failures in religious obedience, poverty, charity can be traced to early failures in the communication of responsibility in the educative process? The analogue to the affective relationship in married life is friendship in religious life. I propose, therefore, that psychosexual development in religious life will be pro-moted by stimulating (1) the sacrificial acts so numerously present and available in religious life; (2) undertaken with increasing responsibility in early religious life; (3) within a context of human friendships. All are essential. For if there is no growth without freely elected sacrifice, there is no affective growth without an affective relation-ship. If I am right in this analysis, one sees immediately the enormous importance of friendship in religious life. For the attitudes which issue from it are "the marks of the charity of the religious man whose task it is to bear witness to the modern world of the possibility of love." 1~ Ifa religious grows in these attitudes, "he will learn the attitudes basic to Christian love. Subsequently he must seek to give his love for every man he meets the character and depth, of his love of a friend.'us I see the problem, then, of psychosexual development in religious life as depending heavily on the existence of friendship. My final remarks will concentrate on this 17 McLaughlin, Nature, Grace and Religious Developlnent, p. 83. is McLaughlin, Nature, Grace and Religious Development, p. 83. point. Affective relationships are going to exist in re-ligious life. We are made that way. It is important that they be sound; that is, that they be true human love. Hence, from this point of view, perhaps our best.practical contribution to psychosexual development is straight thinking about friendships in religious life and incorpo-ration of this thinking into our ascetical ideals. I strongly recommend a recent article by Felix Cardegna, S.J., from which I draw heavily and verbatim in the following paragraphs.19 Marriage is self-giving, self-surrender of the whole per-son symbolized by and attested to by physical surrender. Like marriage consecrated virginity is first and foremost a surrender, a surrender of my whole person, concretely represented and signed by my body. Out of love I lay my sexual secret, so to speak, my capacity for creative sexual love in all its richness in the hands of Christ. Just as corporal possession indicates the totality and exclusivity of marriage, so virginal renunciation spells the exclusivity and totality of one's self-donation to Christ. Consecrated virginity does involve, then, renunciation. But it is important to define exactly what the virgin renounces. There are, as Father Cardegna notes, four components: (1) the pleasure which accompanies the deliberate exercise of the sexual faculties; (2) the affec-rive development brought about by conjugal love; (3) children, the fruit of married love; (4) the affective de-velopment brought about by parental love. These are profound human values and run deep in the human personality. Only when I realize how deeply personal and mysterious and good is the surrender (and self-recovery) of marriage can I begin to see how deeply mysterious, beautiful, and positive is the virginal surrender and conse-quent renunciation. The sublimity of the religious' of-fering is spelled out precisely in the value of the thing offered. But does consecrated virginity renounce human love? By no means. Human love is more extensive than sexual love. Human love is in its essence not sexual but personal, a love between persons. Love's transcendence of self through self-donation does not necessarily involve physi-cal donation of self in sexual union, as we have seen. Indeed it is only when conjugal love can learn to forego intercourse at times that it reveals its truly mature char-acter-- a fact too often overlooked by the recent (and I would add "youthful") and almost hypnotic obsession with sexual intercourse. Because virginity does not re-nounce human love, it should not be presented as so ~o Felix Cardegna, S.J., "Chastity and Human Affectivity," REVIEW FOR RELmlOUS, V. 23 (1964), pp. 309-15. + + 4- Psychosexual D~oelo~m~ent VOLUME 23, 1964 737 R, A. McCormick, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "total" that there is nothing left for anyone else. This would lead to a glowering withdrawal from the human scene. Rather because the surrender is virginal, there is much left for everyone else--and that much is human love. While the virgin renounces married love and its nuances, he does not renounce the love that is human friendship. Indeed it is impossible to imagine a human person as involved in any kind o

Issue 68.3 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; ~Spiritu.a~ Growth ,~. --.,,Practicall~ Wisdom'iQ-UAoRFERLY 68.3 2009 - " Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2009 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~uah~y Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.3 2009 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 consecrated life stories. ~'~ I! The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York Regina Bechde SO, two centuries after New York became a large suffragan diocese of Baltimore, recounts its history-- which, as in dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from stories of its women religious. Looking for what was really going on, she finds the faith-meaning underneath the sisters' social and ecclesial achievements. 226 250 261 ignatian prayer Communal Examen Philip Shano SJ suggests ~ way of adapting the general examen found in the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises to a communal examen that can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful w~y. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Louis M. Savary re-examine.s how Ignatius's Fourth Week contemplation asks us to observe closely the way God loves us and to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional .and generous way. A Prayer Response Review for Religious 276 289 298 spiritual growth Job's Difficult Transformation Marian Maskulak CPS, making grateful use of Stephen Mitchell's The Book of Job, explores the spiritual changes Job undergoes and suggests their relevance to ourselves. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection The Central Paradox of John of the Cross James W. Kinn presents and, like a good teacher, emphasizes John's teaching for proficient beginners. Connecting through Prayer John H. Zupez SJ suggests a way of praying that gives us a greater sense of connectedness to God and to one another in our lives. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 3O6 313 practical wisdom When Pragmatists Become Mystics Rabbi Allen S. Mailer shares a variety of Hassidic wisdom sayings for our inspiration and for the deepening of our faith. AGame You Should Not Play Birney Dibble MD discusses the candor that people often find difficult around terminally ill patients. departments 318 Scripture Scope: Understanding the Psalms 323 Reviews 22 7 68.3 2009 prisms 228 Tsis a landmark issue of Review for Religious. You as reader will note that there is no Canonical Counsel article. From the first volume of our journal in January 1942 there was a department called Questions and Answers that dealt primarily with canon law issues for men and women liv-ing consecrated or religious life. The writer of this department was not identified. Likely the editor was the canon lawyer Father Adam C. Ellis SJ, one of the three founding editors. In volume 14 (September 1955) we find the first acknowledgment of an author for the Questions and Answers department. "The fol-lowing answers are given by Father Joseph E Gallen SJ, professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland." As a matter of fact, it seems that Father Gallen had already been doing the work in a couple of preceding issues. He was also a consistent contributor of articles dealing with canon law perspectives or with the implications of recently issued Roman documents throughout the decades from 1950 to 2000. In volume 44 (January 1985) Father Richard A. Hill sJ, professor of canon law at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, began writ-ing the newly titled Canonical Counsel arti-cle. After five years as contributing editor for Canonical Counsel, Father Hill asked to be relieved because of his responsibilities at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley and at the University of San Francisco. Review for Religious In volume 49 (July/August 1990) Sister Elizabeth McDonough OP became our Canonical Counsel editor. From that issue up to our past issue (68.2, 2009) she has contributed one hundred articles dealing with all aspects of the 1983 Code of Canon Law dealing with conse-crated or religious life. She literally has written a valuable commentary on the Code for all of us living consecrated life. Sister Elizabeth McDonough believes that she has completed her task, and has said she would appreciate having more time for her teaching and other writing. As of this issue, then, we have no department of Questions and Answers or its successor Canonical Counsel. As edi-tor, I hope that we will have occasional articles to update us on canonical issues as they may arise. I express my deep gratitude to Sister Elizabeth McDonough for her masterful contribution to religious life through this journal. Besides the fact that she writes clearly and concisely, I as editor was especially apprecia-tive at how prompt she was to meet every deadline over this twenty-year period. It is our intention that Review for Religious will publish the compilation of McDonough's Canonical Counsel articles as a readable disc/book in the fall of 2009. We intend that the disc-form of the book will allow for valuable and easy reference. Without trying to replace Canonical Counsel as a department, my advisory board encourages me and the staff to consider regular contributions in the liturgical area, especially with the revision of the missal, and also regarding the continuing development of new forms of religious life and affiliations. So the journal hopes to keep contributing to our living of religious life and our sharing it with the wider church. David L. Fleming SJ 229 68.3 2009 REGINA BECHTLE The Impact of Women Religious on the Church of New York consecrated life stories On a spring day in 2008, I stood in the majes-tic St. Patrick's Cathedral amid representatives of the 116 congregations of women religious serving in the archdiocese of New York. In the processional hymn, Benedictine Sister Delores Dufner's "Sing a New Church," we sang "summoned by the God who made us, rich in our diversity, gathered in the name of Jesus, richer still in unity." These words of struggle, promise, and affirmation can only hint the reality of women religious in dioceses all through the United States. Our story is indeed a rich and diverse one, focused in a grand unity.! The year 2008 marks the bicentennial of the establishment of four dioceses--New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Bardstown (Kentucky)--and Baltimore's designation as an archdiocese. The church in New York serves Regina Bechtle SC is Charism Resource Director for the Sisters of Charity of New York; 6301 Riverdale Avenue; Bronx, New York 10471. R~iew for Religious two and a half million Catholics in ten counties, from the urban density of Manhattan and the Bronx, to an underserved rural population in the north. The story of this diocese, like dioceses everywhere, is inseparable from the story of its women religious.2 The bicentennial invited us all to reimagine our story within the story of larger social and ecclesial movements, movements we helped shape and were shaped by. Let me suggest an image. Our seminary's excellent library holds many books about religious congregations and provinces connected with this archdiocese. Some use the pious, purple prose of the glory days, others pack a more modern, journalistic punch. But they all tell how communities came here, what needs confronted them, and what they did about those needs. Imagine all those volumes on the shelves, flanked by histories of the church in this country and region, bolstered by studies of the many immigrants who came here and by surveys on education, public health, child care, human services, pastoral ministry, catechesis, lay leadership, spiritual for-marion, race relations, community development, advo-cacy and action for peace and justice, environmental concerns, and global awareness. Now imagine all those volumes in conversation with one another, comparing, connecting, cross-referencing. Only an eavesdropper on all of those conversations could write the full story of women religious, the meta-story that cries out to be told in each diocese and in the country at large. My purpose here is modest. I speak not as an histo-rian but as a theologian and spiritual director who tries to listen both to a person's story and to the story under-neath the story. I listen to hear what is "happening" and what is "really going on." I propose to apply those questions to the stories of women religious in this and, 231 68.3 2009 Bechtle ¯ The Impaa of Women Religious in New York mutatis mutandis, other dioceses.3 What was happening during those many years? And what was "really going on"? In other words, how was God at work in it? How do we measure impact? I suggest we measure',impact by the tributes of a socie : 232 Measuring Impact First, a word about the meaning of "impact." For New Yorkers, the searing memory of 11 September 2001, of giant planes crashing into the World Trade Center's towers, forever colors the word's meaning. Yet over its lifetime this city, like most others, has absorbed the impact of many other traumatic events--epidem-ics from yellow fever, cholera, and influenza to HIV/AIDS; fires and floods; riots and gang wars; economic upheavals and finan-cial despair; wartime anxiety and loss on the home front. How do we measure impact? In New York City, where real estate rules and media coverage makes you or breaks you, some judge impact in terms of stone and steel, of buildings constructed, renovated, retrofitted. Some measure impact by best sellers and column inches, by prime-time coverage and website hits. Others mea-sure impact in the flesh-and-blood realities of bodies blessed and bandaged, minds mentored, hearts healed, spirits sustained. Impact is about relatonships as much as headlines. I suggest we measure impact by the trib-utes of a society, like the tens of thousands who lined the streets in 1896 to honor the passing of Sister of Charity Mary Irene Fitzgibbon, founder of the New York Foundling and conscience of a city.* Review for Religious Impact is measured in the halls of Congress by Sister Patricia Cruise SC and Sister Mary Rose McGeady DC testifying about the runaway youth served by Covenant House; by the words of Sisters Patricia Wolf RSM, Regina Murphy SC, and Arlene Flaherty OP, whose advocacy on behalf of justice in shareholder meetings and public forums has heralded the gospel in our day; by the lumi-nous theological writings of Sister Elizabeth Johnson csJ; by Sister Theresa Kane RSM calling in 1979 on Pope John Paul II to hear the desire of women to participate fully in the church; and by the gunshots that murdered Maryknoll Sisters Maura Clarke MM and Ita Ford MM in 1980 in El Salvador and Sister Barbara Ford SC in 2001 in Guatemala; by the vision of Mother Irene Gill OSU, who in 1904 began the College of New Rochelle, the first Catholic college for women in New York State, and Mother Buder RSHM, who opened Marymount College in Tarrytown in 1907; by the steadfast peace witness of women like Sister Anne Montgomery RSCJ and Sister Eileen Storey SC in Iraq and the West Bank. Even this hard-to-impress city recognizes the impact of these exceptional women. Yet they would be the first to protest that the vast majority of their sisters, the thousands of women religious who have served the people of New York, have lived equally extraordinary lives, only in a less public sphere. The everyday impact of their faithfulness has been felt for generations by families, neighborhoods, parishes, and institutions that never make the headlines. What Was Happening? The Catholic historian Gary Macy describes history as "the stories that we tell ourselves so that we know better how we got to be who we are.''5 Before I address what was happening, let me make a few introductory 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The lmpaa of Women Religious in New York remarks. It behooves us to tell the whole story, all of it, because that helps us to see who we are now and to believe we can be still better. We need to include the shadow as well as the light. We were instrtm~ents of social grace and social sin. We were victims of prejudice and injustice, but we were perpetrators as well. Until recently, women religious have not been telling our story well. Why not? One reason is that a certain understanding of the virtue of humility has conditioned us to be hesitant about promoting ourselves. Another reason might be that our entertainment-hungry, attention-deficient culture seems able to hear only a particularly loud voice. To tell what was happening, we might consider chapter headings like these for our story: ¯ Some Came and Stayed, Some Passed Through and Left Their Mark ¯ With Their Own Blood, Sweat, Tears-- and Money ¯ "Open a Hospital? But We Thought You Wanted Us to Teach" ¯ They Don't Trust Catholics, but They Want Sisters' Care When They're Injured ¯ How Many Communities in This Diocese? Only God Knows! Some of our communities started here on the bed-rock of this ever-changing place. Most were seedlings transplanted from elsewhere into its stubborn soil. All soon found themselves irrevocably transformed. Some came to New York and moved on, up and down the Atlantic coast, or west, into the heartland and frontier. Some came and stayed here. There was always plenty of work to do here, no matter when they came. We can imagine a common story line that begins with a letter something like this: Revie~v for Religious Reverend Mother Superior: We beg you to send Sisters to take care of [one or more of the following kinds of needy persons]: orphans, uneducated, sick poor, abandoned infants, girls working as domestics who are being seduced by their employers, youngsters needing to learn a trade, elderly folks, homeless, families at risk, immigrants who can't speak the language, people hungry for food and knowledge, Catholics who need to be counted and catechized. Please come yourself if you can, Mother, or at least send us your best workers--the strongest, the bright-est, the most fearless. We need you desperately. Respectfully yours, Bishop or Pastor or Trustee Also part of the story line, though rarely found writ-ten down in the letters, are facts and observations like these: ¯ Never mind that the house won't be ready for you. You'll probably have to count on the hospitality of another community until you find your own. ¯ We can't promise you much money--you'll have to raise most of it yourself. ¯ You may end up as martyrs to cholera, dysentery, influenza, tuberculosis, and violence and to the poverty of the poor you came to serve. ° You may find that the demands of your work make it hard, even impossible, to live your Rule, your way of living and praying that you cherish so deeply.6 What was happening? Two hundred years ago, in 1808, John Carroll was breathing a sigh of relief, after a fashion. Since 1789 he had been bishop of the one diocese in the U.S.A, a territory that stretched from the Atlantic to the Mississippi and from Canada to the Spanish Floridas. Now Baltimore was named .an arch-diocese, and Carroll's pastoral burden was lessened by the creation of four suffragan dioceses.7 The New York diocese comprised all of New York I! 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 236] State and part of New Jersey. The 80,000 inhabitants of New York included about 14,000 Catholics, mostly Irish, with some French and Germans, served by one Catholic parish, St. Peter's, on Barclay Street. In 1808 the non-Catholic majority of New Yorkers viewed the parish with disdain, and its mostly poor, immigrant con-gregation as uncouth, dirty, and decidedly lacking in proper religious sensibility. Also in 1808 a young widow was about to leave New York. She was a convert, and Catholic Baltimore seemed infinitely more hospitable than her native city, where the disdain could be hostile. I speak of Elizabeth Ann Bayley Seton, saint of New York. We cannot tell the story of women religious in this archdiocese without her, though she never lived here as a religious. The school she began in Baltimore became the catalyst for a new religious community. In July 1809, on donated land in Emmitsburg, in the Maryland hills, she (a Catholic for only four years) began the Sisters of Charity of Saint Joseph's. It was the first active women's congregation founded in and native to the United States. Elizabeth and her advisers modeled it on the noncloistered Daughters of Charity founded by Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac in 17th-century France, but they adapted the Rule to the circumstances and needs of 19th-century America. The language and faces Changed, but many of those needs remain today. To the Ursulines belongs the distinction of being the first women religious in the New World. They came to Canada in 1639 and to French New Orleans in 1727. Twelve nuns came from France to nurse, but soon found themselves teaching, caring for orphans, and working with wayward women. One of their novices wrote home: "We are determined not to spare ourselves Review for Religious in anything that will be for the greater glory of God.''8 Some Ursulines from Ireland came to New York in 1812, began a school that lasted only three years, and then returned home. In 1817, nine years after the diocese was established, Mother Seton yielded to the pleas of New York Catholics and sent, as a gift to her home church, three sisters to care for orphans in what was then St. Patrick's Cathedral parish on Mott and Prince Streets. At that time Catholics numbered about 20,000. Concerning the New York Catholics, Mother Seton wrote: "So much must depend . . . on who is sent to my 'native city' they say, not knowing that I am a citizen of the world.''9 Soon demands for sisters increased, as they were to do again and again in all our stories. Mother Seton had her native New York pegged: "so distracted a place." Later correspondents would be even more grim in their descrip-tion of the poverty, filth, and violence of the city in which sisters taught, nursed, and cared for orphans. Bishop John Hughes, known to friend and foe alike as "Dagger John," would later call New York "Babylon the Great." An estimated one-seventh of the city's population of 15,000 depended on public relief in the winter of 1817. By 1820, health and housing issues in the city were critical. In the economic slump after the War of 1812, a huge influx of immigrants and annual yellow-fever epidemics created what amounted to a continuous state of emergency.l° I To the, Ursulines belongs ,the distinction of being ' 'ihe first women religious in the New World, 68.3 2009 Becbtle * Tbe Impaa of Women Religious in New York 238 In 1827 Bishop John Dubois wrote that his flock included about 30,000 mostly poor Catholics, and com-plained ~that property in New York was very expensive. That same year several Religious of the Sacred Heart stopped in New York en route to St. Louis. In 1841 their congregation would return for good as the city's second religious community of women when Mother Aloysia Hardey opened on Houston.and Mulberry Streets an academy that would later move to Astoria. Catholic-and-immigrant is a recurring theme. In 1785, when St. Peter's Church was dedicated, people said the pastor needed to be fluent in six languages-- English, German, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Irish--to serve his two hundred parishioners. Today Mass is celebrated in thirty-three languages in the New York archdiocese, and most large urban dioceses report similar statistics. The numbers of Irish and German immigrants com-ing in the 1830s brought strong anti-Catholic feeling to the surface. In 1836 The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk was published, a slanderous account of cruelty and abuse in a Montreal nunnery. The falsity of it did nothing to keep it from becoming the best-selling American book before Uncle Tom's Cabin.~l Across the country, fear of immigrants and foreigners went together with a viru-lent opposition to Catholicism. The 1834 burning of an Ursuline convent in Charlestown, Massachusetts, was but one expression of anti-Catholic hatred. Yet, in the face of such rabid Nativist prejudice, over and over it was sisters--nursin.g, teaching, risking their lives for the poor--who gradually tempered society's perception of the church and of its immigrant flock. By 1848 one-third of New York's population was foreign born, swelled by thousands of Irish desperate to Review for Religious escape the terrible famine in their homeland. The eighty-two women religious in the diocese included a new group, the Sisters of Mercy. Mother M. Agnes O'Connor and six Sisters from Dublin, the "walking nuns," visited the sick in their homes, taught adults, took in young women seeking to escape from prosti-tution, and visited prisons. Mother Seton's daughter Catherine became one of their first postulants. In 1849 a cholera epidemic killed five thousand New Yorkers. In November of that year, the diocese's first Catholic hos-pital, St. Vincent's, opened with thirty beds, five doc-tors, and four Sisters of Charity. The needs of a rapidly expanding Catholic popula-tion prompted Rome to carve new dioceses from the see of New York: in 1847 Albany and Buffalo, and in 1853 Brooklyn (including all of Long Island) and Newark (including all of New Jersey). The area of the diocese of New York, named an archdiocese in 1850, had shrunk to one-tenth of its original size, but its people had grown to more than three hundred times its original number, between 300,000 and 400,000 Catholics?2 By 1855 over half of New York City's population was foreign born. It was known as the largest Irish city in the world and the third largest German city. In 1867 the Good Shepherd Sisters took in 275 young women who had been coerced into a life of pros-titution. Many of them were domestics whose employers By 1855; New York City ~as, known as the largest ,,Irish ,ei~in the World and the , third !argest German city, 23,9 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of FVomen Religious in Nay York had, in polite terms, ruined their reputations. Another 500 had to be turned away. In 1869 Sister Mary Irene Fitzgibbon SC opened the New York Foundling asylum. By the time of her death in 1896, this pioneer Catholic child-welfare agency had cared for 28,000 infants and many pregnant unwed and working mothers as well. By 1885 women religious supervised most of New York's child-welfare system, with more than eighty per-cent of its dependent children in their care. The New York Foundling (Sisters of Charity) and the Mission of the Immaculate Virgin (Sisters of St. Francis), the two largest institutions--along with those operated by Sisters of Mercy, of Divine Compassion, of Notre Dame, of the Good Shepherd, and others--provided a safe and caring environment for approximately 15,000 children.13 As needs grew, so did the religious work force. By 1875 there were about a thousand Catholic sisters in New York City. In ten years the number doubled. Child welfare was a major social problem. According to 1904 statistics, New York City harbored one-third of all insti-tutionalized and dependent children in the whole country. At the beginning of the 20th century, the archdiocese included 42 national parishes that served 11 different eth-nic groups. By 1911 women religious had founded three Catholic colleges for women: the Ursulines' College of New Rochelle (1904), the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Mary's Marymount College (1907), and the Sisters of Charity's .College of Mount St. Vincent (1911). In 1939, when Francis Spellman became New York's archbishop, this local church had over 2,500 priests, 10,000 nuns, and two million members. (It was also $26 million in debt.)14 What was happening? After World War II, in most U.S. religious congregations, there was a peak period Review for Religious of growth that lasted until the late 1960s. Those boom years and the winds of change that Vatican Council II set swirling deserve fuller analysis and reflection than is possible here)5 What Was "Really Going On"? I turn now to my second question: Amid all the facts and statistics in the story of women religious, what was "really going on" in, with, through, and even in spite of what was happening? How was and is God's work evident? I asked a few lay colleagues to describe the impact of women religious. A female pastoral associate responded, "Women religious have paved the way for the rest of us." A male theology professor replied that religious "have been gatekeepers of religious information, vital to identity formation." And from a male sociology profes-sor: "Women religious have helped us rethink our world and understand that mission is local and global." Some might find meaning in the story of New York's women religious by charting a trajectory: ¯ from assimi-lation to accompaniment, ¯ from competition to col-laboration, ¯ from convent lifestyles of cookie-cutter conformity to distinguishable diversity, ¯ from provin-cialism to global connection, ° from presence in institu-tions to presence to issues of our day. For others, the story of women religious in New York is a story of collective self-awakening that parallels the major social movements of the past two centuries, for example, from being the church's cheap labor force to being "catalysts to conscience.''~6 What was "really going on"? How was the Spirit present in our blind spots and flashes of light, in our so-called successes and so-called failures? What signs of 68.3 2009 Becbtle * The Impact of Women Religious in New York 242 God's moving and shaking, God's transforming energy and grace, can we notice? Underneath the narrative, faith always senses a deeper story, marked with the signs of God's pervasive presence. That story speaks of risk, of courage, of loss, and of love that transcends loss. It reveals themes of faithfulness, of relationship, of witness, and of power. It is a story much bigger than that of any one religious community. In assessing the impact of women religious, assess-ing what was "really going on," I offer four replies: (1) Faithfulness was (and is) going on. In the lives of the women named earlier in this article, faithfulness wore a highly public face. It shaped thought, molded institu-tions, awakened conscience, crafted public policy, acted and spoke out against ignorance, war, and poverty and for education, compassion, peace, and justice. Margaret John Kelly DC speaks of our legacy of "charity embrac-ing justice," a legacy that "generated energy as it moved from the hovels and points of entry in the 19th century to the halls and courts of power in our 21st century.''17 In their fierce fidelity, some among us are impelled by the Spirit to make private pain a public issue. In the lives of most of us, faithfulness takes a more ordinary form. (2) Relationship was (and is) going on. For example, there were relationships with the laity. Lay benefac-tors often saw needs more clearly than ecclesiastics did. Catholic and Protestant laywomen invited the Sisters of the Good Shepherd to minister to prostitutes in New York's prisons and almshouses in 1857. (Some while earlier, Archbishop Hughes would not acknowledge the fact of prostitution among Irish immigrant women.)~s From the earliest days, women religious knew that Review for Religious we could never carry out our mission alone, even though we sometimes pretended that we could. New York's first parish schools were begun by lay people, who soon invited sisters and brothers to staff them. The same was true in the first orphanages and hospitals, where lay managers, physicians, and clinicians supervised--and sometimes locked horns with--the sisters who served there. Before long, sisters assumed leadership of those same institutions and shaped them into vital providers of service in society. In our day, relationships are shift-ing again. Today, as they seek new ways to be in part-nership for the sake of the mission, religious and the laity depend on each other as never before. There were and are relationships with non-Catholics. Again and again, by their heroic behavior in epidemics, wars, and disasters, women religious won over the very Nativists and Know-Nothings who had vilified them. A prominent WASP (white Anglo-Saxon Protestant), Mr. Edwards Pierpont, exemplified the change of heart that sisters wrought. During the Civil War he told the Secretary of War that he wanted only a certain commu-nity of sisters to staff a military hospital in New York's Central Park, because they were "the most faithful nurses in the world." There were and are relationships among and between religious communities. In the early years, one arriving community after another was greeted with hospital-ity rather than aloofness or competitiveness by those already established here. In New York's urban vineyard, with plenty of work to be done, there were always too few laborers. In 1889, with the blessing of Pope Leo XIII, Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini and six Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart came to New York to work with Italian orphans. No one knew anything about the 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ Tbe Impact of Women Religious in New York convent they had been promised, so they spent their first night in a rundown rooming house. The Sisters of Charity took them in until a house hastily rented by a benefactor was ready. Unfortunately, that sisterly spirit could and often did yield to smug self-sufficiency. Rivalries, turf battles, and isolating rules kept members incommunicado from other congregations. Perhaps our large numbers and institutional presence during the peak years 1940-1969 inflated our corporate egos and narrowed our vision. Certainly, much of pre-Vatican II Catholic theology did little to dispose us to build bridges of understanding beyond boundaries. Today, happily, collaboration is a way of life for women religious. In theory and in prac-tice, we know that "none of us is as smart as all of us." (3) Witness was (and is) going on. Witness, intention-ally directed towards others, about what should be and against what should not be if God's dream is to be real-ized, expresses religious life's prophetic vocation. From our first days in this archdiocese, the not-so-subtle sub-text of our lives was: "Look. See. Pay attention. The poor are always among us--not invisible, not forgotten." The women religious who pioneered child-care insti-tutions in the late 19th century did more than mother countless orphans and foundlings. In a society that wanted to punish the poor for their poverty and ostra-cize unmarried women for their sexual conduct, they aligned themselves with the least ones. Their actions of compassion witnessed to the worth and dignity of every human being. Today our witness is the same: it is not about ourselves. It is about people in need, whether here or far away, in cardboard shacks on city streets or in huts with dirt floors in faraway parts of the world. "With whom do you believe your lot is cast?" asks the Review for Religious I! poet Adrienne Rich.19 Our answer has been clear: the least of Christ's sisters and brothers. (4) Power was (and is) going on. Interwoven with our stories are stories of power used and abused, for good and for ill. We have been agents and victims of power, subjects and objects of power. In our liminal status as neither clerics nor laypersons, we walk a fine line. As public persons in the church, we are subject to more sanctions and less freedom than the laity. Like them, we are closed off from much decision-making where we could exercise power for appropriate change. More than once we have given over our power and col-luded with unjust social and ecclesial structures. Diminishment, not power, seems the over- . ,~religious life today. riding theme in conver-sations about religious life today. But it is hardly the whole story. Our Catholic heritage gives us other angles from which to view the reality. We should look clearly and sensitively at things seen, but also in faith be sensitive to things unseen. The cold hard facts of the past forty years--declining numbers, more women dying than entering, the rising median age, retirement expenses, and cherished ministries sold, merged, or lost--do not tell the whole story, any more than the success and solidity of the 1940s and 1950s captured the whole story. The key question is: What wisdom have we learned from the success and the suffering that have been part of every stage of our existence? (And how do believers ~ i ~D~minishrnent, , not power, "~, ,seems tlie overriding theme ~ ¯ in, conversations about [245 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 246] measure success anyway?) As one congregational leader asked, "Do life's traumatic events serve as catalysts for transformation or stagnation in our religious congrega-rions?'' 2° What does all of it have to do with the mystery of dying and rising with Christ, the mystery of transfor-marion, that is the core of being Christian believers? In our beginnings, struggles, growth, and letting go, how have we tasted grace? Questions like these can move us to imagine an alternate view. We have claimed, explicidy and unapolo-gerically, power to create and re-create, to realize God's dream, in imitation and remembrance of the Jesus whom we vow to follow. We have used power to make a differ-ence in people's lives, to bring about change in society. Pope Benedict XVl recognized this in his address last year to U.S. Catholic educators: "Countless dedicated religious sisters, brothers, and priests together with selfless parents have, through Catholic schools, helped generations of immigrants to rise from poverty and take their place in mainstream society." We have used power to translate dreams and imaginings into buildings and behaviors, programs and policies; to shape the spiritual sensibilities of a people; to build relationships, widen the circle, and bring others to the table. This Spirit-story of power fought for and claimed, energy released and transformed, gifts shared and multi-plied, is the story of women religious. From what source do we draw this power? Does our deep life in God have anything to do with our story, with our impact? The answer may be obvious to us in religious life, but it needs to be voiced unambiguously. Not long ago Doris Gottemoeller RSM said of women religious, "We struggle to make our daily efforts transpar-ent to the love of God which animates us and the hope Review for Religious that guides us into the future." It is "the love of God which animates us," and it is that love alone which gives us the heart and energy of our committed response. I began with two questions: What was happening? And what was really going on? The course of these remarks has led me to two different but related ways of posing those questions, namely, With whom do we believe our lot is cast? And from where have we drawn our strength? Indeed, women religious in the church of New York and elsewhere have written a long scroll of faithfulness. We have aided people everywhere. The faithful witness of our efforts has changed public perception of religion and shaped public discourse about charity and justice. But our impact is most authentically measured, I believe, not by the visible standards of institutional presence or even the calculus of service, but rather in the incalcu-lable, invisible source of our energy and service, the passionate presence of God in us, the deep wellsprings of Spirit-life from which we live. No words, no story, can tell how God in us has touched our hearts and the hearts of others, and changed our world for the better. Matthew 2.5 makes it clear: it is love that matters. Surely, that final revealing of all that was obscure and hidden, that final tally of impact, will tell the story of women religious and their love--their immense, faith-ful, relational, witnessing, and powerful love--lived from deep within the heart of God. 1 This article is adapted from an address given at St. Ignatius Loyola Parish in New York, 3 April 2008, in a series commemorating the arch-diocese's 200th anniversary. Speakers were asked: "To what next step, to what new place, are women religious and our local church being invited? 68.3 2009 Becbtle ¯ The Impact of Women Religious in New York 248 What would the future look like through the eyes of your foundress?" 2 About 2,900 professed women religious live and minister in the archdiocese of New York. 3 Though this article focuses on New York, it is easily applicable to other dioceses. ~ Readers will know similar stories wherever they live. s "Diversity as Tradition: Why the Future of Christianity Is Looking More Like Its Past," Santa Clara Lecture, Santa Clara University, 8 November 2007. http://www.scu.edu/ignatiancenter/events/lectures/ index.cfm 6 For example, the Dominican sisters in Blauvelt, New York, a rural area in the 1880s, could not keep the rule of enclosure because their work with orphans required frequent trips to the New York City courtS~ 7 Thomas Spalding, The Premier See: A History of the Archdiocese of Baltimore, 1789-1994 (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1989), notes that Carroll did not want to foster a lot of strictly Catholic institutions, but rather "wished the local church to blend imperceptibly into the social fabric" (p. 62). The needs of the growing immigrant Catholic population would soon dictate otherwise. s [Sister Therese Wolfe OSU], The Ursulines in New Orleans and Our Lady of Prompt Succor: A Record of Two Centuries, 1727-1925 (New York: P.J. Kenedy & Sons, 1925), pp. 199-200. 9 Elizabeth Seton to Rev. Simon Brute, 1 August 1817, in Elizabeth Barley Seton Collected Writings, 4 vols., ed. Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC; ross. ed., Ellin M. Kelly (New York: New City Press, 2000- 2006), vol. 2, p. 494. l0 Christine Stansell, City of Women: Sex and Class in New York, 1789- 1860 (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1986), pp. 8-9 & 19. l~ See John McGreevy, Catholicism and American Freedom: A History (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2003). ~2 Thomas J. Shelley, The Bicentennial History of the Archdiocese of New York, 1808-2008 (Strasbourg: Editions du Signe, 2007), p. 171. ~3 Maureen Fitzgerald, Habits of Compassion (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006), p. 133. ~4 1 am indebted to Maureen Welsh SHCJ for compiling and sum-marizing many of the statistics used in this article. ~s See, for example, Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Review for Religious I! 16 Joan Chittister OSB has written that the purpose of religious life is to be "a searing presence, a paradigm of search, a mark of human soul, and a catalyst to conscience in the society in which it emerged." ,7 Margaret John Kelly DC, address to Catholic Charities of New York, 21 February 2008, reported in Catholic New York, 28 February 2008. 18 See Shelley, Bicentennial History, p. 356. 19 Adrienne Rich, "The Spirit of Place." z0 Mary Persico IHM, "Welcoming the Storm," LCWR Occasional Papers, Winter 2007. Deadheading Deadheading daffodils is sad but necessary work. When the rich yellow trumpet goes all papery and transparent it begins to draw life from the bulb which stores it for next year's flowering. So, like a minor executioner, I lop offheads - snip, snip, snip - watch them fall haphazardly to the gentler earth which gathers up old life to make it new again. Bonnie Thurston 68.3 2009 PHILIP SHANO Communal Examen ignatian prayer Father George Aschenbrenner's groundbreaking article of 1972 on the "consciousness examen" led to a renewed understanding of the tradi-tional Ignatian exercise and its dynamic role in our personal lives2 His work dealt with the personal examen. In recent years occasional efforts have stressed Ignatian spirituality's communal dimension. Among those efforts is the work of a group called Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP), uniting the dynamic of the Exercises with insights of group facilitation.2 Also, an entire issue of The Way Supplement was devoted to communal discernment.3 John English SJ's book Spiritual Intimacy and Community deals with it.4 It stresses our nature as members of a community and helps readers to reflect on discernment's communal dimension. Philip Shano SJ last wrote for us in 2008. His address is soon to be Canadian Martyrs Residence; 2 Dale Avenue; Toronto, Ontario; M4W 1K4 Canada. Review for Religious This article, however, is not about communal dis-cernment per se; the pieces mentioned above are good starting points for that purpose. This article simply describes a "communal" examen of consciousness, an exercise based on the realization that Ignatian spiritual-ity is applicable to communities, not just individual men and: women. Where is Christ to be found in daily com-munity living? Communities, families, organizations, and even nations can experience collective consolation or desolation, a sense of being connected with God's movements in the world or a sense of being separated from them. Spirituality is communal. Though Ignatius's definitions and rules in the Exercises apply primarily to persons' relationship with God, they are also applicable to communal situations, to persons' relationship with one another. The communal examen, then, can help the community as a group to attend to its daily life in a prayerful way. The communal examen adapts the general examen found in the Spiritual Exercises (§§32-43). I divide this exercise into two connected parts. The first involves guiding our community prayerfully through the steps of the examen--a loving and contemplative look at our life together. The second part invites dialogue or conver-sation so that we share with the others our reflections on our community's life. I will refer to the parts as the guided examen and the conversational examen. One of the attractions of the communal examen is the power of a community praying together. In an arti-cle on Jesuits and the liturgy, Robert Taft SJ, professor emeritus of oriental liturgy at the Pontifical Oriental Institute in Rome, makes a distinction between freedom and obligation in Jesuit communal prayer. He points out that Ignatius did not want his men to be obligated to [25! 68.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen celebrate the Hours regularly, but did want them to have the freedom to do this. He quotes a litde-known text. To his secretary, Juan de Polanco, Ignatius said: "We remain free to have choir when and where it may seem to contribute to God's greater service. Only the obligation is removed."5 In initiating the communal examen in my commu-nity, a Jesuit novitiate, my desire was that this exercise be truly communal. Early in our experience, we realized that, although we called it communal, it had a personal focus. As one member said, we were sitting with the others in a quiet space and praying about the week just past, but we were reflecting more on how "I" live in the community. The difference can be subtle, but our aim in our weekly examen is to move the primacy from "oneself in the community" to "ourselves as the com-munity." To that end I avoided using the pronoun "I" when I led the examen. The Method In our novitiate we keep the communal examen in .our weekly calendar. With few exceptions it takes place each Friday morning. We look in a prayerful and discerning way at the past week and then to the week coming up. The leader prepares the examen a day or two earlier, prayerfully considering what has been hap-pening. The leader asks himself: Where is the energy in the community? What are the Spirit's movements? Do people in the community look tired, or are they energized and upbeat? Are they engaged, or are they withdrawing? The leader has .tried to pick up the gen-eral flow of life in the community--at the dining-room table, in living-room conversations, in classes, at Mass, and so on. He does this not as an external observer, but Review for Religious as one of the community. He "listens" for subtle move-ments; he tries to be a discerning presence in the com-munity. (The leader should probably be the superior or some other person of authority in the group.) We spend about forty minutes on the communal exa-men. The first twenty or so are devoted to the guided examen. Then, after a transitional prayer, we begin our conversation, our dialogue. The guided examen uses the five elements of traditional conscious-ness examens. After an opening prayer, we begin with gratitude. Adapting Ignatius's words and making them relevant for this com-munity at this time, the guide invites the community to "give thanks to God our Lord for the benefits [we] have received" (SpEx §43). He simply and prayerfully reminds us of some of the highlights (either scheduled or spontaneous) in the community's life in the past week. After a few more guiding words, several minutes of silence follow, during which all get in touch with experiences for which they are grateful to God. The purpose of the leader's guiding words, of course, was to jog people's memories. Communities busy with many things may easily have forgotten some noteworthy things, or may have taken them for granted. Next the guide again offers, as at each stage, a few guiding points or questions and then leaves the group to silence. We pray for the enlightening grace to see our week as God's sees it and to use this time prayerfully. Third, and probably most significandy for the com- Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? 6g.3 2009 Sbano ¯ Communal Examen munity's discernment, we look again at things we are grateful for and then we pray for awareness of where and when we, as a community, experienced consolation or desolation, union of minds and hearts, or separation and isolation. What were significant moments in the community this week? Was there a lot of internal move-ment in the community because of a particular event? Which events are worthwhile for the community to go back and revisit, letting God's grace shine in a new way? My practice in this third step is to be as specific as pos-sible, especially if at some time energy and consolation were clearly present, or there were evident moments of desolation and a loss of energy. For instance, was there a very real source of tension in the community that week? Was there a jarring argument, or did a big public event cause concern? Did some event have a very positive and consoling effect on the community? In the fall of 2008, the election campaign in the United States was clearly having an impact on conver-sations in the living room and at table. Likewise, the community was not immune to the daily news of war, terrorism, economic turmoil, and political scandal. The ministry that novices were doing one or two days a week gave Mondays and Wednesdays a distincdy different feel at table than other days. There was usually an upbeat atmosphere as the men recounted experiences from their ministries. How do we let God's grace into the things that have an impact on the life of the community? All of this is fruit for prayerful reflection together. Our fourth step is to look at our sin as a commu-nity. That means looking to our relationships with one another or with others outside the community. It involves a look at our life as a community: Where or when are we wasteful of time or money, food or drink, electricity or Review for Religious paper? Where are we avoiding others? How are we as a community not attentive to our brothers and sisters in the city around us? What effect did the negative mood of one or two of us have on the rest of us? Are we hospi-table? As with the "discernment" step, it is helpful to be as specific as possible. In some areas we may know we are sinful or wonder whether we are. Perhaps a well-stocked refrigerator stands as a stark reminder of our difference from most peo-ple in the world. Or per-haps our garbage cans tell us something about our waste and the gifts we take for granted. Or maybe the fatigue and moodiness of one member has influenced all of us that week. If a community is honest, it does not take long to realize some communal sinfulness. Realization is one step. Sorrow is another. The final step is a hope-filled look at the week com-ing up, in the light of what we are learning about the week just ended. From what we know about our life together--both virtue and sinfulness--is there some-thing specific we should be especially attentive to? What special or ordinary events are coming up next week? Does anything there need special grace? What hopes and prayers do we have for next week? As with the earlier steps, here the leader offers a few guiding words and then leaves the group in silence. This much takes us about twenty minutes. After a simple transitional prayer, we go to the sec-ond part, the conversational examen, something notably different. The leader does not guide here. The members of the community raise points and offer reflections. The iMayhe the f ti ue and moodiness of one ,member has nfluenced all of us, 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen assumption is that they have thoughtfully focused on their life together and that their remarks will be more communal than personal. Dialogue is expected. The aim of this medium of exchange is to help the community itself grow in spirit and in practice. For instance, if one person says "I am disturbed by our community's sin of wastefulness," the hope is that others will respond either by asking for clarification or by adding their own obser-vations. Otherwise, an important opportunity for the community's growth has been missed. It is good when members recognize together how much the community has been in consolation, or deso-lation, in the wake of specific occurrences or choices. That can lead to shared thanksgiving and shared self-awareness (or community-awareness), or to shared sor-row for our communal sin and shared hope for the week coming up. Do we have commonly shared desires? That questi.on may involve subdeties that are hard to commu-nicate, but, when there is a prayerful disposition in the group, members can more easily hear one another. Some Other Things We Learned What have we learned about this trial-and-error exercise? First, the setting should be a prayerful one, but not overly prayerful. We used to conduct both phases in the chapel, but found that, understandably, it did not foster conversation. We took each other's words a little too sacredly there, and thus not communally enough. Then we tried using the chapel for the guided examen and a seminar table for the conversational section. That was all right, but it seemed two businesslike after our time in the chapel. Now we use a living room. The weekly communal examen helps us look at how we are living together in community: things that "work" Review for Religious by orienting us toward God and community, and things that lead to isolation and its attendant problems. Being a novitiate, we do that regularly anyhow, but the exa-men provides a prayerful setting for this to happen. It serves, in a way, as a weekly and prayerful community meeting. It offers us a chance to pray together in an easy way over the logistics and mechanics of how we actually live together. The weekly examen needs to have flexibility built into it. A good analogy is the personal consciousness examen. That prayerful habit changes and develops over time. Likewise, the communal examen needs to grow. A community looks and acts differently after a few months of living together.6 And, when new members move in, it changes and needs to develop new habits. Let me restate the obvious. The guides need to be in tune with the movements in the community. Their guid-ance questions cannot be generic or rote; they have to resonate with the community. Is there an ongoing issue that needs continual attention? VChat issue does this community need to attend to this week? In what ways are we in harmony with God's activity in the world? What do we need to be monitoring? Perhaps it is our tendency to overwork or overanalyze. Or are we weak at hospitality and just "wasting time" with one another and our guests? Do we neglect the playfulness or creative side of life in community? Do we mention the same discernments or the same kind or degree of sinfulness week after week? All of those things tell us something about how we are living. The communal examen needs to be adapted to this community's uniqueness. It can be a good way of being honest with one another. In our practice we end the exercise with a brief clos-ing prayer. I have thought, however, that it could be 68.3 2009 Shano * Communal Examen Guidance questions have to resonate with the community,: expanded, It could wrap up some of what we discussed in the second half. On the other hand, that may depend on whether the conversation has led to the resolution of something. Presumably, as time goes on, the group will deal better with issues that arise. In that regard, the hope for the communal examen is no different than people's hope that their personal praying of the exa-men of consciousness will help them keep growing and developing spiritually. One caution needs mentioning. Just because a com-munity is committed to the weekly examen does not mean that community members should store up issues till the formal exercise concludes another week. People should use the present moment and informal opportunities to deal with many things. The communal examen simply offers a chance to look back from the perspective of a week. It offers another occasion to commend or affirm each other--something that can happen naturally enough all week long. It may offer a better way of dealing with pat-terns of behavior. It can be a time of gende challenges to both individuals and community. It offers us the chance to take a long, loving look at our community living. More than thirty-five years ago George Aschenbrenner said, "We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and call-ing us.''7 Over the decades, we have grown to recognize the need not only for me tO pray better but for us to pray together better.8 Review for Religioua Notes ' George A. Aschenbrenner sJ, "Consciousness Examen," Review for Religious 31 (1972): 14-21. Aschenbrenner wrote a follow-up article about the examen in Review for Religious 39 (May 1980): 321-324. 2 Ignatian Spiritual Exercises for the Corporate Person (ISECP) was founded in 1977 as a joint Canadian-American project involving several Jesuits and their colleagues working to bring together some insights and methods based on merging group dynamics/facilitation with the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. It was based in the University of Scranton (Pennsylvania). The group still exists, under a new name and acronym, International Society of Community Engagement Professionals (ISCEP), based in Appleton, Wisconsin, with Judith A. Roemer OSF at the helm. Information and resources are available at www.iscep.org. 3 The Way Supplement 85 (Spring 1996), titled "Discerning Together." It offers articles by writers experienced in communal dis-cernment. It presents a way of doing communal discernment and deals with issues such as conflict, social sin and grace, and cross-cultural communication. q John English SJ, Spiritual Intimacy and Community: An Ignatian View of the Small Faith Community (London: Darton, Longrnan and Todd, 1992). 5 Juan de Polanco is quoted in Robert E Taft sJ, "Liturgy in the Life and Mission of the Society of Jesus," in Liturgy in a Postmodern World, ed. Keith Pecklers SJ (London and New York: Continuum, 2003), p. 51. 6 My experience is with a formation community that changes from year to year. The members, mostly novices, presumably change and grow amid new challenges and opportunities. The weekly examen will look a little different in a community that has more stability. 7 Aschenbrenner, "Consciousness Examen," p. 15. s Some of the ideas in this article are from my experience of working on the Leadership Formation Programme at Loyola House, Guelph, Canada, in the 1990s. This programme was offered prin-cipally to the Waterloo Region Roman Catholic Separate School Board. I acknowledge, too, my Jesuit novitiate community in St. Paul, Minnesota, USA, with whom I have been able to put into practice the communal examen. 68.3 2009 Shano ¯ Communal Examen Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. In our apostolic community, how might we adopt this approach to a communal examen that Philp Shano uses within a formation (novitiate) community? 2. What are the benefits to our way of living community life if we regularly schedule a communal examen? What are some pitfalls that we need to avoid if we regularly schedule a communal examen? I Confession We chase butterflies Fluttering fresh From the chrysalis of creation And entangle inarticulable wonders Of sorrow and delight In rough nets of words And pin them to the page. For the presumption, Lord Of our faded Lepidoptera Unable to survive The trauma of their capturing We ask forgiveness Even if not promising Never to sin again. Ian A.T. While Review for Religious LOUIS M. SAVARY Ignatius' s Contemplatio ad Amorem One of the most memorable experiences of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is its final exercise, commonly referred to in Latin as the Contemplatio ad Amorem.1 The title has been traditionally translated as "The Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love" or "The Contemplation to Reach Love," which is Jesuit Joseph Tetlow's interpretation.2 Notice that neither translation mistakenly says "obtaining" God's love, for Ignatius knows that we already are receiving that divine love in infinite abundance. Rather, in this experience Ignatius offers us a way to learn how to "reach for" and hopefully "attain" and "possess" the ability to love the way God loves. In line with this clarification, accord-ing to Jesuit George Aschenbrenner, some have sug-gested retitling this experience "Loving the Way God Loves."3 Louis M. Savary has given lectures and workshops on Teilhardian spirituality for many years. His address is 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. lousavary@yahoo.com 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Starting with the Contemplatio I have heard it secondhand that some well-respected Ignatian retreat directors, when presenting the Spiritual Exercises to those who have made the Exercises before, perhaps many times, begin with the Conternplatio. Starting at the end, though counterintuitive, seems an excellent idea, for at least three reasons. First of all, by beginning with the Contemplatio, sea-soned retreatants reconnect with where they left off the last time they made the Exercises. Reentering the Contemplatio during their first rediscover their wonder and cious presence in their lives, day in retreat, they quickly gratefulness at God's gra-and they recall the gener-ous and loving response they made to God in the "Take and Receive" prayer during earlier retreats. When they enter the First Week in this way, they are approaching the Exercises from a new vantage point, with gratitude and love for God renewed, and they are more likely to be open to making an ever greater (magis) offering of themselves to God during the coming days of prayer. The second reason comes from a beautiful insight of Michael J. Buckley SJ, who describes in his now famous article how Ignatius's four points of the Contemplatio recapitulate in succession the Four Weeks of the Exercises.4 By beginning an Ignatian retreat with the Contemplatio, the retreatants summarize--and anticipate, as it were--the various graces and spiritual dynamics they can look forward to during the coming "Weeks" of the Exercises.5 Third, other retreat directors have complained that they must sometimes spend a full day or two (of an eight-day retreat) just to help busy, stress-filled retreatants to slow down enough to experience God's presence. Beginning the retreat with the Conternplatio, Review for Religious the retreatants would probably feel immersed in God's presence upon noticing with greater awareness the coundess gifts of God they have been receiving in their daily lives. Two Spiritual Truths In his introduction to this contemplation, Ignatius wants us to be mindful of two spiritual truths. The first is that "love ought to manifest itself more by deeds than by words.''6 The second is that "love consists in mutual communication between the two per-sons. That is, the one who loves gives and communicates to the beloved what one has, or a part of what one has or can have; and the beloved in return ~ does the same to the lover. Thus, if one has knowledge, one gives it to the other who does not; and similarly in regard to honors and riches. Each shares with the other." What Ignatius describes here is the way God, as Lover, loves. God's loving is an unconditionally gener-ous sharing of the divine life with all that he loves. And the sharing is done in deeds, not just in words. The grace we are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how unconditionally God loves us, though this is a very nat-ural response. To stop there is to miss the main point. The grace we want is to respond appropriately to this divine Lover. To this end Ignatius, the great "technician Thel gra.ke We are to seek in this contemplation is not primarily gratitude and wonder at realizing how ,unconditionally God loves us. 263 68.3 2009 Savaty ¯ Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 2 41 of the sacred," designed this experience in four stages. At each stage he asks us (1) to observe closely the way God loves us and (2) to put into practice our love of God and the rest of creation in a similarly unconditional and generous way. In this contemplation, Ignatius has us observe God's love at four points, which I prefer to call stages, for at each there is an advance. At the first, we note God giv-ing us gifts. At the second, we note that God is pres-ent in the gifts and even in. the gift of our very selves. At the third stage, we take notice of God continuously acting (and laboring) in and through those gifts and in and through ourselves as well. Finally, at the fourth and fullest stage, we realize that God is personally sharing the divine Life with us. We find ourselves loved com-pletely and desiring to return that love in the complete way that God loves us.8 Four Developmental Stages The first stage of showing love is the giving of a gift in the form of a tangible object, like a carefully cho-sen birthday present. Ignatius expects not only that we will feel wonder and gratitude at the gifts a passionately loving God has given us, but also that we will hope to give gifts in return--as lavishly as we can. Even at this first stage, Ignatius brings in the theme of magis that permeates the Exercises. For Ignatius, actions are not done merely for the glory of God, but for the greater glory of God. No matter what we do for God, we yearn to do more.9 The second stage of showing love adds presence to the gift. The Giver does not simply hand over the gift and then leave, but remains present in the gift and is present to the recipient opening it. Review for Religious The third stage of showing love adds personal inter-action with the gift and with the recipient. The Giver does not merely stand by as the beloved opens the gift, but interacts with the gift and the person, perhaps by subtly showing him or her how the gift operates or can be used. The fourth stage of showing love goes much further. It is about sharing oneself--becoming one with the beloved. That is, (1) the tangible gift, (2) the divine presence, and (3) the divine interaction with the recipient indicate (4) that God wants to share the divine Life with the beloved's life; there is a bonding. In this contemplation we do not observe and reflect on these four stages of loving only to unite us and God in a kind of private spiritual communion. Such commu-nion is a wonderful thing, but it is only a preliminary result. Ignatius wants more. He wants us to be with God while these four ways of God loving us and all of creation are being shown to us, and then he wants us to ask God what, in a similar fourfold manner, God has in mind for us to do. This goes beyond a spiritual-ity focused simply on "me and God." It stretches us to include all human beings and all creation in our four stages of loving. Inspiring Teilhard de Chardin The Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin dedicated his revolutionary spirituality book The Divine Milieu "to those who love the world."1° Teilhard, a true son of Ignatius and pray-er of the Contemplatio, saw no con-tradiction between loving God with all our heart and soul and loving the human family and all of creation with all our heart and soul. For Teilhard, the human family and all of creation were, in fact, the living Body 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem of the Cosmic Christ. To love that Body is to love its Head, for the two are one being. The Divine Milieu can be summed up as a spirituality that shows us, as Ignatius would say, how "to find God in all things." Teilhard's spirituality begins with the Contemplatio and develops it to new heights. Like Ignatius, Teilhard would have us not avoid the world or try to withdraw from it (as many traditional spiritualities would have us do), but plunge into it with mind and heart for love of Christ. George Aschenbrenner, like most contemporary skilled and experienced interpreters of the Exercises, has been influenced consciously or unconsciously by Teilhard's thought on the integration of the sacred and the secular. It is a stretch to believe that Ignatius could have written in the 16th century the following para-graph of Aschenbrenner's, but he would have if alive today: The Ignatian pilgrim mysticism of service finds God in all things by entering carefully into the tangled human situation rather than by withdrawing from it. The special contemplative nature of this expe-rience [the Contemplatio] makes the service always radically religious, however secular it may appear. This radically grateful religious service can heal the sacred-secular split in your experience that often saps apostolic energy. ~l This perspective of finding and loving God in all things permeates the four stages of the Ignatian Contemplatio. To forget this "all things" perspective is to miss the grandeur and greatness of God's salvific plan for his creation. The First Stage of Loving: Giving Gifts At the first stage of the Contemplatio, Ignatius tells us that God gives gifts. He has said that love is shown Review for Religious in action. Giving gifts is an action; it is more than words. All of creation is God's gift to us. Creation is the Original Blessing. Teilhard would tell us to begin to list these divine gifts that science has revealed to us--including gifts that Ignatius in his day had litde or no awareness of, or of how and when they were given. For example, Ignatius had no sense of the vastness and almost fourteen-bil-lion- year existence of the universe with its galaxies, stars, planets--many hundreds of billions of them. Today, with the help of science in all its forms, we have come to recognize that God's original act of cre-ation has been continually evolving. Original simple particles at the Big Bang were attracted to other par-ticles to form connections and unions. As these new unions kept attracting other unions, creation evolved to higher levels of complexity. New chemical elements, more complex than those before, kept appearing. Over eons insects, fish, reptiles, plants, grasses, trees, and ani-mals appeared. Finally, hominids evolved. Over many hundred thousands of years, and before homo sapiens, many hominid forms came into existence and then became extinct. Eventually humans created language, art, and music, forms of government, science, literature, and all the other elements of civilization and culture. And still evolution continues. Even St. Paul recognized that divine creation is still incomplete, still in process.12 Through discoveries in science and technology, we have come to recognize in our limited way the fundamental law driving evolution-ary creation--another gift of God. We have come to recognize the evolutionary law of attraction-connec-tion- complexity-consciousness that God has placed in every particle he created, and that this law is designed to 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem culminate in the spiritualization of all matter.~3 Through our faith we believe that all creation lives in, with, and through God in a divine milieu, and that there is noth-ing outside this divine milieu.~4 On the microscopic side, science has revealed the incredible complexity and activ-ity of each living being--the human genome, the tril-lions of cells that live in our bodies, each with its own highly complex intra-active life. Ignatius, of course, recognizes the gift of Earth itself, and so do we: all the beauties of mountains, plains, and skies, all the power of tornadoes, hurri-canes, tidal waves, floods, deserts, and frozen tundra. Nor can we forget the gifts humans have been able to give to each other and back to God, gifts such as civi-lization, music, art, literature, society, communication, transporta-tion, recreation, science, mathematics, architecture, entertainment, film, radio, television, computers. The technologies developed in the past century would have astounded Ignatius. We can add to Ignatius's list all the gifts we have personally received--family, talents, skills, education, opportunities, friends. Along with these are our five senses, our memory, intelligence, and willpower, our freedom to love and make commitments, our accom-plishments, our team building, our worship. For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and, spirit. liberty, memory, understanding/ and will-areothe greatest gift we can offer to God,, Review for Religious Ignatius created his "Take and Receive" prayer to end each of the four stages of this Contemplatio. We can see how it summarizes especially the first of the four stages of the contemplation. We bring gifts to God, the gifts of our liberty, memory, understanding, and will. They are the best of what any human possesses: "You have given them to me; I return them to you, Lord. Everything is yours. Dispose of it all according to your will. Give me the grace to love you, and that is enough for me.''Is For Ignatius, these four capacities of the human mind and spirit--liberty, memory, understand-ing, and will--are the greatest gift we can offer to God. Today a psychologist might suggest adding things such as my imagination, my creativity, my physical energy, my talents, the skills I have developed, my contacts, my influence, my financial resources, and my experience. The Second Stage of Loving: Presence At the second stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God dwells [is present] in creatures; in the elements, giving them existence; in the plants, giv-ing them life; in the animals, giving them sensation; in human beings, giving them intelligence; and finally, how in this way he dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelligence; and even further, mak-ing me his temple, since I am created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty" (SpEx §2 3 5). We can for-mulate a prayer appropriate to this experience of loving presence. The "Take and Receive" prayer does not quite capture literally this second stage of loving, namely, that, in response to God's loving presence to me, my own presence to God is a loving gift in return. Although, traditionally, directors suggest that the "Take and Receive" prayer be repeated at each of the four stages, 269 68.3 2009 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem Ignatius allows the retreatant to proceed "in the manner described in the first point, or in any other way I feel to be better.'n7 Perhaps such a second-stage prayer, emphasizing mutual presence, might go something like this: Just as you, God, remain present in your gifts--giv-ing them existence, life, and purpose--and just as you remain present to me, I choose to remain actively pres-ent in the gifts I offer to you, God, by not wasting them or disregarding them or neglecting to use them, but rejoicing in using them for your purposes and for your greater glory. In my loving of you, I wish also to remain present to you. To do this, I beg the grace to remain conscious that I am working side by side with you and with Christ helping to build the Great Christ Body. The Third Stage of Loving: Cooperative Interaction The third stage of loving focuses on personal inter-action. In Ignatius's words, "I will consider how God labors and works for me in all the creatures on the face of the earth; that is, he acts in the manner of one who is laboring. For example, he is working in the heavens, elements, plants, fruits, catde, and all the rest--giving them their existence, conserving them, concurring with their vegetative and sensitive activities, and so forth" (SpEx §236). God keeps, acting in and through those gifts, as well as in and through the beloved. God does not just act once and then stop. God continues acting and interacting at every moment with, in, and through the gifts of creation. By that continuous action, creation grows and develops; it becomes more complex and con-tinues to evolve in consciousness. For us to love in the same interactive way, we need to keep acting and interacting with the gifts we already possess and the gifts we are still being given so as to Review for Religious help creation to grow and evolve in complexity and con-sciousness. Here it is appropriate to formulate a prayer of sustained commitment to use our gifts to grow per-sonally and to encourage similar growth in those with whom we interact. This third stage of loving invites a new stage of prayer, one of interactive commitment beyond the "Take and Receive" prayer. It might be something like this: Ever-working God, in reflecting on your almost four-teen billion years of divine revelation and original blessing, I have come to recognize the law of attrac-tion- connection-complexity-consciousness that you have placed in me and in every particle of matter you created, and that this law is designed to culminate in the spiritual transformation of all matter. Therefore I dedicate myself, for your greater glory, to growing in complexity and consciousness by working alongside others--in Christ--with those talents and gifts you have given me. I will strive to find ever-new ways to spiritualize the material things in my life. The Fourth Stage of Loving: Mutual Indwelling At the fourth stage, in Ignatius's words, "I will con-sider how all good things and gifts descend from above; for example, my limited power from the supreme and infinite power above; and so of justice, goodness, piety, mercy, and so forth--just as the rays come down from the sun, or the rains from their source" (SpEx §2 3 7). God shares the divine Self with the beloved. God does not only give gifts that are external to himself, as it were, but gives himself to us as an involved, interactive personal presence--like the sun's rays are giving us the sun itself, bringing an active and interactive presence. The incarnation of the divine Word is one way God shares the divine Self and demonstrates this fourth stage 271 68.3 2009 Savary ¯ Igngtius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 272 of loving. Christ's mystical incarnation in the Eucharist is another self-giving of God to us. In the Universal Christ we are offered a way to reciprocate this self-giv-ing love, so that with St. Paul we can say, "I no longer live, but I am alive in Christ.''7 At the fourth stage of showing love, Ignatius wants us to learn to live our day and our destiny within God the Beloved. We live out our day within and alongside our Beloved, that is, we remain present in the gifts we offer to God, acting in and through those gifts as well as in and through the Beloved. When Ignatius speaks of "finding God in all things," he is talking not about finding a mere Presence and qui-etly resting in it. That famous expression means much more. It means being with God all day long in our daily duties and activities, doing each thing with God and in God. After all, at every moment God is keeping every-thing in being, from the smallest microbe to the farthest galaxy. God and we are acting and working side by side (stage three) and as one (stage four). We are building the kingdom of God together--God in me and I in God.~8 In this way we become "contemplatives in action." As Aschenbrenner points out, "A busy disciple encounters many people in a great variety of situations, but the direct, immediate encounter is always with the Divine Majesty. A mysticism of service stretches your soul in an awareness of the fidelity of God's loving service to you.''~9 To express in prayer this fourth way of loving, we might say something like this: O Great God, I no longer wish to live and simply work for you. My deepest desire and the grace I ask is that I may live consciously in you and with you and, in Christ, that I may realize that my primary privi-lege and honor is to be a cell in the Cosmic Body of Christ. I wish to live and work no longer just as me, Review for Religious but consciously as belonging to Christ--on our way to you. I desire to know and see how the Christ Body as a whole is working toward its fulfillment, and I wish to cooperate consciously and ever more gener-ously with whatever you wish and desire. Something that has always surprised me about the Exercises is that, although Ignatian spirituality in gen-eral is quite Eucharistic,2° there is little or no mention of receiving the Eucharist or of the Eucharist's centrality in Catholic Christian liturgy and life. To me, the Eucharist provides the simplest and most profound synthesis of the Contemplatio, since it integrates simultaneously the four stages of that contemplation, namely, Eucharist as gift, presence, active working, and mutual indwelling. When the Cosmic Christ who lives today comes to the altar during the celebration of the Mass, there we find God in all things and all things in him. Notes 1 In the Latin "Versio Litteralis" of Ignatius's Spanish text of the Exercises, the Contemplatio is titled "Contemplatio ad Obtinendum Amorem." The Latin verb obtinere is not to be simply transliterated as "to obtain" or "to get," but rather means "to have" or "to possess." Interestingly, in the "Versio Vulgata" from Ignatius's lifetime, the tide is "Conwmplatio ad Amorem Spiritualem" followed by the words "in nobis excitandum" (to be aroused in us) in small print. 2 See Joseph A. Tedow SJ, Ignatius Loyola: Spiritual Exercises (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. 145. 3 George A. Aschenbrenner SJ, Stretched for Greater Glory: What to Expect from the Spiritual Exercises (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), p. 134. 4 Michael J. Buckley SJ, "The Contemplation to Attain Love," Way Supplement 24 (Spring 1975): 92-104. s For another development of this correlation, see Aschenbrenner, Stretched for Greater Glory, pp. 141-146. 6 SpEx §230. Unless otherwise noted, translated excerpts of the Spiritual Exercises are from George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1992). 68.3 20O9 Savary * Ignatius's Contemplatio ad Amorem 7 Tedow, Ignatius, p. 145. 8 Although Tedow lists these as "four points on how God loves" (p. 145) and shows how they are distinct from each other, I feel he does not adequately show their developmental or evolutionary character. 9 In the Exercises, magis typically means choosing one of two or more authentic goods as more (magis) conducive to God's glory than the others. Once a person has chosen the magis in a major decision (such as a life path or career), magis in later retreats can pertain to whether one is continually improving one's skills, cooperation, generosity, and so forth. 10 Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ, The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper & Row, 1960). The complete dedication ironically juxtaposes two expressions: "Sic Deus Dilexit Mundum: For Those Who Love the World." 11 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 147. 12 See Ep 1:10, Col 2:19. t3 Teilhard discusses this law extensively in his Phenomenon of Man. See also my book Teilbard de Chardin: The Divine Milieu Explained (New York: Paulist Press, 2007), esp. pp. 27ff. ~4 See Paul's speech in Ac 17:22-31. is Note that this final sentence of the Suscipe prayer, here taken from the Versio Vulgata, differs from that in the ~rsio Litteralis, which translated reads: "Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me." In the Vulgata, the sentence is about my love for God (that is, about learning how to love the way God loves); in the Litteralis, it is a prayer asking God to love me. See Thesaurus Spiritualis Societatis Jesu (Rome: Jesuit Curia, 1953), pp. 226-228, §234. 16 SpEx §235. In the Thesaurus Spiritualis, Father Jan Roothaan SJ, focusing in his footnote on the word "better," suggests a response dif-ferent from the "Take and Receive" prayer of the first point, a response that might better recognize the advance--the magis--reflected in this point's theme of presence. In later notes Roothaan makes similar sug-gestions, that colloquies reflect the magis, expressing increasing love in successive points. t7 See Ga 2:20. is If Ignatius were alive today, he might nuance his position to agree with many New Testament scholars who would probably use a different rhetoric here. They might want to make a distinction between building the kingdom of God and building the City of God. They would prefer to see God as the one who builds the kingdom or reign of God, with us humans offering our essential cooperation and contributions. And they Review for Religious might prefer to see us humans primarily focused on building the City of God, with God's total involvement, of course. Teilhard might solve the issue by saying that in Christ and with the Father we are together working to fulfill the divine project (the kingdom of God). In any case, Ignatius sees building the kingdom as a joint project. Also see Juan Luis Segundo, The Christ of the Ignatian Exerdses (New York: Orbis Books, 1987), pp. 90-103. ,9 Aschenbrenner, Stretching, p. 139. 20 For example, Ignatius urged members of the Society to attend Mass much more frequently than was usual in the church at that time. He celebrated Mass daily for discernment in composing the Society's Constitutions. He and his early companions took their first vows at Montmartre in Paris during Mass, and, when the Society was officially approved, they renewed their vows at Mass in St. Paul's Outside the Walls in Rome. A Prayer Response Lord, once again I ask: which is the more precious of these two beatitudes, that all things are means through which I can touch you, or that you yourself are so "universal" that I can experience you and lay hold on you in every creature? Some think to make you more lovable in my eyes by praising almost exclusively the charm and the kindness of your human face as men saw it long ago on earth. But if I sought only a human being to cherish, would I not turn to those whom you have given me here and now in all the charm of their flowering? Do we not all have around us irresistibly lovable mothers, brothers, sisters, friends? Why should we go searching the Judaea of two thousand years ago? No, what I cry out for, like every other creature, with my whole being, and even with all my passionate earthly longings, is something very different from an equal to cherish: It is a God to adore. The Divine Milieu [275 68.3 2009 Job's Difficult Transformation spiritual growth 2761 It seems that the story of Job never fails to capture readers' interest. To a greater or lesser degree, Job's experience reflects our experience. In The Book of Job,~ Stephen Mitchell provides both a dynamic introduction and a captivating translation of the biblical book. This article engages some of Mitchell's themes--such as submission, surrender, innocent suffering, pun-ishment, being a victim, and justice--as they relate to Mitchell's understanding of Job's main theme, transformation (Mitchell, p. xxix). I agree with that main theme, and I also think transformation is the theme of the sto-ries of all of us. This theme comprises and unites many other themes. Suffering--indeed, tremendous suffering--starts Job's transforma-tion and involves others: his wife and friends. Marian Maskulak CPS is an assistant professor of Theology and Religious Studies (with a special interest in spirituality) at St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Queens, New York 11439. The transformation moves from the innocent, submis-sive, and fearful Job to the rebellious and more compas-sionate Job, and it culminates in the Job who surrenders his whole being to God. Transformation requires hon-est acknowledgment of one's thoughts and feelings, and includes a growing understanding of God, oneself, and the world and a letting go of many previous ideas. Job comes to understand that limited and often narrow con-cepts of morals and justice are not to be ascribed to God, that innocent suffering is neither victimization nor punishment by a wrathful god, and that suffering and justice remain within the mystery of creation's God, for whom there is neither past nor future. The Bible's Book of Job consists of a prose prologue based on an ancient legend, the poem that constitutes the body of the book, and a prose epilogue. The pro-logue presents Job as a good, innocent, and God-fearing man who is enjoying a blessed and prosperous life. In a meeting between God and the Accuser, the latter con-tends that, if God takes away all that Job has, Job will curse God. God then allows hardship to befall Job: the loss of his children and his many possessions. Through all of this, Job remains steadfast in his conviction that God 'gave him all he had and then took it away. He lies with his face in the dust, as though prostrate before God, and blesses God. A second meeting between God and the Accuser results in God's allowing Job to be physically afflicted, short of death. Tormented from head to toe with boils, Job still refuses to curse God and maintains that, just as he has accepted good fortune from God, he must now accept bad fortune. This time Job sits in the dust. It soon comes to light that Job may better be described as a good, innocent, and "god-fearing" man who is unaware of his false conception of God. [277 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Tran~Cormation 278 The contrast between submission and surrender is important for Mitchell. The Job of the prologue "submits" to his plight, to the superior force of God. Mitchell suggests that one might agree with Job's wife who says: "How long will you go on clinging to your innocence? Curse God, and die" (pp. viii, 8). Mitchell does not develop this thought further, but it suggests two ideas to me. First, Job's wife has been suffering along with Job in "their" pain and loss. She knows that their experience of pain, sorrow, frustration, anger, and despair wants to cry out in fury. Life experience has also shown her that people who curse God do not automati-cally "die." On one level, Job's wife is challenging him to be a human being and to express his anguish and outrage. It is only by acknowledging one's true thoughts and feelings that one can appropriate them and grow. Mitchell recognizes this: "For any transformation to occur, Job has to be willing to let his hidden anxieties become manifest. He must enter the whirlwind of his own psychic chaos before he can hear the Voice" (p. ix). Second, Job's wife chailenges him by asking how long he is going to cling to his innocence. Here, perhaps, is the crux of Job's problem, as well as that of his friends. Rather than clinging to God, Job i~ clinging to "his innocence" and "his notion" of what he deserves, or how God should act because of his innocence. Job is authentically innocent, but even good qualities or prac-tices can become idolatry when they and one's own self become the focus instead of God. When Job finally cries out against God, his friends cling to this same notion that God must act in a pre-dictably benevolent way if one is truly innocent. It is as though being "innocent," being "good enough," requires God to act in cert~ain ways. This can be a disguised or Review for Religious subde way of trying to control or manipulate God. Even in the midst of his crying out, when his submissive self is left behind, Job "clings" to his innocence: "I will hold tight to my innocence; my mind will never submit" (p. 64). Ultimately God does not address Job's innocence at all. It is Job's truthfulness that God commends in the epilogue. According to Mitchell, Job's motive for goodness is, at first, fear of punishment and, after being stricken, fear of even worse consequences. Agreeing with Jung's assessment that the god of the prologue is morally infe-rior to Job, Mitchell concludes that the legend must not be taken too seriously: the god of the prologue and the Accuser are soon left behind (pp. ix-xii). Mitchell does not question why the author included the legend rather than omitting it altogether. One rea-son would be that the familiar story was a means for contrasting the poem's insights. I would suggest that the god of the prologue describes Job's god. This god, appearing as the cavalier business-god sitting at the top of the corporate ladder, is a good match for the Job whom Mitchell calls the "perfect moral business-man" (p. ix). I would also submit that this was the god of many of the author's audience as well. And since, as Mitchell points out, the patient Job of the legend rather than the desperately impatient Job of the poem became proverbial in Western culture (p. viii), it seems Even good qualities or ¯. ,practi~es can become idolatry ~, wh~en they :and one s own self ~ ~ bec~ome t~hefocus instead of God. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob'~ Difficult Transformation that this god has remained alive and well over the cen-turies. This god of the prologue bears no resemblance to the God of creation, the God of the burning bush, the God of deliverance from Egypt, and certainly not the God of the whirlwind to be revealed. Job's wife is right. This god needs to be cursed, and that part of Job which believed in this god must surely die. Job's companions, who have appeared briefly but silently in the prologue, do not agree with Job's wife. They never abandon the god of the prologue, and so, when they do speak, they provide crucial stimulus to Job's transformation. In Mitchell's view, Job's friends are supporting actors repeating the same arguments over and over. Because Job's questioning challenges their view of God and the world, they actually speak to their own fears rather than to Job. Mitchell believes that, while defending God's justice, they show that their god is a harsh judge executing their own harsh judgments. Mitchell makes an excellent point when he states, "Any idea about God, when pursued to its extreme, becomes insanity" (pp. xiv-xv). I believe, however, that, even when not pressed to an extreme, all perceptions of God are limited. I think that Job's friends play a greater role in the poem than Mitchell assigns them. For example, they are probably articulating Job's own theology up to this point in his life. Job himself admits, "I too could say such things if you were in my position" (p. 44). Another example is that Eliphaz highlights the Jewish theme of "the victim" when he points out that Job brought relief to many others and now it is his turn to be the victim (p. 17). Reflection on this thought alone raises more ques-tions. Does Job really believe that all the many people he helped in their misery were being punished for their sins? Probably so. But will he continue to believe it? Review for Religious One's view of the suffering of others is never the same once one has to grapple with one's own suffering. Part of the transformation that takes place in Job is apparent in his focus on the suffering of human beings in gen-eral instead of on his own suffering. Does Job continue to believe that people are victims of God's wrath? Not after experiencing the God of the whirlwind. As long as Job remains silent, his friends appropri-ately and compassionately remain quiet also. But as soon as Job cries out they cry out in return. They are not able to extend their silence of the first seven days into silent compassionate listening. This calls into question the amount of true compassion in their original silence. Mitchell says they have never experienced God (p. xiii), but it may also be true that they have never experienced extreme suffering. Job does suffer severely, which leads him to question God. "His question, the harrowing question of some-one who has only heard of God, is 'Why me?'" (p. xv). Mitchell calls this the wrong question, but does not say why. I believe that the "Why me?" question is too self-centered. It places the self over and against God, rather than in relationship with God. It clings to that argument, which says, "If I am good, if I am innocent, this should not happen to me." Or more pointedly, "If I am good and innocent, you should not be doing this to me." Later Mitchell sheds light on what the "right" question would have been when he writes that a question is answered which Job "wouldn't have known how to ask. God will not hear Job, but Job will see God" (p. xviii). His "see-ing" of God might better be understood as his "experi-encing" of God. I suggest that the "right" response might be "Who are you, God? And who am I in relation to you?" Or, more simply, "Reveal yourself to me." 281 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ j~ob's Difficult Transformation Anger or hate can ,be indicative of an underlying love. 2821 Mitchell claims that Job's outrage could not be so intense if he did not truly love God. He does not say whether he thinks the "moral businessman" of the pro-logue loves God. Rather, he compares Job to Othello, whose honesty cannot deny betrayal and whose love cannot believe it. Job accuses God for the injustice in the world, yet he senses some kind of ultimate justice (p. xvii). I agree that Job loves God. If Job did not care about God, he would not go on and on crying out. As Elie Wiesel has pointed out, indif-ference is more dan-gerous than hatred or anger.2 In a rela-tionship, anger or hate can be indica-tive of an underlying love that a person wants to be restored. As he cries out to God, Job is far from being indifferent. But, more importantly, Job is beginning to trust in God's love for him. Once the Job of the poem starts speaking out, he realizes that God is not punishing him for his accusa-tions. This gives him courage to become even bolder and more authentic. Although .it is not articulated in the poem, I believe that Job's love for God and his growing understanding of God's love for him are a crucial part of his transformation. God's response to this developing love is not, as has sometimes been perceived, the demand of unques-tioning submission. Mitchell rejects the interpretation which summarizes God's response from the whirlwind as "How dare you question the creator of the world? Shut up now, and submit" (p. xviii). He contends that there are answers to human suffering beyond theological Review for Religious propositions, but that the questioner must let them in. For Mitchell, the only answers to the great questions of life and death are personal ones, because the whole being of the person is involved (pp. xviii-xix). This is similar to Viktor Franld's belief that each person must find his or her own meaning in life, and his or her own meaning in suffering too.3 God's questions from the whirlwind ultimately dissi-pate all that Job thought he knew. "In order to approach God, Job has to let go of all ideas about God" (p. fix). Mitchell further understands God's questions as provid-ing Job with a vision filled with primal energy. It is a God's-eye view of creation before [human beings], beyond good and evil, marked by the inno-cence of mind that has stepped outside the circle of human values . What the Voice means is that para-dise isn't situated in the past or future, and doesn't require a world tamed or edited by the moral sense. It is our world, when we perceive it clearly, without eat-ing from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. It is an experience of Sabbath vision: looking at reality, the world of starving children and nuclear menace, and recognizing that it is very good (pp. xx-xxi). Upon my initial reading, this last statement par-ticularly came as a shock. My reaction was "No, the world of starving children and nuclear menace is not good!" I want to compartmentalize and say that the world as God made it is good, but children's starvation and nuclear menace in themselves are not good. Only by God's grace can they become the occasion for good. Mitchell seems to agree somewhat when he later writes that someone "who hungers and thirsts after justice is not satisfied with a menu. It is not enough for him to hope or believe or know that there is absolute justice in the universe: he must taste and see it. It is not enough 283 68.3 2009 Maskulak * ~ob's Difficult TransJbrmation 284 that there may be justice someday in the golden haze of the future: it must be now; must always have been now" (p. xxviii). Between his paragraph above and the sentence just above, Mitchell says there are no accidents and no vic-tims. He believes that, rather than being cruel, his state-ment reflects that, when one surrenders one's personal will and thus can see that all that God created is good, the past and future disappear (p. xxvii). This surrender to God is a surrender into mystery. He gives no other answer for why the innocent suffer. I can understand that from his chosen vantage point he can "see" that reality as a timeless whole is good--even with all its violence, starvation, nuclear menace, and so forth. But I still maintain that violence, the starvation of children, and nuclear menace are not good. Mitchell is bold and precise in his paraphrasing of questions about good and evil posed by God's voice in the whirlwind: "Do you really want this moral sense of yours projected onto the universe? it asks, in effect. Do you want a god who is only a larger version of a righteous judge, rewarding those who don't realize that virtue is its own reward and throwing the wicked into a physical hell? If that's the kind of justice you're look-ing for, you'll have to create it yourself. Because that is not my justice" (p. xxiii). These words make it clear that Mitchell believes that limited or narrow human concepts of morals and justice are not to be placed on God. An example that comes to mind is the parable of the vineyard workers, in which all receive the same wage regardless of how long they worked (Mt 20:1-16). Human "justice" might overlook the broader plight of those left in the marketplace all day with no work (perhaps because they appeared to be the least capable Reviev for Religious workers), who nevertheless needed to provide for them-selves and their families. In other words, human "jus-tice" often lacks compassion and a wider perspective. Mitchell states that the Beast and the Serpent in the final section of the poem are presented as God's playthings and that they challenge those who do not acknowledge God's destructive side (pp. xxiii-xxiv). This calls to mind the passage: "All you beasts, wild and tame, bless the Lord; praise and exalt him above all forever" . (Dn 3:81 NAB). Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. What are the effects of Job's experience of God in the whirlwind? Does he repent? Does he submit? Mitchell disagrees with (mis-)translations of Job's final speech which have him say he "abhors" himself and "repents" in dust and ashes. He maintains that the idea conveyed is that Job "rejects" everything he said, and is "comforted by" his mortality. (pp. xxv, xxxii). Having received his answer, Job is "awe-stricken in the face of overwhelming beauty and dread" (p. xxvi). Rather than "submission," Mitchell stresses that Job's words rise from "surrender"--"a wholehearted giving-up of one-self" (p. xxvii). Surrendering oneself to God is indeed a strong act of one's free will. In the prose epilogue, Mitchell notes that Job's chil-dren appear to be the same children as in the prologue, as though they have sprung back to life (p. xxix). In Creation praises God by simply being what it is, and some of creation can be quite violent or devastating. 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ ~ob's Difficult Transformation 28_61 my reflection on the epilogue, a similar thought came to me via a line from Viktor Frankh "What you have experienced, no power on earth can take from you.''4 During times of suffering, human beings tend to focus entirely on their pain, loss, and so forth. This is not to deny the very real need for people to grieve their losses and attend to their pain. But at some point, in order to "move on," there needs to be a shift in the focus. I believe that, despite actual loss, whatever good some-one "had" he or she somehow still "has." One's experi-ences of good people and good things remain part of one's being, part of who one "is." Job's fulfillment does not depend on the actual reappearance of his children. He has seen and understood the "bigger picture" of life. One might challenge this view by saying that it then follows that the bad or evil of a person's life also still remains part of who he or she is. I would argue, from the philosophical axiom that bad or evil itself is a "lack," that a person never "had" something which was itself a "lack." Finally, Mitchell notes the prominence of Job's daughters in the epilogue, suggesting a shift from the righteousness and control of the male world to the beauty and peace of the feminine. Interestingly enough, he believes that the feminine, which had been denigrated in the prologue's reference to Job's wife, is now acknowledged and honored in the epilogue (p. xxx). This brings me back to my suggestion that there may be more to the advice given by Job's wife than first meets the eye. Upon reading the prologue one might ask, "Who needs a wife like that?" It seems that the answer may be "Everybody." Why? To challenge us to leave the narrow confines of our comfortable, even if good, perceptions of ourselves, others, life, and God, in Review for Religious order to grow and to be transformed into the fullness of being to which God calls us. The story of Job is a story of transformation--a story of surrender, a story of letting go. Job has to let go of people and possessions very dear to him, he has to let go of his own health, and, perhaps most difficult for a good and innocent person who loves God, he has to let go of his image and understanding of God. Each of these movements entails a considerable amount of suffering. Job's transformation unfolds through his suffering, his interaction with his wife and friends, and his honest acknowledgment of his own convictions and feelings in relation to God. The culmination is his unexpected face-to- face encounter with God. This encounter causes Job to surrender to God and to reject his notions that suffer-ing is punishment for sin or victimization by a wrathful god. The reader senses that Job leaves his encounter with God as a changed person, and full of peace. Yet one still wants to ask, "So what is the reason for innocent suffering?" Job is content, but why aren't we? Could it be that the answer is revealed only to one who, like Job, has truly grappled with suffering and with God? Would it have been enough for Job to discover that human suppositions regarding innocent suffering are incorrect? Would it be enough for anyone? What is the "pull," the fascination, of this "wrong question" when the answer seems to lie instead in a vivid encoun-ter with God that leads to complete surrender? God's speech began with: "Who is this whose igno-rant words smear my design with darkness?" (p. 79). In another context dealing with relationship, Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry writes, "Words are the source of mis-understandings.'' 5 There is more to life and suffering than words can explain. The "more" involves a personal 287 68.3 2009 Maskulak ¯ Job's Difficult Transformation encounter with God in which all other considerations become secondary. God invites us into that personal encounter by way of transformation and surrender. God is. We need not fear. God knows the why of suffering. For God all things, all times, all places, are. In that mys-tery, all of God's creation is very good. Notes I Stephen Mitchell, The Book of Job (New York: Harper Perennial, 1992). 2 Elie Wiesel, "The Perils of Indifference," 12 April 1999, The Official Site of the Presidential Medal of Freedom. ~ Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York: Washington Square Press, 1984): see pp. 121,131. 4 Frankl, p. 104; see also p. 175. s Antoine de Saint-Exup~ry, The Little Prince (New York: Harcourt Brace and Co., 1971), p. 70. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. Give myself the project of reading the Book of Job. 2. Do you find Maskulak's way of understanding Job a help in you own relationship with God? Review for Religious JAMES W. KINN The Central Paradox of John of the Cross ;all of John of the Cross's works, one unique para-raph is critical for our understanding of his entire teaching about the beginning of contemplation. This one paragraph, containing three paradoxes, gives us an insight into his central teaching on contemplation and will act as an outline for this article: Even though this happy night [of contemplation] dark-ens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his mis-eries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes and empties him of all., natural affec-tions, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.I John is teaching here about the passive dark night of the spirit or contemplation. The three paradoxes are: darkness leads to light, lowliness leads to rising up, and emptiness leads to fullness. He wants us to know that James W. Kinn, still an actively retired priest, writes again about John. His address remains 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ Tbe Central Paradox of Jobn of tbe Cross 290 contemplation darkens, humbles, and empties our soul only to enlighten, to exalt, and to fill the soul. Once we grasp this one central teaching, we can understand the heart of John's teaching on the practice of contemplation. For Those at the Threshold of Contemplation John offers teaching for "proficients, at the begin-ning of their entry into . . . contemplation.''2 These "proficients" have been practicing discursive medi-tation, but now often find they are void of sensible images, imaginings, affections, and reasoning. He has just described his famous three signs for discontinuing discursive meditation: (1) one often or regularly can-not make discursive meditation, (2) one is disinclined to concentrate on sensible objects or ideas, (3) one is inclined to remain alone in loving attention on God even though the experience is dark and unsatisfying. Today that group of people would include many who are practicing simple prayer or the prayer of presence or centering prayer or praying with a sacred word or mantra. John gives a general description of what is some-times or often experienced by people who pray in these ways l At the beginning of this state the loving knowledge [of God] is almost unnoticeable. There are two rea-sons for this: first, the incipient loving knowledge is extremely subtle and delicate, and almost impercep-tible; second, a person who is habituated to the exer-cise of meditation, which is wholly sensible, hardly perceives or feels this new insensible, purely spiritual experience.3 Persons like this are at the very threshold of contempla-tion, or occasionally practice it. First, John assures them that this darkness leads to light: "As soon as natural Review for Religious things are driven out of the enamored soul, the divine are naturally and supernaturally infused, since there can be no void in nature.''4 Here John teaches that, as soon as natural thoughts and sensible images no longer occupy us in prayer, God will infuse his supernatural light into us. He assures us that, once a natural void is created, it will be filled with the action of God. This image of filling the void seems particularly forceful in our day. We are familiar with vacuum-packed coffee cans and know that as soon as we puncture the lid the outside atmosphere fills the void with a hiss. In a simi-lar way, once our prayer becomes dark or empty of all sensible images, God will fill the void with his infused grace--though the light may only be "extremely subtle and delicate" for a while. Second, John assures them that God humbles the soul only to exalt it: If a person will eliminate these impediments., void-ing himself of all forms and apprehensible images . ¯ . and [will] live in pure nakedness and poverty of spirit . . . his soul in its simplicity and purity will then be immediately transformed into simple and pure Wisdom . 5 That is, because the soul can no longer pray with the sensible images and insights of discursive meditation, it recognizes its own inability and poverty of spirit. But God will soon instruct it with his own wisdom in con-templation and so raise it up. Third, John assures them that emptiness leads to fullness: When the spiritual person cannot meditate, he should learn to remain in God's presence . . . even though he seems to himself to be idle. For little by litde and very soon the divine calm and peace with a wondrous, 68.3 2009 Kinn ¯ The Central Paradox of Jobn of the Cross sublime knowledge of God . . . will be infused into his soul . Learn to be empty of all things--inte-riorly and exteriorly--and you will behold that I am God.6 This dark and empty prayer is filled with promise, For John, emptiness of all sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required so that God may freely communicate himself to the soul. He promises that God will not fail to do his part and bring the soul to enjoy a new way of experiencing him. Note that all his counsel here deals with those who are at the threshold of con-templation. That is, they have reached the point where discursive medi-tation has become dark and empty. At times they may experience the beginning of contemplation, but it is usually slight and subde. What does all this mean for all of us who are in this stage of prayer? John wants us to know that this dark and empty prayer is filled with promise: ¯ He assures us that we can be content in such dark and unsatisfying prayer, for "there can be no void in nature." He means that the very darkness is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. ¯ And we can be peaceful even though we can no lon-ger pray with the insights and affections we experienced in discursive meditation. Just because we are convinced of our "lowliness and misery" and find "no satisfaction in self," God esteems this lack of self-satisfaction and is ready to instruct us in his wisdom. ¯ And we can be confident even though we are empty Review for Religious and helpless, because such emptiness of sensible images, rational thoughts, and affections is required for God to communicate himself to us. "Learn to be empty of all things., and you will behold that I am God." For Those Beginning to Practice Contemplation In The Dark Night John explains why this dark night of contemplation must first darken, humble, and empty the soul before it can enlighten, exalt, and fill the soul. The affections, sentiments, and apprehensions [of contemplation] are of another sort and are so eminent and so different from [those experienced naturally in discursive meditation] that their . . . possession demands the annihilation and expulsion of the natural affections and apprehensions; for two contraries cannot coexist in one subject. Hence. this dark night of con-templation must necessarily annihilate [the soul] first and undo it in its lowly ways by putting it in dark-ness, dryness, conflict, and emptiness. For the light imparted to the soul . . . transcends all natural light and does not belong naturally to the intellect.7 His argument is straightforward: "two contraries can-not exist in one subject" at the same time. Therefore, "this dark night of contemplation must necessarily. undo [the soul] in its lowly ways by putting it in darkness ¯ . . and emptiness. For the [divine] light transcends all natural light." That is, the normal way for our intellect to operate is by means of sensible objects, but in con-templation God affects the soul directly, without sen-sible images¯ A few chapters later John describes his first paradox: this darkness leads to light: When you see your., faculties incapacitated for any interior exercise, do not be afflicted; think of this as a grace, since God is freeing you from yourself [so that now] God takes you by the hand and guides you in [ 293 68.3 2009 Kinn * The Central Paradox of yobn of the Cross 294 darkness, as though you were blind, along a way and to a place you do not know.s He immediately adds that you will succeed "in reach-ing this place," where the light "transcends all natural light." The second paradox is that God humbles the soul in order to exalt it. John insists that this humility and pov-erty of spirit leads to exaltation by God: The soul must first be set in emptiness and poverty of spirit . Thus empty, it is truly poor . . . and thereby able to live that new and blessed life which is the state of union with God, attained by means of this night.9 That is, humility and "poverty of spirit" will lead to the union with God that is our exaltation. The third paradox is that emptiness leads to fullness. The best quote for this is in The Living Flame:~° When the soul frees itself of all things and attains to emptiness., concerning them, which is equivalent to what it can do of itself, it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicating himself to it, at least secretly and silendy.~ Here John guarantees that, as long as the soul is empty and passive, God will do his part soon and without fail. So, though the soul is passive and empty, it can be con-fident that the emptiness will result in God's presence and light. What does all this mean for us as we begin to prac-tice contemplation? John's answer is found in the cen-tral quote we are focused on: Even though this happy night darkens the spirit, it does so only to impart light. ; and even though it humbles a person and reveals his miseries, it does so only to exalt him; and even though it impoverishes Re-view for Religious and empties him of all., natural affection, it does so only that he may reach out divinely to the enjoyment of all earthly and heavenly things.12 Above, when John was speaking about those on the threshold of contemplation who simply could no lon-ger pray with discursive meditation, he assured them that even then this natural stage of prayer is filled with promise, for such dark and empty prayer is the neces-sary condition for God's supernatural way of acting in our prayer. He wanted them to know, even then, that as soon as they create this natural void God will soon fill that void with his presence. But now John's counsel is for those who are actually beginning to practice contemplation. His counsel clearly parallels his advice regarding that earlier stage of prayer. But here the darkness and emptiness are not just natural effects of ordinary prayer. Rather, for those beginning to practice contemplation, the very nature of contempla-tion is such that it increases the darkness and emptiness in three ways: (1) this dark night "darkens the spirit" so that no sensible objects ,. or thoughts can occupy the --~ mind or distract it; (2) it "humbles the person" with a sense of his own incapacity and poverty of spirit; (3) it "empties him of all natural affections" for material things. That is why the darker the night, the more receptive we are to God's light, and the more we know our poverty, the more open we are to God's power, and the more empty we are, the more we can passively await God's fullness. .i The .darker the night, ithe more receptive we are God's light. 68.t 2009 Kdnn ¯ The Central Paradox of John of the Cross 296 The second part of these three counsels is entirely positive and filled with promise. John assures us that the darkness is only to impart light, the sense of lowliness is only to exalt us, and the emptiness is only to fill us with God's presence. Summing up: , ¯ The purpose of the darkness of contemplation is so that God can take us by the hand and impart a light that "transcends all natural light." ¯ The purpose of the poverty of spirit is so that God can raise us up to a new union with him. ¯ The purpose of the emptiness we feel regarding all we can do by our ordinary prayer is so that God may do his part "by communicating himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Such is the genius of John of the Cross's counsel for us at the beginning of contemplation. This triple para-dox permits us to be content in the darkness, because that is the necessary condition for God's supernatural light; we can be peaceful in our poverty of spirit, for "there can be no void in nature," no vacuum in super-nature; we can be confident in our emptiness for "it is impossible that God fail to do his part by communicat-ing himself to [us], at least secretly and silently." Notes Dark Night, 2.9.1. Ascent, 2.15, chapter tide and paragraph I. Ascent, 2.13.7. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.4. Ascent, 2.15.5. Dark Night, 2.9.2 (emphasis added). Dark Night, 2.16.7. Dark Night, 2.9.4. Review for Religious ~0 Living Flame, 3.30-62. Throughout this section, John of the Cross is instructing spiritual directors how to help those who are beginning to practice contemplation, when "God begins to wean the soul., and place it in the state of contemplation." '~ Living Flame, 3.46 ~2 Dark Night, 2.9.1. "kecharitom~ne" the word he spoke was redolent and to hear his voice was to be cut with scent knelt before my feet, his head was bent his speech and manner fragrant .for love he said he had been sent and this the promise immanent grace and joy are yours, but with lament his words like light caressed my ear it was as if my heart could smell and hear as if each sense were all and each was clear as if I were unclothed and my skin was sheer though in his presence I knew not shame nor fear what strength and sweetness was to me so near but in his eyes like stars there stood a tear far more than joy he said is yours to know and if all generations on your name bestow praise and honor in heaven high and earth below it is because your pierced heart will show the thoughts of many, both swift and slow, for from your flesh His bones shall grow and from your milk His blood will flow Sean Edward Kinsella [-297 68.t 2009 JOHN H. ZUPEZ Connecting through Prayer ~di~all find ourselves in the dumps at times, feeling connected from others. Perhaps this is our usual feeling when we wake up in the morning and have not yet consciously made any "connect" with God or with others. And there are specific incidents that leave us alienated, adrift in spirit: when we are misunder-stood or ignored by others, when we offend others and have no immediate opportunity to reconcile with them, when our selfish behavior alienates us from the Spirit within us. Morning prayer with the church has traditionally served as a connect for Christians. When it is celebrated in common, we experience the Christian communi-ty's support. Or, when said in a meditative manner, it becomes a connect with God, as it did for the early monks who lived in the desert, largely devoid of human 2981 John H. Zupez SJ wrote on petitionary prayer in our May-June 1992 issue. In recent years he has taught in seminaries in Nigeria and Zimbabwe. He was recently appointed pastor of Corpus Christi Church; 1005 N.E. 15th Street; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 73117. Review f~ Religious contacts. But, said alone and quickly, it may not produce the intended effect of connecting us to what is most enduring and nourishing in our faith. Married people can find in their intimate relation-ship a deep connect. St. Paul used this relationship as a model for the connect between Christ and his "bride," the church. However, just as married love grows cold at times, so our relationship with the church does not always give us a sense of intimacy with Christ. Prayer That Connects At times of disconnect we may find prayer difficult, but it depends on how we pray. As our relationship with God matures, prayer becomes less a matter of running through prayers vocally or trying to influence God through petitions. It becomes more a reflection on how near God is to us. The words of most prayers do not mention explicidy our connectedness to God or to one another, but the connect is implicit. I suggest that we benefit by making it more explicit. We can pray in a way that makes conscious our connectedness to other people and to a world which we know in faith to be filled with divine meaning and purpose. Thus prayer becomes an antidote for the loneliness that assails us when we feel disconnected: cold, dry, alienated, "in the dumps." For instance, when saying the Our Father, we can pause to reflect on the richness of the word "our." In faith we know that every person is our brother or sis-ter since we are related through Jesus, our brother. We know, too, that all that God has made, everything around us, is for our use and enjoyment, a loving father's gifts to us personally. Then the next word, "Father," bespeaks the warmth of the Father's love revealed in the father of the Prodigal and also in Jesus himself, the 68.3 2009 Zupez * Conneaingthrough Prayer Good Shepherd, like us in all but sin, bearing lost sheep and all his crosses so that we may feel closer to him in times of difficulty. The rest of the Our Father elaborates on attitudes that follow from our being children of a loving God, attitudes that connect us to God's coming kingdom, to God's will for us, to God's beneficence in satisfying our needs, and to God's immediate presence to us in moments when we need forgiveness. The simple words "Our Father" become rich in connotation as we reflect on who this Father is and on how everything is ours in Jesus Christ, who came to restore all things to God. Similar reflection turns all of our prayer into a con-scious connect with God and with our neighbor. This connect is facilitated by the deeper insight that passes into our prayer from more relaxed reflection, as on days of recollection or during times of spiritual retreat. Morning Offering The more reflective approach to pr

Issue 65.4 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Searching Wisdom Apprediating the Word ¯ Living Chastely QUARTERLY 65.4 2006 '~ Review for-ReligiouS-fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one ~ ¯ ~another, about the holiness we try to live according . _ tO charisms of Catholic religious life. As~Pope Paul vlsaid~ our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission tnust bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff VVebmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Claire Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVO Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.4 2006 contents prisms 342 searching wisdom On Leaving Office Gracefully Kathleen Hughes RSCJ suggests a three-stage process that any leadership team might use or adapt in order to consider their years of service and come to closure on a privileged and grace-filled time in their lives. 354 Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Thomas G. Casey SJ reflects on the importance of imitating Jesus by cultivating intelligence and nourishing wisdom, and suggests ways to go about it. Personal/Group Reflection Questions 365 appreciating the word ~ Andrew Ryder SCJ underlines the valuable Vatican II gift of the lectionary--the three-year cycle of Sunday readings, the two-year cycle of daily readings from the epistles and the Old Testament, and the one-year cycle of daily gospels--and its place in the tradition going back to Old Testament times. Review for Religious 375 Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation Brendan Kneale FSC reflects on the final four doctrines of the Apostles' Creed, developing the consolations that they entail for our deepest human concerns. Prayer Suggestion 382 God's Invitation Armand Nigro SJ has us listen to God's invitation to prayer. 384 living chastely Sexuality and Celibate Chasti.ty: Friends Not Foes Sefin D. Sammon FMS reviews the growth process in our understanding and appreciation of our sexuality and our celibate chastity in their mutual aim at union with God and others. Reflection and Discussion Questions 399 "Bride of Christ": Timely Sign in Signless Times? Annette M. Pelletier II-hVl examines how the signs, symbols, texts, and gestures in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" illuminates what it means to be a "bride of Christ." 414 "I Will Espouse You": The Religious Profession Ring Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR explains the origin, history, and meaning of the,religious profession ring. departments 423 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of Luke 427 Canonical Counsel: The Q.O.T. Principle 433 Book Reviews 445 2006 Indexes 339 prisms 340 Time is always with us. Sometimes we seem to have too much time, and we say that "it drags." Probably, more often, we claim that we have too little time, and we appear to be rushing around, just a little bit late for our next appointment. Although we don't ordinarily give much thought to it, there is another major difference about time. Some would see it as cyclic--what we allude to when we use the aphorism "What goes around comes around." Others would understand time as linear, like the flow of a river in whose same waters we can never step twice. Our Jewish-Catholic tradition has placed us peo-ple of faith solidly within the linear notion of time. We have but one life to live, all of its rela-tionships and its growth and its diminishment viewed within the prism of our own developing relationship with God. At first, it may appear that the church litur-gical year has opted for the cyclic model of time. With the celebration of the feast of Christ the King, we bring Ordinary Time to an end, and we begin again another liturgical year with the season of Advent, followed by Christmas, and eventually again the Lenten season, and so on. But as a time for personal growth, each season of the church year issues the call and challenge for us, not to repeat practices in a stimulus-response Review ~br Religion, s . sort of way, but to enter more responsibly and full-heart-edly into the daily mystery of a life with God. Just as we do not want to celebrate this Christmas with the exact same interior response that we had last Christmas, so, too, we do not want vow renewals, whether of marriage anniversaries or religious profession anniversaries, to be merely a repeat of where we were at that moment of the original ceremony. We have moved on, hopefully in the depth of our love and commitment. Only one thing is certain: we cannot remain exactly the same, since, in time, we are either moving forward--growing--or fall-ing back--diminishing or becoming less. Our use of time, then, needs to be regularly evalu-ated. At certain points within our daily lived experience, like the end of a project, the completion of a group activ-ity, a working together at an assigned task, we need to make an assessment. Every assessment follows basically the questions within the Ignatian daily examen. How has God been present to us within this time? How have we ignored or kept God from our ken? Have we grown in our relationship with God and with others through this time period? These questions are foundational as to our measurement of success or failure, how we have used our time, a precious gift of God to us. In the November time we remember the dead, those who have gone on before us. So, as we begin the new Advent and Christmas seasons, let us more eagerly look forward to meeting "in good time" our God of eternity. Time is God's gift of transport ever carrying us more quickly to our life with God forever--time without end. Our time now always needs its moments of celebration. Through the church year and through our workaday events, we take time to celebrate God's gifting. 341 David L. Fleming sJ 65.4 2006 KATHLEEN HUGHES searching wisdom On Leaving Office Gracefully Several weeks after five of us assumed positions of leadership in the United States Province of the Religious of the Sacred Heart, we each received a brochure for a workshop on "Transitioning Out of Leadership." We laughed a bit nervously, wondering how we got on that mailing list and who might be trying to tell us something! Six years later, however, we were ready for a pro-cess which would help us to leave office grace-fully, but soon we discovered that very little was available.~ While leadership transition has often been the subject of articles and workshops, gen-erally the focus is on identifying and equipping new leaders for the ministry which they have or will soon assume. The Leadership Conference of Women Religious of the United States, for example, annually offers an excellent seminar for new leaders whose goal is competence and skills in spiritual leadership, finance, canon and civil law, human development, and communica- Kathleen Hughes RSCJ was provincial of the Society of the Sacred Heart 1999-2005. Her address is Institute for Ecumenical and Cultural Research; P.O. Box 2000; Collegeville, Minnesota 56321. E-maih khughes@rscj.org Review for Religious tions. Team building is considered. Conflict resolution is explored. There is no shortage of articles, talks, seminars, and itinerant consultants, all of them promoting effective, even prophetic leadership within religious communities. One day, though, all that knowledge, all those skills, all the relationships which have developed, all the dis-cernment and decision~making and menial tasks that keep the machine well oiled stop abruptly. One day a ministry which has been all-consuming ends so suddenly that it could be likened to a trap door opening up and swallow-ing those above it. The former leaders get on planes or at least move across town, and the new leadership team move into their offices, probably freshly painted, with flowers on the desk. At the end of a leadership mandate there is both pres-sure and pride in leaving things in good order. Cleaning, sorting, and purging files takes time and the sound of shredding can be heard outside every office. The more important narrative and historic records are classified, labeled, and sent to the archives. Extraneous materials are eliminated from computers, especially all those e-mails that it once seemed so urgent to save. Leadership teams old and new meet together to discuss imminent concerns, financial realities, and personnel matters. Long-range planning, anniversaries pending, and events already on the calendar are noted. Members who are in transition in ministry, community, or for personal reasons are given special consideration. A final annual report is prepared, printed, and mailed. There is also the packing up and moving of each one's goods and paraphernalia, all the while wondering how so much accumulated. There is the physical move to a new community, quite possibly in a new city, the planning of a vacation or sabbatical, the reflection about a next min-istry, and the timing of it all. Finally there are the good- 6~.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully byes with their attendant lunches and dinners and the rituals of thanks which are particular to each leadership team. There is a lot to attend to in the final days. And because there is so much pressure at the end of a term to "leave the place in good shape," it is possible that the persons involved may not be in good shape at all or may walk away from office without ever actually leaving it. How do we prepare our own hearts for the handing over? Well before our term was up, we anticipated the need for a good process which would help us reflect on our years of service, imagine the future, and care for one another through the transition. This article will explore the three-stage process which we developed, a series of day-long conversations, spaced over many months, which helped us to hand over our work and come to closure on an important and grace-filled time in our lives. The first two "conversations" happened in the months before we left office; the final "conversation" happened six months later. 3441 Looking Back: Blessings and Bruises Much happens in the life of a community over a term or two in office. Sometimes experiences, events, and encounters are a source of great joy; at other times moments have been hurtful to those involved, however unintentional the pain. When leaving office it is impor-tant to look back at the blessings and the bruises in order to celebrate, to grieve, to repent, to forgive, and to give thanks--in about equal measure. It is often said that administrators spend ninety-five percent of their time on five percent of the people. Perhaps in religious life the percentages are a bit dif-ferent, but there is no doubt that much time and atten-tion are given over to people or situations of crisis. In the press of work in the day-to-day, it is possible to lose sight of the larger picture, the courageous growth, the Reviev~ for Religious fidelity to prayer, the simple generosity, the willingness to stay in dialogue during times of conflict, the healing that happens, the beauty and depth which conversations reveal, the opportunities to inspire and bless, the witness of long and faithful lives spent in service, the moments of insight, the risks taken and welcomed, all the tiny acts of kindness--all the blessings great and small that those in leadership experience happening in the membership and in themselves. The opportunity to serve in leadership is itself a great privilege and a blessing. The openness of the membership in speaking of their inner journey, their joys and their struggles, is deeply edifying. The amazing zeal for minis-try and witness for justice of some, the courageous battle with substance abuse of oth-ers, the struggle to under-stand what faith-filled living means in the midst of cul-tural and religious upheaval, the suffering borne with sweetness and peace, the courage in the midst of great personal darkness--each member, each story, each grace witnessed by those in leadership has been a blessing which changes them forever. In gathering the blessings of their years of leadership, the team rightly delight in their own a~complishments too: prayer fostered and deepened, initiatives begun, participation encouraged, staff strengthened, systems put in place, strides taken to assure financial solvency, and, above all, mission clarified, supported, and sustained. In addition, the unique contribution of each one on the leadership team to the work of the whole must be cel-ebrated. Members of a team are blessings to each other, especially in the darker times. Much happens in the life of a community over a term or two in office. 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully In looking back, there is also much to repent and to grieve about. Misunderstandings happen. We hurt each other by too hasty responses, by clumsy decisions unsea-soned by experience, by expectations which are too great or too small, by seeming indifference to suffering. We hurt each other by passing over gifts, by the triangula-tion of third-party conversations, by wielding authority in a sometimes autocratic manner. We hurt each other often more because of ignorance or lack of competence than negligence or malice--which does not make the pain any less. There is much to grieve about and to regret as lead-ers leave office, and much to learn in the letting go. A leadership team can help each other not to exaggerate bruises, to remind someone who feels deep regret that she did her best with the knowledge she had and, besides, that she can tease out of the situation some wisdom to use in the future. The team can remind one another that forgiveness and reconciliation do not happen because we will them but because time and grace make them pos-sible, perhaps long after the arbitrary date for a change of administration. Lines from Psalm 103 perfecdy capture the deepest real-ity: that the ministry of leadership is ultimately God's work. It is God who has blessed us and our community in so many ways; it is God who forgives and heals and makes whole when we have failed to be blessings for one another. My soul, bless the Lord, bless God's holy name! My soul, bless the Lord, hold dear all God's gifts! Bless God who forgives your sin and heals every illness, who snatches you from death and enfolds you with tender care, Review for Religqous who fills your life with richness and gives you an eagle's strength. Bless the Lord, ~ny soul.2 Looking Forward: Living Deliberately A second day-long conversation addresses the future with this question: How will I live my life differently because of these years of service? Leadership experi-ence cannot help but change those who serve. They have attended the school of life and love. They have been exposed to the best and the worst in human nature. In the process, convictions are formed about what constitutes holy healthy living. Before taking leave of service and of one's compan- - -- ions in leadership, talking together about newly formed convictions commits the speakers to embracing them as a way of life upon rejoining the general membership. Here are a few examples. Leaders may have developed a pattern of consistent common prayer which has sup-ported and sustained the team, built trust among them, helped them know and love each other in deep relation-ships, and, above all, convinced them that God is cen-tral to everything they do and every decision they take. Regular common prayer, in a word, has supported and sustained them in ministry. They know it is possible; they know it is necessary; they intend, in the communities they join, to negotiate ways of praying together in some con-sistent pattern. Leaders have had the privilege of seeing growth among the members. They have witnessed genuine con-version and new life, even among those who seemed to Leadership experience ;Cannot help but change those, who serve. 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully be mired in long-established patterns which had made many people give up on them. From the perspective of leadership, it is clear that "with God all things are pos-sible," and perhaps also with the love of others who bring people to new life. Giving people a chance to change and the space to let it happen in God's time becomes, then, a deliberate choice for the future. Another area of resolution may be in the way one decides, or not, to continue to take risks. Assuming lead-ership itself is a huge risk. Leadership candidates prob-ably asked themselves many questions before taking the leap of faith to congregational service: Do I have the gifts, the vision, the stamina, the public presence, even a thick enough skin? And what an amazing hundredfold is the return to those who accept service. Leaders may then decide to choose risk as a way of life, not settling down, not avoiding a new ministry or a move because it is too scary, not getting into set patterns which make them "stuck" where they are and less open to new possibili-ties, not anxiously calculating the competencies or energy needed for a new venture. "Risk as a way of life" implies that those who have completed leadership became secure in the "grace of office," that is, the promise of God's presence always, no matter the risk. No exceptions. Living deliberately in light of one's service may also include a commitment to participate actively in the life of the membership, responding to the initiatives of the new team, serving on committees and task forces, tuning in to teleconferences, sending a word of gratitude for work well done or a question or comment when solicited. A conversation about deliberate choices for the future is a way to capture the best insights of each team mem-ber after some years of sorting the wheat and the chaff of religious life. Here is a typical spill of intentions from such a conversation: Review for Religious. I will be grateful that others are willing to serve; I will try to participate attentively; I will be aware that there is always more to the story and at least as many sides as people involved; I will try to be simple and pare down; I will do my best, wherever I am, to make community happen; I will cherish relationships; I will remember that people appre-ciate a personal note of gratitude, congratulations, or condolence; I will try to be a healer; I may be "sadder and wiser," but I will draw on that wis-dom; I will be thoughtful and generous in using money; I will use my newly honed gifts and skills well; I will care for my health more intentionally; I will try to respect and validate the experience and insights of each one; I will be more attentive to the international dimension of the community; I will savor and delight in doing one thing at a time; I will do one "lovely thing" each day just for fun; I will wake up every day feeling responsible for a much smaller universe--my own! Such a conversation is wide and deep, and humorous too, and it moves the transition to a new phase. While a "bless-ings and bruises" conversation is a way of looking back and letting go, this second conversation about "living deliber-ately" moves a group beyond the mandate of leadership to imagining reintegration among the membership. Looking Within: Reflecting on the Present After a period of time out of office, a third conversa-tion makes the transition complete. On leaving community service the members of the leadership team choose their own ways of resting, recuperating~ and reorienting them-selves to "ordinary time." Even those individuals who con-tinue in leadership positions have a major transition and a lot of challenges, for a new configuration of members on i349 65.4 2006 Hughes ¯ On Leaving Office Gracefully the leadership team supposes very different personalities, ways of making decisions, and styles of collaboration. Weeks immediately after passing leadership on can be vulnerable times. There may be a sense of loss at many different levels--relationships, security, even status. There may be endless time on Weeks immediately after passing leadership on, can be vulnerable times; one's hands and an inability to stop the engines which have been in overdrive for so long. There may be a loss of nerve, a questioning of one's gifts and compe-tencies and whether there is a ministry and/or a community where there is a fit. There may be relationships which need to be adjusted for greater mutuality. There are decisions about whether and how much to participate in the life of the community, particularly in order to give new leaders the freedom to blaze their own trail. On the other hand, one may feel passed over when not asked for a piece of wisdom that experience presumably taught. There may be the temptation to make comparisons, to judge new initiatives in the community before they have a chance to flourish, to think but never say aloud "That won't work. We tried that!" There may be the awkwardness of knowing too much along with a need to mourn no longer being part of the easy rapport of a team bound to confidentiality. Team members who have worked closely and intensely for a long time may delight in and greatly profit from an opportunity, perhaps six months after leaving office, to reunite for a day or a weekend. Each one, in turn, can reflect about the experience of the last few months and the challenges of transition, some of which only other for-mer team members can appreciate. Questions such as the l~eview for Religious following can prompt reflections which will be personal for each one and yet have some common elements: What has this transition been like? What has been the best part of moving out of leader-ship or, in the case of those who have continued to serve, what has been the best part of working with a brand new team? What has been challenging, for example, in ministry, community, prayer, recalibrating relationships, a different pace, not traveling, not knowing what is going on or, for someone who has joined the new team, knowing more than the rest of the team? What do I anticipate in the months ahead that may be important to name? Is there wisdom to share or to seek from the group? Where is God in all of this? Who is God in all of this? As each one speaks, others respond, question, affirm, and challenge, but mostly they listen with the ears of the heart and with the empathy borne of the deep bonds which close collaboration has forged. In the course of this conversation, the team is transformed into a group of friends whose support and affection will remain strong despite time and distance. The Importance of Ritual. There is a wonderful piece of wisdom in Herb Gardner's play A Thousand Clowns. One of the characters, Murray, says "You've got to know what day it is. You've got to own your days and name them, or else the years go right by, and none of them belongs to you.-3 Good ritual is what helps us "own our days and name them." Well-planned ritual brings to public expression the experience of the community and its members. All of the day-long conversations described above, for example, were framed 65.4 2006 Hughes * On Leaving Office Gracefully by ritual prayer, music, silence, breaking of bread, and blessing. How much more important it is to mark the transi-tion of leadership in the life of the whole community by a ritual adequate to the weight of the moment. Good preaching explores the Scriptures which have been cho-sen to illuminate the experience and the hopes of those gathered. The service of the outgoing leadership team is acknowledged with gratitude, and the future of each member is entrusted to God in prayer. The incoming leaders are blessed and publicly given the authority under the constitutions of the order for the exercise of their ministry. And the whole assembly commits itself to active participation in the governance of the community by say-ing its "Amen." Through strong ritual the leadership transition is accomplished. Transition is not just a private moment for the two teams involved, but an opportunity for all to deepen the bonds of their membership, to recom-mit themselves to their deepest call: The word "Amen" makes demands. When we express it at a time of leader-ship transition, we are making a series of promises: "Yes," we say, "so be it." "Yes, with God's help I will support and sustain this new leadership team with love and prayer." "And, yes, I accept my own responsibility, which I can-not surrender to others and which no one can take from me, of living the charism and mission of this community fully and actively." Thus is the community itself renewed in a grace-full transition. Notes ~ Two notable exceptions in the United States are "Transitioning from Leadership," a program offered by Lynn M. Levo CSJ through the Saint Luke Institute, Silver Spring, Maryland, and "Life after Elected Leadership: The Journey Continues," a workshop facilitated by Review for Religious Bette Moslander CSJ and Marcia Allen CSJ at Manna House of Prayer, Concordia, Kansas. 2 Psalm 103:1-5. The English translation is from the Liturgical Psalter; ©1994, International Commission on English in the Liturgy (Chicago: Liturgy Training Publications, 1995). 3 Herb Gardner, "A Thousand Clowns," in The Collected Plays (New York: Applause, 2000). 4 Geographical distance need not be an obstacle. It is possible to have a teleconference on the day of the ceremony, uniting the "Amen" of far-flung members to the prayer of those physically present. Autumn Poppies Brilliant Resilient At end of summer California poppies On spindly stems Shine from shelter Of overhanging rock. Each morning they unfold. What ore produced such gold? Ore from the distant sun? Did that more distant One - The ever-near, Forge it here In the heart of the planet? Through the earth's opaqueness Malting Beauty visible Poppies like bright eyes Give us sight For the Invisible Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ 6~.4 2006 THOMAS G. CASEY Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Tis is not an era for dumb disciples or witless .1. Christians. Hmnan beings are crying out for intel-ligence and wisdom. Certainly our world needs Christians who reach out in love to the poor, sharing material pos-sessions in lives of love. But it also needs Christians who lovingly share their intellectual gifts, their treasures of wisdom. Western culture suffers intellectual malnu-trition. It needs to supplement its diet with intelligent Christianity. With our intelligence we seek to know the truth about things. Wisdom takes intelligence a step further, for wis-dom is not book knowledge, but practical knowledge. Wisdom integrates knowledge into decision making and behavior. In order to attain wisdom, our lives need to focus on the good. Intelligence and Wisdom, Readiness and Ripeness In Hamlet and King Lear, William Shakespeare puts the words "readiness" and "ripeness" into the mouths of Thomas G. Casey SJ, from Ireland, is professor of philosophy at the Pontifical Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta, 4; 00187 Roma, Italy. Revie~ for Religious characters faced with death. Hamlet says "The readiness is all" (Act V, Sc. II). In Lea,; Edgar says, "Ripeness is all" (Act V, Sc. II). Readiness tends to be something active, something we produce through our own efforts. Ripeness is something organic, something that occurs according to its own rhythm, independently of our efforts. Unlike Shakespeare, I prefer to apply these phrases to life rather than death. I see readiness as our contribution to dis-cipleship through our intellects. Ripeness (maturation) is that wonderful moment when the fruit (peach or plum) is at its best, giving what it has received, even at the risk of falling. In the First Letter of Peter, a couple of verses deal explicitly with the spiritual ripeness and intellectual readiness of disciples. These verses are addressed to all Christians, including those facing opposition and ridicule. Peter warns that persecution is a real possibility: "Do not fear their intimidation, and do not be troubled, but sane-tify Christ as Lord in your hearts, always ready to give an answer to anyone who asks you the reason or your hope, yet with gentleness and reverence" (1 P 3:14-15). I see ripeness as related to spirituality and readiness as related to study. In order not to be intimidated by any sort of persecution, we need to "sanctify Christ," rever-ing him and acknowledging him as Lord of our lives. The spiritual is not simply first chronologically, but also first in importance. We must give God priority in our hearts. First comes communion with God and then communication with others. Indeed if we put God first, our lives will inevitably provoke questions from others. They will notice something different about us, and they will inquire about it. Peter seems to imply study. He says we must be ready to give an answer: In order to give an answer, we need to know the answer first. There is no way around the hard work of wrestling with texts and grappling with ideas. It is an answer about the hope in 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship our hearts, our trust that things will work out despite the difficulties, our conviction that there is more to life than our limited temporal existence--although we do not yet see what we hope for, we know it is possible and attain-able. The source of Christian hope is the goodness and love of God, Because Of God's faithful love, we know that the future is full of promise. Peter says we need to explain our faith "to anyone who asks." Different kinds of people will have different kinds of questions. Obviously those who are sympathetic to the hope in our hearts will be easier to answer. But it takes much more careful preparation to know what to say to skeptics and those downright hostile to our worldview. Peter does tell us how to answer: with gentleness and rever-ence. We are to present the truth in love. We do this, not to win arguments, but to win people. The strength of our convictions is to be communicated with tact and respect. Readiness and ripeness are vital, but ripeness has priority. Ripeness refers to who we are, to the gift of God that comes through communion with him, to grace. Communion with God gives unity to our intellectual powers. It is not the strength of our arguments that will win people over, but the quality of our lives, of our rela-tionship with Jesus. We need exemplars. We all benefit from the exam-ple of individuals who put their intelligence at the ser-vice of humanity, whose actions and deeds match their intellectual ideals, who sacrifice themselves for the ideas that claim their allegiance. Of course, we cannot all be geniuses. It is, however, usually not desirable to imitate a person of genius either. Without a spirituality, genius easily loses its way. Readiness without ripeness is not enough. Even a genius of goodwill faces particular challenges and hurdles. Persons of extraordinary intelligence are so Review for Religious used to excelling without effort that they easily forget that this does not apply in daily life. Despite outstand-ing grades they may fail in the task of living. Another problem that can plague persons of extraordinary intel-ligence is their very versatility. They may end up dissipat-ing their energies through taking on too many projects. They do not become outstanding intellectuals simply by having a huge number of ideas. They need to direct the energy of their lives. A hyperdeveloped mind allied to an underdeveloped spirit and heart leads to disequilibrium and worse. The greatest exemplar of a sterling mind integrated in a fully human life of spiritual depth is none other than Jesus. Christians associate Jesus with perfect holi-ness. Many regard him as the paragon of wisdom, but few automatically associ-ate him with intellec-tual brilliance. This failure to see Jesus as a genius is under-standable inasmuch as he did not become a world-renowned academic or found a university or write a seminal book. He apparently never committed his thoughts to paper, and on the only known occasion he did write (Jn 8:6), it was in sand. The best way to dispel any doubts about Jesus' extraor-dinary mind is to read the Gospels attentively. The proof of Jesus' intelligence is especially to be found in his capac-ity to offer humanity something of universal value and his ability to resolve the fundamental problems of human existence.~ But it is also manifest in many other ways. °.~t is not the strength of our arguments that will win people over, but the quality of our lives, of our relationship with Jesus. 65.4 2006 Casey * Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship Jesus did not !et his exceptional intellectual gifts lie idle, The Greatest Exemplar Since he Was not only fully human but also fully divine, Jesus had an amazing intellect to start with. Second, what-ever form his education took it enhanced his intellectual giftedness and impressed his contemporaries. Luke's brief words about the twelve-,,ear-old Jesus in the temple at Jerusalem (Lk 2:42-50) show him listening to the doctors and questioning them. The child intrigues and fascinates these learned men. In fact, he surpasses them. And it is not simply his intellect, formidable though it is, that holds them in thrall. It is the paradox of such prophetic wisdom on the lips of a mere child. Undoubtedly Jesus' mind found nourishment in his communion with the Father. Perhaps Mary spoke to the child Jesus of her own faith and recited Scripture to him. In other words, he may have hid a human teacher as well as a divine teacher. Jesus did not let his exceptional intellectual gifts lie idle. He cultivated them. According to Luke, he con-tinued to grow in wisdom (Lk 2:52). In other words, he grew in his ability to judge things rightly and to react appropriately. Thus he did not use his intellectual powers to accumulate useless facts or trivia. He saw the world truthfully and acted in accord with what he saw. Jesus' intensive prayer and fasting in the desert and the energy and zeal of his public ministry showed that his intellect was at the service of a noble cause. In order for genius to be productive, it must be impelled forward by guiding passion, by a strong motivating force, by the transfor-mative power of desire. Jesus was pressed forward by a consuming love. It was the drive to announce the Good Review for Religious News, to preach the reign of God, to free people from the slavery of sin. We think with our whole being and not just with our intellects. Without physical health and a reasonable level of emotional and moral equanimity, our ability to con-centrate properly, understand fully, and judge rightly is impeded. Since Jesus was without sin, his mind did not lose serenity. He never did wrong and never gave way to destructive emotional behavior. Thus his whole being supported the vision of his intellect. Jesus' way of thinking, as illustrated in the Gospels, displays a brilliant mind at work. Aristotle asserts in his Poetics and even more forcefully in his Rhetoric that the use of metaphors is a mark of great intelligence, some-thing that cannot be taught: "The most important thing is to be good at metaphor. This is the one thing that can-not be learned from someone else, and is a sign of natural talent; for the successful use of metaphors is a matter of perceiving similarities.''2 There is a tendency to think of metaphors as some-thing purely linguistic--a verbal ornamentation that is pretty, but apart from that, pretty ineffective. But a met-aphor such as "You are the salt of the earth" (Mr 5:13) is much more than a figure of speech. It challenges our taken-for-granted relationship with things, it uproots and dislocates us from our customary, understanding of ourselves. More than that, a metaphor enlarges and deepens our knowledge. We understand ourselves and our relatedness in a new way: "I am the vine and you are the branches" (Jn 15:5). Jesus' metaphors--salt, light, bread, sheep, and so on--take us beyond ourselves, toward transcendence. Even though they are made of sensible and tangible realities, they simultaneously lift us up into the realm of the spirit: "I am the bread of life" (In 6:35). Making connections .among disparate 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship 360[ realities, Jesus' metaphors put a fragmented world back together. In John's chapter 15, Jesus speaks of his Father's "house" and of its "many rooms." With the familiarity of these words, Jesus lifts the veil on the afterlife, bring-ing domesticity into the unlimited horizons of the infi-nite. While not denying the difference between earthly life and paradise, Jesus shows that there must be echoes and resemblances. Metaphors galvanize the imagination, inviting us to think differently, and even to act in ways that once seemed impossible. They are the best way, and possibly the sole way, of talking about what is new. They give the imagination liberating and productive space. But even when he is not using metaphors, Jesus helps people in their thinking and action. In the Beatitudes, Jesus proclaims unexpected joys, the kind to be found in the simplicity, tears, gentleness, mercy, purity, peace, and suffering of saints. He helps his hearers think deep thoughts by starting from what they know, from what is familiar to them. In Matthew's chapter 7 he talks of how earthly fathers would not dream of giving a stone to their sons asking for bread, or offering a snake when they ask for fish. After emphasizing this point, Jesus points out that God, being perfect, will be infinitely more likely to answer our requests than human fathers are. A wise person knows how and when to pose ques-tions. Jesus' questions often invite his hearers to recog-nize and follow desires they may not have realized they had. The first question Jesus asks in the Gospel of John is: "What do you desire?" (Jn 1:38). And a related ques-tion appears four Limes in the synoptic Gospels: "What do you want me to do for you?" (Mt 20:32, Mk 10:36 and 10:51, Lk 18:41). Jesus also has a strong logical mind. In Luke 13:10- 16, a synagogue ruler becomes indignant when Jesus heals Review for Religious a woman on the Sabbath. Although she has been crippled by a spirit for eighteen years, the synagogue leader is adamant that this healing should have been done on a working day. Jesus counters by pointing out that nobody has any scruples about untying their ox or donkey on the Sabbath and bringing it out to give it water. The beast has not been thirsty for eighteen years, and the woman, "a daughter of Abraham," has felt a greater thirst over the course of many Sabbaths. Jesus sees even a bigger picture than this. The central theme of Jesus' preaching, the kingdom of God (today one could perhaps say "the dream of God"), is already mysteri-ously present in all the small-scale events and happenings of our daily lives. Jesus intuitively grasps a grand meaning in the tiny mustard seed becoming a large shrub. The goal of human intelligence is to know the real, and to know God, the supreme truth. Intelligence tends toward the truth. The intelligence of Jesus is perfectly pitched to this goal, for he constantly proclaims the kingdom of God. His mind is con-stantly directed toward the revelation or manifes-tation of God. Although God's kingdom is already ~ breaking into the present,Jesus sees that its full realiza-tion is in the future. When the seventy disciples return from preaching, intoxicated with the success of their ven-ture, Jesus says that what should really give them cause to rejoice is the reality that their names are written in heaven (Lk 10:20). Jesus adapts his words to the various people he is dealing with. It is not that he changes the content of his The goal of human intelligence is to know the real, and to know God, ;the supreme truth. 3,61 65.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship 362' message, but that he pays attention to his interlocutors, and seeks to speak in a way that makes sense to them. He uses many agrarian images and metaphors because he spends so much time talking to people who live and work on the land. But when he is questioned by the Roman procurator Pilate before his crucifixion, Jesus speaks of authority and truth, issues that concern Pilate. Jesus is wise enough to know the limits of intelli-gence. When confronted by the powerful but demonic intelligence of Satan toward the end of his forty-day fast in the desert, Jesus knows that only God's word is strong enough to defeat the Adversary's clever arguments. And so the Word of God quotes from God's word, the Holy Scriptures, and defeats Satan. Ripening To become wise and intelligent disciples, we need to imitate Jesus--not external imitation, but conforming our minds and hearts to Jesus. From this interior mirroring, our external words and deeds will naturally reflect Jesus. A few years ago, the WWJD bracelet--"What would Jesus do?"--became a fad. Such a bracelet certainly points people in a helpful direction. But of ourselves we are not always capable of knowing what Jesus would do. The responses are not written on our wrists. The answers are to be found by meditating and pondering on what Jesus did in fact do. We have looked at some examples of his wisdom and intelligence in action. We need to meditate on such examples, pray over them. The full ripeness of Jesus' wisdom needs to be tasted and appreciated with our spiritual senses. There is a clue to how to do this in the Greek verb menein, frequent in John's Gospel and having a range of meanings: to stay, remain, dwell, abide, last, endure, live. This word applies in a special way to John, because Review for Religious John has great staying power: he stays by Jesus' side, the only one of the twelve present at the cross. It is no acci-dent that John is right next to Jesus at the Last Supper, because John is humanly and spiritually especially close to Jesus. John remains, John abides. To understand this word "remain" better, it helps to turn to the first chapter of John's Gospel. When Andrew and an unnamed disciple start to follow Jesus, he turns and asks them, "What do you want?" These are the first recorded words of Jesus in John's Gospel, in the form of a question, a question that is interested and inviting, pro-found and personal. The two disciples answer Jesus with another question. They ask, "Where do you dwell?" This is not just a geographical question but a deeper, more spiritual one. The disciples have just left John the Baptist. They want something lasting, something that endures, a center that can hold. Different forms of the verb menein appear in chapter 15 of John. Jesus is unraveling implications of the vine and the branches. Jesus points out that trying to improve ourselves and be morally perfect is not what is essential. What is essential is to be in a living relationship with God, to dwell with him, to stay with him, to love him. We do not need to worry about bearing fruit: he will take care of our fruitfulness. We surrender ourselves to him as Lord of our lives, and we stay with him in community with others. We move beyond intelligence to wisdom, beyond rules to love. Communion with Jesus adds ripeness to our readiness and gives our lives unsuspected fruit. Notes ~ This view of intelligence is broadly in line with the stance of the distinguished educational thinker Howard Gardner, well known for his theory of multiple intelligences. According to Gardner, intelligence has to involve some form of productivity, and thus high IQ is itself not suf-ficient. Gardner defines intelligence thus: "Intelligence is a biopsycho- 363 6~.4 2006 Casey ¯ Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship logical potential to process information that can be activated in a cultural setting to solve problems or create products that are of value in a culture." Howard Gardner, Intelligence Refrained: Multiple Intelligences for the 21st Century (New York: Basic Books, 1999), p. 34. 2 Aristotle, Poetics, translated with an introduction and notes by Malcolm Heath (London: Penguin Books, 1996), p. 37. Personal/Group Reflection Questions 1. "We think with our whole being and not just with our intellects." (p. 359) From my experience, can I give some examples of this kind of thinking? 2. a) What is the evidence I seek when I describe a person as wise? b) If I were to describe Jesus as a wise person, what examples of his wisdom would I cite from the Gospels? 364 Review for Religious ANDREW RYDER The Bible and the Lectionary During my time as a parish priest in Scotland, I became friendly with the local Protestant min-ister. Our two churches were built opposite each other. One day I showed him the Catholic lec-tionary we used at Mass. He was most impressed, and even thought of using it himself. Instead of going for six months giving his congrega-tion a weekly commentary on the Letter to the Romans, he could use the Catholic lectionary's systematic arrangement of short texts from both the Old and New Testaments, which he consid-ered well tailored to the needs and aptitude of Christians today. My colleague's reaction to our lectionary brought home to me yet again that it is one of the most valuable and enduring liturgical changes introduced by the Second Vatican Council. The Sunday and weekday readings from the lection- Andrew Ryder scJ recently wrote on the Holy Spirit's leading in four holy lives. His address remains St Joseph's Centre; Tilston Road, Malpas; Cheshire SY14 7DD; England. appreciating the word 65°4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary 366 ary have put the word of God within the earshot of many Catholics who might never open a Bible, let alone buy one. The three-year cycle of Sunday readings, the two-year cycle of daily readings from the epistles and Old Testament, and the one-year cycle of daily gospels provide a simple and comprehensive introduction to the Scriptures. The Vatican Council did not, of course, invent the lectionary. That misconception could prevent us from seeing the full significance of the lectionary in the life of the parish. The lectionary is not a latter-day insertion of certain biblical texts into our sacramental celebrations. Long before there was any Bible in the modern sense of the word, the lectionary was the ordinary means by which the faithful came in contact with God's word. The early Christians did not have Bibles. Their knowledge came from hearing the sacred text read out during their community gatherings. By such listening, the first gen-erations of the church were being faithful to their Jewish roots. Regular proclamation of the Scriptures had begun long before the Christian era. The origin of our present lectionary goes back to Old Testament times. The Synagogue Liturgy Old Testament books attributed to authors such as Moses (the first five books of the Bible--the Pentateuch), Amos, and Isaiah were, in fact, produced posthumously and often at a much later date. After a number of revi-sions, the final text was put together by editors (also called redactors), who were not producing books for dis-tribution among the people but were preparing material for community use.* While many of the individual books have a much older origin, the present canonical form of the Old Testament was the result of editing that lasted from the fifth to the second century B.C. The material as a whole Review for Religious was "the product of a temple-based community living in and around Jerusalem.''2 The definitive written form comprised of legal material (the Torah), the works of the prophets (including the books of Joshua and Samuel), and the "writings" (Psalms and the wisdom literature).3 The three groups of - books make up the Holy Scriptures of the Hebrew Bible. These Biblia (books) were revered as the word of God and were studied and read aloud in wor-ship. Independently .i of the temple, wor-ship through the word gradually took pride of place in the - ~ synagogue. Here people met on certain days for public services, without having a sacrificial liturgy.4 The precise origin of the synagogues is not clear. The general theory is that such meeting places came into being during the Babylonian Exile, as a substitute for the temple services. They were buildings constructed, not for sacrifice, but for prayer and the reading of the word of God. A fixed form of prayer was one of the inno-vations of the synagogue, and the buildings came to be called "houses of prayer." Synagogues also served as local community centers for the scattered Jewish people of the Diaspora and were pivotal in Jewish life. Though used also for political and social purposes, their primary pur-pose was spiritual and educational.5 Reading and study of the Scriptures took place on the Sabbath and feast days. There is evidence of two inde- By the time of Jesus, the weekly synagogue liturgy, featuring a communal reading :and study of the holy texts, had become the universal Jewish: practice. 367 65.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary 68] pendent cycles of readings, an annual and a triennial. The annual cycle is associated with the Jewish community in Babylon. A three-year cycle, with shorter readings, seems to have been the practice in Palestine. By the time of Jesus, the weekly synagogue liturgy, featuring a commu-nal reading and study of the holy texts, had become the universal Jewish practice. This service was quite distinct from temple worship and also from anything that existed in contemporary pagan religions. "It was a unique liturgi: cal feature in the ancient world; no such form of worship was known in paganism.''6 In the synagogue service the reading of the Torah was followed by a translation of the Hebrew text into the vernacular (a targum) and further instruction (the sermon). Philo of Alexandria, the lst-century commen-tator on Jewish religious practice, gives a description of communal Sabbath observance in his native city, focus-ing on the exposition of the Torah: "It was customary on every day when opportunity offered, and preeminently on the seventh day, as I have explained above, to pursue the study of wisdom with the ruler expounding and instruct-ing the people what they should say and do, while they received edification and betterment in moral principles and conduct.''7 Philo goes on to say that such instruction could last the whole day. As well as the temple and the synagogue liturgies, family celebrations such as the Passover were also cru-cial for the Jewish religion. Recitation of the Shema (Dt 6:4) and the singing of psalms became an integral part of these festive gatherings, as we see in the Last Supper meal of Jesus with his apostles. Yet, though family mem-bers memorized parts at least of the psalms for such celebrations, the regular contact of the practicing Jew with the word of God was through attendance at Sabbath worship in the synagogue. Review for Religious Jesus chose to begin his public ministry in the syna-gogue of Nazareth (Lk 4:16-30). By his time the scrolls containing readings from the Law and the Prophets were a treasured part of liturgical equipment. Jesus was brought up listening to the word of God when he went for wor-ship with his family,s Hearing the cycle of readings pro-claimed on the Sabbath was how he became acquainted with "the Scriptures" (Lk 24:27). The New Testament At the very beginning, like the rest of the Jews, the followers of Jesus listened to the word of God in the synagogue, as well as joining in the recitation of the Psalms during temple worship (Ac 2:46). But, towards the end of the 1st century, having been expelled from the Jewish synagogues, the Christian communities held their own celebrations in halls or large family residences (1 Co 11:17-22). Remains of these early "house churches" still exist in Rome. A little before 50 A.D., Paul sent the converts he had been instructing in Thessalonika a short letter with some further explanations of his teaching. The newly founded church faithfully preserved it for public use. Paul con-tinued to write similar epistles to encourage and educate other groups of converts. These letters circulated among the fledgling communities and were read out when they assembled.9 About fifteen years later, Mark had the idea of put-ting the stories about Jesus into a continuous narrative, giving Christians their first Gospel. So, as well as "the Scriptures," there could now be readings from Paul and Mark at Christian gatherings. Twenty years on, Matthew's Gospel appeared, probably with liturgical use directly in mind,'° linking the life and teaching of Jesus more closely to his Old Testament roots. At about the same time, 369 6.~.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary Luke set himself the task of writing a full account of the Christian message and added a second volume, the Acts of the Apostles, to bring the Christian story up to date. Though the work of the final redactors is not so clearly marked, editing can also be detected in the com-pilation of the Gospels and the other readings that even-tually became known as the New Testament. The fourth Gospel gives us the best example of revision (the two end-ings 20:30 and 21:25). John also shows how the Gospel narrative could be linked to the liturgy: "The emphasis on feasts as the occasion and indeed subject matter of Jesus' discourses is underlined by the evangelist in chap-ters 5-10.''1~ The Catholic Lectionary As Christians of the 21st century, we do not study the word of God in a vacuum, but as members of a com-munity; and, while as Catholics we do not claim any particular method of biblical interpretation as our own, we do see the Scriptures firmly placed within the living tradition of the church. In particular, our reading of the Bible is closely linked to the celebration of the liturgy. The Pontifical Biblical Commission makes the point clearly: "From the earliest days of the church, the read-ing of Scripture has been an integral part of the Christian liturgy, an inheritance to some extent from the liturgy of the Synagogue . In principle, the liturgy, and espe-cially the sacramental liturgy, the high point of which is the Eucharistic celebration, brings about the most perfect actualization of the biblical texts, for the liturgy places the proclamation in the midst of the community of believers, gathered around Christ so as to draw near to God.''~2 Though it should lead to personal conversion, the word of God is not in the first place a private message. A true understanding of the biblical texts (working from Review for Religious and always respecting their literal meaning) sees them as God speaking to his people today in the concrete circumstances of their community life, both local and global. "The word of God endures forever." At least in theory the Scriptures have always sustained the church. Today the lectionary offers pastors a marvel-ous tool for the proc-lamation of the word of God to the people of God. Whether at the Eucharist or other liturgical functions, homilies should explain and give contemporary relevance to the mes-sage that has been pro-claimed by the readers. This requires study and serious preparation. With all the developments of recent years in the under-standing of the Bible, it is vital that Christian leaders avail of the opportunities for updating that come their way. ,3 Here I make a plea for greater attention to the Old Testament. The greatest of Christian biblical scholars, St. Jerome, once said that ignorance of the Scriptures is not to know Christ. We can add that ignorance of the Old Testament is not to know the Father of Jesus Christ. Everything that Jesus says about the Father in the Gospels can be interpreted as the fruit of his medita-tion on "the Scriptures." Even his parable of the Prodigal Son, with its beautiful perception of the mercy and love of God, can be traced back to such prophetical utterances as Hosea 11:1-9.14 '. A true understanding of the biblical texts sees them as God speaking to his people today in the concrete circumstances of their community life, both local and global. I371 65.4 2006 Ryder * The Bible and the Lectionary 372 There is a profound unity between the Old and the New Testaments. Yet we often come across the percep-tion that the former is not only old, but also out of date, irrelevant to the church of the third millennium. The Old Testament is the work of ancient masters, teachers who have left us a spiritual legacy of unsurpassed wisdom. Like old wine, this legacy continues to mature and with age becomes ever more potent. The Old Testament covers a thousand years' history of the people of God, while the New Testament spans a period of little more than half a century. Furthermore, the first fifty years of Christianity were a golden age, a time of marvelous growth and expansion throughout the world. The Old Testament, on the other hand, records the fail-ures as well as the successes, the lows as well as the highs, of the people of God. From that point of view, those who are suffering now because of their faith can gain consola-tion from "the loving fidelity" (hesed) of Yahweh, recorded so dramatically in the pages of the Old Testament. Attentiveness to the Word Vatican II describes the liturgy as both the source and the summit of Christian spirituality. The liturgy is the prayer of the church, the Christian community at its most authentic, giving power to every other activity of the peo-ple of God. But we need strategies to help the participants profit by the riches that are available. Over the years I have encouraged people to invest in small personal copies of the lectionary. Pondering the texts proposed by the lec-tionary for the various liturgical seasons is an excellent way of "thinking with the Church." Reflecting on the readings before the celebration can give the actual proclamation a greater impact and deeper personal significance. The following words from the Congregation for Divine Worship's "Suggestions and Proposals" for the Review for Religious Year of the Eucharist (2005) provide a fitting sum-mary of what has been said: "After reading from Sacred Scripture, the expression 'The word of the Lord!' recalls the importance of what proceeds from the mouth of God, and makes us hear it not as something 'distant' from us, however inspired it may be, but as the living word by which God addresses us. We are in the context of a true 'dialogue' of God with his people, a dialogue in which the marvels of salvation are proclaimed to us, and the demands of the covenant continually reproposed. "The Liturgy of the Word is a constitutive part of the Eucharist. We gather together in the liturgical assembly to listen to what the Lord has to say to us--to each and every one of us. He speaks to us here and now, to those who lis-. ten to him with faith, believing that he alone has the words of eternal life, that his word is a lamp for our feet. "Attentiveness to the word spoken is at the beginning of the spiritual life. To believe in Christ is to listen to his word and put it into practice. It is docility to the voice of the Holy Spirit, the interior Master who guides us to the whole truth--not only to the truth to be known, but also to the truth to be lived out." Notes ~ There is plenty of evidence of later editing in the prophetical works of the Old Testament. The Book of Isaiah is a composition of at least three different authors, and only the first thirty-nine chapters are now attributed to Isaiah of Jerusalem. 2 E.E. Meyers and J.W. Rogerson, The Cambridge Companion to the Bible (Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 228. 3 The Psalter may well have been the first book of the Hebrew Bible. Psalms go back as far as the worship of the first temple (built, accord-ing to tradition, by King Solomon). It can be seen, from the headings accompanying many of the psalms, that they were attributed to Solomon's father, King David. Various psahns were used for the different feasts, especially the autumn festival of the covenant renewal. In all likelihood 373 6Y.4 2006 Ryder ¯ The Bible and the Lectionary there were psalms for different occasions, and what we have in the Psalter is a limited number of the most important ones. 4 Hans Kiing, Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1992), p. 108. 5 Roland de Vaux, Ancient Israel (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1961), p. 343. L.L. Grabbe claims a later starting point for syna-gogue worship in A History of the Jews and Judaism (New York: T & T Clark International, 2004), p. 237. 6 L.I. Levine, The Ancient Synagogue (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), p. 139. 7 Quoted in Levine, Ancient Synagogue, p. 145. 8 See J.P. Meier, A Marginal Jew: Rethinking the Historical Jesus (New York: Doubleday, 1991). ~ Col 4:16. Even if Colossians is not an authentic Pauline letter, the exhortation to share the message with a neighboring church reflects an early practice. ~0 See J.P. Meier, The Vision of Matthew (New York: Paulist Press, 1979). ~1 Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the Gospel of John ed. F.J. Moloney (New York: Doubleday, 2003), p. 304. Of course, these are Jewish, not Christian feasts. Aileen Guilding contended that the dis-courses of Jesus were closely related to the readings in the synagogues on those feasts. The Fourth Gospel and Jewish Worship (Oxford: Clarendon, 1960). The present Catholic lectionary makes ample use of John in the baptismal catecheses of the Lenten Gospels. ~2 The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church, 1993, C1. 13 Though proclaiming the word of God is a primary duty of the liturgical celebrant, recent data show that the Catholic Church has cause for concern. Two studies commissioned by Andrew Greeley and quoted in his Priests: A Calling in Crisis, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004, p. 116) indicate that Catholics do not rate their clergy highly in preaching and leadership in worship. Worse still, according to Greeley, priests themselves do not seem aware of the problem, and their failure to communicate the word of God is one of the reasons why people are leav-ing the church. Even if Greeley's research was conducted in the U.S.A., I am sure it is representative of the clergy in other parts of the world. ,4 The New Testament writers drew their "theology" (teaching on God) from the Old Testament. After his conversion Paul changed his view of Jesus, recognizing him as the Promised One. But his belief in "the God of the Fathers," built up through meditation on the biblical word of the Old Testament, remained the bedrock of his preaching on divine providence. His moral instruction, too, presumes the ethical teachings of the Hebrew Bible. Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation ~fihnaalt lIi scta ollf tphher caosedsa dtoe stchrei bAinpgo sfdoeusr' mCarejoerd dios cit-s trines: "the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting." Experienced people can especially appreciate these great doctrines because they address our deepest human concerns, namely, existential loneliness, personal guilt, physical mortality, and our insatiably infi-nite longings. In other words, we are given four basic doctrines that bring our spirits hope in the face of the most oppressive psychological burdens, namely, guilt, loneliness, mortality, and longing. Our Physical Mortality Perhaps the heaviest of these burdens is the realiza-tion of our inevitable death, though for some of us it is the load of guilt we carry, consciously or unconsciously. Brendan Kneale FSC wrote for us earlier this year. His address is De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation 376 For many people it is a sense of aloneness. Overlying this we have a deep, and necessarily unrequited, appetite for the infinite, a conscious or unconscious longing. One of the worst parts of "the human predicament" is the inevitability of our eventually dying--what Zechariah calls living in "the darkness of the shadow of death." But Zechariah says that, in addition to a promise of liberation from this "shadow of death," Christ brings "knowledge of salvation by the forgiveness of sins," making us "free to worship him without fear." No human being, regardless of how fortunate in matters of health or wealth or domestic comfort, is free of impending death and occasional realizations of that inevitability. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews mentions this terror in chapter 2. He speaks of the "fear of death which keeps us in slavery all our lives." And we recall the emotional passages in some of the Psalms about the burden of death, Psalm 90 for example, along with poignant words from Ecclesiastes. So in the Apostles' Creed we affirm our conviction that there will be for us a "resurrection of the body and life everlasting." The trauma of our earthly death will be really a kind of "birth trauma." This doctrine may well be, in our day and age, the hardest to accept of all Christian teachings. At the same time it is one of the most attrac-tive. Some historians attribute the rapid spread of early Christianity to the news of Christ's bodily resurrection and to people's strong desire to participate in it. Our Guilt We also affirm at the end of the Creed our belief in "the forgiveness of s!ns," a doctrine of enormous consola-tion. On the face of it, our guilt is irremovable because offenses against God are against the Infinite and we are only finite. Recall Psalm 65 with its doublet: "Too heavy R~view for Religious for us our offenses; but you wipe them away." The heavi-ness of guilt can be a force for good as well as evil, but it is still a burden. Guilt is one of the most powerful forces in human behavior. It can accompany both a suspicion of our own culpability and a state of actual culpability. It entails, as the dictionary says, a felt need to repay or requite the persons offended. It is related to feelings of remorse and shame, an awareness and regret over our responsibility for evil. Psalm 65 notes, "We are overcome by our sins." Guilt can cast a shadow over a whole life. Nevertheless, we know it can be relieved, at least in part, by forgive-ness. We need to accept for-giveness as well as bestow it. If we try, instead, to wipe our own offense from our memo- The heaviness of guilt can be a force for good as well as evil, but it is still a burden. ries, the psychological damage may be difficult to assess. Pope St. Clement wrote that it is better to admit one's sins than to harden one's heart. Guilt can drive us to inflict grave harm on ourselves and on others. It can also drive us to do good things. Acquittal or forgiveness removes punishment, but it does not remove the historical fact of guilt. That fact keeps us grateful for forgiveness. Guilt seems different from shame in that it is internal while shame is more external, or per-haps one relates to offenses against God and his law while the other relates to offenses against society and its conven-tions. Shame and guilt sometimes overlap, and in a moral society would do so more frequently. A theological problem about forgiveness may occur to us in connection with Christ's telling the Good Thief on the cross, "This day you will be with me in paradise." It is 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation easy to see how Christ as a Divine Person could forgive the sins that Dismas committed against God, but it is not easy to see how Christ could forgive sins committed by a thief against his victims--and for Christ to do so without the victims' prior consent. One would think that such forgive-ness belongs also to the victims. Is Christ the spokesman of forgiveness for all victims of the sins of robbery even though he himself is not (or does not seem to be) one of the direct victims? In a parallel question, can Christ forgive the sins we commit against ourselves even if we do not? The answer has to be yes. But on what grounds must we say so? There are probably two or three ways here to try to answer the question. First, incarnational. Christ is not a mere human person; his personhood transcends all human per-sons, and he can speak for us all (just as in his two natures he can speak for human beings as well as for God). He is "the Son of Man" as well as one of the three Persons, so that he is not only our spokesman before God but also the spokesman to all people and for all people. Second, evangelical. Christ tied his gospel message intimately to the forgiveness that we must exercise toward one another. Insofar as his message is successful and insofar as we are with him, we forgive each other and leave vengeance (or the popular term "closure") to God. The Our Father, both in context and content, empha-sizes that point. Also, when in Mark 12:34 Christ praises the scribe, it is because he sees the intimate connection between love of God and love of neighbor. Third, eschatological. It seems that one of the main purposes of the Last Judgment is to demonstrate the justice of God. It is no doubt mysterious, but every thief, including the Good Thief, will have found that justice has been done for his victims, and the victims will find it so to. The word "trespass" in the Our Father is a good choice, since our sins are like trespassing on the rights of God. Review for Religious God is offended but not harmed by our sins. Of course, the reason why he is offended by our sins is that these sins do harm to us and often to our neighbors, all of whom God loves. Loving us, he does not want to see us or anyone else harmed. The adage "Love me, love my dog" can be extended to God's desire that all people love one another. Our Insatiable Longing Is there not at least a third affliction shared by all man-kind, namely, an appetite for more, feeling we can never have enough in this life? We want not only an immortal and guilt-free life, but we want it to be unencumbered in all respects, wholly and completely fulfilled. Thoreau's famous Walden aphorism has it that "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation," and Virgil wrote: Sunt lacrimae - rerum, et mentem mor-talia tangunt--there are the tears of things, and the realities of death bear on one's spirit. Paul gives a Christian slant to Virgil in Romans 8:21: "It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was unable to attain its purpose [that is, was subject to futility]; it was made so by God. But creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, and to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth--and not only creation but all of us." We frequently sense that we are hemmed in by our finite circumstances since we aspire to much more than We often shield ourselves from deeper aspirations and real fears by pursuing and possessing material things. 379 65.4 2006 Kneale ¯ Coda to the Creed: An Appreciation we have. In fact, we possess a capacity for the Infinite (whether we are aware of the Infinite or not). Our life-long dissatisfaction with having an ever greater number of good things in this life should make us aware of this capacity. We, though, often shield ourselves from deeper aspirations and real fears by pursuing and possessing material things. And nonbelievers may try to fulfill such deep aspirations by a life of the mind and an appreciation of the arts--which, after all, are finite too. It was popular a generation ago to refer to the con-ditions of our earthly life as "the human predicament" and to our life as one of "exile." A real pessimism envel-ops some people. The Rumanian-French aphorist E.M. Cioran drew this depressing conclusion: "Some people still wonder if life has a meaning. In fact it all comes down to knowing whether it is bearable." But the Creed promises that our reward is everlasting. All longings will be met, including the desire for meaning. Our Loneliness "The holy Catholic Church" and "the Communion of Saints." We are convinced that we are not alone. It is true that our uniqueness as individuals separates us from all other people. But, as St. Paul implies, the parts of one's body, the leg or the ear, are not individually lonely. When we as individu-als are fully incorporated in the Body of Christ, we will have found a cure for all loneliness, both existential and social. The Church Glorious will be sociable. At the beginning of the Creed, we are assured that God is not lonely: there are three Persons in God. That revela-tion is a source of great consolation, a consolation apparendy denied to Jews and Muslims (whose God is understood as very lonely). In the Christian vision, as Alfons Deeken SJ put it years ago, "God exists as a fellowship and friendship of three Divine Persons. In the Trinity each Person has his existence Review for Religious only in relation to the others, and it is only in existing for the others, in the process of infinite giving and receiving of love, that each One is fully himself. Self-being does not decrease through self-giving. Thus the Trinity, as the source and model of all personhood and community, shows us that the high-est perfection of a person is not self-assertion, isolation, and independence, but rather openness and loving commitment to others" (Growing Old, and How to Cope with It, Paulist Press, 1972). Prayer Suggestion There is a prayer tradition that we choose a prayer formula such as our Creed, and we find ourselves in God's presence as we dwell on individual words or phrases of the prayer formula. Where we find relish and consolation, we remain until we feel that we should move on to another word or phrase. Then, when we have come to the end of our prayer time, we simply pray through the whole Creed in the usual way. In the light of the reflection by Brendan Kneale FSC, we might use the last part of the Creed for our daily prayer in this fashion over some days. We might also use the whole text for our prayer in this way. 65.4 2006 ARMAND NIGRO God's Invitation 382 l~is something awesome. It verges on the incred-le, even the ridiculous. Mmighty God, Creator and Lord of the Universe, wants to be involved and commu-nicate with us. God invites us to spend time with Him, to realize He is truly our Abba, as He is for Jesus, and to taste and relish that relationship This is an invitation to faith, to wait on the Lord, believing that God will reveal Himself to us and share with us His gracious purposes. It is God's invitation to prayer. God Acts In Us If we are open to it, God directly acts in us, speaks to us in every created experience, especially in the sacred Word in Scripture. Every sensible reality, from raindrop to wild weed to human smile, is a partial revelation of God, a finite shape of God's creative love. Every word in Holy Scripture is a humanly conditioned word of God, ever alive, full of meaning and power for us. Armand Nigro SJ is retreat director and pastoral minister at Holy Spirit Center; 10980 Hillside Drive; Anchorage, Maska 99507. Review f~r Religious Take a serious look at this revelation in passages like Psalm 81, Isaiah 55, Hosea 2 and 11,Jeremiah 1, Matthew 11:25, and John 14 and 15. Listening To God This astounding revelation is not merely for our minds; it is a call for us to experience and live in it. But this will never take place unless we take time to listen to God, to savor God's word and let it soak into us. Unless we do this, we'll never really know God. The danger is not just that we not take time to listen to him, but that we may even ignore what we hear. "Don't harden your hearts," God pleads in Psalm 95. But why should God care at all? Let's face it, if I were God, the last thing I'd want to do is be bothered by peo-ple like me. "To hell with them if they won't listen! No skin off my nose if they behave themselves or not. They are just not worth troubling over, especially for a God who has infinitely better and more important things to think about." God's Answer God's answer to this is: "But you are not God. I am. And My thinking is not your thinking and my ways are not your ways (Isaiah 5 5). You are My son, My daughter. I want to be your Abba (Father and Mother to you). This is what I want. This is important to me. Won't you believe me? Won't you let me?" Incredible--absolutely incredible! 65.4 2006 SE!~q D. SAMMON Sexuality and Celibate Chastity: Friends Not Foes living chastely Priest and author Ronald Rolheiser tells of a curious young man finding himself seated next to a woman religious on a plane trip. He asks her a number of questions, mostly about celi-bate chastity. He remarks, "What intrigues me about you, Sister, is your obvious zest for life. Now imagine how much more satisfying that life would be if you also had sex." And her response? "What impresses me about you," she says, "is your sincerity and the fact that you are searching for love. But love and sex are not the same thing. Now imagine how much richer your life might be if you were open to that possibility." How easily people can amiably use mutually intelligi-ble words and not understand each other at all! The word sexuality encompasses much more than genital sex. It includes our way of being in the world as a man or woman, the attitudes and characteristics that we call masculine and Sefin D. Sammon FMS writes again from Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.E 10250; 00144 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious feminine. The word and the reality remind us that we are social beings, that we need and desire friendship and affection. These are God-given ways to be holy. Sexual and spiritual energy should be friends and not foes. Both aim at union with God and others. Human sexuality has more to do with self-transcendence than with self-fulfillment. The human life cycle neatly outlines the discussion of sexuality and celibate chastity. Forming an identity and developing closer relationships are different for you and me at twenty than at forty-five. Twenty years later these opportunities and challenges are different again. Over a lifetime we change in our self-understanding, our knowledge of how the world works, our understanding of our faith in Jesus Christ and our way of living that faith. Why would we not also change in our understanding and appreciation of our sexuality and our celibate chastity? Talking about intimacy, sexuality, and the vow of chas-tity is difficult. People lack effective words or a sense of comfort, and mutual understanding fails to occur. When asked why we chose a life of celibate chastity, we might answer, "For the sake of the kingdom; in order to love everyone and not just one person; to be more available." These answers are "not bad,".but they leave most of us and our listeners unsatisfied. When I use the phrase celiba{e chastity here, I will mean vowed chastity as it is lived within religious insti-tutes today. Celibate chastity is at the very heart of the way of life we call religious, it is not just an ascetical practice, though it may feel that way at times. And, while it is intimately related to our mission, it did not come into existence to make religious congregations' apostolic work more efficient. Celibate chastity is a defining char-acteristic of our way of life and needs to be seen as such. God has reached out to us in Jesus. Jesus has called us to 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Foreclosing ouf identity= sets thestage fqr later problems with.intimacy follow him. The relationship we have with him must be central to our lives. Have you ever asked yourself: "Where am I going in life?" "How am I using or wasting my talents?" "Does my presence in this religious community make any dif-ference at all--would I be missed if I were not here?" Such questions are related to both identity and intimacy, particularly challenging issues for young religious. They need to form a first or provisional identity as they move from their late teens to their late twenties. They need also to face questions of intimacy in their lives. Identity formation gets underway when we ask, "Who am I and what do I cherish or hold dear?" In answer-ing we move though three phases. First we explore our life ¯ options; next we see that we must choose one from among a variety of attractive possibilities; finally we must decide, com-mitting ourselves to a particular identity. Understandably, this process is influenced by culture and custom. The manner in which men and women approach it varies. Nevertheless, exploring options and making difficult choices are part of the life history of almost all who have achieved an identity instead of having one thrust upon them. Some among us foreclose identity. Overwhelmed by the number of options or lacking the wherewithal to succeed in one or another, we quicHy step into an identity that is ready-made, like a shirt that comes ready-made through the mail. We keep it whether it fits well or not. Foreclosing our identity sets the stage for later prob-lems with intimacy. There is hope, though, for, if we have Rt.vie~v for Religious not formed an identity early, we are given other oppor-tunities over the years. Times of transition give us new chances. At midlife, for example, certain reassessments about life can be made. Identity and Intimacy Why spend all this time discussing identity? Because of its relation to intimacy. This word has been defined too narrowly in the past. I suggest this description: Intimacy occurs when we are sure enough about ourselves as per-sons, are so much at home with ourselves, that we can risk closeness with someone else.~ During our early adulthood we are young in our understanding and experience of intimacy. Some would suggest that, while deep loving relationships are possible for young people, they are more the exception than the rule. For most of us mature intimacy is just not possible until later in life. Uncertainty and confusion often sur-round young adult sexuality, and the rich spirituality that lies at the heart of mature celibate chastity is often not available until the middle years. When men and women religious move through their early adult years, intimacy questions arise, and genital-sexuality questions as well. Today the media and a good many people see genital restraint as constricted and par-tial living that leads to a lonely life ahead. How, then, do we prepare those in formation for the challenges they will face? How do we help them grow into a celibate and chaste way of loving others? How do we help them understand, from our own experience, the joys and satis-factions of celibate chaste living? In their late twenties and early thirties some sisters, priests, and brothers fall in love for the first time. This experience, sometimes more infatuation than genuine intimacy, can be an important step toward building lov- 6Y.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity ing adult relationships with other men and women. This outcome can occur, ho.wever, only if they can talk about the relationship. Unfortunately these relationships often remain hidden, shrouded in secrecy. We all need some privacy in our relationships, but, if secrecy overshadows any of them, trouble usually lies ahead. You and I benefit from time together with friends and so does our community. It is natural to look forward to being with people whose very presence is life-giving for us. Religious life itself has always included caring relation-ships that grow over time. Witness the great friendships down through the centuries, friendships that flourished even when rules warned against them. The tendency of most of us is to share our friends with others. Secrecy in a relationship is something quite differ-ent and becomes an obstacle to mature celibate chastity. Secrecy robs people of the opportunity of getting advice from someone outside of the relationship, someone who can keep them honest about what is transpiring. All of us risk deluding ourselves about relationships, particu-larly those with romantic overtones. The decisions we make about them may be flawed. And in these matters people do make decisions. If two religious end up in bed together, they should not claim that angels carried them there. Rather, they need to admit that they made a series of decisions that led to this outcome. We need privacy for some relationships to grow, but we must also must set limits if we are to live with integrity. This is true not only in the lives of priests and religious, but in everyone's life, married or single. Living my life in keeping with the commitments that I made means that my love will not be expressed genitally, but in reality it may be no less intimate. In our sexuality as in so many other areas of our lives, we do well to remember that we are unfinished and incom- Review for Religiozts plete. In making prudent life choices about sexuality, we in turn make many other decisions. With midlife we become more aware that limits have been part of all our best choices. Friendship Any intimate relationship stretches one's identity. But is that not what needs to happen as we move through the stages of our life? We need to make ourselves known, risk our self-definition, and allow others to come close to us precisely so that we can - be known, influenced, and possibly changed as a result of the rela-tionship. Many situa-tions call for the risk of our self-understanding. Close friendships allow - ~ us to relax the stance which we usually assume when fac-ing the world and most other people. Friends reach a part of us that is inaccessible to others; they know us as others do not. Friends are not frightened by one another's weak-nesses, and so they feel free to share their fears, concerns, difficulties. As a consequence they learn to be more at home with themselves, their qualities, their preoccupa-tions. In community life people can risk self-definition, and most do. Some, however, stay on the fringes, moving in and out of the community's life but refusing to let other members have any claim on them. If a weekend activ-ity is planned, fringe members will encourage the others to make their plans, saying they will fit in if they can. Whereas for most of us absence from community activi-ties occurs from time to time, for fringe members it is a way of life. They have difficulty with intimacy; by not Any intimate relationship stretches one's i&ntity. 65.4 2006 Sam,non * Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 390 allowing the group to come close to them, they avoid the "difficulty" of being changed by their presence. They protect their self-definition, and they perpetuate their isolation, living alone in the midst of the group. Their relationships fail to flourish. What they may point to as intimacy is often a pseudo-intimacy. The consequences of refusing to risk self-definition are grave. The persons deny themselves one of life's greatest gifts, the experience of friendship. Situations involving cooperation and competition can help us to stretch our self-understanding. Working together with others on a task, we become aware of per-sonal gifts and abilities not recognized previously. We may discover that we have skills that help a group com-plete an assigned task. Athletes have similar experiences. In difficult games they may discover unknown talents and learn endurance as they make an all-out effort to win. The experience of intimacy can be a help to prayer. A corollary is that people may apply their fear of human intimacy to God as well, keeping God at arm's length so that even God does not disturb supposedly well-thought-out plans. Such plans are far from the indifference sought in making a good discernment. Only when I am indiffer-ent am I free enough to appreciate what is in God's heart for me. If I pray regularly and enjoy intimacy with God, God's desire has a good chance of becoming my own, for my own benefit. Authentic discernment demands that I risk intimacy with God, talking over my mixed feelings, my fears, in a closeness that could change my self-defini-tion and my life. Do not, however, confuse self-disclosure with inti-macy itself. True intimacy includes caution and selectiv-ity. It is altogether different from telling one's life story in great detail to a total stranger at a social gathering-- something most of us back off from in embarrassment, Review for Religious excusing ourselves for a moment, with the hope that upon our return the person will be just as animatedly engaged with someone else. Real relationships take time. Some parts of ourselves, shared easily at the right time in a relationship, could not have been spoken about earlier. Though friends are people with whom you and I share confidences, they are much more than that. Over time a history develops between two friends. They prove themselves mutually dependable. Eventually they realize that they valued each other long before they ever thought of anything like an evaluation. Friendship between Men and Women Using but a few words, the psychologist Carol Gilligan has put into perspective the differences between men and women. "It all goes back, of course, to Adam and Eve," she says, "a story that shows, among other things, that if you make a woman out of a man, you are bound to get into trouble." When it comes to relationships, men and women have differences in style and expectation. In a number of cultures men learn early in life how to be part of a team. As they grow up, teamwork continues to be important for them both in work and play. The bonds that men develop, then, depend more on solidarity than self-disclosure. It is the things they do together that bind them. When they do not have those things to do, many men stop com-ing together. Among women, relationships are usually more important than anything they might do together. Women tend to value their friendships with other women especially for the emotional support and understanding they receive; they spend time together exploring their personal experience and inner world of meaning. Men tend to be uncomfortable when they sense that a woman friend wants them to reveal more about them- I391 65.4 2006 Sammon * Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 392[ selves than they care to. Women tend to be disappointed that their male friends are not so forthcoming in emo-tional sharing as they would like them to be. Men and women, though, agree strongly on this: in cross-gender relationships, the issue of sex has to be resolved before the friendship can deepen. If a man and woman in a rela-tionship have a strong sexual attraction to one another and fail to talk about these feelings with someone else, trouble often lies ahead. Men and women, of course, differ also in other ways than we have mentioned, but friendships continue to flourish between them. With friends we do not have to be altogether consistent; we can think and feel differently on alternate days with little consequence. During periods of significant personal change, friends can and should be specially aware and considerate, not exaggerating per-sonal ideas of how things are "supposed to be." All people haveboth a masculine and a feminine side within their personalities. Every culture has its gender images, but rigid adherence to them can be quite prob-lematic, leading to distorted emotional development and difficulties with intimacy. Early in life most women are unaware of their masculine side, and the same can be said of most men and their feminine side. For a relationship of mature intimacy, the masculine and feminine aspects in us must have a certain level of integration. This is true regardless of sexual orientation. During their twenties and thirties, men and women struggle with intimacy in different ways. A man often sees a danger in closeness, fearing it will limit his inde-pendence. He shies away. A woman is often apprehensive about separation. At this time in their lives, while men are having difficulty with closeness in a relationship, women are finding it hard to be separate and be their individual selves. A failure to integrate masculine and feminine sides Review for Religious gives rise to several consequences. A woman finding her masculine side threatening shies away from demonstrat-ing her natural competence in one area of life or another. A man fearing implications of his more intuitive feminine qualities gives the mes- - . sage that he is unavail-able for relationship. He can appear sulky, with-drawn, overly sensitive. Midlife is a good time for doing this work of integration. Increasingly aware that we have lived at least half of our earthly life already, we become less concerned about gender image and we grow in our ability for genu-ine closeness and in our self-knowledge and acceptance. Some aspects of ourselves defy greater self-knowl-edge. These shadow traits, often obvious to others, are hidden from us. When a man projects the positive quali-fies of his own feminine side onto a woman, she becomes highly desirable to him--the object of his fantasies and sexual longings. This situation becomes, in time, suffo-cating for a woman. As she develops her own personality in the relationship, she finds this same man now blaming her somehow for his unhappiness and negative moods. When a woman projects her unconscious masculine side onto a man, she overvalues him, seeing him as a hero and guide. Over time, however, she begins to see her earlier savior and guide as the source of all her feelings of belittlement and disappointment. Projection does little or nothing to foster mature intimacy. It fosters mutual fascination and infatuation, which can be important steps toward mature intimacy, For a relationship of mature intimacy, the masculine and feminine aspects in us must have a certain level of integration. 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity but relationships built on this foundation do not last. In such a relationship the persons are actually in love with themselves. 394 Sexual Orientation In any discussion about human sexuality and celibate chastity, we need to say a word about sexual orientation. There have always been, are now, and always will be homo-sexually oriented .men and women as members of religious congregations. Among this group are persons of exemplary celibate chastity; others have stretched the meaning of the vow of chastity beyond recognition. But the same can be said of their heterosexual brothers and sisters. I believe that some recent discussions about the area of sexual ori-entation have taken the wrong focus. Rather than empha-sizing people's heterosexuality or homosexuality, we would better direct our energies towards helping everyone called to religious life to live lives of celibate chastity. The area of sexual orientation is complex. There are many different approaches in discussing the matter. Some use the term "transitory homosexuality" to describe a sit-uation in which a person finds himself or herself sexually attracted to a member of the same sex but is not, in fact, homosexually oriented. If this is the case with a novice, what the formation personnel need is understanding and compassion. Others would contend that more than a few people, while defining themselves in the main as hetero-sexual or homosexual, find that their sexual feelings and fantasies are more accurately described as falling along a continuum. Formation personnel and other religious need to be at home with their own sexuality and orienta-tion and, of course, with their choice to live in a celibate chaste way. Of particular concern in recent years has been the abuse of male children at the hands of the clergy and Review for Religious male religious. There is no empirical evidence linking homosexuality with this behavior called pederasty. As tragic as sexual abuse is for all involved, wrong would not be righted nor children protected by policies based on the faulty notion that homosexuality and a predisposi-tion to abuse children are linked. Mention is sometimes made about the destructive effect that a gay subculture can have when it is present in a house of formation, a seminary, or a religious com-munity. Subcultures, be they sexual or otherwise, have no place in religious life. When they do emerge, however, it might be more profitable to seek the reason for their exis-tence rather than simply insist that they cease to exist. In consecrated life our primary identity must be our identity as religious persons. No other identities--family, intellectual, interpersonal, sexual--none of these nor any other can take precedence over our identity as religious persons. That identity more than anything else shapes our faith, our self-understanding, and our journey of self-transcendence. Spiritual Growth If sexuality lies at the center of the spiritual life, the spiritual life is likewise at the heart of genuine celibate chaste living. For our celibate chastity, Jesus Christ must rest at the center of our lives. For that to happen, we must accept Jesus' love for us in a special way. The rela-tionship that each of us has with him and its pattern of development are unique. Everyone's spirituality must be tailor-made to reflect these realities. As religious all of us have been presented with formulas and plans of action that carry with them some guarantee of success in the spiritual life, but unfortunately those formulas and plans of action tend to ignore the unique relationship that we each have with Jesus. They may even get in the way. 65.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity 396 To ensure that our life with God is at the heart of our celibate chastity, we need be ready for spiritual awaken-ings, willing to explore the longings that are present in them. Spiritual awakenings may be like sexual awakening at the age of puberty. They may be startling or more gradual. Our desire for God grows. Finally we become vividly aware that God's love is given to us freely with no strings attached, without our having earned it. The idea of having to earn God's love is just out of the question. To be involved with Jesus Christ means embracing the paschal mystery. He asks us to imitate him, not admire him. When you and I dedicate our celibate lives to him, to closeness to him, we must realize that it includes suf-fering and death. Relationships do not just happen; they take time and effort. Throughout the ages spiritual writers have insisted that personal prayer is essential to a relationship with the Lord. For that bond to become strong, moments of prayer must eventually become regular and longer, ide-ally an hour each day. More than a few in religious life, however, will plead a lack of time. That claim rings true, because the activity.of some of us today borders on the pathological. It is the single greatest threat to our inte-rior life and leads only to greater self-preoccupation, an overemphasis on efficiency, and restlessness. Those who are overly busy are less likely to encounter Jesus in the marketplace of everyday life; they lack sufficient inte-riority. An obsession with efficiency leaves little room for spontaneity, for an openness to wonder. Restlessness, compulsively seeking one experience after another, inter-feres with developing a spirit of solitude, hospitality, and genuine prayer. By way of contrast, the fruits and gifts of the Holy Spirit are evident in the lives of those who pray regularly. Numbered among those fruits are charity, a spirit of joy, Review for Religious patience, forbearance, faith, and reverence for oneself and others. The gifts include wisdom, understanding, coun-sel, knowledge, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord. Are these fruits and gifts of the Spirit present in our lives? If not, we need to wonder about how seriously we take our relationship with Jesus Christ. We need to decide what we need to change in our lives in order to practice what we espouse publicly. Our Christian life, at its heart, is about a relationship with Jesus Christ. That relationship is the solution for my restiveness, the answer to my ques-tions, the source of my joy. There will always be people in our world who con-sider those who live our kind of life to be naive and foolish. And we are. Naive, because the choice does not follow social convention; foolish, because to embrace and live well a life of celibate chastity leads inevitably to a revolution of the heart. Bernard Lonergan SJ calls it "an otherworldly falling in love. It is total and permanent self-surrender without conditions, qualifications, reserva-tions." Living such a life bears great fruit. We discover the true meaning of passion, becoming more deeply spiri-tual and sexual at the same time. Over time we become more at home with ourselves and with God. For the per-son who embraces fully the challenge of a life of celibate chastity, the description "deeply spiritual and profoundly human" becomes eventually the only one that is apt. It tells the whole story. Let us pray that we have the cour-age to make it our own. References David Finkelhor and Associates. A Sourcebook on Child Sexual Abuse. Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage, 1986). Bernard Lonergan. Method in Theology. London: Herder and Herder, 1972. James Nelson. Intimate Connection: Male Sexvcafity and Mastwline Spiritualily. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1988. 397 6Y.4 2006 Sammon ¯ Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Ronald Rolheiser. The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christhm Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. --. Forgotten among the Lilies. New York: Doubleday, 2005. Lillian Rubin. Intimate Strangers: Men and Women Together. New York: Harper and Row, 1983. --. Just Friends: The Role of Friendship in Our Lives. New York: Harper and Row, 1985. Sandra M. Schneiders. Selling All: Commitment, Consecrated Celibacy, and Community in Catholic Religious Life. Mahwah: Paulist, 2001. Sean Sammon. An Undivided Heart: Making Sense of Celibate Chastity. Staten Island: Alba House, 1993. Sean Sammon. "Celibate Chastity: An Affair of the Heart." Pastoral Review, April 2001. John Sanford. Invisible Partners. Ramsey: Paulist, 1980. 398 Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. After reading Sammon's article, are we able to give a more adequate answer to the question, "Why do we choose a life of celibate chastity?" 2. Have we found that our experiences of intimacy with others has been a help in the fervor of our prayer life? 3. Let's explore the implications of this sentence: If sexuality lies at the center of the spiritual life, the spiritual life is likewise at the heart of genuine celibate chaste living. Review for Rdigious ANNETTE M. PELLETIER "Bride of Christ": Timely Sign in Signless Times? ~fohodi lceo sutartn adti nthge i nC laitnheo tloic g Uetn aiv ceurspi toyf ocfo fAfemee irnic tah,e a young woman student, noticing that I was a religious sister, tapped me on the shoulder and asked earnestly, "Sister, are there any other sisters on campus? Sisters are seldom seen these days. W-here are they?" I said, "Oh, yes, there are sisters on campus, both as professors and as students. You might not see them, but they are here." Some time later, another young woman student, the leader of the women's vocation discernment group, invited me to accompany them on their fall retreat, to talk with them about the meaning of "bride of Christ," and to say something on "the chastity bit." Her question jolted me. How long had it been since I had thought of myself as a "bride of Christ"? The other question encour-aged me. Young Catholic women are asking, "Where are 399 Annette M. Pelleder IHM wrote two articles for us a dozen years ago. Her address is Immaculate Heart Convent; 6600 Little Falls Road; Arlington, Virginia 22213. 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Cl~rist" How curious that ~chastity,: maligned and misunderstood in contemporary ~ulture, is a virtue tha~t youth see and wonder abouL 4001 the sisters?" The tone seemed to say we are missed or at least missing. They are also wondering about that "chas-tity bit." Are Catholic religious women really "brides of Christ"? It seems to me that, at least on one campus in the United States, women university students are asking what it means for a Catholic woman to be consecrated to God as a religious sister. Could such interest or curiosity be a new sign in our times? Among religious women, post-Vatican II theologi-cal reflection on the identity and mission of the conse-crated life abounds. Vatican II's decrees Pe~fectae caritatis (1,5) and Lumen gentium (42) and, more recently, Pope John Paul's Vita con-secrata (3,4,5) situated the consecrated life at the heart of its mys-tery and mission, a gift from God to the church for the church. The International Congress on the Consecrated Life (Rome, 2004) por-trayed religious life in the postmodern era as a way of life imbued with a Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (Pauline Books and Media, 2005). Sandra Schneiders's trilogy, Religious Life in the New Millennium, examines the "qualitative dif-ference between questions religious ask today in compari-son with two decades ago. Selling All (vol. 2) retrieves and explores consecrated virginity as symbolic of the "unitive and transformative bond" between the Christian woman and Christ.4 In reference to the "chastity.bit," the body, as symbol that spea.ks its own "language," is the subject of theological reflection. Thus, the physical reality of the Review for Religious virginal body retains its place in our time as a timeless sign of the "kingdom come" and "coming" in every age and stage of history. Consecrated virginity has been and remains "exceptional gift of grace., a special symbol of heavenly benefits" (PC 12). How curious that chastity, maligned and misunderstood in contemporary culture, is a virtue that youth see and wonder about!6 Paradoxically, the youths' queries suggest that the way of life that is the "most perfect expression of the gospel on earth" (VC 18) has evolved into a symbol without a sign. Current theo-logical reflection digs deeply into the nature of symbol. Symbols implicitly convey meaning and affectively draw us into their world where relationships are effected. Certainly these youthful seekers' questions merit an answer. And what could be a more appropriate source for instruction and inspiration than the signs and symbols of the church's liturgical rites for this way of life? Relying on the ancient dictum lex orandi, lex credendi, lex agendi (as the church prays, the church believes and acts), we will examine how the signs, symbols, texts, and gestures in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" (here-after RPW) illuminate what it means to be a "bride of Christ.''1 The nuptial metaphor was applied to consecrated vir-ginity in the early church. Since apostolic times certain women freely dedicated their virginity to God, and the church "set her seal on this high vocation by. conse-crating those who followed it by a solemn prayer" (RPW ix). Gradually this public, solemn blessing was expanded and enriched with ritual gestures to more clearly manifest the meaning of a Christian woman's total commitment to Christ, the Bridegroom of the church. As the centuries passed, however, embellishments distorted, romanticized, or detracted from the original meaning of the rite. Vatican II's Sacrosanctum concilium occasioned the restoration of 401 65.4 2006 402 the splendor, dignity, and symbolism of the ancient "Rite of Consecration of Virgins" as well as the formulation of two distinct and separate rites, "Religious Profession of Men" and "Religious Profession of Women" (SC 9). Unlike the "Rite of Consecration of Virgins," the "Rite of Religious Profession" includes consecrated celi-bacy and poverty and obedience as well. We will restrict our focus to the meaning of nuptial metaphor (bride of Christ) in the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women." Basic to this consideration is that the body itself is a sym-bol. The body merits attention as the place of sacramental encounter, "the place of symbolic convergence--through gestures, words, postures, . . . and silences" (Chauvet, 152)--for making us believers. The body means some-thing. What one does with one's body or what is done by others to the body has significance. The choice for consecrated chastity makes the body stand for a religious meaning. Body gender carries inherent meaning in human relationships, human personhood. Who were the "brides of Christ" in early Christianity? This article cannot do justice to the copious literature ancient Christian writers devoted to Christian women virgins. Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine used nuptial metaphors from Scripture in describing Christ and the church, the soul and God, and the Christian virgin and Christ. The Christian woman's choice to follow Christ by renouncing marriage, childbearing, and child rearing endowed her with a new status in the ecclesial community. As "bride of Christ" she could be no one else's bride. The permanent state of virginity has been seen as a life "more blessed than the martyrs," and "a fleck of divine gloW in a dark world." The virgin was honored by the commu-nity as uniquely holy and pure "the way God is holy and Review for Religious pure." Christian virgins--not unique in the practice of virginity in the ancient world--were unique in embodying a permanent state of exclusive dedication to Christ. Virginity of this nature was unknown in antiquity. It was seen in the Roman Empire with suspicion and con-sidered a threat to both the family and the state. Christian virgins testified to their chosen state in life "with such passion that they were ready to die rather than renounce it" (Schneiders, 183). In fact, the women's choice of vir-ginity was a radical act of personal autonomy rare during this period in history. The nuptial metaphor was a par-ticularly effective declaration of a unique and influential status. These women were exempt from the social norm of being married to a husband "because they were already married--to Christ" (Schneiders, 183). The bridal meta-phor expressed the ultimate form of discipleship practiced by women. What was their role in the Christian community? Christian women virgins, then, had a highly sym-bolic presence and endowed an ecclesial community with a certain prestige. The sacredness of the human body bridged this world and the next. As the Roman Empire began to crumble, Christian virgins exemplified "conti-nuity in its most pure state" (Brown, 271), a certainty of the reality of the heavenly kingdom come. This distinct embodiment of a relationship with Christ witnessed to the certainty of eternal salvation in an uncertain world. The virgin's espousal to Christ was an embodied sacrality. The church's official recognition of this state of life abrogated the paterfamilias right and duty to arrange (or oblige) a daughter's marriage. This new and unique state of life testified eloquently to a spiritual intimacy with Jesus the Lord. Local churches welcomed them and honored a way of life eloquently embodying the holiness of God. 403 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Gbri~t" 404 Liturgical rites acknowledged their consecration to God as bride of Christ. Christian women who responded to this form of dis-cipleship were solemnly blessed by the bishop. Depictions of the "veiling of virgins" inscribed in the Roman cata-combs indicate that a blessing ritual designated the new status of a Christian woman now publicly recognized as a bride of Christ. Borrowing from Roman marriage customs, the bishop solemnly veiled the virgin in the assembly of Christians in the local church. Henceforth the bishop would be her special protector. The words of the episcopal blessing and the act of veiling conveyed the meaning of the ineffable mystery of bodily consecration to God. This was a singularly significant event for Christian communities immersed in the uncertainties of the declin-ing empire. To Christians the virgin's body heralded the future status of all the disciples of Christ who awaited a new heaven and earth where men and women "neither marry nor are given in marriage" (Lk 20:35). Christian virgins embodied the hope that "the things of the resur-rection stand at the door." Gradually the varying rites were compiled and pre-served in the Roman Pontifical. As the historical con-texts changed, consecrated virgins left their families and formed small communities of women. These evolved into monasteries and more recently into mobile apostolic reli-gious congregations. Consequently the theological rich-ness of the rite was obscured by romantic embellishments depending on the cultural context and ethos of the reli-gious congregation. So the revision of the Roman Ritual mandated by Vatican II occasioned the restoration of the ancient "Rite of the Consecration of Virgins" and the cre-ation of two others, the "Rite of Religious Profession for Women" and another for men (SC 80). These two new rites were to manifest a "more mature theology of the Review for l~eligious religious life and its connection to the mystery of Christ and the church." "Bride of Christ": A Timely Sign in Signless Times? How, then, does the "Rite of Religious Profession" incorporate nuptial imagery and remain linked to the ancient origins of the consecrated life? How does the new rite express the ineffable mystery of a bridal bond to God that surpasses maternity, paternity, friendship, and even discipleship? According to Schneiders (192), nuptial spirituality remedies "the ontological inequality" between the divine Jesus and the human virgin. "One of the most striking, not startling features of nuptial spirituality is the sense of equality with Jesus that the mystics express" (103). John of the Cross's Living Flame of Love and Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle employ nuptial images to express the union of the soul with God. Schneiders notes that Christian spirituality embraces nuptial imagery for men and for married couples, for example, the mysticism of the celibate John of the Cross, married mystics like Catherine of Genoa, and also St. Paul in texts referring to the church of Corinth (2 Co 11:2) (199). Since the religious life stands as "an abiding enact-ment" of the way of life of "the supreme consecrated one, Jesus Christ" (VC 22), the liturgy must convey this. This way of life itself witnesses to the church far beyond any apostolic service? The liturgy strives to enunciate the full meaning of this way of life. This meaning remains a challenge for religious today: the rediscovery of their life's symbolic and transcendent meaning.3 The rite deals with discipleship, communion of life, service, mission, witness, union with God. The parts--the Call, Examination, Solemn Prayer for Candidates, Words 6~.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Christ" 4061 of Profession, Solemn Blessing, Bestowal of Insignia-- announce and enact this "new and special consecration" (VC 31, RPW 22-77). True to the origins of consecrated virginity in the church, the Rite of Profession "begs God's grace for them by its public prayer and puts them in God's hands, blesses them and unites their offering with the Eucharistic Sacrifice" (RRP 1). But what signs signify the "special grace of intimacy of spousal communion which distinguishes this state in life from all others" (VC 16)? How does the rite "recall that wonderful marriage made by God which will be made fully manifest in the age to come, and in which the church has Christ alone for her spouse" (PC 12)? The inclusion of the Rite of Religious Profession in the Mass links it with essential life in the church. A short analysis of the rite can shed light on the bridal image of a consecrated woman disciple. The words of the Opening Prayer insert religious pro-fession into the heart of the mystery of the church. In the "Rite of Temporary Profession," the presider acknowl-edges that the Lord has "inspired our sisters with the resolve to follow Christ more closely," and he asks that "they may be able to offer you the perfect gift of their loving service" (RPW 286) In the "Rite of Perpetual Profession," the opening prayer praises God because "the grace of baptism has borne fruit in the lives of your ser-vants so that now they strive to follow your Son more closely" (RPW 288). Since these and other texts consis-tently refer to the candidates as "servants," both disci-pleship and mission are integral to the consecrated life. Similarly, ritual elements such as the Call, the Request, the Examination of Resolve, the Litany of the Saints, and the Act of Profession are reminders that religious profes-sion announces the Christian woman's resolve to embrace a way of life that makes present the risen Christ in history Review for Religious (VC 19). The candidates solemnly express their desire to publicly proclaim this radical form of discipleship (RPW 64). Their own words effect the transformation of their lives (Schneiders, 100). Words profess the invisible and ineffable mystery of this "new and special consecration" (VC 31). At this time the professed becomes a public sign and prophetic voice of the church as bride (VC 15,19). The liturgy endows the human word with the power to take baptismal consecration to the nth degree. Henceforth the professed stands for and in the eschaton: the great wedding banquet has already begun. The heavenly Bridegroom is here and waits to be met (Mr 25:1-13). Where, then, does the rite incorporate the nuptial metaphor? Bridal imagery that existed in the ancient "Rite of the Consecration of Virgins" was not dis-carded when the Roman Missal was revised. It was integrated into the rite along with the other two evangelical counsels, obedience and poverty. Canonically the religious life is a stable form of life which "manifests in the church the wonderful marriage brought about --- by God, a sign of the future age"; the consecrated person's "whole existence becomes a continuous worship of God in charity" (canon 607, ~1). And so the rite enacts the choice of Catholic women to live their baptismal consecration radically. The evangelical counsels manifest embodied chastity chosen for the sake of the kingdom, individual ownership renounced by poverty, and personal autonomy relinquished through obedience (PC 5,6). Religious profession announces the Christian woman's resolve to embrace away of life that makes present the risen Christ in history. 407 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Christ" 4O8 How and where is nuptial symbolism incorporated into the rite? The Liturgy of the Word offers various various biblical texts that express nuptial imagery. Nuptial imagery captured the intimacy between Yahweh and the Israelite community, particularly in prophetic literature. Hosea's voice echoes across the centuries bridging cov-enants: "I will betroth myself to you forever" (Ho 2:14). Similarly, Wisdom literature speaks of "Love as strong as death" (Sg 8:6-7) and the call of the beloved, "Rise my love and come" (Sg 2:8-14). Thus the word proclaimed awakens the memory of a vital relationship in the past that is to be enacted in the here and now of today. Nuptial themes are also evident in other elements of the rite. In the Request or Call, the presider asks the can-didates what they ask of God and his church. The reply, "We ask for perseverance in the following of Christ our Bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (RPW 59), links discipleship with the bridal image. After the public pronouncement of vows and the signing of the document of profession on the altar, the presider prays for God's blessing on the professed in the name of the assembly and praises God for this gift to the church (RPW 69,70). Nuptial imagery is woven into the text of the prayer as God is praised and thanked for the ancient covenant by which the human family was made "your bride radiant with your own likeness" (RPW 72). Then the new covenant in Christ is recalled and imaged in and through the church, which was formed "into his bride [and loved by him] with so great a love that he gave himself up for it" (RPW 72). The prayer concludes with an acknowledgment of God's 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, Review for Religious a bride adorned with jewels, a queen adorned in grace, a mother rejoicing in her children. Then the presider prays for the professed that they always be one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only Bridegroom . May they not fear him as their judge, but hear the voice of their Bridegroom lovingly inviting them to the wedding feast of heaven. (RPW 72) The words are followed by gestures and symbols that illuminate the invisible-to-the-eyes consecration. Depending on local custom, the professed are presented with a ring as "insignia of profession" (RPW 73). In Western cultures the wedding ring stands for this radical realization of the bap-tismal bond. As the ring is presented, the presider says: 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. (RPW 73) Nuptial imagery is reinforced as the choir and people respond singing: I am betrothed to the Son of the eternal Father, to him who was born of the Virgin Mother to be savior of the entire world. (RPW 75) Similarly, the "Rite of Temporary Profession" retains the ancient practice of the Presentation of the Veil to symbolize the new state of life conferred by the act of profession (RPW 34).4 The presider entrusts the newly professed with the veil, saying, "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the Church" (RPW 34).s Meanwhile the choir and people intone the refrain from the Song of Songs (3:3), "I have sought the Lord whom I love with all my heart" (RPV¢ 35, 36). The assembly echoes in song what is affirmed by the candidate and con-firmed by official representative of the religious congrega-tion. Distinct from the order of Christian virgins in the 4O9 65.4 2006 Pelletier ¯ "Bride of Cbrist" 410 early Church, this new and unique consecration is lived in community life, not in the privacy of a family home. Clearly, every element of the rite is "theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated." Gestures and symbols act as visible signs of the invisible reality of interior consecration. The liturgy conveys the meaning of an ineffable experience "in such a way that it becomes accessible to thought." As already mentioned, by the 4th century the veil.(flammeura) had been brought into the liturgy from Roman wedding ceremonies. The velatio (veiling) of virgins signifies that the virgin's body is "conse-crated by the divine Spirit," "dedicated to the Lord," "con-secrated to God," "consecrated at God's altars.''6 The rite signifies a new relationship of the Christian woman with Christ and with the Christian community, mediated by the bishop, as 'representative of the local church. The new sta-tus of the Christian woman virgin, bride, and disciple of Christ always stood out in the ecclesial community.7 Thus, the chastity and the meaning of "bride of Christ" coincide in this rite's blend of baptismal conse-cration and radical discipleship. Lex orandi informs lex credendi and transforms lex vivendi. Our catechesis on the meaning of the "bride of Christ" has relied on the lit-urgy to illuminate the meaning hidden in shadows. The Christian woman religious is both bride and disciple.~ In the crisis of symbolism in Western cultures, the symbolic value of the veil, ring, or any distinctive form of dress fares badly. We

Issue 59.1 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Vowed Life Featur~ Religious Mission ~ Finding God Living Celibat,ely Balkans Report JANUARY FEBRUARY 2_000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER I Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to bollness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the 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, aud correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; V~rashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©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. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such pertnission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. restrictions, in a world of hate and division, of civilian bombings and life-snuffing concentration camps, this iournal spoke about dialogue and intercommunication, about ministries of love and service, about vocations to align oneself with God's peaceable king-dom and to pray for that kingdom to come. I am thankful for the gift this journal has been to the church, to religious life, and to the spiritual-life developments of our times. I thank God for raising up and inspiring the founding editors to begin the dialogue--something not common in the 1940s--across the different spiritual heritages which are represented by Catholic religious congregations and which continue to feed the spiritual life of church members everywhere. I am grateful for all the writers who have shared their insights, raised questions, instructed in prayer and in ecclesial history, and inspired our ministerial efforts. For all that has been---Thanks! With this first issue of the year 2000 a new-look cover greets our readers, along with a revision of our secondary title. For the previous eight years, because of the creative contribution of the advisory board and the staff, the journal had this shorthand way of stating its content: Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living. After more discussion with current board members and staff, we now state our content even more simply: Living Our Catholic Legacies. Our mission statement, too, has found new expression for things our journal continues to have in view (see inside front cover). This is our way of saying Yes as we look to the future. While we say "To all that shall be--Yes," I have some con-cern about a shrinking subscriber list. We know that the primary readership--women and men religious--continues to grow less in number in the United States and in European countries. I would not like to say Yes to a declining subscription number without encouraging all of you tostir up your own efforts to increase our readers, hopefully even our subscribers, among your own congre-gation members and associate members if you are a religious, and among friends and colleagues who share spiritual companionship and ministry with you. Review for Religious remains a unique journal in the English-speaking world for our continuing educa-tion, formation, and inspiration in living the rich Catholic legacies that form our church spirituality. I hope that you, our readers, share in our appreciation and enthusiasm. "To all that shall be-- Yes!" allows plenty of room for our best efforts. David L. Fleming SJ Januaty-Februa~y 2000 MICHAEL HIMES Returning to Our Ancestral Lands feature I am a little more daunted than I usually am because you are vicars for religious and you bring me in, a dioce-san priest, to talk to you. I can plead two things. One, I lived, during my happy years at the University of Notre Dame, at Moreau Seminary in the company and with the hospitality of the Congregation of Holy Cross and came to have the greatest affection and respect for them. I am now living and working with the Society of Jesus at Boston College and have the greatest respect for the Society of Jesus. My brother, and sometime col-league, is a Franciscan. And so, though I am not a reli-gious, I shared a bedroom for years with a religious, my brother Ken. Besides these attachments to and connections with religious communities, I plead that your having a pas-sionate outside observer may be useful. That is what I come to you as--a concerned, passionate, outside Michael J. Himes, a priest of the Diocese of Brooklyn and formerly on the faculties of the University of Notre Dame and of the Seminary of the hnmaculate Conception (Huntington, New York), is currently a professor of theol-ogy at Boston College. He presented this paper (here some-what revised) in March 1999 at the 32nd assembly of the National Conference of Vicars for Religious, in whose 1999 Proceedings it was originally published. His address is Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02467. Review for Religio us observer of religious life in the church. I am going to talk with you from the perspective of history. My field is the history of Christianity, with a particular interest in ecclesiology. I am going to be looking at both the history of religious life in the church and at its connection with the mission of the church at large. I took my title from Leviticus. The passage in Leviticus on the jubilee year says to mark the jubilee year by returning to our ancestral lands. In Leviticus the reason for doing this is appar-ently that, because every clan, every group, in Israel's history is of importance in God's plan and in the working out of the covenant, no family, no clan, should be allowed to disappear from the land of Israel. And so, if a clan or family gave up its land, within fifty years it would get it back again. I suggest that some of those same themes are true of religious life in the church today. There are too many important, vital, necessary experiences, images, sources of wisdom which have grown up in religious life in the Western church over the course of fifteen centuries to allow them to be lost to the life of the church. We need to go back periodically and reclaim those ances-tral lands, To do that, I want to discuss three issues--and so there will be three parts. Part One: I want to say something about the nature and pur-pose of religious life in the Catholic tradition, but I want to say it from a somewhat unusual perspective. I will explain what that is in just a moment. Part Two: I am going to offer you a thumbnail history--and it is very thumbnail history--of the development of religious life in the Western church. There is quite a distinct history to the development of religious life in the Eastern church, but up to the present moment in the Western church, I suggest, there have been three central moments in the development of religious life. We may be at the end of number three and the start of number four. In Part Three I am going to make some observations about what can be done to reclaim ancestral lands. How do you reclaim values without trying to resuscitate forms? How do you reclaim the value without saying we have got to replicate the history? Nature and Purpose of Vowed Life Let me say something about the nature and purpose of reli-gious life--of vowed life within the Christian community and espe- January-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands cially within the Catholic tradition--from a somewhat unusual perspective. That perspective I take from an immensely productive, distinguished, and influential figure in Protestant theology and philosophy of religion at the beginning of the century that is now ending--a man named Ernst Troeltsch, who died back in 1923. Before the First World War, Troeltsch produced his masterpiece, a thick volume titled The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches. The tide may be misleading to us. You may say to yourself, "All this is well and good, but I do not see what bearing it has on the topic." Let me explain. Just when you least expect it, over the hill will come the topic. Just at the point that you have given up hope of ever hearing anything relevant to your interest, lo and behold, it will make its appearance. Today, when we hear a title like The Social Teaching of the Christian Churches, we might expect that it is going to be about what we have come to call social teaching, namely, the teaching of the Christian community about the nature of political and eco-nomic justice within society. That is not what Troeltsch meant by his title. By the Christian churches' social teaching, Troeltsch meant what they taught about tl~eir own natures as societies. I mean, here you have different communities, different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. How did these various Christian societies explain themselves? What is their teaching about their own nature as a society? To trace the development of how different church communities and traditions in the history of the Christian tradition have structured themselves as churches, as communities, Troeltsch approached it in a very interesting and important way. He bor-rowed an idea from a colleague of his at Heidelberg, where he was teaching at the time: one of the great fathers that you may very well know if you have an interest in sociology, Max Weber. Troeltsch borrowed from him the notion of an ideal type. Weber's ideal type means this: You explicate different ways, different models of how a community could be organized with-out reference to any concrete existing community. Then you look at the existing communities--at the actual communities as you find them--and ask: Which of these communities is like type one? Which is like type two? Which is like three? He found this to be a particularly fruitful way of getting people" to look at com-munities and raise questions about them which they might not ordinarily raise. Review for Religious Well, Troeltsch took that notion of an ideal type and sug-gested two ideal types as ways of digging in, as tools for analyzing how different Christian communities have understood their own role, how they structured themselves. Those two ideal types he refers to as church and sect. Sect, let me emphasize, is for Troeltsch by no means a bad word. For us today in America it has come to have all sorts of bad connotations. He means none of those connotations. By sect, Troeltsch means a community of people who come together in fidelity to their under-standing of the gospel, who are united first of all by a powerful, dramatic, and deeply personal experience of conver-sion. So, for Troeltsch, one of the hall-marks of a sect type of community is (1) that all of its members are people who have personally experienced some deep and often strikingly dramatic con-version experience. You have to experi-ence being born again into Christ. You must personally "accept Jesus as your Savior," to use language that is familiar to us from some sect types of community in this country. Another hallmark is (2) that these communities see themselves as peculiarly and specially commissioned communities. There is a vibrant sense of mission. There is a kind of urgency about the fact that you have been called, you have been chosen, you have been commissioned to perform an extremely important work in the name of the gospel. So there is a striking and urgent sense of mis-sion in a sect community. Often a sect community (3) sees itself in terms of being over against the larger community. You are the people who have been called upon; you have been set up as a city on a hilltop, as a light for all the world. You are commissioned in a way that is not true of the community-at-large. You may be called to serve them, but you are different in some way from that larger community, and there should be a clear difference between you and that larger community. The sect community (4) is frequently radical in its vision of what needs to be done in the larger community. That is, it takes positions which the larger community may find to be too diffi-cult, too dangerous, too uncomfortable, too impractical. The Different societies of Christians that have come together and organized themselves in very different ways. Janual~-FebruatTy 2000 --10A Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands smaller sect community can advocate radical reform and radical movement. The problem with the sect community, however, as Troeltsch points out, is that it seldom survives beyond the second or at most third generation because the first generation (who have had this striking, personal experience) cannot guarantee that their chil-dren's or their grandchildren's generation is going to have that same striking experience. Very often, then, the sect begins to evap-orate or split up in various ways. My favorite image for that may be seen in one of Flannery O'Connor's letters. She has a wonderful description of why she liked to travel in the south on local trains, trains that made every stop. She said you could always, back in the 1940s and 1950s, see such interesting things. She says: "Why, you stop at one little town and you look out the window and there's a white clapboard church. And out in front of the church is a sign that says 'First Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save All People Who are Faithful to Him and Moved by the Holy Spirit.' The train goes five miles down and stops at the next little town, and there is a white clapboard church with a sign in front of it that says, 'Church of Jesus Christ, Lord and Savior of the World and of All Humanity, Coming Again in Glory to Save the Living and the Dead and MI Those Who are Faithful to the Gospel and Motivated by the Holy Spirit, Reformed.'" And she said, "You knew there was a history here somewhere even though you could not tell quite what it was." There's a tendency for sect communities to splinter or to evaporate. By contrast to the sect community, the church-style community is a community that (1) sees itself as incorporating all sorts of peo-ple into the Christian community. It does not claim that all of its members are equally, highly, or deeply motivated--depending on your point of view. It does not claim that all of its members have striking personal experiences. It allows for the fact that there are different levels of membership, not official membership perhaps, but in terms of involvement in the community. Not everyone is at every moment of her or his life equally fervent or actively engaged in the life of the church. A church (2) does not see itself as necessarily over against the world. There are all sorts of things in the world-at-large that the church wants to embrace and celebrate. You cannot imagine, for example, says Troeltsch, that a sect is necessarily going to embrace Review for Religious the world of the arts and sciences, whereas the church commu-nity will. It embraces the artistic values and the scientific hopes and dreams and goals and methods of a community at any given time. In comparison with a sect, there is a much greater sense of collaboration between people in the church and people outside it. It tries to build bridges. It is a community, therefore, that is much more stable than a sect community. You can be born into a church community; you have to be reborn into a sect community. The idea, for example, of an infant baptism or an infant initiation into a sect would be simply impossible, whereas it is perfectly possible for a church community. The church community sees itself as a process of lifelong nur-ture, whereas the sect community emphasizes radical, dramatic conversion experiences. The danger for church-style community, says Troeltsch, is of course that it can become too secular, it can end up being, as it were, a tool for social stability used by the soci-ety- at-large. Notice that he is not claiming one is better than another; he is setting up--and I am just giving a thumbnail sketch--he is setting up two types of community that he can use as tools with which to examine the history of various church communities. He wants to ask: What is this like? Is it more like a sect? Is it more like a church? In what ways is it like a sect? In what ways is it like a church? Now, why do I propose to you that this is an interesting way to think about religious life? Because Troeltsch makes, almost in passing, one of the most suggestive comments that I have ever seen about religious life in the Catholic tradition. The Catholic Church--certainly back in the first decade of this century when he was looking at it from his own vantage point--is one of the purest church types of organization. He says, however, that the Catholic community has had for many centuries a peculiar and brilliant way of incorporating into itself the most vital, most insightful, most valuable elements of sects that grow up within the ambit of the Catholic community. It makes them religious orders. I suggest to you that--if you think of a community gathering around Anthony in the desert, gathering around Benedict or Scholastica, gathering around Francis and Clare, gathering around Dominic or Ignatius Loyola--you certainly can see those groups as matching up very closely with what Troeltsch has to say about sect communities. You cannot be born into these groups, you have Janua~. -Feb~wa(y 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands got to choose to join. It is a matter of discerning a vocational call. There is a radical break with a previous kind of life in order to enter one of these groups. They are marked by clear and certain images of what mission is and what goal is, and how you shape people to accomplish that goal. The goal includes seeing this com-munity as being very much over against the community-at-large. The group is not simply part of this world, and it is marked as not being part of this world by a kind of rejection of this world's dom-inant values. The danger here is that, if the group is not in some way stabilized by the structure of a church, it can melt away in two or three generations. Troeltsch, of course, pointed out the other danger too. The problem for the Catholic tradition is that, although the church model stabilizes the sect model by "turning sects into religious orders," in Troeltsch's phrase, it can suddenly turn the religious order into simply another branch of the church model--and thus lose the vibrancy of the sect model. I suggest that, if we are going to reclaim ancestral lands, one of the things we have to do is look to vital religious communities to be sects in the Troeltschian sense of sects. We have to look for communities of people who see themselves as personally called, called to a clear and decided mission, and who see themselves as in some way in contrast to the community around them, even in contrast to the church-at-large around them. Now, for how that happens, let me move to Part Two. Some History of the Development of Church Life I would like to make a hundred thousand qualifications, but, so that you can go to bed tonight, let me just give a very general description. I suggest to you that, up to the present moment, there are three stages to the history of religious life in the Western church. The first stage in the Western church--quite apart from the origins in Egypt and Syria and Asia Minor in the East--runs for about seven hundred years, from the middle of the 5th century to the middle of the 12 th century, roughly from A.D. 450 to 1150. If we are looking for an example of that first period, it is the Benedictine movement. What is religious life? Religious life for those first seven hundred years of the Western church is first and foremost a community of persons who have come together and Review for Religious pledged themselves to a life of poverty, a life of celibacy, a life of prayer and contemplation done in community. Why is it so important that it be done in community? Well, there are two versions of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony of Egypt. We do not know which is the real one--whether the shorter one is due to somebody's cutting it down after Athanasius died or whether the longer one includes stuff that somebody added after his death. But the longer one, whoever wrote it, has a striking comment. It says: "Anthony went out to the desert to lead a life of radical devo-tion, deep prayer, and obvious poverty, and in doing so he became a source of wonder. But, when a community of others gathered around him, then he became a sign." That is a very perceptive comment. Living out your life in a radical gospel way makes you a source of astonishment, but what validates you as a sign to the church is that you can do this in a community. Let me put this another way (much less eloquently than the author of the longer life of Anthony does): It is possible to be poor, chaste, obedient, and nuts. We all know that. What guarantees that you are poor, chaste, obedient, and sane? Your ability to live with other people without either killing them or being killed by them. The community is what validates the vows. So this idea of living in community is very important and was very important in the Benedictine tradition from its outset. Clearly there are multiple variants of the monastic ideal throughout those seven hundred years, but that is the image of religious life that dominates the first stage. What is religious life? It is a community of people who come together to live lives of poverty, of celibacy, of devotion and prayer and contempla-tion- and often study too--and who do it in community. That is religious life. That reality has something brand-new added to it in the middle of the 12th century, and for a very practical reason. A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. One of the things that marked the end of the ancient world was the collapse of cities in Western Europe. In the early Middle Ages, society is essentially rural, A whole new class of people emerges in Western Europe in the 12th century: the urban poor. Janualy-February 2000 2 Himes ¯ Returnin~ to Our Ancestral Lands largely agricultural. There are no great cities for very obvious reasons: the barbarians. Let me remind you here, when we talk about the barbarians, not to picture Jack Palance with a mustache and a horned helmet swooping down to burn and pillage cities! That may have hap-pened along the way too, but, when we talk about the barbar-ians, all of us who are English, Irish, Welsh, or Scottish, Scandinavian, German, Polish, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Belgian, Hungarian, Czech, Slovak, Sicilian, or northern Italian (from anywhere in Europe but a little piece of land stretch-ing from Naples to just north of Rome)--when we talk about the barbarians we are ta!king about grandma and grandpa. The bar-barians are our ancestors. As they moved into Western Europe, as the empire collapsed, these ancestors of many of us were not stupid. They knew stuff. They knew it takes a lot out of you to burn and pillage. A really good pillage takes a lot of energy. You are not going to waste your time burning and pillaging little one-horse towns. You are going to burn and pillage big cites--that is where the loot is to be got-ten. Since the inhabitants of the Roman empire in its last days were not stupid either, they quickly realized it is much safer living in the little towns than in the big cities: you are less likely to get sacked and pillaged. So, at the end of the ancient world, all over Europe, there is a sort of massive flight to the suburbs. Cities decline, lots of small towns spring up. In that world, how did the church care for people? Well, it was not a money economy. If you were going to found a parish, you were not going to do it with cash. Cash did not mean any-thing in the Middle Ages. Value was in land: it was the land's produce that could support a parish. So some wealthy donor says, "In this town I am giving this field to support the church. It can support two priests so that they can minister to the needs of the people of the town." The problem is, of course, that land is not easily transferable. At the start of the High Middle Ages, from around 1050 on, small towns began to decline in population as people moved back into big cities. In towns where once there were a hundred house-holds, now there were twenty, but there still were two priests for those twenty. Other towns were growing as centers. Where there used to be a hundred households, there were now five thousand households, but there was still only one priest, who was supported Review for Religious by the land donation from centuries before for that town. It is not easy to adjust parish boundaries and clergy resources. So there were growing numbers of people in the major cities of Western Europe who were largely unchurched. Nobody was preaching to them, nobody was teaching them, nobody was lead-ing them into the Gospels, nobody was celebrating sacraments for them. Who was going to tend to these people's needs? New reli-gious communities appeared, communities dedicated above every-thing else to the service of the urban poor. What do they need? Do they need evangelization? We preach. Do they need teaching? We teach. Do they need nursing? We nurse. Whatever they need, that is what we provide. If Benedict and Scholastica are the obvious figures of the first stage, Francis, Clare, and Dominic are the great figures at the start of the second stage, approximately I 150 to 1550. In the course of the Catholic reformation, both prior to and as a response to the Protestant reformers, the church realized that it was going to have to do much better regarding the challenges of a new world. One of the reasons that Luther had such an immense impact--besides the fact that he was immensely insightful--is that he wrote well. He wrote in German and, with the printing press available, turned out lots and lots of copies of relatively short books in the vernacular. Why was it that people like Cajetan and Eck did not have much luck responding to Luther? Because they were turning out thick books, in double columns, in Latin. Nobody was going to read them, even other professors, and so Luther had an impact, whereas initially much of the Catholic response did not. For this third stage we needed a new way to respond to people's needs. Although nobody calls it this, one of the ways was, in effect, the division of l~bor. What we needed was to streamline our styles of pastoral ministry. Instead of communities of people doing what-ever was needed, we were now going to have communities of peo-ple, both women and men, who specialized. We taught young women, we taught young men. We went to the foreign missions. We did nursing. We took care of the elderly. It became clear that different communities had unique apostolates. That model--and I think one can take the Jesuit~ as in many ways the example of this third stage, the embodiment of it--has lasted with great power and great success right down into our own lifetimes. Let me point out something that pertains ~o both the second and the third stages. Something enormously important shifted in Janua~:y-February 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands the course of the 12th century and, after more than eight hun-dred years, is still decisive for today's religious communities. It still affects what members do: we do this ministry to the urban poor. We do this particular kind of ministry for those who "need" it. What does this presuppose? It presupposes the situation during the second and third stages of Western religious life; it presup-poses people in need. It presupposes a world, and a church, in which the laity were essentially passive. Who was going to do the teach-ing, the preaching, the nursing, the caring, the evangelizing? It was going to be people in religious vows. The simply baptized members of the church--they were the recipients of ministry, they were not people who ministered themselves. An enormous shift happened when Vatican Council II called for a truly alive, energized, and ministerially responsible laity. Because of that shift, inevitably there was going to be some sort of identity crisis for religious life. If what makes me a religious is that I am one of group of people who perform such and such a ministry, and if nowadays other people who are not in vowed life, who are not celibate, and who are not living in community are doing the same ministry that I am doing, then what makes me a religious? Previously the identity of the religious--and I could make a similar case regarding the clergy--has been: "We are the people who do x, Y, and Z, and the laity are the people who have x, ¥, and Z done for them." The laity have been essentially passive recipients of ministry. The moment one begins to talk about the church as a community of people all of whom are called to some kind of ministry by baptism .(and not primarily by religious pro-fession or ordination), then everything shifts. That is why I suggest that we are at the end of the third stage and the beginning of a fourth stage. What does the fourth stage look like? Well, I have not a clu& Actually I may have a clue, but it is nothing more than a clue. Let me hasten to say that one of the occupational hazards of people who pretend to know something about the past is to think that they know everything about the future. With that caution in mind, I speak now with a good deal of self-suspicion, and you should hear it with even more suspicion. It is at least possible that a mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church--it may look more like the first stage than like stage two or three--is that there is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. That, perhaps, is Review for Religious the characteristic of the next stage of religious life. If that proves true, then a category that may be helpful for religious to consider more deeply and theologically is sacramentality. I am not referring to the great seven public and communal sacraments. I mean the much wider and in many ways much richer notion of sacrament, with a small s. And what is that sacrament called? What does sacramentality consist in? I give you Himes's handy-dandy definition of the sacra-mental principle. I have given it often, and it seems true. (After I hear myself say something long enough, it seems to me that it is true!) The definition of the sacramental principle is, I think, this: Whatever is always and every-where true must be noticed, accepted, and celebrated somewhere, sometime. Those things which are always true, those things which are constantly present to us, are almost always ignored. You do not pay attention to the oxygen in a room until it starts t6 go stale. While you have been reading this, you have surely been blinking periodically. Unless you have found my words altogether boring, you have not been counting your blinks. A couple of years ago ] got hit with a bout of Bell's palsy. I could not move anything on the left side of my face, and I could not blink. Throughout the day I had to periodically pull and hold my eyelid down, and tape it down at night. You become very aware of blinking when you cannot do it. When you can do it, when it takes care of itself, you do not pay any attention to it. In order to accept something that is there all the time and make it effectively present, to us, we have to learn to attend to it, to say yes to it, and to celebrate it. What is omnipresent to us? Well, God is: the self-giving of God. That self-giving of God we call, with the benefit of theological shorthand, grace: the self-gift of God's Trinitarian life outside the Trinity itself. It is everywhere. The whole world is just dripping with it; the whole thing is satu- A mark of the next great stage of development of religious life in the Western church is a recentering on the nature of living vowed life in community rather than on any apostolate or mission of ours. Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands rated with grace. But, precisely because that is true, it can be ignored. What is always present is seldom noticed. Whatever calls you, whatever person, place, thing, whatever sight, sound, taste, touch, smell, whatever experience leads you to he aware of, to attend to the reality of God's self-offering to you at that moment, to be able to say yes to it and to rejoice in it-- that is a sacra-ment. All told, how many sacraments are there in the world? How many things are there in the universe! That is what I mean by sacramentality. In that sense of the word--and this is where I am going to pick up the theme from Troeltsch in Part One--in that sense, religious life is a sacramental state within the church. We do not recognize that this is a sacramental state the way we recognize marriage as a sacramental state within the church. But it is in fact sacramental because, after all, religious are called to a deep sense of poverty, to a deep sense of responsibility toward and obedi-ence to the needs of those around us, to a responsible use of celibacy that recognizes our dependency on one another and on God. Is there anything there that everyone in the church is not called to by baptism? Why, then, do we need religious life so much? Because religious life "clearly, strikingly, astonishingly" (in the words of St. Athanasius's Life of Anthony) leads the church to see what the whole church is called to by baptism, to see it clearly and strikingly in a public and communal embodiment that helps people toward realization. Sacramentality is something that may be crucial for everyone's lively understanding of whht religious life is about and what its relationship to the church-at-large is and can be. How to Be More Sacramentally Aware How do you enliven this sense of sacramentality without repli-cating past forms? How do you rescue age-old values? How do you reclaim ancestral lands without simply going back to old build-ings or forms or structures? What can be done? I begin with a perceptive definition I learned from Jaroslav Pelikan, the distinguished historical theologian recently retired from Yale University. In his Jefferson Lectures at the University of Virginia a few years ago, he said: "We must be very careful to dis-tinguish between tradition ahd traditionalism. Tradition is the liv-ing faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living." Review for Religious One is the continuing, living, vital faith that energized those who have gone before us; that is tradition. Traditionalism is faith main-tained by some among us that in fact is already ossified, entombed, embalmed; there is nothing left in it that is energizing. It is the dead faith of the living. How do we begin to reclaim the living faith of our ancestors? I know that this is going on in religious communities at this moment; it has gone on for a good deal of time. But I urge that it continue, and continue precisely in terms of sacramentality. How do we reflect on the meaning of the vows again? Is it possible that the fourth stage of religious life in the Western church into which I believe we are entering is more like religious life in the first stage than the second or third? As a word of preface, let me say that I have thought about this a good deal. Though I am not a religious, I do share with you a vow of obedience and I do share with you a vow of celibacy. I do not share with you living in community, although in fact I have lived in community. My brother Ken lives in a community of Franciscans with only six other people, and I lived in a house at the seminary in Huntington with fourteen other priests and sixty-five seminarians. I used to tell him: "You became a Franciscan and live in a rectory. I become a diocesan priest and live in a monastery." It is wonderful how God moves things around! The thing that has led me to think about this most is the vow I do not have, the vow of poverty. I find that the things I have vowed are not something I have to think about. I know what obe-dience means. The bishop calls me up and says, "I want to see you about doing x, Y, and Z." And I. say, "Okay, bishop, let me come and talk with you." There is'a structure to that. I do not have to get up in the morning and think: What does it mean to be obedi-ent today? That is taken care of. I do not have to think about what it is to be celibate. I know what means: that is taken care of. There is a structure to that too. What is not structured for me is poverty, and so it is a real problem. What does it mean for me as a university professor to talk Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. Januat3~-Febrtta~y 2000 Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands about poverty when I do not have a vow of poverty? How, then, as a baptized member of the Body of Christ, do I incorporate poverty? That is a big issue, and I have thought about it. This is my pref-ace to what I am now going to say about the three vows. Much as been written about poverty in recent years that is very powerful, but it is useful rhetorically more than actually real. It assumes that poverty is about identification with the poor--I am convinced that it is not. I expect some people to say "Oh, but it is.t" I wish it were, but I do not think so. My reason is this: There is an enormous difference between my deciding "I will not eat today" and actually having nothing to eat. If I decide not to eat (even though there are tons of food in tt(e refrigerator) because I want to identify with the poor by going to bed tonight with an empty stomach, I am forgetting something. For me there will be break-fast tomorrow morning, but overnight the poor are thinking: "I would love to have eaten today and I couldn't, and God knows whether I will get anything to eat tomorrow morning." These are simply totally different experiences, and I think it is nothing but self-serving romanticism to say, "Isn't it wonderful that we have identified with the poor!" I think that is just false, and I think it is dangerously false because it is overly romantic. 20 What Is Poverty? I turn to my brother's tradition. Who is the wisest one to have talked about poverty in the Western church? Francis of Assisi. Nobody is wiser on it than Francis. And I suggest that what Francis saw is very much in a line that starts with Augustine. But Francis saw its implications in brand-new ways. What is the most famous line from Augustine? What line does everybody know from St. Augustine? "You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You." (A pastor in a diocese not far from here famously used to get up on any saint's feast and say, "Ah, today we remember St. Cuthbert of Auxerre, who is famous for that wonderful statement of his, 'You made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless . '" According to this pastor, every saint had said it--or must have said it.) Well, what is Augustine saying? He is saying that all crea-tures- not just all human beings, please notice, but all creatures-- have one deep characteristic. That was what Francis saw so clearly. That deep characteristic is this: At our core, at our heart, we are Review for Religious empty. There is hunger, there is restlessness. The characteristic human experience is "Yeah, yeah, yeah, but more!" You have never known a human being who did not want more. The totally satis-fied, totally fulfilled human being is dead. If you want to see a totally filled human being, drop into your local cemetery. The fact is that what marks us as human beings is endless restlessness, end-less hunger--more, more, more, more, more. I say sometimes to students: "If somebody you know ever says, 'I have everything, I am everything, I know everything, I have experienced everything that I could possibly want, I am perfectly and totally satisfied,' ask the person this: 'Would you like it to last?'" If you had everything, what you would want is more time. There is never a moment when we do not want. That is the characteristic of being a creature. This is what Francis saw and recognized as uniting us with all of creation. That is what Francis saw in the mystical marriage with Lady Poverty, and it is what motivates the Canticle of the Sun. V~y is it Brother Sun and Sister Moon? VVhat is it that makes the moon and the sun, earth and water and air and fire, what makes everything my brother and sister? The fact that we all are marked by one great family resemblance: we are all poor. We did not make ourselves. We are all ultimately dependent. Nobody is fulfilled. If that is true, then poverty is what unites us with all other creatures. If that is so, then I suggest that poverty is the key value in the vows. My own reading of the relationship of the vows is that there are not three. There is one, and two further explications. The cen-tral vow is poverty. Celibacy and obedience are ways of being poor. But poverty is the central one. And the point about poverty is: It is not a social condition first of all, it is not an economic condition first of all. First of all, it is metaphysical; it is what makes you you. To embrace poverty publicly is to embrace, publicly, being a human being. Being poor is being human publicly. It is to embrace the human condition. It is to recognize that there are radical limits on me, limits of time, ultimately. A time is going to come when I will breathe out and think "Gee, I'd like to breathe in"--and it will not happen. There is going to come a time when I will say, "I would like just to get to tomorrow morning," and there will not be time for me to get there. There are limitations on time, there are limitations on energy, there are limitations on strength, there are limitations on courage, there are limitations on wisdom, there are limitations on knowledge. Ultimately I have to look at that and say, "And it is a good thing! I embrace it." Poverty is central. Januao,-Februa~y 2000 '-3! Himes ¯ Returning to Our Ancestral Lands Celibacy is a way of saying that very publicly. I told you that I think there is an overly romantic element in much that has been said about poverty in recent years. I think a huge amount of fatu-ous slop has been written about celibacy. I think that much of what has been done on celibacy in recent years is the most patent non-sense. We have all sorts of stuff saying it is perfectly possible to be celibate and a completely fulfilled and happy man or woman. Junk! The fact is that 99.999 percent of the human race has found, does find, and presumably always will find that the most significant relationship in their lives is being someone's spouse and someone's parent. If I come along and say: "Well, I am no one's spouse and I am no one's parent, and it does not matter a hill of beans. I am just as happy as can be. I am just as fulfilled as you can get. What 99.999 percent of the human race thinks is so important really is not important at all"--well, that is arrogance, stupid arrogance. The whole point of celibacy is, of course, that you are unfulfilled. But, if you can be publicly unfulfilled and still be an intelligent, free, responsible, loving, brave, wise, concerned human being, then your life suggests that maybe "fulfillment" is not what human-ity is about. Your life is a public witness to the fact that unfulfill-ment is what is characteristic of being a human being. To go around saying "Oh, we're all fulfilled" is to make hash of the whole of the Franciscan tradition. It is to make nonsense of Augustine's restless heart. Manifestly the human race is unfulfilled, and so, when some-body says "Here I am, a publicly vowed celibate," he or she loudly proclaims: "I am unfulfilled, and that is okay. We are all unful-filled. I am just publicly noting the fact. I am a reminder, a clear picture, of the fact that you are as unfulfilled as I am. I am just publicly acknowledging that fact in a particularly striking way." The same thing is true with obedience. Obedience has nothing to do--or almost nothing--with the submission of one person's will to another person's will. That is anti-Christian thinking. The whole point of our relationship to the will of God is that I do not subject my will to God's will. I discover that God's will really is my will, that God's will is what undergirds my will. It is not a question of "Gee, I want this and God wants that and, by hook or by crook, I've got to pull myself around to want what God wants." That is a misunderstanding of God; that is a destructive picture of God. What does obedience mean? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. Obedience is, above everything else, a responsibility to what is: not what you would like, not what you had Review for Religious hoped, not what you wanted, not what you wished, not what you feared, but what is. I used to tell my students that, when you are talking about obedience to a superior, when you are talking about obedience to a bishop, the point is this: You are newly ordained and you get assigned to a parish. You are just the best thing that ever happened to kids. John Bosco looks like a piker. This is just the best thing that ever happened to teenagers. You are gung-ho to work with kids. It happens, however, that at the moment you are needed in this parish. There are not a lot of kids; younger fam-ilies have moved out; it is, in fact, a very elderly neighborhood. If you say, "Well, I just don't work with the elderly, I work with kids," you are being disobedient. You are not being disobedient to the bishop, you are not being disobedient to the pas-tor, you are being disobedient to facts. The fact is that these are the people who are here. You are the person on the spot--serve them! If you find yourself saying inside, "Well, you know, I am not really good at serving them," let yourself hear them saying "Yeah, I know. We've noticed." And then notice that you are the only one there. If the Titanic is going down and you are the nearest ship, do not say, "Well, you know, it would crowd breakfast so terribly to take on these other passengers." The ship is going down. Get over and save them! That is obedience to facts, and it is poverty. It is the recogni-tion that, hey, there are some things I am good at and some things I am not good at. Sometimes I am in positions where what I am not good at is what is most necessary. Then I have to give it my best even though it is clear that I am not going to do very well at it. I may also have the responsibility to say, "Somebody else in here might be a lot better at this than I am." But until that happens I am here, and I will get to work. That is real obedience. It is, once again, poverty. It is a recognition of the limitations of our histor-ical placement. I have been given this time and this place. I would have been just a knockout in the 18th century. In the 18th cen-tury I would have been just wonderful. But there was a problem: I was not begotten until the middle of the 20th century. So, no matter how great you would have been in the 18th century, you What does obedience mean ? Above everything else, it means poverty in the face of facts. January-February 2000 Himes * Returning to Our Ancestral Lands were not there. Likewise, you might be the best thing that could ever happen to the church of the 24th century. But, unless you have really good genes in your family, you are not going to be there. This is the only century you have; this is the one you bet-ter relate to even though it might not always be the one you wanted. That is the experience of poverty. Celibacy, obedience--both variants of poverty! Why is it so important that religious life seize that value of poverty and be a sign of it for the whole church? Because it is the experience of being a human being. It is the deepest truth about us as human beings. It is what the rest of us, in all sorts of ways, come to grips with or else try to hide from ourselves. Amid all these human beings, there should be communities of women and men who say in the strongest, clearest, and most striking way: "I, too, am poor, and it is good. This is what it is to be a human being." Now, how do you convey that truth to people? Well, it will he different from person to person, from community to com-munity, and from place to place. You cannot replicate the past. If you had known Dominic or Francis, Scholastica or Teresa of Avila, if you had known Ignatius or Vincent de Paul or Jane Frances Fr~myot de Chantal, perhaps they would have said, "I never had a disciple as good as this." But, you see, they never said that. You are not a contemporary of theirs; you are a con-temporary of mine. Francis of Assisi does not need you, but I do. So do not try to relate to Francis of Assisi or Jane Frances, but make a good attempt of getting to me. When, by retaining or recovering important values we "return to our ancestral lands," we are not thereby called to sow the ances-tral crops. Ancient lands can bear new crops, and new crops are needed for a new generation of people. I predict that, in the next fifty years, religious life is going to experience an explosion of growth. It may look different than we expect. Some older com-munities may die or merge--or meld into newer communities. Not every community will experience an explosion, but there will be an explosion of people living publicly vowed lives in community as sacramental signs to the rest of us of how the Christian tradition understands genuine humanity. I predict that sects, in Troeltsch's meaning, will be powerfully witnessing to the church so that the church is not allowed to become a hidebound and ossified insti-tution. This explosion will happen because the church could not survive without it--and we have the Lord's word that the church Review for Religious will survive. But I do not know how it will happen. The how ques-tion has never been the forte of the church, which, in its own poverty, only just manages to keep going. These observations are those of a passionate religious watcher. In some new ways, religious life will still be there in the future, for the church needs you. I have no doubt that, if only I could live thousand years longer, I could write a whopping good book about that future. Questions for Reflection and Discussion 1. What elements of religious life have been eclipsed in recent years and need to be reclaimed? 2. How do we reclaim values without retreating to past forms? 3. Where do our particular religious communities fit in the development of vowed life in the church's history? 4. How can we establish community in religious life when the community is not its own center? Blink I like to think of thegn sledding, graceful, flying down some swift hill, the white in their hair only snow, bright gloves flashing in the wind above the aluminum board not as this aged couple she scarved in purple, taking careful steps in ankle boots, clutching a brown grocery bag, he shuffling two steps ahead, the long cool silver ironing board tucked beneath his arm. Doretta Cornell RDC January-Februmy 2000 religious mission JOHN KLEIN Transforming Mission: A Spirit of Adventure On 22 March 1999 a headline appeared in the New York Times reading: "Voyage End Brings Crew Back Down to Earth." The article recounted the voyage of the first two balloonists to circle the globe, aboard Breitling Orbiter III. The trip lasted nineteen days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-five minutes and covered a total of 29,054.6 miles. During their news conference one of the adventurers, Dr. Bertrand Piccard, a Swiss psychiatrist, reflected upon their experience: "It was not a matter of setting records; it was a fabulous metaphor of life. To try is the only way to survive." His compatriot, Brian Jones, a former member of the British Air Force, added: "We are not heroes. We just proved that dreams could come true.m Later in the interview Dr. Piccard admitted that the journey posed significant risks, struggles, and sacrifices. Confined in their 16.5 foot-by-10 foot capsule, freezing cold, and often lack-ing water, the adventurers nearly abandoned their effort several times. Piccard said, "When one of us was about to give up, the other would support him." This Magellanesque journey offers us a fabulous metaphor for our lives as religious leaders. Like Piccard and Jones, we find ourselves on a journey demanding John Klein FMS gave this presidential address at the August 1999 assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM). His address is Marist High School; 1241 Kennedy Boulevard; Bayonne, New Jersey 07002. Review for Religious that we move beyond preconceived boundaries, one that forces us to tap into unsuspected personal and corporate resources, one that calls us to risk and trust and sometimes upset the status quo, one that invites us to dream of new possibilities and challenges, one that beckons us to move from the center to the margins. Religious leadership today is truly an adventure extending Jesus' mission to proclaim the kingdom and to make God known and loved. Mission is a description of Jesus, the Son of God, who invites us to be adventurers and dreamers with him. The daily realities of our work, however, do not permit us to escape being administrators, managers, fund-raisers, therapists, legal experts, and arbiters. Who has the time and the energy to dream and to participate in an adventure? How can we become "unstuck" and move forward the renewal of religious life? The church historian John W. O'Malley SJ has said, "It is more diffi-cult to reform a religious order than to found one.''2 Our expe-rience during the past thirty years certainly confirms this. Nonetheless, our role as leaders offers us a wonderful opportu-nity to influence and design the future, remembering that this project of religious life is God's work and not ours. With hope, like Jacob waking from his dream at Bethel, we can say of our time and our struggles, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it" (Gn 28:16). With confidence, like St. Paul in his Second Letter to Timothy (1:6-7), we can remind each other that "God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but rather a spirit of power and of love." It is in this spirit that we can face the future and set out on an adventure not of our design, but God's. John Gardner in his book Self-Renewal offers a sobering pre-diction if we opt to respond otherwise. He says: "If people are apathetic, defeated in spirit, or unable to imagine a future worth striving for, the game is lost.''3 We cannot lose this game. On the contrary, we need to see our present situation as opportunity. We need to articulate a high level of expectations for ourselves, the members of our congregations, and the institutions we own and sponsor. We are called to do this in a culture that does not share our values, but rather extols individualism, tends to privatize reli-gion, and fails to engender a true sense of community. Archbishop Rembert Weakland recently highlighted this challenge, asserting that "one of the most difficult pastoral tasks of our day., that has challenged the renewal at every turn is precisely how to overcome the cultural bias of our age toward the individualistic. ''4 Janumy-February 2000 Klein ¯ Tran~fomning Mission Our religious communities have not remained immune from these societal influences. On the contrary, society has tended to co-opt us and has led many religious to make private accommo-dations to religious life. This cripples our mission, diminishes a sense of esprit de corps and solidarity, and saps our energy and possibilities for the future. "The Nygren and Ukeritis study already warned that, despite their language of prophecy and sol-idarity with the poor, many religious in the United States may be far more accommodated and assimilated into the dominant cul-ture than they like to believe. The penchant for individualism and self-fulfillment so characteristic of this culture has found a ready berth in many religious communities. Self-determination has eroded communal and institutional commitments.''s Given this situation, how are we as religious leaders called to respond? I believe that we can discover the answer by reflecting on the example that Jesus provides us. The Letter to the Hebrews (12:2) refers to Jesus as the pioneer. He is the one who goes before us to offer the example and then returns to us to point the direction and to reassiire us that he is always present with us. Jesus is the adventurer calling us to join with him in mission and to fan the embers our commitment into a flame spreading new life and hope. Like us, Jesus found himself engaged in mission, searching for ways to engender new life, struggling and sometimes discour-aged with a disparate band of disciples, and confronting a society at best indifferent to his values and vision. How did he respond? What was and is Jesus' mission? How did he endeavor to foster new life? How did he pursue his mission and commitment? How did he accomplish the transformation of the lives of his disciples and the many others whom he touched as well? By probing these questions we will begin to perceive ourselves as part of a unique adventure that will transform our mission and foster new life. However, we do not probe the questions alone. This effort must be a collaborative and communal one. While we do not need everyone in our province or congregation to participate in this effort, we do need a "critical mass" of people to share the adventure. Only this will move our mission and our group for-ward. "What we dream alone remains just a dream, but what we dream with others can become a reality.''6 If we willingly dream together in faith, then our mission will be transformed and we will have the confidence that our best years are ahead of us. In all of Review for Religious our efforts together, Jesus, the pioneer, presents the lens through which we can discern our course of action and catch a glimpse of the religious life of the future. This is particularly true in three aspects of his mission that challenge us today: Jesus' deep spiri-tuality and relationship to his Father, his commitment to mis-sion at the margins of society, and, finally, his formation of an intentional community of disciples to carry his mission forward. Our following his response in these areas will, I believe, offer the compelling ways through which we will discover our unique role in society and the church. Jesus appreciated better than anyone that to be in close, intimate relationship with God inevitably makes people countercultural and dis-tinctive. It places them in a dangerous situation, making them as disciples part of a cultural minority. This minority cannot help seeing the world and society through different eyes, the eyes of Jesus. This vision encourages those who follow Jesus to choose new life by loving the Lord, our God, heeding his voice, and holding fast to him (Dt 30:15-20). Seeing reality this way meant new life for Jesus also, for his profound spirituality caused him to turn society's values on their head and, in the process, made him a dangerous person. We see this clearly in Jesus' table fellowship. He ate with scribes and Pharisees, with the poor and destitute, with tax col-lectors and sinners. By breaking boundaries, risking disapproval, and "imaging" the reality of God for the people of his time, Jesus made his mission, the proclamation of the kingdom, tangible. It was in food-and-drink situations that he revealed the divine gifts of joy (Mt 9:15), pardon (Lk 7:47), salvation (Lk 19:9), and super-abundance (Mr 14:15-2 I). It is at table that we witness the trans-forming conversion of Zacchaeus, Jesus' example of servant leadership, and the opening of the weary disciples' eyes at Emmaus. It is therefore primarily at his table, at his Eucharist, where we religious will find new life for our mission. It is at his table that we will encounter him through the lives of sinners and outcasts, our brothers and sisters, realizing that the margin is our home too. In his message for the World Day of Peace, Pope John Paul II exhorted us to "recognize Christ in the poorest and the most marginalized, those whom the Eucharist--which is communion What was and is Jesus' mission ? Janualy-Februaly 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission in the body and blood of Christ given up for us--commits us to serve. As the parable of the rich man, who will remain forever without a name, and the poor man called Lazarus clearly shows, 'in the stark contrast between the insensitive rich man and the poor in need of everything, God is on the latter's side.' We too must be on this same side.''7 The side of the poor and disenfran-chised is the side where the religious man and woman must be found. Whether or not we work directly with the poor, we can-not escape the imperative of seeing the world with the eyes of the poor. This attitude, then, will inform our prayer, our work, and our lifestyles. The Gospel of Luke reminds us that the sign that Jesus is "the one who is to come" is that the poor are having the Good News proclaimed to them. In this Jesus gave flesh to his kingdom and illustrated that the reign of God is now. Our mission as reli-gious leaders represents the continuing participation in his incar-nation. Our mission calls us to illustrate that economic and social boundaries are artificial, made by human hands. Our mission proclaims that, if "we truly want to see the glory of God, we must move downward with Jesus. This is the deepest reason for living in solidarity with poor, oppressed, and handicapped people. They are the ones through whom God's glory can manifest itself to us. They show us the way to God, the way to salvation.''8 To ignore the sorrows and needs of others is to ignore the flesh of Jesus and to deny the incarnation. For us to make the "option for the poor" a reality will mean a conversion of mind and heart. It is a conversion that will find its source in prayer, reflection, and Eucharist. It is a conversion that demonstrates itself through simplicity of lifestyle and sensi-tivity to those less fortunate than we. Too often we have claimed the adjectives prophetic and countercultural for ourselves. It would be far better that others attribute them to us after seeing the way we live and work and pray. They will do so if we make certain that our rhetoric and our reality coincide and that our lifestyles reflect charism rather than just personal choices. Johann Baptist Metz once wrote that "religious orders are a kind of shock therapy. ¯ for the church as a whole. Against the dangerous accommoda-tions and questionable compromises that the church . . . can always incline to, they press for the uncompromising nature of the gospel and the imitation of Christ. In this sense they ire the insti-tutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the church.''9 Review for Religious Our mission today is to be dangerous as Jesus was and to make Metz's description of us real. This mission is by its very nature a communal one, and I believe that new life for the mission of Christ will be found, not necessarily in endeavoring to enliven already existing local com-munities, but rather in forming new intentional communities within our groups. In addressing the obstacles to refounding a religious community, Gerald Arbuclde acknowledged that efforts to "move" or "change" a group inevitably encounter significant resistance. Hence, he says, "The new belongs elsewhere." These communities, similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples, have mission at their center and heart. Mission conse-quently operates as their chief source of connectedness and energy. Members of an intentional community realize that they cannot minister to others outside unless they live in a community founded on inter-dependence and a mutuality informed by faith. This faith life sensitively balances the needs of the community and those of each individual and finds sharing of faith to be indispensable to its life. This inevitably leads to a high level of trust that allows mem-bers to challenge one another's behavior in light of a commonly accepted vision and goal. While these intentional communities meet some of the emotional, social, and intellectual needs of its members, they are in no way therapeutic support centers. An intentional community is "a group of religious living together who feel the need to be supported in their ministries and willingly commit themselves to develop a gospel-centered intimacy to be expressed in shared faith, ongoing conversation, and shared action."1° In short, an intentional community is one that has a clear and visible and easily identifiable way of life. Such a group offers the world what it does not find elsewhere: a community of faith, friendship, and mutual support engaged in an adventure larger than itself. In writing about his hopes for Dominican communities, Timothy Radcliffe OP, the master general, highlighted the impor-tance of such communities for the future of religious life. These groups, he maintained, carry within themselves seeds of new life. Communities similar to the one Jesus formed with his disciples have mission at their center and heart. January-Februaty 2000 Klein ¯ Transforming Mission "Unless a province plans the building of such communities, then it dies. A province with three communities where the brethren flourish in their Dominican life has a future, with the grace of God. A province with twenty communities where we just survive may well have none." it To say the least, we religious at the threshold of the new mil-lennium face significant challenges as we participate in Jesus' adventure. Allowing God to transform our mission and ourselves will not be a process devoid of risk and some pain. Nonetheless, to do otherwise would rob our religious families of the new life necessary to bring them into the future and, as a result, would put at risk our contribution to the mission of Christ. In the conclu-sion of Vita consecrata, the Holy Father asserts that religious "have not only a glorious history to remember and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished! Look to the future, where the Spirit is sending you in order to do even greater things" (VC §110). A real test of our faith and gospel hope is our belief in the truth of John Paul's words. Martin Heidegger once compared the journey of life to a person walking in a huge forest where it is pitch dark, where it is raining and thundering, and one has completely lost the way. There is a bolt of lightning and for an instant the way is clear. Then it is dark again. All one can and must do is keep going in the direction one saw illuminated by the lightning flash. This is our challenge and our opportunity: to keep going, to trust that God is faithful, to remember the way in the light of those key moments through which God intervenes in our lives. Most of our life we must move ahead in darkness, sustained in our faithfulness by what we once glimpsed when, if only for an instant, everything was clear.12 Notes ~ New York Times, 22 March 1999, p. 8. -' John W. O'Malley SJ, Tradition and Transition: H#torical Perspectives on Vatican II (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1989), p. 97. 3 Albert DiIanni SM, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994), p. 108. 4 Rembert Weakland OSB, "Liturgy and Common Ground," America 180, no. 5 (20 February 1999): 9. s Robert J. Schreiter, "Challenges and Directions of Religious Life at the Turn of the Millennium," Address given at the inauguration of the Center for the Study of Religious Life, 21 June 1998, p. 11. Review for Religious 6 Ronald Rolheiser OMI, "Religious Life in America Faces a Change of Epoch," paper prepared for the Inter-American Meeting in Toronto, May 1999, p. 13. 7 Pope John Paul II, "Message for the Celebration of the World Day of Peace," 1 January 1999, p. 21. s Robert A. Jonas, Henri Nouwen (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1998), p. 35. 9 Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, From Chaos to Mission: Refounding Religious Life Formation (Strathfield, N.S.W.: St. Paul's Publications, 1996), p. 11. ~0 Arbuclde, From Chaos to Mission, p. 15 I. " Timothy Radcliffe OP, Pastoral letter "The Promise of Life," 2 February 1999, p. 3. ~2 John Fullenbach, Prodaiming His Kingdom (Manila: Divine Word Publications, 1992), p. 190. The Joys of January Beautiful month of the cold, clean slate: nothing mars its pristine glare. Starlings stare, perched on empty limbs shaking in their purity. The air bears thoughts of ice. Wind cuts through whispers. Walls show us where twigs scrape messages: deliver words, deliver us: bend, blow beautifully, winter stems. Wake us. The dark recedes, we see our breath, a flickering. Light. Mary Kennan Herbert Janua~. -Febmtmy 2000 A. PAUL DOMINIC Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy Spurely, in the Indian experience, joy has not been a strong oint in religious life, in fact or in principle. This came to me as a rude shock twenty-odd years ago during a chat with a couple of sisters. As I was leaving their place, one of them made a particularly religious sort of request: "Father, will you please pray for vocations to our congregation?" I replied at once, though with some inner hesitation, "Why pray? If you are all happy, the girls will simply flock to you!" When I said this, I did not know I was echoing the mind of Pope Paul vI revealed in his 1971 apostolic exhortation Evangelica testificatio (§55). I must not have impressed them, for one of them said to me later, "But you must know we are religious!" Though that was not a recent event, attitudes of this type do not change in a single generation--though I would like to be proved wrong. Incidentally, the rumor of joyless religious life is not an exclusively Indian phenomenon: most of the religious con-gregations here have been transported from the West. Why, the very fact that a paper on consecrated life as anointed with joy was read in 1998 in San Antonio, Texas, at the annual confer-ence of vicars of religious implies that even modern American religious are not above the need of awakening to joy in their life of consecration.' A. Paul Dominic SJ last wrote for us in November-December 1995. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Review for Religiota This sad state of affairs in religious life is a reflection of Christianity in general, which has been accused of joylessness by both Westerners and Easterners. Nietzsche, for instance, has ridiculed the claim of Christians to have been saved by Christ. If it were really so, he argues, why could they not look joyful instead of appearing so remarkably gloomy? The Indian Shree Rajneesh, quite celebrated in his way, has been no less categorical in his attack on Christian attitudes. "Christians say that Jesus never laughed!" he alleges, and counters: "Now this seems to be the ulti-mate in stupidity. Jesus . never laughed? Then who else can laugh? . . They have made his picture very sad-looking, long-faced, burdened. This is not possible. This is utterly wrong.''2 All this non-Christian aspersion may well serve as a goad, particularly for us religious, to discover or rediscover the characteristic joy of Christ and enter into it (see Mt 25:21 and 23) and thus be evange-lized, that is, "gladdened by the good news" of our redemption. The Oil of Gladness It is heartening to observe that, in the biblical experience, there is a joyous anointing, besides several others. This joyous anointing is bestowed on the righteous king, that is, the king who loves justice, producing the pleasure of the people without seeking his own fortune (Ps 45:3-8). Who can this joyously anointed king be but him whose very name is Christ, meaning, of course, "the anointed one"? He is the one who, as no other, can witness to his joy in this fashion: "I was beside the master crafts-man, delighting him day after day, ever at play in his presence, at play everywhere on his earth, delighting to be with the children of men" (Pv 8:30-3 I). If, by virtue of baptismal consecration, every Christian shares in the life of the joyously anointed Christ, what may we conclude about those consecrated further by religious profession? Being anointed with the oil of gladness is no doubt a charism person-ally received; it is, however, not to be enjoyed as a private pos-session, but to be ever passed on for the surprise enjoyment of others. If religious are genuine enough, they will necessarily make their anointing evident, for the joyous enhancement of others. Leading lives of contagious joy" because their God is the joy of their never ending youth, they will liberate the masses from their oppressed lives and lead them into the same joy. January-Febrnary 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy All truly enlightened persons, whatever their religion, would share in this lofty, uplifting, and truly religious sentiment of theirs. People's innermost recesses would be affected, and there-fore the social fabric too. For instance, among the Hindu Tamil saints was Tayumanavar, who prayed out of the abundance of his holy joy: "That all should be happy is my one wish, Almighty One! This is the only thing I know!" The Christian ashrams here in India have, in proper inter-religious spirit, followed suit in earnest and have introduced, somewhere at the beginning of Lauds, the singing of the Sanskrit sloka "Lokah samasta sukhino bhavantu," which means "May all the world be happy!" This vision of joy, flowing to us from God and necessarily flowing to others from us, is certainly wonderful. How do we make this vision vivid to ourselves and transparent to others in a practicable, communicable way? The Religious Way of Joy The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life, basically and paradoxically, in its human and of course ecological dimension. There God will be available, not absent. For one thing, where joy is there will be no room for complaining. Complaining is a root of the atheist's mindset (see Ph 2:14-15). Habitually complaining persons construe everything as wrong, in sharp contrast to the divine intention exhibited in creation and providence (see Gn 1 and Mt 5:45), and so they can-not subscribe to any belief in God. Even if they claimed to believe, their belief would be the result of some psychological or religious conditioning and so only superficial, if not spurious. Rajneesh warns against such joyless nominal faith, advocat-ing an increasing enjoyment of life as the way to find God-given joy in ourselves. He says: Any small thing is full of God! So love this life . Eat, enjoy the food, and let God come to you as a taste. Listen to music, get lost in it, and let God come to you as sound ¯ . . as harmony. Let God descend on you slowly, without any hankering to catch hold of him . Just open yourself as much as possible--to the trees, to the birds, to the rains, to the sun, to the sands¯ Open yourself wherever you are; absorb, and gratitude will arise . And you will not know towards whom this gratitude is arising. When you don't know towards whom., it is towards God) Review for Religious Does this not read like a poetic rendition of the Contemplation to Attain love offered by St. Ignatius at the very climax of his Spiritual Exercises (§§230-237) to train people to find the joy of God no less outside their retreat than in it? Again, does this not evoke the following bold and originally controversial remark of St. Paul? "If I partake with thankfulness, why should I be denounced because of that for which I give thanks? So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:30-31; see also Col 3:16-17). Again, does this not read like an expository commentary on the praxis and pronouncements of Jesus? He, whose mission was to make known the heart of God to humanity, did not speak explicitly about God as much as he spoke about the happiness people longed for. He assured them that they were des-tined for joy, and, to prove it, he went about doing good for them in ever sur-prising ways. He fed them in their hunger without being asked, and he sat-isfied them. In that way he led them to discover for themselves that it was God who fed them to their heart's content. He healed them of their many illnesses and gladdened them and in that way enlightened them about how God meant them to be healthy and happy. His teaching was new precisely in proclaiming that they were at the threshold of an altogether new blessedness, thanks to the unique intervention God was initiating in humanity. He declared a new law, the law of beatitude (see Mt 5:1-10), for all, but particularly for the poor, that is, for those who longed for blessedness (see Lk 10:23-24). All this would have been offensive to people who abided by their fixed religious ways without, however, conspicu-ous happy living. To those who made much of fasting, for instance, he declared himself against it unless times and seasons made sense of it and demanded it. Indeed, he approved of feast-ing before fasting, gladly characterizing himself as one who came in the spirit of God's new time, eating, drinking, and partying in marked contrast to his predecessor, and not fighting shy of the The way to experience joy in God is, first and foremost, to enjoy our life in its human and of course ecological dimension. .~anualy-Februa~y 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy nicknames "glutton" and "drunkard" that some hurled at him. Because he found the joy of God in feasting in God's name, he could also, paradoxically, find the God of joy while abstaining from any feast. Is it not quite revelatory, when we come to think of it, that the word feast denotes both a lavish meal (as at a wed-ding) and a periodic religious observance? Christ was persuaded . that God himself was feasting, and so he would urge people undertaking a fast to present an appearance of joy (Mt 6:16-18). Whatever delightful stories of God he told had invariably the magic spell of joy in life. The stories suggest that only those who have known the joy of a wedding feast, or a bumper harvest, or an unexpected catch of fish, or giving birth to a child, or finding a lost coin or son, or stumbling on a treasure, or seeing and being a child, and so forth, could understand and delight in God. They as much as say that anyone who has known none of life's ordinary joys would be unable to know, let alone enjoy, God in their life-- even though God, as the source of all other joys, is a joy well above life's mundane joys. So Christ's call to joy was constant and compelling, encouraging us to be open to unnoticed joys around us and then to greater joy: Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? . . . Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? Therefore do no worry, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "What shall we drink?" or "What shall we wear?". Your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. (Mt 6:26-32) All who have known and enjoyed God thus in life will hope-fully carry this, their basic thrill of happiness, all through their life and will further develop their happy character through life's tasks, trials, and temptations. Anointing Others with Joy Like the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, the more we become what we are (namely, anointed with joy) by growing in the joy that abides in us from our looking at Jesus, the pioneer Review for Religious of our joy, the more we shall be able to anoint others with joy. Sensing this dynamic of joy, how does one move in this mission of joy (evangelization, translated literally)? Basic to any move in relation to others is openness to all so that all may have life. The joy within us, if genuine, will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make every-one welcome indiscriminately. This is what Christ did. He who said "Let the little children come to me" in an age when they counted for little had much the same attitude of welcome towards all, Jew or gentile or Samaritan, Pharisee or Sadducee or rogue, man or woman, young or old, high or low, rich or poor, clean or dirty, learned or illiterate, virtu-ous or sinful, and so forth, irrespec-tive of all segregations prevailing in his day. When he did make choices, however, it was doubtless towards the poor of all sorts, showing compas-sion for the multitude that was like sheep without a shepherd, saying that he had come for sinners, not the virtuous, and that the Spirit had anointed him to bring good news to the poor, to prisoners, the blind, and the oppressed. And so they, the poor masses, who Jesus sadly foretold are with us always (more glaringly now than ever before), have the greatest claim on our mission of joy. How do we set about this privileged mission? Thefirst move must be to initiate or maintain solidarity with people in their joyless situation, following the incarnation's prin-ciple of bringing joy to the world. We need to be one with them as far as possible. Ideally, of course, we should be so much one with them that nothing differentiates us from them in sur-rounding society. Meanwhile every attempt we make in this direc-tion will be an opening of joy to the unfortunates with whom we seek to share our own joy. During my turn as chaplain at a home for the aged, the day I began eating with them at their own table (something they had never seen before) was a matter of undreamt-of joy for them, far more beneficial than my liturgical or homiletic performance. The ontological principle actio in distans repugnat is no less sociological and evangelical. When Jesus sent his disciples The joy within us will be free from all conditioning by others and will contrive to make everyone welcome indiscriminately. January-February 2000 Dominic * Evangelization as Religious Mission of Joy on mission, what was he doing but bridging the gap between the teaching tribe and the taught? In his clear instruction to them to stay and eat happily with their hosts, what was he aiming at but their insertion into their very midst? When he himself was at home in the company of the sick and suffering and sinful, what was he exhibiting but his identification with their milieu? The second move must be to respond to the felt desires of those whom we have chosen to serve foremost in the promotion of joy. The Bible has as much to do with this as with the worship of God (see Is 58:6-10, Am 5:21-24, Mi 6:6-8). However much we may have identified with various persons, we may be mistaken about their drives and urges. That is why we have not had in great numbers the likes of St. Peter Claver and Blessed Katherine Drexel in the history of slavery, or of Bishop Romero and Corazon Aquino (once president of the Philippines) in the much delayed popular struggle, or of Little Sister Madeleine of Jesus and professor-turned-preacher Peter Reddy pitching their tents on the fringe of society.4 To work today toward a better future, it would on our part be best if we had people spell out their desires and then responded to them. Though at times Jesus' benefac-tions were a surprise to the beneficiaries of them, often he led people to be aware of their needs and then proceeded to respond to those needs, and bring joy (see Mk 10:46-52, Jn 4:4-42, Jn 5:1-9, even Mt 20:20-23). Besides this, he was quick to sense and fill the deeper spiritual needs they felt in spite of, or along with, their physical or social ones (as in the cases of Mary of Magdala and Joanna, Bartimaeus, Zacchaeus, the Samaritan outcast, and the Gerasene demoniac). Unlike him was the North American priest working in a South American parish who, to his dismay, discovered from his old cat-echist that his people, whom he had raised economically to a sat-isfactory level, were leaving him for a newfound evangelical pastor because they wanted to hear the glad news of the gospel. The third move in our mission will be, therefore, to lay bare the hidden needs of the spirit, at whatever level people may be, and to bring them to a higher level that engages their own inner resources. There is a time and reason for attending to and filling their mate-rial needs, and also for sensitizing themto higher needs and, with the conviction learned from Jesus, inviting them to higher joy: "But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt 6:33). Review for Religious Reality may seem to fly in the face of this assurance, but can-not negate it altogether. People like Paul, who by God's grace knew a deep joy in penury as well as in plenty (Ph 4:11-13), show the truth of Jesus' words. In declaring that God has a higher claim on people and fills a deeper need than ordinary earthly liv-ing makes them concerned about, Jesus was not being naive. Well aware of the problematic reverses of human life, he was aware too of the privileged reserves of the human spirit. And so he would train people in tested, mature happiness by his winning counsel: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows" (Mt 10:29-31). This stance leads us to the fourth move, namely, to encour-age and fortify people caught in suffering to rise above it and emerge in joy. Would this work in life? It can and does, because it did in Christ's life. Even though all through his public life he encountered opposition from many quarters and faced threats to his life from authorities like Herod, he carried on his work with joyous determination and courage that were the mark of his unflinching faith in God. When his disciples were sorely troubled by his uncertain future, he reassured them emphati-cally: "Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy" (Jn 16:20). He urged them to ask the Father for any-thing in his name and to count on receiving it so that their joy might be complete On 16:24). The fifth move will be to witness to the revelation of how exceptionally suffering people may anticipate their joy in their very suffering (as Jesus himself did), and not in spite of it. At the end of his life, when the worst of his fears were to overtake him, he made a celebration of his last meal, carried himself with joyous strength of an unusual kind, and imparted to his dis-heartened disciples his sure vision of their future mission of suc-cess with words of comfort: "I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete" (Jn 15:1 I). He concluded by asking the Father that his distraught disciples might have his own joy made complete in their very selves (Jn 17:13). From his personal experience he could witness to the joy of the persecuted poor, not only in principle by declaring them Janumy-Februal~ 2000 Dominic ¯ Evangelization as Religious Mission of ,yoy blessed (Mt 5:10-12), but also in practice by bringing public recognition to people who were quietly but surely joyful, such as the poor widow who made an offering to God of all her sav-ings with sure, spontaneous, though unglamorous, joy (Mk 12:41- 44). The most moving story of this kind that I know is this: A woman took a priest to her home to" show him a secret of hers. Hidden in a corner was her bedridden eight-year-old son, with the body of a child and the head of an adult, with a darting tongue like a snake's. Seeing the sight he groaned; but she did not hear it, for she was saying, "Father, I have looked after this child for eight years now. He knows only me. I love him very much. Almost no one knows about it." In speaking thus warmly of her son, she did not hesitate to speak happily about her God as well: "God is good. God is our Father.,,s The more such secrets are known, the more joy will abound on the earth! The sixth move in evangelization is to declare, after due dis-cernment, how the good and glad program of God for humanity is being carried out even at the social level. Christ began his min-istry of joy at Nazareth, making precisely such a discerned dec-laration to his townsfolk. More than Jesus' proclamation of the good plan of God for their welfare, what pleasantly surprised them was the accompanying announcement of its effectiveness then and there in the very workings of their society (Lk 4:21). All through his later ministry, too, he was intent on making peo-ple recognize the growing social implementation of the divine plan carried on through the mediation of works of gladness done by himself (Lk 7:18-22 and 11:20) and like-minded others, whether among his explicit followers or unattached admirers (Mk 7:1-9, 9:11-12 and 38-40, and 12:34; Lk 10:i0-11 and 18-19). In our evangelization, therefore, we need to be on the watch to dis-cern and broadcast the divine reformation and revolution willy-nilly taking place in the world, thanks to our cooperative works, small or big, and those of many, many others, done--in the spirit of the Servant of Yahweh--quietly, steadfastly, and effectively (Mt 12:19-21). Even as we rejoice and lead others to rejoice in the magnalia Dei present in contemporary society, we also know and cannot deny the ungodly contradictions that afflict our web of life covertly and overtly. The best move in this situation--and this is the seventh and last move in our task of joy--is to channel into our world the spirit of the Book of Revelation, namely, a mood of Review for Religious faith and hope: faith in God revealed in the great works of joy already experienced, and hope in God preparing greater works, of which our mind has not conceived but of which there has been an earnest within our experience. One of the most fervent expres-sions of such an experience is the ancient song that nevertheless sounds new: "Though the fig tree does not blossom and no fruit is on the vines, though the produce of the olive fails and the fields yield no food,.yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation" (Hab 3:17-18). Mary, Mission of Joy What is the Magnificat but the above ancient hymn sung in a new melody? Surprised by joy, Mary celebrates God in her new song for all his works of gladness wrought in her and her society of the lowly, down through the ages. She rejoices in her own deeds of happiness, too, which God inspired her to perform for the benefit of the lowly and indeed of all humankind. She inspires and urges all those interested in similar works to become part of the hopeful, joyful movement to which God gives increasing momentum for his glory and our bliss. Following her Son in all matters of life, she precedes us religious like a wise guide in all matters, even in our evangelical mission. Notes ~ See Review for Religious 57, no. 6 (November-December 1998): 605-620. 2 Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, I Say unto You, Vol. 2 (Pune, India: Rajneesh Foundation, 1980), p. 172. 3 Rajneesh, I Say unto You, pp. 217-218. 4 Reddy (1895-1958), a convert, renounced his professorship in a Jesuit college in Tamil Nadu and became a pilgrim beggar and vagrant preacher. See J. Cherupallikat, Witness Potential of Evangelical Poverty in India (Immensee, Switzerland: Nouvelle Revue de Science Missionnaire, 1975), pp. 117-121. s See Leonardo Boff, The Lord's Prayer (Indore, India: Satprakashan Sanchar Kendra, no date), p. 88. January-Feblvtary 2000 finding God ROBERT % COSTELLO Discovering God in Gaps Joseph Cardinal Bernardin influenced millions of peo-ple. As I read accounts of his life and watched the tele-vision coverage of his death and funeral, I was intrigued by a paradox. Cardinal Bernardin wrote, shortly before his death in November 1996, that his last years were the best and worst of times. He said he loved being Joseph to his people and seeking to build bridges between diverse church elements. He told of struggling to free himself from a "need" for success, a "need" to avoid criticism; he told of struggling to trust. He said he was whipsawed by groups asking him to carry their diverse banners. Then came the shocking conspiracy to brand him for sexual misconduct. After displaying immense courage amid the harsh publicity, he gained a growing respect and influence during the slow onset of the cancer that brought his death. Joseph Bernardin's influence peaked in his vulner-ability to the plot to defame him, his care for his false accuser. His example suggests a paradoxical experience in leadership, one which raises engaging questions. Are there implications for church leaders in the cardinal's Robert T. Costello SJ, onetime professor of psychology at Rockhurst College and former provincial superior of his order's Missouri province, currently does retreat work at the Guelph Centre of Spirituality; Box 245, Station Main; Guelph, Ontario; N1H 6J9 Canada. Review for Religious behavior? Is there even a hint for a spirituality for others beneath the dramatic circumstances he found himself in? Several experi-ences of mine have suggested an answer. The Southdown Institute is a residential treatment facility for priests and religious and offers monthly workshops for provincials, diocesan chancellors, and council members return-ing for aftercare with former residents. Asked to be a party to those sessions while on staff, I found myself filtering their expe-riences through memories of previous ~:esponsibilities of mine. This led me to sense that Bernardin's curious enhanced power had meaning for other leaders in the church. The leadership participants spoke of their stress at having to make choices about subordinates while pulled between conflicting values and options. They had to decide between what was empathic and tolerant on the one hand and firm and objective on the other. So it seemed to them. I describe this situation as "being in a gap" between an objective managerial function and an empathic pas-toral inclination. It is as though there is no one to turn to when a decision must be made. The cardinal was in a contradictory sit-uation or gap between defending his personal reputation and addressing what he learned were the spiritual needs of his accuser. I believe that this experiential dilemma, this gap, is worth exploring. What is involved in a church leader's experience of the gaps in administration? What Is a Gap? I define the gap as the tension a leader experiences in choos-ing between opposing goods such as compassion and impartial-ity. Should one postpone a difficult decision until there is more information, follow an intuition, or get on with a community's organizational needs? I consulted journals to better understand a paradox I felt was present in gaps. I also shared my quandary with three peo-ple presumably well versed in gap pressures. A general's assis-tant said that the gap issue deals with a leader's spiritual sensitivity to find God in the stressful situations. An assistant to the late Pedro Arrupe likewise suggested that gaps involve the spiritual meaning one disc6vers in the ministry of leadership. The provincial of a large community recalled being pulled by uncertainty and yet needing to act with determination. These January-Februa~7 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps responses added to my interest in the paradox that unintended influence emerges when a leader experiences a "centrifugal" effect from weakness and strength. Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager, a role which is bound to involve the kind of gaps we are discussing. It is different from the role of a business or professional leader (Nygren and Ukeritis, 1993). Empathy is an obvious part of the job description, but so is resolute confrontation. Workshop participants at Southdown spoke of pride in their organization's history, joy in their work, but also pain in conflicted relations with members. They said the stress was to be patient and challenging with fragile personalities while remaining focused on pressing tasks like building commu-nity consensus. One participant recalled that a lawyer's advice about a personnel issue seemed heartless but persuasive. Such circumstances required taking valuable time to address inappro-priate behaviors, being supportive of the person but still pursu-ing larger organizational issues. The research data of Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. (1993) broad-ened my notion of the gaps church leaders encounter. The authors uncovered nearly a dozen pressures which both pull and restrain religious leaders. For example, there is a strain between cultural individualism on one hand and the gospel values calling to relationships on the other. They wrote that leaders should be partners in the process of renewal, not initiators. Leaders also needed to establish mutual relationships. Their research found that generosity in some members was being eclipsed by self-pre-occupation. They noted that fewer religious espoused a prefer-ential option for the poor because of responding to personal calls for self-determination, making assignment difficult. This litera-ture, however, did not address an aspect of the leader's experi-ence I sensed in the life of Cardinal Bernardin and recalled, in a way, from my own years as a provincial. I found myself curious about his power. Eventually I had a clearer sense that there were unique tensions or gaps in the power differentials of leaders and community members. I originally had an unexamined, even patriarchal, conception of power: it produces effects. Thus the religious leader buys or sells property, approves vows. She can influence events in for-eign countries. Power makes things happen for individuals and a community and can be a unilateral influence. I also mistakenly Review for Religious suspected that leadership's authority was in the office or person. I believed that ideally Bernardin's considerable power would leave him unaffected if he exercised it adroitly. In .other words, good leadership could, should, and would produce a win-win result. I recalled, though, having nagging doubts after making some deci-sions. Those are what I was coming to recognize and identify as my gap experiences. A second conception of power grew out of curiosity about how the cardinal remained so influential aJ~er the conspiracy to besmirch his reputation collapsed. There was power and influence in how he allowed himself to be unaf-fected. I could understand people admiring his humility, but the pro-found impact his dying had on people puzzled me because I thought media frenzy would stain his integrity and reputation. I finally saw that there was power in how he allowed himself be affected. Power was being both active and passive, doing and receiving. When a Southdown workshop participant recalled a member's death from AIDS and the scandal which developed, I found his empathic reaction powerful. Gradually I saw that this second conception of power was a pas-sive reality that makes church leadership both personally demand-ing and spiritually challenging because church structure expects spiritual meaning to be acknowledged. Authority, then, seemed somehow to be a mutual influence. As the publicity swirled about him, Bernardin's stature seemed to increase with each gentle assertion, of his innocence and his belief that somehow the truth would appear. He pressed on with his plan to develop greater harmony in the Catholic Church of the United States while continuing to empathize with his accuser. He was in a wrenching gap. After he was exonerated of sexual impropriety, he threw himself into work only to be diagnosed With terminal cancer, but that is another story and a different stressful situation. Nygren, Ukeritis, et al. say that leaders viewed their source of power as residing either in themselves or in others. A leader who assumes personal authority is able to be assertive, while a Church leadership is a hybrid role of prophet and executive, of inspirational guide and money manager. January-February 2000 Costello * Discovering God in Gaps leader who considers the source of power to be in others becomes more interdependent or tentative. Note here that these sources of power are not mutually exclusive and inevitably result in the internal struggles (gaps) that are at issue here. For example, a leader who stands on his or her own authority and is objectively assertive in dealing with members may generate resistance and be labeled autocratic. A leader who sees his or her power as derived from others can become paralyzed by members who disagree and resist consensus. A conception of passive power I found most enlightening was that of Bernard Loomer (1976). He described it as relational power. His concept helped me understand the paradox of Cardinal Bernardin: giving and receiving influence. This kind of. power is not an either/or capacity, like deciding to act or not act in a certain way. With Loomer's guidance I will digress on two faces of power: Power results from being influenced and Power preserves rela-tionships. Power as being influenced is not a contradiction. One workshop participant spoke of selling a building that had great symbolic value for her community and openly sharing the pain of it, thus leading the community to "get through it." A second par-ticipant spoke of compassionately confronting the stony silence of a member who violated a fiduciary relationship. Such gap expe-riences are clearly intense--but how are they powerful? The Challenge of Gaps Gaps challenge leaders to expand in "size," that is, to make room in their minds and hearts for opposing realities, such as the limits of human adaptability juxtaposed with situational demands. Gaps stretch leaders, and the power is displayed in the manner in which they embrace what is needed but only possibly achievable. Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncer-tain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Cardinal Bernardin exercised power by being mortified on CNN over the accusation thrown at him of sexual abuse. He gent-ly absorbed the humiliation of being asked on television if he was sexually active. He also showed the size of his heart by refusing to countersue his accuser, while at the same time working (in what must have seemed another world) to build consensus among divergent elements in the church. Size is prodigal power because Review for Religious it demonstrates that stress is absorbed for the uncertain benefit of others. The cardinal's power was shown also by his refusing to unleash a legal assault on the conspirators with his available resources and by his believing that this conspiracy could not crush him. Size deals with the interior authority of the person; I find it godlike. A second face of power is manifest in someone who actively preserves relationships. In Loomer's view here, power is the capacity to sustain the mutuality of giv-ing and receiving. Individuals with per-sonal problems often refuse .such mutuality by erecting rigid boundaries as a way of securing whatever power they have. Bernardin's relational power consisted in the months of effort he spent trying to establish a vulnerable connection with his accuser, not in any brandishing of his status, with its vast legal resources that would only have cre-ated a wider gulf. In the end, both men contributed to and were nourished in the relationship because of thee inequalities of power. This was for me a surprising real-ization: one of the greatest influences anyone can have on another is being influenced by that person. Therein lies the power available in gaps. As I spent time musing about this issue, I came finally to a new understanding of some of my leadership experience. I grasped that my deep pain over the shrinkage of religious life was sad-ness over others' "poor discernment" or "lack of courage": "If only those departing had consulted more astute advisors, they could have fallen out of love and remain and resolve their issues" ¯ . . "If only they had more grit, things could be as they were-- and we have such need of their gifts!" I was helpless in the face of diminishment, but also hopeful there could be unimagined surprises in it. And yet I conceived these gap experiences as noth-ing more than stress due to my personal limitations. Cardinal Bernardin believed that meeting his accuser just might set the man free. He actually went to the man, faced his understandable resentment, brought about reconciliation while pressing on with the archdiocese's business. That demonstrated Gaps pull for courage and commitment to the uncertain benefit of another, and this edifies and empowers. Jannary-Februa~y 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps his size. The cardinal seemed detached from the scandal, and it appears his anchor was in spiritual meaning he attached to this ordeal. He "knew" the truth would appear, that he was innocent and it was possible somehow to be vindicated. He recalled that Jesus pledged his life in the interest of others in the face of their mis-understandings and abandonment. This was the quintessential experience of absorbing the stress in a gap for the benefit of a dream or a commitment. It was relational power. The paradox I sensed in Cardinal Bernardin's life connected with two other men whose conversions influenced me: C.S. Lewis and Ignatius Loyola. Lewis wrote that as a child he was "stabbed" by intense feelings of joy. He seemed obsessed with recapturing this experience and spent years trying to re-create it by exploring the riches of the arts and nature. He suspected he was trying to cook up emotional thrills. After years of frustration in this quest, he concluded he was seeking the wrong quarry. He had confused the affective experience of joy with its object. The sought-after emo-tion was only a cheap reminder or a footprint of a presence. An extraordinary realization. There was no other answer because all his introspection dissatisfied him until he accepted that the value of joy was in its object, in something else, in a presence--in God. While admitting I am on uncertain ground, for me Ignatian detachment means that in leadership as well as life we must hold ourselves in a kind of balance before all things, insofar as we have a choice. In the present context, whether a gap ended with pos-itive feelings would not be the issue; rather, it would depend on which alternative led the cardinal to greater self-donation and compassion. This detachment, no matter how experienced inter-nally, calls forth a more loving response to life's circumstances, which is a presence even if experienced as stress. In my view, this interpretation describes the experience of gaps religious leaders often have when detachment produces negative feelings which demand that they increase in size. My mistake was to attribute stressful feelings to the "cost" of leadership, nothing more. I had focused on my experience of stress, not its object. I think, as well, that Ignatius considered the actual feeling in spiritual consolation to be unrelated to a venture's success or failure. This was enlightening in the face of how hard it is to associate the stress or occasional bitterness in gaps with anything like God's confirming presence. I had supposed that God is sup-posed to be present in consolation (involving joy), not in uncer- Review for Religious tainty or regret (due to my painful limitations). I recall a con-soling sense of satisfaction after a community meeting that went well--who would not feel deep joy in a win-win situation? But sit-uations of angry conflict that emphasized one's own poverty in coping with it seemed altogether different, as they did for par-ticipants at the Southdown meetings. As I was learning, though, Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. The conflicted stress that people in leadership positions experience seems to be located between what is possible for them and what is unimaginable. Leadership routinely deals with possibil-ities and constraints in people or situa-tions, and so gaps are inescapable. My own experience and comments of others at workshops convince me that Ignatian detachment and consolation give these gaps further meaning: gaps are a time of the Spirit's presence in the stress. Ignatian consolation is an affective experience directed toward God and the world and away from self, an experience that can be stressful--as when one hopes that one's own experience of a difficult interpersonal exchange may just possibly be for the good of the person and the situation. No person in history staked as much as Jesus on the merest possibility that fidelity to his convictions could be redemptive for people, notwithstanding experience to the contrary. The stakes were so high because one side of the gap meant Jesus could be deluded while the other side presented only a flimsy possibility that the kingdom he desired would ever eventuate. The stake seemed to involve the exhilaration of wagering it all, staying in the gap, believing and hoping in the possible. From this perspective, the continuing power of Jesus is the unbounded size he mani-fests because there is room in his heart for all. More humbling than finding oneself in such a gap is a sus-picion that some leaders get about themselves. They wonder whether they seek to walk this way of possibility or rather are sought by God to walk it. In my reflection I admitted, without comprehending why, the possibility of their being sought. And Ignatian consolation can coexist with stress and uncertainty when there is a conviction of possible benefit for others. January-February 2000 Costello ¯ Discovering God in Gaps that makes all the difference when they make their stake to walk the way of possibility to the end, because they believe this service will be redemptive., for someone. Just like Christ's stake. References Bernardin, Joseph Cardinal. The Gift of Peace. Chicago: Loyola Press, 1997. Lewis, C.S. Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1956. Loomer, Bernard. "Two Conceptions of Power." Process Studies 6, no. 1 (Spring 1976). Nygren, David J., CM, and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ. "The Religions Life Futures Project: Executive Summary." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-51. Nygren, David J., CM, Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, et al. "Religious- Leadership Competencies." Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May- June 1993): 390-417. Ordinary Time Hoarfrost ages the discarded Christmas trees. Fog mutes the soul, and dampness chills the heart. In ordinary time we wait, like puffed-out birds, upon a frozen limb of time and seek for solace in the hearing of the Word. Ed Block Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Ln some parts of the Catholic world, this article may draw w readers and perhaps outright protest. Among some reli-gious today, "Father" as referring to God might well be under-stood as an ideological catchword linking a speaker or writer, regardless of his or her intentions, with a slew of suspected atti-tudes (clustered around "patriarchy") about which questioning and disapproval would likely arise. Confronting Our Experience In such situations the anger evoked by an uncritical refer-ence to God as Father can be intense and highly vocal. A reaction to such anger could itself be a mirror image of the original--but in the opposite direction. "Every action has an equal and oppo-site reaction," as the saying goes. If care is not taken, this coun-tervailing process of action/reaction can spiral out of control and leave members of the believing community "poles apart." In such instances, division and animosity replace the dialogue and mutual respect that should characterize the believing com-munity. We should be saddened by such results, but not surprised. Human beings are weak and fragile. Even with the best of inten- Dennis J. Billy CSSR delivered this paper (here somewhat revised) in spring 1999 at the Institute of Spirituality of the Angelicmn in Rome. His postal address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. Janua~y-Febrt~my 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality tions, they can easily allow rancor and strife to get the upper hand in their lives. The same holds true for the communities people form, even religious ones. As the world gets smaller and smaller, I would not be surprised if the local Christian commu-nity and the local religious community reflect more and more of these complex and highly charged emotional tensions. Such is the nature of a world where technological advances have made mass communication practically instantaneous and where the communication media purvey religious sentiment for a society increasingly definable as a consumer market. Anything goes, if it will sell--better still if it will sell quickly. Package it well enough and you will get a large enough following to support your ideas. Besides, everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion. Right? If so, then we can call God whatever we please. Why not? I would be astonished if, among the readers of this journal, there is not a wide spectrum of strong emotional responses to my topic. Indeed, some of us may experience the full range of these intense emotional reactions in our own hearts. Some of us may have no problem whatsoever about referring to God as Father. Some of us may feel a certain ambivalence about the term and not quite understand why we feel the way we do. Some of us may feel guilty for feeling that way. Some of us may be confused and uncertain and may wonder h6w a simple phrase like "Our Father" can evoke such strong and conflicting emotional reac-tions. And some of us may be dead set against using such a term, regardless of what we say at Mass and regardless of what Scripture and Tradition, the pope, the magisterium, and even Jesus have to say about it. A reason for the vast array of reactions may be the ambiva-lence (and, in some cases, outright hatred) some people harbor toward their own fathers. Social historians speak of the weak-ened role of fatherhood in Western society due to tremendous upheavals brought about by the Industrial Revolution. As Western society became industrialized during the 19th and 20th centuries, the population gradually shifted from rural, agricultural areas to the cities and their outlying areas. Fathers went off to work in fac-tories, sometimes traveled long distances to get there, and returned home tired and hungry at the end of a long day with little energy for anything else. Over the years.this resulted in a culture with largely absent and disengaged fathers, who spent most of their time away from home and who had little direct Review for Religious contact with the inner workings of family life. Their job was to provide shelter and to put bread and butter on the table. Nothing more; nothing less. The image of the distant and detached father reading his evening paper, smoking his pipe, sipping his evening pint, oblivious to the needs of those around him, especially his children, is deeply embedded in many people's minds. In this century, advances in technology alleviated the situation some-what, but have created new demands on people's time and energy. These same advances, moreover, have brought much of the world under the sway of both the positive and the negative influ-ences of Western culture? If that is not enough, some people had fatherless childhoods because of war and disease. Imagine growing up without a father. People may not show it externally, but some of them have grown up feeling devastated, feel-ing abandoned by their fathers and perhaps even by God. Today households exist where the father or at least a strong fatherly influence simply does not exist. One wonders what calling God "Father" might mean in such a home. Of course, when fathers fail to take their roles seriously, when they neglect their children or abuse them with physical and psychological violence, even sexual misconduct, there is another problem about calling God "Father." Tensions grow and family situations worsen. No wonder that some people find it difficult to address God as their Father. Why should they think God would be anything but detached or remote or even violent toward them? How would you feel if you were in their shoes? Perhaps you already are. This is just a sampling of the wide range of feelings our topic can evoke. If we wish to understand what devotion to God the Father means for religious spirituality today, we need at the out-set to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. If we do not handle these problems regarding human fatherhood, theologians may look into possible new names for God and talk about them engagingly, but the names will very likely fail to make that all- We need to recognize and confront the wide range of sad experiences of fatherhood that people have had and do have. January-February 2000 Billy * Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spiritlutlity important journey from the mind to the heart. Proposed names that seem "theologically accurate" and "politically correct" are not likely ever to fit the mystery which sustains us and the world we live in from one moment to the next. If the words we use for God in prayer are somehow false, then the images they call up and our prayers themselves are likely to go awry. Defining Our Terms What does devotion to the Father mean in religious-life spir-ituality today? We have looked at various tensions to which use of this name for God gives rise in different people. Now we will clarify some of the terms of the discussion. To begin with, I follow Thomas Aquinas's understanding of "devotion" as "a ready willingness to give oneself to the service of God"; it is an act of religion, one of the allied virtues of jus-tice, and manifests itself in people's deep desire to serve God in whatever way asked of them (see ST2a-2ae.82.1 and 2). I use the word Father not in the Roman sense of paterfamilias (that is, "the patriarchal head of a household"), but in the Aramaic sense of "Abba" (that is, "Pap'a") that Jesus used to express the loving, compassionate face of God. This term has deep roots in the Christian psyche and expresses what experts in male spirituality refer to as "the deep masculinity" of God.2 Jesus himself explains this v.ery well in the Gospel of Luke when he says, "Be compas-sionate as your Father is compassionate" (Lk 6:36). By religious I refer to the way of life recognized by the Catholic Church that seeks to follow Christ through life in community and by the pub-lic profession of the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience.3 This way of life has deep roots in Christian history, belongs to the charismatic dimension of the church, and forms an integral part of its life and holiness. By spirituality, in many ways the most elu-sive of the terms I am dealing with, I mean "how individuals or groups understand and carry out the ultimate meaning of their life." It can be discussed on three levels--the experiential, the doctrinal, and the analytical--and embraces both theoretical and concrete, practical issues.4 To quote a circular letter of Joseph W. Tobin, the Redemptorist superior general, "spirituality is con-nected with basic and often unsettling questions: Who are we? Why are we? How are we to live?''s Having clarified 'my terms, I can now express the question Review for Religious posed by my topic in the following way: What are the practical consequences of lifestyle and identity for those of us in the church who seek to give ourselves in service to God, our merciful and compassionate Father, through life in community and the public profession of the evangelical counsels? This question yields no simple solution. It is very difficult and complex, one that holds no instant solution, but must be pondered and contemplated by each community of religious and by each individual religious over and over and over again. I offer some guidelines to help in this process. Naming the Mystery Before we begin to do that, however, we must note the lim-itations of human language and its inability to exhaust the mys-tery of the divine. Language conceals as much as it reveals, perhaps even more. As Pseudo-Dionysius reminds us in The Divine Names: "God is . . . known in all things and as distinct from all things. He is known through knowledge and through unknowing. Of him there is conception, reason, understanding, touch, perception, opinion, imagination, name, and many other things. On the other hand he cannot be understood, words can-not contain him, and no name can lay hold of him.''6 The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370) affirms this when it reminds us that we are created in God's image and not vice versa: "God is pure spirit in which there is no place for the difference between the sexes. But the respective 'perfections' of man and woman reflect something of the infinite perfection of God: those of a mother and those of a father and husband." In other words, the names we give God express something of who God is, but also fall infinitely short. Kataphatic (or "posi-tive") theology and apophatic (or "negative") theology go hand in hand. God is "Abba, Father," as Jesus teaches us, but also "our loving Mother," as the 14th-century anchoress Julian of Norwich reminds us in her Showings, and "inmost ground," as Meister Eckhart proposes in his German works.7 God can be referred to by these and a host of other religious appellations, some of which we can readily identify with, others not so readily. Perhaps it is only the "coincidence of opposites" which best expresses the mystery of God, who is known in the midst of our unknowing and who cannot be confined by our meager attempts to express the inexpressible. Janua~. -February 2000 Billy ¯ Devotion to God the Father in Religious Spirituality Theological language is fundamentally analogical in nature. That is to say, any word we use when speaking about or naming God expresses, at one and the same time, both a proportional likeness and difference. This holds true even for the word which the Word made flesh himself used to address God. Jesus calls God "Abba, Father," not to tie God down, define him, create an image of him in our heads, or (worse yet) exhaust his mystery, but to assure us that compassion and love rather than confusion and chaos lie at the heart of existence. This is precisely what the Spirit tells us when it cries out "Abba, Father" deep within our hearts and intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words (see Rm 8:15-27). Something rings true in our hearts when we call God "Abba, Father." We know that God is very much more than this two-syllable word can convey, but somehow it seems all right. We sense that God hears us, understands us, and assures us that all shall be well. A Revealed Religion Why is this so? We already have a received a glimpse of the reason above when, referring to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§370), we noted that we are created in God's image, and not vice versa. Notice the passive voice. We are created. It is not we who do the creating. God is not a function of our language and systems of thought. We do not somehow "create" God by the names we give him or the theologies we concoct to express his divine mystery. If this were true, then theology itself would just be a sophisticated form of anthropomorphizing. In fact, God takes the initiative and reveals to us the nature of the divine. The ini-tiative is not for us to take; we are receivers. God uses human instruments, of course, which themselves are weak and fallible, but he takes the initiative. We must not forget that Christianity is a revealed religion. When it comes to naming God, it recognizes that human reason and human imagination can only go so far. On our own, all we can come up with is the recognition of the weakness of human lan-guage to express the inexpressible and the necessity of using many names so as to

Issue 49.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1990. ; R~\'u!w ~:~R Rt~u~aot!s ( ISSN OO34-639X ) is published bi-monlhly ai St. La~uis University by the Mis-souri Provinc¢ Edu~.'ational Inslilulc of the Soci,.Zly of.lcsus: Editorial Office; 36OI Lind¢ll Blvd. Rm. 4214: St. Louis. MO 63 IOg-3393. S¢cond-class postage2 paid at St. U~uis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United Stal¢.~ $15.00 I'or one .,,'ear: $2g.00 for two years. Olher countries: US $20.00 for on~ .vear~ if airmail. US $35.00 per )'car. For subscription orders or chan~¢ of address. write: Rl~\'ll~\V i:tm R~il.l(i~vs; F'.O. Box riO'70; Duluth. MN 55gO6. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:\'l~:w vor R~:l.~{:l~nls; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. I)avid L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.,J. ,Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contrib.ting Editor Advisor\" Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. Jan.ar\'lFebrttarv 1990 Volume 49 N.mber I Manuscripts, Imoks fiw review and correspondence with the editor sho(dd be sent to w~a R~:u~;~o~s: 361)1 I,indell Blvd.: St. I,ouis. MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the deparlmenl "Canonical Connsel'" should he addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.°I:B.: 1735 I,eRoy Ave.: Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:\'u~w voa RF:L~;~US; 3601 I,indell Blvd.; St. I,ouis, MO 63108-3393. "'O1.11 of prinl" issues are availahle from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.: Ann Arbor. MI 481116, A major portion of each issne is also availahle on cassette recordings as a service for Ihe visually impaired. \\'rile Io the Xavier Sociely hw Ihe Blind; 154 Easl 23rd Street: New York, NY I0010. Review for Religious Volume 49, 1990 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis. Missouri 63108-3393 David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Septem-ber, and November on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Mi-crofilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright© 1990 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion of each issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is also regu-larly available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually im-paired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS. As we begin our forty-ninth volume, there are some additional names found on our inside cover editorial masthead. Although our readers may be familiar with the members of our Advisory Board from their writings or from conferences or workshops, I want to take this opportunity to intro-duce each one of them. Father David Hassel, S.J., with his doctorate in philosophy from St. Louis University, has taught university courses in the philosophy of hu-man nature, God, Augustine, and secularization for twenty-seven years. He has written four books on prayer (Paulist Press) and two on Chris-tian philosophy of education and of love (Loyola University Press), along with some nine articles for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. He currently is a writer-in- residence at Loyola University in Chicago, Illinois. Sister Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D., is presently chancellor of the Jefferson City, Missouri diocese. From 1977 to 1987, she served in Rome as general superior of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, and from 1971 to 1977 as provincial councilor of the St. Louis province. With her doctorate in theology from Marquette University, she has lec-tured on topics of theology and spirituality, and has been involved in giv-ing retreats and spiritual direction. Brother Sean D. Sammon, F.M.S., is provincial of the Poughkeep-sie Province of the Marist Brothers and also serves as president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. He worked for nine years at the House of Affirmation, serving most recently as Clinical Director. With three books and a number of articles published, his most recent contri-bution is Alcoholism's Children: ACoAs in Priesthood and Religious Life (Alba House). With his doctorate in psychology from Fordham Univer-sity, he lectures on topics of adult development among religious and priests, sexuality and intimacy, and addictive behavior. Wendy M. Wright, with her doctorate in theology from the Gradu-ate Theological Union in Berkeley, currently teaches theology at Creighton University. She has taught at University of California at Santa Barbara, Weston School of Theology in Cambridge, and Univeisity of Nebraska at Omaha in the fields of history of Christian spirituality, his-tory of religions, and family spirituality. Among her publications are Sa-cred Dwelling: A Spirituality of Family Life; Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantah Letters of Spiritual Direction (with Joseph F. Power); and 3 4 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Bond of Perfection: Jane de Chantal and Francis de Sales. She and her husband, Roger Bergman, who is director of New Covenant Justice and Peace Center, have three children and live in Omaha, Nebraska. Sister Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B., holds a master's degree in clini-cal psychology from Loyola University of Chicago and is a licensed psy-chologist in the state of Illinois. She has worked as a school psycholo-gist, university campus minister, and for twelve years as staff member and co-director of the Institute of Spiritual Leadership of Loyola Univer-sity, an international program training men and women for spiritual lead-ership as companions for those on the spiritual journey. She has offered workshops throughout the United States and Canada as well as in Japan, Hong Kong, and Indonesia. As a member of the Benedictine Sisters of St. Scholastica Priory, Chicago, she has served as first councilor and is presently community secretary and formation directress, a position she also held for six years in the 1970s. As editor, I am delighted to welcome these members of our Advi-sory Board. With their broad experience, learning, and publishing skills, they give promise of providing Rzvmw FOR Rzt.~c~ot~s with future direc-tion and creative imagination as we look toward the Church of the third millennium. David L. Fleming, S.J. Challenges Facing Active Religious Today Sally A. Kenel, D.W. Sister Sally Kenel, D.W., can be addressed at St. John's University; 300 Howard Avenue; Staten Island, New York 10301. Iduring the summer of 1988 I participated in the General Chapter of the congregation to which I belong, the Daughters of Wisdom. Since we are an international group with our generalate in Rome, the meeting was held at a large house specially equipped for chapters in the lake district out-side of Rome. There were many adjustments to make: some as basic as climate, language, and food. However, it was only after we had been meeting for about a week that I realized that even more significant than these was the overall adjustment in lifestyle. We followed a strict schedule which centered around our Eucharis-tic celebration and our Marian prayer in common. The casa at which we met was quite far from the nearest town. Moreover, the doors of the house as well as the gates of the property were locked at 9:30 P.M. and reopened at 8:00 A.M. On the several occasions I absented myself from the common meals, questions about the state of my health indicated that I had been "missed." In my initial processing of this experience, I com-pared being at the general chapter to being in the novitiate. However, as our discussions at the chapter centered on the mission of the congregation and the lifestyle of a religious today, I realized that even as we talked about community life in an active religious congrega-tion, we were living a monastic lifestyle. This insight served as the cata-lyst for this article in that it stimulated my reflections on the active as opposed to monastic lifestyle, and the challenges facing post-Vatican II active religious. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 The Active Religious Life Almost twenty five years ago, the Second Vatican Council in its "De-cree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," stated that such a renewal involved two simultaneous processes: "(1) a continuous return to the sources of all Christian life and to the original inspiration behind a given community and (2) an adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times."~ In the years which followed, our con-gregation, like so many others, took these words of Vatican II to heart and with much prayer, soul searching, discussion, and, at times, painful confrontation, engaged in the renewal of our congregation. The result of our efforts was the declaration that for us mission is primary. In other words, on the continuum which runs from contemplative to active relig-ious lifel we clearly situated ourselves near the latter. In so placing ourselves, we joined with other congregations in liv-ing religious life in a way that George Aschenbrenner has distinguished from contemplative life in six main ways. (!) Ministry is the primary de-termining influence for the community. This being the case, then (2) a certain flexibility is necessary in order to be able to deal with the de-mands' of ministerial activities. However, such a life may become scat-tered; therefore, (3) discernment is needed if religious are to find, be with, and serve God through their works. Since the purpose of the con-gregation is to be sent in mission, (4) mobility and availability are key elements of an active spirituality, and correspondingly (5) an apostolic form of prayer should characterize active religious. Finally, (6) the com-munity must be marked by a unity which goes beyond physical presence to a unity of mind and heart.2 Although active congregations have done much to make these char-acteristics vital dimensions of their lives, certain of these areas continue to challenge. Frequently the challenge they offer is a subtle one. While religious are engaged in evaluating their ministries and strategizing to in-culturate the gospel message and values, other aspects of active religious life may be neglected. It is these areas which continue to challenge re-ligious, and at times provide the fodder for those who endorse a return to a more traditional lifestyle. Assuming that participation in the mission of the Church is primary for active religious, and that our efforts at renewal in this area are con-stant, a whole variety of questions arise. For example, when we focus our efforts on mission what happens to community? Does it remain one of the marks of religious life, or do we abandon it and become secular institutes? As our communities become smaller and our works less insti- Challenges Facing Religious Life / 7 tutionalized what happens to "local superiors"? If they are no longer needed as administrators, who fills the mentoring roles which they tra-ditionally held? What is an apostolic prayer life? Can unity of heart and mind extend beyond the borders of a particular country or culture to form an international bond? The fact that these questions are spin-offs from the primary question of ministry in no way diminishes our responsibility to respond. As ac-tive religious we need to grapple with these issues to see where the Spirit is leading us today. It is to reflection on these questions that we now turn. The Challenge of Community Living The Vatican document, "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing. on Religious Life," states that: The style of community life itself will relate to the form of apostolate for which the members have responsibility and to the culture and soci-ety in which this responsibility is accepted. The form of apostolate may well decide the size and location of a community, its particular needs, its standards of living.3 This statement clearly indicates that a community lifestyle is the norm for religious, and recognizes that local communities can and must take a form appropriate to the needs of the apostolate. As simple as this may seem, any one who tries to live in community with people who engage in a variety of ministries knows that the reality is quite complex. People come to community with a variety of expectations. Some use the family as the model for community life. Although the sharing of re-sources that community life demands may well be similar to that of a fam-ily, there are also differences. Some people expect to find in community the security of a parent-child relationship where they may relax in de-pendence or dominance depending on their personalities. Others ap-proach community as a sorority or fraternity and expect that community will provide them with a group of congenial companions with whom they may spend their free time. Others look on community as a shelter, a place to come home to after a hard day's work. Sitting quietly in front of the TV is their idea of a pleasant evening together. For still others, a "bed and breakfast" model of community is the ideal. Ministerial ob-ligations, dinners with friends, shopping, visits to a health club, and so forth, indiscriminately keep a person busy every evening. By so limit-ing the time spent with the group, a person is able to avoid the give-and-take which life in community ordinarily demands. At least in part, all these expectations show a response to the com~ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 mon life that was the norm for religious communities prior to Vatican II. At that point in time, a good community was one whose main attrib-utes were regularity, order, and discipline. Vestiges of this ideal remain and constitute the basis for the expectations of some religious today. On the other hand, there are religious whose expectations of community have their roots in reactions against a common life. The result is a ten-sion which is expressed by clusters of people around the pole of group orientation in opposition to clusters of people around the pole of indi-vidual orientation. Attempts to address such tension on the practical level has led to such practices as interviewing prospective members of a local community in order to examine mutual compatibility. Although such testing may lead to a more peaceful life together, it fails to address the basic issue of the value of community itself. Why do active religious live in community? One way to respond to this question is rooted in Johannes Metz's understanding of religious congregations as "the institutionalized form of a dangerous memory within the Church."4 The community life of an active religious congregation, then, recalls the enthusiastic union of the early Christians described in the Acts of the Apostles: "The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common" (Ac 3:32). These early Christians had grasped the notion that God is community, the Trinity, and gave witness to this belief through their life together. Thus, the community life of active re-ligious today serves as a protest against the excessive individualism in today's society and bears witness to the fact that to be is to be in rela-tionship. Reflection on the value of community does not immediately solve all the problems connected with the living of community today. However, it does provide the context in which religious can explore the particulars of community life. By locating the value of community in witness, the notion of community for the mission of the Church is reaffirmed. Thus, the challenge for active religious is to find ways of being together in com-munity which facilitate the ministries of each member, and at the same time proclaim the interdependence of all people. The Challenge o1' Mentoring Several years ago when I was a member of our community's forma-tion team we spent a great deal of time reflecting on where to send our ne~,ly professed sisters. Although ministerial opportunity was our pri-mary consideration, we quickly became involved in the question of vi-able community situations. Where were there sisters who would be open Challenges Facing Religious Life to sharing their lives with the temporary professed whose experiences were so different? Where were there sisters who could and would serve as mentors for these women? In general, we found a reluctance on the part of older sisters to become involved in a mentoring relationship. In pre-Vatican II days this problem did not exist. The local superior was responsible for all the sisters in her house, and she was expected to pay particular attention to the integration of the temporary professed into the community. Thus, the formation begun in the postulate, novitiate, and juniorate was continued by the superior in the house to which a sis-ter was assigned. In addition, regular personal meetings with the supe-rior often served as spiritual direction. Today active communities are smaller and less structured. Often, the group is not uniformly involved in a particular ministry. Joined to the emphasis on the personal respon-sibi! ity of each member, these factors have contributed to the demise of the role of local superior. In their place we find the "communicator" or "contact person," that is, someone within the group who accepts re-sponsibility for communication with the provincial leadership, and so forth. However successful such communication may be, this redefinition of task may leave the mentoring role which the superior formerly filled empty. Such a lack not only deprives new members of receiving the tra-ditions of the community, but also raises the question of whether the adult crisis which Erikson describes as Generativity vs. Stagnation is be-ing successfully negotiated. Although some may claim that their minis-try outside the congregation commits them to involvement in establish-ing and guiding the next generation of Christians, the responsibility of passing on the charism of their particular group cannot be ignored. However, some will argue that the religious life of today bears little resemblance to the life to which they committed themselves. They con-tend that they cannot be expected to pass on the tradition because they themselves do not know what has happened to it. Take daily Eucharist, for example. They consider it a must, and yet newer members of the com-munity do not share the depth of their commitment in this area. How can they be expected to pass on the tradition to those whose values are judged not only different but inferior? What these people fail to realize is that generativity demands the pass-ing on of the tradition, in this case the charism, and not one particular time bound expression of it. Their nostalgic reminiscences of the "good old days" when community members did everything together are but signs of their own stagnation. The challenge for active religious is to re- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 alize that the process of renewal set in motion by Vatican II is an ongo-ing one. It demands the frequent return to the charism, and the contin-ual search for appropriate expressions of the charism. The refusal of men-toring roles in a congregation may indicate that it is time to examine the charism again with the hope of identifying its core values so that these values in turn may be passed on. It may also be time to view the charism as a gift to the whole Church, not merely to a particular congregation. This opens ihe way to redefining membership to include associate mem-bership and other forms of affiliation with a congregation. These new forms of membership in turn raise anew the challenge of mentorship. The Challenge of an Apostolic Prayer Life The need for prayer in the life of a religious is often likened to a car's need for gasoline. Unless one gets the tank filled periodically, the car will not continue to run. One immediately makes the connection with the need for religious to take time to become filled with God. Today's re-ligious seem very much aware of the need for periodic retreats and pro-longed periods of prayer. However, another automobile analogy can be made. It is not only gasoline in the engine that keeps a car running. While the car is going the battery must be constantly recharged by the ¯ alternator or else the car cannot continue to run. Thus, besides setting aside more extended periods for prayer, an apostolic prayer life calls for continual prayer in the midst of activity. But, how does one "pray always?" (Lk 18: I). The temptation is to claim that one's work is prayer. However, in such a simple equation, both work and prayer lose something. A brief reflection on Eucharist may help to bring the relationship between prayer and work into sharper focus for the active religious. Eucharist involves three basic movements: thanksgiving, memorial, and invocation. At Eucharist we give thanks to God in Jesus' name for all the good things--be they as general as creation, and redemption, or as particular as specific moments of grace. We remember the death and resurrection of Jesus, the "dangerous memory" par excellence, a mem-ory which promises freedom for all. We implore the Holy Spirit to make our gifts holy and to transform ourselves as well. Notice, however, that this is not the prayer of an individual, but rather we thank; we remem-ber; we invoke. The Eucharist teaches us that prayer is not merely a dia-logue between a person and God, but rather that Christian prayer is com-munal. Moreover, Eucharist does not end when one leaves the church. As the poe~n by R. Voight makes clear, in our work we do Eucharist. Con- Challenges Facing Religious Life sider, one verse: He was old, tired, and sweaty, pushing his homemade cart down the alley, stopping now and then to poke around in somebody's garbage. I wanted to tell him about Eucharist But the look in his eyes the despair on his face, the hopelessness of somebody else's life in his cart, Told me to forget it. So I smiled, said "Hi"--and gave him Eucharist.5 This brief reflection on Eucharist points to the dynamic relation be-tween prayer and work in the life of the active religious. Prayer as en-gagement in contemplation is not an individual activity, but rather, no matter how personal, is also communal. Our communion with Christ is a communion with the Body of Christ as well. This sense of communion finds expression in prayer not only as the context out of which one prays but also in the form of prayers of petition, and through such expression communion is enhanced. In turn, this sense of unity with others demands expression in our ministry. Our union with Christ urges us to a life of service. Thus, an apostolic prayer life does not exist alone, but only in conjunction with a prayerful apostolate. The challenge of an apostolic prayer life is to develop a prayerful approach to ministry so that prayer and work are viewed as different forms which our efforts towards true communion take. The Challenge of Internationality We live in a time when distances between places have been reduced drastically by improved means of communication and transportation. We live in a time when the condition of the very planet on which we live challenges us to recognize our interdepeiadence. Simultaneously, how-ever, today's religious are encouraged to adapt their style of life to the demands of their specific apostolates and to the culture in which they live. In trying to make such adaptations, religious tend to emphasize the needs and demands of the local church and the local community. Al-though such a focus is important, at times it can be isolating, and can raise the question of what it means to belong to a larger group, be it prov-ince or international congregation. In other words, if we have more in common with other religiou~ living and working in similar situations than we have with other members of our own congregation, why belong to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 an international congregation? Responses to questions such as these hang on the value which one places on the charism of a congregation. Is the charism an adequate ground on which bonds strong enough to extend across continents yet flex-ible enough to allow for cultural diversity can be built? Or to put it an-other way, does sharing the past, being a community of memory, so ori-ent us that we engage in the here and now not only with enthusiasm, but with the realization that our here and now is but a part of the total pres-ent reality? Moreover, does being a community of memory so orient us towards the future that we face it with hope not only for ourselves, but for all people, for the world? The potential of the charism of a congregation to enable bonding needs to be developed and made concrete. In recent years such develop-ment of the charism in active congregations often has taken the form of a mission statement. However, the mission statement itself can remain purely theoretical unless we begin to share the stories of how this state-ment is enfleshed in the specific ministries of religious in different cul-tures. Without such interpersonal and self-disclosing communication, true bonding within the congregation will not occur~ and the potential for challenge and affirmation on an international level will remain unde-veloped. International bonding built on the principles of interpersonal and self-disclosing communication stands in stark contrast to a hierarchical model of bonding. In the former, the general administration is charged with fa-cilitating such communication as opposed to serving as the bond of unity in the congregation. Each member shares the responsibility of preserv-ing and strengthening the bonds of congregational unity. Furthermore, each member shares the responsibility for creating new bonds through her sharing of the concrete form the charism takes in her life and minis-try. In other words, the local community and the local church need not become less important to the individual religious, but each one must come to the recognition that there are other local communities and other local churches where needs and attempts to meet these needs are quite different from one's own. Moreover, the full meaning of one's local church and local community can be found only in relationship to the uni-versal Church and the congregation. A religious congregation as a visible, identifiable group of people within the Church serves as a model of the Church. A non-hierarchical understanding of the internationality of a congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the larger community. As such it refuses to allow Challenges Facing Religious Life the universal Church to be understood as the Vatican, but recalls the Pauline understanding of universal Church as the communion of local churches. At the same time, the internationality of a congregation refuses to allow a local church to consider itself an autonomous subdivision of the universal Church. The internationality of a religious congregation calls the Church to recognize that it is at once local and universal. However, a religious congregation can function as a symbol of grace for the Church in this way only if it itself is truly international. In other words, the challenge of internationality for a religious congregation is much the same as it is for the Church--to realize that it is at once local and universal. On the practical level, this becomes the challenge of es-tablishing, maintaining, and enhancing personal, self-disclosing commu-nications. Conclusions If the chosen priority of a religious congregation is the mission of the Church, then this priority will have ramifications on all of life. The challenges facing active religious today flow from this primary commit-ment to ministry. Moreover, the challenges which we examined in this article all seem to have a common thread--that of recognizing oneself as living in relationship. Whether one examines the quality of local com-munity life, the continuation of a congregation and its values through men-toring, apostolic prayer, or internationality, the central challenge is to a life of interdependence. In other words, the ideal of the "rugged indi-vidual" has no place in active religious life. Since many of us have cul-tivated this ideal in order to survive the past two decades in religious life, the challenge to live interdependently is one that strikes at the heart of our hard won "freedom." On the other hand, interdependent living and dependent living are not synonymous. Interdependency demands that we take responsibility for our own lives and at the same time realize that we are part of an intricate web of relationships. Insofar as religious are able to meet the challenges of interdepend-ent living, they in turn will become challenges to others--to the Church, to the nationalistic spirit of governments, to a consumerism which has no regard for non-human life, or the environment. In this way, active religious will serve as symbols of grace, reflecting to all the community of God. NOTES "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," in The Documents of Vati- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 can H, ed. Walter M, Abbott, S.J., p. 468, no. 2. 2 See "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Wol. 45 (1986): pp. 653-668. 3 Origins 13 (1983) p. 136, no. 21. 4 Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 12. 5 As quoted in Morton T. Kelsey, The Other Side of Silence (Paulist Press, 1976), pp. 276-278. The Challenge God, can you wrap your arms around me, hold me tight and tell me that you love me? Jesus, as my lover, can you really do that? Spirit, can you fulfill the need I feel . . . to be touched, squeezed, loved? Make love to me, God, can you do that? Whisper in my ear, Jesus, can you? Tell me You want me as well, Spirit, is that possible? Am I not to be human anymore? Am I not to feel desire? Am I not to remember or imagine? I imagine his pain as the nail broke through his flesh. I remember the words he screamed at his death. My heart is full of desire for him. I am human--so was he. He came to gather us for his Father. He wants me. He whispers to me everyday and makes love to me with every breath I take. He touches me, squeezes me, loves me. Yes, Lord. My God. I believe. I feel your arms engulf me-- Hold me tighter, Lord. I love you, too. Elaine Laws A.S.C. Affiliate Lay Volunteer Liberia, W. Africa Enlarging Perspectives for the Future of Religious Life Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father Shaun McCarty, S.T., teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff member of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. His address is Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. ~l~s we approach the last decade of this century, religious find themselves deeply concerned with and uncertain about the future. The crisis facing religious (mainly in the United States and in western Europe) is marked by a decrease in vocations, an increase in median age, and a growing com-plexity of ministerial needs. Many are experiencing either sadness, fear, anger, helplessness, hopelessness, or some combination of the above! The causality (which I would not pursue at length here) is complex. In addition to a history of change that has marked the evolution of reli-gious life, there are theological reasons for the present crisis such as Vati-can II's accent on the universal call to holiness; pastoral ones such as ex-panding possibilities for dedicated service for laity; and cultural ones such as delayed maturation leading to difficulties for young people in mak-ing lasting commitments. People have different ways of dealing with crisis. One can choose (a) to deny or ignore it with a cockeyed optimism; (b) to blame it on the wrong causes or people; (c) to hanker after "the good old days" (that are yet to come!); (d) to become immobilized and depressed by a fatalis-tic cynicism; (e) to engage in narcissistic introspection and breast-beating; (f) myopically to limit one's perspective or to focus on the wrong issues. None of these alternatives is constructive. My contention is that religious life is in transition and that we need 15 Review for Religious, January-February 1990 a strategy for living in a transitional period. As a first step in developing such a strategy, I would suggest enlarging one's perspectives so as to face the future with hope. By "perspective" I mean the scope or hori-zon of a person's or a group's vision whereby one is enabled to perceive context, allowing for a sense of proportion and within which one can fo-cus attention and energy. Context enables one to see something in its re-lationship rather than in isolation. This, in turn, allows it to be seen in proportion to its real significance. Within proper context, one can then choose to focus on the right issues. It is also my contention that, though painful, crisis bears potential for growth. "Crisis" literally means being presented with a situation de-manding decision. The word for discernment in Greek is diakrisis, that is, "a sorting out." It is that "sorting out" that I would like to address. As all Christians, religious have a responsibility to discern the signs of the times in the process of making decisions for the future in a spirit of hope for the coming of the kingdom. So the question is: What help is available in reading the signs of the times that are pertinent to what has always been a changing shape of religious life? My task is to try to provide some perspectives that might enable a hopeful reflection on what we can expect and prudent decisions about what we can do to help shape the future. I will attempt neither to predict nor will I presume to play the prophet. Rather, I will explore some mean-ings and pose some questions that might hopefully expand and deepen perspectives in sharing responsibility for the future. Some Meaning to Broaden Perspectives I would suggest five key areas where broader and deeper perspec-tives might be profitably pursued. They include: (I) the primacy of the kingdom (or reign) of God; (2) a mature grasp of and love for the Church as "Catholic"; (3) membership in interdependent religious community; (4) different approaches to and notions of the future; (5) the cultivation of a mature sense of Christian hope and trust. The Primacy of the Kingdom (or Reign) of God Kingdom (or reign~ of God is a symbol used to convey the mystery of the corporate vision or dream for the future that energizes Christians for involvement in the present. It is the large perspective that embraces all the others. It summarizes the mission of Christ now shared by all. God's reign is already breaking through and manifest by those liv-ing the beatitudes which results in fruits of the Spirit such as peace, jus-tice, mercy, forgiveness, reconciliation, unity, and love. Obviously these Enlarging Perspectives values of the kingdom are not the exclusive property of any group within the Church or even of the Church itself. A Mature Grasp of and Love for the Church as "Catholic" The Church, though not co-terminus with the kingdom, is a commu-nity of disciples called together in Christ to be a visible body united in belief, discipline and worship in service of the kingdom. It is important to remember that the beginnings of the Church (which we continue to remember) were marked by "upper room experiences" where Jesus washed feet as a prelude to Eucharist and where the Holy Spirit descended upon disciples who had gathered in fear and confusion to be empowered for the mission of proclaiming the Good News of the kingdom. "Catholic" is a designation that indicates the universality of the Church's scope; its quest for unity, yet respect for differences; its inclu-siveness of peoples and cultures; and its ability to recognize and to re-spect kingdom values wherever they are found. The term "Catholic" is opposed to insular, parochial, provincial, or sectarian attitudes. A mature love for the Church means accepting her in both her graced and flawed condition; being faithful to her in attempting to personalize the institution as others experience Church in our ministry to them; and working prophetically from within the perennial tasks of renewal (begin-ning with ourselves!). Membership in Interdependent Religious Community Religious life is an ecclesial way of living a vowed Christian life in community for the sake of the kingdom. It is both charism and institu-tion. As charism, it is a gift of the Spirit to the Church through the in-spiration of a founder. As institution, it is structured according to a rule of life or constitution approved by the Church. Though both charism and institution are important elements to be kept in poised tension, I would suggest that sharing in the charism is morevital to membership than par-ticipation in its institutional structures. It is even a deeper bond than af-fective ties with other members. By membership I mean how, where, and when one experiences a sense of bel6nging to or connectedness within a group. I would also suggest that today, more than ever before, members and communities are called to greater interdependence both within the com-munity and with other groups. By "interdependence," I mean mutual dependency in co-responsible fashion as opposed to an unhealthy inde-pendence or dependence. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 Different Approaches to and Attitudes towards the Future "Future" refers to that aspect of human history not yet fully here except in seed and about which little can be known with certainty, but for which there is responsibility for human choices in the present. There are different attitudes about the future. Some hold that history continues to repeat itself and that managing the future means knowing the past. Others think changes are going to be so radically different in the future that it is senseless to look at the past. There are others still who feel that, as the present has emerged in continuity with the past, so the future will be both creative and new, but will emerge in continuity with the past and present. I believe the latter is more in keeping with the notion of Divine Provi-dence. As a matter of fact, the Latin root of "providence" is "pro vid-ere" which means literally "to see with" or "to see for"--implying the use of dynamic memory in looking at the past, creative imagination in looking at the future, and collaborative action in the pres.ent. Thus Di-vine Providence may be viewed, as God calling creatures to be co-responsible for and to collaborate with the Spirit in shaping the future. There are different kinds of futures including: (a) possible, that is, what could happen limited only by the scope of imagination; (b) prob-able, that is, given current trends, what is likely to happen; (c) prefer-able, that is, what should happen determined by a value system; and (d) plausible, that is, what can happen by attending carefully to the other kinds of futures. I would suggest that, in helping to shape the future, we need to explore the possible, assess the probable, assert the preferable, and attempt the plausible. The Cultivation of a Mature Sense of Hope and Trust By hope I mean trustful expectation for the future, born of faith in promises of the more to come. Just as with faith, I believe there is a first and second naivete of hope. In faith development, what begins initially as an unquestioning and naive faith, after a period of doubt and questioning, can grow into a more critical and mature faith marked by a second naivete. A similar develop-ment can happen in regard to a naix, e hope. An Eden-like expectation of absolute assurance can be shattered by an act of betrayal (real or sup-posed, conscious or unconscious). If the person thus "betrayed" can for-give and effect reconciliation with the event of betrayal, then that per-son can grow to a more mature trust (second naivete) which includes the possibility and risk of further betrayal. I would submit that people can experience corporate as well as individual betrayals, that is, betrayal by Enlarging Perspectives a renewed Church or changed religious community. Some Questions to Enlarge Perspectives (1) Perspectives of kingdom and Church Are we "catholic" enough in our notion of Church? How much do we perceive Church in the first person plural? Do we view both institu-tional and charismatic elements in the Church as interdependent, minis-tering in mutual dependency rather than as competitors or adversaries? As different (and often differing!) individuals and groups in the Church, can we transcend personal and intramural agenda by focusing on king-dom priorities? Does our grasp of Church embrace a missionary dimen-sion as necessary to its fullness? In carrying forth the mission, do we see evangelization as a two-way street, a dialogue in which we need to lis-ten to learn as well as to proclaim to teach kingdom values? Do we value quality of personal evangelization (especially our own !) over quantity of religious practices? In evangelizing, are we able to distinguish Gospel from cultural values? Are we developing a mature love for that Church? Does such love imply placing a priority on our personal relationship with Jesus and com-mitment to the Gospel proclaiming his kingdom as realities that relativ-ize Church membership? In realizing that discipleship is prior to apostleship? In seeing code, creed, and cult as important, but secondary to our experience of God in Christ? Does a mature love for the Church call for recognizing and embracing the flawed as well as the the graced condition not only of ourselves and other individuals, but of the Church itself? Does it mean reverencing the person and opinions of others who disagree with us? Being able to forgive those who wound us? Does ma-ture love prefer invitation to control by refusing to resort to power poli-tics to win the day, even for a worthy cause? Does it include making pref-erential, yet not exclusive options for the poor? Does it call for building bridges between those who have and those who have not? Do we foster mature love of Church by exercising a truly servant leadership that is ready to wash feet? To share Eucharist in life as well as sacrament? To discern the Spirit of God in experiences of life? To recognize, affirm, and enable the use of different gifts for ministry in the Church? Does ma-ture love lead us to avoid elitism and to shun seeking privilege? Are we comfortable enough in our Catholic identity so as to engage in genuine dialogue (in which we listen as well as speak) with other Christians and non-Christians energized by a passion for unity in love as well as truth? Do we acknowledge goodness wherever or in whomever we find it, in-side or outside the Church? Do we acknowledge kingdom values wher- Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ever we find them? (2) Perspectives of religious life: So as to establish a proper context, rather than asking in isolation "What is happening to religious life?", should we be asking, "What is happening in the Church?" And what is happening in the global Church--in Africa, Latin America, Asia, and elsewhere? Not just in the local Church in a given diocese, nation, or culture. Within respective religious communities, do we need to shift focus and to widen horizons? To shift the focus of membership in community from local living to the larger religious community sharing a charism within a context of Church and kingdom? As religious, is there any higher obedience we owe the Church than fidelity to the charism of our community? And, in fact, is that charism the exclusive possession of any given canonical group? Can that same charism be shared by men as well as women? By laity as well as by religious? by non-Catholics as well as by Catholics? If the charism is susceptible of wider appropriation, then is there a responsibility for religious to share and foster it with others out-side their own canonical groups? Could it be that the charism will out-live present structures that embody it? What can we do to discover or to create the conditions for"upper room experiences" so that community gatherings might become energiz-ing and enabling rather than enervating and obstructive? What would they look like in terms of participation? Prayerful mode? Respect for dif-ferent gifts for ministry? Though responsibly planned, with a readiness for kairos moments in which we can be surprised by the Spirit? Agenda with priority on the needs of those we serve over internal concern? Lis-tening with open hearts? How are we dealing with the fear and confu-sion of crisis? How and in what areas can we work in mutual dependence with oth-ers who share our concerns? Where is there redundancy, competition, or unhealthy independence or dependence? Between religious communities? Between men and women? Between religious and laity? Between parish priests and religious or lay associates? Between Catholic and non- Catholic sponsored programs? What kind of support do we need from and can we give to one another? (3) Perspectives of the future and hope for it: Can we resist being victimized by "prophets of doom" proclaim-ing the probable? Are we ready to share responsibility for shaping the future by reading the signs of the times and by making discerned choices for the preferable and plausible futures? Have we grown in a mature Enlarging Perspectives sense of hope and trust? Have we survived real or supposed "betrayal" within communities and/or the Church? How have we reacted or re-sponded? With bitterness? Anger? Resentment? Cynicism? or with for-giveness and reconciliation? With the readiness to enter a more real world? With greater awareness and acceptance of human limitation? With a more mature love of Church? With the willingness to risk in trust-ing again? With the firm belief that, though Jesus has ceased to be vis-ible, he has never ceased to be present? Conclusion Perhaps a fitting paradigm for this time of transition would be the Exodus event? Many, lured by promises, never reached the Promised Land themselyes, but lived and worked that others might? As Sam Goldwyn used to remark at meetings. "For your informa-tion, I have come to ask a few questions!" Perhaps this is a time for hav-ing more disturbing questions than comforting answers. It was Rilke who said the important thing was to love the questions and perhaps someday we would live ourselves into the answers! There might be the germ in that for a strategy of survival for religious during an era of transition: to love and live the questions to~e'ther in hope! Towards A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life John J. Markey, O.P. Father John Markey, O.P., is a member of the Southern Dominican Province. His address is De Porres House; 495 Merritt Avenue; Oakland, California 94610. The authors of the landmark book, Habits of the Heart, present a clear challenge to traditional religious communities which claim to want to "transform" the dominant cultural ethos. ~ It is ultimately up to the vari-ous churches to provide a morally coherent alternative to the radically myopic individualism that has come to so characterize and inform Ameri-can culture. But religion itself has often been both systematically co-opted by this culture, and has reinforced it by providing a rationale for its most insipid implications. It is, therefore, increasingly evident that the churches must begin any wider prophetic role by questioning and re-imagining their own communal life, and the place of the valid insights of individualism within this context. Within the Roman Catholic tradi-tion it is clear that those in religious life have a particularly urgent man-date and rich resources in this regard. There is a growing awareness that any genuine Christian community must be both inculturated and prophetic. This means that the community must define itself within a certain cultural context; it must take seriously and even incarnate the valid insights and thought-forms of the culture. But the community will also necessarily have a countercuitural dimen-sion to it. It will be characterized by a lifestyle that explicitly contradicts some cultural themes and attitudes that are seen to be irreconcilable with gos-pel values. A thorough analysis of American culture would reveal many myths 22 A Trinitarian Model. of Religious Life / 23 and values that need to be challenged and transvalued by the gospel, but no single aspect of American life is as pervasive and dominant as radi-cal individualism. It is fair to say that Western liberal thought revolves around this theme, and that it informs every strain of American cultural life. The deifica~tion of this cultural value has had a destructive impact on American life by creating an ethos where commitment is often unin-telligible, fragmentation and disintegration of family life is unavoidable, and personal isolation is the norm. This is not to say that individualism in itself is the problem. On the contrary, there are many positive and valuable insights attached to this thought-form. Some of the fundamental values derived from individual-ism that religious communities should incarnate are: the emphasis on the value and dignity of each person and the role of the community in en-hancing this dignity; the primacy of the personal, relational, and experi-ential dimension of the community life over against the institutional and structural dimension; and the absolute need for personal manifestation and self-appropriation of community identity, decisions, and goals. Any North American religious community must take the valuable insights of individualism seriously if it truly wants to be both inculturated and pro-phetic. But the community must, at the same time, develop a lifestyle that puts this phenomenon in the fuller perspective of the gospel. Proposal for an lnculturated North American Model of Religious Life Given both the major cultural themes and the major cultural needs and problems, I propose that community should be the rubric around which we redefine our understanding and praxis of religious life at this time. I think that it is this element of religious life which, if properly un-derstood, best encompasses and incorporates the relational, personal, and experiential values that we learn from our culture. It is also community which most clearly responds to the desperate need in our time for a sig-nificant countercultural alternative to radical individualism. It is clear, however, that we must come to a new and meaningful understanding of community, particularly in a Christian and Catholic context, if we are going to develop the coherent alternative we seek. We must rethink tra-ditional understandings of community and communal life in terms that can both express the new insights of the culture while at the same time remaining faithful to the spirit of both the gospel and the broader tradi-tion in regard to community. Along these lines, then, I propose that we consider the Trinity to be the model of authentic Christian community, and therefore the context Review for Religious, January-February 1990 in which we redefine community and community life. I hope to make it clear that a trinitarian model and trinitarian terminology are ultimately more helpful for the task previously laid out than the Christological model on which much of religious life is currently based. Furthermore, I propose that we adopt a modern (though traditionally informed) social understanding of the Trinity that explains the Trinity in experiential terms. Here I am essentially assuming that there are two traditional theo-logical interpretations of the Trinity, that while related are finally dis-tinct. 2 I will try to explain the two lines of development below and then show some of the implications of taking one as our model of commu-nity. It is important to see that the fundamental advantage of this option is that it provides a model of community based on the very life of God as we understand it. In this sense the religious community is defined as an icon of the Trinity, which means that its self-understanding must ul-timately be shaped by its most deeply held theological assertions. Two Approaches to Understanding the Trinity I) Substantial Identity In the West after Augustine, the primary approach to Trinity was to begin with the divine "substantia," the single and simple essence or sub-stance of the Godhead, and then try to explain (generally using a very schematic psychological model) how this single substance could be triper-sonal. So the main focus of this line of development was the attempt to show how the three persons could relate to one common divine sub-stance, which necessarily precluded any multiplicity, while at the same time maintaining a real distinction of persons. This approach was suc-cessful in describing the unity of the Godhead, but ultimately found it difficult to give an adequate account of the relation of persons within this unity. For this reason articulations of this approach often ended in either modalism or quaternity. H)Vital Identity and Mutual Inexistence In the East, following the lead of the Cappadocian Fathers, there was a tendency to begin with the reality of the three persons and then to ar-gue to the unity of the Godhead. In essence, the task of this approach was to show how three persons could be one (rather than how one could be three). Along these lines there were two critical developments. First, Victorinus proposed that the unity of God be described as a "vital iden-tity" of life and action rather than as a "substantia."3 God then was not to be understood as some static essence, but as vitally and dynamically A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 95 alive. The three persons, therefore, do not share a common substance so much as a common identity of life. Secondly, John of Damascus proposed the concept of mutual inex-istence (perichoresis) as the best way to describe the unity of the three persons.4 This meant that the three indwell in one another and compene-trate with one another, as the flame of three wicks can burn as one. This mutual indwelling or inexistence of the divine persons is not a conse-quence of their unity, but the equivalent of it. It is in fact the mutual and complete compenetration of the three divine persons that comprises their essential unity. So here the divine persons literally exist in one another in a vibrant and ecstatic way. The three persons, as incorporeal and fully self-donating, experience an interpenetration and intense empathy that is ultimately a single identity of life. It is then the self-donation of the three persons that makes their unity possible. This mutual self-donation, however, does not compromise the autonomy of each divine person, but is only possible because of it. With-out autonomy no action would be possible, let alone self-donation. This perfect self-donation makes relationships unitive rather than divisive. This means that mutual self-donating relationships constitute the very re-ality of God. By beginning with the persons we come to a radically social under-standing of the Godhead that can in turn lead to a social understanding of created reality as well. God is the supreme communion of three di-vine persons, which humans are called to reflect imperfectly, but sacra-mentally, in relationships and community. If we choose community, then, as the rubric under which to rede-fine religious life, it would seem that the second approach to Trinity is the best model for human and particularly Christian community. I would contend however, that most models of religious life, and particularly the models of community within these, coming out of past paradigms in the West, are based on the "substantial identity" approach. I would like to make a short critique of the understanding of community under this model, and then begin to reinterpret some aspects of community and re-ligious life under this new model. Short Analysis of the Old Model of Community In many ways the old paradigm of religious life and particularly of community is analogous to the substantial identity approach to the Trin-ity. Traditional understandings of religious life tended to begin with the one substance, usually the institutional structure of the community, or-der or congregation, and then tried to fit individuals into this substance. Review for Religious, January-February 1990 So they began with the unity, which in this case tends to be a formal and impersonal unity, to which individual persons must relate. In this model the persons do not relate directly to one another, but instead relate to a certain "thing" called community. Personal relationships within this type of community are then either mediated or accidental. Individuality in this model means that I have my own personal and spiritual life (that should stay within certain boundaries and follow certain rubrics) and that I relate to the group in a certain structured way along the lines of func-tion. In other words, the work that I do is regulated by and somehow re-flects the group. The theological focus and justification for this understanding of com-munity tends to be narrowly Christological. As an individual I follow Christ by joining with a group of Christians who want to follow Christ along a similar pattern. In the West this pattern has often been basically informed by a military model (although it is a caricature to say that one became a "soldier for Christ," and that one joined the "Christian army," these images did seem to be present in the popular imagination of recent generations of religious). This narrowly Christological focus in turn often led to a linear and patriarchal institutional structure within which the individual must fit him-self or herself. This model also left no real room for the Holy Spirit and pneumatology because these tend to disrupt the structures (rules, consti-tutions,. traditions, and so forth) which are the source and focus of unity. In this scheme, then, unity was often equated with conformity to a set and impersonal pattern of common life. The main problem with this model is that it generally leads to one of two understandings of community and communal life, both of which are based on the assumption that there is some "thing" out there called a community that exists apart from the people that make it up. There is, for instance, a Dominican Order out there that somehow exists apart from Dominicans. This ultimately leads to understanding the community as be-ing fundamentally impersonal (which seems self-contradictory). This un-derstanding of community manifests itself in two basic forms, both of which I believe can be described in trinitarian terms. On the one hand, there is a kind of Modalism where each member of the community is just a projection of the whole group. Here each member is really interchange-able with any other member. Personal identity is subsumed in the whole so that my individual personality needs to be altered and re-formed so as to project the image of the whole. Secondly, the term Quaternity can be used to describe an understanding of community where each person A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life is seen to be a distinct member of the community, but there is always something more behind these called "the community." The community is some thing out there which each member, and all of the members as a whole, only represent but never fully embody. Religious Community Based on the Social Trinity Model Like its trinitarian paradigm, this understanding of religious commu-nity begins with the persons, and comes to understand their unity as that of persons sharing a vital identity of life based on mutual self-donation and shared vision. So the source of unity is love and its manifestation is the interpersonal bonding of the members. Although common struc-tures and institutions will arise from this unity to support it, they are not identical to this unity nor are they its source, starting point, or founda-tion. The actual starting point of this model is an understanding of per-sons as ecstatic beings who are most fully persons when they donate them-selves fully to the other in interpersonal relationships. In this sense per-sons can and do exist in one another~dwell in one another--in a way analogous to the way in which the persons of the Trinity mutually inex-ist. So this new model demands that community be understood in radi-cally personal and social terms. This approach effectively means that there is no "thing" out there called community that is essential and un-changeable and is unaffected by the persons who make it up. So there is, for instance, no Dominican order or community out there that exists apart from Dominicans. A consequence of this is that what a community is, or what the Dominican order is, is always changing and developing to some extent. The community is always dependent on the persons that make it up. So the community is always identified with the personal ex-perience of it. Although the community is always changing and developing with the people involved, it should always grow and develop along certain lines or patterns. This is because an essential part of the vital identity of the community will be an apprehension of and a resonance with the identity of the founder and the habitual tendency to live this out concretely over time. Those in community must interiorize this identity, and come to share it in common, as well as be familiar with how this identity has been lived out concretely in its shared history. Nevertheless, the present com-munity must never blindly follow one single concretization, or absolu-tize any past communal manifestation of this identity. The difference between this. and the older Christological model is that this model is profoundly pneumatological. Here to follow Christ Review for Religious, January-February 1990 means, first of all, to take on the mind of Christ, and this in turn means to be radically open to the Holy Spirit and the newness of mind that this entails. Taking on this mind leads to a radical personalization because it calls one to complete trust in the Father--which frees each person to be truly open and vulnerable to others. This mind also causes one to re-alize that mutual inexistence is not something one chooses, but is the very pattern and foundation of life (which one can choose to ignore). Be-cause the Holy Spirit is the ultimate personalizing principle, even within the Godhead, we see that the Spirit is the foundation of community.5 All of the above implies that the fundamental starting point for re-ligious community is conversion. The absolute need for the type of con-version process that allows us to take on the mind of Christ is obvious. Community is not possible without the orientation, transvaluation, and radical personalization of both initial and ongoing religious conversion. Any model of community that is not premised on both the initial and on-going need for conversion and repentance is inadequate. Community is not then finally some thing we can do; it is a gift we are given and can only receive. It is also not something we ever have as a finished product or achievement; its fulfillment always lies in the future, though the seeds of this future are already present. So these pneuma-based communities are inherently eschatological communities in that they point to and an-ticipate the fullness of communion in the future. Differences between the Old and New Models in Four Key Areas I) Formation Formation in the Old Model often meant re-formation. It often in-volved taking a person and changing him or her into a certain type of person who acted in a particular way and had a particular mind-set. For-mation in practice was usually indoctrination and incorporation into an institution. So there was a process set up that should end at a certain point with a certain type of predetermined character who could function within a defined system of life. The model of formation was most often seen to be military "boot camp," and the primary method of formation was sensory deprivation and incarceration. Under the New Model, formation would refer more-to the whole group than to the individual person. This is because with each new per-son that enters.the group, the group must re-form, as it were, and estab-lish a new unity. The model for individuals would actually be incorpo-ration, but not incorporation into a preexisting and unchangeable struc-ture. Rather, the process would be one of being drawn into a conscious A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 99 union of persons that entails individual and group conversion. It is a proc-ess of growth in desire and ability to donate oneself to a certain group of people, and for the group to accept and relate personally to the new person, hence redefining itself in terms of that person. The model for for-mation here would be more like the RCIA. It is a dynamic process of conversion and incorporation that challenges both the individual and the community to come to a new understanding of and commitment to oth-ers. Initial formation in a strict sense would include a process of coming to know the vital identity of the preexisting group by coming to know the identity and vision of the founder and interiorizing this vision in a way that causes the person to make decisions that in turn forms his or her character. In other words, there is a sense of taking on a new iden-tity, but this identity is always personal, and builds on the character, per-sonality, and experience of the person. It is neither a process of becom-ing someone wholly different from oneself, nor the same as others; it is coming to a fullness of autonomy and unique identity. It is a process of becoming who the person truly is. It is only this process that can facili-tate Christian community, because self-donation is ultimately based on the fullness of autonomy, not the lack of it. lrI) Vows In the Old Model the vows were generally understood to be explicit commitments to live out a certain pattern of life: This pattern was often based on the narrow, military sense of following Christ that I have al-ready mentioned. The vows were then defined as being those elements that were necessary to maintain a cohesive and successful group identity and purpose. Obedience, therefore, was often the primary vow (for Dominicans it was the only vow), and was understood in the military sense of accept-ing a certain authority structure and chain of command. How one related to the community as a whole. The authority structure tended to take the place of interpersonal responsibility to the community---following orders from legitimate authority, no matter how half-heartedly and passively, was seen to be obedience. Poverty was the commitment to be materially dependent on the whole group, and to accept the priority of the corporate needs over one's own. So one could not own anything personally (that is, neither personal bank accounts nor independent financial resources), although one might have the use of things based on need. Furthermore, this vow was gener-ally regarded as applying only to the individual's obligation in regard to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 material goods, although it was occasionally seen to impinge on the ma-terial wealth of the community as a whole. Celibacy had both a moral and an institutional basis. It was, there-fore, seen as the obligation to abstain from all sexual activity, and to avoid all exclusive relationships so as to avoid scandal to the group's repu-tation and to insure cohesive institutional structures. In the New Model there will always be two aspects to any vow: how it affects and is part of the life of the community as a whole; and how it affects and directs the life of the individual. It is important to see that the vows are primarily commitments to a certain style of life and to cer-tain values and priorities made by the whole community. The individ-ual's vows, then, are the taking on of these group commitments, and mak-ing personal decisions to facilitate these. So when the individual makes vows, she or he is vowing to enter fully into the vows of the whole com-munity, and making a commitment to come to see one's own identity in terms of the others. In one sense there is only one vow, namely the community's vow to enter into an obediential relationship to the Father after the example of Jesus, based on an unconditional trust in the providential care of the Father. This vow then will be most clearly manifest in the community's commitment to poverty. Obedience in this model is first and foremost trust in God. But be-cause of this it is experienced as a trust in and openness to the whole com-munity. In this sense, obedience means essentially "to listen" (from the Latin root), and is most fully expressed by the term integrity. For the in-dividual this means that one make the community the priority in one's life, and, therefore, the person should grow, develop, and make deci-sions in true dialogue with the whole community. It means that each per-son forms and informs his or her life by the interpersonal relationships that are experienced as community. As a group, obedience is the commitment to never let institutional structures pass for common life or take the place of true listening, dis-cernment, and consensus building. In other words, it is the commitment to an ongoing and interpersonal dialogue, which is a group commitment, out of love, to live with a certain amount of ambiguity and tension in their lives, even at the expense of efficiency and cohesiveness. The com-munity and the individual fundamentally commit themselves to be open to the Spirit, and to be fully charismatic in the truest sense. Rigid con-formity, mediocre efforts, institutional paralysis, unimaginative and un-creative problem solving, and impersonal decision-making would all be Seen as violations of this vow. Poverty is seen by the whole community as the test and sign of its A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life unconditional trust in God. This vow is based on the assumption that the radical sharing of worldly goods is the fundamental and practical test of both the individual's and community's faith. So this vow on the part of the individual is the commitment to a complete sharing of wealth and re-sources with the others in the community and with those outside of it. It is a vow to hold nothing back. Furthermore, it is the commitment to work, not so that one may accumulate wealth or find personal gratifica-tion, but so that through work one may share with others, and produce fruits to share with others. On the part of the group, poverty is likewise a commitment to a radi-cal form of hospitality that excludes no one in principle, and where pri-ority for sharing is based on need. It also means that the whole commu-nity will work as a way of sharing, and so that it will have something to share. Group "navel-gazing" that does not end in service, wasting money and service on those who do not need it, over-planning for the future security of the group, spending money for services that the group could perform for themselves, and an inability to let go of past successes are all violations of this vow. Celibacy is the vow that facilitates the radical self-donation of one-self to a number of other people, so it is first of all the vow to give one-self fully and personally to the others in the community. As such, it nec-essarily requires that the person forego any fundamentally exclusive re-lationships and the types of physical intimacy that are proper to these. This does not mean a denial of intimacy, affection, and personal rela-tionship-- one is actually committed to these in self-donation--but one chooses to find these and enter into these within the context of commu-nity. This then is the central predisposition of the trinitarian model of com-munity: the choice to seek interpersonal fulfillment in a non-exclusive but fully intense way through community with others. As a community this vow is the commitment of the whole to each person, and to the extension of hospitality to include a personal open-ness to all. So it is a commitment to be inclusive communities that offer human relationship unconditionally to all. Simply living together with a "boarding-house" mentality, refusing to reach out to and even chal-lenge the alcoholic or any dysfunctional member, passive-aggressive be-havior, and remaining separate and distant from people outside of the com-munity would all be violations of this vow. III) Common Life and Institutional Structures As alluded to earlier, in the New Model common aspects of the com-munity life (prayer, study, various practices, and so forth) and the un-derlying institutional structures which support these (constitutions, rules, 39 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 authority structures, government apparatus) are not equivalent to the com-munity, but arise out of it and are meant to serve it. So no elements of the common life are absolute and unchangeable in principle. It is impor-tant to point out, however, that although the institutional structures in the New Model are fluid and open to change, there are some things that they must necessarily exclude. Leadership in this model of community is always a service to the whole that is exercised cautiously and humbly. Any authority structure within the community, therefore, must begin with an unequivocal rejection of a worldly view of power, particularly those models that arise out of a militaristic worldview. Furthermore, there can be no caste systems in community life--seniority, clericalism, and elitism are all worldly views of power. Everyone who has made an explicit commitment to the community has an equal share in and respon-sibility to the common life. So authority structures must always reflect this reality, and must always be open to revision and challenge. In both models the greatest threat to unity is dissent. In the Old Model, dissent was usually seen in impersonal terms, as in dissent from some aspect of common life. To disagree with a superior, to not observe a certain practice, or to disregard a certain law were all acts that were understood to be disunifying. The key in this model then was to mini-mize dissent by insisting on complete, even mindless, conformity on a very practical level to a certain core of ideas and practices. In the New Model dissent is seen in more personal terms as a break-down of the interpersonal bonding and as dysfunctionality. The main source of dissent is the attitudes of persons within the group towards one another. This type of dissent will often hide behind superficial agreement or conformity, but operates at a deeper level to poison relationships and undermine unity. The approach here though is to confront dissent as part of the ongoing need for conversion and repentance for the whole com-munity. This highlights then the absolute need for consent in this model, and particularly for an ongoing process of building consent or consen-sus. So the main emphasis is not minimizing dissent, it is maximizing consensus, which in turn requires that the community be willing to con-front and challenge dissent in a personal and constructive way. IV) Mission and Ministry In the Old Model mission and ministry were the primary focus of re-ligious life in general, and of one's individual vocation in particular. Com-munity, then, had a secondary role and was seen essentially as a means of facilitating mission. The dominant understanding of vocation was that one was called to a certain mission (namely to follow Jesus), and so one A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life / 33 was called to do certain things. One then was to choose a lifestyle that best accommodated and supported what it was that one wanted to do. One chose a community because it best enabled the work that one wanted to do. So community was formed for a certain reason or purpose, namely, because it was the most efficient and practical means to share resources, pool talents, and consolidate authority in order to get a cer-tain mission accomplished. The vows of celibacy and poverty, for in-stance, were often seen in this light: community made possible the kind of work one wanted to do. So this model generally understood mission in an individualistic sense, and mainly valued community for its func-tional role. In the New Model one does not live in community to facilitate work or mission; one lives in community and, therefore, can work and be sent on mission. Community is always primary and chosen for its own sake. Community is chosen because of the people involved; it is the decision to share one's life in a particular way with others. Here the trinitarian emphasis of this model is most helpful. The Trin-ity does not come together in order to create and go on mission. It is in-stead just because of the radical unity and self-donation of the persons to one another that they can create and be sent. The missions of Jesus and the Holy Spirit are the models here. Missions always reveal some-thing about the senders, and what the Son and Holy Spirit communicate simply is their shared life with the Father. It is precisely their shared life that they invite us into. In other words, the senders are essential; there is no mission without being sent. So it is because one lives in community, and because of the graced transformation of experience that this entails, that one feels empowered to go out. And what is shared when one is "out" is precisely the fruits of the common life. Because the Christian community is by nature a char-ismatic community, there are a variety of gifts to be shared. Furthermore, each community, because of its shared vital identity with a particular foun-der, will have a particular charism which both grows out of and shapes the development of the community life. It is then the radical self-donation conversion that sends a person out. So through conversion each person is always moving into wider circles of community. The religious community is in turn sent by the wider Christian community, and so it has a message and a mission also. Under this model, community is experientially prior to mission, and is in fact its source. In the actual life of the community, however, both will be mutually dependent and interrelated. In this sense though, very 34 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 individualistic types of spirituality, even those that allow for some form of community, are called into question. In regard to vocation, this means that one's vocation is primarily understood as taking on the mind of Christ and thereby coming into contact with the life of God within one, and of being called by this realization into relationship with others in a new way. In the context of this new relationship one is sent out to oth-ers. The point is that for those who choose to live in religious commu-nity it is community itself which is the vocation--it is the call. The spe-cific mission or function that one takes on within this context is really the call of or from the community. This call is the claim that members of the community have on one another by virtue of their mutual self-donation. This raises the question of the place of ordination within the reli-gious community. In the Old Model a specific type of work was often seen as the primary vocation, and, therefore, the community was there to support and enhance ordination. The levels of participation within the community were generally based upon the work one did, and so the or-dained occupied a higher level in the communal structure. So ordination tended to be divisive and obscured the priority of the communal life. In the New Model interpersonal relationships are primary. The vo-cation of the religious is to community, and it is primarily the commu-nity as a whole that is sacramental. It is the community which sends the person to do a particular type of work or to function in a particular ca-pacity. Ordination, then, comes from the community and is based both on the needs which the community perceives and on the gifts of the in-dividuals within the community. Ordination, however, is not the indi-vidual's sole possession; it is proper to the whole community and is dele-gated to one or another member as circumstances require. Furthermore, ordination can never be divisive; it can never change one's status within the community; it can only change one's function. Conclusion Those who look upon God as a metaphysical monad flee society to dwell alone with the Alone. [but] those who look upon the reality of God as the perfection of interpersonal communion will discover the divine in community.6 Our vision and image of God is ultimately the matrix around which we shape our lives. Who we are and how others experience us says more about the God we believe in than all the theological discourse we can of-fer. When confronting the challenge, therefore, of redefining our lives A Trinitarian Model of Religious Life so as to be prophetic witnesses to the gospel, the most fundamental ques-tion we must ask ourselves is, "Who is our God?" Likewise, when we truly come to know this God the primary question we must ask is not "What ought I do?" It is instead "Who ought we be?" NOTES J Robert Bellah et al, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in Ameri-can Life (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1985). 2 For a more detailed discussion of the development of trinitarian doctrine see par-ticularly Jurgen Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom (San Francisco: Harper & Row Publishers, 1981); Robert Jenson, The Triune Identity (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1982); and Donald Gelpi, S.J., The Divine Mother: A Trinitarian Theology of the Holy Spirit (Lanham: University of America Press, 1984). 3 Gelpi, op. cit., pp. 13 ! - 132. 4 Moltmann, op. cit., pp. 174-176; Gelpi, op. cit., p. 132. 5 For a further discussion on the role of the Holy Spirit in the Godhead see Gelpi, op. cit., particularly chapter 3. 6 lbid, p. 140. In-Depth Wisdom A tree climbs to the heights because of roots concealed; Waves break in beauty on the shores for there are depths unseen; Mountains rise in loveliness on rock, set fold on fold; Lest we forget as we grow old. Philomena Mary, S.N.J.M. 1420 Mount Royal Blvd. Outremont, Quebec, Canada H2V 2J2 Community--- A Multi-Dimensional Reality Jeanne Knoerle, S.P. Sister Jeanne Knoerle, S.P., is identified with Woods Associates, consultants to non-profit organizations in strategic planning, management, and marketing. Her address is Saint Mary-of-the-Woods; Indiana 47876. Several bits and pieces of experience have coalesced recently to tempo-rarily part some of the mists shrouding my understanding of the word and the reality of community within a religious congregation. They have con-tributed for me what our old Rational Psychology professor, Father McGinnis, would call an "intellectual aha," and I would like to share them. The first piece of experience contributing to this "aha" has grown from my confusion and unclarity about what it means to be a woman re-ligious, committed to a life lived in community. This is not a recent con-fusion. It has been with me (and I know with many others) for some years and is an ambiguity and tension that has been alternately energiz-ing and creative as well as enervating and destructive. So much so that I have come to see the word "community" as representing a reality with so many possible understandings and so many modalities of expression that it has become almost useless as a representation of a concept. Often a group of religious tries to get at its meaning by eliminating all the things it apparently is not--physical things like sharing a com-mon dwelling, sharing common work, doing things together--hoping that in identifying what it is not, they will more easily be able to move to a definition of what it is. When the group does move to trying to define what it is, they often identify it as an invisible bond which ties a group of people together 36 Community---A Multi-Dimensional Reality around shared values, seeing it as expressed not so much in physical to-getherness but in commonness of purpose, in a shared history, in a be-lief in a common tradition. In reality, however, what I find myself doing most of the time is vac-illating between those two extremes, momentarily satisfied but never fully at peace with either. One seems too dependent on a narrow con-ception which can be counted and measured and made explicit. The other seems too vague and unclear, susceptible of such a wide range of inter-pretation as to offer no possibility of an objective, shared reality. I come away with a sense that each of those extremes offers a piece of the truth, an insight into the constantly shifting dynamics of community, but that ultimately there must be some other, fuller definition that incorporates some aspects of each of them. A second bit of experience which led to these reflections has come from my further study of the Enneagram, a personality theory which iden-tifies three interior centers from which individuals draw their energy to cope with the realities of their life. These centers--the head or percep-tual center, the heart or relational center, and the gut or instinctual cen-ter- are each operative within every individual, and are each important to the development of the total human person.Yet each of us comes to favor using one of them over the other two, drawing from it the primary energy for our response to life. Dealing more deeply with this system and how it operates within the life of individuals has enabled me to more effectively step aside and ob-serve the patterns of my own and others' attitude toward life. It has given me a sense of understanding, tolerance, and acceptance of behavior that earlier I had been confused about and often judgmental of. And it has enabled me to see more clearly patterns in the motivations of individu-als and groups where before I had focused primarily on disparate actions. A major spin-off has been to provide me with a more coherent un-derstanding of the wide variations in the ways in which members of a religious community see and respond to the same stimuli. That people responded very differently was surely evident in the past. There were those who thoroughly enjoyed and anticipated the challenge of study in the summer, and those who dreaded the vei'y thought of summertime be-cause it meant they had to study. There were those who loved to volun-teer for infirmary duties and those who hated to. Those who loved most to party, and those who loved most to pray. Why they did so and why I personally responded in the way I did was not so clear. Because the Enneagram is a system built on trying to Review for Religious, January-February 1990 understand the constantly shifting dynamics of the human personality, the answers it provides to "why" we act the way we do are neither sim-ple nor clear-cut, but they do at least provide an overall pattern against which to make some judgment. The third piece of experience I bring to this moment comes from the variety of reading in theology, ecclesiology, and ethics that I have re-cently undertaken, but especially from Avery Dulles' recent book The Reshaping of Catholicism. Father Dulles' book helped to put some, though by no means all, of my frustrations into perspective. It helped sort out and clarify the mean-ing of many of the concepts and experiences which have been so much a part of Catholicism since Vatican II. But the particular insight he presented which connects to the chal-lenge I described earlier, that of defining community, I found in his chap-ter on the Extraordinary Synod of i 985. There, in explaining the themes which emerged from that synod and which were incorporated into its pub-lished Report, Dulles described three schools of thought which existed among the delegates: the neo-Augustinian school which tended to depict the Church as an island of grace in a world given over to sin; the com-munitarian school which tended to depict the Church as the human face of God on earth, in trouble now because of the failure of conservative prelates to carry out the reforms of Vatican II; and the liberation school which depicted the Church as in possession of the wisdom of God and which, therefore, must be politically involved if it is to carry out the work of the kingdom. The neo-Augustinians, putting their accent on worship and holiness, wanted a Church more committed to the cultivation of spiritual union with God. The communitarians, putting their accent on more humanis-tic issues, wanted a Church more involved in the promotion of peace and reconciliation. The liberationists, sharing neither the sacralism of the Augustinians nor the secular optimism of the communitarians, wanted a Church that was confrontational and militant. The Synod dealt with these three points of view, but the commitment of the drafters of the document was not to a presentation of varying points of view and to a clear identification of their points of disagree-ment. Rather the emphasis was on integration, on interrelationship, on allowing the variety of colors to be mixed together on the canvas like a Monet painting, rather than to be identified separately like a rainbow. Therefore, the final Report incorporated concerns of all of these groups, but with none clearly in the ascendance. Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality/39 Dulles quotes the following marvelous sentence, artfully crafted to incorporate the ultimate wholeness which grew from the conflicting worldviews of all of those schools: "The Church as communion is the sacrament for the salvation of the world." It was that discussion about the schools of thought that existed in the Synod, and especially that sentence which seemed so beautifully to cre-ate a whole out of three disparate expressions of the truth, which began to push a pattern more insistently into the forefront of my mind. While the community of a gathering of bishops and the community of a religious congregation are certainly very different entities, and in many ways are not analagous, they do share the reality of being a group of people in relationship to one another, who share a common purpose, a common mission, and a common tradition. Theirs is a more ephem-eral relationship--they are not together often, nor with regularity, nor as a group do they have a specific, ongoing common task beyond the one they are presently fulfilling, though they do share the general task of mak-ing the word of God present in the world through their work as bishops. Nonetheless, it seems to me we can see the conflictual issues of com-munity mirrored fairly clearly in the three schools of thought which ex-isted at the Synod and which were so clearly delineated by Father Dul-les. And those schools fit with a fair amount of cohesion into the three types of centers which are basic to the theory of the Enneagram. The neo-Augustinians, like those approaching life from the head cen-ter, tend to approach things perceptually, more frequently using their in-tellect and their powers of observation to solve the problems of life, be-ing less intensely involved than those in the other centers. Hence they more clearly see the other-worldly aspects of religious life and feel less pressure to commit the community to becoming involved in the concerns of the world, and more pressure to see that it retains its sense of being an effective instrument of salvation. The communitarians, like those approaching life from the heart cen-ter, tend to approach things from the point of view of relationships, con-cerned always with how they relate to others and how others relate to one another. Without a sense of relationship they have difficulty feeling the life in them, and are, therefore, much more concerned with the world outside them than with the world within them. Hence they focus most comfortably on the human aspects of the work of the community. The liberationists, on the other hand, like those approaching life from the gut center, have an instinctual feeling about the World; they have a kind of built-in sense of knowing, the source of which is not al- 40 / Review for Religious, January-Februao, 1990 ways clear, but the force of which is powerful. Hence they have a strong belief in the responsibility of the community to bring justice into the world, to use its resources and its life to make the world more right. Let me use myself as an example. As a person whose energy comes from the heart or relational center, I am most comfortable in the com-munitarian school, concerned with how we as members of a community can better relate to one another and how our religious community can best help other human beings be better, holier, happier, more complete persons. During the last few years I have begun gradually to integrate some of the rico-Augustinian or perceptual worldview more fully into my own, however. Becoming concerned that I had put too much emphasis on the outer world of action, I have consciously attempted to develop the inner, more spiritual aspects of my person. And now I sense in-creased energy emanating from the head center as well. Where I feel least comfortable, however, is in the liberation school. I know intellectually that to become fully integrated I must learn to trust (perhaps even more fundamentally to get in touch with) my instincts. I know I must learn that to touch and release my anger will not interfere with my relationships. I know I must be better able to integrate and act out of my instinctual center, as I have begun to integrate and act out of my perceptual center. Yet I find this center most out of my range of ex-perience and significantly harder to reach. I think each of us--whatever our approach to life--has the same strug-gle. If we want to become more personally integrated, if we want ulti-mately to create a more mature community, we must perceive, then tol-erate, then understand, then fully accept the differing approaches to life which result from using the energy of each of these centers. We must attempt to identify what worldview is ours and, without imposing it as the best and only one, contribute that piece of truth to the Monet canvas of community. But we must also acknowledge what piece of truth we find hardest to accept and struggle to incorporate it more fully into our view of reality. We must acknowledge, if we operate as neo-Augustinians from the head of perceptual center, our discomfort level when the community seems to over-stress a commitmeni to human development, leaving the spiritual aspect of our lives unstressed. We must acknowledge, if we operate as communitarians from the heart or relational center, our discomfort level when we are asked to ap-prove the taking of a community stand, thereby moving to publicly sepa-rate us from others rather than to positively underscore the bonds which Community--A Multi-Dimensional Reality draw human beings together. We must acknowledge, if we operate as iiberationists from the gut or instinctual center, our discomfort level when the community stresses the eschatological, the importance of the kingdom of heaven and the life of the other world, rather than the impor!ance of confronting the evil in this world and the need to see that justice is accomplished in the present. In each case, however, if community is to mirror the full dimensions of our humanness, we must acknowledge that each approach to life does have a piece of the truth. And we must be willing to contribute our own piece of the truth, holding on to it and placing it on the canvas. Then stand back to see the full picture which we have helped to create, accept-ing the contribution of the other truths as well as our own to that full-ness. Developing the fullness of that picture is what community is all about. And since, perhaps more than at any other time in history, com-munity is a concept that is ambiguous, even anomalous, we must be will-ing, as the drafters of the synod document were of the concept of Church, to seek among us a creative and dynamic peace about how we perceive and live it. As we now live in religious communities, however,, it seems to me that we too often speak the words of power than of peace. We fail to en-ter the world of those with whom we share the reality of community, talk-ing too often instead from the protection of our own shell, not really hear-ing, not really understanding the words of those who speak from another worldview. Our primary goal is too often the imposition of our own. Let me return to the initial insight which prompted these reflections-- that the word community has come to mean so many things that it has become almost useless as the representation of a concept. I would like now to modify that insight somewhat to say rather that community is a such multifaceted concept that it can only be captured by allowing its defi-nition to be pluriform. It is perhaps most analagous, not to a Monet paint-ing, but to a hologram---offering only one specific facet to the eyes of the viewer at a given time, yet only complete When seen in its full three dimensions. Perhaps if we can come 'to see our third of the truth reflected in that hologram, together with the other dimensions of the truth we less clearly identify with, we can better allow ourselves to say yes to the varying ex-pressions of community. And at the same time we can come to agree-ment that no one expression is sufficient for the whole. To begin this process, we need to name and claim our own 49 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 worldview, so that it becomes objectified and clear. Then we need to hear others name theirs, and accept the authenticity of their vision as well as ours. Only then can we proceed. For example, from my relational center, from my communitarian worldview, some physical togetherness, some living or working or be-ing together, seems to me to be clearly implicit in the very word com-munity. I have difficulty understanding the more ethereal co.ncept of com-munity which is sometimes outlined in the perceptual or neo-Augus~inian view--that community is a form of bondedness which need not be ex-pressed in our being i.ogether, but rather in our somehow feeling that we are together. And I have even greater difficulty with the instinctual or liberationist concept of community as being strengthened by being against something or someone else. That simply is how I perceive community. It does not mean that I believe I hold the only truth about it. It does not negate other concepts or understandings of community. It simply means that if we ultimately define community without including some aspect ofphysical together-ness I will have little ability to relate to that definition, nowhere to hang on to it. It will not fit within my worldview. I need to correct the narrowness of my vision, not by letting go of it, not by some grand gesture of surrender or denial which will ultimately lead to my feeling at the margins of community or, even worse, alien-ated from it. I need to proffer my piece of truth and then seek to broaden my vision and deepen my understanding of community by seriously study-ing the truths offered by others, ultimately respecting their view of real-ity as much as I respect my own. If we were all to do that in mutual respect for each other's view of what community is, while the resulting hologram of community might not be totally satisfying to any one of us, it could instead offer us a rich and full opportunity to explore and live out its multifaceted reality dur-ing the rest of our lives. Dyads and Triads: The Sociological Implications of Small-Group Living Arrangements Patricia Wittberg, S.C. Sister Patricia Wittberg, S.C., is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Soci-ology and Anthropolgy at Fordham University. Her address is Department of Soci-ology and Anthropology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458. As the number of active members in religious congregations becomes smaller, and as these members become involved in more varied and dis-persed ministries, it is increasingly common to find religious living sin-gly or in groups of two or three. While the personal.and communal im-plications of individuals living alone have been examined to some ex-tent,~ the special social dynamics of pairs and other very small groups have been less frequently considered. Usually, groups of religious larger than one but smaller then eight or ten are treated together under the head-ing "small group living," with little consideration for the special char-acteristics which groups of two or three might have. It would, however, be a valuable exercise to examine these special characteristics, since the recent experience of many congregations has uncovered regular patterns in them. Some "pair" living arrangements--or dyads, as they are also called--have remained stable for years or even decades within a congre-gation, resisting the efforts of community leaders or of the dyadic pair themselves to add a third person. Conversely, groups of three religious (triads) are often unstable, repeatedly splitting into pair and a singleton. The stability of pair members or the frequent group-switching of thirds have sometimes been attributed by others to unhealthy tendencies in the individuals involved--immaturity, perhaps, or excessive dependency. So- 43 44/Review for Religious, January-February 1990 ciologists, however, have found that it is often the mere fact of belong-ing to a group of a given size that elicits certain behaviors from an indi-vidual, independently of his or her personal psychological character-istics. This article will summarize the writings of the German sociolo-gist Georg Simmel on the characteristics of dyads and triads, and will draw some tentative implications of these studies for religious who live in small groups. It is important to emphasize that Simmel viewed his work on the nu-merical composition of groups to be a sort of "geometry of human rela-tions." Just as the properties of a circle or a triangle remain constant whether the actual figure is made of paper or of wood, so the social dy-namics of dyads and triads are inherent in themselves, Simmel thought, regardless of the individuals involved. It is, of course, possible that the members of a particular dyad or triad can disregard the tendencies at-tached to number, especially if they are aware of them. It is also possi-ble that a common ideological commitment, such as the vows in relig-ious life, may override the effects of a given number, to some extent. But the underlying dynamics will still exist, and will result in certain com-mon patterns when many groups are examined. The Dyad A dyad, Simmel stated, is different from all other groups, in that, while outsiders may see it as a unit, from the inside each member sees only the other person, and not a supra-individual collectivity.2 If either individual should leave, the dyad would cease to exist. Each member thus feels herself and her partner to be indispensable, since "for its life the dyad needs both; for its death only one.''3 The dyad is, therefore, more conscious of the possibility of group dissolution, and feels "both endangered and irreplaceable." Dyadic relations are also characterized by greater intimacy than larger groups--it is the uniqueness of these two particular individuals that gives the dyad its special flavor and which can often become "the core value and chief matter of its existence."4 Since only one other.individual besides oneself composes a dyad, the group "does not attain that super-personal life" which the individual feels to be independent of his presence and participation.5 Dyad mem-bers are unable to delegate responsibility to "the group," to expect things from "the group," or to let "the group" get away with some-thing. In a larger group, by contrast, an individual may fail to develop ownership of group decisions, or may passively benefit from her mem-bership with a minimum of personal contributions. Dyads and Triads Dyadic Living Relationships in Religious Life There are both positive and negative implications of the dynamics of dyadic relationships in religious life. On the positive side, dyadic liv-ing encourages the personal assumption of responsibility for the quality of group living. If the house i~ dirty or if common prayer is neglected, there is no one to blame but oneself and one other individual. Dyadic living has also been a fruitful way for religious to develop their ability to achieve intimacy and individual growth,6 psychological capacities that were often stunted in the large institutional living arrangements of for-mer decades. Other aspects of dyadic interactions, however, have at least the potential for negative effects--both for the congregation as well as for the individuals involved. Since the departure of either member de-stroys a dyad, an individual religious living in such an arrangement may have to do a sort of "dual discernment" when considering a ministerial change: taking into consideration both whether it is time for himself to move on as well as whether it is a good time for his dyadic partner to have to find a new living arrangement. For this reason, dyads tend to be the most stable of small groups. Since stability, uniqueness, and intimacy are inherent in the dyadic form, the individuals living in dyads may not necessarily have psycho-logically unhealthy traits, even if they remain together longer than out-siders would deem wise. For those who do have such traits, however, dyadic living will exacerbate them. Furthermore, a mutual dependency may develop within the dyad over time, even if none existed initially. For dyad members who are or have become excessively dependent on each other, dissolution of the dyad (by death or serious illness, for ex-ample) will cause intense psychological distress. There is also evidence that dyadic living can be detrimental to the larger congregation. This is true whether the congregation is following the traditional "intentional community" model or one of the newer as-sociational forms. In an intentional community, members are bound to-gether by a common religious ideology which encourages the subordi-nation, at least in some key instances, of the individual to the larger group.7 Previous research on intentional communities has shown that dy-adic attachments often erode this group loyalty, which is the essential foundation of the communal lifestyle.8 For this reason, successful inten-tional communities have always included some mechanism either to elimi-nate dyads or to subordinate them. Sometimes the suppression of dyads has been heavy-handed and psychologically destructive, as in the at-tempts to eliminate "particular friendships" in pre-Vatican II religious 46 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 life, and at times it has led to unusual patterns such as the forced adop-tion of "group marriage" in the Oneida community. By whatever means, however, no intentional community has ever survived that has allowed dyadic attachment to develop unhindered.9 Many religious congregations, of course, have discarded the inten-tional community model and have adopted a looser form of association. One such model which has been recently advanced is that of "mission" as the uniting principle behind a community. Religious may live and work in widely scattered situations and yet still consider themselves bound together by the shared missionary vision of their founder: Community is not the living situation. It is not all going to Great Amer-ica together, it is not dressing alike, and it is not working in the same facility. Community is the result of our bondedness around a common mission, Christ's mission, the kingdom, according to the spirit and charism of our founder or foundress as experienced in this particular group. ~0 But the very intimacy and uniqueness inherent in the dyad can often eclipse this dedication to mission and attenuate any mission-based bonds to the larger group. If this happens, the dyad will stagnate at the self-absorbed stage which Wombacher says is a danger to those individuals and groups which fail to go outside of themselves in true generative and creative service of others. ~ A dyad that has been extremely stable for a long period of time may make it very difficult for its members to sum-mon the courage to move on. There may be instances where both mem-bers attempt to move together; such endeavors are subject to the same difficulties that married professionals often face in locating two suitable jobs in the same area. This would detract from the mission-bonded con-gregation's ideal of following the leading of the Spirit into the works most needed by the People of God. To the extent that stable dyads form in religious life, therefore, the community--whether a close-knit intentional community or a mission-based association--may be less able to count on the loyalty of its mem-bers. This is especially true since other social mechanisms are simulta-neously conspiring to keep the dyad an exclusive "twosome." The fol-lowing section will consider the addition of third members to a dyad, and the reasons for the instability of this new living arrangement. The Triad There is a qualitative difference between a dyad and a triad; adding a fourth or fifth member to a group does not change it nearly as much Dyads and Triads as adding the third. ~2 For the first time, it becomes possible in a triad for each group member to have two kinds of relationships with the oth-ers: a direct (A~)C) and an indirect (A~)BtbC) one. In a triad, a majority can out vote an individual member, and it becomes possible for the indi-vidual to envision the group existing after her departure. Division be-comes possible among the members: A and B may share some experi-ence, idea, or interest that C does not, while B and C may have some-thing in common that A does not have. This may lead to shifting alli-ances or interest groups, a situation that was impossible in a dyad. Se-crets, too, become possible in triads, and one member may be excluded, to a greater or lesser extent, from group activities. Also, if the original dyadic partners were unequal in some way, adding a third disrupts the subordinate/superordinate relationship---either by increasing the distance between the superordinate and the two subordinates, or by making it pos-sible for the subordinates to combine against the superordinate. Special group roles are also possible in a triad, which could not ex-ist before. Since "there is no triad in which dissent among two of the elements does not occur from time to time," ~3 the third member may be-come a mediator, who can be impartial because she is not involved with either or also is equally involved with both. Another new role is the Ter-tius Gaudens (Rejoicing Third), who profits by maintaining a division between the other two. There are two ways of benefiting from strife among one's fellow members: one can actively pursue some otherwise forbidden interest while the others are preoccupied, or one can passively allow oneself to be showered with gifts as the contending parties com-pete for one's support. To the extent that the tertius has less personally involved in the dispute, he is in a stronger position than the other two, and it may be to his advantage to perpetuate this situation. Finally, the third member may actually employ the tactic of "divide and conquer"-- producing conflict in order to break up an incipient coalition. The dis-ruptive effects of secrets, ~he exclusion of one or another member, re-joicing thirds and divide and conquer tactics mean that, if the dyad is an especially stable group form, the triad is an especially unstable one. Dyads and Triads in Religious Life Because of the inherent dynamics of dyads and triads, two religious living together (and perhaps also working together in a common minis-try) often find it difficult to attract a third person to join them or to re-tain a newcomer who has come, even if they sincerely desire to do so. Initially, this difficulty may not depend on the personalities of the indi-viduals involved, but simply on the disruptive effects of adding a third 411 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 to any dyad. Over time, however, the members of stable dyads also de-velop habits and customs which make it even harder for an outsider to gain entrance, or to feel comfortable once she has. This situation has ob-vious ministerial--and communal--implications. A given school or par-ish may wish to attract new religious workers, yet otherwise interested applicants may be put off by the prospect of joining a preexisting duo. Congregations whose formation programs involve sending prospective members to live on mission with other religious may have difficulty find-ing a place where the new affiliate is not liable to be excluded (however inadvertently) by a dyad or scandalized by the divisions in a triad. Fi-nally, some individuals may gain an undeserved reputation for being hard to live or work with: if a religious tries and fails to break into several successive dyads, or if two dyad members are repeatedly joined by third persons who move out after one year, others in the congregation may as-cribe their difficulties to personal defects on their part. If the failed at-tempts also involve repeated ministerial changes on the part of the per-son joining the dyad, his professional resum6 may suffer. Rapid turn-over may also be a source of scandal to outsiders--lay parishioners, for example, or parents at a school--if the new religious lives apart from the preceding two. Conclusions As religious congregations enter the last decade of the twentieth cen-tury, they will be increasingly faced by the issues which dyadic and tri-adic living arrangements raise. Some communities may wish to avoid the ministerial inflexibility that excessively stable dyads tend to create. For-mation directors may need actively to work for the preservation of larger living arrangements in order to avoid the necessity of placing a novice in a triad. After the novitiate, temporarily professed may find their tran-sition to full community membership and ministry even more stressful if they have to adjust to life with a preexisting pair. On the other hand, joining a single religious (and thus creating a dyad) may result in the young religious beginning this extremely stable living arrangement at the outset of her community life. If dyadic living tends to attenuate the group loyalty even of long-term members, it is all the more likely to do so in new arrivals. Finally, as the members of a dyad age, congregations may find it necessary to provide counseling services when death or serious illness causes the breakup of a pair that has been together for several dec-ades. The obvious solution to difficulties raised by dyad and triad living is to expand the local community to four or five members. This is not Dyads and Triads always possible, however. For one thing, the decreasing number of ac-tive members makes it likely that most ministerial situations will con-tain only a very few religious. This would be especially true in areas out-side of the large cities in the traditionally Catholic Northeast and Mid-west. The trend toward apartment living also fosters dyads and triads, since four- or five-bedroom apartments are rare. In some congregations, a substantial proportion of the members are already in dyadic living ar-rangements, and the community government may lack the tradition of authority to request or require that these grbupings be dissolved. This being the case, dyad and triad living will probably be unavoid-able in religious communities, at least to some extent. There are, how-ever, positive steps which the members of a congregation can take to ad-dress the issues which such arrangements raise. First of all, the records of a community should be investigated, in order to determine whether the abstract predictions of sociological theory about dyads and triads are, in fact, reflected in this particular congregation. Are the living arrange-ments and ministerial placements more stable thaff they were twenty years ago? What is the average size of living groups within the congre-gation? How long, on the average, have dyads been together? How long have triads? The members of larger groups? Which type of living arrange-ment appears to be increasing in frequency? Which types are decreas-ing?~ 4 Once trends have been identified, a congregation may wish to initi-ate a communal discernment process to determine what the effects of dy-ads and triads have been for its members, and whether these effects are desirable or not. The members of dyads and triads, or members who have once tried to join such a living arrangement, could be surveyed for their opinions and insights. Two- or three-person living arrangements could become a topic for chapter or pre-chapter discussion and debate among all the members, since whatever policies a congregation adopts in this regard would have to be owned by the members affected. Some of the possible follow-up actions to this community discern-ment could include the establishment or enlargement of a specific coun-seling or facilitation program to work with the members involved in dy-ads and triads. Triads may choose to make regular and frequent use of a facilitator--perhaps on a biweekly or monthly basis--to alert them-selves to and to deal with instances of divide and conquer, rejoicing thirds, or exclusive factions that may arise. Newly-formed triads-- especially those formed of a previous dyad and a singleton--would be in particular need of this service. Job counseling and placement services 50 / Review for Religious, January-February 1990 may help the members of dyads decide when to move on, and, of course, extensive counseling services would be needed for long-standing dyad members when, as will inevitably happen, illness, retirement or death dissolves their pair. The members of a congregations may decide to place a limit on the number of years that can be spent in a given dyad. Since most congregations no longer intervene so actively in the lives of their members, however, special commur~ity-wide discernment and input would be necessary before such a step would be accepted and owned, especially by the dyads involved. The congregation's leadership would also have to provide information about alternatives--both in living and in ministry--for any pair of its members who did agree to separate and move on. The physical resources available to a congregation should also be ex-amined in the light of what is learned about dyads and triads in the com-munity. In the past decade or so, for example, many parish convents have been closed and either demolished or converted to other uses. Some of these may have been of an ideal size to house a group of five or six. Congregations may wish to identify the houses of the "right size" which are still available, and make arrangements to purchase them, if they do not already own them. Any new living space which is created-- apartment buildings that may be purchased or built, large-scale quarters attached to hospitals or retirement centers that may be modified-- should be created with the effects of dyads and triads in mind. Finally, creative social arrangements may be devised to maintain ties to the larger community in the members of dyads and triads. If a con-gregation has small discussion groups as part of its government process, dyad members may be assigned to different groups. For those orders still involved largely in teaching, summer ministry or vacation opportunities can be advertised, and dyad members urged to avail themselves of dif-ferent opportunities. Dyads and triads living in the same area may be in-terfaced, and perhaps exchange members for a week or even longer. As congregations begin to explore the implications of living in groups of two and three, other practices will doubtless be devised. These should be shared with other communities. Number is not destiny. No inevitable social laws require that a dyad be excessively stable, or that a triad dissolve in acrimony and misunder-standing. As the members of small groups become aware of the tenden-cies involved in their living arrangements, they may be able, with some help from the larger congregation, to deal with the problems that arise. It is hoped that this article will be a first step in the process by which Dyads and Triads religious communities harness the dynamics of dyads and triads and con-vert them to truly life-giving forces for the religious life of the future. NOTES ~ See Sandra Schneider, New Wineskins:Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist Press, 1986), pp. 252-255. 2 Georg Simmel, The Sociology ofGeorg Simmel, trans. Kurt H. Wolff, (New York: Free Press, 1950), p. 123. 3 lbid, p. 124. '~ lbid, p. 126. 5 Ibid, p. 123. 6 Ibid, p. 137. 7 Patricia Wittberg, "Transformation in Religious Commitment," REVIEW FOR RELm~OUS 1985, Vol. 44, pp. 161-167. 8 Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), pp. 116-120. 9 Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (New York: Free Press, 1980), p. 289. ~0 Kristin Wombacher O.P., (n.d.) "American Religious Life Since Vatican II: Change and Continuity." Unpublished paper, p. 245. ~ lbid, p. 235. ~2 Simmel, op cit, p. 139. ~3 lbid, p. 148. 14 Please note that this article does not predict that there will be no stable triads in a congregation, merely that these will be relatively few compared to the number of stable dyads. Large, institutional groups of religious may also remain essentially un-changed over the years. This large group stability would be due, however, not to the abstract effects of number, but to the personal inability of the individual mem-bers to move on, whether because of age, psychological inflexibility, or the simple belief that a given congregational work would not survive were they to leave it. Evaluating Religious Community Costs David E. Meier, S.J. Fr. David Meier, S.J., serves as a financial consultor for the Detroit Province of the Society of Jesus. He is also the treasurer of the Jesuit Community at the University of Detroit. His address is Jesuit Community; Lansing-Reilly Hall; University of De-troit; 4001 W. McNichols; Detroit, Michigan 48221-9987. Point of view is a factor in literary evaluation, an element of artistic per-spective, and a determinant of political affiliation. Point of view is equally an essential criterion for determining what is meaningful in any financial assessment. A number of conditions can be identified which affect the financial data being analyzed. Some of these conditions merely color the data, so that a simple new cast of mind, like the addition of a filter on a camera lens, will provide an improved impression. Another condition may be rather like a fun-house mirror, which distorts the data, often so beyond one's normal frame of mind that the data loses all cogency. 1. Point of View--a Perspective When religious superiors are mystified because they do not find mean-ingful comparisons between per member costs of living in their local com-munities, their point of view is frequently at the heart of their mystery. Failure to advert to their perspective is what leads them to ask, "Why can't we get reliable comparisons between the per member costs at St. Agatha and St. Theresa?" Concern for lifestyle quickly introduces estimates for the amounts of money needed for community support under varied assumptions about a standard of living. Often enough the "common sense" expectations 52 Evaluating Religious Community Costs about a reduction in per diems are contradicted in the reality. Later in this article a number of conditions which merely color data will be examined. These should not be allowed to distract religious su-periors from a key condition which actually distorts the data which enter into their decisions. 2. Full CostDMarginai Cost Distinction Religious superiors should be conversant with the economic distinc-tion between full cost and marginal cost. This is the key condition for avoiding distortion in comparing per member costs for various commu-nity sizes. The effect of this distinction is especially significant when deal-ing with small numbers, say three to forty, which is representative of the size of most local religious communities. This distinction brings eco-nomic discernment down from the clouds to the refectory and the com-mon room. Consider, for example, an education community of thirty members which devotes hours of discussion trying to decide whether it is economi-cally preferable to have ten retired members rive apart in a separate com-munity from the twenty active teachers. Another study tries to make economic sense out of establishing a new community for a few retired members in a parish facility which has more room than is needed by the parish personnel. .The approach to these economic determinations will most often be reduced to measuring the per member cost. And here is where the dis-tortion can arise! Are the per member costs to be measured as full cost or marginal cost units? The difference can be of surprising magnitude. 3. Marginal Cost Marginal cost begins at the very edge of full cost. Whatever is the total cost of providing for the housing, food, personal, institutional, and automobile expenses of a 30 member community constitutes the commu

Issue 47.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1988. ; Communal Spirituai ~Cons01ation The Blessing of ~OId Age . . .= =,.~ ;. ::. -. : ~ - = :"~ i~',~,~ . Love and !~Apostolate Volume 47 Number 6 Nov./Dec. 1988 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REWEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Nov./Dec. 1988 Volume 47 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv.wv.w Fon RvaotGmus; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv.wv.w FOR REt.mtous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints ar~ available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Consciousness Examen: Becoming God's Heart for the World George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenn~r, well known to almost all of our readers, returns to our pages,. His article was first published in the April-June 1988 special edition of Prayer and Service (Rome). He is the director of the Spiritual-formation program at North Ameri-can College; 00120 Vatican City State; Europe. To live contemplativeiy. Ind~ed', ~o become Whom we contempl.at~: this is the invi~gorating experience, the hallmark enterprise and adventure that human existence is all about that for which every human heart is long-ing. The magnetic appeal of~tl~e wholly beloved invites our hearts to a transformation which is never e~isy. But it is so intimately renewing as to be almost irresistible. It is the very heart 9f love. Lovers in their mu~- tual ~0ntemplation are not always explicitly aware of this process of self-transformation into which the~y ~are being swept up. But c,ertain claalleng'- ing momen, ts can starkly reveal the risky loss of self that is involved. And yet the very attractiveness of the beloved provides conviction and moti-vation t6 embrace this risk. in that magnetic moment, love seems an op-portunity not to be m'isse'd. B/at love's opportunity "and risk are also costly--and lovers finally know this. Indeed, the cost involved in the con-templation of lovers strikes to the profound level of self, id.entity. But cost what it may, the belove.d~s attractiveness lures the lover on to surpris-ingly new depths. The beloved in our reflection here is Christ Jesus, our God and Lord, our Brother and, finally, all our sisters and brothers, especially the most suffering ones across all time and space (see Mt 25:31-46). And contem-plative transformation into .this beloved is the fundamental process .in-volved in, indeed it is, devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. It 801 [102 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 is also the process with which examination of conscience is concerned. And there we have at once the premise and the product of this reflec-tion. Both devotion to the Sacred Heart and examination of conscience have a long history in the Ignatian tradition. But they have rarely, if ever, been viewed in relationship to each other. In this article I will try to show how regular examination of conscience facilitates a transforming expe-rience of one's own heart into the beloved of one's heart, the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus Christ. After a brief summary of the contempo-rary renewed understanding of the examen, I will make use especially of some of the graces prayed for in the First Week Of the Spiritual Exer-cises, in order to describe the continuing conversion involved in a regu-lar practice of examen. Finally, in support of the claim that the examen can convert our hearts into devotion to the Sacred Heart of God, I will describe a little of the apostolic power~ the ardent love and thirst for jus-tice, of such a growing and ongoing conversion. Ongoing: for we are never done with love. In recent years there have been attempts, both within the Jesuit heri-tage and within the whole Church, to renew the understanding and prac-tice of examination of conscience and of devotion to the Sacred Heart. Examination of conscienc~ is now more of(en called consciousness ex-amen or awareness examen. ~ In its renewed form the examen continues to bless and sensitize the hearts of many busy believers to the loving pres-ence of God in all of daily life. And while much work has been done in developing a contemporary theological understanding of devotion to the Sacred Heart,2 perhaps the a~tual practice of the devotion is not so widespread as that of consciousness examen, or at least is not widespread among those who frequently make use of consciousness examen. This article, finally, though its central point is to relate the two practices, is concerned more with the personal effects of regular examen than it is with the details of traditional or recent developments in devotion to the Sacred Heart. Renewed Understanding of Examen In the renewed understanding of the examen, two insights are key. First, a much more positive perspective has corrected a past view that often deteriorated into an overly negative, moralistic misunderstanding. Rather than highlighting the bad actions of a day, the examen gives pri-mary concern to what is primary: God's revelation, a steadfast love in Christ Jesus always inviting and invigorating our consciousness. Formal examen sensitizes our hearts to the presence of this love in the ordinary Becoming God's Heart / 803 details of every day. Whenever this love is recognized and responded to, our hearts simply must c9~me aliw~ with joy and gratitude. So gratitude is the major element in the actual time of examen-prayer, as it should also be in our daily lives of faith. And this gratefulness for the wonder of God's love stirs hearts to action. And so gratitude becomes the chief motive from which all ministry pours. As the examen begins to make our hearts more aware of God's .per-during Io.ve, we also begin to recognize flow often and how easily we can b~ oblivious to that love, or how subtly, yet quite stubbornly, we can refuse response to love. This realization, when faced honestly and not rationalized away, can, whether rudely or quietly, awaken our hearts with healthy guilt, with sorrow and repentance. As this article will de-velop later, this, experience of guilt and sorrow is anything but pleasant; yet, as an experience of God's love, it does purify us, it does transform us. And the effect of that can only be a bolder, freer, more wide-ranging apostolic service. Mature faith and discipleship cannot happen without this painful transformation in the humiliating experience of guilt and sorrow. As the repentant sinner encounters God's forgiveness in Je-sus, sorrow is transformed into hopeful, vigorous gratitude--and a burn-ing zeal to serve God's loving justice in our world. In this way, thanks-giving-- the central driving force in the heart of any mature disciple of Jesus Christ--dominates the dailyexamen and fuels its impulse toward loving action. A second insight that renews our understanding.of the examen is the importance of the informal examen, as distinguished from, though obvi-ously not unrelated to, the formal examen.3 The formal examen is a spe, cific time and style of prayer:. In a previous article I described the five traditional elements of such prayer.4 Never meant as an end in itself, this formal practice of examen should gradually .spill over and infiltrate it-self, as a special faith,sensitivity, into a person's daily ,life. And so we come upon the informal examen:a way of living. The informal examen is more a matter of who we.are and who we are becoming, whereas the formal examen is a specifid prayer we regularly practice. Thus a .regular practice of examen can lead to that self-transformation which make pos-sible a genuine faith-sensitivity of heart, a dynamic connaturality with the Beloved, which we are calling here informal examen. This dynamic development of formal examen into informal, into a pervasive faith-sensitivity of heart, is crucial--crucial both to a proper understanding of examen itself and to its role in the human heart's deeply desired experi-ence of love: our becoming whom we contemplate. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Daily Conversion in Faith Jesus' ministry erupts publicly among the peopl(-inoa great sense of urgency: a wholly new revelation of God's love and the need for reform of mind and heart, if One is to recognize and respond~to that love. It is so clear at the beginning of Mark and in the synagogue-scene of chapter four in Luke. This radical personal conversion of faith is often described in the Scriptures as a matter of repentance. As a conx~ersion that will cost a whole lifetime, 'it continually involves the risking and sacrificing of a temptingly attractive but false, illusory self while radically true and ra-diantly new creation is born in a person's daily response to the quiet ur-genc~ of God's love. But no experience of merely passing excitement will suffice for this. Nor ~can such repentance and radical change of outlook ever be re-duced simply~ tb our own planning and control. A strategy of clear-sighted tactics and of fierce determination will always prove futile all by itself. In fact, if not properly motivated and accompanied by grace, it can actually corrupt the very adventure of faith into something"unwhole-some and unholy. With0ut,a genuin(rexperience of the wonder of God's love, the Gospel call, the call by grace and favor to radical change, can-not be heard, and healthy repentance cannot happen.5 It is the attractive beauty and power of God's love which reveals the inadequacy and sin-fulness of our condition and unlooseris in our hearts a desire to be much more than what we now may be. It is in this way that the w~onder of God's love reveals our sinfulness. And this profound truth, so capable of being misunderstoOd, is always the bedrock of mature spiritual life. God alone sees our sinfulness most clearly for what it truly is: a choice against love. And it is this God who calls us to intimacy in the beautiful revelation of Jesus come among us as forgiveness. Every detail of Je-sus' life, most especially his dramatic experience on Calvary, stretches and stirs 6ur hearts in hope for a new creation, a new life, a whole new self. But repentance, with its'purifying pain and.suffering, is the only way to this urgently longed-for newness. ¯ ~An ,honest repentant.acknowledgment of sinfulness.in the face of such love is neither'obxiious nor easy, because it cuts Our consciousness in humiliation. 'The guilt and shame and the embarrassment that come in the wake of such~an acknowledgment sting and. singe our conscious-ness. In the presence of such love, they make our spirits blush. The pain and hurt will, most often ,~" and quite spontaneouslyl make us wary and seel~ to activate d~fense mechanisms such'~ as the rationalizations of de-nial and the distractions,~not of joy, but of pleasure. These are moments Becoming God's Heart / 805 for careful discernment in the life of any believer, For the humiliating pain of acknowledged sin, as intended here, is not the result of some overly scrupulous conscience. Nor is it the unhealthy guilt of self-hatred. Rather it is the purifying consolation--not desolation, but con-solation~ however scouring--the consoling experience of God calling us to greater love and life and faith. Despite the pain, therefore, this repen-tant blush of heart is a grace not to be rejected. It is essential to any ma-ture faith, to any measured zeal for God's world, to any discipleship that hopes.to brave the road's full distance. The guilt that introduces our embarrassed, repentant response to God'.s great, tender love requires a brief description here. Much past ex-p. eoence of unhealthy guilt has understandably provoked the over-reaction against, even to the l~oint of a dangerous disregar.d, of, ~all guilt as if all guilt were unhealthy. Though unhealthy guilt can surely plague and disi~eart~n.us, yet there is a guilt born of God. A'nd it ~;tings. But for the lover, it also signals the Beloved's presence, a very active pres-ence, a redemptive consciousness, inoviting great~er intimacy in faith with God. Urihealthy guilt is always anxious, wo~:rie~ aboiat self, in excessive fear of punishment, preoccupied with failure, at tim6s verging on despair in the face of some unrealistic pe~rfectionism. But healthy, consoling guilt is always the result of an interpersonal Iov,e .relationship. And it focuses the heart beyond the self, on the Beloved, in painful so~:row for the wound one's lack of love has caused. Healthy .guilt does not despair, nor does it disrupt the deepest peace of the soul. The reason for this is that healthy guilt is always intimately and very positively related to encoun-ter, a repentant sinner's encounter with God's forgiveness revealed and available now in a crucified Son's intransigent love. In the Dying, a New Life But in the tense struggle'of this inner guilt, shame, and sorrow, we usually become aware of the risk and high stakes involved. A self, or some aspect of a self with which we have been enamored, perhaps for a long time, must be let go of, Something must die if the new is to be born. It is a mortifying experience, but, as it is not a mortification sim-ply of our own making, neither can the outcome of it be clearly grasped in advance, It is a moment of perceived high risk. And the helplessness of such a moment, when we are on the verge of letting go of what used to be and are. not yet in possession of what will be, can profoundly daunt and agitate our spirit. Furthermore, it is in no way simply our own power and ingenuity that will create a different future. In the helpless and sor-rowful awareness of our sinfulness, it is only an 'act of trusting abandon- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 ment of self, sometimes done in the dark aloneness of faith, that will al-low the Beloved to gift us with God's holiness, our only true human fu-ture. A process of conversion that has begun in love leads now to even greater love as a beloved God, in that faithful promise which is the risen Jesus, defies all darkness and rejects absurdity and pain as the final word, whether about this world or the next. The heart of God revealed in"Jesus excites our hearts with the invi-tation to a new and brighter future. But only a heart scoured clean in the humiliation of repentance can respond to that invitatiofi. The issue is as profound as self-transformation and as hopeful as a wholly new c?eation. But without a mortified, response to God's loving invitation and without a risky letting go of self, such a future remains simply tantalizing, cheap grace, illusion. The forgiving love of God ~brings th~ process of repentance to a con-clusion o~ lively gratitude, profound joy, and enthusiastic zeal for min-istry. The sorrow of a forgiven sinner is not depressing, however pain-fully purifying. Neither is this sorrow obliterated by the joyous gratitude and zeal for servic~ that realized forgiveness brings. Rather, the humility of a saved sinner, while not destructively focused on the past, neve'r sim-ply forgets the sorrowful memory of forgiven sin. One cannot help but wonder whether Peter in the maturi~ty of his joy, during his after-breakfast walk with the risen Jesus, did not once again find his eyes well up with tears as three awkward questions burned his soul with his own lonely truth, but burned it precisely for the sake of fidelity, the journey in companionship, and, yes, for the great holiness of Peter that lay ahead (Jn 21:15-19). The new self created in God's fo¢giveness is always strongly char-acterized by a profound, joyful thanksgiving for a deed neither deserved nor capable of accomplishment on one's own. This deed of forgiveness and the hope of a new and better future resonate strongly in the repen-tarot sinner's heart, now riveted on the challenging beauty of God's for-giving love, found fleshed forever in Jesus on the cross. And so the whole dynamic of the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises propels a per-son to confrontation, to enlightenment and encouragement before this pas-sionate experience of Jesus on Calvary. Having taken upon himself the sins of all, this Son, anguished in an olive grove over the agonizing pros-pect of a humiliating death, is able to renew that trusting abandonment of self which allows himoto find once again, as always, not previous to, but in the very abandonment of dying, his dear Father. And his beloyed Father blesses this anguished abandonment with a future of absolute full- Becoming God's Heart ness in resurrection. In the face of such enlivening abandonment on Je-sus' part, we can find the graceful encouragement needed for that sur-render of self which repentance always demands. It is at this moment that the graces of fidelity and perseverance take root in the forgiven sinner's experience. And so Jesus' death into the fu-ture of resurrection stands faithfully, for all ages, as God's forgiveness. It gives graceful encouragement to all repentant sinners in this risky and humiliating process of self-transformation. The persevering faithfulness of this new creation, this new heart, will always depend on how pro-foundly, how pervasively transformed the repentant sinner is in the en-counter with God's Word of forgiveness. As we gaze on God's forgiveness in Jesus crucified, besides a lively gratitude and profound joy, our heart knows the expansiveness of a great desire for God in Jesus--an apostolic desire to give ourselves as Jesus did in the ministry of God's forgiving justice. This desire at the end of the First Week continues to expand as the attractiveness of God's love in Jesus is revealed through the remaining weeks of the Exercises. God's Spirit and kingdom revealed so compellingly in Jesus become our whole-hearted desire. To live in daily imitation of Jesus, to serve as an apostle in whatever way God desires, becomes the very energy of our hearts. And yet, as the experience continues, this desire can stretch our hearts still further: we may be so transformed, we may, in such transformation, be so intimately identified with Jesus, that we become and, in the thor-oughly real way the mysticism of baptism and Eucharist accomplish in us, we may be Jesus in and for our world. And so ttie joyous thanksgiv-ing of a forgiven sinner, so much more than .a mere devotional satisfac-tion, sets our hearts afire with such desire for new identity in Christ Je-sus that we become mystical activists, heralds everywhere of the good news of God's transforming forgiveness. This reflection offers the view that consciousness examen may play a role of special importance in facilitating such a process of radical con-version. The profundity and pervasiveness of the transformation spoken of will depend in large measure on a regular practice of examen. And rather than putting a clear conclusion to the process of radical conver-sion, the Exercises provide enlightening direction for the further and con-tinual deepening of desire for this daily identification with Jesus. For this reason, as the formal Exercises conclude and move to become daily life, we are always left with an even greater need than before for regular ex-amen, that we may continue the daily discernment of God's love con-verting us steadily into Christ Jesus our Lord. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Goal of Examen: Devotion to the Sacred Heart of God ,in Jesus Long after the retreat experience of the Exercises is finished, regu-lar examen keeps our heart sensitive and responsive to the attractiveness of the Sacred Heart of God: ifi Jesus.As we have already seen, thanks-giving and sorrow are the two chief affections in faith of the examen-- and the sorrow itself, as we~have also seen, finds its fulfillment in thanks-giving.~ And so it is in. and through its term of thanksgiving that regular cxamen mediates our conversion and growth into Christ Jesus. Through the basic thrust of the ex.amcn, each believer becomes a concrete embodi, merit here and now of the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus. Consciousness examen, therefore, by facilitating the transformation whereby.a serious believer and disciple becomes devoted to the Sacred Heart,is profoundly related tothat same,,devotion.For in this sens~e of the word, devotion re-fers to the fundamental shape and orientation of a believing heart to the Heart of God in Christ Jesus. And this sense of devotion cuts far be-neath-- it does not necessarily deny but rather must root--any specific, traditional devotional details and practices. .~o ¯ The transformation of self whereby our hearts radically become de-votion to the Sacred Heart accomplishes some perceptible results in our lives. Growing integrity of heart, wholeheartedness, Ignatian magnanim-ity gradually centers, unites, and identifies our whole person and pres-ence in the world. A white inner stillness, fanned to burning flame in God's own creative love, radiates an. energy bf, recollection~a collect= edness--that can meld our often fragmentary faith into the Strong, live organism of a life decisively for God. Such wholeheartedness first gives enlightenment, then courage, to-wards a fundamental desire and choice in the direction of the "heav-enly" things of consolation and away from the "earthly" things of deso-lation. These desolate "earthly" things live in our flesh as the seven capi-tal, selfish impulses toward sin that the Christian tradition ~has known so well for centuries; whereas the "heavenly" things of God's consoling love are the opposite impulses which also live in our consciousness where the Spirit of Jesus invites and breathes their confirmation, their development in us, as virtues, as the very shape of our .heart. In the in-terweaving complexity and tangle of our daily consciousness, we dis-cover that the tempting experience of these capital impulses to sin is pre-cisely the battlefield upon which the fidelity of our commitment and de-votion to the virtuous heart of God. in Christ is tested and strengthened. And so it is usually by standing strong against the tempting intensity of lust that the virtue of chastity grows. It is by decisively acknowledging Becoming God's Heart .and carefully standing against the violence of desolate rage that the ten-sile strength of nonviolent gentleness is forged. And so of all the per, sonal and community motions of spirit that impel us towards or away from the justice of the Reign of God. The examen is.daily involvement in this process of transforming the impulsive desolations of our conscious-ness into the deep, consoling devotion and virtue of God's Sacred Heart. Once again, as described earlier in this article, we notice that it is pre-cisely in the dying that the new is born.And what is newly born through these mortifying struggles on the inner battlefield of our heart--the heart of each of us and the communal, societal heart of each group, each so-cial structure--always affects apostolic presence in the world, always af-fects decisively actions for or against God's justice as revealed in the lov-ing Heart of Jesus. Fifially, this conversion into the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus, this process of our becoming devotion to the Sacred Heart, does not displace offr weakness ~vith an arrogant sense of ~Sur own stren~gth. No~, just the o'ppo~site! Maturity in faith is always growth t0 grateful realization both of our weakness and of our dependence on God's love for everything. A steadfast belief in God's love does not r.eplace human weakness. Rather, it helps us patiently to wait upon the Lord and recognize arid cele-brate God's love bringing strength into our weakness. For God's power is at its best in our weakness (se.e 2 Co 12:7-10). It is a power that is needed, for becoming whom we contemplate takes courage, even as it brings energy for it. It is high adventure, with a promised wage of per-secution, to enter and be taken up into the affectivity of Jesus, God's coun-tercultural heart for the world. Consciousness examen, then, is not a way to greater, self-reliant strength. But as its daily practice transforms us into the Sacred Heart, we may become whom we contemplate and so stand in this world as liv-ing witnesses, agents of love, inviting others into God's Heart in Christ Jesus: "Come to me, all you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light"(Mt 11:28-30). And one more time we listen to the Beloved, becoming whom we contemplate: "This text is being fulfilled, today, even as you listen . . . 'The spirit of the Lord has been given 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 4:16-21). I~10 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Through a companionship with Jesus made intimate and tender, strong and apostolically peremptory, through days and years of fidelity to the examen of consciousness, and through the dynamic energy con-tinually released in the experience of forgiven sinfulness, we may come to the apostolic gift which the fidelity of the friends of God can know. In becoming whom we contemplate, we may devoutly, reverently, boldly, and with his thirst for justice become, each of us and together, in the Holy Spirit, God's own heart for the world. NOTES t George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "Consciousness Examen," R~.v~Ew ~oR REt.IG~ot~s 3 I (1972): 14-21. See also the lengthy, very helpful article of David Keith Townsend, S.J., "The Examen Re-Examined," CIS 18, 2 (1987): 11-64. 2 Annice Callahan, R.S.C.J., Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart: A Re-interpretation of Devotion to the ~a~'red Heart (New York: University Press of Amer-ica, 1985). This book contains references to the essential texts of Rahner on this sub-ject. 3 George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "A Check on Our Availability: The Examen," Rw~w ~oR RE~.~o~ot~s 39 (1980): 321-324. '~ Art. cit., R~vl~.w ~oR R~.~G~ot~s 31 (1972): 14-21. 5 See my article "Forgiveness," Sisters Today 45 (1973): 185-192. Clustering Thomas More Page, C.F.X. Brother Thomas More has written for us before, most recently in our issue of March/ April 1986: "Centering Prayer: A Flight to Reality." He lives at Mission Santa Bar-bara; 2201 Laguna Street; Santa Barbara, California 93105. Three years ago our provincial asked if the members of the province would be willing to commit themselves to form prayer cluster gr.oups dur-ing th~ course of the coming.year. The clusters would be small, six to eight people, voluntary, and would pledge themselves to meet at least twice a year over a long weekend. The timing of the formation of these clusters was just right, for by this time in our history a spirit of trust had ,been developed among the brothers, largely as the result of several provincial gatherings which were organized along different lines from provincial chapters. Provincial chap-ters consisted of a number of elected delegates who deliberated in a for-mal and businesslike manner over a prepared agenda, generally using par-liamentary procedures or "processes" for handling this agenda. The "gatherings," on the other hand, were open to all members and were constructed around themes which were meant to evoke a personal and communal faith-response within the ambience of prayer, personal and communal, with emphasis on our commonality as brothers. Within this framework we related our struggles and successes, recalled our sinful and graceful history, and spent blocks of time in prayerful reflection. Along with appropriate communal prayers composed around the theme of the gatherings, there were carefully prepared liturgies. Some unexpected results came from these new ways of meeting. There was a power released in many that had a healing effect. The prov-ince had experienced a deep division that had a traumatic effect upon the 811 812 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 members, leaving many wounds and a feeling of alienation, along with an unsettling disorientation. Then, also, there was a disturbing loss of identity. But here at these gatherings we were learning to speak a new language--that of faith speaking from lived experience. We spoke from the deepest levels of our lives. We spoke also of who we were. And we listened. In speaking and listening and praying we built up a new rela-tionship with one another andbegan the process of healing and more im-portantly, of refounding and celebrating our identity as brothers. With this healing and rediscovery, the level of trust rose proportionately. Also, an energizing power once more flowed through the province. Having thus rediscovered our identity within the healing and fraternal gatherings, we were ready for the proposal to take the next step of form.ing prayer clusters. The method used to form.the first experimental clusters, three in all, was simple, yet somewhat complicated. We were asked to jot down the names of those brothers with whom we would feel comfortable in such an intimate setting, along with the names of those with whom we would not feel comfortable. The provincial turned the names over to a brother-sociologist, who, after a long Struggle with the assignment, canoe up with three group'ings, ~,hich, ~after some further adjustments, were refined'. The members of the three groups were then asked to begin the process: Some brothers bypassed this process and began on their own. The group I was in has met three°times over the last year and a half. One person had volunteered to prepare th6 agenda for the first session; another, to find a suitable place where the f~icilities were such that they guaranteed the kind of atmosphere needed for this type of meeting. We had agreed that finances should not be an obstacle towards attendance and that, if anyone needed assistance, the group would come to his aid. To dat~, we have met in such diverse places as Loretto, Kentucky; St. Louis, Missouri; and Santa Barbara Mission, California. Our three ma-jor themes were: (.1) Make a review of your life. Isolate one'incident where you had to make a radical decision. How did you resolve it? (2) What has been your experience of God? How has your prayer life devel-oped over the years? (3) What significant things have happened to yot] since our last meeting? Relate an incident of injustice you have experi-enced. How did you handle it? Rather than further describing the mechanics of the prayer-cluster ex-perience, I prefer now to become more personal and isolate three major movements I saw take place. The most singular and overarching move-ment that tied the sessions together was what I would call spiritual inti- Clustering macy, which John Dunne describes as "the heart's desire." 'I had not expected that this would happen, and so it came as a surprise a grace. I was led into the most secret chambers of my brothers' minds and hearts--places that had hitherto been in darkness and inaccessible to oth-ers. To be drawn into a brother's faith experience; to walk with him as he tells me, in language uncluttered by grammatical rubrics, about his personal history--to be drawn into such an intimate circle was to become a witness to how his journey shaped, and molded him. It was to become a companion, a friend, a brother, who has been made aware and has made him aware of the sacredness of his history. He would no longer be alone to those to whom he had opened a clearing where the heart spoke without caution or~embarrassment. Released from the fenced area of private prayer and buried thoughts, each brother opened up the land, scape of his soul, where what was once unspoken, silent, became sto-ries that were, in the words of John Shea, "witnesses to grace, ~tutter-ing accounts, at times,,of,the God whose ways are unknown to us." And after each account, there was a zone of silence more reverent and expec-tant than the hushed, silence that follows upon the last plucked strings of Segovia's guitar. And thus it was that each brother, within the intimate circle of fra-ternal shari.ng, was able to speak without fear,about those things in his life he believed in, knowing that he could do this becau_se he had the sup~ port and trust of his listeners. This spiritual intimacy led to the second movement: a new sense of ideiatity. Each brother spoke in,what Robert Bella calls the "language of the heart," where one is caught up in the restless, flux of thought un-tethered by grammatical ,rubrics. When one heart speaks and another lis-tens, each is .drawn closer together in the bonds of fellowship. The ex-perience of spiritual intimacy made each ,brother feel he was participating in a fellowship in which his identity as a person and a brother was re-captured, maybe even rediscovered. When we were drawn into the feeling level of the brothers as they told their story, there was a shift that brought all the hearers into one com-mon community with common roots. What was experienced was the joy of belonging, with the discovery that "joy is deeper than agony" (Nietzsche). This kind of interchange is what J. A. Appleyard, S.J., would call "agonistic" in the "best sense of the word: it struggles to articulate primary experience, and in doing so it creates an intersUbjec-tive reality, sets relationships of cordialit~y and professionalism on a new basis of experienced faith." Through this deep experience of sharing 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 their faith, the. brothers broke through the polite slogans by which they once related and placed their newly found relationship on a personal level where their faith journeys converged towards the two poles necessary for a humanly growth-producing state: a deep relationship with God and a deep feeling of brotherhood. This senSe of personal and communal identity, this joy of belong-ing, is not something entirely emotional. It is something more than that. Its merit is that it drew the group into the beguiling and dreaming air of what brotherhood can become, where brother relates to brother. As Bishop Tutu once wrote, "You blossom among those who keep affirm-ing." The third movement was the awareness on the part of the brothers that this experience of spiritual intimacy and the rediscovery of their iden-tity' as brothers was not done within a vacuum, but was fashioned from the agenda of the world from which they temporarily withdrew. If one listened closely to their stories, one became acutely conscious that the brothers came to the cluster to gain strength and support to become even more prayerful men of faith who want to'develop a spirituality for jus-tice and equality which is nonviolent, hopeful, courageous, and collabo-rative. They came from their deep involvement in such ministries as: chemical dependency; professional involvement in heavy ethical and medi-cal questions; inner-city and upper-level-income schools; directors of re-newal programs for clergy and religious; organizers of immigrants from Central America. Against this varied background, they spoke of their call and their efforts toward a radical commitment to be voices for the voice-less, prophets in today's Church and world. They spoke of how they might effectively be involved in the women's movement and how they could be brother to them in their struggles; of the issues and the injus-tices which cry out for their voice; of how they might clarify and articu-late a response to the needs of the Church and of society; of how they can speak out and act individually and collectively regarding specific in-justices they see within the Church; of.how they might be able to speak out about the clericalism within the Church and religious orders; of how they can instill in students values opposed to a consumer society and a vision of the universality of the human family. Clustering, then, has been for the brothers a powerful force for sustaining them.in their involvement in the issues paramount in our society and Church. Without this aware-ness, they realize, the clusters could become a cozy and self-~fulfilling affair, hardly any different from social gatherings or an evening of ca-maraderie. ., ~, Clustering What has been the effect of these clusters on the membership? The question is best answered by the provincial who initiated the effort. In a very recent letter, he wrote as follows: "It is clearly evident that the Lord has been blessing us in a particular way over these last years. Our numbers may be decreasing and most of us may be aging; still we are at a depth of commitment and a level of true fraternal sharing that I per-sonally had never experienced before in my years as a Xaverian. I have lived over forty years of very happy times--of real mutual fraternal as-sistance and good-natured camaraderie. However, it is, I believe, only in these later years that we have begun to share what is deepest in our lives, in our thoughts and feelings. It is only recently that we have be-gun to share what happens to us in our prayers, to open ourselves to each other at the depths of our intimate private prayer. The mutual understand-ing, encouragement, and joy that this. sharing has produced in us is evi-dent every time we gather together: it is vibrant, palpable, and promotes further joy. It is true spiritual happiness, a real spiritual consolation." The Sanctuary Lamp Amid the silence of the night the waxen sentinels do not their vigil keep but one lone beacon stirs the midnight air. The flame, so silent her voice yet so dauntless the strength gathered in the surgings of light defying darkness. How hidden the strain of solitude's demands to give with gentle grace life's unseen gift of gold while others bask in daylight's sweet caress. Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 TheMirror in the Field Joseph A. Tetlow, S.J. . , Father Tetlow has worked in the religious formation of junior religious and of theol-ogy students. He is currently spiritual director to the cle~rgy of th, e Diocese of Aus-tin, facilitator of the spirituality program in the Central Texas Pastoral Centel, and tertian director of~the New Orleans Province of the Soc'iety 6f Jesus. He liveg at Xavier Hall; 907 Lydia Street; Austin, Texas 78702. Fvery literate American can rattle off the list of major flaws in the Ameri-can psyche: workaholism, negative self-image, inability to make com-mitments, perfectionism, and so on. We absorb the list from psycho-babble, but we do not accept that these flaw~':are mere personality quirks, "just the way we are." On the contrary, we have the vague but persis-tent sense that not being able not to work, or living continually down on self, or failing in seriously made commitments, and so on, represents some kind of moral or religious wrong. W6' do not, however, know the name of the wrong. I make an attempt here to name that wrong and to diagnose the spiri-tual sickness lurking under workaholism and the rest. Why do business-men who really trust God nonetheless work themselves into coronary care? Why do mature Christians feel that'their prayer is trivial because they do not focus on divine things the way a computer focuses on its data? How can a woman go through a long preparation, soberly take mar-riage vows, and walk away from her Spouse two years later? What would make holy old religious consider themselves worthless? I will contend, first, that a single, serious spiritual failing commonly underlies these spiritual sicknesses. The failing is that we do not believe in and attend to the passionate love of God continually creating each hu-man self. Very likely, many have not even made an adult commitment to a principal foundational truth of revelation: God continues at every mo- 816 The Mirror in the Field ment the Creator even of the free human self. I will argue, secondly, that we have honorable reasons for finding it hard to keep this truth in mind. I will list five. However, thirdly, even if our reasons are honorable, we suffer a good deal because of this unmindfulness. Specifically, we suffer a syn-drome of problems that constantly show 'up in spiritual direction and re-treats, beginning with the perfectionism, negative self-imaging, and workaholism already mentioned and including others. I will list another five that I have observed. These problems, I will insist, have specifically psychological moments, but when we escape our psychological suffer-ing from, say, negative self-imaging, we then face a specifically spiri-tual issue of appropriate self-love. It is the root spiritual problem I am interested in here. To analyze it, fourthly, I. will return to and expand on my first point. For I find the root of this whole range of problems in our refusal to accept God's crea-tive loving not in the abstract (we all give notional assent to God the Crea-tor every Sunday), but in the concrete. I mean that we reject God's cre-ating when we choose to dislike, hate, or repudiate the concrete gifts that I am given and .the whole gift that I am. This radical refusal strains or even breaks an appropriate relationship with the self and with God. Finally, I will suggest that in some measure the cure for all of these problems lies in a wholehearted, living yes to the concrete realities in my history, in my life, and in the self that emerges within them. Forgetting the Constantly Creating God. As children we answered the question "Who made me?" with the belief ~'God made me." Now adults, we need to know that the question cannot read who made, but who is making me. l~or we know that it is not the case that G~)d made me in an historical event done with and over. It is the case that God, who is at every moment Maker, keeps on making me. In the fullest sense, my Maker keeps~3n shaping me as a human per-son and as a self. As a child I imagihed that God creates the w,ay rain fills a. vessel" It rains. The rain fills the vessel. The rain stops. The vessel remains filled. So God made me and now I am. This is an infantile conviction we need to grow out of. If I choose adult belief, I must imagine that God creates the way the sun illumines a mirror standing in a field. The sun's light fills the mirror and the mirror shines back. Did the sun stop. shin-ing, the mirror would go blank; as long as the sun shines, the mirror it-self radiates, light. So, as long as God's creating love burns in me, I am coming to be: Did he stop loving me right now--per impossibile, we like Review for Religious, November-December 1988 to think--I would stop right now coming to be. I would go blank. Why go back over these simple truths? Most feel that, put this baldly, they are too obvious to need saying. Indeed they are obvious, so obvious that we let them fade from functional beliefs to mere formali-ties in our faith-life. For God is so faithful and steadfast that we simply and unreflectively take for granted, not only his love, but even more his creating. Indeed, when men and women turn to God today (as at the be-ginning of a retreat, or in the middle of a life crisis), we gladly accept our divine parent cherishing us and we find deep consolation.and mean-ing in the Lord of all things loving us personally. We are by no means so quick to know our God as our constantly acting, all-powerful creator. I do not mean that the indifferent and sinful among us forget God creating. My experience in spiritual direction and retreat-giving leads me to contend that even people who pray regularly live unmindful of God's actiTe creating. Many who make the thirty-day lgnatian Exercises learn at the beginning to bask in God's steadfast love for them, but never ac-quiesce in the principal foundational truth: that what God wants must pene-trate my whole life and my whole self simply because God the Origin keeps on as the First Maker even of the human self as I keep emerging. We have learned in recent decades to take comfort in the thought that I am not yet complete, not yet finished; but we limit the meaning of that to not being finished making my own self, not mindful of the Other who has not yet finished, either. Perhaps we are not mindful of God's making because we get con-founded by trying to figure out how God's freedom and my personal free-dom fit together. We do indeed face some tremendous Speculative diffi-culties in fitting together human and divine freedom, and some people may suffer spiritual problems because of their speculations. But I have only very rarely met the person who labors under a kind of Luciferian aloneness before God, strapped into spiritual inertia by metaphysical co-nundrums. Most commonly, people live unmindful of God creating for deeply personal and experiential reasons, rooted in our current perception of our self and in our appreciation (or lack of it) of our concrete, per-sonal gifts. Honorable Reasons We are not to believe, however, that we fail to live mindful of the passionately making God from dishonest anger or sinful defiance~ On the contrary, I believe that we fail for several honorable reasons. The first, I think, comes from the way we now perceive the self. John Donne has argued that in the twentieth century we think of the self The Mirror in the Field as a reality that each of us brings forth. I am producing, I am making, myself. Our conviction sh6ws up in the way we talk: I have to do my own thing. I gotta be me. I have to be true to myself. I want to be authen-tic. In earlier ages people perceived the self differently. For instance, when Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord," she was perceiving her "self" as the sum total of her human experience. When she said, "The Lord has done great things in me," she was not talking about her little life right then. She was talking about the entire range of her little life history, all of the beginning, middle, and end. When Jesus asked, "What would a man gain if he got the whole world and lost his self?" he was not making an obscure point about some mysterious essence; he was making an obvious point about the man's entire life, his whole his-tory, his full being. Everyone can understand the point that nothing could reward a man for trashing that. We do not think that way. When we talk about our self, we .are talk-ing about something much more circumscribed, and still in process. We feel engaged in that process in every one of our initiatives and responses. We sense that we are bringing forth who I am moment by moment out of our experience, out of our history. So where does God fit in? We find it much easier to think of God as the Maker of things that are finished, and the Maker of things of which I am not the maker. We find it diffi-cult to keep in touch with the God who keeps engaged in making my whole self. The second reason why we find it: hard to keep mindful of this pas-sionately creating Love in us comes out of our relatively new knowledge of depth psychology. We can easily believe, as any child might, that God once created a self whole and intact, on whom others subsequently wreaked havoc. But we find it hard to believe two things: that God could create a self hag-ridden by an unconscious full of horrors and an id ooz-ing unresolved conflicts. And then, that God could actively continue cre-ating a self that learns lusts, neuroses, compulsions, phobias, and addic-tions before it is intelligently free or while it must choose under ruinous constraints. Does God make the self that craves alcohol which destroys that self? In what way can God be responsible for a self compelled to break out in shingles instead of breaking out of an insufferable situation? How is any god involved in creating that self? How could God be creat-ing a lesbian whose unchosen, vehement sexual desires clash shatteringly with her own cherished conscience? Both speculatively and experien-tially, we have trouble finding God's creating love inside the post- 820 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Freudian human personality. Thirdly, I think that we find it hard t~ believe that God actively shapes the self because we are so aware of sin structured into our world and of our own introjection of those structured sins. Unavoidably in my society, I feel certain racial prejudices. I came to understand only as an adult how much I am driven b~ sexism. Again with my society, I am com-ing to comprehend the blindnesses of ageism. Ev.ery day, we Americans feel the weight of the world's wealth, which so inequitably divides hu-mankind. Thus, in vague but poignant ways, we feel responsible for struc-tured sin and guilty for our part in it; and yet we feel quite helpless to change things. Why would a good God be creating oa feckless, con-founded self like mine? Fourthly, we face this business of a negative self-image. I find this ugly self-disvaluing hard to define or describe, but great numbers of pop-psychology books suggest that it is very strong. In books like Theodore Isaac Rubin's Compassion and Self-Hate and M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie, psychiatrists contend that distrust and despising of the self poi-sons the American psyche the way radioactive wastes poison: AmeriCan watertables. And noting the tide of seminars on assertiveness and self-improvement and all the Esalen Institutes around, we are forced to con-clude that something is going on in the self-evaluation of postmodern hu-mankind, and it is not positive. We are all members of David Riesman's "lonely crowd." Just recently we celebrated an anniversary and listened again to "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." We resonated again to the Beatles' famous line: "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?" Indeed; where do they come from? We find it hard to keep mindful that all these listless folk are the current achievement of a pas-sionately loving God. Fifthly and finally, our difficulties are intensified hourly by the ad-vertisers and taste-makers. They persuade us of the self that we "ought" to,be. During the 1930s, practitioners came to believe that advertising could go far beyond merely extolling the virtues of a product. They de-cided that real advertising should make people feel that we truly need what is being advertised, that we cannot hope to live as fulfilled persons unless we are supported by that product. Ever since, that is how adver-tising works~---and it really does work--teaching us to feel out of it, apart~ not fulfilled, without an infinite number of products and services. Since we are effectively made to feel the need of something new just about every week~ we ~.ever can come to feel that we really belong, are included, are coming to fulfillment. So where is the passionately loving The Mirror in the Field God who is said to be at the core of my--empty-feeling, craving-to-be-filled-- self? There are the five honorable reasons why we find it difficult to stay mindful of God creating us right now and to live attuned to the passion, ate love of God burning in our hearts. Of course, even~if theseoreasons are honorable, they do not make it impossible for us to be responsible for our relationships to our self and to our God. The Sin of Our Age And even if they are honorable reasons, we suffer on account of them. We might have good reason for runn~ing' a car off the road, and still fracture our skull. For these five fractured insight~ into the self give us a badly distorted vision of it and make it easy for us to suffer an inap-propriate self-lov6. That inappropriate self-love, I believe, is the root sin of our age and it produces the whole syndrome of spiritual problems that I will come to i'n the next set of paragraphs. We stand under the commandment "Love your neighbor as your-self." We are thereby under a spiritual obligatioh of ultimate conse-quence,~ since the Last Judgmerit will be made in terms of how well w~ have loved our neighbor. And yet we pay almost no attention to that as yourself and we do not know how to love ourselves well. We give our-selves to many fake wa'ys: self-indulgence in drugs and'sensuous living, the narcissisms of body-building and dieting and fashion, the willful search for the perfect mate, and so ow. But Christlike self-love, or wise and fully human self-love? We hardly ~omprehend what it is: : And yet the spiritual success of appropriate self-love has been de-scribed for us iri wh'ole shelves of books. Their distilled wisdom can be put this way: Appropriate self-love begins in approving and growing to like the divine good in myself--the gifts that I have and the gift that0I am. I approve of my gifts in the concrete, not in the abstract, so that I enjoy (as possible instances) my yen to bevice-president or my daily three-mile run or my .hit-and-miss spelling, and I like the self underly-ing all ttiat. I approve of my gifts in ~the actual contexts of my living, both time and place. In particular; I approve the concrete qualities about myself and realities in my life over which I never did have ~ say, which began and perhaps remain outside my personal, free control. So I might have to approve of having Hispanic parents or growing up in Chicago or being male. Every one of us begins appropriate self-love .with this yes. Martin Luther King did not choose to have a minister for a father, or to grow up in the tradition of American black preaching. Geraldine Ferraro did ~122 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 not choose to be born a woman with a swift, articulate intelligence at a time when such a woman could be invited to enter public life. John F. Kennedy did not choose to be born Irish-American Catholic, of ambi-tious and effective parents. Each of these three faced a series of radical choices that added up to saying yes to their concrete gifts, Had King re-pudiated his tradition of preaching, he could have accomplished little. Had Ferraro feared her intelligence, she could not have made history. Had Kennedy ignored his parents, he might well have spent his life in a dinghy off Hyannis Port collecting sunburn. Certainly, he could not have been elected the first Catholic president. God creates and keeps creating each of us in this and that concre-teness, passionately loving us into this human limitation and that particu-lar share of his infinite self. Whai tasks fall to me, then? First of all, the task of loving myself. But if I love myself, then I love a concrete self, a self that God now creates and now loves into being as I am. Plainly, I cannot love what about me is unlovable--my sins and ugly failings. But neither can I allow my sins and failings to make me hate or even dis-like the self that commits them. (Parenthetically, within this discussion the distinction between love and like cannot separate what.is one thing, and covers a rotten lie.) For if I have learned anything at all from the Word of God, I have learned that God has chosen beforehand to love me, a sin-filled self. If I choose to despise and repudiate what God loves, do I not try to make myself better than God? To look at my own case, then, I had to approve of, appreciate, and grow to like an American born as the Great Depression began, of par-ents utterly impoverished by that cataclysm. I had to come to say yes to much else: male and first child; father a champion athlete and mother lu-minously religious; Southern boy and raised in New Orleans with its Mardi Gras mentality; Catholic and nephew of a Jesuit metaphysician. I had learned to hate "Japs" and to admire soldiers when only a child, and also to consider blacks lazy and Protestants strange. I grew in sex-ual orientation, too, before choosing, and in a hankering for books, in a home where mother and father remained lifelong lovers and all the adults were readers. Of course, I have made many choices that modify all that. But none of those choices was wise that did not begin where each of us must be-gin. First to say yes, I am a gift, and then to say yes in the concrete to each of the gifts that I am. Am I tall? Thank God I am tall. Am I short? That is my gift. If I am angry at standing short--at whom am I angry? Who keeps making me short? If I cannot believe that God wants me The Mirror in the Field / 823 short, then I have made my faith fall short, and I will have to believe in a mythical The Force or in Carl Sagan's demiurge, Chance. Again, am I very, very bright? Would I rather not be very, very bright, °and do I talk and act like a dolt to veil my brightness? Whom am I insulting then, but the One who keeps making me very, very bright? Tile most ba_sic truth emerges: In the most radical ways, I am not my own maker. I.~never was and am not now. We all know Isaiah 45:9: "Does the clay say to its fashioner, 'What are you making?' " But we tend to forget, deny, or repudiate the truth that we are still on the wheel and the Potter's hands are still shaping us. "Does the pot say to the pot-ter, 'You have no skill?' " Well, each of us, insofar as we do not say yes to the gifts that we have and are, are telling our Potter that he does not know what he is doing. We enact this repudiation in a number of ways, but we suffer one spiritual illness from the repudiation itself, no matter how we act it out. When any of us rejects God's passionate love, we diminish joy in our lives. Thomas Aquinas felt that anyone who rancorously repudiated God's concrete gifts in the self would lose all spiritual joy. For we do not make our joy; we find it. Joy is like the brilliance of the sun. I al-ways think of it as whet happens to a mirror when it faces towards the sun. SUddenly the sun's light fills the mirror and in instant consequences the mirror radiates abrilliance all around. In the same way, God's pas-sionate loving continually flows in us or we would not be, and the first consequence of saying yes to God's concrete gifting is radiant joy. How the Refusal Branches Out In this atmosphere of diminished joy, the radical failure or refusal to approve of my concrete gifts as comihg from God commonly gives rise to several gpiritual problems. How do I live if I do not feel that I have all that I need or really want? Or take a worse case: Suppose that I live afraid that I do not have the gifts I need, that I am spiritually in-adequate and just not "good enough." Or worst of all: Suppose that I am angry at life and~at God over concrete realities in my life. How would I show that? How would I live that out? I would suggest the following ways. Each way increases in intensity as a person goes from lack of trust in, to.fear of, and finally to disgust with his or her concrete gifts and self. First: laziness. Any of several causes may underlie a given person's laziness. But if people do not feel themselves worth much, or worthy of anything special, they might well act that out by doing little or nothing. Thus, if a high school girl acts lazy in algebra class, she almost certainly 824 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 believes that, being a girl, she could learn little"about it. And the sin-cere and hard-working parish priest who never gets to the prayer he truly would like to make almost surely feels unequal to the'requirements of prayer or unfit to profit from it. Lazy people accomplish nothing because they try nothing; and they try nothing because they. live' with the sense of having no adequate or relevant resources within themselves. Not~ here that some might appreciate tli~eir own personal gifts but think little of the good things of the earth or"Of human artifice. Some, for instffnce, do not see gifts in food and housing. They have all they need and want, but they take it'all for graiited, implicitly, declaring it slight and unimportant. Conseque'ntly, they simply do not feel the hu-man weight of the hunger and homelessness all around them. They are simply lazy in these matters of justice, and that laziness roots deeply in their despising the good things of the e~arth. Second: ineffectualness. If la~zy people attempt nb~t~ing, ineffectual people attempt things but accomplish nothing. They do n6t trust their own gifts enough to create, to produce, to bring forth. I kne~, an artist onEe, a~ European. 'ffho brought all kinds of material into his studio but put nothing out of it. He fooled around wit~ a~t I~ut 'made. little or ~oth-iflg. As it turned out, I~E lived ineffectuhl because he feared that his gifts as an artist had unbreakable ties'to his sexual orientation. He feared that being a successful artist would n.e~essarily'elicit~plJblicly his hcimosexu-ality, which he fehred and hated. More accurately, he hated himself for having homosexual feelings. After he came to live easy and chastely within his sexual orientation, he began producing the art work o~f which he had all alpng been ~capable. And most of us know devout Christians who get on.e spiritual book after another from thei~ Spiritual Book Club and never~ get beyond a. few pages in any of them. Many people ~dopt this way.0f living out their inadequate se!~f-lov~ or their self-loathing ineffectualness who~cannot be on time, or get an article,finished, or per-forum their jobs the way their talents and .intelligence pl~ainly allow. ,Third: negative self-image. So many suffer this~that it;can reason-ably be called the most common, psychological suffering in our culture. Sometimes it see~s as though the whole population were seeking help tow~ard self-affirmation in institutes, workshops, and popular paperback books with titles like Be Your Own Best Friend. Psychologists are be-ginning to see the roots of most addic.tions and compulsions in self-hatred. ~ Note carefully, however, that this psychological problem can and probably does mask a spiritual problem. Once I have outgrown my in- The Mirror in the Field fantile self-distrust or my adolescent self-loathing, and have come to an adult self-possession and self-approval, I am then free in facing ,relig-ious and spiritu~il reality. Can I--who have found it so easy to feel down on myself--give active approval to my whole history, to the life I now lead, and to myself as God has been and continues to shape me? Thus the problem of a negative self-image transmutes from a psychological problem to a spiritual problem. What do I personally believe about God's creating me? DQ.I feel hope about myself and abgut humankind even in the rush~and torrent of our limitations ands failures? Do I .like the person. God is making me? Can I rejoice in the personalities who burrow into my.eg .o:--or do I insist on more "impr~essivei' friends? Can I approve of and rejoice in those persons whom God has given me to live with and work with? and in "the vast throng of. people" on earth? Probably all of us know some psychologically balanced people who deliberately choose to dislike¢ reject, or despise their history, life, and self. I know'one woman who periodically feels the need to denounce in Savage terms the dedicated women who taught her in grade school. We all know ~men who consider their (quite ordinary and honorable) jobs a degradation. Some see flaws, in the self and vaguely dislike the whole self as a consequen6e--flaws as trivial as fat'hips or shyness or a quick lip. A woman blurted out recently, "I hate myself when I do that." The "that" was a genuinely trivial failing, but she spoke a weighty truth: She does indeed hate herself, and regularly takes the occasion of trivial failing to reassert her hatred. Some even see strengths in the self and hate the strengths and, in them, ,the self. I remember one man feeling,bad about himself becausehe, could "only run three miles a day," and he had passed fifty. The. truth.is that a "negative~seif-image" is one dis, guise that we borrow from our culture in Order to mask our distrust or disapproval of how and what.God is.~.creating us. It is a commonplace'.among us that most of. us find it hard to acknowl-edge our virtues and our strengths. We ,also find it easy to get depressed by our failings. I often.suggest for a period of prayer at the beginning of a retreat the exercise of going over'personal gifts of every .kind, pre-cisely to say yes to God creating me. I find the vast majority of re-treatants unable to stay with this exercise. Why is this? Are these lapses of appropriate self-love mere, ly "psychological" in the sense,that they function less than consciously in the personality? I believe that they are more than that. I believe that they grow from an ongoing option or deci-sion: "I am not much. I am not very good. ! am a nothing." This fun-damental option fractures or even ruptures a person's relationship with Review for Religious, November-December 1988 the self and with the Maker.of the self. It is an offense against, the love of God concretely burning in myself. The option can actually become a repudiation of that creating love. I am afraid it did in'the life of a ex-seminarian who had tried all the drugs and all the sex, and who con-cluded several hours of sharing with the despairing remark, "God made me a piece of junk." Fourth: bitterness and rancor. Some prideful and arrogant people lash out bitterly and destructively when they cannot impose their will on events. But others who live bitter and rancorous lives see everything from the underside. On their tongues every taste of life is bitter; in their eyes every living scene unfolds under a shadow. They aggressively scan events and people for material to "bitch" about. ThEy seem to live to heap up more and more evidence that the'ir world and everyone in it are no good. One ex-priest, for instance, offered to the president of his uni-versity this odd praise about a just-completed.building: "Even I can find nothing to complain about." That man had known for decades that he lived a bitter life, and all he would do about it was to wear a mask of sardonic drollery over his emptiness. His friends all connived in his bit-terness, too, laughing at his lunges and unable to name what made him so rancorous. Yet it was plain: he gave himself to disgust at God's lov-ing creating---of his own artistic gifts, of his self, of the motley collec-tion of men and women around him. A recovering alcoholic, a woman whose children have grown and gone, has decided to live without drink, but has also decided to live feel-ing cheated and shortchanged by her disease. She is what Alcoholics Anonymous calls a "dry alcoholic." She bitterly protests'that she can-not take a drink as can nonalcholics. She demands to be able to take a casual drink and hates that she cannot. Her conversation--on whatever topic--roils with rancor. She certainly does not say yes to a self troub-led by her disease. She plainly repudiates that part of herself and dark-ens her whole life with her refusals. But who creates her alcoholic genes? Who makes a gift of each day she lives? Whom does she offend by re-fusing to rejoice in each of her living days-.'? The bitter and rancorous may seem to hate everyone around them, and may indeed do so, But as "char-ity begins at home," so does hatred. Fifth: workaholism. A lot of holy people work Ioiag, hard days out of sense that their own time is precious and their own gifts needed by God's people. They work in inner freedom. A lot of others fling them-selves into some special work because they truly love and exult in what they are doing. But very many people work and work and work and do The Mirror in the Field / 827 nothing else. They cannot not work. Their work makes up their life and their self. They do not have the freedom to take true leisure--to enjoy, as we say very accurately, themselves. The truth is that they do not en-joy their selves. They do even not approve of themselves, except a little bit when they are exhausting themselves at work. Henri Nouwen tells of a priest who would not, could not, take time in his day to be still and pray and who finally came to admit why: "I am afraid of what I will find in myself." Precisely. Real workaholics fear their selves. They keep producing and producingbecause they do not really believe they are worth anything apart from what they produce. One religious who had badly burned her-self out in twelve years of administration asked, "What am I trying to prove?" She was trying to prove what she did not need to prove, but only to accept: "You are precious in my eyes, and I love you" (see Is 54). The mere attempt to prove that I am worthy of God's creating love stands in direct opposition to acknowledging that his love comes first and humbly acceptipg it. Three other ways that we live out inadequate self-love show up often enough to merit mention, and several minor ways can just be listed. Sixth: perfectionism. Some of us continually place impossibly high goals for ourselves, which "proves" how much we think of ourselves. Then, as a matter of course, we fail toreach those goals, and that "proves" that we are not really what we like to think we are but in fact ~ire not worth much. For the perfectionist, nothing ordinary serves; he or she needs to aim only for the perfect. As an instance: A truly fat man in the.South decided that a man like himself, ought to look like a Califor-nia beach boy. So he.set out to diet by eating only one thousand calories a day, a caloric intake unlikely even for a scarecrow. Within seventy-two hours he found himself back to eating a thousand calories before noon, and, of course, to this day he lumbers around no less large. He does, however, feel more convinced than ever that he is weakwilled and worthless. Why cannot this man simply eat more rationally? Many rea-sons operate, perhaps; but one leadifig reason is that he cannot see him-self simply as a normally rational person. He demands that his mind have despotic sway over his whole self and particularly over his appetite for food. He demands that the physical shape that would emerge from the fat resemble--not an ordinary, regular-sized American male moving to the downside of middle age--but a bronze statue of Hercules by Phidias. He will be perfect! The tr.uth is that with that demand he covers a fear that he can have no kind of reasonable sway over his self and his appe- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 tites. He hides that self-deprecating belief under a cover of perfection-ism. A lot of good,'praying people do the same. One mature and experi-enced nun who ha~l pray~ faithfrilly for years could not shake the feel-ing that'her prayer was "not very good." Her prayer was fine, in my opinioh; what needed spiritual insight and God's gracing was her demand that she pray like Teresa of Avila. This woman had not really been will-ing to approve wholeheartedly her own way of praying, and that unwill-ingness by itself had kept her off center and vaguely unhappy for years. Seventh: lust for experience. We need to note first that~today Ameri-cans place, tremendous trust ih our own experiences and feel keen dis-trust of any "truth" not-arrived at experientially. Further, we can be per-suaded rather readily to try anything, from a drink' or a drug to a new kind of prayer. We tend to subscribe to the pseudomoral dictum that, ~if you are able to, then yowought to expei'ience everything. We :are all in some measure like the'New York woman in analysis who reported her exhaustion to her doctor--too much sex, drugs, dancing, eating,° not enough sleep. The doctor asked her why she' did it,~and the woman bolted up and blurted out, "You mean I don't have to do everything I want to do?" She was in analysis because she was not doing what she wanted to do, but.,what her social group made her feel she ought to want to do. She felt ~compelled to experience whatever the group moved into. 'That compulsivity and obsessiveness grows out of an empty~ center. She did not really know what she, herself, wanted todo in,the depths of her.self; she feared the depths of her self. ~, Many of us give ourselves to experiences that diminish our human dignity or diminish our freedom, as~did the woman in analysis. I know. one couple whose children, now beginning to move into their own ca-reers, have. submitted to eve~ry kind of religious :experience, from CCD at home to charismatic~weekends and the permanent diaconate, because the parents hankered after spiritual"experience, not because the children required anything. Some Catholics roam from liturgy to liturgy,oseeking the ritual that,w.ill fill their "needs"~as though Sunday Mass does not rise out of fullness, 'bUt fills an emptiness. In them, actually, it is made to, occasionally and briefly. Eighth: inability to make commitments. Why have so many failed to make firm, long-range commitments? Among the many reasons, Cas-sian pointed out one very basic reason when he described the gyrovagus, the wandering monk who always came to feel that the'monastery over the next.~hill had a better religious life than the monastery he.live~t in. The Mirror in the Field / 829 So he wandered to the next and the next monastery, hoping to become a better monk. Fundamentally, the monk's problem lies not in his mon-astery; his problem lies in his own self. He does not like the monk he is. He does not approve of the monk he is. Or if he does, he does not want to grow into the man that this monastery, with these monks, at this time, will shape him into. So he moves on again and again, unable to make the crucial permanent commitment. A young Texan turned into a living gyrovagus when he went from a diocesan seminary to a congregation's novitiate to taking vows in an order and then to another diocesan seminary. His disapproval of the way he lived in those places seemed to be of those "monasteries"; actually, it reached deep into his own self. I would not expect ordination to fill his emptiness, and if he does accept ordination, his parishes (a succes-sion of them, surely) will have an impossible time making him under-stand that they appreciate him. Another example of the inability to make lasting commitments: A gifted psychological therapist changed cities several times and kept ac-quiring new skills. He even absorbed thorough training in spirituality and spiritual direction. When he was about thirty-five and weary of starting over again and again, he came to understand that he had never really felt the weight ,and value of his very considerable talents. As he let himself appreciate them withoutguilt, and particularly as he consciously built friendships with highly intelligent and success'ful peers, he felt more and more grateful for his own gifts and freer to rejoice in using them with-out having to feel that he was required to. He also felt himself more and more deeply committed--to his profession, to his faith, to his friends, and to the city where he had settled. Then there is the marriage commitment. We can leave aside cases of psychological dysfunctioning, like the California twenty-year-old who left his often drugged wife three months to the day after the church wed-ding, muttering that he had not known whom he was marrying. He had known, actually, and so had his friends and his parents. His actual spiri-tual problem had been that he had not known that he was punishing him-self by marrying her. Among the sane and whole, every spouse faces bone-deep challenges in living out the marriage commitment. For, once married, each feels invited to be a new person by union and communion with this special spouse who invites him or her. She will at times ask herself vehemently, "Why did I ever marry him?" At those times she will be feeling the stress of still becoming and changing in ways intimate to her marriage that she cannot control. She cannot design to make her Review for Religious, November-December 1988 spouse another person than he is, even though as he is he will give shape to herself. If she truly loves herself as a married woman, she will wel-come those new ways of becoming and growing along with him, saying her yes to her emerging self. In the same way, if a husband deeply ap-proves of himself as husband and likes the man who is this woman's hus-band, he will hardly insulate himself from the summons to grow and change that emanate from this woman as she lives and becomes, even though he has no mastery over the ways he feels summoned to grow and inexorably will at times keenly resent them. So monk and professional and married person all either say yes to an emerging self whose emergence none controls all alone, or say no. Our primordial task as creatures remains intact in and through all our free decisions: to praise God for what we are becoming, reverence his creat-ing, and serve him by following where the Spirit of Life leads us--in the concrete. To this list of eight larger flawed realizations of self-love, various writers add other specific ones. Cassian adds monkish indolence, acedia. St. Thomas adds garrulity, prying curiosity, and true malice. He also lists religious diffidence, which means the refusal to grow in the interior life. Could he speak right now, he might add integralism to that, because the rock-bound conservative often clings to externals like Latin rites or neoscholastic formulations to defend himself against a deep fear that his own faith-commitment and believing would not stand up to current chal-lenges. Some centuries later SCren Kierkegaard explored the "despair from weakness" of those who finally cannot let themselves trust the self that God is creating in them. In their turns, Josef Pieper dwells on one grave inability of those who do not approve of who God makes them to be: the inability to take true leisure. And Sebastian Moore shows that those who feel unlovable do not love anyone or anything very much. All their desiring is pallid, so consistently that he names their condition a spiritual disease: erosthenia, a flaccidity of passion. This makes an impressive list of spiritual problems: laziness, inef-fectualness, negative self-image, bitterness, workaholism, perfectionism, the insatiable lust for experience, the inability to make lasting commit-ments, and also acedia, garrulity, prying curiosity, malice, integralism, the despair of weakness, the inability to take leisure, and erosthenia. Plainly, they arise from many different life experiences and in varied life circumstances. Just as plainly, they have many causes and motivations. But in our own day and time, they all readily grow as it were in vitro, from a hollow self, flooded with the nourishing medium of pitiful self- The Mirror in the Field / 831 disapproval or arrogant self-hatred. This unwillingness to accept the self I am coming to be, which can ripen into a disgust with who I am and even a resentful hatred of myself, very possibly makes up the deepest root of sin in our day and time. The Wholehearted Life In the face of such a list of spiritual problems, any talk about solu-tions would show extravagant optimism. Fortunately, I am not discuss-ing here the solutions of many problems, but the escape from or avoid-ance of a single problem: the radical spiritual one of refusing to accept, in concrete particulars, whom God is making me. But even then I intend not to list all the saving activities we might throw ourselves into to solve that single problem, because that would tend to confirm the very mis-taken conviction that underlies the problem, that our own activity comes first in our salvation. Instead, in this last section, I will sketch briefly and from living mod-els how those people live who are very successfully avoiding or escap-ing this foundational problem. I experience them as, and name them, wholehearted. Not that their hearts beat totally integral and without the murmur of human flaws and failings. Rather, they live out of their whole hearts--their selves--just as they find them in this minute. The whole-hearted might twang like an old player piano, but with every note and chord they give God and the world around them all the music they can pour out. I will speak first about the inner life of the wholehearted and then about its external manifestations. What goes on in their spirit from day to day? First, they say yes to this day, to the gift of it and the gifts in it. They not only "live in the present moment"; they approve of the present moment as of a gift. And in that yes they are approving of their personal history and the life they now lead. More, they choose to live glad to be what they now are and to be doing what they are doing (unless, of course, they have come to a time of decision, which they will perceive more as opportunity than as termination). When they think larger, they do not feel guilty about the plenty and the privilege in which they live. To start, they feel grateful for the earth, and for humankind, and for the universe. They feel desires of many kinds, some of them strong. Among them all, they try to keep their de-sire for God in Christ in first place. For the rest of their desires, they take responsibility as well as they can, enacting those they think authentic Review for Religious, November-December 1988 with courage and with equal courage suppressing those they recognize as drawn from unworthy sources (the Spirit of Darkness or of unruly flesh). In all desiring, what they want keeps them connected with the peo-ple around them and in some appropriate measure with current, affairs~ All in all, their desiring shapes up into a great desire to make things all right for the world and for every single person now in it; but their hop-ing does not depend on immediate success in the eriterprise. The wholehearted live in appropriate autonomy. As teenagers, for in-stance, still coming to be individuals they depend heavily on peer'opin-ion. As young adults, vindicating their uniqueness; they live carefully independent of "popular opinion;" particularly about the moral cruxes in interpersonal relations. As spouses, they give and take in thorough in-terdependence. All along, precisely because they like themselves, they are able to stabilize affective relationships. This liking of themselves gives rise in them to what is sometimes called a'democratic personality structure. Negatively, this means that their personality is not bound down by one need or drive or ideology. The spiritually wholehearted are not broadly compulsive; on the con-trary, they live and move in relative interior freedom. I do not mean that they never have some dominant desire or great enterprise in their lives. Some live outof a profound, specific desire. Neither do I mean that the wholehearted do not sin, ev.en seriously. I have known some who did. They sinned wholeheartedly, and if they repented, they repented whole-heartedly-- hating rather the thing they did than the one who did it. A married man high in a bloated corporation gave himself a year or two of lascivious fornication. When he heard the Spirit (his words) summon him back, he submitted himself to astonishing inconveniences and physi-cal discomforts suggested to him as (a long) penance. Put positively, all of the wholehearted can hold some priority and or-dering in what they want to get accomplished, gladly getting at one goal while postponing others without guilt. They can also respond readily to surprise demands, able to set aside their own agenda when they see that as appropriate and not feeling put upon about it. We need to take care here. In my experience, some of us suffer from one or other addiction or compulsion (neatnik, chocolate maniac, or some less acceptable culturally) and yet live truly wholehearted lives. This is a mystery to me, that we can find ourselves broken and power-less to heal the break and yet lead wonderfully wholehearted lives. I take this as truly suffering from the Original Sin and from all those sins vis-ited .upon us without our approval or connivance, or with our forced co- The Mirror in the Field / 833 operation, by alcoholic parents, sexually addicted elders, neurotic supe-riors, viciously selfish peers, and on and on. Somehow we are sum-moned within the pockmarked life that all of us lead to give our yes to God's passionate loving in us. I do not see that holiness is wholeness. Most of us find ourselves with neuroses, mild or severe, temporary or lifelong. If we can, for all that, love what we find and the One who is making it, then we have begun to live holy lives. There is much more to this, but we cannot ignore addictions and com-pulsions and the yes that those of us who suffer them must say to the self that God is making us. For very many of us find ourselves in this excru-ciating condition. All of us need to remember that at the core of every addicted and every compulsive self--the phobic, the masturbator, the child-beater, even the rapist--the passionate loving of God burns on crea-tively. But each of them stands on the brink of an apparently impassable chasm. For no one can be in touch with that creating love who does not love the self within whom it burns, and such a staggering number of us are taught, subtly.and powerfully and with enormous precision, to dis-like or to hate ourselves. The fact is, social psychologists are beginning to discover, addictions and compulsions normally grow out of an inade-quate appreciation of the self or out of self-hatred. Then how are com~ pulsive people or addicts to think of this? The way all of us think: As I say my yes to God's creating love, I will know that I am humbly truth-ful and wholehearted when I rejoice even while I suffer what I am and what is. I am heroically wholehearted when I can set aside any demand on my self that I myself or any other persons or things be as I think they "ought" to be and can take all as I find it. We all do what Paul did af-ter he had prayed three times and the thorn still rankled. The thorn just kept rankling, and Paul just kept on sinning (by his own testimony); but we have no evidence that he got down on himself for that or any other reason. Paul certainly knew his worth, and that is a great, great virtue. This brings me, second, to the ways a wholehearted yes to the Lord manifests itself externally. The first sign is joy. Let the light bulb accept electric current. In-stantly it is full of light and instantly it radiates that light to all around. In just that way, the wholehearted radiate joy. Even when they find in-justice and disorder, they are filled rather with a sorrow that leads to com-passion that leads to action--than with a sadness that leads to pity that leads to self-absorption. This joy gives the wholehearted a definite, in-viting presence. They like who they are and therefore feel no need to hide or wear masks. They are simply present, shyly if they are shy, brightly Review for Religious, November-December 1988 if they are bright, brashly if they are young enough. Moreover, the wholehearted live an effective life, by which I mean they make things happen. They live content that God is giving them this or that job or task to do, and simply do it. And at the same time, the wholehearted usually have a lively sense of duty and of obligation. They seem to trust their own consciences, and they clearly trust that God is ordering all things sweetly from end to end. So the wholehearted tend to rejoice that they are required to do something or to omit something. They do not have time to regret what they might miss; they are too busy enjoying what they hit upon. Their attitude toward authority shows itself wholehearted, too. Here is a hugely complex business, but let me just say that any who like who they are and what God is making of the world really perceive the work-ing of authority in the world and actually accept the consequences into themselves. They feel the pull of authority where it actually appears, let-ting it instruct their understanding and warm their motivation. They also sense its absence even when someone is throwing his weight around, and if they conform when pressed by raw power, they do it while maintain-ing their sense of self-worth. As the wholehearted grow more and more mature, they can calibrate more and more subtly the weight of authority and their own response to it. I could list a number of other external signs of a wholehearted yes to God's passionate loving. The wholehearted, for instance, show a true love for creation and prefer to honor their environment. The whole-hearted seem able to show benevolence all around, not threatened by the rich or pressured by the poor, gracious to the bright and to the doltish. They tend to learn compassion early in their lives, and empathy, too. They approve of their culture even while rejecting values in it that con-tradict their own. Speaking of Americans, they live very grateful to be called to life in a rich, free, exuberantly creative land, and they show their gratitude not by badmouthing the nation, but by doing what they can to leave it somewhat better than they found it. But let me end by pointing out a nearly infallible sign of a whole-hearted yes to God's creating love: the wholehearted can take true lei-sure. What is true leisure? I find the experts--Karl Rahner and Josef Pieper, for instance--hard-pressed to define leisure, but they are clear that people at leisure are out from under production goals and rigid work-schedules and that whatever activities they might engage in do not pro-duce food and clothing and other things necessary to human life. Nei-ther do those at true leisure lie in passive numbness, their imaginations The Mirror in the Field / 835 blank and their energies depleted. Rather, they typically play or muse or commune with friends or create. In general, leisure means the free en-actment of our whole humanness simply out of joy that we live--in this or that way, here, in this place, among these folk. We take leisure while all our regular tasks wait to be looked after, feeling sure that One watches while we let them go. We evoke leisure, not theoretically, but from the concrete gifts we choose to act grateful for, sensed as rising from the pas-sionate original gift of God's creating love. Those who pray and wor-ship God take the truest of true leisure. The Last Reflection And those who have thought these thoughts about inappropriate self-loathing and appropriate self-love, and felt all these convictions about saying yes to God's creative love burning in the core of their life and their self, have given themselves to true leisure. In the measure that they feel consoled by them, and in the measure that they feel joy rising through them, they are giving themselves wholeheartedly to the passion-ate love of God burning in the center of their selves. They are mirroring back to him the blazing love he radiates to them and in them. They are becoming the mirror in the field. Standing on a Wooden Bridge It creaks now more than it used to . seems I left myself standing here only to meet me farther on here. The swirling water carries my frail leaf far beyond the viewing point. Refulgent water, flow me forth unto the Son! Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 The Addicted/Dependent Minister Thomas D. Noesen, O.P. Father Noesen was a diocesan priest for eleven years before entering the Order of Preachers. He may be addressed at Aquinas Institute; 3642 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. "that our affections kill us not--nor dye" (John Donne) It is no secret that stress and burnout are high among professional minis-ters. Priests, religious, and lay professionals need at times to get out of ministry for their own well-being and to get in touch with their own de-pendencies. Priests are in the top listings of professionals with alcoholic addiction. The present-day minister struggles with human dependencies and addictions which bring persons to a dysfunctional level of service. Henri Nouwen says that we are wounded healers and that sometimes the minister is more wounded than healer. "Physician, heal thyself" is whis-pered by some of the confused congregation, but greater numbers in the assembly empathize with a more human condition. Men and women are getting professional help in residential treatment centers, private coun-seling, and support groups. Dependency and addiction are commonplace for today's ministers. C. S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves says that the problem with ministers is that they treat the people they minister to as "other." This failure is making ministry less workable. The minis-ter need not be a barefoot cobbler. This paper will look at addictions and the minister. (In this text I use the words dependency and addiction interchangeably; this will become more obvious to the reader as the behavioral dynamics are explored.) Granted that we are part of an addiction culture, the minister falls prey to it more often. The men and women in ministry are people-oriented per-sons; some of the most perceptive and insightful members of the popu- 836 The Addicted/Dependent Minister lation are in ministry: They are insightful and perceptive not only of oth-ers and themselves but of life itself. This latter visionary quality can cause much anxiety and insecurity. The primal angst of life's meaning can bring great stress to the ministry professions. Teaching and preach-' ing daily, these people live what many people would only think of at times of birth, death, or personal crisis. This type of stress and iniensity makes ministers prime targets of addiction. The minister is granted trust by many to know their secrets, deepest feelings, and hidden thoughts. Because of intirfi~acy, the minister carries the confidences of hundreds all at one time. It is rather easy for the minister to meet the needs of the oth-ers and to neglect his or her own. Ministers can become victims to their own intensities. Four terms are used in this paper talking of addiction. They are in-dependent, dependent, codependent, and interdependent. Independency and codependency are both unhealthy. The reader needs to know that any-one can be part of all four at once. The healthiest movement is always toward chosen dependency and interdependency. Codependency Many times the minister comes from a codependent background and unknowingly continues the dynamics in ministry. Adult children of al-coholics are common codependents. The traits of codependents are closely connected with the minister. The codependent is: I. usually a very good person, valuable to society, and often ends up in the helping professions. (One study shows 83% of nurses were from alcoholic homes and the oldest children.) Codependents are nice and likeable people. 2. a victim of low self-esteem and self-worth and makes himself or herself indispensable to others. (In counseling, the codependent coun-selor gets angry at the dependent spouse rescuing the addicted spouse. That adds up to three dysfunctional addicts--thi~ two spouses and the counselor.) 3. a good sufferer. These people make "good" Christians, martyrs, and so forth. The unspoken script of the codependent is "I'm good be-cause I suffer so much." 4. the first to volunteer; always wanting (actually needing) to be of service; always wanting it to be noticed that they are exhausted. 5. selfless to the point of hurting himself or herself. Psychosomatic illness is common in the codepeqdent. Life becomes a pain in the anat-omy. There is a need for aspirin, Bufferin, Preparation H, and so forth, in the beginning, and it can build to major medical care over years. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Thes-~'five points can define a messiah complex in a nonreligious ter-minology. A codependent is anyone out of a dysfunctional home; so this term codependent is generic: an embarrassing spouse, children, extended-family members. Codependency even links emotional disabilities to un-known ancestors. So what is the codependent's payoff? The people with whom the codependent interacts become dependent on the codependent; this way the codependent feels needed. Naming the Addictions/Dependencies Since ministers teach the gospel statement that the ff~uth will set one free, denial of addictions should have little space to survive. But nam-ing, claiming, and taming dependencies is very difficult because the de-pendencies are cunning, baffling, and powerful. There are two types of addictions: substance addiction and process addiction. Substance addic-tion is an element that can be and should be totally removed. Process ad-diction is something that will always be present, but needs to be lived with constructively and not destructively. This latter addiction is the thorn in the side of most ministers. Addiction is an exaggerated pattern. Rigorous honesty is the key in reading the following lists. Twelve-step programs use the rigorous-honesty term, and this honesty often needs to come from outside the de-pendent. Until honesty is present, the dependent is a victim. Some common substance addictions/dependencies are: alcohol / sex (cas-ual or recreational) / caffeine / chocolate / nicotine / cocaine/heroin / refined sugar / gambling / marijuana / counter drugs / prescription drugs. Some common process addictions/dependencies are: work or busy-ness / sex (casual or recreational) / negative memories / "prayer" and worry / eating disorders (boulimia, anorexia, compulsive overeating) / religious fanaticism / sports (spectator or participant)/"collecting" de-pendent people / exclusive friendships/the Peter Pan syndrome / the Wendy complex / exercise /reading / attention-rejection-exhaustion / greed (compulsive spending) / control-powe'r~manipulation / success-failure- competition / TV ! sleep / anger-guilt-depression / self-pity and co-pity / anger-denial-control. Ministers are often addicted to ministry itself because they are so needed. To be human is to be dependent, but there is a healthy balance which ministers have an obligation to discern. All helping professionals have a responsibility to get their good feelings somewhere other than their clients. Ministers must know their dependencies well in order to min-ister effectively. It is so easy for ministers to project what they them-selves need onto someone else. Really soon--because of the ministers' The Addicted/Dependent Minister addiction bent--feelings get very muddled and quality ministry is endan-gered. Ministers are constantly dealing with others' feelings and can stuff their own. These stuffed feelings can come out as body illness or inap-propriately elsewhere. For example, for ministers to get charged up in anger with the clie ~nt, or with the client's oppressor, or the client's anger at the Church, or the client's anger at government, and so forth, is eas-ier for them than claiming their own inner anger, guilt, or whatever. Granted that these feelings of the client may be very real, still the "dance" of the dependent minister may be to a different tune than the client is trying to play. It is as if one is fox-trotting and the other is do-ing the waltz. Choosing Our Addictions/Dependencies Dependencies are a given to our human condition. Ministers should be model addicts by example; this is where the newer holistic spiritual-ity models can be most helpful. Ministers need to choose daily, healthy dependencies. To list a few: time alone, prayer, reflection, physical ex-ercise, support groups, non-ministry-oriented hobbies and/or friends, and nonprofessional reading. Healthy ministers continually expand and deepen throughout life--this is an integrating process. Unhealthy minis-ters fragment and splinter themselves to meet their needs of dependency and take a flock of disciples along. Healthy ministers need both to mas-ter and be mastered; unhealthy ministers either master totally or become totally mastered. Remember, extremes mark the unhealthy dependent per-sonality. Often unhealthy ministers want to be appreciated (needed) for their wealth of knowledge, fund raising, generosity, cleverness, organiza-tional skills, virtue, leadership, and so forth. None of these qualities can be considered intrinsically wrong, but the ministers' control of them can take away even God's freedom of their use. This is not to say that good is not accomplished by addi~:tive ministers; it is. The problem usually is the unhappiness of the ministers and not always the results of their min-istry. In our Church many of the most rewarded ministers are the most unhe~ilthy addicts. The Codependent Cast of Characters The alcoholic home has taught us much about unhealthy dependen-cies and the roles the members fall into. The minister may often come from a dysfunctional home that is not necessarily alcoholic. The family characters are listed in their usual order. Often the minister is one or 1140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 more of these characters. Maybe the minister played out one role as a child, a different one as an adult, and maybe even a different role in his/ her professional life. When there is a dependency in a home, the whole family system is dysfunctional. No one escapes and everyone is affected. Those various persons may be described as follows: The dependent(usually a spouse) is the one using the substance around which the whole family unit rearranges itself. The family's individual needs and feelings are not met because of°denial, guilt, and anger. The enabler (usually a spouse) feels responsible for everyone's feel-ings. The enabler usually tries to keep peace, save face, and guard the family secret. The enabler makes ends meet financially and emotionally. The enabler needs to control and needs to be needed. This person thrives on exhaustion. The hero (usually the oldest) tries to keep the family secret by look-ing good at school, work, and so forth. This can be in sports, honor so-cieties, and so forth. The hero is organized, responsibl~, and mature to extremes. The hero is a doer-~cannot stop doing. The hero suffers from fear, loneliness, and stifled anger. The scapegoat (often the second child) is prickly and hard to get along with; he or she appears to be the family problem. The scapegoat often chooses wild friends, gets pregnant in teen years, breaks the law, and gets into substance addiction. Traits of the scapegoat are very diffi-cult and frequently impossible to understand. The lost child (usually the third in birth) often uses isolation for self-protection; lives in fantasy, quietness, and distance; wants to please at all costs; tries to be good but feels bad; has no opinions or feelings to speak of; never causes problems. The mascot (often the youngest) laughs on the outside and cries on the inside; is clumsy, whimsical, and so forth, while trying to focus off the substance; is the clown trying to make the sad family better. This person is hyper, but lonely and scared. He or she is the family medicine man. As ministers try to bring care to a family, the trap may snap and they can easily be caught and overwhelmed. Ministers must therefore have some knowledge of basic dependency dynamics, but, more than that, they should have a keen awareness of their own inner feelings and de-pendencies. They must know their own limitations and be able to say no and to judge when to refer clients. At such times they minister to them-selves. If they do not take care to function at their best, they will be caught in self-pity and/or co-pity games. The minister may say "this whole thing is absurd," "too much The Addicted/Dependent Minister / ~141 analysis," "my past is my past," and so forth. Perhaps the minister is clean and emotionally balanced; that does not mean the parish staff, re-ligious community, and/or office staff share that same wellness. Today more and more ministers are looking hard and long before taking a posi-tion. By the same norms, the employing staffs are screening more be-fore hiring. Many parish staffs are dysfunctional because they are clos-eting one or more unhealthy dependencies. Clinebell (Pastoral Care and Counseling) says that "spiritual vitality and health are contagious; it is caught more than it is taught." Ministers look more and more for an en-vironment of wellness if they themselves are well. The Rocking-Chair Minister Rocking-chair ministers are not on the porch waiting for someone to come and seek help; on the contrary, they are twice as busy as other min-isters trying to get the gospel spread. "Rocking chair' '--because interi-orly they go back and forth like a rocking chair; their feelings and ac-tions are all fuzzy and confused. Nevertheless, they are sometimes bla-tantly forceful people. There are several cycles of feelings and behavior that dovetail together. The following are some specifics of the "proc-ess addiction" mentioned above: Unhealthy Process Healthy Process worry/' 'prayer" anger/guilt/depression attention/rejection/ exhaustion anger/denial/control self-pity/co-pity affirmation/ownership/ integration/letting go anger/ownership/expres-sion/ letting go control/ministry assess-ment/ service/letting go delegation saying no In the following stories, theologies or ministry models vary. But that is not the issue. The issue is the ministers' inner world; that is, the min-isters are not ministering to themselves even though, otherwise, they are very effective ministers. Story A Father Jones worries about his people because they are so poor. They are doing better than they were before he came, and many of them tell him how much they appreciate his concern. He prays that God take care of this poverty and abolish it. Soon he finds himself an-gry at God for not curing the problem, angry at the insensitive bishop and at those in their posh offices for not prioritizing this; he is angry at 1142 / Review for Religious; November-December 1988 the richer members of the parish because they are not removing the pov-erty from their own parish. Burdened with guilt for attacking God, the Church, and his parishioners, Father Jones turns inward; depression and dullness set in and the cycle begins all over again. Father Jones is from a good small-business family that has been reputable in the community for generations. The cycle here is worry, prayer, anger, guilt, depres-sion. Story B Millie is in social-outreach ministry. She started a parish pro-gram and became deanery coordinator in this same area. Now she has founded the diocesan office for reaching out to teenage single mothers, runaways, and abused children. She holds a high profile with the me-dia. It gets money for the project. She loves the attention and limelight, and she feels it is all for Jesus. When given Church honors and civic ac-claim, she rejects it all. Miilie is torn inside between wanting to be no-ticed and disowning the recognition. She has been taking medicine for what her doctor calls exhaustion. Millie has tried to explain to her doc-tor that he is indispensable at this time; she will back off later when the time is right, Millie's dad was an alcoholic, but he has been sober since she was in the first grade. The unhealthy cycle here is attention, rejec-tion, and exhaustion. Story C Tyler is one of those rare, always smiling ministers who do very well with youth. One of his personal goals for youth is sacred space. In both parishes where he has been, he had small, multipurpose rooms that served for recreation and worship space. In the one parish there was a room with a large wooden carved crucifix before the youth took it over; in the other parish, a family had donated a large crucifix in memory of their daughter, killed in a summer outing. In both places Tyler went rounds over the crucifix issue. Always pleasant, he demanded a risen Christ figure. He said we are about resurrection and not all tfiis pain. "I believe it is Easter we are to remember; let's not make our kids hold on to Good Friday." Tyler escalated these issues to maximum polarization; the people became divided. Tyler had theologized his anger, stuffing it away, and used Christ to deny it; using his charism and position, he con-trolled the environment and won out. Tyler had been adopted at two months of age. His birth mother had neglected and abused him. He was raised in a healthy (functional) family since three months of age. Story D Deacon Bernard loves to minister. He would be a priest, but he wanted a wife and family and left seminary in college. Bernard is very well liked by the people because he is so filled with empathy. Recently he has had several counseling sessions with Phyllis. At twen(y-five years The Addicted/Dependent Minister of age, Phyllis has finished two M.A. degrees--one in counseling and the other in theology. Phyllis is very angry with the Church about not being able to be a priest. During many sessions she has talked about how victimized she felt. Bernard shares her feelings; he has felt put off by the Church because he got married. Being ordained a deacon is okay, but he feels victimized also. Bernard and Phyllis are now in their sixth session. In counseling they talk about equal amounts of time on their feel-ings toward the Church. They both agree worship has become harder and harder. They feel they have been good for each other because they share so many of the same hurts. Bernard's homelife is healthy and functional; Phyllis is from a gifted and wealthy family that seems equally healthy. The cycle here is one of self-pity/co-pity. The theologies in these stories are issues, but not as much as the pain and hell these ministers are causing to others. The rocking-chair process addiction is not a matter of standing still; though moving, it is going no-where. All these ministers are gifted and likeable people. These depend-ency stories are more subtle than that of the staggering drunk pastor or the power-hungry director of religious education, but their subtlety serves as a reflection on the movement out of addiction/dependent be-havior. These stories show some common process dependencies, but there are many more. The addict wants to be happy and unconsciously creates a world of "happiness" in which to survive. There are dependency proc-esses not mentioned here peculiar to perhaps one person. The choices and combinations of dependencies are nearly infinite. Ministers are always in need of insight into themselves lest they run the risk of projecting their feelings and dependencies on the client. Minister on the Mend Ministers need to choose not rocking-chair but journey addictions. As they learn from and depend on healthy processes, they become peace-ful within and freer to hear the true struggles of Jesus. The healthy proc-esses that are most easily seen are to say no and to delegate. Both re-quire much tact and articulation if everyone is to remain free. Sometimes the ministry can more easily be done alone; often other factors enter-- such as community, collaboration, and identity--which should be con-sidered and pondered. In any case, ministry always means community. Three more models are listed earlier under the Healthy Process column. Each of these ends in letting go. A common slogan in twelve-step programs is "Let go--let God." Any healthy process will end in letting go. Jesus is clearly the model 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 here. To let go (presuming the preceding steps are gone through), much reflection and healthy prayer time is needed. Ministers need time to di-gest each experience. This includes some time alone and some quality dialogue with what is commonly called theological reflection. A good minister has the ability to stand still. The old statement that moved many a minister was "an idle mind is the devil's workshop." Well, the same idle mind is also God's workshop. Each minister holds the key to the workshop door. When one's whole being is idle, the minister is able to again open himself or herself to caring for others. This means that the minister is caring for himself or herself as the first one to be ministered to. Jesus the Dependent? Jesus was human like us in all ways but sin; yet he was dependent on a home for being raised, dependent on scrolls and on people for his learning, and dependent on the elements of survival like food, warmth, sleep, and friendship. The desert fast was Jesus pulling away from food and people to experience more. Jesus was definitely dependent on the human condition. "He emptied himself" as Philippians says; and yet, without abandoning his divinity, Jesus became enslaved to our human condition of dependency. He became all those things that take each of us to the threshold of addiction and dependency. Jesus became fear, doubt, loneliness, anxiety, and anger. These are not sins but feelings. It is in feelings that one touches the threshold of dependency. Jesus con-tinually emptying himself is the movement from addiction. He did not fill himself with any substance to extreme. Jesus chose his dependencies. From the gospels those chosen dependencies seem to be friendship, the (Jewish) word of God, prayer, and telling the story (parable) plus living the story. So Jesus' dependencies are on a deeply human level but always more. Jesus was empowered with the Spirit and worked miracles of heal-ing, but still had to experience emotional suffering and ultimately death. The addiction of power and control Jesus declined over and over. He did not want to be a king, a religious leader, or a political leader. He emp-tied himself; addicts try to fill themselves. Jesus holistically emptied him-self. Flesh and bones like us, he did not even overly depend on his hu-manity. He lived and believed in his human condition and more, Jesus has the same faith in us for he was one like us. Jesus was dependent on "one day at a time." This was living the model of the Father; for him being open and dependent upon the Father became a daily reality. The "daily bread" Jesus talks of is the daily por- The Addicted/Dependent Minister tion of human and divine needs. Childlike Jesus was dependent on the human condition. True addicts/dependents become blind and their world gets ever smaller. Jesus is not blind but tries to ever open us to the larger world that he called the "reign of God." Jesus is the model for the ad-dict in the way he lived the serenity prayer: "God, grant me the seren-ity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Three Areas of Interdependence for the Minister 1. The minister in a support system A support system means to have a world of peers. Being able to talk honestly and needfully, the minister opens up, allowing himself or her-self to be the recipient of ministry. Ministry by its nature is a parent role. Therefore to be able to step out of that role into a peer relationship is crucial for wellness. To seek support ministers cannot deny or toy with their dependen-cies. They need to be able to say "I need," "I hurt," "I'm angry," and so forth. Even though these "confessions" need be made at times with clients, here it is a perspective of care for the minister. Here minis-ters make their addictions known in trust. Unhealthily dependent persons function under three unwritten rules: (1) Do not talk about the depend-ency; (2) do not trust anyone because in the long run they will hurt you; and (3) do not feel because feelings can only cause trouble or pain. With such a support system, ministers can appear arrogant or even pious. In a support system that offers freedom to talk and an environment of trust for articulation of feelings, ministers minister to themselves. Any aloof-ness starts to subside in the therapy of the support system. This is a form of interdependence. Interdependence is very difficult to accomplish because it must be scheduled on a regular basis and it must seek a quality rapport with one or more persons. So many relationships (addictions/dependencies) are codependent: "You fix me and I'll fix you." In interdependence the de-pendent lives "rent free" (as AA says) of guilt, manipulation, and shame. Once the dependency is named and claimed, some of the twelve-step programs might be appropriate. Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), nar-cotics anonymous (NA), sexaholics anonymous (SA), and adult children of alcoholics (ACOA) are support groups that meet regularly and are very good. For ministers with any of these addictions, weekly contact with the relevant group would be appropriate. Meeting less often than this is Review for Religious, November-December 1988 a form of denial to a given addiction. Other support systems like clinical counseling might be in order. See-ing a counselor can help one to look at addictive behavior. Again, a weekly meeting would be appropriate for the same reasons of denial. A spiritual director can also be helpful. It is important that the spiritual di-rector also be in spiritual direction. For the minister to ask for direction would be most helpful. If the spiritual director is not in direction, he or she is probably not conscious of personal dependencies in process ad-diction. Diocesan priests can have a support system in "Jesu Caritas" or "Emmaus" groups. The interdependence support area affords intimacy that is construc-tive and articulate. There must be a constant (weekly) point where min-isters are vulnerable, candid, and open. Ministers need intimacy more than most people; they need to have their own needs met. The more pas-toral responsibilities they have, the more difficult will be the problem of a support system that will work. Not finding such a system drives one right back into unhealthy dependency/addiction. This support system pre-sumes skills of great openness, and it demands qualified supporters who are themselves in touch with their own dependencies. God will be part of this because "where two or more are gathered, I am there"; this gath-ering of support will be the human condition laid open, and this sharing leads to the divine. Christianity itself is a support system not in theory only but in expe-rienced reality. To be Christian is to be community. Ministers model Christian living at its best as they acquire ministry to themselves. There will need to be many subcommunities like support groups within the sup-port system. For example, the substance-abuse minister may be in a "non-Christian" twelve-step program; still, the very dynamic is intrin-sically Christian by the fruits that are produced. The support system keeps (or even makes) the minister docile. Our Christian model of support is that the Master is always with us; no disci-ple ever becomes the master in Christianity. Christians are dependent on the Master. The minister lives this posture of the support system with a life of prayer. Prayer must be meditative and routine. Prayer must be daily. The minister will address Christ with "now I feel . . ." and be naked of all dependencies in his presence. 2. The Minister Using Humor as Healing Somewhere in the ritual of each day, the call to play must come. Just as "Let us pray" is ritualized, so must "let us play" be said and done. Ministers take themselves too seriously. To have a sense of humor is to The Addicted/Dependent Minister / 1~47 have a sense of healing. For some a sense of humor can get rough, laugh-ing at another's expense. Even if someone encourages being laughed at, discernment of the healing or hurting nature of humor is needed. Not all humor is healing. The virtue that comes with levity is gentleness. If ministers can laugh at themselves in a gentle and affectionate way, the humor is healing. So often caught in addiction/dependency, ministers may smile at their short-comings and say to themselves, "I'm not a saint yet," and move on with life. Humor does not mean telling jokes or developing talks (homilies) that are funny or entertaining. Humor simply brings us to reality away from our world of illusion. Substance and process addictions do produce a world of illusion. Just watching TV commercials shows us illusions, humor, and addiction. The problem with much in the media is that truth is not the main product being sold. Humor has truth at its core, and per-haps an exaggeration of that truth in humor can make a point of healing. An example of this might be telling a workaholic who is exhausted that you see no reason for him to sleep tonight: "I don't know why you can't work all night writing a major address for that group--you'd do it better than anyone else." Humor brings us to gentleness and reality; another quality is that of forgiveness. Sometimes in the healing of humor more forgiveness can take place than in more formal settings. A wink or kind facial expres-sion can be the forgiving gesture of gentleness that a given moment may need. Humor is a way of recycling the minister in a very healthy way. 3. The Minister and a Sense of Adventure This need of interdependence is seen more readily in retired minis-ters, but it needs to be present all along the journey of development. Min-isters in retirement can be the personifie~ wisdom of God even (or espe-cially) in their decrepit physical condition, or they can be Scrooge-like "humbug" people holding tightly to the past. The sense of adventure always is looking at the present and the future. Ministers can feel that "they owe me after all that I've done for them." Addicted ministers often will want to cause their own early retirement (or death). In aged ministers it is still the world of extremes if addiction is present. In a sense of adventure there is a sense of tomorrow. Ever changing by an open-ness to grace, ministers can keep looking forward to more in their life. The life of unhealthy addiction/dependency always seduces one to be-come fixated. In the interdependence of adventure, ministers respond to and embrace the limited world of themselves and the limited world of their environment. Using personal creativity, ministers can become eter- 1~41~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 nal students of life itself. Healthy ministers can be recognized here, with their level of interests always expanding. Self-improvement and educa-tion become an ever present sense of direction for them. They have a zest for life and a loving interest in others. Unhealthy ministers often scorn and condemn the life they see in healthy ministers. This can manifest it-self in competition or gossip or both. Ministers often live in their own professional world, a world no larger than the client's care and working for the community. "All work and no play makes John a dull boy." John is not only a dull minister but an addicted minister. There is a flatness and pity that emerge when the sense of adventure is not maintained on a regular level. Some say that a minister should always be reading a secular novel (and that does not necessarily mean of the Andrew Greeley variety). Friends and hobbies that have nothing to do with religion are excellent for the minister. The priests' poker club does not meet this need because "business" will al-ways creep into the conversation. Ministers can feel lost when not known in some place for who they are or what they are--this is a good chal-lenge to the minister. Ministers who are able to change through self-experimentation, self-denial, and self-ministry will find themselves flex-ible enough to grow in wisdom, age, and grace to the very point of death. Conclusion St. Augustine tells us that we are restless until we rest in God. There are many resting places on the journey of the minister that are anything but peaceful; these rest stops are often addictions. Satiated, confused, and disoriented, the minister quickly becomes less a minister than he or she would wish to be. These pages have looked at some cultural handi-caps in order to help ministers to be more free of them. Ministers living their faith are likely to feel some anxiety and insecurity. In a highly pos-session- oriented society that measures life by production and consump-tion, ministers become models of freedom by living a simple, unattached lifestyle. The "product" is freedom in Jesus himself. Thus, even though most ministers are addicted, they have a world of choice in their depend-encies. Those choices determine their personal happiness and effective-ness. Communal Spiritual Consolation John English, S.J. Many of our readers know at least some of Father English's writings on spirituality. In this article he discusses the significance of communal spiritual consolation for com-munal spirituality. He may be addressed at Ignatius College; P.O. Box 1238; Guelph, Ontario; N IH 6N6 Canada. The understanding and practice of spirituality has tended to focus on an individual person's experience and aspirations, but the individual needs to realize that spirituality is always in a communal context. If spiritual-ity focuses on the experiences the individual has in, through, and of com-munity, there is less danger of an individualistic spirituality. Consider the many examples in the Old Testament and the whole "Body of Chr

Issue 33.4 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 July 1974 Volume 33 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Assisting Those Who Leave Religious Institutes Sacred Congregati'on for Religious Under the date of January 30, 1974, the Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for Religious sent the following letter to Father Pedro Arrupe, S.J., chairman of the Union of Superiors General of Men, in order that the contents of the letter might be communicated to religious superiors. The problem of the assistance to be given to religious who leave their institute has more than once been investigated by this Sacred .Congrega-tion together with the members of both Unions" of Superiors General. As a result of these investigations, the Sacred Congregation has prepared the enclosed document which I am happy to present to you in order that it may be made available to all superiors general. Both Directives and Principles In bringing to the attention of the superiors general directives concern-ing the help that should be extended to those who leave their religious community, the Sacred Congregation wishes to indicate at the same time the considerations and principles on which the directives are based. The Sacred Congregation is aware of the situation, in which institutes find themselves both on account of the considerable increase of the numbers of those who leave and on account of the criteria by which those leaving would justify their claims. General Principle Every religious family has the obligation to provide for the spiritual, moral, social, and temporal well-being of its members while they are mem-bers. This principle ought to be extended in some manner, though for dif- 769 770 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 ferent reasons and with definite limits, to those who leave their institutes and who find themselves faced with the necessity of inserting themselves into society as secular persons after having spent perhaps many years in religious life. Provisions of Canon 643, § 1 The Code of Canon Law prescribes that those who leave their religious community, whether dispensed from their vows or dismissed from the in-stitute, cannot claim any remuneration for the work they did as members of the institute. This principle, as stated incanon 643, § 1, is intrinsic to religious profesgion: Those who freely and voluntarily enter religious life place LhemseJves in :an entirely special situation. Religious profession is a reality'o,~f a spirituhl~nature and implies the total surrender to God of all. that one can achieve" during one's religious life, even if this implies uncer-tainty regarding the future. Accordingly, it is contrary to the very nature of a religious community to consider it as an organization having the rela-tionship with its members of employer to employees. No Release from Assisting Those Who Leave The above considerations, however, do not release the institute from the duty, based on the principles of charity, equity, justice, and social re-sponsibility, of assisting, those who leave the institute. Above all, the ne-cessity for empathy at the moment of departure from the religious life as well as the difficulty inherent in the transfer which involves theentire being of the person involved require that the person who leaves should depart feeling that he or she is being treated with. all the respect due a person. For the same reasons those in whose care the institute rests should be. con-scious of.,having acted justly and in .accord with the principles indicated. Provisions of Canon 643, § 2 The Church has made its stipulations for those departing from religious life in terms of canon 643, § 2, which was originally formulated for the benefit of exzreligious women and subsequently.applied to ex-religious men. But the prescriptions of this canon appear inadequate in view of the de-mands fldwing from, today's heightened social conscience. On the other hand,, considering the actual state of affairs and the fluid character of this problem; it is neither possible nor advisable to formulate general norms applicable to all cases. Further Criteria for Assistance It is above all necessary to give genuine assistance to the one l~aving religious life in order to enable him to find the place in the lay state which is best suited to his capabilities. As is evident, the measure of such as-sistance, the financial help provided, should be determined in each in- Assisting Those~ Who Leave Religious Institutes / 771 dividual case since no two are the same. The situation of those who have good qualifications and experience and whose placement in the world is assured in advance is far different from that of those religious who by reason of age or other circumstances are physically or morally unsuited for a remunerative position. Moreover, the measure of the assistance depends on what is possible for the institute itself as well as on the institute's obligations of charity, equity, and justice not to burden the members who persevere in the insti-tute with obligations caused by an ill-proportioned generosity toward those who leave the community. Religious institutes can undertake provision for the temporal needs of its members in ways that would assist even those members who leave re-ligious life. This would involve using means that are more consonant with the spirit of our times in the context of justice and-social security while at the same time respecting the nature of religious life. Among such means there might be considered, according to circumstances, the establishment of programs of social security at the community level or with the interven-tion of the National Conferences, as well as enrollment of members in ¯ already existing organizations of social security and insurance. It is commendable that religious institutes set up or support offices for the moral and economic assistance of those who leave in order to give them advice and to help them, according to their qualifications, to find as soon as possible a position and to earn a salary to maintain themselves decently and properly. Summary onclusion The plenary assembly of this Sacred Congregation in its session of October 23 to 25, 1972, after examining all the theoretical and practical aspects of the problem, formulated the following directives: 1. As a matter of principle, the norm laid down in § 1 of canon 643 remains in force. 2. Every religious 'family is urged to provide properly for" the spiritual, moral, social, and economic well-being of those who leave the institute. 3. Religious institutes should study and adopt suitable measures to provide for the future of their religious and consequently of those who return to the secular state. In communicating these directives to the superiors general, this Sacred Congregation urges them to bear in mind, in their interpretations, the prin-ciples and criteria set forth above. Where Have All the Sisters Gone? Alan Rogers Alan Rogers is the pen name of a priest of the Diocese of Gallup in New Mexico. For further information about the needs of the Diocese of Gallup, write The Chancery; Diocese of Gallup; P.O. Box 1338; Gallup, New Mexico 87301. Where have all the sisters gone?--to the Southwest. The Gallup Diocese had I20 sisters four years ago, now it boasts 180. The Beginnings In the days when Cardinal Suenens appeared as a liberator of women, and a Daniel Berrigan preached beautifully in motherhouses about com-mitment to the poor, encouraging sisters to leave their classrooms and to sit down and have a cup of coffee in the kitchen of a shack on the other side of the tracks and urged them to read their constitution and find out whether they were committed to the task they were founded for, many of them decided then and there to respond to the challenge. What Cardinal Suenens failed t~o realize was that he was talking about so.me of the small European convents where sisters prayed, and perhaps made vestments, but seldom had contact with people. He was not talking about the nuns of the 50's in the United States who were attending conventions, teaching in our schools, operating hospitals, running colleges, no--he was talking about the medieval nun in the European convent. Father Daniel Berrigan rightly quoted the Vatican decree on religious, but he did not quote all of it. Vatican II suggested that religious communities review the goals of their founders to see if these original ideas had a valid place in the world of today, but it also said that the value of a religious community consisted in this, that religious by being a group, could undertake projects that would be impossible for individuals. Many sisters left their commitment to a faith 772 Where Have All the Sisters Gone? / 773 apostolate for a social one. They impoverished people spiritually that they might experience physical poverty and try to alleviate it. Coming to the Southwest In any event, the new look in religious communities that was so up-setting caused schools to be closing in the Midwest and East and West Coast, while the nuns who formerly staffed them looked for poor areas in which to serve. When they heard that Gallup was the poorest diocese in the country--the most depressed rural area in the United States--they came looking for the kind of apostolate that had been suggested to them. Here in the United States they were able to use their own language and yet enter into an apostolate for the poor. Here they found some 170,000 Indians, many of them not yet related to Christ. They found them living in one-room mud and log hogans, or in adobe pueblos with earthen floors; here they shared their mutton stew and fried bread and chile. The change in thinking in religious life that caused such a spiritual impoverishment of our large Catholic parishes by the lack of religious teachers was a boon to the Indians and the Spanish speaking in poor areas of the Southwest. Work for the Pioneer and the Venturesome Here there is still work for the pioneer, for the adventuresome woman. Here at the end of the Santa Fe Trail, sister still finds an entr6 among the Indians and Chicanos, with her habit. She loves to hear the terms of endearment of "Madrecita"--"Hermanita." She enjoys sitting in the shadow of a hogan teaching little beady eyed, black-haired youngsters, with an oriental look, about the great good God who made the sun and sky and moon and loved them from all eternity. Sisters are needed to come to live in trailer convents in some thirty Chapters in "Checkerboard ~ountry." This is largely Indian land, but has a .few Anglo or Spanish ranchers among its population. The Diocese of Gallup is inviting sisters who, for some reason or other, wish to leave their community as a group, or find their community is no longer dedicated to the kind of apostolate they had hoped for, to found Motherhouses or "Small Central Houses" where sisters could return perhaps once every week or two, while they live out among the Indians in a trailer with a little chapel, and priest and brother close by. The Bishop of Gallup welcomes those communities who are looking for an authentic interpretation of Vatican II. Needs and Opportunities The bishop describes his priests as "going along with all the changes in the Church, but not running ahead of them." In this area wh~re missionaries are engaged in preevangelization, there is so much to be done in teaching the fundamentals, that there is little time for experiment and unorthodox 774 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 interpretation of Scriptures or the Church's teaching. The call of Christ to come with Him into the desert still sounds loudly in the ears of sisters of today. Here are some of the opportunities the Diocese of Gallup offers: Aragon, New MexicowSanto Nifio Parish and its missions of Reserve, Horse Springs, and Glenwood. Carton County has only one priest, and until two years ago had sisters for cat~chetical work. Several years before that, the small Catholic school was closed. Two years ago two sisters, going to a catechetical meeting, .went over the cliff with their car in Salt River Canyon. They were killed outright. Since then the convent has been closed, because of no sisters to replace them. For the present, sisters are needed for catechetical work. Here one sister should be able to drive, in order to cover the various missions. There is a possibility of opening a school, which, is still used for an O.E.O. Program. These people are almost all Basques from northern Spain, but speak both English and Spanish. Gallup, New Mexico~Catholic Charities. Semi-retired sisters are needed to listen to the problems and difficulties of people who come into the Casa de San Martin in Gallup, and give non-profesional counseling to unwed mothers, teenagers, fallen away Catholics. A pleasant building in the center of Gallup. Gallup, New Mexico-~Cathedral Hall. Sisters are needed to supervise girls' dormitory after school hours, and to cook for about fifty boys and girls. Whiteriv~r, Arizona--St. Francis Mission needs sisters for catechetical work among the Apache Indians. Here, attached to a new hall, is a room and bath for two sisters. The Franciscan Father in charge would use this temporarily until' larger quarters could be found, if sisters were permanently located there. At present, sisters come for just a short period during the summer. There is a boarding school at some distance, where they might assist with the teaching, as well as several other schools. One of the sisters would have to know how to drive a car. Cibecue, Arizona--St. Catherine Mission. This is also an Apache Indian Mission, with very few Catholics. Here sisters would be doing home visiting and catechetical work, as well as in the Mission of Cedar Creek. Springerville, ArizonawSt. Peter Parish has a pleasant apartment above the kitchen of the hall, which has been outfitted for two sisters who would supervise a rather well organized catechetical program, and if able to drive, would go to St. Helena Mission at Alpine, Arizona, and assist in working with the State School for Delinquent Boys. These youngsters need counseling and religious instruction. Page, Arizona--Two sisters or three are needed to occupy an apart-ment waiting for them. In this boom town there are many people who have moved in from elsewhere, with religious and moral problems. Sisters are needed to visit homes, to teach in Indian school at Kaibito, and in released time classes. Where Have All the Sisters Gone? / 775 Coordinator of Education--A Sister "Supervisor" or "Coordinator" of Education is needed for the nine grade schools and two high schools in the diocese, to replace the sister who retired. Checkerboard Area--Groups of two or three sisters are needed in some thirty Chapters of Navajo Indians in the Checkerboard Area. In each Chapter, a parish is to be founded, sisters to be part of team, visiting hogans, and conducting religion classes. Retreat House--A group of sisters is needed to found and staff a House of Prayer, retreats, marriage encounters, cursillos, and searches for Chris-tian maturity. A group of semi-contemplative sisters could do a good job. Much of the time they would be free to pray, with perhaps twenty weekends a year managing the house for groups of twenty to thirty persons. Milan, New Mexico~St. Vivian Parish. In a parish of some one hundred and twenty families, a released time catechetical program is possible, since the church is immediately across from the ~ublic school. Two or three sisters could do a fine job here, and assist with work in the Mission of San Mateo. ~ Holbrook, Arizona~atechetical center, with released time, is planned for the Junior and Senior High School. Two sisters could staff this center, and live with one Victory Noll Sister in the convent near Our Lady of Guadalupe Church. Roving Catechetical Teams--one for Arizona and one for New Mexico (two sisters to each team), to work with the Director of Religious Educa-tion in organizing and instructing teachers of religion. But the greatest challenge of the area is perhaps the Navajo reservation --the fastest growing Indian nation in the world. Ten years ago some 70,000 Indians lived in this 25,000 square mile area--now there are 130,000. This is an area as .large as the State of West Virginia. In West Virginia there are 25,000 miles of hard surface roads; on the Navajo Reservation there are 1000 miles. It is beautiful country--big red rocks, deep canyons, but the Indians cannot eat the red rocks or find something to drink in waterless rivers. Sixty-four percent of the Navajo men have no work. There are no cities on the Navajo Reservation. Some Navajos are still nomads wandering with their sheep, some trying to eke out an existence on. the sparse grass that grows in the desert. The educational level is still only Fifth Grade. Sisters are needed to teach religion in the Federal Board-ing Schools, to continue the education of young adults and young married couples, traveling from one little group of three to ten hogans, to another. Sisters are needed to staff Catechetical Centers across from Arizona State Schools on a released time program. There are orphans .to be cared for, but there is no orphanage in the area. Plans are on the board for a Chil-dren's Ranch near Milan, New Mexico. According to traditional Navajo custom, people who are dying ought to be placed outside the house be-cause if they die in the house, the house must be burnt~estroyed. Where 776 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 can the elderly go? There is no Christian Home to receive the old and the dying, with the charity of Christ, in the entire area. T-he Franciscan Fathers who came to the area with Coronado in the early 16th century tried their best to amalgamate the Indian religion with the Catholic religion. They built beautiful Mission Churches, still standing today--at Acoma going back to 1630; at Lagune and Zuni going back to 1690. These churches are evidence of the Catholic attitude toward the Red Man. A real effort was made to blend the Spanish and the Indian culture. It was from the Spaniards they learnt to make their "Navajo" rugs, their beautiful indian jewelry. When America took over, the reserva-tion system was inaugurated, and for the most part the Indian has remained segregated from the rest of the United States. The Indian has been treated as a child, money has been doled out to him, and he has reacted as a child. The responsibility for his condition lies largely with the unchristian treat-ment of the Indian in the past. At no time in history has he been so con-ditioned for the reception of Christianity. Medicine men are dying out. Not many young men are willing to learn the long "Sing" of the Medicine Man. Many young people today growing up in distant Boarding Schools know little about the secrets of the tribe that used to be given them in the "kiva," the tribal religious chamber. The great conflict that used to exist between Indian ideals and those of the white man is gradually disappearing. The Indian today wants to keep his identity~ wants to know about his background and be proud of his ancestry. At the same time he wants all that he has a right to in a civilized modern country such as the United States. Teenagers especially need help to avoid the conflicting and seem-ingly contradictory goals of two civilizations. The suicide rate in some areas is ten times that of the country as a whole among teenage boys and girls. The3, have lived in Federal Boarding Schools for twelve years, and have seen on colored T.V. what they could be in the world outside. They have the same ambitions that other teenagers have, to follow careers of various kinds, and then their parents and grandparents tell them to live as their forefathers did--to haul water from great distances, to live in one room without any privacy. They need help to resolve this dilemma. They need to be shown that there can be a beautiful blending of the white man's and the Indian's values; they must be made proud of what they have to contribute to the world of today. It is the job of the sisters to give hope and'pride of life to puzzled Indian teenagers. There is one frontier left in the United States. It presents the greatest challenge of the century to the sisters of today. Now is the time when Christianity will be accepted or rejected by the Indians. They cannot ac-cept what they do not know.l 1For more details on the needs and opportunities of the Diocese of Gallup, write or call The Chancery; Diocese of Gallup; Box 1338; Gallup, New Mexico 87301. Prayer, Pastoral Presence, and Group Solidarity Sister Elizabeth V. Roach Sister Elizabeth V. Roach is a Maryknoll sister who is presently engaged in pastoral ministry in South America. Her address is: Madres de Maryknoll; Apartado 145, /ca, Peru. In 1965 the Vatican II document on religious life gave religious women a clear mandate "to return to the sources of Christian Life and to adjust to the changed conditions of the times.TM It was as if the Church saw herself as a home in, need of spring cleaning. Indeed it was Pope John himself who invited us to open some windows. And so efforts at renewal began. It seemed like those in authority and those in the ranks began to ransack the house in search of cobwebs. All the rooms got pulled apart simul-taneously. Then, as the workers saw what a job was ahead, some panicked, some thought it better to burn down the house, and others wanted to get on with the job, but didn't know where to begin. Somehow, little by little, the results have begun to show. The following report describes a personal experience of current efforts of religious, ". to correlate their life and words, their attitudes and actions with the demands of the Gospel.''-~ Phase I--Group Reflection Calls Forth~ Individual Initiative In July 1970 thirty-nine Marykno]l Sisters in Peru gathered in Arequipa to reflect on our role in a changing Church. The outcome was enunciated in what we later referred to as "The Arequipa Paper." We were deeply concerned with identifying with the poor, with being a real sign of Christ's 1Vatican II, Appropriate Adaptation o] Religious Li]e, no. 2. ~Medelffn documents, "Poverty," no. 8. 777 77~1 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 love. The Medellin documents were a clear call from the L~tin American hierarchy to reexamine our pastoral presence.:~ One of our conclusions was: "Our life style has to be such that it may lead us to a true living together with the people in such a manner that it will facilitate a more objective knowledge of their real problems. We feel an urgency to search for a real identification with the exploited and to express our solidarity with the marginated., we should live in small communities or work groups which readily appear more dependent, less secure and more vulnerable.''4 The group saw that this would necessarily modify our presence and our work in the existing reality. We set up the general lines, but left it to each individual to see how and where and when she could put them into prac-tice. At that time I was employed as a public school biology teacher and was living in our convent in Az~ingaro. Like many convents in Peru it was a far cry from a U.S. convent, but it was much more comfortable than the homes of the people. We had electricity from six to eleven every other night. There was neither refrigerator nor central heating although we had high altitude cold at night (12,500 feet above sea level) and tropical sun by day. The diet was adequate, but limited in variety. The nearest city, Juliaca, was two hours away over a washboard road. Transportation was ir-regular and a trip to the city usually meant an overnight stay. My job in the public school with dirt floors, a thatched roof, and 23- year-old Quechua Indians, who spoke Spanish as a second language, was a real challenge. The young men were shepherds and farmers anxious to move to the city in search of a more human life. Looking for a New Ministry After the Arequipa Meeting I asked myself what my part would be in putting Our conclusions into practice. I felt that, compared with the extreme poverty of most of our people, my life style in Az~ngaro was far removed from theirs. Although I searched my soul I really did not°see what I could do about it. I did a lot of praying and consulted with many people, but I did not see what to do. My companions seemed to be in the same state. There was nothing to do but follow the example of the Apostles after the Ascension and "return to Jerusalem''~ and wait. I waited and watched for an opportunity. "~While I believed ~hat I was making a valid contribu-tion in the school I know that what had been a hardship post was now to become a preferred job because of administrative changes due to the new Educational Reform Law. I would now be easily replaceable. Meanwhile, 3Ibid., "Religious," no. 7. 4Arequipa Paper, Maryknoll Sisters in Peru, 1970. ~Acts 1:12-4. Prayer, Pastoral Presence, and Gioup Solidarity / 779 social and political changes in the country emphasized the need, ,for work with women who were outside, the formal school structures. This was a painful realization for a confirmed classroom teacher, but the Medellin documents were a constant reminder that the gospel mandate to evangelize the poor required a redistribution of religious personnel in Latin America. The Freedom of Abraham At a group meeting a sister presented a request from a Peruvian priest for two sisters to work in a deprived area. Another sister and myself of-fered to look into it. This was November 1971. The offer seemed to fulfill all the specifications of the Arequipa Paper. The parish was truly poor. The pastor was able to provide two rooms to live in, two cots without mattresses, and one meal a day. We would have to find some means of self-support. The housing would be much simpler than what we were accustomed to, but it was much closer to the reality of the people. It seemed like the opportunity we were waiting for. The group and the coordinators readily approved. Then our troubles began. The bishop of the area became very ambiguous in his response to our request for permission to accept the invitation that had been offered. He approved .and then suddenly withdrew the approbation. For a while we didn't know what was going on, but eventually it became clear that the bishop did not want the new work initiated. In the interim the other sister was asked .to fill a position that was ur-gent. I had given up my job in Az~ngaro and was enjoying more insecurity and vulnerability' than I had bargained for. I began to .appreciate what it means to belong to a praying, reflecting group. The value of our 1970 Meetiiag became really apparent because the group knew what our norms were and I was supported and encouraged by knowing that the group was agreed on general goals. We were not a homogeneous group, but the principle of respecting each one's individuality was and is sacred. So I was free to listen to the Lord and see where He would lead me. The experience of not knowing where or how or what the Lord was asking of me at that moment was the source of some new insights. I was fearful. I was not accustomed to being unemployed. My efforts came to nothing. Then I realized that the Abraham story calls for faith that leads us on an unknown path, one we have never been over before, Years of meditating on the meaning of poverty anff how it frees Yaweh's people began to make sense. I was freer. I wasfree to wait on the Lord, because I truly did not know what was to happen. In the midst of painful insecurity I experienced in a special way real freedom. And then the search became a true journey and a real pilgrimage! After a while our coordinator had a casual meeting with a sister of another congregation who seemed to be interested in the same kind of a 780 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 pastoral presence that we were seeking. There was a place in Ica~' where she could attempt it if she had another sister to accompany her. After some visiting and studying of the situation we found that the bishop there approved and welcomed this kind of effort. Again the group considered the project and approved. Phase llmGroup Supports Individual Initiative On May 29 1972 I came to lea and lived temporarily in the convent of the other sister, Ines. On July 13th we moved to a little house in a government housing project called San Joaquin. There we had a chance to synthesize theory and practice. The ideal of complete availability was now not only possible but unavoidable. We learned firsthand that the poor do not enjoy the luxury of privacy. Many times when I awakened in the morning the neighborhood children were already on the roof looking in through the sky light. The parish priest lived next door and formed part of our praying, re-flecting, and working community. He also shared meals with us. Our house was an all purpose unit which served as parish office, meeting room, and youth center. The two back yards had a cement floor and a straw mat roof. This arrangement meant that sleeping hours were often limited to what could be had between midnight and 6 AM. Creating a Parish It was agreed from the beginning that our purpose was to create a parish situation where the worker class would be called to reflection on the mean-ing of being Christian. The three who formed the core team believed this required serious efforts at prayer and reflection on our part. We tried to meet sometime each day for prayer and Mass. Here we learned that our very closeness to the problems and sufferings of the people became an ever deepening source of inspiration for prayer. The result was that many new insights came to us about the saving action of Christ in today's world. The Eucharist was celebrated around a table and was made especially meaningful by the spontaneous petitions and gospel commentaries provided by the simple working people who attended. During this time away from my own congregation I was made aware of the many ways a praying, reflecting group can support a member who is temporarily separated from it. I had never been much of a correspondent, but suddenly I was receiving letters inquiring about the work, the people, my health, and promising prayers and visits. Many sisters devoted part ot~ 6Ica is a city of 200,000 inhabitants, four hours by car from Lima. It is situated in a'desert valley an hour from the coast and is the wine-making center of Peru. Prayer, PastJral Presence, and Group Solidarity / 781 their annual vacation to visiting me. Unknown to them this spoke to the people who remarked on these obvious signs of solidarity. After almost a year Sister lines, due to community needs, was asked to return to her local house. Because it would not have been appropriate for one sister to remain alone I received an invitation to live with the other congregation. The two of us hoped to continue with the same work. Phase Ill--Group Response and Consequent Development Group response was immedi~ate. Another sister offered to join me in Ica. Within a few weeks we received clearance from the bishop not only to continue but to extend our presence to other areas and to work on a city-wide level with women and marginated groups. The experience in the housing project after evaluation led us to make three decisions. 1. We would choose a location that was more central so we could serve more p6ople. 2. Since we. were beg~nmng a new house we would try to make it known as a center for prayerl and reflection and would avoid using it as a recreation center. The prlevious experience taught us that a choice had to be made, and we consciously gave priority to the prayer and re-flection atmosphere. We felt this more consonant with our.objective of being a Christian presence for!adult women and marginated groups. 3. There was a need for a team of Maryknoll Sisters. We hoped for a group with varied talents whose creativity could be made available to the church in Ica. At the same ttme we needed a dynamic faith community that would be a sign that ". the Church desires to serve the world radi-ating over it a light and life w. hich heals and elevates the dignity of the human person., and gives a more profound reason to all human ac-tivity.''~ And it seemed important that we share the life of the poor and have close contact with the peolSle. And so we were two! After'a foot weary search of almost a month we found suitable housing. It was '~a second floor apartment in a three family house.On June 2 the bishop ca ,fiae to bless the new apartment and expressed his delight at seeing that our friends were the poor. At first he had had some misgivings about the loca~tton, but after visiting with the people he remarked that this is where religious should be, ". in a house where no one feels they have to clean their shoes to come in.''s Shortly afterwards we put in writing our objectives and the means we would use to accomplish them: rMedellin documents, "Justice," no. 5. sSermon given by the Most Reverend Alberto Maria Dettmann y Arag6n, O.P., in the Maryknoll Sisters Convent June 2 1973 in Ica, Peru. At the time he was Bishop of lca. 782 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 1. To participate in a spirit of service and availability in the pastoral work of the diocese, collaborating with the bishop and other pastoral workers. 2. To live in such a manner that our life in community would be a sign of hope and encouragement for the poor. 3. To collaborate with the services and institutions that are devoted to the service of the poor with special emphasis on activities that deepen the Christian life of w6men. ~ Initially we chose the following means: 1. A life style that will permit us to experience something of the poverty of our people. 2. An atmosphere within the house of reflection and prayer that is nourished by the problematic of the People of God. 3. Personal relationships with the poor and the institutions that serve them. 4. Study of the problems of women here. Sister Vivian, a doctor, serves the poor in three government dispensaries in the sur~rounding farming areas. She also gives medical attention in a dioc-esan outpatient clinic located in the center of the city. I work with groups of shoeshine boys, domestics, and mothers. The work is mainly gospel reflection and orientation in social problems. My commitment to the San Joaquin Pastoral Team continues. Together we invite neighborhood women to reflect with us on the gospel. A year has passed and now we are awaiting the arrival of a third sister. The group has continued to express in many ways the solidarity that exists among us. And with our people we are becoming more conscious of the saving action of Christ in our lives. Some Changes That Have Occurred in Our Lives Today, almost four years after the Arequipa Meeting, some changes are evident in our lives. Three areas are especially noteworthy. 1. Poverty. Many people here are called "eventuales." This means they earn their living by odd jobs, street vending, and migrant work. In order to share their lives we have chosen to conform to a very limited budget. My income depends on occasional English classes, Sister ~ivian's on what the poor can offer for her services. The congregation will always be willing to help when things get too difficult, but dependence on a meager and sporadic income has helped us to appreciate the tensions,that the poor'face constantly. At the same time this makes us conscious of the Lord's loving care and our ultimate dependence on Him. 2. Relations with the Clergy and the Laity. Another difference is in the place we are given in pastoral work. Pre-1970 sisters were usually re-quired to fit into the plans of the clergy. Today we are invited and en- Prayer, Pastor~ Presence, and Group Solidarity / 783 couraged to participate in the.decision-making process and frequently ex-pected to take on the responsibilities formerly thought to be the private domain of the clergy. Prior to 1970, for example, I worked with domestics, but always as assistant to the clergy. Today I am designated by the bishop to set up and implement a program for domestics, with only occasional help from a priest. Because of this new relationship the laity too feel called to take more initiative in the proclamation of the gospel message. Last year in San Joaquin I was able to convince five women to pre-pare their own children for First, Communion. Though four of the women were unlettered they did teach their own children and later trained other mothers. The Parish First Communion was due to their efforts. At first they insisted that they couldn't do it, but later they confessed their delight at the deeper faith relationship that was created between them and their chil-dren. During the year the women have demonstrated their feeling of re-sponsibility for the faith life of the community by an increased participa-tion in reflection encounters. The shoeshine boys, encouraged by the priest who organized them, buy supplies cooperatively. They hay? taken on many adult responsibilities and are learning the value of working together. Agreement on prices has led to an official price and the support of the City .Council on collecting it. This way of working calls fbrth the laity's gifts. I believe that as we sisters exercise new initiatives, ~lwe become more sensitive to the latent talents in the Christian commun, lty." Thus the relationship to both clergy and laity changes. Our former t~isks in pastoral work were supplementary. Today we have a complementary role in the midst of the People of God where the kingdom is being built I~y many brothers. . 3. Integral Prayer. Each day between d~nner and dishes we devote a period to common prayer and ~'eflection. The form varies, but often we recount some experience, relate ~t to a Bible event, and are led to prayer. For example, one day I visited a very poor settlement. A woman noticed I was looking for an address. Inlthat neighborhood ~t ~s dangerous to leave a house unguarded. It was almost dinner time. The woman seeing my need, left her home, her belongings, ahd her cooking, and saw me to the house I was looking for. I thought gbraham's going forth was related to her willingness to help a stranger. This led us to pray that we might imitate her openness and care for others. It was easy to praise God's constant care of us. ~ Another day, as Sister Vivian trudged home hot and weary, a little child ran up to her with a merry greeting and a delightful smile. We re-membered what a free gift is God's Love. Thus, prayer is informed and nourished by the opportunity to share more intimately in the life of[ the poor. We are more conscious of the anguish and sorrow of modern man. As we become more aware of the Review ]or Religious, l"olume 33, 1974/4 Paschal Mystery, redemption is not only a doctrine to which we assent but an urgent need. Humility used to be a virtiae to be practiced and prayed for. When one encounters a shoeshine boy of seven who works till 11 P.M., it becomes an unavoidable conclusion. And the suffering of an innocent Christ becomes a now event! Apostolic Prayer Leonard Doohan Leonardfield, Cheshire;D°°hanEngland.Writes from Ingersliy Hall;. Ingersley Road; Bollington; Maccles- St. Paul's first advice in writing ~t0 Timothy was that "there should be p(Irxay Temrs 2o:f1fe )r.e Idn foourr e dvaeyrsy,o pnrea-y-epre~lsti tbifo.n rse,. .iqnuteersct,e psseitoitniosn, ,a nindt etrhcaensksisogniv, sinegem" to have fallen from favor. I would like to consider for a short while pray-ers of request and especially one type of petitionary prayer, namely, apostolic prayer. Prayer of Intercession : Philosophical knowledge of GJd is a wonderful background for prayer, ¯ but the knowledge of man is also, essentml. Emphasis on the former can lead to an imbalanced view especia!ly of prayer of intercession. Undoubted-ly, there is a great difference betwe'en God and us, but any necessary adap-tation as a prelude to encounter mu~st come from God, and this He has done in the Incarnation. ! Prayer of intercession is a ver~, valid form of prayer particularly when linked to personal commitment forI the attaining of the request made. Here the celebration of prayer is linked to the celebration of life--there is no escapism from reality into prayer, ~aor is there a seeking of a magical solu-tion in prayer for our own probler~s. Prayer when genuine leads to an in-ability to do otherwise than lead a life of total commitment for the realiza-tion of the requests made. St. Thomas More used to say: "The things that I pray for, Lord give me the grace to labor for." When approached in this way, our prayer leads to growth, ~nd has guaranteed efficacy. Notice how in St. Luke's gospel the three rfiainstages of Jesus' ministry-~baptism, 785 7116 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 transfiguration, and Gethsemane--are closely connected. Each is linked to prayer, to a wholeheated accePtance of the Father's will, to 6ommitment to the mission given--and then they are rounded off with a heavenly rev-elation which is depicted as an answer to prayer. This idea of the close connection between prayer of intercession and commitment to the attaining of the request made, is well seen in a study of the Lord's Prayer. The disciples come to Jesus and ask: "Lord, teach us how to pray." Jesus' reply can be naturally understood as a recommended formula-prayer. When you wish to pray, say this prayer: "Our Father . " However, it is also possible to see in the words of Jesus a group of prayer-ful life-attitudes--seven, in fact, the typical Jewish number for fullness. If you want to dedicate yourself to a completely prayerful life=style then: recognize the Fatherhood of God ~anctify His name spread His kingdom do His will := ° acknowledge daily dependence on Him for what you ne,,ed forgive debts and flee from evil. Within these few lines we have interpenetration of an intercessory formula-prayer and attitudes of commitment for the attaining of the request made. In our intercessory prayer the interplay of these two points--formula-prayer and attitudes of commitment--manifest, I feel, its genuineness. Spirit, Kingdom, and Prayer In St. Luke prayer of intercession is given more emphasis than at first glance one would think. The word "to offer petition" (proseukomai) ap-pears 86 times in the New Testament, 35 times in Luke and Acts (19 in Luke). If cognates are included the word appears 57 times in Lucan ma-terial. Moreover, it is important to note that prayer of'intercession is closely connected with the Holy Spirit and with the kingdom. S. Smalley from Man-chester University says that Spirit, kingdom, and prayer, are closely con-nected at all important moments in the progress of salvation history. He gives the following examples: Annunciation, Zecharias, birth of Christ, baptism, confession at Caesarea Phillippi, transfiguration, the sending of the seventy, Gethsemane, the cross, Pentecost, election of Matthias, life of early church, election of the seven deacons, visit to Samaria, farewell at Miletus. The general thrust of Luke seems to be that in petitionary prayer the believer channels the activity of the Holy Spirit f~r the spreading of the kingdom. Smalley, quoting another author, says: "Lampe describes as 'one of the most characteristic features of St. Luke's teaching' his insistence on prayer as 'the means by which the dynamic energy of the Spirit is ap-prehended.' In other words, prayer is 'complementary to the Spirit's activity Apostolic Prayer / 787 since it is the point at which the communication of divine influence becomes effective for'its recepients' " (S. ~malley, "Spirit, Kingdom and Prayer in Luke and Acts," Novurn Testame,ntum, January 1973, 61, quoting Lampe, The Holy Spii'it in the Writings o[ S.t.Luke). ~ Petitionary prayer then is p.i'esented as closely connected with the setting up of the kingdom. It is n:atural, therefore, that once the kingdom had been established, Luke's vie,~, of prayer should change. Sure enough, once we arrive at Chapter 13 in the Acts (and there are 28 chapters in Acts), the element of prayer in t.he previous sense disappears because the kingdom is here. Any form of prayer is now directed to the preachers of its arrival~-Peter, Paul, and Barnabas, for the success of their work. Here we have in Luke a p.resentaUon of prayer of intercession as apostolic prayer--it is directed to the establishing and spreading of the king-dora--- the life and message of Christ. Intercession in Our Own Lives L6t us have a look at this in relation to our own life now. The gift of new life made to individuals in Christ is made only by the Father. No matter how much we try, we cannot achieve the conception of new life in others nor can we do much to help in its growth¯ "No one comes to me," said Jesus, "un'less my Father dra,ws h~m. And although Apollo may help in the planting and Paul water, it is God ,alone who gives increase and growth. I While human effort is essen.tIial not only for the development of the new life in us, but also for its presence and development in others, never-theless we must have our pnontle~s right. In this context even great activity on our part may of itself be of little value. In fact, there is an important d~fference between ~nstr0mentaht3~ 'and let us call it "apostolic persuasion." The instrumentality could be done by anyone, but it is the prayer of. "apostolic persuasion" that leads the Father to draw someone to Christ. The initiative is always the Father's, but He has placed the possible "apostolic persuasion" in the hands~ of men. The Council seemed quite concerned to revive our appreciation of the importance of apostolic prayer, anal moves freely from apostolate to prayer: "In order to be faithful to the ~livine command, 'Mike disciples of all nations' (Mt .28:14), the CatholiCI Church must work' with all urgency and concern . Hence, the Church earnestly begs of her children that, first of all 'supphcat~ons, prayers and in.tercessions, and thanksgtvlngs be made for all men . . . For this is good[ and agreeable in the sight of God our Savior, who wishes all men to be '.saved and to come to the 'knowledge of the truth' (1 Tm 2:1-4)" (DH !4). In the Decree on the. Missions the Council says explicitly that "it will be the bishop's task to raise up from among h~s own people . . . souls ,~ho will offer prayer . . . with a generous heart for the evangelization of the~ world" (AG 38). Yet again elsewhere Review [or Religious, l/olume 33, 1974,/4 the fathers of the Council say that by prayer a community can exercise a true motherhood towards souls who are led to Christ (see PO 6). Apostolic prayer is something in which all Christians can share, but is something which in a special way must be an intimate part of the life of a religious. Moreover, as apostolic activity decreases with the passing of years, the apostolic persuasion of prayer ought to increase. There are two main types of apostolic prayer. The simple prayer of request and then contemplation. Simple Prayer of Request Let us consider the first. I would like us to look at this in.a person whom we normally associate not with prayer but with tremendous activity, namely, Paul. For Paul, prayer is not only the source of his apostolic work, but feeds his apostolic spirit, prepares him for his apostolic work, accompanies him during it, and even takes the place of his work at times. In his early writingswe see the younger zealous Paul encouraging prayer to the Thessal0nians; but as time passes and PauI becomes immersed in his apostolic work he never moves away from his conviction of the value of apostolic prayer. Later on, his prayer does not decrease; rather it becomes more forceful. He ends his letter to the Romans with these words (Jerusalem Bible translation): "But I beg of you, brothers, by our Lord Jesus Christ and the love of the Spirit to help me through my dangers by praying to God for me (15:30). The word Paul uses here, sunagonisas-thai, is translated by the RSV version as "strive together with me in your prayers," and the New English Bible translates it as "be my allies in the fight; pray to God for me . . ." When speaking of prayer Paul often uses with the word prayer, the word to fight or wrestle: I am fighting or wrestling with God for you in prayer. He begins his second ch~apter of the letter to the Colossians with: "What a battle I put up for you and for those in Laodiciea," and towards the end of the letter he says that "Epaphras too is fighting for you all the time" (4: 12). Father Lyonnet assures us that in both cases we are in the context of prayer (Dieci meditazioni su san Paolo, Paideia, 1967, 28-9). This idea of fighting or insisting in prayer was not new in Paul; already Christ had told us of his esteem for the friend who insisted on having bread (Lk 11:5-8), and the widow who insisted on having justice (Lk 18:lf). Moreover, the, fathers saw Jacob's fight with the angel in a similar light. Clement of Rome in his letter to the Corinthians said: "Day and night you should wrestle on behalf of the brotherhood, and in His mercy and compas-sion the whole number of His elect might be saved." Intercession in God's Plan Christ and Paul leave us with the impression that God wants us to Apostolic Prayer / 789 pray and pray in such a way that it seems we are almost wrenching our requests from Him. Naturally, in God's plan we know that it is not sb much what we do as who we are or how we develop ourselves that is important. In this prayer we do not change God, but rather change ourselves and make ourselves and the Mystical Body of Christ more worthy apostol-ically. However, rather than examine how the apostolic prayer works, let us just concentrate in imitating Paul in his apostolic fight of prayer: "Paul is everywhere conscious of being but an instrument . . . but his prayer illustrates the depth to which that instrumentality reaches. He expresses in an incomparably living way the fact that, in the apostolate, God uses not just the external characteristics of the human person . . . but also his will. It is the whole man that is consecrated to the apostolate" (L. Swain, "Prayer and the Apostolate in Paul," Clergy Review, 1966, 464). Contemplation The second type of apostolic prayer is comtemplation when we abandon ourselves to be with God knowing that after all it is He alone who achieves all true conversion and gives new ilife. It is the sort of attitude that (~hrist showed at the Last Supper: "Father, I have glorified you; Father, it is for these that I sanctify myself." Apostolic prayer is powerfully efficacious: "Let each one remember that he can have an impact on all men and contribute to the salvation of the whole world . . . by prayer" (A~. 16,7). Pius XII said that prayer is the most powerful apostolate because it goes straight to God and speaks on behalf of men. ~I feel convinced that we uno" etr"e ts lma e our worth as partners with God in the dialogue of prayer. T. Me~rton said:~ "Man's real power lies hidden in the agony which makes him cr~ out to God; and there he is at the same time helpless and omnipotent" (Thle New Man, 8). Conclusion / In conclusion, apostolate and prayer are complementary. The apostle is contemplative in his apOstolate and apostolic in his contemplation. Prayer of intercession.is a typ~ical attitude of limited man. Some forms do become escapes and are Unreal. However, man who needs, is insuf-ficient in himself, loves and longs for life for self and others, finds in intercession a definitely valid f~rm. of prayer especially when that is directed to the growth and development of the kingdom. Let us pray with confidence, and determination and make our own the awareness and Conviction that Jes'.us showed in prayer: "Father, everything is possible for you" (Mk 14:36). I A Method of Contemplative Prayer ]. Borst, M.H.M. The following article is a reprinting of a booklet with the same title published by Asian Trading Corporation; P.O. Box No. 11029; Bombay - 400 020; India. The booklet is available from the Asian Trading Corporation at a cost of 50 cents plus postage and handling. The text of the booklet has been slightly adapted for the purposes of this reprinting; and the booklet's foreword by Abhishiktananda has not been included. There is only one way to become a contemplative; and that is by setting aside each day, or regularly, some time and place for prayer that is real, personal, and contemplative. Without the practice of contemplative prayer, no individual and no community can be called contemplative. No amount of other prayers and occupations can make up for this need. If, then, you wish to become a contemplative, get down to making yourself available for contemplative prayer every day. But how to go about it? In this article you will find some practical su~ggestions that have been found useful. But keep in mind that in this prayer you will be involved in a most personal x~ay; that you will learn to involve your deepest and truest self; that the Spirit of God breathes as and when He wills; that this prayer will make you a pilgrim of the Spirit, always on the~move, always more eager to reach the presence of the Lord. Then you will realize that these suggestions are indeed only suggestions. THE PRAYER ITSELF AND WHAT TO DO It is suggested that there are several "phases" which one can go through or "dwell in" in the course of prayer time. Depending on actual circum-stances or personal needs, one can dwell in or stay in one phase rather than another. Or one can restrict oneself to just one phase. For a start, it may be good to spend the hour for some days quietly 79O A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 791 seeking and remaining in an awareness of the Lord's presence and then, by way of exercise, go through the phases, taking one a day. After this, one should be guided each day by one's needs. From the start, .keep in mind what is said in the last paragraphs of this paper under the heading, It Matters liow You Live (p. 801 ). It should be noticed that earlier phases mentioned below prepare the way for the actual "contemplative" phase which, due to circumstances, we may not be able to reach every time. Phase of Relaxation and Silence Just sit down and relax. Slowly and deliberately let all tension flow away and gently seek an awareness of the immediate and personal presence of God. There is no violence in this movement: no suppression of moods, feelings, frustrations. Suppression implies violence and increases tension. No, just relax and let go of everything as you enter into the awareness of God's presence. You can relax and let go of everything precisely because He is present: In His presence nothing really matters; all things are in His hands. Tension, anxiety, worry, frustrations all melt away before Him as snow before the sun. Seek peace and inner silence. Let your mind, heart, will, and feelings become tranquil and serene. Let inner storms subside: obsessional thoughts, passionate drives of will and of emotions. Seek peace and pursue it (Ps 33; 14). Be ready, if necessary, to spend all your prayer time like this without any thought of result or effect or reward. Be ready thus to "waste" your time and make it a naked, selfless offering of time and attention for God alone. This movement towards peace and silence opens us to an inflow of grace; it creates conditions for a genuine, true, and personal love for God to be awakened in our spirit. Note that this movement is not just a neutral, psychological event; it is a movement of surrender and acceptance of God's will. We make it possible for our heart, will, and emotions to become impregnated with God's gift of peace and with His will to nonviolent love. Some may feel that relaxation coupled wi~h quiet breathing tends to make them fall asleep; it is as if one is tired and abandons oneself to quiet sleep. Here, however, we seek to become relaxed in order to be awake and alert to the presence of God rather like a sentry who makes himself quiet in order to listen for the presence of others. The mind, nerves, and emotions are stilled so that the heart may be ready: My heart is ready, O God, my heart is ready. I will sing, I will sing your praise. Awake, my soul! I will awake the dawn (Ps. 57; 108). Phase of Awareness of His Presence Sit down quietly and open yourself entirely to an awareness of His 792 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 presence. He is present to my spirit, attentive to my awareness. He dwells at the center of my true self, at the core of my being. Now I seek an awareness of this, but one day He will give me this awareness, freely. He is closer to my true self than I am myself? He knows me better than I know myself. He loves me better than I love myself. He is "Abba," Father, to me. I am because HE IS. In the mirror of created existence, I am His living image and likeness: when I know, I reflect His knowledge; when I love, I reflect His love; when I call out to Him, He hears; when I seek His awareness, He awakens me to His presence. In and through and with Jesus, He speaks His word of love: "You are my son, you are my daughter, beloved of Me, in whom I am well pleased." In and through and. with Jesus He pours out His Spirit, making me call out "Abba" Father! He fills me with thanks and praise for His wonderful presence. Phase of Surrender Before His face, aware of His presence, I surrender every aspect of my being; I return myself to Him; I seek to withdraw my possessiveness; I beg him to possess me, to live in and through me so that '.'I live, no, not I but He lives in me (Gal 2:20): my hands and wrists and arms; my head and ears and senses and brain; my feet and legs; each and every nerve and muscle and blood vessel and organ. May He accept all as an instrument of peace and render ;.t a clean oblation. I surrender my cares and worries; I grow in an awareness that if my faith and hope in Him are true there is no ground for anxiety and tension: He takes care and looks after His sons and daughters. So I let go of every-thing that preoccupies me, in a movement of faith and surrender. From now on I let Him lead me, step by step. I surrender my heart, my feelings, my love. My heart does not love with its own love: "Everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows him!" (1 Jn 4:7). It is Jesus who through His Spirit loves His Father in "my" breath of love. It is not I who love but He loves in me, through me. And His love is quiet, serene, ineffable, and enduring. I surrender my whole personality; and, beyond feelings, I grope forwards toward a gentle love, one beyond my thinking, "towards where One waited near, whose presence well I knew, there where no other might appear.'"-' And all my prayer is that in this silence He may pour out His Spirit and begin to live and reign in me. I surrender myself to Jesus my Savior and accept Him as my Lord. He has prayed and suffered to free me and to claim me as His own: "Take me and all I have and do with me whatever You will. Send me where You will. Use me as you will. I surrender myself 1The "intimior intimio meo" of St. Augustine. '-'St. John of the Cross, Poems, trs. by Roy Campbell (London: Penguin, 1960), p. 27. A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 793 and all I possess absolutely and entirely, unconditionally and forever, to Your control." This phase can grow into an ardent and insistent supplication for the Holy Spirit, for His outpouring, for His gifts, for an overwhelming sense of His presence and peace. And the supplication always ends in faith that He has already heard my prayer (Mk 11:24). Phase of Acceptance Many of our "natural" reactions are expressions and gestures of nonac-ceptance, of rebellion, of running away from reality, of suppression: it is our anger flaring up, our impatience possessing us like an evil spirit, our dislikes and grudges hardening our hearts, our resentment at interference and interruption. Without always realizing it, we often refuse to accept persons, events, situations, conditions, even ourselves, as God wills them for us and as He accepts them for us. This nonacceptance of His will in concrete circumstances is e~per.ienced in prayer as a barrier, a roadblock on our way to Him. It is His will that we accept people, circumstances, events as they actually are and occur, that we never endeavor to influence people or events by means of violence of the heart, that we bring to bear on them only the power of love and forgiveness, of suffering, acceptance, and thanksgiving. In daily life, this attitude includes: never judge, never argue, never criticize, never be violent, and try to mind your own business. And so in prayer I become aware of actual barriers of nonacceptance. I look at each barrier and deliberately accept God's will in this regard. I withdraw my self-oriented and condemnatory judgment; I withdraw my criticism. I regret my violence in thought, word, and deed. I risk the leap of faith and love that when I turn my heart toward Him, He makes each and every thing contribute to my true welfare (Rm 8:28). Acceptance of His will is in fact identical with acceptance of His guid-ance, His Lordship, as He leads me, step by step, through the concrete circumstances of my daily life. Through His will for me, He guides and leads me into His kingdom. His kingdom comes and advances where and to the extent His will is accepted and done. And so I lay down my own will and try to discern His will. My own thoughts and plans lose their com-pulsion as I seek to see His plan as it unfolds and as I endeavor to follow His pattern. Phase of Repentance and Forgiveness When we enter this prayer, we may be oppressed by a sense of sin and failing. It may be a general sense of sin and unworthiness, or it may be due to a sorry state we got into only iust now. We must face this barrier in a spirit of genuine repentance and true humility. We confess our sin, our failing, and we beg His forgiveness, and we thank Him most humbly for hearing our prayer. Then we face God as we are: sinful, spiritually 794 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 33, 1974/4 handicapped, and disabled in many ways--chronic patients. And we accept lhese handicaps and disabilities because He accepts us as we are and because He loves us as we are. We are not permitted to nurse a sense of guilt; we must fully and completely accept and embrace His forgiveness and love. Guilt feeling and inferiority feeling before God are expressions of selfishness, of self-centered-ness. We give greater importance to our little sinful self than to His immense and never-ending love. We must surrender our guilt and our inferiority to Him; His goodness is greater than our badness. We must accept His joy in loving and forgiving us. It is an outrageous thing not to surrender our sinfulness to His mercy. We may want to spend quite some time in letting all this sink into our consciousness. When we are unable to pray for no precise reason except a sense of unease and unworthiness, The Cloud of Unknowing may help us: Since all evil is summed up in sin, considered causally or essentially, when we pray with the intention for the removing of evil, we should neither say, think, or mean any more than this little word "sin" . . . . You should fill your spirit with the inner meaning of the single word '!sin,". without analyzing what kind it is, venial or mortal, or pride, anger, envy, avarice, sloth, gluttony, or lust. What does it matter to contemplatives what sort of sin it is, or how great? For when they are engaged in contemplation, they think all sins alike are great in themselves, since the smallest sin separates them from God and prevents spiritual peace. Feel sin in its totality--as a lump without specifying any particular part, and that all of it is you. And then cry ceaselessly in your spirit this one thing: "Sin! Sin! Sin! Help! Help! Help!" This spiritual cry is better learned from God by experience than from any man by word. It is best When it is entirely spiritual, unpremeditated, and unuttered. On occasion perhaps the overfull heart will burst out into words because body and soul alike are filled with sorrow and the burden of sin.3 One may also repeatedly cry out "Lord, have mercy!" or "Jesus, forgive me my sins!" until He gives the grace of compunction and melts the lump of sin within us. Phase of Contemplation By now I have put away all obstacles in my heart, all thinking in my mind, all wavering in my will. Now: Him I covet, Him I seek and nothing but Him (Chapter 7). It is enough that I should feel moved lovingly by I know not what, and that in this inward urge I have no real thought for anything less than God and that my desire is steadily and simply turned towards Him (Chapter 34). I lift up my heart to God with humble love. And really mean God Him- 3The Cloud o[ Unknowing, a book on contem'plation written about 1350 by an un-known author. It has been translated into modern English by Clifton Wolters (London: Penguin, 1961), Chapter 39 and 40. A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 795 sell who created me and bought me and graciously calls me--and not what I get out of Him. Indeed, I hate to think of anything but God Himself, so that nothing occupies my mind or will but only God . I think no other thought of Him, apart from my awareness of Him darkly but gloriously present. It all depends on my desire: a naked intention directed to God and Himself alone (Chapters 3 and 7).4 I turn myself entirely, to His presence. I steadily look at Him. His presence becomes more real to me. He holds my inward sight. My glance simply and lovingly rests on Him. My prayer is nothing but a loving awareness of Him: "I look because I love; I look in order to love, and my love is fed and influenced by looking.''5 "With nobody in sight, when all my house wa~ hushed, concealed from other eyes, when all my house at length in silence slept,''G I reach out to God in love. While I am quiet and exist in a calm and simple awareness of His pre.sence, my heart gropes towards Him and opens to receive His love. It is a prayer which is wordless, fed by a quiet ardor: "By love He can be caught and held, but by thinking never.''r There is a darkness which thought and clear knowledge cannot bridge, but only"longing love: "Beat away at this cloud of unknowing between you and God with that sharp dart of longing love.''8 As St. John of the Cross expresses it: Upon that lucky night in secrecy, inscrutable to sight I went without discerning and with no other light except for that which in my heart was burning. It lit and let me through more certain than the light of noonday clear to where One waited near whose presence well I knew there where no other presence might appearP This phase may well be sustained by a repetition prayer, carried on a quiet rhythm of breathing. Phase of Receiving God always responds. He cannot refuse a seeking in faith and love: "Seek and you will always find" becomes "Seek and you will always be 4Ibid. ~Dom Vitalis Lehode~,, O.C.R., The Ways o] Mental Prayer (Dublin: Gill, 1960), Part II, Chapter IX, Par. 2. 6John of the Cross, Poems, p. 27. 7The Cloud ol Unknowing, Chapter 6. 8Ibid., Chapter 12. ~John of the Cross, Poems, p. 27. 796 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 found." He seeks us before we seek Him, while we seek Him, and after we have sought Him: "I have loved you with an everlasting love so I am constant in my affection for you"--It is the Lord who speaks (Jer 31:3). He responds, He turns to me, He seeks me, He is anxious to invade my spirit. He desires that His Spirit possess me. I bask in the warmth of His love. I feel His gaze upon me. Jesus, my. Lord, is eager to possess my heart with which to love His Father and with which to radiate His love: "Anybody who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I shall love him and show myself to him . . . and we shall come and make our home with him"--It is the Lord who speaks (Jn 14:21, 23). "We ourselves have known and put our faith in God's love towards ourselves. God is love. And anyone who lives in love, lives in God, and God lives in him (1 Jn 4:16). He fills us with His presence, with His Spirit. We may discern Him only in faith or, through His grace, in experience. His presence brings a deep spiritual peace, a share in His "sabbath" rest, a greater serenity, ability to accept and to suffer, a lifting of despair, a welling up of joy and love, a floodlight, a compulsion to praise and thank Him. Or if such be His will, it brings power to serve Him and to proclaim Him, to bear witness to His kingdom, to bring healing in His name, to bring peace and unity to men of good will. Phase of Intercession There is need for intercession. Jesus continues to save us through His uninterrupted intercession (Hb 7:25; see Rm 8:34 and 1 Jn 2:1 ). In some way, He also needs to use our hearts for this intercession. True, we seek the Giver rather than the gift, but the Giver seeks to save His People. Through His Spirit in us He is concerned for all those who should be His People; in us He wants to intercede and suffer. We must plead and never lose heart (Lk 18:1), with simple and expectant faith. His promise is there: Ask and you will always receive (Lk 11:10). We must learn to pray with faith that He has already given what we ask for, as the Lord has urged us to pray: "Everything you ask and pray for, believe that you have it already and it will be yours" (Mk 11:24; see also 1 John 5:14-5 and Jas 1:5-6). We pray acco~rding to His will (1 Jn 5:14-5) for His kingdom in ourselves and in others. Lord, teach me how to pray; glorify Your name; Your kingdom come; Your will be done in my life and the life of others; Lord, grant Your peace to. ; Help. in his need; Lord, make your love known to . Often one may wish to "intercede" for a while at the end of prayer. Phase of Praise and Thanksgiving Jesus invariably thanked and praised His Father and taught His. disciples to do the same. The Eucharistic Prayer is such a prayer of praise, thanks- A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 797 giving, and intercession. When He has made known His presence or touched us with His Spirit and filled us with His grace and peace, we should spontaneously thank and praise Him. Perhaps the time will come when we shall thank Him too when we share in Jesus's loneliness and suffering, simply because His will is being done in us. Distractions during Prayer Wandering thoughts (distractions) are often a ,problem. We may be unable to ,relax, to let tensions go and surrender. Or we may be just very tired physically and mentally. The first thing to do is to accept fully this weakness and to remember that this prayer is for Him and for no advantage of our own; be ready to waste this part of your time as an "immolation" poured out for Him. In one way, a sense of failure belongs to the essence of prayer because through it it we learn to become truly disinterested; we seek His presence and love Him even when His face is hidden, when His presence is not discerned. This is true of a more general sense of failure: Imperfection and even sins are such a help to that humilityowhich is the condition of prayer that they seem almost a help rather ~than a hindrance. To feel utterly crushed and annihilated, incapable of any good, wholly de-pendent on God's undeserved and infinite mercy, is the best and only prepara-tion for prayer. It means an entire confidence and exultation in being nothing because God is all, which brings the only peace which is tru~ peace.1° Here are two specific ways of minimizing distractions and of keeping our awareness focused on His presence to the greatest possible extent,al Rhythm, ic Breathing Tension, worry, excitement all lead to short and shallow breathing. On the other hand, if we make our breathing more deliberate, more slow, and more regular (rhythmic), tension ebbs away and we become more relaxed and have a greater sense of peace and serenity. 10Dom John Chapman, Spiritual Letters (London: Sheed and Ward), p. 293. a~Distractions are of two kinds: (a) the ordinary distractions such as one has in meditation which take one right away; and (b) the harmless wandering of the imagination alone, while the intellect is (to all appearance) idle and empty, and the will is fixed on God. These are quite harmless. When these latter distractions remain all the time, the prayer is just as good and often much better. The will re-mains united; yet we feel utterly dissatisfied and humbled (see Chapman, Spiritual Letters, p. 290). Here we are especially concerned with the "harmless" wandering imagination while our heart and will reach out to God and are fixed on Him. The imagination here is like one's pet dog in a room; we like it to sit down quietly for a while, but it keeps on wandering a little. The two aids (rhythmic breathing and repetition prayers) are like two dog chains which keep the imagination from wandering too much and too far. 790 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 During this prayer, therefore, we should try to breathe in and out slowly, deeply, and deliberately, to the rhythm of our pulse or heartbeat. More precisely, breathe in through the nose, counting mentally 1, 2~ 3, 4, 5, up to about 6, to about the speed of your heartbeat, hold the breath a little (or some counts), and then breathe, out in the same way in a controlled and slow manner. At the end of the exhalation pause a while (for some counts). You can practice this rhythmic breaihing some other time also, for example, when walking er sitting quietly or lying down. At first, it :ne~ds conscious attention and control, but gradually it will become habitual and you .will do it without thinking. The following note by Father Hoffmznmay also be helpful: Although we cannot bring about contemplative prayer by our own volition, there are ways to dispose ourselves for it. These ways each individual will discover for himself. St. John of the Cross mentions the fact that some places are conducive to prayer rather than others. Likewise, there is a tech-nique borrowed from the East, but not unsuited to the West. This is the practice of slow, deep breathing during prayer, tending to hold the breath at the point of exhalation,az This has the effect not only of quieting the psyche but also of giving something to the inner senses and the reasoning intellect to keep them occupied. Then they will not interfere by vain introspection of what they cannot touch within. This, of course, is to be used only if helpful. If not needed, it would be a distraction. It may be feared that such breathing or the comfortable position mentioned above will induce sleep. But at this point of ihe spiritual life, generally speaking, the victory over sleep during prayer has been won.13 Repetition Prayers It is very helpful when a suitable repetition prayer (.or .','ejaculatory" pr~ayer) is carried on our quiet and rhythmic breathing. One can speak the words (with the lips or, better, mentally) either while breathing in or breathing out, or both. In view of the rhythmic breathing, the prayer should have a cert,/in cadence or rhythm to let it be carried on the rhythm of the breathing. The best known example is the Jesus Prayer; the text consists either in a repetition of the holy name of Jesus: "Jesus . . . Jesus . . . Jesus," or in the words, "Jesus, son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner." It a2j. N. Dechanet, O.S.B., Christian Yoga (New York: Harper and. Row) cited by Dominic N. Hoffman, O.P., in The Li]e Within: The PraYer.o] Union (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966), p. 217; the citation is the following: "To these three [phases of breathing: inhalation, holding the breath, and exhalation] already mentioned, you automatically add a fourth where the breath is held with the l.ungs empty. This promotes contemplation except ,when it is contemplation itself that~ has called for or caused this holding of the breath--that silent gaze of admiration that is poised on a thing." laHoffman, Lile Within, p. 217. ' A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 799 is carried rhythmically on one's quiet breathing, again and again and again, while one's awareness remains on the Savior.14 One may use other texts for repetition, for example, "Let thy love play upon my voice and rest on my silence" or "I with you on the cross no longer live, You live in me." In fact, .one could formulate such prayer.s specifically to express the phase of prayer one is in, provided that the prayer really expresses what one wants to say, and that its language is rhythmic, even if it be in a loose sort of maner. The Grail Psalms are fine examples of such rhythmic prayer. Thus one can formulate a prayer of surrender, acceptance, love, praise, thanksgiving, and so on. One may also like to repeat part of the Lord's Prayer in the same manner--either a very short prayer like "Abba,, Father!" or adding one petition, "Abba, Father glorify ybur name"; or make a longer prayer of the whole first part carried on a long, quiet outgoing breath: "Our Father in heaven, holy be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven." Such prayer may be a powerful intercession for His kingdom in ourselves and others "for the glory of His name." Finally, when one is physcially or mentally too weary to pray otherwise, one can use the Rosary prayer, quietly telling the beads, carrying the Hail Marys gently and rhythmically on one's breathing and dwelling with love on. some mystery of faith. One could say ten. to fifteen such decades in an hour. It has been found helpful to use the Rosary beads also for the other repetition prayers,during this hour of quiet prayer. Where to Pray I would say, in a place where one is completely private and alone, where one is unlikely to be disturbed, where there is not too much noise. Jesus says: "When .you pray, go to your private room and when you have shut the door pray to your Father who is in that secret place! (Mt. 6:6 [Jeru-salem Bible]). And He Himself "would always go off to some place where He could be alone and pray (l_;k 5:16 [Jerusalem Bible]). There is comfort in the fact that He did not always succeed (Mk 6:30ff.). Being together with others in the same place or room does not seem advisable, as the very awareness of other persons' presence often is a powerful psychological distraction and a hindrance to complete relaxation. 14The Jesus Prayer is described in detail in The Way o! the Pilgrim, trs. by R. M. French (New York: Seabury, 1970). Jean Gouillard also describes it in an appendix to Father Dechanet's Christian Yoga under the title, "A Note on the Prayer of the Heart." Swami Abhishiktananda in his book, Prayer (New York: Harper and Row, 1973), discusses the Jesus Prayer .in the chapter on "The.Prayer of the Name," and goes on to suggest our Lord's own prayer of "Abba, Father" as possibly the best way of entering into the life of the most holy Trinity. It may be noted that the Jesus Prayer has a scope and application which is far beyond our present concern (an hour of contemplative prayer a day) and looks forward towards a never ceasing prayer of union with God. 800 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 Ideally, the best place is before the Blessed Sacrament, the sacrament of His presence among us, and this is what Father Voillaume advocates for the followers of Charles de Foucauld. But it is a fact of experience that in many churches and chapels there is too much distraction as well as too much noise. Cardinal Lercaro sums it up: If possible, in church or in one's room; preferably the latter if in church one is likely to be called upon to perform the duties of one's ministry or disturbed for some other reason. Somewhere out of doors would do--but in general the place to be chosen is that where is least likelihood of meeting with dis-tractions or interruptions.1~ How Long to Pray One thinks of one full hour daily. This is the traditional time fixed for "mental" prayer in most religious rules. St. Peter of Alcantara says: When the time is too short, it is "passed in unloading the imagination and in bringing the heart under control; just at the moment when we are ready and ought to be beginning the exercise, we stop it.16 It is a sobering thought that one full hour a day represents just about 4% of all the time we live. It would seem that-the more active and distracting our daily life is, the more need there is of a full hour of "relaxing, coming to rest in God," We need the steadying impact of this daily "exercise" on our nerves and emotions. We also need the daily "healing of soul" and "opening to the' Spirit" in quiet and silence if we lead a busy life. In this way, through daily, silent prayer, God 6hanges us and renews us more thoroughly than throhgh other beneficial activities. In view of all this, one would not advocate the practice of having two separate periods of thirty minutes each, instead, of one full hour at one time. At first, one full hour see~ms dreadfully long, ~and the first weeks' or months' perseverance may be an agonizing effort. But gradually we get used to this length and attuned to its spirit of quiet leisure spent with and for God. But we must make the effort: Work hard at it, therefore, and with all speed; hammer away at this cloud of unknowing--and take your rest later! It is hard work and no mistake, for the would-be contemplative; very hard work, indeed, unless it is made easier by special grace of God or by the fact that one has got used to it over a long period.17 When to Pray The actual time m.ust to some extent depend on what is possible within the framework of one's work and commitments. Some like the early 15Cardinal Lercaro, Methods oJ Mental Prayer (London: Burns Oates, 1957), 'p. 207. 16Ibid., p. 206. ~TThe Cloud o] Unknowing, Chapter 34. A Method of Contemplative Prayer morning: "In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus arose and went out and departed to a lonely place and was praying there" (Mk 1:35). The morning quiet may be rewarding if one has succeeded in being physically and mentally fully awake (bath, fresh air!). Other prefer the quiet evening before sleep; at this time it is easier to relax and ofie joins in "an hour of watch and vigil" with Christ. Many people have no choice and have to take any opportunity of a whole hour free. It may mean giving up certain things we like to do. It has been found possible to have one's quiet prayer even in a long distance bus, in a railway station. Those living in community and bound to mental prayer by religious rule should perhaps discuss the time problem together or with the superior and see from time to time when each can best engage in this prayer. It seems worth noting that this prayer fulfills the obligation of mental prayer or meditation which religious and others have. Does this mean that one no longer meditates? As a special exercise, meditation may be dropped but as such it never disappears. The one who seeks. God in contemplative~ prayer tends to read and hear the reading from Scripture with greater interest; the liturgy and other spiritual reading makes one reflect; one continues to ponder the mysteries and the ways of God. Posture during Prayer This is an important point as bodily posture has a definite influence on our ability to relax and remain undistracted. The body should be relaxed but attentive; one's posture should be comfortable but not a source of strain or tension. It is said that there is least strain when one's back is straight. In a vertical position, one holds back and head straight when there is a balance like someone balancing a load on the head. Traditionally, there is a preference for kneeling (straight). Sitting may be more relaxing (again straight); a low stool (about 10 inches high) without back may be useful. Those who are accustomed to squatting on the floor will find this position more restful, again if the back is held straight. Many who begin this prayer find it best to keep the eyes open but fixed on some point or object straight ahead. When one's eyes wander, the mind follows and one's attentiveness is interrupted. It Matters How You Live The hour of silent prayer must be important to you in relation to your whole life as a Christian, as a religious, or as a priest. Most religious experienced their original call as a call to a life of surrender to God and of dedication to His service but with the addition that God seemed to promise a life in which they would experience in a personal way knowledge of Him and of His love. This hour of contemplative prayer is meant to lead you to 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 a fulfillment of this promise. But your life must be ready for this grace in a twofold way: (1) First, you must endeavor to express your continued surrender by moving away from violence to nonviolent and peaceful ways, from any kind of falsehood to utter truthfulness and inner harmony, from self-asser-tion to great sensitivity to the needs, rights, and feelings of others, from self-indulgence to an instinct for purity of heart and mind, from possessive-ness and greed to giving and sharing and to a preference for soberness. In other words, you must resolutely set your face against the vicious tendencies which grieve the Spirit and kill the soul: pride and prestige, jealousy and dislike, anger and violence, self-indulgence and uncleanness, laziness and greed. You must welcome with all your heart the fruits of the holy Spirit: true love, joy in the Spirit, peace in your heart, patience in your manner, kindness towards all, goodness in your intentions, trustfulness in your dealings, gentleness in inward and outward bearing, and self-control of heart and mind. All this becomes possible to the extent that you open your heart and life to the Spirit of Jesus. And human nature being what it is, it also involves a continual return to repentance. (2) Secondly, you must nourish within yourself continually a desire for God, for the fulfillment of the promise He held out from the beginning. You may not have the same intensity of feeling, but you should at least sympathize with the person who wrote as follows about this attraction to God: If it happens that this attraction that you feel in reading or hearing about this matter [contemplative love of God] is of itself so overwhelming that it goes to bed with you, gets up with you in the morning, accompanies you all day in all you do, separates you from normal daily exercises by inserting itself between your prayers and you; if it is associated with and follows your desire to the extent that it seems to be just the one desire, or you scarcely know what it is that alters your outlook and brings a cheerful smile to your lips; if, while it lasts, everything is a consolation and nothing can upset you; if you would run a thousand miles to have speech with someone whom you know has truly felt as you do; if, when you get there, you have nothing to say, no matter who speaks to you, since you do not wish to speak except about one thing; if your words are few, but full of unction and fire; if one brief word of yours holds a world full of wisdom but seems mere foolishness to those who have not passed beyond reason; if your silence is peaceful, your speech edifying, your prayer secret, your pride proper, your behavior modest, your laughter very soft: if your delight is that of a child at play; if you love to be alone and sit apart because you feel that others would hinder you unless they did what you are doing; if you do not wish to read or listen to reading unless it be about this one thing--then, indeed, there is evidence that you are drawn to true contemplative prayer which is beyond words and thought.~s usa Letter o] Private Direction by the author of The Cloud o] Unknowing (London: Burns Oates), pp. 67-8. A Method oJ Contemplative Prayer / 803 We discern a similar intense desire for God in the words of the hymn, "Jesu, dulcis memoria": Jesus, just to think of you fills my heart with joy but there is no happiness to compare with the joy of your sweet presence. More attractive than any melody, more exciting than any news, more pleasant ¯ than any thought are you, Jesus, Son of God. Jesus, you are the hope of the repentant sinner, you are kind to those who ask your help, you are good to those who seek you but who shall say what you are to those who find you! No words can describe, no book can explain, and if you know from experience you can only believe what it means to love Jesus. When you visit my heart, it is bathed in the light of truth, the world loses all its attraction, and an inner love is burning. Those who have tasted you hunger for more; those who have drunk are '-thirsty for more; but only those who love you, Jesus, are able to long for you. Jesus, be my joy now as you will. be my reward; may your glory dwell in me for ever and always. Amen. Two 'Ways ot Strengthening Desire for God There are two ways in which we can feed and strengthen this attraction and desire for God. One way is "lectio divina"; this is a kind of meditative spiritual reading, the rea~ling of texts which we feel draw us to God and to prayer, the kind of texts which at times you want to read only in small parts because even in small sections they fill your mind and heart with love of and desire for God. Such reading tends to keep your mind in devout meditation, leading to contemplation: "Therefore if you burn with desire for contemplation apply yourself to devout and continual meditations; it is the infallible way to succeed.''19 And another author has written: A work impregnat~d with the divine quality is the only kind a soul should consider. Needless to say, ,holy Scripture is the first and purest source of all. And a truly recollected reading is both pleasing to God and often instrumental in bringing Him back. Now in the state of quietude the soul receives,many lights enabling it to discover new shadings and meanings that were hidden before; these seem to appear effortlessly and as a kind'of enlightenment that is sweet yet substantial enough to be experienced~ The sot{l then realizes that this enlightening presence is tile Holy Ghost. God's gift is a higher, loving knowledge of Himself and an increase ~of faith in His Sacred Scriptures.2° The other way is to pray for the gift of pi'@er: "Lord, teach me how to pray, how to know and love You in silent prayer; Lord, pour Your Spirit in me in all His fullness; Lord, let me be possessed by Your Spirit so that you may reign in me and through me." It is clear frolh the gospel that a'~Lercaro, Methods, p. 252, quoting Father Thomas of Jesus on acquired contempla-tion. 20Dom G. Belorgey, O.C.S.O., The Practice o/Mental Prayer (Cork: Mercier, 1951), pp. 144-5. a04 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 (a) we must ask for the gift of the Spirit with expectant faith and (b) this prayer will be heard (Lk 11:13). In conclusion, let us sum up this part of the article in the following phrases: A song of devotion should not be lightly sung. Your word should not be lightly given, but once given, kept. This prayer should not be lightly started. Start only when you are ready and then never look back. The Lord loves you and needs you. He is waiting for an opportunity to enter your life. Once you have begun praying, you will never be the same. He will make use of you. It will be the greatest thing in your life. May He be praised, alleluia! MEANING AND RELEVANCE OF CONTEMPLATIVE PRAYER Here in India one is frequently asked by non-Christians, "How do you pray?" People see our lifelong dedication to the service of mankind; they recognize in our. celibacy a discipline disposing us to pray; they surmise the secret of our strength to be a prayerful union with God, the full realiza-tions of His presence within us and they are eager to know how we have arrived at this. Yet the ordinary good priest or religious finds the question hard to deal with. We are not accustomed to reflect on the ways, means, and objectives of prayer and on its demands on the one who prays. Most of us have learned the practice of prayer (a) by reciting certain prescibed prayers such as the Divine Office, the Mass prayers, the rosary; (b) by making half an hour's meditation; and (c) by occasionaldirect "private" prayer to God. It has been held that provided we are faithful to our prayer routine, we have done our duty. In fact, the main obiective of teaching prayer in the seminaries and novitiates seems to have. been to initiate persons into the prayer program expected of priests and religious and to inculcate a sense of faithful observance of this program. The program included a simple form o[ meditation or mental prayer. This was practiced as part of the daily horarium, and such daily practice was intended to help a person along the path of prayer through life. Prayer beyond meditation; beyond prayerful reflection and exercises of the imagina-tion and will, that is, contemplative prayer, was hardly ever pointed out as a natural development of one's prayer life; the impression most often conveyed was that it was beyond the reach and proper ambition of ordinary good priests and religious. Father Sergius Wroblewski, O.F.M., has recently pointed out'-'1 certain 2aSergius Wroblewski, O.F.M., Bonaventurian Theology o] Prayer (Pulaski, Wiscon-sin: Franciscan Publications, 1967), Chapter 1. A Method ol Contemplative Prayer / 805 historical reasons for this shying away from real contemplative prayer in the Church during the last few centuries: the lack of appreciation and actual suspicion of such prayer by most Protestant Christians; the excesses of late Medieval extremists such as the Illuminists of Spain;°--" the deporable controversy between Bossuet and the saintly F6nelon in 17th century France ("Bossuet's victory made contemplative prayer something to be shunned. An irrational horror of Quietism-03 prevailed . No one dared even breathe the name of contemplation").'-'4 There was a consequent lack of true perspective in the religious life and in the lives of many priests committed to celibacy.''5 At the same time Father Wroblewski points to the flourishing of genuine contemplative prayer in the Church, especially in the Middle Ages, in the lives of the saints at all times, and to the rediscovery of this prayer as central to the religious life and to all Christian life in the present century. Restoration of Contemplation to All the People of God In one way or other, this form of true prayer remained alive in the lives of saints and devoted Christians. But it seems that in our own day and age, the Lord wants to restore this precious gilt to the whole ol God's People. Father Ren6 Voiilaume, in the tradition of the saintly Charles de Foucauld, encourages the practice of contemplative prayer, in silence and solitude, preferably before the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, as the most meaningful part of the life of priests and religious. An experience of con-templative prayer has been recommended as a necessary preparation for those wishing to be ordained to the secular priesthood. Father John Dal- '-'2The Illuminists held that through contemplation they could in this life attain the beatific vision. Their view derived from a misinterpretation of infused contemplation in which God gives a direct experience of His presence. Against their view, spiritual writers stress that such an experience, while being a wonderful grace, is not by itself even a sign of~ true holiness. True holiness, which through grace leads to the beatific vision in the light of God's glory, is measured more by the fruits of the Spirit (Gal 5:22) and the living out of the commandments (Jn 15:19) in'daily life. On this see Hoffman, LiJe Within, p. 181; Stephen B. Clark, Baptisedin the Spirit (Dove Publi-cations, 1970), pp. 33-4; and 1 Jn-3:2; I Cor 13:12. '-"~Quietism: While in contemplative prayer the emotions and the mind and the imagination are quietened, the heart and will are actively focused on the Lord. This is the "longing love" of which the author of The Cloud o] Unknowing speaks. '-'4See Wroblewski, Bonaventurian Theology, p. 30. '-'.qn the religious life the vows express a dedication to the Lord and His kingdom which predisposes and leads towards a knowledge-in-love of God experienced in faith. When the cornerstone of contemplative prayer is no longer explicitly present in the fabric of the religious life, there is a lack of orientation and a distortion of perspec-tive: Love of God, the first commandment, must ever have the first place. In a similar way, celibacy makes sense, at a personal level, only if it includes a sharing in His knowledge and love of His Father. Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 rymple, for a decade the spiritual director of Drygrange Seminary in Scot-land, in making this recommendation quotes Father Henri Godin as saying, "Let all missionaries who consecrate themselves to christianizing the work-ing world be first of all contemplatives"; and Father Godin, working among the working class of Paris was no starry-eyed visionary.-°~ Also the Second Vatican Council has urged all religious to combine the apostolate with con-templation: " . . . as they seek God before all things and only him, the members of each community should combine contemplation with apostolic love."z7 But is seems that there is more to come; the Spirit of God seems to breathe over our modern, spiritually starved and secularized society and to bring it to new life, especially through an awakening of young people. Cardinal Alfrink, addressing the Synod of Bishops at Rome in November 1971, remarked: We are yet preoccupied with the harmful effects of the process of seculariza-tion, but already in many countries our young people again find the way to God and to Christ, commit themselves to the betterment of the world, and also discover the way to contemplation. All this happens quite outside the official structures of the Church. Should this not bring us to a serious examination of conscience? We may also point to the close connection between contemplation and the charismatic renewal movement (or Catholic Pentecostal movement): in silent prayer as in a charismatic prayer group there is a movement toward complete surrender to the Spirit of God in love, peace, joy, and thanksgiv-ing. In both forms of contemplative prayer there is also the opening of heart and life to the gifts and fruits of the Spirit of Jesus who leads us to the Father.2s In any case, just as in the 1960s secularization, with the reform and loosening of structures, made a deep impact on the life of the Church, so it appears likely that in the 1970s we may see a new outpouring of the Spirit among God's People and a reintegration of true contemplative prayer into the life of the Church as the heart of a lasting renewal. This may well be the answer to the prayer of good Pope John who wrote in Humanae salutis: Holy Spirit, renew your wonders in our time, as though for a new Pentecost, and grant that the holy Church, preserving unanimous and continuous prayer together with Mary the Mother of Jesus and also under the guidance of St. Peter, may increase the reign of the divine Savior, the reign of truth and justice, the reign of love and peace. Amen. 26Father John.Dalrymple, "The Seminary and Prayer," Clergy Review, April, 1964. zrPer]ectae caritatis, no. 5. zsSee Father Simon Tugwell's several articles in New Black[riars in 1969-1971: these articles have been published in book form under the title, Did You Receive the Spirit? (1972). A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 807 What Is Contemplative Prayer? To grasp the meaning of contemplative prayer needs some careful thought. Let us first look at the three classical stages of prayer. First, there is vocal prayer, a prayer of the lips, with stress on words, recited or sung. The text is often prefabricated "or readymade and is often beautiful and inspiring.There is also spontaneous vocal prayer. Then there is meditative prayer or meditation, a prayer centered in the mind which pictures, ponders, reflects, and thinks of God and His wonderful dealings. The mind seeks understanding and insight. In meditation the lips are quiet and the mind is active. Finally, there is contemplative prayer or contemplation, a prayer of heart and will which reach out to God's presence. The lips and mind both come to rest; there is a simple gazing (looking) at the Lord while the heart reaches out in wordless prayer and the will seeks to be one with Him. Contemplation is "the awareness of God, known and loved at the core of one's being.''~9 When we seek his awareness and find it in faith, we speak of acquired contemplation; when He gives us this awareness in real experi-ence, we speak of infused contemplation. Mature and adult Christians are meant to reach the stage of contempla-tive prayer. The three stages could be compared to stages of schooling. One begins in the primary school with reading and writing (vocal prayer); the middle school of prayer is meditation where reflection on life and revela-tion is the main subject, although vocal prayer is not neglected. The high school of prayer is the beginning of the contemplative prayer which we are recommending. One does not forget or neglect what one has learned at the primary and middle school, but the growing point of our prayer life is an awakening to God's presence and an opening to His Spirit. Further Understanding of Contemplative Prayer To come back to contemplative prayer, if you compare it to vocal prayer, you could say that in contemplative prayer you seek an awareness that what is contained in the words is really and truly present to you: "Our Father in heaven!" We go beyond ~he words to an awareness of His presence to Us, deep within us, and we dwell in that presence. The actual words used serve as the ringing of a bell, wakening us from sleep to consciousness of His presence within.3° If you compare it to meditative prayer, you could say that instead of running over the Truth reflectively, you come to a halt and gaze at it, awakening to His presence within. Meditation could be compared to the activity that goes into making and painting a picture. Contemplative prayer '-;gClifton Wolters in his introduction to his translation of The Cloud o] Unknowing mentioned in footnote 3. aosee Abhishiktananda, Prayer. Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 is, then, the quiet looking at the completed picture, seeing it as a whole, becoming aware of the reality of the artist's vision which it portrays.'al Beyond symbols (words, thoughts, concepts) one seeks to enter a re-ality which is spiritual and true, enduring, overpowering: God Himself, our Father, Jesus His Beloved Son, and Their Spirit. As this reality is beyond the compass of clear concepts, beyond description, our mind cannot see or grasp it, but love can discern it and the Spirit awakens this love and °surrender. The ,author of The Cloud of Unknowing, therefore, says: "He may well be loved, but not thought; by love may He be gotten and holden, but by thought never.'''~-~ The Lord may graciously return this love, and so St. John of the Cross can say: "Contemplation is nothing else but a secret, peaceful infusion of God, which, if admitted, will set the soul on fire with the Spirit of love." Real, Spiritual, Pentecostal Prayer Contemplative prayer is the only real prayer in the sense that it leads beyond words (vocal prayer) and thoughts (meditative prayer) to the reality toward which words and thought point. In this sense, all prayer must have a real or contemplative quality because vocal prayer may never be just a recitation of words, and meditative prayer never just an exercise in thinking. Now, the reality we seek is spiritual reality, a reality" of our own spirit, but preeminently the reality of the Spirit of God. Contemplative prayer may be called "real" prayer and "spiritual" prayer in the sense of opening us to the Holy Spirit, to His action, to His gifts, or "opening ourselves un- .reservedly to the cleansing and healing of our spirit by the Holy Spirit, in an awareness of His presence." It is at this point that we see the reason why contemplative prayer may also be called pentecostal prayer (and vice versa) in the sense that through this prayer we seek an awareness of the indwelling Spirit given by Jesus as our Comforter who will be with us forever (Jn 14: 16) and who will supply us with all the spiritual gifts we need. In all this, we can only point to the Mountain of the Lord. Each must begin his pilgrimage on his own two feet. There are maps and guides. Do not fail to ask people you meet on the way. But it is the breath of the Spirit that carries you forward and upwards; it. is the Glory of the Lord dimly seen or guessed at the end that draws you onwards. 31Father Ren6 Voillaume describes this prayer as "looking at God while loving Him." See also Dom Vitalis Lehodey (Ways o] Mental Prayer, Part II, Chapter IX, par. 2: "We look because we love, we look in order to love, and our love is fed and inflamed by looking" as also Cardinal Lercaro (Methods, Chapter 14) when he attempts a definition of contemplative prayer: "Contemplative prayer is an elevation of the soul to God through a simple and highly affective intuition." 3"-The Cloud o] Unknowing, Chapter 6. A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 809 In the Carmelite tradition the first stage of this prayer is referred to as "acquired contemplation," that is, contemplative prayer accessible, with the grace of God, to any good man who strives. St. Teresa of Avila calls it the "prayer of .recollection.'':~'~ Bossuet seems to have popularized the name "prayer of simplicity" which has been adopted by A. Tanquerey.34 And there are other names, equally expressive, such as "prayer o[ silence," "prayer of repose," "prayer of the simple presence of God," "prayer of lov-ing attention," and "prayer of the heart.''~ At the Heart of the Gospel and of Christian Life At times the impression is given that contemplative prayer does not belong to the gospel of Christ and is at best a discipline taken by the Church from nonChristian religions and adapted to the Christian life. Un-doubtedly, there have been many people outside the Christian tradition who have eagerly sought and found God in prayer. But a careful study of the Gospels and of the Christian tradition reveals that contemplative prayer is at the heart of the gospel and of the Christian life. It was the prayer of the prophets and of the humble of the Old Testament, of those who sought the face of the Lord, endeavoring to love the Lord their God with all their heart, with all their soul, with all their strength (Dt 6:5) and to worship Him in the contemplative peace and rest of the Sabbath. It is also the prayer of Jesus, ofMary, and of the saints. A study of the lives of almost all holy people will bring this prayer to light as the heart ot~ their disciple-ship and of their Christian lives. It Is the Prayer of Jesus Jesus experienced His oneness with God also in and through His hu-man nature which is in every way like our own: He took to himself descent from Abraham. It was essential that He should in this way become completely like his brothers so that he could be a com-passionate and trustworthy high priest of God's religion, able to atone for human sins. That is, because he has himself been through temptation, he is able to help others who are tempted (Hb 2:17-8). We see how He sought to live in conditions (o[ solitude, privacy, si-lence, fasting, watching in prayer) which render human nature more open to the Spirit, better intruments of prayer, better instruments of an experi-ence of union in knowledge and love with the Father. It was in such silent prayer that He learned to know His Father's will and that He experienced complete surrender in love. In prayer He heard the Word His Father speaks a.~The Way o] Perlection, Chapter 28. ~4A. Tanquerey, The Spiritual Life, par. 1363ff. 3~Lercaro, Methods, Chapter 14. 810 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 (Jn 17:8, 14), and in prayer He knew His Father in love (Jn 10:15; see also Mt 11:25-7). By sharing His Spirit of love and surrender with His disciples, He gave them a share in His union with His Father (Jn 17:21). In this way we have become adopted sons and daughters, sharing by grace what Jesus our Brother is in Hi~ very being: "And if we are sons, we are heirs as well: heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, sharing his sufferings so as to share his glory" (Rm 8: 17). Jesus, then, wants us to share in His own experience (in His human nature) of kinship to the Father in the love of the Spirit (Rm 8:28-30). In contemplative prayer we are led to re-create the prayer experience of our Lord, though in a very imperfect and faltering manner, to be made com-plete in the light of His glory ( 1 Cor 13 : 12; 1 Jn 3 : 2). It Is the Prayer of Mary There is a very significant clue to the understanding of Mary's spiritual life. It is her strange decision, a decision made before the Annunciation (Lk 1:31-4) in the face of Jewish tradition and of public opinion against the unmarried state.'~G This decision points to the unique grace that filled her from the beginning. From very young, she must have opened herself to an awareness of God and she must have experienced the joy of living before His face, the joy of being blessed with His smile (Nm 6:25). In-stinctively, she shied away from sin and evil, as casting a shadow over that relation, as tending to close her person to the Lord. In her heart lived the grace of the Anawim, the humble of heart, the poor of the Lord who singlemindedly seek His face and praise His name, and whose spirituality is so admirably expressed in Psalm 53 : Glorify the Lord with me: together let us praise his name! I sought the Lord and he answered me: look towards him and be radiant! Taste and see that the Lord is good; Seek and strive after peace! Those who hide in him shall not be condemned. Instinctively she was drawn to a way of life that would keep her free for the Lord, not merely in outward service but in inward service of praise a6In the history of Islam, which is so strongly opposed to the unmarried state, there is a telling example of virginity for God, against all opposition. It is the case of Rabi'a of Basra who died in Jerusalem in A.D. 801. She had a sense of utter be-longing to God, and in an ascetical life reached great sanctity and love of God. She profoundly influenced the contemplative movement within Islam (Sufism). Faridu'd- Din Attar wrote of her: "Rabi'a, the secluded one, was clothed with the clothing of purity and was on fire with love and longing, and was enamoured of the desire to approach her Lord and be consumed in His glory. She was a second Mary and a spotless woman" (John Subhan, Sufism, Its Saints and Shrines [Lukhnow: 1960], p. 14). A Method of Contemplative Prayer / Ill 1 and thanksgiving. She saw herself as the Lord's handmaid, singlemindedly attentive to His presence. If the Lord was going to bring salvation to His people through a poor and humble Servant of the Lord (Is 42; 49; 50; 52), "my chosen one in whom my soul delights" (Is 42:1), then she would be a poor and humble servant of the Lord, His handmaid, expressing in her whole life a bridal love and faithfulness which Israel as a people conspicu-ously lacked.3~ Thus, she felt drawn to a decision, if not a vow, not to marry, a decision which involved complete surrender in faith to His guid-ance; and He led her to a young man Joseph, gifted with a similar grace. She was a thoughtful person (Lk 2:19), treasuring the traditional poetic prayer songs (the Psalms) and the Lord's message through the prophets. She had the contemplative's feeling for language and, when in-spired, would express her own prayer in traditional song (Lk 1:46-55). She must have initiated Jesus into the Jewish ways of prayer. She--the Mother of Jesus, the teacher of prayer, and an aunt of the hermit-like prophet John the Baptist--she must have spent much time quietly in prayer and contemplation. The last time we find her mentioned in Scripture, we find her in continuous prayer, with the disciples, pleading for the out-pouring of the Spirit which her Son had promised (Acts 1:14). Relaxation in His Presence Contemplative prayer involves a search for peace, tranquillity, and serenity. We seek to meet the Lord of the Sabbath in His place of rest, deep within us; during an hour of rest and relaxation in His presence we give Him the worship of our lives. A major task, therefore, during this hour is to let tensions relax, to calm down, to surrender to Him in faith so that at His word the storm may cease, to accept His will. "Seek peace and pursue it" (Ps 34: 15), not with a violent effort but in a gentle letting go of all tension, excitement, anxiety, worries, the heat of desire, the venom of hatred, the weighing down of self-pity. One often meets the idea of "concentration" in connection with this prayer. Concentration yes (or should we call it "attention"?) but not as a result of a mighty and tense effort; only as a gentle letting go of things, a relaxing of our nervous grip on people and situations and the release from worry and anxiety. While all these gently flow out of us, there remains only one thing: attention to the Lord, awareness of the presence of Him who is the author and giver of all peace and strength. Nonviolence of Heart and Mind We must also be firmly committed to living a peaceful life. This is both a condition for and a fruit of this prayer. Our peace may be disturbed by all seven capital sins, those vicious tendencies that can hold us in their ¯ ~rA theme of all the great prophets. 812 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 grip: pride, jealously, anger, gluttony, lust, laziness, and greed. Yet the main disturber of our peace seems to be the passion of anger. This, at least, has been suggested by Evagrius of Pontus (345-399).3s Any yielding to anger (which includes rancor, suspicions, antipathies, bitterness, peevish-ness, touchiness) is bound to be paid for at the time of prayer. Prayer is a useful barometer, indicating unabashedly our calms and storms: "Prayer is the offshoot of gentleness and the absence of anger" (Evagrius). At the root of anger lies a desire for and attachment to worldly things and values: "What in fact would a man have to get angry about if he cared nothing for food, wealth, human prestige, and so on" (Evagrius). It is clear that we must be wholeheartedly committed to the mind of Jesus as witnessed to by His indwelling Spirit, as revealed in the Gospels, and as proclaimed in the Sermon on the Mount: no violence, no hatred, no evil desire, no revenge, no judging, but gentleness, compassion, willing-ness to forgive and to share, an outgoing love and forgiveness for those who harm us. Transformation of Personality Slowly but surely, contemplative prayer will lead to a wonderful trans-formation of the human person. It is clear that our spirituality and our prayer must be "effective" in changing us, else it will be irrelevant and a scandal. You cannot "pray" day after day, month after month, and remain the same. If you do, your seeking and praying is not genuine but a subtle way of hiding yourself from the living God, a subtle way of keeping the Spirit from intruding into your life. But real, contemplative prayer involves an opening to the Spirit. His gifts and His fruits (Gal 5:22) will be more and more in evidence. Through this prayer we more and more experience Jesus' personal gift to each of us: His peace (Jn 14:27). We are "healed" daily in the living water of His Spirit and grow towards the full stature of the manhood of our Savior. The author of The Cloud of Unknowing, a Medieval treatise on con-templation, described this transformation in a delightful manner: All those who engage in this work of contemplation find that it has a good effect on the body as well as on the soul, for it makes them attractive in the eyes of all who see them. So much so that the ugliest person alive who be-comes, by grace, a contemplative finds that he suddenly (and again by grace) is different, and that every good man he sees is glad and happy to have his friendship and is spiritually refreshed and helped nearer to God by his com-pany. Therefore, seek to get this gift by grace; for whoever really has it will be well able to control both himself and his possessions by virtue of it. It gives him discernment when he needs it to read people's needs and characters. It gives him a knack of being at home with everyone he talks to, habitual zsSursum Corda, February 1971, pp. 329ff. A Method of Contemplative Prayer / 813 sinner or not, without sinning himself . to the astonishment of the on-looker and with a magnetic effect on others, drawing them by grace to the same spiritual work that he practices. His face and his words are full of spiritual wisdom, fervent and fruitful, assured and free from falsehood, far from feigned and affected hypocrites. For there are those who concentrate all their energies on learning how to speak w~ightily and to avoid making fools of themselves, with many humble bleats and displays of devotion . ao Then the same author goes on to paint a painfully true picture of the person who pretendg to this transformation but who does not pray. The point surel3~ is that a man who has learned to be relaxed, outgoing, and at ease with God is the same with other people; and that whereas nervous and irritable ("angry") people are most unpleasant company, we love to see and meet a person who radiates peace and strength, whose sympathy is positive and outgoing, and who, moreover, is aware of my "needs and character." St. Teresa of Avila contributes her own testimony to the "effectiveness" of contemplative prayer: "If you will try and live in the presence of God for one year, you will see yourself at the end of it at the height of perfection without your even knowing it." The following witness of our times is more modest, yet equally positive: After less than two years' serious effort in contemplative prayer, I recognize the following changes that have taken place within me: Joy, peace, calm where before there was fear, tension, unrest of all kinds. Even in difficult situations and decisions, peace remains and solutions are brought about in most unexpected ways--not my own wisdom, for I just don't see, but they happen. Growing convictions of the reality~ that is God and of His Spirit. Glimpses of the Fatherhood of God, the sense of personal dignity and worth because of His personal love for me--replace former self-hatred and negativism. Acceptance of my work, its unpleasant duties, of criticism in peace and a more loving surrender. More tolerance and acceptance of others with less irritability. Given my proud temperament and nature, 1 see through His mercy that I have been prevented from many tragedies. There is a gradual discovery of the false self-idol, a desire for truth. Many psychological ills come to light, making me more free. There is a greater appreciation of the gift of vocation--more stability and genuineness in striving to live it. Other prayers and devotions are more meaningful. Desire for God,has grown. This gives me more courage in the striving--formerly 1 was much given to despondency and self-pity. I think it is true that faith, hope, and love have been deepened. I long to share this treasure. Becoming More True to Yourself Another wholesome "effect" or fruit of this prayer is that through the 39The Cloud o] Unknowing, Chapter 54. St. John of the Cross also taught that "a deep life of prayer in the Spirit comes more quickly to those who are given to solitary prayer." 814 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/4 action of the Holy Spirit, we become more fully and more truly human. Be-fore God, in His presence, we learn the necessity of being absolutely true to ourselves. We learn to see ourselves as we truly are, behind the mask of conventions, our poses and pretensions, our small and big deceptions. Gradually outgrowing artificiality in thought, word, and deed, false attitudes, our false self, we grow in truthfulness and genuineness. We become more truly ourselves, the more we are and live in God's presence. As we become more true to ourselves, because more t~ue to God, we shall also be more true to our surroundings (for example, more objective in our search for k~nowledge and in our evaluation of information) and more true to the people we live with. Our capacity for genuine interpersonal relationship, will increase. True charity (in the sense of ability to enter sympathetically into other people's feelings, situations, needs) goes to-gether with true prayer: the ability to be open and true to God and our-selves. How true the words of St. John: "He who says that he knows God and hates his brother is a liar." Sebastian Temple'° expresses something similar in his song ot~ the Happy Man: Happy the man who wanders with the Lord; happy the man who knows how to live. Happy the man who never seeks reward, giving because he loves to give. He seeks no gold, he wants no gain; he knows these things are all in vain. He needs no praise, nor honour too; his only. motto: To your own self be true. Happy the man who learned how to pray. Happy the man who has a burning goal. Happy the man whose service needs no pay: This man has found his own soul. Happy the man, happy the man of the Lord! Etfect on our Prayer Life The main effect on other prayers is to bring new meariing and a sense of unity to other prayers. One moves away from a routine saying of prayers according to a prescribed program. One feels the need, and one gradually olstains the ability, of giving all prayers a "contemplative" quality, that is, one makes them into real prayer and does not just recite or sing them. Initially, it may well be that one feels the need for a reduction of vocal prayers, an avoidance of repetition; one feels an inability to accept as normal prayer that is hurried or said slovenly, without due reverence or regard to its sense. But later on, gradually one may well be moved to return to more vocal prayer, especially of the repetitive kind (for example, the private 40"A tall, blonde, happy Catholic, eager to share his love of God. In his own search for truth he practiced Yoga for 17 years and was a Hindu monk in India for two years. Not satisfied, he considered embracing Judaism but instead found in the Catholic Church what he has been searching for. His newly released albums are And the Waters Keep on Running and God Is a Fire oJ Love" (The Examiner [Bom-bay], June 19 1971, p. 400). A Method o] Contemplative Prayer rosary, ejaculatory prayers, the Jesus prayer, and so on) because it helps us dwell in the presence of God and to "wander with Him." The Second Vatican Council also pointed to the benefit to be derived for the Mass and for Breviary prayers from a practice of mental prayer: In order that religious may share more intimately and with greater profit in the holy mystery of the Eucharist, and in the public prayer of the Church, "and that their interior life be more abundantly nourished, priority should be given to mental prayer over a multiplicity of other prayers. However, those community exercises which are traditional in the Church should be preserved and care taken that religious be rightly instructed in the ways of the religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 21 ). Surely, Holy Mother Church, in shortening and simplifying the prayers of the Office and of the Mass, wishes us to achieve two objectives, namely, (a) to make them into real and meaningful prayer; and (b) to give a little! more time for personal contemplative prayer. The Relevance o| Contemplative Prayer In conclusion, we may list some practical reasons that indicate the need and value of a daily hour of contemplative prayer: (a) We find that we have a number of irritating habitual faults and weaknesses which in spite of good intentions we cannot overcome (for example, criticizing, impatience and loss of temper, hard words, grudges, giving in to depression). These faults disrupt our peace with others, with ourselves, and with God. It will be seen that a sincere effort to seek God in silence and surrender, through this pra

Issue 25.1 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Religious Women and Pastoral Nork by J. M. R. Tillard. O.P. 1 Metanoia or Conversion by J6seph Fichtner, O.S.C. 18 The Church's Holine~g and Reh~ous Life by Gustave Ma'~t~lei, S.J. 32 Religious Significance of the T.rinity by Bernard Fraigneau-Julien, ~.S.S. 53 Contemplatives and Change ~by Mother M. Angelica! P.C. 68 The Crisis of Creatur~liness by Alfred de Souza, S.J; 73 Sdence and Renewal by Thomas Dubay,] S.M. 80 Freudian Gloom and Christiah Joy by William J. Ello~, S.J. 95 Freedom to IObey by Mother M. Viola, O.S.F~ 104 The Great Waste by Sister Mary Carl Ward, I~.S.M. 114 A Fresh Look at God by Patrick J. 0 Halloran,, S.J. 125 Poems 130 Survey of RomanDocumi ents 132 Views, News, Prdviews 135 Questions and Ariswers 138 Book Rdviews 142 VOLUME 25 NUMBER I January 1966 Volume 25 1966 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimbre, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ella~d, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J2 Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland 22163 Book Reviews. Norman Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX J. Mo R. TILLARD, O.P. Religious Women and Pastoral Work It is interesting to study fxom a theological viewpoint the history of the appearance in the Church of religious communities of women devoted to the active life. One basic trait clearly distinguishes them: in spite of the immense diversity of their immediate ends, all these con-gregations find their finality in the exercise of evan-gelical charity in the form of what is ordinarily referred, to as "the works of mercy." Whether it is a question of caring for the sick, of helping the poor, of educating youth, of assisting the~ aged, or of accepting and rehabili-tating certain categories of men: and women, rejected bye our society, the central activity of these communities always issues in a direct love of human beings., If one compares, for example, a missionary congregation of men such as the Holy Ghost Fathers and a missionary con-gregation of women such as the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, it will be seen how, in the same human context and with the same apostolic aim, ~the activity of such religious women brings to e~clesial activity a specific note of realistic charity. The priest preaches the gospel and administers the sacraments; the 'lay brother is occupied with the material needs o[ the mission; but the mission-ary sister attempts to incarnate concretely in the here and now the message of fraternal charity which is at the heart of the good news: she nurses, she feeds, she edu-cates. It is.this area that is her ministry, and in it.she finds the certainty of serving her Lord in all fullness. While in non-clerical religious communities of men (such as teaching or hospital brothers) there often ap-pears a kind of tension arising from the fact that these religious experience a sense of frustration at not being able. to exercise a priestly ministerial function, com-munities of women ordinarily find peace in the humble, day-by-day gift of their charity. This point seems to us to be ecclesiologically and pastorally important; and we would like to study it here ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., is professor of dogmatic theology at the Dominican House, of Studies; 96 Empress Ave-nue; Ottawa 4, Can-ada. VOLUME 251 1966 ! ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from three distinct points of view: first, we shall attempt to point out the theological characteristics of the specific activity of the religious women at the heart of all ecclesial activity; then we shall try to situate that activity of religious women in its direct relationship with the ac-tivity of the hierarchy; and finally we shall discuss the concrete possibilities of enlarging their activities in ac-cord with the needs of the Church today. The Work o[ Charity o[ Religious Women Is at the Heart of the Apostolic Charity of the Church In what does the charity of God's Church for men consist? To this question an answer can be given in the simple statement: the Church seeks to be a genuine in-strumentof grace by which the love of God Himself for men can be effective in the here and now of the human situation. In other words, in her charity the Church does not seek to love merely in her own name; rather she is desirous" that through her and through the mediation of her transparency and of her profound mystery of com-munion with God there may pass the power of the agape of the Father. This is the reason why her love for men is always humble and poor and never triumphant: she of-fers her heart, her hands, her toils, and her goods to the charity of God. It is in this way--and perhaps above all in this way--that she is sacrament in the precise sense that through her and the ministry of her action the One who is defined as Love reveals Himself and acts. He is that Love which does not remain enclosed within itself but which on the contrary radiates out to touch and affect all beings and all the reality of every being. To say that the Church is servant--and this perhaps is her most fitting characteristic in the present time of the history of salvation--is to say that she has no meaning except inso-far as she serves as an intermediary between the mysteri-ous love of the Father and men as they actually exist. More profoundly, it is to say that she is a mystery o[ charity; that is, through the total availability created in her by her love [or God passes the love o[ God Himself. It does not seem to us to be an exaggeration to say that today God wishes to love the world through the heart o[ the Church. In this Iove of God for men transmediated by the Church there is without doubt an internal and essential order. The dominant wish of the Father--and the entire gospel message affirms this--is to lead men to His king-dom, to introduce them already in this life to the inti-macy of His friendship in order that eventually they may share for all eternity in the glory of His Son. Christianity is not to be confused with humanism, however great the latter may be; its aim is always that self-surpassing which we call the "life of grace," and the Church can be faithful to her mission only insofar as she leads men into the fullness of the Pasch of Jesus. This is why at the heart of her action her fundamental preoccupation is always with the Pasch and its two moments of death to sin and of resurrection to newness of life. She exists [or the Pasch; she exists to proclaim the staggering reality of this Day that inaugurates the new times, to make present and active its power in the Eucharist and the other sacra-ments, to keep men in contact with this source of the love of the Father. A Church that would cease to center its life on the Pasch would no longer be the Church of God (Ekklesia tou Theou), the sacrament and the place of agape. Nevertheless, this paschal love is a total love of man in the concrete, and it has nothing of the abstract about it. It does not merely aim at.some small, secret zone of the human person (what is equivocally called "his interior life"). Without effecting an artificial cleavage between the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, it encounters the person as he really is in the unity of his person. On the one hand, it penetrates to the very depths of the human being whom it renews and re-creates by grace; on the other hand, its pervasive in-fluence reaches the entire extent of the human mystery. Between the mystery of the redemption and the mys-tery of creation there exists a profound unity, the link-ing bond of which is precisely the paschal event. The Father of Jesus is God the Creator; and the Son who is incarnated in Jesus is just as truly the One "through whom God created the world" (Heb 1:2). Moreover, if God sends His Son, He does so--it is the living tradition of the Church as expressed by Irenaeus--in order to save and to regain the fix'st creation that has been wounded by sin. The Resurrection is not simply a starting point, the ¯ dawning of eschatological times; it is above all the glorification of creation by the entry of a man (its King) into full participation in the Spirit of God. It is the ele-vation and exaltation of nature by the power of agape. For the Father does not give the resurrected Christ a new Body; He restores that Body of His that was born of Mary but now is flooded with divine gifts. He thereby lets us know--a point that we often forget--that His plan is a single one, that in Him there is not one plan as Creator and another plan as Redeemer with a clearcut distinction between them; there is only one plan of love that envelops all of human destiny. This, moreover, is the reason why baptism which opens the door to the world of grace is also the leavening pledge of the resur-rection of nature (Rom 6:5; 8:11; Eph 2:6). Paschal love--of which the Church is the instrument + + ÷' ÷ ÷ ~÷ J. M. R. Till~rd~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --is, then, a love that is directed to the entire reality of the human condition and that refuses every form of selec- . tivity with regard to the makeup of the human existen-tial. In its ultimate finality it is eschatological in the sense that its overall concern is with leading man to the glory of the Parousia. Nevertheless, it is concerned with the human situation as this is realized here and now. For here and now God loves man; here and now His Father's heart wishes to give His creature the benefits of His in-finite love; here and now He wishes men to know that in spite of their misery they are loved by Him; and here and now He desires :that the world be infused with the re-creation and healing of nature provided by the Pasch of J~sus. More than this, God the Father desires that this love, immediately directed to the nature of man and seeking to heal sicknesses, to console the troubled, and to succor the poor, should be the atmosphere in which there shines forth the revelation of that other dimension of agape which opens on the joy of eternity. In other words, the eschatological aim of paschal love--the prom-ise and the hope of eternal liIe where .there will be "'no more wailing, no more crying,, no more pain" (Ap 21:4) --can be proclaimed and revealed only by the action of ecclesial charity on the miseries and .sufferings of this earthly life. Charitable action in the today and the tem-poral of the history of men is nothing less than the sacra-ment and the seal o[ paschal love. The Church can pro-claim and prepare the happiness of eternity only if she devotes herself to the .relief of the suffering of mankind. It is thereby--and theologians do not seem to have real-ized this in 'a realistic way--that'she sows in this world the first fruits of the world to come. But it should not be thought that what has just been stated is only the reasoning of a theologian. To be con-vinced of this, it is sufficient to reflect with attention on the way in which Jesus realized His messianic vocation. If He fulfilled the figure of the Suffering Servant (glimpsed in the Servant of Yahweh Songs inserted in the Book of Isaiah), he did so not only by His death of ignominy but also by His pedagogy of mercy and.of tenderness (Is 42:!-7). He preached the gospel of salva-tion by "going about doing good" as Peter said to .Cor-nelius and his friends (Acts 10:38). And this good that He did consisted of simple acts of temporal mercy: healing the sick, consoling widows, giving food to the hungry, treating the poor with kindness, welcoming strangers without any attitude of segregation. The proclamation of the gospel was done in this way, and the death on the cross receives its significance only when situated in this climate which reveals th'at its finality is one o[ love and not of.power. And there are other manifestations of this. As a sign permitting John to judge of His messianic mission, Jesus in Matthew 11:2-6 offers His acts of love for the lowly and the poor, following in this the line traced by the prophecies of Isaiah: it is these acts that are the seal authenticating His vocation. In the merciful act of themultiplication of loaves performed out of pity for the needs of the persons who followed Him, Jesus according to John (6:1-66) reveals the profound mean-ing of the sacrament bf His .lbve, the Eucharist. In that case, once again, the act of temporal mercy, far from being merely an occasion allowing Jesus to speak about His doctrine, provides the climate and the atmosphere in which the proclamation of the Bread of life can burst forth. The gift of material bread and the Eucharist are not two acts artificially bracketed together; they are rather two expressions of the same thrust of agape as Paul well understood when he reproached the Corin-thians (1 Cor 11:17-33). Similarly, the washing of the feet (Jn 13:1-20) is not just a simple illustration of the commandment of charity and of the mutual service de-manded of the disciples; it is its seed. One last indica-tion can be given, one which it seems to us has not been sufficiently recognized: the holy women were the first proclaimers of the Resurrection simply because they were concerned to go early in the morning to give the Body of Jesus the care and the veneration that Jewish custom demanded--an act of humble mercy, but by doing it they became the first witnesses of the act par excellence of the mercy of the Father. We hope, then, that the importance of the above reflec-tions is understood. We do not intend to show here what John has so strongly emphasized; namely, that the frater-nal love of Christians among themselves is the sign of their belonging to Christ and thereby a witness to the power of agape. Our intention is to enable one t.o grasp that mercy shown towards all men, whether Christians or not, is the atmosphere which envelops and normally authenticates the gospel proclamation. In other words, we wish to throw light on the fact that we can bring men the good news only if at the same time and in the name of this good news we concretely show men that we love them "not in words, but in deeds--genuinely." For in the humility of their object these acts are the sacrament in which should gradually appear their infinite originat-ing source with its promise of eternal happiness. But this is an eternal happiness that does not permit flight from the suffering of the present but that, on the contrary, involves itself with that suffering in order to sow there already the seeds of eschatological joy. Once again, it is through the experience of the visible and the tangible that God slowly leads mankind to faith in the invisible; ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ 4. ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS 6 by the visible dimension of His chitrity H~ leads them to faith in the folly of His, agape." it is when seen in this light that the apostolic actii, ity of religious women of the active life receives its evangeli-cal meaning. Properly speaking, theirs is not the task of preaching the gospel wffh authority: this. fl6ws from the hierarchical function to which they do not have access. Neither are they like militant lay people wiih a inandate to take charge of a milieu and graduMly conduct it to Christ; although these religiohs women are essentially members of the laity, they pertain to a special form 'of lay life officially recognized by the Church and deter-mined by t.h'e directi;c~s of their constitutions which fix the quality of their mandate. Here we should note the confusion that so.me pastors and even some theologians cause by more or le~s fissimilating the life of religious women to that of secular institutes, basing themselves in this. only on canonical texts. Briefly, religious women of the active life do not ordinarily form a part of.what is called the direct apostolate. Nevertheless, they play an essential role in the work of evangelization. For by their day-to-day charitable activity officially done in the name of the Church it is they who assure the gospel of the atmosphere of mercy,, the importance of which we have shown. For. this activity to bear all its fruit, it is evidently necessary that it be disinte~:ested, that motives of the financial interest and of the material prosperity of the community should not take precedence over the apostolic anguish arising from love for men. Let us admit that in this matter there is often room for considerable con-version, especially in countries where religious commu-nities conduct their institutions without any outside con-trol. But under the p.retext of real abuses, one should not make a wholesale condemnation without any distinc-tions. By her religious women the Church creates the visible dimensidn of charity ~which according to the law of the divine pedagogy is an integral part of the work of evangelization. And let us add that their vows add to the activity of sisters an element which married or non-reli-gious militants do not have. For sisters are those who have freely given up human values as fundamental as those of nuptial and motherly love, of the possession of a certain level of comfort; and they have done this in order to give themselves more completely to the universal love of men. Thanks to them if they are faithful to their vocation, poor themselves and hence totally transparent garriers of the love of the Father--the Church is able to reply .to those who question her mission: "Look around and see: the blind see, the lame Walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:4-6). Far from being an obstacle to the evangeli-zation of the world, are not these religious, on the con-trary, its advance troops? Day after day they plough the fields in which the hierarchy sows the word and where other lay people lend support to the testimony of the love of the Father. In a word, these religious ~ire the sign of the love of the Father for poor mankind slashed by suffering. The Action o[ Religious Women and Its Relation to the Action o[ the Hierarchy O~icially--and it is told him from the day of his con-secration-- the bishop is charged in a special way with the love of the poor, the suffering, and the lowly of his churches. He is not simply the functionary which man), imagined him to be before Vatican Council II; he has the vocation of a father. And this implies that his heart is anguished by the suffering of his people. But to discharge this duty (and he will have to r(nder account of it on the day of judgment), he cannot rely only on his own powers and his own initiative. Here, as everywhere in his pastoral action, he must act in com-munion with lay people. This does not mean that he seeks to utilize the energies of the latter for the profit o~ his own projects and plans (this would be clericalism). On the contrary, he labors to arouse and nourish in them a conscientious and realistic grasp of the heavy responsibility that, not as pastors but as baptized brothers of Christ, they also have with regard to the concrete exercise of the charity of God in the midst of the needs of their fellow men, especially of those who suffer. For it is the Church as such, in the living union of its leaders and its faithful, which must radiate the paschal love of the Father. No one. can dispense himself from this law of his baptismal grace. Nevertheless, all are not called to live it out in the same fashion: there are special places in the Body of Christ, and even within the laity chari-table action can diversify itsell: in a number of ways. One of these ways will retain our attention here. It will be recalled that at the beginning of this article, it was said that all active communities of women find their definitive finality in the exercise of the works of mercy. But why is this? The answer to this question will intro-duce us into the very heart of ecclesiology. Let us recall that the mystery of the Pasch takes place not over and beyond creation but in it. The former is not the destroyer of the latter; on the contrary, it saves and elevates it. This is why all created values should hormally become paschal values. Accordingly, the gifts of nature considered in the light of the Resurrection appear as graces, primary and structural graces which 4- + + Religious Wdmen VOLUME 25~ 1966 7 ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 find their true meaning only in the Church. Everything human, then, is grace; and hence everything human as such should allow itself to be swept along by the power of paschal love. But in the human as it is concretely and existentially realized the differentiation of the sexes, plays a central role, and to ignore it would be a grave matter. Sexuality is not simply an exterior ~nd accidental wrapping cover-ing a common reality: it penetrates to the deepest mys-tery of man and woman and gives a positive determina-tion to that mystery. Each sex has a positive value that it alone is able to accomplish because sex modalizes the human along a given line. Sex, it is true, carries with it the entire essence of the human being so that nothing which defines and situates the latter will be absent from the one sex when it is in the other. Nevertheless, each human sex is under its own proper, unique, and ir-replaceable mode. In the man the human being is mas-culinity, in the woman it is femininity. And it cannot be in the man without being masculinity nor in the w~man without being femininity. Hence, the act of knowIedge, the act of joy, the act 0f love, the act of giving self are all in the man and in the woman but under a mode proper to each. The same is true of the act of pertaining to the Church of God and the act of serving the gospel. Hence the gift of self for the radiating of paschal love passes through masculinity and femininity. These represent the two positive and complementary values of the human through which the love of the Father sacramentalizes it-self. Man (the male) is above all power. He is power in the gift of physical life, he is also power in the domination of the world. In him cold reason dominates intuition. He structures, he legislates, he constructs, and he judges everything with a certain rigor. He likes to dominate, and his physical strength allows him to do.so. Accord-ingly, his proper collaboration with the agape of the Father is better exercised in an institutional ministry as leader of the community, as pastor, as legislator. But the woman is above all offering, appeal to communion, open transparency to the other. She is characterized by meraory and constantly sharpened intuition more than by logical rigor and deductive reason. She is made to receive love (as a bride) and to permit it to be fecund (by motherhood). She is heart rather than dry intelligence, tenderness and compassion rather than justice and sever-ity. She completely tends to the gift of herself in a con-stant care of little things, in the exercise of a delicacy and a kindness that sow joy. She puts flowers in the house and she sings songs. For her this is no waste, and she should not feel frustrated at not possessing what the opposite sex possesses. On the contrary, all this is her wealth; and this wealth is worth as much as that of the male. Accordingly, her proper contribution to the dif-fusion of paschal love should also quite simply assume this morphological, physical, and psychological constitu-tion which makes her what she is. She consecrates her-self especially to the dimension of temporal and spiritual mercy, of tenderness for the poor and the little--to the dimension which we mentioned above as the sign of the gospel Let us add that she alone can do this with per-fection: it is her charism. To say this is not to imply a right to the hierarchical priesthood which would thus be violated. Ther6 is no question here of such a right but of the assumption of the true quality of her being for the service of the gospel. Diversity of functions in no way signifies diversity in dignity. The charity finality of active religious women, then, appears to us to respond to the realism of the incarna-tion of grace in human nature. In our opinion it is one of the signs of the fact that the supernatural respects and saves the natural. Femininity as such with its own proper chdracteristics and its own special tendencies is thus assumed for the sake of the gospel. The motherhood of the Churcl~ cannot be better expressed. But it is necessary to go even further in our reflection. For by a special title the bishop links to himself this special charitable activity of religious women. They re-ceive from him a quasi-mandate, similar to that of the members of catholic action although it is specifically different. This gives to their commitment an official note: they face the. world as the ones officially responsible for the fidelity of the local church to the paschal com-mand of love for the lowly and the poor. It is, of course, to be clearly understood that they are not the only ones with the duty to radiate this agape just as the members of catholic action are not the only ones to give testimony to Christ in their milieu of life. Nevertheless, for reli-gious women this mission is more pressing for they re-ceive it "quasi ex officio": their entire life should be consumed so that, thanks to them, the Church may exist in an act of love and of mercy in the face of the sufferings of the world. The judgment that the world will pass on the quality of the local church on this point depends preeminently upon them. The bishop links himself to them in a notably special way in order that there might be assured the love of the poor which he is charged to maintain in a living and genuine way in his diocese. This is their ministry. And thereby it is seen how they are inserted into the pastoral work of the Church: they represent a chosen group to whom the one responsible for the ecclesial life of the diocese entrusts the ministry of + + + Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 9 ÷ 1. M. R. T~ltard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 charity. Hence they are not situated at the fringe of apostolic action; on the contrary, though not pertaining to the hierarchy, they fulfill one of the essential func-tions of the life of the People of God, for, as we have previously pointed out, charitable action forms the at-mosphere of the proclamation of the gospel. This perspective seems to us to be able to restore the breath of the gospel to the life of many communities that are too shriveled up within themselves and that do not perceive with enough clarity the implications of their mission. Overly orientated toward the perspective of the individual perfection of their members--and this individual perfection is clearly not contradicted by what we have said---, they forget that they are supposed to create in the world an evangelical sign within which the gospel can be proclaimed in all truth. It seems to us to be a serious matter when religi6us women vowed to charity feel that "they are outside of apostolic action," that "they are restricted to an activity of secondary im-portance when the world has such a great need of apos-tles," that "they are condemned to works of filling in for others." In such cases the question must be asked whether such religious institutions do not have need of a great movement of "conversion." The Charitable Action of Religious Women and the Needs of the Church Today There is one fact that has heavy consequences for the problem to be considered in this section: most of the religious congregations vowed to works of charity were founded at a period when the State accomplished nothing or almost nothing for the relief of human misery. In this matter the Church played an evangelical role of arousal and took the lead of the movement of mercy in the name of Christ. But today (at least, in the Western world and in the large socialist countries) the State--with the im-mense means that it often has--is occupied with tasks such as the care of the sick and of the old, the education of the young, the use of leisure, the rehabilitation of certain categories of men and women; for all of this per-tains to its area of competency. In this new situation, do religious still have a place? One thing is clear. Wherever religious parallel public institutions and retain their own ~schools, hospitals, or-phanages, it is necessary that these latter, if they are to remain a sign of the gospel, be distinguished less by the size of their activity than by their quality. Between a religious establishment and other institutions there should normally be perceived a difference with regard to respect for persons and to the attention given to them and also with regard to availability, tact, and commitment. A Catholic hospital, for example, should not be distin-guished from a non-religious hospital only by the fact that it affords a certain climate of prayer, easy access to the sacraments, and the assistance of a chaplain. It is further necessary ~that the very way of treating the physical sufferings be marked with the seal of the Spirit which, as St. Paul says, is "love, joy, peace, good temper, kindliness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness, selbcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This should be so much the case that a non- Christian who is being cared for there should feel him-self enwrapped with the love of God. When an officially Christian institution is no longer capablewthe reasons may be diverse---of giving this evangelical witness, then today it no longer has any reason for existing; and its continuance in existence is a counter-witness. It is clearly evident in our day that even in the institu-tions that belong to them religious women cannot carry out all the functions required of them for the welfare of those who come to them; they have need of auxiliaries and of employees. Moreover, it is frequently the State that confides to a given community the charge of an establish-ment of which the State remains the owner and for which at times it chooses the personnel who are to assist the sisters. This is a situation that at times creates suf-ficiently bizarre conditions. But in any case it increases the apostolic responsibility of the community: the com-munity in such a case has the duty of radiating the power of agape also into the active body of workers of the establishment. This stems from the fact of having taken charge of a milieu in order to flood it with the values of the gospel. This is a genuine apostolic activity bearing fruit on three levels: the personnel to whom the true demands of charity are gradually disclosed; the repercus-sion of this conscience attitude on the action of'these men and women; and those who are its beneficiaries. There is infinite need for tact and for suppleness, for complete openness, and for the absence of all proselytism. It is equally necessary that the community should never forget its primary purpose: the manifestation of the mercy of God for the poor, for the little, for those who suffer. In the case of a group of sisters working in com-mon in an institution (this is the only case we are consid-ering here), this situation restores to the community the meaning of its apostolic vocation, imposes on it a perpetual revision of life, strengthens the bonds of fra-ternal love, and compels it to achieve a state of radical transparency with regard to the gospel. For it feels itself being constantly judged in actual situations in the. close and common work of daily labor. And in the community it is the Church that is being judged. And I would say that the Church is being judged more in such a case ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 11 I. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than it would be in cases where militants of catholic ac-tion work in the same circumstances and in the same milieu. The vows--especially that of poverty the apos: tolic value of which must some day be restudied in depth. .--indicate that the community has chosen to act exclu-sively for the kingdom of God and not at all for any earthly ~;ellbeing however limited it may be. In. the com-munity, then, men expect to find a delineation of the Church. Hence let us emphasize that far from decreasing the charitable finality of religious institutes, the situation in which religious must work with non-religious actually extends it: the community must not only work itself for the service of love but it must also lead others to act in the same way and under the same explicit motivation. Nevertheless, "today's circumstances are constantly obliging us to think more and more of another way of exercising this mihistry of mercy. In this case the com-munity as such does not take charge of a given institu-tion. Each sister in accord with her professional com-petence is employed wherever she finds-a position corresponding to the specific end of her congregation. Dur-ing the day, then, the community is dispersed, each of the .religious going to her own place of work. There, in com-munion with the militants whom she may find there, each sister in her work tries to be both an instrument of the charity,of God and an active leaven within the laity arousing them to the call of the gospel. Unlike the preced-ing case, she does not pertain to a group performing as such a given function in the establishment. She is sim-ply an employee on the same footing as the rest, and her personal competence is the only reason for her holding the position that she occupies. In accomplishing her work she is not immediately attached to a group of religious working at her side. She is alone. Often she is in an indifferent "milieu, even in one agitated by forces hostile to the Church. It is there that the. Lord asks her to live her vocation as a religious vowed to the exercise of mercy and to do so through the quality of her work and in the network of social bonds that she creates with the men and women who are around her. _ This is a difficult and complex situation. The religious must not lose sight of the primary end of her institute which is charitable work itself. Hence, her central pre-occupation must not deviate from this central point of a direct and immediate relationship with a'man or a woman or a child to be cared for, educated, or aided in some fashion. She is not primarily sent to lead a militant life after the fashion in which Christians of catholic action act. Her mandate is another one, although---and we will return to this--like all the baptized she also has the duty of becoming leaven in her milieu. Let us not forget what we have developed above at length: in the name of Christ and of the Church the bishop has en-trusted to her in a special way the responsibility of radiating charity under the form of mercy, compassion, gentleness, and tenderness in the face of the sufferings and needs of human beings. She must above all seek this: that through her actions (materially resembling those performed by her non-believing neighbor) there may pass the entirely slaecial quality that the love of Christ Himself infuses into human activity. This is not easy, we admit. But if she does not do this, then she no longer responds to what the Church specifically expects from her for the sake of the gospel. And in this case through her defect something essential is lacking to the life of the local church; an entire dimension of the mystery of Christ is veiled; men and women will not experience the sweet-ness of the God and Father of Jesus. At first sight this function may appear to be less efficacious and less direct than the fact of militant action in a milieu for the sake of sowing the gospel message; than the fact of sharing in the struggles and the anguishes of the other employees and of thereby working for their liberation. Nevertheless, her function is just as necessary from an evangelical point of view. She responds to a ministry that is essential to the Church and that completes and consummates that of the other militants. For it is a question of a different form of action of the same love, of a mandate obliging her in communion with that of the militants to make the visage of Christ appear in the small part of mankind entrusted to the bishop for salvation. Hence, in the con-crete circumstances of her action the religious must always subordinate the other forms of her apostolic activity to her charitable function. It is easy to see in this kind of situation the new im-portance taken by what is called the common life. When she returns to her community, the sister should find the spiritual and loving atmosphere that permits her to reground her forces, to nourish herself with the gospel, and to judge her activity in open dialogue with her superiors and her fellow sisters. The hours that she passes each day in the milieu charged with providing her the means to grow in her union with the Lord must not become for her a heavy load encumbered with a multi-tude of oral prayers and with confusedly arranged exer-cises. Neither must it appear in her eyes merely as a slack period offering a little leisure. What it should exactly be is difficult to say. But it is clear that the essential should be an atmosphere of true prayer, of simple and loving joy. The witness of charity is so often dissipated by fatigue and by nervous tension that there should be a strong reaction against everything (even those things ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 clone under the pretext of devotions or of ancient cus-tom) which irritates the sisters. And it would be good if superiors, would re'member that to work to create in their houses an unpressured spiritual atmosphere is the first service that they themselves can give to charity. Up to this point we 'have reflected only on the exercise by religious women of their ministry of charity in the usual situation of the Church today. NOW it is necessary to ask two questions which more and more appear to us to be urgent: Should not religious women be more in-timately and immediately associated with the matter of pastoral reflection, their charisms between taken into equal count in this area? And can not their participation in the ordinary pastoral ministry be enlarged? Before answering the first question, we must frankly remark that up to now the Church has been contented to ~ttilize the charitable action of religious women and has manifested a certain suspicion with what they might be able to contribute to pastoral reflection itself. Our present day pastoral has been elaborated by r.elying almost exclusively on the qualities proper to the mascu-line sex. This can be attributed to various causes: to the fact that according to tradition access to hierarchical orders is reserved to men; to the fact that in the West the Church's ministers are celibates and thereby inclined to mistrust women; and above all to the fact that our civilization has not yet considered with sufficient serious-ness what is represented at the heart of the human mys-tery by the genius proper to ~oman. We are just begin-ning to awaken on this point; and the awakening is often accompanied by certain feel.ings of revindication and of aggression so that it can become dangerous and entirely lose its meaning. Up to now pastoral thought has had the tendency to see everything frdm the masculine View-point as 'if the masculine sex alon~ represented the human or as i~and this is still more serious--it were the human ideal to which the feminine should conform it-self in order to attain any real value. Hence, the con-stant temptation of pastors has been (and often still remains) to consider religious women on.ly as so many servants to be smiled at from the vantage point of the superiority complex of the strong sex and to,be employed at.will in any kind of work; and they have not sufficient.ly considered them as women capable of perceiving with the penetration proper to their sex precise objectives that escape masculine psychology and as capable of grasping with an original insight of their own the con-sequences of certain decisions. This points seems to us to be a very serious one. It seems necessary to us that the Church be converted in this matter. This does not mean that the Church. should admit religious women to a priestly ordination as some persons are beginning to maintain basing themselves exclusively on arguments of rights to be redressed and of sexual egalitarianism. But it means that the Church should become conscious of the irreplaceable contribn-ti0n of feminine thought and that she should associate sisters more closely with the effort of investigation, judgment, and criticism that is needed for the ordering of the pastoral activity of a diocese, How is this to be done? It would take too long to treat this in a detailed and precise manner, Nevertheless, let us remark that it cannot be a question only of a consul-tation taking the natnre, as it were, of feeling the pulse of the situation but without passing beyond the stage of the preliminary. The charism of the hierarch~ demands thatiit al~vays act in communion with the laity, men and Women. The ultimate decision is without a doubt that of the leaders, a typical act of their own proper p.astoral judgment. Nevertheless, it should be born of a delibera-tion in which the laity are involved as much as the clergy in a frank confrontation of viewpoints and in a common sharing of apostolic perceptions and of dif-ferent psychologies. There is no qnestion here either of demagogy or of feminism; it is simply a utilization of different vocations and of different charisms in an at-mosphere of authentic communion. And this seems to us to be the meaning of authority in the Church of God,. It is rare that a pastoral decision is a purely hierarchical creatior~. It is most often nothing else than an assump-tion by the hierarchy--thereby bestowing the weight of its authority and the guarantee of its charism--of a perception arising among the laity who are plunged, into the experience of the real and then thought about, reflected upon, and discussed by their pastors. Moreover, from the viewpoint of kingly power the grace of orders ~is more a grace of prudential judgment than that of intuition. Invention comes above all from the periphery, from the precise point where the Church is in contact with the realism of the human situation. In this way, then, the grace of the laity penetrates even to.the inner nature of the pastoral function. Among the laity we place in a special rank not only the militants of catholic action but also the religious women who are 9fficially devoted to the ministry of charity. At one and the same time they are women--hence they can voice the neces-sary feminine viewpoint--and they are involved in the sufferings of human beings, knowing not only the latter's complexities and temptations but also their riches. If it is true--as we have shown above--that the ministry of charity is bound up essentially with the gospel and repre-sents a fi'ont line force of ecclesial action, then it seems in-÷ + ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 15 -b ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O;P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 conceivable to us that religious women should not be fully associated with the work of apostolic reflection that is p]'erequired for all authentic pastoral action. Moreover, why (and this is our second question) could they not receive in certain circumstances (always in dependence on the bishop, rightly understood) the entire responsibility for the organization of the entire chari-table apostolate of a diocese? In the collection of various areas which we group indistinctly under the name "pas-toral activity," is this not one of the numerous domains where women are more naturally competent than men? Why must a member of the clergy always be the head of every diocesan activity? At a time when we com-plain about the lack of priests and exhaust ourselves in imagining the outcome of this situation, it would seem logical to begin by reflecting on our theology of pastoral action and by asking whether as victims of the sin of clericalism, we have not permitted the atrophying of apostolic energies, among them those of religious women. A number of initiatives, undertaken especially in mission countries, show that urgent necessities are obliging the Church to a profound evolution on this point. The right is conceded to religious women to perform certain acts which up to now custom has linked with the person of the priest: they can distribute Communion, take charge of the liturgical assembly on Sunday, and catechize. The somewhat "sensational" cases should not rivet attention on themselves and thus prevent the Church from per-ceiving the numerous, more ordinary forms of activity which she can officially leave to the genius and the con-science of religious women. We have mentioned here the pastoral work of charity, but the same reasons would be valid for the organization of catechetical activity (on the condition that the sisters in charge be truly com-petent and not content themselves, as too often happens, with a hastily acquired and thin layer of catechetics) and for certain aspects of pastoral activity with regard to the family. A few minutes ago we mentioned the example of the women who set out at dawn to embalm the Body of the Lord and become the first witnesses of His Resurrection. Entirely like Mary, the woman who was the first witness of His Incarnation, they are the witnesses of the silent and hidden activities of God which are, nevertheless, His most fundamental ones. Is not woman even on the physi-cal level the first witness and the first receiver of human life as it comes into existence in secret? There is in this a mysterious harmony, sign of a providential vocation. This vocation is accomplished in the Christian bride whose femininity becomes grace and salvation for her husband and their children. It is accomplished in the contempla- tive nun hidden in silence and burning out her life for the Church. It is also accomplished in the religious woman of the active life who bends over human misery to bring it the most perceptible sign of the tenderness of God. The Christian woman has the marvelous and irre-placeable task of becoming the living sign of the Church as Bride and Mother. It is necessary that our pastoral awaken to this vocation of theirs and respect it for the glory of the gospel and the salvation of the world. + VOLUME 25, 1966 17 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Metanoia or Conversion Joseph Fichthe.r, O.S.C., teaches at Crosier House of Studies; 2620 East Wallen Road; Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 Since we religious are living .in an age of Chuich re-newal and reform, we can ask ourselves the question: What are we contributing to this movement? Is the movement likely to succeed if we merely let ourselves passively be swept up into it? Religious orders have a precedent of active participation in the many past Church reforms. They can take their cue from a fairly long list of orders who, somehow or other, were in-strumental in either initiating renewal and reform or carrying them through. Perhaps the most famous instance of a religious order undertaking reform of its monastic life and thereby lead-ing the way to full-scale Church reform is that of the Cistercians. As Father George H. Tavard, A.A., already pointed out in a lecture to major superiors at Den-ver, July 1, 1964, the Lorraine and Cluniac monastic re-forms spearheaded the whole Gregorian reform within the Church 0050-1200). St. Bernard wrote De consider-atione, a pattern of reform for Pope Eugenius III to use upon the administration of the Roman See. In the thir-teenth century, the mendicant movement of Franciscan and Dominican Friars coincided with the reforms of the Fourth Lateran Council and of Pope Innocent III. It is a fact of Counter-Reformation history that the Jesuits with their military structure and educational purpose and the Capuchins with their simplicity and austerity of life implemented the Trentine reform. This historical precedent comes closer to home when we recall that the canons regular followed in the wake of the Gregorian reform, when, for the first time in history, the idea of reform spread to the whole Church. Charles Dereine, S. J., noted how the canons regular helped to revive eremitical life in the thirteenth century,x The eremitical life did not last long among them because it was encroached upon by lay people, especially the conversi, who looked to the eremitical 1 Les chanoines reguliers au DiocOse de LiOge avant saint Norbert (Louvain~ University of Louvain, !952). groups for spiritual guidance and help (cura ani-marum). At their beginnings, after the example of their leaders was sufficient rule, the groups fell under the influence of the Rule of St. Augustine. But the choice of the Augustinian Kule, whenever it was made, engendered a delicate problem of conscience. Should the charter members adopt the canonical customs then in use or return to the primitive ideal of austerity and poverty? This was the step of capital importance in canonical reform. Carolingian law had granted the canons the right of abandoning private property in order to lead an apostolic life. A few groups opted for the new order (ordo horus in contrast to the ordo antiquus), a way of life which was more austere especially in the matter of poverty. Their option was vitally important, if not difficult, in an age of canonical reform. They had the alternative of affiliating themselves with Cistercian communities. I mention this bit of past history because obviously it stands parallel to our own day. Religious are now in a position to maintain the status quo (which eventually will die and decay); to merge with other religious groups who have similar constitutions, customs, and spirit, or at least associate with them in apostolic works (and this is a conciliar recommendation); or to forge ahead with the Church. It is essential for religious today to recognize and evaluate their role within the context of the Christian life. To fail to do so is to become purposeless and nondescript. They can only begin to reform if they knew beforehand why and how and what and whom they are to renew and reform. One of the aims listed for the present reform, in fact the first on the list, is "to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful." s Religious must count themselves among the faithful because of their consecration to God through baptism. Over and above baptism, the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration . It is indeed a special consecration which per-fects the former one, inasmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.¯ The role of the religious, then, particularly iri a time of spiritual renewal and reform, is to bear witness for the Church socially and publicly by a way of life which "radiantly shines forth" and shows that "the kingdom ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 1. ¯ Pope Paul VI, dllocution on Religious Life, May 25, 1964. 4- 4- Cor~erslon VOLUME 25~ 1966 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of Christ is not of this world." 4 They bear witness by means of the vows, the three signs "which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to ~an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian vocation.''~ The Decree on Ecumenism dispels any doubt that vows constitute a mere external show; Church renewal demands a change of heart, a renewal of the inner life of our minds, self-denial and an unstinted love.e If religious are to have a leading role in renewing the Church, they must be in the vanguard of :that ',spiritual ecumenism" which amounts to a change of heart, holiness of life, and prayer. One of the characteristics of the present reform move-ment within the Church is the return to original sources, especially biblical and patristic. At the same time that the Church wants to update herself, she is taking a hard look backward at her beginnings. The very idea of reform conjures up the biblical theme of metanoia, repentance or conversion. Throughout salva-tion history, both under the Old and. New Testaments, God repeatedly issues a call to repentance. What re-newal and reform we are experiencing today fits into the biblical background ofmetanoia. The prophets of old--Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, Ezekiel --were reformers. They called upon the people of Israel. wandering away from Yahweh to "turn back" to him, to "repent." Here we have the original Hebrew notion of reform translated by the Septuagint but especially by the New Testament into the Greek metanoia. A few examples will have to suffice. The prophet Amos enumerates the natural calamities which befall Israel for its sins; and then he quickly adds almost like a refrain: "Yet you returned not to me, says the Lord" (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11). "In their*affliction [Hosea is speaking for Yahweh], they shall look for me: 'Come, let us return to the Lord, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal' us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds' " (6:1). "Perhaps," writes Jeremiah, "when the house of Judah hears all the evil I have in mind to do to them, they will turn back each from his evil way, so that I may forgive their wickedness and their sin" (36:3). Ezekiel adds the note that the Israelites must make for themselves "a new heart and a new spirit" (18:31). The general prophetical teaching was that Israel, having personally sinned against the Lord, should per-sonally repent. Return to Yahweh meant that Israel should be orientated toward Yahweh and His will be-cause He is its God. Basic to repentance .was the de- ¯ Paul VI, ~lllocution on Religious LiIe. ~ Constitution on the Church, n. 44. e Decree on Ecumenism, n. 7. mand that Israel direct its whole existence to God and unconditionally accept Him in all events. To repent was to obey His will, to trust Him absolutely and be cautious about human help (alliances with other na-tions). Repentance had both a positive and negative aspect to it. By returning to Yahweh Israel would take up a new direction but likewise turn away from evil. Real repentance must be an inner renewal, a renewal of life, which is not possible without divine assistance. When we turn to the" New Testament, we find that it retains the past teaching on metanoia but lends empha-sis here and there. There seems to be more insistence upon the positive and interior aspect, that of changing one's mentality, attitude, feeling. Metanoia supposes error in conduct, repentance for past fault, and a con-version of one's whole person to a way willed by God in order to. ready oneself for entrance into His kingdom. Baptism, faith, repentance, love, poverty of spirit, all enter into the nature of metanoia. Metanoia requires personal responsibility coupled with the gift of God. John the Baptist was the first to take up the prophetic cry: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2; Mk 1:4). The cry, however, is more categorical because given in view of an eschatological revelation. Conversion is for everybody; it must be authentic, a change of nature from within. Jesus too preaches con-version: "Repent and believe in the gospel"; "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mk 1:15; Mt 4:17). But he goes beyond the Baptist in realizing the eschatological kingdom in His own Person. The purpose of His mission is to bring repentance: "I have not come to call the just, but sinners, to repentance" (Lk 5:32). The. metanoia which Jesus proclaims is really the will of God, a salvific way of life. One enters into such a way of life by converting or changing into a different man (see Mt 18:3). The close tie between monastic reform and the re-form of the entire Church was never better envisioned than by the early Church fathers. In fact, it is possible to trace historically a progression of the idea of reform from what concerns the individual Christian to monastic life and to the universal Church. The idea of reform became effective as a supra-individual force at a rather early date, particularly in monasticism. Within monasti-cism itself there has been a whole series o1: reforms. Today we tend to apply reform first of all to social entities and institutions rather than to individuals. How effective such a sweeping measure can be, remains to be seen. For a broad, ecclesiastical pattern of reform, follow-ing upon the principles already laid down in the Scrip-÷ ÷ ÷ owoersion VOLUME 25, 1966 21 + ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures, we have to resort to patri~tic writings. It is impossible, o[ course, to go into anything like a complete survey of their writings, but one can at least gain a few insights from Gerhart B. Ladner's~ monumental work,' The Idea o[ Reform.~ I am indebted to him fo~ the following all-too:brief summary. Ladner draws this definition of reform from Scriptural and patristic sources: "the idea of [ree, intentional and ever perfectible, multiple, prolonged and evdr repeated efforts by man to reassert and augment values pre-existent in the spiritual-material compound of the world." The Greek fathers generally regarded reform as a return to paradise. Baptism begins this reform because it is a return to innocence. Because innocence is often lost and because baptism is unrep~atable, reform is mostly postbaptismal, a long process of many starts. If man is to reform himself, he has to make a conscious pursuit of ends. He starts with an intention rather than with spontaneity or urge or response. The key feature then of Greek patristic reform ideology was the return to a state of innocence through a. continual spiritual regeneration. Man has to be reconditioned into a state equivalent to his original state. Gregory of Nyssa in particular, with his mystical bent, accounted for this development of the Pauline.theme of the "new creature" and "new creation." Now the question, how is man to be renewed, brings us to a consideration of the' second salient feature of reform ideology, a feature found mostly among the writings of the Latin fathers. They proposed that man who originally was made in the image of God should be reformed according to and in the image of God (Christ). Although the early fathers felt that reform meant a withdrawal from the world rather than a penetration of it, or at least a juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane, and hence relied upon monasticism to bring about reform, the idea gradually dawned that the whole Church should undergo reform. St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and St. Hilary of Poitiers were of the earlier mentality. Then under Gregory VII, the idea of reform began to envelop the Church as a whole, and finally Innocent III and Thomas Aquinas extended it to entire Christendom, to the political, socio-economic, and ~ultural milieu which the Church helped to form or in-fluence. Implicit in this idea was the re-imaging of man not only individually but socially. Reforming man to the image-likeness of God was the inspirational idea behind ~Gerhart B. Ladner, The Idea o[ Re[orm (Cambridge: Harvard, 1959). all the reform movements in early and medieval Christianity. A third renewal theme, for which St. Augustine was mainly responsible, was that of the kingdom of God. St. Augustine, ,however, had such a high opinion of the Church as the kingdom of God upon earth which was on its way to becoming the heavenly kingdom that he refused to see any need of its reform. That is why he formulated the idea of the City of God which permits into its environs both sinners .and saints until the sin-ners are weeded out at the-parousia. He and Tertullian (before his defection from the Church) struck a more positive and futuristic note by teaching a' renewal for the better. For Augqstine in particular, fourth century Pelagianism was an occasion to take stock of the ideology of reform. Pelagianism represented a reform movement based upon the belief that man can reform himself and the world on his own. Contrariwise, Augustine fought against the temptation of relaxing personal effort and simply trusting in God. His intention was to strike a balance between God's grace and man's will. Reliance upon God and personal responsibility must go together in order to attain the kingdom of God. In the Christian East and West while the Church was building up, the need was ever felt for individual and social reform. But who was to initiate it? ,Only special members and organisms within the Church's body, namely, monasticism. The East and West differed not merely in reform ideology; they differed too in their attitude toward monastic life. The Greeks leaned strongly toward contemplation, the Latins toward the active life of charity for God and man. The western-minded Augustine mapped out a program of reform for monastic and quasi-monastic life for clerics and lay-people. Such was the principal and practical way in which he wished reform to be carried into effect. The monk-priests and laymen were to join together in the City of God to bring about a renewal for the better. ¯ It is evident from thi~ patristic perspective that re-newal and reform must take into account the past and present and future. If we look back over the condition of religious life since World War II, the thought strikes us. that religious institutes have been passing through a phase of de-velopment. Consciously or unconsciously, they have been engaged in a reform movement for almost twenty years. The movement seerhs to have begun officially with the first ~eneral congress 6f religious held in Rome near the close .of the Holy Year, 1950. At this meeting, on December 8th, Pope Pius XII delivered an allocution in + + + VOLUME 25, 1966 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which he outlined three reasons why religious should update themselves: For the changed c~nditions of the world which the Church must~ encounter, certain points of doctrine touching upon the status and condition of moral perfection, not to mention the pressing needs of the apostolic work which you have so widely and so generously undertaken, all these have called you to devote your-selves to this systematic study and discussion. The same reasons prompted the Sacred Congregation of Religious to summon the First National Congress of Religious of the United States at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. Part and parcel of the whole reform movement within the religious orders were the researches into their past histories. The studies in some instances may not have been altogether conclusive, but at least they pointed out lines of development. They put religious into a position where they have to either retain or reject the essentials of their past, paralleling the present-day Church reform which will not abandon the basic struc-ture of the Church, Religious have to decide what sort of growth they want', homogeneous or heterogeneous. To be or remain a homogeneous body, the religious insti-tute, as the schema De religiosis recommends, must faithfully retain its nature, purpose, special spirit, and sound tradition--everything which constitutes the patrimony of the institute. The historian John Tracy Ellis called attention to this necessity in his address to the Paulists on the occasion of the diamond jubilee celebration of St. Paul's College, Washington, D.C., January 25, 1965. In this era of change he advised "the parallel need of holding fast to a sense of history if we are to escape the consequences, of mere change for change's sake, of what I would call--if the term be allowed---the curse of 'presentism.' " The historical researches accomplished at least one thing: they gave the orders more or less a sense of identity. Erik H. Erikson, the psychologist, defined per-sonal identity as follows: The term identity expresses such a mutual relation in that it connotes both a persistent sameness within oneself (self-same-ness) and a persistent sharing of some kind of essential charac-ter with others. Although his definition fits personal identity, it is analogically applicable to the "moral persons" which re-ligious orders are. A sense of identity is most important for normal psychological and spiritual renewal. The man who cannot identify himself is either an amnesia victim or is ignorant or leads a schizophrenic existence. If young candidates entering a religious order cannot identify themselves with it because there is nothing to identify with, the more is the pity. As Pope Paul VI stated in his address to religious referred to above, the work of general chapters is to accommodate constitutions to "the changed conditions of the times"; but it must be done in such a wa~ that "the proper nature and discipline of the institute is kept intact." No renovation of discipline is to be intro-duced excepting what accords with "its specific pur-pose." Therefore, until this accommodation of discipline is duly processed and brought into .juridic effect, let the religious mem-bers not introduce anything new 0n their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline nor give way to censorious crit-icism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and' obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same, in all its integrity,s The Pope certainly did not have in mind the ,idea of implementing constitutions to the point where they are voluminous, minutely detailed, and unlivable; for such constitutions can easily cramp the style of religious liv-ing. "Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life," remarked Pope Paul "It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them." 0 It is particularly irksome to men, and I suppose to women too, to be ruled by many minute prescriptions. But in the meanwhile; while the constitutions are under study or revision, it will not do to adopt or maintain "the practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved" 10 which sap the strength of religious discipline. Is there a behavioral pattern, psychological and socio-logical, which religious can follow in order to promote metanoia for the present and into the future? Govern-ment and business have had psychological and socio-logical studies made to 'guide societies and institutions toward self-renewal. They have begun to understand the processes, reasons, and conditions for the growth and decline in societies.11 Of course we cannot accept the complete structure and dynamics of reform which they use; but they have been able to outline a good, comprehensive pattern of reform. The following, then, will be some explanation of the principles of self-renewal pertinent to religious orders. Religious orders s Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 9 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 10 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 11 See John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal, the Individual and Inno. vative Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1963). VOLUME 251 1966 ÷ 4- 4. ]oseph Fichtner, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS cannot grow as supernatural cells within the body of the Church unless they accept whole-heartedly the natural (that is, psychological and sociological) dy-namics of growth. 1. A society that wishes to renew and reform itself must first of all know itself. It has a sense of identity. As religious we have, more or less, a self-image. Con-fusedly at least all of us have a picture in our minds of the ideal religious, namely, one who lives a Christlike life as distinct and unique. Now self-knowledge is not a still-life picture but a moving picture of self-develop-ment, a continual search for identity. Ordinarily we find knowing ourselves difficult and inconvenient. Yet the more we have a sense of identity, which we can learn in part from our tradition, the more it helps us to plan our future--what or who we want to become. Young members may at times rebel against a tradi-tional heritage, even if it is only the starting point of their rebellion. 2. This brings us to a second principle very closely allied to the first. Self-i.dentity is largely a matter of knowing our past and having continuity with it. Our present beliefs, attitudes, feelings, values arose out of earlier personality formation, earlier learning and ex-perience, all of which is most difficult to shake off. We are more inclined to trust tradition because we experi-enced it. Historians did us the favor of recalling the past and showing how evolution already took place in it. Historians help religious groups to achieve self-knowl-edge, and in this way they serve the cause of renewal. If religious were able to sustain renewal in the past, per-haps they can feel at home with it in the future. With-out ignoring their past, they are oriented to the future and will have a hand in shaping it. The tendency of a society with a past is twofold: to persist or to change. The two tendencies are not diametrically, opposed. In fact, it is wrong to oppose change to continuity; both must be given due emphasis, Our aim should be to endlessly interweave continuity with change. "The only stability possible is stability in motion." ~ Religious do nonetheless face the danger to-day of living in an age when the rate of change has sped up almost to leaving them in the dust. They can expand or grow or change so rapidly and wildly that it will be cancerous and kill the values they want to keep. 3. True religious see and share a vision of something worth saving. This vision is made up of all the motiva-tion, conviction, commitment, and values that give meaning to their life. Only if they believe in something Gardner, SelpRenewal, p. 7. can they change something for the better. Otherwise they will experience a failure of heart and spirit. The self-renewing religious will have something about which they are thoroughly convinced and about which they care so deeply that they will do something about it. Yet each one must beware of being egocentric about it. One little thing that he really cares about deeply, one little thing that he can do with zealous con-viction, gives him extra drive and enthusiasm. That is why long-term purposes or values or goals are so important for us. They have to be relatively lasting in order to determine the direction of change. Should they be fly-by-night visions and goals, they will not enable us to absorb them or do justice to them or will endanger a distinctive character and style of living. The mature religious has a religious commitment larger than himself. He has been given a religious goal not as an accomplished fact; his has to be a seeking and striving for the goal in an ever-renewing way. He will be happy in the s.triving, not necessarily in the attaining of that goal. Small victories will instill in him some satisfaction but never the idea that he has arrived, that his life is fulfilled, or that he can sit back and no longer feel the tension of self-renewal. All of us have built into our nature the hunger for meaningful, goals. They are as vital to our being as breathing. But in a sense we must breathe together. We can live together in a .religious community o.nly if we have some measure of consensus in regard to our goals, beliefs, values. We can come to some rough agreement among the many who share the same ideals. Haggling over details there will always be. No matter how pluralistic our community may be, variety and di-versity and spontaneity should not be allowed to inter-fere with at least a middle ground of ideals, goals, and visions. We do ourselves an injustice if we allow all sorts of individual values to conflict in a careless atmos-phere of freedom and then expect something good to come from them. Such a procedure is equivalent in economics to the false theory of laissez-faire. On the other hand, change for the better is brought about when socially or communally acquired and ap-proved ideals, convictions, goals change. In this way change takes place according to psychological and socio-logical laws. It is possible to change laws, the external marks of a society, without affecting the beliefs, prac-tices, and values of the members of that society. Men commonly live as they think; hence to change their life demands a conversion of their minds and hearts. Their life is bound to change if the set of ideas, feelings, and ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 25, 1966 27 ÷ ÷ O.~.C, R~:VIEW FOR RELiGiOUS attitudes which the individual shhres with the members of the society changes. 4. Any renewal or reform, therefore, ought to be aimed at the individual or person. He must find himself in a ~ort of do-it-yourself movement. He must be free and independent enough, flexible and versatile enough, to be open to change. If he isolates himself from others within his group, if he fails to cross-fertilize with them, he will not change or grow. Anthropologists point out that .much cultural change comes about through bor-rowing from others. Karl Rahner makes the pointed remark in his book, Theology for Renewal: If anyone wants to have the Church changed, he must make himself the starring-point of renewal. For the crldc himself is part .of what the Church is suffering from. For usually his own life is not much of a recommendation for Christianity.~ The same remark may be applied to the religious critic. We are more prone to criticize others than to be self-critical. Each religious has personality traits which favor either change or persistence (conservatism), and no doubt many have a mixture of the two. A characteristic of the self-renewing religious is that he 'has a mutually fruitful rapport with others. He is capable of accepting and giving love and friendship. Without such love and friendship, the person enters into rigid isolation. The loving and friendly person depends upon others and can be depended upon. He discovers common tastes, interests, is accessible, and is willing to lend assistance. He makes others feel important. In so doing he is one of the many within a vibrant society who inculcate mutual trust, affection, and identification (as opposed to carping criticism, character asshssination, and envy). They are the cross currents through which his change for better is possible~ 5. Is there enough freedom in the religious way of life to allow for change? This question has to be asked because psychologists and, sociologists maintain that only a free society is open to inquiry, experimentation, and action. A society where reasonable room is left for personal taste, self-expression, and self-criticism, will grow. Its framework or structure is not such that it throttles thought and discussion of new ideas. Authori-tarian or bureaucratic or legalist.ic societies may not throttle thought and discussion but they tend to chan-nel and control them. Freedom, however, has to be balanced with some ~Karl Rahner, Theology ]or Renewal (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), p. 87. determinism within a society. No individual religious should expect to be left to run rampant, to do as and what he pleases. Freedom may result in license. Or it may alienate him from the community. A religious who is left reasonably free may achieve responsibility; but if he seeks too much autonomy he may end up with self-pride, an inflated ego, and not really fulfill himself at all. Every person has limitations and has to come to terms with his membership in the community at large. The social side of his nature should make him realize values which are grea~er than his individual needs. 6. Change and improvement usually spring up in a community that has felt-needs for them. Felt-needs are the beginning of any renewal and reform. So religious must examine their felt-needs. There can be no metanoia unless the community feels needs, and the needs have to be felt widely enough for the majority to do some-thing about them. The first task of renewal and reform is the always difficult task of facing up to ourselves. What gap do we find between the ideals we profess and the realities we practice? How far apart do our constitutions lie from their fulfillment? We have to give due credit to the prophetic and visionary eyes and minds among us who see and speak out against the unreality or even hy-pocrisy of religious life, to whatever degree they may exist. Young members, especially, who still have the ideals and goals fresh before them, can help the rest to an honest self-examination. We do them a good turn too by telling them that their task is to re-create values in their own conduct and not simply look at them idealisti-cally. We should assure each generation of religious that they have to refight the battle and inject new life into lasting ideals and goals. 7. No amount of organization, law-making, socializing will help a religious society to renew and reform unless men in it have the determination to 'foster renewal and reform. It is men who make up a society, not laws or regulations or structures. It is the personal environ-ment that makes for growth, for between the individual and his environment there takes place something like osmosis. If we do not set a pace by our ideals and ex-ample for incoming members, then they will believe little is expected of them. Of whom much is expected, the chances are that he will expect much of himself. If he is educated and motivated in an atmosphere that en-courages effort, sacrifice, selflessness, it is very likely that he will be affected greatly and respond mightily. We take it for granted that the young religious is a free and responsible individual. He will become in-creasingly responsible if we set up for him a meaning- VOLUME 25, 1966 29 Joseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ful relationship with larger and higher goals. We help him to free himself fr6m the "prison of utter selb preoccupation" by instructing and leading him to place himself in the free and willing service of these goals and the people aiming at them. In !religious life as well as in any other, family li~e' included, deeds speak louder than words~ Authentic religious conduct preaches a better lesson than 'any homily, sermon, conference, or instruction. None o~ us learns much from principles, but we do emulate people who are high-principled and exemplary. Ordinarily we do not analyze or list the virtues we wish to develop, unless it be during meditation; but we identify our-selves with the people who have virtue. That is why all of us~ young and old, need models in our imaginative life and in our immediate environment, models of what we at our best can be. At the risk of too much repeti-tion, it should be said that what we do communicates moral and spiritual values much more than what we say~ Words are cheap. Action calls for assuming burden-some and sacrificing responsibility. It is a summons to spiritual greatness. . ¯ 8. The danger in religious life is tO think we can progress morally and spiritually without changing psychologically, socially, culturally. Change for the better---evolution and not revolution or historic acci-dent- usually is a slow, complex, unpredictable, some-what risky and painful process. It does not happen by leaps and bounds; it takes time and hard effort. When practices change, they will not be acceptable evenly .throughout a whole community. Some will wel-come them, others resist them. So many factors and their interplay go into change for the better that they make change complex. And the complexity of a changing situation .brings with it a risk. It takes prudent analysis and prognosis to decide whether the risk is reasonably calculable. Members of a society who are "on their toes" and not living "in a rutV will forestall wild and revolutionary change. Historians have shown that long-range changes came about through successive small innovations, most of them unobtrusive and anonymous. People who lived through the innovation would probably admit that they did not know it was happening; But innovators who herald a change with a flourish of trumpets should ex-pect to meet up with attack and opposition. That pain accompanies growth is inevitable; everybody wants to grow and progress but nobody wants the pain that goes with it. 9. The locus of metanoia is the minds and hearts of ~he individual members of the community, in those minds and hearts where there is the hidden potential of zeal, dedic~ition, a sense of. mission, leadership, and a willingness to sacrifice. Members who have closed minds and hearts have lost the capacity for metanoia. For the self-renewing man there is no end to the development o[ his abilities. He is not a gold mine left unti~pped or an oil well only partially drilled. Psychologists advise us of the fact that many go through life without nearly salvaging all their ta, lents.~ Nothing can be so decisive for refiewal as the use of G6~l-given talents. Conversion VOLUME 25, 1966 31 GUSTAVE MARTELET, S.J. The Church's Holiness ¯ and Religious Life + ÷ + Gustave Martelet, s.J., is professor of fundamental theol-ogy at 4, Mont~e de Fourvi~re; Lyon (V), France. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. RELIGIOUS L~FE AND PREFERENTIAL LOVE OF JEsus CHRIST The* eschatological character of virginity contributes spiritual depth to our understanding of religious life; we must now analyze the latter in still greater detail. Having begun by considering the holiness of the Church (I), which appeared inseparable from her mystery as Spouse (II), we saw that marriage represents sacramentally a mys-tery whose content is spiritually appropriated by virginity (III). This insight illuminated the eschatological meaning of virginity and exposed its motivating drive, a preferen-tial love of Christ (IV). This love throws the greatest light on religious life, and it is in function of that love that our first comprehensive glance at the state must be cast--the concern of the present section. We shall examine the na-ture of religious life'in iiself, its dependence on the mys-tery of the Church, and the significance which consecrated virginity retains today with regard to religious life. 1. Nature o[ Religious Life We do not pretend to supply an exhaustive treatment of this vast subject, for that would simultaneously entail a consideration of the history of the Church, of canon l~aw, * This is the second part of Raymond L. Sullivant's translation of Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The first part of the translation appeared in the November, 1965, issue of the REvzE\v; and the rest of the translation will be printed in the March, 1966, issue. When completed, the entire trans-lation will be issued by the REvmw in a clothbound edition. Notifica-tion of the date o~ publication of the clothbound edition will be made to all those who send a request for this notification to R~vmw ro~ R~mmos; St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas 66536. The request for this notification does not constitute an order for the book and in-volves no financial obligation. of liturgy, and of dogma; but we shall present its meaning from the viewpoint which we have set for ourselves.04 When considering the importance of virginity in the thought of the fathers, we must resist the temptation to construct a strict parallel between that state and the re-ligious life and to reduce the one state to the other. The adoption o.f this excessive view is done from a de-sire to augment the grandeur proper to virginity. While we have seen why there is little danger of overestimating its value, still a careful analysis establishes that virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such. To be sure, the history of consecrated virginity as that of widowhood with whicti it has much in common05 eventually meshed with the history of religious life itself. But regardless of the progressive absorption of the order of virgins into that of nuns, a fundamental difference pre-vents the loss of their separate identities: religious life re-quires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity. We a,re grateful to Father Mogenet for an unpublished ex-planation of the point: Since St. Paul's day, the Church has had a too sensitive awareness of the virginal dignity of Jesus and our Lady not to recognize its exemplarity. She has exalted the charism of Virginity and has honored Christ's virgins who have been mem-bers of the Christian community since the first century. Never-theless, when religious life developed as the more or less con-scious response to the three evangelical counsels, no one thought of restricting it to virgins. The deserts, as later the monasteries and the convents, received converted sinners, married men, widowers, and the chaste single as well. And al-though virginity is a privileged state in following Christ, it is not an indispensable condition. It would seem that St. Peter had been married. We can almost say that Christ's call takes no account of the past. It draws the hearer from family life, from the project of founding a home, to the sacrifice of human love. The summons commits the aspirant to a continent exist-ence which requires perfect chastity as its normal state. This condition permits religious life to become, for those outside its ranks and most notably for the married, the support and model which it should always be.~0 Conse-quently, it is clear that religious life cannot be reduced to virginity alone. For even as the value of the latter arises ~ On this point a generally recognized role is played at the present time by Father Ren~ Carpentier's book, Li]e in the City oI God (New York: Benziger, 1959); the volume has the merit of never separating evangelical perfection and the mystery of the Church. m Andr~ Rosambert, La veuve dans le droit canonique jusqu'au xiv~ si~cle (Paris: Dalloz, 1923); on the status of consecrated virgins during the fourth and fifth centuries, see, for example, Jean Gaude-met, L'Eglise dans l'Empire romain (iv"-v~ siOcles) (Paris: Sirey, 1958), pp. 206-11. ~ Bishop Huyghe, whose writings on religious life are well known, put a great emphasis on this point in his speech to the Council on re-ligious life; see D.C., v. 60 (1963), col. 1590-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]¢ VOLUME 2S, 1966. ÷ Oustave Marteleg, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the preferential love of Christ which consecrates it, love can vow true chastity to Christ even when virginity has been humanly destroyed. Recognition of the prefer-ential love of Christ is equally important for a proper un-derstanding of poverty and obedience. Christ's call can be directly traced to His command to sell all one's goods (Mt 19:21); and the example of St. Francis as well as that of Father de Foucauld emphasizes the close relationship that unites poverty to love of the Poor One par excellence, Christ Himself. The same can be said of obedience. Whether obedience is linked with the demands of common life lived in conformity with the vita apostolica,6z or whether it is explained (as was done in the Rule of the Master adopted by St, Benedict) with reference to the role of the abbot as Christ's "vicar" in ac-cord with St. Luke 10:16: "Who hears you, hears me," or whether obedience is primarily envisioned as an "imita-tion" of Christ in His dependence on His Father as ex-pressed in St. John 6:38: "I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will but the will of him who sent me," 68 makes no difference: in every one of these view-points, obedience is an integral part of religious life even though the present canonical form of the vow of obb-dience dates only from Carolingian times.69 Nevertheless, in its case also condition and essence must not be con-fused. Obedience, as poverty and chastity, is a sine qua non condition of the religious life. But can we say that it is its very content? The answer is yes, to the degree that by its suppression religious life would be emptied of one of its specific obligations. But the answer is no, if by mak-ing obedience the content of religious life one comes to forget that religious obedience attains its goal only by as-suring the reign of the will of Christ over our own will. Hence the organized exercise o£ the three counsels truly manifests the nature of religious life but only to the exact extent that this exercise reposes directly upon the love of the Lord, aims at imitating Him, and~emanates from His mystery through the power of the Spirit. The explana-tion, previously established when defining the eschatolo-gical meaning of virginity, should help us understand the ¯ z M.-H. Vicaire, L'imitation des Apdtres. Moines, chanoines, raen. diants (iv~-xiii~ si~cles) (Paris: Cerf, 1963). ~s De Vogii6, La communautd et l'abbd, pp. 128-9. n~ Catherine Capelle, Le voeu d'obdlssance des origines jusqu'au xii~ si~cle. Etude juridique (Paris: Librairie g~n6rale de droit et jurispru-dence, 1959), pp. 153-79, dates the juridical birth o£ the vow o[ obe-dience from a Chapter of 789; but as she remarks on pp. 208-13 it is necessary to wait for Yves of Chartres in the eleventh cer~tury for a theory of the vow over and beyond the practice of obedience. On the . relationship of the three vows to religious life see the discourse of Paul VI given on May 23, 1964 in the English translation, REVIEW KELtg~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp: 700--1. point, since the spiritual basis of virginity is the desire to belong to Christ in an absolutely exclusive fashion. A point raised by the rule of St. Benedict in its fourth chap-ter, "The Instrument of Good Works," is of utmost per-tinence in this matter: "Nihil amori Christi praeponere," says the great legislator: "Put nothing before Christ's love." The axiom comes directly from the Vita Antonii. St. Anthanasius there depicts St. Anthony "repeating to all that they should desire none of the world's goods in preference to the love of Christ." 70 One wouId search in vain to find this central idea expressed with more lapidary compactness. And who would be better authorized than St. Benedict to condense western monasticism's raison d'etre into a concise formula? The same thought appears in the seventy-second chapter of the rule to explain the ardent zeal which monks should have: "They will prefer absolutely nothing to Christ who deigns to conduct us all to eternal life." 71 And it is the eschatological note that gives such complete fullness to the formula. It is because Christ "is the beginning, the first-born from the dead (that in everything he might be preeminent)" (Col 1:18) that nothing must be put before Christ and that one should die to everything rather than die to Him who is Life itself. Hence His priority as the Lord over all things and over ourselves--"Everything is yours but you are Christ's and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:2)--must be trans-lated on the level of love by an exclusive preference for His Person and by an unconditional desire to follow and imitate Him alone. Accordingly, all monastic life, as all religious institutes afterwards, crystallizes around the practice, of the three evangelical counsels with a view to assuring the rigorous ascendancy of Christ's ways over those of the world. Since Christ is completely despoiled of material goods (He "has not a stone on which to rest his head" [Mt 8:20]), since His own relationship with others does not take carnal generation into account ("Who is my mother and who are my brothers?. Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, my sister, and my mother" [Mt 12:48]), and since He does not exercise His liberty except by delivering it up to the will of His Father (Jn 6:38), religious life will accordingly be defined as a ca-nonically determined break (even if it is not always spir-itually accomplished), with the possessions of the world by poverty, with carnal generation and conjugal love by ~o P.G., v. 26, col. 865 A, a citation derived from the previously men-tioned unpublished work of Father Mogenet. On the Athanasian au-thenticity of the Vita Antonii, see Louis Bouyer, La vie du saint ~lntoine (Saint Wandrille: Editions de Fontenelle, 1950), pp. 15'-22. ~ Citations of the Rule of St. Benedict are made according to the text of Dom Philibert Schmitt. + Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 Ousta~e Mar~eleg, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS chastity, with personal hegemony over self by obedience. This triple rupture defines, by way of three complemen-tary means, a unique and single preference which should e~]ectively animate the religious' entire being, And if man is, in effect, a relation to nature through possession, a re-lation to the other thr~ough love, and a relation to sell through liberty, then poverty, chastity, and obedience are the triple condition of one and the same preference: the preference for Christ over all the goods of the world', sac-rificed to Him who appears as the One Necessity, the pref-erence for Christ over carnal generation, and even more so over conjugal love, sacrificed to Him who appears as Love itself, the preference for Christ over our own indi-vidual liberty, sacrificed to Him who appears as the only Lord. Understood in this manner, religious !ire is the applica-tion of the call: "Come follow me," in which tradition has always seen the principle of life according to the coun-sels. Directed to the rich young man in Galilee (Mt 19:21), Jesus' personal summons is ceaselessly repeated by the Spirit in the ever present reign of the resurrected Christ: On the basis of a love for the Lord of glory alone, the Spirit founds the movement of grace that is religious life. As a way of life in keeping with the evangelical counsels and canonically defined within the Church, religious life is first of all the choice of an end and only secondly a sys-tem of means. It is a response which presupposes a call, a canonical institution commanded by a spiritual love.It becomes an institution only because it was first an inspira-tion; it becomes the letter of a rule only because it was first the spirit of the Gospel. And if it is true that the counsels themselves are still a letter when isolated from the Spirit from which they live,r2 it is also true that the letter of religious life takes form from the letter of the Gospel only by the charismatic mediation of the Holy Spirit Himself. Religious life assumes a bodily form only when the Spirit breathes into souls the soul of the Gospel. This soul is none other than the spiritual preference of Christ over all things in keeping with the words of St. Benedict cited above: "Put nothing before the love of Jesus,Christ." r~ By constructing this formula for his sons and for all of those who would hear the faithful echo of the Gospel through i(, St. Benedict initiated his followers into the well,founded hope of "eternal life," that is to say, of "the life lived forever with the Lord," the anticipation" 7a Dom Lafont gives strong insistence to this point in the work cited in footnote 7, pp. 170-83. ra On the centrality of Christ in the gospel message see de Grand-maison, Jesus Christ, v. 2 and v. 3, pp. 3-346; and R. Guardini, Das Wesen des Christentums (Sth ed.; W0rzburg: ~Werksbund-Verlag, 1958). of which is the proper mission of religious life in the Church. By this preferential love of Jesus Christ, religious life, far from living in isolation from the Church, enters, as does virginity, into her most profound being and shows itseff subject to her. 2. Religious Life's Dependence on the Church We are speaking here of the whole Church for the serv-ice of which religious life exists, as we shall see in the last section. But for the present we wish to consider in a gen-eral way the essential dependence of religious life on the hierarchy and on the Christian community itself. By first drawing attention to marriage and its dependence on the Church, we shall better understand the position of reli-gious life. A. The Church and the Christian Couple Many of the faithful are indignant (and some of them ventilate their dissatisfaction in the daily press) over the fact that the Church through her magisterium wishes to impose a conjugal ethic on them. Although there are sometimes unjustified clerical probings into the private lives of couples, this indiscretion is not the object of the litigation. The latter arises from the Church's right to is-sue obligatory laws in the conjugal order. Contraception is not the only sensitive area; problems of a similar na-ture cluster around the subject. We do not propose here to solve any of these problems but only to indicate the spirit with which the intervention of the Church in such matters is to be accepted. In so doing, we shall contribute to the understanding of the relations that exist between the Church and religious life. Christian marriage is the sign of the 'union of Christ and the Church. The spousal charity of Christ and the Church must consequently be reflected in marriage if it is to obtain the transparency of a sign. To avoid saying that Christ has not assumed flesh in its entirety, we must recognize that all flesh must bear the mark of Christ and exercise that paradoxical docility which the Spirit de-mands of it. Christian conjugal ethic is dominated by this end. It has no other reason for being than to assure to the human love of the partners that spiritual clarity befitting the sacramentality of their love. Christianity assumes re-sponsibility for the most authentic prescriptions of human ethics; but in making them both more urgent and more imprescriptible, it demonstrates the need for transparency which the sign should have and the latter's ability in Christ to follow Him. That is why no home can be more human or purer, more united or freer, more self-sac-rificing or happier, humbler and more transfigured, than the home in which the light of Christ shines and where 4- 4- 4- "Religious Life VOLUME 25, 1966 . Gustave Martelet, ~,. $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS His flame burns. It is thu"s apparent ~hat the Church can never sacrifice the conjugal ethic since the human love of the baptized must reflect, even in the flesh, the sanctity which she represents. The objection of those Christians who maintain that the Church cannot pronounce on :subjects which Chris~t did not discuss is indeed fragile. Christ's sile,nce, while ap-parently impressive, is quite relativ6 when one reflects on the manner in which He spoke'of tl~e indissblubility of the conjugal bond (Mt 19:9) a~nd of foregoing the works of the flesh "in view of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:22).' Even if Christ had~ not.spoken, one could not declare the Bride in.competent tq d~e~fine :t,he standards "of the Gyoom to those who represent the mystery itself. Christ. would have shown little respect for His Bride, in fact, He wohld have shown outright distrust for her and lack of faith in the:intuitions of which His Spirit is the .guarantee, if He had not endowed His Church with the. right and the duty "to.speak" in an area where the bridal mysyery which she lives directly orientates the spi.ritua! underst.a.ndin~ of the couple's love. Yet the Church's authority does not sup-plant Christ in His mystery. The 'former relies on the lat-ter; she thus rejoins the profound life of her children--a life which is sometimes resisted but never denied: The latter know that they will never truly communicate with Christ through their love if ~they reject the manner in which the Church forms and guides their consciences. B: The Church and P~eligious Life If she takes so much care with regard to the sacrament of marriage, the sign of her bridal mystery, the hierarchi- Cal Church watches nb less jealously over religious life: If in the free holiness of the married she wishes to see 'the bldssoming of an image of what they become in and by th~ sacrament, she cannot be disinterested in ~hose Who pretend not only to represent but to spiritually actualize the v.ery love. of the Bride as it is directed in its entirety toward the Groom. The Church's ~igilance over the sac-ramental ~ign of her nupti_als in marriage can only be re-doubledin the case of the spiritual~ fulfillment 9f thesd huptials in religious life. The lat~er trul)i exist~ in the .Chu.rch~.only when i.t is discerned; judged, a~proved, con-trolled, 'su~pb.r~ed, afid'criticized.'lS)i hier~irchical action, 1.oc.al" orsupr~me;, of which it ~an neither atiempt nor de-s~ re to be free. ¯ This essential function as judge" and. guardian is never brought t~o fulfillment not only because human weakness is forever prone to compromise :what gener'osity 'in th~ SpirivoHginal]y envisage~l and ~romised but a'l~o b~cause ~ov~'g" ingpi~a~ion Wtiic-l~ giv'e~"-'birfl~ ~0 ~eligioh~ life" ig never dulled and because from the flight to the desert to the ransom of captives, from the highest conte.mplation to the most obscure nursing service, from ancient Carm.el to. modern Nazareth, from the monastic 9rders to the secu-lar institutes, the Bride must al.ways discern the various ways" in which the Groom inspires her through her chil-dren. Let it suffice to state that religious life, charismati-cally given to the Church by Chrigt Himself, exists in the Church only as canonically submissive to her law. More-over, if this strict submission does not des.troy religious life but~ rather makes it flourish, the reason is that throUgh this submission religious life finds its own truth. Publicly "recognized" by the Church as a privileged "way of holi-ness, religious life understands itself as the flowering within the Church of the Bride's mystery of loving re-sponse to the Groom's love. Religious life's dependence on the mystery of the Church is not only hierarchical but is also connected with the entire Christian community. The evangelical coun-sels which mold religious life do not make the pi:eferen-tial love of Christ become a monopoly of the monastery. Every Christian--and, strictly speaking, every man--is called to this love; and the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount are directed to every member of die Church "as the norm for the moral conduct of the baptized." 74 While' it is true that as far as the manner of loving Chri~ alcove all things and of thereby entering into the love of God is concerned religious life represents a privileged state, still it is of absolute necessity for no one. Although pos-sessing a universal value of exemplarity, it is imposed only on some, and then by a determined vocation. Holiness is never automatically assured those who commit themselves to this way of the vows; and there is no doubt that many Christians remain more faithful to Christ in the world than certain religious do in ,their monasteries or convents. Hence, religious have no grounds for' Complacendy or for a disparaging attitude toward those who are not mem-bers of religious life. The person who becOmes a religious enters a state of life which he may be unworthy hence humility is necessary for him--but which of itself initiates him into a perfect love of Christ--hence depre-ciation by Christians of such a life is impossible. Religious life, then, does not exist in order to divide the Church b~ absUrd rivalries over the better and the less good but on!y in order .that, the sovereign love of "Christ may increase and'that the life of the vows may assume at the depths of it-self the evangelical traits of the Lord. Never regarding it-self as opposed or superior to anyone, religious life must always be at the service of all men by means of those who ~* Lafont, "$aintet~ du peuple de Dieu," p. 1~5. + + + Religious Life~ VOLUME 25, 1966 39 ÷ ÷ ÷ Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS attempt to live it out and who take care not to betray .its ideals. Such is the dependence of religious life on the Church for the service of which it is born and must perdure. It is judged by the. hierarchy with a view to benefiting the common spiritual good of the entire Church. Like con-jugal life (and because it refers to One and the same mys-tery but in a different way), religious life cannot destroy its dependence on the Church as a whole, whether it be a question of the hierarchy who judges it and supports it in its fundamental inspiration or whether it be a mat-ter of the faithful whom it should stimulate to the love of tile Lord and by whom it is itself stimulated: "God or-ganizes his holy ones for the work of the ministry in view of the building up the body of Christ, until we all attain (o the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12-~). Hence, despite (or, more accurately, because of) its integration into the life of the Body, religious life retains an irreducible original-ity which we shall have occasion to discuss later. This originality, which integrates religious life into the Body while simultaneously differentiating it, does not suggest separation or exclusiveness. This is why its full canonical development does not prevent the possible renewal of forms which historically preceded it. C. Religious Life and Virginity or Consecrated Widowhood It is easy to understand why the order of virgins and widows was practically absorbed into that of nuns during the course of history. When reading the recommendations to virgins and consecrated widows made by St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, or St. Augustine,75 to limit our consideration to the western fathers, one receives the impression, con-firmed by history, that these women be.longed to a state of life in which equilibrium was maintained with diffi-culty. A certain kind of exterior protection was lacking to many of them, and thht "sweet odor of Christ" which initially stimnlated their resolutions sometimes evapo-rated in lamentable circumstances. By endowing Christian generosity and the desire to consecrate oneself to Christ with a defined monastic framework, religious life quite ¯ naturally almost completely absorbed the order of virgins and that of consecrated widows which were formerly overexposed to many dangers. Spiritual situations, which 75 For example, Cyprian, Liber de habitu virginum (P.L., v. 4, col. 439-62; Ambrose, De virginibus (P.L., v. 16, col. 187-232), De virgini-tare (ibid., col. 265-302); Augustine, De sancta virginitate, (P.L. v. 40, col. 412-28). On widowhood, see Ambrose, De viduis (P.L., v. 16, col. 233-62); Augustine, De bono viduitatis (P.L., v. 40, col. 4~II-50). were still unstable, thereby received a precise form. This was a good thing from one aspect, but frdm one aspect only. For a valuable diversity thus tended to disappear even though there do exist within the Church Christian individuals or groups who without becoming conventual religious consecrate their virginity or widowhood to the Lord. This non-conventual exercise of religious consecra-tion of self has regained favor in our day to an unusual degree. Many Christian women,TM desirous of living their bap-tismal regeneration in the form of absolute consecration to Christ, receive no call to abandon the world where family, children, profession, business, .and situation ex-pect and demand of them a daily, total devotedness. In the minds of these Christians the consecration of their vir-ginity or widowhood to Christ does not necessarily iden-tify itself with the practice of leading a religious life apart from the world's structures. Without criticizing those who follow a more classical road to perfection, they demand little more than the three vows of religious life to express their gift of self to the Lord. Their borrowings may also include certain organizational aspects of life and the tone of a definite spirituality, but they do not usually exceed these features. They desire to take religious life from its conventual conditions in order to implant it in the world --which that state had justifiably abandoned in the be-ginning. The reasons justifying this abandonment of the world and assuring to convent and cloister their incon-testable values (though these have not always been uncon-tested) thus permit the conception of new forms of reli-gious life. The spiritual break with the world which should always characterize religious life can operate in an entirely interior fashion without imposing a rupture that may be described as a sociological or, better still, a conventual one. On the contrary, the structures which are most typical of the world can become the condition of a highly intense though less apparent form of religious life. In all this the ideal of the secular institutes is recog-nized. The latter represent one of the most original ex-pressions of religious life in the Church today.77 Duly 76 Cardinal L~ger reminded the Council of this fact. He also in-sisted on the fact that there should not be too rapid an identification of consecrated virginity with religious life: there are persons who de-sire the first but who perhaps are incapable of the second (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1593). This was doubtless the meaning also of the re-marks of Bishop Huyghe (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1594). r~ For an overall view of the matter see Jean Beyer, Les instituts s~culiers (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1954). Consult also the same author's "La vocation s~culi~re," Nouvelle revue th~ologique, v. 86 (1964), pp. 135-57, where complementary data are given On the situ-ation of secular institutes at the present time. On Father Beyer's book see the remarks of Father Carpentier, "Les instituts s~culiers," Nou- 4. 4" Religious Li]e VOLUME 25, 1966 41 encouraged by Roman authority,rs this new state is em-barking, it is our belief, upon other realizations which it virtually contains and which go back to ancient formulas whose significance is by no means exhausted. The term "secular institutes" designates greatly differ-ent kinds of groups.79 Besides such institutes as Opus Dei which has the attractiveness of large-scale dimensions, there are other groupings whose aims and methods are more modest. The members ofthese latter groups think less in terms of vast, extensive actions than in those of an unreserved gift of self to the Lord; their way of life calls to mind more the reed than the oak. Since the end pur-sued in these groupings is less the secularization of reli-gious life than the consecration of profane existence, many specifications of religious life which are and no doubt should be characteristic of secular institutes appear less necessary to these groups. Thus, in the absence of common life, the observance of obedience and poverty is difficult of realization. Furthermore, obedience and pov-erty, even when maintained for good reasons, would imply in these groups a dependence and control which are not indispensable for the spiritual ends envisaged by the members of these groupings. Accordingly, the different positio.n taken up with regard to certain modalities of the religious life formally considered does not arise from a weaker desire for Christian perfection nor from an initial lukewarmness; it is rather the result of a different inspi-ration. It is not a question of criticizing the values of re-ligious life or of protesting the help to be found in reli-gious life, whether conventual or secularized; it is rather a matter of consecrating virginity or widowhood to the Lord while allowing freedom from many determinations which this consecration has assumed within the frame-work of religious life properly so-called ~and which con-tinue to characterize--legitimately so--secular institutes. The desire to return to formulas less rigid even than those of these institutes is the desire (and it is not necessarily chimerical) to return to the ancient formulas of conse-crated virginity and widowhood. Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS velle revue thdologique, v. 77 (1955), pp. 408-12. And see the more re-cent remarks of Karl Rahner who clearly shows that members of secular institutes are, in the Church, genuinely religious even though in and for the world they are lay persons (Theology Ior Renewal [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964], pp. 147-83). ~s The two fundamental documents are those of Pius XII: Provida Mater of February 2, 1947, and Primo [eliciter of March 12, 1948; English translations in T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, s.J., The Canon Law Digest Ior Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 143-55 and 157-61. ~ At the end of Father Beyer's book on secular institutes will be found a list of fifty-eight existing groups with a brief description of each. We have already mentioned the weaknesses shown in the past by this way of life, weaknesses.that necessitate a real sense of prudence in this matter. But the present sit-uation is not entirely the same as that of past ages. Reli-gious life has benefited from centuries of experience; it exercises a decisive influence on the effort of every Chris-tian to reach perfection. Accordingly, what in past ages religious life would have reduced to itself, it can now re-frain from absorbing, allow to grow, and even protect in its own way. In this way virginity and consecrated widow-hood could regain their own particular status outside of conventual or secularized religious life and beyond that life Of the baptized that retains all legitimate Christian rights with regard to marriage. Being canonicaIly more supple than any known form of religious life and at the same time having the spiritual seriousness of a complete giving of self to the Lord in the Spirit of the gospel, con-secrated virginity and widowhood would then represent in our world a way of pertaining to the Lord to which Christians, not well adapted for religious life, could feel themselves called in order to live an intense life centered on Christ and the gospel and based on a total consecra-tion of self which spiritually transforms one's life without modifying it socially. A similar procedure which could revive in the twen-tieth century one of the most venerable but also most threatened institutions of Christian spirituality would suppose a profound renewal of schools of spirituality gathered around the great orders, both monastic and apos-tolic. By remaining or becoming centers of a profound religious spirit aiad by renouncing any control which would in any way limit the freedom of action of the men and women who seek a support that is purely spiritual, religious orders could provide an enormous service to Christian women, to speak only of them, by offering them a permanent and profound consecration of self to Christ in the world without entering the religious life in the proper sense of the word. For the sake of concretizing the matter, is it necessary to say that the matter discussed here is that of a profound renewal of third orders and of "third congregations"? Yes, if one wishes to put it that way; but the renewalmust be a radical one permitting the spiritual training that is given to take complete account of modern conditions of life; furthermore, the spiritual heritage drawn upon must provide souls with a truly profound in-troduction both to the Lord to whom they consecrate themselves and to the world for the benfit of which Christ frees them. Although these possibilties are offered only as sugges-tions, still the preceding considerations concerning simi-larities and differences between consecrated virginity and Religious Liye VOLUME 25, 1966 43 ~ustcwe Martele~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life supply a foundation for them. Forms of con-secration to Christ are of an infinite diversity within the Church. Some of them are completely new; others reclaim ancient practices and endow them with :a new spirit. It is to the latter type ~hat adaptation of secular institute formulas for the purpose of consecrated virginity and widowhood is related. In this the approbation of the Church will be necessary; but so also will be the inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit whose preeminent role at the very base of religious life must now be explicitly considered. VI. LOVE OF CHRIST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SPIRIT The role of the Spirit is irreplaceable in acquiring the love and knowledge of Christ: "No one can say: 'Jesus is Lord' except by the action of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cot 12:3). In order to understand the true sources of religious life in the Church, it is therefore necessary to speak first of the Spirit as the revealer of Christ. The point is an es-sential one in Scripture. After Pentecost, when St. Peter announced the identity .of Jesus for the first time in Jeru-salem, he cried: "Let all the house of Israel, therefore, know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36). But before reaching this conclusion, St. Peter had already ex-plained: "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise o[ the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you see and hear" (Acts 2:32-3). It is thus the effusion of'the Spirit by Christ which reveals His own glorification and which even constitutes it in a certain way. Jesus is riot the Lord with-out being, in keeping with this title, the One who gives us the Spirit. The Son's glorification by the Father in the Resurrection and His dispatch of the Spirit from the Father are two aspects of the mystery that are rigorously correlative as the Gospel explicitly proclaims: "Neverthe-less, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). And similarly: "But when the Counselor comes whom I shall send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who pro-ceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). o The dissensions raised by these texts--and others to ¯ which we shall refer later--is well known. The Orthodox interpret them as a guarantee of the complete dependence of the Son and the Spirit in regard to the Father, while we see in them the acknowledgement of the equality which the Son receives from the Father with regard to the eternal procession of the Spirit. It is the Filioque quarrel on which we shall not delay,s° We have mentioned the matter, however, since it is not without pertinence, usu-ally unperceived, to our subject. For while insisting more than our Orthodox brothers on the eternal role of the Son in the procession of the Spirit, we mugt not fail to remember the complementary role of the Spirit in refer-ence to the Son. The point is as vital to the theology of the processions as it is to the economy of the missions,sl And in fact, if it is true that the spiration of the Spirit cannot be understood without relating it to the Son in eternity since the ~piration is nothing else then the act by which the Spirit owes to the Father and to the Son His eternal existence as a divine Person, it is also true that we risk overlooking the light which the existence of the Spirit sheds in its turn on that of the two other Persons. For the Father would not be the Father of such a Son, who is con-substantial, that is, equal in nature to His Father, and the Son would not be the Son of such a Father, capable of communicating His own undivided divinity to His Son, if the One and the Other were not associated "spirators" of the Spirit. It is because the trinitarian life reaches completion in the procession of the Spirit that it can also begin in and by the generation of the Son. The entire mystery of the Father and the Son is found in that of the Spirit who results from their love and who is their very love, the eternal sign of what can be called His transcend-ent possibility. The trinitarian mystery is really conceiv-able only because it is the mystery of a God "who is Spirit" (Jn 4:24). For a better understanding of the trini-tarian mystery, it is not sufficient to say that the Son re-ceives from the Father the power to spir~ite the Spirit un-less one immediately adds that the Spirit, spirated by the Father and by the Son acting in common, is also the meas-ure and the sign of the unfathomable mystery which en-velops both and to which initiation would be impossible unless the Spirit Himseff were given us. It was to arrive at this truth that we took the preceding detour through trinitarian theology, for we could not truly know the Son and through Him the Father, in the revealing economy of the Incarnation and of the Church, unless the Spirit played His irreplaceable role of revealer and witness of Christ for us. It is this central point of view which we shall now attempt to illuminate. 1. The Mystery o[ the Spirit in His Relation to Christ + ÷ A. Necessity of the Spirit in Understanding Christ The temptation to believe that Christ could be reduced to purely human dimensions is not a chimerical one. "Is See Appendix A. See Appendix B. Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Gustave Martelet, . $.1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he not Jesus, son of Joseph, whose father find mother we know?" the Jews asked (Jn 6:42). And it is true that Hi~ human accessibility enters into Hisl role of Mediator. "That which we have heard,, which we have seen wi~h "our eyes, which we have looked upon and to~tched with our hands, concerning the word of life, we announce to you" (1 Jn 1:1-2). It is in this way that Jesus reveals to man "what noeye has seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived--what God hhs prepared for those who,,love him" (1 Cot 2:9 citing Is 64:3). This human accessibility o'f Christ, and through Him of the Father, is the very con-dition of revelation and is in a way identified with it. Not only did Jesus say: "No one comes to the Father except by me" (Jn 14:6); but He made the even more radical statement: ".Philip, who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). Hence,.it is evident that God's revelation in Christ .supposes the humanity of the Son who through that humanity takes on our own. But His humanity is precisely the humanity of the Son; accordingly, one does not enter the trinitarian mystery through it without hav-ing been introduced into it by the Father. "No one comes to me," said Jesus to the Jews, "unless the Father draws him" (Jn 6:44). And to Peter who had just recggnized and confessed Him as "the Christ, the son of the living God," Jesus declared: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16:17). It is "not of flesh and blood" but of the Father in the gift which He makes us of the Spirit. Jesus' words concerning the Paraclete in St. John have the same meaning. It is good that Jesus departs in order that the Spirit may come making it truly possible to know Jesus: "These things I have spoken to you, while I am still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:25-6). And Jesus also said: "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things' that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declhre it to you" (Jn 16: i2-4). Without the Spirit Christ will always remain for us in the order of "the flesh" which Jesus said "avails nothing" (Jn 6:63). In his turn, St. Paul affirms: "Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, at present we no longer know him in this way" (2 Cor 5:16) but only ac-cording to the "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17) which is the work of the Spirit. And the Apostle tells ns in the Letter to Titus: "And when the goodness and loving kin~dness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by' us in icighteousness but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and by the re-newal in the Holy Spirit which he poured out upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior so that we might be jus-tified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal li~e" (3:4-7). Similarly, in the Letter to the Galatian's: "BUt when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son~. so that we might receive, adoption as sons. And because' you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying 'Abbal Father!' So through God y0u"are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir" (Gal 4:4-6). It is, then, through the Spirit that the Father attracts us, beyond the ways of flesh and blood, to the very knowledge of the Son, just as one must be re-born by the power of the Spirit (Jn 3:5) if Christ is to in-troduce us into His otherwise impenetrable kingdom. Since such is the case, the truth of Christ, though at-tested by history, is not naturally accessible as a simple fact of our experience. It depends on testimony from above which does not destroy our intelligence but trans-forms it by giving it n

Issue 21.4 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; ALOYSIUS J. MEHR, O.S.C. Community Exercises in Religious Life Introduction: The Religious Community in Perspec-tive The religious communityx exists within two wider communities from which it draws its own unique vitality and significance. These two communities--forming one kingdom of God--are the Church and the total human world. Both are immeasurably deep and charged with dynamism; and we cannot arrive at an adequate grasp of the significance of community exercises in religious life unless we see the posture of our own particular commu-nity within these two great communities which are great covenants, the covenant of creation and the cove-nant of Christ. The religious community, however, is not related to the Church and the world only extrinsically as though these formed some kind of background or framework out-side of the community. Kather, the religious community exists at the point of encounter between two great lines of force and destiny which are the Church and the world. Its being calls out to the total human Community from which it arises and in whose service it acts; and its being is a response, deep and creative, to the call of the Word of God. The religious community sums up, symbolizes, and is an eikon of the human community and of the Church. The religious community, therefore, arises from the depths of creation, from the depths of life, lost in the eons of the life's growth itself.2 We carry on the work of crea- 2 This paper was written for and delivered at the international convention on Crosier spirituality held at Maaseik, Belgium, July 24-26, 1961. It has been revised so as to make it applicable to re-ligious communities in genera!. 2 Teilhard de Chardin, The Phenomenon of Man, translated by. Bernard Wall (New york: Harper, 1959); The Divine Milieu, trans-lated by Bernard Wall (New York: Harper, 1960). Hans Urs yon 4. 4. Aloysius J. Mehr, O.S.C., is on the faculty of Crosier House of Studies, Route 1, Wallen Road, Fort Wayne 8, Indiana. VOLUME 21, 1962 30! 4" Aloysius Mehr, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion, converging, as Teilhard sees it, to a kind of world unity in which all things are synthesized into community,a The direction of the history of life has moved through phases of biology ("biogenesis") into the world of incar-nate spirits ("noogenesis"); and in the New Covenant this force is caught up in the moment of the Resurrection, present among us as a pledge of the final entry into the glory of the Lord (kabod Yahweh). Our community-being, our being-together (Mitsein in Heidegger's termi-nology) is thus wrapped up in the forces and destinies of life, surging on in space-time towards its fullness, the seed of which it carries in itself at the present. Moreover, our community-being is also wrapped up in the fulfillment of creation, the new creation in Christ who draws all to the parousial and paschal destiny of all creation--a destiny that is already sacramentally present in a community called together in the Eucharistic sacrificial meal. These are undoubtedly far-reaching and difficult themes the full significance of which will always remain inaccessible to us, lost behind the veil of the future and the inscrutable destinies of man in the divine plan. We must expect, then, that any discussion of the religious community must, in its ultimate significance, shadow off into mystery. We shall not be able to lay out the forces in us as problems which can be solved, here and now, once and for all times. Community-being is essentially dynamic: we, as men and as religious, are homines vi-atores. Our fellowship in God is an eikon--an image, a sign, a symbol--of the Church localized in our areas of concern, but the Church which is the people of God on the march (in via), creating (in/ieri) what we most deeply are unto fullness in Christ who fulfills all in all (Eph 1:23; Jas 1:18). From this viewpoint we are able to see, or rather to begin to see, the profound significance of community exercises. Community exercises are the historical and temporal incarnations of our being-together (Mitsein). There is a deep and vast need, truly an ontological need, a need arising from our being-together, for authentic community activity that emanates from the inexhaust-ible fullness of our being.4 What we are demands suc-cessive real-ization; our being overflows into our life. Activity, operatio, exercise--these are not on some pe-riphery of the real, bu~ rather incarnations in the fabric of the real world. Man is embodied soul and besouled body. His existence is incarnate existence, caught up in Balthasar, Science, Religion, and Christianity, translated by Hilda Graef (London: Bums and Oates0 1958). s Teilhard develops this theme in The Phenomenon of Man: ~ Gabriel Marcel, Homo Fiator, translated by Emma Crawford (Chicago: Regnery0 1955), p. 26. solidarity with the corporeal universe but transcending it as spirit.5 Human being demands expression; as in-carnate, it is essentially temporal, basically historical, realizing itself further and more fully in successive and authentic encounters with the real--in the mysteries of birth, death, conversion, sickness, and above all, love.~ This paper is, first of all, a re-investigation of certain societal universals--relationships of persons which are the anthropological, sociological, and theological binding forces which help to produce a healthy and fruitful com-munity. The term "relationship" will be used more fre-quently than "community exercises" or "community ac-tivities." This, however, should not confuse the reader. An activity has social implications and social value if it is a relationship to others. The fact, therefore, that we will not group our material under the usual headings like "prayer life" or "recreations" or "the apostolate" should not tempt the reader to conclude that we are not speaking of things usually thought of as "community ex-ercises." We will speak primarily about the unifying forces, the community-building potential of community exercises, whether these be a simple conversation, a rec-reation, the Mass, superior-subject relationships, pro-fessional relationships of instructors with students, or even the exercise of talent in a "private" way within the community. It would be wrong to see as binding forces only those activities in which all of us perform the same movements or say the same words. On the other hand, community and society can hardly exist where there is no mutual a.ctivity, no common involvement of all the members in some fruitful, meaningful task. Finally, this analysis of communal activities precisely in their unifying value views the religious community in its objective, intersubjective, and Christian dimension. Part I: Community in Social Patterns To an anthropologist7 a very significant characteristic of the monastic community is that it is a celibate, reli-giously oriented institution'. This is without precedent or parallel in primitive or preliterate culture. In general, as the society becomes progressively complex,, certain indi-a Von Balthasar .develops this theme in his book Science, Religion, and Christianity. e Gabriel Marcel, The Philosophy O] Existence, translated by 4. Manya Harari (New York: Philosophical Library, 1949)', p. 6. 7The Reverend Alphonse Sowada, OiS.C., received his master's degree in anthropology from the Catholic University of America, Community Washington, D.C., in the spring o[ 1961. In an interview with the Exercises Reverend Ronald Kidd, O.S.C., he initiated in outline form the following analysis of the monastic community based, on anthropo-logical procedure. Father Sowada is'presently working in the New Guinea Mission, VOLUME 21, 1962 3O3 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3O4 viduals are set aside solely for religious activity. Hence the phenomenon even of the Israelitic priestly office, given to the tribe of Levi, suggests a somewhat highly developed social complexus. Furthermore, sexual prac-tices become restricted for religious specialists only in civilized, cultured society. The religious community, com-bining both factors, arises only late in the development of a people. This unique development suggests various problems: a separation from the elemental and primitive social binding forces, perhaps a tendency towards over-com-plexity and hyper-specialization, in general, a danger of an ever greater artificiality. Man-to-Nature Relationships The ecological system comprises the sum total of the man-to-nature relationships in a given social organiza-tion. It comprises all the activities by which these people make a living--how they satisfy their elemental needs from nature. Thus, the supplying of food, the manufac-ture of clothing, the realm of technology, and attendant organizations and belief are .elements in an ecological system. In primitive societies, these are the concern of everyone; social organizations and belief patterns (treated in the following sections of this paper) arise from this common involvement in wresting an existence from na-ture. The ecological system forms the foundation for the actual social forms of the people. In the religious community, participation in this basic, elemental social activity is often frustrated. The general pattern is the specialization of ecological functions; they are more often than not entrusted to a few--the prior,,;, procurators, and other superiors. As a result, the remain-ing members of the community lack this elemental bind-ing force with one another and with the community as a whole. This can easily lead to frustration, complacency, and eventually create parasites within the community, In this connection it should be noted that the work of those religious who are engaged in manual labor almost exclusively is much more in line with the needs expressed in an ecological system, provided that they are truly a part of the community in which and for which they work. In order to utilize this natural, social binding force, these religious must feel themselves solidly within the whole community. They should experience the same satisfaction that the son or daughter enjoys when they begin to co-operate with their parents in providing a livelihood for the family. The social bindings formed by the ecological system are intense and deep. For the clerical and teaching members of a community, there is also a need for an acceptable way either to fulfill this function or to find an adequate substitute. The apostolate might seem like a perfect substitute. But in the apostolate the results are apt to be too far distant for the immediate kind of satisfaction caused by common involvement in providing the basic necessities of life. In fact, where superiors or subjects try to make' apostolic work an "acceptable" sublimation, the very 'remoteness of results can tend precisely to create further frustration and complacency. '~ In general, any project in which personal initiative is called into play within and for the community and in which a sense of fulfillment can be forthcoming ~can be used as a substitute. Such projects are of great value in binding together the religious,community. Stress should be placed°especially on the matter of results; for example, graduation, profession, and ordination days should be planned wisely to be days of community joy in accom-plishment rather than of relief in being through with tedious work. Although effective substitutes depend on both subjects and superiors, it is the superiors, above all, who must see the absolute need for them. Individual ~religious may have the initiative to make valuable .suggestions, but :the only person who can integrate these suggested projects into the community and give them their full social force is ,the superior. Without due attention, the community moves towards increasingly artificial social forms, lacking and attempting to substitute for, the basic level of social solidarity. In order to have a healthy community, we must find effective and meaningful substitutes. Man-to-Man Relationships Next, we deal with interpersonal relationships, en-compassing social ability and practice, questions of status and hierarchy in the communal organization, questions of law regulating interpersonal behavior, family orienta-tion, pressure groups, informal and formal groupings. This is the area of personal response and personal: activ-ity~ phenomena that vary with,each individual. Consid-eration of the interpersonal relationships are of 'utmost importance in analyzing the social structure of a com-munity; they form the operative and dynamic structure of society. Perhaps the most evident charact~eristic of interpersonal relations within the religious community is its thorough structure ot control. First of all, everyone knows every-one else and every individual can control his response thereby. Moreover, the social control within our unique form of community is almost familial or patriarchal. This is a good basis for developed social organization. In a healthy community a person is a part of things, 4. + + Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 305 ÷ Aloysim OM.e~h.Cr., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he knows what is expected of him, he is not bewildered or lost within the crowd. He is at home, he knows how to approach everyone else, he knows how to regulate topics of conversation, to account for individual differ-ences, to accept the particular interests of the other mem-bers of the religious society. He enjoys that ecce quam bonum feeling which is a natural result of being [ul_ly ac-cepted by the group. He belongs to them, uncondition-ally; they are happy to have him and would be distressed at losing him. As. a further consequence, he feels shel-tered, contented, and can gradually abandon all his poor little defensive mechhnisms as well as the defects of. char-acter which necessitate them. All his potential gifts can flower, he can. give himself up confidently to his most generous aspirations. Such. :are the blessings which accrue to an individual who lives in a healthy group definitely ready to accept him.s There are, however, definite dangers in our communal make-up. The first and perhaps most serious danger is that of artificiality--artificially controlled responses. To the extent that responses become too automatic, too pat, too set, too taken-for-granted, the very situation which ought to promote solidarity could conceivably destroy it. Responses must be genuine; meaningless responses are detrimental to community. The artificiality of community llfe can be much re-lieved by warm parental and fraternal relationships be-tween superiors and subjects, instructors and students, and, above all, between equals. This fosters the character formation that ordinarily occurs within the family. Con-sequently, everyone must take his role in community seriously; he must be open, understanding, sympathetic, and avoid meaningless responses and inflexibility policy in the name of functional efficiency. Professors ought to be aware of the fact that attitudes built up by personal relationships with students are as important as the material being taught. On the other hand, students must realize that they have much to learn and that their attitude towards their instructors is extremely important. Entering. into dialogue is always a two way street. Within the community deep and authentic friendships should be fostered, for personality grows in proportion as it is opened to others. Fear of friendship shatters munity and leaves only a group of isolated introverts living in the same building. Mistaken notions of partic, ular friendship have forced many a religious to lead an unnecessarily lonely life. Authentic friendship means that I am genuinely con-e Communal Lile, translated by a Religious of the Sacred Heart (Westminster: Newman, 1957), p. 267. cerned with my neighbor as a person. When interest is only pretended, people instinctively feel that they are be-ing treated, not as human beings, but as a case, an object, an It. Make-believe interest, pharisaical interest does more harm than good. Every Christian, and certainly every religious, should be conscious of the manyreasons why he should be deeply and genuinely interested in his neighbor in all places and at all times. Another danger in our communal make-up presents it-self where subjects refuse to cooperate with their supe-rior, or where incapable men are invested with status-power. In primitive tribes, subjects who refuse to work with their superior are simply eliminated. Moreover, a leader who blunders in personal relations or in tribal projects, for example, failing to bring off a hunting raid successfully, loses prestige ipso facto. But in our com-munity, the social status of the members is not easily changed. This has its advantages and disadvantages. More permanent social relationships can be formed so as to .give the individuals a greater security and to give the social order a basic stability. On the other hand, where poor relat!onships are formed, this situation too tends to perpetuate itself. Overspecialization is another factor which endangers solidarity in a community. Anthropologists distinguish between diversification, which can lead to mutual de-pendence and promote solidarity, and specialization, in which a member withdraws himself from the community in order to devote his time and energies to some partlc-ular field. In primitive societies, specialists share perforce a vast number of tribal interests: the medicine man is interested in the buffalo hunt and thereby enjoys a social binding to the hunters; he is involved in wars and raids since his status to some extent depends on a perpetuation of the present social organization. In general, in primitive cul-tures, bindings between religious functions and the re-mainder of tribal functions are very strong. But when society develops, it tends to free itself more and more from nature (the ecological system); and it does so only to become more and more dependent upon man and man-to-man relations. This dependence must serve as a constructive and not a destructive force. In order to prevent diversification--which is absolutely necessary in a complex society--from becoming special-ization, we must manifest and recognize on a community level our mutual dependence; for example, the very real dependence of one teacher upon all the others. Here we see the importance of faculty meetings in which the par-ticular field of competence of one person is seen as com-plementing that of another. There are many ways of Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 196Z ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr~ O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS keeping different interests and fields of competence from becoming divisive. Perhaps greater stress should be placed on the apostolate as a community apostolate, a common effort, accomplished in different ways by each individual, but without thereby becoming any less communal in in-spiration, motivation, and reality. An awareness of our mutual dependence is absolutely necessary for the proper integration of personal activity towards our social goals. Interpersonal relationships in the religious community include not only individual-to-individual relations but also those of groups.-A formal grouping is one which is established de [acto and is recognized by the society as exercising a certain control of the whole. Chapters, councils, a faculty, special committees for accreditation, and so forth are all formal groupings. Informal groupings are not officially set up or estab-lished. We see examples of informal groupings during common recreation periods or when some religious work together informally as a group. Informal groupings can at times exercise more influence than the formal group-ings; that is especially true if the formal groupings are inoperative or if the i.nterrelationships between formal groupings is neglected. It is in the informal groupings that public opinion is formed and in many cases social innovation begins. The informal groupings should pro-vide much of the initiative and dynamism necessary for any society to be alive, to grow and develop, and to keep in touch with the members and their real needs and as-pirations. While informal groupings are very important, formal groupings are even more important in a religious com-munity; ours is by its nature a hierarchical society, and one strongly so. Therefore the effective functioning of our formal groupings is especially important for the vi-tality of the entire community. Inoperative formal group-ings, or artificiality in formal ,groupings, invites seg-mentation of the society, then disintegration, and finally demoralization. The history of the American Indian is an extreme case of precisely this. Factors leading to inoperative formal groupings are many. Among them are age differences, lack of precise definitions of ideals, and immaturity. For a well-function-ing community, superiors-,must be willing to present straightforward proposals to their councils or others' whose advice they are to seek. This means the full pres-entation of real cases that involve discussion and choice, not simply decisions for'ratification.9 In short, he must seek to collaborate. Also, he must have the humility and wisdom to consider minority positions; seeking support Ibid., pp. 270-273. only in numbers infallibly excites mistrust, resentment, opposition, or utter indit~erence. "The prudent and most efficient thing for the superior to do is to make the group share, from the beginning, in the common task.''1° Cooperation between formal and informal groupings is of the essence in achieving a healthy, vital c0mmufiity. This means that we must understand the roles which these groups are to play within, the community. More-over, since the religious community is so strongly hier-archical and the superior tO a large extent controls the interrelationships between formal and informal group-ings, he should be doubly alert, astute, and comprehend-ing in regard to the ideas generated in the informal groupings.Suspicion on the part of a superior is harmful to the vitality of the community, kills personal initiative, and tends again to artificial substitutions and the seg-mentation of the community fabric. But beyond this a superior must have the ability to select appropriate ideas from the informal groupingsmthose ideas which will prove beneficial to the community. It is difficult to re-spect a superior who accepts every suggestion that is of-fered to him or proves that he does not have the ability to choose well. In a primitive society he would in that eventuality lose status. Man-to-Ideals Relationships Under this heading we find community purpose and sense of purpose. In primitive society religion ferments the whole society. And certainly community goals, re-ligious ideals, can and should be important unifying fac-tors in a religious community. It is worthy of note here that in primitive ~ociety where the satisfying of the basic needs has such a prominent role, the upper echelons tend to have the same ideals as those of lower status, the .young as the old, the specialists as those engaged in community projects. When the eco-logical needs become less urgent and the man=to-man relationships more important, it becomes more difficult for all to have the same ideals. But the religious commun-ity should be able to realize this unity of ideals in a way that other communities in contemporary life cannot. In a religious community we-ness will tend to be established by living according to a unique set of ideals--provided the ideals are well defined. Our fellowship, as we will see later, is a unique fellowship in Godl For social vitality and solidarity, it is better to define ideals clearly and energetically and then, as the need arises, to modify them than not to define them at all or to define .them haphazardly or casually. Searching for Ibid., p. 270. 4" 4" CEoxm~misuensity VOLUME 21, 1962 309 4. 4. dloysius OM.Se.hCr,., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ideals has little social result. Without well-defined, known, and accepted objectives, ideals will be fashioned individually and in groups; this leads directly to com-munity segmentation. In this situation, the very factors which in a healthy social organization cause solidarity and vitality have the el~ect instead of segmenting the community. Ideals must and will be formed. If the proper formal grouping will not define them, it is inevitable that informal groupings will attempt to fill this lack. Community goals and ideals, however, cannot be al-lowed to stagnate. Once they have been defined, they must be re-defined as social changes and new needs make themselves felt. In this sense, it is only by innovation that society can maintain its health and well-being. For these reasons, our ideals require constant modification and elaboration to insure their continued adequacy for the very real and growing society which they both reflect and form. Furthermore, wise inter-group relationships constitutd community dynamisms and insure that the social structures of the community are truly alive and' changing--that the incarnations of the community ideals are true responses to the appeals of the era and the per~ sons, that the community continues to be constituted through history in its response to the Word, that its voca-tion continues to be authentic. It is in this context that tradition possesses real meaning. One group, which is n.aturally the most capable of really fruitful effort in this direction, is the meetings oE the various spiritual directors on a regional or inter-national basis. Undoubtedly much good could be ac-complished by regular and well-prepared meetings of these spiritual leaders in each order or congregation. Each meeting should consist oE a series of scholarly papers followed by serious discussion. Here again, we should point out the grave responsibit-ity of superiors. Upon their shoulders must rest a good portion of the burden of keeping goals alive and develop-ing with the community itself. But this responsibility can-not be placed solely upon the superiors. For a society to develop, all should participate in the re-discovery of old ideals and the formation of new. Community is a "we"; its responsibilities are no less communal than the end which they serve. If a religious suffers from abnormal loneliness, an anthropologist would immediately look for some need which is neither being fulfilled nor et~ectively substituted for. Where such a condition exists, the man is not livit~g a whole life; and attempting to live a half life tends to-wards increasing frustration. The only effective remedy in such a case, according to anthropologists, is the real-istic integration of our activities by directing them mean- ingfully towards the specific and ,well-defined goals of our community. Any notable incidence of real loneliness will probably reveal upon careful .investigation some rupture in the social structure of the whole community-- whether ecological, man-to-man, or man-to-ideals, More-, over, from the fact that our society is in 'itself artificial to a certain extent (lacking almost necessarily the deep and elemental bindings of an ecological involvement), we must be doubly aware of the other unifying forces within our community. Part H: Community and Personal Creativity ~ Patterns of social organization are vital, without the slightest doubt. Much. of our actual failure to realize deeply and meaningfully fellowship with one another in a brother-to-brother relationship stems from the neglect or mismanagement of the social structure of our com-munity. Yet the religious community---even considered only as a deep community of men--is not simply cre-ated by experts. The expert manipulates, controls, studies problems, and finds solutions; but his union with his tools and the particular determined purposes of his craft is extrinsic. We can think in" this connection of the over-organiza-tion of working communes as they sprang upsince the last world war. Here, everything is functionalized--all the activities are planned out, with time alloted on the schedule for religion, recreation, and so forth, which are considered as necessary means for overhauling the ma-chine periodically. When people begin to see their lives coincide with the routines planned for them, when they see themselves and their own importance diminish to the level of cogs in a machine, their spirits harden, atrophy, and wither. Life becomes less than free in the sense that activities are not flowing from the deepest levels of being. They become re.ore and more a number in a filing system. This is no doubt an extreme case. But we must reso-lutely resist the temptation to reduce man simply to an aggregate of psychic functions and forget that he is a living soul. In my relations with the men in my com-munity, I am involved. My actions should not tend to build a wall of separation between the me I know myself to be and others. Given the thorough system of social con-trols characteristic of religious life, given too a life that is frequently arranged by my superiors, the most common temptation is to avoid reaching out in true personal ap-peal to the other in all his unique personality, but to see both him and myself as [unctions--a teacher, student, cook, carpenter, Mass-sayer (a cog in a machi'ne can never pray), a procurator, or sflperior. The conclusion we have been working towards is this: ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 dloysius Meh~, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community is not established by merely legislating laws, setting up a hierarchy of superiors.and subjects, or giving a dozen human beings a common residence. Nor can it be produced by a system' of techniques. Community must grow out of its members, for it is a highly personal gift of oneself to the other person in all the richness of his individuality. While techniques cannot produce community, they are nevertheless valuable in eliminating those things which could prevent community from happening; for example, enclosure within myself, being trapped, as it were, in a system of concentric circles which stand between me and my life. Furthermore, techniques are undoubtedly neces-sary for the effective accomplishment of particular, goals; for example, organizing a sports program requires some manipulating of people. But teamwork still remains a union based on something outside of the being of the other person;, while it may be a true degree of community, it is still not the fullness of human community, let alone: of fellowship in the word and love of God. "Community," Martin Buber .writes, '"is where com-munity happens.TM There is something in genuine meet-ing which extends beyond calculations, plans, and proj-ects. Just as my being is not definitely exhausted in any one particulai'ity of my life but overflows into promise and possibility,12 rooted in my existence and its destiny, so also the community is never definitely established, en-tirely a "given" factor, a.status; Community, the genuine union of beings, is created out of the depths of promise of my bei~ng. It is not pro-duced. Community is meeting; and that meeting which calls to the other from all that I am is essentially creative: something new happens, I become something that I was only potentially before, and in this connection I must think in terms of gilt or grace. I can remain open to re-ceive this gift of the other as long as I am not artificially isolated from my own being in a world of function; but somehow we are here in a realm in which the notions of cause and effect no longer apply with their full import--. I do not cause dialogue. Even more, in a very real sense, I am given to myself fully only in dialogue, in the gift of another self calling out to me, joining our lives in com-mon destiny and hope. "All real life :is meeting.''13 The energies of life become fully real only in community: [ am the possibility, even more, the promise of community in my most elemental reality as incarnate spirit. r~Between Man and Man, translated by Ronald Gregor Smith (Boston: Beacon, 1955), p. 31. '~ Marcel, Homo Viator, p. 26. ~ Martin Bub~r, I and Thou, translated by Ronald Gregor Smith (New York: Scribner's, 1958), p. 11. Hence community--and in a unique way, the religious community--fulfills a basic demand (exigence in French) of human being. The ability to say We, the possibility of genuine encounter presupposes beings who can love and give themselves to others, beings who are incarnati.ons of the spirit which man i~, a spirit embodied iia'spake.and time, in solidarity with the cosmos and the covenant of creation. The human spirit can be stifled for just so long--a time and a time and half a time of the Scrip-tures-- within the abstractions and reductions of a func-tionalized world which, we repeat, is a real danger in a religious community due to the artificiality and conven-tionalisms so easily developed in such a life. But in the well-chosen words of Gabriel Marcel, it seems, at least as far as man is concerned, tha~ even if life is weakened and in a way degraded, it must still retain a certain character of sacredness . We must accordingly realize, I think, that here we are faced with a~ certain absolute, and that this absolute must be assisted, however strong the temptation to resist it?' Man's spirit seeks the fullness of being, the fulfillment of its destiny.15 Even in the midst of degradation or open rebellion, the voice of his spirit calls out for authentic living. Rebellion is a call to another to answer my appeal, to respond, knowing that even if I fail, at least my call will go on being heard. Although many unfavorable things can be said about rebellion, yet we must admit that it is still authentic living. As Camus has written, "I rebel--therefore we are,''x~ In modern religious life, the danger is not primarily open rebellion. With us, frustration more frequently takes the place of rebellion. We begin with high ideals, but, after encountering many difficulties and meeting with many failures, it is easy for us to lose courage, to be-come despondent and frustrated. The principal cause of this frustration is the lack of understanding one's own abilities, strength, and weakness, Being frustrated, religious enclose themsdves within a shell of their own creation; they try to circumvent the full meaning of their vocation. Frustration is a flight from authentic living, and that is the reason why frus-trated religious try to escape and lose themselves in rou-tine or a ceaseless merry-go-round of activities. Here we see, or begin to see, the ontological.significance of frus-tration, despondency, and defense mechanisms--the psy- ~ The Mystery ol Being, translated by G. S. Fraser (Chicago: Regnery, 1950), v. 2, pp. 182-188. x~ Marcel, The Philosophy ol Existence, p. 4 a0Albert Camus, The Rebel, translated by Anthony Bower (New York: Vintage Books, 1959), p. 22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 Aloydm 0M.$eh.~r., REV~EWFOR RELIG;OUS chological and sociological ruptures which prevent com-munity from happening. It is in this context that we propose to re-investigate the three relationships already viewed on the anthro-pological level: my relationship to things, to other peo-ple, and to ideals. Creative Community and Things 1. Art. In our mechanized world, things are considered more and' more as means, even pure means (bona utilia), apart from myself, only accidentally and, ontologically speaking, haphazz'rdly coming into contact with me. Their own values are, for me, simply utilitarian. I fail to see in them the mystery of creation in which I also am essentially involved. Art, beauty--these are simply esoteric tinsel, luxuries for the functional man. In a way this man is only half a man, and hence only half himself, begrudging those energies of life with which his created and corporeal being is essentially in communion.,x7 It would be almost meaningless to tell such a man that his activities are incarnations of his being, for he has denied any essential involvement in this universe of space and time.xs When I live out of harmony with myself and the deep community of creation in which I am, which 'is my world, my environment, my ontological context, how can I truly give myself to another? Furthermore, how can a com-munity that is out of harmony with creation be worthy of being presented to Yahweh in the Eucharistic assembly as the sign of His pleroma? The famous American painter, Ben Shahn, writes: I have always believed that the character of a society is largely shaped and unified by its great creative works, that a society is molded upon its epics, and that it imagines in terms of its cre-' ated things--its cathedrals, its works of art, its musical treas-ures, its literary and philosophic works. One might say that a public may be so unified because the highly personal experi-ence (of the artist) is held in common by the many individual members of the public. The great moment at which Oedipus in his remorse tears out his eyes is a private moment--one of deepest inward emotion. And yet that emotion, produced by art, and many other such private and profound emotions, ex-periences, and images bound together the Greek people into a great civilization, and bound others all .over the earth to them for all time to come.1D Art brings into play the unifying forces of creation but' at a deeper, more subjective, and thoroughly personal~ a~ Von Balthasar, Science, Religion, and Christianity, p. 45. a~Bernard Haring, C.SS.R., The Law o] Christ, translated by Edwin G. Kaiser, C.PP.S, (Westminster: Newman, 1961), v. 1, p. 87. ag Ben Shahn, Shape o] Content (New York: Vintage Books, 1960), pp. 45-46. level. Lacking a developed and fully shared ecological sys-tem, the religious-community unity depends on other re-lations to our world, activities of creativeness, ingenuity, activities which produce "results," or better, activities in which my being sees fruition in the corporeal world in which I am. The point is that we should not i~eglect the unifying force of art, the union of persons in the beauti-ful, in the shared experience of meaningful incarnation. But the attitude of encounter with the beautiful is not limited to what we call the fine arts. If I pick up a chisel, it is simply a tool which I use to perform some task. Con-sider, however, the difference when a highly skilled artist or carpenter picks up a chisel. His work expresses him-self, gives himself to the community. Here we return to the general theme of these 'pages: df community is to happ.en, I must give mysel[, and not simply offer the other some service which I perform. In art--from garden-ing to the liturgical setting--I give myself, I entrust to the community that deep and personal experience of creativ-ity. In accepting another's art, we "welcome" him. To welcome is active, personal, embracing. I go out of my-self to meet the other, to invite him to feel at home with me. We cannot merely accept the other's art, whatever it may be, as we accept the result of an assembly line. To accept his art, I must reach out and take his work into my own life; and by doing so I take him, too, into my life. And here again we glimpse a moment when com-munity happens. If a community does not accept the beautiful, it neglects an important binding force--a neglect which will tend to re-appear in personal encounters. Without the proper at-titude toward art, even the deep significance of liturgical symbolism and expression will lose some of the vitality which it was meant to have. The community chapel, above all, should be a masterpiece of art, expressing community, proclaiming the fellowship in God which we are. 2. Play. Finally, we should consider more deeply the meaning of play. Perhaps play is not the deepest of the arts, but it is a true creative expression of man.2° Play is of its nature public. "Through play we find ourselves no longer imprisoned and isolated in our own individual-ity.'' 21 Play "is act in its spontaneity, acting in its very activity, the living impulse.''~ As a vital phenomenon or manifestation of human being, play--to be genuine-- demands a man in contact with reality; "only the vital Eugene Fink, "The Ontology of Pla}'," Philosophy Today, v. 4 (1960), pp. 95-109. Ibid., p. 96. Ibid., p. 97. ÷ + ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 315 4. 4" 4- A~oysius Meh~, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS being., can die, work, struggle, love, and play. Only such a being is in touch With surrounding reality and the total environment--the world.''u3 Humanplay . is a creation through the medium of pleasure of a world of imaginary acuv~ty . Play ~s always character, ized by an element of representation (something like the real world and its rules, but never degrading into routine). This element determines its meaning. It then effects a transfigura-tion: life becomes peaceful.~' In our own world, play is apt to be a highly organized, commercial project; and here again its mea'ning tends to become more and more functionalized---I play, not for delight, but in order to preserve physical and psychic health. If we would look for a moment at the primitive world, we would find far more significant contours: In the primitive times, play was not practiced so much as an act in its pleasure-giving aspect as is the case for those isolated individuals or groups who periodically detach themselves from the social group to inhabit their own little isle of passing hap-piness. Originally, play was the strongest unifying force. It founded a community quite different, it is true, from that of the living and the dead, the governing and the governed, and even from that based on the family. The community of play of primitive man included all the forms and structures of com-mon life., and it called forth a reliving of all the elements of life. This reached its high point in the community festival. The ancient feast., was a liturgical spectacle where man ex-perienced the proximity of the gods, heroes, the dead, and where he found himself in the presence of all the beneficent and dreadful powers of the universe . What was represented was nothing less than the whole universe.= Genuine play is extremely important in a religiou:; community. We will develop this point further in Part III where we will see that community recreation should serve as a catechesis of the proper celeb'ration of the~ Eucharistic festival--the Mass. Inter-personal Creativity: Intersub]ectivity Community exercises are significant only in as far as they involve an encounier with the Thou. This is the point, above all others, which we must remember. This is the heart of the matter. Divorced from all genuine en-counter with the Thou, community exercises are mean-ingless. In our very proximity, it is easy for me--because of routine, fatigue, and so forth---to consider my confrere less and less as a person (a Thou) and more and more ;ts an object (an It). An object is contained within itself, something which I can possess and manipulate. A person Ibid. Ibid., pp. 104-105. Ibid., pp. 105-106. is a being to whom I can call out, whom I can invoke, who is able to return my call, and in our response to each other create community. I can say "We." But to approach the other in his own unique being and destiny, in all that makes him himself, I myself must be a presence to him. Self-consciousness atrophies,, encloses me in .myself; we may be with one another physically and temporarily, but we have not yet realized Mitsein, that full union in love and welcome where deep calls out to deep. Without doubt, our lives and our encounters with one another tend to form stereotyped patterns. In accordance with our rule and constitutions,~l meet others at certain determined places and at set times. We are joined to-gether for specific purposes: prayer, recreation, work, in short, every conceivable type of community exercise. In a way there is constant community. I am very little in real solitude whether before God or before men. The students whom I teach in the classroom, the community for whom I cook or for whom I build cabinets, the confreres with whom I watch television--these are certainly beings with whom I exist; and even though I cannot speak of the re-ligious life as being entirely or ~even properly speaking functionalized, yet frequently there is something in the other which I am neglecting. P~r~haps 1 am polite and courteous: I smile at the other and laugh at his jokes; I try to understand his problems and offer him sympathy-- and still; perhaps, we stand more in juxtaposition than in community. But there are moments when this half-face to the 'world breaks down, hours of.grace (kairos.in St. John) in which the possibility of far deeper community is suddenly revealed. It is then that we see individuals in an entirely new perspective and their presence becomes more mean-ingful to us. A time of community crisis can draw us to-gether in this way, and we learn to depend on a confrere as he is, and not just in what he does---or better, what he does incarnates what he is. The world from which our candidates come has been well described as a broken world.20 This factor must be kept in mind while considering, the present-day prob-lems of religigus life. Older forms of unity have been gradually breaking down--the family, for instance, has been to a great extent replaced by the peer group, the gang, the more casual associations. Political and techno-logical unions have become strong~ r, suggesting a growth 'in world unity. But frequently, ~he new unions which have sprung up are on the impersonal plane; technol-ogy, for. example, unites the worlO" because cultural dif- ~ Marcel, The Mystery o! Being, v. 1; pp. 22-47. The title used for this chapter is "A Broken World." ~ 4. 4. 4. Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 317 + Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 318 ferences do not prevent a person from working a machine; in principle any one at all can learn this operation. But "any one at all," l'on,.das Man, does not exist. What exists are real people, individual, free beings, irreplace-able in the solitude of their liberty. In those moments of human existence in which I some-how transcend the world of mechanisms, I sense another dimension which I know to be more basic, and more real. I sense that there is something in myself and in the self of the other which is immanently private and which does not lend itself to concepts or superficial unifying or binding forces; this is unique subjectivity, the deepest level of per-sonal existence, that which constitutes me as I, the irreduc-ible core of personality, the shrine of what is most serious and authentic in me, the theatre of my eternal commit-ments. It is this dimension of mystery which constitutes the great distinction between persons themselves. Regardless of how close two persons may unite with one another, something of the other's.subjectivity will always evade the other: he may become a Thou for me, we may even speak with full force and meaning the word "We," but the other is always profoundly other than me. The We is precisely for this reason a miracle or the grace that it is. We can never be like two drops of water coming together to form a single drop. I may give myself deeply in love and hope to another, but he will always remain absent from me in some way and this hbsen~e is what makes him uniquely himself. But it is of the essence to note that the other is dis-closed to me in his full contingency only in those situ-ations in which we are genuinely open to one another. I can hardly speak of the mystery of subjectivity--the revelation of the other--without speaking of the mystery of intersubjectivity--the mutual revelation of both ofu~, which includes the gift of the other person to me. Here; we can speak more justly and fully of presence: presencel reveals a human dimension beyond that of proximity or even of sharing an experience, and this is the dimension of full encounter, coesse, of co-presence.~7 Presence is in its deepest reality co-presence. The structure of this situation is one of appeal and response. To meet another', I must call out to him, or welcome his appeal to myself by responding with my whole being, and not simply with a stereotyped, pre-determined response. When I speak to another, the area of mutual concern may be a purely business proposition; but if I welcome him into my life, if there springs up deep sympathy in the basic meaning of that word, we Roger Troisfontaines, S.J., De L'Existence a l'Elre (Louvain: E. Nauwelaerts, 1953), v. 2, p. 21. are to another something more than a billboard which announces the time of a community exercise or an IBM machine that reels off information. The question he asks me implies his faith in my ability to answer--my ability to stand, as it were, in his place and understand his question "from the inside.''2s" ~'The question, anyway, operates as an appeal, a signal that may or may not be received.''29 The appeal reaches me in my freedom. I may respond by being, for all practical purposes, some sort of information machine; yet in t~he course of our conver-sation, he becomes something more than a "somebody." "That is, he participates more a~d more in the absolute which is unrelatedness and we cease more and more to be 'somebody' and 'somebody e!se.' We become simply 'US.' "30 This is not merely a psychol~gical interpretation of emotional experience, for realistically speaking, "I cannot really invoke 'anybody'; I can only 'pretend~ to do so. In other words, it appears as if inv'ocation can only be ef-ficacious where there is communiiy.''al Truly, I can speak the word Thou to another only Where community is re-vealed, and we speak the word We.m This deep dimension of human reality reveals me to m~self; in my.deepest and freest being, I find the mystery Of intersubjectivity, the mystery of our solidarity in the destinies of the human phenomenon and the covenant of'creation. Although the sharpest mani[esthtion of this ontological community of men tends to be the somewhat dramatic events--birth, death, love, and go forth--which break in on our course of existence?3 still intersubjectivity runs in a scale from, for example, the chance smile of a stranger from whom I happened to ask directions in a city I am not familiar with to the union with one another in Ghrist in the Eucharistic assembly. Thi(. is important for com-munity life; by holding myself open to the other, by mak-ing myself available, by my. willingness to welcome him, entirely mechanical situations like asking a routine per-mission from my superior can be illuminated with a bit of the radiance of the truly significant. The deepest moments of intersubjectivity can act perhaps as beacons, reflecting that, unit most clearly and fully. As I enter the religious liie and make my pro-fession, the community kiss of peace manifests beautifully the community which has been created in me. This mo- ~ Gabriel Marcel, Metaphysical Journal, translated by Bernard Wall (London: Rockliff, 1952), p. 21. "Ibid., p. 143. ~ ~a I bIbidid.,, pp. 114761. ~ Ibid., p. 303. a Marcel, The Philosophy o] Existence, pp. 3-4. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 319 4. Aioysius Mehr, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ment, though past, can be kept alive, can remain a presence to me--a moment of deep community to which I bear witness in the day-to-day encounters. I know, deeply within myself, that these encounters, for all their routine, flow forth from the community which we are, the com-munity which must be ever renewed through the passing years in creative fidelity to the situations in which. I am given to myself as one whose life, in the religious com-munity, is a being-with. From this point of view, we can look more closely at the full meaning of the opportunities of our religious com-munity: The closeness in which we live with one another is dangerous if reduced to the level of the functional, but it can just as truly point out to us the heights and depths of intersubjectivity. Social bindings open out into onto-logical community. Religious community life is rooted in social organizations and patterns, but it exists on the level of the human person in his freedom. In conclusion, the activities of our religious life must reflect the deep fact of our community-being, of our being-with one another, sharing a common destiny, united in the bonds of true love in Christ, For the structure of intersubjectivity is in its fullness, the structure of love. But we must be willing to see the levels and the manifestatiom of this love dim from time to time, just as in marriage the union in love has its ups and downs. Nevertheless, I must be aware of my deep responsibility to make my-self what Louis Lavelle calls "accessible" and Gabriel Marcel "disponible" or "availabie" to the other. Marcel equates this accessibility with charity, and quite rightly so.34 This is the fundamental posture or attitude for any fruitful communication between men, a communication which means opening myself to the presence and in-fluence of the other, desiring this presence, and being will-ing to go out into something that is quite different from myself. The self-centered egoist finds it impossible to be accessible and available. He is incapable of sympathiz~ ing with other people or imagining their situation. "He remains shut up in himself, in the petty circle of his private experience, which forms a kind of hard shell round him that he is incapable of breaking through.''3G Handy rules for making encounter possible, while help-ful, cannot be used without the danger of taking up a position outside the encounter itself in order to manipulate both the other and myself.3e I can perhaps ~' Ibid., p. 15. ~ Marcel, The Mystery o/Being, v. 10 p. 201. a Dale Carnegie gives.many of these handy rules in his famous book How to Win Friends and Influence.People (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1936). The value of some of these rules is questionable because of their pharisaical tendencies. be more aware of what I cannot do--in summary, tO treat him as an object, as a somebody, as anyone at all, as a function (whether teacher., farpenter, or any o[ the categories that can substitute for the person). In dis-agreements, I must respect the gift, for the other gives himself to me in his ideas and intdrpretations; in com- ¯ munity we can seek not a Procru~stean compromise but a kind of common expectation so that together we can go on seeking the light of truth. Th~ very things which tear us apart from one another~differences in age, in taste, in talent, in personal history-~zan unite us, not in a collectivity where differences are ignored or frowned upon, but in a community of mu[ual understanding. Creativity and Community Ideals High ideals attract men; the. higher the ideals the greater the attraction. Ideals fire, men with enthusiasm. But ideals cannot be handed physically to me as, for in-stance, a book or the constitutions.' Ideals can be described on paper, but they cannot exist oh paper. They are real-ized only in free creativity at the ~ery depths of being. More particularly, the ideals of. a gommunity must be ideaIs for particular men. They must be possible of fulfill-ment in their unique life and in the unique situation which invites their loyalty andS,, faithfulness to them. Every religious must create, again and again, the tra, di-tions and ideals of his order or congregation .by incarnat-ing them anew in his own life. The passage of ideals to incarnate human life, to act and incarnation in space and time is truly creative, for it ~nvolves a full and personal gift of myself creating meaning. Bu~t this does not happen in a void, but rather in an encounter, or 'a revelation of what I am (in the community that we are) that calls forth my witness and fidelity. An e, ncounter means a call and a response; a gift and a pre~ence of another who confronts me in my uniqueness; a re'alization of the destiny which lies at the heart o[ myselL "In action," writes Teilhard, "I cleave to the creatlve~ power of God; I co-incide with it; I become not only its instrument but its living prolongation.''~7 In the words of Gabriel Marcel: We have to realize that there are modes o[ creation which do not belong to the aesthetic order, and which are within the reach of everybody and it is in so far as he is a creator, at how-ever humble a level, that any man at all can recognize his own freedom.~ In our context, this means that in my freedom I must ~ Teilhard de Chardm, The D:vtne Md~eu, pp. 26-27. m Gabriel Marcel, Man Against Mass Society, translated by G. Fraser (Chicago: Regnery, 1952), p. 16. 4. 4. 4. Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. 4. Alo~$ius OM~e.Ch~r., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS respond to the unique religious vocation, which I have received from God, and that response is the truly creative assumption of the ideals, traditions, customs, and rules of my community. If I am to be a religious, and not merely act like one, I must enter into the living tradition of my community, see clearly the deep relationship be-tween law and reality (law in its deepest meaning in Christianity is the living out of our incorporation in Christ), and sense within myself the dynamism within the community, the promise of the future held in the hands of the present moment, the hour of trlal and grace. By translating the traditional ideals of my particular community into my life, I reach back into the very an. rials of history and, at the same time, proclaim that which is yet to come. I enter into living communion with the past and the future, with all who have professed, or will in the future profess, these ideals. Ideals seen in their' existent,_'al fullness are moments of consecration, joininl~ us with the ever-continuing history of our community. As Hiiring points out, History is to be viewed from the standpoint of the "now" in relation to beginning and end. The historic present reaches out into past and future. The past has its heritage which may be compared to the warp and woof of a rich fabric constantly redesigned into marvelously new and alluring shapes and formsi The treasure.is a summons or invitation, and a challenge as well, to the free will of man in the historic moment of the present.~ My response to this challenge wiaps up the rich her-itage of my order in the dynamism of my unique, per-sonal life, and.hands it as a sacred trust to the community, enriched, for future generations. By thus entering deeply into the We, and sharing together, feeling together in our deepest being the subtle movements and aspirations which translate possibility into act and thus tradition into life, and being into incarnations, I realize existentially arid not only notionally or rationally both the being which I am called to be and the significance of the union of men who have joined their own destinies together in respond-ing to the same ~hallenge. But just as we cannot understand man until we see his marvelous destiny, so we cannot begin to see the beauty and mystery of our community until we view it in its promise, in its dynamic growth and activity towards fullness. The religious community, as we pointed out in the introductory pages of this paper, exists within two wider communities--the community of life and t'J~e community of grace--from which it draws its own vital- The Law o] Christ, v. 1, p. 87. ity and life-thrust. In either Community, our destiny is not encompassed by the immediate projects, particular ends, or temporary goals. Our being plunges back into the dynamisms of created being itself; and in us the world achieves a certain completion of its own dest!ny. We are then a kind of particular and contingent, though nonetheless real, summation or symbol or eikon, image, of the community of all being. But the deepest values of our activity do not only capitulate in us the mystery of creation and the dy-namisms of life. As Teilhard would phrase it, ontogenesis has passed on into Christogenesis. Creation has been caught up, in its deepest dynamisms, into the new cre-ation, which is fulfillment, not destruction (Eph 2:15). As a community within the Church, and indeed its true eihon, its incarnation, we continue the forces of creation through the Incarnation and the New Adam into the promise and pledge of the Parousia (1 Cor 15:24). In this perspective, or better in this divine milieu, lies the true significance of our activities; we are bound together under a common cause which is as wide and deep as the community of men and as transcendent in its promise as the parousial presence in which life and temporality shall be consummated in the supreme en-counter of love. Seen in this light, we must modify our earlier thesi~ about the artificiality of the religious community. Adapt-ing Teilhard's terminology and the vision of St. Paul, we can rightly say that the religious community is an anticipation of a later and final stage of evolution, the unity of all men in Christ, the Omega point of historical being. This higher unity of mankind, which we an-ticipate, involves a center of gravity, a focal point, an axis above and beyond the ecological and physical. And what is this axis of religious community life? It is charity. The religious community must be founded on love of God and neighbor. This new level of mankind, as any leap in evolution, involves a definitive departure, a break from the lower stages even though it is their continuation, ful-fillment, and transformation.4° And yet, as an anticipation we are beginning to create the new within the old; this combination of the old and the new must involve sacrifice and tension--the death of the type as we pass into the era of the antitype, the dis-sipation of shadow as we strive to realize the light. There is tension and strain. Creation groans and is "in the pangs of childbirth" (Rom 8:22). Life is born through death. In our very community, creation is being re-capitulated in Christ. Christ is being born! The Divine Milieu, p. 86. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Exegcises VOLUME 21, 1962 323 dloysius Mehr, 0~.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Part HI: Community in the Word The deepest significance of religious community exer-cises is not found in mere human encou.nter, but in the encounter with men in God. Religious life .is a charism, a localized outpouring of the Spirit of God, who fills the whole .Church, in such an intense and concentrated way as to bear witness to a particular reality which in varying degrees permeates the whole Church. Keligious life is not radically different from Christian life; rather it is the living image, the eikon, the type and inauguration of perfect Christian life. The perfection to which all Christians are called and in which all shall share when the Day of the Lord dawns is incarnately realized in the Church today by the religious life, which can be called the "sacrament" of Christian perfection. The flourishing of religious life in the Church stands an apocalyptical pledge that the things to come will truly come because they have already been realized living type; religious life bears encouraging witness to each generation of Christians that the life of the Gospel can truly be lived to the full now, into the fullness that is to come. Such a witness can only be the fruit of the Spirit outpoured in charismatic plenitude. Once the religious life is seen as charismatic, its sacra-mental and ecclesiological dimensions become apparent and important. Since the religious life is the image of perfect Christian life, the basic structure of religious life must be seen in relation to the strhctural pattern of the Church's life. The possible points of reference here are numerous; we will limit the discussion to two features of Christian life which seem to be most fundamental. First, the Church is a community formed by the word of God. Secondly, the Church is a community of sacramental worship. Community in Covenant The Church of the New Testament, seen in the con-tinuity of sacred history as recorded in the. Scriptures, is the fulfillment of that people of God which was in continual formation down through Old Testament times by the gradually unfolding revelation of the Word of God. After the fall, God's Word appears on the human scene as a call; God called Abraham to leave his people and his father's house for a land of promise in which his descendants would multiply until they became as numer-ous as the sands of the sea (Gen 12:1). When Abraham responded to the initial promptings of God's Word, God spoke again to Abraham to make a covenant with him for a mutual sharing of destiny down through Abraham's posterity, which would come into being as a result of God's Covenant-Word. Abraham's family came into being as the family of God (Gen 15). As the history of the family of God folds back upon it-self, the same pattern emerges in the formation of the Israelite people from the family of Abraham. The Israel-ites were called out of Egypt to hear the Word of God proclaimed on Mount Sinai'(Ex 3:16--17). Another cov-enant resulted from this new proclamation, a covenant which was again creative of the community with whom it was made (Ex 24:8). The Israelites became a spiritual community in becoming the people of God in the Mosaic covefiant. The pattern recurs again as each successive wave of revelation leaves in its wake a fuller, more spiritualized community to whom God's Word is addressed as a call and a covenant. There can be no doubt from the annals of sacred history that when God speaks to man He speaks to man in community. In the dialogue between God and man, God is the I who speaks the creative Thou to the community. In the light of the fall of Adam, this dialogue appears as a healing dialogue. The community of the'human race disintegrated in sin. It appears to be God's plan to build it back up again meticulously in time, .through the gradual revelation of his creative Word in a gradually more perfect community, until these last times in which He speaks to us by a Son (Heb 1:2). He is the perfect Word uttered in the community which in the new Adam already exists but which is still being perfegted. (created) and realized (actualized) in all the members of the new human race by the continued call and proclamation of the new covenant in every life and time. In the realm of salvation, man does not walk alone and he is not free to do whatever he chooses. He is saved in community by the healing Word of God which is spoken to and in the community which it itself creates. The inner structure and dynamism of the Church is to be and to become this community of the Word of God. Let us now look more closely into the religious life in terms of what has already been said. If the religious life is to be the type and the eschatalogical pledge of the life of the Church, it ought to be the flesh-and-blood realiza-tion par excellence of the community of the Word of God. It is here that the progress of sacred history toward the fulfillment of God's plan of perfect community ought to be moving forward to the last day when the perfect community of the cosmos will be reheaded in Christ and God will be all in all (I Cor 15:28). The implications of this reach deeply into the basic attitudes incarnate in the concrete circumstances of re- Eoxme~mc~uen$lty VOLUME 21, 1962 325 Alo~situ Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ligious life. If the religious community is to be at all, the breath--the spirit-~of. God's Word must be free to move through and in us. Through baptism and confirmation we received the Spirit unto the building up of the com-munity to the full stature of Christ.4x The religious com-munity must be the community of the Word of God, true to the pattern of sacred history outlined above: call, proclamation of the Word, covenant. 1. (Tall. We are accustomed to the idea of a vocation to the religious life. We must draw this out to its concrete conclusions. First, when God calls man He calls him to community. A vocation to the religious life .is a call to community. Secondly, when God calls man to a religious community, He calls him to be initiated into a particular religious community. This means that the candidate must undergo a true initiation into the concrete life of that community and that he must successfully complete the initiation: he has to prove himself ready and able to renounce anything and everything which stands between him and the ideals of his vocation, to accept deeply in his incarnate being the two-edged sword of the Spirit. The religious pre-novitiate and novitiate training ought to be for the religious community what the catechu-menate was for the primitive Church. It ought to test the authenticity of the call. The community, but also the candidate, must ask the question: Is the Word of God truly at work here? God speaks toman in human language, not in weight-less abstractions. Hence the family background of the candidate must be looked into to see if God's Word came to him through parents genuinely in touch with God by their lives of faith. I[ the indications here are strongly negative, the.stronger influence of less natural channels of God's Word must be evident. Because of the psychology involved in such a situation, the candidate's response to this call must be tested for its supernatural authenticity by a convergence of other factors indicating the working and direction of Providence with adverse circumstances. The following questions must be answered: first, hits the candidate attained at least the minimum strength of character, mental health, and social ability required for successful community life; for the monastery or convent cannot function as a rehabilitation center without in-justice to its other members. Secondly, does the candidate at least show promising signs of being able to respond to maturing influences that will be able to help him to ~ Eph 4:13; see La Saihte Bible de Jerusalem (Paris: Cerf, 1956), p. 1546, note n: "Non pas simplement le chrfitien arriv~ h l'~tat de 'parfait,' mais l'Homme parfait en un sens collectif: soit le Christ lui-m~me., soit mieux encore le Christ total, T~.te. et mere- grow to a greater measure of personal authenticity? If the latter is the case, one must investigate whether or not these maturing influences so much needed are actually present in the community which the candidate wishes to join and whether they will be accessible to him. ~This is only another way of asking whether this person,~who does seem to be called by God, is being called to thig particular community. 2. Proclamation. This has led us to our next point. The community has been called together to hear the Word of God; hence that Word must be. authentically proclaimed in the community. In the Church there are official proclaimers, messengers (kerukes), for this task: the priestly hierarchy. In the religious community, this responsibility rests primarily with the superiors. They must be men of God's Word. The Bible must be familiar ground to them. They ought to be able to breathe the Scriptures. God's Word cannot be spoken with authority except by men who themselves hear the Word of God and keep it. St. Paul's timely words to Timothy, the head of the Ephesus community, point out this obligation: Attend to the public reading of Scripture, to preaching., to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was g~ven you by prbphetic utterance when the elders laid their hands upon you. Practice these duties, devote yourself to them, so that all may see your progress. Take heed to yourself and your teaching; hold to that, for by so doing you will save both your-self and your hearers (1 Tim 4:15--16; see also Col 3:16). The central time and place for the proclamation of God's Word to the community is the liturgy. Everything within the range of possibility should be done to make this proclamation authentic. The laws of liturgical psy-chology must be understood and incorporated into actual liturgical practice. Also it should be understood that proclaiming God's Word in the liturgy is not confined to the scriptural readings but extends to the homily or sermon delivered in the assembly. It is a mistake to think that because religious do a great deal of spiritual reading they do not need to hear sermons. Faith comes from hearing (Rom 10:17). The Scriptures must be au-thoritatively interpreted in relation to concrete con-temporary events. Here the jurisdictional power of su-periors can be seen to be more than a matter of legality. Theirs is the charism to preach authoritatively and to recognize the authentic prophetic spirit in those whom they delegate to preach. In general, there ought to be within the community a real atmosphere of reverence to the Bible. This is mani-fested, for instance, in the handling of the sacred books. Dilapidated Missals ought not be found on the altar. Out-side of the liturgical assembly, the Missal should not be ÷ ÷ Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 AIoysi~s Mehr, O&C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS carelessly thrown in the corner of the sacristry but re-served in a place of honor, like the Blessed Sacrament and the Holy Oils. The same can be said for the Bible used for community reading during the meal, and to a lesser extent for the copy of the Bible kept by individuals in their rooms. Private Bible reading ought to be en. couraged within the spiritual reading program; but this entails some instruction in how to read the Bible, es-pecially for those who do not have the benefit of an in-tensive Scripture course. All these things are only ex. amples, but they indicate a direction .of attitude which must be fostered if the seed of God's Word is to find good ground to grow into a community. 3. Covenant. The proclamation of the Word of God in the community climaxes in covenant, an intimate I. Thou relationship of God with the community. Itshall be a continual burnt offering throughout your genera-tions at the door of the tent of meeting before the Lord; where I will meet with you, to speak there with you . And I will dwell among the people of Israeli and will be their God. And they shall know that I am the Lord their God, who brought them lorth out o] the land oI Egypt that I might dwell among them: I am the Lord their God (Ex 29:42-46). The intimacy of the covenant is best expressed in the Scriptures by the idea of a sacred meal with God at the time of the covenant. "Then Moses and Aaron and Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up and they saw the God of Israel . they beheld God and ate and drank" (Ex 24:9-11). The sacred meal will be discussed later. What is of moment here is that God addresses the community as Thou. He covenants with the community. He shares the destiny of the community, and in this way alone does the community become God's people, heir to the promises. "I will be your God and you will be my people" (Jet 32:38)~ The community has in fact been established by the progressive call of God through both Testaments. Or, to put it more critically, the concrete possibility has been established for the authentically Christian community to become to be, to grow in creative fidelity into being fully what it already is in the reality of infallible promise. Nor is the creative, call merely the point of origin; the call is repeated through and in the community of the Church to each generation for the divinization of every era. We are in fact inserted into this order of the Spirit; and by this very reality bear the serious responsibility of. hastening the Parousia (2 Pet 3:12) by a total effort to build community, to respond to the creative call ad- dressed to us, to assure that there will be in us a Thou for the moment when God speaks his "I." There must be real communion of persons who have an authentic, conscious, un-egocentric participation in the human nature and creatureliness they share in their com-mon flesh from the loins of Adam. There must be com-munity in which Christ is progressively becoming in-carnated and given being-in-the-world, caught up, as it were, by the Spirit and created time and time again in authentic response (possible only in community) to the liturgical Word. proclaimed now, as in times past, in liturgical community. Then the great Passover of Jesus from the Cross into the glory of His Resurrection~ Ascen-sion, and Enthronement can take root- in the world and create from our community authentic and supernatural Christian community, the Body of the Lord. For a man to enter the We :of the community, certain things must happen to him. For one thing~ he must have experienced encounter with other persons in the com-munity. This occurs on various interpenetrating levels. On the sacramental level, the encounter begins with his initiation into the Church through baptism and confirma-tion which are an encounter with the concrete Church community. In the religious life a further sacramental encounter is the act of religious profession. Think of the handclasp, the Amen of the community, and the kiss of peace. , Through baptism, confirmation, and profession, the religious has already met the members ofthe community on the sacramental level, the. authenticity of which meet-ing will depend on the authenticity of the ritual. This also means that he is ontologically structured for and pledged to this encounter in all its dimensions. Other levels of encounter which are basic to the we experience are the father-son relationship between su-perior and subject, the brother relationship between con-freres, the teacher-student relationship, and the more in-timate encounter of true religious friendship. A parish community is as strong as the basic I-Thou relationship between the husband and wife in the families of the pa.rish, since marriage is the effective sign of the Church. similarly a promotion of genuine I-Thou relationships within the community builds up the great We of the I. Thou relationship with God, as the.se experiences open the personalities of the religious to that common human nature and creatureliness which would otherwise be hoarded up individualistically by each selbcenter. The human nature and creatureliness which we share is a concrete human nature and creatureliness incarnate in the human beings around us, and it is there where it must ÷ Community VOLUME 21, 1962 32g ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS be met. Here we have the sensible, real basis, the sign, of the Body of Christ which is realized in sacrament. Another experience which conditions for and builds up the great We is the common sharing of a rich ex-perience, a going through something together, a com-mon passover. God made his covenant with Israel after the Exodus experience, after the people had passed through the Red Sea together. This experience involves the elements of crisis, judgment, and victorious issue. Once again, on the sacramental level, this is accomplished through the catechumenate and initiation sacraments of baptism and confirmation in which the candidate shares the Christian community's experience of the Exodus, of the Passover from the Egypt of sin through the Red Sea of baptism to the new life of the people of God. In the religious life a further sacramental or ritual sharing of crisis-victory is embodied in profession, the passover into the state of perfection. But this sacramental ontology of community on the basis of shared experience becomes incarnate in and is the fulfillment of numerous experiences undergone on other levels of life. Religious life can provide many ex-cellent experiences of solidarity through crises and vic-tories. As examples can be mentioned: working out phil-osophical and theological problems; a difficult community project such as the continued and successful support of a mission; a common experience of joy such as might be expected at ordinations and professions; the death of a member of the community; in short, any event which deeply affects the community. This solidarity in experience is not limited to events. What may be more important is the common experience of the presence of great persons. Just as the Israelite community was somehow bound up in the persons of Moses, Josue, and Aaron, and just as the Church is bound up in the persons of Christ, the Apostles, and the Virgin Mary, so the religious community is bound up in the per-sons of its superiors and leading figures. The superior must be a deep, spiritually mature person who is in personal contact with his community so that the members of the community actually have a chance to experience him and feel a solidarity in this experience. As fdr the other leading figures in the community, the more deep personalities God has given to a community, so much richer will that community life be as the solidarity in this experience broadens the horizons of the com-munlty. It is a corruption of a precious gift for a com-munity to consider its outstanding members as divisive forces or to make them feel like isolated individualists. Sharing the experience of encounter with a great man is one of the strongest bonds of unity there is between man and man. We have discussed some factors in the formation of the community We which becomes the Thou whom God addresses in his covenant dialogue. There is one other element of covenant that should be mentioned, and it is the sharing of destiny. God becomes involved in the community's destiny and the community is caught up into God's great mystery of salvation, the secret hidden from the ages and revealed fully in his Son, the movement of salvation history (Col 1:26-27). There is a movement toward fulfillment, toward Pleroma. Christ has already been established as the Head of new order in heaven, but his Body is still undergoing construction upon earth. The completion of Christ's Body is being realized little by little. It is a steady growth until the full measure of the perfect Man is attained. This fullness, Pleroma, means that in Christ harmony has been established among all things, that the universe is "filled b~ the creative presence of God."42 When this day shall arrive, the Church will contain Christ in his fullness. The Church will reach the stature of the perfect man (Eph 1:23), The movement .of salvation history, however, is not inevitable. God is faithful and will accomplish His pur-pose, but His people do not always respond with like fidelity, and He will not use force. If the Day of the Lord is to come, it is the Christian community, we, who must hasten it (2 Pet 3:12), we who must move ahead; and we are free to contribute to this forward movement or to hold it it check. If we should choose the latter, we would become like the Thessalonians who sat around and waited for the Parousia and who were upbraided for their pre-sumption (2 Th). The religious community ought to be an advance guard unit in this forward march, for it is by definition a place of perfection and fulfillment. This again points up the necessity for the proclamation of the Word of God in the community. The history of salvation is contained in the Scriptures. God's plan is there, and only those who are familiar with its patterns are capable of reliable frontier work on the boundaries of sacred history. Ful-fillment does not mean reckless lunging out in any direc-tion. Yet neither i~ it all mapped out in detail. Here the living tradition of the Scriptures assumes its rightful im-portance. The leaders of the community must be men who walk in the way of the Lord and meditate on His law. If we may say so, they must have a scriptural instinct, a Pierre Benoit, O.P., "Corps, t~te et pl~r6me darts les Rpitres de lacaptivit~," Revue Biblique, v. 63 (1956), pp. 5-44. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community VOLUME 21, 1962 .331 ÷ Aloysius OM.Se.hCr., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a feel for the way God does things, and a contact with the currents of life in the Church. They must be attentive to the voice of higher authority and at the same time be aware of the prophetic movements within their own com-munity. They literally have to know which way the Wind --the Holy Spirit--is blowing. Community in Worship At this point lines of thought begin to converge: the Word of God, community, covenant, sacred history; and their point of convergence is worship. We may say that the community called into being by the Word of God in the context of sacred history through the intimacy of the covenant is primarily a worshiping community. What happens in Christian sacramental rituals? The Word of God, spoken once definitively in Jesus Christ, is spoken now in the Church community which is the Body of Christ, the real, glorified soma tou Christou, which is building up to completion. Ritual makes possible.through its pneumatic bodiliness, its symbolic or sacramental na-ture, the entrance by the commUnity here and now into the great sacramental moment, the primordial time, Christ's great Resurrection Passover, which stands at a particular moment of history yet transcends it, catches up within itself the vitality of all history, its direction and its completion. Here the Christian community whose task it is to move sacred history ahead, to build up the Body of Christ, is in contact with the vital source of the upward thrust of sacred history: the leap of the crucified Jesus up into the life of the Christos-pneuma. Covenant intimacy with God becomes possible in ritual: the I-Thou rela-tionship between the Father and the community comes into being in the spoken word and the meal ritual (or other symbolic act), in both of which, taken together, the risen Christ in whom we meet the Father is present through the working of the Spirit. By hearing the ef-fective Word together and eating the sacred meal to-gether (or doing the ritual action of the other sacraments), the members of the community pass together through the greatest of all experiences: the Passover of Christ, the primordial passage of non-being into being, of what is away from God to what is in God, of what is dead: sarx, to what is alive: pneuma. 1. Mass. In this context, the Mass, as the supreme Passover ritual, becomes for the Church and the religious community the supreme moment of covenant communion with the Father and with one another. The place of meet-ing with God is the place of.assembly and formation of the people of God. The people of God were formed to the Qehal Yahweh by communication with God himself. The community entered a covenant with God, and the effec- tive token of this covenant was the paschal meal. This reaches its fulfillment in the Eucharist where we become one people of God by sitting at table with God. For the community, the Mass is not just one of the de-votional exercises of the day, nor merely one of the "means" used by a group 0f3ndividuals for accumulating personal merits. It is first of all a gathering, an assembly of Christians, those who are of Christ. Secondly, it is not an hour of community meditation, but an hour of com-munity action, an event, a celebration. The act of cele-bration is important, for the event is Christ's event (here we have the true meaning of ex opere operato), and the community enters into the mystery of Christ by their ritual transposition of the action of Christ. The event is the Resurrection Passover of Christ which He Himself rit-ually transposed in the sacramental moment of the Last Supper and ordered to be clone in commemoration of Him. Let us examine these two interrelat'ed realities: com-munity and event. The worshiping community is not a priori, not an automatically given thing with which to work out the problem of celebrating Mass. Nor can the community be improvised haphazardly. It must be .built up by active and intelligent effort; it demand~ active con-cern and reverence for the laws of human acting. In fact, if the sacramental reality is to be accomplished, if com-munity is to be created on the supernatural level, the sacramental signs must be authentic. As St. Thomas has told us: the sacraments signify what they cause and cause only insofar as they signify,aa This highlights the necessity for catechesis: instruction, explanation, acclimatization--initiation into the reality of the community and the event. Catechesis is a psy-chological necessity because words and actions must be significant. The Bible and the ritual must be understood by the community. Cathechesis is accomplished both by systematic instruc-tion and by the actual celebration authentically done. We have already spoken of some things that can be done out-side the celebration regarding the catechesis of the Bible. A suggestion or two concerning the cathechesis of the ritual outside the celebration may slip into what fol-lows by an occasional convenient parenthesis, but what we are primarily interested in here is .the ca-thechesis that occurs within the celebration of Mass itself. No matter how much formal instruction we have about the Mass, we can come to learn the Mass only by doing the Mass. Actions must be learned from within, by doing. No matter how many books we read about how Summa Theologiae, 3, q. 62, a. 1, ad I. + + + ommunit~ Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Meh¢, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,334 to study or how to play tennis, we will never really have learned these activities until we have entered into them. Catechesis must adapt the celebration of the Mass to the psychological climate of the assembly. This, of course, must be done within the limit of the laws of the Church. We do not, for instafice, simply "adapt" our celebration into the vernacular, despite the fact that this might be an excellent cathechetical move, one to be hoped, prayed and worked for through legitimate channels. But there is much to be done within the limits of the present rubrical framework. Let us begin with the community itseff. We can talk the idea of community to people until the Parousia, and it will not create community. A Christian community has to be built up by the celebration of Mass itself. The daily conventual Mass is a summons to enter deeply into com-munity. The community must experience community. Community is indeed where community happens. In the primitive Church there were at first no Catholic schools to teach the idea of community. Community was built up through worship, a worship that took into account the concrete conditions of the lives of the faithful. One of these basic concrete conditions is the bodiliness of men. Body is intrinsic to human personality. Man not only has a body, but also is a body. As we have already seen, man is a spirit incarnate in a body which is its epiphany, its revelation, its sign. And to come to the point here, it is through his body that man is part of the community of the race of Adam 'and through his body that he enters into conscious contact with the community. It is the role of good catechesis to create a sensible at-mosphere of community. It is especially when brethren gather around the altar that they ought to get that ecce quara bonum feeling. What can be done toward this? First of all, there have to be people there. And they ought to be there for the Mass. If I sit down to eat a meal with someone and he insists on reading the paper, I do not feel that he is really with me. Likewise, if the man next to me at Mass is "getting his meditation in" or "getting through his Office," the sense of community i~ being broken down. This does not mean that everyone at Mass has to be doing the same thing, for there are many liturgies or works to be done at the one great liturgy: the celebrant, the choir, the schola, the altar ministers, the organist, the choir director--all have their own work to contribute to th~ whole. But there must be that sense of the whole to which all are contributing. All present must feel that "we came here to do the Mass." The importance of this, I think, is felt instinctively even by those who close themselves up in a meditation book at Mass: they stand, sit, and kneel with the community. This at least is better than nothing, but it is for from the ideal. Akin to this is the practice of having "a Mass going on" in church when the community has come there to do something else. One picks up the habit of not becoming distracted by the Mass. Not only does this dull ofie's abil-ity to participate at other times when he is supposed to, but such a psychologically unsound practice of not doing what you are doing, on the basic religious level, has a disintegrating effect on the total personality and shows up in other activities. The desire to "get in an extra Mass" may proceed from sincere devotion, but it some-what misses the point. Whenever the Mass is used as a background or as something that is secondary, its signifi-cance (which is of prime importance in the sacramental realm) is greatly lessened (I do not say completely ab-sent); this lessening of significance breaks down the au-then. ticity of the ritual, hence its effectiveness. But in the Mass-and-something-else situation, it is not only the Mass that suffers. When two community exercises which de-mand full attention are combined, neither is able to have any depth. The sense of community at Mass is also built up by the alertness and freshness of the presence of the participants. This means that those who plan to attend Mass in the morning ought io feel it their responsibility to get enough sleep the night before to enable them to be attentive to one another and to the sacred actions. It also means that Mass should not be scheduled to be done after a marathon of spiritual exercises has just about exhausted the normal capabilities of a man to do the intensive work which good praying demands. Another important contribution to the sense of com-munity is the very structure of the church building. People at Mass ought to be able to see the altar and to see each other. They must be able to feel close to one another and not to feel oppressed by one another. Their place in church ought to be related to their role at the Mass. They ought to be able to feel together in the pres-ence of God. These problems have to be worked out on the architectural level by those competent in the field. The furnishings of a church must be such as not to distract from the main purpose of the building. The com-munity ought not to be pulled in all directions by a penny arcade of devotional concession stands. This does not mean elimination of statues from the church, but it does mean an integration of all furnishings into the main-stream of attention. This must be done by the planning of skillful designers, not by a mere process of accumula-tion. ÷ ÷ ommunlty Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 335 4. ÷ 4. Aloy~ius Mehr, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 336 The celebrant, too, has his role to play in creating a sense of community. He must realize his role as the leader of the community, as one who acts in their name, and must by his very actions sweep up the community .into participation with him. Hemust understandthat not all parts of thd Mass are equally important, and he must learn how to emphasize the important parts with the proper gestures and tone of voice, and not to monopolize the attention of the community when what he is doing is not the main thing going on, especially when the choir is singing. His gestures must be authentic. When he greets the people, there should be contact, and he should wait for their response. When he proclaims the Word of God, he should do so loudly, clearly, and expressively. During the great presidential, prayer, the anaphora, from the pre-face to the doxology, he should invite the silent attention of the community to what he is doing by his own sense of presence, by his poise and serenity. His whole bodily attitude must be expressive of praise and thanksgiving, His priestly vestments ought to mark him as a man of dis-tinction. In short, he must look and sound like a leader, and to do this he has to feel like one. He is not to be esoteric or insert idiosyncracies into the celebration, yet his action must be personal action flowing expressively from his total personality which on the deepest level is priestly. Finally, the two .very important factors in building up the sense of community are music and movement. People experience real togetherness by mutual singing and mu-tual movement. Every conventual Mass should be a com-munity sing. But again this does not mean that everyone has to sing everything. Some of the prescribed chants are too difficult to be enjoyable for those who are not trained to sing them. The obvious answer is to let the trained schola sing those parts, while the rest of the community listens attentively--at that moment their liturgy is med-itative listening together. Beyond this, there is need for the composition of good music which is singable by the real communities that actuall~ exist. °The ability to sing must be built up, but we have to start where people are and help them experience their own way into better things. The most familiar mutual movements at Mass are the changes of posture: standing, sitting, kneeling, and bow-ing. These movements ought to be expressive and forma-tive of community. This means that all should rise, bow, and so forth, together because community actions are not fully authentic unless every member makes his contribn-tion to the communal movement. These movements, as well as all the ceremonies during any liturgical function, should be expressive of two things: first, the gravity of what is being done, and secondly, the anirna una et cor unum of the community. Beyond the familiar change~ of posture, there are three great movements of the .people of God at Mass--the En-trance Procession, the Offertory Procession, and the Com-munion Procession~during which the community is sing-ing together. There are practical difficulties in restoring the movement features of the first two processions which have been reduced to the singing of the Introit and Of-fertory Antiphons. The difficulties are not insurmount-able, but they are more formidable than the difficulty it would entail to reintroduce the singing feature of the Commun, ion Procession. There are few experiences of community which can match walking in a group of your confreres in joyful song on the way to and fron~ the table of the Lord where you share the .one Bread. Let Us now make a few observations about the cat-echesis of the Mass as an event. The Mass is not an ordi-nary dialogue, nor an ordinary meal. It is a festive speak-ing of God and a festive eating with God. It involves a longing for happiness and salvation, for every feast" has the atmosphere of expectation and liberation from rou-tine. This is the eschatological dimension of the Mass. The early Christian found it easier to feel the festivity of the Mass because he found it easier to see the Mass as a cel-ebration of the coming of the risen Lord, a pledge of His final coming. For the early Christian Christ was present in the Church, especially in the actual liturgical assembly gathered together in His name: as the community cam~ together, Christ came among them. When those who love come together the tone is one of festivity. The Mass must, then, become a real celebration, as its interpenetrating rhythm of dialogue and meal indicate it is meant to be. At a celebration people talk and sing and move around. There is real, free communication. Mass is a dialogue between God and His people through the mediatorship of the priest. The priest talks to God in the name of the people and to the people in the name of God. When people really come together in a festival setting to talk with one another, they bring their interests, their work, their experiences, and their whole personality which transcends these experiences. Here one can see the role that community recreation and community meals can play as a catechesis of the proper celebration of Mass. It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community. Play is sacred. When the Bible says the people rose up ÷ ÷ + Community Exercises VOLUME 21o 1962 337 ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 338 to play while Moses was conversing with God on Mount Sinai, it speaks condemningly of the event, including its sexual misbehavior, precisely because it was an act of false worship (Ex 32:1-6). Later in Israelite history we know that David leapt and danced before the Ark of the Covenant (2 S 6:14). Play is an expression of joy and freedom--like the Sabbath day of rest. The idea of worship and the free-dom from the drudgery of work belong together. The need to break routine is rooted in man's desire for the freedom of salvation. Play is free dialogue, whether it be in the form of relaxed conversation, or a contest in which make-believe competition is manufactured, or the sharing of some unroutinized activity just "for the fun of it." Play keeps a man from b~ecoming a slave to his work; it keeps him from confining himself to the world of I-It. We take a game seriously to a point. We must take it that far, for playing is literally "making fun" of work. The religious significance of this is deep. One can take his life's work seriously only to a point; from there he must "make fun" of it in the sight of God and man as David made fun before the Ark and the people. Other-wise he will become proud and self-sufficient. The world of I-It is not to be despised, but it must lead up to the world of I-Thou, of dialogue between man and man and between man and God. Community recreation ought to be fun, but it must never be dissipation or aesthetically squalid, or the whole meaning of it is destroyed. It is the bringing of the real necessity of one's work to the level of free personal dialogue with God and man. A person-alized celebration of community recreation is a great help to a personalized celebration of Mass. The festivities of" the Mass reach their climax in the meal celebration. Food and drink are an essential part of a celebration. The Mass is a holy eating together, a sacred banquet in which we are filled with the bread of life and drink of the cup of gladness. The symbolism of wine especially provides the atmosphere of festivity. The feeling tone of the Mass is that of a celebration of people who are spiritually well fed and well drunk, who feel the spiritual fullness from the rich bread and the spiritual freedom from the intoxicating wine. Here we might note that the regular community meals can be a real catechesis of the Mass, since they are in fact a sacramental extension of the meal aspect of the Mass through the ritual prayers surrounding them. Human eating is of its nature a sacred and communal act. It is not a mere refueling for another round of work. God is present at every meal in his gifts of food and drink and in the fellowship around the table. The prayers before and after meals set the tone of the meal. They are mos~tly i, excerpts from the Psalms, breathing the spirit of the anawim, the spirit of joy, thanksgiving, appreciation, de-pendence on God, praise, awareness of God's presence, simplicity. The meals themselves should reflect all this. The food should be simple fare, b,ut good. It ought, t.o be eaten in an atmosphere of calm enjoyment, not of frantic dumping from platter to plate to palate. There ought to be a real spirit of fellowship at the table. But besides fellowship at table, we should also be aware of how community meals tie in with the Mass. Father Godfrey Van Lit, O.S.C., describes the intimate relation-ship between the refectory and the ~ chapel, community meals and the Mass.4. The Christian dining room table is a symbol of the Eucharistic table, the altar, and hence the refectory used to be decorated with a large, artistic painting of the Last Supper. As we have silence of place in the chapel, so we also observe silence of place in the refectory, And as in the community Mass the leader pro-claims to us the Good News, so also during our commu-nity meals a lector acquaints us with the consequences of the Gospel narrative. Both at Mass and at table, we are reminded that "not by bread alone does man live, but by every word that comes forth from. the mouth of God" (Mr 4:4). Both the Mass and the community meals ought to par-take of the spirit of the Passover and Chaburah meals of the Old Testament. The pervading tone here is that of a family meal. The community superior presides in the place of honor at the table as the father of the family who provides the good gifts. In so doing he is the epiphany of our heavenly Father who provides us with all good things, and the assurance of His presence among us. "He who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). The hebclomadarius who leads the community both at Mass and at the meal prayers must be seen as the delegate of the father of the community, just as every priest stands at the altar as the delegate of the bishop. So simple a thing as the custom of not starting the prayers until the superior "knocks of[" in chapel or rings the bell in the refectory helps to keep this family awareness. At the com-munity table one ought not to feel that he is just one nameless stop along the long line of the gravy train, but that he is among the little group of his brothers with whom he is at home. We are one "b~cause the bread is one" (1 Cor 10:17). The event aspect of the Mass also demands that the ritual transposition of the sacramental moment should be ~ Lucerna Splendens super Candelabrum Sanctum, Id Est, Solida ac Dilucida Explanatio Constitutionum Sairi ac Canoni¢i Ordinis Fratium Sanctae Crucis (Coloniae Agrippinae: apud Antonii Boet-zeri Heredes, 1632), pp. 45-58; 87. ÷ ÷ ÷ ECxo~mrmcisuensity VOLUME 21, transparent; the celebration must be a revelation of the event itself. The main event is the Easter Passover, but there are other sacramental moments in sacred history which unfold in the course of the Church year as incip-ient or concluding stages of the Passover, from the In-carnation to the Mission of the Spirit. The sacramental moments are themselves revelations, openings into the Passover mystery, which pervades the whole Church in her sacramental ritual. A final note on the Mass concerns the apostolate. Cult is formative of missionaries. Worship is the school of the very Christian experience which the apostle seeks to com-municate to others. Here we must remember that there is no. effective activity without sanctity; there is no sanc-tity which does not radiate in the Church; there is no grace which does not come from the Head, and there is none which does not flow from the member back over the entire Body.~ + + lloysim Mehr, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 34O A religious who neglects his personal sanctity in order to intensify his activity, paralyzes it. The gift of the Spirit is the sacramental basis for com-munity in work. When a man works to bring forth the fruits of the earth as a Christian, he brings these temporal things into the sphere of the Spirit by doing the very best job he can to make his farming or his teaching, and so forth, as perfect as possible within the total context of human life, of community. He is working with the crea-tive force of the Spirit who hovered over the waters and brought order, harmony, and completion out of chao:; and who is now at work in the community. He brings; creation into his Passover experience. He is using the totality of his mind and energies and spirit, which totality exists only within the community, 'to bring creatures to perfection, to fill up the glory ofGod which will come in its fullness at the Parousia. 2. Penance. We are not accustomed to thinking of the sacrament of penance in terms of the community, and in this we have missed much of its meaning. The weekly confession of devotion can easily become for religious a routinized ticking off of peccadillos which one "gets rid' of" by inserting his penitential coins in the laundromat at the back of Church. The sacrament of penance is a re-penetration of our ex-istence into Christ's healing death and Resurrection. Re-penetration implies that something preceded. Through baptism man is ontologically structured into the commu-nity of the holy--holy persons and holy things which they share. Sin 'is something abnormal for man in Christ Jesus '~Jules Lebreton, S.J., The Spiritual Teaching o! the New Testament (Westminster: Newman, 1960), p. 375. (Rom 6:2). By sin man withdraws from the Body of Christ and sides with the world. The sacrament of penance is reconciliation with the Church. It is the Church that listens to his confession, prays for him, and gives him absolution. Here we see the Body of Christ, wounded by'sih, festoring itself t~0 health. For us, a return to God is always, first of all, a return to the Church. Forgiveness is not so much something which the Church brings us, but rather a belonging to the Church outside of which there is no salvation. The importance of the local Church community must be emphasized here. When a sinner is forgiven, he is for-given through the forgiveness of the local community. This was more evident in the earlier forms of the sacra-ment of penance when the sinner was received publicly back into the assembly. He was assured of God's forgive-ness by the concrete forgiving spirit manifested to' him by the community. The power to absolve is vested in those with hierarchical authority, but they absolve in the name of the community of the faithful; hence the?e is a more fruitful and creative spiritual power at work in the con-fessional of a community'where there is a strong spiri't of mutual forbearancb and forgiveness, where the '~'as we forgive those who trespass against us" is prayed with awareness and sincerity, where the offensive person is ac-cepted in patience, understanding, and ultimate trust in what in him lies beyond his offences: his Christian per-sonality. The sacrament of penance can also be made more fruit-ful if the sacramentals of penance in the community life are appreciated. Two important ones. come to mind: Compline confession of sins and the chapter of faults. Let it be remembered that by the institution of the Church these rites are sacramentals, and if approached in a spirit of contrition they accomplish forgiveness of sin. The Compline confession of sin is the best catechesis for the sacrament of penance for it clearly embodies .its essential elements: contrition, confession of sin in the community and to the community, including the whole community of saints in heaven as well as those present; absolution is given by the presiding priest; and everybody prays together for the effectiveness of the forgiveness. The chapter of faults is also well constructed to pro-mote the communal atmosphere of penance, but it needs to be approached in a genuine spirit of sorrow. The pub-lic confession of our faults in the presence of the com-munity helps to make us realize that by our transgres-sions, by our indifference, lack of interest, fulfillment of purely personal inclinations, and non-participation in the community as such, we cut ourselves off, in fact we deny, the ontological status or nature of our very calling. ÷ ÷ ÷ F~oxmermcisuens ity 4. .4. Aloysius Mehr, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Worse yet, we hold back the community, we retard its growth. This seems to be the point of the chapter of faults: we confess that we have not been completely faith-ful to the ideals to which we vowed creative fidelity. 3. Holy Orders. In clerical religious communities, the whole idea of community life is intimately bound up in the sacrament of holy orders. Some observations on the place of the priesthood in the Church are necessary to clear the ground. It has often been said recently that the Church is not the clergy, despite the impression that has long been given to the contrary. The community is the first inten-tion. The priesthood exists for and in and fromthe com-munity through the apostolic succession. The priesthood is a charism, a mode of being in the Church, for the com-munity, not for itself. It expresses and makes possible and matures the general priesthood of the faithful in its three-fold dimension of worship, kingship, and prophethood. These are the Messianic goods, and they have been placed within the community in the gift of the Holy Spirit. In this context the Church itself is the Ur-Sat~rament con-taining the fullness of the Spirit, which is worked out through many diverse gifts. The priesthood is a charism for the building up of the Church (Eph 4:11-14). Ordination is the,gift of the Holy Spirit by the laying on of hands in the Church for the community. The priest is filled personally by the Holy Spirit to be his minister. No man takes the office to him-self-- or for himself. The fullness of the priesthood is only in the bishop. He is the sign of the full presence of Christ on earth, the organ of unity within the local Church community. He is one with Christ and one with his people. His faith is the norm for the faith of his flock. St. Cyprian defines the . Church as the people united to its priest, the flock stick-ing with its shepherd. The 'bishop is the nucleus of the community because he is the link with Christ through the imposition of hands through which the continuum of the soma tou Christou is maintained. The presbyterate is only a share in the bishop's priest-hood, a subsidiary priesthood under the bishop. As the ordination rite explicitly states, the presbyter is a "sec-ond- rate" priest: secundi meriti. In this light, every priest is a diocesan priest, and, exempt or not, when he works as a priest in a diocese, he works there as the helper of the bishop. By his ordination he is ontologically struc-tured for this work. He is called from the depths of his being to be a helper to the bishop of the diocese in which he lives. Here one can see what a deordination it is for religious priests not to be on good terms with the local ordinary. These good relations should also exist with the rest of the local clergy since the presbyterate is not merely an in-dividualistic but a collegiate institution. The architecture of early churches and the episcopal liturgy indicate this by placing the corona presbyterorum on the bema round the bishop. We still put the clergy together in the sanc-tuary. When a presbyter is ordained he joins the ordo foresbyterovum. This is eloquently obvious in the ordina-tion rite when the "college of presbyters" encircles the ordinands and joins the bishop in the imposition of hands. Priestly fellowship is rooted in the sacramental re-ality, and this sacramental reality is also what makes com-munity life a natural thing for priests. The unity in an order of canons draws its essential vitality from the sacra-ment of holy orders. In this context, the naturally prominent position of the Divine Office and liturgical exercises in many of the cler-ica. I religious communities becomes evident. The Divine Office is, as defined by Pope Pius XII, ~he perennial prayer of the Church, offered to God in the name and on behalf of all Christians, by those who have been deputed for this. It is the hymn of the Divine Word who has united to Him-self the entire human race, and the hymn which He sings is the hymn of praise which is sung in heaven continu-ously. St. Augustine is correct in saying that in the Divine Office "Christ prays for us. as our Priest; he prays in us as our Head; we pray to him as our God . We recognize Our voice in him and his voice in us.''4~ It is the Church praying. But we should go one step further. When a community of canons regular is called into existence by the Holy Spirit and officially approved by the Church, it is by its very nature entrusted with the solemn and communal celebration of the sacred liturgy, especially the Divine Office and the conventual Mass. If any religious body has the right to say that the liturgical life is its ideal, it is the canons regular.47 They above all should lead the way in the liturgical revival of Christian life. The proper chanting of the Divine Office in common is formative of community. But, in order to be formative of community, it presupposes first of all that the community understands the dignity of the Church's prayer, secondly, that the choir members are able to read the text of the prayer intelligently, and, finally, that they adopt as their own the sentiments expressed in these prayers. ,e Mediator Dei, nn. 142-144. ,TDom Germain Morin, O.S.B., The Ideal o] the Monastic Life Found in the Apostolic Age (Westminster: Newman, 1950), p. 105: "If any Order has the right to boast of this it is the Canons Regular, rather than ourselves." See also the article "Canons Regular and the Breviary" by Roger Capel, Orate Frates, v. 23 (1948-49), pp. 246-251. ÷ ÷ + ECxoemrdmsuesnity VOLUME 21. 1962 343 ÷ ÷ ÷ Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS It is not merely a question of recitatk;n or of singing which, however perfect according to the norms of music and sacred rites, onl)t reaches the ear, but it is especially a question of the ascent ot the mind and heart to God' so that, united with Christ, we may completely dedicate ourselves and all our ac-tions to him.'s Whenever the Divine Office is chanted "worthily, with attention and devotion," it is prayer in the fullest sense of the term, and every genuine prayer cements together the members of a community. "Our deepest contacts with one another can be made only through God.''49 It is only in the depths of prayer that, in the fullest sense of the term, deep calls out to deep, and the soul gives itself to God. In this sense, every genuine prayer is a renewal of religious profession, the leaving of all things and following He-who- is. If the religious community is to blossom forth into a true community of worship and love, it must be able, at all times, to call upon this interior gift to God.5° The central portion of the Divine Office is the Psalter: the Word of God. The best way for men to pray together is to speak with God in God's own words, for the Word of God is formative and expressive of the community. The common chanting of the Psalter is, by and large, a meditar tive re-experiencing together of the great events of sacred history--again a community-forming factor.5x The Psalter is redolent with man's proper responses to God and his works: the spirit of the anawira, the poor in spirit, God's lowly ones through whom sacred history is accomplished. By a continual singing of these prayers day after day for many .years, these attitudes of heart sink into those who give themselves to this prayer with their minds and hearts and bodies. Through the ritual action, the attitudes and events are effectively experienced by the total personality in community; by all the rules of psychology such prayer is extremely capable of transforming one's life as an aLt-thentic individual in the community. A final note on the Divine Office concerns the non-choir members and every other member of the community who has been assigned work incompatible with regular attend-ance at choir. Here it is important to remember that the choir is a community obligation'. In a living community there are many members "just as in one body we have many members, yet all the members have not the same function" (Rom 12:4). Some are sent out as missionaries, others do the cooking, others are engaged in social work--- ~s Mediator Dei, n. 145. ~9 R. W. Gleason, S.J., To Live is Christ (New York: Sheed anti Ward, 1961), p. 11. ~ T. de Ruiter, O.F.M., Her Mysterie van de Kloostergemeenschap (Mechelen: St. Franciskusdrukkerij, 1958), p. 131. ~ Mediator Dei, n. 148. each according to the grace that has been given to him (Rom 12:6). And then there are also those who are not excused and who have the responsibility to be in choir. In each case it is the community at work or at prayer. Whether we are in the choir or legitimately excused, we are all working together in the name of the omhaunity, fulfilling our role in the completion of the cosmic task. 4. Extreme Unction. The communal dimension of ex-treme unction must be viewed from the Christian stand-point on death. The creation of Adam in flesh is the man-ifestation of the mystery of contingency which attends the existence of all things outside of God. Only God is in Himself and by Himself. All other beings tend to fuller being, which implies nonbeing. Death is the natural con-sequence of man's fleshy nature. Since the human race is a community in flesh it is also a community in death. Adam, however, did not accept his contingency. He failed to project beyond the dissolution of flesh to fuller life. He revolted against being the creature who dies, and death became a punishment for this sin. since the human race is a community in sin, it is a community in the pun-ishment of death (Rom 5:12). Christ, the New Adam, humbled himself: took on con-tingency. He submitted, as the suffering Servant, to be the creature who dies, and death became a redemption, a passage into the eternal life for which Adam revolted in vain (Rom 5:15-19; 1 Cot 15:21). Since the Church is a community in redemption, it is a community in triumph over death. Through the Church's sacraments of death and disso-lution, Viaticum and extreme unction, all human suffer-ing. and death is taken into the redemptive sufferings of Christ. The falling apart involved in suffering and death becomes the creative mustering of forces for the upward thrust to a higher level of life. The death of the Christian is his final experience of the Passover of Christ. Without Christ, death is complete loneliness. One leaves the community of his loved ones to go alone into nothing-ness. Christian death conquers this ultimate loneliness. The highpoint of the ritual for the dying is the admin-istration of Holy Viaticum. The Christian does not go alone into death: the Lord comes to take his faithful serv-ant up into his triumphant Passover. The Lord is able to come in Viaticum because the community has celebrated the Eucharistic Passover. Much of the loneliness of death comes from the effect of sin, by which man cuts himself off from the community. In the prayers and anointing for sickness unto death, the healing Lord approaches in the person of the priest to cure the wounds of severance from the community, to re-store the peace of mind that can come only from c6mplete + + + Community Exercises VOLUME 21, 1962 345 4. 4. 4. Aloysius Mehr, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 346 reconciliation with the Church. Again, the priest is acting in the name of the community. The death of a Christian is a deep experience for the community in which it occurs. When at all possible, the religious community should be present at the administra-tion of the last sacraments to the dying members of the community, and they should pa.rticipate in the expressive prayers of the ritual. Such a death is a witness to the reality of the triumph of Christ, a real martyrdom. The joyful and peaceful suffering and death of one with whom we live in intimacy is a striking pledge of the reality of Christ's Resurrection and the certainty of the Parousia. Here we have the reason for a quite joyful celebration of a funeral. What is said of death extends also to the sufferings of illness, disease, and serious injury, as well as of old age. Here there is the same factor of dissolution and contin-gency which is at work in death. Illness and death are times of crisis that naturally draw the community together to struggle against the loneliness which has set into our flesh as a result of sin. The serious sufferings of a member of the community are a community experience and ought to be entered into by the community. This involves a patient care and con-cern for the aged and the sick and keeping the community informed of their condition. It means visiting the sick. It would also be good to make use of the magnificent ritual for the visitation of the sick: let the community gather occasionally in the sick room to join in these moving and consoling prayers led by the superior. In the communal carrying out of this sacramental, the healing Lord will be present, and the patient endurance of suffering in the true Christian spirit will again be a witness to the community of the reality of Christ's presence and the certainty of his coming. Epilogue: The Dynamism of the Sacramental Com-munity There is an inherent tension in the very being of a sac-ramental dispensation or system: the tension, inherent in the nature of a sign, toward the fullness of that reality which is less than fully present in the sign. This underlies the call, covenant, and passover aspect of the sacraments and gives them their "obligatory" dimension, their ex-istential imperative. In Christian life this tension is the cosmic covenant: the Christian community's responsibil-ity for the entire cosmos which needs redemption and building up. This means authentic community work. Religious life is Christian response lived to the full in the working out of salvation history. It is charged with the building up of the Church unto the Pleroma, with the hastening of the day of the coming of the Lord (Ac 3:20; 2 Pt 3:11-12

Issue 21.5 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; JOHN XXIII M editatiOnS on the Rosary [On September 29, 1961, Pope John XXIII. issued the apos-tolic epistle, II religioso convegno, in which he exhorted the faithful.to recite the Rosary for the intention of peace among nations,Later on April 28, 1962, the Holy Father issued another apostolic epistle, Oecumenicum Conciliurn, urging the saying of the Rosary for the success of Vatican Council II. To assis~ the faithful in a fruitful saying of the Rosary, His Holiness com-posed a set of meditations on each mystery of'the Rosary: These are here translated from the original Italian text as given in Discorsi, Messaggi, Colloqui del Santo Padre Giovanni XXIII, v. 3 (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1962), pages 762- 72.] THE JOYFUL MYSTERIES The Annunciation This is the first luminous point of contact between heaven and earth; ,.it is the first of the greatest events in the history of the ages. In this mystery the Son of God, the Word of the Father through whom "all things were made". (Jn 1:3) in this order of creation, takes on a human nature; He becomes man in order that He might be the Redeemer and the Savior of man andof all humanity. Mary Immaculate, most beautiful and most fragrant flower of all creation, by her "Behold the handmaid of the Lord" (Lk 2:38) given in reply to the words of the angel, accepts the honor of divine motherhood; and at that instant it is fulfilled in her. We who were once born with our father Adam as adopted ~hildren of God and who then fell from this grace are now today brothers, adopted sons of the Father, because we have. been re-stored to our adoption by the redemption which begins with this event. At the foot of the cross we shall be sons of Mary together with Christ conceived by her at this moment. From this event on she will be the Mother of God and our Mother. + + + T~e Rosary VOLUME 21, 1962 397 0 the sublimity and the tenderness of this first mys-teryl As we reflect on this scene, our principal and constant duty is to thank the Lord because He has deigned to come to save us and because He has become man and our human brother. He is associated with us in the state of sonhood to the woman who at the foot of the cross will make us adopted sons. Since We are adopted sons of His heavenly Father, Fie has willed that we should also be children of the same Mother. In the contemplation of this first scene, besides the habitual thought of gratitude, our prayer should be di-rected towards a real and sincere effort to become hum-ble, pure, and actively charitable, for all these are virtues of which the Blessed Virgin gives us a shining example. The Visitation JOHN XXIH REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 What graciousness and sweetness is to be found in this three-month visit of Mary with her beloved cousinl Both women bear a motherhood that will soon come to term. The motherhood of the Virgin Mary is the most sacred imaginable. A sweet harmony is to be found in the can-ticles that the two interchange with each other: on the one hand, "Blessed art thou amongst women" (Lk 1:42), and on the other, "The Lord has regarded the lowliness of his handmaid; all generations shall call me blessed" (Lk 1:48). The event .that happens here at Ain-Karim on the hill-top of 'Epron showers a light, both human and heavenly, on the bonds that unite Christian' families which have been formed by the ancient school of the holy Rosary: the Rosary recited every evening in the intimate circle of the home; the Rosary recited not by one or a hundred or a thousand families, but by all families; the Rosary recited in all places of the earth where man "suffers, struggles, and prays" (A. Manzoni, La Pentecoste, v. 6); the Rosary re-cited by those called by inspiration from on high to the priesthood, or to missionary work, or to a longed-for apostolate; the Rosary recited by all those who are called by motives, legitimate as well as pressing, to labor, to business, to military service, to study, to teaching, to what-ever occupation. During the saying of the Hail Marys of-this mystery, it is good to join ourselves to the many persons united to. us by blood, by family, and by every bond that sanctifies and therefore strengthens the feeling of love which binds us to those we particularly love: parents and children, broth-ers and relatives, fellow countrymen, fellow citizens~ All this should be done for the purpose of sustaining, increas-ing, and illuminating the presence of that universal char- ity the exercise of which is the profoundest and highest joy of this life. The Birth oI Our Lord At the time appointed by the laws of the human nature He has assumed, the Word of God madff ~th °comes forth from the holy tabernacle of the immaculate womb of Mary. His first appearance in the world is in a man-ger where animals feed and where everything is. silence, poverty, simplicity, innocence. The voices of angels re-sound in the heavens as they announce the peace which the new-born Infant brings to the world. The first wor-shipers are Mary His Mother and Joseph His foster Father; afterwards humble shepherds come from the hill-side, invited by angelic voices. Later will come.a caravan of nobler rank led by a star; they will offer precious gifts pregnant with hidden meaning: In this night of Bethle-hem everything speaks in a language understandable by all. In this mystery, there should be no one who does not bend his knee in adoration before this crib, no one who does not gaze at the eyes of the divine Infant as they look into the distance as though viewing all the peoples of the earth passing one after another before His presence. He recognizes them all, knows them all, and smilingly greets them all: Jews, Romans, Greeks, ,Chinese, Indians, the peoples of Africa, the peoples of every region of the universe, of every epoch of history, it makes no difference if the regions be far distant, solitary, remote, secret, and unexplored; nor does it matter whether the epoch is past, present, or future. During the praying of this decade the Holy Father likes to recommend to the new-born Jesus the uncount-able number of babies of all the peoples of the earth who in the preceding twenty-four hours have come to the light of day everywhere on the face of the earth. All of them, whether they will be baptized or not, belong by right to Him, to this Babe born in Bethlehem. They are His brothers, called to a lordship .that is the,highest and gentlest in the heart of man and in the history of the world. It is a lordship that alone is worthy of God and of men, a lordship of light and of peace; it is the "kingdom" we pray for in the Our Father. The Presentation in the Temple Christ, supported by the arms of His mother, is offered to the priest; at the same instant He holds out His own armsin front of Him: it is the meeting of the two Testa-ments. There is an advance here towards "the light and revelation of the Gentiles" (Lk 2:32), to Him who is the splendor of the Chosen People, the Son of Mary, Present ÷ The Rosary VOLUME 21, 1962 399 ÷ ÷ ÷ JOHN XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 400 also is Joseph who equally shares in the presentation rites prescribed by the Law. In a different but analogous way this episode is con-tinued and perpetuated in the Church; while we recite this decade how good it is to contemplate the field grow-ing to harvest: "Lift up your eyes to the fields already white with the harvest" (Jn 4.:35). This harvest consists of the joyful hopes of the priesthood and of co-workers of the priesthood; there are many of these in the kihgdom of God and yet never enough, They are the youths in semi-naries, in religious houses, in missionary institutes; and because all Christians are called to be apostles, they are also in Catholic universities; they are all those other hopes of the future apostolate inseparable from the laity. It is an apostolate which grows in spite of difficulties and of opposition; it enters even .into nations suffering from per-secution; it offers and will never cease to offer a spectacle so consoling that it calls forth words of joyful admira-tion. "The light and revelation of the Gentiles".(Lk 2:32); the glory of the Chosen People. The Finding in the Temple Christ is now twelve years old. Mary and Joseph ac-company Him to Jerusalem for the prescribed worship. Unexpectedly He disappears, unseen by their vigilant and loving eyes. Their anguish is great and for three days they search for Him in vain. Sorrow is succeeded by joy when they find Him in the area around the Temple, hold-ing discussions with the doctors of the Law. How signifi-cant and detailed are the words With which St. Luke de-scribes the scene: "They find him in the midst of the doctors, listening to them and questioning them" (Lk 2:46). At that time a meeting such as this had a deep sig-nificance: knowledge~ wisdom, guidance of practical life in the light of the .Old.Testament. Such at every moment of time is the task of human in-telligence: to collect the thought of the ages, to transmit sound teaching, firmly, and humbly to lift the gaze of scientific investigation to the future, for we all die one after the other and we go to God; humanity journeys to-wards the future. Both on the level of supernatural and natural knowl-edge, Christ is never absent; He is always found there at His place: "One only is your mfister, Chrisi" (Mt 23:10). This fifth decade, the last of the joyful mysteries, should be considered a specially beneficial invocation for all those called by God through the gifts of nature, the cir-cumstances of life, the wishes of superiors, to the service of truth. Whether they are engaged in research or in teaching, whether they diffuse knowledge long attained!. or new techniques, whether they write books or are con-cerned with audiovisual projects; all of them are invited to imitate Jesus. They are the intellectuals, professional men, journalists. All of these, especially journalists since they are characterized by the daily duty of honoring truth, should communicate the truth with religious fidelity, with the utmost prudence, and without fantastic distortion or falsification. Let us pray for all of these, whether they be priests or lay persons; let us pray that they be able to listen, to the truth--and for this ther~ is needed great purity of heart. Let them learn to understand the truth---and for this great humility of mind is required. Let them be able to defend the truth--and for this is required that which was the strength of Christ and of the saints, obedience. Only obedience secures peace and.victory. THE SORROWFUL MYSTERIES The Agony in the Garden The mind returns again and again to thescene of the Savior in the place and hour of His supreme abandon: "And his sweat became as drops of blood running down upon the ground" (Lk 22:44). It is an interior p~iin of the soul, the bitterness of an extreme loneliness, the fail-ing of an exhausted body. It is an agony ,that could be caused only by the Passion which.Jesus now sees not as distant or even as near, but as already present. The scene of Gethsemani gives us the strength and the courage to strain, our wills to accept even great suffering when that suffering is willed or permitted by God: "Not my will but thine be done" (Lk 22:42). These are words that both wound and heal; they teach us the glowing ardor that can and should be reached by the Christian who suffers together with the suffering Christ; they give us a certainty of the indescribable reward of the divine life that exists in us now through grace and will be in us later through glory. In the present mystery the particular intention that should be considered is the "solicitude for all the Churches" (2 Cor 2:28), the anxiety that troubles the mind as the wind disturbed the lake of Genesareth: "The wind was against them" (Mt 14:24). This is the object of the daily prayer of the Holy Father: the anxiety of the most fearful hours of his pastoral ministry; the anxiety of the Church which suffers with him throughout the world, while at the same time he suffers with the Church present and suffering in him; the anxiety of souls and of entire portions of the flock of Christ that are subjected to perse-cution against the freedom to believe, to think, and to live. "Who is weak, and I am not alsoweak?" (2 Cor I 1:29). + + + The Rosary VOLUME 21, 196Z 401 JOHN XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 This sharing in the sorrows of the brethren, this suffer-ing with those who suffer, this weeping with those who weep (Rom 12:15) is a merciful blessing for the entire Church. Is not this the communion of saints that each and all possess in common the Blood of Christ, the love of the saints and of the virtuous, and, alas, our sin and our in-firmity? We should continually reflect on this communion which is a union and, as Christ said, a kind of unity: "That they may be one" (Jn 17:22). The cross of our Lord not only ennobles us, it draws souls: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself" (Jn 12:32). The Scourging This mystery recalls to our minds the merciless lashing of the immaculate and holy.Body of Christ. Human na-ture is composed of body and soul. The body endures humiliating temptations, while the will in its weakness can easily be carried away. In this mystery, then, is to be found a reminder of that salutary penance which implies and involves the true well-being of man, a well-being which comprehends bodily welfare and spiritual salvation. The teaching that comes from this mystery is important for all. We are not called to a bloody martyrdom but to the constant, discipline and daily mortification of our pas-sions. This path is a true way of the cross, daily, inevitable, necessary; at times it can become heroic in its demands. By it we gradually arrive at an ever greater resemblance to Christ, at a participation in His merits, at a greater cleansing of every fault through His immaculate Blood. We never arrive at this by way of easy enthusiasm or by way of useless and ineffective extravagance. His Mother, stricken with sorrow, sees Him after His scourging; her affliction is overwhelming. How many mothers desire to see their children grow perfect as they initiate them into the discipline of a good training and of a sound life; yet instead they must mourn the disap-pearance of their hopes, saddened because so much care has led to nothing. The Hail Marys of this mystery, then, will ask of the Lord the gift of purity for the family, for society, and espe-cially for young people since they are most exposed to the seductions of the senses. They will also plead for strength of character and for loyalty in the face of all trials tO teaching already received and to resolutions previously made. The Crowning with Thorns The contemplation of this mystery is especially con-cerned with those who bear the burdensome responsibility of the direction of social life; it is the mystery of those whoi govern, who make laws, and. who judge. On the head of this King, there is a cross of thorns. So also on their .heads there will be a crown; it is a crown that undeniably shines with the glow of dignity and distinction; it is a glow that comes from an authority that comes from God and is therefore divine. Yet interwbven into this crown are things that press down, that pierce, that bring perplexity, that tempt to bitterness; it is in brief a crown of thorns and of worry; and it is this even aside from the sorrow caused by the ill will and faults of men, which is a sorrow all the more keen as one loves them and has the duty of representing to them the Father who is in heaven. Another useful application o~ the mystery would be to think of the serious responsibilities of those who have re-ceived greater talents and hence are bound to bring forth fruit in proportionate measure by means of a persevering exercise of their faculties and of their intelligence. The service of thought, the duty of those so endowed to act as a light and a guide to others, should be carried out pa-tiently,, while temptations of pride, of egoism, and of de-structive separation are avoided. The Carrying of the Cross Human life is a long and burdensome pilgrimage; it is an upward journey over the rocky ascents that are marked to be the lot of all men. In the present mystery Christ represents the human race. If each man did not pos-sess his own cross, sooner or later he would fall by the way-side, tempted by egoism or by indifference. By contemplating Christ as He climbs up Calvary, we learn--more through the heart than the mind--to em-brace and to kiss the cross, to carry it with generosity and even with joy according to the words of the Imitation of Christ: "In the cross there is salvation; in the cross there is life; in the cross there is protection from our enemies and a pouring forth of a heavenly sweetness" (Book l, Chapter 12:2). And should not our prayer extend also to Mary who in her sorrow follows Christ in a spirit of intimate participa-tion in His merits and in His sorrows? This mystery should bring before our eyes the immense scene.of those in tribulation: orphans, the aged, the sick, prisoners, the weak, refugees. For all of these let us ask for strength and the consolation that only hope can give. Let us repeat tenderly and with the hidden interior tears of the soul: "O cross, hail, our only hope" (Vesper Hymn of Passion Sunday). The Crucifixion "Life and death meet in a wondrous battle" (Sequence of the Easter Mass); life and death are the two significant The Rosary VOLUME 21, 1962 4O3 and decisive aspects of the sacrifice of Christ. From Bethle-hem's smile-~one such as is found in all the sons of men at their first appearance on this earth--to Calvary's last breath and gasp which gathers into one all our sorrows in order to sanctify them and which expiates our sins in or-der to blot them out; this is the life of Christ on earth among us. And Mary stands near the cross as she once stood near the Babe of Bethlehem. Let us pray to her, our Mother, that she may pray for us "now and at the hour of our death." In this mystery we can see outlined the mystery of those who will never acknowledge the Blood which has been poured forth for them by'the Son of God. It is the mystery especially of obstinate sinners, of the unbelieving, of those who receive and then reject the light of the gospel. Such thoughts cause prayer to break forth in one immense sigh, in one burst of grief-stricken reparation in a worldwide view of the apostolate. We beg wholeheartedly that the Precious Blood poured forth for all men may finally give to all men salvation and conversion and that the Blood of Christ may give to all a pledge and a token of life eternal. THE GLORIOUS MYSTERIES + + + JOHN XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Resurrection This is .the mystery of death confronted and defeated. The Resurrection marks the definitive triumph of Christ and it is at the same time the assurance of the triumph of the Catholic Church over adversities and persecutions past and present. "Christ, Lord of glory; Christ, Prince of na-tions; Christ, King of kings." It is good to recall that the first appearance of the risen Christ was to the women who had been close to Him during His humble life and who remained close to Him even on Calvary. In the splendor of this mystery the gaze of our faith goes out to the living souls now united with the risen Christ, the souls of those dearest to us, the souls of those who were close to us and with whom we shared the anguishes of life. In the light of the Resurrection of.Christ there rises up in our hearts the remembrance of our dead. Remembered by us and aided by the sacrifice of the crucified and risen Lord, they still share in that better life of ours which is prayer and which is Christ. It is not without reason that the Eastern liturgy con-cludes the funeral rite with an Alleluia for all the dead. Let us ask for the dead the light of an eternal resting place while at the same time our thoughts are directed to the resurrection of our own mortal remains: "I await the resurrection of the dead." To be able to await, to place one's continual trust in the promise of that of which the Resurrection of Christ is a sure pledge--this is a foretaste of heaven. The .Ascension In this scene let us contemplate the,consummation and final fulfillment of theprortiises of Christ.~It is. His' re-sponse to our .longing for paradise. His final return to the Father from whom He had descended to us in the world gives us assurance that He has prepared a place for us: "I go to prepare a place for you" (Jn 14:2). This mystery, above all others, presents itself as a light and a guide to those souls who strive to follow their proper vocations. This is the background of that spiritual ac-tivity and ardor that contin.ually burn in the hearts of priestswho are not held down and distracted by the goods of this earth but seek only to open to themselves and to others the ways that lead to sanctity and perfection. This is that level of grace to which one and all must come; priests, religious, missionaries, laypersons devoted to-God and the Church, souls that are the good odor of Christ (2 Cor.2:15). Where such are, Christ is felt to be near; and they already live in a continual union with the life of heaven. This mystery teaches and urges us not to allow ourselves to be held back by that which burdens and weighs down the soul, but to abandon ourselves to the will of the Lord who draws us upwards. The arms of Christ, .as He returns to His Father at His Ascension¯ into heaven, are extended in blessing on the Apostles and on all those who follow them in their belief in Him. In the hearts of such there is a calm and serene certainty of a final meeting with Him and with all the saved in the realm of eternal happiness. The Descent of the Holy Spirit At the Last Supper the Apostles received the promise of the Spirit; later in the Cenacle, with Christ gone but Mary present, they receive Him as the supreme gift of Christ; what else indeed could the Spirit of Christ be? And He is the Strengthener and the Vivifier of souls. The Holy Spirit continues to pour forth His grace on and in the Church day by day;.centuries and peoples belong tothe Spiri~ and to the Church. The triumphs of the Church are not al-ways apparent externally; but they are always there, full of surprises and marvels~ The Hail Marys of this mystery are directed towards a special intention in this year of fervor as we see the pilgrim Church plan and prepare an ecumenical council. The council is to be a new Pentecost Of faith, of the apostolate, and of extraordinary graces for the well-being of men and the peace of the entire world. Mary, the Mother of Christ The Rosary VOLUME 2I, ~.962 405 ÷ ÷ JOHN XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 and our own living Mother, is with the Apostles in the Cenacle at Pentecost. Let us ever remain close to her through the "Rosary during this year. Our prayers united with hers will effect once more the ancient event of Pente-cost; it will be the rise of a new day, the dawn of new ac-tivi. ty for the Church as she grows holier and more catholic in these our times. The Assumption The lovely image of Mary becomes glowing and bril-liant in this greatest of exaltations that a creature may have. How full of grace, of sweetness, and of solemnity is the dormition of Mary as the Christians of the East love " to think about it. She lies there in the quiet sleep of death; Christ stands near her, holds her to His Heart as though the soul of Mary were an infant; thus is symbolized the wonder of Mary's immediate resurrection and glorifica-tion. The Christians of the West, on the other hand, prefer to raise their eyes and their hearts to follow Mary as she is assumed body and soul into the eternal kingdoms. It is in this way that our greatest artists have represented her in her incomparable beauty. Let us too follow her in this way; let us allow ourselves to be carried away with her amid the angelic procession. On days of sorrow this scene is a source of consolation and fidelity for privileged souls--and we. can all be such if we respond to grace--whom God silently prepares for the greatest of triumphs, that of sainthood. The mystery of the Assumption makes the thought of death, including our own, familiar to us; it gives us the light of a serene abandon of ourselves, for it familiarizes and accustoms us to the thought that, as we would desire, the Lord will be near us in our death agony to gather into His hands our immortal souls. May your favor be always with us, 0 immaculate Virginl The Coronation of Mary This is the synthesis of the entire Rosary which thus ends in joy and in glory. The great theme that opened .with the Annunciation of the angel to Mary has passed like a thread of fire and light through each of the mysteries; it is the eternal plan of God for our salvation. It has been imaged in many scenes; it has been present in all the mysteries up to now; and now it ends with God in the splendor of heaven. The glory of Mary, the Mother of Christ and our Mother, shines in the splendor of the most august Trinity and is dazzlingly reflected in holy Church in all her states: triumphant in heaven, suffering in the confident expec-tation that is Purgatory, militant on earth. 0 Mary, pray with us, pray for us, as we know and feel you do. How real are the delights, how lofty the glory in the divine-human relationships of. affection, words, and life that the Rosary has given and continues to give to us. It softens our human afflictions; it is a foretaste of the peace of the other world; it is our hope fore'ternal life. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Rosary VOLUME 21, 1962 407 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Practice of the Holy See ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Mary-land. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This article gives, from January 1, 1959, the contents of replies or rescripts of the Holy See to particular re-quests and the practical points of constitutions approved by the Holy See. The rescript or approval is always that of the Sacred Congregation of Religious unless otherwise indicated. Similar articles appeared in the REVtEW ~oR RELICXOUS, I0 (1951), 22--24; 11 (1952), 12--18, 69--74, 151-- 58; 12 (1953), 252--72, 285--90; 18 (1959), 77--85, 156--68, 214--24. We have also listed under each heading the is-sues of the REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS in which the same mat-ter had been at least generally explained. Such references will be useful and sometimes even necessary because the practice of the Holy See is not fixed and invariable in sev-eral of the matters contained in the article. Choir and lay nuns. In one order of nuns, the titles now in use are choir nuns and lay nuns. The latter are therefore no longer called lay sisters in this order. In the same order, the lay nuns have a vote in the conventual chapter but not in elections. REwv.w ~-oR P~V.L~CIOUS, 15 (1956), 266-67. Change of the religious habit. Several congregations of sisters simplified the religious habit to some degree. A monastery of nuns was permitted to change the white veil of the lay sisters to black on trial for ten years and provided it was certain that the chapter of the monastery consented to the change. A federation of nuns changed the habit of its extern sisters to conform completely to that of the choir nuns. In one order of nuns, it is no longer of obligation for the habit to be of wool and the lay nuns now wear the same habit as the choir nuns. In granting a request for a change in the habit to a congregation of sisters, the Sacred Congrega-tion stated: "However, even for temporary changes of this nature, this Sacred Congregation requires that the matter be referred to each and every superior and sister. If the majority of those qualified to vote are in favor of the change . " The Holy See is approving constitutions that contain the following article: "No substantial, per-manent, or general change in the color or form of the habit may be made without the permission of the Holy See." R~vIEw FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 80-81; 13 (1954), 298. Time of giving dowry (c: 547, ~§ 1'-3). Ina general revision of the constitutions of a congregation of sisters proposed to the Holy See, the article on this point was presented in the usual wording: "The dowry must be given to the congregation before the begihning of the noviceship, or at least its payment guaranteed in a man-ner recognized as valid indvil law," The Holy See added the following sentence: "The dowry may also be given in parts." The same article in another set of approved constitutions reads: "Each aspirant is obliged to bring a dowry . The dowry may also, for just reasons, be set up in installments or after the death of the parents, provision being made in the meantime for the payments of the an-nual interest." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 3 (1944), 229-30. Length of postulancy (c. 539). The Holy See is approving articles of the following type: "The time prescribed for the postulancy is one year. For a just reason and with the advice of the council, the mother general may shorten or prolong this time, but not beyond six months in either case." Before they are admitted to the noviceship, the aspirants are to make a postulancy of ten months, which may be reduced to six months or extended to sixteen months by the mother general with the advice of her coun-cil." "Before being admitted to the noviceship, the as-pirants must spend nine months as postulants. The pro-vincial superior or the superior general, as. the case may be, may prolong this time but not beyond an additional six months; she may shorten it, but never beyond three months." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 82; 11 (1952), 151-53; 13 (1954), 301; 3 (1944), 410. Two years of noviceship in monasteries and federations of nuns. One entire federation of nuns was permitted to change its noviceship from a duration of one to two years. Two monasteries of the federation already possessed this permission. A monastery of another order was granted the same duration of the noviceship on trial for five years, and several monasteries of still another order are request-ing a noviceship of two years. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 83-84; 13 (1954), 301. Dispensation from second year of noviceship. The Holy See dispensed from the sec-ond year of noviceship in favor of a-novice who had been professed of perpetual vows in another institute. REVIEW VOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 84; 12 (1953), 260; 13 (1954), 301. Those who may admit to the profession of a novice in danger of death. The Holy See continues to approve the following article: "Even though she has not completed 4" 4" 4" Practice o] the Holy See VOLUME 21, 1962' 409 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. F. Gallen, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 the time of her noviceship, a novice in danger of death may for the consolation of her soul be admitted to pro-fession by any superior, the mistress o/novices, and their delegates. " REVIEW EOR Ri~L*GIOUS, 18 (1959), 84--85; 15 (1956), 263-64; 1 (1942), 117-22. First profession out-side novitiate house (c. 574, § 1). Two congregations of sisters secured a dispensation for five years to have the first temporary profession outside the novitiate house, a third to do the same indefinitely in the chapel of the generalate, and four others to hold the reception and pro-fession ceremonies in a nearby parish church because of inadequate space in the novitiate chapel. REVIEW FOR LIG~OUS, 18 (1959), 156; 12 (1953), 264; 15 (1956), 222--24, Temporary prolession of l~ve years. Congregations of sis-ters continue to change from three to five years of tempo-rary vows. A prolongation of a five-year profession is limited to a year (c. 574, § 2), The Sacred Congregation does not insist on any determined division of the five-year duration, for example, out of fourteen approved changes, five congregations have five annual professions, two have three annual professions and one of two years, two have a profession of two years followed by one of three years, and five have a profession of three years followed by one of two years. REVIEW FOg RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 156-57; 16 (1957), 379-80; 15 (1956), 267; 12 (1953), 263-64; 13 (1954), 302-303. Abbreviation of constitutional duration of temporary profession. One congregation that has a pre-scribed temporary profession of six years was granted a dispensation to abbreviate this time by two years for an individual religious. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 12 (1953), 262--63; 19 (1960), 337--52. Reception o[ profession (c. 572, § I, 6°). Articles of the following type are approved and inserted into constitutions by the Holy See. "That it be received by the mother general or a sister delegated by her. Regional and local superiors and their legitimate substitutes are delegated by the constitutions to receive the renewal of ~'ows and with power also to subdelegate. They possess the same authority for the reception of other professions in the default of a sister expressly delegated by the mother general." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 157--58; 16 (1957), 113; 8 (1949), 130--39. Renunciation o[ patrimony. In five dispensations for a sister of simple vows in a congregation to renounce her patrimony in [avor oI her congregation (c. 583, 1°), according to the printed and thus regular form of the rescript the dispen-sation was granted, "under the condition that the entire sum will be restored to the petitioner if for any reason whatever she leaves the congregation." This condition was not found in another dispensation in virtue of which the property was to be given to a brother and sister. RE-. VIEW fOR RELIGIOUS, 12 (1953), 257-59; 16 (1957), 311. No precedence in receiving Holy Communion. In one request for changes in the constitutions, the Holy See it-self added the following sentence: "No precedence is to be observed in approaching Holy Communion." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 9 (1950), 149; 18 (1959), 162; ~5 (1956), 25; 3 (1944), 252--67, 268~70, 428; 1'1 (1952), 213;' 12 (1953), 147--50. Feast of our Lady of Mercy. Several communities of the Sisters of Mercy have obtained from the Sacred Congregation of Rites the faculty of celebrating the feast of our Lady of Mercy, September 24, as a feast of the I class, with. a proper Mass approved on May 30, 1955 for the Sisters of Mercy of the Australian Union, and with the faculty also of using it as a votive Mass. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 163; 12 (1953), 289--90. Obligation of the choral recitation of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin by nuns. Authors commonly state that the obliga-tion of choral recitation is only under venial sin in the orders of nuns that are not obliged by their constitutions to the Divine Office but only to the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. Some add that this is the Office recited by Visitandine nuns or give the Visitandine nuns as an ex-ample of the venial obligation cited above. Cf, De Carlo, ]us Religiosorum, n. 375, 8. In a rescript of October 26, 1959, the Sacred Congregation of Religious declared that the recitation of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, prescribed by the constitutions and spiritual directory of the Order of the Visitation of Holy Mary, is an obligation imposed upon the religious under venial and not under mortal sin. Change to the Short Breviar~ from the Little Office of the Blessed Virgih. This was granted on trial for one year to a congregation of sisters by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, on May 23, 1961, and to another congregation of sisters absolutely by the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, on March 4, 1960. Articles approved on the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. The Holy See approved the following arti-cles of constitutions on this Office: "The sisters shall re-cite daily Lauds, Vespers, and Compline of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, using an approved transla-tion in the vernacular." "In formal houses, on Sundays and on the principal feasts of the Blessed Virgin, they shall recite in common the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 20 (1961), 304--306; 18 (1959), 163; 9 (1950), 156; 6 (1947), 18--24; 2 (1943), 66, 406; 11 (1952), 44; 13 (1954), 129--30, 149--52, 299--300. Frequency o[ chapter of faults. The Holy See approved a requested change in the chapter of faults from once a week to once a month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 13 (1954), 135; 7 (1948), 163--64. Indulgences. Privileged altar (cc. 916-18), A congregation of sisters obtained from the Sacred Penitentiary, Office on Indulgences, for seven 4- 4- 4. Practice o] the Holy See VOLUME 21, 1962 411 J. F. Gallen, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 years that the main altar of its motherhouse .be a privi-leged altar for the dead. For recitation of the Little OI~ice o[ the Blessed Virgin. The indulgences commonly granted are listed in the Raccolta, n. 318. A congregation of sisters secured from the same source the following indulgences to be gained under the usual conditions: (1) A plenary indulgence, if the sisters recite this entire Office, even though interruptedly, in the presence of the Blessed Sacra-ment solemnly exposed or ~eserved in the tabernacle: (2) A partial indulgence of five hundred days for every hour of this Office that they have recited with at least a con-trite heart before the Blessed Sacrament, as above, and even though they do not recite the complete Office be: fore the Blessed Sacrament. Rv.virw for RELXG~OUS, 15 (1956), 24. Papal blessing at the end of a retreat [or those not physically present. Through their cardinal protector, a congregation of sisters obtained from the Holy Father, John XXIII, a privilege that permits the sisters who are in the infirmary and cannot go to the chapel to gain the plenary indulgence attached to the papal blessing given at the close of a retreat by hearing this blessing imparted by the priest on the public address system. Montague ex-presses the common opinion on this point briefly and clearly: "It should be noted that this privilege of receiV: ing the blessing and indulgence over the radio is attached by positive decree only to the blessing given by the Pope 'Urbi et Orbi'; when the Apostolic Benediction is given by a bishop or priest, its benefits accrue only to those who are physically present to receive it." Problems in the Lit-urgy, 374. Cf. Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, II, 231,227; Ephemerides Liturgicae, 53 (1939), 122-23; De Angelis, De Indulgentiis, nn~ 143-50; Heylen, Tractatus de Indul-gentiis, 274; Coronata, De Sacramentis, I, 525, note 5; Cappello, De Sacramentis, II, n. 678, who holds that physi-cal presence is not necessary; Regatillo, Interpretatio et Iurisprudentia Codicis Iuris Canonici, 366; Dizionario Di Teologia Morale, 154; Ferreres-Mondria, Compendium Theologiae Moralis, II, n. 753; De Herdt, Praxis Litur-gica, III, n. 294; De Amicis, Caeremoniale Parochorum, n. 386, 3. Common cloister. Absence beyond six months. In giv-ing permission for an absence beyond six months outside the houses of the institute because of ill health (c. 606, § 2), the Sacred Congregation is adding (1) the granting of "an appropriate dispensation from the rules incom-patible with the state of infirm health 0f the aforesaid sister," and (2) the injunction to superiors: "The perti-nent superiors shall take care that the sick sister is aided as much as possible by a thoughtful charity, especially with regard to spiritual matters, and that she be properly assisted." Permission given [or as long as necessary. The' petition stated: "Sister has been a. mental patient for sev-eral years, and the doctors have advised that she remain in this hospital." When granted the permission was not for any determined period but for as long as necessary. REVIEW fOR REr.IGIOUS, 15 (1956), 289--91; 18 (1959), 166. Admitting sisters o[ other institutes into tho refectory ol a congregation. "This Sacred Congregation hereby grants a general dispensation from the prescriptions of arti-cle., of your constitutions so that you may receive at table in your refectory all those sisters of other communi-ties whom you take into your juniorate." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 15 (1956), 285--87. Papal cloister. Veil covering grille. The Holy See permitted the removal of the veil covering the grille in.the parlor of a monastery Of nuns for the visits of relatives and others at the discretion of the abbess; REVIEW for RELIGIOUS, 16 (1957), 40-41. Ad-mission .o[ instructors. One monastery of nuns was per-mitted for ten years to admit into papal cloister "quali-fied feminine instructors to train the nuns in such arts and crafts as are compatible with the life of enclosed nuns., for the time strictly necessary . ~' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 16 (1957), 43-48. Entrance of extern sisters. One monastery of nuns received the faculty, in 1959, to permit the finally professed extern sisters to enter the enclosure (I) to take part in the community exercises in-sofar as, according to the judgment of the prioress, their duties on the outside permit; (2) for private retreats; (3) medical and dental examination and care; (4) sleep, when the prioress deems it expedient; to permit the tempo-rarily professed extern sisters to enter the enclosure for their renewals of vows and final profession; that these, the second-year novices, and postulants be permitted to enter (I) for novitiate exercises; (2) community exercises and sleep, according to the discretion of the prioress; (3) private retreats; and (4) medical and dental examination and care. REVIEW VO~ RELIGIOUS, 12 (1953), 289; 16 (1957), 47-48; 21 (1962), 1--9. General chapter. Ordinary and extraordinary. The Holy See is consistently defining an ordinary general chap-ter as the one that takes place at the expiration of the term of office of the superior general and on the vacancy of this office by reason of death, resignation, or deposi-tion, whereas an extraordinary general chapter is one held for any reason other than the election of a superior gen-eral. REVIEW VO~ RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 244; "1 (1942), 146. Anticipation or postponement of' general chapter: The Holy See approves an article of the following type: "The assembly of the ordinary general chapter at the end of the six-year term of office of the superior general may for weighty reasons and with the consent of the general coun-cil'be convened three months before or after the expira-÷ ÷ ÷ Practice oy the Holy See VOLUME 21, 1962 413 ~. F. Gallen, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 414 tion of the term." "The general chapter will be held three months before or after the expiration of the term of mother general." REvIEw for RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 302-303. Secretary general and treasurer general. The Holy See now demands that both of these be given ex officio membership in the general chapter and that the treasurer general~be elected by the general chapter. It permits the appointment of the secretary general by the superior general with the consent of the general council. By the law of one congregation, the secretary general and bursar general were not elected but appointed by the mother general with the Consent of her council. The)' also did not have ex officio membership in the general chapter. The mother general with the consent of her council requested that they be given such ex officio mem-bership. The request was granted only for the next gen. eral chapter, in which the matter was to be submitted to the discussion and vote of the general chapter and again proposed to the Sacred Congregation. In the case of another congregation, the Sacred Congregation refused a requested change of the constitutions from the election of the secretary general and bursar general by the general chapter to appointment by the mother general with the consent of her council for a term of three years each. In one definitive approval of constitutions, a gendral re-vision, and a request for particular changes in the con-stitutions, the secretary general and bursar general were given ex officio membership in the general chapter but they were to be appointed to their offices for a term of three years by the mother general with the consent of her council. The Sacred Congregation, in all three cases, approved such an appointment of the secretary general but changed the appointment to elefition by the general chapter in the case of the bursar general. The approved constitutions of a congregation that was made pontifical contain the following: "After the election of the superior general, the chapter shall proceed on the same day, or on the following, to the election of the four general coun-cilors and the general treasurer . As soon as convenient after the gene(al chapter, the superior general and her council meet for the appointment of the secretary gen-eral . The general council, the secretary general, and the treasurer general remain in office until the next elec-tive general chapter." REWEW for RELIGXOUS, 18 (1959), 218; 12 (1953), 286; 10 (1951), 190--91. Ex oficio member-ship of regional superiors. In some constitutions, these are given ex officio membership; in others, they are not. Local superior of the motherhouse. In one set of consti-tutions, this superior was given ex officio membership in the general chapter of an institute divided into provinces, Use of proposed revision for an approaching general chap.~ ter. One congregation of sisters asked permission to use for an approaching general chapter the section on the general chapter from a general revision of the constitu-tions that was being prepared. The Sacred Congregation granted this request only for the approaching general chapter and with the following changes. (1) This revision enacted that the elected delegates from the provinces were to be, "four from each large province which numbers at least two hundred sisters of perpetual vows; three from each small province; and two from the houses, immedi-ately subject to the mother general." The Sacred Congre-gation added the following clause to the last. part of this article: "provided the number of sisters in all these houses [those immediately subject to the mother general] is equal at least to the number of sisters in the smallest province." (2) The ex officio members of the general chapter were: the mother general, general councilors, secretary general, bursar general, former mothers general, and mothers pro-vincial. The Sacred Congregation added to this article: "Should there be a question of replacing an ex officio delegate to the general chapter, a sister shall be chosen by the mother general with the consent of her council, unless there is question of a provincial. A provincial will be replaced in the chapter by her assistant." This is the first case I have ever encountered of substitutes for the general officials in the constitutions of lay congregations, nor are such substitutes found in constitutions or general revisions of constitutions recently approved by the Holy See, Time of election of tellers and secretary of the general chapter. The Holy See approved the request of a congre-gation of sisters to transfer these elections from the day of the election of the mother general to the preliminary session of the general chapter on the preceding day. RE-VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 21 (1962), 63-64; 17 (1958), 229-30. Definitive system of delegates must be approved by the general chapter. A mother general obtained permission to use one of the group systems of electing delegates .for an approaching general chapter, but the manner of elect-ing delegates in the future had to be discussed and voted for in the chapter and again proposed to the Sacred Con-gregation for approval. In another congregation, a gen-eral chapter voted to change the method of electing its delegates but left the determination of the method to the decision of the mother general and her council, who decided on the system and requested the approval of the Holy See. The Sacred Congregation replied that the sys-tem must be first discussed in the general chapter and put to the vote of the chapter. An analysis of the house system of electing delegates. In its petition for a change to a group system, one congregation gave an interesting analy-sis of the house system that it was then using, that is, a 4- 4- Practice o~ the Holy See VOLUME 21, 1962 4. .L F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW EOR RELIGIOUS 416 larger house was one of twelve sisters of perpetual vows, and the smaller houses were combined into groups of at least twelve and not more than twenty-four sisters of per-petual vows. According to the analysis, four-fifths of the houses had fewer than twelve sisters of perpetual vows. Houses Sisters 15 of 12 or more sisters 324 29 of 6 to 12 sisters 251 31 of less than 6 sisters 108 75 683 There were 60 houses with less than 12 sisters; 26 houses had no representation in the chapter; but 3 houses with 4 sisters and 1 house with 6 sisters each had two represent-atives. This analysis i~ interesting, but it is of a house system whose basic norm is a house of twelve sisters of perpetual vows. The more common practice in the house system is to require only temporary vows, that is, to give the religious of temporary vows active voice. This would increase the number of larger houses, that is, of houses of twelve or more sisters professed of at least temporary vows; but it would be profitable to know to what degree the number of larger houses would be increased in this case. It is also to be recalled that the function of a general chapter is to treat of the more important affairs that con-cern the entire institute, not those of a particular house. Representation from all houses is not essential to such a purpose. GroUp systems are now receiving greater atten-tion, but some houses will always lack representation in any form of the group system. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 18 (1959), 215--17, 307--308; 10 (1951), 189; 5 (1946), 264-65. Systems of electing delegates apprdved by the Holy See. Five groups according to horizontal precedence. In the following system, thirty-five delegates are elected from the houses. The advantage of this particular form is that there are only five groups, not ten or twelve as are usually found in this system. The smaller number of groups gives each sister a larger number to choose from in her group. The pertinent article is: ". The names comprising these lists shall be divided into five groups, arranged by seniority according to profession, the local superiors first, then non-superiors. These shall be formed by the general c6uncil and shall be arranged by distributing the names of the local superiors and then the non-superiors horizontally in parallel columns. Each sister shall vote for seven of the sisters, that is, three superiors, four non-superiors, in her own particular group, in such a way that thirty-five dele-gates, fifteen local superiors and twenty non-superiors, will be elected." The following system is similar but al-lows for an increase to ten groups: "The mother general, with the deliberative vote of her council, shall divide the congregation into five equal groups of perpetually pro-fessed sisters. The sisters shall be listed across the five columns in order of precedence. From this grouping, one superior in each column shall be chosen as a delegate. The non-superiors are then listed in rank across the col-umns. From these, two delegates from each column shall be chosen. Thus the total number of elected delegates shall be fifteen . The number of districts or columns may be increased to ten, in proportion to the number of religious in the congregation." REvmw VOR RELm~O.US, 18 (1959), 216~17; 20 (1961), 143; 21 (1962), 64. Graduated vote and exclusion of preferred position of local superiors. In the following system, no local superiors were ex officio members of the general chapter nor did any fractional part of the elected delegates have to be local superiors. ".All sisters perpetually professed ten years or more shall have passive voice. Delegates are elected by secret graduated vote. Each sister having active voice shall indi-cate, in order of her preference, the sisters having passive voice for whom she wishes to vote. Each ballot shall con-tain the space for twenty-five names. The name listed first will receive twenty-five points. The name listed second, twenty-four points, and so forth. Each sister having active voice shall vote for not more than twenty-five nor fewer than fifteen sisters having passive voice. Repetition of a name on this ballot renders the second listing invalid. Ballots containing more than twenty-five names or fewer than fifteen names are invalid." REVIEW ~'oR RELIGIOUS, 20 (1961), 379-80; 18 (1959), 217. Second balloting in votes mailed in to the higher superior. This large congregation is divided into regions. Five delegates are elected from each region. As in the preceding system, local superiors are given no preferred position¯ ". each of the sisters will indicate on a specially prepared ballot, provided by the regional superior, her choice of five of the eligible sisters. ¯. The mother general, in a meeting of the general coun-cil, shall open and examine the ballots . She shall then make known the results to the sisters in each of the houses ofeach region. (c) Any sister who has received a majority of the votes of the sisters of the region is declared elected. If among the other sisters voted for, none has received an absolute majority, the sisters of the interested region will vote once again, as be[ore~ [or as many delegates as did not receive such a majority in the first ballot. Upon receipt of the second ballots, the same procedure as in (c) shall be followed but a simple plurality suffices for elec-tion . The five sisters receiving the highest number of votes after those elected on the second ballot shall be re-garded as the substitute delegates for their region." Ter-ritorial groups in a large congregation. "The delegates + + + Practice o] the Holy See VOLUME 21, 1962 417 4, ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the general chapter shall be elected by the sisters pro-fessed of perpetual vows, as indicated hereafter, divided into groups of not less than 75 and not more than 90 electors. The grouping of houses for the formation of elec-toral groups to choose delegates to the chapter shall be determined by the superior general, or as the case may ¯ be, the sister assistant, with the deliberative vote of her council. Each group shall choose by secret ballot two dele-gates, one a superior and one a non-superior. It shall moreover choose in like manner one superior and one non-superior as substitutes . On the appointed day the sisters of each group shall meet in a room of the desig-nated house. The senior superior shall preside . " Public voting in the chapter of alyairs. The Holy See continues to approve an article of the following type in the constitutions of congregations of sisters. "All these matters are decided by an absolute majority. If the votes are equal, the mother general has the right of deciding the matter after the third balloting. The voting is public. Any capitular, however, has the right of requesting a secret vote on a particular matter. Such a request shall be put to the public vote of the chapter. If a majority favor the request, the voting on the particular matter shall be secret." R~vIEw VOR RELIGIOUS, 17 (1958), 368-69; 21 (1962), 55-57. General councilor residing outside the motherhouse. The usual practice of the Holy See in approving consti-tutions permits two of the general councilors, with the exception of the assistant superior general, to live outside the motherhouse in a case of necessity, provided they can easily attend the meetings of the council and that they are always summoned to its sessions. The constitutions of one congregation command all general councilors, without exception, to live in the motherhouse. The Holy See gave a dispensation for three years from this law to permit a newly elected councilor to reside outside the motherhouse and thus remain as superior and principal of a high school in another city, provided that it was not a question of the assistant superior general, that the coun-cilor in question could easily attend all sessions of the council, and would be summoned to all of them. R~vi~w voR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 130. ~General councilor also local superior. The general norm of the Holy See in ap-proving constitutions is that a general councilor should not have any other assignment that would prevent the proper fulfillment of the duties of a councilor. The con-stitutions of one congregation specifically forbid a general councilor to be also local superior. A local superior, in her fifth year of office, was elected a general councilor. The Holy See was petitioned and granted the dispensa-tion for her to complete the six years as local superior. The reason, given was that her supervision was necessary until the erection of a building then in process was com-pleted. REVIEW l~oR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 130-31. Re-gional superiors are given delegated authorit)). It appears to be the present practice to give regional superiors only delegated, not ordinary, auth6rity. REVIEW Fo~'REILIGIOUS, 90 (1961), 63; 18 (1959),.946--47. Immediate third te~rn of local superior (c. 505). In granting a dispensation to per-mit an immediate third three-year term in th~ same house to a local superior, the Holy See added the condition, "provided there had been no reasonable complaints against her." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 10 (1951), 197-98; 19 (1960), 301. First washing of purificators, palls, and corporals (c. 1306, § 2). At the request of the Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor, the Sacred Con-gregation of Rites renewed for five years on May 30, 1961 the faculty by which one brother or' sister sacristan in all houses of congregations of the Third Order of St. Francis may be designated to do the first washing of the purifica-tors, palls~ and corporals used inthe sacrifice of the Mass. Cf. Capobianco, Privilegia et Facultates Ordinis Fratrum Minorum, ed. 4, Romae: Antonianum, 1961, n. 353; RE-VIEW I~OR RELIGIOUS, 15 (1956), 101; 6 (1947), 374--75. Changes in constitutions. In two cases, changes requested in constitutions were approved on trial until the next general chapter. REVIEW FOR RXLIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 352- 63; 3 (1944), 68-69. 4- 4- 4- Practice ot the Holy See VOLUME 21~ 1962 419 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. Obedience and Psychological Maturity ÷ ÷ ÷ Richard Vaughan, s.J. teaches at the University of San Francisco, San Fran-cisco 17, California. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Obedience is a virtue through which an individual promptly and agreeably follows the commandments of his superior.1 It involves the sacrificing of one's own will so as to follow the will of the superior who stands in the place of God. Since it is the will of another that must be followed, obedience may mean that a religious must put aside what he actually thinks better so as to do the wish of his superior. Since obedience is a virtue, it calls for an habitual way of responding. A religious does not become ol~edient simply because he has a desire to be obedient. He must learn to be obedient. He must learn to see God acting through the commands of his superior. It is only after a considerable effort and practice that he becomes an obedient religious. Training in Obedience The initial phases of training in obedience usually take place in the novitiate where the young religious is taught to obey the least command, of his superior. During this phase of his life, he follows a strict routine aiad he is taught that he must seek permission to deviate from this routine in the smallest way. If he fails to do so, he is told that he is failing in obedience. In some orders or congregations, it not infrequently happens that the practice of obedience relieves the young religious of the personal responsibilities which he pre-viously faced before entering the religious life. He or she learns that the obedient religious is one who follows the command of the superior in his or her every action. This practice can eliminate all need of making decisions of any importance. Were the same seminarian or sister still living outside the religious life, he or she might well be facing the responsibilities of financing a college edu-cation or even of caring for a growing family. In the re- St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q.104, a.2. ligious life such responsibilities are removed. The re-ligious finds that all his needs are cared for. All that is asked of him is that he be prompt and generous in follow-ing commands. In many ways he is treated as a child and may find a certain contentment in such treatment. The question, therefore, present~ itself: "Is ~he praqtice of obedience at odds with full personality growth? Can a religious practice obedience and still become a mature individual?" Meaning of Obedience To answer this question one needs to consider what is the nature of true obedience and then reflect upon some of the developmental aspects of obedience. True obedi-ence calls for a human act; It is an act that springs from the will.2 It involves the exercise of freedom and judge-ment. It is not a mechanically performed act that flows from passive conformity or childish submission to au-thority. In other words, the supernatural obedience of a religious should differ radically from the mechanical habit of obedience practiced by a child towards his par-ents. The obedience of the religious is an act that calls for an active choice which is based upon faith and char-ity. It is an act which requires the individual to overcome his own will. In all its perfection, it is an act which re-qUires that the religious accept the judgement of tile su-perior as his own. True obedience, therefore, should de-mand the making of mature decisions. There are many possible reasons why a religious may obey his superior. Some of these reasons may spring from childhood or adolescent sources. Frequently the religious may be unconscious as to the precise reason .why he obeys. It is this unconscious aspect of obeying that often presents obstacles when a subject is given an order of obedience. The religious who has developed true obedience knows why he obeys and his reason is deeply rooted in faith. He accepts the demands of obedience because he loves God. He gives up his own wishes and desires, so as to lead a life more fully dedicated to God. In other words, he has developed for himself a supernatural way of life built on faith which he has made his own. He does not obey be-cause he is afraid of the consequence of disobedience. He does not obey because he cannot stand to live with the feelings of shame and guilt that follow his acts of dis-obedience. He does not obey because he desires the ap-proval and admiration of his superior. Rather he obeys because he is convinced that obedience is one of the vir-tues that he must practice if he is to follow the way of life that he has freely chosen for himself. To arrive at Ibid., a.3. ÷ ÷ ÷ Obedience and Maturity VOLUME 21, 1962 R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS such a conviction calls for mature deliberation followed by a mature decision. Natural Foundation The young man or woman who enters the religious life has not come into this life completely devoid of the habit of obedience. Usually. he or she enters with the nat-ural foundation for future supernatural obedience al-ready well established. Natural obedience is a necessary part of human living. It is theproduct of Christian family life. Were there no such thing as obedience, chaos would reign in most homes and this chaos would continue on in every other form of social life. As long as men live to-gether in social groups a certain amount of obedience will always be demanded of them.s For the privilege of group living, the indi,~idual must sacrifice some of his freedom; but by the sacrifice of this freedom he gains new freedom. He is not less a man because he obeys but rather more of a man because by so doing he is living according to his God-given social nature. Since obedience is a necessary part of human living, it stands to reason that one must somehow develop the habit of obeying. It is not an inborn characteristic nor is it something that suddenly springs into being. Rather like many of the other developmental processes that mark the life of man, the practice of obedience too follows defi-nite stages of development until it reaches a state of full maturity. For example, the child develops the ability to sit before he develops the ability to walk;, and he develops the ability to walk before he develops the ability to roller skate. The infant has no experience with obedience. His first acquaintance with the demands of obedience usually are connected with fear and punishment. He either com-plies with the wishes of his mother or he is punished. He either submits to her demands or runs the risk of losing her love. As he grows older, he comes to imitate more and more the ways of his parents. He incorporates into his own personality many of their ideals, attitudes, opinions, and values. He now obeys because he wants to be like them. At this time there also comes into being the emotions of shame and guilt which are quickly attached to certain forms of behavior. These emotions play a major role in the obedience of a child. He obeys because a boy is sup-posed to obey his parents. When he fails to obey, he is plagued with feelings of guilt and shame. The uncom-fortableness of these feelings causes him to think twice before he gives way once again to disobedience. Thus through childhood and early adolescence the motivating force behind obedience can be reduced to the reactions of fear, shame, guilt, and admiration. St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles, 3, c. 117. Adolescent Rebellion With the advent of full adolescence, the average boy or girl begins to re-evaluate many of the idea/s, attitudes, and values that he or she has taken from his or her par-ents. Frequently the adolesce.nt,re, bels agai, nst, these,atti-tudes and values, not ~ecessarily becati~e he f~ils to see their intrinsic worth but simply because he realizes that they are not his own but his parents'. He realizes all too well that he must develop his own standards and values. He must form his own opinions. His attitudes must be his own and not those of his parents. Rebellion is a neces-sary part of growing up. It definitely influences the de-velopment of obedience but most outgrow .rebelliousness and progress to a mature practice of obedience. Then an individual obeys the laws of God and the State and the demands of thole placed over him because he sees that obedience in some form is a necessary part of the philos-ophy of life which he has worked out for himself. Defective Foundation The virtue, of supernatural obedience as .practiced in the religious life is built upon the foundation of.natural obedience that was established in childhood and adoles-cence. Where that foundation is weak or warped, the practice of religious obedience will be faulty. The re-ligious who has never advanced 'beyond the childish level of obeying because of fear will often find that this is the motivating force behind his obedience in the religious life. Likewise the religious whose chief reason for obeying has never gone beyond the level of guilt and shame over vio-lating a divine or human command will find himself obeying his superior for this same reason. Finally, the re-ligious' who has never fully passed through the stage of adolescent rebellion frequently finds himself at odds with his superior simply because of this rebellious spirit. Un-fortunately, there is a bit of the child left in all of us, which in regard to obedience means that to some extent motives peculiar to childhood and adolescence linger on. The extent of their influence often depends upon our ability to detect and counteract such motivation by the development of full maturity in our obedience. When a young man or woman enters the religious life, he or she has already achieved a certain level in the de-velopment of natural obedience. Success in the develop-ment of supernatural virtue will depend upon the nature of the natural obedience. If the natural foundation for supernatural obedience is faulty, then this handicap must be remedied before the novice can be expected to practice true supernatural obedience. Effective training in obedi-ence, therefore, may require such counseling and direction as would be necessary to allow the young religious to see Obedience and Maturity VOLUME 21, 1962 + + ÷ R. P. Yaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 424 why he obeys or why he fails to obey or why obedience presents such a problem to him. It is hoped that such counseling would result in insight into failures at specific levels of development followed by a change in attitude and motivation. For example, the seminarian who meets every command with a feeling of inner rebellion might be led to see that he is simply reacting to his superior in a way quite similar to the manner that he reacted to his father or mother when as an adolescent he was given a command: Once the natural foundation has been repaired, then the religious is in a position to develop supernatural obedi-ence. Supernatural Obedience Ultimately, however, whether the natural foundation for obedience must be repaired or whether that founda-tion is solid, training for supernatural obedience demands the building of a deep spiritual and ascetical life that is highly personalized. An essential part of this highly per-sonalized spiritual life would be an inner conviction that the most perfect way to love God is through the sacrifice demanded by obedience. If this personal conviction is at-tained, then acts of obedience will pose no problem but will be undertaken as a necessary part of the more perfect way of life which the religious has freely chosen to fol-low. Thus there would seem to be no value in practicing the young religious in useless acts of obedience, since obedience flows from a conviction and not from frequently repeated acts. 0bedience.is simply the natural outcome of a deeply spiritual life founded on faith and charity. The religious who understands the meaning and purpose of obedience and at the same time has a firm desire to live his life totally for God cannot help but practice the virtue of supernatural obedience when faced with a command from his superior. His total dedication to God leaves him no other choice but to follow God's will as manifest through the voice of his superior rather than his own will. To make a true act of obedience, therefore, demands a certain level of maturity. It demands that one has put aside at least to a significant degree any childish or adoles-cent qualities and' that he has assumed the responsibility of making a total dedication of himself to God. Generally speaking, only the mature person is capable of such a dedi-cation. True supernatural obedience is, therefore, a virtue possessed only by mature religious. Immaturity in Religious The mode of training given some young religious, how-ever, would actually seem to militate against the achieving o~ supernatural obedience. Under the guise of obedience; some groups of religious demand of their novices and newly professed religious a type of submission that simu-lates the obedience expected of a.child. It should not be surprising then to see in these religious a regression to childish forms of behavior. All one has to do is witness the immature actions of some novices and young religious to become aware that a return to earlier levels of behavior must be taking place. Often their way of acting is totally inappropriate to their age level. If it were seen in a college student or even more so in a young married man or woman, it would meet with amazement and embarrassment. Such behavior is often passed over with the justification that the seminarian or sister is just a novice or junior professed (as if these stages of the religious life entitle a person to regress to childish modes of acting). Noticeably absent in many novitiates and houses of stud-ies are opportunities to make important decisions for one's self. All that is required is fidelity to a routine way of life or to a course of studies, such as would be expected of the average ten year old. Frequently this absence of oppor-tunities to make decisions continues on long after the re-ligious has left the formative period. If the young religious is a teacher, the superior makes all decisions in regard to every phase of school activity. All initiative must come from the superior, and not from the subject. Thus One should not. be surprised that many religious do manifest certain signs of immaturity. They have been "treated as children and respond accordingly. Responsibility and Initiative The practice of obedience does not demand that the religious abandon all responsibilities, refrain from making decisions, and take up a childish existence. Within the framework of obedience, there is ample room for personal responsibility, initiative, and creativity. Whether these factors do exist in a group practicing the vow of obedience will depend upon the concept of obedience held by both the superior and the subject. If the superior envisions obedience as a process whereby his subjects become mere mechanical extensions of his own ego, then the practice of obedience will probably stifle psychological growth as expressed through initiative and creativity. In this situa-tion all initiative must come from the superior. No deci-sion is made by the subject without the explicit approba-tion of the superior. However, it would seem safe to say that such a limited view of obedience is far from the true view. A religious can practice the virtue of obedience without being under the explicit aegis of obedience in his every act. Thus he may be assigned a project and given full responsibility for making all decisions in regard to this project and still be operating under the vow of obedi- 4- 4. + Obedience and Maturity VOLUME 21, 1962 425 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 426 ence. It might be said that young religious should be given such responsibilities if for no other reason than to hasten the process of psychological maturity. For example, a novice should be given the full responsibility of teaching catechism to a group of public school children. He should be impressed with the idea that it is his responsibility to plan what is to be taught and how it is to be taught--pre-supposing some kind of general syllabus. He should be made aware of the fact that the success or failure .of the undertaking rests upon his shoulders and not upon those of the master of novices. Furthermore, the initial concep-tion and impetus for a project need not necessarily come from a superior if it is to be a work of obedience. It is the superior's approval that places the work under the banner of obedience. Thus if the novice who is teaching catechism develops some new ideas in regard to audio-visual aids, these ideas should not be stifled but encour-aged. The wise superior is one who realizes his own limita-tions and at the same time the potentialities ol~ his subjects and, as a result, looks for that initiative and creativity in his subjects which he may find wanting in himself. Personality, Weakness, and Obedience On the other side of the coin is the subject's attitude to-wards obedience. Due to a certain weakness of personality, some religious make use of a false notion of obedience as a means of solving their inner problems. Pseudo-obedience relieves the religious of overwhelming responsibilities and allows others to make decisions which he himself may be actually unable to make. It allows him to lead a protected, passive existence, free from the demands of adulthood. It requires no initiative on his part. It asks only that he do what he is told. Such conformity can hardly be honored by the name df obedience. Actually there, is no sacrifice of one's own will to follow the will of the superior. There is simply a following of the will of the superior because the subject is too weak to do otherwise or because childish sub-mission offers him a protection against a threatening world. On the other hand, the subject who understands the meaning of true obedience sees that he can take the initiative in many situations and that he can make use of his God-given creative powers as long as he does so under the approbation of his superior. He is also one who is will-ing to sacrifice these powers when the approbation of a su-perior is not forthcoming. Thus whether initiative and creativity will be limited in a life that professes the vow of obedience will depend upon the meaning that both the superior and the subject give to obedience. In conclusion, it can be said that the practice of obedi-ence and maturity are far from incompatible. If the obedi-ence is not mere submission but rather the true virtue of supernatural obedience, then it should further psychologi-cal maturity since only the mature religious is capable of a total dedication to God demanded by the virtue of obe~li-ence. Moreover, it can be said that true obedience offers the subject ample opportunity to assume such responsibil-ities as foster maturity. 4. ,4. 4- Obedience and Maturity VOLUME 21, 1962 427 ANDRE AUW, C.P. Contentment: Child of Poverty ÷ ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P. is stationed at the Passionist Semi-nary, 1924 Newburg Road, Louisville 5, Kentucky. REVIEWFOR RELIGIOUS 428 Nothing is more characteristic of our modern jet age than the desire for change. Every day we Ere faced with constantly changing challenges to buy and try new magic-ingredient tooth pastes and detergents, to exchange old-model cars and freezers for better, newer ones. Dom Hu-bert Van Zeller, O.S.B., has summed up this spirit very neatly: "A man today will think little of changing his job, his house, his son's school, his religion, his political alle-giance, his car and his wife--perhaps all in the one year.''x This restless spirit is a sign and symbol of man's discon-tent. Men are discontented today, and they are discon-tented because they have a feverish thirst for things. They want things they would be better off without; they want things they cannot even use; they want things they simply cannot have. Men want things for many reasons: often be-cause having things is a symbol of security or a mark of distinction. But whatever the reason, men keep reaching out for new things to possess as if their very survival de-pended upon it. The sad fact is that the acquisition of all these things only adds to man's discontent. It is like a man who seeks relief from pain by taking morphine; the ensuing pain of addiction is worse than that of the original malady. Mother Janet stuart has supplied us with a better pre-scription for the illness of discontent. Faced with these same symptoms she once said: "We must either possess more or desire less." Implicit in Mother Stuart's statement is a rejection of the "possess-more" theory. Experience soon proves to us that the mere addition of things no more solves the problem of the discontented man than does the addition of drinks solve the problem of the alcoholic. The remedy is reduced to one choice: we must desire less if we 1 Dom Hubert Van Zeller, O.S.B., Approach to Calvary (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961), p. 92. would find contentment. And the way to desire less is to develop the spirit of poverty. Often the very mention of the word poverty causes the formation of a series of unattractiveimages in our minds. The word seems to have the touch of winteT about it, sug-gesting something cold and sterile. But such is not the case. Poverty is a warm, lovely, life-giving thing. St. Francis of Assisi thought of poverty as a beautiful woman: Lady Poverty. St. Ignatius told his followers that they must think of poverty as a mother. The analogy of a woman or mother is especially apt since both are considered as sources of life and beauty. Woman's role is essentially life-giving and love-giving. And so it is with poverty. Poverty prepares us to receive the fullness of the Christ-life, and it continues to nourish that life. It prepares us to receive the everlasting love of the Spirit, and it keeps that love vibrant and strong. Rightly then is contentment called the child of poverty, for it is the first-born of a spirit which is essen-tially life-giving and love-giving. It is the fruit of the Spirit of love. In addition to this, poverty is the great liberator of man. Fallen nature has ringed us round with a steel circle of egocentrism. Poverty breaks through this closed circle and opens'up our souls to the wider worId of which Christ is the center. It gives us the thrilling freedom of the children of God, enabling us to soar instead of having to trudge along, burdened by the leaden weight of useless things. Most of the ugly effects of original sin can be, in some measure, neutralized by the spirit of poverty: self-interest, self-will, and especially self-pity. This latter effect, which is an unreasonable absorption in our current handicaps or misfortunes, can be one of our chief sources of discontent. Yet how wonderfully does a genuine spirit of poverty nul-lify our tendency towards self-pity. Helen Keller furnishes us with an excellent example of such a spirit. From child-hood she has borne the burden of blindness, deafness, and the inability to speak. Few have had better reason to in-dulge in self-pity than Helen Keller, yet never has she done so. Listen to her own life-summary: "It has been a happy life. My limitations never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times. But it is vague, like a breeze among flowers. Then the wind passes, and the flowers are content." It was the spirit of poverty which en-abled Helen Keller to appreciate herself as God had fashioned her. Poverty led her to contentment. As we read through the Gospels we cannot fail to notice the insistence of Our Lord upon the necessity for poyerty. Christ promised the "kingdom" to the poor: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom Of heaven" (Mt 5:3). By "poor in spirit" Christ meant the "little ones," the anawim of the Old Testament. These are the helpless, ÷ ÷ ÷ Contentment VOLUME 21, 1962 429 ÷ Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 430 childlike souls who accept all things from God's hands, who depend upon Him as a child depends upon a father, who willingly suffer persecution because they know that no matter what happens to them, their heavenly Father will care for them. The spirit of poverty produces in us this same childlike attitude towards ourselves and things and God. One of the ways in which it does this is by painting for us a picture of gratitude. We suddenly see how much we really have, and, as a result, the needs and desires of the moment as-sume a less important value in our eyes. The following story is told of Brother Andrd, C.S.C., the famed apostle of St. Joseph at the shrine in Montreal. One day a man came to him complaining of his numerous misfortunes, and the saintly .brother said to him: "Tell me, would you take a hundred thousand dollars for one of your eyes?" The man answered, "Why, of course notl . Or for.one of your feet or hands or arms? . No!" replied the man. "Well then,'.' said Brother Andre, "count them up: With your eyes and hands and feet and arms and legs, you're worth over a million dollars!" In his simple, homely way, Brother Andr~ conveyed a telling truth: we all are far richer than we realize. Such counting of blessings, this development of a deep sense of gratitude is one of the chief ways in which poverty prepares us for the gift of contentment. It is far easier, once we see how much we have, to control our desires for the things we have not. Slowly thi~ initial realization ex-tends to the conviction that w~ really need very little. And it is then that we will have been made rich by our spirit of poverty. The great reformer of La Trappe, De Ranch, saw the beauty of this paradox and thus wrote: "It is not the man who has much who is rich, but the man who wants nothing." Another way in which the spirit of poverty produces in us a childlike attitude towards things is by filling us with a genuine sense of compunction. Much of our greedy grasping for things derives from an inherited tendency to be what we are not. Like our first parents, we see an. at-tractive object and then begin to act as if we have a right to it. We, also, listen, to the serpent and try to "be like gods," asserting our self-interest and our self-will in oppo-sition to the divine interest and will. Compunction strikes at the roots of this tendency. An analogy is seen in the case of a man who in a moment of weakness has been unfaithful to his marital promises. Al-though the man may be forgiven by his wife and reunited to her love, still he always carries in his heart a remem-brance of his sin. This remembrance is a good thing, for it serves to prevent the man from reaching out again to-wards illicit loves. Now in a similar way, compunction helps us to control our desires by recalling our past infidelity to God's love. Compunction shows us two things clearly: the self-deceit of egocentric desires, on the one hand, and the miracle of God's forgiving love, on the other. Between these two poles of awareness we can live content, no longer ~rusting in selfish d~sires but rather relying totally upon God's will in our regard. Compuction, then, helps us to forget the things we should not remember, and to remember the things we must never forget. We are enabled to forget our unreason-able preoccupation with self. At the same time we can never forget that .we are sinners deserving nothing, lovers who have been unfaithful, and yet, despite all this, we are chosen souls who have been called to become saints, des-tined to share God's love for all eternity. Gratitude and compunction thus constitute two princi-pal ways in which the spirit of poverty will prepare our souls for the gift of contentment. Gratitude says to us: "You have so much." Compunction adds: "You have so much which you do not deserve." Both help.us to see our-selves and things and God with the clear vision of children: humbly, trustingly dependent upon God for all things. The true purpose of the spirit of poverty is the attain-ment of freedom from the captivity of self in order to be united to God. Poverty has the power to swing us from the orbit of egocentrism into the orbit of Christocentrism if we permit it to neutralize, one by one, our self-centered desires and attachments. An important consideration to recall at this point is the fact that our desires and attachments always wear most at-tractive apparel. Yet it is also true that, like Dante's hypo-crites, the beautiful cloaks are inreality leaden weights and the splendor of their appearance in no way lessens the ugliness of that which they try to hide. Desires can come to us under the cover of charity for our neighbor or zeal for souls. And all the while 'such desires may be purely self-centered. One such desire frequently comes to religious who have lived in their community for upwards of five years. The novelty has vanished, and in its place come new yearnings. Suddenly the religious feels that a different religious so-ciety might be the solution. A teaching sister feels that her talents belong in a missionary group; a Jesuit is attracted to the life of the Trappists. Yet almost always the counsel of a prudent spiritual director is: "Stay where you are." Since the desire appears under the guise of greater good for the Mystical Body of Christ, the ensuing trial can be very difficult for the particular religious. It is at such.a time that one discovers the meaning of a spirit of poverty. Thomas Merton went through this or- Contentment VOLUME 21, 1962 + ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 432 deal. He longed to share the solitude of the Carthusians. He thought that such a lifd would better serve the inter-ests of Christ and the Church. He was wrong. Heeding the wise counsel of his spiritual fathers, he remained with the Trappists to become a source of countless other contem-plative vocatons. It is, then, a man with personal expe-rience who later wote these lines: "Do not flee to solitude from the community. Find God in the community and he will lead you to solitude." Thomas Merton met the test of poverty; he relinquished his egocentric desire in a true spirit of poverty. Thus, for him, poverty led to content-ment. The lives of the saints are filled with similar trials. Be-fore they received the gift of contentment, they had to sac-rifice some dear desire or attachment.-For some it was a thing, for others a place, for still others a friendship. But like a cautery, the spirit of poverty had to burn away the cancerous growth of egocentrism. In the book, St. Madeleine Sophie Barat, Mother Ma-guire, R.S.C.J., describes an incident in the lives of Sophie Barat and Philippine Duchesne. Their early years to-gether were marked by a wonderful understanding and intimacy; yet this had to be sacrificed. The author says in reflecting their attitude: "[It was] a brief honeymoon of religious life to which they looked back nostalgically all' their .lives without ever doubting it was better to give it up." Both saints met the test of poverty; and thus, for them,, poverty led to contentment. Not that poverty does its work without pain. We all re-call that Francis of Assisi was the great exemplar of pov-erty, but what we may forget is the price he had to pay to win the hand of Lady Poverty. Francis Bernardone was a. man with warm Italian blood in his veins and had a poet's appreciation for beautiful things in his heart. He liked good food and the taste of fine wine. He enjoyed the ad-miration of his stalwart friends and the adulation of his fair admirers. But one day Infinite Love and Perfect Beauty spoke to Francis in his poet's heart and said: "Sell all, and come follow Me." It took years of struggle with himself, but Francis won the battle. One by one he cast aside his attachments as he had earlier cast aside his cloth-ing at the feet of his bishop and thus, "naked followed the naked Christ." Then it was that he was able to become the Poverello, singing to the birds and blue skies his constant refrain: "My God and my alll" For Francis, poverty led to contentment. And in southern France a young girl who became a woman without ever losing her childlike spirit of poverty was asked one day about a strange paradox in her life. Bernadette Soubirous had seen and talked with the Mother of God. She had been honored as had few mortalg. before her. And yet all the honors disappeared when she entered the convent. There she worked about the kitchen, accepting humiliation as a part of her daily fare. A fellow religious thought it odd that our Lady should give her such recognition and then ignore her, and she asked Ber-nadette why this should be so. Bernadette replied by way of a question, "What do you do when you have finished using a broom? . Why, I put it in the corner," answered the sister. And Bernadette said, "Well, that's just what our Lady has done with me. And. I'm happy in my corner." For Bernadette Soubirous it was equally true: poverty led to contentment. So it is that the spirit of poverty leads us from self to Christ. By its power we are enabled to pull away from the overly strong attraction of self-centered desires and are permitted to be drawn into the dynamic, life-giving love of Christ. As we empty our souls of self, Christ fills them. As we lose a worldly love, we gain a divine one. The spirit of poverty gives us the ability° to accept our-selves as we are, for by means of gratitude wesee how much we really have; and .by means of compunction we see how little we really deserve. Poverty helps us to forget the un-important facts of our lives and to remember the things that matter. Poverty lets us feel. the gentle hand of our Father, soothing the ache of our troubled minds, quieting the cry of our restless hearts, and calming the urgency of our impelling desires. It give~ us childlike trust for the needs of tomorrow and childlike joy for the deeds of to-day. Of all the saints, none has better expressed the life-giving effects of the spirit of.poverty than St. Paul. He .has given us a magnificent example of a man made rich through poverty, of a man living the fullness of the Christ-life. By his own testimony, St. Paul underwent a long cata-logue of apostolic .sufferings: hunger, nakedness, want, imprisonment, scourgings, persecution, lies, misunder-standings, disappointments. And yet with all these suffer-ings Paul was able to say: "Not that I have anything to complain of, for I have learned the secret, in any and all conditions, of being well-fed, and of going hungry, of hav-ing plenty and of going without. I can do anything through Him who gives me strength" (Phil 4:11-14). The example is a shining one for us. The language is clear. It is the statement of a sinner who became a saint, speaking to us in the beautiful vocabulary of Christian contentment. Contentment VOLUME 21~ 1962 GEORGE E. GANSS, S.J. Prudence and Vocations ÷ Rev. George E. Ganss, S.J., .St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, is the director of the Institute of Jesuit Sources. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This article will deal with the order of practice; that is, its purpose will be to suggest some practical applications of prudence to the technique of counseling young men and women about vocations. For this purpose we do not need any detailed discussion of the metaphysical intrica-cies connected with the topic of prudence. But a brief re-view of the highlights, in one paragraph, will help us to get our bearings. The Concept o[ Prudence Prudence is correct knowledge about things to be done, recta ratio agibilium. St. Thomas accepted this definition from Aristotle and sagely pointed out that prudence is the application by the practical intellect of wisdom to human affairs (Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q. 47, a. 2). This is our basic concept. It is accurate but abstract. Hence we can profitably add some other observations which give it human warmth. Etymologically, prudentia is derived by contraction from pro-videns, looking ahead, St. Augustine says (Quaest. Lib., q. 83, a. 61), "Prudence is the knowledge of things to be sought and things to be avoided." St. Isidore of Seville is a little quaint but charming and not far wrong when he writes (Etymologiae, X, PL 82, 202), "A prudent man--one who, so to speak, looks far ahead; for his sight is keen, and he foresees the probable outcome of uncertainties." Prudence directs the other moral virtues so that fortitude may not degenerate into foolhardiness, or temperance into fanaticism, or justice into unreasonable rigorism. Prudence, too, leads a man to take counsel about the best means to be used to attain some end, to judge soundly about their fit-ness, and to direct their being carried into practice (Summa Theologiae 2-2, q. 47, a. 8; q. 51, a. 1, ad Basically, prudence is a natural~ virtue which is acquired ',, by experience and exercise. But a man in the state of grace receives also the infused virtue of prudence which supernaturalizes both the habit and the act of the natural virtue and makes them fruitful toward the supernatural destiny, the beatific vision (Summa Theolog!ae 2-2, q. 47, a. 14, ad 1). ~ Applications We now proceed to apply this theory in the practical order. The "thing to be done," about which we are seeking at least some "correct knowledge," is the tech-nique of counseling young men and women who may perhaps accept God's invitation .to dedicate their lives to Him in priestly or religious life. I think that our first step had better be to oil the gears of our own sense of humor, Some wag wrote this definition: "A crazy man is one who holds an opinion different from mine." This wag fared happily until his friend the crazy man applied the definition back to the wag who wrote it. After that, nobody could tell which one really was the crazy man, or which was crazier than the other. Now, I shall suggest some techniques of vocational counseling which I hope are prudent. But if the tech-niques of others are different from mine, and if I there-fore brand their techniques as imprudent, then I am crazier than my crazy wag just described above. There are many apt procedures or means to stimulate or guide young men and women to desire to consecrate them-selves to God. Each counselor must seek the methods which work best with his personality and his set of local circumstances. In each case the personalities of the direc-tor and of the advisee are important and highly individu-alistic factors. What works well with one counselor or advi~ee sometimes will not work at all with others. So, for each of us the exercise of prudence is our.continual search for correct knowledge and its application to our task in hand. In this, observation of the techniques of others is sometimes helpful because it brings new ideas which we can apply. It has been my good fortune during the past twenty years to counsel many boys and girls who have entered all the states of life. Most of these youths were in college, but many were in high school, and some in the grades. As a result of this experience, I shall suggest some procedures which God has on His occasions blessed with success. But I state them precisely and merely as suggestions which each one can modify, accept, or reject according to his own personality and situation. 4- 4- Pl/orucadteionnc$e and VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ G. E. Ganss, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 436 The Function of the V.ocation Counselor One point in which a zealous counselor of potential priests or religious can exercise prudence consists in his being aware of.his proper function. It is not to cajole or to "pressure" youths into "trying out" a seminary or novitiate; that would be the practice of "roping in" which they generally resent. Rather, the advisor's func-tion is to cooperate with God's grace in stimulating the boy or girl in such a way that he or she conceives on his own the desire to dedicate himself to God in priestly or religious life. As means to attain this effect, he can be an example of one who is happy in his dedicated life, and he can say and do things which bring 'the young people to see for themselves both the values and the joys of con-secrated life. The counselor's function can be called one of procreating grace. He stimulates the thoughts and de-sires which God supernaturalizes and through which, as actual graces, He gives the increase. A Sample Procedure How can he do all this prudently? To remain concrete and practical, I shall suggest, or rather exemplify, one procedure which has often turned out to be effective both with individual advisees and with groups (either in re-treats or in the classroom). 1. Put the advisee or group at ease by explaining your policy and procedure, somewhat as follows. "God has given to each young man or woman the right to choose his or her own state of life, and no one else--parent, priest, sister, or friend--ought to force or "pressure" one into any state. A counselor's function is to give the young person information by which he can make his choice mole in-telligently, or to explain the selections open to him, or to point out possible errors in his thinking, or, above all, to give him a chance to think out loud without feeling that he is as yet committing himself. But the making of the decision belongs to the youth himself; and that will be my policy in dealing with you." 2. Point out that the basic consideration, the hub around which everything else turns, is a clear and opera-tive concept of the chief purpose of life. For example, the counselor can present this statement and bring it to life: "God made me to give me an. opportunity to increase my sanctifying grace here below by performing meritori-ous deeds and by receiving the sacraments, and by means of this to merit a proportionately greater capacity here-after to know God directly, to love Him, to praise Him, and to be happy by the act of praising Him. The effor~ to do this here below is the pursuit of Christian perfectionl or spiritual development." 3. Explain that, to speak practically, there are four chief states of permanent situations in life in which one can work out his Christian perfection: those of marriage; single persons in the world; priesthood; and religious life as a nun, brother, or priest. God .invites each you.ng per-son into one of thosefor Which heis ~uited, but He leaves it up to the youth to accept or rejec~ this invitation. Hence the boy or girl should think the matter out, bring it to a head, and make his own decision. After he has made his choice and brought it to its irrevocable stage, God wants him or her to develop himself according to God's directives for the state he has entered, and to for-get about what might have happened if he had chosen some other state. In practice I have found it psychologically best with groups to explain marriage first--at considerable length and as an attractive state in which husband and wife should help each other to work out their Christian p~r-fection, Most of those present will marry, and all are spontaneously interested in this vocation. A careful and' inspiring presentation of Christ's plan for His Mysti-cal Body in miniature disarms the hearers of any fear of being "roped in" to one of the consecrated states. Then they are interested and happy to listen to an explanation of the other vocations to which God invites some. 4. Present a sound norm of choosing. The problem is not which state I like best, or even which is the best, for example, marriage or a consecrated state, Rather it is, which is the best for me with my personality and char-acteristics. To put it concretely, the most prudent pro-cedure for the youth is to conjecture, as prudently as he can: "In which of these states am I, with my personality, my temperament, and my personal abilities, likely to in-crease my sanctifying grace the most?" Variant wordings of this norm can make it clearer and more attractive, for example: ,In which state am I likely to bring greater glory to God?" or "to serve God and my fellow men the best?" 5. Give a theological explanation of what a vocation is, pointing the explanation to the particular.state of life in which the advisee is showing interest, for example, the sisterhood. This can be done in words somewhat like these. "Every vocation, to any sta~e of life, entails three elements: (a) God's invitation, (b) a decision of the in-dividual to accept it or not, and (c) a decision of the Church to admit him to the state in question. "For example, in its completed stage a vocation to the sisterhood comes into existence through these steps. First, through the thoughts or impulses and desires which are actual graces, God invites the qualified girl to offer her-self to serve Him and His Church in religious life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prudence and Vocations VOLUME 21, 1962 (;;. £. (;(=nss, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~t38 "Second, she enters upon her period of deliberation. Helped perhaps by some reading, and surely by prayer, and perhaps by a counselor who will be guide, philos-opher, and friend but not a pressing salesman, she thinks out the details of her physical, intellectual, moral, and temperamental suitability for the life and work of the order she is thinking of entering. She weighs the pros and cons--and generally it is wise to write them in op-posite columns of a paper. Thus she formulates them more clearly, captures them for possible future use in moments of wavering or temptation, and gets the chance to evaluate their cumulative worth. "ALmong the reasons for, she sees the nobility of dedi-cating her life to God, and the spiritual values this of-fers: opportunities for growth in sanctifying grace~ Among the reasons against are the many values she must sacrifice to get those spiritual values: money of her own, marriage, being master of her own decisions, and the like. These latter values, being largely material and tangible, are often more attractive to human nature than the spiritual values which are more abstract. But through her prayerful thought, God gives her the light to see that the spiritual values are in reality the greater ones. Hence, for a good motive (one predominantly spiritual though it may be supplemented by natural motives), she decides to apply for admission. After proper investigation of her character and qualifications, the Church, acting through the re-ligious superior whom she has delegated, accepts her for the order. She now has a religious vocation in its prelim-inary stage, the stage for testing. "She enters the postulancy and then the novitiate, where she tests the life and the life tests her. As she goes along she discovers that her n~otives for leading the life grow stronger. Also, she gives reasonable satisfaction to those in charge of her. Toward the end of the novitiate she decides to pronounce her vows for the length of time the Church permits, and the Church decides, through the superior, to permit her to pronounce them. In similar fashion she goes through the periods of temporary pro-fession and then decides, again with the permission of the Church expressed through the superior, to consecrate her-self to Christ the King forever by perpetual vows. Now her vocation has reached its complete stage. This can be described as a set of circumstances in which she has a well founded hope that she will receive from God the helps she needs to live happily and well as a religious." 6. Gently tell the advisee to think this matter out pray-erfully and come to her decision. Give her a pamphlet or something else to read--preferably something not too long. The present writer has written his own pamphlet for this purpose which embodies the approach described above: On Thinking Out Vocations--to the Four Stages o[ Life (Queen's Work, St. Louis 18, Mo.). Reading this enables the advisee to review and even expand all that she has been told. Also, welcome her to come back for as many informal discussions as she wants. In what way is the procedure .outlined above an appli-cation of our principle of prudence? I think that it is such an application for two main reasons. First, it helps the advisee to set up his problem, and it shows him by ex-ample how to think it through. Second, right from the start it throws the burden of decision upon the individual. That is, it points up to the advisee the fact that sooner or later he or she must bring the matter to a head, think it out, and make a firm decision in the light of the clearly seen motives for and against. If she or he enters a con-secrated state, he will persevere only by the activi.ty of his own will aided by God's grace; and it is well that his first entrance also comes about through a similar act of his own will aided by God's grace. This advisee has not received any urging, but only the encouragement and self-confidence which are inherent in his discovering for him-self clear knowledge of the motives which bring him to enter religious life and to persevere. Raising Motives of Prospective Vocations We come now to a new application of prudence: some suggested means of gradually raising the motives of young men and women who begin to show an interest in the priesthood or religious life. The process which God seems to use most frequently in granting vocations---either vocations to the faith or vo-cations to priestly or religious life--is that of a gradual progression from natural to supernatural motives. This is why many priests have noticed that the majority of their conversions have sprung from courtships. In so many cases the motives which first evoke a non-Catholic's in-terest in the Church are natural ones: intimate friendship with a Catholic and the thought of marrying him or her. If the priest whom the non-Catholic approaches Simply tells his timid inquirer that his motive is unworthy, the inquirer departs and never returns. But if the priest is friendly and sympathetic and by his instructions gradu-ally raises the inquirer's motives, in many instances the latter eventually requests baptism for motives truly supernatural; and he would enter the Church with or without that marriage. God employs a similar technique in bestowing many, if not most, vocations to the priesthood or the religious life. The motives which first lead John or Mary to think of begoming a priest or nun are often on a purely natural plane. He has, perhaps, a religious teacher whom he ad- Prudence and Vocations VOLUME 21, 1962 439 ÷ ÷ ÷ G. E. Ganss, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 440 mires. That teacher's classes are well prepared, and he is always cheerful, approachable, willing to listen and then to help. His happiness and peace of soul shine through his work. John. gets the dim thought: "He (or she) is happy doing something really worthwhile, I'd like to be like him." Someday, perhaps with nervous shyness or clumsy inepititude, he stutters out an inkling of his vaguely formulated thought to a priest or nun who is in a position to direct him. If this director is inclined.to judge--"This person gives evidence of not knowing what a vocation means; his motives are insufficient, unworthy, shallow; therefore he has no true vocation"--he will also be prone to send John or Mary away quickly with a brief or even a curt remark, And John or Mary will not return. But if the direetor is alert and willing to risk his time, often he can gradually, patiently, and tactfully give John or Mary more motives; he can raise their natural ones to a supernatural level, so that eventually they will con-secrate themselves to God from motives truly worthy. In The Faculty Adviser for March, 1944 (St. Louis: The Queen's Work), Father Lawrence Chiuminatto, S.J., wrote that, in replies to a questionnaire, several hundred nuns listed, in order of frequency, the following attrac-tions which brought them to religious life: (1) The happiness, peace, contentment, friendliness, and so forth, of the sisters with whom they came into contact. (2) The good report and example of their relatives in religion. (3) An inner attraction to the life . a sense of happiness they felt in being in the companionship of sisters. (4) An increasing realiza-tion of the emptiness of worldly pleasures, which feeling sur-prisingly often followed the most enjoyable of parties and the best kind of entertainment. (5) An increasing love for Christ and the desire to work for souls. (6) A growing desire for a life of prayer and service, free from the dangers of temptations: (7) Lack of interest in the opposite sex and in establishing a family. (8) The glow of happiness experienced when present at religious processions, or even visiting a convent. (9) Lack of satisfaction and the peace of mind they sought. (10) The desire to make amends for their past life. (11) (Last and least of all) Some book or pamphlet read, sermon heard, retreat or mission made. Notice how many of these motives are natural ones; this is especially true of those observed first and conse-quently often the ones first broached to a director. They are natural, yes, but capable of being supernaturalized. Many of them, for example, 1, 2, half of 3, 4, 7, and 10, may at first seem unworthy motives. What if some director had hastily concluded to the unsuitability of those who had them and discouraged these young women who now are able and happy religious? Clearly, therefore, in many cases the director's tasK and opportunity is to raise natural motives to the superi natural and to supply additional motives as well. As-suredly he will discourage unfit subjects. But he will not be too hasty to conclude that an inquirer is unfit. Rather, he will strive to make true of himself what Isaiah said of Christ: "A bruised reed he will not break~ and a smoking wick he will not quench" (M~°12-:20). '°' ~' ' ' But how shall he proceed with prudence in order to realize his opportunity? Here again each director will have to use his own ingenuity. But here are a few sug-gestions: he can always show himself kindly, approach-able, easily accessible, and interested in the. advisee. He can make him feel welcome, and let him talk, even ram-ble. Once the advisee has worked up the courage to talk freely about vocation, he will talk himself into better motives, especially if he is drawn out a bit by questions somewhat like this: "Yes, that is a good reason [or becom-ing a priest; but isn't there another reason in your.mind, something like this, that you want to serve Christ better?" Other means of raising or adding motives will occur to you as you observe the need of each case. And as you work keep up your courage despite some disappointments. Remember, Christ did not win all his cases; neither will you. So do what you can, and with peace of soul leave the rest to God. Plant and water and pray Him to grant the increase. Allowing Full Freedom in the Choice o[ a Group When John or Mary has decided to .dedicate himself to God, the Church allows him full freedom to apply to the order or diocese in which he thinks he will bring greater glory to God. It is prudent for the counselor to do the same. He may well give information about the type of work done, or the need of personnel, or the out-look on the spiritual life of any of them, including his own. But if he exerts pressure in favor of his own or any other group, he may well stir up resentment in the young person and spoil the vocation for his own and all other groups too. The choice belongs to the boy or girl. In the long run all the groups of priests, brothers, or nuns will come out best if they follow a policy such as this, for all of us will be working to help one another. Each of us should indeed ha,~,e love and loyalty towards his own group, but above all should be our love and loyalty to-ward the welfare of the universal Church. The Screening o[ Candidates It is obvious that applicants who are clearly unfitted or unlikely to become suitable religious should be discour-aged from entering the novitiate. But prudence requires that a vocational counselor should not be too quick to decide that one is clearly unfitted. Frequently through + 4. 4. Prudence and Vocations VOLUME 21, 1962 44.1 academic counseling, or tests of his general intelligence or ability to read English, some one temporary deficiency is discovered which can be remedied. It is wise, too, for the vocational counselor to remember that he is not yet recommending one for ordination or for perpetual pro-fession. Rather, he is recommending that the advisee be given a chance to enter the course in which he will de-velop himself and eventually prove himself fit for ordina-tion or perpetual profession. Virtually every vocational counselor who has had years of experience will discover something like this as he re-flects back over cases he has handled in the past. Many of those about whose fitness and disposition he felt most sure sooner or later dropped out. And many of his border-line cases about whom he felt most insecure happily de-veloped in an unexpected way, and they are today doing excellent work as happy priests or religious. He shudders at the thought of what would have happened if he had been too rigid. We are 'dealing with at least two unpre-dictable factors, human free will and God's grace. We cannot guess all our cases. St. Thomas has told us that in many things human prudence cannot be infallible. In other.words, all we can hope for is a good batting average. Let us accept our human limitations, and with them do the best that we can for God, and confidently leave the test to Him. That is the final application of prudence which I have to suggest. Also, if others think that a dif-ferent approach is better for them than that which I have described, it does not mean that either of us is necessarily wrong. G. E. Ganss, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS WILLIAM C. MclNNES, s.J. Adaptation of Retreats for College Students In one of the introductory observations to the Spiritual Exercises, Saint Ignatius very wisely comments that "the Spiritual Exercises must be adapted to the condition of the one who is engaged in them, that is, to his age, educa-tion, and talent." Hardly any retreat director, amateur or professional, would professedly disregard such an in-struction. Yet many directors are perhaps not fully aware of the practical consequences of such an instruction. Some, succumbing to the favorable comments of ~hree or four delighted sisters after a retreat, will° feel that they have, therefore, successfully reached ninety to one hun-dred retreatants. Others, suspecting that experience by itself brings empathy, feel assured that they can reach sisters and brothers, religious and lay people with little extra effort since "they are all essentially the same." But neither unrepresentative comments nor even ex-perienced intuitions can be a satisfactory basis for the large-scale conducting of retreats today. Adaptation re-quires a firmer foundation than pleasantly prejudiced opinions or intuitive knowledge. It demands a valid and representative insight into the mentality of the audience. Such an insight is, in fact, almost as important as a knowl-edge of the Exercises themselves. It is just as necessary to know whether a message is being received by a particular audience as it is to know what the message is. The retreat director must, then, be armed with some understanding of the audience he is attempting to reach as well' as of the instrument he is trying to use. Without the latter the director has nothing to say; without the former he is talking only to himself. This knowledge of the audience, which is the basis of successful adaptation, is of special importance in plan-ning retreats for college students. Usually these retreats to students are given to rather large groups, they last only three days, and they offer a condensed version of the + William C. Mc- Innes, S.J., is associ-ate dean at Boston College, Chestnut Hill 67, Massachu-setts. VOLUME 21~ 1962 443 ÷ ÷ ÷ W. C. Mclnne$, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Ignatian Exercises. But even more than the changed. circumstances, the changed character of the audience postulates special adaptation. The modern student moves in a world that shapes much of his life and most of his views. It trims his ideals and sets a horizon to his vision. It colors his power to speak and his power to listen. It determines his power to pray and his ability to sit still. A sympathetic insight into this world along with a re-alization of the problems in communication that are raised are fundamental to the success of college retreats. The question is not: should we adapt retreats for college students or not? It is: how can we best adapt? To many outsiders a college campus is a remote, ivy. covered island in a hectic world, and a college student's life is permeated by that pastoral calm. Someone has calle~t college "a four year bracket before the beginning of real living." But the stereotype is inaccurate. Actually the four years of college are years of restless searching, new discoveries, and increasing pressures which leave a deep imprint on student lives and hence are certain to influ-ence receptivity to any message, spiritual or otherwise. A college career today is more institutionalized and pressurized than ever before. The college student begins his college career as a College Board score in the admis-sions office; he survives as a cumulative average in the registrar's file; and his whole academic record is sum-marized and punched out by an IBM printer. During his four years of school, he will be continually pressured to produce, to get good grades "if you want to get into graduate school," to rank in the top ten per cent of your class "if you want an interview for a good job at the placement office." Meanwhile all around him he dis-. covers heightened opportunities for sense pleasure and for taking a "break" when he thinks he needs it or when the pressure gets too great. And frequently he finds that he has the inflated wallet that makes these "breaks" fi-nancially possible. The external pressures from organization and pleasure are matched by an internal confusion which also jams any channel of communication to his soul. No respectable student today would be found dead wearing the label of "organization man." Yet college campuses are cluttered with the symbols of conformity--a conformity ruled by some anonymous Seventh Avenue clothing merchant or a "name" drama critic on a New York newspaper. A grow-ing sophistication makes most college students reject violently any argument from authority. Yet many of them will adhere dogmatically to a relativism that makes all intellectual pursuit an entertaining exercise without either agonizing pain or blinding ecstasy--and, worse~ without any deep commitment. In such an environment! it should not be surprising that the vision of truth is un-consciously tarnished by life's distractions and the dedi-cated pursuit of an abstract ideal is unwittingly slowed down by the practical concerns of life and the growing feeling that "it really isn't what you know but whom you know that counts." It is to this buffeted, pleasure-loving, uncommitted young generation that the retreat movement reaches out. And successfully too. The growing number of retreat houses, the steadily rising statistics of the number of re-treatants making closed retreats annually, the growing importance of the layman's retreat movement prove the fact. Why? Because retreat directors are speaking the message of Christ in language modern students can grasp. As long as there is contact, the message can get through. During the past two years, the author has directed a series of closed weekend retreats for Catholic college men. These retreats were held at a nearby seminary where the retreatants made the standard Ignatian Exercises and were also able to take some part in the community life of the seminary. In an effort to insure a continuing contact be-tween director and retreatants by determining the reac-tions of actual participants, a written questionnaire was devised and distributed at the close of.each retreat. The questionnaire sought to determine their impressions, fa-vorable and unfavorable, what they found most helpful about the retreat and what they found most difficult, what they would suggest to be changed. A~total of 203 detailed returns, representing about eighty per cent of the total number of retreatants, was received and form the basis of this study. Some may object that a sociological instrument of this type has no place in the giving of retreats. Such a device, however, is actually far more representative than the scat-tered oral comments of a few retreatants, and it is far more objective than the intuitive impressions of the director. Will it extract any worthwhile information? It .can, if properly constructed and explained so that bias and leading questions are eliminated. Compared to one hundred per cent accuracy, it is, of course, poor. But compared to a pure guess, it is certainly an improvement. And since one hundred per cent accuracy is impossible by any means and a pure guess is inadequate by any ob-jective standard, it does provide at least some exploratory information that can give important leads to an inquiring retreat director. The retreat groups which form the basis of this study ranged in size from seventeen to fifty-eight. The average number was thirty-five. Three of the groups were made up of undergraduate students majoring in business; two other groups were taking liberal arts. One group was 4. 4. 4- Retreats College Students VOLUME 21, 1962 445 + W. C. Mclnnes, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 446 composed of sodalists, most of whom had made retreats before; two other groups were composed primarily of students making retreats for the first time. One group wax composed of a senior class taught by the director and so were all known to him beforehand; two other groups were from another Catholic college and had never met the director before. One group was an intercollegiate group of business majors from three colleges; another group was an alumni group~mostly married---of men. working in business. Hence this diversity of composition permits some comparisons between those with a profes-sional education and those with a general education; be-tween those with previous retreat experience and those with none; between undergraduates versus alumni, strangers versus friends of the ,director, those .familiar with retreats and those who had never made a retreat before. Some of the findings of this study are perhaps obvious. Others are revealing. Still others, while obvious in con-tent, are revealing in the extent and force with which they appear. Some of the general highlights of the study follow: 1. A voluntary closed retreat means many different things to each retreatant; but to all it is a very special event which greatly impresses the college student who makes it, especially if he is making a retreat for the first time

Issue 21.6 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; JOHN XXIII Letter to Religious Women TheI largest church of Christianity is being prepared to receive the fathers of Vatican Council ii. On October 11 will begin the great meeting which has been the object of the prayerful expectation of al! Catholics and We may add of all men of good will. This is a solemn hour in the history of the Church, for it is a matter of stirring up the forces of spiritual renovation which the Church always possesses so that a new dynamism can .be communicated to the activities and the institutions of her age-long history. The clergy are already reciting the Breviary every day in union with Us for the successful outcome of the ecu-menical Council.2 The laity, especially children, the sick, and the old, have frequently been asked to offer prayer and sacrifice for the same purpose; and they have re-sponded with generous promptness. All are eager to offer their help, for the Council is assuming the role of ',a new Pentecost."s In such a climate of zealous preparation it is natural that those should distinguish themselves who have made a total offering of themselves to God and who have given thermelves to the exercise of. fervent prayer and charity. Beloved daughters, the Church has gathered you under her protective mantle; she has approved your constitu-tions; she has defended your rights; she has derived and will continue to derive great benefits from your works. As an expression of gratitude for what you have done up to x This letter, I1 tempio raassimo, is translated from the Italian text as given in Osservatore Romano, July 8, 1962, pp. 1-2. 2Apostolic Exhortation Sacrae. Laudis, January 60 1962, in Acta Apostolicae $edis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 66-75. ~Prayer for the Council in Acta ApOstolicae Sedis, v. ~51 (1959), p. 832. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligious Womtn VOLUME 21, 1962 493 ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS now and as a joyful hope.for your future work, the'words of the Apostle may be deservedly applied to you: ¯. making mention of you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may grant you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the deep knowledge of him: the eyes of your mind being enlightened, so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what the riches of his .inher-itance in the saints. (Eph 1: 15-18). I would ask you to give every consideration to this let-ter; in the words of the humble Vicar of Christ hear what the Divine Master wishes to suggest to each of you. The preparation for the Council demands that the women consecrated to the Lord according to approved canonical forms should reconsider wi~h renewed fervor the duties of their vocation.In this way your response when the enact-ments of the Council are made will be prompt and gener-ous, for it will have been prepared for by a deeply intense endeavor of personal sanctification. In order that life consecrated to God should always cor-respond in the best way possible to the desires of the Divine Heart, it is necessary that it be 1) a life of prayer, 2) a life of example, and 3) a life of the apostolate. THE LIFE OF PRAYER Here Our thoughts turn especially to the nuns and sisters of the contemplative and penitential life. As We re-distributed the candles given to Us on February 2, 1961, the feast of the Presentation of our Lord in the temple, We remarked: The first destination of the candles, religious houses with the strictest rules of mortification and penance, is meant to re-affirm once more the p~:eeminence of the duties of worship and of total consecration to a life of prayer over every other form of apostolate; and at the same time it is meant to emphasize the greatness of vocations to this way of life and the need of vocations to it? This corresponds to a truth that is universally valid even for religious women of a predominantly active life: the interior life is the only foundation and the only soul of every apostolate. All of you should meditate on this truth, you who are rightly called quasi apes argumentosae because of your continual exercise of the fourteen works of mercy in sisterly conjunction with your fellow sisters. So also those of you who are consecrated to God in secular institutes must draw from prayer all the efficacy of your enterprises. Like every other form of societal living, life that is of-fered to the Lord entails difficulties and sacrifices. Only ' Discorsi,Messaggi, Colloqui di Sua Santitd Giovanni XXIlI, v. 3 (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1962), p. 143. prayer will obtain the gift of happy perseverance. The good works to which you are dedicated will not always be crowned with success; disillusionment, misunderstand-ing, ingratitude await you. Without the help of prayer you will not be able to bear up on your difficult road. You should not forget that a misunderstood dynamism can lead you to fall into that "heresy of action" reproved by Our predecessors. If this danger is avoided, then you can be confident that you are truly cooperators in the salvation of souls :and you will add many merits to your reward. All of you, those devoted to the contemplative life as well as those in the active life, should understand the meaning of the expression, "a life of prayer." It does not mean a mechanical repetition of formulas; it is rather the indispensable means of intimacy with our Lord and of a better comprehension of the dignity of the daughters of God and of the spouses of the Holy Spirit, that "gentle Guest of the soul" who speaks to those who know how to listen in recollection. Your prayer should be nourished by the wellsprings of a profound knowledge of Sacred Scripture, especially of the New Testament; it will be further fostered by the liturgy and the teaching of the Church in all its fullness. Holy Mass should be the center of each day in such a way that each action becomes both a prepar~ation and:a thanks-giving for it. Holy Communion is the daily food which will sustain, comfort, and strengthen you. In this way you will avoid the danger of lacking oil for your lamps as did the foolish virgins in the parable. You will find yourselves ready for everything: for glory and for ignominy, for health and for sickness, for continuing your work and for dying--"Behold the bridegroom comes, go out to meet him" (Mt 25:6). And here it will be useful to recall to you once more the often repeated statement of what We consider to be the three fundamental devotions even for the simple faith-ful: "For the understanding and. encouragement of the adoration of Christ, there is nothing better than to con-sider and to invoke Him under the triple light of His Name, His Heart, and His Blood."5 The Name, the Heart, the Blood of Christ: these are the substantial nourishment of a solid life of piety. The Name of Jesusl In all truth, Nil canitur suavius, Nil auditur iucundius, Discourse at the close o[ the Roman Synod in dcta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 52 (1960i, ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. + .John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 Nil cogitatur dulcius, Quam Iesus Dei Filius. Song never was so sweet in ear, Word never was such news to hear, Thought half so sweet there is not one, As Jesus God the Father's Son.6 The Heart of Jesusl In his encyclical "Haurietis Aquas'" of May 15, 1956 (which we recommend to your attentive reflection), Pius XII of venerable memory remarked: If the reasons for devotion to the wounded Heart of Christ ~re duly considered, it should-become clear to all that this is not an ordinary form of piety which one can esteem less than other devotions or regard as a minor matter; rather it is a form of worship perfectly adaptedto lead to the attainment of Chris-tian perfection.~ The Blood of Christi "This is the loftiest sign of the ¯ redemptive sacrifice of Christ which is mystically and really renewed in holy Mass; it gives meaning and orienta-tion to all Christian fife.''s A LIFE OF EXAMPLE These are. the words of Christ: "I have given you an example, that as Ihave done to you, so you also should do" (Jn 13:15). To those who desire to follow the steps of Christ faithfully is presented the practice of the evangeli-cal counsels, "the royal road of Christian sanctification.''6 Poverty Christ was born in a stable; during His public life He had no place to lay His head at night (Mt 8:20); and He died on the naked cross. The first condition that He laid down for those who wish to follow Him was this: "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:2f). You have been drawn by the example and teaching of our Divine Master; you have offered all to Him: "I have offered all these things joyfully" (1 Chr 29:17). It is in the light of the imitation of the poor Christ that your vow receives its full value; daily you must content ~ourself with what is indispensable; what is superfluous you should give under obedience to the poor and to good works; the e Vesper-Hymn of the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus; [the English translation is that of Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.]. ~ dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 48 (19.56)¢ p. 346. 8 Discourse to the Religious Family of the Most Precious Blood, June 2, 1962 (Osservatore Romano, July 3, 1962). e Encyclical Letter Sacerdotii Nostri Primordia in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 51 (1959), pp. 550-51. ~ unknown of tomorrow, sickness, old age--these should be entrusted tO Divine Providence after prudent provisions have been taken. Detachment from the goods of the earth attracts general attention since it shows to all that poverty is neither stingi-ness nor avarice; it makes persons reflect seriously on the divine words: "What profit does a man make by gaining the whole world while losing his soul?" (Mt 16:26). Live your vow or your promise to the full, for it makes you like Him who, though rich, became, poor in order that we might become rich through His poverty (see 2. Cor 8:9). In this matter there will be no lack of temptation such as the seeking of small comforts or satisfacti6n in food or the use of goods. Poverty, as you know, has its thorns which must be painful because they will become the roses of heaven. Again the need for legitimate modernization may be-come excessive by ostentation in construction and equip-ment, matters that have sometimes occasioned comments that were scarcely favorable even if there was no question of the modest rooms of the sisters. But understand this well, beloved daughters; it is not Our intention to say that what is indispensable for physical health and for reason-able and needful recreation is contrary to poverty. Never-theless, may the eye of the Divine Master never be sad-dened by that elegance which can have a negative influence on the interior life of persons consecrated~to. God when they live in surroundings which lack the atmosphere of austerity. Let poverty be held in great honor among all of you. We wish to extend a special word of comfort to clois-tered nuns for whom "sister poverty" often becomes "sister indigence." Christ, the Son of God become poor, will be your consolation. Meanwhile in His name We Ourselves stretch out Our hands for you to your fellow sisters who are in a better economic state and to generous benefactors. We encourage the enterprises begun in this connection by the federations of cloistered nuns under the direction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. And We recall to all of you the divine promise: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God" (Lk 6:20). Angelic Chastity We read in the Gospels how jesus suffered and 'how great were the injuries that afflicted Him. Bu~' from Beth-lehem to Calvary the splendor which radiated from His divine purity always increased and won over the people. So great was the austerity and the charm o[ His deport-ment. So also must you be, beloved daughters. Blessed are the carefulness, the mortifications, and the renunciations ÷ ÷ I~ligious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 497 4. 4. 4. John XXIll with which you seek to make more radiant the virtue about. which Pius XII wrote a memorable encyclical letter.1° Live the lessons of.the encyclical; let your conduct show to all that chastity is not only possible but that it is a social virtue which is forcefully defended by prayer, vigi-lance, and the mortification of the senses. May your example show that your heart is not enclosed in a sterile egoism but that it has chosen the indispensable condition for making itself solicitous for the needs of the neighbor. For this purpose cultivate the rules of good man-ners. We repeat: cultivate and make use of them without paying attention to those who would introduce into your life a mode of behavior less adapted to rightful respect and reserve. In your apostolic works reject the theory of those who do not speak or speak very little of modesty and decency so that there may be introduced into methods of education criteria and orientations in opposition to the teaching of the Sacred Books and of Catholic tradition. Even though on the one hand materialism,.theoretical or practical, is a threat and though on the other hand hedonism and corruption wish to break all barriers, Our soul is restored to serenity by the contemplation of the angelic bands who have offered their chastity and who through their prayer and sacrifice draw down on the erring the marvels of divine mercy in a propitiation of pardon for the sins of individuals and of peoples. Obedience The Apostle St. Paul has developed the theme of the humiliation of Christ made obedient even to the death of the cross (Eph 2:8). In order to follow the Divine Master better, you are bound to Him by a vow or promise of obedience. This continual immolation of one's own "I," this annihilation of one's self, can be very costly; but it is also true that victory lies here (see Prv 21:28), because to this spiritual crucifixion there corresponds heavenly graces for you and for humanity. The teaching of the Church is clear and precise con-cerning the inalienable rights of the human person. The peculiar endowments of each person must be allowed to develop in a fitting way in order that each one may corre-spond with the gifts received from God. All this is a recog-nized thing. But if one passes from respect for the person to the exaltation of personality and to the affirmation of personalism, the dangers become great. There are valu-able directives also for you in the words of Pius XII in his exhortation Menti Nostrae: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Encyclical Sacra Virginittu in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), In an age such as this in which the principle of authority is greatly shaken, it is absolutely necessary that the priest, stand-ing firm on the principles of faith, should consider and accept authority not only as the bulwark of the social and religious orders, but also as the foundation of his own personal sanctifi-cation. 11 At this point Our discussion continues by directing it-self to thbse who have the responsibility and the duty of directing others. Demand the most generous obedience to the rules; but at the same time be understanding toward your fellow sisters; encourage in each the development of natural aptitudes. The duty of superior.s is to make obedi-ence lovable and not to obtain a merely external deference and mu~h less to impose unbearable burdens. Beloved daughters, We exhort all of you to live accord-ing to the spirit of this virtue which is nourished by deep humility, absolute disinterestedness, and complete detach-ment. When obedience has become the program of all of life, then the words of St. Catherine of Siena will be under-stood: "How sweet and glorious is this virtue in which all the other virtues are containedt Obedience, you sail without fatigue and without danger you arrive at the harbor of salvation. You are conformed to the only Son, the Word . ; you set sail in the bark of the holy cross, bringing yourself to remain firm and not to neglect the obedience of the Word nor to abandon His teaching . You are great in your perseverance; you are so great since you stretch from heaven to earth, for heaven is un-locked by you.= THE LIFE OF THE APOSTOLATE St. Paul teaches that the mystery revealed to us by God, the plan conceived from all eternity in Christ and come to realization in Him in the fullness of' time, is this: "To re-establish all things in Christ, both those in heaven and those on earth" (Eph 1:10). No one who consecrates him- .self to the Lord is dispensed from the sublime duty of continuing the salvific mission of the Divine Redeemer. The Church has special and great expectations with re-gard to those who live in the silence of the cloister. Like Moses, they hold their arms uplifted in prayer, conscious that in this suppliant attitude victory is gained. So im-portant is the contribution of religious of the contem-plative. life to tl~e apostolate that as the co-patron of the missions and hence as the equal of St. Francis Xavier Pius XI did not choose a sister of the active life but a Carmelite, St. Theres~ of the Child Jesus. You must be spiritually present to all the needs of the Church militant.' No misfortune, no loss, no calamity ~ Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 662-63. ~Dialogue, c. 155. 4. 4. 4. Religiot~s Woraen VOLUME 21, 1962 499 ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should find. you a stranger. No scientific discovery, no cul-tural meeting, no social or political gathering should make you think: "These are things that do not concern me." May the Church militant perceive your presence wherever there is a request for your spiritual contribution, to the good of souls and also to true human progress .and to universal peace. May the souls in Purgatory receive your suffrages that the beatific vision may come to them more speedily. United to the choirs of the angels and the saints, continue to repeat the eternal Alleluia to the august~ Trinity. Those who are dedicated to the active life should recall that not only prayer but also work will bring it about that the new course of society draws nourishment from the Gospel and that everything be done to the glory of God and for the salvation of souls. Since persons can not be used in the area of schools, of charity, and of assistance, if they are not prepared for the increased needs which modern conditions impose, exert yourselves under obedience to complete your studies and to take a diploma, quick to overcome all difficulties. In this way there will be a higher appreciation not only of your tried and tested ability but also of your spirit of dedica-tion, of patience, and of sacrifice. Moreover, further needs show themselves in the new countries that have entered the community of free nations. Without affection for one's own land being diminished, the entire world, more than in the past, has become our common fatherland. Many sisters have already heard the call. The field is immense. It is useless to lament that the children of this world have arrived before the apostles of Christ. Lamenting solves nothing; what is necessary is to bestir one's self, to anticipate, to be confident. Nor are the sisters dedicated to contemplation excluded from this duty. In some regions of Africa and of the Far East the inhabitants are more attracted by the contem-plative life since it is more congenial to the development of their culture. Some social classes which are more cul-turally advanced regret that the dynamic life of the mis-sionaries can have only a small degree of coincidence with their way of conceiving religion and of adhering to Chris: tianity. Thus you see, beloved, daughters, how great are the motives that lead to the encouragement of national and international meetings of superiors general that have beer; called by the Sacred Congregation of~ Religious. In this way you are enabled to adapt yourselves better to modern conditions, to profit by common experiences, and to con-~, i sole yourselves with the thought that the Church pos-I sesses a valorous throng of persons capable of meeting every obstacle. The consecrated souls of the new secular institutes know that their work is also appreciated; and they are encour-aged to contribute to the penetration of the Gospel into every phase of the mod6rh world: Those in positions of great responsibility should be dis-tinguished by competence, hard work, and a sense of re-sponsibility. They should also be distinguished by the ensemble of virtues that grace builds up lest persons be put in charge whobase themselves only On human wisdom and on the power of economic, scientific, and technical means: "It is in the name of the Lord our God that we are strong" (Ps 19:8). We invite all of you who are souls consecrated to the Lord in the contemplative or the active life to draw close to each other in charity. May the Spirit of Pentecost rest upon your families, uniting them in that oneness of soul which was manifest in the Cenacle where together with the Mother of God and the Apostles pious women were present (Acts 1:14). CONCLUSION These are Our desires, Our prayers, Our hopes. On the vigil of Vatican Council II the Church has summoned all the faithful, proposing to each of them a state of mind of awareness, of testimony, and of courage. Be among the first, beloved daughters, to cultivate a holy enthusiasm. On this point the Imitation of ChriSt has some touching words: We should daily renew our pqrposes and stir ourselves up to greater fervor as though this were the first day of our conver-sion. Each day we should say: "Help, me, my God, in this my good purpose and in Your holy service; and grant that I may now begin this day perfectly; for what I have done up to now is as nothing" (Bk I, c.19). May the Mother of Jesus and our Mother enkindle you with a new fervorl Have trust in your heavenly Mother and at the same time grow in familiarity with her spouse St. Joseph, the patron of Vatican Council II. Pray also to the saints that are held in particular honor in your various institutes in order that they may unite their powerful in-tercession to obtain that "holy Church reunited in unani-mous and intense prayer around Mary the Mother of Christ and guided by Peter may spread the kingdom of the Divine Savior, a kingdom of truth, of justice, of love, and of peace." The apostolic blessing which We impart to all religious communities and to each person consecrated to God is a + + + Religious Women sign of heavenly favor and of encouragement in a life and an activity for good "in the Church and in Christ Jesus" (Eph 3:21). From the Apostolic Vatican Palace, the second day o[ July of the year 1962, the fourth of Our pontificate. JOHN XXlII ÷ + + John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ELIO GAMBARI, S.M.M. Teaching. Sister in, the Church The purposet of my conference will be to indicate the position, function, and mission of the teaching sister in the Church considered as the perfect juridical society founded by our Lord, for the salvation ,and sanctification of souls. Its purpose is also to respond to certain rumors which are spreading in certain places--this does not seem to be the case in France--and which tend to affirm that the teaching sister assumes a role in the Church and in society which does not belong to her but rather pertains to other types of persons. According to this opinion the teaching sister is merely substituting in a task which in normal condi-tions belongs to others. In this pap~er we shall consider not only the sister's right to exist in the Church but also her special position of commitment with its dignity, rights, and egpecially its duties and obligations. In the Church everything, including dignities and rights, is service; indeed, I should rather say that espe-cially dignities and rights are ~services. If the position of the sister in the Church is a special one, then it necessarily follows that this position carries with it correspondingly greater obligations and duties, which impregnate and ab-sorb the life of the religious institute and of the individual religious. Religious life enlists everything to be found in the person who is marked, with the character of religious. It is my opinion that from the matters to be presented here, whether considered individually or collectively, there will spontaneouslyflow important consequences for teaching sisters with respect to their mission in the per- 1This article is translated with permission from the original French entitled "Le mandat de la religieuse enseignante dans l'Eglise!' which appeared in Ecole chrdtienne et monde d'aujourd'hui pub-lished by the Union des Religieuses Enseignantes de France; 20 rue Gay=Lussac; Pads 5, France. Elio Gambad, S.M.M;; Via dei Monfortani 41; Rome 934, Italy, is an official of the Sa-cred Congregation of 'Religious. VOLUME 2"]., 1962 503 l~iio Ga$m.Mba.M~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 spective of the Church; this applies perhaps even more so to superiors, since these have the responsibility of form-ing and guiding religious ,teachers. It is my intention to present this subject from a prin-cipally juridical aspect. In recent years there have been a number of publications which have stressed the theologi-cal and even the mystical aspect of teaching; there is, for instance, the work of Father d'Alzon on the mystique of teaching. But I do not think that the juridical position of the teaching sister in the Church has been sufficiently treated; certainly it has not been treated exhaustively. After recalling that the mission of the Church is to teach and to form followers of Christ, I shall show how this proper mission of the Church is communicated to religious and that they partidipate in this mission by the establishment of the religious institute, by the approbation of the constitutions and rules which direct the life and activity of religious, and by the content of the vows of religion. I shall then consider with you some of the char-acteristics of the mission confided by the Church to teach-ing sisters and shall conclude by emphasizing the conse-quences ¯ that result from this mission. The Teaching Mission of the Church The teaching to which sisters d~dicate their lives is linked to the apostolate and the mission which Christ gave to His Church; moreover, it is linked to the mission of Christ Himself, the divine Teacher. The apostolate of education, taken as a whole in its general aspect, is a mis-sion, a function, a mandate for our Lord, for the Church," and for the religious herself. This assertion is verified first of all in the case of Him who is the Teacher par excellence, the unique Teacher Christ who is given the name of Divine Master. Christ came on earth with a mission of education and of teach-ing; He came to communicate life through knowledge of the Father. "I have come that they may know you, the one true God, and him whom you have sent." Before the judgment seat of Pilate Christ made this statement about Himself: "I have come to give testimony to Truth." The Word of God, since 'He is the consub-stantial Image of the Father, must by His very nature manifest and radiate the Truth; He must transmit the light which emanates from the Father. He has described Himself by saying "I am the truth." Those who follow Him and who have accepted His message are His disciples. Such is the mission of Christ our Lord, a mission of education and of teaching; such also is the mission which He has given the Chu¢ch. When He sent His apostles, how else did He express Himself except" by saying "Go, teach": [i make disciples, communicate the truth? Hence the founder of one of the first institutes of religious dedicated to teach-ing, St. Joseph Calasanctius, has correctly said: "Educators are the fellow laborers of truth"; and another saint has called them "sowers of divinity." This mission of edu~a~iofi and 0f teaching is destined to engender Christ in souls, to communicate to them this substantial Truth. Here let us recall the magnificent definition of teaching given by Pope Pius XI in 'the en-cyclical Divini Illius Magistri: the continuation of the Incarnation of Christ in souls. . Even a rapid glance at the rich collection of pontifical documents which treat of education will show us that the educative mission of the Church is presented as a gener-ating of Christ, as a formation of the Christian by a com-munication to him of divine life and of the charity which should inflame the whole world and thus bring truth to realization by means of this charity. The educative mission of the Church is based on her power of teaching and on her maternal, role. The Church, whom we frequently call "holy Mother Church," is essen-tially maternal; as such she is also an educator. Is not education one of the duties that result from maternity; is it not the prolongation of motherhood? In the same way in the case of the Church, her function and m~ssion of edu(ation is the prolongation of her maternal mission. This mission which the divine Founder gave to the Church in which He wished to perpet~Jate HimSelf shows the Chux~ch to us in her~ double aspect of a mystical organ-ism and of a juridical organism, as the mystical Christ and the juridical Christ perpetuated in a permanent way through the course of time by the Church as Pius XII has told us in so masterl~ a way in the encyclical Mystici Cor-poris. From this educative role and mission the Church de-rives her rights and duties. All of us of the present time know the pressing necessity she is under to defend her rights and prerogatives in the area of teaching. Canon 1375 at~irms the right of the Church not only to teach and preach religion but also to found schools of every type; the Church maintains this not as a privilege nor as a substitu-tional function when others fail their duty but as an innate right by virtue of her foundation and of her role. History confirms the exercise of this right by the Church. She it was who has maintained culture in the world, even under its civic.fispects. It has been she who founded and approved universities--theology at Paris, law at Bologna, medicine at Montpellier. All these universities have an ecclesial character. This is important, for even today the Church exercises ÷ ÷ ÷ Th~ Teaching Sister VOLUMI~ 21, 1962 505 ÷ ÷ ElioGamba~ S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506 her right of teaching and of founding schools of every type. This right she exercises in great part through re-ligious institutes. By means of these institutes which serve her as ministers, the Church has her own schools with a completely ecclesial character; they are schools not of the state nor even of families but of the Church herself. And the Church communicates her own rights to the men and women by whom she accomplishes her mission. All of this shows that the Church's right to teach and to educate is not limited to religious instruction in the proper sense Of that word but also extends to all other matters the purpose of which is the formation of the spirit, of the heart, and of the will; it includes everything which is a means to charity and to love. Other papers of this convention have spoken to you compellingly, instructively, and ardently of the way to construct and rebuild the world and of the way to radiate the message of Christ in the world. This radiation and this reconstruction are not done merely by religious instruction in the strict sense of the word but by a religious instruc-tion that permeates all other matters. Every ray of truth, every treasure of goodness and beauty comes from God and leads back to God; it is by reason of this treasure of truth and goodness that one can lead the world to God. The philosopher Antonio Rosminl has written magnifi-cent pages on this aspect of education and on that unity of education which seeks to insert man and the Christian into the divine plan.2 It is this final!ty that justifies the Church's presence in schools of every kind from the pri-mary level up through the university. The place of the Church in education is linked to her authority. The teaching given by the Church is not merely a statement of the truth; it is rather a presentation of the truth made with authority but without violating con-sciences. Men speak of respect for freedom of conscience; the Church desires that the acceptance of the message of Christ be consciously voluntary; otherwise there can be neither education nor formation. The Church's right to instruct is connected with her power of jurisdiction which includes the two aspects of teaching and of ministry. But the Church instructs by presenting her truth in a way in which it will be accepted. She must prepare the human mind to welcome the truth; for these minds are made for truth as the will and the heart are made for goodness. It is the work of the Church and of those who represent the Church to present truth in ~ Antonio Rosmini, Sulla unittl dell'educazione (Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 1913). a way that corresponds to the exigencies of the mind and the needs of the heart. Communication of the Church's Mission Even when she takes into.account all the Earying de-grees of ministers in the hierarchy of orders and of juris-diction, the Church finds herself unable to attain by her-self an integral realization of her teaching mission. She must then--and this is so especially at the present time-- have recourse to the assistance of her other members. In our own times how providential has been the appeal to the laity to collaborate with the Church and to feel them-selves united in the action of the Church as participants in the mission of the Church. If she used only the hier-archy, how could the Church exercise among all nations her entire teaching function of formal religious training and of Christian formation by means of general teaching? Let us here recall that the Church seeks the aid and collaborati6n of other persons in a twofold way. First of all, the Church stresses the duties which flow from the natural law. So, for example, with regard to the family, it pertains to the parents to pro~)ide their children with an education. The Church calls them to fulfill this ob-ligation and to exercise their inalienable and pressing rights. Perhaps we too easily forget that families have an obligation to obtain for their children an education and that a Christian one. Besides this, the Church recalls the duty which devolves on every Christian as a result of baptism and confirmation'. Every Christian has the d~ity of radiating God, of making God known. Karl Marx, I believe, once said: "It is easy to be a saint if one is not solidary with society, if one does not feel responsible for society." What is true for every man in so far as he is social is particularly true for every member of (he Mystical Body. Each one is bound to the others by reason of baptism and confirmation. In an important text St. Thomas declares that "the con-firmed by reason of his state has the obligation of making the Church kno~vn, of defending her, and of spreading the doctrine of the Church." This is why the Church faces each Christian with his duty to collaborate. She emphasizes the consequences of baptism and of confirmation; and natu-rally she urges these consequences especially in the case of those whose situation permits them to aid her more easily. This is the reason why she.insists so solicitously that all Catholic educators be faithful to their baptismal com-mitments. These commitmems, it is true, are proper to all Christians; but among educators the practical possi-bilities are much greater. All Catholic educators, no .mat-ter at what level they teach, precisely because they are ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 5O7 + ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS Catholic, should feel th~ obligation they.have to exercise their educative charge for the purpose of aiding the Church to realize her mission. I state this here because it is highly important that re-ligious teachers, when .preparing future teachers, should recall this fundamental duty of every Christian without consideration of membership in this or that association. It is not Only the teachers and other instructors belonging to organizations of Catholic Action who are bound to exercise the apostolate of teaching; every'teacher and every professor is so bound. Religious who form teachers must show them their special responsibility for this com-munication of truth and of Christian truth. There is a duty to radiate truth, divine.truth. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has recalled to us the missionary character of the school; the foregoing is an occasion to realize, propagate, and radiate this missionary character. The Church has recourse to the cooperation of the laity by giving them a particular charge, by conferring on them a mission and a responsibility, and by making them sharers in her own mission and rights. There is no doubt that the Church can commfinicate to others ithe mission that is proper to herself. This she does through the various de-grees of the hierarchy which are of ecclesiastical institu-tion. Nevertheless, the Church's power of delegating her proper mission is not limited to persons engaged in the hierarchy of jurisdiction or orders. She can also com-municate it to other persons without at the same time mak-ing them enter the hierarchy. It is in this way that she calls the laity to participate in her mission and hence to act and to teach in the name of the Church. The Church realizes this communication by making use of the riches of the kind of priesthood given to every Christian in baptism. To the title proper to baptism there is added a further title which unites itself to that of Christian and which is given to the Christian by the Church. It would be disastrous to build up in the Church an almost impregnable wall between the hierarchy and the faithful as though the hierarchy were the only active element and the faithful were p.urely passive. All of us know that according to the divine will a difference exists between clerics and laity, between :the various members of the hierarchy and those who are not part of the hier-archy. There can be no question of making the Church a democracy; nevertheless, those who are not members of the hierarchy do not form an exclusively passive element. Every Christian must be active; and, in some cases, the Church adds a further title to the activity of every Chris-tian. About this possibility of delegation there can be no doubt. On October 5, 1957, during the Congress of the ~.Apostolate of the Laity,' Plus XlI clarified once and for all this possibilityof communicating to the laity a mis-sion, a mandate, a canonical mission. "It is the same canonical mission," he said, "that the Church wishes to communicate to priests and to lay persons; but it'is exer-cised by the former in so far as they are priests; it will be exercised by lay persons in so far as they are lay persons."8 This communication of the Church's proper mission to lay persons can be realized in different degrees. In the Church there is a providential and.remarkable variety of forms. The Church is a living ~and fecund reality; she pos-sesses within herself an abundance of riches which she manifests in the course of history according to the needs of the times and of the persons she must lead to God."Ac-cordingly the teaching mission, of the Church can be com-municated tO lay persons in a greater or lesser degree, (When I speak of a lesser degree, I have no intention of minimizing the role of those who participate in the mis-sion of the Church in a limited degree. Every vocation in the Church is excellent and we must avoid comparisons for they are always odioug.) The lesser degree is that which the Church entrusts to lay persons who juridically remain in the position of simple lay persons. The fact that they are invited to work with the Church does not separate them from other lay persons; it does ,not make them a special class in the Church. They rerfiain lay persons liv-ing in the world under the same conditions as the other faithful. Nevertheless, one can say--I am thinking here espe-cially of Catholic Action organizations--that the Church adds a new title to that which these Catholics already possess as private persons. They possess their private title as well as a title given, to them by civil authority for the exercise of the profession of teaching. (When I speak here of civil authority I am referring to the area in which civil authority is competent; unfortunately we all know from experience that it can exceed its competency.) Civil au-thority for the sake of the public good can organize the preparation required for the exercise of certain functions. To this title which lay persons possess the Church adds a supplementary title, an ecclesial one, which, as I have said, does not remove them from their fundamental con-dition. Their association with the educative mission of the Church is, let us say, a generic one; it involves a part of their time and Of their capabilities; it ennobles their work and gives them a certain representativeness of the Church. s Les Lai'ques dam l'Eglise. Documents du DeuxiOme Congr~s Mon-dial pour l'Apostolat des Lai'ques, Rome, 5"13 octobre, 1957. V. 1, pp. 14-16. + + + The Tea~hlng Sister VOLUME 21, 19(:,2 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In the Congress on the Lay Apostolate which I.have al-ready mentioned, Cardinal Montini in the course of a conference treated the different degrees of ecclesial repre-sentativeness conferred on lay persons; he emphasized the role which they.possess o[ representing the Church in a more or less varied way according to the varying ecclesial context. One must not think that a member of Catholic Action is representing the Church in all his actions and in all his different activities. The Cardinal also emphasized the fact that the repre-sentative role of lay persons is proportioned to the ec-clesiastical character of the profession and of .their activ-ity; they are not representative of the Church in everything and for everything. A Catholic professor, for example, is not the representative of the Church in his other activi-ties; he possesses an ecclesial personality which is limited to a determined sphere and to a special sector; in other words he possesses a mandate. Even here the degree of representativeness is not always the same; and the passage from ecclesial representativeness to individual activity is a gradual one. On different occasions the ~sembly of the Cardinals and Archbishops of France have clearly deline-ated the mandate that is given to lay persons; likewise. Pius XII spoke of the mandate conferred on Catholic Action: "Carry. out the mandate which the Church has given to the members of Catholic Action." Here again there is question of a mandate which leaves lay persons in their proper situation; it organizes them indeed into a juridical entity, but this entity is not so profound or so absorbing as to change their condition. The mandate of collaboration with the Church which is conferred on the members of Catholic Action, while it is a true mandate, yet does not transform their juridical condition: they re-main private persons. Over and beyond this lesser degree of representativeness of the Church there is a greater degree given to lay per-sons; it involves a greater degree of association with the teaching mission of the Church; it is the degree given to religious who are destined and consecrated to education. To these the Church communicates a mandate and a mis-sion which makes them share her proper mission in the highest degree possible short of entrance into the ranks of the hierarchy. I would almost say that teaching religious reach to the very limits of the hierarchy. Nevertheless, we must .not be presumptuous and desire to enter the hierarchy. However, religious devoted to edu-cation are completely invested with an ecclesial function; by this fact they become representatives of the Church--, always and in all their actions and activities. In the action and activities of religious we can not introduce the dis- tinctions which can be made in the case of ordinary lay persons. Since they are entirely consecrated to the mission of the Church, they are completely invested with this ec-clesial representation; they no longer work as private per-sons called by reason of their profession to aid the Church and to collaborate with her in cert~iin ways according as time and the dutiesof their state in life permit. Religious, however, have only one duty in their state of life: to work for the Church and in the name of the Church. Religious do not merely have one title which is added to another; rather their title and their rights are conferred on them entirely by the Church. Both in educa-tion and in teaching they possess a mandate given them by. the Church, and the juridical position they enjoy is entirely communicated to them by the Church. This does not exclude the fact that to this ecclesial title there may be added other titles; for example, that given them by families. Families have the right to choose the educators of their children; hence they can choose re-ligious. In this case the family communicates its rights to these religious. Nevertheless, their fundamental right remains the one communicated to them. by the Church herself. So also the state can give a title to religious, but tills will always be a secondary one. The right of religious to teach depends neither on the will of the parents nor on the will of the state. We realize, of course, that parents have a right to teach and this independently of the Church. Religious teaching goes back to the Church who communicates her rights and her obligations to religious as her ministers. Accordingly religious are invested with a mission and a mandate that is totally ecclesial; it is such at every moment and in every circumstance. The teaching done by religious is performed in the Church for the good of the Church in the name of the Church. Religious, let it be repeated, are invested with the very personality of the Church. It is the Church, a per-fect society and a juridical one, that teaches and instructs through them. This should be clearly fixed in the minds both of superiors and of teaching religious. Perhaps some may think that I insist overly much on the idea that religious have an ecclesial mandate. I think, however, that it is fundamental because all their obliga-tions and r!ghts flow therefrom. Their responsibility is rooted in this communication of a mandate, in this ec-clesial function which, as I have said, becomes their whole reason of existence. They do not contribute their, hours of time accordingly as their taste impels them to their work; they are not their own masters; they belong to the Church and precisely for this function. They have a moral and juridical obligation in conscience to be at the disposi- + + + The Teaching Si~ter VOLUME 21, 1962 511 ÷ ÷ ÷ llliO Gambarl, S.M .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion of the Church and to perform everything that the Church demands of them. One can and should apply to teaching religious the magnificent remark of Pius XII to hospital religious at the Congress of 1957: "It is the Church that supports the feeble steps of the old." And the Pope went on to give an almost poetic description of the Church which in the per-. son of the hospital sister assists the dying, the newly born, the aged; this description the Pope repeated in his great encyclical Sacra Virginitas. Pius XII was a poet but also a jurist. What the Pope said on these occasions to hospital. religious is also true of all religious and of teaching re-ligious in particular. While charitable assistance, hospital or social, can be assumed by other organizations, religious formation can not be; it is proper to the Church. Hence the statement made by the Pope should be given a'juridi-cal justification; we must show its juridical foundation. The Juridical Foundation One can well ask how the teaching.religious becomes invested with a mandate; furthermore what arethe juridi-cal foundations of this mandate? To this we reply that the religiousis invested with a mandate because his institute has been established by the Church, because the constitu-tions and rules have been approved by the Church, and because the religious vows, since they are public, have been received by the Church. Establishment oI the .Religious Institute Religious institutes are juridical organizations formally founded by the Church for a definite apostolic purpose. The true founder of a religious institute is not this or that mother, or this or that saint. The formal founder is the Church; she is therefore for us holy Mother Church in a double sense. Founders only prepare the matter to which the Church gives the breath of life. The whole pur-pose of these institutes is entirely ecclesial; this purpose gives them an existence that is not a private matter but a public one; consequently their ,existence touches on the fundamental constitution of the Church. The juridical existence given by the Church to a re-ligious family is different in nature from the one she gives to pious ~issociations or unions of the faithful. One can say, I believe, wittiout fear of denial, that the establish-men~ of a religious institute has cfose analogies with the establishment of a diocese in the sense that the Church is territorially organized for all persons on the basis of dioceses while for some of these persons she is organized on the basis of religious institutes. A religious institute is not a mere spontaneous and free grouping either in its foundation or in its continued ex-istence; once the institute has been established and once one has entered it, one finds oneself linked with a juridi-cal organization which is obligatory both from the view-point of conscience and that of the society as such. While a member of an organization, of a confraternity, or even of Catholic Action, can withdraw for personal reasons without any obligation of giving an account of his de-cision to anyone, this is not the case for religious. They have entered a state that is intimately fundamental to the Church; they no longer belong to themselves but to the Church. It is important to note that a religious institute is not an organization of merely personal and individual perfec-tion and sanctification. The religious institute has a pub-lic function in the Church; it is the. official, juridical, public expression of the holiness of the Church. And it is remarkable to contemplate how in the course of centuries religion, pertaining as it does to individual and public perfection, has enriched itself with the fundamental and basic element that is the apostolate and how it has given rise to religious families essentially consecrated to holiness and the apostolate. This is especially interesting here in France where were born the first religious institutes of women consecrated to the apostolate: the different congregations of the Ursu-lines; the canonesses of St. Augustine of St. Peter Fourier; the Congregation of Religious of Notre Dame of St. Joan de Lestonnac; as well as many others. Besides it was in France that there grew up the congregations which have spread throughout the entire world (for example, the Daughters of Charity, the~ Sisters of St. Joseph). All of these are the first and highly significant examples of these institutes of holiness and the apostolate. What I wish to emphasize at this point is that in these institutes the apostolate is not an accessory, accidental, and secondary element; it is an essential one and as prin-cipal as is the pursuit of perfection. Moreover, this ele-ment of the apostolate shares fully in the institute's public and ecclesial character. The fact that the Church erects an institute for perfection and for the apostolate confers an entirely ecclesial character and mission on the institute. The document that establishes a teaching religious in-stitute determines its finality and its purpose by har-moniously combining the sanctification of its members and the apostolic ideal of education. The juridical ex-istence and character conferred on the institute are shared in by the mission which is assigned it. The apostolate of the institute shares in the juridical nature of the institute itself. Religious life in an institute destined for the apos-÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 tolate is a consecration to God both in perfection and in the apostolate; it is both a state of perfection and a state of the apostolate. Take, for example, the constitutions of the Ursulines, of the religious of the Assumption, and oI other teaching institutes; in them is to be found this fun-damentally apostolic element given them by the Church in such a way that these, institutes and these religious have their whole purpose of existence in this mission. Approbation of the Constilutions The Church not only gives an institute its juridical ex-istence but she also governs it, gives it rules and constitu-tions which derive their force not from the general chap-ter nor from the superior general but from the Church. Hence when the constitutions impose teaching, (t is the Church which imposes it. In this case teaching is not a private initiative stemming from the institute and its members; it is rather an imposition made by the Church, an imposition which may have been requested but which nevertheless does not cease to be a thing that comes from above. This is true to the extent that whatever religious do, they do by reason of a title communicated to them from above; that is, from the.Church. The constitutions, once they have received pontifical approval, become pon-tifical law. One Can and must say that the contents of these laws receive an ecclesial character. The document that establishes the institute and its con-stitutions brings it about that an ecclesial mandate and a canonical mission to teach is given to the institute and that through the institute it passes to the individual mem-bers. The activity of religious is not .left to their personal choice; it is entirely ruled by authority--by an authority that is not private in nature. The Holy Father Plus XII in his discourse to superiors general on February I 1, 1958 --and this applies also to all superiors--stated: "You govern with an authority that I have giyen you; you share in my authority." Accordingly, it is the authority of the Church that regulates the matter of teaching. Public Vows Let me now consider a third point which also illustrates that ecclesial character which perhaps was better ex-pressed in former times by the fact that institutes dedi-cated to teaching wanted from their origin to have a spe-cial vow of education. Thus ihe Ursulines, the canonesses, the Brothers of the Christian Schools took a vow to conse-crate themselves to teaching. This vow was a public one like the other vows of religion; hence it was accepted by the Church, sanctioned by the Church, offered to God ifil the name of the Church, and--what is most important-~ lived in the name of the Church. This vow expressed the public and ecclesial character of teaching. At the present time this public vow is not explicitly expressed because it is contained in the vow of obedience. Teaching is one of the principal elements of the vow of obedience. In teaching institutes 6he promises obedience above all with regard to being employed in teaching. This is true to such an extent that the articles of the constitu-tions which.concern teaching are not articles which simply oblige one to assume certain obligations; they are ,articles that touch the very purpose of the institute and which oblige in conscience; they regulate the specific purpose of the institute. Religious who have made a vow of obedi-ence are bound by reason of their religious profession to devote themselves to teaching. It is interesting to note how in the history of religious life of apostolic institutes a phenomenon took place that is identical with what hap-pened in the case of contemplative institutes. In their profession ceremonies nuns dedicated to prayer receive the book of the Divine Office in order that they might pray in the name of the Church. What has happened in the case of apostolic institutes? These religious are given the constitutions; through this they are given the children and all those who will benefit by their teaching; the result is that at profession there is realized for each member what was realized for the institute as such at the moment of its establishment and of the approval of its constitu-tions. It is at the moment of profession that the superior gives to the new religious the book of the constitutions and the mandate to work in the name of the Church; the religious is thus consecrated to God in and through teach-ing. The vow of obedience and its entire content gi~ie to the profession a public character; hence the apostolate of teaching also becomes public, exercised, that is to say, in the name of the Church. In the encyclical Sacra Virginitas the Holy Father extols the motherhood of religious who receive in trust young Christian generations to form them in the name of the Church or, better, to continue and de-velop the virginal fecundity of the Church herself. I have recently been reading an interesting study which develops the. comparison between the Church and the Blessed Virgin, between the Church and the religious, in their role of forming Christians. Pontifical Statements These fundamental juridical arguments have been re-echoed in numerous pontifical statements that present teaching religious as collaborators of the Pope. Plus XII at the Congress of Teaching Religious in 1951 thanked ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 515 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 516 the members for the valuabl.e work of collaboration they give to the Vicar of Christ. The same Pope at the beatifica-tion of Rose Venerini recalled a remark of Clement XI to the future Blessed: "Madame Rose, you are helping Us to fulfill Our task and you are doing what We could not do by Ourselves; for this We thank you greatly." These words of Clement XI to Rose Venerini have been repeated on numerous occasions by sovereign pontiffs with regard to religious devoted to education. In a document of 1954 concerning teaching brothers sent by the Pope to Cardinal Valeri, the charge and the role confided to teaching re-ligious are emphasized. One could assemble a magnifi-cent anthology of such pontifical declarations relating to the association of teaching religious with the action of the Church, to the work they accomplish for the Church, and to the gratitude of the sovereign pontiffs who have said among other things: "What would We do without you?" Indeed, if religious should one day wish to call a strike in their schools, it is my belief that the greater part of Catholic establishments would be closed. But let us limit ourselves to a few texts: How could the Church have been able in past times to fully accomplish her mission without the help that hundreds of thousands of religious have given so zealously in the fields of education and of charity? How Could she do so in our own time? (Allocution of October 15, 1951). Thanks to the work of your motherly hands., the Church sustains the feebleness of old age; thanks to the tenderness of your hearts, she rekindles the souls of little orphans; and thanks to the ardor of your devotion, she assists the sick . " (Allocution of April 24, 1957). The Church then counts upon you as the appropriate in-struments which priests should use for the perfect formation of young womanhood (Allocution of January 3, 1958). The actual teaching of the Church puts special emphasis on the ecclesial char~icter of the religious; in and through her the Church realizes her purpose, communicates life, and fulfills the work of Christ her Spouse (Sacra Virginitas). Mission of the Teaching Religious Now I wish to emphasize briefly for you certain char-acteristics of the mission which religious have received {tom the.Church. This mission has a juridical, public, pontifical charac-ter. This sharing in the very mission of the Church is given to the religious not by the pastor who requests her for teaching catechism nor even from the bishop; it is given to her by the Pope, the Vicar of Christ. But since everything in the Church should be done according to order, this mission given to religiom by the Pope may be exercised in a territory only with the consent and ratifica-tion of the authority represented by the pastor of the diocese who, in accepting the community, g!ves it the freedom to exercise its work of the apostolate.4 The character of the mission, then, is pontifical; but it must be coordinated with the apostolate of the diocese. And here it is right to make religious realize the necessity of not being a closed city but rather an intense center of collaboration with all the apostolic activities of the dio-cese. It is necessary that each Teligious house be a source Of~ the apostolate not only within itself but around itself. Consequences I turn now to the consequences that flow from the mis-sion conferred on teaching religious by the Church. The first consequence is that the mission of the reli-gious is ecclesial and spiritual, Even if from an exterior viewpoint a religious seems to exercise a profession, this is only an external mark and appearance; interiorly the religious is an apostle; she represents the Church; she ex-ercises a ministry. This is wh~ Plus XII stated that teach-ing is a kind of priesthood and that the teaching religious participates in a certain sense in the priesthood (Allocu-tion of January 4, 1954). And Saint John Baptist de la Salle, who forbade his brothers to become priests since everyone in the Church has his own Cole and comparison should not be made among them, reminded the brothers that teaching is like a priesthood; in a.magnificent medi-tation (number. 195) he applied to teaching brothers everything that the Apostle said about the sacred min-ister: "You are the .dispensers of the mysteries of God; you communicate the bread of the word of God.''5 Like the minister of the altar, the educator breaks the bread of the word of God; he prepares Christian life, the meeting and communion with God. This character also marks the teaching of so-called profane matters. The teaching religious carries on the apostolate in and through teaching. Profane matters are not merely occa-sions for the apostolate of a teaching religious; the teach-ing of such is itself an apostolate. The Church has only an apostolic finality; and this is the ultimate purpose of a Christian school. The second consequence is that the religious has no personality other than the personality of the Church. Greatness implies duties; hence she must always act as befits this personality of the Church. Hence comes the ' See canon 497~ § 2. s See Fr. Michel Sauvage, F.Sc.X., "Finalit~ ~postolique de notre Institut d'apr~s les M~ditations pour le temps de la Retraite," in Bulletin des Frdres des Ecoles Ghrdtiennes, October, 19ill, pp. 131--43. 4. 4. 4" The Tea~hbtg Sister VOLUME 2I, 1962 517 4. 4. ÷ l~lio Gamba~i, S.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIG|O~JS 518 striking difference between secular teaching and religious teaching. The first is done by reason of a personal or par-ticular title in the name of the family or in the name of the state; the second has no other personality save that which is given by the Church. Hence it is that the sector of work is limited for religious, that their way of devoting themselves to teaching is subject to restraints. It is under-standable that superiors are sometimes embarrassed by this; and it may happen that they are heard to say: "Our state as religious, the framework of religious life, seems to be a hindrance in certain cases." This is possible; but is not such a disadvantage on the natural and professional level slight when compared to the immense benefit de-rived from their ecclesial character and when compared to the charge of personifying the Church in the exercise of the~teaching profession? To this title of representing the Church there may be added other ones: the charge entrusted to them by the parents who have the right to choose their own substitutes as the educators of their children; the charge entrusted by civil society. If there are elements of the religious life which consti-tute by their nature a hindrance and an obstacle to the. efficacy of education, then there is place for the appli-cation of the counsels of renovation and adaptation. We can not demand that students fit into our religious life; it is the responsibility of religious to adapt themselves to concrete circumstances in those things which concern their students. If properly understood, this can be done without sacrificing or eliminating the constitutix~e ele-ments of religious life. In any case the central idea here is this: the activity oi~ religious is not a profession; it is a kind of priesthood.; it is a ministry, an ecclesial one, which carries with it all the greatness and the responsibility proper to the educative ministry of the Church. The third consequence is that the religious has the right to teach, a right that is given by the Church. Anyone who attacks this right of religious and who hinders the exercise of this right, attacks the Church and the rights of the Church. Numerous documents show us that the Popes have intervened to defend religious and Catholic schools as pertaining to inalienable rights of the Church. One can not touch Catholic schools or teaching religious without touching the Church. One of the lessons of history is that those who wish to fight the Church begin by fighting teaching religious. This has happened in different countries and I have no doubt that it will happen again. The reason for this is that teaching religious in their teaching really radiate the . action.of the Church. Whoever possesses youth, possesses society; and whoever possesses society, possesses the state. Hence religious, since they have youth in their schools, exercise a definite influence on al! of society. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has reminded us of the need there is for religious who are capabl~ of teaching religion. According to canon 1373, § 2 those who attend secondary and. higher schools are to be instructed in Christian doctrine; the ordinaries are to see to it that this mission is fulfilled by zealous and well-prepared priests. Does this canon exclude teaching religious arid brothers from the teaching of religion? In their schools is it the work of priests to give the courses in religion? Not at all. Speaking personally and as one who teaches law, I would say that this rule does .not apply formally to institutions which are held by men and women religious. The insti-tutes of teaching religious have been established and or-ganized by the Church primarily for the teaching of re-ligion; it is this that they are bound to in the first place; for this their members must be prepared in a special way. This does not mean that they can teach independently of the bishop, for it is he who gives or confirms their man-date. The bishop, having accepted teaching religious, should not look elsewhere for teachers of religion if these religious meet the demands of religious teaching. The in-stitutes are thereby obliged to fulfil the necessary condi-tions, and the bishop has the right and duty to control how religion is taught in the schools held by religious in his diocese.~ A fourth and very important consequence is the re-sponsibility that flows from all this for religious. If they share in the mission of the Church, they also bear all her responsibility. It may sometimes happen that we forget that we are not sealed-off compartments in the Church, cells separated from all the rest. On the contrary, we exist as a function of the entire Church; if the personality of the Church is communicated to us, this involves not only all her rights but all her duties as well. Superiors and the sisters themselves can truly say that they carry on their shoulders the weight of the entire Church. This is not merely a manner of speaking; it is a reality which results from their universal mandate. The religious has a re-sponsibility that surpasses the limits of the parish and of the diocese to extend to the extremities of the earth; she has assumed the educative responsibilities.of the Church. Superiors as well as subjects must come to a realization of this responsibility which includes mission, duties, and rights. From this flows a fifth consequence: the serious re-eSee canon 13~6, 1381, §§ 2-3. + + + The Tearhing Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 519 Elio Gambari, $.M .M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 520 sponsibility that superiors have to provide for the forma-tion of true educators. It is not a question of preparing only young religious who are goo~t and delicate in con-science but who have only a rudimentary training for the task which awaits them. It is rather a question of forming servants of the Chur'ch who ought to respond to the needs and necessities of the entire Church. Greatness involves duties; and the. prestige of the Church herself is at stake. Pope Pius XII has enjoined us to see that the religious school is not inferior to other schools but rather superior to them even from the technical and professional view-point. And is it not the teacher above all that makes the superiority of a school? To give to a teacher the interior and exterior prestige .due to professional worth is a mis-sion interior to culture itself. We all rightly lament the decline in religious vocations; but it may be asked whether besides a numerical lack there is not also an insufficiency of quality. One of the best ways of increasing vocations is first of all to utilize to the utmost and to make the most of those whom the Lord has already sent. If superiors know how to communicate this ideal, to the young subjects who present themselves to their communities and if they succeed in organizing for them a program of formation which corresponds to the needs of the mission to be performed, the results will recompense the efforts expended. They will have placed at the disposition of the Church riches and forces of the utmost importance. We are all aware what the Church demands of religious in the matter of formation and how she is always developing and improving the course pre-paratory to the sacred ministries. The complaint is made that there are no vocations; but if we make an examina-tion of conscience, it can be asked whether there are not enough vocations because teaching is not sufficiently ecclesial. In one of his allocutions Pius XII stated: "One mark of the teaching that truly corresponds to the direc-tives of the Church is that it arouses vocations. When you have religious and priestly vocations in your schools, then you are sure that your teaching is truly ecclesial." But there is another aspect I would like to emphasize. It is true that there is a lack of vocations; but do we channel and utilize the vocations we possess? I am not speaking of physical powers, but of moral forces, intel-lectual and moral values and capacities. There will always be a disproportion with the needs of the school today and with the necessities that must be met. But what is im-portant is that superiors act in such a way that the reli-gious who have entered the institute at the call of God and of the Church should find themselves in the possi-bility of self-development and of giving to the institute, to. the Church, and to souls everything of which they are capable. For this it is necessary to educate them and to develop in them everything which they are capable of giving. I believe--and this is an entirely personal remark that we have not sufficiently formed our religious in their spiritual, apostolic, and professional aspects. His Excel-lency Bishop Ancel has told us of the duty of the cultural apostolate through one's profession. It is necessary that religious should have in the name of the Church and to give prestige to the Church a prestige from the cultural and professional aspect. How is it possible to conceive that persons who work and who study in order to improve their professional standing or for a higher salary should be superior from the professional viewpoint to persons who teach because of the love of God and of souls? But unfortunately it happens that we do not take sufficient account of cultural prestige. I do not mean that external prestige to which perhaps too much account is taken; I am referring to that interior richness which is so impor-tant and which ennobles your schools and the Church her-self. Conclusion I shall conclude my conference by saying that the ecclesial mission confided to religious is the continuation on earth of the mystery of the Incarnation; hence it is a prolongation throughout the course of the centuries of the role of the Blessed Virgin with regard to the Savior and to the Church. There is no Christian life that should not be marial. In particular does not the religious edu-cator find in the Virgin Mother an ideal example of her own vocation? She is more than an example, for she is the first educator and teacher, the one who has given us substantial Truth, the incarnate Word of God, the Truth of God. In the constitution Sedes Sapientiae the Pope held up before the eyes of those who form others as well as before the eyes of those who are to be formed the radiant image of the holy Virgin, the Seat of Wisdom, the Throne of the incarnate Word; she it is who, although not pertaining to the hierarchy, received from God the mission to give us the Word, the consubstantial Utterance; and it is still she who wishes to continue this mission through the work of each teaching institute and in each teaching religious. ÷ ÷ + The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 19~,2 521 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Psychological Needs in The Religious Context Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The strictest of religious orders have always agreed that their members must eat, drink, and ~'elax. Congregations may vary in the amount and quality of the food, beverage, and recreation they permit, but they are of one mind in principle: men and women have bodily needs that must be met; and if they are not met, nature will have its venge-ance. But we are not so well assured that religious commu-nities are fu!ly aware that their members have psychologi-cal needs every bit as real as their corporeal ones. We are not confident that even given the high contemporary in-cidence of mental disordel~s and the widespread popular literature dealing with man's psychological ailments, our present day religious men and women really grasp the concept of mental needs. And if this lack of confidence is realistically based, we are justified in suggesting that the psychological needs of priests, brothers, and sisters are often not met or at least are not met in as happy a way as we might hope. The Problem The mere experience of living some years in a religious community and especially the experience of working with the spiritual problems of consecrated souls make clear the fact that man does not live by bread alone. Only too fre-quently does one who works with religious meet persons who are beset with serious problems with apparently in-tangible roots, problems that are not due to physical ill-ness nor to a dislike for the religious life as such nor to ill will nor to difficulty with the vows. Unless he cuts off a full discussion by the prompt and pat solution, he will often find that the problem is due to poor adjustment in the community or to a lack of security or to inferiority feel-ings or to a whole collection of assorted fears or to an un-satisfied hunger for affection. And this is to say that the problem is psychogenic. A man or woman does not have to be neurotic or psychotic in order to suffer from psychologi-cal malnutrition. Just as the human person can be under-nourished in the bodily sense without being therefore seriously ill, so can he be underfed in the mental and emo-tional sense without being seriously deranged. But the similarity can be pushed a step .further. Just as prolonged and marked malnutrition.can issue in grave illness on the physical level, so can it on the mental. However, we are not directly concerned in this study with serious mental illness. We are not even concerned with illness as such. We are concerned with the simple fact that religious priests, brothers, and sisters have psychological needs in common with the rest of men, needs that must be satis-factorily met within the context of their vocations if they are to function normally, happily, and holily. Whence Psychological Needs? Only an imperfect being experiences need. This is so because need bespeaks a lack of something due: comple-mentation, aid, perfection. God does not need because He is the fullness of perfection. Man needs because he is in-herently imperfect, limited by his potencies. Man needs on three levels because he is subject to three types of imper-fection or limitation: physical, psychological, supernatu-ral. His eating, drinking, working, recreating are remedial of his physical needs. His prayers, reception of the sacra-ments, practice of the virtues are aimed at satisfying his supernatural deficiencies. He can grow normally on nei-ther of these two levels unless these needs and deficiencies are met. The same must be said of his psychological perfectibil-ity. Man is mentally and emotionally imperfect. He needs to grow and to be fed in his intellect and will and emo-tions. He has psychological needs that donning a religious habit does not delete. He may act as though these needs do not exist. He may ignore them, hoping that they will go away. But they will not. More than that, if they are neglected, they will catch up with him and make him pay a price for his foolishness. For the same reason that bodily needs arise from incom-pleteness and imperfection in the organism, so do psycho-logical needs arise from an incompleteness and imperfec-tion in one's mental-emotional life. Man needs precisely because he is an unfinished being seeking ends as yet un-attained. Meeting Psychological Needs in Religious Lile In God's providential plan for man, every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality develop-ment together with (and we might add, because of) their Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 523 $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity. Marriage aims not only at the preservation, and increase of the human family but also at the individual good o1! husband and wife, and that on all levels, physical, psycho. logical, supernatural. Such is true also of the religiou,,; state, for a vowed consecration to God is orientated toward. both individual and communal goods. From the point of view of the individual good the re-ligious life is directed toward the fulfillment of the. per. son's whole being, the actualization of as many of his po-. tentialities as possible. If it is true that the religious is imperfect on physical, psychological, and supernatural. levels, it follows that the institute must provide for the per-fecting process on all three levels, not only on the first and the third. If it does not so provide, it is harming both the individual and the group. A prolonged unsatisfied psycho-logical need leaves the human person truncated, ill at ease, unhappy, and even at times frustrated and neurotic. More-over, an ill personality is a marked hindrance to the achievement of sanctity. One may dispute whether a neu-rotic can be a saint, but he may not dispute the fact that neurotic tendencies are hurdles in the path to sanctity. They are imperfections, and imperfections can aid one in acquiring holiness only per accidens, incidentally. From the point of view of the common good, the insti-tute hui-ts itself likewise for the obvious reasons that a~ psychologically ill-adjusted member can cripple commu-nity effectiveness, peace, and joy. This member is himself less productive in that part of the community's apostolate committed to him, and he often enough is an impediment to the productiveness of his companions. For the same reasons, then, that a religious congrega-tion is interested in promoting the physical welfare of its members through ,satisfying their bodily requirements, so should it be concerned about furthering their mental wel-fare through meeting their psychological needs. What are these .needs? And how can they be met in the religious context? Realization of. Personal Worth The first of man's general psychological needs with which we propose to deal sends its tap root deep into meta-physical truth. This need sends up a cry from the depths of man's being, a cry that demands of a man that he eval-uate himself rightly, realistically, according to what he is. The metaphysical truth pertinent here is axiomatic: every being is good. Insofar as a thing is, it is valuable; it is a good, good for itself and good for others as well. Surely, to be is immeasurably better for a given reality than not to be. To be a reflection of the divine goodness is likewise a glory for Another. Since reality is good, worthwhile, valuable, it can come as no surprise that deeply hidden in man's psyche is a yearning that he recognize and acknowledge to himself his own value, his own worth. Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic value, that he isimportant, worth-while. Religious are no exception. Their psychology, like that of the rest of men, reflects the metaphysical law that being is good. Drastic consequences can follow in a man who is really .persuaded that he is worthless.,Selbconfidence is paralyzed and the energetic pursuance of a task becomes almost im-possible: Inferiority feelings may fill the conscious mo-ments of. each day and make healthy prayer and construc-tive thinking mere fond wishes. The man or woman who is devoid of a realization of personal worth is not thereby humble. He or she is ill, psychologically ill. A religious formation in postulancy, novitiate, or ju-niorate that "humiliates" the young candidates into think-ing that they are next to worthless has done both them and the institute a disservice. It is perfectly true that without God we are nothing, but it is just as true that we are not without God. With Him and from Him and through Him we are a great deal. A.realistic self-esteem is not incompatible with the deep-est humility. 0nly exaggerated selbesteem issuch. Christ Himself was well aware of His perfection and infinite worth, and yet He practised the most sublime humility. Priests, brothers, and sisters need to esteem themselves if they are going to be mentally healthy. And there are any number of just reasons for thi~ judgment of self-worth, all of them consonant with humility. We ought to rate ourselves highly because of our God-given rational nature, a nature that marvelously elevates us above the rest of visible creation. If God could judge on the day of'creation that the inanimate earth was "ex-tremely good," what must He think of man whom He placed at the peak of visible reality to rule it? The religious ought to rate himself even more highly because of his state of grace and his unspeakable destiny, the face-to-face vi-sion and enjoyment of the Trinity. He must be precious in the sight of this Trinity, for God became man for his sake and went to the death on a cross for him. What better proof can we have of our personal worth than the fact that God loves us? "For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that those who believe in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (Jn 3:16). If God loves us, we must be lovable. Since God's love is communicative of the goodness that He loves, we must grant that He has a special love for re-ligious on whom He bestows the special goodness of a con-secrated vocation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~2~ A priest, brother, sister are good indeed. And honesty demands that they recognize their goodness. So does their psychological w~lfare. How can the religious life foster both a healthy selb esteem and a salutary humility? The norm must be reality, nothing artificial, nothing exaggerated, nothing.pseudo. Formation personnel must teach humility according to sound principles, such as those of St. Thomas presented in his Summa of Theology. They must not give postulants, novices, and juniors the impression that they are of small worth. They should not so harp on a candidate's faults that he imperceptibly imbibes the unhealthy conviction that he is thoroughly inferior and will be of little use in the apostolate. Like the rest of the human race a religious man or woman simply cannot function smoothly and ade-quately unless he is aware of his basic worth. Novice mas-ters and mistresses must teach this as well as the bases for genuine humility, God's excellence and our utter depend-ence on Him. Those engaged in formation work should heed theology's careful formulation of its concept of hu-mility. It is a virtue which moderates (not destroys) one's desire for his own excellence and prompts him to evaluate himself as he is. Humility, of course, prompts a man to love to be hidden in God and unknown among men, but this is not to say that it encourages inactivity or damages magnanimity. By it "each one regards the others as his superiors" (Phil 2:3), but this does not imply that a man deny his own good. Religious, superiors and subjects alike, foster a salutary sense of self-worth in their companions by a deep and sin-cere reverence, respect, and politeness. We may remark in this connection that those in authority precisely because they are in authority experience a special openness to fail-ure on this point. Especially can the superiors of large communities begin without realizing it to act toward the rank and file as though they were indistinguishable, in-habitants of the religious habit, almost mere numbers in a personnel register. When a higher superior, for example, treats a sister indifferently, coldly, or with an artificial smile or greeting, who can be surprised if the sister sees this coldness as a reflection on her personal value? If this sort of treatment is repeated by enough people, we can at least fear that this religious' need for a wholesome self-esteem is being shoddily met. What we say of superiors in this context applies also to companion religious.4 ll should show reverence to all: old toward young as well as young toward old, well-educated toward the less well-educated as well as vice versa. The fundamental reverence of religious for one another is founded on more substantial grounds than age and ad-vanced degrees. One may argue that people striving after perfection ought not to need small marks of politeness and esteem in order to maintain and further their psychologieal health. Possibly so. But the hard fact remains that these people are human and many of them do need this food for their personality growth. The common life, unless well lived, can have a damag-ing effect on a man or woman's need to be considered an individual. While this life is good and conducive to hu-mility, yet that goodness does not .imply that commonness and individuality must always be opposed. We feel that a religious' need for self-esteem is properly answered by small marks of indir~idual consideration: praise for a work well done, .greeting on his feast day, non-prying inquiry about the family back home, the noticing and considering of personal preferences. These marks of individual con-sideration are not merely psychologically beneficial for the recipient; they are supernaturally advantageous for the one bestowing. What are a word of praise, a feast day greeting, an interested inquiry, the recognition of a prefer-ence but the basic marks of the fraternal love religious are to have for one another: "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 95:40). We must be careful that we do not restrict our fraternal love to pious affections at prayer. These latter must be prolonged into the hard arena of daily contact. A superior especially can contribute to a subject's sense of personal worth in a number of inconspicuous ways. A word of commendation for work well done means even more for a religious when it issues from his superior than when it comes from an. equal. Then, too, the man or woman in charge should not be above asking for ideas and opinions and advice from subordinates. Even aside from the obvious benefit that will accrue to him, he will aid his fellow religious in realizing that their views are valued and hence that they themselves have value. Further, a superior should be generous in providing an unrushed hearing to any who wish to approach him with their problems. This is especially true of religious women. One can easily ap-preciate the psychological harm done when a sister finds that her superior seldom has time to see her or, when she is available, b~ushes the sister off in summary fashion and with a pat a.nswer that solves nothing. The sister may draw the conclusion, and unfortunately there is basis for it, that administration and reports are more importantin the su-perior's eyes than the sister is. A superior should likewise make an effort to initiate and provide conveniences for individuals: the use of a car, a bit of extra rest, the pur-chase of a useful tool of employment, an unusual but needed permission. Superiors must be concerned not only with the common welfare of the group but also with the 4, 4. 4- Psychological VOLUME 21, 1962 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 52g particular needs o[ individuals. In large communities this kindly foresight requires a generous heart together with a gift for detail, but no one can deny that it contributes not a little to a family' spirit and a healthy sense of personal Worth. Finally, the superior should encourage his subjects to use their initiative and develop their talents. Even when he must refuse a permission in an "initiative matter," he should do so with open reluctance and should leave the re-ligious with the impression that more new ideas will be welcome in the future. Then there is the question of corrections. Badly exe-cuted they can do notable psychological damage, espe-cially with the young and with timorous souls beset with the fringes of inferiority feelings. As a class religious are better able to receive corrections with a reasonable out-ward equanimity, but one would be naive to think that most of them are exempt from a more or less deep inner pain. Nor are most exempt from sustaining psychological harm especially in their early years in the religious life from too frequent or clumsily executed corrections. We are not opposed to corrections. Healthy realism de-- mands that a man recognize the fact that he is going to err and to fail and that at times he will need correction if not for bad will at least for faulty judgment. But we are op-posed to damaging corrections, corrections that leave the subject with the limp feeling that he must be of small value to the community, rather tolerated than appreci-ated. To avoid this sort of result, a superior should correct with moderation as regards both frequency and manner. He should be on the lookout for mitigating circumstances and let the subject know that he recognizes their presence. He should rarely hop on first offences and be extremely circumspect about correcting in public or in the presence of others. In addition a sister superior especially (men at times need the same caution) must be fair and operate according to her intellect rather than her feelings. Unless she already possesses a sympathetic understanding of human weak-ness, she should attend carefully to the acquisition of a balance that steers a middle course between a laxity that overlooks everything and a rigorism that never winks at a defect. Sense of Accomplishment Closely allied to the sense of personal worth is the sense. of achievement or accgmplishment. The latter tends to in-sure the continuation of the former. If a man never achieves anything, he will soon doubt that he is worth anything. There is a deep metaphysical truth hidden in this psy-chological need just as there was in our previous one: op- eration follows on essence. As a being is, so does it act. A duck cannot act like a squirrel, and a borderline pupil cannot perform like a geni.us. And so if a man does not produce, he is likely to conclude (perhaps with a violation of logic) that he .cannot produce; and if he cannot pro-duce, he must not be much. Though the logic may be par-tially faulty, the damaging effect of repeated failure on one's sense of personal worth is a given fact of life. A saint may come through a series of this-world failures with his psychological equilibrium undisturbed, but that is due to the fact that he knows he is succeeding in the far more im-portant business of attaining God. Even a saint is not ex-empt from the laws of psychological needs and their ful-fillment. The priest's, brother's, or sister's need for some measure of success should be met predominantly in the realization that he is succeeding as long as he is pleasing God. This religious may be a poor preacher or a mediocre teacher; but as long as sincere effort springing from supernatural motivation is a part of the picture, he should experience a sense of accomplishment. He is succeeding. He is worth something. However, we must face the fact that even religious who are supernaturally motivated will be aided in maintain-ing a sense of personal value by at least moderate success in their fields. The responsibility of a religious community in aiding its members to achieve this success devolves chiefly on superiors, major and local. They can discharge this duty in several ways, 1. Major superiors should see to it insofar as such is possible that religious are adequately prepared for the tasks to which they are assigned. This is especially true of the young woman who by nature is usually more appre-hensive about facing a new task than is a man. One does not need a lively imagination to gragp the impact felt in the heart of a young sister entering her first classroom knowing rather little about her subject matter and per-haps less about methods of teadaing and the keeping of discipline. She is going to have a hard time achieving a sense of competency, if she ever does achieve it at all. 2. On differing levels of responsibility both major and minor superiors must take care that they do not assign work too difficult for given subjects. One is asking for trouble if he assigns to the teaching of philosophy a man who is slow in abstract thinking or nursing to a woman who is short on practicality. 3. Again, both major and minor superiors must moder-ate the work load in their communities. A priest, brother, or sister who has too much to do is either going to suffer damage on the physical level by overwork or on the psy-chological level by the conflict resulting from his failure 4- 4- 4- Psychologiral Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 529 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to do it well. Time pressure and overwork are perhaps the single most urgent problem American religious, as a group face today. It has ramifications in more areas of the re-ligious life than is within the scope of this article to detail. Superiors should take it in hand--and resolutely. 4. Any modern business knows that if it is to survive, compete, and succeed, it must be housed in an adequate plant and be equipped with efficient tools of operation. If a religious is to be given a reasonable opportunity to com-pete with his secular counterparts in school or hospital and attain a sense of success in his work, he, too, needs adequate tools. Principals in our schools and administra-tors in our hospitals should see to it that their religious collaborators are given the equipment, books, and sundry aids that will enable them to achieve satisfactorily. 5. We are all aware that it is bad policy for a mother ceaselessly to correct her children from dawn to dusk. Ex-cessively severe discipline makes them nervous and can give rise to resentment feelings and/or an inferiority com-plex. But we may forget that a mature adult is not im-mune from these deleterious effects of an over correcting superior. While a religious superior has an obligation by reason of his office to secure the observance of the commu-nity's constitutions, he need not feel that nothing at all may be overlooked. Nor ought he to emphasize the failures of his subjects. If circumstances suggest that he discuss a notable failure with the religious responsible for it, he should discuss it. Yet at the same time he should praise what can be praised in the situation and he should assidu-ously avoid discouraging a timid person or one already prone to believe himself next to useless. Sister superiors especially need circumspection in this area, since women are probably more inclined than men to discouragement in the face of a difficult task. They need encouragement more than blame when they err. 6. Superiors and subjects alike can promote the sense of achievement in one another by the sincere commenda-tion of success. Most religious, we should hope, are ma-ture enough not to nourish a vanity over the compliments their cbmpanions pay them. If a particular relig!ous be-lies Our hope, we can for the most part skip complimenting him he has already too much of a sense of achievement. Others, however, are aided by a kind word of recognition, and we further their welfare by offering it to them. Such, then, are the first two general psychological needs that.must be met in the religious context: a realization of personal worth and a sense of accomplishment. We shall .pursue in a concluding article a discussion of further gen-eral needs of religious men and women, and we shall add several considerations concerning those of sisters in par-ticular. ROBERT J. ROTH, S.J. Contemplation in Action ¯A Clarification More and.more frequently in recent years the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God'in all things" are being used as titles of articles, books, and chapters in books. To a large extent, the treatment of these themes has been confined to technical works of asceticism written for religious, but these topics are beginning to find their way into articles and add(esses dealing with the lay apostolate and are being received with enthusiasm by the layman. This interest on the part 0f the layman has been in-spired in great measure by the growing appreciation of the important role that the laity must play in the apostolic mission of the Church. Laymen are everywhere urged to be mindful of the implications of baptism and confirma-tion whence flow their privilege and obligation to assist the hierarchy in the christianization of the world. Such activity is to be exercised by men and women in a wide variety of situations and in all walks of life. Further, one can easily see that a person engaged in.such activity needs a type of spiritual life which is suited for the work that is to be undertaken. An apostle, and here we mean primari!y the lay apostle, must be a very active per-son if he is to fulfill his commitments to his family and his job and unify these commitments in the fullness of the one Christian, apostolic life. He requires a spiritual life which is geared for action, which permits him to live a deep interior life in the midst of absorbing activity. No better theme could be chosen, it is said, than that expressed by the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." Moreover, an. appeal is sometimes made to authority in the person of St. Ignatius Loyola who exemplified in his life the ideals contained in these phrases and who incorpo-rated them into a type of spirituality which is known as "Ignatian." One can cite texts from his writings where he ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert J. Roth, s.J., is professor of phi-losophy at Fordham University, Ford-ham Road, New York 58, New York. VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FO~ RELIGIOUS enjoins the shortening of .the time given to formal prayer so 'that the apostle c~n be off and away on some apostolic venture. The ideal Ignatian man is portrayed as one streamlined for action, unhindered by long periods of prayer and liturgical service. Such a man must be able to do without long spiritual exercises and in this he is not taking anything away from God. Rather he must be a "contemplative in action," he must learn to "find God in all things." Naturally this ideal will appeal to the active man who has already experienced the di~culty of joining a dee[, spiritual life with an intensely active one. It is especially appealing, perhaps, to the American, who, not without reason, is called the activist, the practical man, the man of action. That such interest in working out an appropriate spirit-ual life has been awakened in recent years is a clear sign that many people, both cleric and lay, are becoming alive to the sense of what it means to be a" Christian, to be a member of the Mystical Body. It would be unfortunate, however, if one were to stop short at catch phrases and to use them in entirely different ways while remaining under the illusion that he is using them in their original sense. Whatever else was meant by the phrases "contemplation: in action" and "finding God in all things," they never stood for a heedless rush into external activity, a substitu-tion of external work for a deep interior life or of action for prayer. This is not to say, at this point at least, that such substitutions are harmful. That they are harmful will, I hope, become clear as we proceed. But what we wish to emphasize first is that such substitutions radically alter the meaning which these phrases originally had. Therefore, as long as interest has been aroused regard-ing the type of spirituality best ~uited for the lay apostle in modern times, it would be profitable to examine closely our two phrases in their historical context so that we may understand their original meaning.1 At the end of the dis-cussion, some may judge that such a meaning has little validity/today; but at least we shall, have satisfied ourselves that we have examined the matter carefully, and, by way of elimination at least, our future procedure will be a bit clearer. Actually, in the judgment of the present writer, 1 Perhaps the best treatment in English of this subject, a work which was followed closely in the preparation of this paper, is Joseph F. Conwell, s.J., Contemplation in Action: A Study in Ignatian Prayer (Spokane: Gonzaga University, 1957). Other excellent works on the same subject are: Jean Danidlou, "The Ignation Vision of the Universe and of Man," Cross Currents, 7 (1957), pp. 357-66; Alexandre Brou, S.J., lgnatian Methods ol Prayer (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1949); Alexandre Brou, S.J., The Ignatian Way to God (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1952); William J. Young, S.J. (ed.), Finding God in All Things: Es-says in lgnatian Spirituality (Chicago: Regnery, 1958). anyone who understands the meaning of these phrases will see implications which are valid for the contemporary layman. In order to understand the meaning given by Ignatius to the two phrases in question, it would be well to examine the prayer proper to the order which he founded since the two phrases are really expressive of that prayer. In turn, the nature of !gnatian prayer can best be understood by examining the end oi- purpose 9f his order. Our proce-dure, then, will be through an examination of the purpose of the Society of Jesus to come to an understanding of Ignatian prayer and thence to an understanding, of the two phrases under discussion. What, then, was the nature of the new order founded by Ignatius Loyola in the middle of the :sixteenth "century? Its purpose, perhaps broader than any yet envisioned, was the salvation and perfection of self and of neighbor, in-cluding the defense and propagation of the. faith and the spiritual and corporal works of mercy--in brief, any work that had in view "the greater glory Of God and the good of souls." What must be emphasized is that the goal envisioned in-cludes salvation and sanctification of others as well as of self. At first glance, this goal may not seem to be particu-larly unique. The mendicant orders of the late Middle Ages had already, dedicated themselves to apostolic ac-tivity. Moreover, the second great commandment has al-ways been love of neighbor; and every spiritual orienta- .tion, whether it be of a religious order or of an individual Christian, goes out to others as well as to self. Even a con-templative religious or a bed-ridden layman can further the spiritual welfare of his neighbor by example, prayer, and sacrifice. This is at the center of the whole doctrine of the Mystical Body and has been given expression in a beautiful way by Pope Plus XlI in his encyclical: Deep mystery this, subject of inexhaustible meditation: that the salvation of many depends on the prayers and voluntary penances which the members of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ offer for this intention, and On the assistance of pastors of souls and of the faithful, especially of fathers and mothet;s of families, which they must offer to Our divine Savior as though they were His associates3 But what is perhaps unique in the Ignatian goal, giving it a distinctive note, is the importance accorded to the ÷ salvation and sanctification of neighbor. This aspect 'is ÷ not accidental but essential to the Ignatian ideal, and the Ignatian apostle will fail in his vocation if he does not Contemplation deeply concern himself with others.3 In this respect, one in Action ~ The Mystical Body oI Christ (New York: America Press, 1943), p. 21. s There is no attempt here, of course, to minimize the primacy of VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS can look upon the salvation and perfection of self and that of neighbor not as two goals but as two aspects or compo-nents of a single goal. Or to put it in another way, concern for self and concern for neighbor as described above move in a circle (in this case not a "vicious" one!); that is, the more one perfects himself through contact with God, the more he can accomplish for his neighbor. And in.turn the more one labors for others the more he develops virtues within his own soul; for example, charity, zeal, patience, humility, faith, confidence in God, and self-sacrifice. This concept breaks completely with the picture some-times given which compares the perfection within the soul to a reservoir storing up water to be carried off to whatever place may need it without any return to the source. Work for neighbor shou!d not be considered ex-clusively as a drain on one,s supernatural resources; it can also be a means of increasing the perfection within the apostle's soul.4 This orientation will have its effect on one's outlook towards his natural talents, gifts, skills, and abilities. These are given not merely for the furthering of one's own su-pernatural development. They must be brought to their highest potential and used to their fullest capacity in order to advance the we/fare of others. This orientation has an effect too on the direction given to the life which one leads. Whereas members of the older, monastic orders, and to a large extent of the newer mendicant orders, dedicated themselves primarily to formal prayer, long "liturgical services, especially solemn Mass and the chanting of the Divine Office, the members of the order founded by Ignatius sharply curtailed these exercises and gave them-selves wholeheartedly to the active apostolate in any work dictated by time and plaice. We are now in a position to move from the Ignatian goal to Ignatian prayer. First of all, if the former is apos-tolic, so too is the latter. It is designed to help souls. Ft. Joseph Conwell, S.J., states that this affectsthe orientation one's own salvation and sanctification. We need only to recall St. Paul's precaution against becoming a castaway. But the opposite ex-treme should also be avoided where, out of selfishness or excessive caution and fear or even sloth,.one would ignore the salvation and sanctification of others. In this regard, we would raise the question as to whether an individual could s:ive his own soul by deliberately excluding the salvation of neighbor, or whether he could reach the full perfection of the Christian life without being deeply concerned with the spiritual welfare of neighbor by prayer, example, sacrifice, and, when possible, good works. ~ Even this picture should not be exaggerated, for again we must recall St. Paul's warning and also his remedy against exhaustion of spirit which consists in refreshing the soul from day to day (9 Cor 5:16). The main point made here, however, is that work for one's neighbor should not be considered a mere waste as far as one's per-sonal spiritual development is concerned. of prayer rather than its content. Prayer should arouse a great thirst to help souls; otherwise the devotion found in in prayer, even though good in itself, would be danger-ous. 5 When the Ignatian apostle prays, he is no longer praying as an individual. He prays as one intimately in-volved in the apostolic mission of the Church. Conse-quently his prayer is to be a help for the souls of others as well as for his.own soul, and his prayer is to be the in-gpiration of apostolic activity. Secondly, at times the individual will have to curtail the periods devoted to formal prayer in order to engage in the apostolate. This helps us to understand the some-times strong statements of St. Ignatius arid of Father Jer-ome Nadal who officially interpreted find promulgated the Constitutions of the newly-fo~'med order, against cer-tain prominent members of the order. These latter had a tendency to look upon prayer as an end rather than as a means and to place perfection in the passing of long hours inprayer and penance.~ It was necessary to censure protracted recollection and solitude, and by these were meant such as would withdraw one from the task of help-ing his neighbor. There will be times when the apostle must forego.the consolation and quiet of formal prayer in favor of the active apostolate. In doing this he should .not be disturbed but should be assured that he is acting according to his vocation. But one must point out with equal emphasis that the apostle cannot entirely forego recollection and solitude. This balance, I think, is an answer to those who would view the Ignatian ideal as an excuse for feverish activity without the quiet of formal prayer and recollection. As we shall see, the emphasis on shortening formal prayer would seem to be relative; relative, that is, to the amount prac-ticed by other orders while the amount that is left is con-siderable. Let us pursue the matter a bit further. So far we have seen that the Ignatian goal is apostolic, that it comprises the he!p of self and of neighbor, that these two cannot be attained in separation, ~hat consequently Ignatian prayer is apostolic, aimed at helping others as well. We are now able to understand that which was unique in Ignatian prayer, especially in its relation to activity. There is one way of explaining this relationship which, while good and salutary, isnot precisely Ignatian. Accord- ~ Conwell, op. cir., pp. 69-70. 0 In taking their stand; neither St. Ignatius nor Father Nadal had any intention of passing judgment on the superiority of one type of religious order over another. It was a question of clarifying the goal and hence the spirituality proper to the Society of Jesus. This task took some time since.in important ways the orientation of the new order differed from that of others existing at the time. See Brou, The Ignatian Way to God, Chapter 7 and passim. + + + Contemplation in Action VOLUME 211 1962 535 4. 4. 4. ing to this view, one would look upon prayer and activity as two distinct steps. Thus one would engage in formal prayer in order to receive grace, motivation, and inspira-tion for apostolic activity. He then turns from prayer to activity and in the course of that activity prayer as such ceases. In fact, activity may be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer, something to be taken up and completed after which one returns to prayer. Ignatius wanted more than this. He wanted to bridge the gap, to eliminate the line, as it were, between prayer and activity. There are not two stages but only one; that is, continued prayer and contemplation even in the midst of action. In this sense, action literally becomes prayer. Ft. Conwell expresses it as follows: It is not enough, therefore, that prayer incline to the apos-tolate; it should carry over to the work itself. There can be no question of a life of prayer and a life of action with a huge gulf in between. Prayer should not only incline to the apostolate but bridge the gap between them, even more, close the .gap, fill the gap, so that no gap exists between prayer and actxon . Not only does prayer lead to action, not only does it accompany a man as he crosses the threshold of the apostolate, but it pene-trates the entire action. Not only is there a connection between prayer and action, but a vital union of the two, the same spirit vivifying both. Action has become a prolongation of prayer, or to put it another way, prayer is prolonged by action itself? We can see, then, that the purpose of both prayer and apostolic activity are the same; namely, union with God. This means first of all union of intellect where under the divine light we share His vision of the universe. In some dim but definite way we have in the very course of our activity an increasing awareness of the divine mission of salvation and sanctification carried on by the Mystical Body in the people with whom we come in contact and in the circumstances and events in which we find our-selves. All things great and small--the whole created uni-verse in its natural and supernatural dimensions, the events of i~dividual~ and of nations, the growth of the Church, ordinary, everyday events--all become meaning-ful as we see in them the unfolding of the divine plan. Union with God in prayer and activity means also a conscious union of the will with God, especially in charity. It is charity which brings the individual to prayer and action and it is charity which consciously animates his actions, giving them meaning, direction, and unction. In being united more fully to God by charity, the soul also comes to love more fully the divine plan of salvation and all things in Him; love moves out also to one's neighbor, and this in turn inspires him to spend himself the more in works of zeal for the salvation and sanctification of the world. ~ Conwell, op. cit., pp. 72-73. All this applies not only to works which are in them-selves apostolic, for example, the preaching of the word of God or the dispensing of the sacraments, nor does it apply only to works upon which one has just meditated and to which he goes under the proximate impetus of that prayer. It applies also to works upon whi~:h he'has not specifically meditated and to works, events, and circum-stances which are not directly apostolic; for example, the teaching of mundane subjects and even the directing Of games for active youngsters. Hence the apostle contem-plates and finds God in the action, any action, which he is performing and performs the action precisely because in it he does find God. Viewed from this aspect, activity need no longer be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer. "The revolution accomplished by St. Ignatius showed that that which ap-peared to be an obstacle could become a means.''s Ac-tivity now joins hands with prayer in enabling the soul to attain union with God, to "find God in all things," in action as well as in prayer. It is from this viewpoint, too, that St. Ignatius himself along with the apostle whom he attempts to fashion is called a "contemplative likewise in action," and the prayer that he practices is termed "con-templation in action." Moreover prayer of this kind does not withdraw a per-son from action nor does it distract the active person from being absorbed in the matter at hand. It enables him to go deeper into i.t, to immerse himself in it precisely be-cause in doing so his intellect understands deeper dimen-sions of the divine plan and his will is consumed with greater love for God and for all His creatures. What has been said should be enough to help us catch a brief glimpse of the profound meaning behind the Ig-natian phrases, "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." They express the spiritual orientation achieved by Ignatius himself during his own lifetime of continued growth in holiness and union with God. They express also the ideal which he proposed for the members of his own order. We must, of course, recognize that it is an ideal which in its fullness will be achieved but rarely by his followers; but it is nonetheless one which can be striven for and attained in increasing perfection according to God's grace and one's cooperation with grace. We may now ask about the training which Ignatius prescribed for the members of his order so as to bring them to such a high ideal. First of all, it cannot be the result merely of daily morning prayer, as though the thoughts and affections that unite one to God in the morning medi-tation carry through the day so that we find God in every- Jean Dani~lou, op. cit., p. 364. 4. 4. 4. Contemplation in dction VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ 538 thing. "This is an oversimplification. For there is besides a deeper continuity with a richer and broader and deeper background of prayer than the morning meditation."" There are presupposed the various trials of a two year novitiate with a retreat of thirty days in which the indi-vidual experiences the full Spiritual Exercises or Ignatian retreat. It is the Spiritual Exercises which lay a foundation for the development of a life in God. They develop a deep union of the soul with God by bringing about the illumi-nation of intellect and impulsion of will so important for the attainment of the ideal of Ignatian prayer. In addi-tion, it is presupposed that the individual will continue a program of spiritual practices which include daily Mass, mental prayer, and two examinations of conscience, and throughout the year an annual retreat of eight days and the other ascetical practices necessary for growth in holi-ness. From all this it is clear how superficial is the inter-pretation which sees in the notion of contemplation in action an invitation to set aside any concept of a deep spiritual life so as to rush off into activity. In the course of our discussion, we have insisted on the original meaning of th~ two phrases in question and on the type of spiritual program needed to reach the ideal contained in these phrases. It would be inaccurate, not to say disastrous, to interpret this as an attempt to belittle or hinder the progress made in recent years in helping the Christian to find God more easily in his daily life and to make his prayer life more consciously the inspiration of his apostolic activity. Beyond this there is more than mere pedantry at stake. At its worst, a lack of precision in this regard can lead to the .tendency to do away with a deep spiritual life in favor of activity. "At last we have a 'spir-ituality of action' which enables us to maintain a program of feverish activity without too much worry about a life of prayerI" That such an attitude is naive in the extreme and for-tunately is encountered only occasionally may well be true. Yet one has the feeling that even more careful treat-ments of the question miss the heart of the problem. For if the original meaning.is maintained, a high ideal is pro-posed without a full appreciation of what is required to reach the goal. This can lead to discouragement on the part of those who strive for it and fail because they are ill-prepared. And if the original meaning is diluted, we lose contact with the initial insights of Ignatius'as well as the high ideal proposed by him. Consequently there is also lost the possibility that some lay people today may aspire to this ideal and find in it a means of reaching sanctity in their lay lives. ' Conwell, op. cit., p. 85. We must be aware, of course, that if the layman is to strive for sanctity it cannot be a question of living the life of a religious in the world. And here we have in mind the layman who marries, raises a family, holds down a job, and so forth. This brings up the problem, one which we shall not even attempt to ~tnsw~r here, Of just how such-a person can attain sanctity through an intensely apostolic life. At present we merely suggest that the answer would seem tolie in the direction of discovering what lay spirit-uality really is rather than in watering down the spirit-uality of religious for the layman. This would apply to the lgnatian ideal as well as to any other. We suggest further that there are many aspects of the Ignatian ideal which will provide valuable insights for working out a solution to the problem. This suggestion be-comes especially meaningful when we recall the back-ground of the Spiritual Exercises in which are found the principles of "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." The Spiritual Exercises were primarily in-tended neither for Jesuits nor for prospective candidates to the Soicety of Jesus. Anyone can make them. And though Ignatius gave prudent suggestions as to how much of.the Exercises should be given, depending on the health, intelligence, spiritual progress, and occupation of the ex-ercitant, it is clear that he envisioned the possibility of giving to the layman, for the perfection of his life in the lay state, the full Exercises, containing as they do all that we have said about the phrase~ under discussion.1° In any case, our discussion of Ignatian prayer as applied to members of a p9rticular religious order should point up the importance of careful training for the attainment of the ideal proposed. St. Ignatius fully realized that he was aiming high, and he did not leave anything to chance. Hence, whatever form the phrases "contemplation in ac-tion" and "finding God in all things" may take for the layman, if a high ideal is to be maintained there is de-manded a carefully developed spiritual program. That some program is necessary is clear to anyone who takes seriously the statements of recent sovereign pontiffs regarding the deep spiritt~al life needed by those who en-gage in the lay apostolate and Catholic Action. This is true even if we limit ourselves to an ideal not quite as de-manding as the one proposed. So much more true is it for the one under discussion. St. Ignatius, in drawing up the plans for his order, was facing a concrete situation with a concrete spirituality. One could ask whether one man can do the same today for the layman in terms of his concrete situation. It would The Spiritual Exercises of St, Ignatius, trans. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster: Newman, 1957), "Introductory Observations," pp. 7-9. 4- 4- 4. Contemplation in Action VOLUME 21, 1962 539 take a very gifted and saintly man. :Perhaps we lesser mor-tals will have to recognize our limitations and Open our minds to the possibility that the task can be done by a team of men, both cleric and lay, pooling their resources to work out-under God's inspiration a spiritual life which will enable the layman truly to be a "contemplative in action," to "find God in all things." + + + Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 THOMAS RADLOFF, S.J. Interpersonal Relationships Christlikeness is the goal of Christian asceticism. The purpose of novitiate and seminary training is essentially a matter of taking the given material of youth--as it is-- and orientating it to a personal commitment to Christ. The basic structure of this asceticism is an interpersonal relationship geared to the Pauline "I live now, not I, but Christ Jesus." Within the structure ~of this relationship, grace building on nature is the dynamic force achieving growth in the deiform life of Christlikeness.1 Neither gra~e nor nature exist in a vacuum; rather, God gives individualized graces that are tailored to the needs of individualized human nature. Youths come to novi-tiates and seminaries already conditioned by environment. The uniqueness of this youth and the uniqueness of his vocational graces must be taken into account if he is to be effectively saturated with the highest spirituality summed up in the epitome of Christlikeness: to love God and to love others.~ " The following pages offer some few, limited reflections on the two great commandments and. the relation of these two commandments to the already conditioned human nature they are meant to permeate. 1 The concept of the life of grace as an interpersonal relationship is not new, but it is a notion that is rece

Issue 19.4 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review fOl" Religious The LordIs My Shepherd The Brothers',Vootion: Natural Ideal by Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. Problen~s of the Late Vocation , byDavid "B. IVadhams~ S.M.~ Is Religious DisObedience Al~ays, a Sin? by Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. The Problem of Transition for the Junior sister, by Sister Mary Magdalen, O.P. , Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, PreViews Questions and ,Answers Book Reviews 193 200 207 215 225 232 237 ,240 " 248 The Lord Is My Shepherd The Lord is my shepherd: I want for nothing; he makes me to lie in green pastures, He leads me to waters where I may rest; he restores my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Although I walk in a darksome valley, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy crook and thy staff: these comf.o~:t me. Thou preparest a table for me before the eyes of my foes; Thou. anointest my head with oil; my cup brims over. Goodness and kindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord days without end. BY A SPECIAL INSPIRATION the Psalmist foresaw that the Redeemer would come in the flesh and that He would found a Church and that He would be a Shepherd over it. However, this is not the only instance in the Sacred Scriptures where God alludes in very distinct language to the "Shepherd" mentioned by the words of the Psalmist in this beautiful psalm; but the "Shepherd" whom God has set over His only true Church is also very clearly indicated in the words of Ezekiel where it is stated: "And I will set up one shepherd over them; and he shall feed them, and he shall be their shepherd" (Ez 34:23). Now what is significant in these words is that the same term is here used for "shepherd" and "to feed," so that the sense is that this Shepherd which God has set over His Church is both our Guide and our Food as well. The Lord is not only our Shepherd; but He is also the means by which we are kept in existence, both body and soul. The Lord is our Shepherd who feeds us with Himself; for by means of the Church which He established He continues to say, "Take and eat! This is My Body" (Mt 26:27). By means of His Church He is able to carry out the words of this psalm and fulfill their implication by feed-ing us with Himself; for that is what the words "the Lord is my Shepherd" mean or imply in the original Hebrew, since in The author of this article is an American layman who is living a contemplative life and who wish~s to rhmain anonymous. 193 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious that language no distinction is made between tending, govern-ing, and guiding a flock and feeding it. What a wonderful thing it is to have such a Shepherd who is able to feed His sheep, namely, all the faithful, with His own Precious Body and Blood ! But God is not only our Shepherd ; He is also our companion and our friend, since this word shepherd is often used to des-ignate the idea of companionship and friendship. "How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou" (Cant 4:1). It is significant that in addressing the souls of all who love Him, God should here make use of a word which is a derivative of the term used by the Psalmist when he refers to Him as his "Shepherd." And so by an extended use of the term shepherd we may refer to our Lord as someone whom we love and in whom we find our whole delight. The Lord is our Shepherd in the sense that it is in Him alone that we can find our whole delight. He alone is the sole object of our love: The Lord is my Shepherd because the guidance He exerts over me is the guid-ance of love and delight. He is Love in nature and essence. The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I am being ruled and governed by means of that everlasting love and delight which He is. The Shepherd here spoken of by'the Psalmist is none other than the King of love, and so the dominion He exercises over us is the dominion of love and love alone." God guides and governs us by mean of His love. "The Lo~:d is my Shepherd. I want for nothing." What can be lacking to him who is governed and guided by Love Itself? The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I have God Himself for my close com-panion and friend. From the day of my birth 'til the day of my death, this guide in the form of Love Incarnate will be my close companion and friend, so that no circumstance can arise in which His help and friendship will not be there to see me through everything I shall ever have to undergo. Having such a Shepherd we can all say, "I want nothing," that is to say, no circumstance will ever arise in our lives in which we shall suffer any sort of insufficiency; for we will always have what we need from this Divine Lover of our soul, this God who both created and re-deemed us. "I know mine," He tells us in the Gospel of St. John (10:15). He knows us better than we know ourselves, and no real want we can ever have will be overlooked by Him who has loved us from all eternity. There are times when we may think we need what this "Good Shepherd" sees we do not need, and which would not be 194 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD of any value for our eternal salvation. One thing we can be sure of, and that is with such a lover as God is, anything we really need to advance in our effort to get to know and love Him better we will most certainly have; and so we shall never be 'devoid of the good necessary for our progress along our journey to our heavenly home. The whole Bible has often been compared to a medicine chest ¯ in which may be found remedies suitable to every need the soul can have on its journey through time. And so, just as we think it nothing at all to rush over to the drug store to get something to soothe our bodily aches, so in like manner we should never be slow to turn to the pages of Holy Writ whenever we feel we need some words of help and consolation in the troubles and trials of this life. Our Lord is often referred to as a physician in the Scriptures. By this it is meant that we should use the words He speaks to us in them as a sort of medicine to apply to the ills of our souls. "Honor the Physician," we read in the Book of Ecclesiasticus (38:1). "Honor the Physician for the need thou hast of Him. For all healing is from God . The most high hath created medicines . . . and the wise man will not abhor them." Though these words refer to the medicines the doctor prescribes for the ills of our bodies, we know that in addition to the literal meaning of these words, there is also a spiritual and a mystical one. They also refer to that Heavenly Physician which our Lord is and the many remedies He has devised for the many ills of our souls. "The most high hath created medicines" in the form of the Church with her entire sacramental system; and so, "a wise man will not abhor them." At present, though, we intend to limit our consideration to the medicines to be found in the Sacred Scriptures and especially as these may be had in the words of the twenty-second psalm, and in many others as well; for in one of them we actually see the Psalmist call upon God as we do on an earthly doctor and say to Him, "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed." These two words heal and healed are so rich in Hebrew that we can hardly realize the comfort they bring when read in the original, since besides the connotation of healing they are also a metaphor for comfort and consolation. When in the words of the Psalmist we ask God to "heal" us, we include the petition that we should be restored to that pristine felicity we all posses-sed before we fell into sin. We ask God that we should one day win back that same unmarred happiness Adam once possessed in Paradise and which the words of the twenty-second psalm 195 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious reawaken in our soul as often as the beauty of them comes to our mind: "The Lord is .my Shepherd; I shall not.want." The complete fulfillment of all that these words imply will take place after we have been completely healed of the effects of original sin and restored to the state of innocence Adam had before the Fall. "We shall not Want," because after this life is over all our desires shall be fulfilled and there will be nothing we have to have which God will not give us in the complete and perfect giving of Himself to us in the life to come. "We shall not want" because after we die God shall be all in all to us so that, having Him with all the fullness and completion in which we will then have Him, we shall .lack nothing to be eternally happy. God will then "spread a table" before us on which He will Himself be the food of our glorified state. For if even during this life "the Lord is our Shepherd," in the sense that it is in the possession of Him alone that we can find our true delight, what will it not be to have that same delight in Him when we shall become completely assimilated to all that He is in the life to come? If even on this earth we derive our whole satisfaction in the thought that we have God who is Love Itself for our companion and friend, what shall it not be for us to enjoy that companionship and friendship of His when we are where alone we can truly and fully partici-pate in it? And if even while we are on this earth we find i~ such a delight to be ruled and governed by Him who is Love Itself, what will it be when we shall have that guidance and governance in Heaven itself? "The Lord is my Shepherd." What a privilege it is to have God Himself to guide and conduct us through every vicissitude and event of this life ; for with such a guide, "even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil, for He guides me in the right paths." The Psalmist says that as long as he shall live he has nothing to fear, because it is the God of righteousness who con-ducts along the paths of His own righteousness, and that He does so for His name's sake, namely, for the sake of Jesus, since we could never have that original righteousness we once pos-sessed in Adam unless Christ offered Himself for us as a victim for our sins. And so it is for the sake of the sufferings of Christ that we are now able to tread those paths of righteousness that will lead us to the realms of unending bliss in Heaven. "And a path and a way shall be there," Isaiah tells us (35:8) "and it shall be called the holy way." Our Lord said He was that "holy way" when He said, "I am the Way." He is the right path of 196 J~tly, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD which this Psalmist speaks and along which he is being guided by God. No wonder he can say that, "even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side." For what shall we be afraid of when.we realize that He who both made and re-deemed us is constantly on the lookout for our every need, and He will permit nothing to happen to us which will not conduce to the greater good of our soul both in time and in eternity? "In .verdant pastures He gives me repose; beside restful waters He leads me." In these words the Psalmist wishes to point out God's tender compassion for the human race and the many comforts and consolations with which we are provided from the very first days of our existence until our last breath. "Show me," the soul says to her Belgved, "Show-me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, wh~re Thou liest in the midday" (Cant 1:6). Thh "repose" here spoken of is that of reclining on the bosom of Christ, mentioned in the Gospel of St. John (13:25), for the soul's rest in Christ is here compared to the pleasant and refreshing experience we have when we lie down on the tender grass on a hot summer day. Another signifi-cation for "repose" is the idea of being interchanged. "Repose" refers to that immingling of the soul with that of her beloved Lord by means of some extraordinary grace which makes of the two one; so that the "verdant pastures" are those exquisite de-lights the soul finds as she feels herself being drawn into the inmost essence of Him whom she loves--namely, the beauty and comeliness of Christ. The soul speaks of the pleasure she has in Christ as a sort of lying down on the young, fresh, and tender grass, in order to indicate the pleasing sensation which the rest she finds in Him procures for her. "Beside restful waters He leads me." These restful waters are the vast number of bless-ings we receive from God and which afford us so much consola-tion in the sorrows we have to bear. "He refreshes my soul." God "refreshes" the soul when by means of His grace it is re-stored to that pristine beauty it had before it fell into si.n, for the word "refresh" means to convert, to bring back, to restore, and to renew. Whenever we are being renewed in Christ, we are being, refreshed in soul and reconverted to God. The fullness of conversion will take place by means of that renewal, that res-toration, that complete conversion and refreshing of the heaven and earth spoken of in the Apocalypse of St. John (21:1), where-in he tells us that he saw a "new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away." Through 197 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Re4)iew for Religious sin, Isaiah tells us (24:5), "the earth is infected by the in- .habi.tants thereof." And so the time will come when it will pass away and be recreated in Christ, so that at that time our souls will. be completely refreshed because of their being completely converted to God. At present our conversion is only partial; and so the refreshment of which this psalm speaks to us is not as perfect as we would desire it to be, since we still need many things which after we die we will no longer have to have in order to be perfectly and completely happy. It is only after this life is over that our soul will be completely refreshed with that refreshment and renewal in Christ of which this psalm speaks. "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." What is this "dark valley"? Literally, it is the valley of the shadow of death, which in Hebrew is used poetically for very thick darkness. When we read the Book of Job, we find this word shadow-of-death being used on five different occasions to denote what no other expressions convey. In order to express the contempt he had for the present life, Job says: "Let the day perish wherein I was born. Let the darkness and the shadow of death cover it" (3:3-4). On another occasion he character-izes our entire existence in this world as "a land of misery and darkness where the shadow of death dwelleth" (10:22). In the third verse of the twenty-eighth chapter, he again makes use of the same word in order to indicate that our whole life is lived in death's shadow and that we will never cease to be freed from its image until we are out of this world. And the Psalmist speaks of walking in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we are never free from the fear of our having to undergo the penalties we have to pay for the sin of our first parents. We walk in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we can never be free from the necessity of dying; and the thought of our death haunts us from the cradle to the grave. We are said to be walking in the valley of the shadow of death because we always live with its image before our eyes, since there is nothing we can see that will not some day have an end. As long as we live we walk, as it were, in the shadow of death, in that the calamities and miseries of life which will last as long as we will, are a sort of image of death, since they prepare us for its approach when the time will come for us to leave this vale of tears. And yet the Psalmist says- and we should all say with him: "Even though I walk in the dark valley -- the valley of the shadow of death -- I fear no evil ; for 198 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD You are at my side." The Psalmist tells us that we have nothing to fear from death, because Christ has removed its sting. "He suffered death," St. Paul tells, us, "that He might by God's gracious bounty experience the throes of death for the sake of every human being . . . that through death He might destroy him who had control over death; that is, the devil, and deliver those whom throughout their lives the fear of death held in bondage" (Heb 2:9-15). "I will deliver them out of the hand of death," our Lord tells us through the words of Osee. "0 death, I will be thy death; 0 hell, I will be thy bite." The Psalmist knew this; and that is why he says, "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." He knew that Christ would one day die and that by means of His own sacred death we would be freed from the bondage of death, so that even though we die, yet we shall live forever that life He merited for us by all He underwent for our sake. "I fear no evil," we say to God, "for you are at my side." We are not afraid of anything that can happen to us in this life, in-cluding death itself, because we are assured by the words of this psalm that in everything we have to go through, God will assist us by His divine aid, and we will always find ourselves upheld by Him in a manner too marvelous to comprehend. "When thou shalt pass through the waters," that is, the trials and afflic-tions of this life, including the agony of dying, "I will be with thee," our Lord says to us in words we can no more question than we can question our own existence. "When thou _.shalt walk in the fire, thou shalt not be burnt: and the flames shall not burn thee" (Is 43:2). With this divine aid of God Himself before his miffd's eye, no wonder the Psalmist was able to say: "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." For what is there anyone can fear when he is given the strength to trust God in those most agonizing moments of his life when his soul will be wrenched from the flesh of which it formed such a close com-panionship all the time it was in the body? What can unduly alarm him who is not unduly frightened by what so many dread ? Christ has destroyed death's terrors, and so it is now nothing more than a sleep from which we will one day awake as gently as we rise up every morning from our previous night's rest. And so, if we are afraid to die, we should also be afraid to go to sleep every night as well. If we fear God with the filial and re-verential fear He wants to be feared with, we will not have to fear anything else--death included. 199 The Brothers' Vocation as a Natural Ideal Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. yOUTH is idealistic. Whatever appeals to it as the greater good, that it will seek. It will seek it with a determination seldom found in later life. The child's changing ideas of what it wants to be when it "grows up" is a simple confirmation of this fact. At one time it aspires to be a fireman, at another a doctor, and so on. The desire changes with the appreciation of the good to be attained- one's own personal good. The child is led, without knowing the meaning of the word, by an ideal. The ideal not o.nly fires the imagination but it must also be somethin$ within reach of the abilities a man knows are his. A child does not fully realize its limitations. As a consequence it aspires to things far above its present capabilities. For the adult and the young man,. however, the ideal must be something which is possible--and possible through one's own efforts, tal-ents, and opportunities. An ideal must be capable of satisfying a man's sense of personal worth. It must also be achievable by this man. He must be able to see himself as realizing this ideal. People he knows, others he has read about have reached this goal; why not he? Often, not fully appreciating his own limitations, he will, like the child, aspire to things which are not for him. As realization comes, so the ideal changes or deepens. For the time being, how-ever, the mere possession of an ideal is enough to cause him to strive for it. It is not difficult to see how the makings of an ideal ar~ to be found in the married state. It takes a little more discernment to find them in the other vocations; and perhaps this is the reason, naturally speaking, why most people find their vocation in marriage. To be looked up to, even in the small circle of the family, to be the head of that family, to be needed, to be loved and to love, all these satisfy a man's sense of personal worth. The fact that others have failed in this state does not deter him Brother Robert D. Cihlar is stationed at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 200 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION nor make it less available. Rather he is all the more convinced, because he possesses an ideal, that his case will be different. Now let us take up a comparison in religious life also based upon the supposition of the ideal as given above. The priesthood at one time or another seems to appeal to most Catholic boys. They are attracted by the reverence shown the priesthood, and this in turn gives them an appreciation of its dignity. They see themselves invested with this dignity, receiving the reverence now accorded to another. They see themselves at the altar, in the confessional, at the bedside of the sick and dyfng. Their sense of personal worth is satisfied, and they know that the goal is achievable because others have made it. Their efforts could bring them there. We have present then in the priesthood two of the elements which go to make up an ideal. This in turn:,Ldepending on the intensity of the desire, becomes a motivating force to (1) prayer, leading to a more obvious cooperation with grace; (2) reading, leading to a greater knowledge of the true meaning of the priest-hood; and (3) a greater application to study, since scholastic ability is necessary. One thing .leads gradually to another. A vocation does not appear all at once but comes, like the dawn; gradually. No one of these is sufficient in itself. Most x~ocations, however, can be traced back to the development of the ideal. Vocations to the pries.thood are more plentiful beca.use they follow the pattern and contain the essentials of an ideal. It .is not so, however, in the case of the lay brother. Public opinion, and consequently the general opinion of youth, is against such a vocation. It is looked down upon simply (and mainly) because it lacks those two motivationally essential parts of an ideal. A young man cannot imagine himself in the position of one who is looked down upon, who possesses in the eyes of the ldity, and often the clergy, no natural worth or dignity. Why is this? Why must there be a lack of this natural value in this way of life? Why must the motivation for accepting such a vocation be only and solely supernatural?. Obviously this is delicate ~round on which it behooves one to tread ever so lightly, if it is to be trod at all. But it is not my intention in any way to minimize the supernatural motive. A vocation without such is no vocation at all. Nor do I wish to say that it is of lesser importance, for even that which I choose to call natural motivation is in reality an action of grace building on nature. It is sometimes true that the natural motivation is 201 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious the more obvious of the two, but in the course of, let us say, the preparation for the priesthood, grace builds on that natural motive to such an extent that the supernatural motive becomes the first consideration. My contention, therefore, is that both natural and supernatural motivation, though not of equal im-portance, are of equal necessity, simply because we are human beings. With this explanation, let us try for a subjective viewpoint of what a young man sees when he looks at the life of the lay brother. Perhaps from such a viewpoint we shall catch some hint of the defects in the presentation of this vocation and the possible errors in our thinking concerning it. Undoubtedly the greatest deterent to a young man is the prevalent attitude among the laity, and some clergy, that the brothers' life is a demeaning of self. They feel that the brother is an admitted failure--or becomes such whe~ he becomes a brother. It is rather hard to dislodge the idea that the lay brother is one who "could not" become a priest because of inferior mental ability or some other defect. Popular Catholic literature and various hagiographers of the past have contributed to this idea. The humility of some saints has been demonstrated by their wishing to be with the brothers or work with them (mean-ing to demean themselves). Among present-day Catholic books the Mass of Brother Michael, though a romantic and enter-taining story, is an example of extremely poor propaganda material. Yet it is from such weakly representative literature that attitudes are formed, and once having formed become tra-ditional. In short, the persistent idea is that a man who becomes a lay brother is exceptional, in either his holiness or his ignor- . ance. It is not a vocation "possible" to the average man because it offends his sense of personal worth. It is within reach of his abilities, but it is also often beneath them. It therefore does not fulfill the conditions of the ideal, in the natural order, as ex-pressed above. This idea poses a very thorny problem, but a problem which must be solved if the numbers of the brothers are to increase. A change is evidently necessary in our thinking--and actions-for the mass of tradition is against the brother. The Church, from earliest times, has made use of the principle of adaptation; and adaptation to the times and their needs is the thing to be considered. 202 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION Tradition dating from the Middle Ages has assigned the brothers' vocation to the uneducated and lower classes who, wishing to serve God more perfectly, seek this perfdction in the religious life. Now, going farther back to the natal days of monasticism, we find that this was not true then. The early "Fathers" were not Fathers at all, but in their manner of living the equivalent of the latter-day brother. They engaged in manual labor, meditation, penance, and so forth, but were seldom if ever ordained priests. Necessity, among which was an ever-widening ministry in the monastic groups, brought about the inclusion of priests in their ranks. As the accent on the ministry grew, 'grad-ually the bulk of membership became priestly. Men of education, since educated men were the exceptioh, were directed to the priesthood. Those without education could not hope to become priests ; but, still wishing to become rel!~ious, they were directed to the life of the lay brother. This insistence upon educated men for the priesthood was brought about as part of the much needed reform of the clergy at the time of the Reformation. It also, as a side result, brought about a complete reversal of the original scheme of monasticism; or at least it was the culmination of a reversal that had been taking place for some centuries. However, considering modern' ~i~nes we find the educational picture itself reversed (at least in most ~vestern countries) and the illiterate man becomes the exception. In the Unite'd States, for example, the major portion of the population has completed at least a high school education; and the years since the Second World War find more and more high school graduates going on to college. Superimpose this picture upon that of the time of the Reformation, and a natural explanation will appear for the decrease in brothers' vocations. However, it is only a natural explanation. This does not necessarily mean that God is calling fewer young men to His service as brothers. It does mean that these men, better educated and better qualified, no longer con-sider this vocation as an ideal or even an alternative, which it much more readily was considered a few centuries ago. The brothers' vocation offers them too little in the way of a sense of personal worth. Tell me that the reason for this is a lack of supernatural insight and I will readily admit that this is true. In the order of grace the brothers' vocation has both great dignity and value. But the young man of today, unfortunately, has a much more sophisticated attitude toward life and greater cultural advan- 203 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious rages without the balance of living in an age of faith which would have fostered this insight. This is a fact, and we have to adapt ourselves and our methods to it. It need not be without its own peculiar blessing. We are, after all, instruments which God uses. We commit a heresy of sorts if we expect His grace alone to do the job of foster-ing vocations. We must be prepared to offer candidates opportuni-ties in their work for God which are suited to their greater educa-tion and better-develo.ped abilities. Certainly in the congregations of teaching brothers provision is made for this in the various ad-ministrative and educational aspects of school life. The boys see this and respect it. The primary concern here, however, is with those mixed orders or congregations composed of priests and lay brothers. Here the brothers' duties as a rule are menial as well as manual. If, for example, a brother is qualified by his talents and/or education to work in posts of considerable trust, dignitY, and even title, why should they not be given to them. Such posts as treasurer, registrar, superintendent of buildings and gro.unds, promotion, public relations, library, and so forth, occur as possibilities. I am sure there are many others. Given these posts, they should also be delegated enough authority to act freely in them. I might even say that should a brother be discovered to have talents in these lines .and.not be qualified by education, such education should be provided. All things being equal, there is really nothing that a priest does which cannot be done by a brother except in ,-the direct area of the ministry. I certainly do not wish to advocate the idea that the brotherhood is equal to the priesthood; but I do hold that in his capabilities he is often equal to and sometimes better than the priest. When this is so, prescinding from personalities and persons, should he not be allowed to fully employ these capabilities for God and for the benefit of those who would see him and get to know him? If we want to get brothers who are well-qualified in their lines, do we not also have the duty to God to make the best use of the men He sends us, even to the extent of. demonstrating their qualities to others as a means of influencing them? The introduction of the idea of example as influence pre-sents another aspect in the matter of vocations. Seeing is believing. With brothers openly shown in positions of responsi-bility, an acknowledgment of their abilities is forced upon the beholder. Association will gradually accord a greater respect, provided of course the man conducts himself as one worthy of 204 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION respect. Respect accorded in and out of the order or congrega-tion ought gradually to influence or raise the calling, from the natural viewp5int, to conform with the principles of the ideal. In effect, what I would maintain is that there is a need for a greater "going in their door to bring them out ours." But first, of course, there must also be a change in attitude from within the order or congregation itself, or more precisely, among the members of the order or congregation. It is axiomatic that young men have a sixth sense in de-tecting the defects of their teachers or superiors. It is at times disconcerting to have them expose our weakest points. Though we might all profess a great reverence and esteem for the brothers, too few of us really feel it. Too often, in a rare and honest moment, we find the prevailing attitude toward the brothers in ourselves. We have only a notional knowledge as opposed to a real conviction. This is readily detected and carried over to the students and is reproduced in them. A patronizing, condescending attitude, even one of pity, obliterates the rosy picture we would like to paint; and the student sees right through it. He sees, often more clearly than we, the idea of inequality, of superior and inferior, master and servant. And we should not be surprised that he does not find this attractive. Why is this? Is it possibly because the social attitude has evolved in contradistinction to our own at home? That is, do we in practice have a social attitude toward the brothers which does not correspond to what we hold for society in general? Is this contradiction at home possibly one o~ the reasons that we, who are exteriorly champions of this new social attitude, are not so readily accepted as its champions? Undoubtedly there must be a hierarchy of superiors and subjects for the preserva-tion of good order. This is a pure sociological fact. However, it is not necessary that there be superior and inferior on the social level in religious orders or congregations, which finds its equivalent in the caste system. We maintain the "fiction" of all being equally members of the order or congregation; but this is true only as regards spiritual matters. Actually it works out to the maxim that some are more equal than others as far as temporalities are concerned. If, for instance, the priests are allowed something, the equivalent to the brothers must be less good, and so on right down the line. This spells out to the laity what they assume is our real attitude. 205 ROBERT D. CIHLAR The purpose of pointing up these defects is most certainly not an attempt to antagonize. It is merely to point out things in our actions which negate our words, thereby withdrawing from this vocation some of the sense of personal worth. A prospect of such things, contained in the acceptance of a broth-er's vocation, cannot help but prove repugnant to the young men we would like to gain, for they both sense and see them. Con-sidering the society and cultural background in which they live, it is the only natural conclusion they can come to. We stand convicted by the principles we advocate and the profession we make. We ourselves are not without guilt in this lack of an "ideal" in the life of the brother. We seem to expect almost over-whelming actions of grace in the face of obstacles we have helped to erect, and it is unjust to do so. In becoming a brother, a young man today must surrender much more than did his predecessor of a few centuries ago. We have no ~-ight to expect miracles of grace. Very few Pauls have been thrown from their horses. There are no immediate conclusions this writer can come to or any pat solutions he can offer as regards these problems. Such, as a matter of fact, is not his aim. His aim is rather to raise a doubt in the minds of those who read this, to provoke discussion, to call attention to the possibility of error in our present thinking. As I have mentioned before, there is no intention of min-imizing the necessity of supernatural motivation, of the need of prayer and grace in the fostering of vocations. But I am deeply convinced that we have been seriously mistaken in not providing a so-called natural motivation to accompany it. When, together with the action of grace, we have provided the mak-ings of an ideal, then men will not be lacking who will wish to follow it. Problems of the Late Vocation David B. Wadhams, IF A MAN around thirty decides to begin studying for the priesthood, he is beginning a bold undertaking which entails the hazards, though not the romance, of real adventure. The difficulties he will face will not be those encountered by the man of action, but problems he will have in abundance. These problems are perhaps no more serious than those of his younger confreres in the seminary; but they have a complexity and an urgency which make them special, requiring special considera-tion. These problems must be faced if the man is to persevere; they must be solved if he is to be a happy and efficient priest. Religious congregations now seem more willing then ever before to accept older candidates who are qualified, and the religious life increases the problems the older man must face. How does an older man adjust to community life, the rule, the vows? How does he meet the demands of fraternal charity, surrounded as he is by men younger by ten or fifteen years and presumably more resilient psychically? Will his years in the seminary be a loss if he does not persevere? Is he not just burying himself there, during that crucial period when other men are carving out careers? What if he should fail? The problems are not limited to the older man himself; religious superiors must also face special problems in the case of older religious seminarians. Should they be given any sort of ~pecial consideration or exemption from ordinary seminary and religious discipline? Should they be given greater responsibili-ties because of the experience they bring with them to the seminary? Like superiors, spiritual directors also find that the presence of older seminarians is not without its perplexities. Should they be given more or less direction than the younger men? How should the direction of the older seminarian differ from that of the younger seminarian? Why does it seem so dif-ficult at times to make contact with the older seminarians? Mr. David B. Wadhams is presently studying theology at Marist College, 3875 Harewood Road, N. E., Washington 17, D. C. 207 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review ]or Religious The range and number of such difficulties could be extended indefinitely, but it will be sufficient here to limit consideration of the matter to five points where special difficulties would seem to be present for the older seminarian: (1) the older seminar-ian's special need for patience and humility; (2) his impatience with "unbusinesslike" administrative procedure; (3) his im-patience with superiors and directors; (4) his chafing at being classed with younger men; and (5) his nostalgia, more or less prolonged, for the lay state. The Need for Patience and Humility It seems very likely that special dispositions of Divine Providence are to be seen when a man of around the age of thirty becomes a seminarian. However deep the consolation may be for the older man in this thought (and it is a considera-tion that he must keep uppermost in his mind), yet it must also be realized that this very ordering of things by Divine Providence also entails a special exercise of patience and of humility--the patience and the humility of the old man on the bench with younger students. If this lesson of patience in the practice of humility is not learned, he will not be able to persevere. Of course, all seminarians must learn these virtues; and all of them haveindeed ample opportunity to practice them. But a younger man who knows that his priestly life will begin at, say, twenty-seven has the impatience of youthful impetuosity to tame. On the other hand, the older seminarian has the gnaw-ing discomfort of knowing that he must begin a life at forty. Nor is it much consolation to him when a bright-eyed funda-mentalist slaps him on the shoulder and says, "That's all right, Dad, life begins at forty!" This truism soon fails to elicit any but the feeblest enthusiasm in the older man. This general situation forms a sort of background against which the entire life of the older seminarian must be enacted; life, he knows, is short, and his own, despite his age, has not yet really begun. However manfully he may struggle to be patient and to overcome the sense of frustration and unrest that flows from such a situation, his general background of impatience cannot help but be increased by more specific difficulties which he encounters. 208 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION Impatience with the "Unbusinesslike" For the sake of concreteness, assume that a man comes to a religiousinstitute after ten years as a minor executive in the sales department of some large corporation. After an initial period in the religious life of great good will and satisfaction, he may begin to find himself becoming impatient with what he considers to be the "unbusinesslike" and "unrealistic" opera-tional methods of the seminary. He is told that he should bring suggestions and complaints to his superiors during regular interviews known as adminis-trative counseling. But he finds that his suggestions for improve-ment are met with aloofness and subsequently may be ignored. He may find the cordiality of his superiors somewhat strained and entirely different from the warm spontaneity of office good humor: The happy camaraderie of the old days in business seems to radiate friendliness and mutual good-will in contrast to the remote politeness of this administrative consulation. He finds, in short, that businesslike office methods may not always be found in religious congregationg; and that established cus-toms, even undesirable ones, have a tendency to cling. He may .be shocked that buildings and equipment have been allowed to ~leteriorate because of improper delegation of responsibility in maintaining them, or because of what~ he considers a misdirected cult of poverty. After years spent in surroundings presentable, if not luxurious, he may find cracked and peeling paint in sleeping rooms and officeg, together with ancient furniture, serviceable perhaps, but piteously unappealing to the eye. Administrative-duties may be relegated to a single over-worked lay brother who has to manage a coinplicated acc0unting system with machines years beyond their prime. "Duplicating equipment may be gently awry, p~'oducing legible but~scr.atchy copy. Cash accountihg may be quite nonchalarit. Public relations techniques may be hopelessly mismanaged or totally nonexistent. The man may tend to exaggerate these deficiencies as time goes on, and his itch to rearrange things increases. Why-don't they call someone in for an audit? Why must certain precious ma-chines be available for the indiscriminate and uncontrolled use of fifty people? Why does fresh paint seem incompatible with poverty- surely the walls were freshly painted once? If on the other hand he find~ himself in a congregation whose progressive foresight has placed men of vision in positions '209 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religious of authority, the subject will surely find some evidences of inefficiency. The ease with which a man finds matter for criti-cism is a match for the most progressive system. Perhaps the very businesslike character of the place will strike him as out of place. A man's past will stand him in good stead when he becomes a religious; but the stresses and strains which this life imposes will affect him in those areas where he is mos~ vul-nerable- the sphere of his accumulated treasury of general know-how. Superiors and Spiritual Directors Then, too, the vow of obedience has a peculiar democratizing effect. Along with his deep respect for the office of superior, the subject realizes that both are bound by the same ties. The superior, no less than he, is directly subject to the authority of those above him; and this authority is just as stringent in its demands of obedience. Back in the office, the former senior accountant or advertising man saw his superior in a greatly privileged position within the circle of major executives. He was conscious of a degree of separation measured in terms of seniority and yearly income. Now he finds himself in the religious life where his superior, though he exerts the same authority as his former employer, may be a near contemporary, sleeping just down the hall, and using the same bath. The older seminarian realizes, to be sure, that the motive of his religious obedience is a supernatural one; but, being flesh and blood, in certain cases he cannot help but experience a sense of somewhat dis-mayed surprise at a superior-subject relationship that on the natural level may be so different from his previous relations with authority in the business and commercial world. Another problem for the older seminarian may be spiritual direction. He may find that he has difficulty "opening up." This will be especially so if his director is a younger man, or if he considers his director can have no comprehension of his char-acter. Suppose, for example, that the director is a younger man, that he entered religion on the completion of high school, and that he has had relatively little experience except in the direc-tion of seminarians. In such a case the older seminarian may find it difficult to talk about anything more dangerous than the weather, since he is aware of the considerable difference in background between himself and his director. This and similar cases may cause real difficulties in communication; the difficul-ties will be overcome only if the older seminarian recalls that 210 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION the same Providence which placed him in the seminary has also given him his superiors and directors. Armed with this con-sideration he must then put complete trust in his director, even if he finds it costs him dearly in wounded pride. As has been stated above, he has a special lesson in humility to learn. As a matter of fact, of course, younger directors can be quite satisfactory. Being aware of their relative inexperience, they tend to exercise great prudence in applying theological principles to concrete cases. Moreover, since many problems are solved by the mere telling, the seminarian should be quite con-tent if be can find a man to whom he can talk freely. Relations with the Younger Seminarians Probably the greatest trial which the older seminarian must undergo is being in a class of much younger men. Many institutes have a minor seminary to which they will send the older candidate for a year or so to give him some Latin and to observe him before sending him to the novitiate. The age dif-ference at this level is so great that he will usually be allowed certain privileges to make this period of adjustment easier. At the novitiate, however, he is considered for all practical pur-poses the contemporary of his fellow novices. Here the strict observance of the exterior prescriptions of the rule will place a heavy burden on a man who has enjoyed years of independ-ence. If, for example, he has been a heavy smoker for ten years or so and if he must observe a no-smoking rule, the damage to his good disposition will perhaps be compensated for in a cor-responding growth in character; but the sacrifice is sure to be severe--more so than for younger smokers. After leaving the novitiate where spiritual consolations and graces may have made the way easier for him, the older man' must still face years of study where the difference in age is no less than it was in the novitiate. These years of living with younger men un-questionably present a strain for his vocation; they will, how-ever, if properly met with patience and humility, give him his greatest opportunity for growth in emotional stability and for progress in the spiritual life. Most younger seminarians show brightness and intelligence in their speech and behavior. But at times this basie intelligence is accompanied by the thoughtlessness of immaturity. Many left their homes in middle adolescence; and sometimes their deport-ment tends to remain at the adolescent level, especially since 211 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religion,s no one is constantly correcting them. This lack of maturity will be vexing for the older man, who is only too prone to see in the gaucherie of a few what he may tend to think of as the general boorishness of a class. Young men, for example, have an ex-tremely cavalier way of treating furniture. ,And if the older seminarian has spent the better part of three or four m~nths recovering and reupholstering the armchairs in the recreation room, he' has to swallow hard and bite his lip to keep from shouting at some young philosopher, blithely and quite uncon-sciously wiping'chocolate-covered fingers on the back of a newly covered chair, ¯ The older man must be careful in conversation too. His younger confreies will usually have no more than a ~udimentary background in the fields of non-religious knowledge.-Discussions of politics, art, the theater, economics, literature, all tend to be somewhat superficial. The younger man may often show a quick theoretical perception, yet he may lack sufficient critical discern-ment. Because of this the older man may find himself exercising an air of intellectual superiority and condescendingly needling his companions for their lack of sophistication. As one young seminarian has put it: "The older men ought to stop and think now and then that they have no monopoly on ideas. They could at least listen, even if they disagree." :o. In the midst of'such difficulties the older seminarian could well reflect that if he sometimes finds it difficult to be with the younger men, surely they too find his company occasionally try-ing. If he has passed through the fiery trials of the crucial years between twenty and thirty, his very scars should remind him that seminary life is not always easy for the young men who hunger for action and the exercise of their ministerial labors. Let him think back upon what he was doing at their age; the contrast should fill him with the desire for patience and for-bearance. If he was in the service, his amazement will be com-plete that fifty or more young men can .live together cheerfully, peacefully sharing a life of work, study, prayer, and play. oIn the service, as h~ knows, men behaved quite differently; by contrast, the charity of seminarians clearly shows the effect of supernatural grace. He should reflect maturely that if he is annoyed at little gaucheries and breaches of etiquette, some thoughtlessness and lack of discipline, he will never find more serious faults; for however much he may see of thoughtlessness in the seminary, he will encounter no deliberate malice. Indeed, 212 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION one of his greatest sufferings may be his anguish that he ~cannot accept the small shortcomings of others with greater grace and equanimity. Nostalgia for the Lay State During the first two or three years of his training the older man may be subject to a fierce nostalgia for the lay state. Just as the Jews hungered for the delights of their former, life in Egypt, the older seminarian may sometimes be seriously tempted to think of his life "in the world" as much more useful and vital. This feeling will be all the stronger in the man of great vitality. At times all the reasoning that brought him to his priestly studies will become darkened and submerged. He will forget that one great reason for his having left everything behind was a dissatisfaction with what he was doing. He may begin to chafe at certain restrictions, desiring freedom from the restraint of the seminary rule. What he begins to miss is the habitual adult independence he has always known. Sometimes he will think: "I am too fiercely independent; I am not tem-peramentally suited to the regular life; these habits of inde-pendence are ingrained." As serious as this temptation may be, it will tend to dis-appear as his security in his vocation grows; and in most cases it will not be a source of great anxiety after the~pronouncement of perpetual vows. The nostalgia for the lay state is one temp-tation which .can best be handled in spiritual direction. The subject should regard it as a serious temptation and conscien-tiously follow the course his director prescribes for him. Once a man finds himself in the major seminary of a religious con-gregation, he can rest in complete confidence as to his choice of a state in life. He has chosen by heeding the call; whether he should continue is for his superiors and spiritual :directors to decide. The cool and firm acceptance of this fact will save. the man the added anguish of continually doubting his vocation when the temptation arises to return to his former state of life. Conclusion The older seminarian must train himself to face his trials and difficulties peacefully and tranquilly. His age may indeed tend to make him less flexible in certain respects; he will be less subject to "formation," more set in his attitudes and out-look on life. But this very situation may also be an advantage. If he is mentally awake, he will be at the very., peak of his learning powers. Years of training in judgment will compensate 213 DAVID B. WADHAMS for any alleged diminution of learning powers said to begin after full adulthood is reached. Although the older seminarian may be tempted to think that his best years are being wasted in the seminary, he should remember that, just because he is older, he will see more deeply into the problems of philosophy and theology and that he will draw from them a greater intel-lectual enrichment and practical value. Finally, there are two general attitudes that will greatly .help an older man along in his seminary life. The two attitudes, one natural, the other supernatural, are so diverse as to be almost incongruous when juxtaposed together. Yet the two can work together to ease the trials of seminary life for him. The first attitude is that of a sense of humor. The man who finds his own idiosyncrasies laughable has a safety valve which he will need to use frequently. Since he is constantly confronted with human foibles, especially his own, it is far better to laugh at them with hearty, tolerant, and loving amusement than to dwell on them as consant pricks to pride and self-esteem. The second attitude is one that has been hinted at above; it is a complete trust in Divine Providence. Whatever can be said on the human level of religious life, there is never any waste in the management of things by the fatherly hand of God. The years the older seminarian spent "in the world" as well as the protracted time spent in seminary life before ordination are not useless but completely functional from the viewpoint of the Father who has counted even the hairs of our head. In this sense there is no such thing as a late vocation; the call came and was answered at the time chosen by Divine Wisdom. In this con-nection it will assist the older seminarian to reflect and meditate upon the role of late vocations in the history of the Church; it is not mere fancy to say that without late vocations the entire history of the Church would assume a different cast and com-plexion. Remove, for instance, the three late vocations of Ambrose, Augustine, and Loyola from the history of the Church and consider the difference the removal would make in the course of the Church's history. Indeed it would seem safe to say that of the confessor saints who lived before modern times, a large part of them, if not the majority, were what are called today late vocations. Having seen the finger of Providence with regard to late vocations in the history of the Church, the older sem-inarian will be able to draw therefrom a greater trust in that same Providence with regard to his own late vocation. 214 Is Religious Disobedience Always a Sin? Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. THE CONSTITUTIONS of most religious institutes state explicitly that they do not bind under pain of s{n, even venial sin, except where the vow of obedience is explicitly invoked, or where they determine the matter of the other vows. Most also state explicitly, or at least imply, that the same holds for orders of superiors. Why then do some spiritual writers imply otherwise? For example, Father Cotel in the Catechism of the Vows, says: One sins against the virtue of obedience when one does not carry out a formal order of a legitimate superior. If an order of a superior only recalls an obligation of rule or a com-mandment of God or of the Church, failure to observe it is not a fault against the special virtue of obedience. Such conduct often involves a sin against another virtue.1 In a footnote he adds: According to very famous theologians (St. Thomas, Suarez and others) a simple act of disobedience does not constitute a sin against the special virtue of obedience, but it contains nearly always one or more sins against other virtues.2 And in a later section, he says: Unless the Constitutions determine otherwise, simple injunctions of superiors, commands which are not. made in virtue of the vow, do not always oblige under pain of sin. If the superior formally commands a particular act not determined by the Constitutions, but in conformity with them, it is our opinion that disobedience is always sinful.:~ Again he adds a footnote: "Some thhologians seem ho~v-ever to admit the contrary:''4 And Father Kirsch in his Spi~'itual Di~'ection of Siste'rs under the heading "Sins against the Virtue of Obedience" says: "A religious offends against the virtue of obedience by disobey- 'Peter Cotel, S.J., and Emile Jombart, S.J., Catechis~n of the Vows (New York: Benziger, 1945), pp. 83-84. ~Ibid. ~Ibid., p. 85. ~Ibid. The Reverend Joseph J. Farraher is stationed at Alma College, Los Gatos, California 215 JOSEPH J', FARRAHER Review for Religious ing without reason, the usual commands, regulations, counsels and wishes of the superiors.''5 How can these statements be reconciled with the explicit statement of the constitutions of most religious institutes that fione of the rules or orders of superiors bind under pain of sin unless they explicitly invoke the vow? First of all, Father Kirsch and Father Cotel's Catechism imply that there could be a sin against the virtue of obedience as distinct from the vow of obedience. In this matter, wh usually think of the Fourth Commandment as commanding obedience to all legitimate superiors. Are not religious superiors legitimate superiors? However, the Fourth Commandment commands us to obey all legitimate superiors according to their authority. For ex-ample, children are obliged to obey their parents in all things, except where there is sin, and except in the choice of a state of life: marriage or the religious life. In this last the parents have no authority, and therefore there is no sin of disobedience if children disobey their parents in their choice of life. What is the source of the authority i~f religious superiors to give commands which would be binding under pain of sin by the virtue of obedience? It is not from the natural law, since religious communities are not natural societies, but rather conventional, that is, they are formed by the mutual agreement of the members. Therefore, if there is authority in religious superiors, it will be according to the form under which the in-stitute was organized. But most modern religious institutes (and even some ancient ones) state in their constitutions that. orders of superiors will bind under pain of sin only when they command explicitly in virtue of the vow of obedience. Therefore, there is here no source of authority to command under pain of sin apart from invoking the vow. But some authors, even when they admit that disobedience would not be a sin against the virtue of obedience (which even Cotel seems grudgingly to admit in a later passage), still insist that it almost always involves a sin against some other virtue.6 This brings up the question, certainly a theoretical one but one with very important practical applications, of whether or not a positive imperfection is a venial sin. By a positive imper-fection is meant the deliberate choice of a less perfect action, 5Felix M. Kirsch, O.F.M.Cap., The Spiritual Direction of Sisters (New York: Benziger, 1930), pp. 483-84. 6Cotel, op. cir., pp. 86-87. 216 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE or the deliberate omission of the better action. For example, I realize that it would be better for me to make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament at this. time; but I deliberately decide not to do so, with no question of the alternative being a sin in itself-- perhaps to continue reading a book. Some theologians have held that every such positive imperfection would be a venial sin. They base their argument on the principle that we are obliged to seek our last end in the best way possible. But this contradicts the opinion of the majority of theologians. We are certainly obliged to seek our last end, but not necessarily in the best way possible. And it seems to me that we have a very strong argument from Holy Scripture itself, in several places, that it is not sinful to choose the less perfect. The most explicit example, I think, is in St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians, in the seventh chapter, where he is talking about virginity and marriage. In verses seven and eight, he says: "I would that all men were even as myself [the im-plication is: virginal].; but everyone hath his proper gift from God: one after this manner, and another after that. But I say to the unmarried and. to the widows: it is good for them if they continue, even as I." And later in the same chapter: "Now con-cerning virgins, I have no commandment of the Lord, but I give counsel, as having obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful. I think therefore that this is good for the present necessity : that it is good for a man so to be. Art thou bound to a wife? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? Seek not a wife. But if thou take a wife, thou hast not sinned. And if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned" (vv. 25ff.). And still a little further on, where St. Paul is talking about a father giving his daughter in marriage: "Therefore, both he that giveth his virgin in marriage doth well: and he that giveth her not doth better" (v. 38). Is not St. Paul saying explicitly here that while it is better to remain virginal, nevertheless it is not a sin to marry? This certainly is the choice between the better and the less good. And he does not qualify it by saying that if one cannot do the better, it is all right to do the less good. He simply gives a comparison: that for the same man, it is better if he does not marry, but it is good if he does, and he does not sin in marrying. So, this is at least one example where deliberately choosing the lesser good is 217 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious not a sin: which proves that the universal statement to the contrary is false. But some adversaries answer: At least to disobey a rule or order of superiors would almost always be a sin because it will involve a bad motive. They give as examples, that it will be done out of laziness or sensuality or human respect. For this, Father Gerald Kelly, S.J., has a good answer in his book on Guidance for Religious (pp. 258-59).7 He is talking about the obligation of daily morning and evening prayers; but, as he himself says, it applies also to the obligation of rules: They would say (i.e., those holding for sin): "Theoretically there is no obligation to pray every day: but in practice there is usually a sin in the omission of these prayers, because when daily prayers are omitted without a sufficient reason this is often due to a small fault of laziness, sensuality, or human respect." This formula, or a somewhat similar one, is sponsored by eminent theologians; and catechists who wish to follow it in explaining the duty of praying are certainly justified in doing so. But I would not recommend it. I find it confusing. It says, on the one hand, that daily prayers are not of obligation, yet on the other, it demands a sufficient reason under pain of sin for omitting them. This seems to beg the entire question; for if there is no obligation to say daily prayers, why should a reason be required under pain of sin for omitting them? As for the statement that failure to say these prayers could be a sin of laziness, it seems to ignore completely the distinction between imperfection and venial sin. [In a footnote at this point, Fr. Kelly admits that those who hold that every positive im-perfection is a venial sin would logically hold this doctrine.] Laziness is not a sin in the strict sense; it is an inordinate disposition or tendency, and it becomes sinful only when it leads to the neglect of some duty binding under pain of sin. In other words, laziness is an imperfection when it induces one to act against a counsel (for instance, to break a rule which does not bind under pain of sin), and it is a sin when it leads one to violate a precept (for instance, to miss Sunday Mass in whole or in part). And what I have said of laziness is similarly true of such things as sensuality and human respect. According to this doctrine of Father Kelly, if a person de-liberately violates a rule or ordination of superiors, because it is easier not to do the thing ordered, for love of comfort, or for laziness, if you want to call it that, it is not a sin. Obviously, to seek comfort is not of itself a sin, or we could not have any cushions, soft beds, pillows, or anything of the kind. A certain amount of comfort is even necessary. The love of comfort there-fore is not wrong in itself; it is wrong only when it leads one to do something that is sinful, or to omit something to which one is bound under pain of sin. To omit something to which one is not bound, because of the love of comfort, is not therefore a sin. 7Westminster: Newman, 1956. 218 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE Obviously, if the action one chooses in place of obeying the rule is something sinful in itself, it will be a sin. But the mere fact that it is breaking the rule, will not of itself ever make an action a sin that would not be a sin even if there were no rule. How then does one sin against obedience? Aside from dis-obeying those commands which are given in virtue of the vow of obedience, one can also sin against obedience by formal con-tempt for authority. All the authors agree that this does not mean contempt for the person who holds authority, but formal contempt for authority itself. One can also sin against other virtues in disobeying the rules. Formal contempt for religious life and religious rule in general would be a sin against the virtue of religion. And, as was said before, if there is a really sinful motive in one's action and not ,just a less perfect motive, then there will be a sin; but that is apart from the fact that a rule is being violated. There is a further way in which one might sin by dis-obedience to rules and regulations: if one does it habitually, one might very well be getting into a proximate danger of losing his vocation. For a novice, that would not be sinful, because a novice is not bound to that vocation. But one who has taken perpetual vows is bound for life. Therefore, to endanger the perpetuity of his vows knowingly and willingly could be a sin. Generally speaking, an individual violation of a rule or an order of superiors not invoking the vow of obedience would not be a sin in itself, unless the act is sinful apart: from any violation of the rule. I hope that it is cl,early understood that I am not suggesting that we should violate rules or orders of superiors. Certainly, if we truly want to signalize ourselves in the more perfect following of our Lord, we shall ordinarily do our best to observe all rules and regulations. But our motive should be the love of God, not the fear of sin. But is not the rule the will of God for us? Is it not wrong to go against God's will? It would be wrong to go against the preceptive will of God. But the rule is not the preceptive will of God; it is a counsel, a guidepost or directive to the better way of serving and loving God. And even then the statement must be qualified: ordinarily the rule indicates the better thing to be done. But, as we know, no rule made by a human being can be so perfect that it could not admit of exceptions in extraordinary circumstances. But at least ordinarily, in ordinary circumstances, 219 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious the rule is for us the indication of the better way of serving God. But what about the form of the rules? Some will say that they are in the form of laws and all true laws bind in conscience. Some thelogians, myself included, would not agree that all laws must bind in conscience,s But if such a statement is admitted, then the rules are not laws. Because they do not intend to bind in conscience, regardless of how they are worded. This is clear from the constitutions themelves in stating that they do not bind under pain of sin. So, regardless of their wording, they are meant as mere directives to the more perfect following of Christ. Is there any sense in which they contain an obligation? Yes, I think there is- but not under pain of sin. What does obligation mean ? It seems to be a form of necessity in the moral order. When I say moral order here, I mean not in the physical or metaphysical order, but in the order of human conduct. It is a conditional necessity. If we want to achieve a certain end, we must do this particular thing. When we speak of a moral obli-gation, not simply an obligation in the moral order, but an obligation binding under pain of sin, we mean this: that if we want to achieve our ultimate end, we must do a certain thing. Now, we are obliged to seek our ultimate end, therefore we have an absolute necessity to take the necessary means. But if the end itself is not absolutely necessary, then we have no absolute necessity to take the means. We have only a conditional necessity. If we want this particular end, we must take these means. There are obvious examples of this use of words implying obligation which are certainly outside the realm of sin. For instance, if you are playing bridge and bid two spades, you must take eight tricks. That is an obligation, an obligation not under Pain of sin, but an obligation of the game. If you do not take eight tricks, you will receive a penalty. There is no moral fault in not taking the required number of tricks, nor does the in-flicting of a penalty imply this. But there is a certain necessity to take the eight tricks, if you want to succeed at the game. So also in the moral order : we might speak of the conditions of gaining an indulgence. One must fulfill all the conditions, if one wants to gain the indulgence. But one is not obliged to gain the indulgence. Therefore, one is not obliged absolutely to do these things required for the indulgence. For ihstance, if one sSt. Thomas also holds that counsels are an ordinary part of the law, Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 104, 4. 220 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE wishes to say the same prayer, but not fulfill the conditions of the indulgence, he is free to do so. But if one wants to gain the indulgence, one must fulfill the conditions. You can call that a form of obligation, but not under pain of sin. So also with the rules. If we want to follow the more perfect way, we must do what the rule commands. But are we not obliged to seek.the more. perfect way by our profession as religious? No, the religious profession binds us under pain of sin only to those.things which are explicitly vowed, ~vhich are poverty according to the constitutions, chastity in its perfection, including celibacy or virginity, and obedience in those things which are commanded in virtue of the vow. This is a more perfect way of life, and to this much we are strictly obliged under pain of sin. But we are not obliged by the vows to seek the most perfect in everything we do: If we want to be more perfect still, we must follow the rules and regular;ions. But we are not obliged to them under pain of sin. If we so neglect them that we proximately endanger the fulfillment of our vows or their perpetuity, then of course we are sinni.ng,. Are we not obliged under pain of sin at least by the law.of the Church, which in canon 593 says that religious should order their lives in accordance with the rules and constitutions of their own order and so strive for perfection? A Claretian moralist, Father A. Peinador recently proposed this argument.9 But practically all authorities on canon law, including the out-standing Claretian expert on the canon law of religious, Father Goyeneche,1° agree that this canon adds no new obligation, and that, in fact, a religious can sin against the specific obligation of striving for perfection only by contempt, and not even by individual violations of his vows. In spite of Father Peinador's worries, the individuality of each order is still preserved by the fact that the rules and constitutions determine the matter of the vows and further determine the matter in ~vhich superiors can invoke the vow of obedience. Two. other arguments are proposed by Father Peinador in his effort to prove that the rules and constitutions, oblige under pain of sin in spite of his admission, that this is contrary ~"'Obligan o no obligan las reglas?" Vida Religiosa, 16 (1959), 149-52, 216-20. I°Qt~aestio~es Ca~tonicae de Ittre Religiosor~¢~, 2 (Naples: D'Auria, 1955), 8. Cf. also Bouscaren-Ellis, C(t~ton Law (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 285. 221 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious to the wishes of both-their authors and the Church herself. The first is based on the expression, used by St. Thomas and others, that the rules oblige ad poenam: It is true that some authors have interpreted this to mean that, although the rules do not oblige to their immediate object, they do impose an obligation under pain of sin to accept any penance imposed for their viola-tion. Father Peinador thinks that it is absurd to hold that the rules would impose a heavier obligation to accept a penance than to do what is enjoined in the first place. But if it is an absurdity (and I am among those who agree that it is), the conclusion should not be that "therefore the rules oblige under pain of sin," but rather, "therefore there is no obligation under pain of sin to accept a penance imposed by rule or by superiors unless it is imposed in virtue of the vow (as some few are in some con-stitutions), or unless the avoidance of the penance would be a sin for some other reason.''11 Some further explanation may seem required here; but as was hinted above, to discuss the whole question of the obligation of law in general and of purely penal laws in particular, would take too much time and space. Let it suffice for now to point out two briefer answers: either that the constitutions and rules are not truly laws, as Father Peinador himself holds; or, that the expression ad poenam,really means what we would usually indicate by sub poena. This is clear from St. Thomas's use of the expression in opposition to ~d culpam, in English we might translate sub poena (and hence ad poenam as used by St. Thomas) as under threat of penalty, just as we usually translate ad culpam or sub culpa as under pain of sin. Finally, Father Peinador complains that if the rules do not oblige "under pain of sin" (sub culpa), they oblige only "under pain of imperfection" (ba]o imperfecci6n), which to him does not make sense. The expression does sound peculiar; I have never before seen it used. What is usually held is that the violation of a rule is usually an imperfection. I do not think that anyone considers this a threat, as ba]o would seem to imply. It does imply that desire for perfection for love of God rather than fear of sin should be our motive for obeying the rule. If Father Peina-dor means to imply that every positive imperfection is a sin, his objection has already been answered above. l~That this is true of purely penal laws is taught by Vermeersch, I, n. 472, and St. Alphonsus, Theologia moralis, lib. I, n. 145. 222 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE To summarize: one would sin against religious obedience only on two scores: by a direct violation of an order given in virtue of the vow, or by formal contempt for authority (admit-tedly a very rare form of sin). Endangering the fulfillment of the vows, or contempt for religious life or constitutions could be a sin against religion. Otherwise, a violation of a rule or regulation will be a sin only if the act would be sinful apart from all idea of disobedience. An example of what might be a sin on the occasion of a violation of a rule would be a violation of silence in sfich a way as to disrupt the common order and to cause real inconvenience and mental suffering to those who are trying to serve God in a more perfect way according to the rule. The principles of what is given above are those taught by practically all theologians, including St. Thomas Aquinas,I~ St. Alphonsus,13 and Suarez.14 The practical application as to how often a violation of a rule may involve a sin for some other reason differs from Suarez, who judges that a violation will almost always involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. In this he is correctly cited in Father Cotel's footnote cited earlier. St. Thomas and St. Alphonsus hold that a violation can and perhaps often does involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. All three agree that no violation of a rule will be a venial sin because it is a violation of a rule, but only if the act would be a sin apart from any violation of the rule. Some who follow Suarez' rather severe judgment of fact are heard at times to say such things as: a violation of the rule of silence almost always (or very frequently) involves a venial sin against charity. That seems a rather severe judgment. If one sincerely held that, he would have to hold that almost all conversation, even during recreation times, involves sins against charity. I would not like to admit that. 1"-'Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 9, for the rule; 104, 5, for orders of superiors; 186, 3, on the obligation to perfection. ~'~Theologi~ moralis, lib. IV, n. 38, for the rule; n. 42 for orders of superiors.In both places he simply gives the text of Busenbaum without further comment. ~4De religione, tract. 8, lib. 1, "De obligationibus religiosorum . . . ," cap. IV, nn. 12-13. 223 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER In a'll this we must always remember that the chief motive for embracing religious life should be the more perfect serving of God, and that love of God, not fear of sin, should lead all religious ordinarily to follow all rules and regulations of superiors.15. -. l~Father Rene Carpentier, S.J., in his Life in the City of God (New York: Benziger, 1959), ~vhich according to the title-page is "a completely recast edition, of A Catcchis~t of the Vows," emphasizes the motive of love throughout the book. He also states the obligations of religious obedience under pain of sin, pp. 158-63, much more in the manner outlined in this article. 224 The Problem of Transition for the Junior Sister Sister Mary Magdalen, OoP. In a narrow circle the mind contracts; Man grows with his expanded needs.I THESE WORDS of the eighteenth-century poet apply to any of us at any one stage of our lives; and we who have the rich treasury of the Church always at our disposal must, indeed, blush if our needs do not precipitate that growth which "enriches the harvest o~ charity so that [we] will have abun-dant means of every kind for all that generosity which gives proof of our gratitude toward G6d" (2 Cor 9:10-11). At certain times in our life of grace we reach a plane where a marked change or growth takes place, from which we emerge with new attitudes, firmer convictions to reach for higher alti-tudes. We are not "that which we have been.''2 We have expe-rienced a transition, a "development or evolution from one clearly-defined stage to another"; a "changing from an earlier to a later form with the blending of old and new features"; a building-up which enhances and brings to completion the foun-dation already laid. Such transitions we will experience often enough as we go life's journey; one such is the particular aim of the juniorate period, following the novitiate formation in religious houses. The areas of sensitivity in this development are not difficult to ascertain as we watch the junior sister try to find her place in professed life. She must adapt herself to a more intensive study program, to a more mature assuming of responsibility under obedience, to new social relations that include some secular contacts, to a wider range of age levels and interests in her own religious family. She finds herself being urged toward develop-ing her individuality, yet toward a more virile obedience ; toward creativity, yet toward a zealous dedication to the common life; 1Schiller, Prologues, 1.59. :Byron, Childe Harold, Canto 4, stanza 185. Sister Mary Magdalen is Mistress of Jt~niors at St. Catherine's Convent, Racine, Wisconsin. 225 SISTER ~/~ARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious she is confused in her new environment of "thinking for your-self" and "thinking with the community." Above all, she is not a little appalled by the large issue of resolving~everything within her obligation to grow daily in the love of God, a duty she freely assumed ~with her vows. "How," she asks, bewildered, "do I harmonize it all?" It becomes the task of the junior mistress, then, and of all who deal with the juniors, to analyze the situation, to provide gradually the helps they need to adapt, to take root, and to grow. Since the juniorate provides an intensive study program, what transition will be involved here? Perhaps this is the place, if it has not been previously achieved, to give a clearer under-standing of a truly integrated liberal arts program and the end toward which it aims. We find that though this has been dis-cussed from the postulant's beginning year, the junior sister, probably entering her junior academic year in college, will now be more ready to appreciate such a program. Study is much more the dominant activity of her day than in the earlier years when the novelty of the life, novitiate formation, absence of stability of profession--all militated somewhat against an inten-sive concentrated life of study. Indeed, it may even be somewhat of a problem to convince all junior sisters of the proportionate importance of study in their lives. To sound this note last August we prepared a sym-posium and informal discussion before college classes began on: "The Place of Study in Religious Life." The outline used follows at the end of this paper. Since at this time some of the young sisters still need help with the self-discipline of study, a candid reporting and dis-cussion of these difficulties individually with the mistress offers a helpful way to arouse the sincere desire and effort to establish the habit. Study time must, of course, be provided, and the course load be kept within limits, credit-wise. Long periods of study from two to three hours, at least sometimes, are a real necessity. Along with developing an attitude toward study, these are the years during which to build an attitude toward a habit of broad and well-chosen reading. The young sister must be helped in this by providing the right reading matter, by dis-cussion and motivation toward the choice she will be required to make. The sister must be shown that the need for a profes-sional woman is to keep well-informed on current trends, cul-tural, economic, scientific, to know the mind of the Church on 226 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER controversial matters, to discuss opinions intelligently (first, to have some), and to choose books that will broaden her ability to evaluate literature, history, the arts, and contemporary move-ments. Here the college instructors must be interested, as, indeed, we find them to be. The Directed Readings courses in the various fields of concentration challenge the sisters to a critical evalua-tion of works ranging through Plato, Aristotle, and Longinus to Tawney's Religion and the Rise of Capitalism, Karl Marx's Kapital, Veblen's Theory of the Leisure Class, works of Newman, Maritain, Hemingway, and Riesman. This practice in seeing'rela-tion of parts to a whole, in evaluation, and in individual and group critical thinking is a facility that can be used by way of transition in attitudes toward religious life. At a recent Chicago meeting of the AHE (Association for Higher Education) the emphasis in a sectional discussion centered on the need for a right conformity along with creativity in thinking and adting. Mr. Kenneth Little of the University of Wisconsin, quoting St. Augustine, reminded the educators present that "the best indi-viduality will ultimately lead to a slavery to God." The whole trend of thinking was that basic disciplines in the classical tradi-tions alone will prepare the mind to develop its own freedom in thinking on contemporary issues and problems. Conformity, rightly understood, and creativity must be seen to be comple-mentary rather than incompatible. The thoughtful junior sister will soon transfer this understanding to' her life of obedience and the development of her own personality. The principles of integration found in the curriculum will take on a new meaning for the sister student at this level. She will begin to relate her biological and physical sciences to the philosophical concepts at her disposal, and her theology, besides becoming a stronger personal defense in her religious life, will serve as a norm to which each discipline will look, while retain-ing its individual distinction as a science. Literature will become a laboratory in which human problems are tested and tried but never completely solved and from which vision .will often arise; contemporary changes on the technological, political, economic scene will prove a challenge, fitting themselves into place in human history, posing questions for the present, challenges for the immediate future. From these understandings and attitudes we can help the young sister in her personal problem of living her vows. From conformity and individuality in analyzing literature, art; and 227 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious history, we can lead her to a clearer appreciation of the en-nobling power of obedience, of her duty to expand her talents, to enrich her personality, and to strengthen her character. She can find her penance in the long hours of severe mental and physical discipline demanded by study; she can direct this pen-ance by her will to love ; she will find her reward both in growth in grace and in love of learning. Father Gustave Weigel, S.J., puts it thus: "Esteem for scholarship will not be produced by legislation or even construction of programs. It is a matter of creative love. To love you must be acquainted. To look for new acquaintances, there must be dissatisfaction with what is at hand.'''~ This dissatisfaction will prompt her to forge ahead in both her intellectual and her supernatural life, for we must help her constantly to see these as one. When to interpret for herself, when to seek advice, when the letter, when the spirit of the law--these knowledges must come to her somewhat through experience, even, as to all of us, through trial and error. No-where will she find the standard rule, the "capsuled" formula, though she will eagerly seek it. We can instruct with examples, but we must also leave room for failure, that necessary human-izing experience from which we as a people shrink. The junior sister must be encouraged to think out her own problems, to do some interpreting of emergency situations, to come out with the wrong answer and face her own mistake. She must be helped through this to the courage to start over, to smile through difficulties, to laugh at herself at times. Many of these understandings and developed appreciations of her religious life, then, will be incidental, casual, imbibed along with her daily living. A formal program of instruction, is, of course, necessary also. We have found the third part of Father McElhone, C.S.C.'s, Spirituality for Postulate, No~)itiate, Scholasticatea an excellent and practical guide for weekly instruc-tions. It lends itelf to natural deviations as the needs of the group demand. The divisions are: Sacrifice, Charity, Humility, Offense to God, Love of God, Accusation of Faults and Sins, Security of Rules and Vows, Temptation, Identification with Christ, Communion, Authority, The Trinity, Eternal Life. The material will easily spread itself over a two-year period. In covering "Sacrifice" we spent some weeks discussing sacrifice 3Gustave Weigel, S.J., "American Catholic Intellectualism," Review Politics, 19 (July, 1957), 275-307. 4Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1955. 228 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER and renewing our undertanding and appreciation of the Mass, concentrating especially on My Mass by Joseph Putz, S.J.5 Then the virtues of sacrifice, humility, and charity were studied as they w~re portrayed in the lives of our Dominican Saints and our foundress, Mother Benedicta Bauer, O.P. This carried us through the first semester. "Offense to God" and "Accusation of Faults and Sins" we combined in a study of the use of the sacrament of penance, of general and particular examen of ~onscience, and the relation of these to meditation and recol-lection. Our object here was to challenge the sister to see these aspects of her religious growth as a unit, to help her approach her subject of particular examen positively, through the practice of recollection, through harmonizing it .when possible with meditation and mental prayer, with her efforts at self-knowledge. This is to militate against the discouragement commonly ex-pressed by the young sister: "If I make a resolution after meditation, one in my particular examen, one after confession, if I try to concentrate on something quite different during silence by way of recollection, where do I end?--in confusion!" We make an effort, then to "integrate" here, though admittedly it is uphill work, one which is only begun, since it involves patient waiting for the Holy Spirit. Meanwhile we show the importan'ce of constantly striving anew, of making consistent efforts at particular examen, recollection, and mental prayer, cardinal points on which ultimate success hinges. One can help the sister here, individually again; but the approach to the individual conference should put the burden of effort, at least apparently, on the sister herself. Does she need help? Does she want help? Let her go on from there. In still another sphere, we find the junior sister facing a transition--that of adjusting to secular companions in some of her classes and to a more mature group of sisters. We believe in having the juniors mix with the other professed. While we do have provisions for separate recreations, our junior sisters have free contact with all the sisters and join them in many of their recreations. This is an idea] situation for their better under-standing of the older s~sters, for a new relationship with their college teachers. It gives them an insight into the life and valuable services of our nurses and domestic sisters. There are opportunities to observe and test their own youthful impru- ~Westminster: Newman, 1958. 229 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious dences; to visit the sick and read to them; to share experiences with sisters who are not engaged in the schools; to get a better picture of the personnel needed to do all of the community's work. In the classroom situation, too, ihey meet secular students. They are sometimes confronted with unexpected competition, with views, outlooks, examples which alert them to problems of a world from which they are otherwise easily removed. They are challenged at making small decisions as to conversation, explanation, to a sense of poise and graciousness expected of them, to a loyalty to their community, experienced in practice for the first time. We might ask, now, besides the religious instruction and individual counselling, what other approaches can be t~sed to help the juniors in these important transitions? Here, more than ever before in the formation period, must we help her to help herself. An effective and appealing method to face and penetrate mutual problems is the group discussion--in any form. We mentioned earlier an orientation-to-school discussion on "The Place of Study in the Religious Life." The topic was broken down thus : I. Definition of Terms. II. St. Thomas and Study. The virtue of studiousness. a. What it is. b. What it is not. III. Study and the Religious Life. a. Purpose. b. Integration. IV. Practical Considerations. a. Attitudes: . b. Motives. c. Advantages. V. The Apostolate and Study. a. Need for preparation. b. Responsibility of an "apostle." The sisters admitted to a new alertness in the importance of the role of study in their lives. We feel it convinced them that study was truly the chief duty of their state for the time being. Another topic for discussion suggested by the young sisters themselves later in the year as representing a direct need was: "Practical Aspects of Poverty." Our approach this time: Each 230 Ju~, 1960 THE ,.]'UNIOR SISTER sister was asked to submit a question of her own on the subject. These were classified and duplicated so that all might consider, discuss, investigate, and mull over in informal conversation before the final discussion. Other discussions fruitful in broad-ening and stabilizing the sisters' views were centered on "Criti-cism and Censorship in Art and Literature," and on two rather controversial lectures delivered by Ashley Montagu and Vance Packard respectively. We hold, also, weekly, an informal dis-cussion of the Sunday Gospel with the question in mind: "What is Christ telling or asking of us in these words of His?" Quite frequently the discussion leads to a healthy "housecleaning" on points of courtesy, rule, and schedule, and to a group resolution, spontaneously arrived at. Summarily, if the atmosphere of the juniorate and of the sister's entire environment is one of mutual generosity and sin-cere desire to help them make the most of this valuable time, if they are encouraged in the virtues of honesty, candor, and justice, if they are helped to.appreciate somewhat the challenge of the complexities of life, no matter where it is lived, the efforts of all involved will be greatly repaid. We can, then, app~:oach this transition period with the junior sister, aware of the challenge, alert to the possibilities for development, humbly confident that "according to the grace that is given us" (Rom 5:2) we can help .her grow up toward her full stature in Christ. 231 Survey of Roman Documents R. I~. Smith, S.J. IN THIS ARTICLE a summary will be given of the documents that appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during January, February, and March, 1960. All references throughout the survey will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). The Christmas Message The 1959 Christmas message (pp. 27-35) was devoted by John XXIII to the subject of peace. The first and most important part of the message was concerned with three types of peace and the conditions under which each type can exist, l~eace, His Holiness said, is first of all peace of heart, an interior state of the spirit of each individual. The condition for this kind of peace, he added, is a loving and filial dependence on the will of God. The Second type of peace considered by the Holy Father was social peace, harmony within nations. This peace, he stated, must be based on a deep respect for the personal dignity of each man. ~Christ's incarnation and redemption, he continued, has dignified not only the human race, but each individual of the race. For if He has so loved the individual as to give Himself for him (Gal 2:20), then each man deserves to be given an absolute respect. This attitude is fundamental to all the Church's social teaching, according to which wealth, economy,, and the state are for man, and not man for them. The internal peace of nations, he warned, is threatened by treating men as mere instruments, simple means of production. Contrariwise only by recognizing the dignity of man will a natioa be able to dissolve civil discord. The Vicar of Christ then discussed the third type of peace, inter-national peace. The basis for this peace according to the Pope's message ¯ is truth. The Christian saying that the truth will make men free is also valid on the level of international relations. Hence in the pursuit of peace on the international level, force, nationalism, and the like must be sur-passed; and attempts towards peace must be based on rational and Christian moral principles. From truth, he added, proceeds justice; and justice in turn must be sustained by Christian charity which by its nature embraces all men. Then only will there be a real international life and not merely a coexistence. In the second part of the message the Holy Father pointed out errors b~eing made today by those who are striving to bring peace to the world. Peace, he said in this connection, is indivisible; hence it must be present in all its elements. Accordingly social and international peace are impossible without peace of heart. For true peace men must first of all 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS be "men of good will." Hence the first step towards peace must be to remove the moral obstacles to it, especially in view of the present dis-equilibrium between scientific progress and moral progress. In the third part of the message the Pope spoke of the work of the Church for peace. He pointed out that she prays for peace; moreover she uses all her means, especially the treasures of her doctrine, to produce peace. It is indeed in and through her doctrine that she has been able to formulate the leading causes of modern international disturbance. These causes are the following: violations of the human person, of the family, and of labor; a disregard of the true and Christian idea of the state; the deprivation of the liberty of other nations; the systematic oppression of the cultural and linguistic characteristics of national minorities; a selfish use of economic resources to the damage and injury of other nations; and the persecution of religion and of the Church. In the fourth and final part of the message John XXIII called on all Catholics to be active in the work for peace and to be conscious of the fact that they have a command from on high for such activity. He then expressed his best wishes to all men especially the poor, the humble, and the suffering. The Consistories On December 14 and December 17, 1959 (pp. 5-24), the Pontiff held three consistories for the creation of eight new cardinals. In the first consistory, which was a secret one, the Pope delivered an allocution in which he stated that his choice of the new cardinals had been governed by a desire to show forth not only the unity of the Church but her univer-sality as well. The rest of his allocution was concerned with a summary of the principal events in the preceding year of his pontificate. Thereafter there took place the creation of the new cardinals; Cardinals Cicognani and Copello changed their cardinalatial churches; appointments to the hierarchy since the last consistory were read out; and the consistory closed with the postulation of the pallium b y newly appointed archbishops. In the second and public consistory the Holy Father imposed the red hat on the new cardinals. In the third consistory, which again was a secret one, the latest appointments to the hierarchy were announced and cardinalatial churches were assigned to the new members of the Sacred College. To the Laity On January 10, 1960 (pp. 83-90), His Holiness addressed an allocution to members of Catholic Action of the diocese of Rome. In the first part of the allocution the Pontiff detailed his long interest in Catholic Action, remarking that he has been actively associated with it since the year 1922. He also expressed his utmost confidence in Catholic Action for the future. In the second part of the allocution the Vicar of Christ developed some of the characteristics of Catholic Action. He told his listeners that Catholic Action was first of all a help to the clergy, as its classic definition 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious as the collaboration of the laity in the a~ostolate of the hierarchy shows. The work of Catholic Action, he pointed out, is an effort towards the ful-fillment of that part of the Our Father which reads,."Thy kingdom come." This work of the laity began already in ~he time of the apbstles; it was in this time too that the principle was laid down that nothing should be done without the bishop. The work of Catholic Action, however, can never be achieved without a solid spiritual formation of the individual member. Hence he exhorted his listeners to a life of habitual prayer accompanied by a deep liturgical spirit and a profound sense of the Church. Catholic Action, the Pope continued, is also a spectacle of disciplined unity. The unity of the Church, he said, has an irresistible attractiveness for men. Accordingly Catholic Action must be and appear an organization of union and concord; and this harmony must be shown simultaneously on the level of ideas, of plans, and of execution. Finally the Pontiff said that Catholic Action must be a luminous sign for modern times; it must be the angel in Apoc 14:6 wl~ich carried aloft the eternal gospel. Catholic Action will be. such a sign by defending the fundamental principles of Christian social order, by safeguarding the rights of man, and by validating the things that constitute man's dignity, his liberty, and his inalienable rights. The subject of education was also treated by the Pope in another written message of January 10, 1960 (pp. 100-103). This message was directed to the Interamerican Congress of Catholic Education held at Ciudad de San Josg in Costa Rica. In the message he told the congress that every true and deep education is the work of grace; hence the chief work of the educator is to cooperate with that grace. In order that an adolescent will persevere in the spiritual life given to him by the school, it is necessary, said the Pope, that the school develop in the child a spirit of initiative and an atmo~sphere of spontaneity and sincerity. Moreover, religious training must be directed not only to the intellect but to the will and heart as well. Furthermore, the Pontiff continued, religious culture should parallel the youth's growth in literary and scientific matters. Finally, religiou~ training should prepare the youth for his future family~ civic, and professional responsibilities; it should also provide him with an exercise of the apostolate and of charity. On November 25, 1959 (pp. 54-55), John XXIII directed a written message to the International Federation of Catholic Youth, meeting in Buenos Aires. Among ~other pieces of advice to them, the Vicar of Christ urged them to a great love and respect for their priests and chaplains, telling them that it is these priests who will open to them the sources of Christian doctrine, imbue them with the spirit of sacrifice and self-mastery, and lead them to a generous life of prayer and self-giving. A written message of December 8, 1959 (pp. 96-98), was directed by the Vicar of Christ to the meeting of Pax Romana held in Manila and devoted to the theme of the social responsibility of the student and the intellectual. He told the group that they should be proud of having been. chosen by 234 July, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Christ to be His witnesses even to the ends of the world. They must, he wrote, make themselves worthy of their call by living a profoundly Christian life; and they must endeavor to gain the respect of their col-leagues by their professional and moral competence. He also bade them to direct their studies to the Church's social doctrine, since the countries of Asia are now in a period of rapid economic growth. Finally he urged them to translate the message of Christian truth into forms appropriate to the Oriental soul. On February 9, 1960 (pp. 158-60), the Holy Father sent a written message to the school children of the United States asking them to pray for the needy children of other lands that they may be kept free from sin and have the strength to overcome temptation. He also asked them to be generous in contributing gifts, clothes, and money to such children. On December 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 45-50), His Holiness addressed a group of Italian Catholic lawyers. Since the group had previously dis-cussed the subject of freedom of the press, it was this subject that the Pontiff considered in his allocution to them. He disclosed to his listeners his grave anxiety over much that is being printed today and its effects on the young and the innocent. In the matter.of the liberty of the press, he continued, it is always.necessary to have a clear conscience as well as one that is balanced, not insensitive, and not lax. The right to truth, he said, and the right to an objective morality based on the permanence of divine law is anterior and superior to every other right and need. Accord~ ingly there are necessary limitations to the freedom of the press and these limitations are found especially in matters that may do violence to the innocence of the child and the adolescent. Is it ever licit, he asked his listeners, to make a criminal deed the occasion of description and narration that are nothing else than a school of sin and an incentive to vice? In this area, the Pope insisted, the limitations of the press must be rigorously defined; and he called on his audience to study the matter carefully. He also told the lawyers that they should not fea~ to reprove the press and should endeavor to subject it to a human, civil, and Christian discipline. They should especially see to it that the press does not violate fundamental human rights. It would, he concluded, be the legalization of license, if the press were fred to subvert the r.eligious and moral foundations of the people. On December 30, 1959 (pp. 57-59), the Holy Father sent a written message to a meeting at Utrecht of the International Office of Catholic Education; the meeting had been called to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary of Pius XI's encyclical on education, Divini illius Magistri. The encyclical, the Pope told the group, has lost none of its truth; today as then the Church still declares the rights of herself and of the family in regard to education to be anterior to those of the state in the same matter. He also mentioned that since at the present moment national and international authorities are anxious about the intellectual and moral elevation of the human race, it is now more important than ever to have active members of the Church who are ready to explain and defend 235 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the Church's point of view. They should also strive to adapt the principles of the encyclical to the new situations that have arisen since its publica-tion; and on the personal level they should strive to become the profes-sional and moral elite which the world and the Church need. Miscellaneous Documents On December 18, 1959 (pp. 166-69), the Sacred Congregation of Rites officially affirmed the heroicity of the virtues of the Servant of God, Elizabeth Ann Seton (1774-1821). On February 17,' 1960 (pp. 91-94), the Pope delivered an allocution at the solemn obsequies h~ld for Cardinal Stepinac in St. Peter's, telling the congregation that the deceased cardinal gave a modern example of Christ's words that a true pastor gives his life for his flock. By the Apostolic Letter, Maiora in dies, dated December 8, 1959 (pp. 24-26), the International Marian Academy was made a Pontifical Academy. On February 17, 1960 (pp. 152-58), the Pope delivered an allocution to the faculty and student body of the Pontifical Biblical Institute on the fiftieth anniversary of its foundation. After recalling the Institute's work and success during the last fifty years, he told the Institute to look forward to the future. He urged them to a life of scientific serious-ness which would employ all modern means of investigation and work and which would have the courage to face the problems aroused by recent research and discoveries. Their work, however, should also be characterized by prudence and sobriety, so that they do not propose as definitive that which is only a working hypothesis. He pointed out to the Institute and its members that their work was not merely to form Biblical specialists, but also men who are filled with sacredotal zeal and who brave the souls of prophets and apostles. The work of the Institute, therefore, is a truly priestly work. In all their work they must also have an absolute fidelity to the deposit of faith and to the teaching authority of the Church. Finally in their efforts to understand the pages of Scripture," they must recall the advice of St. Augustine: "Pray in order that you may understand." On December 6, 1959 (pp. 51-52), the Pontiff broadcast a message to the faithful of the Philippines at the beginning of their national mission year. On December 13, 1959 (pp. 52-53), the Pope sent a radio message to the people of Ecuador on the occasion of their presentation of a crown to a statue of our Lady of the Rosary. On January 1, 1960 (pp. 98-100), he sent a written message to the people of Nicaragua on the occasion of the nation's consecration to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. On January 22, 1960 (pp. 90-91), John XXIII addressed an allocution to Konrad Adenauer, Chancellor of Germany, and on February 22, 1960 (pp. 95-96), to President Manuel Prado of Peru. Under the date of December 22, 1959 (pp. 61-62), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by the Pope to be recited by members of newly-founded churches. Faithful of such churches can gain an indulgence of three years each time they recite the prayer devoutly and with contrite heart. Moreover once a month they 236 July, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer daily for a month. 0n.December 14, 1959 (p. 105), the Sacred Consistorial Congregation named Cardinal Caggiano, archbishop of Buenos Aires, as military vicar of Argentina. A decree of the same congregation dated December 29, 1959 (pp. 164-65), provided for the continuation of ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the military vicariate of Colombia when the office of military vicar becomes vacant; it also assigned the proper tribunals for ecclesiastical cases of the same military vicariate. In a decree of January 5, 1960 (p. 60), the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office placed the follow-ing anonymous volumes on the Index: Il Poema di Gesu and Il Poema dell'UomooDio (Isola del Liri: Tipografia M. Pisani). Views, News, Previews Institute Jesus Magister Brother Cecilius, S.C., who is presently stationed in Rome at the Generalate of the Brothers of the Sacred Heart, has sent the REVIEW information concerning the Institute Jesus Magister (Jesus the Teacher). The Institute, .which is now an integral part of the Lateran University, was founded by Pins XII with the purpose of providing for the intellec-tual, cultural, and religious development of teaching brothers. The foundation of' the Institute was announced in the summer of 1957; in the fall of the same year the Institute held its first academic courses°. Accordingly the academic year 1959-1960 was only the third in the history of the Institute. The president of the Institute is the rector of the Lateran" Univer-sity, who at present is Msgr. Antonio Piolanti. The vice-president and director of Jesus Magister is BrotKer Anselmo, F,S.C. The faculty for the academic year 1959-1960 was composed of twenty-six professors, nine of whom were diocesan priests, eleven were .religious 'priests, and six were brothers. During the same year ninety-five brothers attended the Institute. The brothers in attendance came from twenty-three countries and from nine different religious institutes as the following tables show: 237 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious Countries Represented Among the Students of Jesus Magister Number of Number of Country Students Country Students Canada 13 Mexico 3 U.S.A. 11 Chile 2 Spain 10 Nicaragua 2 Italy 9 Peru 2 Brasil 8 Ruanda 2 Australia 5 Cuba 1 France 5 Ecuador 1 Eire 5 Malay 1 Argentina 4 Portugal 1 England 4 South Africa 1 Colombia 3 Venezuela 1 Vietnam 1 Religious Institutes Among Students of Jesus Magister Institute Number of Students Brothers of Christian Schools 38 Marist Brothers 26 (Irish) Christian Brothers 11 Brothers of the Sacred Heart 7 Brothers of Mary (Marianists) 4 Brothers of Christian Instruction (Ploemel) 3 Xaverian Brothers 2 Brothers of Christian Instruction of St. Gabriel 2 Josephite Brothers of Ruanda 2 From the tables it can be seen that besides the intellectual development imparted to them by the Institute, the brothers also profit by contact with fellow brothers of other countries and institutes. At the present time the. Institute offers a four-year course. The first year of the course is chiefly devoted to Thomistic philosophy and fundamental theology; the last three years are concerned principally with dogmatic and moral theology, Sacred Scripture, ecclesiastical history, and catechetics. The courses are presently given in both English and French; other languages will be added as the need arises. At the end of two years of the course, the students are made bachelors in re-ligious sciences; and at the successful completion of the entire four-year program they are given a licentiate in religious sciences. There i~ a possibility that, as the Institute grows, an additional program leading to a doctorate in religious sciences will be added. Brothers interested in studying at the Institute must have a degree which permits them to enter a graduate faculty or a university of their own country. Moreover they are expected to have a sufficient reading knowledge of Latin to be able to handle the texts necessary for their 238 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS studies in the Institute; such texts, for example, would be the Vulgate, the works of St. Thomas, and the code of canon law. The candidate must also make a written application for admission into the Institute; with the application he must include a birth and a baptismal certificate, copies of degrees held, written authorization of his major superior, and two photographs (passport size). Auditors, that is, students not studying for a degree, are also admitted with the permission of their superiors. Finally laymen who are engaged in teaching religion on the primary or secondary level are admitted, provided they 'have the necessary quali-fications for the Institute's program. Persons interested in the Institute can obtain more information about it by writing: Ill.mus Fr. Anselmo Balocco, F.SoC. Instituto Jesus Magister Pontificia Universith Laterano Piazza S. Giovanni in Laterano, 4 Rome, Italy Christ to the World Founded three years ago, this "International Review of Apostolic Experiences" has spread to 125.countries and is contributing in a very efficacious way to the work of the apostolate among unbelievers. The aim of the review is to promote the apostolate in pagan and dechris-tianized environments by pooling apostolic experiences and making known the most fruitful apostolic efforts undertaken throughout the world. In presenting these experiences, the review stresses the method followed, the means used, the difficulties encountered and how they were overcome, the results obtained and the lessons drawn from the experience which will prevent future repetitions of the same mistakes. A sample copy of an issue dealing with the problems one indicates interest in will be sent on request by Reverend L. P. Bourassa, Circulation Manager, Christ to the World, Lungotevere dei Vallati, 1, Roma. Brothers' Newsletter: Menus and Recipes The Brothers' Newsletter reported in its November issue that Brother Herman Zaccarelli, C.S.C., has published a book on menu-planning and recipes for Catholic institutions. This is the first book ever to be written taking into account the specialized food problems of the vow of poverty, feasts, and fasts of the Church year. In the summer of 1960, Brother plans to direct the first school of culinary arts for religious at Stonehill College, North Easton, Massachusetts. He hopes to build this summer course up to a regular three-year program. For his work on the book, Brother received grants from several food com-panies serving Catholic institutions. 239 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religion,s The interesting facts and events relating to the life and training of brothers which the Newsletter contains are available without subscrip-tion fee. Write to Brother William Haas, S.J., West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, or to Brother Walter, S.V.D., Divine Word Seminary, Techny, Illinois. )uestions ond Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., pro-fessor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] 24. I was teaching a summer course to sisters from several congregations. Canonical questions on the religious life occasionally arose. One sister told me that her constitutions state that a parish convent cannot be a canonically erected religious house because at the commencement of the scholastic year the community of such a house may be composed of new members. Another sister stated that in her congregation all houses of less than four sisters are filial houses, those of four or more are canon-ically erected houses. Difficulties on obedience, according to this sister, arise in filial houses because of the fact that the one at the head of a filial house is not a real superior. To avoid this, higher superiors strive to have all houses canonically erected; and they believe that this is accomplished by the mere fact of assigning at least four religious to a house. They also believe that the'sole fact of assigning three or less sisters to a house makes it filial. My reply to both sisters was in the negative. Was I correct? A canonically erected religious house, because it is a moral person, can cease only by suppression or extinction. A moral person in the Church is of its nature perpetual. If only one member remains in it, all rights of the moral person devolve on him. A moral person and therefore a religious house becomes extinct only when it has ceased to exist, that is, has had no members, for a hundred years (c. 102)'. As a collegiate moral person, a canonically erected house must consist of at least three religious at the time of its erection. Since a moral person is of its nature perpetual, it is evident that the continued existence of a religious house does not depend on the permanent residence. 5f the religious who originally constituted the community. These may constantly change, as they do in other moral persons, for example, an institute or province. The same juridical perpetuity proves that a religious house continues to exist as such if the number of religious assigned to it after its erection becomes less than three. The superior of such a reduced religious house remains a superior in the proper sense of the word, Since he is a superior of a canonically erected house. A higher superior cannot change a canonically erected house into a filial house merely by assigning less religious to it (cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 3 [1922], 48, note 176). This 240 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS change demands an extinction or the formalities of a suppression and the permission to open a filial house. Neither may he change a filial house into a canonically erected house merely by assigning more religious to it. This change requires the formalities for the canonical erection of a house. Goyeneche (Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 115) anal Jone (Com-mentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 404) deny that such formalities are necessary in this case. They maintain that the change of a filial into a canonically erected house is a mere internal change and conse-quently demands no permission of external authority (cf. Question .17). But such a change certainly and evidently implies the erection 5f a moral person. Canon 497 does not grant the right of erecting a moral person, solely on their own authority, to the superiors of any religious institute. The law on internal and external changes presupposes an existing moral person and its purpose is to determine whether the change has so altered this existing moral person as to make it a different moral person. In the opinion of Goyeneche and Jone, an exempt in-stitute could open a filial house with th.e permission of only the local ordinary; and then, merely at the will of its superiors, with no further permission of the ordinary and no permission whatever of the Holy See, could canonically erect an exempt religious house. But canon 497, § 1, demands the permission of the Holy See for the canonical erection of any exempt religious house. A house becomes a new moral person when it undergoes a formal external change (Question 18) or is moved to such a distance (Question 19) that the formalities of a new erection are necessary and are obtained. It need not be mentioned that religious owe the same reverence and submission to delegated as to ordinary authority. The ultimate source of the authority is the same and the motive of religious obedience is the same in both cases. 25. If we are able to suppress the religious house mentioned in Question 23, to whom does the property of the suppressed house belong? Unless the particular constitutions contain a different enactment, the property of a suppressed or extinct house appertains to the im-mediately higher moral person, that is, to the province or, if there are no provinces, to the institute (c. 1501). The property of a sup-pressed or extinct separated establishment already appertains to the house to which it is attached. All obligations of justice, all rights ac-quired by others, and the intentions of founders and donors are to be respected and observed. 26. Are parish school convents of sisters in fact ~anonically erected or merely filial houses? It is presupposed that the house had the antecedent requisites for a canoncially erected house at the time of its erection (cf. Question 3). If so, such convents are canonically erected religious houses unless the 241 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious explicit or implicit intention of the local ordinary in particular cases was merely for a filial house (cf. Questions 11-13). This follows from the fact that such convents are only exceptionally filial houses. Parish convents are termed houses in approved constitutions equally with other canonically erected houses, for example, academies, colleges, and hospitals. Their superiors are in the same way superiors in the proper sense of this word, and not mere delegates of a higher superior or another local superior. Their superiors are held to the limit of the three-year term and to two such consecutive terms in the samehouse (c. 505). These same superiors are also equally ex officio members of the provincial or general chapter. Parish convents have their own councilors and bursar or treasurer, and these are proper to canonically erected houses (c. 516, §§ 1-2; cf. Question 6). Furthermore, some constitutions make this general sense clear by stating that only the smaller houses of two or three sisters are to be filial houses (cf. Question 6). It is true that a moral person, by the positive law of the Church, should be perpetual (c. 102, § 1); but the sense is that it may not be erected for a definite time, for example, five years. It is perpetual in the sense of the law when it is erected for an indefinite time (cf. Michiels, Principia Gen-eralia de Personis in Ecclesia, 535). The particular constitutions may add requisites for a canonically erected house. If so, the petitioning of the consent for the establishment of houses is made according to such norms and the houses are canonically erected or filial according to the same norms. 27. What do you think of the enactment of our constitutions that the portress should every night carry the keys of the convent to the superioress? This enactment was contained in article 319 of the Normae of 1901, on which the constitutions of practically all lay congregations are based. However, it was not repeated in the similar norms of the Sacred Con-gregation of the Propagation of the .Faith of 1940, nor is it by any means contained in all constitutions. In some convents, the superior would be the nocturnal custodian of a sufficient number of keys. The efficiency and practicality of this practice are at once questionable. Its necessity is equally doubtful. I personally have never heard of any alarming number of attempts to break into convents at night. The doors should be securely locked at night, but it is not the custom in the United States to use locks that can be operated only by a key from inside. We may also question whether this type of lock is more secure, and a door is not the only means of entrance favored by burglars. The principal objection against the practice is the danger of fire and the fire regulations. To repeat what we have already stated on two occasions: "All doors used in connection with exits shall be so arranged as to be always readily opened from the side from which egress is made. Locks, if provided, shall not require a key to operate from the inside. Latches or other re-leasing devices to open doors shall be of simple types, the method of 242 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS operation of which is obvious even in darkness" (REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 284-85; 18 [1959], 165). It seems evident that all doors leading to the outside should be capable of being used as exits in case of fire; and an exit door locked from the inside, with the key in the superior's room, is a fire hazard of the first order. II. Local Superiors 28. Is a minimum age prescribed for local superiors? Every canonically erected religious house must have a local superior in the proper sense of this term. The prescriptions of canon 505 on the term of office and reappointment affect only minor local superiors. A minor local super