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Issue 53.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1994. ; ChriStian Heritages and Contempora~ Living MAY-J~ !994 ¯ VOIdUME 531 ¯ NUMBER3 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 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 libraw 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. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1994 " VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER3 contents 326 feature Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority Janet K. Ruffing RSM explores the Christian concepts of power and the developmental stages which lead to sharing power and to healing the wounds of authority we all bear. 34O 352 life in flux Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark Jane Ferdon OP and George Murphy SJ draw from their experience of spiritual direction to shed light upon some of the darkness experienced by women and men religious. Merging Provinces Gerald A. Arbuckle SM brings insights from cultural anthropology to the process of merging congregational provinces. 364 One Voice from the Middle Place Judith Ann Eby RSM speaks out as part of a new generation which interprets religious life differently from those whose background includes the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. 375 life in service Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Catherine Harmer MMS suggests that for the good of Catholic institutions it is time for religious to let go of some things and for lay people to take them on so that both groups can act at their best. 386 Being and Acting Holy for Ministry's Sake Clyde A. Bonar proposes some practical ways of being about our one ministry: to be holy. 397 Missionary by Nature William F. Hogan CSC focuses attention upon the essential missionary aspect of every Christian and religious vocation. 322 Review for Rellg~ous life of witness 402 How to Read the Lives of Saints of Old 415 Frederick G. McLeod SJ gives some helps for our understanding and appreciating the richness of meaning found in the lives of saints of old. Prayer Francis J. Ring SJ offers his personal history of praying as a support for all pilgrims in their prayer life. reflective life 420 Even at the Grave We Make Our Song Margaret Bullitt-Jonas explores how three symbols--the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension of Jesus Christ-- came to life as she prayed over her infant daughter's death. 436 A Letter to Dead Parents about Today's Life Eileen O'Hea CSJ writes about her present-day experience of religious life. 440 452 46O religious life in perspective Journeying to God Together Susan Beaudry PM and Edwin L. Keel SM suggest that what religious have to offer the people of God is the experience of the spiritual journey, with its wisdom and skills. Charism as Sonnet: Developmental Considerations S. Suzanne Mayer IHM offers various perspectives on living the charisms of religious life for the dynamic of personal growth. Hispanic Faith and Culture--and U.S.A. Religious Gloria In~s Loya PBVM explains the pillars, of ministry, community, and spirituality .which support religious life in a Mexican-American setting. departments 324 Prisms 467 Canonical Counsel: Directives for the Relationship between Bishops and Religious: Mutuae Relationes 473 Book Reviews May-.lWune 1994 323 prisms E those of us living in the midwestern part of the United States, the spring and early summer seasons bless us with a burst of flowering trees and shrubs and a continuing array of nature's living vari-ety. Obviously all these signs of life are not created out of nothing each year. In fact, the changing seasons remind us of how much life remains hidden from our daily human perspective. Seeds look to be so dry and lifeless. Even in planting them in lawn or garden, we can only wonder about and wait for the activities of life still hidden from our sight. Oceans appear to our eyes as only a huge volume of water, but oceans teem with life--mostly hidden beneath the sur-face- which marine biologists endlessly discover and observe and marvel at. If we buy into the impressions promoted by contem-porary advertising, we find ourselves acting as if what we see is what life is all about. Life as sold by secular culture seems to bankrupt itself in surface impressions. Just how limited such a vision of life is quicHy becomes apparent when we deal with moral and religious issues of human living. Abortion only becomes an option if people keep human life out of sight. Arguments for abortion deal with choices and rights, with nary a thought about the hid-denness of human life. "Ethnic cleansing," whether it be in E~rope, Africa, Asia, or America, is a cosmetic phrase to disguise the deadly idea that some peoples are more deserving of life than others. Put into practice, this deadly idea joins the age-old slave trading, the Nazi concentra-tion camps, and futuristic scientific cloning as another 324 Reviezv for Religious sadly and horrendously narrow human mishandling of human life. For all the words about environment and ecology and quality of human life, we seem unable to reverence the mystery of life-- visible life and hidden life--with which our world abounds. For the young Christian community at Colossae, St. Paul used the pregnant phrase that "our life is hidden now with Christ in God." Perhaps we need to reflect more on the hiddenness of our faith life and thereby come to an appreciation and reverence for the hiddenness of life in general. The fledgling Christian com-munity at Colossae realized that in everyday life they looked pretty much the same as everyone else. They ate, they drank, they sometimes went hungry, they married and had families, they got sick, they died; they had joys and sorrows. They gathered, of course, for Eucharist, and their concern and care for one another and anyone in need did give them some mark of distinctiveness. But overall they lived with a new reverence for life--from the very young to the very old. Why? Because the risen Christ in whom they all were baptized had brought them into a new rela-tionship to God and to one another--a relationship subtle as the Spirit but as real as the risen Christ himself. As Saul (now Paul the writer) experienced and many other persecutors have learned since his day, a voice insists that it is Jesus whom they persecute. We Christians hear Jesus insisting, "If you do it to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you are doing it to me." We touch here the source of the hidden life we all live in Christ. But Jesus does more than affect the hiddenness of human relationships--whatever tribe or nationality, religious affiliation or secular lifestyle. Because Jesus has taken on the darkness and hid-denness of suffering and death and by his rising joined it into a new fullness of life, the physical world in which we live is not the same as it was. Suffering and death are not just problems to be solved and if possible eliminated; suffering and death, now seen in a wholly new relationship to life in the risen Christ, must also be met with reverence. In the midst of all our necessary human efforts to relieve the suffering in our world, we believers stand with reverence before suffering, lfor we know. with the sureness of faith that because of Christ life lies hidden even in suffering, sometimes especially in suffering. Therein, deep down, like life in winter, lives Christian joy and the root of Christian reverence for life. David L. Fleming SJ May-ffvtne 1994 325 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: Women, Power, and Authority The FORUS study in its general conclusions identified authority as "perhaps the most pressing question for reli-gious to resolve."' Underneath the question of authority, I find at least two foundational themes which need to be explored--the meaning of leadership in religious congre-gations in light of differing interpretations of power and authority and the specifically religious qualities of lead-ership. As I study the current research on religious life, I continue to uncover the deep ground of grace out of which religious life grows and flourishes. I remain convinced that we cannot hope to understand the reality of contem-porary religious life without probing this depth level of religious experience. The present theological, interdisci-plinary, experiential reflections address such questions as: Leadership for what? VChat obstacles impede our ability to collaborate? Part II addresses questions about religious leadership: How do leaders support the ongoing conver-sion implied as we discover new dimensions of the Christ mystery in our lives and ministries? What ultimately sus-tains us in our calling? "Authority in many U.S. institutions, including reli-gious life, has.undergone deconstruction. Variable under- Janet Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spir-itual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education at Fordham University. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. The second part of her article, "If Christ Is Growing in U~," will appear in our July-August 1994 issue. 326 Review for Religious standings of consensus, subsidiarity, discernment, and leadership have diffused understandings of authority. The abuse of author-ity in the past makes individuals reluctant to endorse authority in any way.''2 It is clear from the FORUS study that these differ-ing views of authority and the corresponding understandings of obedience exist within single institutes as well as across insti-tutes. As a result, leadership is sometimes severely impaired in its ability to lead; while in other instances leadership is experi-enced as empowering and free-ing for mission. Authority functions and is understood differently when charism is taken seriously and when governance takes adult discipleship into account. Women religious particularly have been redefining the mean-ing of obedience and authority in ways particularly suited to their awareness of their needs and desires as women. The FORUS study reports that vision groups "view authority as power that is shared among commu-nities of equals,''3 These changes in understandings of authority are related to how such a vision of power and authority and the impli-cations for redefining a vow of obedience appear, to many women to be more compatible with gospel values than does the post- Tridentine version of authority. Women religious as a group, espe-cially at the level of leadership, are pressing for a more enabling exercise of power among themselves. Although religious desire to maintain an ecclesial identity, the FORUS study reports a "lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in general.''4 According to this study, women are acutely aware of their exclu-sion from leadership by the clerical church. Women religious are looking at church in new ways; they have embraced a clear com-mitment to changing this church. Clerical resistance to this change will further diminish the capacity of women's communities to Apostolic religious women will not fully stabilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until ecclesial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. NIay-j~ne 1994 327 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way attract the very women who are looking for a public context in society and church that is meaningful for their dedication and service. In my opinion, apostolic religious women will not fully sta-bilize nor be able to attract and retain new vocations until eccle-sial conflicts about the church's mission and the contribution of religious within it are resolved. This includes not only resolving the role of women in the church but also arriving at an operative consensus of the role of the church in the modern world. Religious are in a real sense church people whose mission and identity lie at the heart of the ~hurch's own. The Brooldand Commission Study reported that 94 percent of their respondents named the self-understanding of the church developed in the wake of Vatican II to be a source in forming their ideas about what is essential to religious life.s To the extent that the larger church is ambiEalent about the directions set by the council, religious life will con-tinue to be at risk. In the context of these recent studies which indicate both sig-nificant change and continuing confusion, I will describe the psy-choanalytic roots of our attitudes toward authority, explore several concepts of power disclosed in the New Testament, and reflect on women and power. I will end with the Whiteheads' descriptions of both the developmental stages which lead to sharing power in Christian communities and the necessary task of healing the wounds of authority which we all bear. Formative Experiences with Authority One's basic stance toward authority, those whom I perceive to be "in charge" or more powerful than I, is usually determined by my early experiences with my mother and father and then with institutional authorities such as teachers and other authority fig-ures. This experience forms how I relate to God as an ultimate authority, how I relate to situations of injustice, how I relate to my own authority, and. how I relate to ambiguous authority. (Ambiguous authority refers to that exercise of authority which is usually benign but which is occasionally overbearing or oppres-sive.) If my experience has been one in which authority was exer-cised with genuine love and for my good, I will tend to respect and trust authority. I will creatively participate with authority, and I 328 Review for Religious will feel comfortable being critical of this authority. These responses are based on a sense that persons in authority have benign motives and are both fallible and rational. In other words, were I to present information missing from a decision, that new information would be taken into account and I would not be pun-ished for making a suggestion. Authority exercised with love is neither physically nor verbally abusive, but consistently treats me with respect. On the other hand, if my experience has been one in which authority was not so exercised, fear will be my dominant emo-tional response. I will either conform to the wishes of authority to avoid notice or abuse or I will rebel against it. Neither rebel-lion nor conformity are particularly healthy responses because both are rooted in a feeling of alienation and powerlessness. Authority functions against me and I feel powerless to do much about it. If I rebel, I choose noncooperation. I do not help to change the situation; instead, I may create a separate peace by withdrawing or opposing. If I conform, I do so because I feel powerless. I do not tell the truth but tell them only what they want to hear to avoid conflict. Since I perceive authority to be unloving and irrational, rational discourse cannot achieve any-thing fruitful, so I do not even try. Of course, no one is a pure type, and all usually have had some experience of both forms of authority. But most of the time I inhabit one attitude more than the other. I either offer myself to the process of authority-mak-ing or I withdraw in fear from participation. If my early experience is primarily loving and rational, I will experience God's authority to be for my good; I will recognize and" act against situations of injustice; I will experience my own inner authority and act out of it in nondefensive ways; and I will be able to be critical. I can tell the truth in the face of ambiguous experiences of authority. I can afford to see that a given person in authority has room to grow in the way he or she exercises that authority. New Testament Concepts of Power The New Testament presents two concepts of power. It addresses the way authority exercises power through the behav-ior and teaching of Jesus, and it begins to redefine power as the activity of God in our midst. "Power in the kingdom of God will May-June 1994 329 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way be totally different from power as it is exercised in the kingdom of Satan (the world). The power of Satan is the power of domi-nation and oppression, the power of God is the power of service and freedom." 6 All the kingdoms and nations of this present world are governed by the power of domination and force. The struc-ture of the kingdom of God will be determined by the power of spontaneous loving service which people render to one another. In Mark, Jesus puts it this way: "You know that among the pagans their so-called rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you. No; any-one who wants to become great among you must be your servant (diakonos), and anyone who wants to be first among you must be a slave (doulos) to all. For the son of man himself did not come to serve but to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:42-45, Mk 9:35). This teaching occurs in all three synoptics and is par-alleled by the footwashing pericope in John's gospel. "You call me teacher and lord, rightly so--if I your teacher and Lord have washed your feet--so also ought you to wash one another" (Jn 13:14). This is an example of the way power is to be exercised among the disciples--placing ourselves at the service of one another's freedom, calling forth from one another by our exam-ple "kingdom qualities," and releasing the power of the commu-nity in mission. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. As Albert Nolan says, "The power of this new soci-ety is not a power which has to be served, a power before which a person must bow down and cringe. It is the power which has an enormous influence in the lives of people by being of service to them." 7 Also relevant to this discussion is Jesus' attitude to the law, the power which enabled religious rulers to dominate and oppress. Jesus consistently attacked this abuse of the law. He rejected any interpretation which was used against people. The law was meant to serve genuine human needs and interests. Unfortunately, many fear the responsibility of freedom. We seek the security of a law which gives us prestige and allows us to dominate, or we let others make decisions for us, hiding behind rules, relying on the letter rather than on the spirit of the law. In so doing we enslave ourselves by our fear of freedom, and we deny freedom to others as well. Jesus does not abolish the law, but relativizes it so that we will take responsibility for the sys-tems we create and use them to serve the needs of humanity. The 330 Review for Religious exercise of power and authority in God's kingdom is to be func-tional. It should embody the arrangements that are necessary if we are to serve one another willingly and effectively. Every type of domination and servitude is to be abolished, including religious forms of these abuses. The New Testament also speaks about another kind of power--the power that comes from on high over Mary, the Holy Spirit, who also comes upon the community gathered in Jesus' name after the resurrec-tion. Jesus' ministry is characterized by a release of God's power as he expels demons and heals those who believe. The woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus, and power goes out from him. In Luke, all try to touch Jesus in order to be healed because power emanates from him. When Jesus sends out the disciples to preach, he confers power on them, not to rule but to heal and to cast out demons. Jesus releases in our midst freedom from all that binds us. He heals and forgives sin and invites us to share in this power for good which is the Spirit's action in us. We, as apostolic women, are empowered by that same Spirit. We are called to develop ways of making decisions, organizing our lives, and harmonizing our gifts so that this holy power for mission is released in each of us and in the group as a whole. The disciples had trouble understanding this; they kept mixing up these two kinds of power, wanting to rule and lord it over others rather than releasing the God life to its own ends. Jesus is very clear about the difference between domination and service. Women and Power As women we can often remain confused about these texts and themes. We have been trained in our tradition to be power-less-- to be the servants. Kathleen Fischer puts it this way: "Rhetoric about servanthood has often been used against women, trapping us in subservient roles. As suffering servant Jesus exer-cises power in the service of rglationships,.affirming the dignity and worth of each individual. He empowered others, unlocking their deepest desires and enabling them to use their best gifts."s Women's role in the church has been designated as the subordi-nate one (servants) while others have assumed the positions of May-June 1994 331 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. authority, taking charge, lording it over, and engaging in ritual footwashings while not holding power lightly. As a result, women find themselves oppressed by religious authority and in a posi-tion of permanent subordination. Since power has been a bad word among Christian women, we perceive it as a negative and dangerous reality. Because it is something none of us is to have or exercise, we are therefore often mysti-fied by the use of power in the church and in religious congregations. We do not want anything to do with power, and we may be afraid to exercise it. If we want power, we must be bad. Exercising power in our own interest can leave us feeling selfish, self-destruc-five, or threatened in our relationships. This ambivalence about power and our social conditioning in patriarchal sys-tems create a situation in which we often exercise our power indirectly or unconsciously. Or we may become con-fused and anxious when conflict or struggle comes out into the open. If we do exercise power unconsciously, we will probably do to others exactly what has been done to us. So as not to oppress anyone else as we have been oppressed, we need to understand power differently. We need to see power as a strength and understand how to participate in the healthy use of power. Jean Baker Miller redefines power simply as the "capacity to implement.''9 Expressing power does not need to be coercive or oppressive. Women, however, do not exercise power any better than men unless we become conscious and critical of how and when we express power. The Whiteheads on Power In the American church many men and women, clergy and laity, struggle to reflect critically on their experience of power in ecclesial contexts and to change how that power is expressed. Recent writings by Evelyn and James Whitehead have supported this struggle by exploring gospel understandings of power in the 332 Review for Religious light of the contemporary social sciences. In their work with hun-dreds of teams and in workshops across the country, they found that the single greatest obstacle to collaboration is a mystifica-tion about power along with the inability of many people in authority to share power. The Whiteheads define power and authority this way:l° Authority is the right to command or exercise power in relationship to the goals and values of the group. It is vested in persons (elected leaders) or in offices (specific roles/func-tions). Who or how the "vesting" occurs may be formal (appointment, election, consensus) or informal. But the social group recognizes the function of authority and the process of transferring it from one person to another. Power is the achievement or control of effects. Often it is the ability to produce a change. It may or may not coincide with authority. The Whiteheads continue: It is always present in interpersonal relationships. It is every way of exercising influence over another. One person is always subject to the power of another and no one is com-pletely without power. Power refers to the interactions among us. Finally, they say "power is best. perceived as those interac-tions that both create and threaten human community." According to the FORUS study, it is this definition of power as a resource to be shared that emerges as the dominant view of power among visionary people in religious life. The question remains: How operative is this understanding of power in religious life? In The Promise of Partnership, the Whiteheads consider that one of the primary tasks of religious leadership is to foster the transformation of our experience of power. If religious leaders genuinely exercise power in a manner consonant with the New Testament's understanding, they will use their power to welcome the power of others. They will use their role as leaders to enable those they lead to experience their shared strength in the group. As we mature in personal strength, we experience different modes of power. Early experiences and cultural influences can delay or impede our being comfortable with more mature expres-sions of power. Relying 0n David McClelland's work, the Whiteheads describe four basic orientations toward personal power--receiving power, achieving autonomy, expressing power, and sharing power. ~ May-j~une 1994 333 Ruling * Leadership a New Way Faces of Power Childhood is our basic experience of feeling strong because we are cared for and supported in our growing by our parents. When we are nurtured well, we learn to feel safe in the presence of oth-ers' power. We are empowered by this protection. Feeling empow-ered by others in this way continues into adulthood when we are strengthened by friendship, teamwork, or collaboration. I can feel comfortable receiving care and competence from others, and ][ do not have to rely entirely or only on myself. If I grew up in an unsafe environment, I learned not to trust or I remember depen-dence as demeaning and shameful. Adult experiences can also dis-appoint us and cause us to withdraw, but they are often overcome when we fall in love again or open ourselves again to a new rela-tionship. Autonomy is the strength we have on our own. In achieving autonomy we celebrate our self-reliance and self-sufficiency. Acting on nay own behalf expands my sense of power. Having developed some skills and competencies, I become an agent in my own life. Collaboration depends on my having some basic confidence in my own resources. If I lack autonomy, I will under-mine any partnership through my dependency. However, if I do not learn how to move beyond self-sufficiency, collaboration and openness to outside influence will feel like weakness, for it will imply that my own resources are deficient. Women often have difficulty in achieving autonomy unless the culture in which they function values their self-sufficiency and personal agency. Some religious communities have impeded this development in their members while others have fostered it but have not yet been able to direct this self-reliant energy back into communal projects. Expressing power turns us outward, as we begin to influence others and have an impact on our world. At this stage we feel strong when we influence the world beyond ourselves. A new sense of power stirs when we express our ideas, make demands of others, assume responsibility, take charge, and when others respond favorably. McClelland found that this orientation was prominent among management, supervisors, lawyers, and people in the helping professions. Success in all these fields depends on being able to influence the attitudes and behaviors of others. Personal assertion and social influence are the two particular resources of this power. However, these resources can be dis-played differently. Some express power exclusively in a combative 334 Review for Religious stance of competition with a need to dominate. A leader who feels strong only in this way easily becomes authoritarian. This kind of leader may function effectively in a military unit, but not as well in a helping role or in organizational leadership. !n these roles it is more appropriate to feel power-ful when motivating others, offering assistance, coordinating resources, and helping a group move toward its goals. The shadow side of this abil-ity to influence is dominance and control. Maturity lures us toward still another face of power--feeling strong in sharing power. People at this stage feel themselves to be per-sonally strong and also involved with something larger than themselves. Something beyond self-interest--the will of God, or commitment to a vision--prompts their action. They feel both powerful and empowered, strong both in autonomy and in col-laboration. These people welcome interdependence, the ability to enjoy mutual influence and mutual empowerment. When we work together the power we share increases and enhances my strength. The outcome that emerges from this interplay of interdepen-dence is less mine, yet I feel stronger because something better has resulted. Genuine interdependence is possible only if a significant num-ber of the members of religious communities mature to this fourth level of power. The hierarchical church, in its current exercise of power, shares power minimally. One group is authorized to express power and another group, namely the laity, receives it. If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. Much of the governance journey in religious life for women has been toward this mode of sharing power. The old way of lead-ership is not capable of fostering the full religious'maturity of its members. A single charismatic leader can function in level three If actual partnership is to flourish in the ecclesial community, we need an abundance of religious leaders who value sharing power and who are not threatened by widening the sources of influence. May-June 1994 335 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way of this schema, but that requires the entire group to submit to that individual charism. I believe the gifts of grace and discern-ment are distributed both more broadly and more abundantly than that. If we truly believe that our charisms live in all of us, that God's spirit releases an outpouring of energy and power, then sharing power is the only style of religious leadership that has the flexibility and openness to engage in the discernment of these movements. Healing the Wounds of Authority The FORUS study critiques dysfunctional religious leader-ship in many religious communities. I understand that much of this dysfunction is a manifestation of incomplete adult ddvelop-ment. For authentic interdependence and collaboration to be pos-sible, those in leadership must be committed to continuing their own development and to fostering the development of their mem-bers. Healing the wounds of authority is often an integral part of the process.12 The Whiteheads describe a continuum of growth in our per-spective about authority. It moves from the perception that power and authority are completely external to ourselves to the percep-tion that we confer authority in partnership with others for com-mon goals. Women in religious life stand all along the continuum. The way authority used to be exercised was coercive. A large part of our individual and corporate journey through renewal has involved deconstructing coercive authority and either avoiding the question of authority altogether (hence not a few resistant women in our midst) or constructing an entirely new way of exer-cising it. Briefly, the Whiteheads portray the function of authority as expanding life, making power more abundant, and calling others to collaborative partnership. However, many of us find ourselves unable to respond to this adult invitation to share power. We per-sist in viewing authority as external to ourselves, with those in authority holding on to power as a permanent and privileged pos-session to be used as they see fit. This kind of authority makes us feel like either children or victims, vulnerable and liable to be hurt when we interact with authority. We project onto our lead-ers impossible expectations, [equiring them to be all things to all people. We treat them as different from us, more knowledgeable, 336 Review for Religious more wise, more talented. Such projection masks our irresponsi-bility and delays our process of maturing. A more mature approach to authority views leaders very much as we view ourselves. We hope they are competent, but we under-stand that they have no special access to wisdom. They, too, are limited, fallible, susceptible to bias and error. No longer something leaders do to us, authority becomes relativized and results in a sense of partnership. Rather than benefi-ciaries, victims, or observers, we become participants with leaders in shaping the best decisions. How do we heal the wounds of authority? Transformation begins, according to the Whiteheads, whenever a crisis causes us to examine behavior that no longer works, whether it he avoidirig authority, fighting it, or trying to win its approval. The process moves through the successive stages of withdrawal, disbelief, self-scrutiny, and authority-making. In withdrawal I recognize that I have put authority outside myself and retreat to an inner place. My external behavior may not change much, hut basically I ignore authority and its claims on me. In the stage of disbelief, I realize that I am more than what authority thinks of me. My sense of self and self-worth no longer depends on external authority. This stage may begin as rebel-lion--" Who says this is the way things are?" I question how things are and think about how things could or should be. I recognize that how things are is often merely the way those in power have decided they should be, sometimes benefiting the leaders more than anyone else. The risk of disbelief is that it can harden into skepticism that rejects all exercise of authority. I can be preoc-cupied with exposing the faults and failings of those in authority when I do not yet see myself as an equal. The stage of self-scrutiny allows me to recognize how I have participated in maintaining coercive authority all along, whether by elevating those in authority, attacking them, or blaming them for things for which I am also responsible. I become able to ask We project onto our leaders impossible expectations, requiring them to be all things to all people. Such projection masks our irresponsibility and delays our process of maturing. May-June 1994 337 Ruling ¯ Leadership a New Way the critical question: When is the influence of external authority-- a leader, a value system, a set of laws--legitimate in my life? A cer-tain level of intellectual and emotional maturity is required in order to respond freely, neither compulsed to negate these demands nor anxious to satisfy a hidden motive. I understand that, as I have contributed to my own oppression, I can participate in my own empowerment. When I can exercise my personal power in response to author-ity both by taking initiative and obeying, I have reached the stage of authority-making. At this stage, I am able to face conflict if nec-essary in the pursuit of a common purpose. This is possible only after I have recognized my prior negative contribution through fear, apathy, or magical thinking. The Whiteheads caution that one cannot wait until this stage is completed; even conscious of wounds and the continuing process of healing, I need to be engaged as a partner in authority.13 The unhealed wounds of authority are frequently the unac-knowledged agenda when leaders and members experience tension between individualism and the common good. Authority will be interpreted and experienced differently depending on the level of healing and the vision of exercising power espoused by each religious. If leaders can encourage communities to begin to heal the wounds of authority and if the majority of the members can endure the pain of growth in this developmental process to become capable of sharing power, our communities will be very different. Both leaders and members will be partners in codis-cernment, as both respond to the ever changing call to be shaped by and to express in life and ministry their shared charism and discipleship of Jesus. According to the FORUS study, outstanding women leaders were extremely active in securing the commitment of the group to appropriate actions or decisions. They used their positional and personal power to influence outcomes, but not at the cost of diminishing the sharing of power in the group. Further they tended "to encourage participation of those they lead, share power and information with them, and enhance their self-worth and energize them." ~4This style of leadership has been pioneered largely by women in a variety of settings as well as in religious life. Clearly, one of the gifts religious women can offer the church is the healing of our wounds of authority and our growth in sharing power, thereby releasing the power of God's spirit in our midst. 338 Review for Religious Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Research Executive Summary: Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22 (24 September 1992): 271. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid, p. 268. 4 Ibid, p. 271. 5 Katarina Schuth, "The Intellectual Life as a Value for Women Religious in the United States," Appendix: Survey, Brookland Commission paper, 16-18 October 1992, 10. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1976 and 1992), p. 84. v Ibid, p. 85. 8 Kathleen Fischer, VVomen at the Well: Feminist Perspectives on Spi~qtual Direction (Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 140. 9 See Jean Baker Miller, Toward a New P~chology of FVomen (Boston: Beacon, 1976 and 1986), for a full discussion of the topic women and power. ~0 Evelyn and James. Whitehead, Emerging Laity: Retm~zing Leadership to the Community of Faith (New York: Image, 1988), p. 36. ~ The description which follows is dependent on Evelyn and James Whitehead, The Promise of Partnership: Leadership and Minist~7 in an Adult Church (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), pp. 115-127. ~2 See "Healing the Wounds of Authority," in Promise, pp. 27-36, for the full description of this schema. ~3 It should be apparent that only in these latter two stages of self-scrutiny and authority-making is discernment possible. 14 David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 413. May-June 1994 339 JANE FERDON AND GEORGE MURPHY Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark life flux ¯ he renewal of religious life over the past thirty years has generated a series of expected and unexpected results. One of the most puzzling is the persistence of darkness. Despite massive and heroic efforts to update and achieve renewal, many groups and individuals are continually deal-ing with a darkness that nothing seems to dispel. As men and women religious and bishops prepare for the Roman Synod on religious life, people will inevitably both review the transitional years since Vatican II and envision the future. They will gather and analyze data from many different perspectives. We would like to offer the perspective of spiritual direction and our experience of working as spiritual directors with men and women reli-gious.~ Theological, sociological, psychological, economic, political, and cultural perspectives all help in the under-standing of religious life. From spiritual direction we can see how people's experience of God has renewed them and how their experience of darkness, the apparent or real absence of God, has purified or stultified them. People's experiences of God in moments of light, energy, joy, and enthusiasm have received refined attention Jane Ferdon oP and George Murphy SJ are adjunct faculty at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where they have been directing a practicum in spiritual direction. Their address is Jesuit School of Theology; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709-1193. 340 Review for Religious and have been deservedly relished. There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with oth-ers how God is present among us. People are taking apostolic risks and are praying regularly and contemplatively. Many are concerned with the poor and with unjust structures. People strive for integrity, some even risking their lives to protest war and nuclear arms. Others give their lives as martyrs, witnesses of God's concern for God's peo-ple. Some are willing boldly to confront evil both within the church and outside it. There are many reasons to hope. It is precisely in this context that we need to interpret dark-ness, both individually and col-lectively, to ponder its impact and to move toward light. The subject of darkness is not attrac-tive. By its very nature it can evoke self-criticism and blame. We intend neither. Our purpose is to portray people's experience and to raise some serious questions for reflection and considera-tion. We are convinced that only by scrutinizing the darkness can we be more free to enjoy the new life and energy in our midst. Then, with courage, we can pass on what we have learned to the next generation of women and men religious. Admittedly, some-times we have neither the strength nor the disposition to deal with darkness. As painful as it might be, we believe that God is calling women and men religious and the church not only to look at the light but also to discern the darkness. Experiences of darkness are only beginning to be probed and 'mined.z Our thesis is that sometimes darkness is holy; God is present and waiting in the darkness. This is the dark night of There are encouraging signs of new vitality in religious life: a growing freedom in people, more laughter, a refusal to be victimized, an ability to love and receive affection, a desire to know God more and share with others how God is present among us. May-.~ne 1994 341 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark senses or of spirit that Teresa and John of the Cross perceptively explored for their times and now needs contemporary examina-tion. 3 Another darkness, however, is unholy because God is not present in the abyss. This darkness is destructive rather than cre-ative. It is the realm of the prince of darkness, a darkness that needs to be named and avoided or robbed of its hold. In prayer as in life many women and men religious have expe-rienced both forms of darkness; but how do we discern the dif-ference? Are some of the more stubborn blocks to the renewal of religious life examples of the power of the unholy dark? Is the future of religious life to be found only in the holy dark? Some women and men religious feel trapped in a dark place, clawing interiorly to be set free, wanting to find a way out of dreary con-trolled maintenance, making work their escape and ministry a substitute for a vital relationship with God. For more than a few, religious life as it is does not satisfy; church life as it is does not satisfy. The experience is one of darkness. One woman religious who had served many years in admin-istration described her experience of darkness this way: There is no doubt that religious life is in transition. Many men and women religious feel something is missing in reli-gious life. We sometimes sense it in liturgies, at meetings, in group assemblies, in discussions. We go away hungry. Something deep within is left unsatisfied. So we try harder, photocopy more papers, quote more authors, add more meetings, review statistics, hire consultants. We multiply information, yet increasingly remain dissatisfied and weary. Deep within we sense something is missing still. We assume it is the times, the culture, the lack of leadership or the apa-thy of membership. Vocations continue to decline. The membership's vitality is diminishing. It is a telling situa-tion. How do we read its message? A male religious who is a college psychologist described his experience: There are signs that religious life is dying or at least seri-ously sick. There are too many unhappy persons, unhappy communities, and unhappy work situations in religious life today. One needn't look far to find depression, codepen-dence, anesthetized feelings, controlled conversations. While one sees many people who work hard, often to the point of burnout, their work has a joylessness about it. No matter how much one does, it seems never to be enough. One sees too many men and women religious who do not 342 Review for Religious have much joy in living. Some clothe their depression with false piety and pious clichds. Others become TV addicts. Some have become drug addicts. They misuse prescriptive medication or alcohol. Many practice massive denial. They think everything is fine or would be if we prayed more or were more cheerful. Few people are entering; some are still leaving or staying because it is too late in life to begin again. Those who stay in religious life are aging. Even our efforts at renewal seem short lived, using bandages and patent medicine. A devil chased out, the house left empty, new devils take up housekeeping.4 If we liken this period of transition in religious life to wan-dering in the wilderness (a "desert experience"), some dynamics become clear. It can be an exodus from what oppresses to what frees, or it can be an endless exile in the wilderness. We must dis-tinguish whether there is movement forward or paralysis. Are we simply wandering in circles? Many in religious life feel an oppres-sion of spirit. What used to work no longer fits the present real-ity. It is a time of letting go, yet there is a fear of losing precious valuables,s We know we cannot go back, yet we have grave diffi-culty moving forward. Perhaps our renewal has not reached the depth of genuine conversion. We may be stuck in a desert place, tired of the journey, helpless in finding direction, and discour-aged about our future. In this desert experience of transition, it becomes critical to notice the difference between honest disenchantment and crip-pling disillusionment. Many forget that disenchantment can be the beginning of a positive experience. "The point is that disen-chantment, whether it is a minor disappointment or major shock, is the signal that things are moving into transition. At such times we need to consider whether the old view or belief may not have been an enchantment cast on us in the past to keep us from see-ing deeper into ourselves and others than we were ready to. For the whole idea of disenchantment is that reality has many layers, each appropriate to a phase of intellectual and spiritual develop-ment. The disenchantment experience is the signal that the time has come to look below the surface of what has been thought to be so.''6 Are we unknowingly prolonging our transition because we fear being disloyal to the past by recognizing some of its limits? Would we rather prolong the exile than move to a deeper level of honesty or confront the darkness? "The disenchanted person recognizes the old view as suffi- May-June 1994 343 Ferdon and Murphy * Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark cient in its time, but insufficient now.''7 The disillusioned person simply rejects the earlier view. While the disenchanted person moves on, the disillusioned person stops and goes through the same play or pattern again. Many in religious life remain disillu-sioned rather than disenchanted. There is no real movement from ending to beginnings. So patterns are repeated. One changes one's ministry, school, or parish and never goe~ through the interior process of ending to begin. There are no good-byes. There is no letting go. A priest takes the "geographical cure" and moves to another university or parish only to be hounded by the same issues and behavior, but with a different cast of characters. A sister switches ministry. She leaves grade school teaching, tries pastoral care, goes away for a renewal program, begins a theology degree, and lands in a parish facing the same internal dynamics only in a different set of circumstances. Disillusionment grows. A sense of failure increases. There are many reasons to be afraid. Our fears can be para-lyzing. The crucial discernment is whether God is inviting us into the dark. If so, what are the indications of God's invitation? The danger is that we just presume either that darkness is a reality or that God is welcoming us into the darkness when neither is true. When God asks us to look at the dark, God will be present with us. God's presence may not make the dark less dark, but God's presence assures us that we are not alone. In the unholy dark, God is not present. We often get preoccupied with negative voices. An accusatory voice convinces us that we must save our-selves, and we know that is hopeless. Evil asserts its fascination. We step into the darkness alone and meet chaos. Frequently this same dynamic asserts itself in prayer. For instance, one fears the God who will ask too much, the God who demands great suffering from those who are faithful. Thus, the focus of one's reflections becomes the possible forms of suffer-ing rather than dialogue with God. The accompanying affect is naturally negative: fear, anxiety, worry, stress. Often there is guilt and a loss of self-esteem: "Why is it I cannot do what God wants?" Notice what is really happening: the person is preoccupied with the anticipated suffering, not with God. Has God asked for suf-fering, or is it what we assume God wants? Moreover, does one then avoid the God who asks too much by evading prayer? Instead there may be a dangerous substitute for prayer: reflection on self and what one is unable to do rather than asking God what God Review for Religious wants or telling God of one's fears and worries. Prayer becomes unattractive, Unfortunately, so does God. In place of evoking the presence of God and feeling the security of an abiding presence, prayer becomes a reflection on one's fears. What spirit led us to this quagmire? As fears multiply and resentments fester, even the desire for prayer fades. Sadly, this desolation can go on for years as one comes to resent the God whom we think of as asking the impossible. Perhaps the question we must ask ourselves both individually and collectively is: Have we lost some-thing of a sacred focus? What if it is a divine focus that is missing? Men and women religious frequently claim that rarely does our conversa-tion reach the level of the holy: the moments when a reverent silence fills us, the sense that God is near, not because of a timeless theological assumption, but because of a present shared experience. Is it this elo-quence of the holy that is missing? Is it this level of engagement we can-not seem to reach? The disciples and our spiritual ancestors bonded and dreamed; they boldly proclaimed God's word because they talked among themselves of their encounters with and memories of the holy. Do we? Are we fear-ful, anxious or embarrassed? What if there is no real experience of God? What if others ridicule what is deepest within? What if one has to admit it has been a long, long time since God and I really communicated, not just through rote prayer or disciplined meditation, but by genuine, engaging talk---listening, speaking, feeling, discerning--earthy God-talk. We assume that something is God's will. Rarely do we wres-tle long enough with God's word to know what God really wants. Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. The irony is that sometimes it is easier to acknowledge the depth of feeling than to endure the tiring mechanisms of avoidance. It is no Often we are unable to identify and face our own deepest desires. It is a frightening business to feel underneath the feelings, to ponder something long enough to get to the root emotion. May-.l~une 1994 345 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark wonder we have lost a genuine spiritual fluency. Perhaps it is a clue to why we wander in circles rather than move forward. Thus we prolong the transition. Moreover, in our frustration we can make another or others the enemy rather than going more deeply into a conscious examination of our primary relationship, our indi-vidual relationship with God. How much time, attention, thought, affect, dialogue, and development does this relationship get in my day, week, month? Is it really primary? If it is not, what is primary and why? Did something get lost? Can it be found, renewed, enlivened? Who got distracted? To borrow again from the exodus experience: Have we lost sight of the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night (Ex 13:21- 22)? As a result, do we turn inward with murmuring, grumbling, and accusation (Ex 14:11-12)? Do we feel the disillusionment and strain? As many older men and women religious explain, "This is not the community I entered." We want to tui'n back, not in con-version but out of reluctance. Perhaps we cannot see what is ahead because our backward look prevents us. A woman therapist who sees many men and women religious observed: "Many religious are desperate: body work, crystals, cen-tering prayer, dance, Eastern philosophy, psychotherapy, twelve-step programs, dream work, even hypnosis and psychics have been tried as means to greater peace. The tragedy is that often the means becomes the primary focus. The divine gets lost in the search; searching becomes an end." We become the doers, for-getting that another is there with us, the one to wtiom we are committed by vows. Then we begin consciously or unconsciously to accomplish our own redemption. The Redeemer is forgotten, not deliberately, not consciously, not entirely, but somehow God becomes a distant figure or shadowy image, definitely out of focus, perhaps a memory. Yet, without this presence and this power, there can be no real vision. No wonder we sense something is missing. Someone might be missing, One without whom we can-not move forward. Individual experiences become the dynamic of the group. Often at community or congregational meetings and assemblies there is a clearly defined role for facilitators so that the group process is efficient and the stated objectives are met. Seldom is the same authority given to the spiritual dynamics operative in any group process where men and women religious gather. At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover- 346 Review for Religious up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. It can be a form of resistance too. Is there more fear or more freedom in the group? Are there indications of a holy or unholy spirit? Are these named and identified? Which gets more developed. Why have the spiritual dynamics operative in any religious group not been given equal emphasis? One does not wish to propose false piety: the "God will provide" rationale for avoidance. However, we must be wary of an administrative, eco-nomic, or psychological reduc-tionism. Who watches, identifies, articulates the movements or countermovements of the spirit in general chapters? Is it a con-cern? How much time, discus-sion, reflection, or debate is this crucial factor given? Do we assume that all we do is blessed and good, making discernment unnecessary? Are our governing bodies more task- or discern-ment- oriented? If the former, is this one reason we seem so often to repeat patterns? Do we scrutinize the spiritual implications as carefully as we do the financial ones? Do we endure less freedom by letting outside influences rather than spiritual profundities dictate most of our decisions? Do we leave room for the spirit to speak, or do we simply presume or even pretend that we are all speaking in the same tongue? Do we then consider those who disagree misfits? It is worth remembering that, whenever there is no dialogue, there is a breach of freedom. Of course, one can agree to dis-agree, provided one has been heard--but in many congregations many voices are silent. This silence speaks. Can we listen to the silence? Sometimes we are afraid. Besides, the tasks need to get done. Our social analysis must move on to the next phase. The danger is that the tasks do get done, but not always satisfactorily. The initial peace or relief that the job was accomplished does not bear fruit. Too frequently the very same issues come back to haunt us. That experience demands a refined discernment of spirits, not At times, the belief that God is everywhere becomes an unconscious cover-up for a lack of the divine perspective or an abdication of spiritual responsibility. May-June 1994 347 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark just reworded policies. If we were collectively to allow the deeper issues to emerge from a time of discernment, we might face very different topics in our chapters and assemblies and our spiritual governance. Do we tend to look at what we can control? Often the Spirit will introduce us to what is beyond our control. This can be cause for delight or cause for fear, which can of itself be a grace-filled revelation. In this desert experience of transition, we must check where have we built our altars: what are we worshiping? On the exodus journey there were two collections in the desert. In one God asks the people for gold to build a sanctuary that God might dwell in their midst (Ex 25:1-9). The other occurred because of a long delay. The Israelites became impa-tient with Moses, and so they contributed their valuables towards the making of a golden calf. Where are our valuables going? To discern a group's focus and leadership is not a luxury; it is a mat-ter of life and death. To choose life is to have God dwelling among us. This choice comes out of freedom. To choose death is to cre-ate our own god, to guarantee our own future. This choice comes out of impatience and disillusionment. The first heralds a sacred beginning; the second repeats a sinful ending not much different from the pyramid building that was supposedly abandoned, an apt example of disillusionment's repetition of patterns. God bids "a collection from the heart" (Ex 25:1). Where are our hearts calling us? Can we let go of old ways to begin anew? It is imperative to explore the darkness. If it is holy, then there is a presence in the darkness. We are in a safe place, and there is a reason we have been beckoned there. Perhaps a vision will emerge. If it is unholy dark, then we must flee the desola-tion. The dark mood that many men and women religious expe-rience can be a developing spirituality. It is time to go deeper; even if we must first address fear or reluctance. Nonetheless, there is an attraction or longing. Reluctance can be a form of darkness. Depression can sometimes be a side effect. Whether the darkness is a form of the dark night or a stubborn paralysis of spirit needs thoughtful attention as well as careful delineation. To explore the darkness is not an optional task; it is a spiritual mandate. However much good therapy has done for many men and women religious, it can still become a substitute for intimacy, for community, and even for God. It is a contemporary irony that authority is sometimes given to therapists that would never be given to religious superiors or confessors. If the darkness is pri- 348 Review for Religious marily psychological, then one must use therapeutic tools. But what if the darkness is primarily spiritual and the depression a side effect? Is this issue being sufficiently addressed? There is no doubt about the spiritual side effects of depression, but what about the possibility that the current mood among many women and men religious is a form of spiritual desolation or even a form of consolation that goes unrecognized because of the awful sense of empti-ness? The helps for relieving depression might be quite different from the remedy for desolation. Certainly one wants to pursue ther-apy if the darkness in prayer results from psychological blocks or bio-chemical factors. If this darkness is spiritual desolation, however, then an active spiritual response and practical spiritual directives are called for. If the darkness is an exodus leading to something more, then it is consoling. If it amounts to going around in circles, it is frustrating, purposeless, and diminishing. Moreover, fidelity to it is a sham. Discerning the darkness is not only an individual task, but also a collective one. Depression or darkness of spirit can lead to self-absorption or self-transcendence. To know the difference affects the individual, the religious group, and the church. Therefore, one must figure out the source of the dark mood, the imp behind the affect. To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. Darkness's fruits also deserve attention. Sometimes what is most obvious is overlooked. For instance, do we leave congrega-tional meetings or gatherings feeling empty, down, or frustrated? Do we feel marginalized or disengaged? Or is our experience joy-ful and revitalizing? Do we feel closer to God and so awed by the Spirit that our prayer is renewed and our ministry energized? Do most of the members feel the same? Again, do we pause and reflect about and then discuss which spirit seems to be dominating the group? If we are on holy ground, we leave one another's com-pany enriched. Or is something lacking? Despite contact with To mistakenly endure an unholy dark as a dark night of the senses or spirit is abusive and destructive, not purgative. May-June 1994 349 Ferdon and Murphy ¯ Transition's Holy or Unholy Dark friends, and gratitude for companionship and laughter with them, is smnething of the sacred absent? It is essential to name that absence lest we bless what is not holy. Religious life as we have known it may be ending, but what about the beginning? If we have failed to negotiate our own indi-vidual transitions, how can we begin to face the group transition? Do we feel heavily burdened? What must we let go of? In-betweenness does not have to last forever. Prolonging the pain only adds to the interior paralysis or feeling of numbness that all-too-many women and men religious experience. Endings are not without sequels, but unless interior conversion takes place no beginnings occur, only *eactions to endings, whether denial, avoid-ance, defensiveness, escape, or repression. How do we begin again? Do we want to do so? We have to acknowledge our pain and voice it to God. We must feel its hold and then move beyond its control to where we can join in a gathering to celebrate survival and new life. We should not let our moaning and grumbling get misplaced and do harm. Transition is the time to ask hard questions, not only of ourselves but also of God. Have we voiced our pain in prayer? Is God with us? What is God communicating? Is God the focus of our gatherings? Are we more lost than we realized? Are we in relationship with God and also in dialogue? What is God saying to us? Is there something we must let go of?. Transition teaches us to get along with less. It removes distractions. Until we discern the darkness, it has a coercive and discour-aging hold. Like a small cancer it can grow undetected until it is too late to cure. Then surgery will not help. What "cancer" might underlie a perhaps subtle but still debilitating lethargy? Our great-est danger is to become numbly resigned to the someday inevitable death of religious life and then stabilize our fear, misplace our anger, distract our anxiety, and live in denial. Religious life is not meant to be endured; it exists for the sake of celebration now and eternally. Unless religious are free enough to name darkness, can-didly, low-grade despair and frenetic avoidance are bound to grow. People close their eyes and shut down to survive. Involvement, activity, ministry become the substitute for contemplation, not the result of contemplation nor food for it. What is really hap-pening is rarely talked about, and thus power is given to the secret. And those who dare to bring up the subject of darkness are quickly judged to be either critical of leadership or disloyal to member- 350 Review for Religious ship and then marginalized by other people's pattern of denial. When denial dictates, dialogue dies. The prince of darkness is empowered, and a divine focus is missed again. The issue is about neither leadership nor criticism; the issue is about neither membership nor loyalty. The issue is that the divine play of light is being overshadowed. In naming the darkness, we allow the light to play, the ligh~ that would illumine all we do, the light that would lighten our lives and allow us even in darkness to be con-fident because the gentle Presence of Mystery reveals that we are indeed on holy ground. Notes ~ We acknowledge our debt to William Barry and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York: Seabury, 1982), and to the people at the Center for Religious Developinent; they have had a major impact on our practice of spiritual direction. 2 For a succinct treatment of how darkness appears in directed retreats, see William J. Connolly sJ, "Experiences of Darkness in Directed Retreats," Review For Religious 33, no. 4 (July-August 1974): 609-615. Reprinted in Notes on the Spiritual Exercises, ed. David L. Fleming SJ, (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1981), pp. 108-114. 3 See Constance FitzGerald's "Impasse and Dark Night" in Living with Apocalypse, ed. Tilden Edwards (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 94ff. Sandra Schneiders IHM also develops this theme in "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation," a paper given in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1992 and presented at a faculty colloquium at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley in 1993. 4 For the viewpoint of another psychologist on some unhealthy dynam-ics in religious communities, see Charles Shelton, "Reflections on the Mental Health of Jesuits," in Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 23, no. 4 (September 1991), and a companion article by the same author, "Toward Healthy Jesuit Community," in Studies 24, no. 4 (September 1992). s It is worth while to review Gerald A. Arbuckle's thesis "that a major reason for the reluctance or hesitation of religious congregations, parishes, and dioceses to attempt renewal is their failure to mourn or ritually detach themselves from that which is lost or no longer apostolically relevant. Energy that should be directed toward creating the future is instead spent on efforts to restore or retain that which is lost or dying." See "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," in Human Development 12 (spring 1991): 22. 6 William Bridges, Transitions (Reading, Mass.: AddisonWesley, 1980), p. 101. 7 Ibid. May-June 1994 351 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Merging Provinces "May they be so perfected in unity that the world will recognize that it was you who sent me." --John 17:23 Tdre is a trend within the church today for both institutions apostolates to merge: congregations and provinces of congregations, schools and hospitals. Various pragmatic and inspi-rational reasons are given, such as using personnel and finances more effectively for mission. Yet the actual merging commonly fails to meet expectations because people do not appreciate that mergers demand far more than a rearrangement of administra-tions. The contemporary struggle to unite East and West Germany aptly illustrates the point. When institutions seek to combine, they interact as cultures, and the resulting change is not a bloodless abstraction, but a high order of human drama. This introductory article views, from a cultural anthropologi-cal perspective, the merging of congregational provinces--though the theory applies to any organization. Case studies illustrate the theory, and then I suggest some guidelines for use in practice. First we examine what management studies have learned about the mergers of business corporations. Though religious commu-nities are not businesses, they are nonetheless human organiza-tions or cultures. They can learn from the experience of other human organizations that amalgamate,t Gerald A. Arbuckle SM continues to write, lecture, and conduct work-shops on the refounding of religious life. His address is Refounding and Pastoral Development Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 21 I0; Australia. 352 Review for Religious Lessons from the Marketplace The literature on business amalgamations is filled with dreary warnings about the negative effects of mergers. Management con-sultant Tom Peters concludes that "most studies suggest that, in general, [business] mergers do not pan out.''2 Rather than increased profitability, mergers have come to be associated with lowered morale, job dissatisfaction, unpro-ductive behavior, sabotage, petty theft, absenteeism, and increased labor-turnover, strike, and accident rates.3 Management consultant Stuart Slatter advises that the merger of firms "rarely brings increased effi-ciencies, unless accompanied by sound post-merger management. In fact, inefficiencies may actually increase as . divisive splits develop within the new top-management team as each manager retains loyalties to his of change. former business.''4 James O'Toole speaks of the contemporary stress on business amal-gamations as "merger-mania." He says that "the desire of large industrial bodies to merge is insatiable" and that the purpose and strategies for such actions are rarely thought through.5 Charles Handy warns that organizations contemplating merger are "to some extent stuck with their past., their traditions. These things take years if not decades to change.''6 Some authors wonder if the drive for merg-ers comes from authoritarian, patriarchal values dominant in Western society. These values, they claim, blind organizations to feminine values of creativity, of openness to other ways of coop-eration than formal mergers.7 Overall, most commentators conclude that mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions of change. In addition to sensitive leadership there must be, authors claim, a cultural compatibility (or what is termed "culture fit") between organizations that seek to merge. If there is insufficient culture fit, then cultural collisions will destroy efforts to merge organizations.8 Anthropologists agree with these conclusions. But they com-plain that, when management writers (with the exception of peo-ple like Edgar Schein) use the term culture, they fail to grasp the complexity of its meaning. They think culture is what people vis- Mergers fail because leaders insufficiently consider the human or cultural dimensions May-3~ne 1994 353 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces ibly do,9 and they fail to consider what they feel about what they do. People may act in the same way, yet differ radically in their cultures, simply because they do not feel the same about what they do. Feelings (expressed in symbols and myths) are at the very heart of cultures, but are far more difficult to name and control than visible actions. A good many authors--for example, Gerard Egan--see culture as but one of many variables in organizations;1° Peter Senge does not refer to it at all.11 Culture is not one facet of life nor merely what people visi-bly do; rather, it is the complete set of feelings affecting, most often unconsciously, all of a specific behavior pattern of individ-uals and groups. Examples are an organization's interiorized system of authority, its modes of communication, its understanding of mis-sion and stratdgies?z Leaders ignore culture at their peril. People may change with relative ease what they visibly do, especially under external pressure; not so their feelings!13 Anthropology Applied Anyone concerned about mergers of institutional cultures must be awai'e of four fundamental insights of applied cultural anthropology. First, cultures have lives of their own, just as indi-vidual~ do. So we rightly say, for example, that cultures grieve or are depressed, are open or closed to creative ideas. Certainly, individuals influence the life of a culture, but the reverse is also true. Sdcond, any cultural change, even for the noblest of rea-sons, is stressful for the people involved. A culture provides peo-ple with a much needed sense of order or security; it is a defense against the anxiety that disorder or the fear of chaos evokes. When cultures interact this felt sense of security is threatened or under-mined; people feel uprooted, losE, disillusioned, angry, sad. Fears and prejudices about the culture with which they must now inter-act come to the surface. Third, people are likely to resist change for one of two rea-sons: the loss of the known and tried, or concern over the impli-cfitions of personal and group loss. Cultural interaction inevitably calls people to new ways of acting; the familiar must be left behind. Hence, any effort to merge cultures leads to varying degrees of overt or underground resistance. Reactions to cultural change in individuals can build up and then explode in ways that appear totally out of proportion to the provocation of the moment. 354 Review for Religious The resistance has merely been deferred and stockpiled; people finally reach a breaking point and express it dramatically. Fourth, the effort to merge cultures is a highly complex and risky pro-cess demanding the leadership of humanly and culturally sensitive and skilled change agents. Without such help people will so resist the change process that mergers falter or fail. The following axioms sum-marize the practical implica-tions of these four points for leaders of would-be mergers: 1. Appreciate the Complexity of Cultures I explain elsewhere in some depth the nature of culture.~4 For our purposes here, how-ever, culture is a pattern of shared values enshrined in a network of symbols, myths, and rituals and created or devel-oped by a particular group as it copes with life's challenges, instructing its members about what it considers the correct way to feel, think, and behave25 Rituals (that is, visible behavior) are the concrete expression of symbols and myths; symbols are experienced or felt meanings. A myth, a set of narrative symbols, is a story or tradition that claims to reveal to people, in an imaginative way, a fundamental truth about the world and themselves. This truth is considered author-itative by those who accept it. In short, myths inspiringly or feel-ingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. The most powerful myth in every culture is its creation myth, since it provides people with their primary source of identity as a distinct group.~6 Vv~hen the creation myth's existence is threat-ened-- for example, when major cOltural change is being planned or underway--people experience degrees of anxiety, anger, numb-ness, sadness. Various kinds of creation myths affect people in different times and ways. Three of the kinds can be termed the public, the operative, and the residual myths: Myths inspiringly or feelingly tell people who they are, what is good and bad, and how they are to organize themselves and maintain their feeling of unique identity in the world. May-ff-une 1994 355 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces ¯ The public myth is a set of stated ideals that people openly claim binds them together (like the values inherent in the charism of a congregation); in practice these ideals may have little if any cohesive force. ¯ The operative myth, however, is what actually at this point gives people their felt cohesive identity; the operative myth can and often does differ dramatically from the public myth. ¯ The residual myth normally has little or no daily impact on a group's life, but at times can become a powerful operative myth. For example, a former colonial nation will commonly have a resid-ual myth reminding the people of their former dependency on, or oppression by, a dominant European power. If a member of the former country inter'acts with someone from the latter nation, he or she may experience bitter memories of past colonial relation-ships. Then the painful residual myth becomes the operative myth, creating a climate of suspicion and antagonism. The case studies below illustrate the relevance of the above theoretical clarifications, because .proposed amalgamations of provinces inevitably demand changes in existing creation myths. 2. Encourage "Multicultural" Mergers Mergers are not synonymous with takeovers, that is, the total assimilation of other cultures by dominant cultures. True merg-ers recognize the need for dialogue between equals, so that the best of all cultures is preserved in the new emerging organiza-tional culture. 17 3. Arrange for Rituals of Grieving Change causes loss, and all loss evokes a wide range of human emotions: anger, sadness, guilt. These emotions must be ritually expressed and let go of; otherwise they remain repressed and obstruct change. Since individuals and cultures grieve over loss, these rituals must be personal- and culture-oriented.18 4. Seek Culturally Transformative Leadership Leaders must have skills for guiding people through the uncertainties, anxieties, and risks of cultural change.19 Without these rare people, cultural change of a positive kind is impossible. Case Studies: Merging Provinces Case Study 1: An Overefficient General Administration A general administration decided that three provinces should be amalgamated into one province. No problems were anticipated because 356 Review for Religious the administration believed that the reasons for the amalgamation were obvious to all and that the commitment to the congregational charism was greater than to provincial boundaries. The administration explained to the assembled provincials the major reason for the decision: a better use of human and financial resources for mission. On returning to their respective provinces, however, the provincials, who had been convinced by the arguments given them, were surprised to receive immediate neg-ative reactions from their provinces. The provincial administrations then procrastinated for so long that the general administration finally withdrew its decision, blaming the provincials for their lack of courageous leadership. Comment: The general adminstration's decision may have been theoretically correct, but the process of decision making took no account of the provinces as cultures. The decision to merge, taken without adequate consultation, evoked group and individual anx-iety and resistance because people felt that the operative myths of their provinces, giving them felt predictability, were jeopardized. The general administration wrongly assumed that the congrega-tional charism was simultaneously the public and operative myth. On the contrary, the majority of the religious felt closer bonds to their respective provinces than to the congregational charism. Case Study 2: From Euphoria to Provincial "Nationalisms" Three provincial administrations decided to explore the possibility of merging their provinces. An assembly, attended by as many members of all three provinces as possible, enthusiastically endorsed the idea in a vision statement that highlighted the common charism as the unifying force. Thereupon the provincial administrations quickly planned the formal merger. But to their surprise they later received so little cooper-ation from members of the provinces that they finally dropped the entire idea. Comment: An investigation showed that while the religious were together the public myth (that is the congregational charism-based myth) became the operative myth; they enjoyed being together socially as members of one congregation. However, they avoided the pain of looking closely at what they would have to let go of once the merger occurred; they felt the common con-gregational vision would carry them through. On return to their home provinces, the religious recognized what the merger would cost them, and the support for amalgamation rapidly declined; their respective provincial operative myths were revitalized. Quotations from the founder originally assented to in support of May-June 1994 357 Arbuckle * Merging Provinces the merger were now contradicted by other quotations from the same source. Case Study 3: Fearsof Colonialism Revived An administration of a province in the first world explored the pos-sibility of merging with a province in a third-world nation. It argued that the amalgamation would be beneficial to both provinces. The rich province could supply much-needed money to the third-world province; the latter, having a surplus of vocations, could "export" religious to the former. The proposal was immediately and angrily resisted by the poorer province--to the surprise and annoyance of its richer counterpart. Comment: This case study illustrates that a province's iden-tity or mythology can be influenced powerfully by forces beyond a congregation's internal history. The third-world nation had for over a century been a colony of the first-world country. Members of the third-world province sensed an arrogance in the adminis-trators of the rich province reminding them of the oppressive-ness of the colonial era. They did not want their newfound sense of national self-worth undermined by their receiving financial handouts from the richer province. They also feared that they would be administratively dominated after the merger by people from their former colonial power. In this incident the residual myth of the third-world nation became the operative myth of the province; the latter was prepared to remain extremely poor, but in control of its own destiny. Case Study 4: Fears of "Congregational Colonialism" Revived A superior general encouraged two provincial administrations to investigate the advisability of merging their provinces. The investiga-tion showed that for missionary efficiency the merger made perfect sense. However, the reactions to the proposal were so negative in one province, which had been founded several decades earlier by the other, that the plan was dropped. Comment: This case study is similar to the previous one in that the founding province is equivalently remembered as an arro-gant, congregational colonial power. That memory is the residual myth. The thought of a merger makes the residual myth the oper-ative force for identity and effectively prevents any further seri-ous discussion about merging the provinces. Case Study 5: Ethnic Differences Obstructing Amalgamation A general administration encouraged three provinces in a first-world nation to amalgamate, claiming that three separate administra-tions were a luxury the congregation could no longer afford. However, 358 Review for Religious the provincial administration disagreed, claiming that one adminis-tration could never adequately serve the large geographical area involved. Nonetheless, the merger did administratively take place, but the new administration was confronted with previously unforeseen personnel problems. For example, religious resisted requests to move to apostolates across the former provincial boundaries. Comment: The merger was failing, not for geographical rea-sons, but because the provinces were historically formed along ethnic-migrant lines: Polish, Italian, Irish. The cultural preju-dices of last century surfaced once the provinces were adminis-tratively united; that is, the residual myths became the operative myths for a significant number of religious descendants of the original migrants. If people had been involved in the develop-ment and follow-up of the merging, this critical issue would have emerged and been positively worked through. Case Study 6: Merger Plans Successful Three provincial administrations agreed with an outside consul-tant that from a mission perspective it. was essential for their provinces to amalgamate. They consulted all re.embers of their provinces, and most favored the merger. Once the merger decision was finally taken, the provincial administrations sought professional advice on how to pro-ceed. The merger was done in stages over a seven-year period, accord-ing to frequently evaluated strategies. As part of the merging process, all apostolates were assessed for their pastoral relevance and effectiveness in light of clearly stated criteria. Because all members were invited to be part of the merging and evaluating processes, negative reactions were minimal and the ownership of the changes was at a high level. Comment: In this case study the following actions guaranteed success: culturally s6nsitive leadership, aware that in-depth culture change is a slow process; professional assistance in clarifying the vision of the merger and in developing appropriate strategies; the maximum involvement of members of the provinces in all stages of the merging. Advice to Congregational Leaders The following advice is offered to congregational leaders in view of the above theory and the analysis of the case studies: 1. Clarify the Vision and the Strategies for Mergers. The primary aim of any merger of provinces must be to make the religious congregation better able to serve the needs of the May-.~une 1994 359 Arbuckle ¯ MergingProvinces kingdom of God. Thus, congregational leaders must ask ques-tions such as the following: Is the merger apostolically justified, or is it just a way to maintain existing apostolates without evalu-ating them for their apostolic relevance and effectiveness? Are there better ways, than through amalgamation, to achieve the desired effects of a merger? 2. Involve Members throughout the Process. Organizational amalgamations demand cultural change. Any cultural change, to be effective, is slow and risky, requiring as wide an involvement of members as is possible before, during, and after the formal merger. In order to own the new identity people must feel they are realistically contributing to its development. Congregational leaders, therefore, must ask themselves questions like: What structures will best encourage the maximum involve-ment of members? Are the most-skilled cultural-change agents being used to facilitate the process? 3. Foster Group and Personal Conversion-Grieving. Liminality is the cultural betwixt-and-between position which develops when a previous founding myth and its structural or political expressions have terminated, but a new creation myth has yet to be clarified and owned. It is a painfully dangerous stage of grieving because people feeling intense loss are sometimes tempted to retreat back to the old, comfortably secure ways of doing things. The journeying of the Israelites in the desert, with all its temptations to retreat to Egypt and to blame Moses for their miseries, is an archetypal experience of liminality. Moses, confronted by the Israelites' bickering, pettiness, and anger, rec-ognized that, for the people's grieving to be positive, they must have the space to name their anger and sadness in order to let these feelings go in faith and hope. Only then would the Israelites, freed from their attachments to the past, be open to receive the new creation stoW that Yahweh had for them.2° When provinces decide to merge, religious are invited to enter into the liminality of the desert journey. The old provincial creation mythologies must be let go of to allow the creation myth of a new province to emerge and be confidently owned. Congregational leaders, like Moses, must do two things: (1) encourage the religious to share the stories of their provinces with one another, together with their feelings of grief (anger, numbness) over the loss of the predictability that membership in their respective provinces had given them, and (2) call the religious 360 Review for Religious to help shape in hope the vision or founding myth of the new province. It is a call to an ongoing process of personal and cor-porate conversion. Conversion cannot be hurried, but without it .the merging of provinces will fail. 4. Utilize Cultural Change Agents and Consultants. Change agents assume the responsibility for managing the merging process. They are transformational leaders who under-stand objectively the tensions involved in the process, have acquired personal skills to cope constructively with personal and cultural change in their own lives, and are able to foster with empathy a positive approach in others to changes. In the merging of provinces, such people are needed at all levels: as congregational lead-ers, ritual-grief directors, creators of new and relevant provincial structures for mission, and so forth. Because culture change is so complex, it is advisable for con-gregational leaders to seek the advice of consultants at key points in the merging process. The con-sultant's task is to collaborate with those entrusted with the merger in developing "an understanding of the way things are, thinking about the way they might be, and then working with [them] to consider what, how, and whether to change.''2~ The consultant cannot be effective unless he or she has well-developed cross-cul-tural skills.22 The human person is a striver who yearns for progress and is theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. The human person is achievement oriented, a striver who yearns for progress and is therefore theoretically open to change. But the human person also has basic needs for order, stability, and predictability. Applied cultural anthropology highlights the fact that, though people may in theory accept change, in prac-tice they commonly opt for the familiar and secure status quo. May-~:une 1994 361 Arbuckle ¯ Merging Provinces This has important consequences for congregations when provinces are encouraged to merge. In the face of declining numbers and the aging of religious, we must not see the mergers of provinces as the automatic panacea to our problems. We need to be: (a) as certain as possible that the merger will improve the congregation's apostolic effective-ness in accordance with its founding vision; (b) aware that merg-ers require, besides mere managerial action at the top, ongoing personal and cultural conversion, or else, like the Israelites of old, religiou~ will resist the changes and hanker after the security of former, apostolically irrelevant provincial structures; and (c) aware that in mergers one province does not take over other provinces, but all are equal partners in establishing a new province to serve the Lord better. Ultimately, without skilled leadership there can be no positive merging of provinces. Edgar Schein warns: "What the leader most needs is insight into the ways in which culture can aid or hinder the fulfillment of the organization's mission and the intervention skills to make desired changes happen . Leadership and ~ulture management are so central to understanding organizations and making them effective that we cannot afford to be complacent about either of them.''z3 Provinces, like all cultures, are unwise to attempt the process of amalgamation, if they lack the necessary leadership. Notes ~ See C. Handy, Understanding Voluntary Organizations (London: Penguin, 1988), pp. 2-23. 2 Thriving on Chaos (New York: Mfred A. Knopf, 1987), p. 7. See also the evaluation of European mergers in The Economist (London), 20 November 1993, pp. 16f. 3 See G. Meeks, Disappointing Marriage: A Study of the Gains from Mergers (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977); S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Psychological Impact of Merger and Acquisition on the Individual," Human Relations 46, no. 3 (1993): 327-329. 4 Corporate Recovery (London: Penguin, 1984), p. 245. s Vanguard Management (New York: Berkley, 1987), pp. 258, 250. 6 Handy, Understanding, p. 95. 7 See G. Morgan, Images of Organization (London: Sage, 1986), pp. 210-212. 362 Review for Religious s See S. Cartwright and C.L. Cooper, "The Role of Culture Compatibility in Successful Organizational Marriage," Academy of Management Executive 7, no. 2 (1993): 57-70. 9 For example, see T. Deal and A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life (Reading, Massachusetts: Addison- Wesley, 1982), p. 4. 10 See his Change Agent Skills in Helping and Human Service Setting (Monterey: Brooks/Cole, 1985), pp. 277-287. 11 See his Fifth Dimension: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1990). 12 See E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture and Leadership (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), p. 314. ,3 See S.A. Sackman, Cultural Knowledge in Organizations: Exploring the Collective Mind (London: Sage, 1991), pp. 16-23; J. Hunt, "How People Get Overlooked in Takeovers," Personnel Management (July 1987): 24- 26, and "Managing the Successful Acquisition: A People Question," London Business School Journal (summer 1988): 215. ,4 See G. Arbuclde, Earthing the Gospek An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26-78, 167-186. ,s I have modified the definition by E.H. Schein in his Organizational Culture, p. 9. ,6 See G. Arbuckle, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," Review for Religious 46, no. 1 (January-February 1987): 14-43. 17 See A.E Buono and J. Bowditch, The Human Side of Mergers and Acquisitions, (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1989), pp. 134-163. ,8 See P. Marris, Loss and Change (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), passim; G. Arbuckle, Change, Grief and Renewal in the Church: A Spirituality for a New Era (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1991), pp. 151-156, and "Organizations Must Ritually Grieve," Human Development 12, no. 1 (1991): 22-27; D.M. Noer, "Leadership in an Age of Layoffs," Issues and Observations 13, no. 3 (1993): 1-5. 19 For a fuller explanation of the leadership needed, see G. Arbuckle, Refounding the Church: Dissent for Leadership, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), pp. 98-127. 20 See G. Arbuckle, Change, pp. 151-156. 21 E. Miller, quoted by R. McLennan in Journal of Enterprise Management, no. 3 (1981), p. 251. 22 See Arbuckle, Refounding, pp. 213f, 217. 23 E.H. Schein, Organizational Culture, pp. 320, 327. May-d~une 1994 363 JUDITH ANN EBY One Voice from the Middle Place In the matter of human existence the grave and sensible advice of the King of Hearts--"Begin at the beginning" -- cannot be heeded. We have no choice but to begin where we are; and where we are is the middle. It is not given to us to stand on the far side of human time and then, with all delib-eration and grace, to enter . Our first awareness is that we are swimming. We wake in the water. Our beginnings are not wholly our own. Our endings will most likely be beyond our control. We are middle people.~ MmY reflection upon my own journey in religious life draws e to this quotation from John Shea. My entrance into religious life in 1976 was certainly a beginning. I was twenty-one, full of energy and enthusiasm as i entered this new world. Several years later, though, one event was to etch into the core of my being the awareness that I had really entered into a "middle place," a transitional moment in the life of religious communities. After final vows I attended a large assembly of my regional community where the question was asked, "Shall we plan for our future?" A resounding yes echoed immediately, logically, and enthusiastically in my being. Simultaneously an unusually intense session of debate, frustration, and dialogue began in the larger group. After what seemed to be an eternity, the group came to unanimous agreement to plan for the future and spontaneously sang the song of our foundress. Clearly, something significant Judith Ann Eby RSM is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis University. Her address is 4133 Hartford St.; St. Louis, Missouri 63116. 364 Review for Religious had taken place. I also understood for the first time that there was a dimension of the community's corporate journey of which I had no understanding. No matter how much I could intellectu-ally grasp their journey, I would never experientially be able to understand part of their lives. Although not the first of such events, it was certainly the clearest one to signal that, at some moment in time, the commu-nity had stepped into an obviously challenging world and world-view different from a former one. I now shared their new world with them. However, there seemed an almost invisible boundary which prevented me from understanding this former world that still played itself out in their collective consciousness. This invis-ible boundary seemed to be not only the actual experience of Vatican Council II, but the experience of pre-Vatican II religious life. Boundaries which mark the end of one period and the begin-ning of a new one in the life of any community or individual can be arbitrary and theoretical. While it is true that many such boundaries could be named, one moment or event often stands out as a clear crossing over from one world into another. For those within religious life at the time of the council and for those who entered near that time, Vatican II was a watershed experience. For better or for worse, life was never again the same. Joan Chittister comments on this reality: For most communities, updating has been the project and process of religious life for 25 years. Clothing has been con-temporized; schedules have been adjusted to compensate for the invention of the light bulb; internal structures have been brought into sync with the best in organizational plan-ning; individual development has been tested by the most recent and most credible of psychological theorems; theol-ogy programs have progressed far beyond the thinking of the medievalists or the Scholastics; community customs books have been amended to meet the nature of contem-porary life. Every dimension of religious life has been scru-tinized and updated. Most of religious life is definitely not in a time warp any more, at least not if relevance is mea-sured by life styles and learnings.2 The renewal after Vatican II was a crystallizing experience which united a number of different age groups around a new interpretation of religious life.3 This focal experience, it must be emphasized, embraces the formative influence and memory of May-~'une 1994 365 Eby ¯ One l~oice from tbe Middle Place pre-Vatican II religious life as interpreted in light of the council. For more than twenty-five years, changes from the council shook the church and religious communities to their roots. Ways of thinking, ways of being, and ways of acting, an entire collective consciousness of a group, were evaluated and reshaped. It is a subdued statement, indeed, to say that such a vast alteration from one world into another has profoundly affected and continues to affect those who were part of religious life at or near the time of the council. A good number of members still form opinions, beliefs, and attitudes in response to the crystallizing experience of Vatican II. Often this leaves them less likely to understand and sympathize with the ideas and beliefs of those who came well after the council and for whom Vatican II is not a watershed expe-rience. This is not necessarily due to a lack of goodwill, yet there is a tendency for one group to judge the worldview of later age groups as misguided or immature. All worldviews are necessarily limited and contain blind spots not easily recognized by those who hold those views. One question slowly emerges from pondering such a vast alteration and its effects on those in religious life: What of those who entered religious communities years after Vatican II? What has been the experience of such members? Much has been writ-ten about the experience of those who entered religious life before and during the time of the council. Other than some articles on formation, little has been written about the experience and from the perspective of those members who remember Vatican II vaguely or not at all. Some members know only the transitional time of religious communities. My hope is to raise a single voice from this middle place so that it may be heard and contemplated and allow the reader, for just a moment, to stand in the shoes of one who has known only the period of transition and to glimpse religious life from a van-tage point relatively rare within communities. The limitation of this essay is that it is a single voice only. Its strength is that it describes a particularized experience that can be known and touched on a human level. There are several assumptions upon which this essay is based. The first is that arbitrary categories of age and experience are not meant to be divisive or to cultivate a we-they attitude. The realization is deep: we are one, many though we are. The focus on newer or younger members and their perspective is not to deny 366 R~view for Religious or diminish the legitimate experience of others. Categories do not have to be mutually exclusive. What is always of uppermost importance is the vitality of the whole group, not of any age group or of any individual. The main issue is not whether we are grow-ing older, fewer, and poorer as a total community, but whether we are growing in wisdom and clar-ity, conversion and gratitude. The second assumption is that congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. Newer or younger members, while known individually and usually well-integrated into the larger community, are corpo-rately invisible and often unheard. They do not necessar-ily possess the same opinions, beliefs, or worldviews because great diversity often exists in terms of age and experience. Generalizations about any age group or category are simplistic at their best and crude at their worst. Many who have known Vatican II have moved to new and cre-ative developments very much in line with the renewal of the council while the thinking, beliefs, and actions of many newer or younger members is stale, noncreative, and full of fear. What is suggested here is that the experience and renewal of religious life resulting fro.m Vatican II continues to exert a formative influence upon a significant number of members while the richness and diversity of an exceptionally small population is being lost. Yet in this group are those who will be the leaders well into the 21st century. Middle places imply an ending and a beginning as well as a continuity with what went before. The human experience of end-ings and beginnings will often be bittersweet and both dark and light. Such has been my journey within my own community. It is these experiences of darkness and light, characteristic of tran-sitional moments, as well as the continuity that I want to articu-late. Congregations as a whole are often unaware or forgetful of the reality that a minority voice is being lost: the voice of the newer or younger members. May-.t~une 1994 367 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place The church and world I knew while growing up was one of constant change. Everything was in flux: the saints, liturgy, sacra-ments, music, religion class, celebrations of church feasts, parish customs, and more. Change was experienced as normal, expected, and part of what it meant to be church. The religious life I entered was in a time of transition and experimentation. It was a world defined more often by the past than by any communal vision of the future. By the time I entered, the initial hope and enthusiasm surrounding renewal in the con-gregation was beginning to give way to fear, anger, agonizing searching, split factions of liberal and conservative groups, and a cancerous doubt. Mary Jo Le.ddy ~peaks of this middle place: At this point in the history of religious life, we are in an in-between moment, a "dark night," when the former mod-els of religious life are disintegrating and a future model has yet to become clear . As the memory and vitality of this conservative model begin to fade, some of the energy and legitimation of the liberal model begin to wane. Those who have a vivid memory of the traditional model of church and religious life seem more clear about the value and sig-nificance of the liberal model of religious life. But does the liberal model make sense in itself, that is, without refer-ence to the more traditi'onal model? There are those who, like myself, never knew the traditional model or never knew it for very long. We know the liberal model was launched from the base of traditional religious life, but we are begin-ning to wonder whether there is enough fuel in the liberal model itself to take it very far. To use another metaphor, we are beginning to feel that driving a liberal model of reli-gious !ife is like driving into the future through a rear-view mirror.4 My inner experience of enthusiasm and belief in religious life often came up against contradictory elements in the community. A few of the major examples focused on the expressions of doubt, grief, and anger in the community. Doubt can be a creative ele-ment. Indeed, it is often a necessary companion on any mature journey of faith. However, the doubt I encountered was often a cancerous doubt that could eat into the core of one's being. It was often disheartening to come up against, time and time again, such cancerous doubt within many members. Grief, usually unresolved grief, was also a major issue for many in the community. It was not unusual for me to become an object of unresolved grief and anger over some former aspect of 368 Review for Religious religious life that had not been sufficiently mourned by the other. As a newer member I stood as a symbol of all that had passed away, of all that was new and unsettling. Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statements. Such statements are expressed as a sigh of grief, of loss, of anxious uncertainty toward the future on the part of countless members. They are uttered in the midst of the hus-tle and bustle of life, at com-munity meetings, at times of election and moments of deci-sion, moments of reflection. The private and public acknowledgment of personal experience can be necessary for overall health. Yet it must be remembered that, for those who come at times of transition and do not share the same under-standing or knowledge of a community's history, verbal expressions can take on a particular significance. Language can shape our reality, tell us who we are and who we want to be, can uplift or demolish. A word, once it is spoken, can take on a life of its own; it can have the power to bring about that of which it speaks. At the middle places, when doubt reaches crisis proportions, language is of tremendous significance. Language, in this instance, reflected both lack of vision and lack of credible vision among the members. For older members can often communicate mixed signals to enthusiastic newer or younger members and cause a frequent cri-sis of meaning for them. It is odd but not unusual that entry into any group will always involve the unconscious or conscious assimilation of the larger group's attitudes about some things. Declining numbers was one crisis with which I had to deal. There is a basic difference between the exodus I experienced and the exodus others experienced in the 1960s. When I look ahead of me, I see lots of numbers. When I look around me, I see a handful, and we are the younger mem-bers. Around the time of final vows, I had to come to terms with Grief, doubt, and anger intermingled in various degrees to produce within some people what I experienced as death-dealing statementsl May-j~une 1994 369 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place this unconscious assimilation of the crisis of numbers. Even today, though, at moments of weakness, fatigue, and real honesty, fear can reach into the core of my being, and I begin to wonder if I will be the last one through the door. Other times, often at commu-nity gatherings, I look around the room and wonder, figuratively speaking, what it will feel like (other things being equal, which they will not be) to bury all those older than I. Numbers can still overwhelm me. Middle places, by their very nature as endings and begin-nings, possess not only elements of darkness, but elements of light as well. As a newer or younger member, I received the best of all that the community had to offer--which was possible because of all that had gone before me. Many of the community's resources of time, finances, personnel, and talents were shared with me. The best of the community's continually growing self-awareness in terms of charism, history, and spirituality encircled me. It would merely be redundant to enumerate these many experiences, work-shops, and activities, since the majority of members are already familiar with them and have themselves participated in many of them. Perhaps I had greater freedom in personal choices and deci-sions than the majority of members had upon their entrance and for a good por.tion of their religious lives. I had greater flexibil-ity in forming relationships with people both outside community and inside. I experienced great exposure to different areas, groups, cultures, and ministries in my regional community. Barbara Fiand SNDdeN, in her book Living the Vision (New York: Crossroad, 1990), discusses the dark side of this high mobility and the exces-sive amount of stress related to it. As one who lived this experi-ence and whose number of moves around my regional community exceeds the example Barbara Fiand gives on page 148, I can well attest to what she says. She does not connect to this mobility the reality that newer or younger members would be more easily exposed to the cancerous doubt of which I spoke earlier. Today I and others who have stayed in religious life perceive our com-munity as larger than the local area in which we live. We are usu-ally well-integrated into the larger community in terms of knowledge, experience, and relationships. Throughout my years in religious life, it has not been uncom-mon for other members to say to me that they do not understand why "we" stay. I suspect these are comments of frustration, despair, 370 Rewiew for Religious lack of hope, or just plain bewilderment. They are comments indicative of middle places where lack of clarity, direction, and insight plague us all. Middle places, besides containing elements of darkness and light, are also by their very nature places of continuity. The con-tinuity is in the interiority. At the time I entered my community, differences were everywhere in terms of clothes, experiences, and theologies of the vows and reli-gious life, in spite of the renewal of Vatican II. The time of forma-tion for me involved excessive mobility and excessive exposure to all of this. After a long process of ¯ sorting through the externals, I found connection and identifica-tion through the interior. This exposure brought me to the real-ization that times were different, details were different, but the essence of the story was the same. Grace had invited me into the deeper myth of religious life. I can speak for no one but myself when I say that the deepest connection I was able to encounter and perceive in others was the experience of religious life as the deepening of one's greatest life and freedom in a journey with the Divine. I would suspect that all newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. I have found numerous women whose journey through pre- and post-Vatican II times has demanded much of them. The journey of these women reveals a depth of discipleship and commitment that mine could never rival. These women are part of my congregation and of other congre-gations; some have long been part of my journey and some are recently a part. Some were part of my journey for a time, a sig-nificant time. Some are with me in a new way beyond the bound-aries of space and time. Growth and transformation are profoundly connected to courageous, faith-filled women who show that "a journey with God is the only real source of satisfaction there is, All newer or younger members who have been in religious life for several years can appreciate, if not marvel at, the journey of those who have been here before us. May-June 1994 371 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place and a life of freedom, no matter how demanding, the only life worth living." s My view is necessarily limited. I merely offer a glimpse of a few of the experiences which could be characteristic of one who has known only this middle place in religious life. And this mid-dle place, too, is necessarily limited. Sandra Schneiders, in her critique of Mary Jo Leddy's book Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model, gives a good description of the general experi-ence of members who were a part of religious life before Vatican II and those who entered just as the council closed:6 Leddy vividly describes the symbolic malaise, lack of cor-porate vision, tenuous sense of belonging, identity confu-sion, and ministerial disarray that is obviously the experience of some religious, notably those in Leddy's own genera-tional cohort. These religious, now in their forties, entered religious life just as Vatican II closed. Religious congrega-tions, with the permission of the council, began a period of wide-ranging experimentation which left formation pro-grams suspended in mid-air between the collectivist identity that was being repudiated and a new identity that had not yet emerged. The corporate resources of religious life enjoyed by their older sisters were not transmitted to these new members, nor did they have the experiential realiza-tion of the dysfunctionality of much of the older system of religious life which fueled the renewal zeal of professed members. Thus, they could not rely on the deep roots of shared history, symbolic cohesion, and corporate identity as everything began to change simultaneously. Nor could they invest with passion in reforming a life they had never lived. Schneiders goes on to state that part of the significance of Leddy's book lies in the dialogue initiated "between those who lived religious life before the council and those whose experience of this life is almost totally postconciliar." This dialogue is impor-tant since a new generation has emerged today which interprets religious life very differently from those whose background embraces the lived experience of Tridentine Catholicism. My hope is that such a dialogue may be initiated. Newer or younger members are often isolated geographically from one another and lack opportunities to connect with one another. They can easily have a different perception and interpretation of reli-gious life because of differences in culture, generation, and a host of other experiences. Such connection could allow shared dis- 372 Review for Religious cussion of situations and concerns that are unique to newer or younger members. Energy could be channeled into discussion of a vision for the future. Congregations need to become aware of the importance of encouraging and providing financial assistance for structures that facilitate connection, reflection, and analysis among the very members who will carry into the 21st century the depth and dynamic of religious life. There is a tremendous significance in encourag-ing and supporting opportunities of this nature for newer or younger members whose dialogue among themselves can then lead to greater creativity when in dialogue with the larger congregation. This type of connection is not, in and of itself, exclusive. It does, how-ever, allow analysis and reflection which can never go on in larger com-munity gatherings simply because newer or younger members tend to be overwhelmed by the concerns and issues and by the sheer numbers of other members. Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. It is a simple fact that newer or younger members often constitutes a minute percentage of any congregation. The newer or younger members' analysis and reflection pre-cede the synthesis with the larger group that they hope ultimately to accomplish. To arrive at a communal vision that will animate and give energy for the future is a primary effort of many religious congregations at this time. Such a communal vision will come with a mixture of risk, wisdom, courage, insight, and pain. Many communities like my own have embraced a new creation, a new moment in their history. Most assuredly, we will be held account-able for choices made, choices not made, choices which will affect not just religious life but the church itself in years to come. Even so, we are invited, individually and corporately, to the awareness that "our own carefully laid plans and world orders should never be regarded as more reliable than the unsystematic reality of God's presence and grace."7 Congregations as a whole rarely can articulate the dreams, hopes, stories, and experiences relative to newer or younger members. May-June 1994 373 Eby ¯ One Voice from the Middle Place Notes ~John Shea, Stories of God (Chicago: Thomas More Press, 1978), p. 11. 2 Joan Chittister OSB, "Religious Life and the Need for Salt," Religious Life Review 30 (November/December 1991): 284. 3 See Patricia \¥ittberg SC "The Problem of Generations in Religious Life," Review for Religious 47, no. 6 (November-December 1988): 906, 907,908. 4 Mary Jo Leddy, "Beyond the Liberal Model," Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): 47. s John A. Sanford, The Man Who 12Vrestled with God (New York: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 100. 6 Sandra Schneiders, review of Mary Jo Leddy's Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model in Spirituality Today 42 (winter 1990): 368, 369. 7 Letter of Administrative Team of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union on 19 May 1991 to membership. Paradox Blosso~n-t~othered branches Of whitethorn trees Showing no wood And so full of the hum Of honey-heavy bees Seem to say to me That I should not Register such emptiness In the presence of such plenty Leaning fragrantly down to me In the final days of May. And I say: There is no should! I am a tree Made wood by my winter; Seasons that oppose Are two opposing goods Where envy may not enter To destroy the gift Of paradox. Bernadette McCarrick RSM 374 Review for Religious CATHERINE M. HARMER Religious, the Laity, and the Future of Catholic Institutions Many Catholics have grown up with the assumption that Catholic institutions, especially schools and hospi-tals, are a normal and permanent part of the landscape. Whether or not their children attend either parish or pri-vate Catholic schools, whether or not ~hey ever use the local Catholic hospital, it takes only the hint that these will be closed to cause a great stir. A second common assumption is that the religious congregations who founded and maintained these institutions will continue to do so in the future. Yet these institutions are more at risk now than ever before. Most of the Catholic institutions in this country had their origin in the last century. The parochial school sys-tem developed out of the concern of 19th-century bishops to maintain the faith for the immigrant populations from Catholic European countries. What has become the largest private health system in the country started very simply with religious sisters caring for the sick .and the poor in their homes. The hospitals built and run by their con-gregations were a response to a need to provide profes-sional healthcare in a Catholic setting. For the most part the organizers, builders, and managers of Catholic insti- Catherine M. Harmer MMS has worked as a psychologist in consultation with religious congregations and health systems in Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the United States. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. life in service May-June 1994 375 Harmer ¯ Religious, the Laity, and the Future tutions for educationl health, and social services were religious sisters, brothers, and priests. Even in the parochial school sys-tems, the bishops depended on the ~isters and brothers to provide the teachers and administrators, and to do so at little cost to parish or diocese. This work of founding and developing the major Catholic institutions, private, parochial, and diocesan, was an immense gift of religious to the church in the United States. Initially they served the immigrant Catholic population. As the years went on, the Catholic contribution was recognized beyond the boundaries of the church, especially in the field of healthcare. Given the social and political status of lay Catholics in the 19th and early 20th centuries, it is doubtful if they could have provided either the impetus or the skill to build these institutions, though their finan-cial contributions were the base for all of them. There is no ques-tion that establishing the institutions was a good thing for religious to do. The question today is whether they can or should continue t.o put as much into them now and in the future as they formerly did. Over the last twenty-five years, there has been a steady decline in the numbers of sisters and brothers, and a steady rise in their median age. During the same period, out of necessity rather than choice, the number of lay people in Catholic institutions has also risen. The cost of maintaining the institutions has increased, par-tially because of salary and benefit increases for the lay staff. In healthcare the potential decline of Catholic-sponsored hospitals was delayed, first by the Hill-Burton funds made available for building and then by the increased availability of third-party insur-ance, Medicare, and Medicaid. The decline of Catholic schools started earlier because there was little financial aid for them except occasional foundation grants. Efforts to acquire tuition credits or direct state support for Catholic schools continue to fail. In many dioceses the future of Catholic schools, even the parochial ones, depends on the ability of the parishes to maintain them independently of the diocese. Thus, only in the wealthier parishes can Catholic schools con-tinue to exist. Even these will last only if the priests and parish-ioners are willing to see fairly large proportions of their income go to the school and if parents are willing to pay increasingly higher tuition. There is the clear possibility that the Catholic school system will gradually disappear through attrition, with 376 Review for Religious only a few schools remaining for those who can afford private education. Creative efforts have been made by congregations. They have involved greater numbers of lay people in their institutions, main-taining sponsorship of the institutions and control over their mis-sion so as not to lose the congregation's charism and values. Particularly in healthcare there have been mergers of different types, from full takeover of one system by another to the collabo-ration of two or more systems forming a new system. Still, while the presence of religious in the institutions continues to decline, the number of lay women and men at high levels of management and in board positions grows. Lay members of the institutions find themselves attracted

OCTOBER, J899 ooTheoo Gettysburg CONTENTS. The Character of Macbeth 1S3 Success in Business 160 A Mirror's Reflections 161 Pen Sketches from Nature 163 Editor's Desk, 168 College Y. M. C. A 169 Two Mischievous Fallacies in Education 172 Why we should be True and Honest 17S The Relation of Commerce to Missions 176 The United States as a Coloniz-ing Nation 179 Advantage of Studying the Classics 182 Athletics 186 G'SURG C. LIB. DUPLICATE FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to e Jo I. Wi M Hovf CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. J. H. Myers Fashionable Tailor, Clothier and Gents' Furnisher. The best place in town to have your Cloth-ing- made to order. All workmanship and Trimmings guaranteed. No charge for re-pairs and pressing for one year. Dyeing and Repairing a specialty. Ready-made Clothing the largest stock in town. Up-to-date styles. Bicycle Suits and Breeches Headquarters. 11 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. EDGAR 5. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. translations Literal—Interlinear—135 Volume* Dictionaries German, French, Italian, Spanish Latin, Greek tutorial Series JOO vnls. specially designed for coaching i^i exams, in all college studies Binds & noble Sehoolbooks of all Publishers 4 Cooper Institute, NewYork City 1 R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. JOHN M. MINNIGH, Confectionery, lee, • andIee Create Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postojjice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Vol. VIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCTOBER, 1899. No. S Alumni Editor. REV. F. D. GARLAND. Editor-in-Chief. J. FRANK HEILMAN, '00. Assistant Editors. LDTHEK A. WEIGLE, '00. S. A. VAN ORMER, '01. Business Manager, Assistant Business Manager. JOHN K. HAMACHER, '00. CLARENCE MOORE, '02. Advisory Board. PROK. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Fifteen Cents. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE CHARACTER OF MACBETH. [FIRST GIES PRIZE ESSAY.] SHAKESPEARE was not only the greatest po.et and drama-tist that the world has known, but also a psychologist in every phase of human thought and action. Character has been nowhere more perfectly depicted than in many of his plays, and his art is most clearly seen in the painting of a man's soul through his words. This is especially exemplified in many of his tragedies. There is a wealth of psychological study in the char-acters of Hamlet, the brilliant student and noble prince whose life is wrecked by revenge; of Othello, the high-minded warrior whose soul is racked by jealousy; of Macbeth, the brave general who attained a throne, "In blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er." 154 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Hitherto Macbeth has been thought of as a man of weak reso-lution who was led astray by the dominant will of a wicked wife. This opinion has been mainly due to the fact that for years the only powerful rendering of the part of Lady Macbeth was that of Mrs. Siddons, whose strong personality easily lent itself to such an interpretation, while the only objections were raised now and then in a scholarly treatise which never reached the public. But several years ago Sir Henry Irving and Miss Ellen Terry pre-sented the play before American audiences in an entirely new in-terpretation, which at first surprised the theatre-going world, but eventually won its approbation. Under their treatment, Macbeth became, next to Iago, the worst of Shakespeare's villains, a man who brought about not only his own but his wife's moral down-fall. An impartial investigation of the text of the play will clearly show which of these views is correct. It may be well to begin, as the play does, with the objective element in Macbeth's soul, for it will show more distinctly the characteristics of the subjective. Macbeth is at first seen as the brave general. "Bellona's bridegroom lapp'd in proof," who successfully fought his country's enemies, winning glory for himself and his king. This quality of physical courage is in truth one which is part of Macbeth's real character. His por-trait does not lack in valor, from the first, when "brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name) Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion, carv'd out his passage, Till he fac'd the slave ; Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, And fix'd his head upon our battlements," till the last, when, betrayed by every portent which the witches had given him, he sees the end to be inevitable, yet plunges into battle with Macduff. "I will not yield. ***** Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane And thou oppos'd, be of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield : lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be he that first cries, 'Hold, enough.' " THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 155 Another objective view of his character is that of his wife her-self: "Yet do I fear thy nature ; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness, To catch the nearest way." Bearing these two views of his character in mind, the student is prepared to pass unbiased judgment on the subjective, the real ele-ments of Macbeth's soul, as seen in the text itself. The first fact which may be established is that he had thought of murdering Duncan before meeting with the witches. Macbeth is not a good man fallen under the spell of witch-craft, which im-pels him to his bloody deeds. The first suggestion of murder comes from him soon after the approach of Ross and Angus: "Why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair * * * * My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical." Murder had been mentioned by no one—not even the witches— up to this time, and the prophecies of the witches were not such as to encourage or arouse the thought. They addressed him as Glamis, Cawdor, and "King that shalt be." The first he was by his father Sinel's death. With regard to the second: he was returning from a victory over the traitorous Thane of Cawdor, and it was in accordance with the customs of the time that the forfeited estates and title should be bestowed upon the victor. With regard to the last: Macbeth was next in succession to Dun-can, being his fiist cousin, and next of kin who was of age, as Malcolm and Donalbain were minors. His chance of becoming king was so apparent that the prophecy did not surprise the loyal and honest Banquo: "Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear Things that do sound so fair?" It was but natural for Macbeth to dream of kingship, but there was no need of crime to attain it. But one reason can be as-signed for the tumult which the witches aroused in Macbeth's mind—his former thought of murder. But we may go further: it is clearly stated that he had broached the subject to his wife before this occasion. When Duncan is in his castle, after he has definitely made up his mind to commit the murder, he tells her that he will not go on, and she replies: I56 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. " What beast was't then That made you break this enterprise to me ? » * * * Nor time nor place, Did then adhere, and yet you would make both." There is nothing here to support the theory of a good man gone to ruin through the evil influence of his wife. Macbeth himself was the originator of the murderous plan. Assured by the early fulfilment of part of the prophecy, Mac-beth seems inclined to drop his thought of murder and let matters take their course. "If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me Without my stir." He seems content to await what may happen. But, unfortu-nately, the very thing happens within an hour which is needed to again arouse his wicked purpose. The king, happy in success, lavishly bestows honors, and among them, makes his son Prince of Cumberland, which was the title assumed by the successor to the throne. While this act of Duncan's was not constitutional, it was not objected to, and Macbeth sees two men in his way in-stead of one. The barrier between him and the throne is in-creasing. Accordingly, announcing that he will go before to make ready for the king at his castle, he adds: "Stars, hide your fires Let not light see my black and deep desires; The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see." This is the pivotal point in the play. Macbeth had a vague in-tention of murder before, but now he has made up his mind to commit the deed, and on that very night. Duncan's fate is set-tled. It is quite possible that Macbeth led his wife to believe that she was impelling him to the murder. It would be in entire ac-cord with the hypocrisy of his nature to bring about her moral downfall in such a way. Having made up his mind to the murder, he enters his castle. "Macbeth. My dearest love, Duncan comes here to-night. Lady Macbeth. And when goes hence? THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 157 Macbeth. To-morrow, as he purposes. Lady Macbeth. O ! never Shall sun that morrow see, Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange matters." And so later he says that he cannot do it, then yields little by little to her representations of the ease of the murder and of their escape from blame. We are impelled to pity this wife, who, guilty in her own ambition and assent to his plans, is dragged farther and farther down the road to ruin by the false dealing of her more wicked husband. This hypocrisy runs through the entire play and is manifested toward all, till his consciousness of his own false nature leads him to distrust everyone else. But the strangest element in Macbeth's character is seen in the beautiful imagery which he employs in pondering over the worst crimes. He loves to play with his conscience ; to set forth his crime pro and con; to conjure up its consequences, and he does it in language which one must admire. He is the greatest poet Shakespeare has shown the world and his genius rises as his deeds are darkest. He weighs and ponders the murder of Duncan and discusses it with his wife, until the phantom of his brain seems to be projected into space—he sees a dagger. For a moment he has a qualm of superstitious fear, but dismisses it quickly. "It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes." Then he promptly loses himself in rapt revery, and ushers in his crime with a beautiful soliloquy : "Now o'er the one-half world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse The curtained sleeper: witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings ; and withered murder, Alarumed by his sentinel the wolf, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it." Nothing can be more awful than this portrait of a murderer reveling in mental images of what he is about to do, and causing riteUMmmmiwimmMmiMMmMB 158 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. wave after wave of emotion to pass over his sensibility, for the sake of the intellectual pleasure it gives him; yet never swerving from his inexorable purpose. With what poetic beauty of lan-guage he later describes the scene in Duncan's room : "Here lay Duncan His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood; And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature For ruin's wasteful entrance." Absorbed with the pathetic words in which he has painted his picture, he never sees that they have caused his wife to faint. He is not the man to care for a matter of such small moment as his wife's feelings. He has been spoken of as a man of moral coward-ice. This may be true to some degree, but his fears were never more than superstitious, and never stood in the way of his pur-poses for an instant. He amply paid for any such weakness in his absolute lack of feeling. The influence of the supernatural upon Macbeth's course is a most interesting point of investigation. Was Macbeth responsible for his actions, or did the witches impel him to all he did? He certainly acted for himself in the beginning of his downward path. The first meeting with the witches contained nothing to compel into the course he took, but rather discouraged it. Banquo had as much reason as he to commit murder—even more, for the throne was promised to Macbeth himself, but to Banquo's descendants only. Had Banquo not been the loyal, honest soldier that he was, he would have planned death for both Duncan and Macbeth, that he might rule in person. Macbeth had only to wait, to become king honorably. But in his second consultation with the weird sisters, he surrenders himself to them; they advise him wrongly, and in his after deeds he seems impelled by a supernatural power— he has fallen into the net of Ate. In preparing the charm, Hecate tells us "He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear; And you all know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy." There are two side-lights thrown on the character of Macbeth which may be of interest. The first is the opinion of Hecate con-cerning him, expressed when she upbraids the witches for giving him any knowledge of the future: THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "How did you dare To trade and traffic with Macbeth, In riddles and affairs of death ; 159 All you have done Hath been but for a wayward son, Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do, Loves for his own ends." We must remember that this comes from a supernatural being, and, as such, must be Shakespeare's estimate of Macbeth's real character. The second is the hypothesis that Macbeth was the third mur-derer who took part in the slaying of Banquo. This is not plainly stated, but may be argued from several standpoints. So intelli-gent a man as Macbeth would hardly entrust such a thing to two parties who did not know one another ; the third man displays a most intimate knowledge of Banquo's affairs, and is most eager for the murder. It is he who brings complete instructions; who first hears Banquo's horses; he when the others wonder that they seem to be going away, explains what Banquo usually does, re-calling himself by the quickly uttered "so all men do;" he rec-ognizes Banquo; he demands why the light has been put out, and first notices the escape of Fleance. Macbeth was not at the ban-quet, for it was appointed for seven oclock : but, as the ghost ap-peared and the guests were sent away before it had really begun, and it was then midnight, it could not have begun before eleven. This leaves four hours to be accounted for, These facts, then, seem to prove that Macbeth was a man who was not content to command the_ murder of a faithful friend, to gratify his jealousy, but must do it with his own hands—in truth, murder incarnate. A poet of the highest intellectual power, who expressed his blackest deeds in the most beautiful language; a man who de-lighted in exploring every phase and consequence of his action, for the sake of the emotional waves which would pass over his soul; a man of great sensibility, but no feeling, who could weep at his own portrayal of his sins, yet never think of pausing in their committal; a selfish, hypocritical, cold-blooded villain, with the physical bravery of the devil himself, and just enough moral weakness to superstitiously shudder for a moment—what a soul-study is presented in Macbeth ! —L,. A. W., *00. i6o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. SUCCESS IN BUSINESS. ASUCCESSFUL business man exercises a great influence in a country, both morally and financially. The requisites for this success are many. To be success-fully engaged in financial business, the old saying applies very well, that, "you must drive your business, and never let your business drive you." To do this one must be punctual in fulfilling all business en-gagements, laying aside all else, and especially keep his mind away from all worldly pleasures, attending to business first, pleasure afterwards. One must have a foresight in his pecuniary affairs. His experience in his past business must teach him to look for-ward, as to how the market stands, whether it indicates an ad-vance or a decline. His experience will teach him how to judge the market to a great extent. Then he should not be forgetful as to the standing of his bank account, and a favorable one will generally add to his prospects of success. On comparing the two, the one who drives his business, and the other who lets his business drive him, we find a vast differ-ence. The one driven by his business never looks forward, and is always in the dark as to how he stands in his affairs, until the time is reached when it is too late to make the necessary changes, which if they had been made in time would have saved him from a financial distress. His creditors come on him and he is unable to make up a sum sufficient to pay them all and consequently be-comes bankrupt. The other man, driving his business, always keeps posted as to his financial condition and is always prompt in meeting all his business obligations, and therefore is respected by all the commu-nity and is happy and prosperous. At times circumstances arise which cripple a business man through no fault of his own. The successful man will rise above these, commence anew and build a second reputation. The un-successful man will sink down, prostrated by the storm and never will rise again in business life. To be successful morally one must show by his business trans-actions that he has the welfare of his patrons at heart, as well as his own financial success. The unsuccessful man is generally of the kind whose time is nearly all given up to idle pleasures for THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 161 his own amusement, and who cares not for the welfare of his pa-trons. He has for the most part no religious tendencies and con-sequently can not have any influence for the good in the locality in which he resides. But the successful man by his integrity wins the esteem and confidence of his patrons and associates. By his industry, energy and perseverance he sets a good example to those employed by him. He is generally a man who possesses some re-ligious tendencies, and experience teaches us that this is the most essential characteristic for success. Probably nothing can be given to prove this more forcibly than the fact that the most prominent business men in our coun-try to-day are industrious, energetic, persevering, and drive their business instead of allowing their business to drive them. —D., '00. A MIRROR'S REFLECTIONS. [SECOND GIES PRIZE ESSAY.] IT had been fitted into the marble mantlepiece years ago, when the house was built, that large square of beveled glass with its back-ground of mercury, and year by year it rested there in its place against the wall, with wide, unsleeping eyes, noting all that went on in the room. At first the only sight that met its astonished gaze was the blank, white wall opposite. That was when the house was new. But soon objects and persons appeared on the scene, to attract the attention of the observant mirror, when, the house completed, families moved in. For this was one of those large houses, built in great cities, for the accommodation of many families, and it fronted on a busy street where all day long numberless feet hurried to and fro, cars whizzed by, and carts and wagons rattled over the pavement. But of all this the mirror knew nothing. It could see only what was going on in its immediate vicinity. One day a dainty covering of pale blue and gold appeared on the bare wall opposite, and a graceful picture of St. Cecilia hung there. Chairs were scattered about, and the white keys of a piano shone in the glass. Some potted plants added to the beauty of a picture already pleasing to the mirror's curious eyes, but the sight that delighted it most was the vision of a happy face, peeping in a dozen times a day to arrange a curl or set a ribbon right. Some- 162 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. times a man's dark face bent over the woman's fair one, and formed a perfect picture, but only the mirror saw it. Once in awhile a third and smaller face appeared, and a pair of tiny hands were stretched to "catch the baby in the glass." These same pictures the mirror saw, day after day, and never tired of reflecting. But one day a new and strange sight greeted its eyes. Near the opposite wall stood a tiny white box, in which was hid the baby form, now cold and still, while over it pale flowers were strewn. No happy face peeped into the mirror in those days, and soon after the chairs and flowers disappeared, the room was left empty and desolate. But not for long could the mirror mourn over lost faces; new scenes came into its field of vision. Great heaps of books were piled up on a table against the opposite wall, and beneath the light of a green-shaded lamp a boy sat with his head resting on his hands. Often the mirror saw him thus, for hours at a time, turn-ing pages earnestly, and, all the while running restless fingers through his hair. Sometimes his head dropped down upon the table, and he fell fast asleep. Sometimes he got angry and threw a book across the room. Now and then a whole troop of boys came rushing past the mirror, pausing occasionally to adjust a tie, or part their hair exactly in the middle. How long the students came and went before its shining sur-face the mirror did not know,—but it seemed a long time. One day, however, the room was again deserted, the opposite wall a blank. And thus it remained for many a weary month, until the mirror grew tired of staring at the bare walls, and longed for the sight of a living face. At last it came, a gentle patient face, framed in snowy hair, a woman's face, yet one that seldom paused before the mirror's answering eyes, a face lined by suffering, yet deeply sweet. On the walls no pictures hung, no elegant bits of furniture brightened the room, just plain chairs, and a table on which stood a single red geranium plant. The woman seemed to be quite alone, except at long intervals, when a handsome, bold-faced man staggered by the wondering glass, and brought tears to the eyes of the sad mother. One night when a little lamp burned on the table, a still form was carried into the room by stranger-hands. Soon after that the opposite wall was blank again. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 163 Many years had passed, and the busy street was no longer fashionable as a residence. Well-to-do folk sought other parts of the city, and the poorer class took possession. This the mirror did not know, so it looked with startled eyes upon the troop of ragged little ones, who next sought shelter within range of its gleaming surface. Hungry-looking children they were, who played all day long with simple toys in the bare room, and at night crept softly into corners to hide from the eyes of a cruel man. But one evening as the shadows began to fall, and obscured the view of the mirror, a sudden tumult arose, the children ran hither and thither, some-thing crashed against the mantlepiece, a blow shivered the glass, and the mirror's reflections were ended. -A. R. W., '99. PEN SKETCHES FROM NATURE. [THIKD GIES PRIZE ESSAY.] I DO not wonder at the ancients who peopled the earth, sea and air with gods, and then lest some one should be omitted and offended, built altars to both the known and the unknown ones. For even to-day, with all our minute knowledge of nature and revelation, her mild moods fills the breasts of the most in-telligent with fear and awe. Clouds assume monstrous and fore-boding forms and go scurrying, like martial hosts, across the sky, or hang like smouldering mountains on the distant horizon, hurl-ing bolts of fire at each other the while they are lit up by lurid flames and are rolling forth volley upon volley of artillery, whose concussions shake the very earth. Nor is there less to marvel at, even if there is less to fear, when the rain comes down in cata-racts, when the whistling sleet drives swift and sharp, or when the crystalline snow silently changes the bare fields into acres of diamonds. To the ancients, all these agencies in nature were persons or represented personalities. Beautiful conceptions they were, in-deed; but how much grander are ours. We have studied cloud formation and movement; have discovered sufficient of the laws by which electricity acts to harness it for our use, and have di-vested all nature of the personal element. But though we have thus removed Heaven from our surroundings as we have emerged 164 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. from the infancy of our race, we have made it a far higher and nobler conception. In learning that God is not in the whirlwind, we have subordinated it as a manifestation of Him to that gen-eralized and centralized Force, which is all powerful to create and all sufficient to preserve in equipoise the energies which are continuously working in nature. Nature is no longer manifesta-tions of persons, but of a Person. * * * * A little knowledge of nature often reconciles us to workings which otherwise seem only destructive. Many a man whose buildings lie in ashes, the result of a "hot stroke" of lightning, questions the utility of lightning, and is disposed to attribute it to an angry God, useful only to Him as an instrument of revenge, even as the ancients placed the thunder-bolts in the hands of angry Zeus. The following fact sought to receive our consideration and help to reconcile us. The air which we breathe is a mixture of three gases, possessing no particular affinity for each other. They are continually being used up by animal and vegetable growth and from the same sources again given off free. In an unmixed condition they would not serve their purpose. The mixing is pro-moted by electric discharges, and knowing thoroughly how essen-tial this process is to vegetable and animal growth, and especially to one's own life, it is easier to be reconciled to temporary loss and even to suffering, than when one is ignorant of these workings of nature. Not so destructive are meteors. Only occasionally does one read of a house being crushed and a family destroyed by their fall. Of what use are they? Any one who has lived in a city whose atmosphere is foggy of mornings, will attribute the same to the smoke, and so it is. The air is capable of holding a great deal of moisture, and were it perfectly free from dust particles, very little of the moisture would be precipitated. A heavy dew would likely fall nightly, but no showers, though the air be al-ways damp and laden to the point of saturation. The little dust particles are helpful to the formation of drops of rain. Meteors are the chief source of this microscopic dust. Coming from way out in space, millions and millions of miles from us, cold as space, they make a start for the sun. However, some of them in their eagerness to start on their journey, do not calculate for our earth and the power she has of influencing small bodies, and coming too near, they get caught in the atmosphere and only oc- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 165 casionally does any such escape. Even if anyone does, it is only after it has been so singed by the friction of the winds that it is scarcely to be recognized again by its most intimate friends. Its path can be traced by its long trail of dust, a memento of its visit. These dust particles become the recruiting points of the invisible moisture and the clouds are formed, and when they fall as rain or snow they bring the dust with them. But there are generally more of these particles than the moisture can use up, so the little sunbeams use these in a game of hide and seek and dash in and out among them so swift and in such varied ways that all we can see is the region in which they play, which seems a large city of fairy palaces painted in orange and jasper and gold, and we wish their morning and evening play hours would last all the day. Science in its infancy saw only facts; it is now discovering re-lations, and more and more tracing all phenomena to a central force which is causal for all events and existences. In this uni-fying and classifying process, there are some points which must remain for some time yet on debatable ground. The exact line of demarcation between the plant and the animal kingdoms is not fixed; in the lowest orders they merge insensibly into each other. As we rise above these low forms, the differences are more marked and charasteristic, physically ; but we never reach a point where they are not dependent and related, virtually. Beyond my window is a field of clover. Odor and color at-tract the bee. The pollen and nectar gives him a double burden to wing hive-ward. Both these are essential to his life. Neither does the clover yield them without being blest in the giving. Unknowingly the bee fertilizes the ovary and the plant is perpet-uated. This is only one link in the great chain of united and de-pendent relations. The clover roots penetrate into the soil, and air and water follow, disintegrating rocks and forming soluble compounds of the inorganic elements. These latter cannot sup-port animal life; but transformed into clover, they become, through the agency of the bee, honey—delicious and wholesome; or, con-sumed by the herds, flesh—invigorating and sustaining. Thus does the thinking man discover that in thousands of ways are nature's forces united and working for the sustenance and happi-ness of him, who is the crown of her products, and the best ex-pression of earthly existence. IHH^HHHmm 166 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I remember as if 'twere yesterday, how, when a child, I was used to bend over little cone-shaped cavities in the soft soil under a thick-leaved tree or shelving rock and cry, "Rolly-bolly, come up your hole, come up your hole, come up your hole." I usually succeeded in getting "rolly-bolly" to respond, for soon the little grains of soil would move as though he were coming up. I never could get him to come clean out, though; and, angered at him on this account, would order him, "down your hole," or dig him out with a stick. I never once thought they had any other mo-tive for making pits or living than to come out when called unless they were stubborn. Alas, for all such childish fancies! I have since watched them and found that those are real treacherous pit-falls, formed with a malicious purpose,—to catch the innocent ants. And so voracious and cruel are these "rolly-bollies" that they deserve the name given them—ant-lion. The surest way to get them to come up is to throw a struggling ant into the little pit. The ant is at once conscious of its danger and immediately begins a pitiable and frantic effort to get up the incline. But the little grains of sand roll down beneath the struggling feet, and, trembling, sink into the treacherous quick-sands below at whose centre there is already a vigorous pushing up. Soon the ant is being helplessly pulled down by its leg into the dining room of its superior and hungry foe. You cruel rolly-bolly, what are you good for anyhow ? Do you do anything but kill the industrious ants ? What are you here for ? If rolly-bolly could answer I know he would say that life is as sweet to him as it is to the ant or to me. A sad and unpleasant law this seems at first: "And that a rose may breathe its breath, Something- must die." Humanity rebels against it. Man uses the power given him to exercise dominion over the earth, air, and sea, and even wages war against his kind, to prolong his little life which disease and death soon terminate. Could not God have peopled the earth with a limited number of immortal beings and prevented all this merciless warfare between kingdoms and races and species, and the shameful survival of the bloody strongest ? Doubtless it could have been done. But if the ant-lion and the ant could speak, they would likely prefer to live as they do, foes indeed, but each one enjoying life with all its dangers and uncertainties. And surely we can learn a lesson. The sum total of happiness is THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 167 greater when many enjoy life a short while that if a few should live always. It is our duty to live as long as nature permits, "to husband out life's taper to its close" ; to be unselfish for the sake of those who are living now; to be virtuous for the sake of those who shall live after us. Just as one meets with surprises in observing nature, finding unlooked for beauties and new adaptations, so there also await us disappointments. Birds, flowers and minerals which have been idealized by painter and poet are always disappointing when they are seen in reality, and this is especially true of those things which have been used as symbolic of the celestial and spiritual. St. John's description of the walls of the New Jerusalem is so sub-lime that one builds them of imaginary stones more exquisite than ever were found. For if built of our real amethyst, jasper and topaz, their combination would be exceedingly disappointing. But what better could be done ? Alone on Patmos, surrounded by rocks and sea and sky, conscious of the povetry of language and the inadequacy of terrestial objects as symbols, he fills in the picture with these colors, with a feeling identical to that expe-rienced when in the midst of the book-learned world he tells us, at the close of his beautiful gospel, that the world could not contain the books that should be written. These are only symbols. The music for the ears, the colors for the eyes will be such as hath never yet been conceived by the heart of man. # * # ^ There is but one way to Nature's soul, accessible to all ages and conditions ; it is found by those who love her with a sympa-thetic heart, for herself alone. The scholar who has habituated himself to scientific analysis of every object he meets, fails to se-cure that best knowledge of her tempers and strivings. A poor comforter indeed would he be who was so scientifically inclined as to think of the proportion of water and salts of sodium and potash in the tears of his weeping.friend. Is he any more worthy of Nature's confidence who sees in every bird an ornithological specimen, in every flower an addition to the herbarium, in every stone a mineral for his cabinet ? To see her best we must look at her sometimes with simple childlike eyes, even as we did when every object was for us a living personality. i68 T THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "Siisse, heilige Natur, Lass mich gehn auf deiner Spur, Leite mich an deiner Hand Wie ein Kind am Gangelband 1 Wenn ich dann ermiidet bin, Sink' ich dir am Busen hin, Athme siisse Himmelslust Hang-end an der Mutter Brust. Ach, wie wohl ist mir bei dir! Will dich lieben fii and ffir ! Lass mich gehn auf deiner Spur, Liisse, heilige Natur ! " —F. L. Stolberg. —W. B. C, '99. EDITOR'S DESK. HIS word from the MERCURY comes late but it is sincere: Welcome, thrice welcome to the Freshmen ! The Gies prize of seventy-five dollars has been offered again to the students of Gettysburg. The object of the generous and loyal alumnus who offers it is to develop literary talent among our students and to afford the best possible material for the MER-CURY. As this prize gives so fine a chance for a convenient pocket-full, every one with a spark of ability should compete. Since the number of students competing for the prize last year was small, of course the articles of value for the MERCURY were few. This prize money is divided between the three best contributors, into parts of thirty-five, twenty-five, and fifteen dollars. Last year the successful contributors were Luther A. Weigle, 'oo; Anna R. Welty, '99; and W. Bruce Carney, '99. The paramount object of an institution of learning is mental training and consequently one would suppose that those intending to enter such an institution would be influenced more by its facili-ties to develop mental power than by anything else. Yet such is by no means the case, for the high record of a college in ath-letics is found to be its best drawing card. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 169 Whether this incentive is one that friends of a college may be proud to use or whether it is disgraceful that superiority in con-tests of skill and physical strength should be made the basis of appeal to those desiring to enter college is not for us to answer. What we must meet is this fact, that not to fall behind its class, a college must make a good record in athletics. The sizes of Freshman classes in institutions making a good name in athletics last year seem to indicate that successful athletics means success-ful colleges. We rejoice that Dr. McKuight is living in the present and is doiugall in his power to stimulate athletics in Gettysburg. Many of Gettysburg's best friends little think how vital the question of athletics is to our college. L,oyal alumni, Gettysburg calls on you for support! Remember the Athletic Association of your Alma Mater! COLLEGE Y. M. C. A. DURING recent years the work of the Young Men's Chris-tian Association has been forcing itself steadily before the gaze and the admiration of the public and to-day it must be recognized as a mighty power in the world. It is our duty therefore to look at it as such. In its growth it has had great obstacles to overcome and one of them has been the great lack of interest and aid given it by the Christian people. In fact many have been positively antagonistic to the movement. This should not be and I feel that if the work in all its departments were fully understood there could no longer be this antagonism. It is our purpose therefore to show to you a little of the inner life of the association. It might be well to look first at the aims and purposes of this movement as a whole and also at its divisions of work. L,et me state here that the Y. M. C. A. is not apart from the church, that it is not a separate and distinct organization, but a part of the church, reaching out its hands unto thousands of young men and bringing them into active church work. Its fundamental purpose then is to bring men to a saving knowledge of their L,ord and Savior, Jesus Christ. It is to help them to successfully battle against temptations and bring them into vital connection with the church. No other part of the church seems so ably 170 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. adapted to carry on this work among young men. In that it is a movement distinctly for men, we are able to reach many whom otherwise it would be almost impossible to save. The association work is non-sectarian and therefore should appeal to every branch of the evangelical church. As most probably is known to all, the work is divided into three distinct branches, the town, the railroad and the student. As we see how the many young men who are swarming our cities and towns are kept from yielding to the temptations peculiar to these places, and how many more are led to an acceptance of Christ, and as we see in the railroad circles the real earnest en-thusiasm in the cause of Christ and winning of souls to Him among those who have found the Life, we cannot but feel God is with us, and if He is with us, we know that souls must be saved and this is the fundamental aim of all our work. But we cannot dwell longer on these departments, but must turn our attention to that branch which is of vital importance to the student world. It is a recognized fact that the men who are to rule the world are the men who year after year are crowding out of the doors of our institutions of learning. If therefore we wish our government to be under the control of Christian men, men who will not flinch at doing their duty no matter what the consequences may be, it is of the most extreme importance that these men be won to Christ in their youth while they are within the college walls. To this end we are striving. It is almost impossible for anyone who has not been on the ground for himself to realize the awful need of Christian work in the colleges of our country. It fairly makes the heart break as time after time we see fellows coming from Christian homes where every helpful influence has been thrown around them and where possibly they have been looked up to for nobleness of character, and then come to college, sepa-rated from home and launched out into an entirely new life with its peculiar temptations, and amid fellows, some loving and some not knowing Christ, and then to see them fall little by little. It is pitiable in the extreme. And then there are those who have never known Christ, and what an awful influence they have on the weak Christians. It is for this that those who are Christians may be kept from falling and kept in touch with Christian work and that those who know Him not may be brought to Him that the Y. M. C. A. stands in college. I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 171 In order to accomplish this we do not depend alone on our re-ligious meetings which we hold twice every week, but we have regularly organized Bible, Missionary and Personal Workers classes. If we wish to broaden our spiritual life we must employ those means which God has distinctly made known to us, and these are secret prayer and Bible study. The importance of this can not be too strongly urged. It is the backbone of all Chris-tian work. The International Committee of the Y. M. C. A. has furnished us with a most excellent systematic, devotional course of Bible study. Through it in the four years of college life a man has had a bird's eye view of the entire Bible. The Fresh-men take up the life of Christ; the Sophomores "Studies in the Acts and the Epistles" ; the Juniors, Old Testament characters ; and the Seniors, the crowning truths of the Bible. The Senior course will not be ready, however, for another year. The classes meet once every week and are entirely under the control of the students. Four years ago in the colleges throughout the United States and Canada there were eight thousand students banded to-gether in Bible study. Last year that number was increased to twelve thousand who continued in the work at least two months. The Morning Watch is urged for the most successful Bible study. This is the setting apart of about fifteen to thirty minutes to Bible study and secret prayer at the very beginning of the day when we can give our best thought to God. How can we afford not to give God this little time that we may hold sweet commun-ion with Him. Missions are brought prominently to the front in our work. Here again we use the course prescribed by the International Com-mittee. The class meets every week. Besides the class work, contributions are solicited from the students for Missions. In connection with the class is a volunteer band for the foreign field. The great need of missions is becoming to be more and more felt and where can there be a better place to stir up the mission spirit than right among college men ? Another most important part of our work is the personal work done among the fellows. A class is formed for the best methods of doing personal work and for discussion of the work to be done. Personal work is something every Christian ought to do and for which there is no excuse for not doing but rather condemnation. Another feature of the work is the work among the new stu- 172 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. dents, meeting them at the train and doing whatever we can for them to help in making them feel at home. An information bureau is also conducted. Especial efforts are put forth at the opening of the term to enlist men in Christian work before they form any evil associations. A reception is also held at the open-ing of the term for the new students that they may all become acquainted with each other and with all the men in college. May this brief sketch of the work of our association but move us on to a more earnest and prayerful appreciation of these privileges which we now enjoy, and may its success be the con-stant prayer of all who are interested in the cause of Christ. —WM. J. MIMJER, Jr., '00. TWO MISCHIEVOUS FALLACIES IN EDUCATION. EDUCATION, as we now understand the meaning of the term, must accomplish its purposes in the face of two mis-chievous and prevalent fallacies. The first of these is the fallacy of the short cut, the desire to avoid a long course of study and discipline; the disposition to make our culture consist in a few phrases and in merely superfi-cial knowledge of a great many things. Especially is this the case with the young people. While a boy is at his studies, his acquaintance, who is doing something that can be rated in dollars, measured with the yard-stick or weighed upon the scales, seems to him to be getting on, while he seems to be standing still; so he chafes and frets at his studies and longs to be in active business. How much better it would be for the world if such a boy could be made to understand that it is no gain, but a fatal loss of time to undertake to have a hand in the world's work before he can do anything that the world really wants; that if he wants a place he must first become such a person that the place will want him. The impatient boy ought to understand that so far as he is con-cerned the world is entirely patient, that it is quite willing to wait for him until he has mastered himself and some department of knowledge or industry, but that when he has done that the world is so impatient for him that it will at once find him out and set him at work. If however, he undertakes to participate in the world's work before he has fully prepared himself, what-ever he seeks he will find at his elbow some better man seeking THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 173 the same thing—some man who did what he failed to do ; a man who made the most of himself; who did not strive to do four years' work in three; a man who made the utmost of all his op-portunities. It is true not only that the trained man wins, but that the trained man is about the only one wanted to do any kind of work. In ordinary conversation we find ourselves referring to the young graduate as having "completed his course" or "finished his education," and yet if we think soberly of the matter we know that if the school or college has done its work properly for him it has only prepared him to be educated. The idea that education is a thing to be concluded definitely within a few of the earlier years of life, then to be regarded as forever over and done, and that it consists of some disagreeable preliminaries of syntax, Latin, grammar and rhetoric, to be gotten out of the way as speedily as possible; this idea of education we understand to be thoroughly obsolete. Rather do we understand that education, if it means anything, means the continual enrichment of the re-sources of the individual. How foolish then to think that an education can be "completed" or "finished" by taking a shortcut. The president of a certain college on being asked by a young man if he could not in two years probably get all the good that the college could give him, said: '' Well young man, when God wants to make a squash He takes about six weeks, but when He wants to make an oak He takes a hundred years." Another difficulty against which we must strive in the educa-tion of others or of ourselves is the alluring fallacy about the self-made man. Some one has wittily said that the chief char-acteristic of the self-made man is that he is much given to the worship of his Maker. Doubtless this is more witty than it is just. By a self-made man we generally mean one who has achieved distinguished success without the aid of schools, and if we think soberly about the matter we are in no great danger of saying too much in praise of such men. America, of all countries, should speak respectfully of the self-made man. In no other country has he achieved such splendid things; no other country probably owes so much to the self-made man. But what does he prove? In every case where a man has achieved great success by his own unaided efforts, he has been a man of extraordinary abilities, 174 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and he has succeeded by means of these abilities in spite of and not because of the lack of other aids. We are now beginning to recognize the fact that the self-made man is one who has made the most of his opportunities. Every-man in the world who amounts to anything is a self made man. It is simply a question of using one's actual opportunities. Abra-ham Lincoln was a self-made man. So just as truly was William Gladstone. The opportunities of the one were those of narrowness and poverty; of the other, abundance and comfort. Each made the most of his opportunities, and for each equally this was the condition of success. We ought to understand that self-culture is not a term to be applied only to those who have not the advantages of assistance from the schools, but that the term self-culture describes the personal enrichment of every individual who simply makes the best of whatever opportunities he has. What great mischief has been wrought in the past by the fal-lacious idea that the man who takes advantage of the training which our schools and colleges offer is not a self-made man. Such a man is, indeed, the highest type of a self-made man. If we wish to be thoroughly prepared to engage in the active duties of life, and if we wish to give to the world the fullest reali-zation of our possibilities, we must be fully aware that there is no short cut in education and that the self-made man is that man who has made the most of his opportunities with or without the aid of the school or college. —' 'PROMETHEUS. '' Who reads Incessantly and to his reading- brings not A spirit and judgment equal or superior, (And what he brings, what need he elsewhere seek ?) Uncertain and unsettled still remains. Deep versed in books and shallow in himself. —Milton. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 175 WHY WE SHOULD BE TRUE AND HONEST. TRUTHFULNESS and honesty go hand in hand. Truth alone may not constitute a great man but it is the most im-portant element of great character. It gives security to those who employ it and confidence to those who use it. It is an essential to every man no matter who he is, the king on his royal throne or the slave in the galley. In fact it is one of the first re-quisites for true manhood. Lying, common as it is, is denounced by the liar himself. He protests that he is speaking the truth for he knows that truth is universally respected and a lie universally condemned. He who tells an untruth is not only dishonest but a mean coward. Fear-ing the consequences of making a true statement, he cowers be-neath a lie or probably, what is even worse, just keeps on the verge of the truth, for a lie which is half truth is the worst of lies. Exaggeration is but another name for falsehood. To exaggerate is to pass the bounds of truth and surely these bounds cannot be passed without entering the limits of falsehood. There can be no middle point; what is not true must be false. Not only may one be dishonest in the words he utters but also in his doings. Actions have as plain a voice as words. The sin-cere man speaks as he thinks, acts as he professes to act and does what he promises to do. All phases of society are permeated by this most common of vices, from the highest to the lowest. A lie is a lie, no matter if it is a little white one or a big black one. Ruskin says, "Lies may be light and accidental but they are an ugly soot from the smoke of the pit and it is better our hearts should be swept clean of them without our care as to which is the largest or the blackest." Truth and honesty show themselves in many ways. They characterize the men of just dealings, the faithful men of business and those men who will not deceive you to their own advantage. Full measures, just weights, true sample and a strict fulfillment of engagements are indispensable to men who would succeed. We are always complaining of adulteration of the goods we buy. We pay for one thing and get another. In the study of Chemistry, we learn for instance, how cotton goods is very often treated so as to bring more money into the manufacturer's pocket. The cotton is loaded with china clay, starch, magnesium or zinc. 176 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. When such goods is washed, the clay and starch are removed and it becomes a rag. Recently an engineer crossing the Indian Ocean was decorating his turban with a piece of muslin. "Is that English?" he was asked. His answer was, "No, it is from Swit-zerland. The English makes my fingers stick. It's too gummy." This is the way the dishonest Englishman would eventually lose his trade by forcing this inferior, shoddy stuff on his customers. Why not be honest and sell goods for what they are ? Thus in all walks of life one may find falsehood and deception. But why ? Is it not always easier to tell the true straightforward story than to go to the trouble to invent a lie ? At first it is, but like all other habits, lying increases with practice and an experienced liar often finds difficulty in telling the truth. Very many times he tells a crooked story where the truth would have served his purpose even better. —J. C. M., '00. e^j THE RELATION OF COMMERCE TO MISSIONS. WE are living in an age of great commercial activity. The remarkable progress of science within the last century has afforded surprising facility in international commu-nication ; distances have been annihilated, and those parts of the globe most widely separated may now be said to be in compara-tively close touch with one another. The printing press, the railroad, the telegraph and the steamboat have brought into ex-istence an international community of interests as well as of thought. Along with this there has naturally sprung up great commercial rivalry, and nation now vies with nation in seeking new markets for its products. Vast as the world's great market is, the gigantic proportions of our modern manufacturing industries demand new openings. Nor would it seem a difficult task to find such openings when we but consider the hundreds upon hundreds of millions who need but be raised from their present state of savagery and barbarism to the light and life of our modern civilization to create new de-mands for the world's supply of commodities. With this object in view trading posts and colonies have fre-quently been established in the midst of savage peoples in order to awaken among them the wants peculiar to civilized life by THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 177 bringing them, as much as possible, into contact with the products and institutions of civilization. However, the results of such undertakings have not,as a rule,been of a nature calculated to recom-mend the system to us. Evidently the principle was wrong; our sav-age brothers need something more potent than the mere veneer of our modern civilization to bring them into a condition in which there will be a demand for the commodities of commerce. It is evident to the most casual thinker that between commerce and missions there exists a natural relation; but the remarkable closeness and strength of this relation is recognized by compara-tively few. We all agree with the statement that missions ma-terially promote commercial activity; but many of us shake the head, or at least want time to think it over, when we hear the statement that the founding of missions is essential to commer-cial success in a heathen land. That the latter statement is true however, we believe a careful study of the subject will prove. Reference has already been made to the efforts put forth to re-claim the savage from his degraded state and create in him new wants by familiarizing him with the manners and institutions of civilized society. The utter failure of such efforts has also been referred to. Experience has shown that the savage man may come into frequent contact with civilized men and the products of civilization without being in any way prompted to change his own mode of life. To him civilization, with its multifarious wants, is sheer foolishness, and contrasts very unfavorably with his own life of indolence and general simplicity. What then is the "Open Sesame" whereby commerce may gain entrance to this great market? The answer is plainly, the Gospel of Christ,—not civilization, as we have learned, for gen-uine civilization, with all its requirements must be preceded by the Gospel; whenever the order is reversed failure results. We might cite numerous examples to substantiate this statement. That civilization alone is insufficient is proven moreover by the fact that savages, after having been separated from their na-tive tribes and degraded life for years, given a good education and brought under the influence of the highest civilization, have fre-quently been known to relapse again into savagery. For a very significant illustration of this fact permit us to quote from Rev. J. C. Bryant, who, in writing in the Missionary Journal, says: "Of fourteen young meu who have left my employ within two i78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. years, one has since been converted, and of course clothes him-self; the rest go naked as before, showing how impossible it is to civilize men without first converting them. Wash a pig and shut him in a parlor, he may stay clean for a while, but as soon as free he will return to wallowing in the mire. Make a lamb of him, and at once he gives up his filthy ways. To try to civilize heathen without converting them is to try to make lambs of swine by washing them and putting on them a fleece of wool." Thus we see that the only way whereby the world's savage and degraded millions may be brought into the full light and en-joyment of civilization and thus be made important factors in commerce is the way of the Gospel. It is only when the Gospel enters the hearts of men that they awaken to the great possibili-ties of life. New wants are created. The former savage no longer lives in tents and covers his body with the skins of beasts but dwells in a house and dons the garb of civilization. Instead of the few and primitive wooden implements by means of which he formerly cultivated the soil, he now uses modern implements of agriculture. And in every department of life this inward transformation gives rise to a demand for the various products of civilization. And thus it ever is, the Gospel opens the way, and in its wake comes the commerce of civilized lands. For another illustration of the great value of missions to commerce, let us briefly consider the missionary development of the Sandwich Islands. Less than three-quarters of a century ago these Islands were utterly valueless from a commercial standpoint. The inhabitants, who were most ignorant and lazy, lived in sav-age simplicity. The Gospel was carried to those Islands, with the result that a wonderful transformation followed. Civilized com-munities sprang into existence; churches and school-houses were built; agriculture was given new life, and the fertile soil of the Islands was made to yield bountiful harvests; various industries were created, and a steady and profitable trade with the Islands began. And at the present time the entire cost of christianizing the Islands is more than paid back in less than a year at the port of San Francisco alone. Many similar instances might be cited but we believe that sufficient has been said to show that Chris-tianity is essential to real commercial success and activity in those lands now in heathen darkness. Wherever it goes it exerts a quickening influence, it actuates men to living a more exalted, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 179 more useful and more industrious life. It elevates the general character of society, and firmly establishes the power of civiliza-tion. It is essential to real progress and growth, being to human-ity what the sun is to the world. In view of these considerations it is a matter of surprise to note the comparatively slow progress which is being made in the world's evangelization. The very nature of foreign missions enti-tles them to the zealous support and encouragement of all civi-lized peoples. Christianity stands for the very highest type of civilization. Like an everflowing stream of purest water, it vivifies, purifies and transforms all with which it comes in con-tact. Christian missions constitute the only agency whereby men may be reclaimed from darkness and destructive indolence, and brought to a full realization of all the benefits of civilization. Their every advance gives a new impetus to commerce, for they bring about industry and fruitfulness. Under their divine in-fluence the earth is made to yield to men its richest treasures, and those places once desolate and unfruitful become the abodes of prosperity. "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose." —R. D. C, '00. THE UNITED STATES AS A COLONIZING NATION. EVERY nation that has ever been a factor in the development of the human race has had some strong characteristic which has given life and form to its civilization. Among the Greeks it was culture; among the Romans it was law; among the Hebrews it was purity; among the Americans this one central idea is liberty. For it, and for scarcely any other cause, thousands of them have shed blood in battle, and sacrificed their lives. From our earliest existence as a nation we were the best representative, if indeed not the only one, of pure civil and religious liberty. Two other representative characteristics of the nation are the unequaled energy and the undaunted perseverance of its people. There is scarcely any doubt that to-day the American people are the most aggressive, the most expansive and at the same time the best champions of liberty in the world. These characteristics of the people of the United States account largely for their being at i8o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. once the most extensive and the most successful colonizers the world has yet seen. "A colony is a territory, not forming, for political purposes, a part of the mother country, but dependent upon her, and peopled in part, at least, by her emigrants." According to this definition there was no time in its history that the United States has not had colonies. The small country along the Atlantic sea-board had scarcely been organized before it launched out upon one of the most extensive colonizing schemes in the history of the world. In a few years the great Northwest Territory was settled largely by colonists from the mother country and new states were formed from it. This territory was not fully developed until the vast tract known as the Louisiana Purchase was also added. This domain, large enough in itself for a strong kingdom, was thrown open for colonization and in seventy-five years scarcely less than a dozen states have been developed from it. Since then the terri-tory of the United States has been extended by the Gadson pur-chase, the Oregon cession, the annexation of Florida, the Mexican cession, the Purchase of Alaska, and the annexation of the Ha-waiian and Philippine Islands. In the colonization of this vast territory the government had no trouble with the slight exceptions of the quarrel introduced into Kansas from the states and the Mormon power in Utah. This may in part be accounted for by the contiguity of the colonies to the parent government. Since we can go no farther west but must spread out to the islands of the sea we encounter more diffi-culties; but with the schooling we have had during the last hun-dred years we need not fear for our future success in colonizing or civilizing. When we consider with our great energy and deep love of liberty, our advantageous position, our immense wealth, our mar-itime power, our extensive commerce, our enlightened civilization, and our religious enthusiasm, colonization seems to be the work for which we as a nation are especially fitted. And when we compare our colonizing policy with that of Spain we can still further see why we have thus far had so successful a career and will likely have in the future. We find that throughout her career as a colonizer her ruling passion was jealousy; that her primary objects were subjection and and self-enrichment. Everything that could possibly tend to ac- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 181 tivity, education, enterprise or independence was sedulously dis-couraged . The government of her possessions in the New World, extending at one time from 37° N. to 41 ° S., was administered entirely by foreigners who cared only for their own and the parent government's welfare. The original inhabitants, instead of be-ing raised to a higher plane of living, were reduced to a state of abject bondage and imbecility. At the beginning of the 18th century her annual income from her colonies was about ten mil-lion dollars. What do we behold as the result of such a course of colonization ? Her vast possessions in North and South Amer-ica have long ago slipped from her control, and now even Cuba, Porto Rico and the Philippine Islands, her last colonial possessions, are lost to her forever. Spain's colonial policy was a failure. Examining more closely our past career we find instead of our controlling policy being jealousy it was first a desire of improve-ment in the domestic condition of the colonies and second the strengthening of the entire country. Instead of discouraging ed-ucation, enterprise, study, and independence, schools were organ-ized and encouraged, capital was sent into the territory for indus-trial development, railroads were built, and independence was en-couraged by extending to the colonies the privilege of becoming states as soon as they were capable of self-government. Instead of being ruled entirely by the parent state the colonies selected their own officers and administered their own local affairs, the national government reserving to itself only a veto power. In short the territories were held in a state of tutelage until they could manage their own affairs and then were admitted into the Union on an equality with all the rest of the states. In our new possessions many new conditions confront the government. They are thousands of miles away ; they are mostly in tropical latitudes; and they are more thickly settled than were our former colonies. In our new venture of crossing the seas to find colonies many of our old principles will still serve us well. We have become more philanthropic in our policy: we no longer expect any strength to the home government, nor any great com-mercial advantage, and certainly no increase of wealth. Our guiding hand, liberalizing influence, and generous sympa-thies have been extended solely in the effort of raising the inhab-itants to a higher political, social and religious plane of life. Our great aim here will doubtless be as it has been in the past to train 182 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the colonists in the habit of self-government. This will be done by letting them, so far as possible, manage their own affairs to their own advantage and interest. It is now our duty to give them peace and order, the foundation of a beneficent government, and afford them every opportunity of prosecuting their lawful pursuits. —"GEORGB." ADVANTAGES OF STUDYING THE CLASSICS. OBSERVATION and the personal experience of many have proved that the classical department of an institution is the one least appreciated by the majority of the students. That such should be the case is due, perhaps mostly, to the fact that in this department we find some of the most difficult labor. It is, therefore, natural that the minds of some of the students should be prejudiced on this subject. It has often been a surprise to see men of experience argue that the study of Greek and Latin will never benefit a man. To say the least of the majority of such men, we can only say that they expose their ignorance by speaking on the subject. To convince such men that there are really benefits and advantages derived from studying the classics, is not the original idea of this produc-tion. But if they are patient in following while we speak of at least some of the advantages derived from studying the classics, they may be induced to lay aside their "Cui boni" criticism in regard to this subject. That advantages are derived from studying the classics has been proved conclusively by the past. While the world has had some powerful intellects who were not classical scholars, we can, never-theless, say that the most powerful minds of the past and the present are those which have been developed by classical culture. Let it be understood, however, that by studying the classics in this production we mean true, honest and earnest study. Not such studying as the majority of the students pursue. To say nothing of the dishonesty and injustice of such studying both towards the professors and towards the few of the class who are honest enough not to use translations, let it suffice to say that such a course of study will never secure true and lasting good to the scholars. All are willing to acknowledge that a student while at college THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 183 is laying his foundation for future usefulness in active life. And while the body must not be neglected, the mind is after all the important factor to be developed in the student. Now while the study of all the different branches has the tendency of developing the mental faculty, we hold as the first advantage derived from studying the classics, that they have the tendency more than any other branch to develop the mind of the student. The develop-ment of the mind may be a subtle point to discuss ; but what we mean by it, without bringing into consideration mental philosophy, is the cultivation of the mental faculties so as to expand the mind, thus making it stronger and more capable of grasping and prose-cuting other studies. It is the brain power that the student stands in need of, and as the muscles of a man are developed in propor-tion to his muscular efforts so the mind is developed and expanded in proportion to the exertions made. We find that in all institu-tions of learning much attention is being paid to the classical de-partment. The recitations are about as two to one compared with the recitations in any of the other departments, and frequently we find the professors in this department the most competent men of the institution. It is known that the recitations in said department are for the most part difficult. Taking, therefore, into consideration the time occupied in studying the classics and also the hard work em-ployed in solving many of the dark and mysterious passages of the same, we can come to no other conclusion than that classical training will develop the mind. In the second place, studying the classics will develop and en-large our thinking and reasoning faculties and our judgment. These are the faculties which place us so high above the brute creation, and if properly developed give to man his true dignity. The less these are developed the lower will be the standard of our manhood, but the more they are developed the higher will we as-cend towards that position intended by the Creator for all rational creatures. The man who cannot reason and think for himself is at best a poor and insignificant being. The above named faculties are the ones which should be par-ticularly developed in the student. Let him pursue the study of Greek and Latin diligently and he can not fail to improve him-self. I ATHLETICS. THE opening of the football season this year has been more encouraging than for some years. The material is better and heavier, the spirit of all the boys is higher, and the scrub team is larger and stronger than at any time within the knowledge of any man at college. There has been one great disappointment, however,—in the matter of a coach. Money is already secured to defray the expense, and a man was practically engaged, but at the last moment he went back on us, and we were left in the hole. Manager Imler THE GETTYSBURG MERCURi. 187 has been making strenuous efforts to secure a man, but has not succeeded as yet. Captain Dale has been doing all the coaching, being ably assisted by White, '97, a well-known former captain and half-back, who has been coaching the backs, and Ott and Menges, '97, former tackle and guard, who have been coaching the line men. The most attention has been given to defensive work, recognizing that there is no hope of winning the first two games—Indians and State—and the wisdom of the coachers was shown in the low score made against us by the Indians. Hickman is back at his old place as center. He plays the same good defensive game as formerly, and has improved greatly in offensive work. Nicely, our well-known big guard, is showing the same good form which always characterizes his work. Hoff-man has rapidly learned his place at left guard, and is playing an aggressive game. The guards-back is very effective as played by these men, they tearing big holes in the opponent's line. Gilbert retains his place at right tackle, with Williams, our former center, at left tackle. Gilbert's ability is well known, and Williams is fast getting on to his new place. Minuigh, a former Gettysburg High School player, is holding left end, and Emmert the "little sub," who was so much praised by Dickinson and Susquehanua last year, is playing left end. Both are speedy and manifesting excellent tackling ability. Rugh, a half on last year's team, is filling the position at quarter very acceptably, being quick and sure. Captain Dale at right half is so well known that nothing need be said concerning his ability. Koller, left tackle for two years, is filling left half. He is learning the position rapidly, and with a little experience at the place will be all that can be desired. The biggest surprise of the year is the ability displayed by Young, last year's captain and end, at full-back. He plays a fierce game, both offensive and defensive, his line-bucking being the hardest seen here for some time. Dale does all the kicking, and is prac-ticing hard at goals from the field. Other good men are Henry for the line; Krout, quarter, McClean, end, and Weaver, back. The Scrub, captained by Bottiger, 'oo, has been unsually strong, and is giving the Varsity good hard practice. The first game was played Saturday, September 23d, against the Indians at Carlisle. The result was encouraging in the highest degree, our men holding the Indians down to twenty points. In addition, but one of their tallies was a touchdown, the other three i38 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. being goals from the field kicked by Hudson. Our men played a fine game both offensive and defensive, and Young and guards tore great holes in the Indians' line. We clip from a comment on the game in the Philadelphia Times, September 25th: "Gettysburg did finely, and should rank somewhat better, it seems, than Swarthmore, Dickinson, Haverford, or Franklin and Marshall, who may usually be ranked with her.'' Now let everybody do his best to prove this prophecy true. —W. C F. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming- Pall and Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering", repairing-, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing- Goods, go to. I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flummelstomn Bromn Stone Company Quarr3Tmen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. B. ii1 j PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted. 16 Kt. Gold Pen, Indium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College. PRICE LIST. No. 1. No. 1. Chased, long- or short $2 00 Gold Mounted 3 00 No. 3. Chased 3 00 No. 3. Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 SO Twist, " " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 50 Gold Mounted 4 00 Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. WHITEWATER. WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyou. Agood local agent wanted in every school' ■ 'J^^^i^fi^jff^^-iixiJrmE CENT!) Printing and Binding We Print., 'The Mercury' THE MT. HOELY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing' and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. "SPRINGS, PA. SJ I H.S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Cigars. J7 CHAMBERSBURG ST. ■■■■■^i^^HHiH WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest/including the three days' fight, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Baltimore St., O.ETTYSBURCI, PA. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta- People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. .QO TO. l?otel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON J, A. TAWNEY ,. Is ready to furnish Clubs and Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. 'Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. W.F.CODORI, Bi2E5S£d Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. Davib Croxcl, Dealer in ^tne groceries anb Hottons e4*_4Jorfc Street. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. YOHN BROS. Agents for the Keystone State, Waldo, Washburn, Groupner & Meyer. Highest Grade Mandolins, Guitars, Banjos, Mandollas and Mandocellos. Headquarters for Phonographs, Graphophones and supplies. Trimmings of every description. All sheet music one-half off. Large discounts on Books and studies. 326 Market St., Harrisburg, Pa. I FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. I Baseball sSapplies, .Spalofng's Xeaguc Jfiall, /kits, flbaefte, Etc. Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for Cennte, Oolf, Grlcftet, ttracft ano ffielo, ©Btnnasium Equipments ano ©utfite Complete Catalogue Spring and Summer Sports Free. The Name the Guar-antee." a. ©. SpalOing & JBroe. New York .•. Philadelphia '." Chicago ROWE. YOUR GROCER Carries Full Line of Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEGE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, **Druggists Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J- Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. CULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER. 19 S. NINTH ST., PHILADELPHIA. PA. SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pius, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered through C. H. Tilp. Gotrell Leonardi 472-474 Broadway, Albany, N. Y. /lakers of CAPS, QOWNSand. HOODS To the leading American Colleges. Illus-trated Manual, etc., upon application. Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS Of SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. You can't expect to create the im-pression that you are well dressed unless your clothes are MADE FOR YOU. Equivocate as you may, the fact remains that ready-made garments lack that air of exclusiveness which custom work possesses. J. O. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg-, Pa. G. E. SPANGLER, Dealer in Pianos, Organs, Music, Musical Instsuments, Strings, Etc. YORK STREET, 1ST SQUARE. GETTYSBURG. L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. 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Issue 3.5 of the Review for Religious, 1944. ; Review :for Religious SEPTEMBI~R 15, 1944 Forestalling Pains of Purgatory . Clarence McAu]|ffe. A#ostolate of the Cross . Robert S. Bten ¯ Sanity and Sa ,nctity . G. Augu, sfine Ellard ~Bur~s~r General of Religious Institute . Adam C. Ellis. ~ Are You Sbrry for Your Sins? . Gerald Kelly~ I~ooks Receiged Communlca÷ions Questions Answered~ D~ci~ions of the Hbly See NUMBER-5 " REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ VOI£.UME III ;EPTEMBER 15, 1944 NUMBER CONTENTS FORESTALLING THE PAINS OF PURGATORY-- Clarence McAulit~e, S. 3 .-. ~. 289 BOOKS RECEIVED ',. " 296 THE APOSTOLATE OF THE CROSS Robert B. Eiten, S.J. 297 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY S~E OF INTEREST TO RELIGIDUS366 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 306 SANITY AND SANCTITY--G. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 307 BOOKLETS ON VOCATIONS . 325 COMMUNICATIONS (On Retreats) . , . 326- THE'. BURSAR GENERAL OF A RELIGIOUS INSTITUTEm Ndam C. Ellis, S.J . 329 , ARE YOU SORRY FOR,,YOUR SINS? Gerald Kelly, S.3 ~.3.3.5. BOOKLETS . 348 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.)-- St. Dominic and His Work: Father Tim; The General Who Rebuilt the Jesuits; My Father's Will; A Key to Happiness; The Eternal Priesthood; An ~Introduction to Philosophy; JummariUm Theologiae Moralis ~. 349 QUESTIONS AND ANSW'ERSm 30. Entrance into Novitiate after lapse from Faith .". 357 31. Meaning of "Patrimony" . . 357 32. Excommunicated Persons and Sunday Mass . 35~ 33. Asking Pardon after an Offense . 359' *" 34. Quality of Benediction Candles . 360 35. Position of Candles and Flowers on Altar . 360~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1944. Vol. III, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.3., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kel!y, S.3. Copy?ight~ 1944, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotation.s of reas, onable length,: provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U.S.A. Before writing ,to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. '-~i'~Y GIVING the rock a double strike in order to'prodh(e, v;'ater for the Israelites._'(Numbers 20:11, !2), Moses '~ ~oPAINS OF PURG.~TORY "~" :~. .~, "~Granted these cioOnn d.i.t S, .how~ can e levee ,lm " un- -t~.in21of ~emporaLlSunishment thai: ~asts ,its shado.w upon.,, our lives? First of all, by indulgences. These favors granted ~-" by~.~he-Church aim directly at'the deletion of temporMpuia ishment. A ~in~le ple.nary in.d, ulgence, gained by one who . has,had all his venial sins forgiven, annihilates ,at once eirery ~.-, l~it'of this punishment, r~gar~lless of the ~iumber or grav{ty "of his past offenses. As ~as-pointed out by, Father-Thomas A."~O'.Connbi; ~S.J:, in this RI~VIEW (November, 1942,. ":PP" 3-82~389)~dvery religious ~and priest may: easily gain five such plenary in~dulgen~es every day, ~6qcever, even ~if we n~eglect these opportunities, we. 'very likely ~gain~,~ucfi ~pl~nary indu~.gences perio~dically during the year, for in-~ stance, a~ yhe. c0nclusion.0f our annual retreat and, during .the, Forty Hours. If some past venial sin still lingers on o~r soul so ~;that the. plenary indulgence cannot produce its full eit'ect~, it nevertheless remits a part o,f our t~mporal punish-ment. . Besides plenary indulgences, all of us gain many paifial one~; especi~alfy by~ use. of aspiratiofis. These. accord.i.ng to ;their-designated value may i~emove hs mu~h temporal p.u~n-i~ shrrient as was taken away by fifty dr a hundred or five "hundred days of rigorous canonical pen.ance in the early ChurcH'.° When we reflect h6w, severethese penances:w~ere,. ' W~ must admitthat an indulgence, even of fifty days, must :' make,deVastating inroads on our sinful debt. But indulgences are not the. only-means~at our disposal. t~v~ry _fime.~ tha~t'we approach "the Sacrament'of Pen ask .God., fo~? many other ~pirittial bles,~ings: in i]Sra.y~ers. In the same+ way we may ask this fiivor+and it ;will be'granted. -- ~Finally, we should remember that ~ome other living d> person may be offering satisfaction for us'and so b~ reducing ~" our t~emporal punishment. I~ is impossible, of course; for_. Other p~ople t6 apply their indulgences for us. It is also impossible, for them to transfer to Us the au~om~tic.r~emoval .of tempora! punishment proceeding from their assistance at ~Ma~ss; their;reception of the Sacraments of Penanc.e, and Of Extreme Unction.~ But they may give us the satisfactory ~ 'valge _of their unsough'~ suffe_ring~, of" their "prayers, fasting; almsde~ds and Other Works of piety,", and of all theit other good a~tions,of each day~ We on our part can ~\i-'~e~r~Srm.an act of charity by surrendering the Value ~f so.me of Our own satisfactory works for the °benefit of others.~" " Faced by such an array Of evidence,_, we must co~ncludi~- Ythat.it is quite possible for any ~onsdcrated' .person to die ¯ with all .temporal punish~ment for past' forgiven sins removed. ' In fadt~, it is highlyprobable that many religious' ~do ~o die. It is even likely, that many religious contribute generously-to the~ spiritual treasury of the Church by ~ acquiring much 'more expiatory wealth thin they them: o selves need. These thoughts should non-induce;any remiss-ne~ ss on ou~r-part in ou'r efforts, to gain such wealth, since we do nbt know precisely the size of our sinful.debt. In addi-~ ~. tion, every one of the satisfactory works mentioried also has a-nieritorious aspect, s~o that their perfo~rmance necks_-." sar~ily results-in a greater degree of glory in heaven. Ma,y we then say that rn'ost~ consecrated .persons nearer dday in purgatory at all? Not necessarily. The ~videhce~. ,adduced in this article sirhp!y indicates that Such persons; ;~can escape purgatory.as far as their temp.oral debt for past -~ _ 295 CLARENCE MC ULIFFE °~ ~ forgiven iins is conc~rned~ -But.pu'rgatory. may;open.its doors on ariother score. We may. have on our souls a~ i:leath;~ .many venial sins. ~hat have never been-forgivdn. Sii~cetheir ~uilt yet remain's, tiaeir temporabtSuni'shment will havei6 be,undergone in purgatory,, because temporal punishment may.never be, ex.piated previous to the remission of guilt. N~vertheless, solid evidence could be adduced to prove that ~religious can die° with every t~ace, of sinffil guilt rembved so. that they would enter with6ut any delay into the of heaven. ¯Book~ Received (From dune ZO to August~ 20) B. HERDER BOOK CO. St. LoUis. T~d Philosopht, l of-St. Thomas Aquinas. By Hans Meyer. T~anslated ~b th~ Reverend Frederic Eckhoff. $5.00. The Ascetical Life. ~By the R~,erefid ~ Pascal P. Parents, S.T.D., Ph. D., J.C.B. $2.50. The ,8ouls. By the Reverend Wendelin Meyer. O.F.M. ~nd Others. Translated~by ~he Reverend Andrew Green. O.S.B. $3.00. =Deaconship: Conferences~. on ihe, Rite o~ Ordination. By the Reverend Aloysius Biskupek, S.V.D. $°2.50. Molders of the Medieval Mind: The Influence of the Fathers of the Church ~on the Medieval Schoolmen. By the Reverend Frank P. Cassidy, Ph.D. $2.00., THE- BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee. ¯ A ~,Vorld to Reconstruct:-Plus XII on Peace and Reconstruction. By Guido Gbnella. Translated-by the Reverend T. 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" . , 296 " " heApos :o!h e of Cross Robert B. Eiten, S.J. C~UFFERIN~'andthe cross are bard for all of us. ~ pine u~nder their weight. ~vre are constantly forced to seek ne~w and striking motives for bearing them. ~t : one ,time perhaps the motive of self-preservation or , " "keeping spiritually-fit" made a ~trong appeal t0~us. Agair~ ~we might have turned our eyes to the p?~st and" seen -° ~p.~rso.nal.siffs.~ Right order demanded that these sins. be ~-~ expiated; hence the motive of expiation for our person.ai mental,health is a matter 0f~'developi.ng rational habit~. o- Given~sani_ty and grace, spiritual perfection depe.nds upon '- ~-buiiding up supernatural habits. ,° -. ¯ Analgsi~ of the Irrational Of both'health of mind and ascetical perfection the dbadly enemy is unreason, or better, irrational emotion. .What St. Augustine writes of sin is true ,also of every ,unsound habit. "It is not wrong to say thaLevery sin i's a falsehood. For eve.ry sin is commited only.with the inten- ~ fion that it sh6uld-be well'with us, or that it Should not be evil with ~s. Therefore there is the falsehood that, although . so.methingfis" done that it may b~e well -g-ith us, it is ~hence , really rather evil with us, or that, although something is done that it m~iy be better with us, it is thence ~eally rather worse with u.s" (De CiuitateDe/. xIV, 4).ludas's experi-ence, partkularly his disappointment with the thirty p.iedei -6f silver;, is a good illustration. Accordingly, in "every unwholesome habit, as well as in every sin, there is a cer-" taih sel~-contradiction', ~elf-deception, and self-frustra'tio~. One seeks satisfaction and gets d~ssatisfaction, or at least if /he doesget a certain satisfaction, he also. suffers a greater ~ dissatisfaction. He looks for the truth and finds an. untruth : he'inten~ls good and brings evil upon himself: 'What :is fals~ can be accepted only under the guise bf truth, andevil . .-can-be willed 0nly under the fallacious appearance .of g_oo.d. Bgth in unhe~ilthy and in sinful habits two esi~ntial ,,.elements are discernible: a false judgment,, giving diiec.tibn, and an emotional force, fundamentally go_od., but mis-directed, an_d" moving to action: If there were no erroneous judgment, one would b~ acting ~in accordance ~with trfith ~nd goodness, and hei~ce rightly. If there were no emotion, there would not be any action at all. It is as if a business::" 309 man invested money to make a profit and sustained aloss~_ or astir a sick man meant to t~ke a medicine and ~drank a~ poison. .Thus the scrupulous man seeks to please God anff by his irrational behavior does what is objdctively dis-: pleasing to Him,~ of~he strives.to make his salutation mdfe' secure and~ at the, same time by-his wrongheadedness really' renders it less certain, or he tries to fulfill the tiniest jot and -~tittle, of tl~e.l"aw and violates the fundamenfal principle~o~f la~ that one should 15e sane and rational. Mor~eover, in both~ the psychical and ethi~a,1, spheres it is mogtly t~he same-emotional forces that ~ause'the trouble: namely, the ego-instinct orpride, the sexual urge, fear, and sadness.° "- ~ _. Fivg Wags of~ Meeting Problems Functional psychic- disorders commonly originate conflict with 0some.~u._nplea~sant reality Which frustrates' br .threatens tO frustrate_~one in s6me way. There are eraL possibilities. "Some m~ke the right and in ouk,case; it would b~e the ~religious Yeaction: they face the ,facts -squarely, . see what is to be doneabout them, and then d0it promptly and courageously. Other are not so happy. Some "take to flight. A soldier who is afraid to. fight and also to °admit it, conveniently becomes blind or paralyzed, and is excused; thus he saves both himself and the respett in which. he is held by himself and others. Another man withdrav~s into a dream-w0rld of his own creation. A third over-" ~whelms himself with external distractions: A third group ~ of people [ightltheir dit~iculty, but not in the normal way. ¯ , A man who is overtimid before other men, intimidates a~d browbeats his family, and~thus compensates. An indication . of this t~endency in human nature is observable in the fact that oftentimes the ,less one's authority, the greater.~.the show. that one makes of it. ~A'ma;a who is fearful of his ° ability to rCsist the attractions of women, may. carefully 310 ~ September)' 1944 ~ ~" , ,~ .9 ,SANITY AND SANCTITY -cultivate a dislil~e and ~ontempt for ~ll the fairer h~lf"of the "~hUman r~c~e, and never miss a chance to disparage them. A ~po~ential drunkard may become a rabid teetotalist.'- wh~o tAri efso utor tshe rcvlea stsw oof m paesrtseorns,s c, olrinkper othmeis em wain.~ ihnt htehier ~G doisffpie:l .~ulty. -An ambitious young priest sets out t~make. tinguished career for himself;~dne~that is rather high for limitations. ° Gradually he yields before great flifficulfies. But he doe.s.not give up hi'aim nor,the ~atisfaction that the - thbught of it brings. He concentrates attention ~on all the \~obst~iCii~s in his way, exaggerates them, perhaps adds a few. ~'of his own niaking; and finally reaches the c6mf6rting~ on-clusion that, alth6ugh now he cannot.reach that goal arid thus show his worth, still, if it were not for all those unfor-ti~ nate circumstances, he could have distinguishdd himself. His s~If-'safisfaction~, is saved. The fifth group simply ~ive up in defeat. Then they may fret ii~way t~heir lives in worry 6r anxiety or sink into the dark depths 'of melan- _~choly and despair.- ' The Influence of Habits With organic psychoses and neuroses, that~is, major and minor mental diseases due, foi instance, to an injured '~.o~'dition of the brain, we are 'not at all concerned in. this ilrticle. Functional psychoses and neuroses have rio demonstrable organic basis. It seems to,~be ciuite" true--all .preventive measures and hopes rest largely upon-this pr, em- ~i~e.--A-~tha~ many persons who have c_ontracted these f.unc-tion~ al disorders could have avoided them if they had intelli . gentler and earnestly disciplined their habits.of thinkihg ~ and f~dling, or, in other words, if they had striven to see and e~valuate'things as they_ are and to modem.te their emotiofis accordingly. But they did not; ;ind the cumulative~effect of .lon~-continued carelessness and drifting leaves~ them m_ore "~ -~3. AUGUSTIN~ ELLARD* -or Iess d~ranged. Reoieu) for~Reli~iqus.; There is nobody .who_ is pe)fectly :n6r- , mal, th~ abnormals being like the rest of us, only mor~ So. ¯ Every_one ha~ some habit or. 6ther which he wou~Id, do wel, I to coriect, both for the health of "' his soul. "No excellent soulis exempt from some admix-f~ lure of madness" (Aristotle). It is with these habits that ~-tBis article is ~oncerned, not with those of persons who are. ~ _ al_ready neurotics or woi~se. Extroversisn anal Introversion Before we discuss'particular l~abits,it may be well:oto °notice two general tendencies of attenti0.n and interest, which, if carried too" far, can become very harmful both to personality and to-the spiritual life, namely, extroversion :and introversion. Extroversion, an inclination:to occup~,, "~neself with what is outside of oneself, may lead to ignor ance of self, thoughtlessness, shallowness of character,: and ~a n~glect of all the greate'r and better things. It is naturally apt to end in that excessive giving of oneself to externals which is a'special failing of ma.ny m6dern religious priests and-is so 6ften #ep~)ecated now by ascetical writers. It is contrary i_n tendency to all-that the interior fire'implies. .RecolleCtion would be reduced to a .point approaching zero. Turning to external things is a favorite means of esc.ape frbm the unRleasantn~ss of living with ~3ne's own imperfedt self and from the goadings of grace when on~ is not on the~ best of speaking terms with God. A~y"religious who is so Vehemently and incessantly busy talking o~ working exter-~- nally°tbat he can hardly think of anything else, would "illustrate v(rhat is meant by the extroverted pers6nality. Extreme extroversion as seen in certain demented persons is often termeffa "flight into reality.-" Introversion, a propensity to keep the ~nind turned - inwa'rd upon itself,-involves the dangers c;f-morbid intro 3 12 ~ ~sp~cfion and0f ge~fing to0 far away from-~rhe "real wo~ld.1 ::Th~ Jn~rover~ may be¢6me ~bsorbed or even lost Jn ~labyrJn~h 0f ~is ow~ ~hou~h~s, fe~1~ngs,. ~nd fa~cJ~s. ~He ~s more apt ~o be brooding, m~dy, and anx~0us: Morally, " be ~S ~n grea~er danger ~f being too self-centered, a~d of'all. ~e.evts ~ha~ go wi~h ~ha~ m~d~fion. He ~ends ~o become unfi~ m l~ve ahd, work w~h o~hers. ~he worst form Jn~r6v~rsJon Js exemplified by ~ose pafiems Jn asylums ;~o~ completely w~dr~w Jn mind from all external reM~ Jry. The Jn~e~rare~ person, ~nd ~be good relJ~Jou~ will Cs~ve r~ S~rJke a ha~py balance ~b~ween extroversion and Unwholesome Intellectual Habits '. ~Am~ng particular bad habits that-call for. discipline, as the psychologi~ would say, or for m0rt~cation, to u£i ~. the ascetical term, the ~oll0wing may. be instanLedf Those . ]in_which self-deception seems more prominent ,will be con 3jdered first, and then those in which the emotional element " has a certain predominance, Of the many ways described ]-by psychoJogist~ in wIich'people deceive, themselves, these'-- ~-~ five seem to be the most significant for our pu~ose. , ~ ~ -: Since sanity consists in contact with reality, it is evident" , thht:~vasion of unpleasant tr~ths is, no part of it.- A certain .amofint of evasion is Vffy.-comm0n'and ~ithin th£.timits of . "the normal. But it.tends to grow from bad to worse,.?nd hence it is excellent material ~or disciplih~ or mortifica[ion. ._. ThoSe who evade disagreeable truths are the persons whgm - ~e hear likened to ostriches hidin~ their heads in the sand~ . .:Simply ~urnin~ away may bring relief for a time;, but :may also ha~ten disaster, ._ . " One may dissimulate or suppress the truth of a dis-tressing fact inone's situation or condition. Fo~ instahee, a man is told by his.physiLian.that his blood-~r£ssure is -=313 Gi AU.~3USTINE ELLAR~. ~ . . o Reaiew t:or Reiigi6us" gettifig. too',high. In.stead'~of a~ep'ting th~ diagnosis an~ r~gulating his life according!y:, ~he thi'nks as little-as pbssi-ble .of the matterYand acts all the more strenuously as if in an efforl~ td prove to hi'self ahd to others that there is nothin°g~ ,wrong with him, and. least of all; high blood-pressure. Similarly, a devout .man is wa~ned by his confessor, pos-sibly by a succession of confessors, that he is s~rupulous." ~.Not only does he not ac,quiesce, but he goes on to do all thSt he can to convince himself and his confessor that he is noi~ scrupulous. If he fail~with one, he pro.ceeds to anoth4r. And meanwhile he is.getici~g farther and fa~the} awffy from reason and religion. . - -~ , . Sometimes people dissemble to themselves the fhct that~ great obstaclds stand in their way. Before they meet them, - they dc~ r~ot lose their courage, but neither do ~they take~ the necessary steps to cope; with them. Thi~y seem to think-that ~ by shfftting their eyes to tlSem, minimizing them~ or, as .it were. laughing them .off, they will-somehow overcome= them.Lady Luck may take care of them. A pious rnan~- -might. say "Providence!' will do it.Sr. X's difficulty is a -qUick and Sharp tongue. Instead.of considerin, g her prob-lem., understanding it, arid seeing what is to be "done about it~ she givesherself up to a va~ue hope that somehow'God's "grace ~vill solve, it, and thinks: no more about it. There~a-re others who manage, to blind l~hemsel¢c~s ~to their Failures-or at least to acknowledge them to thee least-p6ssible extent. "D6n't worry abgut spilt milk." ~ommon and idjurious mode of evading the.truih about. ¯ ,one s deficiencies is to blame .other persons or unfavorable circumstances for them. They are like the football fans-who gladly take all the credit for victory when t~ir team wins, arid who, whenever~& loses, have a multitude- of~ excuses and explanations, ";without, - however, ever gi~ing credit to the other'side forsimply being superior. A teacher 314 Septer~Ber, 1944° ~- "- .SANITY. AND SANCTITY "whose w0'rk is n.bt,tip the-the mark m~y explain~i~- all by refe~rring to the poor qUali(y of the class,~interferences fro~ the principal, un.satisfactory textbooks, a noisydassroom, and so 6n--anything; in fact, except personal deficiencies. - Akin to evading unpleasant truths is-the d~d~lin~.l ?esponsibilitie~. When a man frankly, that is, without_ ielf-deception, refuses to do whavhe knows he ought, to do~ t.he fault is moral. When the mind is so deranged, that therb is no lor~'ger an.y moral imputability and one,shirks~a the fault is merely psychic. .In between these two extremes there ar~ infinite gradations-and combinations of both moraband psychi~ failures, 6f illusions arid bad will. of the corrimonest means of escaping a disagreeable dUSty ._ .and of avoiding embarrassment at the same tinie is to develop, more or less-unconsciously, Or to ~magnify~ a-~'- physicid disability of somekind. No doubt every-ieligious superior"who ,has had much.experience, knows of subjects ~who shirked disagreeable obligations or assignments on the ,plea.of illness or incapacitati_on'that was psychic ratherthan physical. Recourse t6 prayersometimes appears to,be an. example Of dodging, a practical i~sue. Sr. Y comes t6 rea~lize tha~. fhere is a considerable degree of disobedience in-her life. She recalls tl~e magnificent promises of results to those-who pray. Then, instead of clearly formulating to her~ self-what is wrong, what She should do abou~ it, why. she ~boul.d do it, and _by what means, she plans a novena, to :St: 3oseph, so m~any Memorare~s to ~he Blessed Virgin, ~ _such and such prayers to,the Little Flower, and so on. Thus she distracts herself from what she ought- to do. hdrself~ P~ously and comfortab_ly she goes on; so.does the disobedi-ence, !ess piously, but comfortably.- , Rationalization is the proce.ss of making action_that :is unreasonable seem reasonable. PrObably it is thecommon-est- of all the mental distortions pointed out in these pages.- 3.15 G. A~2.G'USTINE ELI~ARD -~Retyiew,[or Religious There is hardly a humah being who d~es not resort to it at times aiad in some measure. Vdry.powerful and ~ersistenk urges impel, us todo thirigs that are r~ot quite right, and at the same time twist our thinking just sufficiently~toenabl~ u~ to feel more or l~ss justified in doing them. On the one hand, those impulses are extremely:strohg, and on the oth.er, we ekperience a certain necessity of being,,or at least -of, appearing to be, rational/both in our own eyes and~.~ .espec.ially in the.estimation of Others. Rationalization su~-~ plies the way out of the difficulty. '~The"rationalizer dab- 6rates- convenient and reassuring, deceigtions,° for himseli~, and Often. alsd deludes-himself into believing that other~' do not see throtigh his fiction. Extreme forms of rationaliza~- -tion are found in. the insane.Rationalization is probably exemplified every day in ev~ery religi6us house. It is the favorite meahs of-taking the edge off the exacting principles of asceticism and the int~rnvenient obligations' 6f the rules,. -and~of making life under them more agreeable. ). One of the worst forms of flight from reality-is day-~ . drearning.~ - It octurs in all degree~ from that which is nor-mal. to that of the utterly insane. It is especially liable to develop "in persons who are inclined 'to remain shut:in within them.sel, ves, whose surrou;adings are dist~ressin_g, and .who have lively-imaginations. If. things are painful "~Well, at least," one may say, "I. can create a world 6f my own where there will be some sort of satisfaction for me. In" fa~t, there, in fancy, ! can have any pleasure that.I Wish." As daydreaming grows.,-it takes one further and furthe~ from real life : hence, its evil aridHanger. Idle reverie in a r~ligious is at best just so miach energy, a;ad, time diverted from his own sanctification and tlse accompffshment of the task ~ assigned to him by God~- M6rtifying the" propensity° to,it would contribute to integration of personality, .to greater holiness, and to haore, efficient usefulness to others. 316 "Septembir~,',1944 - " ~ - - SAIqlTY AND sANcTIT-Y ' A, marked tendency.to, suspiciodsness is- not,a'good stgn. df rob~st~and depe_ndablehealth of mind~ .it'involves~:fte,°o q{aerit~ deceptions of self, engenders e'ver'y sort of dhrk.affd blister fe£1ing, and lessens ol{e's fitfiess to live and work w.i~th -~others. In a religious,, suspiciousness 0fsuperiots can gb so far a~ to become positively pathological. There are religious who easily ,develop a martyr- omp'lex. Brother X, a man of v~ry good ~will but poor 'judgment, has often had to be corrected bj~ his shpefio~s. He is fully conscious of his good faith. After~a tim~, he notices that although behas beentrying very earnestly.to°~ d9 the right thing, he has-ndt met with approbation and "_erfcouragement, but rather, as i~ seemed, j~st the contrary. He ~recalls. that God often allows His l~est servants to b~. persecuted. Finally,. he concludes that be'must be-in that class. ,From then on every unpleasantness met in his rela- - tions~with, others and particularly every admonition given~ by superiors is'interpreted'.as one m6re indication that he is beingperse~uted and thathe_ must.be a ,great°favorite-wi~h 'Heaven.~ . Wha'tever i~ done ~o make him see~the light ts taken to be so much more molesfation. ' Another bad habit of mind is found in many people ~. ~ who, are b0tl~ered, with irisistent,, umvelyome, .thoughts. Some of the best igeople are distressed in this way with the~ ~orst thoughts: - Ideas of the most repuls~v.e:nature force-fully~ obtrude themselves into'.the mind, even at the most-sacredo- mom(nts or places. They are utterly out 'of keeping~ ~Twith the character of the person whom they aftlict, and are felt, as if by some external force, to be imposed upon one "-._ They are not ordinary temptations, hnd should" not ~be ~resis~ed as ifthey were n~tural movements of resentment:o'r. o~ncupis~enc.e: Fear and autosuggestion may be factors in b.ringing;them ~ibout. .Recognizing them for what they~ are, avoiding fear of the~, ignoring~them, andan effort tO 3i7 .~- ~. o ~-" --. ~ ~. ~ L~",,~- ~.~ '~ o ~t ~AUGUSTINE ELLARD~ ~ , "~ ~, R~ie~ for'R~ligious remain indiff~)rent ~toward them ¯while preserving ~;ne's, self- 'possession, a~e more effective, o_ -~_~ Unwholesome Emotional Habits The se'cond, and perhaps the more'important,-eleme~t in every,irrational, and also every irreligioud, reactign,., is ~affective or emotional. It is this that adds power, some-times compell'ing pdwer, to them, and leads to action. Cer- ¯rain cases, out- of many, will be indicated in the f611owing ' paragraphs ~ Nowadays we.are always hearing about int:eriori't~t [eelings.,and their injurious consequences. Obviously, sense o]~ inferiorityis humil!ating and.embarrass!ng: B~- sides, when not-well borne, it begets depression, fearful-ness, discouragement, and a disinclination to exert orieself. --So may fal~e humility, tn these dispirited states of soul. some people~ m.ay stick: But others undertake io do some-" o rising about it, though they are not in the.best condition-t0 judge what should be done,, and then dissatisfaction with ~ "- one's !nferiority and the desire to.be rid of i~ or even to-secure a certain, elevatidn over othe_rs, may lead to a great ~. garie.ty ofpersonality.fa9lts. ~These efforts may be of two general kinds: disguise or compensation. ~ Attempts. to con-ceal ohe's inadequacy .involve; falsity ~and duplicity, not 0co, nducive to the unity thatcharacterizes an integratedper-son. If they be kept up for long,.they may ,bring about~ stra!n and unnataumrOacl~ a.h.t.y. Moreo~'er, the cha_nces.are' that-they~ v~ill be °unsuccessful, and ~leave the~hypoc.rit~2 feeling more inferior than ever. Unsound.forms of comp~fi sation that occur are, for example, exaggerated aggressive- -.ness, fan~aticism, blustering, excessive reforming ze.al: unrea~0n~ble c.ritic~ism Sf others, extremes of conduct, d~: ~" matism, rigorism, tyrannical domination, and a hos~ - 31'8 September, 194'~I~ ~" ~ " " " SANITY,ANI~ SANCTITY A~sense of .l~ssene~d worth neednot,.bemJ.U. rzoys" ' . ~' to one's pers0n~lity. Of all p~ople?the Saints felt thifir worthless- -. ness~'most keenl~ and acknowledged it most Openly. CerZ tainly some of them r~garded themselves as-the wo]:st of all fiu~an beings. But their ge~nuine, not false, humility, t.oge.th'er :with other virtues which balanced and Suppl"e- ~mented it, was an antidote that prevented them fr0m~ °requiring a psych, iatrist~s attention; in fact,~it-became one of[the foremost reasons for their superior exci~llence.- The "healtlSy-minded and sensible man will take himself as he is,. , acknowledge 14is,,limitations, and,,intelliger{tly and courdge- 0usly make the mo~t of his potentialitie,s. He will not 6v~errate himself and thus. deceive himself, nor b~y. futile at~empt~ to rise higher, render himself_, still more inferior than he. really is. True Christian humility, accompanied l~.y~ confidence in-God and magnanimity, is the sovereign remedy fgr a depressing sense of inferiority, Sex is. also a most fertile hotbed of psychic and moral troubles.° Here especially the right ideas and the right attiv ifudes of will are of supreme importance for those Who would advance in sanity.and sanctity. If one's views are too broad, the'moral life ~it least will suffer, and the mental "may. If they are too narrow, too puritanical, the tumul-tuous currenl~'of"sexual, impulse may demolish the :dikes unnafurally restraining it and wreck everything~ As Horace remarked long,ago, you may.chasenature out with a fork, , ut it v~ill alwa.ys return. This is true in a special way of/ sexu~il~nature. If it is unnecessarily repiessed, sooner or -,later it ~ill emerge again, perhaps in a ,disguised,,and mor-bid form. and with.increased .~violence. Too mueh repres- 1. s~on:would involve the danger of making one a neurotic,. and then What about his chastity?~. Temptations would be multiplied and at the same time one would have less than the normal ability to cope with them. - 31~9 G: AUGUSTINE-EI~LARD - " ° ? R'e~ieW ~o~ Religious The right ~iew of se~ di+ine view of it. It would not .regard ~ everything aboat se~ as bad and ugly. Nor would it ,be-too negative. the contrary,, it would-look upon sex as an integral element in human nature and a divine+creation, and as such, g~od:'. . In the practice of cha+~ity, whether conjugal or celibate, a person would seek, by the e~pression.oP all that is noblest . in him rather than by repression,-to achieve the pbsitive +purpoSes of the law, to develop and perfect one'elf, to beg~t offspring, whether ih the literal, or .the m~taphoric~ ~ense, and to increase o e s love for Him who~ is qnfinite -loveliness and beauty. The.-sexUal instinct, whichr as?a matter of fact, is so destructive to divine love[ can-and~3 ~hould' be integrated with it, ~nd become a most .~o~n~ ~promoter of it. Lack of su~cient instruction can haye tragical" ~onse~ quences. These days there seems to be need of much information in such matters than in the good old Victo~ian~- d£ys, especiall7 from books or the spoken word, The amount that one -should.have will depend upon individual needs find the hature of one's work. Suppression of the desire todearn wfiat one ought to know[-or legitimately might well know would seem to be a good example of the kind of.ihe sup--~ " ~ression that is injurious; beside~;,it .would be a persistent source bf. unnecessary temptations, .anxiety, and strain. Instruction shoul~ extend b6th to the facts and.to one',s obligations. The minor mental disease of scrupulo~F~,~ often thrives on sex-ual ground: .-,_ .An exaggerated conception or ideal tity may mislead .some. Properly-speakifig, the highe~ .chaptiF~ that-is possible for us is-human,, such as, for example, is exemplified in ChriSt or the Blessed ~irgi~ Even they, since they did not experience temptations, can- 320+ ~not be~prox~ma~e mo~ls ~n thi~ ~espect. But'marly of t~e ~rg~n and confesso~ saints went through furious and pro- ~ 1onge~ sie~es ef temptation w~th an inviolate lustre of purity. -~here is mhch in the ~h~story of religion ~and mys- .[~cism to confirm the saying of.~ascal t~at one who unin-telligently seeks to become an angel becomes~a beast. After self-assertiveness and sexuality, f~ar seems to be the most deleterious emotion. ~ople whose personality is ~ore or less maladjusted b~ reason of~fear or anxiety are very numerous. One manifestatio~ ~f it t~at we can con~ s~der briefly is Scrupuios~ty. ~A full treatmenL~how~Ver, of this Specifically religious ~ental malady is quite impossible~ here. Profane analogues of scrupulosity are seen in per-sons who can hardly assure themselves su~ciently that they have, ~or instance, turned off_the gas, or locked the door; or written an address cor[ectly. In a scruple, that is, an irra- ~tiofial fear of sin, the emotional' factor, anxiety, seems to ,be'mu~h more important than the error of judgment. ~hiS~ can be ~emoved efisily by-instruction,~but the anxiety is stili ~here, and not so easily expelled. The first and most e~ca-cious rule for the scrupulous is, according to all huthorities~ to seek competent direction and tO follow it most exactly, ~' li.ke a docile patieht obeying the doctor's prescriptions. - If ~ this is done, the fear will Vanish, or at least gradually a~fophy. Additional means of dispelling it are: not to yield to it by actin~:tq obtain greater security, heartily t~ 59cept the assurances gixen by one's director, .to consider his-judgment safer than ofie's ~wn .disordered fancy, to duiti-vate insight~ into the groundless~es~ of one's apprehen-~ sions, to proceed ~irectl# to do what is feared, to notice that it does not hurt other people, to be careful, not to n~glec~ one's .real obligations, like the Pharisees who strained gnats and swallowed camels, and. finally to ~develop that filial trust and confidence in God which He desires. Cultiva,tinig . ~3,21 G. ~AUGUSTINE,ELL.~.RD, ~ ° ~ " ,~ Revietoffor; Religi6u~ ~ a sense~of-humor nd.the abit of seeing the ridiculdusness- Of one's'sc.rupulous fear is also.an effectiVe remedy. - - A neurbsis that is not Unknown in religious communi-tiesis h.qpgchondriasis, tha( is, a morbid anxiey about~ one'S h(alth. The patient, is perpetually thinking hboul~ it, -noticing.and magnifying in imagination all possible~symp-toms, anticipating_the worst, seeking and using remedies ~alLsorts, watching for their effects, ~comparing his condition today with yesterday, and so on. Meanwhile he is really-making himself.sick, or :aggrav.ating any reaFailments that he. ma~y have. He could cure himse.lf, of his unhealtl~y~ worry if he would follow a course like that recommended o for the scrupulous: or if he would concentrate'on the major, things in life, espe.cially in the spiritual' life. Distracting work-would bep~irficularly good for him.' If he Were more.~ solicitousabout his mental and spiritual well-beiiig, his "health of b~dy would take care of Jtself. " ¯Depression ¯ --Another emot~bn that iblays havoc with the minds an~ :.~ :souls qf-many i~ "sadness. It~ran~es all the way frog"slight ¯ and ~ransi~nt low. . spirits in nbrmal person.so to a leffdi~ag "symptom in some of,~the psychoses. When. due to physi~a!: -conditions that cannot-be remedied, it-should be bo/ne. patiently, like the re~t of'one's cross. Insight into i~ho~e °causes will help to relieve it, and'for the rest, of all people_ the good religious has the least reason for being depressed.~ ¯He should kriow a~d realize tha(God's wh91e plan.for him, ~hough it does'contain 'suffering, is from beginning ~to end_ - ,~ d.esign for'peace and ineffable beatitude. ""W~ know that -o-forthem that love God he worke~h a.ll things toge}her unto, : g0b,d" (Romans 8:28). .find it enlightening and -322 Some depressed religious might encouraging to: read a ~chapter September, 1944 SANITY AND SANCTITY "_"eXplaining St. Teresa~;s ,psychiatry of. melancholy i~ l~er- Foundations (chapter VII). Ps~lchotherap~l o " -- To cure an unwholesome habit (people who have developed neuroses are referred tb the psychiatrists), three .general methods are available: psychagogy, analysis and synthesis, and a combination of both. Ps~tch.agog~ First, one can simply go to a competent counselor,. explain one's case. and carry out the pres~riptions~ as ,a patient does with his~physician. Besides efllight~ening,, per-suading, and using suggestion, a'~counselor can give a~ .troubled p~e~son a, good 6pportunity to talk. It is a fact that in some cases a man caff talk himself out bf a neurosis. No doubt the explanation is that thus the patient sufficiently= clarifies his own mind, gets insight, and reaches emotional" equilibrium. A, nal~/sis arid Sgntbesis Secondly, one may, preferably with the.help of a court-s~ lor, take the~ following procedures. - , . I. Inoestigation. What are;the origin and" nature of the trouble? When and where did the faulty habit begin? ¯ ~What elements in one's external situation or in one's inter; -nal condition could have given rise to it? What factors in one's experience (for example, shocks or frights) or in one's training, help to explain it? What ideas have been guidi_~l~ one?- What emotional forces have been at work? What has one been seeking orshirking? Wil~h.what results? II. Insight. If the investigation has been-successful, insight should follow,.but it may need to be deepened, broadened, and heightened bY much reflection. A maia has " '-'.insight" y~hen, say, he has an irrational notion or impulse~ 323 for ReHpiou_ s ~ _.and recognizes~it as such. W~iters on the discernment spirits would say that he i~moved by an. evil sp!rit, ,hUman of diabol, ical, and realizes that fact. If he can understhnd~ how it came about and its nature,~ so much.the better." If the insight gained be dear and f~Ull, he will then be prepared to treat the notion or impulse as if'it were a sffggestion~ from a ocrazym~in or'a swindler. Insight can ,be suflicientfy--clehr and strong to effec't a complete cure at once: It does awa.5; with the false ideas or °illusions at least. "III. Release of Em'otional Tension. Next one must see ~and feel by all' possible considerations, and work aL it till one really does see and feel, the fol, ly, futility, and:frus-trations of what he has" been doing, and this in,contra~st to the val~uds, positive and negative, of thecontrary rati6nal ~-~,~abits. He must bring himself to realize, .for example, that he hasbeen fearing ,where. in finality there was riothing, tp fear, or desiring what really was-not desirable. Thus the perverse inclination will dissolve like ice before the hot,sun. The secorid element of the irrational, namely, misd~rectedl emotion,, i~s thus remedied. Other means of. reducing unsalutary hffectivet~nsions are i avoiding the.objecys-that~ stimulate them: eschewing thoughts of those objects; ~ expelling~a lesser fear or love by agreater fear d'r love, fear of,h!an, for instance, by- fear of God; arousing in oneself the" contrary emotiori, fbr instance, hbpe against despair; throwing oneself .int~o some absorbing.~external, action; pro-ceeding tO do what. One fears, or to-do the opposite of what, one. feelsimpelled tO.; quiet and rest. Even if a man c~n- ¯ not discover b~r analysis why he has this or that inclination, he is ~ti11 free, if his mental integrity has not been damaged too-much, not to adt on that impulse.~ The a~m is always, not to darri up'the forces of human nature, but to give ttiem wise direci:ion and .wholesome outlets. Here ratib'nal com- 'pensati~n-and:sublimation, that is,:guiding one's instinctive 324 ~ Sep~ember~'lg~ ~ ~ ~" ~, ~ . SANI~ AND SANCTITY "urges toward somethifig equally good of better, ~are emi-nently in~place. 0necould, for-example, seek" eventual ex~ftation throughhumility, ot the grat~cations of love in ~divine charity. IV. Re-educa?ion, Rd~te~ra~ion. 1. Specific }emedial habits are to be ascertained, their adavantages adequately" apprefiated, and then put into practice. A scrupulous per- :son for instance, should avail himself of what. are called ".th~ privilege~ of the ssrupulous." 2. The basic defects in the.personality-which are at the root 6f the diNculty sEould be uncdvered if possible and treated in ~ore or le~s thesame_ wag, with a ~iew to building hp that unity and fullness,; and balance which constitute intdgration of personality. In a scrupMofis)erson.the defect ~ay be a deep-seated timid- ~ To conclude, insight into one's unbalanced emotional p$opengities and control of tbem will give one sanity; a high degree 6f such insight .and~self-control will add sagac- -itE; and, if supernaturalized by graqe, it will bring sanc-" ~tity~ and thus ultimately a rich participation ~n the beat~c .~ision and love arid ~njoym~nt of God. ¯BOOKLETS ON VOCATIONS Halt! Hearken to.the C~{/ of the Children. A PamPhlet of 28 pages, by Fathers Rumble and Catty. The pamphlet was written originally by an Australian nun for Australian girls." Its purpose is ~to give an appreciation of the. work of the tegching Sisterhoods. Price: 10 cents. Write to: Radio Replies Press. St. Paul 1, Minn. "What Would You Like to Be? Aft interesting brochure explaining the-life the Marianist Pries-t, Teaching Brother, and Working Brother. Contains well-chose~ pictures and clear explanations. Write to: Rev. Father Superior, Mount -St. John. R. D. 2, Dayton 10, Ohio. ¯ The Making7 oF, a Man: A pocket-size pamphlet, explaining in general'the ~ ,-vocation'of the Mhrianist, and in,particular t_he life of the "postulate" at Maryhurst, ~ Kirkwodd, '/v~issouri. The "postulate" in this instance is not merely th~ postu~ lan.,cy which immediately precedes entrance to the novitiate, but an entire high school course for~prospecave candidates fo~ the Society of Mary. Write to: Maryhurst~ Kirkwood, Missouri. Reverend Fathers: , When I give a retreat in a hospital-convent, I decidedly do not wish to replace the chaplain H~ may need a vacation: but thai is. no reason why his work ~hould be-added ~to.the burden of the retreat~ master, who must give pe_rhaps four conferences a day, hear confes-sions, keep himself available for private con.sultation, and perform his own spiritual exercises, besides. If.the chaplain must go away just at that time, why not engage another"priest to take his place, so thht the. retreat master can restrict his attention to his own exacting work? I am w~illing to have, and even insist on having, the cgmmunity Mass in the morning and the Benediction in the evening for the retreatants. But I,wa~t nothing more of the chaplain's regular wgrk. Imagine distributing Communion to who l~no~s" how many. patients befor~ M~iss; then, :whewhardly back in the chapel with the Blessed Sacrament, being called to administ_er the last rites to'-a dying persoff~ while the community waits: then after Mass, while ~akiiag the thanksgiving, being called out in a hurry to give Extreme Unction to one who has" suddenly died in a ward; then, after a hasty breakfast, going to say the ritual prayers for the ~lying over a patient; and then rushing to the chapel to give the retreatants theif morning con~er-- ence!' Or imagine.a Sister rushing up to the table in the sanctuars; whil~ you are. giving-a~ consideration ~nd asking you to "Come. quickly; somebody is dying!" But it isn't as bad as alFthat, some may objest. , Oh, but it often is. I. ha.ve experienc~ed it. And. if it isn't, you know that it can be at any moment. A Priest , Reverend Fathers: After each of the three annual retreatS, we discuss the various, points that have been, noticed by different novices. Here are a few. We don't like to have the retrea.t master tall~ right past us to the .few.older. religious who are also on retreat. They've heard mostof it, anyway. The retreat master ought to talk so that we Who have. not passed twenty can get something out of it. .326 ¢ " " CO~UNICATIONS ._- "Let'-tl~e~,~etreat master leari~'something, about our community. "before talking on the "Holy Rule': in general arid making com~ments -on prescriptions_that aren't even in our rule. " We are poorly impressed when tile retreat master comes up the aisle.with a strong scent of perfUrfie trailing after him. He ought t~ let us see ~hat hi~ actions and bearing correspond with 'what he is telling us to do. Let him forget the affectations of speech. Even thofigh he talks ~oorly, a re-all~" good religious priest (you can see the hdliness of his life) is far better liked than an easy-going but powerful speaker. The former is a sermonin himsel£the latter is, too, but in a different way.~ We have a copy of the text of St. Ignatius' Spiritual_Exercises; too. If we want to read it, we can do so; and we do not" like to have a retreat-master me~ely read th~ text and a.dd_ practically nothing of his:own. We0never like to be read at; even .when the retreat mas-ter begins almost every conference or meditation with the words:_ "St. Ignatius next says . A little story once in a while helps .to keep things alive and nbt all fire and brirristone tales, but something practical and forceftil. ~ We're young; and we enjoy a joke .wrapped up in the conferences o now and then, But not one that is completely irrelevant. Brother Novices Reverend Fathers: The foll~wing remarks on tiae retrea~ question ~epresent th~ result ¯ o~ a question~naire.given a n.ur~ber of Sisters two years~ago: Desirable length ~of retreat: 6 full days. ~ Desirable length of conferences and medi~ations: 40-45 .minute_s. ~'uggestions for Retreat program: 1) Have four or five conferences daily. 2) Allow sufficient ti~e after dinner for a rest,-so thfit retfeat-aiats will be better able for mental exertion. ~ 3) Allow time at 11:45 for exame~. 4)'Have commun!ty prayers (espedally the Office) said p~i- ~ately, so that the retrea~ants will have more time for private reflec, tion. : 5) Begin confessions" no'later than the third day. S[zggestions concerning sequence of subject-matter: 1) Have a definite sequence, so that one conference is.a prdpa_r.a-tion for~ the next. ~ "COMMUNICATIONS " " ~ ' 2) But- do not" follow th~ Ignatiansequence so'closely tha~ one " will know exa~tly~what meditation is'to follow. ~u~gestions concerning subject-matter: -1) Give practical examples illustrating 'the ideals of re.ligious life, rather than a vague generalization. 2) Make examples positive rather than negative. 3) Center the entire retreat around a certain virtfie, such as conformity to the Wi[l of God or lo~;e of God. - 4)"A~zo[d relating personal experiences and stories of scandals in other communities. ' 5) Arrange the subject matter so that, if some I~roups are men-tioned, all will be mentioned; for example, superiors and inf.eriors, or nurses, teachers, and house-sisters. .6) Repeat a definite theme again and again d~uring the retreat. 7) Give conferences on the methods of. mental prayer and have. the meditation on prayer early in the retreat. 8) Give practic.al meditations on the love of God, emptying ~of ~lf-love, etc. 9) Stress" the Indwelling and" the Mystical Body, as means of living in uniofi with God. 10) Discuss the three ways in the Spiritual' Lif~, putting special emphasis on the unitive way. 1 1) Develop the life of Christ according to the mysteries of the rosary. ~ , Other .points: 1) Be straightforward and s'~ecific in the treadnent of the reli-' gious life. 2) Conduct the retreat in the presen'~e of the Blessed.Sacrament. 3.) Use simple and cleat, ratlSer than flowery, diction. ~) Ask of each penitent in the confessional the subject-matter:. of her particular examen, or question her on prayer. 5) "Talk" the conferences instead of~ reading them. 6) Avoid throwiffg jibes~ at women. Z) Use tile word "Sister" frequently for emphasis. 8) Put the Sister at ease in the donfessional by givilag l~er time, showing an interest in her spiritual advancement, by encouraging her in her good resolutions, etc. A Sister .~ ~ - -~ _ . _ ~ ~ ~ " ~ T~-~ ~ a Religious Insfi u e _ Adam C: Ellis, S~J.- .]:o~r al! p~ovinc~s, houses; and m~mb~rs of th~ insti-~i. . ~ tut~ (canon 502).- H~nc~ it is obvious that h~ has. authority owr th~ t~mporal affairs 0f tfi~ institut~ as wall as o#~r'spiritual and disciplinary matters. But sinc~ it imp~ssibl~ for on~ p~rson to car,-for all th~ d~tai~s of"go~-~ ¯ ernment by himself, the law-of=the Church pr~yides for 'helpers 6f various kinds-who are to assist the superior in ¯ ~hi) government of the institute. Thus canon 516 6f the Code of Canon Law provides for couficillors and bursars for~ all~)eligious superiors. The pu~ose of the present grticle is"to definet~e duties o(th~.bursar g~neral of'a r~li- ~gious institute. .- Appointmen~ "1~ ~h~.¢~nsfi~u~s nre ~ilen~ ~n ~he mnHer ~ deefin9 ~. The Code alloGs the constitutions to determine hdw the ~-.~ursar general is to be chosen. Usually the~:pro~ide forhis =election in the general chapt~. ~ It~i~ oMg whe~ the constitu-tions are.silent in the matter t~at the=superior g~neraI ~s gwen the power to appoint the bursar general with the consent.of his council. No definite term of office is laid down in_the Cod~ for. bursars~ They may" b.e reappointed-or elected again indef!-i nit~ly. Nor is'the office of bursar general incomp_atible.with. that of a general councillor as far as tile common law of the C]aurch is concerned, but to unite~ the~e offices in 6ne pe.rso11.i~ usually considered inexp_e°dien, t and is not infrequently for: - bidden by the.constitutions. .o 32.9 ADAM C. ELLIS :, ~ ': -- " Ret~iqto for Religious -_ r - Limitations of Power~ ~: ~° "They are t~ exercise .their office under fhe°d~recfion of their respec-tive superiors" (canon S 16,§ 2) but "the superior himself may net ,d!schargb. tl;e office of bu~'sar 9eneral or provincial 'bursar" (canon SI6, § 3). By forbidding the s~perlor genera) to act as bursar and by ~subjec~ ting the bursa'r general to the direction ~f.~the SUl~e- -rior, the law providhs a safeguard against maladminis~tra-tipn. " The superior must exact an. account of'hisadministra-tion froth the bursar, who cannot dispose of tempor.al-goods withoutthe permission o~ i0is superior. Nor may the sup.e: rior grant him unlimited permission. Us.ually the details of these matters ar~ determined by theconstitutions. " Constitutions sometimes provide forthe appointment oi: sev.eral administratorS: one for the general care bf the; teinpor.alities of-the ~nstitute or" province, others for . t.icular kinds of work, such as the administratiQn of pub-, lications, printing presses, and various offices. ., Whateqer the relations may be, the funds of each indi-- vidual mo'ral personality--institute, province, house "mFst be keptseparate; and are not to be heaped into 6he common% fund. Extent of Powers "Besides the superiors, those officials also who are so empowered b~ the constitb'tions can, within the limits of their office, validly incu'r expenses. "and perform juridical acts of ordinary administration" (canon 532, § 2). Normally, then, the bursar has the power to incur' expense~ and perform theoju~idical .acts of o;dinarg "admini~- ~tri~tion: ~ By ordinary administration is meant everyth'ing which p'ert.a~ns to the everyday needs of the i.nstitut_~;e~. or community. Such Would be the purchase of food, clothing,- - and fuel, the repla.cement of things worn out. or brdkeh. ordinfiry repairs on-buildings, and"the like. To.sell the~ ~superfluous products of the farm, dairy, and poultry yard,, 330 ~@ September, 1944 ; THE BURSAR GENERAL~OF,A RELIGIOUS INSTITUTE w~ould~iikewise come und~:-the head of.o'rd~fiary adminis-~[ tration. ' It,is" customary to entrust this ordinar.y administratioq~. ~ entirely~ to ,the bursar and' his )issist~nts. Hovgeve~r,~ sup~-~ -.riors retain their own powerl of juridica!,administratiOn; ~ : hffd°if they ~place any acts of such administration, these acts~ ~ ; are valid.~ ¯ , Qualities.of Good Administration '-'~'~" Canon 1523~ lays down rules for all administrators, including religious. It .Begins by telling them" that th@,° ~, should fulfill their '.office With the diligenc9 of a good, -'"paterfamilias" or head of a household, which implies two qualities: care and. prudepce. ~ It then descends ~o the ¯ ~ ~ following details: ~ -- - 1. Vigilancelest any temporal, goods spoil" or per.ish. The superior may prescribe certain defini~te ways of,pro2- ~ ~ture, andmay forbid others:, : " " " Z :'~ 2.-Observance ,o~ th.eprescriptions of bo~h ~anon and~ ' civil law: It is evident that the p.resc'r, ipt~ions of Canon Law ¯ : must,, be observed/ especially those of canon-~534," which govern the alienati6n of goods belongi.ng to religibus com-munitie~ s as .well as the incurring of debts. Th~ prescrip-hans of the civil law Sh6uld also ,be observed, lestthere be ~ darigerof losing 3uch gob_ds thro~igh neglect of, the requiie- " men.is of the civil la~. This applies especially to all kinds '"~'Of contracts'and the i.ncurring.of debts, because th~ Code tias "canonized" the civil law in ~his matter:, "Thb presc~';pfions of the civ.il law of the place r~garding contracts b~th ~n cjen~ral and°in particular, whether'nomlnate o~ ;nhominate as well as recjardin9 payments,'shall be obse~rve'd by the same right in. eccles;astl-cal matters, unless they. are contrary to the natural law'~or special pre-. scr;pt~ons are found in canon law" (ganon 1529). ., ,3. Incc~me of goods ghoutd be accurately demar~ded "at ° [egular intervals:. Income thus collected should ,be care- fu, lly,. guarded and (i-n:~s~ ~,~bf foor~lations)o sh~ould, be .expended according .to th,e mind ~f the donor. 4. Income sho~tld-, be invested for the benefit of.' the, Church." The',,term "church" in the gener~il canons ,,on temporalities-means the individual moral personality of who~se, temporalities there is question (canon !,498). For~ us it means the religious institute. " -_- All income acquired~from temporal goods is considered - as.free-capital until it is invested. Hence it may for ordindry _expenses and for the payriaen.t ,of debts. °'But ifit is not needed for these purpose's, it should be inves(ed. Once i~avested, it becomes "capi_tal" or eccelesiastical goodsTM and is subject to, the" norms of canon law regarding aliena-, I~ion. 5.~ Books of mon&s received and expended should~be-cqrefully kept. This is sound business sense. It is*also, -iequired-in" order that the administrator may give that _ periodic account to l~i~ superiors required b~r the canon law. 6. Documents and business papers, should be kept in order and karefully gtiarded. This includes all kinds of- ~documents and p.apers, such as deeds to property, founda-. _ tions, donatibns,, contracl~s, and so forth. Canon -375',/ § 2 obliges bishops-to see to it that an inyentory or cata-logue- Of all documents in the'diocesan arcl-iivesbe mad.e. This inventory' includes a brief synopsis of the-content-~f,, each documen[. : Such a catalogue.- makes it e~sy to._find documents and-lessens,the danger of the.ir being lost. Reli-gious i~dministrators will do well to observe thi~ canon. °-. Such, in gener~il, are the ordinary powers and duties of. an administrator of ecclesiastical goods; in ourcase, of the-bursar general with-regard to the goods of his instltute. . Superiors should not interfere in the ordinary" administra-tion of the bursar, but should receive reports from him-and o examine~his accounts from time to time. The ~ao-rmal func-" 332 ~pternber, 1944 ~ ~ THE BUI~$AR~(3ENERAL OF,A RELIGIOIJS INSTITUTE ti6n;of the si~perior inthisregard is ttiat of~direction. The iminediat~ and" actuM ordin~ar~r administration is generally ~tenied to superiors by, the Code, and should be left to the bursar and his assistants subject to~ the direction 'of the superior. Thee coristitutions usually,, pr~scribe in detail 'the rela- ~ tions between superiors ahd bursars in regard to. temporal-administration, and should be' faithfully observed. " - " Extraordinary.! Administration -~y .acts of extraordina.ry admin.istration a~e m~,ant ~hings which are more rare and.of a more important- nature,¯ Such as the inv_estment of-money, excha~nge of securities, buying and selling of real estate, exti)aordinary repairs of 15uildings and equiPment, and the building of a °new stru~-. ture~, Fo~ all such actions the bursar must obtain the vari- "ous pe~rmissions required by the common lawa~s well as by the constitutions of his instittite. According to the general law of the Church, '~not only every .institute, but e~very p~ovince, and every house is capable of acquiring and possessing property w, ith fixed ~r fotinded revenues, unless the capacity to do so be excluded or restricted by its rules and constitutions" (canon 531). Some constitutions provide for" but one subject of. owner- ,ship, in the entire institute, so that there is only one.a~lmin-istration of temporalities. In this case it is usual for the constitutions to prescribe that the bursar general ~keep ~eparate accounts at least of the income and.expenses of the ,iridiiridual ho(~ses. This will show whether or not the ~individual houses are self-supporting. .: When each house has itsown~ local'administ_ration, it is 9sually prescribed that a certain portion of,the net in, come remaini_ng at the. end of the year after all bills liave" b~en paid,should" b~sent to the'motherhpuse foXthe su~pp0rt of .333 o~. ADAM C, ELLIS th.~:novices, Sisters in studies, and the like.~ The' N~cmae of 1~901 pres(ribed that well-to-do houses should-con, tribute one third of the .net~.cash on hand year, after all bills had been paid presen.t, practice of the Sacred Congregation ~f Religiou.s is t6 allow th~ .constitutions to prescribe that the genei~al c~hapter wiil decide the amount that should be ~contribut~d annually to the motherhouse .for the needs of the institute a whole.' The amount may thus be increased or lowered in each general chapter, according to the needs ~f the times. It "is" the dhty of the bursar general to collect t.hese contribu-tions at the pr0i3er time, as Well as~o examine the-financial statements of t/fie individual l~6uses which are sent to him periodically, according to the consti~utions. If these accounts are-not satisfactory, he ~should report the °det~- ciencies to ~the superior, whose duty it is to rePrehend those responsible. , To vindicate and defend o-rie's ~:ights in court is an act oFnormal adm~nistration: but religious superiors may not go to courtin the' name of their community excep.t in con-~,~ fo.rmi.ty'with theconstitutions (d~anon 1653, § 6). - " 'Conclusion ._ Administrators,of church 15roperty, b9th~superiors and other officials, should., remember° that they-are not the owners of the property which they administeL hence_they. ma.y riOt dispose of the temporal goods of the institute'as they please; but only in accordance with the prescriptions of canon and civil law. All administrators are obliged to give-an account of their stewardshiE~th~ .bursar general to-the superior general, the superior general[to the Holy See in the quinquennial repb~t in the case of mstttutes approv.ed by-the Holy See, to the local Ordinary in .the case of a~ diocesan congregation. . # 33'4. ' ~re:~ou Sor~yfoi YOur-Sihi? Gerald Kelly, S.J~ ~HE.Council of Trefit oNciall~-declardd: that true con- ~.~ ~rigion consists in a detestation o~ one's sins, .with grief ~'of soul, and a purpgse~0f sinning n0 more. According to~ the same Council; contrition is so-necessary that God never 'forgives any persona~ sin, even in the Sacraments of~ ~ Baptism and Penance, unless the sinner genuinely repents. ~ Perhaps it is this doctrine of the necessity'of contrition that makes the subject ingeresti~g. ¯ At any rate, it is inter, .~sting. Anyone who has taught th~ Subject, whether in ff ~theology elass or .in an advanced religion class, knows that. ~And we all know it from personal experience, too.; We want to b~ rid of our s~ns; therefore we want to be sorry for ~t~em~.and we wan~ to be sure we are sorry for them. Perfect Contrition ~' Per[ect,contrition is a. subject of .special intereit because .it sometimes happens that perfect contrition affords the~ "only possible means of saving o~e's soul. The baptized person who is i~ the state of,mortal sin and is dying with~ 6ut the oppor~unity.of~going to cdnfes~ion or ~f receiving E~tre~e Unction is faced ~ith the grim alternative of making an act of perfect contrition or of going to hell. The unbaptized sinner who is dying w~thout th~ opportunity -of receiving, actual baptism faces a similar alternative. No one can sa~ that ~eff~ct.contrition will neve~ be a matte'r of ~trict necessity for him, becau~ ~ortal sin is ~ ';possibility for.everyone, and death ~ithout a pfiestqs ~Is~ a possibility: Yet, even if it were never of Strict necessity, ~the,act of perfect Contrition is a beautiful prayer and should be £afd often. It i~ certainly.the best kind of contrition?for".-" ~ .~. ~ ~ GEI~LD KELLY - Revievd/or veni~l sins;-and,, withr~eg~rd to m~rtaI~in~, it hdst~e spe.~ ~ .cial p~wer.of restoring sanctifying grac~ to the sodl imme: diately,-thus makin~ it unnecesary to wait. ~or the oppor-tunity of gging~,to~cgnfession .in order~to 'regain God's friendship, to be able to ~erit eternal life, and to.be pre; pared for suddeh ~eath, ' InstrUcted CatholiCs usually know the ~adt that ~er: fect contrition immediately ~lots out mortaI sin, but not ikfrequently t~ey misunderstand "the reason for this special power of p~rfect c6ntrition. In fact, only recentlE,' ih'a bbok otherwisd sound and excellent, thd statement was madd.that in the case of a baptized person who has com-mitted a mortal sin, perfect contritionrestores grac~becausg. it"contains a desire for the Sacrament of Penance. Thii' is-,. not.the correct explanation. It is true, 0f cogrse, that, in~ the case ~eferred to, perfect-Contrition must cbntaih at ldast an.~ implicit intention of, going tO ~onfession; otherwise it would be a means 0f salvation entirely independen~ o['the sacrament and would excuse us entirely from God's pre-. cept. of confessing ,the mortal sins committed after baptism. But this intention to receive the sacrament is not th~'dispp-sition that gives perfect contrition its'special ~cacy. Even i~pe.rfect contrition must contain such an intention. ~ The real reason~ ~hy perfect contritign instantly re-~ stores gr~ce to the soul, even before we go to confession;- is to Be found,in its motioe. Perfect contrition is motivated gy charity. The sinner turns to God with peifect~ove; and God repays lord with love. As ou~ Ldrd ~old us, God takes up His abode with those who love Him. " ~e are often asked if it i~ di~chlt for one who h~s~ s~nned mobtally to make an act o~ perfect contrition. .In -an~werifig the questio~ We must h~ve regard for.several points. !n the'first place, ndith~ p~rfect nor imperfect trition ca.lls for a definite degre~ of intensity or r~quiies-any~ Septerr~ber, 1944 " ARE YOU SORRY FOR YOUR SIN~? certaln amount of time. ~n t~e o[her han~, bo[h kinds~of. con[rifion mus[ con[ain an app~eciaffon or~ p~eferenc~ of God which entirely excludes the w~ll to commi~ mortal sin: In" 0[h~ words, ~he con[rile sinner mus~ prefer God [o ady~ p~rsgnal_safisfac[ion [ha[ would con~ic[ ~ith God'd ~riend-s~. This disposifion~is required in all contrition for:mor- [al ~in; and i~is enough, even for perfec[ contrition. emphasize the fact that it is enoUgh, because I believe th~ ~'the.~mpress~6n is.'somet~m~s g~ven that .perfect contrition must exclude all attachment to sin. This impression is not a~curate. Perfect contrition admits of degrees. lowest-~degree contains the ~ preference for God "over any~- .th~ng that conflicts .with h~s friendship; and th~s does not necessarily exclud~ a~t~chm~nt to venial sin.- In assisting-- d~ing sifiners, it seems advisable to begin w~th the lowest degree. After g~v~ng them ~h~ motive for perfect co~tr~- t~on~of which we shall speak in a moment~get tBem to repent of their mortal s~ns and to,resolve never again to s~n mortal'ly. If they have this disposition, ~h~y have what ~s strictly necessary for "loving God above all things," for lov~ng God "with their whole heart, their Whole soul, and .~their whole mind." Having, helped them to th~s essential d~spos~t~on, one can then try to "go higher,"~that ~s,~ to. ~instill sor~ow.fo~ venial s~n and even to incite a desire~ fo~ ~erfect.conform~ty to the will of God in all thin~s. Under manyaspects, therefore, an act of perfect con-tntlon is notmore di~cult than imperfect contrition. The di~cul.ty, in so far as there, is a di~culty, lies ih the one ele~ ment that distinguishes perfect contrition from imperfect: namely, in the motioe. Perfect contrition springs ~from ~eharity ;" ond charity is the love of God "for His own sake" ~an unselfish, disinterested love, To 10ve God for His bwn sake should not be~ di~cult for anyone who reall,y ~know? God: that is, for one ~ho has cbme t6 appreciate 33~ ~ER/~I~D KELLY" - .Re'uie~ £or ~eh'g'ious ~h~ough prayer that°God is go~d and !ovabie; but "~or those_ Who have given little'thought to God, the case is proba.~l~ different:-They need to make some consideration" thal~ will sh~w ~themthat God is really worth loving for His own sake. A ra.ther simple.;ccay of l~elping a sinner to arrive at the -motive necessary for perfect contrition is to g.et him to ,reflect on Christ Crucified. In the opiStufe of our Lord on the Cross we have a very .graphic portrayal of God'os love for us. AppreciatiOn of this fact-begets gral~itude soul;, and it is an easy step from gratitude to perfe~:t love, that is, to the love of charity.St. John, the great apos.tle of charitji,, told us to foll6w this path. from gratitude to charity when he said.:. "Let us therefore love God, .because~ God first hath loved us" (I ,John '~: 19)~. St. Paul's.gr~eat --personal love ol~ our. Lord sprang., from an appre.ciation of the tremendous fact expressed in his Words: "He loved rile and deli~rered himself up for me.'.' St. Francis Xavier's° great prayer of love (0 Deus, Ego Arno Te) is a poeti~. expressio.n of the words of St. John and of St:Paul.~ S(. Ignatius, in his. "Contempla'tion for Obtaining Love," uses. the same psychology: he takes us 'from gratitude perfect, unselfish, disinterested love. First we count the_ ~ gifts of G6d to us, and, seeing their iaumberarid.their val~e, we are deeply grateful;,then, thriju.gh the gifts, which are so good, we rise t6 the consideration of.the infinite goodness. _ of the Giver. -When we say that perfect contrition is motivated by charity, and,that ctiarity.is the love of God forHis'~swn-sake, we do not mean. that perfect- contrition exclude~ all other mot.ives. It is_quite Eroper:for us to be grateful fO God for his benefits, to ~desire to enjoy the happiness of" heaven, tO fear the punishments of hell, and so forth. iuch truths furnish motivation for sorrow for sin; and the} _ 338 -- September, 1944 _ " " ~ " ~ "ARE YOU SORRY FOR YOUR SZNS o~", ~an exist'in the soul together .with the motive for perf&t ¯ : ~ " Imp'effect Contritidn Perfect dbntriti6n "isindeed e.xcellent; but we should -. not overlook the value of imperfect contrition. Imperfect -x6.n.trition is not enough of itself to do away witl~' mortal sin; yet eveh for those in the state of mortal, ~in it is very~ - . profitable. It disposes them togo ,an act Of perfect contrition, and in confessionit is a suffb cient disposition for absolution. ; As for. venial sins,~ theologians commonly, teach that ii~perfet~ contrition is enough for their remission outside ~ ~. of confessibh.~ Hence, those who. have only venial sihs-on their s0ul nee'd not be particularly solicitous about their motives-when, they make an act of contrition;any one of the many possible supernatural motives for detesting their sins will be a suffi'cient basis for a fruitful act of contrition. Elements of All Contrition "It is:of little' ~vai[ to consider the necessity and kinds of ~ontrition, if one's notion of contrition itself is not clear; hence it will be worth our wb~le to return to the first sen-tence of this article. I indicated there that, according to ¯ the Council of Trent, all contrition contains three ifi~red.i- 'ents: detestation, grief, and purpose of amendment. And, of course, as a prerequisite to any act of contrition, there-must be tbe~realization that one has done wrong. -Hence, ev,ery act of contrition.includes in some way, four psycho-logicalsteps: owe realize t~at w~ have sinned; we detest w.hat'we did; we grieve ove~ it; and _we.resolve to amei~d. I should not want to encourageanyone to be technical . in l~is prayers; yet I think that we can all profit by occa- . .sipnal.ly taking apart an 'act of~c~ntrition by thinking over" the me,aning of each of-these psychological steps, and by 339 1. ~GER/(LD KELLY' ,_ ~, Review for Reli~l~ous oactu~i!ly mfikirtgthe'steps-slowlyand prayerfully. In the -subsequent paragraphs, my purpose'is to offer some explg~ _nations and sugg.e, st!ons that might be an aid to one who wants to m~ke ~n act of contrition meditatively. Perhaps I ought to preface .mY ~ema~ks with a brief statement con~cer.ning their doctrinal val~e. Tl'ie Church_ -has mad_e it quite clear that an hct of contrition must t~in-c~rtain elements; but she has let~t the detailed explana-tion of these elements to her theologians. I have drawn rny~ _explanations f.rp_m the works of eminent theologians; yet I realize that on some points the theological_literature is, somewhat obscu.re and that differences of opinion~are pe'~- missible. In all cases of obscurity or uncertainty, I have aimed to limit my sugges.tions, to what is safe and prac-ticable. R~alization When v~e make an act of contrition we have .to be c~a- "scious of the fac~ that we ourse.lves have done evil. This ° ~upposes, of course, a speculative appreciation of the evil ., of sin; but.it does~not stop with mere speculation. The ~ purpose of the realization which precede~s and motivates the act of contrition is to get the sinner to turn away from his~ ow_n sins, with grief and a purpose of amendment. There-fore, it is well to begin a meditative act of contrition with .a conscx0u.sness of one s own sins. This d~es not ne.cess_arily" mean a detailed examination of conscience; but it does imply at least ~i general recalling of one's sins. -- In our catechism books' we say that an ~ct of contrition~ must~ be suoerna.tu~al: th_at is, it must be made wi~b God's grace and. it must be based bn a motive drawfi from~ ~-evelatiori. We may takefor granted that God gives",the grac.e, but we ourselves, have to,s,upply the supernatural motive by considering our sins in the light of some revealed 340 ,State'bet, 1944 , ~ AR~ YOU SORRY FOR YOURSINS~ [ruth. Am6ng,t~e many [~uths t~a~ h~Ip to show,us the e~i!;0f~our sins,, I might suggest the following. Tbe jogs of beaoen, or tbe oai~s~of bell: These are directly applicable to mortal sin, because mortal sin depr~ves us of' our righ~ to heaven and makes us deserving of hell. But the thoughf of heaven can als0 be abplied venial sin because, after all, the/e are degrees of ~lory~in heaven, an~d venial sin kdeps us from attai~ng a higher ~ degree'of glory. EVen the thought of hell can be used as a motive for repenting of venial sin,' because by. commitdn~ ~ vernal sins we might form habits that would lead to mortal ~ sin or_ we might lose certain special g?aces that would at _,times be. necessary in order ~o overcome serious temptfi--~ ,tibns. And, of course, a consideratibn of purgatory,, especially as a painfu~ delay in reaching~ur heavenly h6me, ' "is directly appl:icable to venial sire Tbe Olories o~ sa~ati~i~g ~tace: Grace makes our Souls ,,.beautiful in the ~yes of God; it makes us His adopted chil, .~dren, tharers in His nature, heirs to His happiness. Mortal sin loses this priceless possession for us; venial sin, though - it does not. affect the grace in our. s6uls, represents a~ lost opportunity to grow in grace. Tbe Passio~ o~ 6at Eord: This furnishes fine motiva- ~i0n ~or sorrow for either mortal or venial ,sin. And the same ma? be said-f6r any aspect of our Lord's life, because . everything we know about Him is~ calculated to. increase our admiration andlove of Him and thusshow us by contrast ~. the mefinness of our failure to live according to ~the pattern "'He has given Us. Tbe~doctrine of tbd Redemotion and of our Oa~f i~ itS" God has united us in such a way that_we can help one another ~n the w~y of sai~ation and sanctification. ~n ap~reciafion of this~'truth and of its tremendou~ imp)ica-tion~ gives us a new light on sin:- it.is n0f onlE harmful to ,V ourselves; it is a:refusal.to cooperate ~n~a glOrious-cause.-:,. ~, The ~divine wis~bm hbd2~ood~:~ Prdp~rly~under-stood, ~ this is the most all-embracing and fundafien:tal ~afid, ~I-might ~d, the simplest of motives for ~ detesting sim~ It ~ takes us back to the ohe reason why we and thiswhole world exist at all: namely, to share in the divine goodness"~ according to the ;nfihitely wise plan of God Himself. - By Sin~ we do what we can to thwart His plan; we voluntarily prevent Him from ~iving Hi~self to us as He wishes to ~do~" Ddtestation The whole purpose of meditating on~ ohe of the~ fore-going ~t?uths, or on some similar revdaled truth, is to pre-pare the soul for a~ act of contrition. In~the actor con, trifion itself, tb~ first step is detestation. ~. ~ ~ ~ ; ~ Theologians generally agree, I.believ~, that, as a distinct element-in~ the act of contrition, ~detestation refers.~to the~ p~st. The sinner goes back, so ~o speak, on the a~t that h~> peLformedtand deliberately, chooses to do just the opp~sit~ from what he did when he sinne~. In sinning,,he chose.hi~ o~n will to God's Will; now Ee turns away from his for-mer choide and unites his will to God's will. - " E~idently we cannot undo an act that i~ dong. ~ We;an ,make reparation fdr it; we can.pay damages; we can some-. times ~top it~ effects;, but the fact that" act was performed cghnot be changed. The best that we~can do ~ith~regard to the past act-is to wish we had not done it. "And'that seems~to be-the most apt way khat'we can deScrib~ detesta- 5ion of sinf it is a deliberate wish:that the act'had not been p~rformed. ,- ~ _". " It'is probabl~ not advisable, in making ~ meditative act of contrition, to spend a great deal of time on tgis point. There~ is no direct way of testing an ifiterio~ disposi;tidn such as'detestation, and we are likely to be disturbed, e~e~ _ ~ ~, . - _ T~ ~,S~p,~ember0 1944 ~. _ '-~'ARE YOU ~0RR~ FOR YOUR SINS? . ' ~:ofrightened',~ ,by our, sen~-tove and'- self=love. ~For-'th'ese o " Causes of sin are just asstrong a.s the were. wiaen the'sin ~ "was performsd and they keep. telling us that they liked the sin and.that,they are glad it happened. Hence, if we'dwel[. ~,= long oh this point, we areapt to think that we have no con- ~trition, at all. It is better to make a simple act'of the will: ';~ " ,,"BeCause I n6w see the evil that I did, I wish I had not --~ committed it"; and then. go on to the ndxt point. In prac-tice, we can~ take for granted that we have the )equired " - --~ ,--~d~testation if we have the realization, grief, and purpose ¯ "of amendment. . Grief of Soul ¯ ~" ~ Tile blessed, in heaven can detest their sins but they can-not griev~ o~er them. "i~he reason for this is that grief .Supposes the presence of an evil, and the sins of the blessed-are merely past acts, ttie evil effects o~ which have all been ~emoved ~= With us, th~ case is different." For instance, when a man co .mmits.a mortal sin, his ~oul immediately becomes an, . ~'~ Object of re, proach before God. .This is an evil effect of sin "~ ~over which he can certainly grieve. After the man makes a o""~ood confession, he can have a reasonable assurance that he~ has regained God's friendship, but h~ is not sure that'a11 effects of his sin are removed. There may be some tern, ¯ poral ptinishn~ent~ to ,undi~rgo; there mas} be some weak~: : "hess in the sofil, Some special liability to sin, thaf results ~ro~ his former sin.Because of the possibility that such ,._e~il effects may continue, we~,can griev~ over our sin~all t_hr0ugh our lives, because this possibility keeps the sins ~)'present to us at least in some sense. . ~. Perhaps the best way to describe the grief of soul which constitutes the second element of contrition is to"say that. -o jt'il a desire to get.rid of, tO shake off, the effects of our sins; ~ERALD KELLY " ' + ¯ " -Rem'e t+o °/: "o +r Religious. b&ause-- we- realize that m these effects our detestable +sins sti+il:cling to us. , We have~ to remind good people again and again that grief over sin-is not fiecessarily a matter of feeling. To~ u~e - an illustration, let us suppose that two men get, their hands:.,+ and arms cgyered with.m, qd. The firs~ man likes mtid ahd lqeenjoys being covered with it; the secon'd man does .like it. Then suppose that +while.they are covered" wi+~h~the+ ' mud they find oul~ tha(.this particular mud is very harmful to ttie skin." Both of them immediately try. to wash it bff, _ The example illustrates the difference betw+en acci~ dental grief and essentialgri+ef. On!y one of. the.men had a ~ +feelin9 of' repugnance for tlhe mud, yet both of+ them" tried to bedrid of it when they fbund it wa~s harmful. Sb Jr'is with+ Sorrow for sin. To feet-grief over the effects of sin is good, and may even be called an accidental perfection of dontri~" tion'; but theessential thing "is.to want" to be ¯rid of the.e~,i]. ¯ The besl~ exl~ression of grief, therefor)e, is'n61~ tears, but the sincere will to go to confession, to make.an act ~of per-fect contrition, to gain.indulgences, to repair an. injury dorfe' ~, .~to one's neighbor, to accept some hardship willingly in+ re16aration for one's sins, to¯ do some voluntary penahce' for the same purp?se, and so forth. ' These ale the means of: ~dbing away with the effects of our sins; hence, the will to ~do ~uch things is a tangible, way of showing ourselves that we are sorry, no matter how _we feel. Purpose of Amendment ._ ++. Purpose of'arr;endment, though by no mean~ the whole - of contrition, is 'a very important part of it, and probably~ tile best practical proof of it. No_one can have real contri-~ tion unless he intends to "amend" his lifd, but as" ~hi~ "amen "ament~ can have diffeient meanings for~ differefit ~cases; it may be well for us to consider some examplesdr ",8el~(ember, i944 . k ~ ~ ARE YOU SORRy_ FOR YOUR SINS-t these var"ia t"ions. Suppose .that a man who ha~ committed mort.ai gins sinc~ his last confessibn now wants to regain the state of "grace. W~hether he goes to confession, or makes an act-of perfect contrition with the intention of'goirig to confession, he must' certainly be besolved to "amend", his life. And ~ince ¯ his~c0ntr~tion concerns mortal sinsl hispurpose of amend-ment must be really absolute: tha.t is, he~ must intend to - avoid all mortal sin in the future. He would have tohave the same uncompromising r~solutidn, even if he had. com-imitted~ only one mortal sin. The "purpose of_sinni.ng no .more" applies quite literally tO the'case,of mortal sin. On the other hand, suppose the case of a man who has committed only venial sins since hi~ last confession, but . W.ho now- wishes to make an act of contrition for all h~s venial sins because he wants to'gaifi a plenary indulgence. .What kind of purpose.of amendment'must this man have? "The question is not easy to answer with perfect satisfac- ' tionf but it seems safe to say that it is sufficient for him if fie~.retains no attachment'toany venial sins (in the sense . that he intends to continue to commit t/'2ose Sins) and that he has at least a general intention to improve, for example, o' "~ by reducing the number of his venial sins. We mighi add that it is generally recommended that °such a man should -center his purpose of amendment, on the correction of some-~. thing definite. This recommendation is given ~becausel .experience teaches us that a general purpose o~ amendrfient ~,~is likely to prove ineffective "and that the act .of iontrition ih such' a case is ap.t to degenerate into a mere fobr~ula,~,a bit of wishful thinking, and.nothing more. ~, ~ ' ~ ~'A third case: A man has committed only ve'nial.sins since his last confession,, and he knows that be really" is not contrite for some of these sins: yet be'does wish to make a fiind~re act'of contrition" for 6ne kind of sin: for exa.mplq, 345 ~ ¯ GERALI~ KELLY ~ - ~i~iew ~br Religious iying.~ What must be this man's p~rpqse of amendment? ~.- Again, the case is not~asy fo s01~e with perfect satisfactions: but it seems Safe to give this practical~ rule: Ifthe man's lies -are of the ~ull~ ~libecate kind, he ought to'be resolved avoid them entirely; bfit if-the lies are rather.qn the~semi~ deliberate side~. ~he ought at least to have the good will try to reduce their number. In ~he'foregoing cases,-"amendment, of life'~ was used in. its ordiflary, everyday sense: tfiat is~. ~s an impfove~en¢ over one's recent Conduct. 'There is a fourth case, in which the expression,.e~idently has a different, meaning.: sj[der, for example, the holy K~ng David. _He offended God~ seriop~ly; then_he repented of that sin, was_forgiven, as far as we know, lived many years in the friendship, of God. Yet he continued to recite his Miserere for his past ' lapse fr6m grace. I.t would be absurd to think that this Miserere was-not a good act of cpntrition; but if it was " an-act ofcontrition, in what- did the amendment cod~ist? It ~eems obvious that "amendment"-. in such circumsta~e~ .has a wide meaning:~ that.is, it refers to the renewed pur-pOSe of continuing the reform that had begun Years ag6> The case of David is repeated week after-week iK our confessionals throughout the world. People sin~ mortally in their youth; they confess the~e sins, and then live.for-mony~ years without'furthe} serious lapses. Yet these peo- , p1~, can certainly make acts. of contrition for the "bld": mortal., sins;' in fact, they are e~n advised to i.nclude t~ese -sins in their.confessions io that they may benefit more and more by theabsolution. In their case, as ih David s,.the ~ purpose of amendment-for their mort~l sins d0~sno~ redan. :~ an_ intention to correct their present .lives, but" rather- the. renewed purpose to persevere in the amendment.th#t has, 10rig ~ince beefi brought about. The examples illustrate the various aspects ~of and 346 " ,'~':. September, 1944" - - ARE YOU SORRY FOR Y~)UR SINSt ~ requisit~ for ~u~pose of amendmefit. In our own case, ~when we m'ake an act-of contrition, we shall-, generally find a combination of these examples. We have sins of the past, "for .which it is sufficient to.renew our purpose of amend-r~ en~, and°retent sifts which" call" for real amendmen, t o and '~"~ defiriite resolutions. ~" " _ ~We sa~ that the, f.eelings sometimes present a p~ycho-.- °logicaldifficul~y in estimating detestation and grief.- Some- ~"°~hing ,~imilar can happen .wi.th regard.to purpSse of amend- "-~ ment, parti[ul~rly when ha,bitual sins of frailty are in.- '~yol~red. The sinner realizeshis w~akn~ss and, e~ien-.when he makes~ his act of contrition or goes to con'fession,, he "'~feels,sure" that he is going to sin again. Because of thi~, ,.he wonders if he really has a purpose of amendment. . ~"fh~ ,solution to the difficulty lies in a.proper under- ~- standing 6f~a purpose of amendment. I~ is not an act' of ~' the ~ind, but_of the will. It is a sincere.intention to try to dmend; and to take the means necessary.for doin~ that. .::'" ,The"'f.e~ling ~hat one will sin again" may result, not from any" ill~ will, but from the consciousness-that one is weak -~ and that this weakness has expressed itself again and again. Nevertheless, there is no weakness that cannot be Overcome by.serious effort and the grace'of God: Even the most habitual sinner can,,,resolve to make the effort, and he may 'il~ei iure that GSd will give ttie grace. And ,he should not "be ~li~scou.raged if he ~does fall again; ,this may simply be a -~ sign that he h~s not 'yet discovered the proper means for, correcting his particular bad habit. Sometimes people think, that all .they need to do to°~ oirercome bad habits is to go to the sacraments frequently. This'is only one. aspect of the solu[ion. It will ne~ver work unle.ss the sinner ~akes the more obvious means of avoiding "-occasions of sin, of exercising himself in self-control, and~ ~ sd forth 347 K~:LLY~,. ¯ ~ .,. ~ GERALD . . :- ~ " My afialysis of the act of contrition has been lofig.-Yet I.hop-e it ~cbntgins some helpfUl.suggestions. "~In pa~?ticular2 I think that many would find it fruitful to make a medi-tative act of contrition o~casionall) for example, ,during the morning'meditation on confession day. ~The Cl~urch evidently wants us to draw gre~t profit from frequent fe~ssion; and for.this there.is no m~ans more. effective tha~n~. an increase in contrition. ~" o BOOKLE-rs H~cmn and Psalm~ to Our Lad~l is the title of a: handy little, pamphlet containing "an, English translktioa of the Te" Matcem De/ Laadamus and the "5 Psalms" honor Of Ou~ Lady. Readers who are interested tanget the booklet fr,6mothe erend d,ude Senieur, O.F.M.Cap.0 Capuchin College, Brookland, Washington D.C. The pamplet is sold for the cost "of printing and mailing: individual copies 5 cents each; lots of 25 or more at greatly reduced rates. MV Particialar Ex~men Book is a tiny pamphlet containing many~helpful sug-.,.~ gestions concerning the pa,rticular,examen.and a.numbeE of ruled pages.for marking th~ examen. It is published by- the Franciscan Sisters of the Perpetual Adoration.~ ~t. Rose Convent, La Crosse, ,Wisconsin'. The, booklet began ~s a prtvate com-munity project, but the Sis[ers are now offering it to-other groups of religiotis prac2 tically at cost ($3.00 a hundred) in order to stimulate the use of the particular~ -'xamen as an important nieans of spiritu,al advancement. "Anal~lsis of the. New Testament, by. Cyril Gaul. O.S.B. An excellenL booklet. the fruit of m~ny years of teaching Scripture at St.~, Meinrad's Seminary. In accbrd with Pius X's Qaoniarn i~ re Biblica, the author has provided seminarians with an analysis of the various New'Testament books which all priests and ~he laity will welcome. 77 pages. Price: ~40 cents a copy, postpaid; 4 fol $1.00. Address: SL Meinrad Historical Essays, St. Meinrad. Indiana. ' 348 ~XINT DOMINIC,.AND HI~ WORK. By fhe Reverend Pierre Mandon-net, O.P~ Translated by Sister Mary Benedic÷a Larkln,.O.P.~ Pp.~xvlll ~- 487. B. Herder Book Co., Sf~ Louis, 1944. $S.00. -~ : According to a contemporary account, "the Blessed" Dominic w~as of medium height and of slight build. His Countenance was;hand-some:, of fair complexion, with light auburn hair and beard and. lt~minous eyes. A~kind of radiance shone from his br6~. inspiring love and reveren.ce in,all. Full of joy, he seemed e~rer ready to smile, unlesS, moved to ~pity by the affliction of his neighbor. His hands were long and shapely; his voice itrong,, noble and sonorous. He n~ever was bald, and his corona was complete, sprinkled with:~a few white hairs." Along withthis ratherpleasing exterior; he possessed al,so ver, y exceptional interior gifts of'mind, heart, and Will. And if to this~be added,his life-long faithful correspondence with "so many extr~ordina~ry graces, even.mystical ones, we have tl~e man of action Of whom Pierre Mandonnet, O.P.,-a historian df repute, could say: ]'You may quote'me whenever you wish. I consider Saint Dominic as a religibus founder the greatest o~ganizer that ever trod this earth after~the Lord Jesus Christ." To decide whether, or not that jUdg-ment is true requires a careful re~ding of this volume. It is a little~ Summa of Dominican brigins. ~" . P~re Mandonnet once jotted down on a slip of paper: "T0.re~d." :jo.y; to think, delight; .to write, torture." The last three" wor, d.s may be a par~tial explanation why the present work was far from com-i~' le}ed" when he'died in 1936.- But'he had done ~he reading and'the thi_nking, indeed, a. great deal of both: and he had outlined the chap-ters unit had written,some of them. Fortunately, he had competent ¯ disciples and co-workers. Orie of these, Marie-Humbert Vicair~e, O.P., ~ orghnized the .copious material gathered over many.years, and' sup-plement'ed it with critical notes and studies of his own. Anotpey,. Reginald Ladn~r, O.P., contributed a.do~umentedt.background chap-teron the plight of preaching in the twelfth c~ntury. The result is a book, pi~blished in 1939,somewhat lacking in unity and coherence, but substant~ally P~re Mandonnet s, both as to content and arran~e-~ ment. The contributions~.of Vicaire and Ladner are signed by-them, gut this is not noted in the'table of contents, as it should be. , 349 BOOk KEVIEWS _ . ~ Review.for Reli~.lio!is - ¯ Tile~bobl~-is d.ivided into tWO parts. The first part'presents the bis.~orical .setting, sketches tl~e iife of Saint Dominic, and develops at "length .his arduous l~bors in~fgunding and organizing the Order of. ¯ Preachers. Ciearly seen is thehand of Divine Providence, raising up a new Orderto meet the p~culiar religious needs of the times. In the early'thirteenth century,, the gradual coll~p~ of the old feudal s~rstem an~l the growing prominence of the towns a~ad communes brought about a changed order of things. The lower clergy, for the ~ost p_art ignorant and untrained, was too slow adapting itself to the altered situation. T, he bishops were more occupied w~th temporaht~es than" with tlSeir apostolic duty of preaching the .word of God: 5As-a ~ cdns~quence, the faithful, especially in the towns, began to drift away "frOm the Churchqnto heresies and schisms of various kinds. There,. ~was pressing need for an instructed clergy and for preachers of the Gospel. Saint Dominic, the zealous and learned sub-prior~ of the ¯catl~edrai'chapter of O~ma in Spain; was the man of Providence. was chosen~by Innocent the Third to found an Order qf poor priests~' -whose task would 15~ to preach to the people and to teach theology to ~ti~e clerics; in~brief,~"to contemplate and to give to others the fruits of contemplation." It was Dominic's Order that v/as to play such an important and successful. ~ole in carrying out the objectives ~of the- -Fourth Lateran Council~"the reform of the Church, the refor.rn of morals, the extirpation of heresy, and the strengthening "of the" Faith." Ma.y we not say that the Friars Preachers have never ceased ~_ doing, just that? ,The" second part of the book is" concerned with the Rule of Saint Augustine and its relation to the Rule of Saint Dominic. P~re.Mari~ donnet se.edas to have proved .his point: namely, that the Dominican riales and. constitutions,are, an organic development of the second. the,three 'rules of:Sainv Augustine, and. not, as-wfis though_Ufor,~a ~ ¯ lpng time, of the tliird, the famous Epistle.to certain religious women. The .second Rule is that primitive.Rule followed by a com~mentary" .which gaint,)~ugustiiae drew up in 391 for his first community~ of men. This study reveals, the'hand of a master,historian aiad is the most valuable section of the whole work. COncluding the~book-by way of appendices are five important "h'iDstoomriicnai lc astnueds,i"e s",w .aotnceh doof gwsh oicf hth dei sLcoursds.e's.' t Fheiv oer sigimini loafr tshteu deixeps~re~s sbiuotn~- of'a.more restricted and technical nature, l~ave been omitted from the., Efigl~ish e~liti0n. There_is

Issue 43.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1984. ; ;,!~ " A ,Call to Collegiality in the Service of Religious Christocentric Celibacy Volume 43 Number 2 March/April, 1984 The Vocation Director's Task of Evaluation REvtit.'w It:or REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. REVIEW ~:OR REI.IGIOtJS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage)¯ For subscription orders or change of address, write R~:vlEw yon RF.I.IC.tOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor ¯ Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1984 Volume 43 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~:wr:w for REL~GIOOS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:wEw ro~ RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. L ~uis, MO 63108. "Out of print' issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Internal. real; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. The Pastoral Service of Bishops to Religious John R. Quinn In August of 1983, Archbishop Quinn, chairman of the pontifical commission on religious life in the United Slates, addressed the Leadership Conference of Religious Women sharing his reflec-tions on religious life. In November, he shared with his fellow bishops his reflections on their pastoral office as this regards religious.This is the text of that address. Lst April, on the feast of the Lord's Resurrection, the Holy Father addressed a letter to each of us. In that letter he enunciated a new and funda-mental concept that gives meaning to everything else in his letter, and which explains the task we bishops are to accomplish: I now turn to you, the bishops of the United Slates, asking you during this Holy Year to render special pastoral service to the religious of your dioceses and your country.~ Before I deal with the meaning of this special pastoral service, I would like to say something about our role as bishops, which is the foundation of this service. The Office of Bishop The Vatican Council and postc0nciliar documents of the magisterium have elaborated in some detail the doctrine of episcopal collegiality. And the Holy Father has emphasized this concept in speaking to us. Christus Dominus puts it this way: "By divine institution and by virtue of their apostolic office, all of [the bishops] are jointly responsible for the Church.2 And in, his address to the bishops of the United States on September 19, the pope, speaking of this special pastoral service, said: I am deeply grateful to our Lord Jesus Christ that this initiative., is seen for what it is, 161 162/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 an application--an extremely important application--of the principle of collegiality, a principle so forcefully enunciated by the Second Vatican Council. In proposing this initiative to your pastoral zeal, my first intention has been to affirm collegial responsibil-ity for the state of religious life, which is intimately linked to the mystery of the Church and to the mystery of the episcopate. He then adds: This pastoral endeavor is of such importance that it could be fulfilled only by a full collegial commitment on the part of the bishops of the United States. This special pastoral service, then, is primarily a manifestation of episcopal collegiality: the Successor of Peter, head of the episcopal college, is calling us, his brothers, to this service of religious, which is an aspect of our own office as bishops. Speaking~of the episcopal office, the council teaches: The Spirit dwelled in the Church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple. In them he prays and bears witness to the fact that they are adopted sons and daughters. The Spirit guides the Church into the fullness of truth and gives her unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs her with various gifts, both hierarchical and charis-matic, and adorns her with the fruits of his graceP And because the charism and gifts of the Spirit are not dispersed in some random manner, but in a certain ordered relationship, the council states: There is only one Spirit who, according to his own richness and the needs of the ministries, distributes his different gifts for the welfare of the Church. Among these gifts stands out the grace given to the apostles. To their authority the Spirit himself subjected even those who were endowed with charisms.4 Thus, according to Catholic faith, while the apostolic office is indeed a gift or charism of the Spirit, it is not simply one among many co-equal charisms. It is for this reason that the drcument Mutuae Relationes affirms: Bishops, in union with the Roman Pontiff, receive from Christ the head the duty of discerning gifts and competencies, of coordinating multiple energies and of guiding the entire people in living in the world as a sign and instrument of salvation. They therefore are also entrusted with the duty of earing for religious charisms, all the more so because the very indivisibility of their pastoral mihistry makes them responsible for perfecting the entire flock, in this way, by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real pastoral duty.~ Perfector totius gr~gis, the bishop, by reason of his office, has pastoral responsibility for the religious in his diocese. This deeper understanding of our role as bishops, however, raises certain questions for us and for religious. One of these is the relationship between our pastoral responsibility and the internal autonomy of religious. In this connec-tion the document on the relationship between bishops and religious affirms: Institutes, then, have an internal organization all their own which has its proper field of competency and a right to autonomy even though in the Church this autonomy can never become independence.6 Likewise, Canon 586 of the new Code of Canon Law states: The Service of Bishops to Religious A true autonomy of life, especially of governance, is recognized for each institute . Local ordinaries have the responsibility of preserving and safeguarding this autonomy. I think it is true to say that in the past at least we have judged that, because most institutes were of pontifical fight, they were the exclusive concern of the Holy See. There was good will, but a large measure of distancing from reli-gious communities in the belief that religious communities were not part of our responsibility. Because of this, both religious and bishops came to assume that there were only two possible relationships: either control by the bishop, or detached good will. It is precisely the adequacy of this dichotomy which the mandate of the Holy Father has called into question. Autonomy or control do not exhaust the possible relationships between religious and the local bishop. There is a third possibility which the pope sees inherent in our episcopal office--beyond con-trol, beyond detachment--it is called "special pastoral service." And so nowhere in his letter or in the document Essential Elements is the canonical autonomy of religious denied or mitigated. Bishops are not consti-tuted major superiors of the religious congregations in their dioceses. In fact Essential Elements deals at some length with ex officio religious authority in religious institutes and conferred on them by the Church. The pope is not abrogating this authority, and he insists that he is only calling the bishops to something which is "in the precise area of episcopal competence."7 Because all of this touches on the fundamental issue of ecclesiology, it seems to me appropriate here to say something about what are called "differ-ing ecclesiologies." I think we all recognize that from the New Testament through the Fathers and the ensuing history of theology there has been a variety of legitimate ecclesiologies. Lumen Gentium itself, especially in Chap-ter l, witnesses to this variety. At the same time, it is important to recognize with equal clarity that all authentically Catholic ecclesiologies are rooted in and are expressions of a single more basic reality--the living Church--which is both trinitarian and incarnational, and whose objective reality always involves the compenetration of the visible and the invisible, the human and the divine, the charismatic and the hierarchical. This legitimate variety becomes defective, however, when the institutional component of the Church is considered separable from the spiritual, or when the apostolic-hierarchical element is considered separable from the chaffs-matic. One can sin against the integrity of the ecclesial mystery by affirming l the hierarchical and rejecting the charismatic, or, equally, by affirming tbel charistmatic and rejecting the hierarchical-apostolic office in the Church. When in the Creed we profess our faith in the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church, we declare our belief in the total reality of the Church, at once charismatic and hierarchical. We may indeed speak of various models of the Church. But in the final analysis, models are an intellectual construct articulating in limited human terms an objective ecclesial reality, apostolic in structure and doctrine, charis- "1154 /Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 matic and spiritual, which lives and moves through history and which, in all models, is gathered into a single incarnate mystery by the Holy Spirit. Thus, by reason of the apostolic structure of the Church, bishops have a responsibility for religious life in their churches. As a matter of fact, every religious institute comes into existence through the action of the charismatic and hierarchical factors in the Church. The Holy Spirit gives a certain gift to a foundress or founder and only through canonical recognition of that gift does the religious institute as such come into being in the Church. On the other hand, it is this very canonical rec-ognition which guarantees the continuing integrity of the charism of each reli-gious institute, including its "true autonomy of life, especially of governance." Special Pastoral Service In light of this, just what does this special pastoral service mean? Just what is the Holy Father asking of us? In his letter to us, the Holy Father lists six ways we are to carry out this pastoral service: I. Through the preaching of the Gospel and the celebration of the Eucha-rist with them, the bishop is to give a special invitation to religious to walk arm in arm with him "in living fully the mystery of the redemption in union with the whole Church and according to the special charism of their religious life." 2. Catechesis to the entire Church on the Church's teaching on conse-crated life. 3. Special invitation to religious to share with the pastors and the faithful in the Holy Year of Redemption through the path of conversion and penance. 4. Fraternal admonition of individuals or groups who, for whatever reason, have departed from the indispensable norms of religious life or who have adopted positions at variance with the Church's teaching. 5. Appointment of the pontifical delegate and the commission of bishops and the committee of religious. 6. Analysis of the reasons for "the marked decline in the numbers of young people seeking to enter religious life." In his address, which he directed to all the bishops of the United States, on September 19, the pope further elaborated what he is asking of us by this special pastoral service. I will not repeat here the content of that important address, but I would note that the Holy Father describes our task in words such as: call, dialogue, explain, proclaim, remind, help, speak to religious; emphasize the feminine role of women religious, manifest our love to the religious, confirm them in their charism, encourage the religious. In short, our pastoral service is cast in terms of a dialogue of salvation. This is a service which is eminently positive as it is eminently pastoral It cannot be accomplished without our willingness to devote an important The Service of Bishops to Religious amount of quality time to personal contacts with our religious. It cannot be fulfilled as the Holy Father envisions it merely by letters or even exclusively by massive gatherings of our religious for a one-time event. For this reason, it cannot be accomplished in many larger dioceses in the space of a few months. It will take time. And it is to be accomplished in the context of prayer and faith. Thus in his letter the Holy Father urges us to ¯ celebrate the Eucharist and to preach the word of God to our religious. The Meaning of Dialogue And so, what does dialogue mean? As you know, Paul VI conceived the whole of the Church in terms of dialogue. In his first encyclical letter, Ecclesiam Suam, he spoke of his desire "to impress upon the internal relation-ships of the Church the character of a dialogue between members of a body, whose constitutive principle is charity."s Noting that this dialogue is not a denial of the apostolic-hierarchical element of the Church nor a denial of the need for obedience in the Church, he went on to say: "It is our ardent desire that this conversation., should be full of faith~ of charity, of good works, should be intimate and familiar."9 Affirming that "dialogue is a method of accomplishing the apostolic mis-sion . . . an. example of the art of spiritual communication," Pope Paul outlined the characteristics of dialogue in the Church: 1. Clearness: "To review every angle of our language to guarantee that it be understandable, acceptable and well-chosen." 2. Meekness: "The dialogue is not proud, it is not bitter, it is not offensive. Its authority is intrinsic to the truth it explains, to the charity it communicates, to the example it proposes; it is not a command, it is not an imposition. It is peaceful; it avoids violent methods; it is patient; it is generous." 3. Trust: "Trust, not only in the power of one's words, but also in an attitude of welcoming the trust of the interlocutor. Trust promotes confidence and friendship. It binds hearts in mutual adherence to the good, which excludes all self-seeking." 4. Prudence: "Pedagogical. prudence, which esteems highly the psycho-logical and moral circumstances of the other . strives to learn the sensitivi-ties of the hearer and requires that we adapt ourselves and the manner of our presentation in a reasonable way lest we be displeasing and incomprehensible to the other. In the dialogue conducted in this manner, the union of truth and charity, of understanding and love is achieved."~0 Having noted these characteristics which should mark dialogue in the Church, I would like to note two other points of some importance which Paul VI underlines. First he says: "The dialectic of this exercise of thought and patience will make us discover elements of truth also in the opinions of others, it will force us to express our teaching with great fairness."1~ Then he comes to a point of the greatest wisdom, noting: 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 Before speaking it is necessary to listen, not only to the other's voice, but to the heart. The other must first be understood; and where he merits it, agreed with. In the very act of trying to make ourselves pastors, fathers and teachers., we must make ourselves their brothers. The spirit of dialogue is friendship and, even more, is service. All this we must remember and strive to put into practice according to the example and com-mandment that Christ left us.~2 And so we are to enter upon this dialogue not from some exalted place. Yes, we are to do it in the profound confidence of the sacred, apostolic office we have received from Christ through the Church. But we are also to accom-plish it with apostolic humility and gentleness, recognizing the religious as our partners in the dialogue. Pope John Paul touches on this in his September 19th address: In the very moment in which we bishops recognize our own need for conversion, the Lord asks us to go out to others--humble and repentant, yet courageous and without fear--to communicate with our brothers and sisters. Christ wants to appeal through us, to invite and call his people, especially his religious, to conversion. The document on the relationship of bishops and religious states the same idea: All pastors, mindful of the apostolic admonition never to be a "dictator over any group that is put in [their] charge, but [to] be an example that the whole flock follow~ ( I Pt 5:3) will rightly be at the same time leaders and members; truly fathers, but also brothers; teachers of the faith, but especially fellow disciples of Christ; those indeed responsible for the perfection of the faithful, but also true witnesses of their [own] personal sanctification.13 Dialogue, then, is a manifestation of a fundamental quality of the Church: organic ecclesial communion and mutuality. Our pastoral service, then, is not one in which we give but do not receive, speak but do not listen, teach but do not learn. For this reason Lumen Gentium states: Christ continually distributes in his body, that is, in the Church, gifts of ministries through which, by his own power, we serve each other unto salvation so that, carrying out the truth in love, we may through all things grow up into him who is our head.j4 Essential Elements Our guide in this pastoral service to our religious is the document Essential Elements. I would now like to offer some orientation for interpreting it. Having listened to what I have just said about dialogue, some may expe-rience the concern that there is no clear or binding teaching about religious life, that dialogue means everything is an open question. It is, then, important to recall what Paul VI says in developing his thought on dialogue: The danger remains. The apostle's art is a risky one. The desire to come together as brothers must not lead to a watering down or subtracting from the truth . [lt] will be for the wise, attentive government of the Church to determine, from time to time, the limits and forms and paths to be followed in maintaining a living and fruitful dialogue.~ First of all, then, it is evident that Essential Elements is not a statement of something new. It does not intend to state some new direction or a new policy. The Service of Bishops to Religious / 167 Thus the final sentence of the introduction states: In the present text addressed to institutes dedicated to apostolic works, this sacred con-gregation confines itself to a clarification and restatement of these essential elements.~6 Essential Elements is a compilation from conciliar and other magisterial documents and from the new Code of Canon Law. In order to interpret the meaning of any point in this document, therefore, the source document must be consulted both in its text and context. Essential Elements, therefore, cannot be correctly understood only by a superficial reading or without reference to the source documents which are clearly indicated in the text. Second, the binding force of Essential Elements is derived from two things: from the magisterial and canonical sources from which it derives, but also and importantly from the fact that this compilation has been mandated by the Holy Father and has been sent by him to the bishops following upon his approval of the document. It is also important to keep in mind that this document cannot be applied blindly and without regard for the long-standing principles governing the interpretation of magisterial and canonical documents. Religious life is simply not a univocal reality in the Church. There are many differences, for example, between the religious life of the Daughters of Charity and Maryknoll, between Dominicans and Jesuits. Hence in understanding and applying this document the law of analogy must be operative. Essential Elements itself embodies this sense of analogy when, in treating of community, it states: The style .of community life itself will relate to the form of apostolate for which the members have responsibility and to the culture and society 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.~7 The document Essential Elements is, then, a binding document, but it cannot be interpreted without recourse to the source documents and without application of the accepted principles of interpretation and without recogni-tion of the principle of analogy. The Need for Discernment Our pastoral service exists in the context of the "dialogue of salvation" and is guided by the document Essential Elements. This pastoral service, then, involves discernment. Every Christian, of course, has the obligation of trying to discern the action of God and the action of the spirit of evil. Our disi:ernment as heirs of the apostolic office in the Church, however, is beyond that personal, individual level. We bishops are charged by our very office to discern in the Church what is and what is not in keeping with the Gospel as it has been handed on in the Church. This discernment is twofold: to hold to what is good, and to reject what is evil. But this is no easy task. And so the document on the relationship of bishops and religious states: 168 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 Every authentic charism implies a certain element of genuine originality and of special initiative for the spiritual life of the Church. In'its surroundings it may appear trouble-some and may even cause difficulties since it is not always and immediately easy to recognize it as coming from the Spirit.~s Nor is true discernment a unilateral function. What is authentic discern-ment, after all, but an effort to recognize the true action and voice of the Holy Spirit? No real discernment is possible, then, without listening to the voice of the Spirit, who is superior both to bishops and religious, yet who works in both. Discernment includes careful weighing of and listening to the lived experience of religious, and especially the lived experience of the past twenty years during which the great body of religious have made heroic efforts to respond to the call of the council for reform and renewal.19 In keeping with this function of ecclesial discernment is the apostolic duty of correction or admonition. This is referred to only once in all the documents we have received. Yet we must honestly confront the challenge. In his letter to us the Holy Father puts it this way: In those cases, too, where individuals or groups, for whatever reason, have departed from the indispensable norms of religious life or have even, to the scandal of the faithful, adopted ~ositions at variance with the Church's teaching, ! ask you my brother bishops, sustained by hope in the power of Christ's grace and performing an act of authentic pastoral service, to proclaim once again the Church's universal call to conver-sion, spiritual renewal and holiness.20 We are not asked to condemn. We are asked to invite those relatively few among the larger number of faithful religious who may be living in conflict with the Church's norms or teaching, to walk together with us anew the journey of conversion, spiritual renewal and holiness of which we all stand in need. If bishops are called to show the humility of Christ in the exercise of their office, religious too are called to the same humility in recognizing possible mistakes and internal contradictions. We are called to a special pastoral service involving dialogue and ecclesial discernment. One final aspect of our mandate remains to be considered: the numerical decline of religious life. Of this the Holy Father says: In asking the commission to be of assistance to you in your pastoral ministry and responsibility, I know that it will be very sensitive to the marked decline in recent years in the numbers of young people seeking to enter religious life, particularly in the case of institutes of apostolic life. This decline in numbers is a matter of grave concern to me--a concern which I know that you and the religious also share.2~ One obvious reason for this concern is, of course, that the decline in num-bers of religious places in jeopardy the many indispensable apostolic works through which they have shaped and sustained the Church in the United States. But a far more important reason for concern about the decline in num-bers of those entering religious life is the prospect of losing the public witness of their consecrated life among us. It is their unique, public, ecclesial witness of The Service of Bishops to Religious the poverty, obedience and chastity of Christ which is their first and highest contribution to the Church. If we were not concerned about this decline it would be a statement that to us the religious life is but a trivial or marginal factor in the Church's life. We must, then, with utmost seriousness examine the reasons for this decline. But this will take time and professional assistance. Conclusion As we take up this great work of service to religious life, we do so in the awareness of our communion in faith and charity with the Successor of Peter. It is he who has called us to this service, and he accompanies us with his concern and his prayers. We do so also with a deep-felt sense of gratitude to and love for the religious in our dioceses and in the awareness that we are bishops "for them" but disciples "with them." Thus we have every confidence that rich fruit will attend our work since we believe that the Holy Spirit is at work in this enterprise precisely because it is an action of the Church. To us it may at times seem overwhelming. But we rely not on human strength or cleverness. We rely on Christ, who is ever with us and who strengthens our weakness by his power. NOTES ~Letter of Pope John Paul I1 to the Bishops of the United States, April 3, 1983, no. 3 2Christus Dominus, 7. 3Lumen Gentium, 4. 41bid., 7. ~Mutuae Relationes, 9c. qbid., 13c. 7Pope John Paul I1, Address to American Bishops, September 19, 1983. 8paul V1, Ecclesiam Suam, 14. 91bid., 113. tOlbid., 81. ttlbid., 83. ~21bid., 87. ~3Mutuae Relationes, 9d. ~4Lumen Gentium, 7. ~Ecclesiam Suam, 88. ~rEssential Elements, 4. ~qbid., 21. ~S Mutuae Relationes, 12. ~gSee Letter, 4; Essential Elements, 4. ~° Letter of Pope John Paul 3. , ~qbid., 4. A Call to Collegiality in the Service of Religious Pope John Paul H In his remarks to the bishops reproduced in the previous article, Archbishop Quinn termed this statement of Pope John Paul to American bishops to be "that important address." We have judged it useful, then, even though they have been widely published in newspapers, to present the remarks of the pope anew in their entirety for the convenience of our readers. Dear brothers in our Lord Jesus Christ: I have recently spoken to other groups of American bishops about two important aspects of the great mystery of the Church: the episcopate and the priesthood. I would now like to reflect with you on yet another special gift of God to his Church, and this gift is the religious life. So much is religious life a part of the Church, so intimately does it touch her constitution and her holiness, that it must form an integral part of the pastoral solicitude of the pope and the bishops, who have a unique responsibil-ity for the entire life of the Church, and are meant to be signs of her holiness. In speaking about religious life we are speaking about an ecclesial reality which concerns the bishops by reason of their very office. At every moment, but especially during the Holy Year of the Redemption, the Church offers the call to conversion to all her members, particularly to religious. This call to conversion goes out to religious so that they may acquire the full benefits of the redemption and be ever more faithful witnesses of that redemption; so that they may be ever more authentic channels of the redemp-tion for the people of God through their own spiritual vitality which, in the communion of saints, is a supernaturally effective contact with the redemp-tion; and so that through conversion they may live more faithfully the unity of the Church, which is itself the effect of the redemption and a participation in it. For this reason I wrote to all the bishops asking for their special pastoral 170 A Call to Collegiality / 171 service to the religious of the United States in the context of the Holy Year of the Redemption. In my letter I stated, "It is my earnest hope that the Holy Year of the Redemption will truly be for religious life a year of fruitful renewal in Christ's love. If all the faithful have a right--as they do--to the treasures of grace that a call to renewal in love offers, then religious have a special title to that right~" ~ The whole thrust of my initiative was formulated as an invitation, a call to be extended to religious, to open wide the doors of their hearts to the Redeemer. In this regard I wrote, "I ask you to invite all religious throughout your land, in my name and in your own name as bishops, in the name of the Church and in the name of Jesus, to seize this opportunity of the Holy Year to walk in newness of life, in solidarity with all pastors and faithful, along the path necessary for us all--the way of penance and conversion." This pastoral endeavor is of such importance that it could be fulfilled only by a full collegial commitment on the part of all the bishops of the United States. At that time I promised you my fraternal and prayerful support. I also named a commission headed by Archbishop John Quinn whose task it would be to assist you in the exercise of collegiality and to facilitate your pastoral work of "helping the religious of your country whose institutes are engaged in apostolic works to live their ecclesial vocation to the full." I am deeply grateful to the commission for the generosity and zeal with which they are striving to formulate a suitable program that will effectively assist the body of bishops who have the main responsibility in this matter. As guidelines for both the commission and yourselves in this important work, I approved a summary of the salient points of the Church's teaching on religious life prepared by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Since then I have also had the opportunity, as I had hoped, to speak personally with so many bishops about religious life, hearing their viewpoints and learning about their own devoted pastoral service to religious. I am deeply grateful to our Lord Jesus Christ that this initiative has been so zealously undertaken by the commission and by individual bishops, and that it is seen for what it is, an application--an extremely important application--of the principle of collegiality, ~a principle so forcefully enunciated by the Second Vatican Council. In proposing this initiative to your pastoral zeal, my first intention has been to affirm collegial responsibility for the state of religious life, which is intimately linked to the mystery of the Church and to the mystery of the episcopate. Religious need the support and assistance of the bishops in their lives of consecrated witness to the holiness of Christ and to the primacy of God. Your collegial collaboration is not only a means of giving general support to religious and of assisting them in solving particular problems that inevitably touch their lives, it also signifies an authentic functioning of collegiality, an "authentic and vital relationship between the episcopate and religious. The collegial service that you as bishops are asked to render to religious in the precise area of episcopal competence is, above all, to proclaim a call to 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 holiness, a call to renewal and a call to penance and conversion. In other words, in the name of the Redeemer to extend the call of the Holy -Year, asking for the greatest possible response of love. In my letter to you I men-tioned that "this call is linked in a particular way with the life and mission of religious . It affects them in a special way; it makes special demands on their lives, reminding them how much they are loved by Christ and his Church." This initiative of pastoral care for religious is one aspect of the great dialogue of salvation, which begins with an awareness of God's love, made visible in the incarnation, and leads to the fullness of salvation effected by this love. The whole dialogue of salvation is directed to the full acceptance, through metanoia, of the person of Jesus Christ. In the case of religious, as in the case of the faithful, the process is the same: In the very moment in which we bishops recognize our own need for conversion, the Lord asks us to go out to others--humble and repentant, yet courageous and without fear--to com-municate with our brothers and sisters. Christ wants to appeal through us, to invite and call his people, especially his religious, to conversion. The aim of all dialogue is conversion of heart. It is not my intention on this occasion to speak about all the essential elements of the Church's teaching on religious life, as described in my letter and in the document of the Sacred Congregation. I am convinced that you will continue to reflect on all of these points, which are taken from authentic sources, so as to be able to explain and promote them all. At this time I would like to emphasize only a few points intimately linked to the theme of conver-sion and holiness of life in the context of religious life and of the pastoral responsibility of the bishops who are "entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms, all the more so because the very indivisibility of their pastoral ministry makes them responsible for perfecting the entire flock" (Mutuae Relationes, 9,c). Bishops must proclaim the nature of religious life as teachers of the faith and representatives of the Church that guarantees the charism of religious. This proclamation is both an instruction for the people of God and an encouragement for the religious. In selecting certain aspects of religious life for special reflection, the notion of prayer stands out immediately. The new Code of Canon Law states that the' first and principal duty of all religious is the contemplation of things divine and constant union with God in prayer (see Canon 663, § 1). Th~ question of religious being united with God in prayer precedes the question of what. activity they will perform. The idea of prayer is again underlined as it touches the apostolate. The code insists that the apostolate of all religious consists primarily in the witness of their consecrated life, which they are bound to foster through prayer and penance (see Canon 637). All of this tells us something very profound about religious life. It speaks to us about the value of living for God alone, of witnessing to his kingdom and of. being consecrated to Jesus Christ. Through the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, religious consecrate themselves to God, personally ratifying and confirming all the commitments of their baptism. But even more important ig the divine action, the fact that God consecrates them to the glory of his Son. And he does this through the mediation of his Church, acting in the power of his Spirit, All of this emphasizes the esteem that we bishops must have for religious and for the immense contribution that they have made to the Church in the United States. And yet this contribution is more a contribution of what they are than of what they have done and are doing. In speaking of religious we must say that their greatest dignity consists in this, that they are persons individually called by God and consecrated by God through the mediation of his Church. The value of their activity is great, but the value of their being religious is greater still. Hence one of the bishop's contributions is to remind religious of their dignity and to proclaim their identity before the People of God. This enables the laity to understand more clearly the mystery of the Church, to which the religious offer so much. The ecclesial dimension is absolutely essential for a proper understanding of religious life. Religious are who they are because the Church mediates their consecration and guarantees their charism to be religious. Although their primary apostolate is to witness, their other apostolates involve a multiplicity of works and activities performed for the Church and coordinated by the bishops (see Canon 680). Since the value of the consecration of religious and the supernatural effi-cacy of their apostolates depend on their being in union with the Church--the entirety of which has been entrusted to the bishops' pastoral care for governing (see Ac 20:28}--it follows that bishops perform a great service to religious by helping them to maintain and deepen their union with the Church, and by assisting them to harmonize all their activities with the life of the Church. The fruitful living of the religious charism presupposes the faithful acceptance of the Church's magisterium, which in fact is an acceptance of the very reality and identity of the episcopal college united with the pope. The college of bishops, as the successor of the apostolic college, continues to enjoy the guidance of the Holy Spirit; the words of Jesus apply still today: "He who hears you hears me, and he who rejects you rejects me, and he who rejects me rejects him who sent me" (Lk I l:16). Venerable and dear brothers, in the dialogue of salvation I would ask you to speak to religious about their ecclesial identity and to explain to the whole People of God how religious are who they are only because the Church is what she is in her sacramental reality. And I would ask you to emphasize the special feminine role of women religious: in the Church, and personifying the Church as the spouse of Christ they are called to live for Christ, faithfully, exclusively, and permanently, in the consciousness of being able to make visible the spousal aspect of the Church's love for Christ. And may everyone, realize that the greatest misunderstanding of the 174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 charism of religious, indeed the greatest offense to their dignity and their persons, would come from those who might try to situate their life or mission outside its ecclesial context. Religious are betrayed by anyone who would attempt to have them embrace teaching against the magisterium of the Church who conceived them by her love and gave them birth in her liberating truth. The acceptance of the reality of the Church by religious and their vital union-- through her and in her--with Christ isan essential condition for the vitality of their prayer, the effectiveness of their service to the poor, the validity of their social witness, the well-being of their community relationships, the measure of the success of their renewal and the guarantee of the authenticity of their poverty and simplicity of life. And only in total union with the Church does their chastity become the full and acceptable gift which will satisfy the craving of their heartsto give themselves to Christ and to receive from him, and to be fruitful in his love. Dear brothers, through our collegial action, especially in the Holy Year of the Redemption, let us manifest our pastoral love in a special way to the religious of the United States. And let us lead the way in the sacrifice and love demanded by conversion. As bishops we must help ensure for this generation and for those to come that the magnificent contribution made by the religious of the United States to the mission of the Church will continue. But, above all, what is at stake in the collegial service of our pastoral love is to confirm the religious of America in their charism to be religious and to be ever more the expression of Christ's holiness in the mystery of the Church. May they live for Christ, as Mary lived for Christ, in renunciation, sacrifice and co-redemptive love, filling up "what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for his body, the Church" (Col 1:24). The first and principle duty that springs from their being religious will always be "the contemplation of things divine and constant union with Christian prayer" (Canon 663, § 1). Finally, for the benefit of all, let us recall those memorable words of Paul VI that apply to every age of the Church's life: "Do not forget, moreover, the witness of history: faithfulness to prayer or its abandonment is the test of the vitality or decadence of the religious life" (Evangelica Testificatio, 42). All of this is part of the ministry whereby we as bishops live the mystery of the Church, encouraging the religious, whom we love and for whom we live and are willing to die, to strive to become ever more "the very holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). The Call to the Renewal of Religious Life John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets teaches theology at Creighton University, and has written often on religious life both in these pages and elsewhere. His last article in Review for Religious appeared in the issue of November/December, 1981. Father Sheets may be addressed at the Jesuit Community of Creighton University~ California at 24th Street; Omaha, NE 69178. On June 22, 1983, the text entitled "Essential Elements in Church Teaching on Religious Life," prepared by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, was released. Accompanying the text was a letter of Pope John Paul II to the American bishops. In this letter the pope recalled the purpose of the Holy Year of the Redemption as a time devoted to special efforts for the renewal of the whole Church. In this context, he asked that religious, in particular the religious of the United States, review the experience of changes in their religious life over the past twenty years in order to consoli-date the positive developments and to eliminate what was not authentic. As a means to facilitate this process of discernment and renewal, the pope set up a commission of bishops, chaired.by Archbishop John Quinn of San Francisco. Nearly seven months separate the time I am writing from the time of that intervention. The events that have taken place over these months have a significance for the future of religious life in this country (one could in fact say, for the whole Church in the United States) that cannot be overestimated. Before I speak about the significance, it is necessary to review these events so as to get a sense of the process that is at work. The pope's intervention, as well as the text of Essential Elements, directed as they were to religious in the United States, caught them by surprise. It was unexpected, even though some said they sensed it was "in the air." Naturally the action prompted questions as to what lay behind it all. In particular, they. 175 176 / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1984 asked, why were American religious singled out? The immediate and spon-taneous public reactions were almost universally negative. The negative reactions of some came from their perception that the inter-vention took place without warning and that the text was prepared without proper consultation, ignoring the years of work on religious life that had been done on this side of the ocean. Many found this unilateral way of proceeding inappropriate at a time when the importance of communication is so highly valued. Other reactions stemmed from differences which were more substantial. These touched on understandings that concern the nature of religious life itself, whether and how it differs from lay life, and on the nature of authority within the Church. The contrast of "this-side-of-the-ocean" views was stressed, in contradistinction from "Roman" views, on the nature of law, of authority, of static and dynamic mind-sets. Where these objections were fueled with feminist positions the tone tookon even deeper notes of anger, resentmerit, suspicion and defiance. The press in the United States in general reported the pope's intervention in a critical way, finding it "typical" of his continued practice of "picking on the Church in America." The initial public reaction did not augur well for the plan the pope had in miiad. Ifanything, the situation now seems worse than it was before because it surfa(ed prominently many latent differences (and some not so latent) between American religious and Rome, as well as among religious themselves. The fact that what could have been a catastrophe took a more positive turn in the subsequent weeks and months is due mainly to the tact, wisdom and courage of._A__rchbishop Quinn and the members of his commission, together with their advisors, as well as the openness to dialogue that was demonstrated by rbpre-sentatives of the various religious groups. I would now like to give a brief overview of the work of the commission, then comment on the main thrust of the document Essential Elements, with particular reference to some of the problems facing religious life in the United States today. The Work of the Commission The exact purpose of the pope's intervention, as well as the nature of the commission's task, were not clear at the beginning, either to the members of the commission or to religious leaders. However, as the dialogue began and continued over the subsequent months, a sense of direction emerged. The first step was to meet with the two groups who officially represent religious in the United States.~ It is probably an understatement to say that the tone of both meetings was strained. In August, Archbishop Quinn met with the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. In his talk to them, he spoke of the vision which the Church has of religious life, the sense of the paschal mystery in the history of religious life here over the past twenty years, the appeal that the pope was making to the bishops, and the charge given to the commission. The Call to Renewal [ 177 After his talk the archbishop listened to the reactions of the assembly. They can be summarized under three headings. In the first place, many were highly critical of the document on essentials, finding it static rather than dynamic, monastic rather than apostolic, accenting vows rather than mission, embodying a "dubious ecclesiology," and being out of touch with the uniqueness of the American experience. Others had problems with the intervention itself. What was behind it? Why were Americans singled out? Why was there no consultation? Was it in reality a devious way to get at religious women? How did this affect groups which were international in membership? Finally there were reactions coming out of feminist issues, perceiving the whole affair as another instance of the male Church attempting to control women, a further evidence of paternalism, a continuation of the injustice of asking for service without granting full admission into ministry. In spite of the strained nature of the meeting, it concluded with a loud round of applause as a sign of gratitude and appreciation to Archbishop Quinn. Another member of the bishops' commission, Archbishop Thomas Kelly, O.P., met with the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, which also met in August. The problems voiced there had to do mainly with the manner in which the whole affair took place, its one-sided nature, without previous consulta-tion, seemingly ignoring all of the work that had gone into these various questions, alreadY. There was questioning concerning the purpose and the worthwhileness of what was being asked. In October, Archbishop Kelly met with the assembly of Consortium Per-fectae Caritatis. Their response was overwhelmingly positive. There was a basic hope that steps could be taken to renew religious life and unite the various organizations. At the same time it was feared that the result might be an intensification of division. They felt that the easy categorizing of the differ-ences that divide religious into conservative and liberal overlook the root of division, which comes from radically different notions of religious life, the vows, authority, law, the Church, and in. particular the attitude to the Holy See. These discordant views are found even within one and the same congrega-tion. The lack of unity within carries over then into recruitment of new voca-tions, as well .as into the formation of young religious, compounding the existing divisions, as well as effectively discouraging new vocations. Perhaps the most important step in this seres of stages to implement the mandate given to the commission took place on November 14, when Arch-bishop Quinn gave a report to the bishops at their annual conference. Since his address is reproduced elsewhere in this issue in its entirety, I shall limit myself to its main ideas. Archbishop Quinn brought out that the bishops are not called to something extraordinary. Rather it was a particular concretization of their pastoral responsibility, rooted in their episcopal office as set forth in Vatican II, and as encouraged and fostered in other Vatican documents. He 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 stressed the importance of what the Holy Father was asking from the bishops, not only for religious, but for the whole Church in the United Staies. Archbishop Quinn commented on Essential Elements, stressing both its binding force and also the fact that it does not exemp~t those who would be guided by it from interpretation and application in a prudential way according to particular circumstances. The bishops are called to exercise their pastoral responsibility in a spirit of dialogue. This involves listening. It also involves the apostolic duty of correction and admonition when necessary. The particular contribution of the bishops by virtue of their apostolic office is to prbvide the discernment for what is consonant with the life of the Church, and what is not. He called attention to the fact that the main concern is not numerical decline in the membership of religious communities, nor the fact that many worthwhile apostolic works will be lost. "But a far more important reason for concern about the decline in numbers of those entering religious life is the prospect of losing the public witness of the poverty, obedience and chastity of Christ which is their first and highest contribution to the Church." In order to remove the carrying out of the mandate from the level of exhortation to concrete steps, in the course of that same meeting of bishops a packet of material was given out by Archbishop Kelly to the bishops, with suggestions for ways to set this pastoral responsibility into action. A "time-line" was set. The bishops were asked to make a report to the pontifical commission by May 15, .1984. Attention was called also to the letter of Archbishop Mario Schierano, reminding all that February 2, 1984, was to be a Jubilee Day for Religious. On that day there will be a solemn eucharistic liturgy in St. Peter's Basilica, at which the religious who are present will renew their vows. Reviewing, then, the events of the past seven months, we see that one of the most significant-events in the contemporary Church is beginning to take shape. It could turn out to be the most important event for the Church in the United States in our time. What are the prospects for success? The Pontifical Commission has demonstrated an unusual combination of qualities. It has a genuine sense for what the pope is asking. Though there are pressures to tone down the call for genuine renewal, members of the commission have shown theological depth, an openness that is non-threatening, and have transmitted to their brother bishops the importance of the task which the Holy Father is asking of them. Up to the present most of the action has taken place among the religious who represent the various organizations; so far it has not reached down to touch the rank and file. But even on this level, after the initial edginess there has been a turn to a more positive approach. The Pope Calls In his talk to the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, Archbishop Kelly told of an experience that took place when some of the American bishops made their The Call to Renewal / 179 ad limina visit. Someone, referring to the papal intervention, asked: "What is this all about?" The pope reflected quietly for a few moments, then said: "During the Holy Year every Christian is called to conversion. The bishops of the United States are to call religious to conversion." He paused, then added: "Let me refine this a bit. You are being called to mutual conversion. When two people are mutually converted they turn to one another. There is great pos-sibility here." There is no hidden agenda here. Pope John Paul is not asking for more studies or workshops. He is not asking simply for renewal, nor is he asking simply that the bishops do their job. He is asking that renewal be brought about through the experience of corporateness that is of the very nature of the Church. "There is great possibility here." The intervention really should not come as a surprise. His pontificate has exhibited two main characteristics: an effort to carry out the directives of Vatican II, and a determination to exhort, in season and out, those who have leadership roles in the Church, bishops, priests, religious, to live up to the fullness of their vocation. The words of St. Paul can easily be applied to the pope: "There is the responsibility that weighs on me every day, my anxious concern for the congregations" (2 Co I 1:28). "Even if I did wound you by the ¯ ,tter I sent, I do not now regret it. ! may have been sorry for it when I saw that the letter had caused you pain, even if only for a time; but now I am happy, not that your feelings were wounded but that the wound led to a change of heart" (2 Co 7:8,9). What the pope is looking for, then, is a change of heart. He describes as the occasion for his letter the call to renewal which has gone out to all the faithful during this Holy Year. "In this extraordinary Holy Year which has just begun, the whole Church is seeking to live more intensely the mystery of redemption. She is seeking to respond more faithfully to the immense love of Jesus Christ the Redeemer of the world" (Letter to the Bishops, April, 1983). This is the call to the faithful. Within that universal call, the pope has issued the special call to American bishops and religious to join in the common effort for renewal. On September 5, 1983, at Castelgandolfo the pope spoke to twentyh-three American bishops who were making their ad limina visit. He called the bishops once again to a consciousness of their role: as individuals, to be a living sign of Jesus Christ, and collegially to lead the Church as servant pastors. He returned to the theme of conversion. ~We'bishops experience the need for conversion-- deep conversion, sustained conversion, renewed conversion . And you. must call your people to conversion, especially in this Holy Year of the Redemption . I pointed out its special relevance for religious in the letter thatoI wrote to all the bishops of the United States at Easter." Reviewing these events over the past seven monihs, there is one inescapa-ble conclusion: it is all of one piece. This inherent unity comes from the insight rooted in faith that through all of God's activity in time there is only one call; it is the call to conversion. While it is a call directed to everyone in the Church, 180 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 those who have leadership roles have special responsibility to open themselves to this call. These are the bishops, the priests, the religious. In answering this call, we are to help one another, through the various gifts God has given to different members. In particular, the pope is asking bishops and religious to collaborate in this mutual call to conversion. Essential Elements in Church Teaching on Religious Life The call to renewal is situated, as we have seen, within the context of the Holy Year. This call is brought into sharper focus through two other docu-ments: the pope's letter of April 3, 1983, and the text called "Essential Elements in Church Teaching on Religious Life" of May 31, 1983. Both of these were made public on June 22. The call to renewal, however, at this particular point in our history takes the special form of discernment. Tremendous changes have taken place in religious life over the past twenty years. The purpose of Essential Elements is to provide the authentic norms for discerning what is genuine in those changes from what is spurious. There can be no renewal without truth. The document sets down underlying characteristics that by their very nature characterize true religious life. Not everything in the document, however, has the same intrinsic weight. Since it is a compilation of earlier papal and conciliar statements, one has to go to the original sources to determine the relative value of each part. There are, therefore, all sorts of shadings in the very term essentials, ranging from what is intrinsically constitutive of religious life to what is highly appropriate. The total range of meaning from intrinsic necessity to what is highly appropriate i~ thematized in one word, consecration. It is the theme that unites Essential Elements with the pope's letter in which he calls religious to renewal in this Holy Year when we recall the mystery of redemption. "By their very vocation, religious are intimately linked to the redemption. In their consecra-tion to Jesus Christ they are a sign of the redemption that he accomplished." Because of its centrality, then I would like to comment on the scriptural and theological implications of consecration. The word always describes a hallowing that takes place when some person or thing is enveloped by the power of the Holy Spirit to give the person or thing a totally new meaning. The primary meaning of consecration is the change in meaning that takes place in the very heart of reality itself when the unredeemed world is tranformed into the New Creation through Christ's redemptive death. The world may look the same before and after. But the very heart of reality has been changed. The paschal mystery through the power of the Spirit has enveloped the whole of reality to change it in its very roots. In the language of Paul, it is a "metamorphosis," a change of structure. "For anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new one is here" (2 Co 4:17). In the first sense, then, consecration means the hallowed transformation at The Call to Renewal/ 11tl the heart of reality itself. "Through him God chose to reconcile the whole universe to himself, making peace through the shedding of his blood upon the cross, to reconcile all things whether on earth or in heaven, through him alone" (Col 1:20). Here we are on the level of ontology, of reality itself, as it undergoes a transformation, when it is enveloped by the New Being of the resurrected Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. This is the most radical sense of consecration. Reality which has been desecrated through original and personal sin has undergone a radical consecration. The transformation at the heart of reality finds its epiphany in the Church in a visible, tangible way, as the communion of those who have been conse-crated. For this reason, St. Paul addresses members of the Church as "saints." But the Church is not only the manifestation of this mystery. It is the embodi-ment in time and space, in human flesh, of the paschal mystery itself, with its power to continue the mission of consecration. It is not only a hallowed community, but hallowing. There is a second level of consecration, presupposing and flowing from the first. The radical change in the very heart of reality which gives us a share in the very consecration of Christ himself demands a change in the way we live our lives. Strictly speaking Christian conduct is not based on moral or ethical laws but on the implications that flow from the transformation that has taken place in the very being of Christians by the fact of their consecration. Paul speaks of the new way of life as based on their new mind. "Think of God's mercy, my brothers, and worship him, I beg you, in a way that is worthy of thinking beings, by offering your living bodies as a holy sacrifice, truly pleasing to God. Do not model yourselves on the behavior of the world around you, but let your behavior change, molded by your new mind" (Rm 12:1,2). Finally the term consecration is used in Scripture to describe a special kind of vocation. It involves a special call by God to an individual to share in his redemptive design, and a free acceptance on the part of the one called, which can be given only in faith. It involves the recasting of ihe designs one might have for his own life in order to shape his life according to the designs of God. Jeremiah describes his own call as an act of consecration: "The word of Yahweh was addressed to me, saying, 'Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you came to birth 1 consecrated you; I have appointed you as a prophet to the nations" (Jr 1:4,5). Paul alludes to this passage when he describes his own call. "Then God, who had specially chosen me while I was still in my mother's womb, called me through his grace and chose to reveal his Son in me, so that I might preach the Good News about him to the pagans" (Ga 1:15,16). Jesus uses the language of consecration to describe his oven role in the Father's redemptive design. He describes himself as the one whom "the Father has consecrated and sent into the world" (Jn 10:36). He prays that his disciples share this consecration through their own role in the redemptive design: "Con-secrate them in the truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into "11~2 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 the world, and for their sake 1 consecrate myself, so that they too may be consecrated in truth" (Jn 17:17-!9). Though the full act of consecration will take place at Pentecost, Christ, while still in the redemptive "moment" of his hour, performs the act of consecration through the gift of the Spirit. "He breathed on them and said: 'Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are ]'orgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained" (Jn 20:22,23). In this last ~ense of the word, consecration exhibits the following character-istics. There is the overall sense of the mysterious counsel God has, his design for salvation. He deliberately chooses some to share in the effective reaiization of his design. In turn, when they respond with openness to God's will for them, their lives take on a meaning and orientation that relativizes their personal desires in order that they°be completely dedicated to their role in God's redemptive design. In our contemporary language, their lives become sym-bolic, that is, weighted with a meaning and power that comes from the Spirit. The word consecration, then, has three interrelated meanings. It refers to the radical reorientation of reality as it undergoes a tranformation through the redemptive death and resurrection of Christ. The community of those who through baptism and faith have been transformed is the Church. In the second place, this consecration at the root of their being overflows into a new mode of behavior, as "becomes the saints." Thirdly, the term also describes what is meant by devotion in its original meaning, that is, a life completely vowed to carry out God's purpose. Christian tradition, has used the term consecration in this last sense.to speak of a life dedicated to God through the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. This is the sense that the word has in the document Essential Elements. In order to show the centrality of the theme of consecration in the docu-ment it would be necessary to give a summary of the whole text, which is not possible in this short paper, nor does it fit my purpose. "Consecration is the basis of religious life" (n. 5). Everything else in the document flows from that one sentence. Each way of speaking of consecration in some way points to the New Creation brought into being by Christ's redemptive act. No aspect can be taken independently from the others. The mode of consecration which we call religious life presupposes and lives within the transformed, hallowed commu-nity, which is the Church. If it is taken outside the context of the hallowed community, it becomes desacralized, and takes on a secularistic meaning. The consecrated life of the counsels is not of human origin, like other societies. It is called forth through the Spirit to be the symbol, or the epiphany, of a life lived in a redemptive mode, devoted, or vowed, to this redemptive mode. The redemptive mode envelopes the whole of one's being, but it crystal-lizes under the form of the three vows of poverty, chastity, obedience. In each of these, the paradox of the redemptive mystery is symbolized, a paradox of presence and absence, emptiness and fullness, death and resurrection, limita- The Call to Renewal / 1113 tions that are freeing; a paradox of loss of self and finding of oneself, being set apart and being more deeply united. To develop these remarks would entail writing a treatise on the theology of religious life. It is enough for our purposes here to set them down as aspects of the rich meaning of the consecrated religious life. Problems in Renewal In the first part of this paper I described the circumstances surrounding the pope's intervention, and his call to religious to evaluate the experience of the past twenty years in order to benefit by what is genuine, and to abandon what is not. To give this program of renewal a definite shape he appointed a commission which was to animate the other bishops in the assumption of their pastoral responsibility, to foster dialogue of religious among themselves, and to act as general facilitator to oversee the whole process. The norms that form the authentic basis of religious life flow from the nature of consecration itself. The experience of the past twenty years is to be evaluated then against the intrinsic norms that flow from the very nature of consecration. To the degree that they deepen it, they are valid, or on the other side of the coin, to the degree that they evacuate the intrinsic nature of the consecration, they are invalid. Reading the responses to the pope's call, I find there are mainly two points of view. Some stress the fact that the overall experience has been genuine, with minor deviations here and there. They feel that the negative picture comes largely from the media and from ultraconservative groups who have the ear of the Vatican. They feel that beneath the call to renewal is a negative view on the part of Rome of religious life as experienced in this country. As a consequence, they see the whole of the American experience as put on trial; for this reason, they tend to take a defensive and uncritical, even a triumphalistic posture. Others feel that the experience of the past twenty years is very mixed. In fact they see points of view expressed regarding religious life which are incom-patible .with each other. These clashes are to be found in essential points such as authority, relationship to the Church, the nature of the vows, the purpose of religious life itself. For these the future of religious life in this country is beset with problems. Perhaps each of these groups can learn something from the other. The first cannot ignore the obvious fact of destructive pluralism existing within religious life. The second has to make the effort to see the positive developments that have taken place. And boih groups should be mindful of the fact that thousands of religious have already gone through this difficult process of evaluating changes, and have taken the path leading through the narrow gate as they carry out their mission in a redemptive mode of life. In order to get some kind of a handle on the main problems facing the implementation of this call to renewal, I have divided them up into several categories. 11~4 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 1. The Nature of the Call to Renewal The main problem of course, is that we are being called to a mode of being, not simply to some kind of program. It is the call on which all the prophets floundered, and which brought Christ to his death. If it were a call that could be easily translated into plans for building a society where peace and justice would reign, it would have a ring to it. But it is a call to "be still and know that I am God." There is the problem of the various audiences to whom the call is addressed. Some will remain indifferent to it, others antagonistic, while still others will offer varying degrees of cooperation. There are the practical problems also to be faced in the actual implementa-tion of the process on the part of the bishops. In his address to the American bishops at their recent meeting in Washington, Archbishop Quinn called upon them to give quality time to this pastoral need. How can they find this ''quality time" when they are already overburdened? How can religious leaders also find the quality time that they will have to devote to the process? 2. The Faith Perspective The realities described as the New Creation, the New Being, Redemption, consecration, the Church herself as consecrated and consecrating commu-nity- these are realities that can only be perceived by faith. Thus the values involved in this call to renewal also belong only to the realm of faith. Imperceptibly in the life of all of us, personally and collectively, norms and values that are based on the social sciences come in to compete with, and even conterfeit those that can be perceived only in faith. The mystery that is the Church is then reduced to social and political categories prevalent at this point in history. The notions of authority and obedience lose the meaning which Paul encompassed in his short phrase, "to obey in the Lord," and take on the pattern of mere social dynamics. The talking at cross-purposes that takes place so often in this area of renewal comes from the fact that basic faith-assumptions are not shared. 3. The lack of Integration of Spiritual Hfe and Mission Some have brought up the objection that the document on essentials is "monastic," and thus not really applicable to apostolic religious. That is sim-plistic. The document, in fact, states that it is addressed specifically to apostolic religious. It stresses that unless mission is rooted in and energized by union with God, it remains sterile and lifeless as far as its ultimate value for the kingdom of God. The interrelatedness of consecration on the three levels we spoke of above is essential: a life that is transformed; its consequence in a transformation in behavior; and the special call to live the consecrated life in a redemptive mode. St. Ignatius, to whom many look as one of the founders of apostolic religious life, was convinced that there was only one source of The Call to Renewal/ 185 apostolic energy: union with God. "The means which unite the human instrument with God and so dispose J.t that it may be wielded dexterously 0y his divine hand are more effective than those which equip it in relation to men" (Constitutions, 813). In recent years mission seems to have been self-consciously directed mainly to concerns of peace and j~ustice. Yet, without using those terms, these have been among the goals of all apostolic work from the beginning of Christianity. In our own American history religious have accomplished a moral miracle in the area of justice. In the course of a hundred years they have been the principle "agents of change" who enabled millions of Catholic immigrants, second-class citizens, to take their place within the mainstream of American life. There is nothing that parallels this marvel in the whole of Catholic history. One cannot help but be struck by the emphasis given in the mission statements of so many revised constitutions in the setting of priorities for the pursuit of prace and justice. When such a pursuit is rooted in faith and animated by charity, it ought to have the highest of priorities. At the same time, do we not actually find here a subtle source of an actual separation of "~mission" from the "spiritual life"? This can take place in two ways, both of which are devices of the infamous Screwtape portrayed by C. S. Lewis. In Ch. 6 of The Screwtape Letters, he points out that virtues grow through being in touch with concrete, particular realities. The effort of the devil, then, is to move the target soul from concreteness to abstractions, to push in the direction of "states of mind," generalities, imaginative constructs which have nothing to do with reality, which are only simulations of virtue and not the real thing. In Ch. 7, Screwtape advises his apprentice devil to lead a person to reli-gious idealism, and then, gradually, lead him to subordinate his religion to "the cause." Then Christianity simply becomes a means to accomplish "the cause." Once the devil can make a movement become the end and faith a means, then he has won. "Provided that meetings, pamphlets, policies, movements, causes, and crusades matter more to him than prayers and sacraments and charity, he is ours." The more noble the cause, the more subtle the counterfeit. It is possible that the spiritual life itself will be dried up, even as there is increased insistence on the mission of peace and justice---especially where these have become abstractions, or where they have become an end and faith a means. 4. The Feminist Movement At our present stage of history in the Western world, we are caught in the strong winds of the feminist movement. It is so complex, has so many ramifi-cations, is so fraught with emotion, so well organized, has such momentum, is so comprehensive in scope that it defies analysis and evaluation. One thing is certain. Its potential for good is matched by its potential to become yet another disastrous polarizing movement in the history of the Church. The movement itself has undergone a transformation over the past two decades) In its initial stages it concerned itself with violation of basic human 1116/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 rights. It worked to overcome the economic, social, and cultural injustices suffered by women. In very short order, it moved from those concerns to other demands that were far more radical, such as "control over one's bo~ly," the o~;'erthrow of sex roles in child nurturing, freedom from all coercion, whether biological or physical. Gradually the movement took on the character of an all-embracing philosophy, while still claiming to be a social and political movement. As a philosophy, it pronounces on every aspect of reality: the meaning of God, what it means to be human, the nature of language, the meaning of sexuality. Beginning as a movement aimed at the rectification of economic and social injustices, it assumed in the course of a few years the form of an ideology. While the feminist movement has many repercussions within the Church, most visibly, perhaps, in the matter of language that is perceived as sexist, the most neuralgic area is surely the one concerned with ministry. It is not possible to untangle this problem here. But it is in this area in particular that the philosophical assumptions of the feminist movement come to the fore. Under-lying the agitation for women's ordination, for example, is the assumption that all social f~nctions are interchangeable, coming from a human nature that is, for the most part, undifferentiated according to male or female gender. Once that philosophical assumption is granted, then there is no intrinsic reason why any social role or function should be predicated on differences of gender. The fact that priesthood in the Catholic Church may be the one function that challenges this basic assumption makes the situation to be all the more polariz-ing. The problem, in the eyes of most of the people involved, is seen to be one of justice. In reality, the problem lies in basic philosophical assumptions. Connected with the philosophical assumptions is the sense that difference in function can be changed by the pressure of political, social or economic measures. Yet the fact that priesthood is a sacrament, and as such does not come from human invention but from Christ, challenges the basic assumption that ministry is merely function attached to human nature as such. In fact, the question about ordination is a theological question about the nature of the sacramental sign involved in orders. Specifically, the theological question is whether the sign by its nature is exclusively masculine or not. Like all theologi-cal questions, it has to be resolved through theological method. It is not answered by administrative fiat, nor by increased agitation. We are faced, then, with irreconcilable assumptions which go beyond the possibility of the simple rectification of social injustices. If all social functions are simply functional, and as such interchangeable, then there is no way to resist the image of the power-hungry, threatened, masculine clerics holding on, like beleaguered defenders of the castle, to their traditional status. If, on the other hand, the question hasto do with a sacramental sign, not the product of human creation, then the question is theological, and has to be approached with the method proper to any theological question, and there is no way that the pope or anyone else, can short-circuit this process. The Call to Renewal I have taken the time to comment on the feminist issues because they condition what is heard by so many when they hear this call to renewal. The conditioning is such that, for them, the call to renewal is only an aggravation of already open wounds. Is there any way out of this stormy impasse? Not within the foreseeable future. Chesterton compared certain movements to a fast-moving train~ The faster the train is going, the harder it is to jump off: "The very fact of some social or political or artistic movement going quicker and quicker means that fewer people have the courage to move against it. And at last nobody will make a leap for real intellectual liberty." This is true of the radical feminist movement. It accelerates so rapidly because it is fueled with what the philos-opher Nietzsche has called ressentiraent. This is group-emotion that is the fusion of anger, hurt, envy, resentment, the desire for vengeance. It is fed by the group-memory of a long history of injustice. At the same time, Nietzsche described the inevitable results of ressentiment. It leads to division, hatred, polarization. It desires, not equality, but the power to crush its enemies. Only genuine conversion on the personal and collective level can take the poison out of a movement, can purify it and raise it to become a movement for justice animated by the Holy Spirit. 5. "The Essential" and the "Highly Appropriate" As has been all too evident in media reports following the publication of Essential Elements, the question of religious garb remains one of the most sensitive issues. The term essentials is not to be taken univocally, as if every-thing in the document is equally constitutive of religious life. The range of the term is wide. It goes from the intrinsically constitutive, which belongs to the nature of consecration, to corollaries, which flow more or less from these constitutive principles. Even among the corollaries there are levels--from what is closely related to the intrinsic principles and inseparable from them, to those that are. highly appropriate, but without the same intrinsic inseparability. The matter of religious garb falls under the category of the highly appropriate. There are two extreme positions in this .question. One dismisses the need for an exterior sign such as the religious habit as irrelevant, or even as counter-productive. The other absolutizes religious garb to the point where its necessity is identified as intrinsic to, and inseparable from, religious life itself. Both positions are faulty. When we describe wearing an external sign of consecra-tion as belonging to those aspects of religious life that are highly appropriate, this is not to be looked on as a compromise position. The term is used to point out that there is an inescapable logic in the progression from one level of consecration to another as it seeks its symbolic fullness. The fundamental consecration that lies in the transformation of one's being manifests itself through deeds which are holy. The consecration that describes a special vocation to be the instrument of God's redemptive design 11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 shows itself in the concentration and centering of one's whole life around that role. The prophets, as well as Christ himself, performed symbolic actions to manifest in striking ways the total symbolism of their lives, brought about by their consecration. Those who live consecrated lives may not be called upon to perform such isolated symbolic acts. However, religious garb becomes a sign that all their actions are clothed with a symbolic value. What to the public eye is a secular activity takes on the aspect of a sacred act when it is seen contextualized by a religious sign such as a habit. While this is so, it would be a mistake to put this public sign on the same level as the intrinsic principle.s of religious life. There can be compelling reasons why the inner logic of the sign-value of consecration stops short of the full symbolism of the habit. These reasons can be justified, for example, from particular circumstances of the apostolate, or from personal reasons that have sufficient gravity. However, even those who for legitimate reasons do not wear the religious garb would surely grant that there is a consistency, at least in the abstract, in desiring that consecration manifest its symbolic nature as fully as possible) This issue continues to divide religious, both those belonging to different congregations and those within the same congregation. In responding to the pope's call to renewal, there should be a reassessment of the implications of symbolic fullness, and, at the same time, a willingness to recognize circumstan-ces that can justify exceptions without making an individual to be any less a religious. Toward the Future What does the future hold for religious life in this country? There are some things which are predictable, and others remain in the realm of the unpredictable. Among the predictable elements is a continued decline in numbers, especially in congregations of religious women. This comes from two factors: the present small number of novices entering, and the steady rise of the median age. This decline will carry with it many side effects. Ministry will tend to be less and less corporate, and, at the same time, take on more and more diversity. Community life will also be affected, taking its concrete circumstances from the diversity of ministries. Some religious congregations will surely disappear entirely, not because they have been unfaithful to their call, but because in God's providence they have served their purpose. While this prospect naturally evokes fear and sad-ness, there is also the ground for that joy which comes from the awareness of having been faithful to one's call. At the same time that these predictable developments take place, we also face the unpredictable. With the pope's intervention, the setting up of the The Call to Renewal pontifical commission, and the implementation of renewal through the pas-toral assistance of the bishops, a new process has been set in motion which is unprecedented in the history of religious life. In his own pastoral concern as Shepherd of the Universal Church, the Holy Father has called upon bishops and religious to minister to one another after the manner of the special gifts given to each. The goal is mutual conversion, which will overflow in its effects into the whole Church. I quoted the words of the Holy Father when he spoke to some of our American bishops. He said, "There is great possibility here." But looking at the hard realities, can we say there is any reasonable hope that these rich possibili-ties will be realized to any significant degree? The answer to that question depends on many contingencies. In the first place it depends on whether the bishops and the leaders of religious congregations are convinced of the critical nature of the present moment in religious life in this country, and of the high priority to be given to assisting in its renewal. Without that conviction, compliance will be either token or one of complete indifference. The significance of the present moment must also be transmitted to the individual members of the various congrega-tions by those who have leadership roles. Then ways have to be found to bring together the two aspects of renewal: personal conversion, and discernment between authentic and inauthentic change in religious life. It is unlikely that this "great possibility" will be accomplished through the multiplication of more meetings. Most religious, as well as bishops, could not bear the thought of another round of meetings in which they would repeat what they have h~ard a dozen times already. There is a need for a new format, one that would provide the setting to reach a genuine spiritual freedom in the Lord. Perhaps the bishops could make extended retreats with religious superiors so that together, in an atmosphere of faith and prayer, they could come to a better understanding of one another, as well as a sense of what the Lord is asking. Conclusion At this point in our history it is also important to recall the debt we owe to those religious who have served the Lord and the Catholics in this country so well, and who now, like Anna and Simeon, enter into the sunset of their lives. They were the educators, nurses, catechists, administrators who, more than any other single factor, brought the Church into the twentieth century, and allowed Catholics to take their place in the ranks of every profession. In those days sisters fostered vocations to the priesthood and brotherhood, and priests directed young women to enter into religious life. That partnership has been shaken, at times, even lost, and at this juncture almost always exists in tension. Could not our corporate response to the pope's call heal those relationships, and call us once again to mutual trust and collaboration? If the pope's intention could be realized even to some partial degree, then 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 could the shepherd's words in Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale be fittingly applied: "Now bless thyself; thou rneetest with things dying. I with things new-born." NOTES mThere are many associations of religious men and women in the United States. They are listed in the National Catholic Directory and in the Catholic Almanac. The two which officially represent religious are the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), approved in 1962, and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM), established in 1960. Other organizations with significant membership are the Consortium Perfectae Caritatis, dating from 1971, and The Institute on Religious Life, founded in 1974. 2See "The Place of Women as a Problem in Theological Anthropology," Karl Lehmann, Communio: International Catholic Review, Fall, 1983, pp. 219-239. 3Some additional observations are in place. In those congregations which have definitely opted as communities to keep the religious habit, exceptions would be less common and would be made in consultation with superiors. Also, considering the situation of so many religious today in the United States who do not wear the religious garb, it would seem that conditions are such that a return to the habit in the foreseeable future is practically impossible. Christos Anest~ The lily's silent blare In satin quiet glare And noiseless emerald flare Heralds the peaceful flow Of light becoming glow In the hearts of all who know: The final drop of madness Turns melody from sadness To triumphant gladness Through the mortal progress Of transforming, transformed flesh For the dew-lit, morning fresh, Filling chests with heaviness Of gaiety, joy, and case, Erupting in release-- Sighing peace. Dale P. Wunderlich St. Cletus Rectory 2705 Zumbehl Rd. St. Charles, MO 63301 Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life A. Paul Dominic, S.J. Father Dominic has been focusing his research on aspects of religious life. His last article in these pages appeared in the issue of July/August, 1981. He may beaddressed at Satyodayam; No. 12-5-33; Secunderabad 500 017; India. Apocalyptic? I remember once heating an aged brother, with a mind of his own, expressing himself against the use of high-flown words in religious litera-ture. He mentioned as an example the word eschatological used in connection with religious life. He went on to say with approval and delight that Ordinal Hume said somewhere in his book Search for God that he knew nothing of what eschatological meant. One wonders in what context the cardinal made the remark! Anyhow, one of the ideas regarding religious life brought to the fore by Vatican II is undoubtedly its eschatological dimension. It would be unwise to fight shy of new terminology that may appear even outlandish, especially when the newvocabulary conceives and gives birth to new ideas. The new, possibly offending, word that is heresought to b¢ associated with religious life is akin to eschatological. The eschatological is the domain of the apocalyptic. The apocalyptic concerns the literary form of the eschatological message and serves as its medium. The apocalyptic therefore comes to mean: the revelation of the hidden designs of God destined to be realized in the ultimate future in prelude to the establishment of his eternal reign. There are many bizarre elements in the apocalyptic that are esoteric; but its spiritual intent is its essence, and as such is a matter of common interest. It is identified with the present urgent hope tending to the final triumph of God. A serious and earnest believer should not be oblivious of the fact that the final biblical revelation is an apocalyptic,~ namely the Apocalypse of John, that keeps urging the faithful to hold out with the sure hope of victory because even now 191 199 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 they can hear the echo of the song of victory in heaven: "Alleluia! The reign of the Lord our God almighty has begun" (Rv 19:6). From the Eschatologieal to the Apocalyptic Before developing the apocalyptic vision of religious life, it may be helpful for purposes of clarification to set down the allied idea of the eschatological nature of religious life. Vatican II gave some clear teaching on this matter. According to Lumen Gentium: ¯. the religious state by giving its members greater freedom from earthly cares more adequately manifests to all believers the presence of heavenly goods already possessed here below3 Gaudium et Spes added another eschatological note regarding religious life, viewing it as giving "clear witness to the desire for a heavenly home and to keep that desire green among the human family."3 Post-Vatican II literature on religious life has given expression to the same doctrine in some form or other with varying emphases. For instance we read in R. Voillaume, a prolific author on religious life: ¯. the religious has to bear witness among men to the reality of the kingdom of God; for men, being busy with the things of this world, need to have the invisible realities of the kingdom made visible and tangible for them by their being embodied in other human lives . 4 The religious life is a reflection of the kingdom of GOd, not only in its eschatological sense of something yet to come, but also in the other sense of something already invisibly present among men.~ However much one may appreciate the validity of the insight into the eschatological character of religious life, there are certain misgivings expressed in connection with it that are not easily brushed aside. It deals with a future which is certain, and yet is so distant that it tends to slip and fade away from the mental horizon. The answer to this objection is not simply that there is an eschatological trait in man's nature as such. True enough, as Viktor E. Franld says: It is a peculiarity of man that he can only live by looking to the future--sub specie aeternitatis. And this is his salvation in the most difficult moments of his existence, although he sometimes has to force his mind to the task.6 But it is not pointless to ask what will assist him and even force him to his eschatological task in the ordinary course of his life. The answer to the objec-tion is neither that the distant future has its preliminary realization appearing as an earnest in the present.7 For the truly eschatological tendency consists in a tension to the future, a tension experienced in the present and towards the future. Speaking of heavenly goods already possessed here below reveals no such dynamism toward the future but rather denotes a static and erroneous conception of existence. Further, the eschatological aspect of religious life is often remarked in relation to the Church in such a way that religious life is Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life / 193 understood as only a sign of the eschatological dimension of the Church, as though the eschatological significance does not affect the core of religious life itself. Surely religious life cannot project the eschatological dimension of the Church without itself experiencing the eschatological drive; but to this a~pect little or no attention is paid. Last but not least, the eschatological consideration of religious life is narrowly limited to the discussion on celibacy, though each evangelical counsel has an eschatologieal dynamism. All this, doubtless, accounts for the apathy in terms of which the eschatological view is ignored as innocuous, or even an inoffensive notion, as J. B. Metz says,8 without any practical validity. Thus the eschatology of religious life has come in many minds to denote something vague, distant, static and theoretical. According to Karl Rahner, religious life has an eschatological character: not simply because life in accordance with the counsels is an anticipation of the existence that awaits us in heaven . Still, the counsels can and should be regarded as witnesses to the last things, inasmuch as they~objeetify and manifest the faith that trust-ingly aspires after the things to come, which will crown the grace received in this world.9 Even this formulation of the eschatological aspect of religious life is not such as to dispel the disaffection felt towards the eschatological outlook; indeed, it:cannot be said to be completely free from the limitations pointed out earlier in the .prevalent understanding of the eschatologieal. This observation, if valid, is -suggestive of the very inadequacy so often met in expression of the idea of the eschatologieal. If the eschatological idea is not to remain merely a legitimate, though ineffective idea, but also a dynamic, working principle, it must be brought to life by what may be called "apocalyptic inspiration." To put it somewhat differently, the eschatological idea is an ideal goal which can be realized only by the experience of an "apocalyptic goal"--to use the expres-sion of Metz.~° The sense of future hope that is eschatology can be kept alive only by the corresponding sense of present, uncompromising urgency that is apocalypse. The apocalyptic urgency that we would like to discern in religious life is something like the experience of Alan Paton, a white attorney-at-law, in his lifelong work for the South African natives that led to his martyrdom. His basic experience was not one of moral striving but of inner impulse, not .one of indifferent outlook but of interior constraint, as he noted in his testament: I shall no longer ask myself if this or that is expedient, but Only if it is right. I shall do this, not because I am noble or unselfish, but because life slips away, and because I need for the rest of my journey a star that will not play false to me, a compass that will not lie. I shall do this not because I am a negrophile and a hater of my own, but because I cannot find it in me to do anything else. I am lost when I balance this agair~st that; I am, lost when I ask if this is safe . Therefore I shall try to do what is right, and to speak what is true. I do this not because I am courageous and honest, but because it is the only way to end the conflict of my deepest soul. I do it because I am no longer able to aspire to the highest with one part of myself, and to deny it with another. I do not wish to live like that, I would rather die than live like that.~ 19ll/"Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 The invaluable experience of Paton regarding his life was not so much a determination made with deliberation, as an o existential uncontrollable urgency, arising in the depths of his being, and directed to the future. Some similar passion-ought to surge in the heart of religious, creating in them a dynamism to rise and break into the eschatological atmosphere., The Apocalypti~ in Religious Life What exactly is the new dimension in religious life that has been termed here apocalyptic? It is something that approximates the spiritual experience :of Jesus which he was keen on sharing with his co-religionists who were so eager for the final intervention of God. With the early and rather sudden enlighten-ment in the temple that he had to be busy with his Father's affairs (see Lk 2:41-50), he came to discern more and more the sure movement of his Father in the midst of his people, till he found himself proclaiming the Lord's Year of Favor (see Lk 4:16-19). He was persuaded by the'power of the Spirit in him that the providential era of salvation had begun to unfold; and so he heralded the good news that the kingdom of God was imminent and indeed breaking in (see Mk 1:15)~ By this he meant to declare that, with the arrival of the "zero hour," God was now 'addressing men more immediately and confronting them more urgently than ever before, thus precipitating an unprecedented oppor-tunity of salvation, He could therefore tell unsuspecting individuals: "If yoi~ only.knew what God is offering" (Jn 4:10). When he made known his message of the kingdom, Jesus was actually interpreting, in prophetic fashion, the prevalent situation in terms of his ~,ision of God. However there was a difference between his messianic message and the ¯ prophetic oracles of old. The prophets had held out hope of the ultimate future that would come one day; but Jesus announced that the eschaton of the prophecies--the future without a future--had begun to emerge as a present reality, had just become a nascent phenomenon. He was delighted when he found some who welcomed this new revelation of God (see Lk 10:21):" On [he,contrary he was amazed to see people who would not recognize the dominion of God making inroads upon their life, even though authenticated' by his miracles and attested by the Spirit of God (see Mt 12:24-32). He had no doubt whatever that God's final redemptive activity was impinging: on the world for all to see; and so to those who failed to see, he said sharply: "Hypocrites[ You know how to interpret the face of the earth and the sky. How is it you do not know how to interpret these times?" (Lk 12:56). He was keen however to ward off the danger of mistaking the kingdom as merely exte'rnal and bbservable and portentous. "For, you must know," he said, "the kingdom of God is among you" (Lk 17:21). The import of this saying, with the mooted expressipn "among you" (entos hymon) is perhaps best understood as gracious infiltration thus: God is acting as King in and through the ministry of Jesus and his disciples and it is up to the contemporaries of Jesus to recognize this and to respond to it.~2 Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life / 195 People therefore had to be sensible (phronimos) enough to live with.,the times, the pecular times that bore the mark of eschatology in the process of realization. This was the new summons Jesus issued in his crisis-parables (see Mt 25:1-13; .Mk 13:33-37; Lk 16:1-8), Whether or not his. fisteners paid heed to hisclarion call,~the appearance of the kingdom could not be delayed, much less thwarted (see Lk 10:10-11). For, his own incontrovertible experience was that the fullness .of time had arrived, seized with the existential eruption of the "violence" of the kingdom, i.e,, of the irresistible power with which the king, dom was beginning to establish itself powerfully in spite of all obstacles(see Mt 11:12), making its headway as certainly and impalpably as harvest would come in due season after the sowing (see Mk 4:26-29). ~ ~ What is the significance of all this for us in the present day? The new age Of the kingdom so enthusiastically announced by Jesus has not reached its cfilmi-nation,, but is ever racing to its finale with greater and greater momentum. Therefore our times, too, must be caught up in the eschatological movement. So St. Paul could say to his age: ' You know ~the time" has come: you must wake up now: our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted (Rm 13:11). There is assuranc~ then that the majestic kingdom of God invades our days too with its cumulative momentum of the past. It ceaselessly forges ahead towards the absolute future. Here is sensed the apocalyptic reverberation of the eschatological thrust that has been set in motion irrevocably. It is in such milieu that religious life experiences its quickening. The Apocalyptic Eruption of Religious Life The familiar perspective of religious life in view of the kingdom, as this is usually understood, only scratches the surface of the reality, and is not worthy of the sovereign nature of the kingdom. Is it not truer existentially to regard religious life as the specific outcome of the kingdom working its way in and beyond the world? If the kingdom is indeed' like what happens in flour because of the yeast mixed in it (see Mt 13:33), a religious fermentqsbound to show; and religious life is a remarkable expression of thig, Or in terms of the parable of thesower, if the kingdom is like the marvelous growth of seed destined to provide a bumper harvest despite all the usual hazards (see Mt 13:4-9), then. surely there is at work some divine power achieving its purpose without fail. What is.religi0us life but a phenomenon of~the k!ngdom exercising its sway over men unmistakably and forcefully? Surely it is.the dynamic reality of the . onrush of the~kingdom that causes religious life to spring up with an awareness of its own and to buoy up with a new impulse, The obvious fact that religious life grew in the climate of the New Testa-ment is not particularly striking until we come to think of it. However it provides a clue to an important aspect of religious life. Religious life did not, and in fact could not, exist in the period of the old covenant ~hen the kingdom had, not begun to take shape. When, in the fullness of time, the kingdom of 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 God made itself felt by its hidden transforming power, it gave rise to a new style of life, even to a fullness of life (See Jn 10:10). Will it be forcing the point to detect traces of this richness in religious life? For instance, if there are some people at least who embrace and honor poverty, it is because they have come to believe that, with the coming of the kingdom, the rich are sent away empty, while the hungry are filled with good things (see Lk 1:53). Poverty is no longer emptiness but fullness because it bestoxbs the title for the possession of the kingdom (se~ Lk 6:20). On the contrary, riches are hollow: "For a man's life is not made secure by what he owns, even when he has more than he needs" (Lk 12:15). In the matter of celibacy, its aspect of fullness appears in the virtual disappearance of the urge to the raising of a progeny to continue life after the death of the progenitor, and this in virtue of the marvelous hope of claiming the kingdom unassailed by the specter of the second death (see Rv 20:6). The earlier absolute necessity of procreation binding on Jews in view of the Messiah cannot remain unchanged after his birth. In fact one has to reckon with the possibility of the opposite necessity, that of celibacy, in view of the kingdom brought about by him who remained celibate. Surely no one can talk in this fashion without the earlier experience of being seized by the spell of the. kingdom.~3., The experience of the power of the kingdom includes also the exaltation of the lowly (see Lk 1:52; 14:1 l); and this proper, though unusual, sense of dignity (see Lk 22:25-27) is the real inspiration of a true life of obedience. Those who give credence to this understanding of religious life will heed the words of St. Paul: We beg you once again not to neglect the grace of God that you have received. For he says: At the favorable time, I have listened to you; on, the day of salvation I came to your help. Well, now is the favorable time; this is the day of salvation (2 Co 6:1-2). Remembering how the rich young man forfeited the favor offered to him by Jesusothe eschatological prophet (see Mk 10:22), religious would not miss the apocalyptic ur.gency of the ancient warning: "If only you would listen to him today" (Ps 95:7). Concretely, "as long as 'today' lasts" (Heb3:13), every~ day dawns for them with "the rising sun" (Lk 1:78) turning their passage of time or chronos into kairos, the providential time for the realization of escha-tological salvation. Religious life thus understood as life pressing towards its fullness and keeping pace with the kingdom could be produced by man no more than could the glory of the kingdom. The inauguration of the kingdom coincides with the age of divine favor that has been awaited for ages. Jesus congratulates his disciples on their privilege of witnessing ~this reality of the kingdom: Happy the eyes that see. what you see, for 1 tell you that many prophets and kings wanted, to see what you see, and never saw it; to hear what you hear, and never heard it (L.k 10:23-24). So religious life, as it participates in the course of the kingdom, should'bear Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life /i97 the imprint of the gracious favor of the Lord manifested in his kingdom. The logion on celibacy for instance throbs with this spirit (see Mt 19:11-12). Far from being mastery or control of self, celibacy is the ardor created by the kingdom spreading abroad its divine warmth. Therefore only those can take upon themselves the practice of celibacy who know the happy necessity of it from their personal experience of being caught_up bY the love of the ki.ngdom. If the initial fervor of religious life as a rule does not last longer than a nine days' wonder, the reason is that it does not spring from the consciousness of the divine favor stirring in religious life. Religious life is not basically a moral achievement but a religious acknowledgment in wonderment; it is a fervent acceptance of the good things God wants to give his children in his kingdom (see Mt 7:11); it is a knowing and a rejoicing in what God offers everyone in the time of his favor (see Lk 19:44b; Jn 4:10). The fundamental profession of religious life finds appropriate expression in the Johannine conviction: Indeed, from his fullness we have, all of us, received--yes, grace in return for grace, since, though the Law was given through Moses, grace and truth have come through Jesus Christ (Jn 1:16-17). How. far this finds verification in the actual experience of religious is a valid question. Even if the vast majo.rity of religious may be wanting in this pro-found experience--and this may lead to the further question about' the, genuineness ofrgreat numbers surviving in religious life--their initial desire for religious life is not without value and is a measure of the pervasiveness of the kingdom. As-a scriptural instance of it the story of the rich aristocrat may be cited (see Lk 18:18-25). His eager and earnest question regarding the kingdom of God is in itself something admirable; and is best attributed to an inspiration owing to the closeness of the kingdom. This initial appeal of the kingdom develops further in a compelling manner toward its final appeal of being poor enough to have treasure in heaven, as Jesus expounds the grace of the king-dom. Here is grace upon grace which, however, is not received by the rich man, for his earlier ardor dips into gloom, only to invite a straight look from Jesus followed by a cutting remark: "How hard it is for those who:have riches to make their way into the kingdom of God" (Lk 18:24). The reaction of Jesus insinuates that there is a certain necessity to respond to the grace of the kingdom, especially if it comes pressing on us. This necessity receives, explicit affirmation in the clarification given by Jesus regarding the best places in the kingdom: "Anyone who wants to be great among you must be your servant; and anyone who wants to be first among you must be your slave" (Mt 20:26-27). This sense of necessity, parodoxically enough, cannot be wanting in those who freely make themselves eunuchs, driven by the ceaseless urge of the kingdom towards its consummation (see Mt 19:12). How far have religious e.xperienced this necessity as a matter of blessing and responded to the over- 191~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 whelming grace of the kingdom deep down in their hearts? If response to the grace of the kingdom is constitutive of religious life, the experience of conversion must run through religious life right from 'the start, for the call to conversion is part of the kingdom. Religious life, as the king-dom, is not ,for the elite, but for,all those who find favor in the sight of the Lord because of their humbled and contrite spirit. This' spirit of conversion does not pertain only~to the initial entrance into the kingdom, but also to the lasting continuance in it, as is implied in the parable of the farmhand (see Lk 17:7-10) who knows his proper status. No one can remain directly turned to the Lord--that is, what conversion is-~-without the ennobling spirit" of the Miserere (Ps 51). Not~satisfied with mere forgiveness of sin~, one ought to yearn for a transformation of heart wrought by the Lord, and so keep praying: Yet, since y~u love sincerity of heart, teach me the secrets of wisdom. :. God, create a clean heart in me, put into me a new and constant spirit (Ps 51:6,10). What the rich aristocrat missed sadly was precisely this. For all his good performance with regard to the commandments, he lacked ~this one thing: submission to the thrust of the kingdom making its peculiar, salvific dem~inds that are superior to the laws of earlier ages. And so he failed to make his grade in the kingdom--not unlike the Pharisee who prayed to himself (s~e Lk 18:9-14). Religious with all their.practice of specific virtues and vows, cannot be too chary of this pharisaic outlook that dispenses with the need for growing, abiding conversion. Part of the experience of conversion is conviction. Conviction is not neces-sarily conversion, but conversion is conviction: Convergion engenders a new vision of life calling forth a new belief altogether. How Jesus instills this new belief in his special .recruits for the kingdom! Broaching the idea of the obe-dience of service, for instance, he sets it in clear opposition to what obtains outside the realm of the kingdom: You kno~w that among the pagans the rulers lord it over them, and their great men make their authority felt. This is not to happen among you (Mt 20:25-26). He tried to convince his disciples that he himself has come only to serve; at the Last Supper he even indicts them for their sin of failure in this matter by personally washing their feet. In the: same way he opens to them a new world of values regarding mundane matters like possessions. Possessions prove to be snares (see Lk 12:1 ~20); and so they are better left aside (see Lk 12:33) so as to store up treasure in the kingdom of God (see Lk 12:34; 18:22) where alone human hearts can rest secure with no fear or disappointment (see Mt6:19-21). Even perso, ns can bea hindrance to the outreach of the kingdom in us; and so the disciples of thee kingdom need to be disciplined enough to be free from the possible shackles o~ porents, partner or progeny. In advocating, this belief, Jesus utters the promise: Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life I tell you solemnly, there is no one who has left house, wife, brothers, parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will not be given repayment many ¯ times over in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life (Lk 18:29-30). Would that religious dared to profess this faith, not only ideally but existentially, in the bewitched world that senses none of the hidden influence of the encircfing kingdom[ The content of the response made by religious life to the advance of the kingdom ought to be a matter of disbelief or at least disturbance for any person in his fight senses who loves himself and his life. Surely each one of the invited' guests in the parable of the great supper who refused to, attend the celebration must be considered sensible enough to know his'own rights and how to enjoy himself. One wants to exercise his independence, another his ownership, and the third his right of marriage; and yet their action comes in for condemnation because, under the influence of hasty excuses, they have gone back on their earlier acceptance of the invitation, setting at nought the very invi~tion they had once cared for (see Lk 14:15-24). The point of the parable is that the kingdom of God is such a pressing reality in the here-and-now that nothing else, not even man's most cherished privileges and rights, can h01d its own so as to exercise a superior claim over man. The urgency of the kingdom will impinge itself at least upon some people with a weight that leaves them in no mood to follow the usual course of life with its legitimate pleasure, typified by eating and drinking, buying and own-ing, marrying and giving in marriage (see Lk 17:26-30). Such is the urgency, for instance, behind the call to leave one's home. The one who is ready to follow Jesus only after seeing to his father's burial, hears the peremptory order: "Leavethe dead to bury their dead; your dutyis to go and spread the news of the kingdom of Gbd" (Lk 9:60). Such is the sense of freedom inspired by the kingdom that some feel the impulse to forego their birthright of founding their own family, and think nothing of the loss (see Mt 19:11-12), The absolute compulsion of the king-dom, overriding all personal concerns, becomes all the more categorical when it proceeds as a personal command issued by Jesus. He is the very personifica-tion of the kingdom, and so he can authoritatively demand sole allegiance from others, expecting them to set aside all bther possible contenders--includ-ing their own precious life (see Lk 14:26). Only people who succumb to the sure, gentle and absolute urgency of the message and of the, Man of the kingdom (see Mt 11:28-30; Jn 7:46) may legitimately and worthily embark upon religious life. Their life now, condi-tioned by the absolute claims of the kingdom, must be counted already part of the kingdom, adding its own vigor to the eschatological tidal wave. ~ The worth of.the kingdom does not admit of any compromis.e with regard to its radical implications. However the kingdom does not encounter one and all in the same way, nor with the same force. For instance, as Jesus points out emphatically, the stunning call of continence cannot be generalized (see Mt 21~0 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 19:11). Again he does not press on everyone to become actually poor. Surely he leaves Zacchaeus serene with his experience of salvation, without demand-ing from him any further distribution of his wealth to the poor (see Lk 19:1-10). So religious life, which commits itself to the kingdom unconditionally, does not engage or enlist everyone who experiences being drawn to the king-dom. Further even those .who find themselves actually within religious life must prove themselves not only called but chosen! The proof surprisingly does not consist in the mere bleak, though perfect, fidelity to the exacting demands of the kingdom, but rather it originates in the kind of joyful impact expe-rienced when the kingdom has impinged upon them. If the kingdom has engaged their attention and delighted their hearts, has subdued their natural powers and invaded them with its own rhythm, then religious life, with all its sacrifices, will not be a forced choice even borne with a gri.'n, but a pleasant surprise like stumbling on the pearl nonpareil. Without the enthusiasm flowing from such an absorbing and radical experience of the kingdom the possibi~lity of the exciting adventure of religious life does not arise, and the actual practice of religious life could well pass for a form of ¯ conscription, one that therefore might better not be. Indeed who could cope with the rigors of religious life without having been surprised by the joy of the kingdom? The grace of religious life for the kingdom is not cheap but costly, to use the expression of Bonhoeffer; and for that very reason fulfilling in the very depths of one's being. No one comes to the kingdom by chance but by decisive choice made in the contact of a propitious moment of grace. In this aspect precisely religious life presents a distinctive feature of its own. The necessity of decision in view of the absolute grace of the kingdom can exercise most mind~ without actually pressing the individuals to enter upon a decision. But religious life does not merely provide a forum for endless cerebral discussion on "decision for the kingdom." It also sets up a structure which makes its aspirants uncomfortable with mere good intentions: It obliges them, within a specific period of time, to make a positive decision worthy of the kingdom. The early traihing, leading to the full embrace of religious life, is a time when the recruits are shaken out of rootless fervor and faced with the challenge of the actual necessity of decision--or at least of the decision to make the decision--for the life of the kingdom! The profession of the vows, especially of perpetual vows, is intended to signify the actual, irrevocable decision made for the kingdom by the religious. 'Religious profession is rightly termed a commitment to the kingdom, which has encountered us with its costly, but overwhelming, grace. It is the way of enjoying the road of blessedness, of having heard the Word and kept it, (see Lk 11:28), unlike the rich young man who went his way sad. ~' Religious commitment is a sign that the children of light are becoming as earnest and astute in the matters of the kingdom as the worldlings have been in ¯ Apocalyptic Sources of Religious Life / 201 theirs (see Lk 16:8). It is a resolve charged with the courage of conviction--so very necessary in the affairs of the kingdom as in any serious, worthy cause. The pronouncement and practice of the vows save the religious from the trickery of self-deception, guarding them from the danger of being surprised in their weariness into looking back, strengthening them instead with the spirit of perseverance for looking ahead to the ever growing fullness of the kingdom. Religious life, caught up by the dynamic thrust of the kingdom, cannot escape from the eschatological struggle in the present stage of "the last times"; but it keeps itself buoyed up with the throbbing hope of final victory, and the consequent establishment of the kingdom. Whatever may be the strength of the decision made in commitment to religious life, the decision needs to be made and renewed time and again in the face of forces of the world, namely the sensual body, the lustful eye and the pride in possessions (see 1 Jn 2:16). This involves a constant struggle which callsfor relentless faith by which alone the righteous man lives and can live (see Heb 10:37-39). Religious life knows no respite--this is part of its apocalyptic experience-- as, being part of the kingdom, it strives to do away with "every sovereignty, authority and power" (1 Co 15:24) and thus redeem the present age of wicked-ness (see Ep 5:16). In the process, however, much suffering has to be borne: there will be mourning, hunger, thirst and even persecution for those who are forging ahead into the kingdom (see Mt 5:5,6,10). While it is true that religious life is under the sway of the kingdom, and accordingly is persuaded of the privilege of poverty (see Jm 2:5), the happiness of the service of obedience (see Lk 22:25-27; .In 13:16-17), and the worthiness of celibacy (see Mt 19:12), yet it cannot escape the onslaught of the kingdom of the world any more than did Jesus (see Mt 4:1-10;16:21-23). In accordance with the pattern of the experience of Jesus (see Lk 12:49-50;24:26), "we all have to experience many hardships," as a beautiful line in Acts has it, "before we enter the kingdom of God"(14:22). There is no other means by which we~may be found worthy of the kingdom of God (see 2 Th 1:4-5). Revelation revolves around this truth. In particular the vision of the saints in heaven (see Rv 7:9-17) lifts us up from the familiar scene of tribulation to hear their cry of victory in the kingdom of God. If they take their place in front of God's throne, it is because they are martyrs, having shed their blood and mingled it with the blood of the Lamb. So martyrdom for the kingdom is an eschatological necessity. Religious life cannot escape this necessity without endangering itself. Religious life is not a substitute for martyrdom, though it grew up only when the early persecutions came to an end. Religious life is in its own right a lifelong martyrdom. Religious life must come to grips with this reality existen-tially and not merely morally. The vows of religion are marks of the eschato-logical martyrdom that religious should gladly undergo in their enthusiasm for the kingdom. What we endure in this life can never be compared to the glory of the kingdom yet to be revealed in its glorious fullness (see Rm 8:18). So it 909 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1984 should be a matter of rejoicing~for the religious that celibates are singled out in one of the apocalyptic visions of the heavenly throng surrounding the victor-ious king (see Rv 14:1-5). Happy will be those religious who treasure the prophecy of the Apocalypse (see Rv 1:3). However, th~ir~l~appiness cannot be unmixed and will be:far from perfect because the prophecy is yet to be fulfilled. Meanwhile, therefore, they groan in their obedient service as they await the inheritance of the fullness of the kingdom with a longing (see 2 Co 5:2), that is enlivened by their poverty and expressed by their celibacy. When sufferings come their way, as indeed they must, they will remember to stand firm to the end (see Mt 24:13) and even know to boast about their sufferings. ¯ These sufferings bring patience, as we know, and patience brings perseverance, and perseverance brings hope, and this hope is not deceptive, because the love of God has been pi~ured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given us [as the greatest of all eschatological gifts] (Rm 5:4-5). What is this hope except that for which all have been called and chosen? Imbued with this spirit we religious mean to work all the har~der to justify it; for in this way we will be granted admittance into the eternal kingdom (see 2 P 1:10-11). NOTES ~Describing the eschatologieal perspective specific to the New Testament, an Encyclopedia of T~ eology says: "It is not surprising., that the Christian revelation should be essentially an apocalypse (Mt 16:17; Ga 1:16; Rv). See K. Rahner et al, eds., Sacramentum Mundi (London, 1968), p. 50. 2Vatican II, Lumen Gentium, n. 44. ~Vatiean 11, Gaudium et Spes, n. 38. *R. Voillaume, Concerning Religious Life (London, 1975), p. 20. 5Ibid., p. 29. 6V. E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning (New York, 1963), p. 115. 7y. Raguin points to the danger of eschatology being tied up with the future life, but does not seem to advert to the other danger of the eschatology being confined to the present experience. See his Celibacy for Our 7~mes (Hertfordshire, 1978), p. 23. ~ 8See J. B. Metz, Followers of Christ (London/Ramsey, 1978), p. 62. 9K. Rahner, "The Theology of the Religious Life," in G. Huyghe et ai, Religious Orders in the Modern World ~(London/Dublin, 1966), pp~ 68-69. t0See J, B. Metz,' op cit., p. 76. ~A. Paton, Cry~ the Beloved Country (Seribner, 1948) as in J. Loew, As If He Had Seen the Invisible (Notre Dame, 1967), pp. 84-85 (emphasis added).° , ~2N. Perrin, The King~d~m of God in the Teaching of Jesus (London, 1975)~ p.~187. ~JSomething similar has been f

Issue 39.6 of the Review for Religious, November 1980. ; The Fot~rth Level of Prayer Developmental Stages and the Novice Limits of Adaptability of the Exercises Volume :~9 Number 6 November 1980 REVIEW ~:OR Rrl.J~aOt~S (ISSN 0034-639X). published hi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Departmenl of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room a,28:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By R~v~w FOk RFa.~¢aous. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.(X). Subscription U.S.A.: $8.1XI a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 fi~r two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write R~v~w I;Ok R~-:~,~;~ot;s: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November, 1980 Volume 39 Number 6 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manu~ripts and books for review should be sent to REw~:w ~on R~:~AG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as repr.ints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. The Benedictine Call to Judgment James M. Desche~e, O.S.B. Brother James has written this article especially to celebrate the 1500 anniversary of the Benedic-tines. His last article, "Journey into Christ," appeared in the issue of July, 1980. He resides at Christ-of-the-Hills Monastery; P.O. Box 32849; San Antonio, Texas 78216. Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it !s high time for us to awake out of our sleep., the night is far on its course., day draws near. (Rm 13:11,12). Despite the Lord's command to comfort the afflicted, one cannot help but be struck by the frequency with which the Lordhimself afflicts the comfort-able. Despite our very human tendency to seek peace and security, one cannot easily forget (for the Lord will not permit it) that Christ came "not to send peace, but a sword" (Mt 10:34). When, like ancient Israel, we have come to prefer the security of enslaved lives, the Lord, ever perverse in his grace, calls us out of our comfortable slavery to wander in a desert of freedom, exiled from security and peace. ¯ Wandering.in that terrible place, we long with all our hearts to be back in the dreary mud pits of Egypt, preferring the dry but dependable crusts of slavery to those fierce, unsatisfied hungers we discover within us as we sojourn in the desert of fre~edom.and ~of judgment. Whatever the pain of crises in our lives, we must never forget that the crises themselves are divine gifts. The Greeks, who had a word for everything, gave us the word crisis. But they wisely knew (as we often do not) that the word, while it involved pain, really meant a time of challenge and judgment, an opportunity to-measure and evaluate and change. For the Christian, crises are moments in which God confronts us with truths we had preferred not to see, with realities we have chosen to ignore, with decisions we have refused to make. For the Christian, a crisis is a 801 802 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 moment--albeit painful--of deepest grace. For a Christian who has become settled in a life of slavery to routine and superficial existence, a moment of crisis is a moment of salvation and an opportunity to regain touch with th~ deep roots of being, to be enlivened and energized by a return to life and grace. Just as there are moments of crisis ! of j udgment-- in each human life, so are there moments of crisis in each human generation and in each human society. This is the human condition: to stand--as an individual and as a race--at eve.ry moment in need of judgment and of conversion, in need of redemption and of new life. It is his recognition of this condition--and of Christ's lordship over all our crises--that prompts Saint Paul to call us to judgment: "Make no mistake about the age we live in; already it is high time for us to awake out of sleep." Paul's word, translated here by "high time," is the Greek kairos, with its sense of urgency, of.opportunity, of occasion. The word for Paul usually suggests a critical time (a time of judgment), a God-filled moment of salvation, an end and a beginning. Fifteen hundred years ago was born a man whose wisdom in crisis was to have an incalculable influence on the history and life of our. western world. Benedict, born around the year 480 in the small Umbrian town of Nursia in the Apennines, found himself thrust into a world in crisis. The old Roman Empire and its social fabric were f~lling into ruin around this young man. Rome itself narrowly escaped attack by Attila the Hun in~452 only to be sacked a few years later by the Vandals. Nor was the Church im-mune from crisis. In 451, churchmen struggling over the doctrinal issue of the two natures in Christ met in council at Chalcedon. The results were a victory for dogma but a defeat for Christian unity, giving rise to the two schisms of the NestOrians and the Monophysites, and planting the seeds of the great disunity between east and west that were to bloom prodigiously in the later Middle Ages. In brief, it was an age not unlike our own. Into the crisis of his age entered this man Benedict who wisely allowed the larger crises of his time to become one with his own personal moment of crisis, of judgment and of salvation. In the person of Benedict, in fact, a judgment is passed upon the age itself: "Even while still living in the world, free to enjoy all it had to offer, he saw how empty it was and turned from it without regret" (St. Gregory the Great: Dialogues, H, Preface). It is the genius of Saint Benedict, and the special mark of his,holiness, that this judgment, while never compromising itself, always avoids the taint of the puritan harshness we of later generations have come to expect in those who renounce the world. Instead, as we discover in the Prologue to his Rule, Benedict's judgment is filled with goodness and grace, with charis as the ancients knew it, sounding clear notes of kindliness; graciousness and mercy. Benedict calls his advice that of a "loving father" and finds only joy in the~call to judgment: "What can be sweeter to us, dear brothers, than this voice of the Lord inviting us? Behold, in his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 803 life" (Rule, Prologue). As the monk confronts the crisis of his own life, any hardness results from the very hardness and smallness of his own heart. But in crisis, the Lord stands ready to give the monk a neff heart and with this growth comes an ineffable joy: "For as we advance in the religious life and in faith, our hearts expand, and we run the way of God's commandments with unspeakable sweetness of love" (Rule, Prologue). In its essence, the monastic or religious life as Benedict understands it is a call to judgment, a call to be ever open to the voice of the Lord, a vocation to enter into each and every moment of crisis with the faith tha, t God is present in that moment to recreate and renew our hearts and our lives. The great enemy to this vocation is hardening the heart: "Today if you hear his voice, harden not your hearts." And Benedict's remedy for this is sounded in the opening of his Rule: "Listen, my son, to your master's precepts, and incline the ear of'your heart." For Benedict this is no poetic fancy. To listen, to incline the ear of the heart, is exactly what is meant by obedience. "By the labor of obedience you may return to him from whom you had departed by the sloth of disobedience" (Rule, Prologue). Obedience, to the Latin ear ofSaint Benedict, always carried a message we easily miss in the English word. Obedience (from ob +audire) has to do with listening, with hearing, with attending to. It involves an openness and a sensitivity to the voice and,the, will of the Lord speaking to each person in each situation. To obey is tobe wholly open and submissive to the Lord in crisis; it is to be ever willing to enter into crisis because that is .where the Lord will be found at that moment. It is a willingness to allow the Lord tobe our judge, to have his way with us. It isa willingness to let one's,heart be broken, if that is the Lord's will. It is to. hold back no part of one's life,ands'being from the Lord of all life and being. To obey is to be wholly the Lord's creature, Benedict clearly indicates that it is in obedience that the monk finds a deep stability when he quotes from the Gospel the words: "Whoever listens to these w~ords of mine and acts upon them, I will liken him to a wise man who has built his house on rock. The floods came, the winds blew and beat against that house, and it did not fall, because it was founded on rock" (Rule, Prologue). When we are in crisis, security and stability appear to lie in avoiding the critical issue. When .the Lord calls.us out of slavery into the desert, slavery doesn't look so bad. Only the0deepest faith and the deepest trust in the Father's love can teach us to face the crisis, to enter into judgment, to listen to and obey the voice that calls us into seeming desert and chaos and.ruin. For Benedict this faith and trust are reflected in the words: "In his loving kindness the Lord shows us the way of life." What appears to be a way of death is really the way of life. One of the.practical ways Benedict provides to his monks for learning this deep trust in the Father's unfailing love is the office of the abbot; the abba who incarnates among the monks the Father himself. It is by his obedience to the abbot that the monk learns obedience to the Father. Indeed, it isin his obe- 804 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 dience to the abbot that the monk is obedient to the Father. Yet Benedict is careful to remind the monk that obedience-- in its radical sense of openness to crisis and the will of God expressed in concrete situations--is not limited to the relationship between a monk and his abbot. The monk is to recall that he must be obedient to all his brothers. "Not only is the boon of obedience to be shown by all to the Abbot, but the brothers are also to obey one another, knowing that by the road of obedience they are going to God" (Rule, Chapter 71). The call to crisis involves every member of the community. No one is to be denied our obedience--our listening, our sensitivity, our responsiveness. Every crisis between Christians, whether they be monks or not, is a God-filled kairos, a time of salvation. In light of the foregoing, it may be objected by some that this appears to be a diminution of the force of the vow of obedience. I have avoided all the juridical and legal aspects of the vow. Yet I have done this purposely, and for two reasons. First, the vision I find in Benedict of obedience is deeper, stronger and more demanding than. any purely juridical concept. Indeed, it is possible (perhaps even common) to find juridically conceived obedience an effective means of escaping real crisis, real judgment and encounter between the monk and the Lord. Secondly, a purely juridical view limits our considera-tion to those who are juridically bound by a vow. Yet Benedict's view of obe-dience is no less applicable to every Christian man and woman than to monks. All are called to crisis, to judgment. No Christian is exempt from this demand nor from the demand of obedience to each of his fellow Christians. Nor is any Christian exempt from the demand Benedict makes by the vow of conversatio morum, usually translated as "conversion of manners" or "reformation of life." For in its most profound sense, this vow is essentially a radical call to crisis, to judgment. It requires that at every moment we respond to the voice of the Lord calling us to newness of life. Today's response may have to be relinquished to tomorrow's response. Our hearts must be continu-ally open to each new judgme.nt and call from the Lord. We are not to settle down, not to set camp in the desert, but to be continually on the move. There is no standing still in the service of the Lord. Endless conversion, perpetual metanoia, are the marks of a truly living Christian. To guarantee that the monk will not be tempted to escape this demand of endless reformation and endless conforming to the living will of God as revealed in crisis and discovered by obedience, Benedict adds the third vow of stability. By this the monk renounces his right to escape God's demands in the present moment and circumstances by moving into other circumstances. Run-ning away is not permitted the monk and so there is nothing for him to do but to submit to the divine crisis and know it is God's will that he submit. From the day of his profession, the monk is assured by God's promise that it is here, among these particular persons,, that God will confront him in crisis. To flee from these brothers, then, is to flee from God and his call. (I do not wish here to enter into the problematical issues of canonical transfer of stability or of The Benedictine Call to Judgment / 805 departure from the monastic life, though these deserve fuller treatment in light of what has been said here.) One of the last points to consider in Benedict's vision of the Christian life authentically lived is the place of humility. A close examination of his chapters on hi~mility reveals that humility has a great deal to do with truthfulness. It has to do with facing the truth about ones.elf. It has to do with seeing oneself for what one is. It is a virtue of utter and radical realism. Above all, its end is tosee oneself as God sees one. It involves looking at fearful truths intently and steadily, refusing to turn away from them, until by grace and work, all fear is transformed into love and "the monk will presently come to that perfect love of God which casts out fear" (Rule, Chapter 7). Humility is thus related to crisis; it helps us to face crisis, to endure judg-ment, to bear the truth. It also enables the monk to be of assistance to his brothers in their need to face crisis. The monk serves his brother by being perfectly truthful, by obscuring nothing of his own weakness or sin and nothing of his brother's weakness and sin. Humble monks do not support one another in self-deception. Equally importantly, the monk is alway.s ready, in humility, to take from the moment of crisis the truth of his own goodness and to affirm the same in his brothers:.Humility is the readiness to admit the truth as it is revealed at every moment. This is particularly seen in the requirement that the monk hold back nothing about himself from his spiritual father. Every selfish thought, every petty jealousy, every twinge of hatred--all must be laid without hesitation before the spiritual father. In this way, spiritual direction for the monk becomes in the truest sense a crisis and a moment of salvation. Nothing of Benedict's vision is without relevance to the life and growth of every Christian. In this fifteen-hundredth year of Saint Benedict's gift to Christianity, it must be seen that his gift is a gift to all men and women who seek the Lord. The gift of his monks is to be bearers of crisis. The monk must live in such a way that the world may never forget that Christ is Lord. The monk must live in such a way that the values of the world, insofar as they are opposed to the values of Christ, are absurd and empty. Benedict's sons and daughters must see that their lives bring a continual judgment on the lives of all men and women; that their lives are lived in a way that proclaims the power of truthfulness, of humility, of obedience. The monk must live his life in such a way that it would make no sense if there" were not a loving Father guiding and ruling all things. It is this "senselessness" that can bring the world into crisis, into facing the truth of its own empty values, its own abandonment of God, This is the Benedictine crisis, this call to judge the world not by condemn-ing or rejecting it, and certainly not by fleeing it; but by living every moment in such a way that the world must face the question of God's rule and the reality of his kingdom. Our criticism must lie, like Benedict's, not in speaking against the world (though this too has its place), but by the positive and grace-filled 806 / Review for Religious~ Volume 39, 1980/6 living of our lives in truth, in love, in brotherhood, in simplicity, in peace: In our time, perhaps more than ever, this is the task to which Benedict's monks and nuns are called, For all of us it is a time of crisis, of asking whether weare really doing what Saint Benedict interided. To answer this question, we do not 'need to examine our effectiveness. For our effectiveness lies entirely in our observance of the Rule and spirit of Saint Benedict. It is by being witnesses to God's kingdom that we shall have our effect, and this witness lies in our fidelity to the principles we have briefly looked at~here: obedience, continual reformation, stability, humility. For fifteen hundred years the presence in the world of Benedictine monks has been a sign and a challenge, a judgment and a question .--a crisis. So long as~we do not ourselves abandon the elements of our life which keep us ever open and sensitive to the workings of the Spirit, so long as we have the faith and the courage to examine ourselves for fidelity to the authentic Benedictine tradition and to step into the future with faith and trust and submissive-ness- so long as these things are present,,the Benedictine family and mission will be .needed, will be in crisis, will be genuinely alive, ~ We attest to a frightened world that the'sword of Christ.is but a prelude to the peace of Christ, that death through olSedience leads to the fullest life, and that the ruins of our lives in the crises we meet are the foundations of Resur-rection. The world's fear must be cast out by the perfection of our love.For it is love that is the greatest judgment and crisis in all of human history. Benedict, in his school of the Lord's service, shows us the way to the crisis of love. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery David J. Hassel, .S.J. Father:Hassel is Associate Professor of Philosophy at Loyol~i University in Chicago. His last arti-cle, "'Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing Oners Memories with Christ," was printed in the issue of March, 1977 and is still available in reprint form. He currently resides at 6525 North Sheridan Road; Chicago, IL 60626. Ironically, the terms most frequently used to describe our present-day spirituality can cause us the most c6nfusion: peace, consolation and desola-tion, dryness in prayer, contemplation in action, discernment. Since these terms.point to.mySterious processes within our experience, even a book-length analysis of them would be hardly adequate. But perhaps an article can achieve some clarity if it attempts simply to locate the happenings described by these terms~ In other words, if we were to ~st~rvey the various level~ of human awareness--e~en with some crudity--we might better understand the events occurring at these levels.' But before doing tlais survey, could we first describe the problems to be touched hire? For ~xample, people can feel disturbed about the peace they experience in their decisions and their prayer. Is this peace simply the euphoria of having finally made a decision after hours or days of sweaty deliberations? Is peace in prayer mainly exuberant physical ~nd mental health? The f6~ty'- year old priest has decided that God no longer wants him to practice° his priesthood but now wishes him to marry the woman who has helped him so ' I am deeply indebted to the retreatants whose honesty and trust have furr~ished me with the data out of which this article rises, i am particularly indebted to the following persons who have attempted to save me the usual number of unhealthy exaggerations inevitable in such an article as this: Mary Ann Hoope, B.V.M., Robert Harvanek, S.J., Paul Clifford, S.J., John Schuett, S.J., Richard Smith, S.J., Robert Murphy, S.J, :Mary Jane Linn, C.S.J., Frank Houdek, S.J., Jules Toner, S.J., Mrs. Mary Ellen Hayes. 807 808 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 much in his ministry and in his discovery of manhood. He feels peace in this decision; but is this "peade" simply the relief from heavy parish obligations and the glad anticipation of married life? Will "peace" remain when his new life begins to place renewed obligations on his shoulders? Again, a person can experience what seems to be a split in his personality. He finds himself half-miserable, half-happy. He asks himself: "How can I, at one and the same time, experience the depressing defeat of losing my job and yet, in my depths, feel confident? Are there two of me? Is this the play of con-solation and desolation within my life? Or are the pressures of life splitting my consciousness into two?" A third problem is Christ's command: "Pray always." Such a request seems psychologically impossible when a mother is raising four children between the ages of two years and twelves years or when an engineer is testing a heavily traveled city bridge for stress-breaks and wondering what will hap-pen in the business community and-at city hall if he condemns the bridge, or when the advertising executive is sizing up a prospective customer, estimating the product to be advertised, and puzzling over the morality of a slick sales-pitch which has just come to mind. But if Christ is asking the psychologically impossible, is he not providing the conditions for skepticism about his whole message? A fourth problem arises when we focus upon discernment process the three puzzling cases just mentioned. What does it mean to discern God's will in a decision, if I am unsure about peac~, consolation-desolati0n, and ongoing prayer in my life? Such discernment is often termed the concrete call of Christ to the individual Christian or to his community. But does God call only through external circumstances and other people, or does he not also" make his desires known within the experience of the individual Christian? Does such an interior experience occur in the imagination or in the mind or in the heart of the person? Or in all three at the same time? Or somewhere else? Some clarity, it is contended here, can be attained in these problems if one distinguishes four levels of awareness in the praying Christian: the superficial, physical, psychic, and mysterious. Could we, therefore, describe these levels then indicate a way of uncovering the fourth level, next show the type of partial solution which the appreciation of this fourth level offers to our prob-lems, subsequently explain how the fourth level would seem to affect the upper thre~ levels of awareness, and finally offer some cautions about the use of this fourth-level explanation? These five steps would be the strategy of this presentation. Four Levels of Awareness2 First Level: the Sensuous-Superficial. This first level is the skin-surface of experience: sensuous awareness. It is a tissue of minor irritations and pleasures. For example, I am displeased by the cold draft playing on my neck during the auditorium talk, or by the raspy.voice of the woman describing her The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 809 Florida vacation or by the first gnawings of hunger at 4:30 p.m., or by the slight rash on the back of my hand. At this same level, I experience satisfac-tion at a favorite meal of ham and sweet potatoes, at the sweet smell of spring grass just cut, at the relaxation of a hardy laugh, at the caressing of the family cat. Such minor irritations and pleasures ordinarily do not demand much at-tention and are taken for granted as the normal flow of life. Though I am often barely conscious of them, they do give life its continuous texture. Second Level: the Physical-Vital. Underneath the first level of awareness, there are other happenings which demand attention because they last longer and are more intense tfian events of the first level. Here are the pains and joys which go deeper than minor ir.ritations and pleasantries~ Anyone who has experienced the steady throb of neuralgia or the constant harassment of ulcer pains or the brain-deadening effect of insomnia will vouch for the e~xistence of this second level of awareness. Here are also pleasurable joys which exceed the simple pleasures described in the first level. There is, for example, the exuber-ance of glowing health, the feeling that "all the world is beautiful and owned by me'~-experiences which the carbonated-drink advertisements exploit. At this level the fifth symphony of Beethoven can stir a person to his depths with its elegant majesty, can make him feel noble beyond his dreams. Or this level contains the sustained sat!sfaction of slowly mastering one's tennis or golf. Here, too, the ecstasy of sexual pleasure .occurs with its deep drum-beat of powerful delight. The very power of the pains and pleasures of this second level demand our attention and make us aware of how superficial the first- . level irritations and pleasures are. Yet these second-level happenings do com-penetrate and influence the first-level, sensuous awareness. One's enjoyment of a favorite dinner is enhanced by the feel of good health or diminished by in-somnia. Third Level: the Psychological-Psychic. Although the second level of awareness contains happenings of insistent strength, still the third level of awareness is capable of riveting a person~.s attention and so possessing him or her that, for a time, he or she is seemingly unaware of second- or first-level happenings. The deep sorrows and the pure joys of this level totally permeate a person's being and consciousness. For example, the young woman, working at her first secretarial job, may be hypnotized by fear of failure so that her voice creaks, her fingers clog the typewriter keyboard, her memory fails and she feels no hunger throughout the first day of work. The paranoid person 2 In their article "Phenomenology, Psychiatry, and Ignatian Discernment," (The Way, Supple-ment #6, May, 1968, 27-34) Felix Letemendia and George Crofts'peak of four levels of experience: the sensorial, the vital, the psychic and the spiritual, which somewhat resemble the levels described here. They have borrowed their descriptions from Max Scheler, the philosopher, and from Kurt Schneider, the psychiatrist. Of course, there are many levels of experience, if one wishes to be very specific. But perhaps this more simplifiedlsketch of four levels better serves our present purpose. 810 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 may be so concentrating on the "derogatory actions" of others that he walks through a glass door without knowing that he is bleeding from cuts. At this third level a woman may experience haunting doubts about her ability to love another adeq~uately and thus may begin to feel like a dull, unattractive child u~na.ble to evoke love from another. A father's mental pain at watching his daughter waste away in unrelievable cancer is matched on this level only by the suffering of a wife undergoing systematic and.continuous belittlement from her husband while the children look on bewildered. But at this third level, the depth of the pure joys~equal such sorrows. Here an6ther mother experiences the warm security of being loved by an admired husband and of being respected by admiring children: Here, too, is where the older brother ~njoys the four-touchdown afterri0on of his younger brother whom h~had 6oached on all the moves of a tigl~t end during four years. It is at this third lev61 that the novelist reads over the'laudatory reviews of his book and experiences lasting gratitude to the elderly journalism teacher who had taught him his craft. Here, too, the woman social worker sits late at her desk, savoring the bone-tiredness but deep satisfaction of a day well spent in patiently binding together fragmenting families, persons, and situations. This third level, then; encompasses the top two levels'and, in so doing, can render them almost routine. For the top two-levels, distracting as they may be to this thir~l level of awareness, are integrated into a fuller meaning at the°third level. The tired social worker does feel the pangs of hunger at the ~irs~t level, and at the second level does anticipate the pleasure of relaxing at home with her husband over a leisurely dinner, but all this is occurring in the wider and deeper context 'of fulfillment in her work at the third level of awareness. Fourth Level: the Underground River of God. ~ The fourth level is like a great underground river which, underlying the upper three levels, quietly nourishes them, sustains them in their storms and blisses, acts as the continuity (the stay-in~ power) underneath~their sometimes rapid fluctuations of irritation-pleasantry, pain-pleasure, sorrow-joy. Compared to theupper three levels, this fourth level is a quiet beneath turbulance, a constancy amid flux, a seem-in~ Passivity under great activity. Consequently, the fourth level is never explicitly conscious in itself (as are the top three levels) but only by way of cont~ast with the top levels. It is not simply experiential, but implicitly experiential,' as we note in the following two cases. Discovery of the Fourth LevEl A remarkable case-history, whose details rife changed to disguise the ~ Being ignorant of C. G. Jung, the author would not wish the combined images of underground river and of ever deeper experiential levels to be interpreted as intentionally Jungian. ' John F.~ Dedek in his Experimental Knowledge of the Indwelling Trinity: an Historica/Study of the Doctrine of St. Thomas (St. Mary of the Lake Seminary Mundelein, Illinois, 1958, pp. 125r142) calls attention to Aquinas' doctrine that.the Christian's knowledge of the Trintiy is quasi The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 811 person, illustrates how this fourth level can be discovered. A woman novice in a religious order located onthe west coast came to a midwest Jesuit University to begin her collegiate studies. Her novice mistress had taken a dislil(e to her, told her that her lack of intelligence would keep her from ever being a useful member of the congregation, succeeded in turning the other novices against her and yet had capriciously admitted her into vows. When ! met this woman, her skin was blotched with anxiety, the doctor had diagnosed stomach ulcers, she herself felt isolated and :depressed~ But she also was convinced that, despite all the sufferings, God wanted her to be a nun. As three years went by, she discovered that she was a straight "A" student, that she had special talents for political science, that she was being accepted by her fellow students and by the nuns with whom she lived, that she could pray. In other words, she found that she had a future, that deep happiness could occur in religious life. As these discoveries slowly permeated her life, the skin-blotches .disap-peared, the ulcers became healed, the sense of alienation was replaced with the warm feeling of being accepted by her religious community. The steady accomplishment felt at the top three levels of her experience now allowed her to experience by contrast a constant uneasiness or lack of peace at her deepest level, the fourth level. During the period of her novitiate experience, she could not be clearly aware of the uneasiness at the fourth level, because it was clouded by all the disturbances at the upper three levels. Only the growing brightness at the top three levels of-her experience during her collegiate days enabled her to appreciate the bl~i9k uneasiness at the deepest level of her being. After a year or so of disc_e~;nment at-this fourth level, she gradually came to acknowledge that the Lord was asking her to leave the religious community and was calling her to another way .of life. She resisted this leave-taking because she had found so much pleasure, joy, fulfillment in her religious com-munity and in her study-work. Finally she accepted God's will and, leaving the congregation, secured a job in Washington as research assistant to a member of Congress who bullied every member of his staff consistently and impartial-ly. The former novice's skin again took on the anxiety blotches, again she was consulting a doctor about stomach pains, again :she felt herself sinking into a dark and angry depression. But to her surprise, at. t.he fourth level of awareness now opened to her by her previous and present experience, she found a constant serenity never before experienced, The Lord was apparently experimentalis, i.e., "knowledge that is joined to charity" (p. 146). But he is unable to determine whether for Aquinas "this knowledge is merely discursive cognition based on signs or rather some kind of immediate or supra-discursive perception of the divine persons." Such knowledge is cer-tainly at the deepest l~vel of man's experience and, according to.the above analysis, is inferential, that is, the person becomes aware by contrasting the top three levels with the fourth level. The cen-tral texts noted in Aquinas by Fr, Dedek are in I Sent., D. 14, q. 2a., and 3; D. 15, Expositio Secundae Patris Textus. Also Sum. Theol. I, q. 43, a.5, ad 2. 812 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 approving her new way of life. At a great price and with subtle indirectness she had discovered the fourth level of awareness where the Lord calls to her and speaks in her discernment. Among other factors for diagnosing God's will for her, the crucial factor was the continuous uneasiness or the steady Peace at this fourth level. A second quick example illustrates these same points in a less extra-ordinary way. One day in a community corridor I met a fellow Jesuit who had just returned from home. He said to me, "You know my younger sister just died, I discovered two weeks ago that my doctoral thesis of a year's slaving has already been written by a South American, I'm wondering whether I can handle the theology courses scheduled for next year, and I haven't slept more than four hours a night during the last two weeks. But do you know? I must be crazy. Down deep I'm at peace, God loves me and will help me work out these things, I worry at one level of me; but at a deeper level I feel at peace." Could it be that this man is discovering with new clafity 'and enjoying with fuller appreciation the fourth level within his experience--precisely because of the striking contrast between the top three levels of suffering-sorrow and this fourth level of serenity-security? But what is this fourth level so poetically described as the underground river of God within us? First of all, its peace ap-pears to be a sense of God's approval, almost a companioning of the person by God, On the other hand, its uneasiness seems to express God's disapproval which produces an emptiness and loneliness. Secbndly the experience of peace or uneasiness is implicit to the top three levels; that is, it is recognizable by contrast with these levels yet is hidden under and within them. Thirdly, because of its depth and implicitness, this fourth level is difficult to describe directly. Instead, one offers experiential case-histories with the hope that the latter can point within the hearer'sexperience to his or her fourth level. For this reason, too, metaphor ("underlying river of God," "the ocean floor of life-experience" and "the background music of our activity at the top three levels") is employed rather than neat definitions composed of essential char, acteristics or criteria. Fourthly, the peace of the fourth level is marked by a passive alertness to.the top three levels of activity, an intent listening at the fourth level, a sense of not being along, a wi!lingness simply to be and to let be, an expectant openness to all future events. Yet at the same time, this peace permeates, patiently strengthens and lends finer quality to all the activities at the top three levels? What Is Happening at the Fourth Level? Peace. One event of vital importance seems to be happening at the fourth level: peace, a perduring serenity even amid storms at the top three levels. ~ Prayer experience at the fourth level bears a number of resemblances to what Karl Rahner describes as transcendental experience in his Foundations of Christian Faith (Seabury, New York, 1978), pp. 20, 21, 54, 58. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 813~ Once the four levels are distinguished, it becomes clear that the word peace can refer to at least four different states in a person's awareness. At the first level, peace would mean enjoyment of life's little pleasures without its normal irritations. Confer television's beer and cosmetic advertisements for further clarification of this bodily peace. At the second level, peace could well mean a combination of good health, unworried mind and settled emotions. The fisherman, safe from the office telephones and watching the sun rise over water dimpled by surface-fee~ding trout, may well be the symbol of tl~is peace of mind. At the third level, peace may be euphoria, the neatly balanced inner life of felt achievement, of skilled competence, of fully satisfying family life, of pleasant prospect. For examples, look at the All-American father or mother in the Geritol or insurance-annuity advertisements; or, .better, look to the disciplined people who are willing to suffer much for the good of others. This could be called peace of heart. As we have mentioned, the top three level~ of peace, when disturbed, can reveal by contrast the fourth level of peace. Evidently, when one is recollecting himself or sinking into himself to discover his center of being so that he can pray better, he is actually dropping down through the three upper levels of awareness so that he can reach the fourth level where life flows most richly, quietly, serenely. He will note how the peace of this fourth level tends to render peaceful the upper three levels and he will understand better the restlessness of those who appear to have everything but lack peace of being or person. So, h'~ will discover that fourth-level peace is not just the concern of the wise, the religiously inclined~ the fortuna~tely educated; it is the goal and hope of every living person. Indeed, this is precisely what the Taoist, the Buddh.ist, and the transcendental meditator seeks. Yet not all seem to recognize the fourth level cli~arly for what it is: the felt presence of God. And quite a few seem unwilling to pay the price of such .recognition. For the price i~ double: (1) a sometimes painful discerning of ~what factors are operating within the fourth level and (2) for the Christian, the consequent willingness to accept the call of Christ (n6w heard more clearly,) and to respond to it more generously. Let us attempt some exploration of thesetwo points. Discernment. A spate of articles and floods of conversation about discern-ment make it one of the "in" terms. As luck would have'it, the mystery of discernment is not lessened by all this attention. Nor will this article do anything more than try to show where discernment takes place~ To put it starkly, discernment occurs radically at the fourth level.6 What 6 In using the term radical discernment to point to God's approving (peace) or disapproving (uneasiness) movemeni within the fourth level, I do not intend to discount the other convergent factors which go into the full discernment process, e.g., the weighing of reasons pro and con, obe-dience to lawful authority, spiritual direction, the testing of the decision in the actual living of it, use of Scripture, the calibrating of patterns of past behavior and accomplishments (the direction 814/Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 this:statement means become clearer only after one defines the events (or states) of desolation, consolation, depression, and elation. For it would seem that these four states occur only at the upper three levels. In other words, although desolation and consolation are used to read the spirits influencing a person to good or to evil, and although they may well appear to intrude upon the fourth level, still they are quite distinct from a perons's peace or lack of peace at this lowest level. Nor do depression and elation enter the fourth level of man's awareness even though they can obscure the peace or uneasiness of this level. Consolation-Desolation, Elation-Depression. It is necessary to define these four terms experientially in order to understand and to test in one's own awareness the truth of the above statements. First of all, though desolation can cause depression and intermingle with the latter almost inextricably, still desolation is not the psych.ological state of depression. For desolation is induced by the evil spirit, not by the psychological dy~.namisms causing depres-sion such as extreme fatigue, poor self-image, seemihgly depreciatory actions by admired people, neurotic or psychotic impulses, and so on. In addition, desolation has spiritual effects, i.e., those based on faith experience. Thus the person undergoing desolation feels that God igat a cold distance or does not exist at all. This person finds himself convinced that he has no future b~cause he can do no good for. anyone, least of all for the kingdom of Godl He feels totally unloving and unlovable for God and his people. On the other hand, depression is not concerned with faith-o.bjects such as these, but is involved with natural goals and hopes which, however, can be easily entwined with faith objects, e.g., when th~ nun-teacher estimateg that her attempt to write a biology book is being thwarted (depression) by her own lack of competence or (paranoia) by the devious enyy-tactics bf the department chairman so that as a result she cannot Contribute to God's glory and his kingdom. To put all this succinctly, depression paralyzes or weakens the human as human; while desolation freezes or enerx~ates the Christian as Christian. Thus it almost goes without saying that consolation is not elation since of one's life), and so on. But I am saying that in the midst of complex decisions, peace or uneasiness at the fourth lex;el is the predominant factor to be considered. For often enough the reasons pro and con cancel each other out; authority often gives such broad directives that numerous alternatives are left open; spiritual direction can only help the directee discover for himself or herself the peace or uneasiness; testing of the decision in practice can be somewhat ambivalent; use of scriptural prayer is itself tested in terms of consolation and desolation which, in turn, are discerned in terms of peace or uneasiness; patterns of past behavior do not fully account for new demands of life, new turns on the road of life. For more on discernment, confer Karl Rahner's The Dynamic Element in the Church, (Herder and Herder, New York, 1964) Part 111: "'The Logic of Concrete Individual Knowledge in Ignatius Loyola." Thomas M. Gan. non and George W. Traub's The Desert and the City (Macmillan, Toronto, 1969) Chapter VIII: "The Logic of Christian Discernment" says much clearly in short compass. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 815 strengthening consolation ~(as distinct from Satan's eventually debilitating elation) is caused by God, not by such psychological dynamisms as the sense of worked achievement, the feel of competence in skilled activity, the reassurance of someone's deep affection, the hope of career-success, the discovery of one's deepest self. Fo~ consolation, unlike the elation which it can cause and enter, is concerned with faith-effects. That is, God consoles me with the inner faith-vision that he pervades the whole world, with the hope that I can do much for him and his people, with the certainty that I amcapable of deep devotion to the triune God and his people, Briefly, consolation is the state of feeling cl.ose to self, God, and others; just as desolation is the state of feeling isolated from God,. others, and even one s self, Consolation ~s a deep sense of the commu'nion'~of saints because of the felt presence of faith, hope, and charity; while desolation is experience of the utter loneliness of hell. Only God can cause consolatio.n; just as Satan is the sole cause of desolation, a deliberate attack on the three God-given virtues of faith, hope and charity. And both pheno~aeha occuronly at the top three levels of a person's experience- .Dryness in Prayer. Obviously, when consolation and desolation are swinging back and .forth (along with elation and depression) in one's experience, one feels no "dryness in prayer." For this dryness is the state of normalcy, the middle balancing state between the swings of consolation and desolation, of elation and desolation. Indeed, it is the state of~everyday living. Thus, dryness in prayer is not necessarily a sign of God's displeasure. For one cannot undergo the alternations of desolation-consolation or of depression-elation over.long periods of time without becoming exhausted'physically as well as spiritually. There must be periods of so-cailed~dryness if only so that the con-solations and desolations may be felt with refreshed sensitivity. It should be noted here that there is a dryness induced by ungrateful or disloyal actions, by petty selfishness, by clever screening out of spiritual insights which might disturb Complacency. This is when God declines to speak to Us with Consolation lest he seem.to approve our.state, and when Satan does not want to disturb our foolish self-satisfa'ction with desolation. But this dryness of complacency is not the normal dryhess in prayer even though both types of dryness occur within the same top three levels and can intermingle or at least succeed each other This intermingling makes it necessary to enter the fourth level of e~xperi-ence to explain~what normal dryness in prayer is. For underlying this dryness of the top three levels, can be a perduring sense of being right with God, of not being alone, and even of companioning God--despite all one's mistakes, shortcomings, and sin~fulness. This fourth-level, implicit sense of God is itself a prayer of quiet calmness which gives endurance, balance, and centering to all our spiritual living.~ This prayer of trusting expectancy would seem to be the somewhat experiential divine presence of which Aquinas speaks. Here the 816 ./ReviewforReligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 person is, in the words of Hans Urs von Balthasar, "a sustained utterance of prayer.''8 For this reason, such prayer can go on underneath one's fatigue, distractions, deadness of feeling, fitful sexual urges, tightening tensions, twitches and quirks. The quiet, hidden (not explicitly conscious) presence of God is supporting all the events at the tbp three levels of experience as one studies educational theory, works crossword puzzles, sells toothpaste, kisses children goodnight, and argues with one's spouse; This is why the :fourth level of experience can be described as a great underground river which quiets, stabilizes, nourishes, and guides the praying person. It is that which enable us literally to pray always. For, to change the figure, peace of the fourth level is like the quiet background music to all our endeavors on 'the upper levels. Again, this peace is the sense of carrying within oneself the Center of the World and of having nothing to fear (See Rm 8:35-39; I Co 3:21-23). Seeming Dereliction. For these reasons, even a partial obscuring of the fourth level can be a confusing, even an initially frightening, experience. When one'~ sense of the indwelling presence of God seems clouded in some way within the fourth level itself and not merely by desolation or depression at th~ top three levels, one experiences a certain dereliction. One.feels cut adrift, terribly alone, like a solitary canoeist drifting on a great body of night water. For the fourth level contains the center of one's universe, the hope of one's total future, the sourse of one's strength to love when not loved back. Of course, the fourth level of experience is never completely obscured; God is never far away. In fact, our very vulnerability and helplessness prob-ably make us, like the waif, even more appealing to him. Yet because this feel-ing of atheism at the fourth level is often accompanied by a convergence of outside calamities affecting the top three levels (confer the example of the Jesuit mentioned earlier), the suffering is acute. In fact, the sufferer needs the reassurance of spiritual direction as much as the storm-engulfed navigator needs clear sighting on the North Star. Still, in this seemingly total absence of consolation, to say nothing of elation, there perdures the subtle peace of God's presence never doubted even though ba~ely felt. Indeed, after the tem-porary dereliction, one feels more sensitive to peace', more alert to G.od's movements within the fourth l~vel.9 ' A wise and experie~ntial description of prayer amid dryness is Leonard Boase's Prayer of Faith (B. Herder, St. Louis, 1962), especially Chapters IV and V. (Paperback reissue: Our Sunday Visitor Press, Noll Piazza, Huntington, Indiana, 1976, a somewhat rearranged edition). ~ Hans Urs yon Balthasar, Prayer(Paulist Press, New York, 1961), translated byA. V. Littledale, p. 36. (Though not easy reading, this book gives deep understanding of prayer. One of its surpris-ing insights is that "even the dark night of the soul, the total absence of consolation, is a form of consolation" (p. 239). The paradox would seem to be that the ve~:y endurance of desolation with trust and love is itself a type of consolation. , * In his When the Well Runs Dry (Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, 1979), Thomas H. Green, S.J., has provided an encouraging synthesis of Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Leonard Boasei and The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 817 Levels of Prayer. Consequently, as one sinks down past the first or sensuous level where vocal prayer finds expression, past the second and third levels where meditative and affective prayer predominate, and into the fourth level where prayer of.simplicity (simple being) occurs, the praying person hears more and more clearly the call of Christ within. Here one listens with a deeply passive alertness underneath the swirl of activities on the top three levels.'° Here the God-hunger is never sated; here in faith one feels heard, faced, touched by the Other. From here one responds with a surprising strength and tenderness. For, from here an all-embracing hope reaches up through the top three levels to say: "There will always be someone to serve and to love wherever I go, whomever I meet, whatever be the conditions of myself and others," From here love explodes up through the top three levels in strong generosity: "How can I give joy to my friends, coworkers, people I serve? How can I help each discover his or her deepest value and find this in each other and in Christ?" Thus, at the fourth level one seems to discover the peaceful river of God's mysterious presence, the radical source of discernment underlying consola-tion and desolation, the prayer of quiet calmness underneath the normal dryness of routinized life, the sometime feeling of dereliction when God is Closest, and the source of exuberantly hopeful generosity at the call of Christ. Influence of the Fourth Level on the Top Three Levels Despite its many levels, human experience is a unified focusing on the world, God, and self. So, it is not surprising that the peace of the fourth level percolates up through the upper three levels--with varying results. For example, in flooding up into the top three levels, this peace may make a face radiant, give added physical strength, direct strong emotions into creative activity, lend stable purpose .to one's thinking, imagining, feeling, deciding. Under these conditions even the ordinarily dour person will occasionally appear to be cheerful and rather outgoing. Because joy and lightness of heart are not infrequently a result of this pe~ace, people may rashly judge that a per-son undergoing deep sorrow at the third level is strange because of "his being unmoved, his quiet smile." On the other hand, uneasiness felt at the fourth level can move up and disturb. A person may be fe~eling euphoric at the top three levels and yet expe-the Cloud of Unknowing, within his own experience of prayer and of giving spiritual direction. ¯ Especially helpful are Chapters IV, V, and VI where he imaginatively and succinctly describes the Dark Night of the Senses and the Dark Night of the Soul. ~o M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., works with brilliant clarity at this fourth level in his two articles "Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet" (REwEw FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 35, 1976/5, pp. 651-662) and "Progress in Centering Pr~iyer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS, VOI. 38, 1979/6, pp. 833-838). These are complemented by Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O., with his "Cultivating the Centering Prayer" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 37, 1978/1, pp. 10-15). 818 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 rience a vague restlessness; 'amid continuing success, the man who has everything may feel a sense of incompleteness; within a totally secure situation ("I simply can't lose") a sense of impending chaos sends up ripples of fear from the fourth level. When this happens, people will sometimes~seek to distract themselves from this basic uneasiness. They will overwork., start an unending process of job-jumping, try multiplemarria.ges, haunt psychiatrists, exhaust themselves .on attractive trifles like stamp collecting, golfing, crocheting and televiewing. St. Augustine's description of his ownfascinatio nugacitatis is a case history of one man's twenty-year struggle with constant uneasiness at the fourth level. But if peace from the fourth level is arising within a person's euphoria at the top three levels, it acts as a stabilizing ballast to the ballooning emotions and exuberant activities. For its very perdurance at the depth of one's being gives a sharp sense of the temporariness of success. Indeed, the .implicit awareness of God at the fourth level helps us to feel, as well as to understand, how relative are all events and things compared to the absolute faithfulness of the Lord. In this way, contemplation is permeating not only the top three levels of experience but entering into all the activities issuing from these levels of experience. The duality of contemplation and action is becoming more and more unified as the active person becomes more and more aware of the fourth level of experience. For the prayer of simplicity at the fourth level, in penetrating the top levels of experience, gives a new alertness to God's presence in others, a renewed hope in people's future fidelity, a deeper con-fidence in God's providence. Lastly, it should be mentioned here that the neurotic or psychotic person, if put in touch with the fourth level,, may find a new source of hope. Underneath all the disturbances at the top three levels where the psychiatrist competently works to free his client from constricting fears, is the fourth level where the spiritual director competently tries to help a person interpret God's call. Because these four levels intermingle, both the psychiatrist and the spiritual director must know something of the other's area of competence, must learn to respect each other's discoveries, and must cooperate to help their client accept and live within his limitations. In this way, the neurotic or the psychotic can slowly learn that God will be daily with him, that he can hope against hope without this being just another contradiction, that he is lovable and capable of loving, that, like Theresa of Lisieux, he can become a saint. '~ Four Dimensions of Prayer Experience. Once we have indicated, how the fourth level of awareness intermingles with and influences the other levels, we " In his Storm of Glory (Doubleday, Garden City, New York, 1955, Image) John Beevers indicates that Theresa of Lisieux struggled with personality imbalance of a serious nature from her mother's death (Aug. 28, 1877) until her miraculous cure by the Blessed Virgin (May 13, 1883). See pp. 34, 41-43. The Fourth Level of Prayer: Mystery / 819 are in a position to change the metaphor of "levels" to that of "dimensions" of experience. For human experience is marvelously unified and thus all the levels of awareness do permeate and mutually modify each other in forming a single human consciousness. For example, the fourth level contains the deep root of every prayer. Yet this prayer flowers differently, e.g., into prayer of the feelings and imagination at the third level, into reflective-meditative prayer at'the second level and into vocal prayer (action-prayer) at the first level. This is why these forms of prayer can be equally profound, can succeed each other quickly during a fifteen-minute period of prayer, can support and challenge each other, and can vary in intensity as does conversation between two human beings. This interchange between levels of prayer experience is also the reason why discernment, though founded radically at the fourth level in basic peace or uneasiness, nevertheless also occurs at the third level in the shapes of consola-tion, desolation, obedience, friendship; at the second level in terms of Scrip-ture, historical memories, and reasons pro and con; and even at the first level in the setting of such conditions for discernment as fasting, silence, and mortification. Obviously, then, the presence of God, so intimately and per-duringly active at the fourth level, is not limited to that level of awareness. Consequently, to change the model of explanation from "levels" to "dimensions" is not to deny the distinctions among the four levels and to homogenize their diverse influences on each other. Rather, it is to assert con-comitantly the remarkable unity of a praying person's consciousness. This is to say that all four levels, while remaining distinct, nevertheless are como penetrating and mutually influencing each other like distinct eddies in the single stream of human consciousnesL ,Some Cautions About the Fourth Level Because the above description of the location and the dynamics of the fourth level is rather crude, one must carefully assess one's own experience to see if it somewhat fits this description. One should not be unduly surprised if things are not totally clear. Then, too, one's spiritual director should be con-sulted for the necessary qualifications of the many flat statements made above. At the heart of each person is the deepest mystery and this article can hold only a fitful candle-flame to it. It is hoped that the shifting shadows accompanying such a flame will not obscure the basic contours outlined. For there are many, many layers of experience, and consequently, many, many interpretations of them to be considered. Still, no matter how many levels of experience, there is always the last and deepest level of man's being where union with God is radical.'2 ,2 Would it be outrageous to predict that growing sensitivity to the fourth level of experience will occur through steady practice of the examen of consciousness? 1120 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Further, though God may be most present and most clearly speaking at the so-called fourth level, still he is also present in all the levels above. As a result, it takes some reflective living to distinguish these levels and to calibrate their functions. So I have been warned: "Only veterans of the spiritual life will really understand what you are saying; others will be mystified or will mistakenly think that they understand--with consequent bad results." In response to this, I can only say that the Lord protects those trying to find him and that no one can escape the facing of mystery deep within himself. It seems to me that we are never "safe" with any mystery, never in control, never ade-quately understanding, always searching and groping, always trusting amid our fears. If we must take chances in order to grow, then here would be the best place of all to gamble. Now Available As A Reprint Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Address R~view for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Journey into Journey--A Reflection Rita Bernard Walton, S.S.J. Sister Rita's last article, "Nomadic Memories," appeared in the January issue, 1978. She resides at St. Charles Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. i was tired, as though at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for I had journeyed into the human condition and had come to the doorway of under-standing that the human condition was so fragile, so delicately beautiful and so unique. I had journeyed and had come to the crossroads of another journey. It was there that I met Jesus in a new and startlingly beautiful way. For many days I had concentrated on the road itself, the dust, the rocks, the potholes, the many trials of faith and trust, the deaths along the way. It was easy to lose sight of the sunshine, even when it was directly overhead, when my mind grappled with the why of human events of suffering and death, events that seemed to crash in, like hurricane winds. Jesus had been my companion on the whole of my'journey, but for awhile I lost full sightoof him as I became enveloped in the dust-cloud of self pity and independence. It was only when I fell, or when I cried out in hurt or pain that my vision cleared enough to allQw me to see that others were just as fragile and beautiful as I, and I saw him in them. Friends tended to my wounds, making his,compassion so real. I continued on my journey, renewed in tasting the empathy that had been portioned out to me. It was when I came to what seemed like the end of my journey, at the crossroads, that my vision cleared in grace and I saw Jesus again. He was standing there right in front of me as though in a line at the bus depot. He was as dusty and worn down at the heels as I was. He had been journeying in the human condition, too. We looked deeply into each other's eyes, feeling recognition flood within as our eyes drank in the sight of the human condition. "I have come to do the will of him who sent me" (see Jn 6:35-40) we both said together, laughing and hugging 821 822./Review for Religious, ~'olume 39, 1980/6 each other as old friends do. Calvary lingered in my bones and memory. We had tasted each other's experience in dialogue often along the way before this. The look in our eyes now spoke more eloquently than words as we recalled our meetings on The Hill. I saw myself reflected in his eyes and came to understand how much he loved so many other fragile creatures like me--enough to die upon that Hill. Suddenly, I saw an endless procession of fragile creatures reflected in his eyes as once again I heard him say: "I have come to do the will of him who sent me. come follow me" (ibid.; Jn 1:43). All through my life I had worked to achieve something and here I was wrapped in the total surprise of being given unconditional love and the knowledge of its depth of meaning, of its desire for response. I felt rooted in time, yet weightless, as my mind and heart saw and felt the others who had responded to his call. I saw Jesus before me gesturing like a white-faced clown who beckons a crowd to come forward. He skipped around gleefully to show the.adventure with him that lay ahead. I felt life and death penetrate me, both at the same time. Self came to life and self died as I stepped forth, lifted by the urgency ofthat leap. I found myself transformed, a new clown among clowns, called to love the human condition. The clowns remind us, with a tear and a smile, that we share the same human weakness. Thus, it is not surprising that, in the:clown, we have a powerful image to help us under-stand the role of, the minister in contemporary society.' I had laughed and cried so often along the way, feeling the human condi-tion fired in my bones, but it was only my own condition that I had felt. I had seen others and so often moved on without feeling. In this leap away from myself I experienced the desire to share in, and feast in the human condition of my brother an~d sister clowns, the soon-to-be Clowns as well as the never-to-be clowns. Jesus had touched my fire-brighted stillness and unharnessed me. I no longer marched in my own parade~ My mind whirled in thoughtful excitement and new comprehension as I" found myself thinking of my Old Testament favorites, friends whose life stories had~ encouraged me to persevere along the way. I laughed when I thought of Abraham. In my own way I understood how he felt having been stirred by Yahweh (Gn 12:1). When Abraham was seventy-five years oid he had an experience 0f God that created a disturbance in the order of his life. Yahweh took possession of him as friend and placed within him the seed for upsetting the known order of the time. Abraham was headed toward a new foundation caused by the deliberate intervention of God into the course of human history. In response, Abraham abandoned his natural roots and "went" (Gn 12:14). Abraham was called to bring life to celebration in know-ing God's affirmation, and he allowed God to alter the course of his life ' Nouwen, Henri J. M., Clowning in Rome, New York, 1979, p. 2-3. Journey into Journey--A Reflection dramatically. His response brought biblical religion to birth. God moved across the existing culture, purified the existing religion and showed himself to be a personal, saving God. Abraham's story is a story of the trials and con-solations he experienced in his need to have faith in the God who called and stirred him. I think Abraham would have made a good clown. His faith touched me as I reflected on his journey into a new land. I, too, was journeying in a new land and realized that love had placed within me, also, the seed for upsetting my known order of time. Jesus had intervened in the course of my human history and created a disturbance in the order of my life with his call to follow him. He walked on my sand and seeded the field of me. He called me friend, beloved; and I felt his warmth. I was unbirthed, in labor to be born, wrapped in silent wonder, wrapped in warmth, encased, ensacked in womb-like nurturing, waiting to become more of who I am. I was born and aging, greying, daily dying, stepping slower, encased, ensacked in tomb-like mystery, waiting to become more ofwho I am. I was spiraling unborn to birth, spiraling birthed to dying, going both ways--to life, to death-- like the seed, dying to be alive. Quantum leap, broken shell, o rising beauty from out of clay, reaching upwards to the Son; I felt the warmth of him who enters and transforms in utter silence and mystery. His warmth pulled my roots down into the numerous sands of time. His warmth pulled my beauty up into the spiraling newness of his life. Ah, the wonder of it all. I was 894 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 nurturing the mystery of God in me, waiting for the moment to be more of who I am. I had journeyed into the human condition and found the footprints of those who had been there before me. I had cried out from my own slavery that held me deep within my selfishness. I had longed for a new freedom. My Lord, I ask you' to lure me once more and lead me out into the wilderness and speak to my heart. Give me back the vineyards of your love and make my troubled valley a gateway of hope. Show me how to respond to you as I did when I was young, as I did when I came out of the Egypt of sin and into the land of freedom in your love. When that day comes, teach me again how to call you "my husband" and no longer let me call you "distant Lord." Take the names of sin off my lips; let them never be uttered again. When that day comes make a treaty for me with all that is wild in me. Break up the battle in me and make my sleep secure. Betroth me to yourself forever, betroth me with integrity and justice, betroth me with tenderness and love. Betroth me to you with faithfulness so I may come to know you. (see Ho 2:16-22) The Lord put Moses before me for reflection. He marks a turning point in salvation history and is a promise, an expectation for the future (Dt 18:15). Moses' journey with God took him to.the edge of fulfillment. He was deprived of the joy of entering the Promised Land in this life. His glance across the Promised Land accepted ownership of it for his people and it climaxed his ministry to them. His glance thrust us forward as a people of God. Glances along my journey, glimpses of future freedoms thrust me forward, too, and helped form me along the way. My living-dying-living is an exodus event that I continue to celebrate in my covenant with God in grace. I had to learn, as did Moses and the Israelites, to live with confidence in God. God wished me, too, to be content with him. Though he provided much manna, he continued to call to a deeper surrender, to total reliance (Dt 8:2-3). Exodus became a present :reality in the celebration of Eucharist. My "daily bread experience" called me to come out of my self-will slavery into the freedom of surrendering my needs to my Provider. I began to learn to live Journey into Journey--A Reflection / ~125 without the securities and comforts that had been baals along the way. He gave to me in "miraculous measure" (see Ex 16:14-31, 17:6) to increase my faith in order to conquer temptations and survive the desert trials. I began to realize that my whole life was dependent upon his sovereign grace and prom-ise. I felt the trust formed within me asI came to a new life, became a truer person, nourished and brought into covenant. My gratitude and trust found expression in the celebration of the Eucharist and in the ways I began to live with others. His all-the-time presence which had cut into my life, became a deeper experience of presence. This "peak:' experience left its mark on me and continues to call me into wonder and celebration and into deeper exami-nation of the heart of my being. I found that I was interacting with the extra-ordinary love of God. Justice, equity and charity e.ntered a new depth within me. "The wages of a day laborer are to be paid before the day is over, before sundown of the day itself, since he is poor and looks forward to them" (Dt 24:15). This thought brought affirmation alive in me. To pay my brothers and sisters their due ,wages before the sun goes down, to affirm them for who they are, for what they do, was to help me to live in sacred truce with my God and with each one of them. Affirmation makes me lovable. God affirmed me by my creation, by my calling to be more along the journey. Affirmation enriched community liv-ing and spilled out over into liturgy where the heart of affirmation comes to a depth of appreciation around the table of the Lord. I had journeyed into the human condition and learned affirmation from God's presence to Abraham, to Moses in the desert, and with me in the desert night into which he had invited me. I realized that finally My self-will cocoon had worn thin. It had cracked. The long hours of darkness and death-like sleep were at an end. A new awaking had flashed through my being, and I felt the pulsation of new life in the deep recesses of my unknown self. I felt my weakness, fragileness, and the limited space this life permits; but I had come to know the unbounded space of time that my Creator has. I felt a flutter in my new wings, faith sustained and overcame the fear of being lifted by the gentle breeze that warmed my wings and lifted them to the sun and sky. There ffere flashes of color and shapes of hope I had never seen before. They surrounded me and formed a world of trust that enhanced the colors I, too, had been gifted with. Wings and color, 826 / Review for fleligious, Volume 39, 1980/6 warmth and sun, gentle .breeze and cracked cocoon, --a new world, a new pulsation of life, and surrender, amen, your will be done. . and I was born, and borne aloft to him on the wings of love. Silence, burst of sound. Darkness, flash of light. " Once entombed, now unwombed, made real. Made real and set free, set free in the desert castle of life, sparked by the Flame of Love, enveloped by the Cloud of the Spirit, held only by the Song of Mortalness and the time to sing it in joy. I was made real, with what was real gone. I no longer fit into the crevices of the past nor in the ways of yesterday. I couldn't speak to yesterday as once I did. I tried and laughter faded, while puzzles formed and pain stood up. Yesterday and I were no longer one, and I had to trust that wings and colors would speak for themselves, that pains would be salved by the Son for I could not fold my wings to return to the cocoon of yesterday. A new form of life was presented io me in my quantum leap; for it to remain effective I knew I had to relate to and affect the world where I lived. I had to examine what would guide and support, my internal strength during my period of adjustment~ I was. on journey with a definite purpose, to keep cove-nant with my beloved God. I knew my quantum leap was a "peak" moment to recall and bring to celebration. I knew that I had to celebrate.by living fully alive, deeply in tune and in harmony with the life that surrounded me. God had funneled me down through many generations of people and I had to live as an important part of the whole production of life. I realized that Jesus held the promise of life. He set me free from sin and death through the sorrow and joy of the cross. Faith and trust had to stay alive in me and come to external expression in the celebration of life. Jesus had drawn me close and changed the structure of my existence. I became aware of his wanting my total dependence, a dependence of love, a life of daily living- " dying-living in the internal martyrdom of the consuming fire of love. I felt like bread dough that had become leavened and I was rising to the proportion that Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 827 he had measured out for me. He asked only for love. His was the action which created laughter within me, a love that reflected itself in a deeper sense of peace and joy. I was given a new identity in living a deeper form of covenant love. I was being built and structured into a new expression of love that gentles, purifies and strengthens as it sets the soul aflame with the desire to serve and love in total unity of mind, heart, and will. Nothing seemed dif-ferent, yet everything was different, is different. There is a new beauty in the air, in the pulsation of life and in silence which is an alive silence filled with wonder. In the silence of wonder I found and. still find my attitudes under reform. My wildness is being consumed further. The cry of the poor wants to be heard; and Jesus asks for a compassionate friend to respond to the cry of pain, of loneliness, of suffering that is crying out from members of his bruised body. In my meeting with Jesus at the crossroads of my journey, in the quan-tum leap of faith, in exodus from self, Jesus had blessed me--blessed me as poor. He brought me to the beautiful awareness of the fragileness of the human condition we all share. In union with him in the blessed poverty of dependence I am learning to share his love-gift. His living word gives me courage and encouragement. I hear him say: You are poor, and I have need of your povertyr your dependence on Me, Blessed are ihe poor in spirit; the kingdom o'f heaven is theirs (Mr 5:3). Your Father, who sees all that is done in secret, will reward you (Mt 6:6). You are poor, and I have need of your poverty to fill the hungry with good things and to give dessert to the poorest poor who are filled even with the crumbs of things, and the little that the poor can share. You are poor. Come! I know the plans .I have in mind for you. Plans for you to seek me with all your heart (Jr 29:11-14), for you are poor with need to find me, with need to listen so to listen to the poor and the poorer-- with a heart's care. 828 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 You are poor. The Plan I have for you is poor, a foolish plan, a prophet's plan. ¯ Console my people, console them (Is 40:1). Go now to those to whom I send you. and say whatever I command you (Jr 1:7). Do not be afraid, for I am with you (Is 43:5). I have called you- pool', I will be with you--poor, passing through the sea.--poor, walking through fire~ poor, you are precious in my eyes--poor, you are honored--poor, and I love you--poor. Do not be afraid, for I am with you. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given reward. You are poor . Come! I lead you with reins of kindness, With leading strings of love (Ho 11:4), for you are poor with need to be fed, with need to be led-- so to, lead, for it is only the led who become those who lead. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty; for the poor are blessed in spirit, heaven is the kingdom that is theirs. It is the Father's given rewhrd You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! I shall feed you in good pasturage. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 829 You will rest in good grazing ground. I will show you where to rest (Ezk 35:14-16) Come! Come to feed the rich who fatten on the spoils of greed. Come! Come to look with me for the lost one, the stray one, the wounded one. Come! Be a true shepherd to them. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father who sees. Who sees that you are poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. I have need for your spirit to be poor, poor enough to be sustained only on manna, on quail, on water, from rock (Ex 16), poor enough to be sustained on providence, the sustenance of the poor. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. Come! Show the anawim the manna for thb seventh day so they may gather and share what few omers they need (Ex 16:23). Bring forward the people tha~t is blind, yet has eyes, that is deaf and yet has ears (Is 43:~). They are poor and in need of your poverty. Your poverty-- my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Sing a new hymn! Let praise resound from the ends of the earth, Let the sea sing praise, 830 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Let the deserts and the cities raise voice! (Is 42:10-11). Your poverty--my song, piped through a bruised reed of foolish clay. Come! Come to the water, thirsty as you are; and though you have no money, come! I make no charge for corn, for wine, for milk. I make no charge for satisfying bread (Is 55:1-3). Come! Give your attention, listen! I know theplans I have in mindforyou (Jr 29:1 l). Come! Come to covenant (Is 55:4). you are poor. Your poverty--my song. My words do not return to me empty. They water the earth. They give growth and seed (Is 55). --seed for the poor. Your poverty--my song. You are poor, and I have need of your poverty, for the poor spirit is blessed. Heaven is the kingdom, a reward given by the Father, who sees . . and he took pity on them. (Mk 6:34). He took the five loaves and the two fish. (v. 41). They all ate., and (v. 42) They collected the scraps remaining, twelve baskets full (Mt 14:20). Come! You are poor, and I have need of your poverty. In grace and love I respond: Let what you have said be done to me (Lk 1:38). I am poor, ° and I have need of your song. Journey into Journey--A Reflection / 831 It took many years to form Israel as a people:. It takes us years to be formed as his beloved. We each experience our own Exodus, Covenant, Tran-sition, and Celebration through many times of stepping but of chronolo.gical time into kyriological moments. So, come! I was tired, as though ~at the end of a long journey. Long it had been, for 1 had journeyed into the human condition to find that the next stage of the journey was just beginning. I have joyfully met you along the way. Come! O God, in mercy bless us; let your face beam with joy as you look down on us. Send us around the world with the news of your saving power and your eternal plan for all people. How everyone throughout the earth will praise you! (Ps 67:1-3, adapted The Way). An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Developmental Stages and the Contemporary Male Novice Jonathan Foster, O.F.M. Father Jonathan is Director of Continuing Education for the Chicago-St. Louis Province of Franciscans. He holds a Ph.D. from the University of Chicago in Adult Education and Develop-ment. His present address is Office of Continuing Education; 3400 St. Paschal Drive; Oak Brook, IL 60521. Writing an article such as this is a precarious business. The study of adult development stages is of fairly recent origin in the empirical sciences. There is some very interesting theory (Erikson, 1963, 1964; Kohlberg, 1968; Levinson, 1978; Fowler, 1978; Vaiilant, 1977), but not an abundance of evidence. Moreover, what theory and evidence exist leave us with no clearcut delimita-tion of such stages. One prominent developmentalist (Neugarten) has in fact stated that all we know is that there is some development in adults. Its precise staging is by no means widely accepted. An article such as this is also precarious because of the subject of interest: novices. They comprise no one adult developmental stage. In recent years in my own community, the age range has run from twenty-two to fifty. To treat them all as "young adults" is obviously to allow some of them to fall through the cracks, or, if you will, off the end. Nevertheless, I will attempt to make some sense out of the evidence we have to date, and apply this to a reasonable estimate of what a novice is. I take the age of a typical novice from our Vocation Center's projection of the next few classes currently in pre-novitiate programs for our province. According to this projection, the age of most novices in the immediate future will fall between twenty-two and twenty-eight. There will certainly be a few older than this. But it is not likely, in view. of current policies, that there will be any younger. The observations I will make here will concern the generality of 832 Developmental Stages / 883 young American adults, from whose company we can assume most novices come. According to Levinson (1978), the essential task of the young adult is to separate himself .from emotional dependence on his family and the social structure from which he comes-- not thesame, it should be noted, as destroy-ing his roots. He does this by exploring different possibilities for making his life and creating a stable life structure in which to live out whatever this separation has led him to. Both elements, exploration and stabilization, need equal attention during this period. In one way or another, ehch of the stages we shall look at attempt to deal with this dynamic. The Developmental Task: Identity and Dream Formation I am treating these two stages as one because of their intimate connection with each other. By identity I mean the ability of the individual to see himself as essentially the same person as he passes through the many, even profound, changes of his life. The first great change in a person's life is the traumatic passage from adolescence to adulthood with all the separation and newness it brings with it. The achievement of identity is not so much the search for something new and frustratingly elusive as it is the maintenance and building of a "unique and reasonably coherent whole".(Erikson, 1968), something that holds together and remains ultimately the same despite the shock of change, and the addition of the new. In other words, "identity" is not exclu-sively drawn from within. It is built on a given reality growing out of the experience of community, persons, the historical times, and especially at this age, out of ideology. Ideology is a vision according to which the individual wants to live. Identity in this ideological sense moves into dream formation, a concep-tion of life that the individual picks oi~t as most suitable to his personality. Identity is thus not a mere summation of all experiences a young man has. It is the process by which he tries to integrate what he already knows about himself with elements of experience that seem to promise him a vision and purpose by which he can live and give meaning to life. In this process he must perceive himself as at core unchanged. The question he must answer at this stage of life is simply, "Do I fit with this dream?" Several elements go into the achieving of this identity. One of the principal catalysts is the attraction of a strong ideological system, such as, for example, the Franciscan way of life. This is the "dream." It may stem from a purely ideological contact with St. Francis. But it does not become a real and viable dream until it is experienced in a vital institutional reality, and in attractive personalities living it out. In accepting and trying out the "lived dream," it is especially important that there be at least one special person who embodies that dream, and inter-prets it to the new aspirant in a way that has personal significance to him. This 834 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 is the mentor so often spoken of today. He is not typically a hcro at a distance--though this is possible--but, in our context, a committed religious who shares the younger religious' visionandwho pays special attention to the latter's apprenticeship in that vision. The first reality is probab!y of more significance to older communities with well-known and charismatic founders. We find it particularly so in the Franciscan order, whose founder is one of the most popular and attractive men in history. The problem is this, that today, to a far greater extent than in earlier years, young men are attracted to the Franciscan order precisely by the dream, with relatively less experience of those who profess to embody it. Up to fifteen years ago, most aspirants came to the order out 6f heavily Franciscan contexts, attracted, not by the historical vision of St. Francis--of which they had but a dim view--but by the actual way in which Franciscan priests and brothers lived their own vision of religious life, or by a traditional piety which was, upon close examination, barely distinguishable from that of any other religious order. The dream that attracts candidates today, however, is more often.in touch with the historical view. Candidates thus are more likely to be confused and puzzled by their encounter with many friars who entered the order out of con-tact with Franciscans, not St. Francis, and who may seem, therefore, to the candidate to have rationalized the historical "dream" away. It creates in him, moreover, great insecurities that perhaps his vision is not a real one, or that "those who count" may not view his "dream" as an acceptable version of the Franciscan vision. It is for this reason, once more, that the mentor is extremely important to the young religious, to reassure him--perhaps even to play the advocate before "those who count." In this connection, it seems desirable that the place where novices live should not feature a uniform view of the particular order's "dream." Both staff and community should display some diversity in interpretation of that "dream." Thus both mentor and community can at once challenge and support the candidate's perception of the "dream." Another identity-related problem with this age-group is the prolongation of the moratorium (Erikson, 1963). This is a period of life, usually beginning with adolescence and lasting an indeterminate period (often well into the mid-twenties), in which an individual, committed to nothing, explores and plays with a variety of possibilities or dreams. This is an entirely legitimate develop-ment, perhaps one that many of us never fully undertook. Ideally, it ought to be completed by the time of entry into novitiate, but in today's society, which increasingly delays adulthood, it is not at all unlikely that a candidate will try novitiate with the same degree of uncommittedness as he might hax~e tried being a cowboy in the nineteenth century. Novitiate, it seems, implies some degree of commitment to the dream, and"should not be 'viewed as a moratorium experience. A third problem is that young adults at the "identity-dream formation" Developmental Stages / 835 stage are given to caricaturization. In an attempt to make the dream fit, and fit so securely as to cover all aspects of the aspirant's reality, he tends to see it in terms of black and white. Consequently, he tends to portray his chosen dream somewhat unrealistically, and even to be intolerant of other dreams. The attraction of young people to an oversimplified view of life and reality is well known, and applies just as much to novices in religious orders. Kohibert (1968) and Fowler (1978) have both pointed out that people at this stage of development make moral and religious judgments primarily in terms of their commitment to a particular group of people or an institution which they see as embodying their dream. This is distinct from making judgments in terms of abstract principles applicable to one~'.s own group as well as others. Such a development is perhaps natural and necessary. However, the activity of an overzealous or overly charismatic director--or indeed mentor--can play directly into this .,caricaturizing tendency and allow it to sharpen into a dangerously unrealistic view of life. A further problem is that powerful religious conversions sometimes occur at this stage. Individuals allow themselves to be so overwhelmed by a vision or dream .that they cease to see continuity between what they were before the conversion and what they see themselves to have become because of the conversion. Indeed often they do not want to see the continuity. Such conver-sions, apart from rare cases, are obviously disruptive to the developmental process of identity formation. Of some interest to directors of a novitiate, which, ambng other things, is a time of an intense and unremitting daily round of organized prayer, is the attitude of young adults towards organized religiosity. It is in the latter phases of identity formation that participation in formal religious practice is typically at its very lowest ebb. This usually reflects the individual's attempt to separate himself from dependence on his family and culture, including the religious structure bound up with that. The fact is that it is precisely in the novitiate year that aspiring religious are subjected to the most intense exposure to formal religiosity they will perhaps ever know, and this may rub a bit excessively against the developmental grain. Some caution must be urged, too, concerning the possibilities of contem-plation at this stage. True religious contemplation--by means of which the individual, while retaining his identity, is drawn out of himself into union with God--is objectively oriented. It assumes some stable sense of identity. It is for this reason that religious contemplation is not normally found in young adults and most often flourishes in the more contented self-acceptance of mature adulthood. What passes for contemplation among the young is more typically a preoccupation with the achieving of identity than the handing over of this identity into union with God. The young adult is by developmental necessity more self-centered, indeed self-absorbed, than other-centered. Novitiate directors need to keep this in mind when inculcating habits of prayer and contemplation. To speak of the novitiate as a "year of contemplation" 8:36 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 can be misleading, and even, in terms of what both novices and their directors expect to happen, damaging. The Developmental Task: Intimacy Intimacy is basically the task of learning to establish close relationships with others, to respect human beings as ends, not mere means, of learning to communicate. It is a form of love, and it is the love that characterizes persons at this age. Erikson (1964) distinguishes this love of Relationship from the love of Care that is characteristic of the more mature adult. The task of intimacy may be described as one of the major tests of a person's identity. If this identity is'securely in hand, then one is capable of risking it in relationship, and indeed must do so. If the identity is not secure, intimacy is more difficult to achieve and is often avoided or at least sim~ated. Most young people, however, make serious forays into intimate or quasi-intimate relationships at this stage. Intimacy is indeed the task that marriage at this age seeks to accomplish. The relationship is not, however, exclusively heterosexual, although this is the typical form it takes. Erikson (1964), in a phrase reminiscent of St. Francis of Assisi who urged his brothers to exercise a mother's love for their confreres, wrote that intimacy also happens when "young adults become sons of each other." The failure to achieve intimacy results to some degree or other in isolation, the inability to relate deeply. A number of structures will be important in a novitiate to enable the process of intimacy achievement to go forward. Obviously, there must be opportunities for the development of friendships, including friendships with women. Some friendship will be available within the community, but since friendship-making is highly selective, this may not always be the case. With the smaller novitiate classes prevalent today, making intimate friendships has become more difficult. Larger classes make such relationships more possible. Smaller numbers limit the possibility. Given these smaller numbers, the importance of locating the novitiate in a community which includes a substan: tial number of other religious seems important. For this reason, close friend-ships outside the novitiate community cannot be excluded either. Hence the advisability of allowing, indeed encouraging, other forms of maintaining friendship contact: visits, correspondence, telephones. The mentor is very important to this task. The mentor-relationship is an intimate one when it is exercised in spiritual direction, confession, or simple friendship. There is indeed a case to be made (Levinson, 1978) for the "Special Woman" as mentor to the young male adult. In this relationship, intimacy expands easily into a heterosexuality which is less threatening to the celibacy aspect of the dream. A lived brotherhood is important for the young adult. Not only does it increase the likelihood of selective friendship, but failing this, still allows for a considerable amount of sharing at a deeper level. In this respect, the current emphasis in most orders on brotherhood or community is an especially attrac- Developmental Stages / 837 tive aspect of/he dream for young men. The achievement of intimacy in an all-male structure presents special problems. Women, in such situations, tend to get caricaturized. They may be over-romanticized as indispensable partners in the life-journey. They may be feared as a threat to the dream. Or they may be ridiculed as a result of a cultural residue of male chauvinism, a position unfortunately supported by a large segment of the male ecclesiastical establishment. Hence, it is important that novices have an on-going encounter with women their own age, such as for example the inter-novitiate program in the Chicago area where novices from several different communities of men and women meet weekly for study, prayer and informal interaction. However, it is also interesting to note that, even in the larger world, many men get so caught up in their dream, or their career, that women do not romantically interest them at this stage. This may very well describe the situa-tion of the modern novice, as we shall note when we discuss career consolida-tion below. What frequently happens, however, is that once they reach the thirties, some of that pressure lifts, and the quest for intimacy with women starts anew, including a deep interest in marriage. Homosexuality is a form of intimacy, and is, of course, always a problem in the all-male society. This is more true today when there has been some social legitimation of the homosexual friendship. There is simply no way of avoiding this possibility, and directors should understand that an occasional homosexual encounter neither automatically implies homosexuality nor is necessarily grounds for expulsion. Finally, the concern for intimacy explains in part the young religious' preference for one-to-one ministries over the ministries involving administra-tion, leadership and social change. It is the need for people in his life. Developmental Stage: Career Consolidation Vaillant (1977) points out that an intermediary stage occurs between Erikson's stages of Intimacy and Generativity, one that Erikson did not fully consider. This is the stage at which the young adult becomes preoccupied with establishing work skills and climbing the career ladder. It begins in the twen-ties, and lasts usually throughout most of the thirties. What is important about this period is the mastery of a craft, the seeking of approval for one's work and achievements, the thrust of ambition, the excitement of developing a career, the sheer pleasure of work and success. It is a time when the vividness of the dream recedes, and the individual focuses rather on the work associated with the dream. The role of the mentor also declines. Thus, what guides the young adult at this stage is neither parent, mentor, nor even dream. It is the satisfaction of the work itself. What happens at this stage may very well be the triumph of the larger society's "Dream" in the individual, the American Dream of Success and Achievement. Certain it is that American society strongly rewards work, achievement and success. It is not surprising that the 838 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 career-consolidation stage is accompanied to a large extent by the decline of the intense inner life that characterized the stages of Dream Formation and Intimacy. Given the increasing number of older candidates entering religious life, especially those already committed to or having just finished intensive preparation for professional careers, it is important that directors be aware of this dynamism. To the extent that this development stage is at work, the novice must have opportunities to exercise his competence, not, perhaps, in his chosen career, but at least in some area of novitiate life. This means that he shall have to be given some area of responsibility that is more than sweeping a corridor~ He must, moreover, be constantly able to exercise at least the basic tools of all work-competence: the hands, the mind, the imagination," and judgment-making that has consequences. The larger question may be to what extent this professional training and competence already acquired may have on the novitiate experience. Such training and competence may have achieved apart from the dream formation which the novitiate agenda is all about. It may even be somewhat separate from-- even in conflict with -- that dream. Yet it usual-ly has brought continued rewards and satisfaction so necessary at this stage of life. It is not clear to me how a novitiate experience handles such a conflict. But for a novitiate director to simply ignore this previous experience does not seem to me to constitute a reasonable response. These, then, are the stages of development likely to be encountered in a given novitiate class. Because of their fluidity and because of the individuality with which each person passes through them, they are perhaps useful more as mind-sets by the director than as the basis for actual guidelines. Three recom-mendations emerge strongly from their consideration, however. The first is the necessity to view a novitiate as a highly individualized experience. Not a solitary experience, but one which a group of young men move through together, each following to whatever extent necessary his own individual track. Obviously, Group Spiritual Direction is no substitute for individual attention. Which leads to the second recommendation, the need for mentors. Whether this role is carried out by the director, his associate, a chosen spiritual director, or another member of the religious community, its impor-tance is critical. Finally, given the social context of Identity/Dream Forma-tion and Intimacy, it seems important that the novitiate be not a sequestered experience. A director and his novices should not go off to the woods by themselves for a year. They should live in an extensive friar community and they should be in regular, on-going contact with the community-dream-- manifested certainly in its documents, but even more so by regular in-depth contact with the people who incarnate that dream in their lives. Yes Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen is a staff member of the newly erected Dutch Center of Spirituality Om Vuur; Twelloseweg 5; 7419 BJ Deventer, The Netherlands. This article is a chapter from his forthcoming book, Certain as the Dawn, scheduled for publication by Dimension Books (Denville, N J) in the fall of 1980. doration always implies surrender, a fiat. In fact adoration is a surrender of our whole being, a dedication of all our affection, a gift of every minute of our time. Adoration has to be lived; it commands a life-style. Since adoration is the ultimate, it includes everythir~g. Adoration is a Yes, expressed with or without words during prayer, but then lived every single moment of the day and of the night. Being the ultimate, adoration also provides perspective to all that precedes; the total Yes injects meaning into everything that is encom-passed by it. Three concise lines which Dag HammarskjOld wrote in his diary in March 1956, some five years before his tragic death, offer a framework for a meditafibn on Yes. You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning. You repeat your Yes--and all things acquire a meaning. When everything has a meaning, how can you live anything but a Yes!~ You Dare Your Yesmand Experience a Meaning "Yes" is a daring word: it implies arisk and requires courage. It means a leaving behind in order to move ahead. We leave behind what is certain and we ventureinto the unknown. We give up what has become dear and proceed as a ' Dag HammarskjOld, Markings, transl, by Leif SjOberg and W. H. Auden (London, Faber & Faber), p. 110. 839 840 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 free person without looking back. "None of you can be my disciple if he does not renounce all his possessions (Lk 14:33). "Whoever puts his hand to the plow but keeps looking back is unfit for the reign of God" (Lk 9:62). It can be very hard to really say good-bye. A famous French proverb claims it is mourir un peu, a little, dying. It means farewell to people and to things to which we are far more attached than we realized. We give to the people with whom we live and we take from them. Somehow we are more aware of the sacrificing during the actual process, while the receiving becomes more manifest after it has stopped. It is like the various organs of the body which we easily take for granted as long as they function well, whereas we learn to appre.ciate them most when ill. It is only in the concrete leaving that we find out how dependent we are on the things we have collected during the years, how we have become entangled in the small world of our hands, our minds, our hearts. We have developed our own ways of enjoying and asserting ourselves in that small world, even to the point of imposing it on others. We have learned to manage in it. To leave means to cut the ego. That is one reason why we shrink from giving up the past. Being human is essentially living in an exodus-situation. Leaving is part of life. We have to ready ourselves in many .minor rehearsals for the final farewell which is the only absolute certainty of everybody's life. Apart from God, everything in life is transitory: everything biological, social, political, intellectual, etc. The refusal to accept this passing quality of life causes stunted growth, induration, and in extreme cases, neurosis. The early Chris-tians sometimes called their faith "The Way." God is always greater; he keeps us continually on the move. "Here we have no lasting city; we are seeking one which is to come" (Heb 13:14). Jesus stressed that the kingdom of God re-quires the Gift of self: "Whoever would save his life will lose it, whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:25). The giving up of oneself in this life is not done once and for all; it is an ever-growing gift of self and demands an increasing willingness to sacrifice. To leave people and things behind does not mark the end; rather it opens up a new beginning in a wider context. The severing of the umbilical cord introduces the baby into the family; the leaving of the family's security challenges the adolescent to venture into a big world; the renouncing which Jesus demands leads us into the kingdom of God. The pruning is for increas-ing the yield. The Father is glorified in our bearing much fruit. It is not the stripped, stifled, petty life that honors him, but the life which surges to the full. Jesus leads the way. This man-for-others appeals. The reflection of his intimacy with his Father intrigues and invites us. He calls us to follow. We do not know where his way will lead us, but we do have an intuition that it will transform us for the better. If our hearts are cluttered with houses or land, relatives or friends, job or hobby, he is going to set us free so that we can go forward. All that remains will be love--serving God and serving people. The Yes is particularly scary because it is so personal. It affects the deepest 841 in me, where I am most myself. There exists no mold for it. It is my yes, such as no one before me has ever said and in which no one can really accompany me. The Yes condenses my whole self. I have 'to descend into the depths of my self in order to perform the act of my life. The person who wants always to be upheld by others could never go that far. Yet in saying Yes, there is a solidarity with others which gives strength and inspiration. The community of all those who spoke their Yes gives us support. Outstanding is the help of Mary who is an immaculate Yes, a simple fiat. Above all, her Son in his absolutely unambiguous and unrestricted Yes, enables us to dare our Yes: "Jesus Christ. was not alternately 'yes' and 'no'; he was never anything but 'yes.' Whatever promises God had made have been fulfilled in him; therefore it is through him that we address our Amen to God." (2 Co 1:19-20). Nevertheless it remains an adventure to follow Jesus in his Yes. It entails giving up tangible security and the felt affirmation by others. It is an act of faith. "Yes" is a word of freedom; to be authentic it can never be forced. Ultimately it can be said only to a person, not to a thing or an institution. The German author Giinther Grass once wrote an enigmatic little "poem" to which he gave the title "Yes." This house has two exits; I use the third one. Between Anne and Anne, I choose for Anne. The interpretation is said2 to be that both exits of the house lead into meaning-lessness which G~nther Grass rejects. The third exit is not something but someone: Anne. Between Anne the saint and Anne the sinner, between Anne the beautiful and Anne the unattractive, the poet chooses the actual Anne, and through her finds life meaningful. His yes to the real Anne saves him from the existentialist void. Grass' poetic riddle rhymes well with HammarskjOld's clear entry: "You dare your Yes--and experience a meaning." Meaning implies more than an intellectual conviction; it comprehends the whole of life. True meaning is beyond success or failure. The Way leads to the wisdom of the cross; this is a disaster which is a triumph, and a victory which is a catastrophe. The paschal mystery unites the horror of the crucifixion and the glory of the resurrection. The folly of the cross reveals the ultimate mean-ing. The following of Jesus leads beyond the antithesis of humiliation and elevation. The Way leads into a new realm of life where old values acquire a new perspective and where what used to be considered meaningless shows an unexpected significance. Therefore it provides a tremendous strength for making sacrifices. As long as we count the cost, seek our own comfort, fight for our position or strive for recognition we have not yet said a whole-hearted gsef Sudbrack, S.J., in Geist und Leben 48, October 1974, pp. 346-347. 842 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/6 Yes nor experienced the true meaning of life. You Repeat~Your Yes--and All Things Acquire a Meaning It is not enough to say Yes just once, It has to,be repeated over and over again. We have to set out on a way and we have to carry on step by step. Our Yes is a growing reality; the further we go, the deeper and richer its content. The resistance, of course, is always there. We do not want to reiterate it in ever new circumstances. We find ourselves, like Jacob, resisting the angel of Yahweh (Gn 32:23~33). During the night Jacob crosses the ford of the Jabbok and untildaybreak he wrestles with aman whom he does not know is a divine messenger. At the end of his fight he asks for the stranger's blessing. He then receives a new name, Israel, meaning "you contehded with divine beings." In his struggle against God he becomes injured and keeps on limping. It is a strange, but .typical story. How difficult to recognize God in his numerous disguises. How easy to consider him a threat to be fought. How often is our encounter with God, before it becomes a bow to receive his blessing, first a long, dark ~resistance. How much harm do we inflict on ourselves in that opposition. Every refusal to repeat our Yes does harm to our personality; it stifles our growth, eats out our joy and reduces the meaningfulness of our life. What follows are self-concern, grudges, resentment, compensations, addic-tions of all kinds, polarization which we stretch too far, fencing in against other people. The half-hearted Yes creates impaired persons, very much unlike the kind God wants us to be. "I know your deeds; I know you are neither hot nor cold. How I wish you were one or the other--hot or cold! But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth!" (Rv 3:15-16). The Yes has to be repeated so often that it includes everything in the past, in the present and in the future. As long as there is something in my past which I reject, there is still a screen in me that pr~events my being transparent. That which I repress or resent splits my inner self, or becomes a heavy chain I drag along behind me. It may take time to really accept the suffering or the failure that came to me, maybe long ago, but it is vital that I do accept it. The Yes can create a meaning where first there was none. The repeated Yes will become more mature, more profound, more silent, and eventually it will extract light from the dark, radiance from, the cross. "We know that God makes all things work together for the good of those who have been called according to his decree" (Rm 8:28). To say Yes is to accept the present. It means to acknowledge gratefully the talents and the possibilities I have without thinking that all of them have to be realized. It means to accept my limitations in health, education, character, etc., while at thesame time trying to overcome them. It means to transform gently weaknesses into strength, innate temptations into grace, given potential into a ripe harvest. It means to say Yes to the lives of others and to give them the room and the sympathy they need. It means to accept the situation I am in, Yes / 843 and myself in that situation. To repeat my Yes will lead to self-acceptance which in turn, will make everything else meaningful. It is obvious of course, that the Yes is not identical with a limp settling for anything, neglecting all attempts to improve things. The opposite is true: it is only by accepting them that things can be improved. No effort born of anger, impatience or resentment will bear fruit. An example may illustrate this point. Suppose the parents of a stuttering boy have great difficulty in accepting /he child's handicap. Whenever he stammers, they harshly make him repeat his words. One evening the parents discuss the situation. They both had noticed that the stuttering was becoming worse and they begin to see that the pressure they put on the boy may have something to do with it. So they decid~ to make no more remarks when the child stammers. Both father and mother manage to live up to their resolution, and yet they find that the speech handi-cap is becoming still worse. After some time, they talk things over once more and discover that, in their first discussion, they had changed only their policy, their external approach, but not their interior attitude. They had stopped scolding all right, but they still resented the stuttering. The boy was no longer being reprimanded, but he still felt the pressure of disappointing his parents. At this :pOint the parents break through to a new mentality and accept the boy as he is, with his stuttering. The paradox is that from now onward, the child can slowly improve in his speech because he no longer has to. This is a real paradox: as long as the parents resentfully demanded it, progress was blocked; after thedefect is accepted in peace, it begins to improve. In some cases we are simultaneously both the parents and the boy! The Yes to the future is a stark act of faith since we do not know what ~ve are saying Yes to. It is only the confidence in a person that enables us to say Yes for better or for worse. In the wedding it is the trust in the spouse, together ¯ with our faith in God that allows us to engage in a common future and to accept whatever it has in store. In ordination and in religious profession it is--over and above the reliance on the community--the belief in the living God that constitutes the basis for commitment. Without a strong spirit of faith, it would be utter foolishness to promise solemnly and forever poverty, chastity, and obedience. In fact the beauty and the testimony of the vows con-sists precisely in their being so explicitly an act of faith. When Everything Has a Meaning, How Can You Live Anything But a Yes! The faithful repetition of our Yes eventually leads us to the watershed where life starts flowing in another direction. The uphill climb pays off in a panoramic perspective and gracious ease to live the Yes continuously. The pilgrim has become single-hearted and now sees God everywhere. The purity of his eye penetrates to the deepest Ground of everything and discerns all as grace-filled and meaningful. This in turn reinforces the Yes. Life has become whole and holy. Meaninglessness implies that the various life-experiences are disconnected 844 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 and therefore disconcerting. It just does not make sense! They present a void which creates feelings of despair. They paralyze all efforts to do something about it because they suggest that it is all useless anyway. Suicide becomes an alluring temptation. In the realm beyond the watershed the isolated pieces fall into place and show a pattern never perceived before. Perhaps it is more accu-rate to say that the change takes place not so much in the objective reality as in our view of it. We have finally reached the vantage point where we have the right perspective. The total Yes has rendered all reality transparent and coherent. We feel like Jacob awakening from his dream at Bethel: "Truly, the Lord is in this spot, although I did not know it!" (Gn 28:16). A deep joy a~ccompanies this experience. It is like coming home after a long, hopeless meander. That home is really the presence of God. We now recognize him everywhere, even where previously we had discerned nothing whatsoever of him. He is the bond that connects all. It is the old concept of divine providence which we rediscover in shining newness. Meaningfulness then, is not some-thing, but someone. God has nothing since he is the creator of all. He does not produce something which he then delivers. He remains the living center of all that is; without him, it could not be. In everything he gives, he gives himself as well; therefore he can be found in everything. It is ohly in recognizing God this way that reality acquires its full meaning, is allowed to be all that it is meant to be. The basic trust which is so vital for human well-being now extends to all of reality. "Nothing can separate us from the love of God." (Rm 8:39). The surrender can now be complete. How can we live anything but a Yes? We can join in with Charles de Foucauld in his prayer of abandonment: Father. I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will. Whatever you may do, 1 thank you: I am ready for all, I accept all. Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures-- I wish no more than this, 0 Lord. Into your hands l commend my soul; I offer it to you with all the love of my heart, for ! love you Lord, and so need to give myself, to surrender myself into your hands, without reserve, and with boundless confidence, for you are my father. Others, to art.iculate their gift of self, may prefer the older prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola at the end of his Spiritual Exercises: Take, Lord, all my liberty. Receive my memory, my understanding, my whole will, Yes / 845 all that I have and possess. You have given all to me; I return it all to you. Do with me as you will; Give me only your love and your grace. with these I am rich enough and ! desire nothing more. In Luke's Gospel we find an expression of total abandonment that is still much older and took only one word:fiat. With it Mary chooses obedience as the pattern of her life, "Let it be done to me as you say" (Lk 1:38); through it she surrenders her body to God, and all her possessions are also included in this one act of abandonment. Said in a moment, it is spelled out in a lifetime. As a sheaf is bound in the middle and fans out towards the ends, so the life of Mary, in all its bounty, is held together by this little word. All her years before this moment flow into it and all the rest of her life flows from it. God's grace enables her to say it, and in saying it, she enables God's grace to work in her. It directs her whole beirig towards God and away from selfishness and self-concern. It makes her completely transparent so that through her the Light in its fullness can come into the world. It creates the room God needs to become man. Jesus is the embodiment of. Mary's Yes, the fruit of her fiat; greater fruitfulness is inconceivable. Her fiat in no way stymies her personality; in fact, it brings her utter fulfillment and is the prototype of all Christian fruit-fulness. We come to you, Mother of our Lord and Mother of us all, to thank you for your Yes that gave us the incarnation of God's own Yes and brought life to its fullness. We ask you, teach us to follow you in saying our Yes with faith and courage. You know the cost of living the Yes; protect ours in integrity and joy. Ask your divine Son for the grace always to repeat our Yes with an ever-growing surrender and to experience how this increases the meaningfulness of our life. Under your inspiration may we help to build the kingdom of God today and every day, for ever and ever. Amen. The Social Context of Personal Prayer in Seminaries Stephen Happel Father Happel is Associate Professor of Systematic Theology at St. Meinrad Seminary; St. Meinrad, IN 47577. This article is based on an earlier paper originally published in Learning to Pray Alone (Abbey Press), pp. 34-43. Private prayer is never accomplished without a social, communal context. Individual prayer has not only social conditions and social ramifications, but also social ingredients which quaiify and constitute its very nature. Our private languages are learned in the public forum. We speak to ourselves because others have spoken to us and because we have learned to speak to them. So too with God. Both the personal vocabulary and private grammar of our speech with God are primarily social-ecclesial in their initial stages (whether learned from parents or teachers), in their performance from day to day, and in their various results (ministering to others, praying with others, allowing the kingdom to be formed). If one combines this sense of the social dimension, indeed social constitu-tion, of prayer with its fundamental component, dialogue with the Other, then that Other will almost necessarily have the characteristics of the "social other" experienced at any given point in human development. So, for exam-ple, in one's earlier years, speaking with God is accomplished in the horizon of the discipline and "otherness" of one's parents. Religious psychologists maintain that it is possible atany given point in an individual's life to indicate the creative synthesis of parental figures which qualifies the notion of God.' Thus, I will maintain in the following that "the other" in the seminary context ' See A. Vergote, Psychologie religieuse (Brussels: Dessart, 1966), esp. pp. 294-299, 307. The Social Context of Personal Prayer / 847 will radically qualify the ability or inability of individuals to pray alone. How is "the other" experienced in the seminary environment? Needless to say, the reflections offered here should not be taken so much as judgment, but as description. It may be true that the achievement of human freedom in relation to God is the goal of seminary education programs; but what sort of inter-active freedom does seminary structure actt~ally provide? The typological description of institutional structure which follows is not so much an analysis of any particular seminary as it is the affective grid of the institution-known-as- seminary. I offer it as an hypothesis about the problem, and suggest that facing it constructively may assist in achieving a solution to the problem of praying privately.2 The Perfect Society: A Unity of Transcendentals The seminary, whatever its historical origins, seems to think of itself as an autonomous, indeed "perfect society." In an updated version of this ideal, it would be described as a place in which all would be brothers and sisters; in which power would intelligently persuade and invite to participation rather than willfully force; in which external forms of .religious expression would always mirror interior dispositions; and in which each person's relation to sur-rounding Nature would be in terms of appreciating and creating Beauty, rather than exploiting it. Affect and reason would be coincident; and the Good would necessarily flow from and be the origin of both. The truth would always be told; the good would always be practiced; and the beautiful would be in evidence everywhere. Institutional structure would incarnate and measure this integration; individuals would readily learn to assume the responsibility of living these goal,s; and, as St. Paul says, God would be "all in all." This enlightened reincarnation of Christian society, however, contains two major oversights of fact: namely, the overwhelmingly transient character of a seminary's student population, and what has been gracefully entitled by a colleague of mine "human sloth." These may be described in more classical terms as "the finite character of the human condition," and "original sin." Now the inclusion of these two facts of human experience into our descrip-tion of societal mix does not justify removing the human odcasion for achiev-ing freedom. I do not subscribe to the simplification which would suggest: "Mistakes will be made; therefore remove the possibility of mistakes." But their inclusion does allow us to see what happens when it is assumed that an institution can easily incarnate the human good without reference to the criticism required by the acknowledgement of finitude and guilt. The first consequence of these two facts is that power will inevitably fall to 2 1 am also convinced that some of the problems discussed and the solutions proposed, if utilized, would go a long way in aiding contemporary Catholic seminaries in their task of acculturating the older students who are entering seminary at present. 848 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/6 those who remain the longest in the situation, in this case to the faculty and administration. The second is that this power will be concretized in a bureaucracy which is supposed to "run the system" irrespective of the iden-tities of the participants. Students, faculty, staff, and administration will all feel victims of "the other" who is the system (confer the,response to ques-tions: "That's the way it's done around here," noting especially the neuter passive construction). But because students are the primary mobile popula-tion, they will feel the alienation of power

Issue 38.2 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; Psychotherapy: Its Potential and Limit Models of Community A Directory for the use of Scripture in Retreat Volume 38 Number 2 March 1979 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Depa:-tment of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March, 1979 Volume 38 Number 2 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIC:IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Religious and Social Justice Mary Evelyn Jegen, S.N.D. Sister Mary Evelyn is an adjunct faculty member of Mundelein College in Chicago, and teaches in the Christian Spirituality Program at Creightori University in Omaha. She resides at 3000 N. Mango Ave.; Chicago, IL 60634. istorically we are still in an early phase of the age of the Second Vatican Council. The context of our call to collaborate in the work of human promotion is beautifully stated in the opening words of the Pastoral Consti-tution on the Church in the Modern World (Gaudium et Spes). Here, in language that has the grandeur and immediacy of a psalm, is set forth the intimate bond between the Church and society, or more precisely, between the Church and all humanity: The joys and hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ. When we specify the "joys and hope.s, the griefs and anxieties" of all our brothers and sisters, we find those signs of the times, those temporal sacramentals in which God reveals himself to hs, and through which he calls us forward to .freedom" in him. What, then, are the most visible "joys and hopes, griefs and anxi-eties" for our sister and brother religious today? We recognize in the reality of our religious life itself the most profound sign of joy and hope. There are reasons which transcend history, but there are also historical factors which today take on particular significance. It is a.prophetic sign for our times that religious life carries within it the seed and promise of that global community which transcends narrow nationalism. Today, in a way that has never been 161 162 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 true before, the very survival of the human race depends on the ability to transcend local and national loyalties without abandoning them. And reli-gious have some experience of this. Imperfect as religious life is, carrying the scars of personal and collec-tive sin, it also shines with the brilliance of the healing, redemptive love of Jesus. Because we each have our own congregation and local community, we forget that we also exist as a whole, that we are physically present in the world as a transnational community founded on a commitment to a radical following of the Way of Jesus. World civilization has reached the stage where.its continuation depends on the ability of all men to perceive and express in many ways their solidarity with a race that is fundamentally one. They must learn to experience the unity of the human family which has become increasingly interdependent. Physical and economic interdepend-ence is a fact. The oil-rich countries, if they choose, can paralyze the world. The food-rich countries can starve the world into submission. Neither would need to deploy a single bomb. In such a world, what must become a choice is love. We must love or perish. And how is that love to be expressed? In the words of.Pope Paul VI at the Eucharistic Congress in Bogotb.: "Justice is love's absolute minimum." Reflecting, then, on the nature of religious life as it both expresses and prefigures the necessary evolution of the human family towards unity, we begin to come to an intuition that our transnational nature should manifest itself in signs that can easily be read by others. This becomes even more clear when we turn to a reflection on the other griefs and anxieties of so many of the men, women, and children of our time. In Octogesima Adveniens (1971), Pope Paul called our attention to the "new poor," those on the fringe of society. In actual fact, the "marginal" constitute the vast majority of the human family. These are the ones who do not have access to an equitable share of the underpinnings of life. It is difficult for men to bring this home to themselves when they do not live in daily contact with such all-pervasive suffering. But they are kept at least minimally aware through religious, and others, who have physically cast their lot with the poor. Though there are many forms of human suffering today, two global manifestations of injustice are of such magnitude that the effect can be numbing. These two griefs and anxieties are hunger and the arms race. The first is the greatest actual killer of the innocent; the second is the increas-ingly dangerous threat to the continuation of the human race itself. And the two are intimately connected in a cause-and-effect relationship. Even if the arms are never used, according to a Vatican note to the Secretary General of the United Nations (30 April, 1976), the armaments race "is in itself an act of aggression against those who are the victims of it. It is an act of aggression which amounts to a crime, for even when they are not used, by their cost alone, armaments kill the poor by causing them to starve." Religious and Social Justice / 163 Hunger still condemns 450 million of our brothers and sisters to an earthly existence which is degrading and destructive. The spectacle of 5000 hungry people moved Jesus to active compassion. How are we called to respond to children gone blind for lack of vitamin A, to the grief of parents unable to provide food for their offspring? It is in this context that our Holy Father and the bishops in the 1974 Synod issued a statement on the human rights most threatened today. Under the title of the right to life, they specified the arms race as "an insanity that burdens the world and creates the conditions for even more massive destruction of life." They next specified "the right to eat" as "directly linked to the right to life," and they called upon governments, not merely individuals, "to undergo a conversion in their attitude toward the victims of hunger, to respond to the imperatives of justice and reconcilia-tion and speedily to find the means of feeding those who are without food." Within weeks of that statement, Pope Paul iterated the concept of the "right to eat" in an address to the delegates to the World Food Conference, November 9, 1974. He said: The right to satisfy one's hunger must finally be recognized for everyone, accord-ing to the specific requirements of his age and activity. This right is based on the fact that all the goods of the earth are destined primarily for universal use and for the subsistence of all men, before any individual appropriation. Christ based theju'dgment of each human being on respect for this right (see Mt. 25:34). He went on to make a recommendation linking, concretely two central issues of justice and peace, when he said, As far back as 1964, on the occasion of our journey to India, we launched an appeal to the nations, asking that, by a truly substantial commitment--the result mainly of a reduction in expenditures on arms~there be set up a Fund with the aim of giving a decisive impulse to the integral advancement of the less well-endowed sectors of mankind. Today the time has come for an energetic and bindin~ decision along the same lines. Will such a decision--not yet obtained by a sense of solidarity or rather elementary social justice, which consists not only in not "'stealing" but also in know-ing how to share--finally be imposed by the perils of the present moment? The link between violence and injustice, and therefore, between peace and justice, is. intrinsic. It is p.rophesied in Isaiah: "They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks." Today we cannot have food for the hungry unless we purchase it at the expense of preparation for genocidal war. The call to religious to become engaged in the work of human promotion may take many forms. Certainly the call to re.ligious who form a corporate body, a body transcending national boundaries, is a call to enter more deeply, prophetically, and sacrificially into the struggle for peace and jus-tice, a call expressed in the agony of human destruction through hunger and the agony that witnesses the escalation of preparations for war. Later in thispaper I will try to.suggest some concrete possibilities. "164 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Perceptions of Religious in Various Situations First, however, let us review the different situations of religious in our world, a world which is characterized by the joys, hopes, griefs and anxie-ties described above. In some places, religious perceive as their greatest problem and challenge an oppressive political regime which also stifles religious liberty, threatening the possibility of an authentic catechesis. These totalitarian regimes are related to ideologies of the "left" in Eastern Europe and some parts of Asia, and to the "right," especially in Latin America. In either case, any adequate analysis will reveal institutionalized fear at the rort of oppressive political structures. Ultimately, only the liberty of the children of God tan heal that fear, and we seem a very great distance from that liberty. In other places, Western Europe and North America, for example, religious perceive acutely a responsibility to resist many elements of their society which they see as unjustly exploiting the poor and the weak around the world. If the economic practices of the affluent nations do not always directly cause hunger and poverty, at the very least these practices do not vigorously seek to redress an unjust situation. The gap between the rich and poor continues to widen, as the rich have more goods and more power, even when this is at the expense of the vast majority who have relatively less--less even of the basic necessities of life, and less power over their destinies. That is why a macro-analysis of global economics which includes an examination of trade and financial policies (lending and foreign aid) and of the practices of multinational corporations leads inescapably to the con-clusion that no amount of individual generosity, though it is more in-dispensable than ever, can get at the root-causes of poverty and oppression in our world. Moved b~, the compassion of our Lord, we must turn our efforts towards nothing less than reshaping the political and economic institutions which control the lives of all of us. Surely this is what the Synod Fathers meant in 1971, when they said that "Action on behalf of justice and for the transformation of the world fully appears to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppres-sive. situation." Obviously, we must find ways of acting in concert with many others. To work in any other way would be to admit that either we do not understand the situation or that we do not care enough to become realistically engaged in the struggle for justice and peace. The Spirituality of Human Promotion We are all aware of the phenomenon of the person who burns himself out in activity related to social injustice. This points to the importance of finding the key to a spiritual dynamic which will sustain action without Religious and Social Justice / 165 destroying the person. We find such a dynamic in the reality of freedom or liberty. Freedom is both gift and prize; and, as prize, it is won not once and for all. Rather, it develops organically, as it were, once certain fundamental choices are made. In The Church in the Modern World there is a marvelous description of the external conditions of human liberty. Article 31 reads: Now a man can scarcely arrive at the needed sense of responsibility unless his living conditions allow him to be conscious of his dignity, and to rise to his destiny by spending himself for God and for others. But human freedom is often crippled when a man falls into extreme poverty, just as it withers when he indulges in too many of life's comforts and imprisons hi.mself in a kindof splendid isolation. Freedom acquires new strength, by contrast, when a man consents to the unavoidable requirements of social life, takes on the manifold demands of human partnership, and commits himself to the service of the hum&n community. Hence, the will to play one's role in common endeavors should be everywhere encouraged. This passage aptly describes the external situation of a free person, a person whose life is ordered, by commitment, to the service of the human community, to service by deliberate choice. As the passage points out, this kind of freedom is crippled when a person is caught in a situation where all energies must be expended in providing for survival needs. It is a kind of obscenity to talk about freedom to a person or a nation that is denied access to control over the means of production and distribution of basic goods. But freedom can also wither, and this is, too, the case, according to the passage just quoted, when a person "indulges in too many of life's comforts and imprisons himself in a kind of splendid isolation." This is the state of many people of the rich nations, who have only a foggy, shallow notion of the political and economic realities of most of the human family. We re-ligious must not avoid the continuing and painful examination that looks to see whether, and to what extent, we are among those whose spiritual freedom or maturity (the two are the same) is debilitated by a materially comfortable way of life. The 1971 Synod document, Justice in the World, asked for this ongoing corporate examination of conscience. Have we re-sponded to the call of the Lord in the pointed question (Article 48), " . . . [Does] our life-style exemplify that sparingness with regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world may be fed?" But what is the interior dynamic of a free person, a person committed to the service of the human community? Here, Justice in the World pro-vides a response, founded on a Pauline theology: According to Saint Paul, the whole of the Christian life is summed up in faith effecting that love and service of neighbor which involve thefulfillment of the demands of justice. The Christian lives under the interior law of liberty, which is a permanent call to man to turn away from self-sufficiency to confidence in God, and from concern for self to a sincere love of neighbor. Thus takes place his genuine liberation and the gift of himself for the freedom of others. "166 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 On the personal level, this interior law of freedom involves a call to shift the center of one's existence, or, in the more beautiful words of Jesus, to let the seed die, to lose one's life in order to find it, to lay down one's life for one's friends, knowing that only this is the full measure of love. Only those who are willing to die are free. For us Christians, this willingness can only be a gift, the gift of a growing identification with Jesus in his passion, death, and resurrection. The obstacles to the shift of one's center, or to living in the interior law of liberty, are fundamentally fear and selfishness. These counterweights to liberty are embodied in institutions as well as in the human heart. It is precisely where the process of personal conversion bears on the effort at structural change or conversion that we have a struggle, an "agony," an experience of the mystery of the Cross. Corporate Action for Human Promotion Having reflected on the exterior and interior dynamics of freedom in the Lord, we ask ourselves this question. Are there any ways in which religious across the world could act in concert in'the work of human promotion? The deepest value of concerted action, it seems to me, would be its power to prefigure and prepare for the new forms of transnational political, social, and economic life that are essential if the human family is to live in justice and peace. What are some forms that such concerted action might take? COuld we set an example by modifying our own budgets? Granted, there is a fundamental difference between a national budget and our own. We do not, happily, allocate funds for weapons of war. Nonetheless, we have our own funds for commmunity security and for personal and community goods beyond our basic needs. Are we not called to share these goods more liberally in our moment in history? In the early seventh century, pope St. Gregory the Great said, "Feed the man dying of hunger, for if you have not fed him you have killed him." The quotation found its way into Gaudium et Spes (Article 69). How would Saint Gregory apply that principle to our situation? We would miss a great opportunity, however, if we modified our com-munity budget in favor of children with shriveled limbs and swollen bellies, in favor of the 100,000 persons in Asia who go blind each year for lack of vitamin A, in favor of the malnourished of our own inner cities, and stopped there. We need to link our justified economy with the Eucharist. We could fast in solidarity with our poor brothers and sisters, who fast not by choice but by necessity. That fast could be in conscious preparation for our cele-bration of the Eucharist, the memorial of Christ's own giving of his Body and Blood to be our food. The money saved by fasting could be an exten-sion of our eucharistic celebration, our going together in peace to love and serve the Lord, the same Jesus who nourishes us, and who also hungers for us in his most distressing disguise. Religious and Social Justice / 167 If religious across the world joined together this way, we could antic-ipate our governments in creating the Great World Fund that Pope Paul was urging. We could use our experience to urge other societies to do the same--within religious life, from local community to province to generalate level; beyond our congregations from parish to diocese to na-tional conference. In all this we should remember the norm of Populorum Progressio, which echoes the constant tradition of the Church, that we are asked to share not only from our abundance, but even from our necessities. In this way we act in faith in our Father's providence, and we forge the bonds of loving solidarity with all members of our huma~ family. If Christians also learned to live this way, the climate would be prepared for moving our governments. Truth would indeed be speaking to power. We would experience a profound renewal of our eucharistic life, and our reli-gious life would know a new birth of deepest freedom in Christ Jesus, our Lord. It would, of course, be only a beginning of the ways in which we might celebrate our corporate life in the Lord. But ~iven the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the men and women of our time, it may be an indispensable beginning. Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative' _ Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Psychotherapy: A Consideration of Its Potential and Limit Gillian Straker Doctor Straker teaches psychology at the University of the Witwatersrand in South Africa; she also has a private practice in therapy in the same city. Her address at the university is Jan Smuts Ave.; Johannesburg, South Africa. The purpose of this article is to outline the basic philosophies underlying some of the more popular psychotherapies currently in vogue. Its intention is to assist religious who have been, are, or will be in therapy to come to a more realistic evaluation of the potential and limits of psychotherapy as a facilitator of growth. Given that psychological and spiritual growth are interconnected, it is the thesis of this paper that psychotherapy can be a useful tool--provided its limits are clearly perceived by both the client and the therapist. This involves a realization by both that,while psychological and spiritual growth are related, they are not synonymous. Furthermore, psychotherapy should never be regarded as autonomous in its own right but should rather be seen as a possible means to certain goals. In the case of the religious, these goals have been set a priori. It is not the function of the therapist to attempt to alter theseends/goals or to provide alternative philosophies of life. A religious in therapy who feels that the therapist is more involved in trying to get him to alter his goals than in exploring reasons for his diffi-culties in achieving these goals, should consider terminating treatment and seeking help elsewhere. A therapist who attempts to change goals when a client has indicated a commitment to them, or who subtly devalues these goals by continually trying to explain them away in psychological terms, is 168 Psychotherapy: Its Potential and Limit / 169 indicating not only a lack of awareness of the boundaries of his area of expertise but also an unawareness of his personal limits. It should be clearly recognized that such a therapist is, in a sense, guilty of malpractice and it is such misuse of the practice of psychotherapy which should be con-demned rather than the practice itself. Having drawn the limits applicable to all therapies, it might now be of value to examine some specific therapies in more depth. As has been indicated, it is the personality and personal attributes of the individual therapist which play the most vital role in determining not only the direction of therapy, but also its success or failure. The school to which a therapist belongs is a very important factor, as his allegiance reflects something of his personal ideals and values. A recent survey in America revealed that at present there are more than one hundred and forty different kinds of psychotherapy actually being practiced.~ However, these types of therapy can quite conveniently be categorized under three main headings, viz., the psychoanalytically, be-haviorally, and experientially oriented approaches to psychotherapy. Each of these three schools has a different view of man, which then dictates its psychotherapeutic techniques. The psychoanalytic view subscribes to the idea that man is a victim of turbulent inner forces from the power of which he continually struggles to be set free. In the Freudian view, these inner forces are largely sexual in nature; but later analysts felt that these inner forces were not only sexual but reflected, for example, a will to power, or a will to superiority. In terms of this view man is seen as fraught with inner and unknown urgings and contradictory pulls. He is subject to, and resists against, a reservoir of impulses which are largely inaccessible to the conscious self. He thus is troubled by behaviors and symptoms which he often cannot understand himself and which seem resistant to control by a conscious act of will. The aim, therefore, of psychoanalytically oriented therapy is to give the individual insight into the forces against which he is battling, so as to help him gain more control over his behavior and to enable him to give expression to these forces in a more socially acceptable way. I do not think religious would dissent much with these stated goals. The idea of gaining insight into motives and trying to express impulses in more acceptable ways would probably accord well with the outlook of religious. The.re are some pitfalls however, as there is a tendency among psychoana-lysts to explain all behavior including e.g., a belief in God, as being merely an expression of repressed impulses. A further difficulty which the psychoanalytic approach might pose for religious is in terms of method. In order to encourage the expression of feelings by the individual, so as to facilitate an awareness of desires and ~Parloff, H., Twenty-five Years of Research in Psychotherapy, New York, Albert Einstein College of Medicine, October, 1975. "170 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 needs which have blocked his emotional life, the analyst creates an environ-ment of almost total permissiveness. Such a process which is essential in the analytic situation is surely disastrous as a way of life. Psychoanalytic principles, by their very nature, cannot relate to morality or define limits for permissiveness. Thus, if the client or the therapist perceives that this kind of therapy is to become a life-style, a modus vivendi, the end-point will be an overvaluing of the mind and the expression of emotion, and a failure to move beyond the emotional blocks once they have been uncovered. Nevertheless the value of the psychoanalytically oriented therapies in uncovering these emotional blocks should not be ignored. These therapies are specifically geared for this. Once the blocks have been uncovered, the individual should become free to work through and beyond them in what-ever framework he has chosen for himself. For the religious, Christianity would obviously be his framework, and it is within this that he would continue to work from where the therapy had left off. We turn now to the second major school of psychotherapy, viz., the behavioral school. This school does not see behavior as determined by internal conflicts but rather sees all behavior, both normal and abnormal, as a product of what man has learned. Behavior consists of learned habits reinforced either by the self or by the environment. Thus therapy consists of teaching the individual alternative modes of behavior which have to be practiced both inside and outside of the therapy situation. This school of therapy probably holds the least potential danger for the religious since it deals mainly with overt behavior and de-emphasizes affective issues. This school does not primarily concern itself either with issues concerning in-ternal motivations or with questions concerning ideals and values. However, this very defocusing from self-exploration which diminishes this approach's potential danger is also, in my view, the factor which limits its potential as a facilitator of growth. In addition, the view of man which underlies the behaviorist approach is a deterministic one. As such, it is opposed to the Catholic idea of free choice. Man is primarily seen as a product of his environment, in this de-emphasis on man's capacity for choice, the behaviorists are similar to the analysts, although they differ from one another in the reasons they give to justify this. Nevertheless if the referring problem of the religious is a specific and definite symptom such as a phobia, rather than something less definite, such as generalized interper-sonal difficulties, the behaviorist approach might be the treatment of choice because of its concern with discrete symptoms and overt behavior-patterns. The final main school of. psychotherapy which calls for our present attention is the experiential school. Of the three schools of psychotherapy discussed here, this is the one which in some sense comes closest to the ideals proffered by Christianity. But again, in some regards it is the most dangerous school within which the religious would seek help. Experiential-ists reject the view that man is predominantly passive, subservient to the Psychotherapy: Its Potential and Limit / 171 less conscious aspects of himself, or to the stimuli in his environment. The experientialists criticize the psychoanalysts and behaviorists for their com-mitment to science, and for their underplaying of man's ethical dimension, his will, choices and moral relations to others. This emphasis on man's personal responsibility is what leads the experientialist to seem most sym-pathetic to the religious. However, given that man is considered responsi-ble by the experientialists, the ihamediate question which comes to mind is: "Responsible to whom and responsible for what?" It is at this point that there would probably be some divergence in thought. On the whole the experientialists see man as responsible to himself for the actualization of his potential. This leaves unanswered the question of when one man's freedom becomes another's bondage. However, in partial answer to this vexing dilemma most of the experientialists put forward the view that man is basically good and thus actualization will always involve actualization to the good for himself and others. This is an assumption which lacks full support. Nevertheless, some of the intermediate goals of certain experientialists would not conflict with Christian ideas. Helping the individual to relate in a "meaningful way" is one such goal which the experientialists have. They define a fulfilling relationship as one in which the individuals have come to terms with the paradoxical nature of love, in which love and power are not opposed but complementary. In this kind of love "we find ourselves at our strongest and most powerful when we are able to transcend ourselves in communion with another.''2 This notion of love involving selflessness would accord with the Christian ideal. Similarly congruent is the idea that we are "less-than-perfect creatures who need to live with ourselves as we are, while still attempting to grow toward an unattainable vision.'''~ In terms of this it is the aim of the experientialist not merely to heal illness but to promote growth. However, many experientialists hold an implicit assumption which would conflict with views held by his religious client. This assumption is that man himself, as an autonomous being, has within himself the capacity to bring about his own actualization to good. There is no acceptance of the idea that man cannot bring about his own salvation. There is a belief that man himself can, via various methodologies, aimed at the promotion of dimensions such as self-determination, authen-ticity and creativity, bring about an ultimate integration of his body, mind and soul. It is from this idea that the basic divergence between the experien-tialists and the religious comes. The former believes himself to be respon-sible to himself and at times to society. There is no higher authority than himself, and he is capable of bringing about his own integration. This is totally opposed to the idea of the religious concerning man's dependence on 2Forish, B. "Fulfilling Relationships: The Vision and Reality," J. Humanistic Psychology, V. 18, No. i, Winter, 1978. 31bid. 172 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 God for the integrating gift of grace and salvation. In terms of methodology, this school has hazards because, in its thera-peutic approach more than any other, the personal attributes of the thera-pist are of paramount importance. This is because, on the whole, experien-tial schools renounce specific techniques as part of their understanding of human existence. The therapist is, for the most part, discouraged from applying techniques, although, in some of the more radical branches of this school, nonverbal techniques are used as a means of helping the individual to get in touch with his feelings. Generally, though, therapy is assumed to occur naturally if the therapist can, as far as possible, share the being and experience of the client. It is the mutual encounter between therapist and patient in which both attempt to communicate honestly with one another which is seen as the sine qua non of growth. The experiential therapist, therefore, does not have a contract with the client other than to interact as honestly as he can. Thus the therapist, in his own person, is the primary tool for change. Experientialists are probably correct in stating this and making their assumptions explicit. This means though, that a client entering into this kind of therapy must be aware that what he is contracting for is to be exposed to the person of the therapist. Thus the client must evaluate more than ever whether he has confidence in the therapist as a person, not primarily as a psychologist or trained expert who has something to offer. If the answer to this is negative, then it is best not to enter into the contract of such a relationship. If the answer is affirmative, this school could offer something very positive because its therapists are committed to being honest, making their own values, beliefs and assumptions explicit in a way which the psychoanalysts, for example, are not. Thus, in psychoanalysis, the influence of the values of the therapist are much more subtle, and therefore difficult to deal with. However, in some ways this disclosure of values is less important in a psychoanalytic situation because the goals of the approach are limited to freeing the individual from repression rather than the more extended goal of the experientialists to promote a "higher level of consciousness.''4 Of course it is for the individual religious to °decide what it is he wants from therapy. In my view, though, for the religious, therapy should perhaps end at the point of freeing the individual from his blocks, since religious should have available to him other and better means than therapy to promote growth. Nevertheless therapy can be extremely valuable as a means of putting the individual in touch with his emotional difficulties, as well as the needs and motives which may be controlling his behavior. Therapy can assist the individual in working through these, and, since working through things is surely a prelude to working beyond them, it would seem that therapy can indeed be a useful tool, provided both client and therapist clearly acknowledge its limits. 4Maslow, A. The Farther Reaches of Human Nature. New York: Viking, 1971. Resentment William F. Kraft Dr. Kraft is well known to our readers. His last article, "Nothingness and Spiritual Growth" appeared in the November, 1978 issue. He is professor of psychology at Carlow College; 3333 Fifth Ave.: Pittsburgh, PA 15213. I admit that I'm bitter. I resent the way she treated me. Just to see her irritates me. What really galls me is that she behaves as though nothing ever happened! It's like there's nothing wrong with her--the whole fault is mine. ! resent her for that. Sure, I have to admit that she really did help me. When l first met Sister, I was timid and shy, never really sharing with anyone. She listened, and encouraged m~i to give of myself. I guess i have to thank her for that. But when i really started to open up, and asked her to reciprocate, suddenly she seemed to become distant, not at all friendly as she once was. i asked her a couple of times what was wrong, and all she said was, "Nothing." I guess what I'm saying is that when i was lower and she was higher, things went well. But when we became more equal, our relationship changed. ! resent that. I don't like the way I feel. Even when I just think of her or hear about her, I get these strong feelings, l realize that they aren't doing me any good, but that's the way I feel. l just can't push a button to stop these feelings. I'd like to love. It would make life a lot easier. I'd like to forgive, and not feel the way I do. And I don't like hurting her, besides hurting myself, with this psychological cancer. But how do 1 stop feeling this way? Resentment is an experience that is completely foreign to very few peo-ple. We know that it is an intense, unpleasant feeling that can alienate even close friends, even brothers and sisters. Few, if any people, enjoy feeling resentful. But it happens all too often. We would rather be in love than at odds with one another; But things just don't work out that way. 173 174 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Still, love and resentment need not necessarily be mutually exclusive. Though resentment can be destructive and negative, it can also be positive. For example, I can resent your lying to me. I can resent your attempts at manipulating and scandalizing me. I may validly resent your rank-pulling behavior that violates my dignity. But we seldom think of resentment in terms of its being positive. Along with looking at experiences and theories of resentment, a clue to the meaning of resentment lies in its etymology: "to feel again." One of the peculiar features of resentment is that it is a feeling that we hang on to--or perhaps it hangs onto us. It is as though we are in a state of constant edginess, just waiting to be "triggered off." We also see that resentment is similar to anger and hostility, at least in the form of being aggressive and disapproving. In a sense, resentment points to a "no" that will not go away. Resentment is intense and highly personal. Rather than being oriented toward a peripheral or passing experi-ence, resentment tends to center around important values and especially around our own dignity. Resentment is persistent in that it tends to remain fixed. It is always "there" as a kind of warning. It also involves an indignant stand that protests insults or unjust acts that violate or threaten me. Finally, resent-ment incorporates disapproval--a "no" that proclaims that I will not con-done or sanction such action. Resentment involves an affective judgment that attempts to reclaim, maintain, or proclaim my worth. Thus, resentment refers to holding on to a feeling which serves as a warning to stop indignant treatment. In resentment, I say that I will never tolerate, accept, or condone such behavior. I say: "If you act this way, I'm ready for you." Resentment is a constant readiness to defend, protect, and protest. In light of this description, it is important to make the distinction be-tween the experience or feeling of resentment and what constitutes resent-ful behavior. How 1 behave or act on my resentful feelings is much more within my will than how I feel. The ideal is to listen to feelings of resentment so that I can act in a positive way. Let us first examine resentment in its positive form. Positive Resentment Positive resentment is a protest against a violation of my dignity. When my worth as a person, including who and what 1 hold most sacred, is violated, I have the responsibility and the duty to feel resentment; other-wise, 1 become less, or settle for less, than 1 really am. Not only am I insulted but also 1 insult myself. Furthermore, it is not fair to let others violate my dignity because ! am letting them be less than they are. Thus, my readiness to respond in indignant disapproval is a way of maintaining and promoting my own dignity and evoking the dignity of others. Resentment / 175 For example, people who pull rank on me, try to make me les's than l am, and make themselves more than they really are. My resentment can be in service of the truth that we should be (and ontologically are) brothers and sisters together rather than on different planes or in different worlds. My vigilant'and steadfast "No" to such manipulation can be a form of healthy resentment. I resent being used as a thing because I am infinitely more than that. We should feel resentful for being treated as second-class citizens. So, a woman should deeply resent sexist treatment because she is used and being treated as less than she really is. Being treated unjustly can also evoke resentment. For instance, a sister may feel resentment because she is always the one told to have phone duty or because she feels she is never appreciated. Unfortunately, a sister espe-cially if she is middle-aged may feel guilty over such reactions of resent-ment. Actually, the sister should "listen" to her resentment as a means of maintaining and proclaiming her dignity and as a gift that may motivate her to seek to change the situation. I should feel resentment if ! am used as the community scapegoat, always made fun of, only seen as a workhorse. My resentment clearly says that when you treat me as less than 1 am, you are not going to get away with it. 1 am going to protest, 1 am going to try to change the situation. I am going to manifest myself as more than you see. Healthy resentment, which it can be paradoxically called, is primarily a function of love. It emerges out of and is an expression of love more than of hostility or hate. In positive or healthy resentment, my intention is not to get even, to hurt, or to lower the other. My intention is to manifest and deepen my own dignity and the dignity of the other. In fact to condone behavior that violates my dignity is what would not be healthy. Indeed, 1 can accept and even understand people's acts of aggression, their insulting me, being unjust to me, exploiting or manipulating me. But I neither have to, nor should !, condone their mad behavior. Along with and sometimes beyond these purely psychological ap-proaches, I can also choose to act in a directly spiritual way. In fact, rather than being a matter of "intellectual gymnastics" or mere theological rhetoric, the spiritual resolution of resentment can also be clinically opera-tive. For example, if 1 am a ~:ommunity scapegoat who is manipulated and used unjustly, I should try to determine whether and how I may myself be responsible. I can ask myself, for instance, if ! have an unconscious need to be exploited, or if I have a compulsion to please. But even if I fail to cope healthily with my area of responsibility, or if I am psychologically naive, 1 can still transcend the experience spiritually. Experientially and behaviorally I can identity with Jesus Christ--the Supreme Scapegoat. Such an approach to transcendence need not be a sentimental, saccharine basking in pseudo-spirituality. 1 can actually dif-fuse and dissolve m.y resentment when its grounds are accepted (not wanted masochistically) in Christ. For instance, regardless of, and beyond, 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 psychological analysis, I can foster a "crucified love." In the Spirit of our Lord, I can choose to act on the grace which enables me to suffer for the welfare of those who persecute me. This is not pietistic masochism, suffer-ing for my own sake under the guise of love, but rather it is becoming a disciple of Christ. How realistically possible and frequent such a spiritual approach is for most of us is another issue. But it is possible to strive to practice the message of the Cross that redeems and heals. Negative Resentment Instead of emerging out of and in the service of love, negative resent-ment is fixated, closed, and retaliatory. In negative resentment, I try to hurt, to lower the other. My persistence is fixated rather than cieative. It is destructive rather than self-creative, selfish rather than life-giving, closed rather than open, hindering rather than helping. In negative resentment, 1 simply will not or cannot "let go." You--the resented one--haunt me so much that at times 1 feel that 1 would want you dead so that you can no longer hurt me. At least, I would like to cripple or lower you to the state of being powerless. I want to even the score. Such retaliatory fixation cuts offany future, it identifies you with the past. Rather than being open to new possibilities, 1 tend to identify you with what hurts me. To be sure, I feel indignant: my dignity has been hurt. But instead of responding creatively out of love, l try to make you hurt worse than I. 1 try to get the better of you so that 1 can control and manipulate you. l try to make you become less worthy than I feel. Of course, in trying to pull you down, ! lose my own dignity rather than gain it. My disapproval can too easily turn to hate or hostility. At the very minimum my intention is to make you powerless and me more powerful, and then maybe you will come to me for help. Actually, I am trying to make myself bigger and higher precisely because I feel smaller and lower. In making you helpless, I have the illusion of being higher, more powerful, and more valuable. Clearly negative resentment violates and can even destroy community. It fractures, fragments, and fixates the community. Rather than growing together in love, which can include some positive resentment, we hurt and alienate one another. Still, there is some sense in the apparent nonsense of negative resentment. Let us look at some of the more common reasons for negative resentment. Psychological transference can be a dynamic which produces negative resentment. For instance, I may resent my parents, perhaps for good rea-son, but then I transfer my feelings or displace them onto other authority figures. Though 1 may feel and behave well in most areas, I find myself resentful toward authorities, though I can find no particular reason to feel resentful. I have to realize that my resentment may be rooted primarily in the past rather than in the present. Resentment / 177 Similarly, if 1 am in a position of authority by virtue of my function as a superior, teacher or whatever, I may be confused and hurt with peo-ple who resent me. I sincerely feel that such people may resent me not primarily for what I am doing or even for who I am, but because I evoke past unresolved feelings that are now transferred or "dumped" on me. Of course, I have to discern honestly whether I have my own authority problems that evoke positive resentment that may or may not be com-pounded and blurred with transference. "Divinizing" can easily lead to negative resentment. When I divinize you (a friend, parent, or authority figure), I put you on a pedestal. 1 look up to you and expect you to be perfect. Perhaps you meet my expectation, or at least try to be perfect for me. But when you begin to show your imper-fections, 1 may feel cheated and hurt. Then, instead of divinizing you, I demonize you. Feeling let down, I angrily pull you off your celestial pedestal (of my own making) and perhaps put you in hell. To be freed from such a resentful bind, to be free for a forgiving love, it will help if I can discern why 1 initially had the need to divinize you. Did I humanly but foolishly become too dependent on you for affirmation and support? Why did 1 make you a god when actually you are essentially the same as I? Did I, and do I, sell myself short? Why do 1 need you either in heaven or hell rather than where you really are---on earth? Poor self-esteem and consequent insecurity is a frequent cause of resentment. For whatever reasons (which can be rooted in the first few years of life), I can too easily be insulted, lowered or threatened. Conse-quently I may feel compelled to have a divine love which will never hurt or let me down. Or, from another direction, I put you down in the futile attempt to raise myself; in short, my worth eventually comes from making you feel and look bad, at least in my eyes. In such a situation, I may not only resent what you did but also and perhaps more radically who you are. Your very being threatens me so much that 1 resent you just for being. It is not rare to place too much of one's self-worth in another. If I am too dependent on you, 1 can resent you when you hurt me. And if you deliberately and willfully hurt me, I should resent you. But if you hurt me because of your imperfections or limits, or because of some painful truth, my resentment may be only negative. Then, I can no longer face or trust you. I cannot "let go" and forgive, because my heart is broken. I am afraid I will be "wiped out." I am fearful of losing my dignity and sense of life. Resentment can also emerge out of and be combined with jealousy. In jealousy I feel compelled to minimize the worth of a third person because he or she threatens me; that is, the presence of the other means that I may lose your love and therefore my dignity. Too much of my security depends on our relationship and on your affirmation of me. Or, if our friendship ends, 1 may resent you for years, becoming embittered. Instead of being my friend, you are my enemy. Though losing a friendship usually is painful, too 171~ /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 much of my dignity had been dependent on our friendship. My resentment is a desperate attempt to maintain my dignity, but also a defense against my insecurity and lack of self-affirmation. Resentment can also be a way of controlling you so that the you will not hurt or humiliate me again. My resentment puts you on edge. It keeps you wary and at a distance. Though it is understandable that I do not want to be hurt, my resentful behavior cannot be justified. Ideally, 1 should not try to hurt you because you hurt me. Rather than manipulating you, I should strive to give you the freedom to emerge. Arrogance, too, can be at the root of resentment. When I am arrogant, I blow myself up out of proportion. I claim higher rank, greater dignity or more power than I really have. In arrogance I am likely to feel that 1 know better than others, that I am always right. So when you criticize, disagree, or threaten me, I may resent you as a way of affirming my arrogant self-concept and as a way of lowering and controlling you. When you do not give me homage, I resent you. In effect 1 say: "How dare you act this way to me. Don't you know that 1 am better than you are? I am too good for such treatment, and therefore 1 will make you pay for it." Different life-styles can be a threat to my worth. If I am so insecure that I need other people to affirm my ways of living and consequently cannot be open to their other ways, I can easily feel resentment. When I am insecure about my own way, other ways intimidate me, evoking resentment. For instance, if my life depends on watching or not watching television, people who are bored by television may evoke resentment. Or if my life depends exclusively on certain kinds of prayer, other modalities may evoke resent-ment in me. Ideally, I should be open to many kinds of activities or prayer, though I do not have to agree with, condone, or follow them. In the same way, if people force or embarrass me into doing "their thing," perhaps I should feel justified resentment. For instance, some people may uncon-sciously resent my "old-fashioned" ways and try to make me feel guilty for not following their "modern" methods. Of course, the opposite is also possible. How to I-leip The starting point of helping others is to help oneself. When you mani-fest resentment toward me, first I must try to understand myself. I must discern whether I have anything to do with causing your resentful feelings. For example, did I unconsciously encourage you to put me on a pedestal, or be too dependent on me? Did I think to try to fulfill the role and expec-tation of being perfect? Was I subtlely arrogant in my desire to be helpful? Did I imply that I was '~the way, the truth and the life"? After taking stock of myself, then I can begin to help you take stock of yourself. In feeling your resentment, I should not try to retaliate with bitterness, hostility, or withdrawal. Though withdrawal out of love may sometimes be Resentment / 179 necessary, withdrawal should not be a form of passive hostility, perhaps taking the form of the "ice water treatment." Thus, when feeling the fire of resentment, I should try not to burn in return. Ideally, I should be available in love. I should try to understand and appreciate your reasons for being resentful. When I can make sense of such apparent nonsense, I can help you affirm your true source of dignity. Though important, reasons and words are secondary to seeing and responding to your dignity no matter what you are doing. Rather than being overwhelmed with resentment and returning the hurt, the challenge is to affirm your dignity through your hostility and hate. No matter what, I can always "be for you" in love. The way I might confront you is primarily a function of our relationship. When confronting another, I must be willing and able to take the time, energy, and responsibility for the consequences. It is usually unfair and poor "pop" psychology to express feelings "honestly and sincerely" or to expose another's psychic nerve endings without working through, perhaps for weeks or months, what occurred and will emerge. To confront irrespon-sibly can justly evoke positive resentment. A primary goal is to forgive. Forgiving includes "letting go," allowing ourselves to become more than resentful. Forgiveness also points to a giving that is always there no matter what; I am always there for you regardless of how you or I feel. And, I can and should forgive myself. I cannot always immediately forgive, so that, at times, I may have to forgive my own lack of forgiveness. Forgiveness does not simply mean to forget. Indeed, forgetting may be unjust to both of us. Forgetting our resentment, for example, can decrease opportunities to learn fi'om our obstacles and increase the likelihood of being caught again in the same trap. But, forgiveness does mean not bearing a grudge or identifying you with your faults. My la(k of forgiveness often is a way of controlling and fixating you and myself. Whatever the reason, at base I cannot forgive because forgiveness makes us equally sinners struggling in love. Though I may have been hurt justly or unjustly, it is good to keep perspective and tO experience you as really more than just a hurting person. Even if you are evil, it is highly doubtful that your entire personhood and life are negative. More likely, you stand on the same ground as I do and are much more similar to, than different from, me. To abstain from identifying you with one of your functions or qualities helps to keep perspective and to foster a forgiving and compassionate stand. To be resentful in love is a saving grace. Though seldom can I determine completely the way I feel, I can be vigilant in staying in love. In love, I can embrace all of myself and you. Love heals our wounded and broken lives. Even though we may feel bitter, love allows and encourages us to see more than is apparently there. In love, we get a glimpse of what can be---of the Kingdom already begun on earth. The Stage of the Hidden Spring Carol Jean Vale, S.S.J. Sister Carol teaches English at Delone Catholic High School. She resides at St. Joseph Academy; Main St.; McSherrystown, PA 17344. What makes the desert beautiful is that somewhere it hides a well . ~ We stand today at a crossroad in the passage of time. Vatican II altered the course of the modern Church and, in so doing, changed the direction of all responsible Christian lives. The council demanded that all renew them-selves and, in conjunction with this dictum, many of our general chapters have mandated for us a real participation in renewal; certainly for the dedicated religious no option exists. Refusal to renew is tantamount to a direct refusal to correspond to the will of God. Such a renewal demands a radical conversion to the person of Jesus. It is a call to a unique type of selflessness and self-emptying. The twentieth century is starved for men and women who express by their lives the truth of the message they proclaim. Such a correlation between spoken word and lived reality comes within the realm of possibility only when Christ touches the human heart and turns it completely toward himself. Vatican II has asked us all to undergo such a spiritual revolution. In- .deed, Jesus came to preach a revolution; a revolution not of social values or political ideologies, nor of.scientific values or economic policies. The 1Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1943), p. 75. 180 The State of the Hidden Spring Lord came to effect the most radical revolution possible; to overthrow and free the heart of each person who would ever embark upon the adventure of living.2 To show us a Father's love, to make us new in that love, to recreate us in our real image is the reason for his coming. Difficulties will continue to arise in the pursuit of renewal. Being made fresh involves grinding down the rough edges of personalities, scraping clean the tartared remnants of sin, scooping out our full abundance of selfishness. It means allowing Christ to polish us until we shine as precious stones. "I will lure her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart" (Ho 2:14). That is precisely what Jesus wishes to do to each of us--take us with him to a desert place and there speak a new word known only toour hearts: a word that transforms self-consciousness into other-consciousness, a word that magnifies and evokes all our latent potentialities, a word that enkindles a fire capable of warming another's heart. Interior renewal is difficult because it asks that we journey into this desert with Christ and there face ourselves. This tryst heralds many significant repercussions. Although the Lord leads us as solitaries into the wilderness, he takes us there not for ourselves alone. The desert remains a proving ground, a training camp where we prepare and are prepared for others. Nothing is ever given for the self alone, but rather to be shared so that others might eat, be nourished, be healed, and in turn give to yet others from their new abundance. Our m6st intimate moments alone with the Lord reverberate with worldwide significance. We stand alone before God, but in God we stand together. I am at once by myself and yet a multitude, a solitary yet an assembly, an individual yet a community. I am; we are. We live in relationship, and there exists no exit where we can escape this fact. We are one in Jesus with one another. The desert teaches this fact undeniably. To meet Jesus Christ is to meet our fellow men and women. Success in the apostolate will be in direct proportion to our living out of this desert experience. In the desert, our praye~" life soars to new depths of intimacy with the Lord. A person can be transformed in minutes when touched by someone alive with Jesus. Without him, we can talk for a lifetime, spend human energy, use every gimmick available, and change no one. He alone can give the increase; and he works through us only in the measure to which he first is living within us. The world in which we live thirsts for prayerful men and women. It hungers for a transformation powered by the dynamic of understanding love, reverent gentleness, and uncompromised integrity. It starves for peo-ple who are committed to ideals and values that remain despite the fluctuations of time. Today's world craves persons who possess the power of the Spirit, for only this power turns hearts of stone into those of flesh. zCarlo Carretto, The God Who Comes (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1974), p. 143. 11~2 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Until new growth in the Spirit happens, until more of us grow into living enfleshments of Jesus and bid others do the same, there will be no peace; rather fear and hatred will continue to wreak their havoc on humankind. The religious person must combat the apathy, the hatred, and the cruelty of our times. We are summoned to be countercultural, different, to proclaim the values of the Gospel--values that never have been, are not now, and never will be popular. Christianity means the cross. The Resur-rection and Crucifixion may never be divorced. In America especially, the concept of an "Alleluia People" is being misconstrued to perpetuate a cross-less Christianity. Yet our joy is only as deep as the depth of the pain we have suffered. Suffering prepares the soil of our deepest persons for a harvest of joy. Suffering well-embraced, builds, not breaks the human spirit. Jesus is calling us now to suffer and to die with him. We are being graced as instruments for the redemption of the modern world. Redemption costs bloodbsometimes our own blood. The future demands of us the courage to pay such a price. With these thoughts in mind, then, let us ask why it is that, after more than a decade, religious communities are still struggling internally with the problem of renewal. If we believe in those concepts, what is it that still holds us back from becoming truly renewed? Perhaps the difficulty can be recognized as possessing two very interrelated dimensions. First, there exists the challenge of aiding those religious who seem totally incapable of bridging the gap between past and present. Second, there is the often unrecognized problem of the religious, who though in step with the changed pace of the Church, is still not manifestly credible or visibly authentic in his life's reflection of this change. These two types of persons responding tO the renewal effort generate confusion and uncertainty for all involved. Further-more, the latter, living a seemingly unauthentic response to the call of Vatican II, inadvertently perpetrates a negative response to renewal. This outward lack of credibility on the part of the ostensibly renewed is indeed at the core of the renewal problem today. Multitudes of words have been written concerning the first type of religious; therefore, let us concentrate for a brief space on those religious who have embraced the call of the Vatican Council to renew. Could it be that this renewal has been stalled or slowed because of the way it has been introduced and conducted'? Do those who are fearful of change see in the renewed religious a person of Christ-like depth? This is perhaps the central question that must be asked. If the religious does not first possess a heart converted to warm, compassionate love, to gentle, untiring presence, and to tender, forgiving concern, others will not see in him a model worthy of imitation. From the very beginning of renewal, there has been a firm distinc-tion between renewal and adaptation of life-style. This writer suggests, that while there has been much adaptation, there is still lacking a great deal of visible renewal. Yet this is th~ case through no one's conscious fault. The State of the Hidden Spring / 1 !13 Renewal is a basic conversion experience and lies at the very core of the Christian message. Metanoia comes as a gift from the Lord and cannot be earned or merited. It takes a long time to change a heart, and a longer time for that change to evidence itself in the behavioral patterns of an indi-vidual's day-to-day life. So much of human development and growth occurs in the dark, in the unseeable recesses of the inner heart. The journey from seed to even a small shoot is a long and arduous ascent. Frequently, this maturation process is hidden even from the person engaged in it. Only the gnawing hunger and unquenchable thirst for the ideal hint at the unfolding life within. In our journey on the road c~f renewal, we have come but a brief dis-tance. Often there exists a real gap between what we are saying and believ-ing and proclaiming and how we are living and loving and being. This is not because the renewal is not real, but rather because so much of the growth it has birthed is as yet invisible to the naked eye. The outward changes and adaptations manifest themselves in a visible form readily apparent to the most unperceiving human eye. However, it is much easier to take off a habit, change apostolates, and alter structures than it is to allow one's heart to be made flesh, to put on Jesus Christ, to become an empty vessel of the Spirit's fashioning. The former changes require weeks or months, the latter, years of even the space of a lifetime. Inner change and growth hide in the deepest chambers of the human person and grow ever so slowly to the light, while the outward adaptations flourish in the light and yet, paradoxically, must grow slowly inward to be understood and espoused by a heart-in-process- of-transformation. Adaptation and renewal must converge at some point within the center of the heart and there mingle, coalesce and become lost one in the other. This union between inner belief and outward practice will empower and energize the religious to live out in an ever fuller manner the true message of Jesus as proclaimed by the Second Vatican Council. However, it must be remembered that at this time, this dynamic is still in process of becoming a reality within the hearts of many religious. Perhaps such facts as these will help those fearful of renewal to under-stand why there is so often a disparity between the real and the ideal. Because of this dichotomy, the renewed religious must strive consciously and persistently to overcome such disparities, to be more loving in the face of a frustration that is but a fear of a dreaded unknown. Those who are fighting renewal are basically good, holy men and women. Fear and insecur-ity often cause them to be powerless .before a resistance within them that they cannot stem or control. All that they have known, loved and worked for seems to be in jeopardy of being eradicated permanently and without an understandable cause. Often they feel crushed or useless, weighed down by a burden too heavy for them to lift alone. Such anxiety can be assuaged only where there is selfless, warm, compassionate, sacrificial love. Those who are freer to be less fearful must also be freer to die in all those 11~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 ways that are not vital to the renewal. This dying includes taking the time to listen to the fears and anxieties of others without trying to force new ideas upon them before they have been allowed to know that they have been understood where they are. It is incredible how a listener changes when he finally begins to understand exactly how another feels and why he feels that way. Such a listener becomes more reverent and accepting of the pain and fear that choke someone into inaction or even active resistance. This dying means being willing to taste the pain of another's heart and to truly let that experience sink into and permeate one's entire being. It means compromising whenever and wherever possible no matter what the cost to self. It means going the extra milel giving away also the tunic, and turning the other cheek. It means loving with the whole of one's self---open, exposed, vulnerable, and weak. It means being so renewed that others will yearn to share the vision that draws such a religious on to ever greater heights of faith-lived love. Those who harbor a fear of the present and a dread of the future can be put at ease only by a person very much at home with his own weaknesses and failings, a person who is willing to share his own fears and dreads, a person who is not threatened by a truth different from his own. At the present many of those who are fearful of renewal are unable to reach out even halfway to the renewal effort. Therefore, the demand is often doubly difficult because time and time again, the renewed religious must be willing to go the whole distance. Yet, if we are willing to do this, we will gradually find that the miles are fewer and those with whom we are meeting, more willing to communicate. Perhaps the demand of renewal at present is to listen with a loving heart, say little, but be by one's presence a witness of all that is best in renewal. Those who question renewal must remember what was mentioned earlier--that growth is slow and that it takes many years for it to evidence itself. Renewal is yet young, and so there is often little outward manifesta-tion of transformation. This does not mean that growth is not there, but just that there has not been enough time for it to become visible. Patience becomes a demand on everyone's part. It must also be remembered that it is imperative to the future of religious life and to the future of our world that we accept.fully the challenge of the Council. If we do not, the twenty-first century will form itself without our aid. The result will.be destruction, if not physical,-then moral. Structures cannot be changed unless the hearts of those who build the structures are reformed and created new in Christ Jesus. These hearts will be touched only if we first let the Lord Jesus remold us into his image and likeness. Before we can affect anyone we must first renew ourselves. In community, we have one another as a source of strength and support for this renewal. Together we may begin to build new selves transformed in Christ. The very painful act of this growth to authenticity will be redemptive. To offer our The State of the Hidden Spring pain for the world is itselfa beginning of our participation in the redemption that our earth awaits. Our pain constitutes a saving difference. We are called to proclaim in our flesh the mystery of Jesus. We are summoned to give witness by our lives that true joy abounds when a person lives in relationship to the Lord. We are called to enable others to change, to be "Christ-ed." To baptize our earth in Jesus we must relinquish ourselves in "self" death. If we do not recognize this, if we do not allow Jesus to change us, then religious life itself will die; and with our death, who can even guess what other values will perish forever? For those fearful of all that this renewal asks because it seems to demand a break with the past, it is important to recall a few thoughts. The past is a part of us. We have imbibed, assimilated and integrated it into the reality of who we are. Our lives reflect the truth and vitality of all that has been as our present witness gives life to that reality in an ever-deepening dimension of being. Future seeds of life are at this moment being planted in us. Our past gives life to our present while our present nurtures all possibilities for the future. Indeed, the good of the past lives on in the present and creates the pattern for the future. All that we are and have been will continue to develop and mature into an ever fuller expression of the Person who we are as Church. Who we are will not change, but perhaps how we express who we are will be different. To stand at this crossroad--to live in a time of transition is both a curse and a blessing. It is a curse because of the tension and turmoil so innate to all change; yet a blessing because we are faced with the challenge of helping to make all things new in Christ. It is a blessing because the future rests in our hands and we are asked to shape it, mold it, form it into the reality that will meet the measure of tomorrow's need. At the moment, we move at a point of invisible growth. With regard to renewal we still must journey in the dryness of the desert, in the darkness of the night. A time of pain it is undeniably, but we have cause for a deep, resilient hope and a new, vibrant faith, for the path we tread is but "the stage of the hidden spring." One day the hidden water will gush freely and, at another moment in time, our thirst will be quenched with the vision of the beauty of the Church transformed. I will open up rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the broad valleys: I will turn the desert into a marshland, and the dry ground into springs of water. 1 will plant in the desert the cedar, acacia, myrtle, and olive; I will set in the wasteland the cypress, together with the plane tree and the pine, That all may see and know, observe and understand. That the hand of the Lord has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it (Is 41:18-20). The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows Vincent J. Genovesi, S.J. Father Genovesi is an Associate Professor of Theology at St. Joseph's University. He resides at St. Alphonsus House; 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Peace I bequeath to you, my own peace I give you, a peace the world cannot give, this is my gift to you (Jn 14:27). These words from Christ's farewell to us are unquestionably encouraging, but they are not the whole story. What is left unsaid but is necessarily implied here is this: "Peace is my challenge to you." I say this because peace, like any gift, must be received in order really to be a gift. To receive the peace of Christ, then, we are challenged to open ourselves to his life, we must struggle to be conformed to him, which means we must let Christ and his spirit take form within us. As Christians we have long known that salvation is not simply a matter of external obedience or of frenetic good works. No, salvation is a matter of life in and through Jesus Christ who frees us from the law, from sin and from everlasting death. Coming to life in Christ is, of course, more a welcoming of him and what he stands for into our lives and allowing the consequences to overflow into our actions, however surprising and costly this may prove to be. This is St. Paul's meaning in insisting that salvation lies in the "faith that expresses itself in love" (Ga 5:6). All the hope there is in Christians focuses here: that those who answer the Father's love with love will be raised up even as Christ has been, and they will be gifted with unending joy. If faith-inspired love, a personal, affirmative response to the 186 The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 1117 Father's invitation to enter into his life, is the dynamic of Christian living, so also is it the impetus behind life in religion, and so also is it the wellspring of Christ's living and acting among us. What I suggest in this essay is that if religious wish to live the virtues of the vows we must be people first of living faith, for such was Christ. It was his total commitment to the Father, his unique life of faith, which freed Christ to such preeminent love that it serves always and everywhere as the ideal and inspiration for Christian life. More specifically, Christ's faith allowed and persuaded him to give a particular shape to his love for the Father and to his involvement in the Father's work. In other words, Christ's faith overflowed into a love that took on the contours of voluntary poverty, celibacy and radical obedience. What do these contours reveal of the inner life of Christ, and to what do they challenge those in religion? Poverty As we attend to the issue of poverty a basic truth must be initially affirmed: much of the world's poverty is slavery, the result of external oppression, an unconscionable demand made by some of God's children upon their own brothers and sisters. This kind of poverty is a human contrivance, a stubborn trace of a resilient inhumanity in the face of our Father's unalterable generosity. -We are focusing on another kind of poverty, however--one which is a matter of godly conviction and choice. This is the poverty of God himself in Christ who was born poor and who made himself poor for the sake of his Father's kingdom. It is also the poverty of those who wish to be poor in Christ, and the poverty of men and women who voluntarily accede to Christ'.s admonition: "If you wish to be perfect, go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me" (Mt 19:21). What is the meaning of this kind of poverty that Christ himself assumes so that he does not hesitate to link the desire for perfection with the abandonment of earthly riches? Why is the choice of poverty met with the assurance of an eternal treasure?1 For some people there is no need to question what voluntary poverty means, nor is it necessary to know why Christ commits himself to such a life. The important truths are only that Christ freely lived poorly and that he invites others to do likewise. This mentality finds virtue in the imitation of Christ and his style of life without attending sufficiently, in my opinion, to the charge we have inherited: that we are to put on the mind and heart of Jesus Christ. While there is no propriety in criticizing the desire to be '~poor with Christ poor," I do believe that such grace-inspired ambition, left unexplored, allows much of the richness of chosen poverty, both in ~These reflections on poverty are a slightly revised and expanded version of my earlier article, "Christian Poverty: Sign of Faith and Redemptive Force," The Way, Supplement 32, (Autumn, 1977), pp. 78-82. "11~1~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 Christ and in his followers, to remain unappreciated, and much of this poverty's challenge to stand unmet. What, then, might be the meaning of the poverty into which Christ freely entered? Let it be said at once that Christ's entrance into poverty is central to his message and crucial to his mission; Christ's poverty is of the very fabric of his being. Although divine, yet he "did not cling to his equality with God but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave, and became as men are" (Ph 2:6-7). Just as, in his incarnation, Christ truly divests himself of divine prerogatives, so, in his commitment to poverty, does he enter into a condition of worldly dispossession. In Christ, poverty is a continuation of the process of self-emptying and self-forgetfulness which began in his agreement to enflesh the word of his Father's promise to Israel. In entering into humanity among the poor of the earth, Christ prefigures and verifies a decision never to grasp after the things of the world. By embracing the poverty of Mary and Joseph, Christ gives flesh and human life to his faith in his heavenly Father, a faith which is so profound and so compelling that he comes to resist the temptation to establish and confirm his identity in anything but his Father's love. Having surrendered the privileges of divin-ity, Christ seeks no substitutes in the paraphernalia of wealth, power or social status. In his Father's love, Christ finds not only his strength to work, but also his freedom to forego the satisfaction of accumulating the products made available as a result of his labor. Christ's poverty, then, incarnates his personal openness to his Father's love and his trusting acceptance of his Father's plan of salvation. In choos-ing poverty, Christ in effect grounds and locates himself in the life of his Father, learning his love so that he can live and share it with others. Beyond this, Christ's entrance into poverty illuminates the inner disposition which must characterize all those who wish to be joined to the Father. Christ, freely poor, is the living sign to us of that faith which is necessary for salvation. He comes in poverty out of love so that we might know that salvation, precisely as the expression of the Father's love, is, like love, a gift that can never be earned but only earnestly desired, patiently sought and, in the end, gratefully received in handing self over to the Father in love and trust. Christ's decision for poverty is meant to deal the deathblow against the illusion that salvation is the reward of our labors, duly won; if self-righteousness reflects a deluded state of mind, no less does the attempt at self-sufficiency betray one's ignorance of life in the Father's love. The poverty of Christ is an inspir.ing challenge, for in anticipating a Messiah we would more likely have in mind a person of noble lineage or power, not a child so much, and certainly not a child of poor and unknown beginnings. Thus Christ's poverty tests us and encourages our response to a divine Father who uses his powerful love to surprise and confuse us, and to draw us to reliance more upon him than upon ourselves. The poor Christ calls us The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 189 to recast radically our thoughts and ways, for these are not the Father's. False gods and self-reliance are equally ineffectual for salvation. Only the Father's prodigal love which we accept and cherish in living faith finally explains our entrance into the joy of his kingdom. And so, around Christ's poverty and the attitude it embodies is centered much of the new and startling truth of Christianity. For this poverty seems to be connected to the introduction of a new law (of love), a new salvation (by grace through faith), and a new kingdom (offered as a gift to be freely and actively received). Just as the poor of the earth are essentially power-less in the economic order, so are all people without effective power in the order of salvation. Had Christ come in riches we might find this truth even harder to accept than we presently do. As it is, Christ's free acceptance of poverty proclaims that there is everlasting life in opening ourselves up completely to the rich hopes and love of the Father for us. The poverty of Christ shouts out salvation not through economic security, not through political processes, not through military might, but only through the kind of creative, serving and healing love which gives body to our faith in the Father of us all who has so generously blessed us. Only when poverty expresses concretely our acceptance of the Father's presence, power and saving action is it truly a value to be lived, for only then does it keep alive the virtue of poverty which the incarnate Christ lived and valued. So far we have looked at Christ's poverty as a chosen style of life illuminating an interior disposition of that faith which is essential for human salvation. But there is also a prophetic dimension to Jesus' poverty, by means of which his life proves provocative to poor and rich alike. In addition, then, to telling us something of the kind of personal relationship Jesus enjoyed with his Father, his poverty is meant to be a redemptive force for the lives of others. Christ's poverty must be viewed within the context of his life-mission; he walked the earth as servant of all people in need of the gospel of redemption; his desire is that everyone--poor and rich--will hear his good news, do p.enance and believe. I would suggest, therefore, that in the lives of those who choose today to be poor for the sake of the kingdom, poverty ideally expresses not only their own open abandonment to the Father's love, but also their earnest desire to extend the redemptive concern of Christ for all people. These people choose poverty for the sake of the poor and of the rich. They assist the poor in a practical way by using their talents on behalf of the poor, or by surrendering their wealth to them, or employing ~t for their benefit. The poor are served in still another way, however, on the level of the spirit, for those who undertake to live Christian lives of poverty signify their faith in the Father and his kingdom. Because they know that this world and its standards are not ultimate and will not prevail, those who are religiously mQtivated to live poorly die to the world's way of measuring success; in this way their lives are transformed into shouts of exhortation to the poor not 190 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 to be blinded into seeing and desiring nothing beyond the satisfaction of material needs. But the gospel is not for the poor alone. The rich also need its life-offering. Thus for the rich, no less than for the poor, the lives of those who choose poverty must carry redemptive significance, and they can in two ways: first, by the example of a simple life-style and by an informed exposition of the Christian principles of social justice, those who are poor in Christ poor may encourage the advantaged of the earth to human respon-sibility; secondly, those who enter into Christian poverty may humbly serve as signs of admonition to those who are well-off-~whether they be consciously oppressive, mindlessly ravenous, or simply incautious in their material accumulations and expenditures--that their lives must be tem-pered by God's perspectives lest they be charged with unjust stewardship and their laughter turn to tears because they will know only the happiness which they wrench from this earth, but not the happiness which is our Father's gift. Anyone who wants to enter into poverty with the spirit of Christ must know that the Father's desire is for universal salvation. The only important thing is that the conditions of possibility be provided by means of which all people--poor and rich--may be freed and encouraged to enter into the good life of God. All people need to be reminded that the deepest value of material welfare lies in its being a prelude to the welfare of the human spirit. Choosing poverty with Christ poor must involve, therefore, a concern not only for the material and spiritual welfare of the poor but also, and equally, for the spiritual welfare of the rich. There is always a danger that those who wish to be poor in Christ will become myopic and unchristian, that they will grow preoccupied with enhancing the material welfare of the poor, wresting wealth and power from their possessors, forcing indeed the hands of the rich, but all the while leaving their hearts untouched, unnoticed and even uncared for. The well-off, in short, might very well face the prospect of being left ill-disposed for receiving the Father's life. This, of course, is a most unsatisfactory situation, and one in which nO follower of Christ can be joyful. Although the point hardly needs emphasizing, let it be said simply that working for the material enrichment of the poor is not the sole or ultimate expression of the spirit of Christian poverty. Unarguably, any profession of love for the poor would be ungodly, senseless and deceitful were it to omit any effort to win release for the poor from the economic, political and social chains that keep them imprisoned both in body and in spirit. At the same time, however, it would misrepresent Christianity to suggest that, inqtself, liberating others from depriva.tion or oppression, with all their destructive implications for human living, either fully reveals or finally exhausts the riches promised by the Father. Christian love demands that the poor come to ~realize that their economic and human liberation is ultimately significant only in terms of that interior freedom by means of which they may be The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 191 fulfilled as their Father's children, gratefully receiving his love and heartful-ly returning it. When people choose poverty for the sake of the Father's kingdom, they choose it for the sake of the poor and of the rich--for all who need love's redemption. Being poor in and with Christ involves indeed a labor to relieve the burden of the poor, but it also essentially involves a commitment to communicate to all people a knowledge of, and a yearning for, the best and the most that our Father offers--his life and his love. If Christians must not betray the poor, neither must they abandon the rich; if the rich do not take the gospel to heart, we must wonder why and we must also increase our efforts and our pleadings that their hearts may be opened to the Father. If this occurs, not only will there be rejoicing in heaven but also on earth, for no one receives the Father except through the Spirit of the Son in whom all are brothers and sisters. Thus I suggest that the poor cannot help but be materially benefited by the entrance of the rich into the spirit of the gospel, because if any return is made to the Father it is made necessarily to those whose fullest dignity lies in being sons and daughters of our Father who gave the riches of the earth and wants them to be shared by all. If the gospel moves the rich to lose their hearts to the Father, it must also move their hands to refashion the earth, and to make room for the poor where they may come more easily to know the Father's goodness and more freely to taste his sweetness. - Our reflections suggest, then, that Christ's poverty illuminates his inner being; it speaks of his knowledge of his Father's goodness and it reveals the loving faith which frees him to seek first the Father's kingdom. But Christ's poverty is also a call to all people to enter into that spirit which allows them to acknowledge the Father as Father and to enjoy forever the best and the most that he offers. Today, people who profess voluntary poverty do so as a way of embodying an appreciation of the richness which is theirs by virtue of their calling as sons and daughters of God. These people struggle to translate the mind and heart of Christ into their actions so that they may live more fully as he did, forgetful of self, careful of all others, searching out especially those who are lost and hurt, striving to secure their rights and to ease their affliction. But the poor with Christ also have a hope: that their poverty will invite, challenge and free both the poor and the rich to join them in the cry of praise and love, "Abba, Father." Celibacy Having viewed Christ's poverty as a virtue which both gives us a glance into his spiritual life and illuminates the challenge facing those who desire to be poor even as he was, we may attend more briefly to Christ's celibacy and obedience. The issue of celibacy serves to focus a certain evolution which has occurred in the everyday perspectives of Christian living. One observer has expressed the change this way: in times gone by, religious 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 assured the laity that even though they married they could attain true sanctity and first-class citizenship within the Christian community; now, however, the laity seek to assure religious that even though they are unmar-ried they can achieve true personhood and first-class citizenship as human beings." If we in religion do in fact need this kind of reassurance it is an indication, at the very least, that we have fallen forgetful of the full human stature attained by Jesus Christ. He became a man and grew in wisdom, age and grace before God and men. And one of the ways in which this growth occurred was through his chosen life of celibacy. What, then, can be said of celibacy in Christ's life? First of all, Christ's celibacy, like his. poverty, is an outgrowth and expression of his profound relationship with his Father. It is, I suggest, by reason of his growing perception of himself as one inimitably loved by the Father and as one called to a singular loving response that Jesus makes the decision to remain celibate. Not only is he completely trusting in, and grateful for, his identity as only-begotten Son of his Father, but he is also keenly aware of his role as but the firstborn of a new nation, the head of a new creation. Both from his confidence in his presence to his Father as beloved Son and from his sense of responsibility to be at all times, in all places, and in every way available for the Father's work, Christ is impelled to forego the joys and obligations that invariably constitute the exclusive and permanent covenant of married love. His decision for celibacy is a decision for a complete commitment to the establishment and building up of the people of God who are being summoned to a new relationship with their Father in heaven. But there is, I think, something more implied in Christ's celibacy. It is the clarion cry that salvation is not a matter of being born "according to the flesh in any human family"; rather we must be reborn as children of the Father through the Spirit who has come from on high. Celibacy, then, appears as a challenge against any and every tendency to absolutize the values of human sexuality, familial ties, or national heritage? There are, then, these notes to Christ's celibacy: he makes himself utterly available for the far-ranging service of God and his people, he proclaims the universality of God's Fatherhood and he reminds all men and women that they are known and valued ultimately and most importantly by their being images of the Father who loves them and invites them to live forever. But, at root, Christ's celibacy speaks to us of the full and single-hearted love-relation-ship he enjoys with his Father. As we consider our calling to celibate love we must do so from within the context of realizing the magnificent vocation which is shared by everyone. God has issued a universal call to perfection; all people are to be as perfect and as compassionate as our Father in heaven. Given the bound-aries of human nature, however, each one of us can incarnate only certain facets of the infinite reality of God and of his love for humanity. For this 2Kilian McDonnell, "Religious Life in Low-Profile," America, (July l l, 1970), p. 16. nThomas E. Clarke, S.J., "Celibacy: Challenge to Tribalism," America, (April 19, 1969), p. 465. The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows / 193 reason, some people are called to witness to God and his love in the joy and tenderness of conjugal love and in the abandonment of self to meeting the immediate and constant needs of the precious people to whom they make a special response and for whom they bear a special responsibility. Other people are invited to testify to the expansiveness of the Father's love through their commitment of celibate love in which no a priori limitations or boundaries are drawn on their loving care for others. Regarding the invitation to perfection, however, one thing at least is certain: whether the call is to conjugal love or to celibate love, the noblest and best vocation for anyone is the one to which that individual is personally invited and directed by the Father. If Christ's celibacy is an expression of his deepest identity in and with his Father, so also must our celibacy express our identity in the Father through Christ if it is to be truly for and of the kingdom of God. And indeed our grounding in the Father is through the heart and Spirit of Christ in whom we come to appreciate, with confidence and joy, our singular presence to the Father. It is in and through our union with Christ that we are renewed in the fulfillment of our basic calling from the Father: that by virtue of our distinctive imaging of him each of us is invited and empowered to love him as he has never been loved before. Clearly, then, the celibacy which reflects the celibacy of Christ for the kingdom of God is a charism, a gift calling for our reception and response to God's initiative of love. It cannot be under-stood simply as a reality which we initiate; rather it is a grace-inspired expression of our desire to live single-heartedly for the Father and his people, even as Christ did and because he did. Celibacy, finally, proclaims our faith and hope in the powerful care which the Father shows us in his Son Jesus Christ to whom alone we look for the deepest and fullest giving and receiving of love, and who alone inspires us along the way of our return to the Father. Theological reflection reveals three levels of significance for Christian celibacy; they are the Christological meaning, the ecclesial and the eschato-logical. In terms of Christology, celibates for the kingdom of God find in this response of love a specific way of letting the spirit and action of Christ take form within them so that their mindg and hearts may be more fully respon-sive to the love of Christ and to his values and interests. In the context of ecclesiology, celibacy expres.ses the desire and willingness to retain sufficient flexibility so as to serve the Father wherever the needs of his people are greatest. Finally, in eschatological terms, the love of a celibate gives witness today to a quality of life which is properly characteristic of the final stage of God's kingdom, that end-time when there will be no marriage and when God ~vill be all in all, everything to everyone.4 Thus celibacy is a way of living and doing the future now. Celibates try to live as though the 4These ideas were developed by Pope Paul V1 in his encyclical letter, Sacerdotalis Coelibatus, June 23, 1967. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 future of God were already fully present, but they also try to live in such a way so as to make that future present. Their hope is in fact to be of help in the building of God's future. In their loving, celibates find a way of saying that they hunger for our God and their hearts are restless until they rest in him. What celibates desire is that, through their loving, the reality of Christ may be further personalized in the lives of others who will be reminded that the holy joys of physical human love are only a glimmer of the delightful and filling love which awaits us in the house of our Father. Sometimes, of course, these desires are not realized. The testimony of celibacy is not heard. When this happens, we as celibates must look within for it is quite possible that the problem is our own. Chances are that our loving may have become more a matter of words than of deeds. It may be that we have become cold and unfeeling, withdrawn and unspirited; or it may be that we are attempting to love too much on our own terms or in keeping with our own timetable. If this is the case, then we have reneged on our commitment to celibacy and on our calling to Christianity, for at the core Of celibacy, as at the core of love, are the Christian ideals of other-centeredness and self-forgetfulness. If we take leave of these qualities, we surely take leave of the spirit of Christ ,and we depart from redemptive celibacy, for the deepest value of Christian celibacy is the specific form it gives to our love of God and his people. Out of love we are made for love, for self-giving for the sake of others. As Christ's celibacy testifies to his faith in the sustaining and enriching power of his Father's love for him and to his desire to be ever about his Father's business, so is.the life of Christian celibacy today a faith-event, a sign of our confidence and expectation that the love of God-in-Christ for us is bringing us to full life; out of the joy and strength of our "being loved" we are enabled to face the risks of living with others the good news of our Father who calls everyone to the fulness of life through love. Obedience If Christ's faith in his Father takes on the shape of voluntary poverty and celibacy, no less does it express itself in his radical obedience. Jesus' awareness of being on a mission, of being one sent by the Father, is pro-found. His profession of allegiance to the will and work of his Father runs like a refrain through his life and teaching. St. John's Gospel resounds with the protestations and reminders of Christ: ¯. what 1 was to say, what I had to speak, was commanded by the Father who sent me . . . (12:49). Yes, I have come from him; not that I came because I chose, no, Iwas sent, and by him (8:42). ¯. I have come from heaven, not to do my own will, but to do the will of the one who sent me (6:38). ¯ . . my aim is to do not my own will, but the will of the one who sent me (5:30). The Faith of Christ: Source of the Virtues of the Vows My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work (4:38). As long as the day lasts I must carry out the work of the one who sent me (9:4). As these words of Jesus make clear, the purposefulness of his life is explained by his adherence to the Father's will; it is from his Father that his life derives strength and takes on direction; here, too, in the Father's will Jesus finds joy and peace for he knows that whatever the Father asks, he asks only and always out of his great love for him. In the core of his being Christ listens to the word of his Father; he hears and he obeys; his mind and heart and will are shaped in and by the Father so that in the life and action of Christ the Father's Word becomes flesh. It is not without reason, then, that Jesus reminds us: "To have seen me is to have seen the Father . You must believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (Jn 14:9-11). Living in accordance with the Father's will is not, of course, without its difficulties, even for Jesus, as his temptations at the beginning of his public life reveal. For here Jesus is confronted with perhaps his greatest challenge: to be other than his Father wishes him to be, to let his messiahship be cast more according to the pleas and pleadings of Israel than according to the plans of his Father. The temptation for Christ is real and strong to follow the course of political expediency, to exercise power and might, to bedazzle with miracle and mystery and thus to win a following of people whose ambitions and fantasies are stirred, but whose hearts are still untouched by love and whose minds still do not know the secret and wonderful life to which the Father invites them. But this path Christ rejects; instead, he chooses the way of the Father: to reach out to others through the openness and vulnerability of love, to live and work for others rather than to grand-stand, to suffer and die so that others may know that, by the promise and gift of the Father and through his power, pain ends in happiness and death ends in life. It is hard, I think, to stress too much the significance for Christ himself of his faithful obedience to the Father. Having overcome the temptation to play up to men rather than to trust in the Father's knowledge, power and love, and being wise to the snares of Satan, Christ wishes to leave no doubt either about his own perception of himself or about the expectation upon those who would seek to join him. What explains his own life and what must characterize the lives of those who would be one with him is simply obedi-ence to the Father. For a relationship with Christ, obedience binds rather than blood: "Anyone who does the will of my Father in heaven, he is my brother and sister and mother" (MT 12:50). That Jesus yields to the authority of another does not go unnoticed. It is a truth acknowledged at times by the most unlikely people. For example, when the centurion with the ill servant sends a message that he is not worthy to have Christ enter under his roof and suggests that Christ need only utter the word of healing from afar, he makes a strange admission. The "196 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 soldier of Rome proclaims: "For I am under authority myself, and have soldiers under me" (Lk 7:8). The implication is clear; the centurion sees Christ as being in a situation not unlike his own: as being under authority and as having authority over others. Even as he is commissioned, so he sees Christ as commissioned, as deriving authority from another. The centurion, it seems, has walked--silently, but nonetheless really--into the heart of faith. He recognizes that in Jesus the power of God is being expressed. He seems to know without saying it that Jesus is the Anointed One, the Christ, the one who is totally shaped to the Father so as to be his work of love. In the face of such faith Jesus is astonished and he could well say of this man what he said to Peter: "You are a happy man, because it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven" (Mt 16:17). For those who desire to be obedient in and with Christ it is not enough to know and appreciate that his faithful surrender brought him to death, even death on a cross. What we must also learn to cherish is the truth that obedience shaped his being and life. Christ's actions are the work of the Father because Christ thinks with the Father and wills with the father. In putting on the mind and heart of the Father Christ's only concern and his full joy are to do the Father's work. Being fully obedient in and with Christ is a challenge, then, to respond to our Father's love by offering him the service not only of our hands, but also of our hearts, minds and wills. Obedience to the Father is redemptive only because it expresses, reveals and encourages among others an acceptance of the truth that the father so loves us that he wants only what is for our good. Because of his love for us and because of his desire to render this love effective in our lives, the Father asks that we attend to him, even as Christ did, so that with Christ we may be lifted up. Conclusion The authenticity and vitality of our vowed lives express both the reality and presence of God to us and our trusting and grateful effort to direct our lives ever more clearly and singly toward rendering him a return of love. There is a way, moreover, for us to dispose ourselves for such a response. Jesus himself offers the advice: "If you make my word your home you will indeed be my disciples, you will learn the truth and the truth shall make you free" (Jn 8:31-2). To his word, as to our home, we must come for rest, for relaxation, and for re-creation. In his word, as in a home, we will find support, we will be nourished, accepted and encouraged to grow; we will, in short, be loved into fuller life. In his word we are valued for who we are and not for what we accomplish; in his word we come to understand our beginnings. There we dream, and thence we derive our hopes for the future. Making God's word our home, living, moving and having our being there, frees us to the surrender of faith in which we live out our vows as our pledge that we will allow our Father the freedom to keep us as free as possible for him, for his gospel and for his people. Wilderness and Marketplace Prayer and Action in Mark's Gospel Marian Madore, F.C.J. Sister Marian conducts adult-education classes in Scripture and prayer while she continues her studies. She resides at Mr. St. Joseph Convent; Ferry Rd.; Bristol, RI 02809. The Gospel of Mark moves at a breathless pace, its sentences frequently beginning with the Greek equivalent of words such as "immediately" and "straightway." Its action-packed narrative conveys the urgency of the mission of Jesus. Ft. Gerard S. Sloyan comments: lfthe Master relaxes, one does not learn it from Mark. To read this gospel at a single sitting is to feel hemmed in by crowds, wearied by their demands, besieged by the attacks of demons? We could, perhaps, take exception to the statement: "If the Master relaxes, one does not learn it from Mark." There are unobtrusive state-ments here and there in the gospel that seem to indicate a kind of cycle.in the days of Jesus' public ministry: a constant seeking after solitude only to be interrupted once more by the demands of the crowds; sometimes a sacrificing of quiet time to attend to their needs, only to be followed by another period of solitary prayer. As he moves back and forth from the wilderness to the market-place, Jesus shows us how to harmonize prayer and action in our living of the Christian life. It is significant that Mark's gospel begins in the wilderness. John the Baptist is presented in terms of Isaiah 40:3 which in the prophet's time ~Gerard S. Sloyan, The Gospel of Saint Mark, "New Testament Reading Guide" #2 (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1960) p. 7. Used with permisssion from the publisher. 197 Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 announced a new Exodus, the return of the Israelites from Babylon. Now, John is proclaiming the ultimate deliverance through the Messiah: "A voice cries in the wilderness: Prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight" (Mk 1:3).z Mark adds: "And so it was that John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins" (1:4). It is helpful to keep in mind the Old Testament significance of "the wilderness." The desert experience of the Exodus was a time of testing, the great test being: Can we continue to trust that the Lord will guide us to the promised land? Later prophets such as Hosea and Jeremiah tended to look back on the sojourn in the desert with rose-colored glasses and to see it as a time of first fervor: "Yahweh says this: I remember the affection of your youth, the love of your bridal days; you followed me through the wilderness, through a land unsown" (Jr 2:2). A return to the desert orto first fervor was longed for by many of the prophets: "I am going to lure her and lead her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart" (Ho 2:14). Hence, the desert came to be symbolic of both temptation and change of heart, the gateway to new beginnings. In Mark's gospel, we find the wilderness presented as a battle-ground, and also as a place of refreshment and renewal. Mark, with his usual tendency to "get down to business," tells the story of Jesus' baptism very briefly, stressing the most important aspect of this event, the combined witness of the Father and the Spirit to Jestis, the Belo.ve~l Son. Then, he continues: "Immediately afterwards the Spirit drove him out into the wilderness and he remained there for forty days, and was tempted by Satan. He was with the wild beasts and the angels looked after him (Mk 1:12-13). Mark's language is particularly expressive; he says that "the Spirit drove him out into the wilderness." Matthew and Luke say that Jesus was "led by the Spirit" into the wilderness (Mt 4:1 ; Lk 4:1). Are we to understand here some human repugnance on the part of Jesus in facing this ordeal? William Barclay suggests that Matthew and Luke delib-erately softened the expression here.3 If we supplement Mark's brief sketch with the longer versions of Matthew and Luke, we shall find that for Jesus the desert experience was a time of testing, when in prayer and fasting, he resisted the temptation to conduct his ministry in a manner which would substitute worldly expediency and acclaim for his Father's will. "Forty days" is a Hebraism for "a long time" and suggests the similar ordeals undergone by Moses (Ex 34:28) and Elijah (I K 19:8). But the desert is not only a battleground. Paradoxically, it can also be a place of refreshment, light, and peace. Mark indicates that Jesus frequent-ly sought out lonely places for prayer and rest from the crowds. Very early in his gospel, Mark presents us with what Jim Bishop would call "A Day ~AII quotations from the Bible are taken from The Jerusalem Bible (Garden City: Doubleday, 1966). Used with permission from the publisher. 3See William Barclay, The Gospel of Mark, "The Daily Study Bible Series" (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1956), p. xix. Wilderness and Marketplace: Prayer and Action hl Mark / 199 in the Life of Jesus of Nazareth" (see Mk 1:21-34).4 It is a day of teaching and healing, packed with activity. Immediately after the account of this specimen day, we read: In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went offto a lonely place and prayed there. Simon and his companions set out in search of him, and when they found him they said: 'Everybody is looking for you." He answered, 'Let us go elsewhere, to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came' (Mk 1:35-39). We know that chronological order is not always important in the gos-pels, but this passage seems to be a notable exception. D. E. Nineham sees it as placed very deliberately after the specimen day and providing a significant commentary on it.5 The enthusiasm of the crowds on the preced-ing day was born of admiration for a wonder-worker--not the kind of reception that Jesus was really looking for. It could be that this was a time Of stress for Jesus when he needed to be alone with his Father and to reassess his ministry. Instead of leaving him in peace, Peter and the others "tracked him down" (Mark uses a Greek word which suggests a hostile pursuit) and here, the evangelist very pointedly omits calling them "disci-ples" since they are not really acting like disciples but are caught up in the excitement of Jesus' worldly success?~ They think they are the bearers of good news--"Everybody is looking for you." Jesus, seeing through the motives of "everybody," announces his intention to "go elsewhere," add-ing "so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came" (1:38). In other words, he did not come to bask in the adulation of the crowds at Capernaum. By the end of the first chapter of Mark's gospel, the wilderness theme is very much in evidence. After the leper fails to keep the "messianic secret" and talks freely about his cure, the result is that "Jesus could no longer go openly into any town, but had to stay outside in places where nobody lived. Even so, people from all around would come to him" (1:45). It is interesting to note that within the brief compass of Mark's first chapter, Jesus is shown making three excursions into the wilderness! The same Greek word--the equivalent of "desert"--is used in each case. There are instances in Mark's gospel where nothing short of an escape from the crowds is suggested. For instance, we read: "With the coming of evening that same day, he said to them, 'Let us cross over to the other side' And, leaving the crowd behind, they took him,just as he was, in the boat" (Mk 4:35-36). Here, we do not find the usual "dismissal" of the crowd (see Mk 6:45-46). The degree of Jesus's exhaustion is graphically highlighted by vivid descriptive details: "Then it began to blow a gale and the waves were breaking into the boat so that it was almost swamped. But he was in the 4See D. E. Nineham, Saint Mark, "'The Pelican New Testament Commentaries" (Baltimore: Penguin Books, lnc., 1963), pp. 73ff. 5See op. cir., p. 83. 6Cf. Nineham, op. cit., p. 84. 200 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 stern, his head on the cushion, asleep" (4:37-38). When the apostles return from a missionary journey, Jesus encourages them to follow his example: "You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while . So they went off in a boat to a lonely place where they could be by themselves" (Mk 6:31-32). Again the Greek word means "a desert place." On this occasion again, Jesus and the apostles sacrifice their solitude. The crowds follow them and Jesus takes pity on them, teaching, and later feeding them. But he has not forgotten his original plan! Mark tells us: "Directly after this he made his disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to Bethsaida, while he himself sent the crowd away. After saying good-bye to them he went off to the hills to pray" (Mk 6:45-46). Fr. Bruce Vawter suggests that both the apostles and the crowds were suffering from what he calls "messianic fever" and that it was necessary for both groups to be separated from Jesus and from each other for a time.r For both "the agony and the ecstasy" of his earthly life, Jesus chooses a place of solitude. Introducing the account of the transfiguration, Mark writes: "Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John and led them up a high mountain where they could be alone by themselves. There, in their presence, he was transfigured" (Mk 9-2). The last recorded instance where Jesus seeks a lonely place for prayer is before his Passion when he goes to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. Mark's Greek is simply "a piece of land." The name suggests the Hebrew word for "olive-press." John calls it "a garden" (see Jn 18:1), while Luke refers to it as "the Mount of Olives" (see Lk 22:39). Putting all this together, we could think of an olive-grove on a hilltop. Here, in his last "desert," Jesus faces his last temptation and surrenders to the will of his Father unto death. Owing to his gift for vivid descriptive narrative, Mark presents the most graphic pictures of Jesus hemmed in, suffocated, at times almost crushed by the crowds thronging to him for cures and instruction. The following sample passages speak for themselves: i :33: The whole town came crowding round the door . 2:2: So many people collected that there was no room left, even in front of the door. 3:9-10: And he asked his disciples to have a boat ready for him because of the crowd, to keep him from being crushed. For he had cured so many that all who were afflicted in any way were crowding forward to touch him. 3:20: He went home again, and once more such a crowd collected that they could not even have a meal. 5:31: His disciples said to him, "You see how thecrowd is pressing round you and yet you say, 'Who touched me?" "" 6:31:. for there were so many coming and going that the apostles had no time even to eat. 7See Bruce Vawter, C.M., The Four Gospels: An Introduction (Garden City: Doubleday and Co., Inc., 1967), p. 175. Wilderness and Marketplace: Prayer and Action in Mark / 201 Perhaps nowhere does the humanity of Jesus shine through so convinc-ingly as in this picture that Mark has left us of Jesus wearied and crushed by the crowds, exhausted in serving their needs, and going off to a desert place where he could be alone and pray. Mark's gospel shows us that the "time-pressure problem" in the apostolate as in other aspects of life, did not originate with the technological twentieth century. Jesus had to deal with it too. Most of us have made the discovery that too much emphasis on the quantity of our works and apostolic involvements can result in a deterioration in the quality of our presence to other people. In his book, The Human Adventure: Contemplation for Everyman, Fr. William McNamara reminds us: We need to become less crowded, less rushed, less dispersed, less victimized by the tyranny of diversion. We need to simplify our lives. We need to "collect" ourselves in periods of silence and places of solitude--not in order to withdraw or isolate ourselves from others, but in order to relate more thoughtfully and lovingly to at least some of the others, if not all.8 The same author makes a suggestion that might exasperate and even infuriate some of his readers, so impossible does it seem to be: I suggest that we stop doing half the work that presently consumes us. Then let us attend to the remaining half whole-heartedly, with contemplative vision and creative love. I stake the authenticity of our lives and the effectiveness of our work on this radical shift.9 When I first read this passage, I asked myself: "If I were to stop doing half of my present work, which half would it be?" Needless to say, the question was exceedingly difficult to answer. Even if we cannot take these words literally, there will be times when we will be wise to say that difficult little word, "No"--realizing that we are not expected to take on the salva-tion of the world single-handedly! True, prayer and discernment are needed to distinguish between lack of generosity and a genuine need to slow down. Jesus knew what it was like to work with human limitations of energy and opportunity. If he could unashamedly withdraw from the crowds, surely we need to do the same. Perhaps the outburst of activism we have witnessed in the Church during the pa~t few 3~ears is beginning to die down, thanks to the growing recognition that the person in a "mad rush" will never commu-nicate the healing touch and inner peace of Jesus. A large part of Mark's "Good News about Jesus Christ, the Son of God" (1: 1) is that he shared so completely in the weakness of our humanity. His methods must be ours. Mark's gospel tells us that we shall never be effective in the marketplaces of this world unless, like Jesus, we withdraw at times to the wilderness to be alone and pray. " 9William McNamara, O.C.D., The Human Adventure: Contemplation for Everyman (Garden City: Doubleday and Co., Inc., 1974), p. 165. Used with permission from the publisher. aMcNamara, op. cit., p. 171. Used with permission from the publisher. Trinity and Community Lewis S. Fiorelli, O.S.F.S. Father Fiorelli is superior of the community at De Sales Hall; 5001 Eastern Ave.; Hyattsville, MD 20782. The opening lines of the Book of Genesis have frequently served as a clue to an understanding of God and of man, and of the relationship between the two. Verses 26-27 of Chapter 1 express this relationship well: Then God said: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.". God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them. In Genesis, the origin of the universe in all its parts is attributed to God's creative activitythrough the agency of his Word. It suggests that the Word's highest work of creation was the imparting of the divine image (eikon) to man. It is well to understand the import of "image" so as to appreciate its significance for man, who is the ikon of God. Greek liturgical art can be helpful here, for in this art the ikon is not simply a picture which one observes objectively. Rather, for the Greek mind, the ikon makes the reality of the depicted mystery present to the observer. The ikon, then, serves as a medium of encounter between the observer and the mystery. If, for instance, the ikon depicts Jesus, the reality of Jesus is somehow made present to the observer through the ikon. In this way, Jesus and man encounter one another through the medium of the ikon. Such an encounter precludes neutrality; rather, it calls for a mutual response which is both personal and powerful. This understanding of ikon can powerfully deepen our appreciation of the biblical affirmation that man is the ikon of God. Man is created in such 202 Trinity and Community / 203 a way as to be able to make God present to his fellowman. In man, then, other men can encounter the reality represented by man: God himself. Only one man in history, of course, has made God fully present to his fellowman, because he was in fact the enfleshment or tangibility of God. That man is Jesus. However, something of his unique faculty as the true ikon Of the living God is also within the potential of all men and women, who also bear the divine image. But just what does man, the living ikon of God, make present to his fellowman? In the fulness of revelation, personally expressed in Jesus, we have learned that our God is community. Father, Son and Holy Spirit partake of the one same essence and yet are three persons. The oneness of the Godhead expresses itself in the plurality of persons, the community we call Trinity. As ikon of God, man makes community present to his fellow-man and enables him to participate in it. More emphatically, as ikon of the divine community, man finds himself, his meaning and his ultimate purpose in, from, and with others. In being God's ikon, man is oriented toward others: God and his fellowman. The man Jesus has been called "the man for others" because of his intermediary role, making God present in a saving way to man. Contempo-rary biblical ~cholarship is unanimous in assigning to Jesus a sensitive and sustained awareness of being sent on behalf of the God whom he knows as Father. Jesus finds his own meaning in the message which proclaims the arrival of the Father's kingdom among men. Again and again he assures those to whom he ministers: "My doctrine is not my own; it comes from him who sent me" (Jn 7:16). Jesus is sensitive to the reality that all he does and is derives from the Father, for "he who gives me glory is the Father" (Jn 8:54). He sums up this radical orientation when he responds to Philip: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father . I am in the Father and the Father is in me . It is the Father who lives in me accomplishing his works" (Jn 14:9-10). It is precisely because Jesus, the divine ikon, was unswervingly oriented toward others that as man he was the visible mani-festation of God, and, as such, the saving presence of God to man. Schille-beeckx terms him "the primordial sacrament of man's encounter with God." Jesus, fully the ikon of God, makes the Community which is the Trinity present to man and to creation. In Jesus, man and all creation encounter the Community of God, and this encounter is the saving deed of God on behalf of both! Made to the image of divine community and redeemed by Jesus on behalf of the same community, each man is called to manifest this commu-nity by locating his meaning in others: in God and in his fellowman. St. Francis de Sales is deeply sensitive to the trinitarian nature of God, to man's creation in the image of this divine community, and to man's consequent challenge to find his meaning in and on behalf of community. He affirms in the Treatise oll the Love of God that though "God is sole he 904 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/2 is not thereby solitary" (AE IV: 204).1 And he insists that "we are created to the image and likeness of God. What does this mean if not that we have the utmost congruity with his divine majesty?" (AE IV: 74). Further, since each man possesses the image and is therefore the ikon of God, Francis preaches that "we are the image of one another, all of us representing only the one portrait who is God" (AE X: 270-271). It is the Salesian conviction that the community of man is the collective portrait of the Community which is God. In preaching on the Lord's high priestly prayer for unity (Jn 17), St. Francis de Sales asks: "Who else would have dared., to make such a comp~.rison and ask that we be united as the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit are joined together?" (AE X:267). Together men form the portrait of God and together they are intended to realize the community of which they are the image. For this reason, Francis de Sales preaches that "man has been created to the resemblance of God; therefore, love of the neighbor leads us to love in him the resemblance and image of God, that is to say [that we are to help] to render this resemblance more and more perfect" (AE VIII: 148). In all of this there is a profound simplicity. Community creates man; man is the image or ikon of community. The other-directedness of man is rooted in the other-directedness of his Trinitarian God. Therefore, man is radically community

Issue 38.4 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Robin 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 5.5802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1979 Volume 38 Number 4 Correspoudence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 4.28; 3601 LindeH Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Journey Into Ancestral Fear Mary Grant, L.S.A. Sister Mary's work in strife-torn Belfast has influenced much of her writing. Last year, Our Sunday Visitor published "'Yes in Belfast" under the title, "Yes Lord," which has proven to be a popular source of meditations for many in the United States. She is also involved in Christian Life Communities. Our correspondence address is through Wilbert Forker; 2 Bristow Park; Upper Malone Rd.; Belfast 9; Ireland. Walking up The Falls, reaching out in my heart to the whole city . one with the countless people who have trod this ground through many centuries . Gathering perceptions: sounds, stir-rings of life, the signs ofdeeperlife. Opening up to the signs of death, decay: the burnt-out chimney, the gaping walls--another life, an-other force . The new trees planted: that they would represent Life--not just trees planted on the green of the dead . Gathering all into a unity, integrating all: "Listen to the cry of Your People, Lord! My heart cries their cry--the cry of a thousand years is gathered into Your Presence. When I came to live in this city first, my immediate reaction to hesitant queries was, "Of Course I'm not afraid!" Then one night I dropped a friend in East Belfast, a part of the city I' wasn't familiar with. I missed a turn and found myself lost. Every tiny street was blocked at the end; every time I turned, my headlights picked up "King Billy" on the walls--and slogans! It seemed.every door opened to see who was in the strange tar: I was seized With nameless terror. I could not get out and ask my way. I felt threatened, trapped, alone! 481 4B2 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 In that night I realized how the fears of our environment had entered into me, despite myself. I understood the fears of those who walked alone at night, defenseless. I understood the fear of many people who had not left their district for years, never entered the "unknown" behind the barriers. Some children have never seen behind the barriers that their parents have erected. How do we learn to break through these fears? How do we become revitalized from the paralysis which hampers us? It is easy to quote. "Per-fect love casts out fear" (IJn 4)! But the truth is that we are a covenant people who have been unfaithful to that spirit of love and community by which all men were supposed to recognize the disciples of the Lord. I believe we have first of all calmly to acknowledge that fact, without blame or judgment on either side. And, equally calmly, we have to go about creating bonds of community. In these last few years we have talked much of justice. Our chief work of justice, though, involves our relationship to this covenant---our relationship among ourselves. What Are the Causes of Oppression Around Us? Reflecting on that night, on the grotesque forms of the unknown, I came to see that fear wears many guises. If we ponder on the question, What are the real causes of oppression around us?, immediately there come the replies: "British domination," Loyalist selfishness," "Social apathy," "I.R.A. Terrorism," "Unemployment," "Subhuman housing," and so forth. These are the likely response of a great number of people, depending on which side of the barriers they stand. ' ~ I'm beginning to be more convinced that the~ real ~answer is our-selves--- our memories, our inability to forgive, to be Christlike; to know what to do and how to be as a Christian in the face of injusticei oppression. Our reaction to oppression has been very different fr6m that of the'early Christians. We look back on our Irish history as a people--checkered, erratic: like many anation. But as Christians; how have we fac(d~it? (I mean aH who call themselveS Christian.) We have retaliated with violence, crude-ness, injustice, in just as bitter a way. Some of us say: "We have not thrown bombs! We don't believe that vio-lence is the answer." But have our hearts changed from republicanism or loyalism to a truly Christian approach to life? These labels really stand for all those people who wish to maintain their status quo, even at the cost of the lives of thej.r brothers and sisters. The death of hope is a high cost to pay for a moment's security behind artificial barriers. You ~Will Find in People What You Expect to Find . ~ Why is the change so difficult to'accomplish? Why-are we still talking about it, rather than simply living in love? I wonder, have we really listened to what the violence is saying? I think it is only the dreadful symptom of Journey into Ancestral Fetir / what is happening to the heart of our people. I hear it as a'scream for help, the screaming of the voiceless. I see it not as someihing we can meet head-on, but amid a persistent reaching out in understanding love of peo-ple's' real needs. I'm convinced of the necessity to get at the cat]se. If not, we'll become submerged ifi the symptoms which will get wors~ and worse no matter how we cover them up. Such encounters with our ancestral depths make it ciear to me that one of the deep-seated causes is the colonizer/colonized mentalities from which springs the. dividing wall of fear, mistrust, suspicion. The ancestral wounds have not healed. A change of mentality.does not happen overnight. It is the growth of a long searching, a patient understanding and a persevering love. Unless we have the cpurage to risk the leap of faith'towards our brother, whoever he is, (and I'm not talking simply about Loyalist and Republican), we cannot hope to begin this change of mentality. And we all need it. ! need first of all to learn to live with myself. I have to' learn to live with my brothers,~my neighbors. Then I can open out to.the wider ~zommunity! The reasons which move people to suc.h positioris are mainly historical. But to grow as a people, to be Christian, we have to reach out across these historical, cultural, spiritual barriers and create a climate of acceptance and understanding of each other. And it musi. be two-way: I must address tile barriers of fear. mistrust, hatred, pride, prejudice within me--overcome them in myself first, and then move outwards. But how many of us have learned to live with ourselves? How many of us have integrated within ourselves the various strands of our ancestry? If I take even the first tentative steps in this process of integration, of growth, I discover that there are no ready-made answers in the movement outwards again towards my brothers. I can only share what I have dis-covered in my attempt to follow Christ. ! discover that I learn all the time, from the people I move among. Yes, God is still speaking today. We need to let him change us! ; His peace will not be found in mass meetings for peace, but in changed lives. While that is true, it is also true that many of the mass meetings for peace do spring from the changed lives of thousands of people, a change which has been taking place ~quietly over the last few years. It seems a change of climate has been growing--a springtime. However, unless it springs from areal change of heart it will die do~wn and get nowhere. I'd fear to think of peace as simply the absence of violence among us. When we experience a comparative lull, as recently we did, how do we read it? Is the lull a nursing of our wounds, a hardening of attitudes? Or is it a time of healing? We have had many violent episodes in the past which eventually died down. But our hearts didn't change. Unless this change of attitude prompts'us to really seek out our brother, to understand him, as he is and not to try to change him, then it is but a caricature of Christianity--you will find in your brother only what you bring, what you are. 41~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 Becoming iMore Fully Human The trouble with most of us is that we haven't fully explored who we are. We transfer to our brother a whole lot of that deep subconscious which we haven't faced in ourselves. What is growth, integration, but a process of becoming more truly the person I am not some dream, or ideal, but truly myself. It is not easy to live with a known self, no matter how many angles, or how many depths of light and darkness that self holds. Within the context of what it means to be Christian, I see this growth as a process of Incarnation. Very often we are so close to all that is happening in this .process that we cannot see clearly at all what is .happening while it is happ6ning. Occa-sionally we have to stand back and look from a different viewpoint. Then whole new worlds of meaning light up our horizon. Through a brief en-counter w, ith the East, I myself had some such ~experience. When our separate worlds met (first, second, third), in my being lifted out of my own life experience of p.overty, need, struggle, into a totally "different" world, I experienced "living through Incarnation," not simply looking to it for meaning. I went carrying the burden of this seemingly impossible situation in our country. Would anything the East could teach thl:ow light on that? The situation of other nations was just as appalling. Where might hope be found? I felt saddened by the many who know only a hopeless resignation, and more saddened by those who channel their despair into reckless violence. The presence of Christ assured me that this was only part of the picture, but I had not had the reference ofmy o~vn experience to work on. I had not seen, touched, tasted, so I did not know--I hung on 'to belief. I felt stifled by the polarization of parts of my home-city into ghetto areas which prevents the natural giving and taking in which reaching oi)t and sharing would promote reconciliation. I felt frustrated by the third force which goads each side against the other rather thanwork for peace; The "ancestral fears" of our environment had eaten into us so deeply that I did not recognize them in myself. Yet, in the midst of this atmosphere of defeat, His hope rose up and beckoned more gtrongly, buoying me up. In our sheer need I saw Him at work in broken lives--healing, restoring. But there were so many ques-tions. So much I needed to'learn. In my being lifted out of my own life-exp+ rience of poverty, need, struggle, into a totally "different" world, I felt I lived through this "God becoming man" again. I was not outside, looking on. I became man--human. If I might look for a key word to describe this experience of Incarnation, it might be sharing. Too many have gone from the West to the East to give--to satisfy a nagging sense that "we must do something." We, though, in approaching our hosts with empty, open hearts, found ourselves en-riched beyond measure: reverence for the other; stillness, waiting. Entering into another's reality means going outside the self. Journey into Ancestral Fear Sharing, Not Distributing If we have not gone outside of self, outside "our" great world, we will remain on the level of doing. We will distribute from our bag of tricks and wonder.why, one day, it runs empty and we haven't that -powerful" feeling any more. No, to share speaks of equality. Sharing never makes others dependent, never prevents growth, never closes the door to a return. What else is sharing, but the life of the Trinity of love? Christ prayed that we may be one as They are one. Life is not life at all unless it is shared. To share the ordinary things of life gives me an idea of what it will be like to share the life of God. Have we learned to live a little like our God of Love? Could I truthfully say: "All I have is yours"? (see Jn 17:10). In my eagerness to live for the good of my own people, I learned that I had been affected by the Western sickness of wanting to give all the time. In being thrown back on my personal poverty and powerlessness, I have learned better how to receive--graciously, lovingly. It has opened up a beautiful new perspective in regard to all those whose lives touch mine, whether that might be family, work, community, friends, strangers. To all people, I have learned from the East the meaning of the simple, demanding statement: "I am for you.", Simple realities we take so much for granted have assumed a deeper significance: the really deprived among us are those without hope, those who have not discovered the immense riches of their true selves, those who hide behind barriers of fear, mistrust, hatred; those of us who dare not celebrate a life we feel too fragile; those ofus who have lost the festivity and joy of living. "What does it matter if you gain the whole world and lose your true self?." (Mk 8:36). In being evangelized by those people considered "poor" in the eyes of the world, I have become more deeply human--just as I have received my reality as a person also from those to whom I have been sent here at home. There Are No "Them" and "Us" As He turned to his people he felt great compassion: he wanted to reach out. His very desire for their good healed them--he truly "lived with" their need. There are no "them" and "us"--it is always "we together." He wants to free each one of us from our fears, doubts, hesitations, inabilities, limitations. He wants to launch us on his mission, before his healing power can effectively flow through us. 1 think ! lost any trace of the "Messiah complex," of "giving Christ to the world" rather than discovering him present inall peoples, during that time in the East. This true sharing leads to a deep communion. The bonds of community grow in the measure that we share who we are with all men. How do I approach those on the other side of the barriers in our own environment? Is it from a position of strength toward weakness? Is it from a position of "having it all" and needing to satisfy a nagging sense that "we must do something"? Or do those of us who genuinely want to reach out to others, 4~16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 do so from the reality of being grasped by Christ,freed by him, impelled by his love to proclaim that he is alive today--among us? There is something deep within each of us as human beings that makes us want to live in communion with others. I don't want to approach anyone, or want to break through barriers, with the attitude of "them out there," of "isn't it awful?," of "what can we do about it?" I would rather like to receive all with an empty, open heart, in reverence, in stillness--in waiting, if need be. Entering into another's reality means entering into the "why" of the fears, barriers, defenses. Do I live with a sense of equality among all? When we talk of neighborliness, of friendship across the barriers, could I truthfully say to you, "All I have is yours!"? Only then can we return to each other the festivity and joy of living. How One Man Became Free In the slums of Manila, where 80% of the people live below the poverty line, they spoke with us about the climate of fear and oppression around them. There was no hint of hopelessness--though one often met with a feeling of powerlessness. This was brought home to us as one group told us how they had come across the wife and family of a well-known political prisoner. ~ This manhad been in a position equivalent to the opposition. Since the introduction of martial law he had been in prison, and denied the right to ordinary legal proceedings for a trial. A military tribunal hearing was to begin the following day. His wife pleaded with us visitors to. come with her. With some apprehension as to possible consequences, we did, and' were amazed to find the courtroom nearly filled with priests and sisters morally upholding the prisoner~ The hearings of his challenge to the tribunal was an outstanding example of real strength against injustice. A remark he made during the trial has echoed in my mind through all the weeks and months which followed: My cell door, ironically, has been my door to freedom. Having walked through it, I have lost my fears. It became my door to freedom when I finally acknowledged its threats as the promise of liberation and truth . I cannot yield to you my spirit and my conscience. I am yielding to might but not to right . After four years in confinement, 1 have finally realized that man must fear most the prison of his own making--the prison of fear itself. Freedom From Fear I returned with renewed'faith--God, who has begun this great thing, humanity, and Christianity; will see it through. Sharing in his love for all those whose lives touch mine, I dare to believe that he can use even me to bring life to a world without hope. And, when I am united with you., and you., who believe, the kingdom of God has come among us. "There are no experts, only disciples who learn by doing." ~An'd, when we are given the courage to launch out into (he deep, we don't know where Journey into Ancestral Fear that "doing" will end! When Christ raised Lazarus from the dead, he gave him ~over to the people wh6 surrounded them to be unbound. So, as he raises us, he gives us to each other to continue the unbinding--receiving our reality from each other, giving each other our freedom--in dignity, simplic-ity, beauty, hospitality. "Yes, we are a happy, carefree people, but something is happening to our hearts which we do not understand." The worst form of poverty is to be alive without hope. To be without hope is to be without Him---our Savior. But where He is, there is no fear: "Perfect love casts out fear" (1 Jn 18). I came away from the East free of a fear which had paralyzed and prevented all aspects of my life. And so I understood the fear in our environment here at home. The historic wounds are so deep, part of the very fabric of our lives--so deep we might not recognize ourselves without them. As God touches our beings personally, gradually, gently., leading us toward personal wholeness in him, so he touches us as a people. He, as it were, goes back into history and heals the wounds history has left behind. This is the healing we need as a nation. ~ This freedom from fear enables us to proclaim by our lives: "Serenity--knowing we are loved, assured, at peace with him and our-selves; Stability--God is God, let Him be God. He holds all, hand it over to him. Tranquillity---overflowing from an abiding sense of his presence among US. Capability--his power in our lives, his power overflowing to others. This is our service--to be open to all: the fruit of the Spirit of peace among us. We need to speak for God in these our troubled times as reso-lutely as the prophets of old. We need to proclaim joy, hope, peace in the midst of the many disasters round about. Real hope dawns when there is no other possibility than absolute dependence on God---our foot constantly wearing out his doorstep! The Brotherhood of Man is Possible! Already, as I was learning these truths more deeply, thousands of peo-ple were rising up at home and speaking fearlessly for peace, forging stronger ties towards reconciliation. Since then, freedom has been pro-claimed again and again, echo6d by a thousand voices. In the past, gather-ings in war left bitterness, hatred, division festering in age-old wounds. And then enough people said, "We have been governed by fear" to enable gatherings in peace, and joy, forging links of reconciliation. Yes, I learned how to face our fears, turn my back on them, and reso-lutely turn towards all that builds up a climate of reconciliation, strength-ened not by any ability but by my weakness and dependence on His strength. It was worth going to the other end of the world to learn that alone ! 488 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 I have felt great sadness at these gatherings too. How effective they will ultimately be depends on how many present have risen out of their fear, how deeply and how realistically each one becomes peace. Too many are carried along on waves of emotion! Yet the brotherhood of man is possible---even here! The answer to the divisions, exploi/ations, war, hatred, rejection, hunger, fear-in-the-world is our Christ of the Beatitudes, with his call to share. There is only one human family. But if we have never experienced human love, can we offer love, or understand what struggle for another involves, or live a life of communion with God? And how can anyone know love--unless you and I love? In the past I have been constantly strengthened by the beautiful expressions of love and hospitality, of generosity, of sharing that I have known among our people here, daily witnessing to the fact that even in our shattered lives the spirit of love is at work among us. Iam filled with more hope than ever. And I am very, very, grateful at being placed near people in .need--at the heart of my people's search for him; at the point of their desire for him. Life has always been beautiful and full of the surprises of God: that beauty has been increased a thousandfold for me. I feel hope rising in leaps 6f Joy: Expect the impossible! Believe the unbelievable! Proclaim the truth !--For God is with us! Each, returned to his own Galile~i, can proclaim fearlessly that which we have seen, touched, tasted (1 Jn 1:1). He is here. He is with us. Hope makes us live. ForHe is our peace. Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine is a frequent contributor to these pages. Her last article appeared in September, 1978. She resides at 91 Overlook Ave.; Latham, NY 12110. For a long time now, he had haunted me, this acerbic little man-- haunted me and annoyed me. He seemed so utterly sore: ulcerous wounds on the outside, bleeding heart on the inside. Who needed it? Who also needed his words--thunderous, vehement complaints~de-nouncing life, God, man. Quite honestly, who wanted to tangle with all this writhing agony? It might underscore the already too familiar. So determinedly, I put him aside and concentrated on other things: the joy of Joseph, the fidelity of Ruth, the.trusting surrender of Esther. But they occupied my time, not my mind. For behind them all, there he sat, that angry, implacable figuremstinking, screaming, wildly gesticulating. Ulti-mately, against my will and better judgment, he antagonized me to his side--flies and all. To be candid, I hate flies. And odors like disease and manure, And unmitigated complaining. And pseudo-sympathy. It all talks and walks like death. So I didn't really like Job in his utter humanity. It was too graphically prophetic. That was the haunting part. The annoying part is that, in spite of all of it, I stayed. So now there are two of us si~ting in the noonday sun--hot and stubborn and mad. Eventually, someone will have to speak. In the end it was Job who broke the silence and cursed the day of his birth (Jb 3:1). 489 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Just like that--for twenty-six verses--spewing out anger. Why was he born? Why couldn't he die? Words filled with dread of the future, sleepless-ness, lament. Grief has a way of doing that, you know. Utter stone., then the crack across the surface. A few heaves--abruptly a mountain becomes a volcano, lava of words and emotion searing out everywhere. Shock on the faces of onlookers st.ampeding to take cover: "Spare us your painful fire, please. Please.'~ While the volcano rages on. And then., the deathlike stillness ¯ . . followed by meaningless words trying to make meaning. A survivor gasps: "Then Eliphaz of Teman spoke: 'If I were as you are, Job . . .' " If ¯ . . if. Through all the wreckage and debris. "If I were as you." if. The irony of those words: Who can be like Job, when one is sound and whole and safe, free from loss, darkness, despair? Speaking out of loved ones alive and farm lands intact, what can such a one as Eliphaz know of unanswered questions, heartrending supplications? For him, do they even exist? Silence. Then, imperceptibly, a stirring from the ashpit, a flicker of the eyelash. Job speaks: If only my misery could be weighed . What wonder then if my words are wild? The arrows of Shaddai stick fast in me . My spirit absorbs their poison (6: I-4). Ah yes--those poisonous arrows of Shaddai; those intimations of doom from Sheol that stick deep. into the soul; the-certain knowledge- that never again will there be innocence and joy. And always there ~are the bitter questions asked over and over of self: Will I be able to go on? Why go on anyway? Where are my friends? Why can't they understand? Fear and loneliness. The Underworld. Someone creeps near to draw out the stir~g, to touch the cracked skin. It is Bildad. He urges humility: You too, if so pure and honest must now seek God, plead with Shaddai (8:4-5). These are soothing words indeed: "ff you are honest." This is an answer with insight!?'Seek God; plead with Shaddai." How is Job to do this when Shaddai has disappeared? Where is God to be found for Job, the sufferer? A lull ensues. The hot breeze blows. Flies buzz. Then a voice. And Job said: Your own hands shaped me, modeled me: And would you now have second thoughts and destroy me? (10:8). The appeal and bargaining begin. Who hasn't done it? Bargaining with self; Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 49"1 bargaining with God. And the panic: how dare oppose the Almighty's will? How dare question Yahweh God Omnipotent? Suppose I am right? Wha.t difference would it make? Suppose I am wrong? What then? Yet, what is there to lose when one has already lost everything? "Yahweh, give a little happiness before death." Is this too much to ask? Appeal and bargain-ingwwho hasn't done it? .Zophar apparently. For he queries pontifically: Can you claim to grasp the mystery of God, To understand the perfection of Shaddai? It is higher than the heavens; what can you do? It is deeper than Sheol; what can you know? (11:7-8) Truth--unadorned and stark. What can you do? Nothing. What can you know? Nothingwabsolutely nothing. That is the darkness, the pain. Help-lessness in the face of the abyss--the human condition. What can you know? What can you do? Nothing--nothing except to confront Yahweh. Despair--the human condition. Then, convoluting tortuously, comes the rush of Job's words, ejaculated with the vehemence of despair, discharged with the agony of futility, resolute like one,maddened: I mean to remonstrate with God; I will do the talking, whatever may befall me. I put my flesh between my teeth, I take my life in my hands. Let him kill me if he will (13:3-15). The pathos of those words, the frenzy! The "last-chance syndrome." Where have we heard it before? From what corner of the universe has'it n0t cried out? V~e havehea'rd it on the lips of the dying; in the hearts of survivors; from the tomb called old age and rejection; out of the spectral ¯ stare of disease and starvation. Who has not, at some point in life, taken one's flesh in one's hands, remonstrated with God? But Eiiphaz cannot understand. Not yet having plumbed the depths of misery, never having drunk suffering's cup to the dregs, he cannot fathom .the pain that would drive a man to contend with God. He only sees the obvious: anger and rebellion. And sohe says: ~'See how passion carries you away!" Passion--that double-edged sword of grief and joy, the ecstasy and bestiality of man, the most cherished and most despised of gifts. Passion. Who has not longed for its transforming unity? Who has not wept over its fragmenting discord? Passion. I watch him--Job~as he masticates Eliphaz's words. He chews them carefully as one chews a fish with bones. He moves his teeth cautiously around them and just as cautiously his t6ngue. But he will not swallow 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 them. He holds them in his mouth, in one corner of his cheek, and stares ahead at emptiness. "Swallow them," I plead silently, urgently, "or spit them out. Don't hold them lest they choke you." But there is nothing-- only that awful bulbous cheek and the empty stare. It is mid-afternoon, the height of heat and sun, reason's siesta time. Perspiration drips. Things swim before the eyes: mirages, desert visions, subconscious creatures from the soul. The universe crumples like a folded fan. The breeze pants hot across inert bodies, creating the sense of being played upon, fretted. And then, heartrendingly Job cries out: He has shattered me! He has pierced me! He has breached me! He has borne down on me! Every fibre of my heart is broken! I weep! I cry out! Still he shoots his arrows into me! I am overcome! (16:17) The Litany of Passion, divine passion. Good old platitudinous Eliphaz has finally hit the mark. Unerringly, unknowingly, Job has be'en ravished. In the nakedness of a cloudless day, we have seen him vanquished, embraced. He gasps and swallows. The lump travels to his throat and lodges. Is it possible that loss is no longer what he wails? Could it be that he and Yahweh are suddenly bartering for surrender? Without moving an inch, Job has traversed a terrain. I swallow too. Silence impregnates solitude. No one stirs. The sun moves impercep-tibly. A shade begins. Coolness trickles down my brow. 'I close my eyes and wipe the damp. I feel like sleep. Or death. I feel like dying, if dying is so much a pouring out. I feel like.sleep if sleep is like release. I feel . Mournfully into the dusk, Bildad speaks, musing: Driven from light into darkness man is an exile from the earth (18:18). "Driven from light into darkness." Like the sun's course. Like the ocean's tide. Like the season's change: Like life's pattern! Dawn, noon, night. High, ebb, low. Fertility, fall, winter. Birth, life, death. "Driven from light into darkness." Man. The mood is infectious. Night hedges in. Animal cries echo. And Job takes up the refrain: God, you must know, is my oppressor and his is the net that closes round me. He has covered my way with darkness. My kindred and my friends have all gone away. The hand of God has struck me (19:6-21). Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 493 "Driven from light into darkness." And suddenly, like a meteor across the sky, Hope flares briefly: But this 1 know, I, Job, that my Avenger lives, and he, the Last, will take his stand on earth. He will set me close to him, and from my flesh I shall look on God. He whom I shall see will take my part; These eyes will gaze on him and find him not aloof (19~25-27). It is the song of the prisoner, the condemned. It is the avowal of the sick man, dying. It is the prayer of the faithful soul, deserted. "I know that my Avenger lives." His words fall into the air dropping like snow on velvet, glistening and hushed. The moon rises and clouds over; the stars wink and disappear. It is the inky time of night. Absolute aloneness. Total isolation. Simple breath-ing is intrusion. And I think: "Enveloped by the darkness, shall we quietly slip away'?" The eternal temptation of friendship: to quietly slip away. Will he even know we're gone, so absorbed is he in pain? Will he even care, since, in fact, we cannot help? Is there any point to vigils when the heart lies already dead? Truly, how far does fidelity go? How deep does commitment bind? Ironically, Job gives the answer: fidelity is radical. Its presence is an absolute grace; its absence, an absolute sorrow not to be compared. Job has known the calamity of loss, the pain of bereavement, the suffering of illness. Yet, none of these hold the anguish of desertion and infidelity which is the dark night of the soul; the index tingler of Yahweh scraping across the heart; the Ruah, his breath, blowing in the memory, tantalizing, near, but indescribably far away. From this void of absolute emptiness, Job laments in prayer: That heavy hand of his drags groans from me. If only 1 knew how to reach him, or go travel to his dwelling! If I go eastward, he is not there; or westward--still I cannot see him. If I seek him in the north, he is not to be found; invisible still when I turn to the south . For darkness hides me from him and the gloom veils his Presence from me (23:2-17). This is Psalm 139 prayed backwards. Even in desolation, Job is a good Israelite. And how accurately he speaks. When human friends depart, the griefis great, but who can measure the torment which ensues when God withdraws? "Under cover of darkness, Yahweh, have You, too, slipped away?" So I sit and wait and rest. The night leaks out drop by drop. Minutes become ages, then cease. It is the hour of desolation, which is timeless. 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Inevitable. "And Job continues his solemn discourse. He says:" Who will bring me back to the months that have gone, and the days when G~d was my guardian; When his lamp shone over my hi~ad~ and his light was my guide in the darkness? I cry out to you and you give me no answer (29:1-4; 30:20). How does one deal with that--the silence of~non-response, the answer of the void? Does one walk away dejectedly or does one catapult into the abyss? There is death either way. And thus, Job carefully considers, examines his days and his nights, probes his heartaches and ecstasies, fingers his hopes and his dreams. Is their memory worth silence or speech, retreat or confrontation? And then with a mighty leap, embodying faith and despairJob issues the challenge, directly, forcibly, to God: Who can get me a hearing from God?~ I have had my say from A to Z; now let Shaddai answer me~ When my Adversary has drafted his writ against me, I shall wear it on my shoulder, and bind it round my head like a royal turban. I will give him an account of every step Of my life, and go as boldly as a prince to.meet him (31:35-40). With this ringing declaration, argumentation ceases; lament is done. "End of the words of Job" (31:40). A tremulous pause. Terror grips. Awe invades. The e]arth turns over and I am sick, my senses reeling. Roaring thunder, thickening night. "My God! My God! We are strangling to death. Our words regurgitate." The desert sand flails. I cover my face; I grovel on the earth; I burrow into the dirt. "And then from the heart of the tempest, Yahweh gave Job his answer" (38:1). In fifty eight questions! And Job replied to Yahweh: My words have been frivolous; what can I reply? 1 had better lay my finger on my lips. (40:3-4) God has a way of doing that--giving questions for answers. He has shown himself divine Socratic: And Yahweh God called to the man: Where are you? (Gn 3:9). Yahweh asked Cain: Where is your brother Abel? (Gn 4:9). YahWeh asked Abraham: Why did Sarah laugh? (Gn 18:13). And the one who wrestled with Jacob said: Why do you ask my Name? (Gn 32:29). And Yahweh answered Moses: Who makes man deaf or dumb, gives him sight or leaves him blind?Is it not I, Yahweh? (Ex 4:12). In fact, all through Salvation History we have been closing our mouths Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 495 with our fi .ngers~too late. Job is in good company. I relax and come up for air,. And Job gave answer to Yahweh: I know that you are all powerful: what you conceive, you can perform. I am the man who obscured your designs with my empty-headed words. 1 have been holding forth on matters I cannot understand; on marvels beyond me and my knowledge (42:1-3). Humility. Man before the divine. Nature kneeling to Transcendence. The mystery of God. And Job replied: I retract all I have sa!d; In dust and ashes, I repent (42:!-3). The beauty of humanity. Its capacity for enlargement. Its yearning for completeness. Its ability to change. Because 1 knew you then by hearsay, but now I see you with my own eyes (42:5). Knowledge of the heart. Contemplation and surrender. Incarnation re-versed: man entering into God, Peace. My pulse resumes. My heart begins to beat. I can see that I am stained. I can see that I can see.t A mist of rose gathers in the east. A breeze sighs. Or is it Eliphaz? And Yahweh God said to Eliphaz of Teman: 'I burn with anger against you and your two friends for not speaking truthfully a~out:me as my servant Job has done. So now find seven bullocks and seven rams, and take them back with.you to my servant Job, and offer a holocaust for yourselves, while Job, my servant, offers prayers for you. I will listen to him with favor and excuse your folly in not speaking of me properly as my servant Job has done.' Eliphaz of Teman, Bildad of Shuah and Zophar of Naamath went away to do as Yahweh had ordered, and Yahweh listened to Job with favor (42:7-9). So now there are two of us sitting in the morning's dawn, tired, and joyful, and reborn. Someone will have to speakmbut no one does. There is only the echo of a deeper silencemthe silence of refrain: Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations? Who decided the dimensions of:it; do you know? Have you ever gi~,en orders to the morning? Have you journeyed to the sources of the sea? Which is the way to the home of light? Where does darkness live? Has the rain a father? What womb brings forth the ice? (38; 39) Riddles. Unsolved riddles. Man, and mystery, and wonder. Pain, and suffering, and death. The human condition. Riddles. Unsolved riddles. And 496 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979/4 always the eternal unyielding question: "Do you really want {o reverse My judgment and put Me in the wrong to put yourself in the right?" (40:3) I stretch and rise to go. Job never notices. He is wrapt in prayer, I suppose, for Eliphaz, Bildad, and Teman. 1 shake out my robe, flex my toes inside my sandals. I start across the sand. The dusty road coils away and flows into the sky; the air trembles with the weight of birds; the grasses caress the soil. Love and infinity. Providence and care. The human condi-tion. I plod on down the road, humming as I go: Has the rain a father? What womb brings forth the ice? Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in.Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address" Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I Robert M. Doran, S.J. Father Doran delivered three lectures at Creighton University last year as part of a Spiritual Enric.hment Program. This isthe first one in article form. He resides in the Jesuit Community; Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, NE 68178. Christian Spiritual Transformation: Self-Transcendence and Self-Appropriation This is the first of three articles on the subject of Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spirituality. The present article will focus on the latter of these two items, on Christian spiritual transformation as this is understood at the present moment in the life of the Church. By concentrat-ing on two terms frequently employed in the works of Bernard Lonergan, self-transcendence and kelf-appropriation, I hope to provide a context for the next two articles, which will deal more extensively with Jung. This first article will treat, first, Christian spiritual tranformation as self-transcendence; second, Christian spiritual transformation as growth in self-knowledge orself-appropriation; third, the levels of consciousness that can be discovered when one enters on the way of self-appropriat!on; and fourth, the relation of feelings and symbols to these various levels or dimensions of consciousness. This fourth topic locates that element of our interior lives in regard to which Jung's insights become pertinent for our spiritual self-understanding. I have discovered that any such treatment of Jung as the present one eventually brings me into that form of discrimination which, in Ignatian 497 4911 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 spirituality, is called the discernment of spirits. Jung is a religiously contro-versial figure. Not only does my own treatment and evaluation of Jung tend to arouse rather than quell the arguments that surround his person and his work, but, more significantly, my critical response to Jung always ~arries me to the heart of the Christian exigence to differentiate the true call of God from the subtle attractions of the force~ of evil as these two contrary tendencies compete for the allegiance of men and women involved in the renewal of the contemporary Church. Why this is so will hopefully be-come clear in the subsequent articles, especially in the final one. But perhaps I can offer now some indication of the difficulty. First, then, Jung ih a religiously controversial figure. The religious significance of his psychological insights is variously interpreted. John A. Sanford and Morton Kelsey are two well-known authors who have drawn on Jung to promote and understand Christian self-discovery.~ On the other hand, James Hiilman has. maintained that Jung's guidelines to "soul-making" are of a completely different order from the well-known paths to spiritual transformation in Christ and from the insights of the other major religious traditions of the world,z Martin Buber entered into direct conflict with Jung, claiming that the psychology of individuation and Yahwistic faith are diametrically opposedorientations.of the human spirit.3 Jung him-self, as we shall see, gives some indications of his own that the process of individtiation will lead the cognoscentes to the position of being able to dispense with all forms of traditional religious involvement; but he also attempted to offer his psychology as an aid to the pastoral care of souls.4 What 'is one to make of these differences and ambiguities? Obviously, some framework must be found to enable us to enter on the kind of process that Lonergan calls dialectic and foundations: the process, namely, in which we not only assemble and review alternative interpretations, but also evalt~ate and compare them, reduce their affinities and oppositions to their underlyin~ roots,.determine which, if any, of.these roots stand in dialectical ~See, for example,~John A. Sanford, Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (Philadelphia and New York: Lippincott, 1968); Healing and Wholeness (New York: Paulist Press, 1977); Morton Kelsey, Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit, A Christian Interpretation (New York: Doubleday, 1968); Encounter with God: A Theology of Christian Experience (Minneap61is: Bethany, 1972). 2See James Hillman, The Myth of Analysis: Three Essays in Archetypal Psychology (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1972). I quote from p. 21: "The spiritual-director models of guru, rabbi, oflgnatius or Fenelon, of Zen master, are only substitutions on which we lean for want of surety about the true model for psychology." 3See Edward C. Whitmont, "Prefatory Remarks to Jung~s 'Reply to Buber,' " in Spring: An Annual of Archetypal Psychology andJungian Thought (1973), pp. 188-195; and C; G. Jung, "Religion and Psychology: A Reply to Martin Buber," ibid., pp. 196-203. 4Compare C. G. Jung, "'Is Analytical Psychology a Religion?" (notes on a talk given by Jung, in Sprihg, 1972, pp. 144-148) with Jung's "Psychotherapists or the Clergy," in C. G. Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1933), pp. 221-244. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 499 opposition to one another in such wise that only a radical transformation of the basic horizon can achieve reconciliation, and, finally, choose that basic horizon and those resultant positions and interpretations which we will make our own.5 Such a framework is what I hope to offer in theopresent article. Secondly,- my own judgments and decisions regarding the potential spiritual fruitfulness of Jung's work are themselves controversial, at least in the sense that they will please neither Jung's detractors nor his enthusias-tic followers. For I will sharply differentiate the process of Christian self-transformation from the way to individuation that .lung maps out for us. But I will also insist with equal force that there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn from him in developing both a theology and an ascesis of" spiritual transformation in the context of the contemporary world. Thirdly, the only final arbiter of the kind of discrimination that I find necessary is what we have come to call the'discernment of spirits.lung's theological A.mbiguities, and thealternative interpretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic ofgrace and of sin, of the Standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation.6 But one will also meet much.that is not God, and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in one's psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion'that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriti-cized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic pi'oportions. Christian Spiritual Transformation As Self-Transcendence ~ ' There are many diverse and quite useful approaches to the understand-ifig'of spiritual transformation. I have chosen to focus on two terms that have been developed by Bernard Lonergan. Lonergan's thought has achieved a great deal of notoriety due principally, it would seem, to its difficulty. I have no intention here of repeating the subtle intricacies of his full argumentation. I will rather present in what I hope are quite under-standable tdrms (he results of that argumentation, and will deal with more 5Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), Chapters Ten and Eleven. 6David Burrell, Exercises in Religious Understanding (South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press, 1974), p. 221. 500 /ReviewforReligious, Volume 38, 1979/4 subtle points only to the extent that they are necessary to clarify my basic position.7 I choose Lonergan's approach to the issue of Christian spiritual trans-formation for several reasons. First, it is the approach with which I am most familiar and the one that 1 personally have found most helpful. Secondly, Lonergan explicitly takes his stand in human interiority. And, when we are talking about either spiritual transformation or Jungian psychology, we are talking about the realm of interior experience, about the data of conscious-ness, about such events as insights, judgments, decisions, and, as we will see, dreams. All of these happenings are items that we experience. But we experience them interiorly. None of us has ever seen an insight or a feeling. But I trust, too, that none of us would claim that he or she had never experienced a feeling or an insight, never judged that some proposition was true or false, never made a decision. Moreover, I hope that we all know the experience of wanting to understand, wanting to be reasonable in our judgments, wanting to be responsible in our decisions. For it is in the realm of that desire, and in being faithful to that desire, that Lonergan locates what it is to be an authentic human person. But our experience of these events and of this desire occurs, not in the realm of outer sense, but in the domain of human interiority. It is in interiority that, through these events of understanding, judging, and deciding, we "process" reality. Sensations come in; language goes out; but between sensations and language there is, as Lonergan has formulated it in some recent lectures, the mysterious "little black box" of our interiority. The workings of that little black box are the domain that we concentrate upon in Christian spiritual theology, in Jungian p§ychoiogy, and in any attempt such as the present one that would relate spirituality to psychology. I should mention, in addition, two other advantages that accrue from employing Lonergan's framework for understanding interiority? First, his stress, as I have already indicated, is on human desire, and desire is the area of our being that is illuminated by the explorations also of the great depth ps~ychologists, including Jung, Secondly, and most importantly, Lonergan emphasizes that spiritual development is not something that oc-curs in some realm that is isolated from the insights that we have into the events of our everyday life, from the judgments that we make as to the truth or falsity of the most mundane propositions, from the anxieties we feel and the decisions that we make regarding our orientation and actions as beings-in- the-world. God's saving purpose is a will to save the world itself, to redeem the time of our lives, as Eliot would put it. It is not a dimension of 7There are, of course, dangers in such a procedure, for the reader can easily take the results of Lonergan's explorations as a series of concepts that could dispense one from the task of insight into oneself. There are no short-cuts to the self-appropriation to which Lonergan invites one. But precisely because there are no short-cuts, I can only ask the reader interested in pursuing the process to go to Lonergan's works themselves. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: reality that is totally extrinsic from the events of understanding, judging, and deciding, that we experience every day. On the other hand, our relation to God is not to be collapsed into a secularistic denial of the supernatural character of grace. Rather, grace is offered in its supernatural character within the events of our everyday lives. So the perspective offered by Lonergan is neither a fundamentalism or extrinsicism that denies the this-worldly character of our lives, nor a secularism or immanentism that ne-glects the absolutely transcendent origin and finality of the relationship to the divine in which we stand at every moment of our lives. What, then, is Christian spiritual development? Lonergan's treatment of this question is provided at the end of a lengthy analysis of human cognitional and moral development that concludes with the realization that the flowering of human potential, the sustained development of the human person, the solution of such social ills as injustice, alienation, and the dominance of totalitarian aspirations in both~the West and East today, are impossible on the basis of human resources alone. We are confronted with a problem of evil in our development as human persons and in the social organization of human affairs. This problem is rooted in our very constitu-tion as human subjects, in our finitude, in the tension between our always limited possibilities and our aspirations to transcend these limitations. I will not go into the intricacies of Lonergan's analysis of the roots of moral impotence. Suffice it to say that he argues persuasively that we are faced with a problem of evil that we are powerless to resolve. If there is going to be a solution to the problem of evil, it must come in the form of redemption. Either there is a divinely originated solution to the problem of evil, or there is no solution at all. If God exists, if God knows of our plight, and if God is good, then there is a divinely originated solution that is offered to our freedom, one that we can accept or reject, and that, if we accept it, will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and moral development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowledge and our freedom as agift. And, if we accept it, it transvalues our values, and provides a new context for Our knowing~ a new atmosphere or environment that enables us to be truly intelligent in our questioning and genuinely reasonable in our judg-ments. This new context is faith, which Lonergan defines as "the eye of love," the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as unconditionally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone.8 8See Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (paperback edition, New York: Harper and Row, 1978), Chapters Eighteen and Twenty; Method in Theology, Chapter Four. 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 The divine solution to the problem of evil, then, is God's gift of his love that is poured forth into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.~ Our desire for this love is a natural desire: with Thomas Aquinas, Lonergan insists that we have a natural desire for the vision and love of God.t0 He insists, too, that our subjectivity is mutilated or abolished, unless we are stretching forth towards God: There lies within [our] horizon a region for the divine, a shrine for ultimate holiness. It cannot be ignored. The atheist may pronounce it empty. The agnostic may urge that he finds his investigation has been inconclusive. The contemporary humanist will refuse to allow the question [of God] to arise. But their negations presuppose the spark in our clod, our native orientation to the divine." , Being in love with God, then, is for Lonergan the basic fulfilment of the deepest human desire, that desire that he calls "conscious intentionality." That fulfillment brings a deep-set joy that can remain despite humiliation, failure, privation, pain, betrayal, desertion. That fulfillment brings a radical peace, the peace that the world cannot give. That fulfillment bears fruit in a love of one's neighbor that strives mightily to bring about the kingdom of God on this earth. On the other hand, the absence of that fulfillment opens the way to the trivialization of human life in the pur.suit of fun. to the harshness of human life arising from the ruthless exercise of o, power, to despair about human welfare spnnging from the conviction that the universe is absurd.~ God's love is offered to all men and women at every time and place. This universality of God's self-communication (a notion that he has in common with Karl Rahner) Lonergan speaks of in terms of God's inner word, the word that God speaks in the solitude of our hearts, drawing us to himself. But this love is also embodied, incarnate, revealed for all to see, in the outer word of the life, preaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus.~.'~ "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, shall draw all men to myself.''~4 The disciples of Jesus through the centuries constitute that community whose task it will.~ be until the end of time to give explicit witness in external words and deeds to the offer of divine love as the only resolution oLthe otherwise hopeless human dilemma of personal incapacity to grow, of social injustice and alienation. As another superb contemporary thinker. Eric Voegelin, has labored for thirty years to argue, no social order that is not permeated with the love of the unseen measure that Christians call God can be just or humanly fulfilling.~5 In language current among those who have followed 9Rm 5:5. ~°See Lonergan. "The Natural Desire to See God." in Collection: Papers by Bernard Loner-gan (New York: Herder and Herder. 1967), pp. 84-95. t~Lonergan. Method in Theology, p. 103. ~21bid. p. 105. talbid., pp. 112-115. t4jn 12:32. ~sSee Eric Voegelin, Order and History, four volumes to date (Louisiana State University Press, 1956-1974). Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: l / 503 recent deliberations Within the Church, faith and justice are inextricably linked in the mission of the disciples of Jesus in the world.16 Christian spiritual transformation, in this context, is thus a matter, first~ of a process of conversion that involves a growing intimacy with the source and fountain of redemptive love, an intimacy that takes the form of being evermore patterned after the example of Christ; and, second, of a growing commitment and ability to participate in the mission of Christ, which is also the mission of that community.whose task it is tb render explicit to the whole world the fact that,.in Jesus the Christ, God has definitively revealed the saving action that he is always working in the world. To be in love with God is also to be sent by God. To grow in the love of God is also to grow in participation in the mission--the saving and revealing mission---of Jesus. Christian spiritual growth thus involves a number of elements: a) One comes to a developing familiarity with God, so that one is able ever more readily and ever more easily to find him and to participate with him in his redemptive work after the pattern of Christ, the suffering servant of God. b) One grows in the ability to discern precisely what it is that God wants of oneself and of one's community, and in the willingness to do what it is that God asks, confident that what one is doing is not one's own work but God's. c) Summing up all of what this development involves, one grows~in self-transcendence. This is the first key term that I take from Lonergan. One grows in self-transcendence, until, in the saint, there is reached a point of the union of one's own understanding, reason, and desire with the knowl-edge and love of God, a union that can only be broadened and heightened, deepened and enriched, but not gone beyond; and a point of self-abnegation and humility that rejoices in sharing the lot of the poor, despised, and humiliated Son of God himself, in his mission of establishing the kingdom of God on earth. Christian spiritual transformation is a matter of continual conversion to self-transcendence, within the community of the disciples of the Lord that is the Church, until there is reached the point where one's understanding, one's judgments of fact and of value, one's desires, and one's choices, while not ceasing to be one's own, are a participation in the understanding, the judgments, the desires, the choices of God himself, working in and through oneself and one's community, to continue and to spread the redemption of the world that only God can effect. If, then, we are talking about Christian spiritual development as a trans-formation of our insights, our judgments, our desires, and our choices, we ~6See the document of the 1971 Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World. See also the Docu~- merits of the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, and especially Decree 4, "Our Mission Today." 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 are speaking of it as fundamentally a transformation of our interiority, of our basic horizon. The difference that God's solution to the problem of evil makes in the social world, in the world of economics and politics, in the world of institutions and organizations, is a function of the difference it makes in persons, in the unity of personal consciousness, in people's vision and choices. Christian spiritual development, considered most radically; is a transformation of one's understanding and of ~)ne's willingness, so that these two are brought into harmony and cooperation with God's redemp-tive purpose in Christ Jesus and through the community of his disciples. The transformation, once again, is in the direction of self-transcendence, so that, by accepting God'.s offer of both salvation and vocation, one becomes ever more God-centered and Christ-centered in one's apprehensions of value and in one's decisions, in one's pursuit of meaning and truth, and in one's affective engagement with other persons in the dramatic situations that constitute the stuff, the setting, the stage, of one's own personal story and of history itself. Christian Spiritual Transformation as Self-Appropriation Now, besides serf-transcendence, there is another term that Lonergan uses when he speaks of development. That term is self-appropriation. Self-appropriation is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding. One can bE quite self-transcendent, quite loving and generous, quite genuine in one's relations with others, quite sincere about wanting to understand things correctly, without being very adept at intri-cate and precise self-knowledge.~ One can be, in Lonergan's terms, quite religiously and morally converted without being intellectually converted. 18 Intellectual conversion is a matter of knowing precisely what one is doing when one is pursuing understanding, reaching for truth, trying to decide in responsible fashion. Many people genuinely try to understand, and succeed in doing so, without being able to say precisely what they are doing when they understand, .how their insights are related to their sensations, their questions, their beliefs, their .images, their concepts, their feelings. One can also be quite religiously and morally converted without being what I have called "psychically converted.''~ Psychic conversion is a matter of know-ing what one is feeling, of being able to tell one's story, and to tell it as it is. One,can have a quite genuine and even beautiful life of feeling without being able to tell what he or she is feeling, how this feeling is related .to that, how both feelings are related to the objects they intend, how one's feelings 17See Lonergan, Insight, p. 475. 18On intellectual conversion as self-appropriation, see Lonergan, Method in Theo!ogy, pp. 238-240. ~gSee Robert Doran, Subject and Psyche: Ricoeur, Jung, and the Search for Foundations (Washington, D. C.: University Press of Ainerica. 1977), especially pp. 240-246~ Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 51)5 are related to one's images and symbols, to one's questions and insights, to one's beliefs and ideas. In other words, one can have a quite profound and genuinely self-transcendent interiority without being able to articulate one's inner life with any notable clarity and precision. We all know wonderful and holy people who are quite unsophisticated when it comes to self-knowl-edge, or who will put their self-knowledge in very common sense terms-- people who make at times heroic decisions, but who, when asked why they made this or that decision, or what went on in their minds and hearts which led them so to decide, can answer only, "I don't know; it just seemed to be the right thing to do." Such genuine self-transcendence without self-appropriation is by no means to be disparaged. It is the condition of most good and holy men and women down through the ages, the source of most that is good in human history. But there are factors at work, especially in our age, that seem to indicate that self-appropriatiot~, in addition to self-transcendence, is becom-ing ever more necessary if one wishes to choose responsibly, to judge reasonably, to inquire intelligently, or just if one wishes to know what God wants and does not want. Perhaps there was a time when common sense wisdom and homespun practicality were enough for most people. Perhaps, too, there was a time when the only addition to common sense that some people needed was a good dose of theoretical understanding that was basically in harmony with the Gospel. But there are a number of indications that would seem to argue persuasively that we are now living in a world where self-transcendence, backed up by a common sense framework, or even by a cogent and brilliant theory, is simpl~, not enough; where religious and moral conversion must be complemented by intellectual and psychic conversion; where self-transcendence must be aided and helped, complemented and augmented, by self-appropriation, by precise and even technical self-knowledge, by an ability to articulate just what is going on in one's "little black box." If this be the case, then spiritual transformation today is a matter not only of growing self-transcendence, but also of ever more precise and technical self-knowledge. What are some of the indications that would back up this conviction that I share with Lonergan? Let me talk first about the insufficiency of common sense, and then about the ambiguity of theory. And let me do so within the context of the Church's recent pronounced recognition that the promotion of justice is a constitutive element in the preaching of the Gospel. The paper that issued from the 1971 Synod of Bishops, "Justice in the World," and the statement of Pope Paul VI, Octagesima Adveniens, mark the beginnings, I believe, of a substantial leap forward in the Church's social, political, and economic insight and praxis. One of the few public statements that Pope John Paul I had a chance to make was to the effect that we need a new and worldwide economic order. The achievement of that 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 order, I believe, is going to demand that we take our stand, and that we enable others to take their stand, not on practical common sense, and not on theory, but on the self-appropriation of our interiority and especially of our orientation to value. Why do I say this? Well, let us treat common sense first, however briefly. One of the cha~'acteristics of practica.I common se.nse is that it not only is incapable of.treating complex, long-range, and ultimate issues and results, but also that it resentfully brushes aside and ignores any attempts to raise questions that are concerned with such issues. It has the world's work to do. and it cannot be bothered by questions that would take time away from doing that work.z° The person exclusively operating from prac-tical common sense is concerned only with "getting the job don~i." Every-thing else mo.tivation, rationale, social organization, interpersonal communication--is oriented to that end. The question of whether the jo.b is worth doing at all. or whether the most expedient way of. doing it is also the most authentic way, is,a bother, yes, but more than that: it is a threat, a subversive question t, hat could overturn the ~ntire project. Rejection pre-cisely of such kinds of questions is what is responsible for the fact that our objective world-situation today can be characterized in terms of opposed totalitarianisms: the totalitarianism of the multinational corporation, pred-icated on the assumption of the need of automatic progress and expansion; and the totalitarianism of the communist state, rooted in the assumption that class conflict can bring the social o, rder into harmony with what is right.2~ Both myths neglect the fact that there are religious, personal, and cultural values that must be pursued in an integral fashion if there is to be a just social order that really provides for the basic needs of all the mem-bers of a society. In both systems, however much theory may. be involved in their establishment, we see operative the bias of practical common sense against the kinds of questions that must be asked if the job is to be done, not only expediently, but also humanely, genuinely, authetically. The ques-tion of integrity is. not just overlooked, but actively repudiated and re-pressed. _ Nor is theory sufficient to reestablish the significance of that question. For there are theories that support the question, but there are other theories that discredit it. The theories of B. F. Skinner or of orthdox Freudian psychoanalysis are just as coherent, just as thorough, just as all-encom-passing, and, for many,just as convincing, as are the theories of a Christian philosophy and theology. The Church's reliance on theory as the ground of praxis arose in the Middle Ages, more specifically with scholastic philosophy. One of the interesting things about that period, though, is that there were not many ~°See Lonergan, Insight, pp. 225-242. ~lbid. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: theories from.which to choose, and there was not all that much to be learned in order to piece together a convincing theory. Even the disputes in the world of.theory did not touch, as they do today, on the really basic issues, such as the existence of God, the fact of revelation, the ethical end of the human person, the value of a virtuous life, and so on. Right down into the Renaissance, there was so little to be learned that it was possible for one person to be at once an artist, a natural scientist, and a man of practical affairs and we have Leonardo da Vinci to prove it. The need for specialization to master one tiny dimension of reality is a distinctly modern phenomenon. And while one is spending most of one's time specializing in one's own area, one's contemporaries are adding theory upon theory in their specialized domains. And these theories sometimes contradict one another on the most fundamental issues, on issues that every developing adult must confront. But how is one to take a stand, if one has to devote all of one's energies to his specialization? There are issues on which we must judge and on which we must decide if we are to live a human life. Yet there is simply too much to be learned before we can judge and decide.22 Unless we find a ground beyond theory--for it will not do just to fall back on common sense--our situation becomes one of hopeless relativism. It is my contention that this ground-beyond-theorydies in the self-appropriation of human interiority. This point about the need for,a quite technical self-appropriation can be developed at great length; we do not have space to do that here. The point I wish to make in the present context ,is that only through such self-appropriation can one discover the precise relation that obtains between re,!igio~us, personal, and cultural values on the one hand, and the social value of a just economic and political order on the other hand. And one needs to discover these relations, not simply in the abstract, as through some theory of value ,"but in the concrete order in which one is called upon to judge, to decide, and to act. And so I return to my general statement: Christian spiritual transformation is a matter of self-transcendence that, at a certain point, calls fo'r a movement to self-appropriation. Christian spiritual development is a matter of ongoing cbnversion, and ongoing con-version means today not only religious and moral, but also intellectual and p~sychic conversion. The Levels of Consciousness There are five levels of operations that one discovers when one enters upon the project of the self-appropriation of interiority.2"~ Inner and outer sensations, memories, andimages constitute the level of empirical presen- 22Lonergan, "Dimensions of Meaning," in Collection, pp. 252-267. 23On the levels of consciousness, see Lonergan, Method in Theology, Chapters One and Four. Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 tations. These empirical presentations are organized by understanding, which is a second level of consciousness. For example, if you are reading without any understanding of what I am saying, you are operating at the first, empirical level of operations. If you are reading and understanding what I am saying, your understanding is organizing the empirical presenta-tions into some kind of intelligible whole. You are processing what you hear by the operations that go on in your "little black box." You are operating not only at the first, but also at the second level of o~perations. If, moreover, you not only understand what I am saying but are also trying to judge whether it is correct or not, you have added a third level of operations, where we either assent to, or disagree with, something we have understood. These three levels of operations are what make us to be human knowers. Lonergan calls these levels experience, understanding, and judgment. But we are not just'knowers. There are times in our lives when, after we have made a judgment, "This is t~rue," a further question arises, "What am I going to do about it?" Then we have to decide. And decision constitutes a fourth level of operations. Finally, there is another whole dimension of interior reality that is not dealt with by speaking of the empirical, intelligent, rational, and decisional levels of consciousness. There is a fifth level of consciousness that is a matter of being addressed by and in relation to God. There is the experience of mystery. There is the reality of falling in love with God. There is prayer, worship, mystical experience, the dark night of the soul, the living flame of love, the search for and discovery of the holy, the gift of the divinely originated solution to the problem of evil. Religious self-appropriation, obviously, is a matter of articulating what is going on at that fifth level of consciousness. The means of discovering oneself in one's relation to God are many: there are spiritual direction, retreats, various methods of keeping a journal, and so on. But what is important for us also to appr6priate is the manner in which experience at that fifth level of consciousness has an effect on other levels. The influence of God's grace moves downward in our consciousness. It changes our values (fourth level), so that it provides us with entirely new orientations for our decisions, and enables them to be more self-transcendent. It changes our view of the world, our vision, the way we understand and judge things (second and third levels), and provides us with a determination to under-stand thoroughly and to judge reasonably; and it brings about a harmony and peace at the level of inner sensation, a peace that "the world cannot give," so that our inner being and our bodies rest securely in the love of God. Symbols, Feelings, and Drama Such is the pattern of interiority that is discovered when one enters upon the way of self-appropriation: five levels of consciousness, each related to Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 509 the other, whether we move from~below upwards, or from above down-wards. And now, finally, we are able to locate with precision the region where Jung's discoveries become significant for spiritual development, especially for self-appropriation. For all of the operations that we are talking about--sensing, imaging, remembering (first level), inquiring, understand-ing, putting our understanding into words (second level), reflecting, weigh-ing the evidence, judging (third level), deliberating, deciding, acting (fourth level), praying, worshiping (fifthlevel)--all of these operations are per-meated by feelings. We have feelings about the objects of all of these operations. The operations themselves are always dramatic. When you try to understand, it is because you are confused. When you succeed in un-derstanding, the confusion ceases and you experience satisfaction, maybe even excitement. When you want to know whether you understand cor-rectly, it is because you are not satisfied with just a set of bright ideas; you want to get things right and not just go about spouting opinions. When you have to make a decision, the drama of the situation stands out clearly. Some decisions can be agonizing. All decisions have a great deal of affectivity accompanying them, for we are dealing in decisions with questions of value. And value is something we feel before ever we judge about it or act on it.z4 Finally, fifth-level religious experience has those peculiar sets of feelings that we call "consolations" and "desolations." In sum, we are not just structured conscious operators. We are~also the subjects of a drama, pre-cisely in and through these operations. There is a story to our operating, because there are feelings that permeate all of those operations. Let us focus a bit more on this drama, because it is more complicated than I have so far indicated. In addition to the desire to understand, there is also aflight from understanding (second level). I can flee insight just as passionately as I can pursue it. Moreover, I can resist the truth just as strongly as I can intend it (third level). I can try to escape responsible decision and live a life of ease or of drifting or of hiding my talents, just as persistently as I can conscientiously examine every situation to find the best course of action (fourth level). I can flee contact with God just as passion-ately as I can seek to find him and do his will (fifth level). ~ There are feelings that permeate not only genuine performance at each of the five levels, but also inauthentic actions at each step of the way. The ultimate drama of my life, in fact, is this drama of authenticity and inau-thenticity. The authentic person is the person who pursues understanding, who seeks truth, who responds to what is. really worthwhile, and who searches for God and his will. The inauthentic person is the person who flees understanding, who runs fi:om the truth, who resists further questions 241bid., pp. 31-33. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 about his or her decisions, and who tries to escape God. And those feelings never go away. They are present in the entire drama. They are precisely what make it so dramatic. What. then. are feelings? Feelings are energy-become-conscious. Feel-ings are a~matter of psychic energy. Feelings are the basic sensitive compo-nent of every human operation. Feelings make of spirituality a story. To know one's feeling is to begin to tell one's own story. Feelings are the drive and momentum of the life of the human spirit. Feelings join the spirit to the body in a conscious unity. There is one further aspect to this matter. Feelings always enter con-sciousness through being connected with some representation. Now, the, most basic form of representation lies in symbols. A symbol, Lonergan says, is an image of a real or imaginary object that evokes a feeling or is evoked by a feelingZS; what this means is that there is never a feeling without a symbolic meaning; never a symbol without a feeling. To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's story is tomarrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that. in waking life, can lead us to distort our story? The place of elemental symbolizing is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "story" going forward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so.z6 If we want to know our -story" the story of insight, the story of judgment, the story of decision, and the story of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that story. It affects us deeply once it has occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our.seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. In the next article I will situate Jung's psychology of individuation within this context of the discussion of self-transcendence, and, especially, of self-appropriation. In the third article, though, I will use this same frame-work to criticize .lung's psychology. For Jung did not have an accurate understanding of the structure of our operations as human subjects~ur understanding, our judgments, our decisions, and our search for God. His basic philosophical and theological standpoint did not take its stand on a notion of authenticity as self-transcendence. And this basic flaw renders his contributions to Christian spiritual .development very ambiguous until these contributions are transposed into some such context as I have tried to indicate in the present article. 251bid., p. 64. 26See Doran, "Dramatic Artistry in the Third Stage of Meaning," forthcoming in Lonergan Workshop 11, edited by Frederick Lawrence (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1979). "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond"-- Reflections on Death and Resurrection John Renard, S.J. Father Renard is on the faculty of St. Louis,University. A previous article of Father Renard was entitled "Islamic Spirituality" which appeared in the November, 1978 issue. With:the bitter:sweet clarity that came to him in his illness, ~ohn Donne wrote, "Therefore that He may raise, the Lord throws down.''~ The poet expresse_s a wisidom most of us would rather flee than surrender to; bui our flight from mortality is not always and necessarily a flight toward immortal-ity. Ernest Becket explains the dynamic of the "Jonah Syndrome" by saying that the fear of life often menaces human beings as relentlessly as the fear of death. The "Jonah Syndrome" involves escape from both the apex and the nadir of human potential. It issues in a frantic sear.ch for control of one's destiny to the smallest detail; it deems abstinence from the heights of ecstasy a fair price to pay 'for a shorter fall; it shuns the awesome lest it happen upon the terrible,z Both extremes of the fear ~eem to be rooted in a dread of extinction, whether as annihilation wrought by weakness confronting the ultimate ~This and all other selections of poetry quoted in this paper may be found in the.Norton Anthology of Poetry ('Revised, New York, 1975). "Hymn to God My God, in My Sickness," p. 251. 2Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (New York, 1973). Term coined by Abraham Maslow; pp. 48 ft. 511 512 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 power, or as humiliation wrought by shame in the face of the ultimate glory. I would like to explore both of these aspects of the "Jonah Syndrome." First we will look at the extreme that presents itself more immediately, and which is a more readily recognizable feature of human experience. In that context we will talk of two preeminent characteristics of the experience of Weakness, Shame, and Mortality. Then we will turn to the experience of power, glory, and immortality. In both instances our guideg will be the struggle of great poets to comprehend, the insight of Paul into the incompre-hensible, and the example of Jesus' surrender to the "impossibility" of a life lived across the full spectrum, from being to nothingness and back. Weakness, Shame, and Mortality At the beginning of his chapter on "The Terror of Death," Ernest Becket quotes Sigmund Freud: Is it not for us to confess that in our civilized attitude towards death we are once more living psychologically beyond your means, and must reform and give truth its due? Would it not be better to give death the place in actuality and in our thoughts which properly belongs to it, and to yield a little more prominence to that unconscious attitude towards death which we have hitherto so carefully suppressed? This hardly seems indeed a greater achievement, but rather a backward step., but it has the merit of taking somewhat more into accou.nt the true state of affairs,a Two factors seem most to contribute to a sense of impotence and of the inability to achieve quite enough in one lifespan--and hence to the half-wish for immortality. They are, first, the feeling of time's inexorability, and, second, the conviction that to make a lasting name for myself I must make it for me alone, me the autonomous, me the independent. These twin cliffs of mortality both spell weakness and shame, for the sheer faces of time and of di~sire for self-fulfilment cannot b~ scaled head-on. Nevertheless, the summit is not entirely unattainable. It merely requires the acceptance of "time" and the rejection of encapsulation in oneself. John Donne writes in his "S.atire on Religion:" He's not of none, nor worst, that seeks the best, To 'adore, or scorn an image, or protest, May be all bad; doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is. On a huge hill, Craggrd and steep, Truth stands, and he that will Reach her, about must, and about must go, Ahd what th' hill's suddenness resists win so; Yet strive so, that before age, death's twilight, thy soul rest, for none can work in that night. Hard deeds, the body's pains; hard knowledge, too "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 513 The mind's endeavors reach, and mysteries Are like the sun, dazzling, yet plain to all eyes.4 The poet does not advocate pretending the mountain does not exist, nor does he counsel over-confidence as to its vincibility. He does suggest that the most important of attainments are precisely not those which can be attained, but rather those which are allowed to be apparent. It is a question of not denying the obvious, but' also of not taking the obvious for granted. Donne suggests further that mysteries are the very stuff of this life: one had best confront them now, for they set at death's twilight. Time itself is not the poet's nemesis here; the prospect of an untimely death is. As we shall see in the second section of this paper, John Donne found a solution to the problem of time's "unperturbed pace," in his hope of resurrection. As other poets attest, however, not everyone escapes the conviction that time is a vacuum. ,' The Emptiness of Time Many a great poet has written of the vain struggle to deny the marauding burglar of time access to his house. Scarcely a Shakespearean sonne~ but talks of Time's "fell hand," and his "bending sickle's compass," and of the "best jewel from Time's chest., hid." Time is "sluttish,'~ "wasted," "balmy.''5 The young John Milton reflected, "How soon. hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year!" Time was for him, along with the will of heaven, his guide toward his mortal end.6 John Keats, also twenty-three, wrote in a similar vein of his fears that he might "cease to be before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain." His fearful reflections led him to stand alone on the shore of the wide world till Love and Fame sank to nothingness in the face of Time's inevitability.~ At twenty-seven, W. B. Yeats wrote "The Lamentation of the Old Pen-sioner." The aged and discarded man sits sheltered from the rain under a tree and reminisces about how he had once held the center ~f attention in fireside chats "Of love or politics, ere time transfigured me." Though young men once more prepare for combat, the pensioner's "contemplations are of Time thht has transfigured me." Though no woman now turns to look upon him, 'he summons up remembrances of loves past and concludes, "I spit in the face of Time that has transfigured me.''s In his magnificent "Fern Hill," the thirty-two year old Dylan Thomas wrote of his heedless youth when: Nothing i cared, in the lamb-wfiite days, that time would take me Up to the swallow throng.ed loft by the shadow of my hand, 'tNAP p. 246. 5Sonnets 64, 116, 65, 55, 106, 107, NAP pp. 212 ft. SNAP p. 323 rNAP p. 700 SNAP p. 918 514 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979 / 4 In the moon that is always rising, Nor that riding to sleep I should hear him (Time) fly with the high fie!ds And Wake to the farm forever fled from the childless 'land~ Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though 1 sang in my chains like the sea) ,~ Thomas compressed an entire lifetime into the image of a day, born with the birth of the sun and dying forever under an ever-rising moon. Time was his master: the poet both knew it too,well and, denied it. He was green, but dying; fettered, but singing as though free as the sea. ~ The Fullness of Time Jesus, too/was keenly aware_through his life of the. imminence of an auspicious, even ominous, hour. John's Gospel portrays Jesus early in his public ministry as conscious that hishour would come soon, but had not yet (Jn 7:6 and 30). His later recognition that "the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" occurs at.the theological, literary, and even geo-graphical center of John's Gospel (Jn 12:23). It is preceded immediately by. the raising of Lazarus and Mary's anointing of Jesus for burial, .and it is followed immediately by the analogy of the grain of wheat that ~must die. in order to give life. In the Synoptics, too, this crucial hour's striking marks the turning point in Jesus~ life, the fullness of his time. In the Synoptics, however, the theological, literary, and geographical pivot is signalled by Peter',s confession.of Jesus as the Christ and Jesus' decisive reorientation for the journey to Jerusalem (Mr 16:13if; Mk 8:27ff;, Lk 9:18ff). Mark, Matthew, and Luke indicate that it is Peter who is troubled, most of all, by Jesus' prediction of his death, and who tries to dissuade Jesus from his intended course. John, on the other hand, more insistent than the SynOptics on Jesus' awareness of his "tim~ and hour," emphasizes Jesus' own anguish that his time has now come: "Now is-my soul troubled. And what shall Isay? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, for this purpose I have come.to this hour's' (Jn .12:27). It is an hour of glor.y, but not for Jesus "personally." It is the hour in which his Father's name will be glorifie~l again (Jn 12:28), At this juncture we turn to the second factor that .makes human mortality seem so impotent and dishon6rable--the forever frus-trated yet die-hard desire to make a name for oneself alone. Making a Name: The Delusion of Self-Proclaimed Glory Several years ago a cartoon in a national magazine depicted a handsome young couple in togas seated in an idyllic lakeside glen. The young man gazes into the mirror-smooth lake, and the lady asks, "Is there., someone else, Narcissus? . Everyone," notes Ernest Becket, "enjoys a working aNAP pp. 1166-7 "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 515 amount of basic narcissism,"~° which amounts to a drive for self-protection and self-creation. The more that drive becomes the central life project, however, the moreoenslaving and suicidal it becomes. Chapter two of the Letter to the Philippians is the New Testament's most remarkable.state-ment of Jesus' surrender of his own name for the glorification of his Father's name.~::'He did not count equality with God a'thing to be grasped., but emptied~ ~himself, taking the form of a slave being born in human likeness. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, death on a cross': (Ph 2:6-8). By "becoming sin who kflew no sin" (2 Co 5:21), Jesus engaged in the ultimate ec-stasy. He rejected the Godly power which alone is immune to the need for striving, in favor of human weakness with its constant struggle for freedom. He rejected the Godly glory which alone is~truly autonomous and peerless, in favor of the shame of common slavery. Power and glory in God are Godly; in human~beings they are merely the produc't of self-aggrandizing,, narcissistic wishfulness. Power and glory in God are His awesomeness and attractiveness; in human beings~they are a pathetic grasp-ing after invulnerability and control, needlessness and Unrelatedness, free-dom from risk.~ That, in the. words of Shakespeare, amounts to "Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame. . lust in action. In his choice of slavery and emptiness Jesus had even to divest himself of the faintest hope that it would all' have world-redeeming consequences. He had to abandon himself unreservedly to the powerlessness and anonym-ity of the human condition. The colossal irony of his surrender is that, because Jesus forsook his, own name and status, "God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that atthe name of Jesus,every knee should bend., and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (Ph 2:9-11). A classic of Chinese tradition called the Tao te Ching spe.aks simply and insightfully of the nature of this paradox: Reality is all-embracing. To be all-embracing is to be self-less. To be self-less is to be all-pervading. To be all-pervading is to be transcendent.~3 Paul elucidates further~ the'implications ~of Christ's self-lessness ~or us. Thb',~ib~e~'ness of self-~areservation must "yield to the folly' of the Cross, "For~tlie. fo61ishness~ of God is wiser than humankind, and the Weakness of l°op. cit., p. 22 ~For further excellent discussion of power and autonomy, see John Dunne's The Way'of All the Earth (New York, 1972), pp. 4-26. ~aSonnet 129, NAP 216 ~aChang Chung-yuan, Tao: A New Way of Thinking (New York, 1975), p. 42. 51!5 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 God is stronger than humankind." Self-proclaimed power and glory must yield to a confession of "shame and confession," as in the meditations on sin in St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises, for "God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are" (1 Co .1 and 2, quoting 1:25, 27). Jesus' own acquiescence in the arrival of his "hour" and his preference for namelessness led him to the folly of the Cross, that our "faith might rest not in human wisdom, but in the power of God" (1 Co 2:5). And all the heavenly host shouted: "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and giory.~. And the four living creatures said, 'Amen'" (Rv 5:12, 14). Power, Glory and Immortality If reflection on the ravages of time and change is a common theme in the great poets, musing on what may lie beyond death are no less prominent. "Death once dead," says the Bard, there's no more dying then.''14 Shake-spearc's is a rather cold resignation in that poem. A more hopeful note is heard in Wordsworth's "Intimations of Immortality": 0 Joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive.15 Another facet of "nature's memory" is the subject of "The Root Cellar'" by the twentieth-century poet Theodore Roethke. Observing nature's stubborn refusal to become extinct, he tells of how in a lowly earthen dungeon all things strain after survival. In that cellar "Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath."16 In "The Far Field," Roethke writes of how "All finite things reveal infinitude." I am renewed by death, thought of my death, The dry scent of a.dying garden in September, The wind fanning the ash of a low fire. What I love is near at hand, Always, in earth and air.1~ The same W. B. Yeats who had written about the Pensioner who spat in the face of Time, later wrote a play called The Resurrection. The p~lay climaxes with a song about the demise of the ancient rites at~the appearance of the Risen Christ who now stands on the stage. The song is a different kind of reflection on how the passing of time exhausts human power and glory to make way for Christ's power and glory: t4Sonnet 146, NAP :p. 217 ~SNAP p. 603 ~6NAP p. 1131 ~TNAP p. 1138-9 "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 517 Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day.: Love's pleasure drives his love away. The painter's brush consumes his dreams; The herald's cry, the soldier's tread Exhaust his glory and his might: Whatever flames upon the night Man's own resinous heart has fed.Is Few poets have prayed in our tongue more fervently than John Donne. In the"Holy Sonnets" Donne vacillates between terror in the face of death and the hope that death will lose its sting and concede victory to the Resurrection. "Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?" he asks his Lord.~° Ever awareof his need to ask forgiveness, the poet exhorts the angels to trumpet into resurrection all mortal humanity "At the round earth's imagined corners.''2° Donne then becomes a seventeenth century Paul in one of his best known sonnets: Death, be not proud, though some have call6d thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so; For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee dO go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. Thou 'art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy' or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swellst thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally ' And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.2~ For the original Paul, all that the poe.ts have hinted at, pined for, groped after, and, perhaps, found, is embodied in Christ as image of the invisible God. Christ "reflects the glory of God" and "sustains the universe by his word of power" (Heb 1:3). By that word we are "strengthened with all power, according to the glory of his might" (Col l:l l). The "small breath" of the earth in Roethke's "Root Cellar" is the treasure we carry "in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us." We carry in our bodies "the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in oOr bodies" (2 Co 4:7, 10-11). Our universal experience of being "thrown down" in the wasting of our outer nature can-not quench'Wordsworth's "embers" of renewal in our inner nature (2 Co 4:16). It is merely a thorn in the flesh, a reminder that God's "power.is made ~SNAP pp. 927-8 19Sonnet I, NAP p. 248 2°Sonnet 7, NAP p. 249 ~Sonnet 10, NAP p. 250 51~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 perfect in weakness." For that reason Paul could happily boast of his weakness so that the power of Christ might rest on him (2 Co 12:9). The exultant herald's cry and the victorious soldier's tread exhaust their power and glory. Christ's defeat on the cross manifests his all the more, "For he was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God." As a result, Christ now deals with us not in weakness, butin power (2 Co 13:3-4). Paul therefore prays that he be able~ to accept his humanity and its impo-tence, in order to~ know Christ and the, power of his resurrection, which will "change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by,the power which enables him even to subject all things to himself" (Ph 3:8-H, 21). The Apostle prays for,us, too, that we might share in that power and glory and life. Speaking of his own suffering as the glory of the Ephesian Christians, Paul prays That acc6rding to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power interiorly through his Spirit. ; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend., the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, to him be glory . (Ep 3:13-21). Paul further clarifies the nature of the revivifying power of Christ's love as he describes the different degrees of glory proper to the various earthly and heavenly bodies. Using the same metaphor of sowing and growth suggested in Ephesians in the words "rooted in love," the author writes in 1 Co 15:42-3: "What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in shame, but raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, but raised in power." The full mystery and many-sided paradox of how weakness becomes power; shame glory, and mortality immortality is beautifully summed up in John Heni'y Newman's Parochial and Plain Sermon entitled "The Cross of Christ, the Measure of the World." Newman says that the Cross has brought together and made consistent all that seemed discordant and aimless. It has taught'us how to live, how to use this world, what to expect, what t~ desire, what to hope. It is the tone into which all the ~trains of this world's music are ultimately to be resolved.22 To resolve th~se discordant strains, Chris~ endu,red,every paradox. To teach us how to live with ambiguity and in~.security, Christ put mystery in place Qf what we would otherwise try to solve as a mind-teasing puzzle. To unburden us of the curse of the Law, Christ became accursed o~n the Tree. To obtain for us that which we most grasp at, Christ unhanded ~l~i. To transform our folly into wisdom, Christ became foolishness. To free us from sin, Christ became sin. To loose the bonds of our servitude, Christ became 22Parochial and Plain Sermons, London, 1875, Vol. 6, p. 85. ° ~ "Matchwood, Immortal.Diamond" / 519 a slave. To empower our impotence, Christ became weakness itself. To ransom us from bankruptcy, Christ became poverty. To glorify our dis-honor, Christ became shame. To fill our vacuum, Christ emptied himself. All of which prompted G. M. Hopkins to write in his poem, "That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the Comfort of the Resurrection": "In a flash, at a trumpet crash, ! am at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and this Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, is immortal diamond.''23 23NAP p. 905 Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality~for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image Frank X. Reitzel, C.R. Father Reitzel is a member of the Congregation of the Resurrection who has spent most of his active years in his priesthood teaching English literature at the high school, university and seminary levels. He has also done considerable work in counseling, spiritual direction and retreat work. Presently he is on a sabbatical leave doing research study at the Gregorian University in Rome. His address on leaving Rome will be: Resurrection College; Westmount Road North, Waterloo; Ontario, Canada N2L 3G7. Father Reitzel hopes that the present article will form the chapter of a projected book on the concept and image of the Temple as a means of prayer. Part I he Odyssey is most often mentioned as the classic example in literature of the use of thenliterary device or symbol of a journey within which to frame a story. It is important, however, to remember, that every journey has a goal or end to be attained. For Ulysses it was to return to his homeland and there to lay rightful claim to his kingdom, his queen and his home. The traditional name for such a story is epic. St. Luke's Greek cultural back-ground is sufficient evidence on which to base a presupposition that he was familiar with this story form of a journey ending in a kingdom reclaimed. Both his Gospel account and The Acts of the Apostles have epic qualities built on the basic image of a journey. The intention of this paper, however, is to focus attention on the goal of that journey, the Temple at Jerusalem, as Luke uses it in his Gospel in order to show that an awareness of this image can aid a reflective and prayerful reading of the text of the third gospel. The journey theme and the Temple image are equally evident in Acts; but I shall refer to these only in passing. 520 St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 521 The Journey It is now generally accepted that the journey theme is an important factor, in the literary structure of Luke's version of the story of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. In every epic the arena of the journey is vast, sweeping from one end of the known world to the other; for Jesus it really begins in heaven and ends there. The action that takes place on earth within the limits of time and space tells of his journey from Nazareth to Jerusalem. At Jerusalem is the focal point and goal of the journey, the Temple. By using principles of literary criticism we can discover that Luke has artistically placed his references to the Temple at significant places in his narrative. I suggest that the position of these references clearly and deliber-ately divides the text of the Gospel, for artistic and meditative purposes, into a five-part structure that is similar to that of classical epics and dramas. Paradise Lost, for example, is constructed in twelve books or movements in which the poet John Milton retells the tragic story of the loss of paradise by Adam and Eve. The number twelve, referring to the twelve months of the year, symbolizes a full-life span or a life's journey. In his second epic, Paradise Regained, Milton uses the more compressed five-movement structure to tell the story of.Christ's cosmic struggle with Satan. In every case the artist freely chooses what he considers to be the proper and fitting frame for his work or story. In order to enhance his retelling of the inspiring story of Jesus that had been-handed on to him Luke employs a similar five-part structure. Later, in his account of the beginnings of the Church, he describes the missionary journeys of Peter and Paul in a two-part structure similar to that of many modern dramas. Moreover, in both works Luke uses carefully placed refer-ences to the Temple at Jerusalem as a central image which unifies the structure and the story of the Gospel as Luke presents it to us. An aware-ness of this image and its function can aid us in using Luke's Gospel as a guide to prayer and a means of personal growth. Reliable Scripture scholarship has shown that the author of the third Gospel was a man of Greek birth and culture who wrote for a Greek Christian audience. Like Paul (arid like ourselves) Luke had not been a contemporary eye-witness of Jesus. He had learned and been inspired by the story of Jesus as he had received it from the apostolic eye-witnesses such as Peter. He wrote to Theophilus, to persons of similar culture and background, that is, to all those like Theophilus in the world. But if we are his audience why does he use the center of Jewish worship as one of his main images? The Temple Image Temples have played a pa.rt in almost every culture; but they differ in one significant feature from the Temple at Jerusalem. A temple for all 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 pagans (gentiles) was a holy place; it was the house of the gods. But for the Israelites, Yahweh, the One True God, actually manifested his presence in his chosen dwelling place on Mount Zion. The Israelites were prepared and they were often called upon to protest that belief with their lives. They did not just casually believe this--they knew that God dwelt in their midst. No matter where he might be, the devout Israelite could face east to the Temple and enter into prayerful communion.with his God; he could experience an immediate and personal realization of the presence of Yahweh. The ideal, of course, was to make the journey to Jerusalem and there actually present oneself to God, as he had. commanded: "Three times a year all your men-folk must present,themselves before the Lord Yahweh" (Ex 23:17)? Similar references to. this belief and practice in the Old Testament are numerous. The visions of many of the prophets took place in the Temple. It was there that Isaiah (Is 6) and Jeremiah. (Jr 1) w.ere commissioned by God to go forth on their prophetic journeys to .his people. The prophet Amos had condemned the unjust and unprayerful uses that some people made of the place of worship, emphasizing, thereby, that God',s presence, not the bricks and mortar, was of importance. Whenever his people turned to false gods and rejected him, Yahweh abandoned them and their Temple. Each time in history that the bricks-and-mortar temple was destroyed it graphically symbolized Yahweh's displeasure with his ~.people and his ab-sence from them. Through the psalmist as through the prophets, Yahweh insisted that the Temple was sacred because he chose to dwell there. He promised to be with his p.eople as long as they were faithi'ul to him; if they betrayed him, he would withdraw his presence and the Temple, no longer sanctified, would be destroyed. That history and thai faith, were a part of the Judaeo-Christian heritage handed on to Luke. That is evidenced by the fact that his Gospel ends,with the statement that praying and worshipping in the Temple at Jerusalem continued to be a normal practice of Christ's followers after the ascension. And at the beginning of Acts Luke indicates that the same mentality and practices continued to prevail. The disciples, he tells us, went up to the Temple each day at the prescribed liturgical hours to pray (Ac 2:46; 3:1). A shift was beginning to evolve, however; Luke says that for "'the breaking of the bread" they met in private homes. They were Christian-Jews; though a gradual change was "taking place in their worship, they had n6t broken away from their Hebrew. Temple-centered roots. That break would Occur later. But at the time of Luke's writing the Temple was still regarded as the House of Prayer, the place where God made himself manifest among his l~eople. ~Biblical quotations in this article have been made from The Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966); and from The R. S. 'V. Interlinear Greek-English New Testament, by Rev. Alfred Marshall (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons Ltd. 1978). St. Luke's 'Use of the Temple Image / 523 The Literary Structure It is perfectly acceptable in literature to use poetic devices to emphasize certain features of the text. Luke artistically uses repeated references to the Temple.in order to draw the listener or reader to a more reflective and prayerful attention,to the words and the story action o,f his Gospel. Luke's story of Jesus of Nazareth, which has as one of its themes the struggle between good and evil, is based on a five-part.division. An aware-ness~ of this structure and its main themes can assist us in a reflective and prayerful reading of this account of the gospel. It is important to note that this dramatic and reflective outline (given below) does not run counter to nor violate the exacting topical outline that exegetes suggest for study of the text. This literar~y and meditative approach emph~asizes the dramatic quali-ties of the cosmic struggle between Christ and Satan and recognizes the artistic unity in Luke's use 9f the Temple as a focal image. An Outline For Meditation For careful study of the text, commentaries generally outline Luke's Gospel in the following way:2 ~ (1) The Prologue 1:1-4 (2) The Infancy Narrative 1:5--2:52 (3) The Preparation for Ministry 3:1--4:13 (4) The Galilean Minis~try 4:14---9:50 (5) The Journey Na~ative .~ 9:51--19:28 (6) The Jerusalem Ministry 19:29--21:38 (7) The Passion and Glorification 22:1--24:53 ¯ This can be a valugble g~u.ide to discover what Luke tells us about Jesus, his teaching and 'his ministry. It acknowledges the importance of the jour-ney, but only as a pan,of the outli.ne rather than as a theme throughout the entire gospel. According to his introduction, however,. Luke wrote for a prayerful and reflective audience in an artistic way so as to spark the imagination, the feelings,jthe.heart of his readers and to focus attention on the Person of Jesus in order to open their ears and eyes to respond as fully as possible to the message of the Lord as Luke presents it to them. Jesus taught his disciples that his 'message is best heard in prayer and the graces to respond to it best received in prayer. For such a prayerful consideration and use of Luke's text of the gospel I suggest the following outline. PROLOGUE: 1:1-25 ' (a) Introduction: why and to whom he writes. (b) Milieu: time and pl~ce. 2James A. Michener, The Source (Greenwich, CT: Fawcett Publications, 1967), p. 266. 524 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 Zachariah; the Temple scene, in the sanctuary. ACT I: Infancy: Prepare for life. Begins in the Temple: Pre-sentation. Introduces John the Baptist; then Jesus. Closes with the Temple scene. ACT II: Preparation For Mission: ~ Mission, decision, conflict. Career of John the Baptist; genealogy of Jesus. The temp-tations, ending with the Temple image. A hint that Jesus and Satan will meet again. ACT III: Journey and Ministry: Jesus, led by the Spirit, begins his journey toward Jerusalem; He commences his public teaching. A special mention of the Temple (18:10). The section closes with Jesus taking possession of the Temple. ACT IV: Temple and Contest: Jesus teaches daily in the Temple. His enemies plot to kill him. Example of the widow's offering. At night Jesus withdraws from the Temple to the Mount of Olives. 1:26-2:52 3:1-4:13 4:14-19:48 20:1-21:38 ¯ Act V: Conflict: 22:1-24:52a Passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. Signal phrase: "Satan enteri~d." Judas goes to the priests. Trial; condemnation; death. Veil of the Temple is torn. Resurrection and ascension. EPILOGUE: ~ 24:52b-53 The apostles begin their journey in the Tem-ple. The Good News for Prayer In my outline of Luke's gospel, I have indicated that each of the major divisions end witha'specific use of the image of the Temple. In every case of these references the use flows smoothly and naturally out of the thought and action of the story. Artistically, the Temple image serves the same purpose as a major refrain in a symphony or opera; the audience hears it in the background and is reminded~of a principal character or of the primary theme of the work. Like an organist, Luke is able to play on three manuals at once. He uses the image of the Temple, repeated at significant moments in his text, to weave into a unity the principal themes of the life story of Jesus of Nazareth. St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 595 The Temple image establishes the goal of the journey theme and gives it a continuity throughout the whole of the gospel as Luke presents it. Moreover, this image repeated at important instances in the narrative emphasizes and gives a continuity to the main theme of the story of Jesus: his life, death and resurrection. In the course of his journey to Jerusalem, Jesus makes allusions to and direct prophecies, of his death, and resurrec-tion, such as: "The. Son of Man" he said "is destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and to be put to death, and to be raised up on the , third day" (Lk 9:22). But it is the carefully placed references to the Temple that hold this theme of death and resurrection before our eyes throughout the text of this gospel. For at the end of each major section, designated in the outline above, when reference is made to the Temple something ends and something new begins; death and resurrection are symbolized. In the end the Temple of brick and mortar would be destroyed, as Jesus prophesied, to be replaced forever by the eternal Temple of the Risen Christ. Evidence in Greek Terms The literary prologue (1:9-25) ends with the priestly action of Zachariah in that sacred area of the Temple, the sanctuary, while the people wait outside praying. The events recorded in this episode are interpreted as a signal of the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New. It is significant that in the Greek text Luke uses the specific term "sanctuary" or "holy place" (naos) three times in this prologue as his reference to the Temple: (1:9;22). He does not use this term again until after Christ,s death on the cross when he, tells us dramatically, with the tearing of the veil of the "Temple" (naos), that the old has ended and the new has begun~(23:45). There are, however, some instances in the course of his narrative in which Luke makes reference to the Temple or to the sanctuary :with a more general Greek term "the house of God" (oikos theou), because the refer-ence at such times is not essential to the narrative structure. When, for example, Jesus speaks o.f. the prophet "who was murdered between the altar and the sanctuary" (Lk I1:5 l), Luke uses the Greek term, "the house of God" (oikos theos). When, however, the reference is made to the Temple proper and is essential to the narrative structure, he uses the precise Greek term the Temple (hieros). This is the word which he uses at the end of each of the major sections that I have designated as acts in the above outline, as well as in the last verse, the literary epilogue, of his gospel account. Accord, ing to scholars3 Luke.was following a reliable tradition in his use of these 3The Jerome Biblical Commentary, ed. Raymond E. Brown, Joseph A. Fitzmeyer, Roland E. Murphy (New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. 119, 44:19. (For subsequent notes this will be referred to as JBC.)--There is a°good outline of Luke's Gospel for meditative reading in The Gospel According to St. Luke. ed. Alois St6ger (London: Burns & Oates, 1969), two volumes. 526 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Greek terms,, and should not be accused of inconsistency. Of importance in the present consideration,~ however, is Luke's use of the term "the Tem-ple" (hieros), with all its sacred and imaginative connotations from the Old Testament as well as its Christian ,associations with the life of Jesus. This is the" term which Luke uses when he refers to the Temple scene (2:46) with which he completes his narrative o'f~the infancy of Jesus. Simi-larly, he ends with this same Temple image what | have designated as Act II, which describes Jesus' preparation for his mission:" Jesus rejects the third temptation 6f Satan who had led him "to the pinnacle of the Temple" (4:9) and begins his public ministry. With one special excepiion (18:9-14), Luke does not use this precise term for the Temple again until the ehd of the third'section of his narrative (indicated as Act III)when Jesus enters the Temple and forcefully takes possession of it as his Father's house (19:45-46). In e~,ery case when Luke uses this term; we notice that there is an end and a beginning; the life-death-resurrection theme is symbolized in the Temple. At this part of the narrative (19:48) the actual suffering and death of Jesus are imminent, for the growing opposition of his enemies has become a calculated decision to destroy him. Throughout Act IV Jesus teaches daily in the Temple area (hieros); but at night for his own safety he withdraws to the Mount of Olives. He continueS to use the Temple for his mission, but he has begun to abandon it; it is no longer a place of safety for him. In Act V, his rejection of the Temple of bricks and mortar is completed in ~he violent tearing of the veil of the Temple (23:45) to signal the beginning of the reign of Christ. In the epilogue, Luke tells us that the apostles went to the Temple after the ascension of Jesus to await, in, prayer, their call to journey and mission. Each dramatic section of this outline of'the action 0f Luke's gospel closes with a precise use of the image of the Temple which, I ~uggest, holds up before the reflective reader the main theme 'of the life, death and resurrection of the story of Jesus. A reflective and careful exami-nation of even a few' of these sections will bear this out. The Prologue As Prayer ' Luke says that although his readers are familiar with the story of the life bf Jesus, he intends "to write an ordered account." I Shggest that his purpose is to write :an artistic and' meditative account of the Gospel in order to lead his refiders to prayer and a deeper consideration of the events o~ that story. The prologue (as I have designated it, verses ! to 25) can be used as a unit for prayer which inv~olves the whole person of th6 reader. For study purposes exegetes rightly identify as prologue 6nly the first ~our°verses~, because theseare writtenin very stylized and formal-Greek. That is proper to a formal introduction; but a literary prologue, besides'addressing the work to the~hudience, also links it to the past and gives.th'e~ audience some hints of the principal themes in the action that is to follow, The formal introduction, that is the first four verses, appropriately ,addresses the St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 597 Gospel to Theophilus anti to everyone who professes a love of God. Verses 5 to .7 make the link: this is not going to be. a Gr~eek story, but one set in Israel. The first personages to whom we are introduced are two of the finest people that culture and religion produced: "Both were just in the sight of God and scrupulously observed all the commandments and observances of the Lord" :(1:6). Every word of this quotation is rich in history, meaning and imagery. The word "just," often translated as "righteous," "worthy," -"virtuous," is a summary of the history of God's dealings with the Hebrew people. We should also be aware of the suggestive power of names such as Zachariah: "His name means 'Yahweh has remembered'.TM A note of tragedy is sounded with the words that Elizabeth was barren; but the author hastens to set his scene for the main action and to suggest his main themes. It is the solemn hour of, w9rship in the sacred dwelling place of the True God. It is one of the great moments of Zachariah's priestly career; he has been chosen by lot to offer the incense in the sanctuary. While the faithful outside continue in prayer, Zachariah is plunged into a deep mystical ex-perience. Luke's mention of the angel Gabriel (1:19) is regarded as a signal that the new age is about to begin? The same angel had commanded the prophet Daniel to tell his people that their exile and oppression were at an end and that a messenger would come to herald the advent of a new era (Book of Daniel, chapters 9 and 10). By drawing attention to several pa~al-lels between Zachariah's experience and that of Daniel (such as the evening hour of prayer and their being left speechless6) Luke implies that God is about to fulfill his promise and begin that new era. With this incident in the Temple Luke also symbolizes the coming to an end of the Old Covenant and the beginning of the New. This. of course, will be developed and made increasingly more clear as the narrative unfolds. For the moment, this is the hour for which the whole world has been waiting. God is about to enter into the history of man. By closing the prologue with a reference to the Temple (l:.22).Luke esta~blishes a pattern for his symbolizatio.n of a life-death-resurrection t.heme which will be repeated throughout the gospel-story at the end of each significant dramatic section. Use of Imagination in Prayer A studious reading of the Gospel is important to avoid mere flights of 4Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. ed. Gerhard Kittel; trans. G. W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. E~rdmans Publishing Co. 1965). For "hieros" see 111. pp. 221-247. For "naos". IV, pp. 880-890. (Subsequent references m these notes will be to Kittel.)~Klaus Baltzer, in "The Meaning of the Temple in the Lukan Writings.'" Harvard Theolog!cal Review (Misso~ula. Montana: Scholars' Press) 58 (1965), pp. 263-277. regards Luke's use of terms for the Temple as "inconsistent." 5JBC, p. 121, #44:27. 6JBC, p. 121, 4#44:28. Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 fancy, and the use of a good commentary can be of invaluable help. But,a prayerful approach through the use of imagination and other faculties will prevent the opposite errbr of regarding the Gospel as a mere intellectual exercise book. St. Luke's Gospel is a prayer book of the highest merit. But we must bring to it our whole selves as human beings; all our senses and faculties must be employed in our praying. The passage designated as the. end of Act II (2:41-52) is an exemplary unit of action and dialogue which can be momentarily lifted out of the context and used for meditation which involves our whole person in it. ThE opening sentences immediately direct our thought and imagination to Jerusalem and draw us into the journey of Jesus. "Every year" and "Passover" should be equally significant words to us as they were for the people of Jesus' own day. The first activity"is in the world of human, every-day affairs and should alert us to the fact that prayer begins and take~ place in the world of events, circumstances, and persons in the course of our daily lives. Hence, we take our place among friends and acquaintances, with Jesus and Mary. We, too, are going up to Jerusalem, to the Temple, for a joyful celebration. The text, of course, leaves the details of the visit to our imagination. Our prayer at this level might valuably draw us to dwell upon 'what happened at the Temple when Jesus celebrated his entry into adulthood. However,~that can only be surmised; we should not allow our-selves to be sidetracked by it. The text urges us to follow more closely; it puts the emphasis on what occurs after the ceremony of Jesus' Bar Mitz-vah, The return trip to Nazareth is usual and all that might be expected after aj0yful visit to the Temple. Again, it is the world of everyday experience. Jesus was not with his parents, but "they assumed he was with the cara-van." They were conscientious parents and looked for him. No panic is suggested in their action: "They sought him among acquaintances and relations." Where else would one look for a normal twelve-year-old boy who had just experienced the excitement of receptiofi into adulthood? However, "when they failed to find him," anxieties

Issue 26.4 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; Confessions of Religious Women by J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R., and Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 581 Chastity in Relig.i.ous Life by Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J. 604 Penance :~ Sacrament of Poverty by George B. Nintemann, O.P. 625 Poverty Today by Joseph J. Sikora, S.J. 638 ~ ReligiOus and the World by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. 662 The Retreat Director by Paul J. Bernadicou, S.J. 672 Indwelling Dynamism by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 685 High School Retreats by Paul Pilgrara, S.J., and Carl Starkloff, S.J. 703 Liturgy as Symbol by Andrew Weigert 708 Missionary Formation by Sister Barbara Ann, S.N.D. 714' Confession and Growth by Robert L Faricy, S.J. 720 Survey of Roman Documents 725 Views, News, Previews 739 Questions and Answers 749 Book Reviews 758 VOLUM~ 26 NUMBER 4 July 1967 NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS During the first part of September, 1967, the editorial office of REviEw' ~'oR RELIGtOUS will be moved from St. Marys, Kansas, to St. Louis, Missouri. Consequently, the editorial office of the REwEw will be closed from Septem-ber 1, 1967, to September 15, 1967. The St. Louis address of the editorial office of the R~wEw will be announced in the September, 1967, issue of the R~vi~w. This change will not affect the address of the business office of the R~.vl~w in Baltimore, nor will the business office there be closed during the time the editorial office is closed. j. A. CLARMONT, C.Ss.R. SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S. Confessions of Women Religious INTRODUCTION* The purpose of the sacraments is to sanctify men, to build up the body of Christ, and finally to give worship to God. Because they are signs they also instruct. They not only pre-suppose faith, but by words and objects they also nourish, strengthen and express it; that is why they are called "sacra-ments of faith." They do indeed impart grace, but, in addition, the very act of celebrating them disposes the faithful most effectively to receive this grace in a fruitful manner, to wor-ship God duly, and to practice charity (Constitution on the Liturgy, n.59). In this age of Christian renewal, it is important indeed that the liturgy of the sacraments manifest in sign and significance their primary purpose. As Christians we must be sanctified; we must build up the Body of Christ; and we must worship God. All these functions should be as meaningful as possible. They should be made as personal as possible. When we think of the sacraments as en-counters with Christ, we are speaking of personal re-lationships. The sacraments in themselves, because they are actions of Christ, are effective signs of sanctification. However, the recipients and the ministers of the sacra-ments have definite personalistic approaches in the sacramental liturgy if the greatest fruit is to be obtained and growth in holiness be effective. More especially is exterior and interior renewal neces-sary in the sacrament of penance. Here the encounter of the prodigal son with the waiting and forgiving Father is reenacted in the Christian's life. Is not this sacrament one of the most vital and important for the pilgrim Christian * The research fo~ this paper was done as part of the pastoral theology program at the Divine Word International Centre of Reli-gious Education; 260 Colborne Street; London, Ontario; Canada. Since the writing of this paper, Father Clarmont has died--may he rest in peace. Rev. J. A. Clar-mont, C.Ss.R., and Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., are students in pastoral theolog~ at the Divine Word Centre of Religious Education; 960 Col-borne Street; Lon-don, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 26, 1967 + 4. 4. ]. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, $.0;$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS on his way to the God of all love and of all purity? Who has not stumbled on this journey to the fullness of eternal life? Who has not felt his daily faults as impeding growth in the Christ-life? Who has not felt the desire for the merciful Christ to touch and to make clean, to hear the consoling words: "Thy sins are forgiven." Am?rig the people of God who realize the importance of this sacrament are those women dedicated to God by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Because of their calling to be a sign of the fullness of the Christian vocation, these generous women seek a profound union with God through Christ in the Spirit. B~y laboring to build up the Body of Christ, they attempt to make of their lives a continu6us act of worship to the triune God. They, perhaps more than others, are conscious of their human failings, are desirous of offering a pure holocaust to God, are anxious to receive the sacrament of God's merciful pardon and~ encouraging aid with all possible meaning. They do wish to make the reception of the sacrament of penance a truly personal encounter with the glorified Christ in His saving acts. These convictions, coupled with sincere and frank self-criticism by many priest-confessors and sister-penitents, were the inspiration of this study on the confessions of women religious. Our purpose is not academic, but practi-cal. It is hoped that the present study will enable both the confessor and the sister to avoid stifling routine and to rediscover the unfathomable riches of this sacrament. In order to view the present situation on a factual basis a questionnaire (See Appendix A) was sent to a random sampling of priest-confessors and sister-penitents. No at-tempt was made to include both the confessor and the sisters of a given convent. The-returned questionnaires from sixty-s.ix p.riests and one hundred and thirty-three sisters inclu~ded a widely varied group as regards age, occupation,, and location. Many dioceses of Canada and the United States were represented. Detailed statistics will be found in Appendix B. The principal items on the questionnaire centered around the~ physical environment of the confessional; the number of sisters who would be going to confession at the same time and the corresponding number of con-fessors available; methods of examimltion of conscience and the confession itself; the place of spiritual direction; and value judgments with respect to the confessor's. attitude toward this priestly ministry, the sister's attitude toward the fionfessor, and the greatest benefits and diffi-culties experienced by both the priest-confessor and the sister-penitent. Finally, both confessors and sisters were asked to state .how the sacrament of penance could be made more meaningful for sisters. The primary purposes for the questionnaire and hence for this study were, first, to ascertain, as much as is possi-ble within the limits of this sampling, those factors which tend to hinder a meaningful reception of the sacrament; and second, to propose means by which the reception of the sacrament could be made more meaning-ful. In this study we shall confine our remarks to a sum-mary of those factors which tend to hinder a meaningful reception of the sacrament of penance. Positive sug-gestions, based on the questionnaires and other research, will occupy a later study. General Impressions Irom the Questionnaires The survey indicates that most of the priest-confessors have a deep admiration, sympathy, and wholesome con-cern for the sister-penitent. These confessors are conscious of the holiness attained and the holiness sought by these dedicated women. Many desire to help the sisters in their struggle for sanctity, both by the sacramental confession itself and by the opportunities for spiritual guidance provided by the sacrament. These attitudes were quite evident from responses td the question: "What do you find most satisfying regarding sisters' confessions?" By nature (womanly) they have the potentiality of being great women of God and for the Church. If they do not, per-haps it is because we have failed them. However, thirty-seven confessors were unfavorably im-pressed with sisters' confessions in general: The greatest difficulty in hearing sisters' confessions is over-coming the feeling that I 'am mired hip-deep in childish obstacles to the Christian life that I am incapable of changing. These priests expressed the realization and consequent frustration that, at the present time, many sisters' confes-sions are meaningless. When reading the sisters' questionnaires, the authors were impressed by the simplicity, candor, and utter honesty of the comments. Where the sisters are critical of others---be they confessors, superiors, and canon law itself--they are no less critical of themselves. The most evident conclusion to be drawn from these questionnaires is that the sisters, with the exception of five, are faced with many problems in their reception of the sacrament of penance. What is meant to be a sacra-ment of peace and joy is fraught with unpleasant diffi-culties and hardships, many of which are beyond their control: Confession is not a joyful encounter with Christ, but an obligation to be fulfilled. I hope advancements in the near future will help us to acquire the right attitude. 4" 4" 4" t:ontessions o! Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 583 Why Penance Is Less Meaningful Certain factors which tend to make the sacrament of penance less meaningful were identified in both sets of questionnaires. Table 1 lists the number of sisters and/or priests who cited these factors as problems. TABLE 1 Diffculties Encountered by Confessors and Sisters in the Sacrament oJ Penance Cited by 66 Confessors Cited by 133 Sisters Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Examination of consci-ence . Impersonal relationship. Confessor not under-standing . . Environment . Rite . Numbe~ of Con-fessor 33 12 36 16 30 5 Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Difficulty in confessing. Impersonal relationship. Confessor not under-standing . Parish priest for confes-sor . Lack of suitable direc-tion . Environment . Rite . Number of Sisters 53 .40 54 36 44 36 51 56 93 38 ÷ ÷ ÷ I. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 ~ Only 23 sisters have their parish priest as confessor. 1. Routine One of the major obstacles to a meaningful reception of the sacrament of penance is routine. The frank answers to the questionnaire reveal clearly the feeling among confessors that most sisters' reception of this sacrament is mere routine ~nd thus utterly meaningless. Most feel the routine is due to its weekly celebration on the same day, and at the same hour, year in and year out. Sisters also are acutely aware of the malaise that comes from "the backlog of years of receiving the sacrament in a most uninspiring way with no conception of the living reality that it is." Routine seems to take the life and vital-ity out of this sacrament and add the "-less" to "mean-ing." Many point to either the interpretation of canon law or their constitutions regarding obligatory weekly confession as one of the chief causes of this routine, not-ing that weekly confession fulfills a law, but not neces-sarily a personal need: I'd likb to go when I feel the need. Canon law needs to .be revised here. The problem of routine seems to have pervaded every aspect of the sacramental process. Some sisters lament routine in their examination of conscience; others in the rite itself. Especially susceptible to monotony is the confession of sins: I tell the same old thing week after week. It makes me feel like a "phony" and because of this feeling, I hate to go. Also I feel that I am boring the priest. The confessor who continually gives the same penance and exhortation also contributes to the rite of routine. Generally speaking, sisters are aware of the devastating effects which accompany the routin~ rut--"the lack of growth in love'--and that the responsibility of avoiding routine lies heavily upon them. They readily admit that ignorance regarding the real meaning of the sacrament of penance is a major factor in routine. There has been a great tendency to blame the indi-vidual for approaching the sacrament in a routine man-ner. It is, however, our contention that a routine recep-tion of penance is only a symptom of other deeply rooted causes, some of which are inherent in the structures surrounding the sacrament itself. These are the causes which we intend to examine. 2. Time Problems Pressure of work and limited time when they can receive the sacrament--when the confessor comes~makes it harder physi-cally and psychologically to receive the sacrament with devo-tion and meaningfu.lness. The allotted time---too little and too often--also in-creases the danger of routine. Often the confessor must rush the sisters through, assembly-line fashion. Little time can be given for any personal concern, guidance, or words of encouragement. Busy confessors are often frus-trated trying to fit in to the tightly organized convent schedule. On the other hand, some sisters have noted that the time arrangement for confessions seems to be best for the confessor rather than for the community. In many places confessions are scheduled at the end of a busy day when mental and physical exhaustion render one "too tired to think." Or what is worse: Confessions are heard by our chaplain a few minutes before Mass in our chapel. Often preparation for confession is unnecessarily hurried under these conditions. One sister makes her examination of conscience "while out of breath after knocking several people down racing to get to confession on return from school." ÷ ÷ ÷ ~onlesslons ol Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 585 I. A. Clarmont, C Sister M. Denis, S.O.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 However, it is within the confession itself that time pressures ,make their gr.eatest assault: It (confession) seemed to be simply pushing the slide as quickly as possible with a 'minimum of necessary words on either side. Direction??? Two priests for over two hundred sisters in about three hours!ll In large convents time pressures are compounded be-cause of the great number of sisters and the inevitable long lines. One sister typically noted that the greatest difficulty she experienced in receiving the sacrament of p.enance was "the speed with which one receives the absolution and knowing that there ~are fifty people waiting." ~' Both superiors and confessors, in conjunction with the sisters concerned, should examine the confession schedule and ensure enough time for a meaningful re-ception of this sacrament. Any act that must continually be performed in as short a time as possible is bound to be considered of little" importance--and a sacrament is of infinite value. 3. Lack of Freedom Under present conditions, pressures of time have caused much of the confession routine. Causally linked to both problems is the almost uniform lack of freedom for the sisters to confess when, where, to whom, and as often as they wish. One should seriously consider whether or not this problem is at the root of most of the difficulties ;experienced by confessors and penitents. Compulsory weekly confessions, when perhaps sisters are not prepared, have nothing to relate, or are not in the mood, must have a deleterious effect on a fruitful and meaningful recep-tion of this sacrament that demands genuine faith, true sorrow, and a real consciousness of sin. The core of the problem is indicated in the following comments of a priest-confessor: The sacrament should be left up to the free choice of the sister. How, in conscience, can a rule or a superior tell one when to receive the sacrament? Expressing the same sentiment, a sister wrote: Let the sisters be prompted to go to confession by their own inner needs. They are mature women who can surely be trusted to get to the sacraments often enough. Even though the weekly legislation is weakening, most sisters are expected to go to confession at the appointed time. Often unnecessary tension ~s set up between personal conscience and obedience, especially when such legislation is part of the rule to which the sister has vowed obedience. It was quite evident from the question-naires that the majority of sisters, are not free in this regard. As an older sister pointed out, there seems to be some discrepancy between the theology of the sacrament of penance and present legislation concerning the reception of "penance: Since confession is not necessary, except for mortal sins, it would be well for some pronouncement to be made about it to clear away wrong ideas. More and more, the sisters want to take their places with the People of God and to be accorded the same rights, duties, obligations, and privileges: It is well to go to confession in the parish church as part of the People of God and standing in line with them. Some peo-ple seem.to be of the opinion that sisters never go to confession because we never have sins. If they onl~ knewlll For reasons which will be readily seen later in this study, sisters desire the freedom to choose their own confessor, which, of course, implies freedom of place: Each sister should have her own confessor. She should go where he is, if desired, and receive the sacrament in the way she finds most beneficial and personal to her, in a manner agreed upon by herself and the confessor. This mature desire is seconded by many confessors. Cloistered sisters, in particular, are deprived of any opportunities of freedom in regard to confession. One older cloistered sister stated that her greatest difficulty in the reception of penance was the enclosure "because you can't go to different priests:" Another sister in a different cloistered convent suggested that "cloistered sisters who haven't the opportunities available to active sisters be permitted to go to the parish church---or wherever they choose for confession to a priest,of their choice, on a day of their choice." Lacking all of these suggestions she pleaded for bishops to try to make it a point to choose competent spiritual men as confessors for cloistered sisters. As was pointed out by several concerned sisters, the rights of all should be respected. To pass from a rule of weekly confession to another rule of biweekly or monthly confession would still not solve the problem of lack of freedom in the frequency of confession: The few who feel the need of weekly confession and realize the great source of graces received are becoming uneasy. The confessor only comes every second week now, since he knows several of the sisters want it this way. This is depriving those who wish weekly confession many graces. There is no freedom in this case. Since our confessional is the chapel, there is no opportunity to go before Mass. 4- 4- 4- Conlesslons o# Women Religious VOLUME 26, 19~7 ÷ J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 588 4. Insufficient Training Without a theological knowledge of the religious life and its link to the ecclesial aspect of the sacrament of penance, how can the latter be a real benefit to growth in the Christian life? A thorough course on the sacraments in general, with a great emphasis on their relation to the sister's life of service and her spiritual life, is needed. Confessors have noted that many sisters are not properly trained concerning the purpose of the sacrament. Where is the blame to be attributed? Certainly, lack of proper training in novitiates, lack of personal meditation and study of the nature of this sacrament, and hurried preparation due to a lack of time are related causes. Many sisters have received little or no mature training to deepen their knowledge and appreciation of the sacra-ment of penance after the initial preparation for first confession preceding first Holy Communion: We lack training on the sacramental, biblical, and theologi-cal basis of penance. The fact that six sisters stated they found nothing bene-ficial in the reception of penance bespeaks a lack of in-struction: I must say I did more than smile when I saw this survey. It takes all the faith I have and even more to believe in the sacrament of penance. This has become more serious since I entered. Having been brought up with no explanation of it except the fact that it was a habit to go to confession once a month, it meant very little, in fact, nothing to me. Religious life has done nothing to give it more meaning. Instead, it is now a habit to go once a week instead of once a month. Such training should have been an integral part of every novitiate program. Beyond the novitiate there has been a dearth of instruction concerning the meaning of penance: No one has really explained the positive aspect of confession as an encounter with Christ. We need discussion with the confessor on the meaning and value of the sacrament. It seems to me that a whole education for both confessors and confessers is necessary. No doubt, steps are being taken in many areas to remedy the situation, particularly since the aggiornamento of Vatican II. 5. Examination of Conscience Some of the greatest criticism, from the confdssor, was the sisters' apparent lack of nnderstanding how to .ex-amine one's conscience as a religious, the inability to communicate any real openness of soul. Thirty priest- confessors felt that the sisters' examination of conscience was unrealistic. Their major criticisms center on the sisters' tendencies to majorize the minima: "They cut a hair in four." Often their confessions reflect petty violations of rule, a listing of imperfections and failings without consideration for the deeply rooted causes of faults: The sisters don't know what to look for and it is very difficult to get them to realize "sins" against one's neighbor, lying, cheating, pride, vanity, uncharitableness, selfishness are more injurious to their progress in sanctity than missing re-creation, failing to make meditation, impure thoughts and even action. To the confessor, the sister does not seem to develop her own personality in the sacramental context but reflects the thinking of her novice mistress and/or rule. The sacrament of penance designedly fulfills both a psychologi-cal and a spiritual need of the individual, but in the case of sisters, these needs are often served in a very super-ficial way: Their examination of conscience is real in the sense of following a taught and believed-in need, but hardly a real and basic human need. It is more the satisfaction of a conditioned (subconscious) need. Too often the examination of conscience is based on violations of the rule rather than violations of the gospel of Christ: Their desire seems to be to keep a clean slate rather than to live the spirit of the gospel. It would seem from the confessors' remarks that examina-tion of conscience, on the whole, is inadequate and fails to promote growth in sanctity. The sisters also admit that an inadequate examination ~f conscience is a deterrent to a meaningful confession. Some sisters state that their method of examination is too negative or too stereotyped; others feel that they are lacking in self-knowledge; still others find difficulty in deciding each week what is really sufficient important conscience matter. Several sisters expressed dissatisfaction with methods of examination that they were taught: I find examinations dwelling on faults, failings, and slighted points of rule are petty, extremely repulsive, and tantamount to nit-picking. Let's be more concrete: One sister who bases the ~examination of conscience on failings in charity states: This is not satisfactory to me, but I don't know how to remedy it and haven't reached the point.of discussing it openly with someoue yet. + ÷ ÷ Cont~ssions ol Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 589 ].4. ~larmon¢, ~ C.Ss.R. Sister M~ i DS.eOn.i&s, REV]EW FOR RELZGIOUS 590 All of~these difficulties point to a real need for reeduca-tion in this area. 6. Dil~iculty in Co~[essing Unique to their role as penitent, the sisters mention that often they are hampered by fear, reticence, human respect, and an inability to communicate in the confes-sional. Frustration is experienced by those who feel an inability "to manifest simply and clearly.one's weaknesses and spiritual state." On the other hand, there is the sister who apparently knows what to say but is hampered by "the fear of being too frank, thereby embarrassing the confessor and one's self." As one sister said: "I really do not think there is shortage of matter, but just that we cannot bring ourselves to be ourselves." In answer to the question: What do you find the greatest difficulty in your reception of the sacrament of penance?" a sister wrote: What and how to confess sins. There is plenty of matter for confession, but how can you verbalize the multitudinous fail-ures-- real failures? One sister said that she would like to express sins of omission l~ut felt that the confessor would not accept this as matter for a good confession. Another stated that she "would like to feel free to express myself in ordinary terms without the confessor becoming impatient." This difficu.lty persists in some, even with the best of condi-tions: I have difficulty in expressing my problems or difficulties in a clear and brief way even when I have the good fortune to have a confessor who is understanding. 7. Impersonal Relationship Today we hear much about personal relationships. Certainly it would appear that to make the sacrament of penance a means of spiritual growth there must be an interpersonal relationship between the sister-penitent and the priest-confessor, The obvious fact that two hu-man beings are united in the enactment of this sacra- - ment is too readily overlooked due to an "opere operato" mentality. Each person involved in this act of worship should relate to the other--as a communion of persons. But.,then, what about those who desire anonymity? Are the two contradictory? A relationship of concern, interest,. and desire to aid the penitent is sufficient, even though the sister is not known. However, for true spiritual guidancE, anonymity is a hindrance. Recognition of this lack of personal relationship is manifested in the remarks of the clergy: The dialogue is nil even though the confessor makes an attempt at the possibility of discussion on any matter that would ease any problems by the mere relating of them. There is also a desire for better relationship expressed by some confessors: ' Sisters of whatever type they are, with whatever problem they cope with, should be listened to closely, intently, pa-tiently. The confessor remains the key to the beneficial con-fessions of religious women. I am trying to make myself a better confessor by cultivating in myself greater love of God, a deeper insight into the nature of sin, and a better understanding of the person.s who are con-fessing. For most sisters, too, a lack, of true interperson.al re-lationship of the human level militates against a real understanding of the sacrament of penance as an en-counter with Christ. One sister even commented that because of the impersonal atmosphere, "confession can turn into an inhuman act." That the sisters object to being treated as "things" is evident in the following: Confession should be more of a person-to-person encounter, rather than a thing-to-thing. I don't feel that the priest is interested in me as an in-dividual, but in our community as a group. Whenever one speaks of interpersonal relationships, one must be aware of the important role played" by communication and dialogue: A greater sense of an interpersonal relationship is needed in confession, so that one does not feel that one is just another person with another uninteresting story. The biggest problem to my mind is the lack of commumcation between the confessor and myself. He doesn't seem interested in me as a person, so I cannot bring myself to talk to him. Attempts have proved fruitless. I feel that confession is basic to our spiritual life and think that it is high time dialogue with a capital "D" is possible with our confessor in particular, and priests in general. Great benefit can accrue from a genuinely human re-lationship: When I can open up to a confessor who is equipped to listen, I find that I at least can get close to experiencing a meeting with Christ. 8. Confessor Not Understanding When the confessor does not represent the under-standing and patient Christ,. the sisters' difficulties will be augmented. Does the priest himself feel capable? con-cerned? truly helpful? Earlier in. this study we mentioned the appreciation for the vocation of the sisters and for their zeal and holiness. There is a real desire on the part of un-derstanding priests, to help the sisters, to make confession an effective source of Christian growth: + + + ontesaons ot Women 1~eligious VOLUME 26, 1967 591 4. 4. 4. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. DSe.nOi.sS,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 I am intensely interested in helping religious and proclaim !oudly and often the deplorable injustice which, I feel, priests in general have perpetrated in regard to these tremendous women, and that for centuries. It starts with the kind of "bon-papa" assigned to postulates and continues right on through to the type of retired, nasty, selfish, old bachelor whom no one will put up with except "the dear good sisters." Most priests want to get out of having to hear sisters' confessions and are only too happy to have anyone at all take over the chore, even if it happens to be someone who is good for nothing else. Many priests are sisters' confessors, not by inclination, training, or talent, but by appointment. What could make confession more meaningless to the sisters than the necessity to confess to some priest who merely tolerates his task of hearing their confessions? Or looks upon it as a waste of time? Or feels inadequate for the situation? Those priests who are interested and willing to give the necessary time and effort should "specialize" as confes-sors of women religious. As a priest stated, among the qualifications for a priest-confessor of sisters should be "some knowledge of the psychology of religious women and of counseling along with common sense and compas-sion." It is questionable whether seminary courses in pastoral theology treat of this specialized apostolate. In answering the question: "Are you satisfied with your confessor?" sixty-one sistei:s replied in the negative. Sis-ters are particularly sensitive to the priest's attitude toward hearing sisters' confessions in general: For our confessor, as for most confessors whom I have en-countered, the hearing of sisters' confessions seems to be an unpleasant duty to be got through as quickly as possible and with as little personal involvement as possible. Such an attitude is bound to inhibit the penitent. Others commented that their confessor is one in the strictest sense only, that is, he listens to confessions and gives absolution. Some confessors seem "uninterested, uncon-cerned, and unwilling to be of assistance." An older sister wrote: In my forty-six years of confessions, I can think of three priests that stand out because they were interested and gave all the time one wanted, plus counsel. Further irritation is caused by a condoning manner which implied "that you were a good girl who did not really need confession--'Keep up the good work.'" In addition, impatience, abruptness, moodiness, oversensi-tivity, unapproachableness were cited by the sisters as un-desirable qualities in a priest-confessor. Sisters are distressed by the male mistake of not under-standing the feminine mystique. Neither native intelli-gence nor acquired holiness is a substitute for under-standing feminine psychology. In the confessional the priest is dealing with the whole person--body, soul, mind, feelings. In addition to understanding the psychological and biological factors of women, the confessor should be able to "get behind the externals" in order to understand what "women get frustrated over": The confessor should consider most religious as shy persons; and deal with them as you would a shy person. Those who appoint confessors should see to it that the con-fessor is one who knows what women are, how they function and why; that be knows and understands the cycle of a wo-men- the menopause. We had a confessor who knew nothing of all this and said so, and what is worse, didn't want to know. It's all medical, he said. Furthermore, the feminine expression of the religious life is as different from the masculine expression of the religious life as woman is "from man: If we only had an understanding priest who knew what community living involved. This would solve many problems. From a total of. forty-two sisters with diocesan.priests for confessors, only eighteen expressed dissatisfaction with the confessor since he had no personal experience of community life as lived by religious. Most of the eighteen stated that they would prefer a religious priest. Frequently sisters experience difficulty when the pastor for whom they work, especially in a small town, is their con tess or: It is undesirable to have the pastor or some other priest, who is in frequent contact with the sisters in a professional way, as confessor. It is very apparent that the person of the confessor plays an important role in contributing to the meaning-fulness of the sacrament of penance, without, however, the penitent abdicating her own personal responsibility: Each person needs to find her own personal response to God. The priest can suggest, but the decision must be your own. I have great sympathy for the priegt who has to be a con-fessor to sisters (being stoned to death with popcorn, as one priest put it), but I believe lie must definitely have the in-clination for it, a solid knowledge of feminine psychology, , and the knack of helping his penitents to be more objective in their outlook. 9. Lack Of Suitable Direction ÷ When discussing the lack of spiritual direction as a + factor in rendering the sacrament of penance less mean-ingful, we are adopting, in line with the replies on the. questionnaires, the broad meaning of spiritual direction, onfesslons namely, a personal or general exhortation directed to the Women Religious penitent. Xqhile it is beyond the scope of this study to examine theologically the relationship of spiritual direo 593 tion to the sacrament of penance, such a relationship will be investigated in a later study. Nearly all the confessors gave some spiritual exhorta-tion, either general or personal, and the latter particu-larly when needed or requested: I simply invite them after each confession to bring up any problem they might have before dismissing them. Compara-tively few do so--maybe two per month. General direction is quite useless, a waste of breath. It de-pends on the penitent whether I give personal direction. Some gave a short homily to the assembled community as preparation for the reception of penance. There were a few, however, who merely gave absolution. Only in a few cases, judging from the confessors' re-sponses can we attribute lack of direction as a source of meaningless confessions. However, it is in this area of confessional exhortation that we find the greatest dis-parity between the priests' and the sisters' remarks. Table 2 indicates the number of sisters receiving dif-ferent types of spiritual exhortation or direction in the confessional. TABLE 2 Types of Direotion Received in'the Confessional Type of Direction Number of Sisters General . 58 Specific direction . 42 No direction at all . 33 Of those receiving general direction nineteen sisters stated that they wished to have this type of exhortation continued; four sthted that they did not want any direc-tion. It is noteworthy that thirty-four of the fifty-eight~ sisters receiving a general type of direction desired to have the exhortation related more to the spirit and tone of each penitent's confession, instead of vague, impersonal re-,. marks on some loosely connected topic, such as the Holy Souls: 0f course, I want and need direction. Perhaps I'm just looking for a spiritual pat on the back at times, but I don't want a confessor with stereotyped answers. I want him to + make me think things out. + If we add to these thirty-four sisters, the forty sisters + who receive a specific type of direction and wish to con- I. A. (?larmont, tinue doing so, then there is a total of seventy-four sis- , c~s~. ters indicating a preference for individual direction in sister M. Oe,,is, the confessional. A sister who received personal direction s.o.s. stated: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS At first I found it almost embarrassingly so, but it is of 594 great help, One sister receiving specific direction did not wish to have any at all; and another sister stated that she would rather ask for it when needed. Table 3, illustrating the helpfulness of the type of direction the sisters are presently receiving, is indicative of the sisters' preference for a more personalized exhorta-tion. TABLE 3 The Help.[ulness of Various Types of Spiritual Direction Degree of Helpfulness General Direction Specific Direction Total Possible 58 Total Possible 42 Helpful . 17 37 Not helpful . 21 1 Sometimes helpful . 20 4 Some of the nine sisters who stated that they did not wish to have direction of any type qualified their remarks as follows: No guidance wanted from this type of confessor. In some twenty years in religious life, I personally have met only one regular confessor who was genuinely interested in my prog-ress in holiness. From those receiving no direction whatsoever the fol-lowing remarks imply a sense of frustration or futility: Every week that I have gone to this confessor for the past five years he says, "Once again, Sister, leave it all to the mercy of God and for your penance say three Hail Mary's to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament." He gives no spiritual direction for anything less than sins of murder! Only four receiving no direction indicated that they did not wish to have any; twenty-nine stated a desire for di-rection of some kind. The whole area of spiritual direction is a delicate one since both the "feast or the famine" extremes pose evi-dent difficulties for the sisters. They would like the con-lessor to be interested and helpful, but without making them feel compelled to reveal themselves. For the con-lessor to ask a lead question such as: "Is there anything else you would like to say?" is welcome and leaves the individual free. As shown previously, many sisters are shy and reticent in the confessional. Such a question would provide them with an opening. From the sisters' viewpoint there seem to be few priests who really understand what they mean when asking for direction: There seems to be a lack of understanding for our way of life--for the desire to grow in love and union with God. Most just can't take the time to bother, or if they waht to help, Conlessions ot, Women Religiott~ VOLUME 26, 1967 595 they can't understand about our life. Some of the younger priests seem to have more of an understanding of spiritual direction in the confessional than many of the older ones. They have caught the spirit of the Council and of the "inner renewal," not just external changes, and have taken special interest in the direction of sisters. Tliere is overwhelming evidence from the survey that the sisters included in this sampling wish to receive di-rection in the confessional as indicated by 122 out of 133 sisters. As was seen, the strong preference is for a more personal exhortation. 10. Environment The problem area that appeared most frequently on the questionnaires is that of the physical environment of the confessional, with ninety-three sisters and thirty-two priests reporting dissatisfaction with the present situation. Table 4 gives a break-down of this figure. TABLE 4 Changes Desired by Confessors and Sisters in the Physical Environment of the Confessional Desired Changes Priests Sisters Wish improvements in the tradi-I tional .confessional . I 16 40 Wish face-to-face confessions in an open room . ] 16 53 4- I. A. Clarmonk, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S~O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 There was barely an aspect of the traditional con-fessional that escaped criticism. One priest dryly com-mented: o My experience is d, at while the sisters have built hospitals, schools, and motherhouses equal to the Taj Mahal, they have yet to build a decent confessional. Acoustics in most are poor. Severe criticism was leveled at the double confessional in which one sister said she "had been hearing confessions for years." For the deaf sisters this problem is acute. Poor placement of the confessional ranged from the front of the chapel where the sister "had to face the entire community when com-ing out" to the sacristy "where the sacristan had to be informed and evacuated for extra confessions." Both priests and sisters wished to dispel the dark gloomy at-mosphere in the confessional by more normal lighting. In short, "light, air, more room, and the opportunity to hear and to be heard" are needed. When referring to the type of confessional used, one sister noted that attitudes towards this beautiful sacra-ment could change, ':if the sisters were free to go to con-fession in the place they choose--a sunny, bright room or a closed confessional." Another asserted that any physical change which would make confession more of a sacra-ment of encounter would be helpful. A confessor wrote: I've already abandoned the confessional in the chapel for a portable in a small parlor where privacy is assured even for the hard-of-hearing, where I can look out at the birds, flowers, trees, and squirrels which remind me of the bounty of God whose largesse I am dispensing. For some, the focus of annoyance was the screen or grill in the traditional confessional: I simply cannot relate to a blank screen. It's torture trying to mumble your problems at a white screen. There appears to be relative unanimity among priest-confessors and sister-penitents in their mutual detestation of the confessional "box": ~ The gloomy secretive atmosphere of the confessional does not seem conducive to inspiring anyone with any 'particular joy at being the receiver of such a tremendous blessing. Let's get out of the sweat boxl Is it so necessary that women go to confession in a closed confessional? Can't canon law be revamped in this regard? After all, we say we meet Christ in penance. Why should a grill and darkness set His representative aloof from us? Many priests have decried the ordinary environment, that is, the confessional, as destructive of a personal re-lationship and meaningful confession: Have a place where sisters could be less formal and able to talk in a normal voice, not whispering. Thus they could see their confessor as a spiritual director and not a mere automaton dispensing sins in a machine-like way. Several suggested that confessions be heard in a counsel-ing room where privacy is assured and where both con-fessor and penitent can be at ease. The sisters also question the traditional confessional environment. External surroundings have a great in-fluence on one's attitudes and may have accounted for much of the fear which has accompanied the sacrament of penance for many sisters: Completely revamp the confessional. An across-the-desk or from-one-comfortable-chair-to-the-next would be much more conducive to sincerity and perhaps more practically effective. Christ met Nicodemus out on a rooftop, the adulterous woman in a temple courtyard, Zaccheus in a tree, the cripple at a public swimming pool, Dismas at a public execution. Why in the name of God, our Father, must He meet us in a dark, little, musty box with his hand in front of his eyes, his face turned away, through a screen or grill or even a plastic sheet? What's wrong with being face to face with His representative? in a lighted room? in a comfortable chair? in a relaxed and open manner. We talk about faith. What kind of faith do we show by hiding from the light and warmth of person-to-person communication? You can't take the light of faith and hide it + 4. 4- Conlessions o~ Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 597 4, 4. C.SsJL Sisger M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~98 in a box, but put it out in the open. Penance should be a two-way dialogue with both priest and penitent brought closer to Christ by the encounter. Although these expressions are opposed to a sacred tra-dition of confessional anonymity, yet all of them seem to carry, that cry for a more meaningful interpersonal re-lationship with the priest-confessor. They honestly seek to have a setting that will be more natural, more tiuman, and more conducive to genuine help from this wonderful sacrament. A choice, however, should be left for' the penitent--either a face-to-face accusation or the privilege of anonymity. 11. Rite Our present rite of the sacrament of penance fails to convey the full import of this sacrament: Certainly penance has ceased to be "public" except in name only. Much must be done to restore penance to its place in the public worship of the Church. " We need a complete revision of the liturgy of the sacrament to fit the real needs and become a living sign in their daily lives. Many confessors indicated a desire for communal ex-amination of conscience, for a preparatory homily prior to the reception of the sacrament, and for general abso-lution. Thirty-eight sisters expressed dissatisfaction with the present rite of penance. Of the thirty-eight, twenty-five wished" to have some form of communal penance with optional private confession; seven wished to have some communal exhortation or rite followed by private con-fession; and six wished to have minor changes made in the present rite: It is hard to realize the ecclesial or community aspect of penance under its preseht form. General absolution would make the sacraxnent of penance much more meaningful for me, and I am not a coward or lack-ing in faith when I say this. The development of these suggestions will be con-sidered in a later study when we deal with those factors .that should lead to a more meaningful celebration of this sacrament. Progress is being made by liturgists to make all the sacraments more meaningful. Certainly their reception in the vernacular has helped, but many are still concerned about a truly ex.pressive rite that con-veys the true meaning of the sacrament of penance. Conclusion As stated in the beginning of this study, our purpose is' not academic but practical. As one confessor wrote to I think a great deal of talking, discussion, and beefs have taken place about weekly confessors for sisters. Now it is time for action. I would like to see something done about it. I hope your study leads to some practical results. I love the sisters and feel they deserve to find a greater degree of the ful-fillment in Christ's love which they sought when they embraced the evangelical counsels. It is sincerely hoped that those responsible for the con-fessions of women religious from the diocesan chancery office to the local convent will examine and attempt to rectify some of the problems surrounding the reception of this sacrament. We have tried to show how the various factors which militate against a meaningful reception of penance are interrelated and therefore cannot be considered in iso-lation. The most obvious problem for both confessors and penitents is routine, but the most basic problem is the lack of freedom regarding time, place, confessor, and frequency. If sisters were given the responsibility to see to their own needs regarding penance, then--given normal conditions--time problems, all the difficulties related to the confessor would be eased. The sacramental rite in its present form is neither in-structive nor indicative of the ecclesial purpose of pen-ance. In addition, a truly Christ-like interpersonal rela-tionship between confessor and penitent is impeded by the physical surroundings of the confessional itself. However, for the individual sister, despite all external obstacles, the most effective remedy for routine is a thorough updating and continued education in the theology of the sacrament and its practical application in her own life. Because of little or no formation, the sisters do not really understand how to examine their consciences realistically and hence have great difficulty in the actual confession. These shortcomings on the part of the sister-penitent, in addition to weekly confession when often there is no real need, are greatly responsible for the confessor!s negative attitudes towards sisters' confessions. Underly-ing most of these difficulties lies the inability of the priest-confessor and the sister-penitent to see and to accept one another in their individual roles in the Body of Christ. It was evident from the questionnaires that there is grave mutual misunderstanding between the priest-confessors as a whole and the sister-penitents as a whole. The priests do not seem to comprehend the seriousness of all the problems concerned to the same extent that the sisters do. Many priests admit they do not know how to use the sacrament of penance as an fective source of spiritual growth and development. Furthermore, the sisters often close themselves to re-ceiving the good intentions of the confessor. We feel in-÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions o] Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 599 capable of judging where the fault lies but would like to suggest that both the confessor and the sisters in a given location openly discuss the problems pertinent to their situation. We owe our sincere gratitude to the confessors and sisters who took the time to answer the questionnaires so thoroughly and honestly. It has been a difficult but instructive task reading the questionnaires, assessing various responses, and attempting to be as objective as possible. We hope that our later study will indeed com-plement this negative analysis with truly positive aids towards making confession more satisfying for both confessor and penitent, creating mutual respect, charity, and joy. APPENDIX A FACSIMILE OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE SENT TO CONFESSORS Dear Father: As part of our work in Pastoral Theology at The Divine Word Centre, London, we are making a study of the confessions of women religious. For this purpose we are asking your cooperation in completing the following questionnaire. Your frank answers and any other comments you care to make would be greatly appreciated. Use the back of this paper if necessary. All replies . will be held in the strictest confidence. Please return the completed form UNSIGNED. Rev. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 1. Age ____ Diocesan Priest ____ Religious Priest __ (Check one) 2. Number of convents to which you are the regular confessor: + ]. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. , Sister M. Denis, S.O3. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 600 Approximate number of sisters in convent ___ Location of content: City ___ Town or village ____ (Check one) Type of sisters: C!oistered.___ Non-cloistered ___ (Check one) 3. Are you the pastor and/or chaplain to these sister's? Yes __ NO --- 4. If the convent is large, how many other regular confessors assist you? ____ 5. What is your impression of sisters' confessions, in general? Please be sharp and specific. 6. From your experience in hearing sisters' confessions, do you think that their examination of conscience is realistic and adequate? 7. What type of spiritual direction or counsel do you give? (i.e., personal or general) 8. What do you find most satisfying regarding sisters' confes-sions? 9. What is your greatest difficulty regarding sisters' coqfessions? I0. How could the Sacrament of Penance be made more meaning-ful for sisters? 11. Are there any changes you would like to make in the physical environment of the confessional (location, type, lighting, acoustics, etc.)? FACSIMILE OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE SENT TO SISTERS Dear Sister: As part of our work in Pastoral Theology at The Divine Word Centre, London, we are making a study of the confessions of women religious. For this purpose we are asking your cooperation in com-pleting the following questionnaire. Your frank answers and any other comments you care to make would be greatly appreciated. Use the back of this paper if necessary. All replies will be held in the strictest confidence. Please return the completed form UN-SIGNED. Rev. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 1 :' Age __ Occupation 2. Location of convent: City ____ Town or village ___ (Check one) 3. Number of sisters in Convent __ Number of weekly con-fessors ____ 4. Diocesan priest ___ Religious priest ___ (Check one) Is he your pastor and/or chaplain? Yes ___ No __ (Check one) 5. Are you satisfied with your confessor? Please give sharp and specific reasons. 6. How do you make your examination of conscience? 7. What type of spiritual direction or counsel (i.e., personal or general) does the confessor give? Do you want this? Do you find this helpful? 8. What do you find most beneficial in your reception of the Sacrament of Penance? 9. What do you think is the greatest difficulty in your reception of the Sacrament of Penance? 10. How could the Sacrament of Penance be made more meaning-ful for sisters? 1 I. Are there any changes you would like to make in the physical environment of the confessional (location, type, lighting, acoustics)? APPENDIX B STATISTICAL DESCRIPTION OF SAMPLING Priest-Confessors One hundred and ten questionnaires were ~nailed out to con-lessors o[ sisters. Among the returns were sixty-four completed questionnaires, oue partially completed, one letter stating the con-fessor's views and two letters stating that the confessors concerned were no longer occupied with hearing sisters' con[essions. The sam-pling included priests from seven Canadian provinces and two from the United States with representatives from forty-five towns or cities in twenty-one different dioceses. ÷ ÷ + Conlessions o] Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 Twenty-six priest-confessors were under forty-five years of age and thirty-five were over that age; six failed to state their age. Thirty-two of the sampling were diocesan priests and thirty-two 'were religious priests. Thirteen stated that they were the pastor and/or chaplain of the convent in which they heard confessioa~s, while forty-five were outsiders; two were retreat masters. Table 5 summarizes the size of the convents in which die priests heard confessions. TABLE 5 Size of Convent to which Priest-Con.lessors are Appointed 19 priests heard confessions in convents of 10 or fewer sisters. 12 priests heard confessions in convents of 10-25 sisters. 12 priests heard confessions in convents of 26-50 sisters. 4 priests heard confessions in convents of 51-100 sisters. 4 priests heard confessions in convents of over 100 sisters. ÷ ÷ ÷ I. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. $iste~ M. D$e.0n,i$s., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 Fifty-four priests were involved in hearing the confessions of non-cloistered sisters and five priests were involved in hearing the con-fessions of cloistered sisters. Thirty-three convents to which they were assigned as confessors are in the cities and twenty-two con-vents are located in small towns or villages. Certain discrepancies in the number of responses and the above totals are due to the fact that some priest-confessors failed to answer each requested item on the questionn.aire. Sister-Penitents ' ~ Out of a total of approxim.htely one hundred and sixty question-nalres sent to the sister~, one hundred and thirty-three were ~:e-turned, including thirty-three sister students at the Divine Word Centre. The sampling of one hundred and thlrty-three, although ~redominffntly Canadian, cuts across seven provinces, eight states, and represents sisters in twenty-six dioceses and eighty-one con-vents. The sampling was fairly equally divided according to age groups: sixty-six sisters were over thlrty-five years of age; sixty-six sisters were thirty-five or younger; and the age of one sister was un-known. Tables 6 and 7 indicate the occupations of the sisters and the size of the convents respectively. TABLE 6 Occupations o] Sisters Involved in the Sampling Occupation Cloistered . Teacher . Nurse . Social Worker . Administration . Catechist . Domestic . Missionary . Retired . Student . Novice . Unknown . Number 45 46 71 6 612811 TABLE 7 Size o.f Convents 18 sisters reside in convents of 5 or fewer sisters. 41 sisters reside in convents of 6-12 sisters. 15 sisters reside in convents of 13-25 sisters. 27 sisters reside in convents of 26-50 sisters. 32 sisters reside in convents of over 51 sisters. Eighty-one convents were located in the city; fifty-two in small towns, villages, or in the country. Ninety-one sisters indicated that their confessor was a diocesan priest. In twenty-three cases the priest was the pastor and/or chaplain; in one hundred and ten cases the priest was an outside confessor. " Conlessions o! Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 LADISLAS M. ~RSY, S.J. Chastity in Religious Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., is professor of canon law at the School ol: Theology; Fordham Univer-sity; ~ Bronx, New York 10458. : REVIEW=FOR RELIGIOUS Whenever the documents of the Council refer to conse-crated life and mention the three evangelical counsels, chastity takes priority over poverty and obedience. In establishing this new, .or apparently new order, the fathers of the Council followed an ancient tradition and also ex-pressed better the internal cohesion between the three counsels. They followed an ancient tradition because from the beginning of the life of the Church, consecrated virginity was considered the sign and the fruit of a spe-cial friendship with God. They expressed better the internal cohesion of the three aspects of our consecration, because it is through virginity that a special union is established between God and a human person. Detachment from material wealth in the form of poverty usually follows the charism of virginity. Both charisms can bring greater fruit if they are inserted into the life of the visible Church. This insertion is made through dedication to works of charity in a community, which is in effect consecration in obedience: Among the three, chastity is nearest to charity; it is the most personal expression of our dedication to God. Before any further explanation, it is necessary that I should clarify my own terminology. There are two key concepts which have to be defined. One is chastity, the other is virginity. Chastity is a virtue which disposes us to the observance of God's laws in all matters concerning sexual life. It has to be present in those who are married and in those who are not. When a person abstains from marriage it is fre-quently said that he is practicing perfect chastity, mean-ing that he is abstaining completely from any use of his sexual faculties. The expression can be used provided no one concludes that the virtue of chastity cannot be perfect in married people. The virtue can be perfect in them al-though their abstinence from sexual life is not omplete.1 The term virginity usually means perfect chastity in those who preserve the integrity of their body. One could object to this definition that virginity is conceived too much in a material sense. It would be better to speak about the spiritual.sense of virginity which means dedica-tion to God in perfect chastity with the intention of pre-serving the integrity of mind and body. Christian virgin-ity in the full sense means a permanent state, the permanent integrity of mind, heart, and body for the sake of the kingdom of God. It is a spiritual virtue. It disposes for a deep union with God and it is the fruit of such a union. Its most important aspect is not in the ma-terial integrity of the body--in itself it could not be a sign of Christian virginity--but in the integrity and in the permanent dedication of the person to God in perfect chastity. .In other words, there is not much difference between perfect chastity and virginity, provided "integrity" means the integral dedication of a person in mind, heart, and body to God. They both mean the same. If we want to remain faithful to the tradition of Christian terminology it would probably be better to speak about virginity than chastity. I shall use the expression virginity when I mean perfect chastity. By both I mean the consecration of a human person to God in integrity of mind and body which excludes any use of the sexual faculties. When I speak about virginity, I refer equally to men and women. When the term celibate is used, it is equivalent to virgin. As I shall explain, virginity is a framework, a container, for a union with God. THE BIBLICAL BACKGROUND The inspiration from Holy Scripture for an under-standing of the virtue of virginity comes in two ways: through the express pronouncements of the inspired texts about virginity and through the example of Christ, His Mother, and His disciples. The' biblical doctrine of a deep and experiential union with God is certainly a help to understand virginity better. XThe term perlect chastity is a misnomer; it misleads the un-initiated and does not express well the thought of the specialist in moral theology. It misleads the uninitiated because it seems to imply that perfect chastity cannot exist in marriage. It does not express the thought of the specialist in moral theology, because if perfect chastity can be achieved by the use of the sexual faculties in mar-riage, the complete abstention from the use of those faculties should not be described by the same term. Even if we agreed, however, that the term perIect chastity should-be abandoned for the descrip-tion of the state of celibacy or virginity, time would be still needed for an agreement on the new terminology. + + + Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 605 4. £,adislas M. Or&y, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 606 Some express pronouncements about virginity in the Old Testament can be found in the life of Jeremiah who remained celibate in order to underline his prophecy. In the New Testament the main texts about virginity are in the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. Luke, in the Epis-tles of St. Paul, and in the Apocalypse of St. John. All through the Scriptures there is an ever deepening empha-sis of this virtue. The life of Christ, the,life of the Mother of God, and the lives of many of the Apostles are in them-selves demonstrations of the Christian value of virginity; The biblical doctrine of a deep experiential union with God is of capital importance for the understanding of the virtue of virginity. This union can be so captivating for a human heart that the person does not want to conclude any close union with a human person. The presence of God in him brings about a special fruit: he wants to re-main virgin. I shall speak mainly about the express references of the Bible to virginity, but I shall refer frequently to the union from which virginity originates,u Jeremiah the Prophet The concept of virginity developed gradually. Its earli-est roots are in the Old Testament. Christian virginity is somewhat foreshadowed in the life of Jeremiah. The prophet embraced celibacy and he himself explained the reason for it: The word of the Lord was addressed to me as follows: "You must not take a wife or have son or daughter in this place. For the Lord says. this regarding the sons and daughters to be born in this place, about the mothers who give birth to them, and about the fathers who beget them in tl~is land: They will die of deadly diseases" Uer 16:1-4). Celibacy in the life of Jeremiah was a prophecy by ~ The purpose of this biblical background is not to prove that the state of celibacy or virginity is an excellent way of following Christ, but to recall the biblical teaching for those who believe in the excellency of the gift. The relevant texts are fragmentary and their full meaning may not be immediately evident. The facts reported in the New Testament, such as the virginal life of Christ, the virginity of His Mother, do not lend themselves to lengthy explanations. They all have a pregnant meaning, though, which was clearly understood by the Church from the apostolic times and ex-ternally manifested by the praise of virginity. Within the scope of a short article the explanations of the texts had to be restrained to the most essential points. A detailed and fine analysis of The Biblical Doctrine o! Virginity by Lucien Legrand, M.E.P., is availa-ble in English, published by Sheed and Ward, New York, 1963. I am indebted to the author and grateful for his work. His analyses of the texts of St. Luke are particularly thought-provoking. Father Legrand stresses also the theological idea of virginal ]ecundity, but 15erhaps not enough the immediate apostolic meaning of the scriptural texts on virginity. The strongly apostolic character of virginity appears everywhere included in the meaning of the terms. deed. He was announcing to the people of Jerusalem that the day of judgn3.ent was coming. In order to demonstrate the proximity of the disaster Jeremiah did not take a wife. Through his celibacy he was crying out that the judg-ment of the Lord was coming and that all should be pre-pared for it. His celibacy had a prophetic value. Paul the Prophet The same thefiae is taken up in the New Testament by St. Paul/He is not concerned with the destruction of Jerusalem. He is concerned with the second coming of the Lord, with the universal manifestation of His glory. Paul is so full of hope that he wants to bypass the realities of this present world of shadows in order to center his at-tention on tl~e expectation of the Lord. He writes to the Corinthians: About remaining celibate, I have no directions from the Lord but give my own opinion as one who, by the Lord's mercy, has stayed faithful. Well then, I believe that in these present times of stress this is right: that it is good for a man to stay as he is (1 Cor 7:25-6). The "present times of stress" here is due to the fact that they were in expectation of the Pa~ousia, the day of judg-ment, the day of the manifestation of the power of the Lord. The underlying idea in the statement of Paul is that the very fact that he remains a celibate dec'lares not in words but in a deed that the real permanent values are in a different wgrld. The prophetic, aspect of celibacy is present in Paul's thought. But while Jeremiah was con-cerned in a somewhat negative way with the tem~poral ruin of Jerusalem, Paul is centered on the coming of the eternal kingdom of Christ. Thr6ugh celibacy he declares that this world is to be transformed into a new spiritual universe. Matthew and the Kingdom In the Gospel of St. Matthew the internal relationship between the state of virginity and the kingdom of God is described. The most important passage on celibacy follows the promulgation by Christ of the new law: a man shouId not divorce his wife. Then: The disciples said to him, "If that: is how things are between husband andwife, it is not advisable to marry." But he replied, "It is not everyone who can accept what I have said, but only those to whom it is granted. There are eunuchs born that way from their mother's womb, there :are eunuchs made so by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:10-2). The key concept of the text is that to abstain from marriage receives its full mea.ning when it is done on .I. + + VOLUME 26, 1967 607 ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS behalf.o{ the heavenly kingdom. There is a close relation-ship between the kingdom of Christ and .that state of celibacy or virginity. It is stated also that no one can grasp this gift for himself but it is given to those who are ¯ able to accept what God offers to them. In other words, celibacy is a gift of God. Matthew means by the kingdom of heaven the fulfill-ment of God's promises, the presence of the kingdom foretold by the prophets, announced by John the Baptist, preached by Christ, and to be preached by the Apostles. Celibacy in itself would be empty and without purpose; it receives its meaning through the kingdom. The kingdom means the internal kingdom in the hearts of man and the kingdom to be spread through the preach-ing of the gospel. When a gift is given on behalf of the kingdom, all aspects of the kingdom have to be included. The gift is given to dispose the heart to receive the word of God and to strengthen the person to preach it. Both the sanctifying and the strongly apostolic aspects of virginity are there in Christ's words as reported by Matthew. This kingdom is partially present because Christ is present, and He opened His kingdom to all who repent and are ready to follow Him. It is also to come because the Spirit has not descended, yet on the Apostles and dis-ciples. The concept of virginity in Matthew's Gospel is a complex one: virginity is witnessing present reality and points to a future event. It is the sign of the kingdom present, and of the kingdom to come. The kingdom is present; for its sake one can be celibate. There is no need to wait. At the same time the prophetic value remains, since the fullness of God's promises is still to come. Celibacy points towards the eschatological fullness or per-fection. One could say that in the life of a celibate person reality and prophecy coincide. Virginity is a sign of the kingdom present here and now and of the kingdom to come when Christ appears in His glory. Let us note that virginity is not a condition to enter the kingdom but it is a special gift within the kingdom for., those who can accept it. Matthew makes it clear that he conceives celibacy as a particular gift given by God to some who are following Christ and are disciples of Christ. Not all followers and all disciples will have the same gift. .,In another passage, Matthew reports the saying of Christ that in the resurrection there is no such thing, as marryi~ng or°being given in marriage: For at the resurrection men and women do not marry;~ no, they are like the angels.in heaven (Mr 22:30). o In other words, the state of' virginity is~ the beginning of the same state of life in some whidh will be the ~hare of all who will enter the heavenly kingdom. In heaven there will be no need for procreation because the number 6f the chosen ones will have be~n completed. The king-dom of God will be there in its fullness. Marriage would be purposeless. It follows that the state of virginity is the beginning of the state of imniortality. Through it a person takes up his final status in the kingdom of God. Luke and the Following of Christ Luke leads us even further into the mystery of virginity. For Luke, as for Matthew, the kingdom of God has come with Christ. But Luke gives more thought to the relation-ship of a disciple to Christ; to the union that exists be-tween Christ and His follower." For him virginity is the sharing in a special way of the death and also of the glorification of Christ. Special way here means an indi-vidual vocation, not given to all believers. The most im-portant text is: He said to them, "I tell you solemnly, there is no one wh~ has left house, wife, brothers, parents, or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will noLbe given repayment many times over in this present time and,~in the world to come, eter-nal life" (Lk 18:29-30). He who follows Christ by 1.eaving behind his wife, that is by taking up the state of celibacy, leaves this world and enters another one. He shares the condition of Christ who is leaving this world to enter into the house of His Father. The person who leaves behind hig wife and all that he has in this world shares the death of Christ. Another text from St. Luke proves that this is not an exaggeration: If any man conies to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple (Lk 14:26-7). That is, there is an analogy between leaving behind one's wife and family and taking UP the cross. There is an analogy between celibacf and leaving one's own life and dying with Christ. To follow Christ means to leave this visible and tangible world and the persons or objects most precious to us and to go into an unknown world. To leave behind one's own wife is the sharing in the life of Christ; it is sharing His cross and His death. In Luke's Gospel the theology of: the life of a Christian as life in Christ is emerging. It is necessary to be :unite.d to Christ's cross in order to participate in His eternal life. Finally, as in Matthew's Gospel, in Luke's too, the king-dom has a dynamic character: it has to grow and expand. To become celibate for the kingdom'ssake means to tal~e a share in the building of the kingdg~n, in the saving acts of Christ--celibacy has an apostolic character and finality. + + + Chastity VOLUME 2~, 1.967 609 4- 4- Lad/s/as M. Orsy, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 610 Paul and the Glory o/ Godn The new theme of sharing the glory of Christ through virginity is best expressed by St. Paul in 1 Cot 7:25-39. He does not say that matrimony is wrong. On the con-trary, marriage is good. But he says: I would like to see you free from all worry. An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs,, all he need worry about is pleasing the Lord; but a married man has to bother about the world's affairs and devote himself to pleasing his wife: he is torn two ways. In the same way an unmarried . woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord's affairs;' all she need worry about is being holy in body and spiyit. The married woman, on the other hand, has to worry about the world's affairs and devote herself to pleasing her husband. I say this only~ to help you, not to put a halter round your necks, but simply to make sure that everything is as it should be, and that you give your undivided attention to the Lord (1 Gor 7:32-5). Being holy in body and spit.it: the word holy is the key to the understanding of the text. When Paul uses the expression holy he uses it according tolthe Old Testament tradition. Anything is holy which has been sanctified by God through the presence of His glory and power, For the Israelites Mount Sinai was holy because the glory of God descended on it. The temple of Jerusalem was holy for them because the presence of God overshadowed its internal sanctuary which was called the Holy of Holies. A person who receives the gift of virginity is holy because the power and g~ory of God descended on him, over-shadowed him, and consecrated him. We should try to put ourselves into the mind of Paul. For him the Temple of Jerusalem had no more meaning. The sacrifices of the Old Testament came to an end and the holiness of God left the Temple. Now the holiness of God resides in every Christian and in a particular way in those who received the gift of virginity. Those who re-ceived this special gift are consecrated temples of God. Their lives belong to the. new cult of a new age, the age of the Spirit. They are overshadowed by the divine presence, therefore they are holy. In their lives a new cult, a new liturgy emerges, similar to that which will be the cult and liturgy of the eternal and immortal kingdom of God. In this sense the soul and the body of a celibate person has been assumed into the spiritual kingdom of God. Another approach to the theology of St. Paul on mar-riage and virginity can be made through the ~Epistle to a Xavier L~on-Dufour, S.J.0 published an excellent article on St. Paul's doctrine on marriage and virginity. He shows how in ~the mind of St. Paul marriage belonged to the earthly realities of the kingdom of God, and virginity to the kingdom to come. See "Mar-iage et virginit~ selon saint Paul," in Christus, v. 11 (1964), pp. 179-94. the Ephesians. Since for St. Paul marriage belongs to this transient world and is a temporal institution, it can stand as a symbol or sign of Christ's union with His Church. Paul is taking an earthly reality, marriage, to demonstrate and illustrate a heavenly mystery. Virginity is not an earthly reality, therefore it cannot be taken to illustrate something final. Virginity is a final reality in itself. It is the final state of God's chosen ones. It cann6t serve as a symbol for anything else. There is nothing be-hind a reality which is final. In the virgin the mystery of the resurrection is already present and alive because his soul and body have been consecrated by the Holy. Spirit. Paul states many times that it was the Spirit of the Father who raised Christ from the dead. It is the same Spirit who gives new life to a human person, vivifies him through the gift of virgin.ity, raises him from this world, and gives him the power and glory of the ~vorld to come: The life of virgins has an analogy with the life of God's blessed ones in heaven. , In St. Paul's theology to receive the, gift of virginity means to receive the strength and glory of the Spirit of the Father and of Christ ::in a special way. And the virgin belongs to God precisely because he has received this special gift. The Facts of Our Redemption To the analysis of these many texts a substantialremark should be added: the four Gospels, the Epistles, and the other documents of the New~ Testament.literally~ breathe the atmosphere of virginity. In the center of them is Christ who was virgin. He was born from a woman who remained virgin. Among the Apostles John was whom Jesus loved. John, too, was a virgin. St. Paul, perhaps the most dynamic among the Apostles, declares his intention to remain celibate. In the description of heaven in the Book of the Apocalypse those who are saved are described as virgins. The text witnesses the author's esteemffor the state of virginity:4 Next in my vision I saw Mount Sion, ~nd standing on it~a Lamb who had with him a hundred and forty-four thousan'd people, all with his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads. I heard,a so, und coming o.ut of the sky like the souhd of the ocean or tlie roar of thunder: it seemed to be the sound of harpists playing their harps. There in front of the throne they were singing a new hymn in the presence of the four animals andthe elders, a hymn that could only be learnt by the hundred and forty-four thousand ~ who had been re-deemed from the world. These are ~he ones who have kept their virginity and not been defiled with ~b6men; they follow the Lamb wherever he goes; they have b~n redeemed from amongst men to be the first-fruits for God and fdr the Lamb~ t Cf. Kittel-Friedrich, Th~ologisches Wb'rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, Band V, parthenos, p. 835. ° Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 gll ÷ ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS They never allowed a lie to pass their lips and no fault can be found in them (Ap 14:1-5). THEOLOGICAL REFLECTION Christian virginity is so closely connected with the in-carnation, with the distribution of graces in the Church, and with the presence of eternal life here on the earth that it has something of the nature of a. mystery. There-fore it cannot be fully explained by concepts and defini-tions, although they can be of help. However, images and symbols from our Christian tradition can take over where the notional knowledge ends; and they can convey a deeper understanding of God's gift. Some clear theological principles will help to .prepare the. ground for this understanding: (a) Christian virginity is not identical with divine char-ity. If it were, the kingdom of God would b.e reserved to virgins, and to virgins alone. But the kingdom is open to all men of good will whether they be married or virgins. Since charity is infused into our hearts by the Spirit, every man who is called to live by charity is called to live in the Spirit. Therefore,, the union with the Spirit of God is not the privilege of the virgins. All are called to a divine union. (b) Virginity removes "'some obstacles which might draw a person away [rom the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship, (Lumen gentium, 44). Frankly, this is a negative principle. Yet it has a real meaning. It expresses that virginity is dying to this world in order to be raised to a.nother one. The dying is neces-sary because the internal dynamism of a human person is far from being fully balanced. In many cases it centers on human persons and on temporal care with such an intensity that it is not able to rise to a generous love of God. The mystery of the cross is shining through here. (c) Virginity helps a person to derive more fruit from his baptismal grace. It is not the baptismal grace. Chris-tians are baptized for a life of charity, and not that of virginity. But virginity can help in developing thee bap-tismal grace by creating an internal dynamism which turns a human person fully and continuously toward Christ and eternal life. A human heart can be great enough to love God alone. Virginity introduces a certain alertness and sensitivity to the. inspirations of the Holy Spirit, a certain readiness to follow them. (d) Virginity is the fruit of baptismal grace. There is no spiritual gift which is not rooted in some way in the baptismal grace; in the personal presence of the Spirit in a Christian. Virginity is a special fruit, it is given to some and not to all. The reason for giving it to a de-termined person is hidden at the depth of God's thoughts; we could never find it. Since the gift of virginity is rooted in the baptismal grace, it carries the mark of Christ's death and resurrection. These few theological principles do no more than to clear the ground for further thought. They will also bring some clarity into the coming explanation--or should I say--contemplation of Christian virginity. Man Was Created to Have a Companion To balance the abstract principles it is good to turn to a basic fact of human life. God made man to have a companion. This need is built into a human person's body and soul. It comes from God Himself, and no man can change it: The Lord God said: "It is not good that the man should be alone. I will make him a helpmate" (Gn 2:18). This need is fulfilled in marriage, which is a deep personal union between man and woman. They become one flesh, as St. Paul says; and what is even more impor-tant, they should become one spirit. The physical union of their bodies should be an expression of their spiritual union. Marriage is not perfect unless the union ex-tends to the two persons' mind, heart, and body. When this union exists between a man and a woman, it be-comes so absorbing, so absolute that it excludes any simi-lar union with a different person. There follows the duty of mutual fidelity. Human nature can be enriched by one union, but it is too limited to have a marital union with more than one person. The union in marriage is holy. Christ Himself made it a sacrament. St. Paul has chosen it to be the symbol of Christ's union with the Church. Marriage is in fact so good and so fulfilling for a man or for a woman that it would be unwise to refuse it in ordinary circumstances. It can be wise however to accept a call from a divine Person who promises love and companionship in a way that no human being can give. When God Offers Himself to Be a Companion to a Human Person From the fact that man was created to have a com-panion, now we turn to an existential event. It is the irruption of a new experience into a human life: God offers Himself to be the one and exclusive companion of a man. It happens in a new encounter between God and man; it is the offer of a covenant. It comes from the jealous God of Israel. Let us see its terms.5 ~This experience happens substantially to anyone who decides to take up the state of celibacy or virginity, since no one can do so without first realizing the overwhelming value of a friendship 4- 4- 4- Chastity VOLUME 26, 613 + + + Ladislas M. Orsy, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 Companionship has a special sense here. God is the friend of every Christian, of every human being. Son'/e-times, however, He wants to keep up a special friendship, a refreshing and exhilarating friendship with a human person through a personal conversation or dialogue, through the communication of His kno~wledge and of His love, through union which excludes distractions and too deep roots in this world of shadows. The human person will not be immediately holier for this offer, but he will have a source of holiness if he accepts God's gift in faith and fidelity. The companionship offered carries the seal of God's immensity; He reveals something of His wealth and riches. He does not mislead the person; from the begin-ning it is clear that He is a spiritual being and that His friendship moves on a transcendent plane. What He offers is a communion in His Spirit, the sharing of divine things in a divine way. The offer attracts the whole hu-man person, it appears as satisfying the deepest of human aspirations, It is an experience of God's presence. It is overwhelming. It takes possession of a human person. Jeremiah's words in his confessions could be applied to it: You have seduced me, Lord God, and I have let myself be seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger (Jer 20:7). It is the irruption of divine strength into the life of man. When God concludes this special companionship with a man, any other deep union with a human being, as happens in marrizige, is excluded. The result of God's invitation, or, to use the biblical term, of God's seduction, is that a new type of spiritual union is concluded between God and man. A personal conversation begins and a dia-logue. Knowledge and love are being communicated and man is enriched by it. But, since a human being is lim-ited, he cannot contract a human union, that is marriage, which would in its own way be deep and absorbing, too. Therefore, the right conclusion of this special visitation of God is consecration in virginity. Virginity becomes the fruit of God's call, fi'amework of God's presence, and the best disposition to hear God's words in silence. Through virginity the heart and the mind, the soul and the body are established in a silence, with God. However, this realizatiou may be implicit and inarticu-late, and the person may not be fully aware of it. In a reflexive way he may know only that he wants to be a priest or a nun. But if his vocation is a genuine one, theologically there cannot be any doubt that an inspiration .of the Holy Spirit preceded his desire and that the inspiration was perceived. This obscure and initial encounter with God will have to develop later into a clearer and more penetrating experience of God's presence in a Christian per- SOIl, in a sensitivity, in which communication with God is made easier. No wonder if a man does not want to con-clude a marriage in these circumstances. Of course, God's companionship is spiritual. But the spiritual grace is infused into the whole person, into the soul and the body as one, and it begins to give a new balance to the whole man, including his body. That is why a man who has no companion ac.cording to the law of his nature can appear happy, balanced, and relaxed. The spiritual is holding the material in equilibridm. Return to the Bible: Mary and Paul The specific gift of virginity consists in a particular strength which balances the natural instincts of the body in a spiritual way. There is an experience and there is a new strength infused into a human being. A description of this call and of this communication of strength is given by St. Luke through the words of Mary in the Magnificat. Mary declares in it that she experienced the communica-tion of a particular strength from God which kept her virgin and made her mother. Therefore she is full of joy ¯ and is praising God: And Mary said: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit exults in God my savior; because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, [or the Almighty has done great things for me. "Holy is his name, and his mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear him. He has shown the po.wer of~ his arm, he has routed the proud of heart. He has. pulled down princes from their thrones and ex-alted the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things, the rich sent empty away. He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his mercy according to the promise he made to our ancestors of his mercy to Abraham and to his descendants for ever (Lk 1:46-55). All through the prayer there is a declaration that Mary had an experience, and it was the communication of a particnlar strength from the Spirit of' God. It kept her virgin and made her mother: There is a sense of fulfillment, of elation, of deep gratitude in this prayer. The Creator and His creature found each other in a new relationship. The gift of virginity includes the experience of a new type of union with God which is a communication of strength. Without this experience no one could ever Chastity VOI;UME 26, 1967 Ladlslas M. Orsy, .~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 d~clare that he wished to be a virgin because he simply would not know that God offers this gift to him. Paul also describes the effect of this call and of this communication of strength:; I would lik~ to see you free from all wdi'ry. An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs, all he need worry about is pleasing the Lord; but a married man has to bother about the-world's affairs and devote himself to pleasin~ his wife: be is torn two ways. In the same way an unmarried woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord's affairs; all she need WOrry about is being holy in body and spirit. The married woman, on the other hand, has to worry about the world's affairs and devote herself to pleasing her husband (1 Cor 7:32-4). , What Paul is saying is that the unmarried men and women receive a new freedom to enjoy God's presence-- His glory and His power in them'. Also they: are free to, plan how to bring the good message of the Gospel to others. A new strength frees them from human bonds and gives them divine energy. Living in union with Christ is the ~ift of all the elect. Virginity is the gift of some; it is a framework for this union. About the Union That Gives Life to Virginity The union which is enframed by virginity is the'corn-mon union of all Christians with the thre~ divine Persons. The specific gift of virginity is a certain transparence of this union in our consciousness, an obscure experience of God's personal presence, which is so strong in its weak-ness that it calls a man away from human companionship and installs him in "God's re-creating friendship.No per-son could desire virginity, unless he found another per-son who is more lovable than any man. The union with God takes place on a spiritual level; it is not a material communication. It strengthens the spirit of the human person who receives it, but in no way fulfills his natural desire to be one with a human com-panion. Yet, it makes the man whole, and the spiritual abundance that he receives reverberates in the body so much that there is a decreasing sense of frustration 'and an increasing experience of fulfillment for the whole person. Natural instincts do not die, but they begin to learn to give way to new impulses which come from the Holy Spirit. In other terms, God gives a spiritual gift, but this gift is never transformed into a material medi-' cine, The physical and psychological laws of human nature remain in operation; ther~ is no miracle. An example will illustrate my thought. When the. Holy Spirit inspires a person to take up fasting for the sake of the kingd6m, for some spiritual g6od, the Spirit is not promising that the person ~oncerned will not be hungry. He will be. The Spirit is effectively pledging Himself only to give a new spiritual strength that helps to bear the hunger for some greater good. However, the spiritual strength will balance the whole person and may make him happy and relaxed even if hungry--provided the fasting remains within the limits of prudence. Similarly, the spiritual union with God from which virginity originates does not fulfill the desires of the body. They remain unfulfilled. But the Holy Spirit lifts the whole man into another, spiritual world where the grace of God enriches even the body. Virginity ls an Anticipation of the Grace of Our Resurrection With the Resurrection of Christ and the coming of the Holy Spirit, God's glorious kingdom entered into our human history. With the dawn of the first Christian Easter and with the day of the first Christian Pentecost, a new glorious age began, an age that God the Father had prepared from all eternity, revealed through His Son, and perfected by the sending of His Spirit. In this new age, to which we belong, immortal glory and power is being distributed among the children of men through the Holy Spirit. Heaven meets earth, eter-nity joins time. The grace of virginity, as it springs from charity, belongs to this age. Those who are baptized in Christ died in their baptism with Him and were raised from the dead in Him. The glory and power of His Resurrection is on them; it heals them, strengthens them, and makes them long for the manifestation of the glory of the children of God that is hidden now. The gift of virginity is a small share in the glory of the risen Christ. St. Paul says that the body of Christ was vivified by the Spirit; the Resurrection was the infusion of the strength of the Spirit into the inert body of Christ. The grace of virginity is the infusion of the strength of the Spirit into a mortal man, the infusion of a spiritual strength that makes the body more alive than it ever was; alive with a new spiritual strength in a new spiritual kingdom. Virginity is the sharing of the grace of the risen Christ, a small anticipation of our own resurrection, a spiritual grace that vivifies the body, the manifestation of the hidden glory of God's children. Hence the transformation. Those who are virgins are anxious about the affairs of the Lord. The point of gravi-tation of their life is in a new world. Hence the spiritual alertness of the whole person to the inspirations of the Spirit, the sensitivity of new light and fuller love. The eternal kingdom of God is present in this temporal ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ + Ladislas M. Orsy, ~ S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 618 world; the divine gift is carried in a container made from clay; This circumstance does not change the nature of the gift, but it :should make the person who ,received it cautious. Virginity Is a Dynamic Virtue The gift 0f virginity could be easily conceived as a static, perfectly finished gift, which once given stays with the person forever, provided he does not willingly lose it or destroy it. Nothing is further from the truth. The parable of the mustard seed applies to virginity, as to any other Christian virtue. In the beginning it is a small seed: it needs the. evangelical good soil to grow and to develop. As a young plant it is tender ~ind sensitive: it needs help and protection. But when it grows into a large tree it can stand alone, it can weather the storm, and it can give shelter to many. The dynamic character of the virtue of virginity is rooted in our union with the Trinity. The union is not a' static gift. Once given, it is there to develop steadily. The impact of God's presence on the life of a Christian should continuously increase; the love of God that was infused into his heart should help him to grow into the full stature of Christ. Since virginity originates in this union, it has the same dynamic character as the union. The union of the Virgin Mary ,~ith the Holy Spirit was perfect; therefore the strength of her virginity was perfect too. A similar law applies to other human beings: the strength of their union with God is reflected in the strength of their virginity--if they received this gift. No exception is 'possible: virginity cannot be stronger than the union. It will be plain human and Christian wisdom to draw th& practical consequences. There are no two persons who are equally gifted, there are no two persons who are equally strong. Each one should honestly assess his gift and live accordingly. When the good seed of virginity. is sown into a human nature which is full of emotional turmoil and imbalances, the seed can be killed easily-- Christ our Lord says so. The growing plant will need care and attention. If it is not given, the plant may perish. But what wise man would build a wall to protect a strong, fully grown tree? The tree should stand free so that the weary pilgrims on their way to the new Jerusalem can see it from afar and can find shelter and protection. under its strong branches. ¯ The wisdom in preserving virginity is in sensing and following the progress indicated by the Spirit. To seek too much human fulfillment while the gift of virginity is taking.root may cut short a developing special friendship with God. The, friends of God were always trained and tested in some sort of desert, It may have been symbolic, it may have been spiritual, but desert it was. It can be bypassed only in the imagination of some, neverin real-ity. Not even Christ bypassed it. But when the gift of virginity develops, it is a light that has to shine, it is leaven that has to be put into the mass, it has to sanctify our world. Therefore, apart from par-ticular and specialized vocations, the virgins should meet the people of God and talk to them about the kingdom: that it is here. They should announce the good news in a loud voice (the Gospel uses the expression, "on the rooftop"), and they should ~ommunicate the love and charity that is in them to every human being. Such bibli-cal ideas should help wit.h the problem of the revision, of the law of enclosure or the involvement of consecrated persons in this world. To enclose a light can be a sin against the Spirit, Some will ask, no doubt, is there not a danger that the light might be extinguished sometimes? There is such danger and it can be taken for granted that there will be lights which will fall victim of the darkness: But.the answer is not in enclosing all the lights behind strong walls, but in letting even more lights to shine so that the world can see the sign of God's presence on the earth. The aim and purpose of consecrated virginity is to make the communication of God's love easier. Virginity has a meaning only "for the sake of the kingdom"-Zthe kingdom to be spread. To make the preaching and the teaching of the kingdom more difficult for those who are consecrated persons is to reverse the hierarchy of Chris-tian values. It would mean to imprison the love of God for the sake of precautions. Virginity in ordinary circum-stances is given for the sake of better dedication to an apostolic task, for a better communication of graces. The Aposiolic Finality o[ Virginity The value of virginity is not in itself. It is in its rela-tionship to our union with Christ and to His kingdom. Virginity is like good soil [or the union: those who are not married are anxious to be holy in body and spirit, and they are anxious about the affairs of the Lord (see 1 Cor 7:34). Every Christian is a disciple and an apostle of His Master. It follows that the union that he has with Christ has to be deepened and has to :be communicated to others. .It is in this~ communication that the apostolic finality of virginity comes to the fore. Not in the simple and somewhat crude, sense alone that because a virgin has no family, he is therefore free in time and space to meet others. Nor only in the sense that he can be better dedi- + + + VOLUME 26, 1967 619 cated. True, when it is a question of going to foreign lands or to persons afflicted with contagious diseases the celibate priest is in a better position than the married one. Yet, the substance of the question is not there. It is in the intensity of God's love that can develop in a virgin and can be communicated with a freedom that only virginity can give. This freedom is primarily in-ternal: God's message flows through a humanmind and heart and is not interfered with by our human ways of thinking and doing. The union given to a Christian is a dynamic gift: it has to be communicated--the kingdom has to expand. Virginity is the best vehicle given for this expansion. It is thus that the saying of Christ about celibacy "on behalf of the kingdom" receives its full meaning: it includes the spreading 9f the kingdom. Therefore, seclusion within a cloister or an enclosure remains a specific vocation: holy and legitimate, blessed and praised by the Churcl~, but not ordinary. The com-mon evangelical rule is that the virgin and the celibate has the vocation to facilitate the propagation of the king-dom. Any other interpretation would suffer from an in-ternal contradiction. The cult of virginity is valid in the context of apostolic life: it is given to facilitate the com-munication of God's message. I say this with profound respect for those who have a different vocation and have to serve God within the cloister. Their virginity exists to carry an intense prayer life and to serve the kingdom's cause through prayer. It is through prayer that the apostolic finality of virginity is fully present there. + + + Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Community Life and Consecrated Virginity It is natural that those human persons who receive the special gift of virginity like to come together and like to form a community. Such a community itself should be marked by the virtue of virginity in its internal relations among the members and also in its external relations with others. Internally, within the community, the gift of virginity should free each of the members from human anxieties and make him more able to spread the love of God. Therefore personal communications should be easier and more relaxed than in any other type of community. The purpose of the members should be the introduction of each other into the mystery of the union with God. We come back to the same principle: the meaning of virgin-ity is to increase the love of God and the expansion of it. Practical consequences abound. Overstressed silence can paralyze this communication, and so can restrictive prac-tices in matters of meetings and correspondence among the members of the same religious institute. Such prac- ticds have an opposite purpose to the one that God has given to virginity. Virginity is given to free the person, even externally in human relations, and not tobuild a wall round him. Also the way of life of the community should reflect the impact ¯ of the grace of virginity on them as a .community. It should favor a delicate sensitivity to grace which is so characteristic for virginity. The community should have an integrity of mind and spirit in all common actions, an integrity that is a dedication to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit. Briefly, the atmosphere in the community should favor an all pervading union with God. Happiness and relaxa-tion are of primary importance in creating a common disposition for God's grace. Strains and tensions are probably the most common impediments to God's work-- even if strains and tensions are the result of common ob-servance. The human faculties become paralyzed and are not able to perceive God's graces, still less able to sustain a loving attention to Him. Man is a social being, and can-not be anything else. By renouncing the close companion-ship of marriage, he is not renouncing his social being. Therefore, he needs a happy and relaxed community life with all the freedom that virginity can add to it. If any-thing, the ~gift of {,irginity makes a person more social than he ever was: it opens him up to all. The spirit of friendship is favored in a good commu-nity. And in saying this, I am moving on biblical grounds, and I am faithful to Catholic traditions. Nowhere in the Bible is friendship condemned; it is praised in many places, and it is present in the lives of many good persons. The history of the Church is full of the history of great friendships; There cannot be a healthy relationship with God without a health); relationship with human friends. However, in 'individual cases the natural and super-natural resources that a person has should be taken into account. If someone is strongly rooted in God's grace, friendship becomes a source of grace too. If someone is not sutfi-ciently rooted in God's love, the balance of natural in-stincts and supernatural gifts is precarious in him, and he may approach the best opportunity for friendship with a confused mind and unruly emotions. Each co.mm.unity, as each person, needs wisdom to know the limitations of its strength. They need determination to protect them-selves when it is necessary, .and supernatural courage to discard unnecessary restrictions. The friendship of those who are consecrated persons can be best described as the friendship of travelers. They all go and look in the same direction. The friendship + + + ~lmstity VOLUME 26, 1967 6~1 Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 622 between a man and a woman which develops into mar-riage can be described as the friendship of dwellers. They look at each other. A sign of a good friendship is also that it does not have a sl~irit of exclusiveness. On the contrary, it wants to expand. The friends are eager to share what they have with many others. The better friends they are, the less they are involved with each other. They are in-volved together in others. Perhaps this is the place to mention that virginity can be destroyed by overprotection. A virgin renounces mar-riage, but he does not renounce social and commun, ity life. If, in order to protect virginity, genuine and happy social relations are destroyed, a person is deprived of one of his most basic human needs and native rights. There-fore, a fundamental sense of frustration is bound to arise in him causing tension and unhappiness. This may lead to the conviction that he had no vocation to virginity, which in these circumstances would be a false conclusion. However, since the frustration persists, a young man may leave the seminary, or a young woman may give up re-ligious vocation. The gift of virginity was destroyed by misguided good will. It does not follow in any way that sentimental and futile social relationships should be fostered: it is toward health that we aim and not to a new type of illness. A community of consecrated persons will have to consider also what the right balance should be in its relationship with those who do not belong to the community. The greater the impact of grace on the community and the closer its union with God, the less enclosure they will need; the less the community is rooted in union with God, the stricter the enclosure ought to be. It could also be said: the happier the community, the less restrictions are needed, because the internal happiness will anchor every person to the community and will ca.ll him back when he is away from it. But it will take a barrage of rules to keep an unhappy community together, since all natural (and even supernatural) forces will pull the per-sons away from it. The Gift of Virginity: Sanctification of the Person, Sanctification of the Church Virginity could be looked at as a purely personal gift, given for the sanctification of an individual. True, vir-ginity could exist without being inserted into the ex-ternal, visible life of the Chur.ch, in fact, without the Church knowing about the gift at all. A person is fully entitled to accept the gift of God and remain silent about it. Virginity could be looked at also as a gift for the sake of the others only. A sign that leads others to eternity, but which is not for the sanctification of the one who received it. Both approaches are one-sided. All gifts in the Church are for both, the sanctification of the person who receives it and for the good of the whole Church. Abraham be-came the friend of God and the forefather of all believers. David was chosen to be a king according to Yahweh's heart and to fulfill an historic mission through consolidat-ing the union of the twelve tribes of Israel. The gift of the Spirit in Mary made her the immaculate and holy Mother of God. The Apostles were chosen for a mission, and they became the close friends of Christ, sanctified by His Spirit. The two aspects cannot be separated, or only on a notional level. Speculating about essences one can cer-tainly say that a grace is given for the sanctification of the person only, or for the good of the community only. But in God's existential approach such separation can hardly exist. A grace given to an individual immediately flows out to sanctify the Church, and the grace given for the welfare of the community touches first the heart of the person who receives it. Lamp without Light The essence of virginity is that it carries our fragile union with God. It protects, it defends, it shelters this union. The tragedy whicli may happen to some who are consecrated virgins is that the virginity is there but the union remains lifeless: there is no dynamic growth and development in it. The framework exists, the content is too weak. Such a person is like a lamp with no light. Consequently he does not radiate light; he leaves his surroundings in darkness. This is a tragedy that could happen to a consecrated person. He may keep the integrity of heart and body but at the same time his internal life will not know the light and love of the Holy Spirit. Frequently, he will take ref-uge in an extreme legalism. In such a case virginity is nearly meaningless. It could not be called a true sign. The essence of a sign is that it connects two persons or connects persons with different places and objects. An empty virginity does not connect anyone with eternal life. The lamp has to be filled with oil to give light. Conclusion It is easier to see now why virginity has the primacy in our religious consecration. Through virginity a special bond is established between God and man: they become companions. The grace of virginity is a spiritual grace; yet it vivifies the body and gives a new balance to it. + + + Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 Therefore it is the anticipation of the grace of resurrec-tion, the manifestation of the otherwise hidden glory of the children of God. The other aspects of our consecra-tion follow virginity. A human person who entered a, new; glorious, and spiritual world through virginity will not want to be the slave of material and temporal things. He will vow freedom by professing poverty. Also he will recognize the living Christ in the Church; and, as a rule, he will ask for a deeper association with the visible Church by dedicating himself to works of charit~ in a religious community. In this way he will share the glory of the risen Christ, and he will do the saving work of the mortal Christ. .' ' + 4- Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GEORGE B. NINTEMANN, O.P. Penance: Sacrament of Poverty Here is the message of the Amen, the faithful, the true witness, the ultimate source of God's creation: I know all ab6ut you: how you are neither hot nor cold. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewhrm, I will spit you out of my mouth. You say to yourself, "I am rich, I have made a fortune, and have everything I want," never realizing that you are wretchedly and pitiably poor, and blind and naked too. I warn you, buy from me the gold that has been tested in the fire to make you really rich, and white robes to clothe you and cover your shameful nakedness, and eye ointment to put on your eyes so that you are able to see. I am the one who reproves and.disciplines all those he loves: so repent in real earnest. Look~ I am.~standing at the dqor, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal, side by side with him. Those who prove victorious I will allow to share my throne, just as I was victorious myself and took my place with my Father on his throne. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches? What was the Spirit saying to the churches (vhen He inspired the author of Revelation to "write to the angel of the church in Laodicea"? In essence it was the spirit of the 'anawim, the spirit of poverty. "You say to yourself, 'I am rich, I have made a fortune, and have everything I want,' never realizing that you are wretchedly and pitia-bly poor, blind and naked too." Laodicea, the last of the seven Apocalyptic cities, was renowned for its wealth which made it doubly hard to practice the spirit of-pov-erty. Here is how it is described: With banks so illustrious that Cicero selected Laodicea to cash his letters of credit, with a medical school so famous as to have the names of its doctors on coins and its eye oint-ments exported throughout the Mediterranean world, with demands for its soft violet-black glossy wool giving it a steadily aAp 3:14--22 (All scriptural quotations appearing in this article are from the Jerusalem Bible unless otherwise noted). George B. Ninte-mann, O.P., writes from St. Albert's Priory; 2833 32nd Avenue South; Min-neapolis, Minnesota 55406. VOLUME 26, 1967 625 4. 4. 4. George B. Nintemann, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 626 growing market for tunics, a perspective for spiritual goods would easily go out of focus.~ To understand and apprecia.te tl,)e spirit of the "anawim we have but to consult the magnificent work of Father Albert Gelin, P.S.S., The Poor of Yahweh. In his [ore-word to the English translation Father Barnabas M. Ahem, C.P.,~ another authority on the 'anawim theme, has these laudable words to say: Of all that Father Gelin wrote, The Poor O] Yahweh will probably live longest in the minds of men. He here develops a theme which looms large in modern study of the spirit of the Bible. He treats of the "anawim, "the poor and needy," who rise out of the pages of the Old Testament as the true people of God. The pattern of their holiness forms the blue-print for the Scriptural portrayal of the great saints of Israel: MoseS, Samuel, Jeremiah, Anna and Judith. The voice of the 'anawim is resonant in the prayerful pleading of the songs of the Psalter. Their spirit fills the souls of the ho!y ones in the New Testament: Joseph and Mary, Zachary and Elizabeth. In the Matthean form of the Beatitudes, the "anawim model of holiness is described and codified as the ideal Ch'ris~ian character.' Father Gelin sur~marizes his study with these sigi~i~icant words: We b~ve tried to give a concrete description of this mystical lineage o{.:Israel, so anonymously eloquent in the psalter, but which also inciudes famous names like Jeremiah the author of the book of Job, and above all Mary, the lowly maid who at the threshold of the New Covenant recapitulates all the spiritual depths of the'. Old. Poverty thus understood is a modality of faith. It is abandoned, trusting and joyous, closely akin to humility~ It shows itself in an attitude of religious waiting'. Th~ beatitude of the poor in Matthew's Gospel is fo- Cused on this fundamental disposition, and its various aspects are continued in the critique of pharisaism so central in the . Gospel, as well as in the parable of the children, which is, as it were, the antithesis of this critique. These two poverties, effective poverty and spiritual poverty, are concretely connected. Historically the second is rooted in the first. As a matter of fact, to enable spiritual poverty to flourish, the Essenians bound themselves by a vow of poverty.~ And Christ confirmed what tradition had discovered. None of these biblical lessons were nor should be lost. Without pre-tending to extract from the Bible an economic treatise, we have no right to forget the social results of its religious principles. Jesus did not claim to organize the world, but he was actually speaking tomen of flesh and blood and we knox4"where His preferences led. Evangelical poverty, as He practiced it, continues in the ~William G. Heidt, O.S.B., The Book oI the Apocalypse (Col-le~ eville: Liturgical Press, 1962), p. 46. ~See Cross and Crown;~ 1959, pp. 278-91 (reprinted in Barnabas M; Ahem, C.P., New Horizons [Notre Dame: Fides, 1965], pp, 46- 61). ~ Albert Gelin, P.S.S., The Poor ol Yahweh (Collegeville: Liturgi-cal Press, 1964), p. 6. ,~ Church as an unmistakably clear sign of an understanding of His spirit.~ The sinner is truly a poor man, one who is in need of God's loving help. This loving help has merited the special word mercy. "God, be merciful to me a sinner," is the cry of this poor man. The tremendous need .which the sinner has of God:s help can be gathered from the traditional Christian pedagogy of speaking of sin in terms of death. This utter helplessness strikes us whene~er we kneel before the re-mains of a loved one. Only God could restore life to the stilled bodyI And the same is true of the one who is dead in sin; of himself he is powerless. For his revival he must become another son of Naim touched by' the love of mercy incarnate. No one seems to question the mortal sinner's need for God's mercy. But not a few seem to close their eyes to the need which all sinners have; that is, there seems to be a relu~c'tance to approach the sacrament of mercy unless one is guilty of something serious.It is hoped that a considera-tion of the sacrament of penance in .the spirit of the "anawim will brin. g about a certain reevaluation, or at least ~ome Second thoughts. Perhaps some of the i.nsensitivity to the' sacrament of penance can be traced back to a distorted notion of what a sinner really is. For some it seems that,, a sinner is synonymous with one who is guilty of sin. Th~ sense of guilt has clonded the sense of sinfulness. Could it be more than only slightly significant that the publican prayed, "God, be merciful to me a sinner," rather than, "God, be merciful to me because I have sinned?.~' The point that is trying to be made is t~ha, t although one may not be guilty of sin here and now h~ is still a sin'ner. Being a sinner is the very essence of our. human condv tion: "You know I .was born guilty, ~ Sinner from~the moment of conception" (Ps. 50). And St. John writes in his first letter: If we say we have no sin in u~, ,we are deceiving ourselves and refusing to admit the truth; but if we acknowledge our sins, then God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and purify us from everything that is wrong. To say that we have never sinned is to call God a liar and to show that his word'is not in us." Father Louis Monden, S.J., in Sin> Liberty, and Law, has this to say regarding the sinful condition: Generally it is only when every support of" his own being falls away that man consents to abandon his reliance on self and to appeal to God in a liberating "Thou." Frequently the VOLUME 26, 1967 Ibid., pp; 111-3. 1 Jn 1:8-10. + George B. N intemann; ~ O .P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brutal, humiliating shock of sin is for man the only way out of' the illusion of his complacency and the myth carefully nurtured by social conventions of his respectability and decency. But it is not the 'mere fact of sin which produces the shock, but the shattering impact of th~it fact on the illusion of virtue and irreproachability in which he was living and the ensuing awareness of sin. An awareness of sin which is at the same time the awareness of his own dereliction, the experience of his own inability to stand before God by his own power, the sense of his sinful involvement with the evil of the whole of humanity in which he is trapped, and the realization of his utter unworthiness to be loved by God. At the exact moment when he sins that awareness cannot be present. It would make sin impossible. Only detested sin, sin redressed by contrition, can feed that awareness and transform it into a conscious need for salvation and the welcoming of grace . That a man begins to feel himself more and more a sinner as be commits fewer sins is not based upon a pious exaggera-tion or illusion. It only demonstrates that sin is the lowest stage in a process of experiencing his distance from God and his unholiness in the presence of God's love which in the saint turns in a more undivided way. But this is an accepted despair which involved a total expropriation of self and a complete submersion, in the midst of one's helplessness, in the saving and sanctifying mercy of Gbd. Thus no one has been more deeply aware of the need for redemption, no one further removed from every kind of pharisaical pride, than lvlary, who was wbolly without sin. Precisely because of her spotless purity she was the most completely surrendered to God and became likewise the most fully understanding of all human dereliction, the "refuge of sinners." ~ It is worth repeating that being a sinner and being guilty of sin are not the same. One who is guilty of sin is obviously a sinner but the reverse is not necessarily true. The sinner-condition, in the wide sense in which we are thinking of it, is simply the creature-condition. What follows then is that one is in need of God's mercy not ?nly until he is washed of his sins in the sacrament of penance but until he is completely raised with Christ in glory. We ~a~re.in 'need of God's mercy until the day of final resurrecuon. The whole man, body and ;Soul, must enter into the Passover mystery. A confusion on this point seems to be evident in the way in which many penitents approach the sacrament of penance and make their accusation. Most often it is a matter of what one has done rather than what he is be-cause of what he has done. The idea seems to be prev-alent that sins are forgiven rather than the sinner. Sins seem to be looked upon as some sort of undesirable baggage which 0n~ leaves in the confessional rather than a change in one's personal relationship with his heavenly Father. And the resultant forgiveness is looked upon as the taking away of sins in the sense that one's garbage is taken away rather than the gesture of our heavenly ~ Louis Monden, S.J., Sin, Liberty, and Law (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), pp. 149-50. Father loving us even though we are sinful. The figure of the father in the parable of the prodigal , son imme-diately comes to mind; he,loved his son in spite of his wretchedness and with his unfaithfulness, he loved him simply because he was Iris son; he forgave and overlooked his past but he did not change it! This is God's attitude toward us in the sacrament of penance: He accepts us with our sins and sinfulness~ the very mystery of divine forgiveness. Our heavenly Father loves us simply because we~ are, His sons. The notion which we are "trying to express is closely associated with the scriptural ~notion of hamartia. Father Bernard Hiiring, C.Ss.R., explains it well: The biblical, hamartia is no~ merely the single sinful act, but also the evil condition resulting from it, the state or condition of perdition, the, evil disposition and attitude which is estrangement from God. What is dreadful is not merely the sin as an act, but the personal root, the evil disposition from which further individual sins (of course, through free consent of the will) grow. Conversion means conquest of the old man of sin, held captive by sin (this is the carnal existence, the existence through the flesh, the sarx), in order to attain a new ahd spiritual (pneumatic) form of life created and guided by the spirit of God. The convert must renounce every sin, not merely any and every sinful act, and every habitual sinful action, but first and foremost the whole mpde of his existence. His heart must be changed. He must be entirely transformed in disposition and inner attitude. Obviously man is not equal to this task if he relies on. his own resources: one who is estranged from God, far off from Him, dan be brought ,back to God only if God Himself comes to him with His grace. Hence, to turn from perdition, from the loss of God and the loss of salvation, which are inherent in the state of sin, one must unreservedly accept the dominion of God which comes to man in Christ through the spirit of God. ~ The first thing that man can contribute toward his con-version is the acknowledgement.that he has not merely done evil deeds, committed sins, but that he hirhself is evil; that he stands in need of redemption and complete spiritual trans-formation? It is no understatement to say that many Christians lack a proper understanding of sin and sinfulness. For too many of them Christ is not really seen as a Savior, at least a Savior here and now; it is more an attitude of He will sav

Issue 44.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1985. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, M O 63108-3393. REvlEw FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by REVlEW FOR R ELIG~OU~ Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR REt,tGtOUg P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1985 Volume 44 Number 3 Manuscripls. books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent Io REVIEW F'OR RELtGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVtEW t'OR RELt~tOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. LoUIs, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. The Charism of Peter at the .Service Of Unity In an ex.change.of Ch~stmas gceetlngs with his "b~:other~ and collaborators" of the Roman Curia, Pope John opaul II reflected at length about the Church and about his niinistry in the Church. The text is based upon the translation of L'Osservatore Romano, 21 January, 1985, pp. 6ft. Dominiasprope est (The Lord is n~arl Ph-4:5). The celebration of Christmas, now fit hand, h~is brought us together once again for this fine custom of exchangin~g good wishes.'.~With minds filled With gratitude we ~repare to kneel before the crib along with the sh'epherdg during this Holy Night, near which the '~Vir~in Mother," proclaimed by'the prophet Isaiah ('Is 7:14), keeps watch with ~ageraffe~ction. 'We knowthat in this fragile Infant still unable to ~peak thei-e comes to me~ us the Etet:nal Word'of'God, ttie uncreated Wisdom Who rulesthe univd~se. He is the Light of God who "shines in darkness," as the Apostle Jdhffsays--adding'immediately with bitter realism: "But the dark-ness did not accept it." L~ght and darkness confront each Other before the manger in which that Infant lies: the.light of truthaffd the darkness of error.°It is a confrontation which does not admit of neutrality. Each one must ChoOse which side to take. It is a choice in which each stakes his 6r her future. The Infant of the Crib, become an adult, will one day say: "If~ou live according to my teaching, you are t~rul~ my disciples; then you willkhow the trfttl, and the trtith will set you free" (Jn 8:31 ff.). ~ ' ~ " The Woi'd of God, in becoming flesh in order to fiaak'e his dwelling among us (see Jn 1:14), comes to bring us the inestimable gift of the knbwledge of the truth: the truth about him,~nd the tr~iii~abotit us and about our transcendent ,destiny. Man cannot.build up himself or his free~io~n~ except on the foundation of this truth. It is therefore a~ exir~meiy'precious girl, one to be safeguarded 321 322 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 and defended. The loss of even a part 0f that integral truth beating in the heart of the Infant "wrapped in swaddling clothes" in the manger would mean that man puts at risk the full realization of himself to a greater or lesser degree. The Church, knowing herself to be the depository and guardian of this truth, is aware of this. She therefore feels invested with a special mission, one which makes her the duty-bound subject of a special service to humankind. To each generation newly arrived to inhabit the earth must she reveal the marvelous plan that God has prepared in his only Son, a plan which will benefit every. child of man who is willing to accept in faith the wonderful initiative of God's love. For this reason the Church, and in her especially the Roman See of Peter, keeps watch at the cradle of Bethlehem. She keeps watch so that these trans-cendent values which the Creator has offered to humankind--truth and free-dom in truth, which is to say love--may not be obscured, much less distorted. She keeps Watch so that, despite all opposing currents, these values may be constantly revivified and be ever more affirmed in the lives of individuals and of families in both the Christian and civil communities and thus in the life of the entire human family. The Church has both a complex and.~unified,awareness of thes~e valpes, as has been emphasized in a well-known passage of the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen Gentium, the twentieth anni~,ersary of which occurred just a month ago (November 21). Paragraph 13 of this fundamental conciliar document recalls the Church's attitude with regard to "the abilities, the resources and customs" proper to the variety of peoples. The Church sees in them "gifts" which the various cultures bring to h~er, and she is therefore happy to take them to herself, even though she is committed to purify, strengthen and elevate them. In p~a. rticular, for the sake of that character of uniyersality, which adorns and distinguishes her, the Church is mindful that she must harmonize these "gifts," bringing them into a higher unity :so that they may cOntribute to the progressive affirn~, afion of the one kingdom of Chi'ist. And hence it is that "in virtue of this catholicity each individual part contributes through its special gifts to the good of the other parts and of the whole Church. Through the common sharing,of gifts and through the common¯ effort to attain fullness., in ~unity, the whole'and each of the pa~s receive increase." . o There is more. Continuing along this line of.thought, the text pres~ents a ¯ fundamental thesis of Catholic ecclesiology. It p.oints out that '.'within the Church particular churches hold a rightful place; these chhrches ream their own traditions, without in any way,.0pposing the primacy of the~Chair of Peter, which presides over the whole assembly of charity and protects~ legitimate differences, while at the same time assuring that such differen~s do .not hinder unity but rather contribute toward it." It would be difficult to expre~ss tills any, more cl~ariy c~r profou'ndly: the universal Church is present~ed ~s a ~ o.mmunion of (p~articular) chu~rches and indirectly as a communion of nations, languages and cultures. Each of these. The Charism of Peter at the Service of ~]nity / 393 churches: brings°its own "gifts" to the whole, just as individual scientific and'~ socihl conquests, as also'the goals of civilization as these are gradually achi, eved, all. make their contribution. Pluralism in the ChurCh So m~h emphasis is given today to ttie "special" Christian experiences of particular church~s in the socio-cultural context in which ehch of them is called to live. These specific experiences--it is stressed---con~rn the Word of God as this is to be .read and understood in the light of the data which emerges from one's existential jofirney. They concerti liturgicalfprayer, which must draw from the c~ltfire to which belong the s*gns, acuop~s and words used m adora-uon, worsh|p and celebrat|on. These experiences concern the theological reflectmn which~ m .turn must have an influence on categories of thought typical' of each ~ulture. And Anally the~ special experience~ concern.~ecclesi~ii' communion itself, which is rooted in the Eucharist, but whose concrete devel-opme~ n~t ~lepend~ on ihe historico-t~nporal condiii6ns which derive from it~ insertion into~the ambience oi" a particular country or of a specific region bf.the world. These are. int~erestmg pei'spectives" because 9f ihe lines of theologicai inves-tigation ,which they seem to open regarding the unfathomable mystery ?f the Cil~urch, ahdeven more because of the possibilities they offer to the°faithful to p~'r~ivg~nd to own ever more fully ihe immense ~ch~s of the new life broughi~ by Christ. ~ But these_ ar~e perspectives which, in order tc~i be fruitful, presume respect for affinescapable Condition: Such ekperiences must not be li~,ed separatei~ or independently of, much less in oppositton to experiences hved by churches ~n oiher par~s of~the world. In order to be constituted as authentic experiences of Church,~(hese entail the necessity of being in har~mony with those ~,hich othe~ Christian~ intouch with other cultural contex(s fe~l called to live in order to be faithful to the requirements which flow fromthe one identical mystery of Ch~s~. This affirmation touches a central°point of Catholic ecclesiology and bears rgeapl"e atetinrd~egn. c~i'eos ~insd cuolgnetr ainrY " itsoo l,tahtieo encisc{le's(o~roileongtya tOi0fn st'h, eb rS eecvoennd t oV faat~,coarn " cCepnutrnicfud-.' In, its paragraph 13, cited above, Lumen G~ntium stresses the possibilities. inherent in a wholesome pluralism. However, it also very clearly, specifies' its limits. True pluraligm is never a divisive factor, but an element whichcontrib-_o ute~ to the building up of unity Within the universal commur~ion of the Church. Communion of Minds, Communion of Hearts - In fact, there exists among individual particular churches an ontological relationship of mutual inclusion. Each particular church, as the realization of~ the ore Church of Christ, is in some way present in all the particular churches "in and from which churches comes into being the one and ohly Catholic 324/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 Church" (LG 23).~ This ontological relationship must be carried over onto the dynamic level of its concrete life, if the Christian community does not want to enter into contradiction with itself. The basic ecclesial choices of the faithful of a community must be able to harmonize with the choices of the faithful of other communities so as to give rise to that communion of minds and hearts for which Christ prayed at the last Supper: ~. as you, Father. are i~h me, and I in you~' ! pray tti~they may be [one] in us . tha~t their unity may be compli~te" (Jn 17:21, 23). A particular task bf the Apostolic She consists precisely in serving thik universalunity. Indeed, it'is here that the ~specific office and, we may even say, the charism 6f Peter and his successors lie. Was it not to him that Christ said before the dark night of betrayal: "I have pray6d for you that your faith may never fail. LYou in turn must strengthen, your brothers" (Lk 22:32)? lnd~ed he is the "~ock" on whichChrist willed~to build his Church (see Mt 16:18). It is precisely°fi:o~m the foundation' that the iniegrated si"rength of the efitire edifice is expected. For" this reason, in a dialogue charged with pathos' ,.afte~ the ~esu,rrection, Jestis left to Peter the demanding responsibility: "Feed my lambs . feed my sheep" (Jn 21:15ff). Certainly, the one Supreme Shepherd is the Incarnate Word, Christ the Lord~ And so, with spontaneous fervor the pope'makes h~s own,the words of St. August.ine: "Vobis pastores'sumus, sed sub illo Pastore vobiscum Oves sumus. . . Vobis ex hoc loco doctores sum'us, sed sub ill un'o Magistro.in hac schOla vobiscum condiscipuli surnus" (For you we are shepherds,"biat, unde/ that Sheph,erd, with you we are sheep . For you., we are teachers, but, under that ofie Master . with you we are fellow disciples Enarr in Ps 126:3). This i:10es not eliminate the fact, however, that in the Church each has his own specific .task for which he must one day answer to'Christ. Over the centurie~ the popes have deeply'felt their responsibility for the s'ervice to Catholic bn~ty that was entrusted to them'~i and have soughtto: provide" ~ ford:it in many ways~as by surrounding themselves ,with experienced collfiboratot~"the better to meet the multiform responsibilities of their office. ° Recently, in response to suggestions from the.Conciliar Assembly, we gave exPr,ession to the desire to "internationalize" the Curia, so that'th~ presence of offici~als coming from various parts of the world might'facilitate dialogue with churches living on various co'fiiinents. This morning 1 have the pleasure of meeting with a select representation of the organizafioffg into which the Roman Curia is divided. I gladly welcome the opportunity, beloved brothers in'(~hrist2 to e~press my appreciation to you and to thank you'fo~:'ih~ cOmpe~t~int collaboration which you so generously offer me in the daily fulfillment of the duties inherent in my ministry. The Ministry of Peter . ~ With me you live that "anxiety~for all the churches" which constituted the t'daily tensiofi" of the Apostle Paul (see 2 Co 11:28). This constitutes the daily The Charism of Peter at the Service of Unity /325 tension of every,pope. ~Indeed, it is ~for the Successors of Peter to ensure the convergence towardg the center of th~ Church ofthose many "giffs" to which allusion was made in the conciliar texts we cited. And again it is for them to make provision for those;same gifts to flow outward to the various members of :Christ's Mystical Body, carrying to them new impulses of fervor and of life. There are ordinary means for addressing this apostolic task, among these being ad limina visits. Thus, during.the, present year I have had the pleasure to receive the episcopal conferences of Costa Rica, Oceania, El Salvador, Taiwan, Togo, Lesotho, Peru, Greece, Sri Lanka, Venezuela, Argentina, Chile, Guinea, Ecuador, the AntilleS, B_o!iyia a.nd Paraguay. ' There are also extraordinary means, among which the pope's visits and pilgrimages to .particular churches on the various continents are proving espe-cially effective. Still keen in my mind i~ the pleasant memory of my apostolic journey at the beginning of May to Korea, Papua New Guinea, the Solomon , Islands and Thailand to share the concerns and hopes of the young and promising churches of those lands. Also of significance was the journey during" the month of June which took me to Switzerland and enabled me to strengthen~ the bonds of communion between the See of Rome and the noblechurches of that:nation. Also unforgettable are;the emotions I experienced during my journey :to Canada, when I encountered both those who live their faith in the heart of.a highly evolved ~society and with those who received the gospel message in the context of ancient native Civilizations. Important finally, even if rapid, was the journey in mid-October when, after touching Spain, I reached Santo Domingo, the land from which, almost five centuries ago, evangelization spread into the :New World. On that occasion, too, I was able to meet the people of .Puerto Rico. ~ It is .with joy that I also recall the pastoral visits I made during the course of the year. in Italy: to Bari, Bitonto, Viterbo, Fano, Alatri and then; at the beginning of October, to the churches of Calabria, and finally, in November,~ my pilgrimage to the places sacred to the memory of St. Charles [Borromeo], marking the fourth century of hi~ death. The Apostolic See also maintains a dense network of contacts with all the particular churches in its constant concern not to lose any "gift from above" ,(see Jm 1:17), while at the same time safeguarding the priceless treasure of the Truth of God, along with everything of permanent validity which this has caused to.germinate in the fertile soil of generations of Christians down through the centuries. Neither preconceived prejudice nor deplorable ignorance, there-fore, butconstant ~attention to,"what the Spirit says to the churches" (Rv 2:7)! And this in order "that everything which authentically comes from the Spirit may benefit the entire composite of ,Christ's Mystical Body. Teach the Faith in Its Int grity , , In the context of these reflections we must emphasize ~ also the special responsibility which the :entire episcopate has--cum Petro et sub Petro (with $26 / Review f~or Religious, May-June, 1985 Peter and under .Peter)--with regard to the "deposit~0f thefaith~" entr.usted by Christ to theChurch to be integrally eared for and faithfully taught to genera-tions of people in every age. How can we not recall, the solemn words with which Jesus took leave of the Apostles at the moment of his return to the Father'?. These constitute a precise charge: "Full authority.has been given to me both in heaven and on. earth; go, therefore, and make disciples of all the nations. Teach them to. earry out everything I.have commanded you" (Mt 28:18ff). ' Everything! Nothing of the "deposit."_ can be set aside~ tampered'with or neglected. Aware of this, the Apostle Paul addresses to his "disciple Timothy the . categorical imperative: "Depositum custodi!" (Guard what hasbeen committed to you! 1 Tm 6:20), and impresses on him: "I charge you toopreach.the word, to stay with this task whether convenient or inconvenient-~correcting,°reprov-ing,- appealing--constantly teaching.and never losing patience" (2 Tm 4:2). ° Indeed, the faithful of each historical era are exposed to the temptation ' "not to tolerate sound doctrine" and to "surround themselves with teachers who tickle their ears, refusing to listen to the truth and wandering off,to fables" (see ibid, vv. 3 ff). / Our age is also exposed to this temptation¯ An exact duty therefore falls .upon today?s~ shepherds and guides of the People of God: to defend the authenticity of gospel teaching from all that contaminates and distdrts it. Certainly we must be able to recognize and accept the "grod" that our generation is able to express in order to "purify, strengthen and elevate it." The Council reminded us of this (see LG 13). BUt we must also reject courageously whatever bears the imprint of error and sin, whatever coniains substantive threats to truth and to human morality, whatever spreads thrrugh society, ~whether by deceitful maneuver or with arrogant high-handedness, attacking the dignity of the person and the inalienable rights of individuals and of nations. ¯ The Church has the duty to keep watchAn order to defend,the integrity of the .faith and .of Catholic doctrine, warning against the deceits which seek to contaminate it. This is a specific task of hers which she cannot renounce. "Promoting~Truth Is the Duty of the Church The Holy See, for its part, carries out this duty of promoting and protecting the depositU~mfidei (deposit of faith) with the help especially of the Congrega-tion for the Doctrine of the Faith. As is known, following upon the Second Vatican Council, t.he procedures which the'Sacred Congregation fbllows in examining persoffs and writings submitted to its judgment h.ave been somewhat modified with the intention of offering every guarantee to interested persons. The protection of the truth, which is the Church's sacrosanct and indispensable duty, is not achieved by passing over in any way the dignity and rights of the person. Anyone willing to look with unbiased objectivity cannot ,but recognize, The Charism of Peter at the Service of Unity also in the context of recent events, that in its interventions this Congregation is constantly inspired by ~trict criteria of respect for the ~persons with whom it must rela~te. What can be hoped is that an equally respectful attitude,be always accorded .by those persons toward the Congregation itself when they comment, in private 6r in_ public, on its work. The same principle should apply to every member of the ,People of God, since this Congregation intends nothing other than to safeguard from danger the greatest good which the Christian possesses: the. authenticity and integrity of his faith: It is certainly of great importance that there be established within the Church a sincere and open dialogue among the various components of the Pegple of God. ~This dialogue, however, must be understood as a way to search for what is true and just, not as an ~occasion to indulge in words andattitudes scarcely compatible with an authentic spirit of dialogue. Everyone: must always keep in mind the,duty that each has with regard to truth, most of all.that truth which God has revealed and of which the Church is theL~guardian. ¯ The Option for the.Poor Before. concluding, 1 would also like to mention another 0point~whidh is especially being heard today, the "'preferential option for the poor." During the Second Vatican Council the Church has solemnly proclaimed that she.makes this option her own declaring: "[Like Christ] the Church encompasses with love all wh~ are afflicted with human suffering and in the poor and afflicted she sees the image of her ~poor and suffering Founder. She does all she can to relieve their need and in them she.strives to serve Christ" (LG 8). ¯ This ~"option,~'~. stressed so strongly by the episcopates of Latin America today, has been repeatedl); confirmed by me, following the example of my unforgettable predecessor, Pope Paul Vl. I gladly take this opportunity to repeat that the commitment to the poor constitutes a dominant theme of my pastoral activity, a0constant concern accompanying my daily Service to the,. People of God. I have madeand continue to make this "option" my own. I identify .with it. And I feel that this could not ~be otherwise, since it is the Gospel's eternal message. This is what Christ did. This is what Christ's Apostles. did. This is what the Church has done throughout her two-millennium history. In. the face of today's forms of exploiting the poor the Church cannot remain silent. She reminds the rich as well of their precise duties. Made strong with the Word. of God (see Is, 5:8; Jr 5:25-28; .lm 5:1,3-4), she condemns the many injustices which, unfor{unately, even today are committed to the detri-ment of,the poor. ., ~ Yes, the Church makes her own the preferential option for the poor. A preferential option, notg carefully. Therefore not an exclusive, or excluding option--b.ecause the mes_sage of, salvation is meant for everyone. It is an option~ furthermore, which is essentially based on the Word of God, and not on criteria offered by human science or by adverse ideologies which often reduce the poor to abstract socio-political or economic categories. 328 / RevieW for Religious, May-June, 1985 It is an option, nevertheless, which is unwav~ering and irrevocable. As I said recently in Santo Domingo: ""The pope, the Church, and her hierarchy want to continue to act on behalf of the poor, their dignity, their elevation, their rights as persons, and their aspirations to a social.justice'that can n9 longer be delayed" (L'OsservatOre Romano, EngliSh edition, November 26, 1984, p. 8). Nevertheless, the Apostolic 'See which, because of 'the special mission entrusted to it, closely shares in the experiences of the Chfirch in the various regions of (he world, knows that the forms of poverty, to which modern man is'~ subjected are manifold, and4t feels a moral obligation also in i'egard tO these other forms ,of poverty. Alongside, and, so to speak, in the face of the poverty against which the Episcopal Conferences of Medellin .and Puebla have raised their ~oices, there is also the poverty which stems from the privation of those spiritual goods to which the human person by nature has a right. Is that individual not poor who is subjected to totalitarian regimeS which deprive .him .of those fundamental freedoms in which his dignity as an intelligent and responsible person finds expression? Is that person not poor who is wounded by:otfiers in' his-0r her interior relation to truth; in his or her conscienc~e, in his or her most personal convictions, in his or her religious faith? '., " "' ' This is what I pointed out in my previous interventions, most especially in the Encyclical Redemptor Hominis (no. 17), and in the discburse delivered in 1979 before the General Assembly of the United Nations (nos.,14,20), when 1 spoke abfut the violations inflicted today in the"sphere of man's Spiritual goods. There is not only the poverty which strikes the body; there is another;and more insidious one, which strikes the conscience, yiolating the,most intimate sanctuary~of personal dignity. " In this context of the Church's authentic option for the poor must we ¯ include an event which has, aroused a great deal of int(rest this year: the p~blication of the Instruction regard, ing Certain aspects of the "Theology of Liberation.," . ,This document, contrary to some distorted interpretatiofis which have been given it, not only is not opposed to the optio~i for the poor,~ but rather constitutes an authoritative confirmation of'it, and at the same time effects a clarification and a deepening, of it. By emphasizinffthe intimate and constitutive bond whjel~i°unites freedom to truth, the Instruction defends the poor from ill.uSory and dangerous ideolog-ical proposals of liberation which, beginning with real and dramatic situations of poverty, would make of them and their sufferings only a pretext for new, and sometimes more serious opp?ession: The reduction of the Gospel message to the mere socio-political dimension robs the poor of what constitutes their shpreme right: to receiv~ from the Church the gift of the whole truth about the human person, and hbout the presence of th~ living God in human history.~ The reduction of the human being to just the political sphere, in fact, constitutes a threat not only to the dimension of his "having" but also to his ¯ The Charism of Peter at the Service of Unity / '329 "being." As the Instruction ri~ghtly affirms, the totality of the message of ":salvation alone can guarantee also the totality of human liberation (XI, 16). It is for this liberation that the Church has fought and is fighting at the side of the poor, making herself the advocate of their violated rights, the inspiration for social works of~every kind for their protection and defense, and the voice which proclaims the word of God, which summons everyone to reconciliation and penance. It is not by chance that the Apostolic Exhortation which I recently pub-lished against the background of conclusions reached by the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops propose~ yet again the fundamental evan-gelical theme of conversion of heart, l did so ~in the conviction that the first liberation to achieve for man is liberation from the moral evil which nests in his heart, since it is there that also lies the cause of "social sin," indeed of every oppressive structure. In this commitment to human liberation from all the forms 0f poverty that frustrate the: full realization of the person, theChurch is sincerely and confi-dently open to dialogue With everyone. She declared this to be her intention by the lips of Pope John XXIIIwho constantly ~tretched outwards in the search for "what unites rather than what divides" humankind; she repeated it in the voice of Paul~ VI who dedicated his first Encyclical, Ecclesiam Suam, to this subject; finally, she confirmed it with an especially authoritative pronouncement in the Second Vatican Council which stated that "[the Church] can provide no more eloquent proof of its solidarity with, as well as its respect and love for the entire human family., than by energizin~ it in conversation" that i8 based on the dignity of the human person and on the profound significance of his activity in the world (see Gaudium et Spes, nos. 3 and 40). .The one who, in the unfathomable divine plan, sits today on the Chair of Peter confirms his own intention to contihue the way of a respectful and sincere dialogue with the modern world arid with those who can speak for it and represent it, because he relies on the possibilities for good inherent in human nature and on the renewing power of Christ's Redemption, which is at work in history. Indeed, it is my profound conviction as I said in my message for the 1983 World Day of Peace--that. 'dialogue is a central and indispensable element in the ethical philosophy of'htiman persons, whoev(i- they may be" (no. 6). In order for this dialogue to be fruitful, however, the competencies of other parties must not be infringed upon, and the Church herself, "by reason of her role and competence, must in no way be confused with the political commu-nity, nor bound to any political system," and precisely for this reason does she remain "the sign and the safeguard of the transcendence of the human person" ( GS 76). The Encounter with ChriSt Permeated by the light and the warmth which emanate from these truths, 330 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 ,we set foot on the threshold of the stable of Bethlehem. He who is born in "poverty" asks us to turn our thoughts and hearts towards the varied forms of poverty which oppress.humanity today. He asks us to go to meet this humanity. "Jesus Christ. made himself poor though he was rich, so that we might become, rich by his poverty" (see 2 Co 8:9)¯ ~ Only by making room for, Christ in our own lives and in the lives of our communities will we be able to resolve the problem of the many, forms of poverty from which we suffer, will we truly become "rich," that is, fully, human. The true,problem, however, remains this: to recognize Christ's right to citizenship in each of the various '~worlds" which make up the'modern world. He and he alone possesses the secret for filling our every "poverty"and arousing in our hearts 'the joy of the true wealth, which, in the last analysis, is the treasure of love¯ . May Christmas bring., to the sons a~d daughters of the Church and to all men and women on earth, a foretaste of the indescribable peace of that new world to which the temporal birth of the Son of God happily and irrevoc-ably gave a beginning. May the Holy Virgin, who carried the Incarnate Word in her womb, prepare us to welcome him with deep faith and grateful love. A Gift of Stilln~s The flame from the candle bums steady and bright: It remains that way until a gentle breeze ¯ . comes its way, and it begins to, fliCker. The flickering is a speaking out and a reachi,ng out fo~ a stillness-- that Stillr~ess has but to be present, touchable, available, gentle. :. How much am 1 like that flame-- at times steady, reaching out, . at times burning bright-- and many times flickerin!! I need 0nly be touched by the Stillness.of the Flame of flames-~ ° Then my light becomes~radiant, penetrating, atz,one with the Light of lights. I have been made a Christ,ed flam!! 'I have been gift.ed with Stillness! Sister Regina Hlavac Mother Scton School 100 Creamery Rd., Emmitsburg, Mp 21727 The Mass in "My Cathedral" Pedro Arrupe, S.J. Father Arrupe is well known to our r~aders. In failing health, his resignation from the office of General Superior of the Society of Jesus was .accepted by the 33rd General Congregation of that Society' in September, 1983. "l~his article and introductory comment is I~ased on a chapter from In Him Alone Is Our Hope: Texts on the Heart of Christ (1965-1983), by Pedro Arrupe, S.J., with a foreword by Karl Rahner, S.J.; see Reviews in this issue, p. 466. . These intimate notes of Father Arrupe were jottings written in the course of 1981. °The ailing General hasnow consented that these notes, however incom-plete, ~be made public. In these pages we are able to glimpse how spontane-ously Father Arrupe has lived his intimacy with 'Jesus Christ in the celebration of the Eucharist in his oratory. " This little private chapel of,Father Arrupe, his "cathedral, "had been for Arrupe the powerhouse of in'calculable energy and dynamism for the ~whole Societp~ of Jesus, a place of inspiration; and a source of comfort and strength. This was the place where, for seventeen years, Father Arrupe performed the most important act of his daily routine--the celebration of the Eucharist. As though talking to himself, in these jottings the writer pauses at salient moments of the liturgy, having all the time the body of the Society in his mind. United to the Heart of Christ--he writes--he felt himself to be a mediator between God and the, Society, and understood better what St. Ignatius had in mind when he set down as the primar);~duty and function Of the General: to be "closely unitedwith God our Lord and intimate with him in prayer and in all his actions,, that from God, the.Fountain of all good, the General may so much the better obtain for the whole body of the Society a large share of his gifts and grace.s, and also a great power and efficacy for all the means which will be used for the;, help of souls"'(Constitutions, n. 723). A mini-cathedral! Just eighteen feet by twelve. A little chapel which had .331 332 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 been prepared after the death of my predecessor, Father Janssens, for "the new general'--whoever this was to be! Providence willed that I should bethe one. I am grateful to the person who had the idea; he could not have interpreted the wish of this new general better! The planner of this tiny chapel may have desired to give th~ new general a quiet and convenient place to celebrate Mass in greater privacy, where he might visit the Blessed Sacrament without leaving his rooms. Possibly the planner did not think how much thi~ little oratory would be the fountain of incalculable power and dynamism for the whole Society, a place of inspiration, consolation and strength---even a living room! This was going to be my room for relaxing in the most active leisure,. where, doing nothing, .everything is done! Just as the idle Mary, drinking in the Master's words, was so much more active than her sister Martha! This was going to be the room where the Master's glance and mine cross each other-- where one learns much in silence. The general would have the Lord all the time, every day, next tO .him-- with just a partition between them: the very Lord who was able to enter through the closed doors of the Cenacle, who made himself ~rese~t among his disciples, the One who would be invisibly present in so many conversations and meetings in my office. They call this little room "the private chapel of the general." But it is a teacher's chair (c6tedra) and a sanctuary: Thabor and Gethsemane, Bethlehem and Golgotha, Manresa and La Storta. Ever the same, ever different! If its walls could speak! Four walls that enclose an altar, a tabernacle, a crucifix, a Marian icon, a zabuton (a Japanese cushion), a Japanese painting, one sanctuary lamp. Nothing else is needed, that's all: a Victim, a sacrificial altar, the Stan-dard of the Cross, a Mother, a burning flame that is slowly being cofisumed while giving light and warmth, and love expressed by two Japanese characters: God/Love. Here is a program of life: a life being consumed in love, crucified with Jesus, in Mary's company, being offered to God even as the Victim which is offered to the Father day after day on the altar. In recent years 1 have often heard it said: "Why visits to the Blessed Sacrament if God is everywhere?" My answer, sometimes unexpressed, is: "Really, they don't know what they are saying. God is indeed everywhere, but 'come and see' (Jn 1:39) where the Lord dwells: this is his house." My appeal is not to arguments and discussion, but to the experience of living in the house of the Lord: "One with much experience will speak with understanding" (Si 34:9). ¯ "The Teacher is here and is calling for you"(Jn.l 1:28). Here those requests. rise s~ontaneously: "Lord, teach us to pray" (Lk l lr:l); "Explain tO US the" parable" (Mt 13:36). When we hear his words, we understand the expression of popular enthusiasm: "No man ever spoke like this man" (Jn 7:46),~or that of the Apostles: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68). Then one understands by experience the significance of that sitting at the Lord's feet and listening to his teaching" (Lk 10:39; see Lk 24:32): 7he Mass in "My. Cathedral" / 333 This "cathedral" is the theatre of the most important act of the entire daily routine: the Mass. Christ is the true and supreme priest, the Word made man. It is a divine attribute to be contained in the smallest place and not_to be circumscribed by the universe. This tabernacle or little tent is not too small.for him, but the entire universe is not big enough to hold him. Each Mass has an infinite value, but under some personal circumstances and in ,some special moments this quality of infinitude .is felt more deeply. There is no doubt that the ~fact of being General of the Society of J~sus, with its 27,000 men consecrated to the Lord and totally dedicated to collaborate with Jesus Christ the Savior in all sorts of difficult apostolates, which may at times lead to sacrificing life in ~o.bloody martyrdom, carries with it a weight of responsibility and a profound sense of universality of its own. I Shall Go to the Altar of God In union with Jesus Christ, I, a priest, carry witl~in myself the entire body ofthe Society. The walls of,this littld chapel look as though they would crack. The tiny altar seems to be.come ~that heavenly "altar on high" iEucharistic Prayer I) where the prayers, of all tl~e members of the Society ascend to the Father "by the hands of his~holy a, ngel.".My altar resembles "the golden altar before the throne" (Rv 8:3)~ referred to in the book of the Apocalypse. If, on the one hand, I feel myself, ~s St. Igna~us would have it, "a sore and ulcer" (Spiritual Exercises 58), "nothing but an obstacle" (todo imped(mento), on the other hand I also find myself identified with Christ, "designated by God a high priest" (Heb 5:10), "ho!y, ,blameless, unstained, separated from sinners, exalted above the heavens" (Heb 7:26), "who has entered, not into the sanctuary made with hands, but into Heaven itself, now.to appear in the presence of God on our behalf".(Heb 9:24). With Christ I find omy~elf ~t.oo a "victim": "I saw standing before the throne., a Lamb as,though it has been slain" (Rv .5:6). The Mass begins on this altar; suspended, as it were, between heaven and earth. If I look upward, I can see the heavenly Jerusalem: Wits radiance l!ke a most rare jewel, like jasper:.clear as crysta!" (Rv 21: l~l). But ~I saw no temple in the city, ~for its temple is the Lord God, and the Lamb is its sanctuary" (Rv 4:2~2-23). If I look downward, I see "human beings~ on the face of the earth, in such great dive.rsity in dress and in manner of acting. Some a~e white, some black; some at peace, some at war; some,weeping,so~e laughi.ng; some well, some s~ick; some coming into the w6rld, and some dying.? (SpEx 106). I am profoundly impressed at seeing from this altar, thus suspended between heaven and earth, all the members of the~Society in the world, toiling and suffering in the midst of their endeavors to help souls, ~sent th~:oughout the whole world to spread his sacred doctrine among all men, no matter what their state or condition" (SpEx 145). How I wish that from this altar blessings may fall as a mighty cascade, graces of light and strength that they need at 334 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 eveiy moment. In this Mass Christ will offer hirrigelf, and I wiih him, on behalf of this worldand this Society of Jesug'. Again, if I raise my eyes towards th~ heavenly Jerusalem, I see God's infinite hdliness, "the Three Divine Persons, seated on ~he royal th~ohe of the Divine Majesty, looking down upon the whole surface of the earth and behgldi~ng all nations in great blindness" (S~Ex 106). Meanwhile the clamor of "We have sinned" surges all the time from the face of the eh'rth~ a clamor tha~ resOufids with the rumbling of a ca~ract: ~the thur~der of thy cataracts" (Ps 42:7); "Then I heard the noise., of many waters and tlie sound of mighty thhnderpeals~ (Rv 19:6). When I feel myself, like the "servant of Yahweh," bearing ~the sins of the Society, chiefly during my generalate, and my own countless person~ilgins', 1 appear "despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and as one from whom men hide their faces." (Is 53:3). Meanwhile I wish it might be said of me, as it was said of Jesus: ."0port him'was the chastisement that made us whole" (Is 53:5); "He was oppressed and hewas afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth" (I~ 57:7). Thus while I hear the great'penitential act of the Society: "Wd have finn&l, and hax~e acted perversely and wickedly" (l K 8:47), I feel myself "the last of all, ,as one untimely born, unworthy of being called 'a son of the So~ciety'" (~see I Co 15:8-9). This is precisely the feeling that pCrmits me to sympathize with the fallen and the straying, and to grasp the whole meaning of those words of the leiier to the Hebrews: "He can deal gently with the ignorant.and 'wayward since he himself is beset with Weakness, he is bound to offer sacrifice for ~his owh sins as well as for thos~ of the people" (Heb 5:2-3). '" ' "° Christ becomes "the mediator of the n~w covenant" (Heb 9:15). I, too, in union with the heart of Christ and in spite of ever~hing, 1.feel mYself to ~be a mediator, and understand why St. Ignatius designat~es, as the l~fimary function of the General of the Society of Jesus, that "he should be clbsely united with GOd our Lord and intimfite with him, that from the Lord, the Fountain of All Good, the general may',.so i~uch the better obtain foi the whole body of the Society, a l~irge share of his gifts and gra~s, and'algo a great power and efficacy for all the meahs which will be used for the help of souls" (Const 723). My position between God and. the Society of Jesus, as a pribst and during the celebration of the Eucharigt, is that of a "inediatOr between God and men," to "govern the whole body of,the Society . This he will do~rimarily'by his prayer which is full of desires and by his s, acrifices, to 'obtain the grace of preservation and development. : and on his own part he should hold these means in high esteem, and have great confidence in our Lord, since these are the most efficacious means of gaining grace from hi~ Divine Majesty, the source of what is longed for" (Const 789-790). The office of general thus considered appears in all its~ depth and in clear light: "Morning by morning he awfikens my ear. The Lord God has opened my ear" (Is 50:4-5). Aware of my being°a priest with the servant Of 7he Mass in "My Cathedral"/335 Yahweh, "I do notwish to be rebellious or turn.backward; I offered my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to those who pull Out my beard. I hid not my face from shame and spitting" (see Is 50:5-6). But how consoling it is to read in the sacred text: "When he makes himself an offering for sin, he shall see his offspring, he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand; he shall see the fruit of the trav~iil of his soul and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall, the righteous one~ my servant, make many 'to be accounted righteous,, and he shall bear their iniquities" (Is.53:10-11). The Offertory ~" I experience the profound feeling ofstandin~ before the God of mystery (arcano),.the~4gios athanatos (Holy Immortal One) and the Deus absconditus (the hidden God).- I feel that he is present in me and loves me as a father, that he is the fouritainhead of all life, and that' he accepts my offering. As I raise the paten, I.try to penetrate with the eyes of Christ, and with the light of faith, through the infinitude of the universe to the very heart of the Tririity: -"Blessed ~re 3;ou, God of all creation; through ydur goodness we have this bread to offer:."At the same time those .words,from the former offertory text come to my mind: ".-. which 1, thy unworthy servant offer to thee, the living and true God." All my unworthiness, faces,'me again: "despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief' (Is 53:3); "and he shall bear their iniquities" (Is 53:11). You know everything, Lord! As I raise the paten, if'seems to me that all my brothers ,gaze~at it., feeling themselves to be present:?'., and for all those around me." The paten seems to expand as "my innumerable sins and negli-gences" and those of others are accumulating along with the aspirations.and desires of the whole SoEiety. Like'Moses, lfeel that "I am not able to carry all this people alone; the burden is toffheayy for me" (Nb 11:14). I feel as though the hands of all the Jesuits of the v~orld would help me to sustain this most heavy paten, loaded with sins.but also with desires, hopes and petitions. I seem~ to hear the Lord say to me, as he said to Moses: "I will.take some of the spirit which is upon you and put it upon them; and they-shall bear the burden of the people with you, that you maY not bear it yourself alone" (Nb 11:17). And then, as though the paten would become lighter--or my arms stronger I am able~tb lift the patenhigher as if to place it nearer to the Lord. "And also for all faithful Christians, living and dead . and for the salvation of the whole world." I almost feel like fainting when faced with human malice and sin. 1 need that you. stretch out 'your mighty hand, Lord. "I stretched out the heavens alone, ~I~ spread out the earth. Who was with me?" (Is 44:24). Sustained by this powerful hand, I shall be able to carry on: "This bread will become for us the Bread of Life." I now take the chalice with the wine which will be changed into the blood of'Jesus: "Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine tb offer., it will.become our spiritual drink." t 336 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 This wine, fruit of the vine pressed down in the winepress and fermented, will be converted into the blood shed on the cross. This chalice, symbol of that cup that caused you to shed blood at Gethse-mane, .and that was so bitter that you wished you would not have to drink it, Will soon becrme the chalice of your blood~poured out for the salvatior~ of the world. Into it are now poured .the sufferings of so many Jesuits who, crushed in their turn, have given or shall give their lives for you in a bloody or unbloody manner, their tears,,their sweat., a foul, unsavory mixture,which, when united with your blood; will become pleasant and sweet-scented--the aroma of Christ (2 Co 2:15). ~: "We know that this is to be our lot. ,~to suffer affliction" ( 1 Th 3:3), but irresistibly impelled by your charity "for the love of God overwhelms us" (2 Co 5:14), we choose and beg "to be received under your standard . and bear insults and wrongs, thereby to imitate you better" (see SpEx 147): Certainly you have heard our prayer, for the cup is overflowing, but charity makes us to be "overjgyed with all our.affliction" (2 Co 7:4). This chalice, converted for us into,"a°fragrant offering and sacrifice" (Ep 5:2), is accepted by you as an offering pleasing to God (see Ph 4:18) and will become for us "our spiritual drink." ,, .~ Thu~, bowing before the throne of the Trinity, I can.say with the whole Church: "In the spirit of humility and. with a contrite heart, let, us be received by thee, O Lord; and grant that the sacrifice we offer in thy, sight this day may be pleasing to Thee, O Lord God." Our sacrifice--of Christ, of me, and of the whole Society, asa body united' in the charity of the Holy Spirit, members and head with Christ (see Const 67,1.). United also with "the bond of obedience"(Const 659)~ by which we all, as one man, offer the daily holocaust of our lives, "in which the entire man, without any reser~vation, offers himself in the fire of charity to his Creator and Lord (Letter on Obedience; March 26, 1553: MI Epp IV, 669-681). Our personal sacrifices, united in the da.ily community holocaust, constitute a total sacrifice-- our sacrifice of praise (Eucharistic Prayer IV). Preface and comecra~ion ,, From the heart itself of the Society spontaneously arises that acknowledg-ment: "Father, it is truly meet and just, it is our duty and our salvation always and everywhere to give you thanks:" Our song of praise would join tliat of the angels and blend it into a harmonious choir, every member of which sings in his own voice in.a multitude and diversity of tones, similar to that impressive, chorus formed by that "great multitude which no man could number from.all the tribes and peoples and tongues., crying out witha loud voice, 'Salvation belongs to our God who sits upon the throne, and to the Lamb'" (Rv 7:9-10). Our song would join also ~that.of the Society triumphant in heaven, and that of all the saints: "Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and might be to our God for ever and ever! AmenL' (Rv 7." 12). The Mass in "My Cathedral"/337 Following on this mighty chorus, I.seem to hear a striking silence. "Be silent before the Lord God! For the day of the Lord is at hand; the Lord has prepared a sacrifice and consecrated his guests" (Zp 1:7). "Be silent, a.ll flesh, before the Lord!" (Zc 2:1,3). "There was silence in heaven for about half an hour" (Rv 8: l). Let us, therefore, keep in the silence of our heart, as Mary did (Lk 2:51), everything that is .going to take place on "this altar .in heaven" (Eucharistic .Prayer IV), the mystery of the Passover, in which "Christ was immolated," the mys_tery of the Redemption of the world, the mystery.of the highest glorification of the Father.~"And they were filled with wonder and astonished at what had taken place" (Ac 3:10). The sublime moment of the consecration is drawing near.,In union with the whole bgdy of the Society,0identified with Christ, I hold the host in my hands and pronounce the words "This is my body"--my body, that of Christ; "This is thecup of my blood'--a solemn moment which can be noted only in awesome silence. ~ Christ converts the bread into his body and the wine into his blood, but the one pron.ouncing the sacramental words is I! This identification with him is such that I caia'say, "This is my bod~,,'-' but it is Christ's body! My inner self, is all ablaze--as if I felt the Heart of Christ beating instead of mine, or within ¯ mine! As though his blood was coursing through my veins at the moment of consecration! ~The mystical, sacramental separation of the body and blood of Christ is a reality and a symbol, but he who receives the body receives the whole Christ and he who receives the blood receives the whole as well. The redemption of the world was thus accomplished: incarnation, death, paschal mystery, ~salvation. All this is repeated at this moment in my hands. _I remain "filled with astonishment," yet "I believe, Lord,~help my unbelief (Mk 9:24). Christ in my. hands! The Lamb that takes away the sins of the world is not on the "highest throne" of the Apocalypse, but in my hands, as bread under the sacramental species I believe! At the moment of consecration the perfect glorification of the Father takes place. This will soon be exp,ressed in the doxology: "Through Christ, with him, and in him, in the unity of, the Holy Spirit, all glory and honor~is yours, Almighty Father, for ever and ever." . At this solemn moment I pause a while "in order to reflect and ponder upon what presents itself to ~mY mind (SpEx 53). How does the world appear from this altar? How does Jesus Christ see it? In order to understand this I mus.t enlarge my hear~ to world proportions. Like the Heart of Christ, the heart of the body of the whole Society must be enlarged, and with it the heart of each one of us. Ours must be a heart that embracesall men without exception, as did the Heart of Christ "who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth" (1 Tm 2:4), so that finally "there shall be one flock, one shepherd" (J~n 10:16). From this altar, between heaven and earth, one gets a better vision and 338 / Review for Religion, May-June, 1985 understanding of the needs,of men and women in the ~,ast ~vorld;:one sees and ¯ unders.tands, now in a new light, the impoi't of that universal'mission: "Go into all the world and preachthe Gospel to the whole of creation" (Mk 16:15), I. personallyfeel myself, as it were; hurled into the world, hnd withi!me the whole Society sent to the wide ,world. Thisqs its target, its~allotted tfisk, until it return again to g!orify the Lord; once the'battle-'for tile kingdom is won. " My ears keep ringing with those reassuring statements:'~"I ~send~ you"~ (Jn 20:21), and "I am with you.always" (Mt 28:20). These words fill ourhearts:. with donfidenc~, My incomparable:companion is Christ'himself; wh6 is pregent not only on this altar but within 'me, filling me with his divinity, and he: sends me to those Who'did not receive him (see Jfi 1:11). 'My response can 6n13~ be: "Lord; whai would you have meto do?" (Ac 9:6),'~and "What ought I t0do f6r Christ?" (SpEx 53). '" :~:- "~ ~ The body of the Sbciety;" in its full awareness of being sent and°strengthened with the power of God, feels rejuvenated and full of vigor and zest; it feels the blood' ~fChrist coursing through its veins, and the fullfiess of thi~ Spirii of Christ pbs~essing its~ve~y being, as if propelled by the rush of a'mighty wind (see Ac 2:2). ~Who.~vill be able to withstand this Society if it faithfullyfollows the line of mission pointed out to it by the Lord?The Societyknows~thai~the life of its members is:that of "men crucified to .theworld and to :'wh6m-the world is crucified" (see Ga 6:14), and that no one will be able to withstahd "the~ wisdom and the Spirit who speaks" in such men (~ee Ac 6:10), nor r~gist their Voice (Jdt 16:14): ~- , ~ The Our Father . ' The Father bfthe Society: all sons of the same Father, of the Father:who, at La Stortia, asked:the Son, loaded with the cross; to receive l~natiti~ as his servant, thereby confirming the name'of "Society°of Jesus.-': The Our Fathe'rqs the perfect pra3~er'for the individual and for the commufiity. "- Who are in heaven: A Jesuit must always look'hehvenwards. There is ,his Father and his fatherland. Our entire life is for. the kingdom. " ", 'You'r kingdom dome: All our labors would be of no avail without the di~ihe help in establiShing this kingdom. The whole Society asks for this grace.most earnestly because it knows that the success of all its undertakings hinges on the answer to this°farayer. Your Will lie done: We must cooperate with the divine will--for Wliiehit is necessary that we know it. ~ Give us, Lord, tlib sense of true discernment for knowing'at every moment what your will for Ug is. 'Keep on enlightening us to find ~our will, and~iving us the strengtli.~o fulfill it. ~ The Society's on13~ goal is the carrying'out of your will--your wilFmani-fest~ d in various ways; but especially through obedience. My responsibility, as Superior General of the Society, is very great,indeed. "To him all auihpHtyis given ad aedifica?idnem (for building up)!" (see Const 736). Your will'b~ done: The Mass in "My Cathedral"/' 339 may ,I never be an obstacle; may I never disfigure, misrepresent, or mistake your will for the Society. It is very painful to think that this might happen. Keep me faithful to your teaching, and ''never let me be parted from you" (the ,prayer°before Communion). ~ ~ . o I onside.r this to be a most necqssary grace. Therefore, bowing before the paten which holds your Body, I repeat this prayer again and again: Death a thousand times rather than to be separated from you! "As the Lord lives. wherever my lord the king shall be, whether for death or for life, there als0 will your servant be" (2 S 15:21)~ ~ With my eyes fixed on the consecrated Host; I present it to the brother who accompanies me in the celebration, and who takes the place.rof all the Jesuitk--just as with the first disciples who,saw Jesus when John the Baptist drew their attention to him. There they saw a man; here we see only a piece of bread. This is an act of true faith: believing against what we see. The act of faith in the Eucharist is indeed "a hard saying; who dan listen to it?" (Jn 6:60). No; Lord, faith in the, Eucharistic, Mysteryis not hard. It is rather a source of immense joy: "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words ofete rnal life" (Jn 6:68). I believe! "Lord, I am not Worthy, but only say the word and I shall be healed" (see Mt 8:8), just as you ,healed the centurion's servant. The Society believes that you are~Lord; and wants to. shelter ~you under its roof: in our houses, in our churches in which we want to visit you and contribute to your glorification and cult.'~And.especially the Society wantsto sbelt~i~ you in the hearts of each one .~f us, and .in the tabernacles of each community, where they will-keep,.you .company and seek from you light, comfort and strength to carry out the mission you have entrusted to them. ~ ,, Enter, Lord, under the roof of your ~Society. We need you. There are so °many crises of faith, so mhny sophisticated'interpretations parading as scientifi-cally theological! At times even Christian piety is made light of, as though ,.these manifestations of solid and.~ lgnatian faith were antiquated superstitions. "Anti, my soul shall be saved:,~ Lord, do,not permit the Society,to.yield in this matter, or degenerate from ~what St. Ignatius wanted it to be. Eooking fixedly at thi~ white.Host, I fall on my knees; and 27,000 Jesuits° kneel with me, saying, with the Apostle Thomas; from the bottom of my soul, ~and with .unswerving faith: "My Lord and my God" (Jn 20:28). May the Body of Christ Bring Me to Everlasting Life Lord, keep the whole Society; keep me especially, since you have given me this office of such great responsibility. Communitarian communion; identifica-tion with Christ; a food that is not transformed but transforms. Body of the Society "Christified'--all united and converted into Christ himself. What bet-ter "union of hearts"! (Const) 655). "For me to live is Christ'~ (Ph l:21), now more than .ever. How well Nadal's observations fit in here! "Accept and diligently exercise 340 / Ri~view for Religious, May-June, 1985 the union wherewith the Spirit of the Lord favors you regarding Christ and his powers. Thus you may come to perceive in your soul that you understand through his intellect, will by his will, remember through his memory, and that your entire self, your existence, your life and your actions are realized, not .in you, but in Christ. This is the highest .perfection in this life: power divine, happiness beyond compare" (Nadal, MHSI, Orationis Observationes~ n. 308, p. 122). With this identification of the Society and of each member of the Society with Christ, our aposto!ic activity and our help to souls will gain in efficacity. Our words will be those of Christ who knows which is the suitable word at every moment. Our-plans and manner of apostolate will be precisely those with which th~ Lord will inspire us, which cannot fail to be fruitful--a "Society of Jesus," truly of Jesus, one with him. The Blessing of Almighty God How consoling and moving for me, as identified with Christ, to impart the .blessing, his blessing, to the universal Society, a blessing which cannot fail to be efficacious. This blessing goes to you, workers of the Lord's vineyard, scattered throughout the world and beset with so many difficulties: to you, who are bound to the bed of suffering by pain and infirmity, who offer~ your prayers and afflictions for souls, and for the Church and the Society; to you superiors, who bear a heavy responsibility, and have been entrusted with a task not easy in the present time; to you who are in charge of the formation of our young Jesuits, who are shaping the Society of tomorrow; to you coadjutor brothers, who, in a decisive movement of our history are going through a:profound transformation, and ~who are serving the Church and the Society with so much dedication and selflessness; to you young scholastics and novices~in whom necessarily rests.the hope of the Society for the future, in which 0yot~°ought to be men dedicated to the Church and to souls, in the ,Society deeply, imbued with the .spirit of St. Ignatius; to you very especially, who live in countries deprived of true feedom, who need to feel that the Society is very near to you and values your difficult ministry and testimony; to all of you in the furthermost corners of the world, in the most hidden rooms in our houses, in th~ remotest stations in the jungle. May the blessing of Almighty God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit descend upon you and remain with you always. The Mass in my cathedral is ended. "Go and set the world on fire!" Vocation: Where Gladness Meets Hunger J. Peter Sartain Father Sartain. ordained four years ago, is presently Director of Vocations for the Diocese of Memphis. He may be addressed at the diocesan offices: 1325 Jefferson Ave.; P.O. Box 41679; Memphis, TN 38104-1679. For the past three years I have vacationed with Mike, a friend from seminary days and a priest of another diocese. Inevitably our vacation conversations have turned to the subject of vocation: how~ we had both .discovered the importance :of staying in touch with the roots of our vocations meaning not simply that we felt called to be diocesan priests, but on a more profound .level, that we felt called' at all. We know each other well en6ugh ~o confront~and challenge each other as we discuss possible directions~for our ministry in living out our call. At times we would speak of specific hopes and dreams, our clearest p~ayerful perceptions of our call. Thus it was~that Mike told me he had a deep desire to live a simple lifestyle in community, to Work with the very po6r, and to have some experience ¯ of the desert. In the months that followed this conversatiofi we corresponded about his efforts to start a Catholic Worker community in'his diocese. Event~- ally those efforts,proved unfruitful~ or at. least ill-timed. That was little more than a year ago. F0i'4he past ten months Mike's letters have been postmarked "Zimbabwe," where he was sent with a team from his diocese:to inaugurate a mission. The mov,e happened very fast, but ~e both knew it was right. Not long ago Mike wrote that he realizes his new.ministry is just what he had hoped for--he shares the poverty of those he serves, Who are among the poorest of the, pbor; and the "desert" within is fed by the desert without: his territory has not~een rain in more than two yearS. It.is a difficult mission, and 341 ~42 / Review for Religious, ~May-June, 1985 the transition has not been without its struggles, ~ ~ My friendship with Mike, our sharing with one another the movement of God within us and our pra~,erful support of each other have taught me a great deal about my call and about "vocation" in general. In this article'I will reflect on an understanding of vocation which has proved helpful for me and those to whom I minister as Director of Vocations for my diocese. I do not propose to address every aspect of a complete theology of 9ocation but to offer a frame-work which may help contextualize one's understanding of his or her call to service in the Church. Gladness and Hunger In Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC Frederick Buechner proposes an insightful definition of vocation: "The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet."1 -From the moment I read it this definition struck deep chords within me, for it resonated with my experience of myself and of the Gospel. God calls each one of us to authentic happiness and to service; and these two dimensions of God's call meet in an honest and prayerful search fortruth~ ~ Discovering Our Deep Gladness If anyone wisbes to come after reel he must deny his very self, take up his cross, and begin to follow in my footsteps. Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life,for my .sake will find 4t (Mt 16:24-25). ~ . Jesus" challenge of self-denial has always intrigued me as.I have,sought to deepen my. response to. his invitation to "come after me." Teilhard d~ Chardin . . . lays ddwn two ~ospel imperatives, self-developnient and " renunciation. The first call of'the Gospel, he says, is'to utilize our talents, develop our, " gifts, and construct our human life. Only then does the call to total ab_negatio_n make sense. We are called to renounce everything and give our life to,,tally back to Ggd. But we must first possess ihat life in~ order to give it away3 At the center of each Christian vocation is an on-going call to know oneself. No response to God's call can be immediately whol#, in the sense that none of us is totally in touch with our_ livesat any one point in. time, especially in the. early, stages ofoformation. One who ~senses a call from God, then, ~ begins a life-long process,of gaining self-knowledge. I believe this search for'self-knowl-edge, when seen in the light,of the search for God and a lovefor God's creation, becomes~a,search for one's "deep gladness~? Authentic happiness lies not in doing what makes me happy but~in being f~ully whorl,am--learning the truth about myself and living it for God and his people, ~possessing" my life so that I can give it back to God. This search can, take place~ authentically only in the context of prayer. "l:hose who pray are inviting the Spirit into their lives; and those who invite the Spirit into their lives are inviting the truth--about God, about themselves and. about the world around them . . Vocation: Where Gladness Meets Hunger The. Fear .and Freedom of Truth There can"exist simultaneously within us a deeply curious,ahd burning need to know ourselves and a consuming fear about what we will find within. ffhere can be~the suspicion that~ what we will find will be unacceptable, or unlovable, or at least something other than that for which w6 had hoped. Nevei'theless,o;the Christian who, genuinely struggles0to follow the Lord will cbme~face-.to~face ,with truth. Living~the Gospel means learning the truth, for as we seek to enflesh the words of Jesus, the Word of Truth enlightens us. If you live according tb my teaching, you are ii'uly my disciples; th'en yo~ will know the ~itruth, and the truth will set you free (Jn 8:31-32). ~° ' Jesus ~ys, "The truth will set y0ia free." Jesus the Truth liberates; it'is lies which enslave. We do not have to look far to see that lies really do ensla e: ~t is the lie that says: "All people are not fundamentally equal" which perpetuates policies and practices of discrimination across the gl6be; it° is theqie that sa~,s: "Unlimited possessions are my due" which causes half the world to go to bed hungry each night; it is the lie that says: "Deep within each of i~s there is some unspeakable ugliness" which can keep us frotri being-freed~-by the ~truth. Lies en~lave, the trtlth sets fre~; and one cannot come to a saving encounter with Trtith 0with0~it facing the truth about-oneself. ~ The"call to~cbnversi~)n can be wrongly interpreted as a call to becoming 's~)ihething I am not, as tho, ugh, somehow, my 'natural condition as God's child. include"~ "unacceptability." But con~,ersion does not m~an becoming acceptabl~ to Gbd. This misapprehension can'be abetted by a pervasive but distorted view 6f the~ human person which carries tile body/soi~l dichotohay to the ultimate degree. Then it is that I become c0n~inced that my body is the worldly/sehZ "~tial/sinful 15art of my existence, and my soul is~the othei'~-worldly/spiritual/i'e-deemable part. Such a view of the human person ~ould only' lead to an unhealthy spiritual dualism which pretends' that only "good" tho~Jghts and "positive" feelings are "worthy" of Gbd; "bad" thoughts and'"negaiive" feelings are therefore to be avoided, even denied at all costs sinc~they originate in the d~irkness of that'"~)ther" part of my being, the part of me which God tolerates but does not cherish. SuCh dis~tortions militateagainst any substantial growth toward wholeness, and th~ Christians who are enslaved 6y them will meet continually with frus-tration' as~ they~find that their "unspiritual" bodies arid "worldly~ thought~ s~mply will not go away. For them, the search for triJ~ih will be a frighte~ng enterpri~; a journey into an unfriefidly and ungodly void. " ~ F6~tUh~tel~, G~Sd does not have designs solely on,our souls. P~ul mak6s this clear in the closing blessing o~" his letter to the Th~ssalonians: May the God of peace make you perfect in holiness. May he preserve you whole and entire, sprat', soul,'and body, ~rreproachable at the coming of our Lord Jesus Chris. He who calls us is trustworthy, therefore he will do it (! Th 5:23-24). For the true disciple of Je'sus conversion rather mean~ transformation in :344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985' Christ; it embraces a new way of liying in love. Conversion does not mean denying who I am, but acknowledging thar.I am not whole without Jesus, and accepting the wholeness he wishes to bestow on me. Moreover, conversion involves, being fully who I am--holy and unholy--in.Jesus, and discovering in prayer and life with others that only in confronting the truth about myself and holding that,truth up to the light of the Gospel will I be truly free and "deeply glad." The full truth is that I am the sinner redeemed, the enslaved set free, the beloved called t6 love. For ma~y people coming to that full truth is not easy. For them truth is something to be feared, not embraced. ,~They are frighten.ed by the nagging suspicion that at the center of their hearts and heads there is really s0m~eone wh~ is~unattracfive and abnormal, someone certainly not called by God. They are haunted by the~ fear that at the center of their lives there is no "deep gladness," but only a painful sadness. The Fruit of.~Honesty The fear of truth is played out jn a number of w.ays in.houses of formation. It can be manifested in anger, defensiveness, a purely passive submissiveness to authority, and everything in between. Formation ministers, then, r~ust be honest people people so in tune with the freedom of truth that they create an environment which values and demands~b, onesty in every forum. In evaluating ~ndidates they must speak the truth gently but directly~ realizing that any-thing but.clarity is useless and potentig!ly even harmful. They must make evident in themselves the sine qua non, that one must be honest in prayer, spiritual direction, ministry,friendship and self-evaluation; that avoiding the-risk involved in revealin.g oneself to another means avoiding growth, avoidihg a liberating and truth-filled gladness. It goes w, ithout saying that professional counseling~-and the opl~ortunity to inte~rate~ it with spiritual direction--should be readily available for those ministers whrwish to avail themselves of it. To avoid the truth about oneself is to feel, hu.nger yet refuse food. The Church needs ministers who want t~ face the truth. . In writing just now of coming to know oneself I have not mentioned the obvious that the Perso~n who really knows him or herself wil),hapl~ily dis-cover that they really do possess even ~unused talent and untapped potential. I have seen many extremely talented peo~ple--people whose i~bility was widely known and often praised who neverthel'ess were deeply unhappy. They were blind to their talent because they were convinced that the truth about thehaselves was not acceptable. Th~y'~oncluded that any praise directed to them was given only out of sympathy or out of "Christian charity." Often they busied them-selves 'doing too ma~y. things, and their hyper-activit~, ~left~them tir, ed~ and unfulfilled--and sad. Our talents will remain untapped and any use of them apologetic until we discover deep within us ~he uncompromised and joyful love of God. We Vocation: Where Gladness Meets Hunger / 345 ca, nnot discover that love until we seek, with the help of Others, ,to know ourselves honestly. And we cannot hope to know ourselves unless we pray, inviting the Spirit of Truth to abide in us. Henri Nouwen has written: Only in the context of grace can we face our sin; only in the place of healing do we dare show our wounds; on|y with a single-minded attention to Christ can we give up our clinging fears and face our own true nature. As we come to realize that it is not we who ¯ live, but Christ who lives in us, that he is our true self, we can slowly let our compulsions melt a~way and begin to experience the freedom of the children of God.a "Deep.gladness~ comes with the incredible revelation that Christ is our true self and that he calls us from within. Our~deep gladness resides foundationally in kno.wing the truth about our-selves and discovering in that truth the overwhelming love and acceptance of God. The truth frees us from the lies which enslave us and enables us to use our talents Confidently and generously. It causes us to boa~st in the weakness which i~ntensifies ou~r hunger for.God. It teaches us tooffer totally to God what we know to be ourselves. And it liberates .us to see clearly the hungers of the world and to minister to those hungers with a burning gladness. A Hungry World ' I sometimes feel uneasy around the poor, partly because they unwittingly remind me. of my comfortable lifestyle and partly because they challenge me to live a life of true justice. An experience during my seminary~days in-Rome had a profound effect on me in this regard. On the feast of the Epiphany I had gone with a group of seminarians to St. Peter's Basilica for the celebration of the Eucharist at which the pope would be presiding. Halfway through the Mass a friend ~became oill and had tO return tothe seminary;I decided to a.ccompanyohim. Shortly after leaving tl~e basilica we noticed a small, shabbily-dressed woman following us; she appeared to be one of the many poor who live on the streets of Rome, At first we paid little notice, but'~Padually sh6 drewl.up tb within a few feet of us. We assumed that she was going to ask for money, burmuch to our surprise she simply inquired of my friend, ''What's wrong with you?" When he explained that he was not feeling well she took us both by the arm and led us hurriedly to a nearby bar. She ordered two glasses of hot milk into which she stirred several 'teaspoonsful of sugar, and~ three large cream-filled pastries (one for herself). Now we assumed we would be asked to~.~pick up the tab, but tb our total amazement she paid for everything. After admonishing us for not taking better care ofourselves'she told us to eat and drink up.~Then she said she had to be off to Mass because it was a feastday. We never saw her again. That little Italian woman taught"me as much about love as anyone I can remember; she spontaneously and joyfully nourished a hunger I did not know i had: the need to learn to love spontaneously and without conditions. Mother Teresa of Calcutta has written: "In heaven we will all be surprised to find how our poor have helped us to become Christ-like in love and compas- 3~16 / Review f or Religious, May,June, 1985 sion.,4 On that Epiphany l~witiaessed a simple, Christ-like love, and I learned something more about my vocation. ,4 New Vision Self-knowledge is the foundation of the spiritual life; but that is not to say that spirituality is merely a gutsy, prayer-laden introspection whose purpose is to help one feel good about oneself. Prayer itself is suppos~ed to be a two-way street, l seek to know myself that I might possess the life I am giving back to God; I pray that I might know the God to whom I am giving myself; through prayer and self-kngwledge I allow God to open my eyes to the hungers -bf his people~ and hear Jesus' call: "Feed my lambs." The progression, then, is circular: living the Gospel helps one know the liberating truth about God, self and others~ and the.resulting free, dom allows one to learri how t~ live the Gospel more frilly. Nouwen has rightly observed that in ministry one makes visible~vhat is seen in contemplation: "The contemplative life'is a life witha vision, and'~the. life of ministry is a life iri Which this vision is revealed to others."5 Through prayer the eyes and heart of the believer~are gradually transformed into the eyes and heart of the Lord; and having acquired this new vision the beli6ver makes it palpable in life and ministry. Having seen with God's eyes "the hung~e~ of God's people, the Christian senses~a call to'attend those hungers-:-because-iri the faces of the "hungry" is seen the face of Jesus himself. Letting the Lord shap~ our vision or better, 'cure our~blindne~s is a gi~adual process and an important l~art of ~onversion. I'think of the story of the blind man at¯ Bethsaida: , ¯ When they ~irrived at B~thsaida, some people brought him a blind man and I~egged him to touch him. Jesus to6k~the blind man's hanOI and led him outside the .village. Putting spittle in his eyes he laid his hands on him and asked. "Can you see anythingT~The man opened his eyes and said~ ~I can see people but they look like walking trees!" Then a second time Jesus laid hands on his eyes, and he saw peff~ectly; his sight was restored and '~e could see ever3~hing clearly (Mk 8:22-25). Mark .uses this story to illustrate that the disciples~of Jesus only gradually open their eyes~ to ,see ,things as he sees them, just as the blind man 0nly gradually received his sight through repeated contact with Jesus . ,At its heart, conversion means,allowing the Lord to shape our vision through prayer and a~truth-seeking.meditation on his word, and then respond-ing to what we.see. A ~'~ne~w vision" does not mean that things external to us have changed, but that we see things in a new~ and proper light. In ,his poem "Journey of the Magi" T. S. Eliot presents the retrospect of one of the astrol-. ogers who had traveled to Bethlehem to see~the Christ-child; what he had ~een changed and unsettled him: ,~ o, All this fffis a long time ago, I remember, And I would do it again, but set down This set down This: were we led all float way fo'r Vocation: Where ,Gladness ,Meets Hunger /347 "'~irth or Death? There was a Birth, cei~inly, We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death, ' " ¯ . But had thought they were different; this Birth was Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our deatl~.' We returned to" our places, ,these Kingdoms, But no longer at ease here~ in the old dispensatiofi, With an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death.6 Thevision of Jesus is an unsettling vision, a vision marked by an active ' impatiqnce and a passionat~ dissatisfaction with,r,tbecondition of the worl, d~It is a vision which abhors indifference and is ariimated by hope. It is a vision which can s!ngle out the individual in the nameless~ suffe~ring crowd, and embrace an entire people, having seen one h~urti~g face. It is a vision of compS|ling truth and compassionate l~'e. Our Vocati6n in Jesus It iS precisely~in ~he unsettli.ng ambiguity of a vision which is hopefu~l in the face of hunger that we sense our vocation. Here it is that we hear the Lord telling us to transform our impatience and disSatiSfaction inio active love, as he has done before us. Here we begin to know that it would make us "deeply happy to respond m the name of God to the hunger~ we see. Here we realize that our vocation is, m fact, the vocation of Jesus himself. Ifi the synagogue at Nazareth Jesus revealed his vocation through a passage from the pr.oph~y of Isaiah: The,Spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring gl~d tidings to th~ poor, to proclaim liberty to ¢hptives, Recovery of sight to the blind ." and release to pnsoners, ~ - ,,. .To announce the year of favor from the Lord (Lk 4:18-19)~, Having been~anointed with the Spirit of Truth, Jesus'finnounced that his vocation was to bring glad tidings to the poor and hungry, freedom to the enslaved, and new vision to the blind. He lived his vocation, and he calls others to do likewise.~. ' '~ Christians discerning their vocaiions must be attentive to the signs of the ¯ times with the sabne.prayerful passion with which'they seek to know themselves. They must be students of culture and current events as well as theology, and they' must strive for a, sense' of compassion which, is world-wide in its scope. God's love ki~ov~s noclass distinctions or' national boundaries. Vocation ministers have a responsibility to challenge those in'formation to understand the prophetic nature of the Gospel, and t~o reject as !nadequate any view of ministry which seeks tl~e salvation of the soul but not of 1he whole person or of society. The attention given to the Church's social teachings today helps candidates for ministry understand the un-evangelized condition of the 348,/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 world and the perspective wh!ch is offered to that situation by.the Gospel. Our ~social tradition does not offer specific solutions to every social problem, how-ever, nor should it. Candidates, then, should be given tools to evaluate for themselves what tfiey see around them in light of the Good News. I have learned the most ih life not from people who taught me what they thought, but from people who taught rn'e how to tl~ink. Ministers who have been given tools to think for themselves will be not only more self-confident but ultimately more effective. Like the Beadle Moch~ in Elie Wiesel's Night they will learn tO"pray to the God within me that he will give me the strength to ask him the.right qtiestidns."7 If I value the freedom of truth I will respect the freedom of others." Hunger is not only global and physical, nor is it found only in tenements or on street corners; it is als0 fotihd in the Church. A friend recently.told me that one reason he is considering the priesthoodis because he sees a c.rying n~ed for strengthening communities of faith on the parish level. As a professional.in his early 30s he knows how difficult it is to find support for Gospel values in the marketplace, and his experience of parish life has not always given him or his peers the community support and insight needed for applying the Gospel to everyday life. As he strives to be a better Christian he is often struck by the success of other Christian denominations in formihg communiiies of ~uppon and e~an-gelization. He sees the pri.est ~s a ledder of the faith cbmmunity and recognizes his own talent foi" leading, communicating and creating community. He is asking whether for him priesthood might be the place wherehis gladness and a real hunger meet. The hungers of the world are as many and varied as our gifts. The specificity of one's vocation will emerge as self-understanding and self-love grow into an appreciation of what one has to offer God's people. Truth will meet truth in prayer when self-knowledge comes face-to-face with a cldar, unsettling, inviting vision of the hungers of the world. And that truth will be enlightened by the confident hope won for us in the paschal,mission of Jesus. "What Is Needed Is Trust" Another fruit of prayer and the Christian life is trust. Trust enables us to remember God's deeds on our behalf and gives us confidence that he will care for us now as he has in the past. It enables us to take steps which otherwise we ~would be terrified to take---especially when a vocational~choice confronts us. Answering God's call.means choosing to love in whatever way.love is needed-- it does not mean choosing a new job; and trust in God is needed in order to say "yes" to such an unclea r future. In one of Mike's recent letters he was reflecting on our ministries, his in a mission in Zimbabwe and mine in vocations and personnel work in Memphis. He wrote: Both of us planning and preparing to be parish priests now end up in ministries we each would never have dreamed of and would have run full tilt from if we'd gotten wind of it~ Vocation:~ tVhere Gladness Meets Hunger / 349 before ordination. Maybe that's why Jesus said "Today has enough troubles of its own"---what is left out in that verse is ~lf you knew the troubles of tomorrow you'd be scared to death." Funny they 'don't print t, hat stuff in the Bible. Must They Look for Another? Captive in Herod's prison John the Baptist sends his disciples to Jesus to ask him a question which both scandalizes and indicts us: "Are you 'He who is to come' or do we look for another?" (Mt 11:3). Jesus responds by pointing out the x;ocation he is fulfilling: Go back and report to John what you hear and see: the blind recover their sight, cripples walk, lepers are cured, the deaf hear, dead men are raised to life, and the poor have the good news preached to them (Mt I 1:4-5). The Baptist's question is asked today in countless languages and is born of countless hungers. Jesus responded in his day by, telling John to see in his ministry the fulfillment of Isaiah's prophecy. In our day we can hear our vocation in the question. The Spirit of Truth °helps us discover our deep gladness in sharing the victory of Jesus with God's hungry.world as only each of us can do. NOTES I Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A TheOlogical ABC (New York:. Harper &' Row. Pub-lishers, 1973), p. 95. ~Ernest E. lmrkin~ O. Carm., Silent Presence: Discernment as Process and Problem (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books Inc., 1981), p, 13. ~Henri J.M. Nouwen, The Way of the Heart (New York: The Seabury Press, 1981), p. 30. 4Mother Teresa in a letter to a group sponsonng a~ fund-raising activity on behalf of her ministry. ~Henri J.M. Nouwen, Clowning in Rome (Garder~ City, New York: Image Books, 1979), p. 88. 0T. S.'Eliot, "Journey of the Magi." in T. S. Eliot~."~ Se'lected Poems (Near York: Harcourt~ Brace &" World, Inc., 1964), pp. 98. 7Elie Wiesel, Night (New York: Bantam Books, oi982), p. 3. Mary:= Our Encouragement in Christ Donald Macdonald,= S:M.M. FAther Macdonald'is~vdil kno~,n to our readers. His=How It Strikes a ContemlJomry" appeared. in the January/February issu~ of ifiis yeai. He may .be addressed at St. Joseph's;,Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lanc,; OLI4 5HP; England. ,, Whatever the origin of the phrase "When the disciple is ready the teacher will appear," it seems to be universally valid. If ! am not using the bread and butter which is immediately at hand, I need not expect nourishment from richer more ex~)tic food to be found elsewhere. It will prove indigestible to a starved or weakened system. Equally, having used whatever is available I am perhaps ready for more_substantial fare. Saint Paul ~aid as much centuries ago: "l fed you with milk not solid food; for you were not ready for it; and even yet you are not ready" (1 Co 3:2). The variety of retreats, seminars, courses on offer to-religious today worldwide can illustrate this. Some go to them looking for what they cannot properly give. Not all take as mui:h as they had hoped back to their everyday lives. By the~ same token it is not unfair t'o say that not all of those offering guidance on these courses are qualified to do ~so. Academically they may be ¯ competent and their teaching technique'acceptable, but, presumably, what the Christian enquirer is looking for is more than a combination:of these two skills. One need scarcely go to a Christian institute for that. This is in no way to denigrate the academic, but to suggest that it may not be enough to throw light on the meaning of Christian existence. To restrict the guidance to that level may be to largely miss the point. With so many voices competing for the religious' time and attention how is one to choose? How best use what may be on offer? In the light of the opening sentence it might be practical to heed its-implicit warning. Rather than first scan the brochures and programs with a view to finding light and encourage-ment elsewhere, why not ask oneself.how one is using the resources of one's 350 Mary: Oub Encouragement in Christ own neighborhood? Supposing I choose to go on a course in a twelvemonth from.now, how can I be sure that I am today making best use of what my ordinary environ-ment offers? This would be a.genuinely worthwhile preparation for wheat is. to come. We are open to so very many influences, from the prophets and evange-lists to the anonymous advertiser and third-rate magazine. What other people think can be a dominant influence, none the less powerful for being much of the timeun.~recognized. Is there, therefore, a Christian influence for good in my local area that I-have not tapped and, maybe, ignored? Undoubtedly; there may be several, but I wish to suggest that, unfortunately, perhaps Our Lady may be such for some of us. This is regrettable as "Mary. is. clearly a teacher of the spiritual life for individual Christians."~ A Guide Must See For anyone to,offer guidance presumablyone ~nust see ~A light speaks i'or itself. Arguably one reason for the lack of vocation and commitment among some re!igious is that they, do not see. "As our Congregation is now I,would not encourage anyone to join," is a remark widely heard: A sister at-a gathering of religious,was struck by the sad, tired, almost featureless faces of so many. She thought,of~her.mother and sister who had,lived particularly hard lives, yet seemed,,younger and more alive than her.religious sisters about her.Within such a context~it is unrealistic to call people to follow when self-evidently they do not see the way: "If the tru~mpet gives an.uncertain note, who will get ready for battle?" (1 Co 14:8). ~ There is a degree of insecurity in all of us. The~best of us has but partial vision, "for we walk by faith not by sight~ (2 Co. 5:7). It is all the more encouraging therefore to live in the company of a woman who has known the ¯ fearful insecurity that day-to-da~ life can present, and within that situation,has seen God. "Blessed are the pure of heart ,for they shall see God", (Mt .5:8). Our Lady, immaculate from the moment .of her conception has, therefore, never been coarsened by sin, and has been given in full measure the blessing of seeing God. Her heart was a sheer capacity to receive whatever God would give her: "Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with you., for he who is mighty.has done great things for me" (Lk 1:28, 49). She is thus alert and alive to God ~eyond anything we can understand. So full of the Holy Spirit, that the Word of God once taken root in her heart became enflesl~ed in her body, so that "the child to be born will be called holy, the Son ofGo'd" (Lk 1:35). No creature has ever assimilated the Word of God so complete!y "a.s the Holy Mother of God and the worthy Associate of the Redeemer."2 In other words, "God who had special!y, chos~n~me ~vhil~ still in my m~ther's v~omb, called, me through his ~race hnd chose to reveal hi~'Son in me" (Ga 1:15). If those words ar,,6 true of aul whht d~ they say of Mary? Her entire person is "clothed i~God'i ~hb, i,n her case especially, has taken every thought . . . prisoner, captured to be brought into obedience to Christ" (2 Co 10:5). So, at one with the will of God 352/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 that she is instrumental, in the providence of God, in bringing into~the world a .neck creation in her Son: "For anyone who is in Christ ther~ is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new one is here. It is all God's work" (2 C,o 5:17). She is'the mother of God, a new creation in Christ. Following the biblical tradition, one so pure must see so Clearly. It is God's Spirit who enlightens."The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will Overshadow you" (Lk 1:35), says it all, Her eyesight she shares with most of us. Her insight isa giftfrom God. The unutterable, andin her case, unfettered holiness of God is so present to her, "that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit Within you which you' .have from God. You are not your bwn" (1 Co 6:19). So the Spirit generates the capacity~to See God every-where in a sacramental world, from the joyful expectation of the ~birth-of her Son, to standing crucified with him on Calvary. To see is, therefore, not necessarily to understand, butto b-eliex~e whole-heartedly arid commit oneself totally to God present in every circumstance, so "that I might live to God, I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I wh6 live;~but Christ Who lives in me; and the life Inow live in the flesh I lix~e by ;faith in the Son of God who lo~ed me and gave himself for me" (Ga 2:19-20). Once true of St. Paul, how much more of Our Lady? Her humanity really earths her among us ~s her faith, and so her insight, finds her blessed among us all. She believed, entrusted God with the gift of herself--"Lo me, God's hand: mayd~'---in the lovelywords of Julian of Norwich's translation which seem to express the. courage in vulnerability of every young person with life before them.3 The result is a person wholly "dead to sin and alive,to God in Christ Jesus" (Rm 6:11~). As such, she will leave an enduring mark on the human race, representing light for so~ many as over the centuries "deVotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary is an indication of the 'Church's genuine piety., because it takes its,origin and effectiveness from Christ~ finds its complete e~pression in Christ, and leads'through Christ in the Spirit to the Father.TM Much of this is beautifully focused in Psalm 131. She,might have sat for the portrait,~ ~ O Lord'my heart is not proud nor haughty my eyes. ~ I have not gone after things too great ',n,or marvels beyond me.~ Truly I have set my soul in silence and peace. As a child has rest in its mother's arms, :even so is my soul. " This is the mind of one ~ho sees. Thei~e is no~ a :superfluo~s .word. Eve'ry-thin~ per~pheraihas been stripped away leaving a faith which is'real without b~i~ig"~m~talli~:. MuCh (hat th~ world might ~c~ffei" has been seen and seen through. There is no ~uggestion' bf fear of life, ri~the~ its 'acceptance. :~'Hae 'po~t fiyes life,, takes his stahc~ ~th~n it, not escaping from it. Silence and peace are both powerful and positive possessions'~sugg~ting Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ'/ ~great assurance--in the poet's cage, in God'. His faith is such that it best expresses itself in the child asleep in his mother's arms, the symbol offserenity and trust~ We will never know the price thepsalmist paid for such faith, but the image he presents unmistakably reflects the genuine article. This is why it can speak to us of Our Lady. It is the single gaze of one who looks oh life,from within the vantage point of faith in God, in h~er case, "because God by calling you has joined you to his Son Jestis Christ; and God is faithful" (1 Cb 1:9). Here is the"un~hanging core of changing circumstances: The, religirus looking for a guide to Christian living could' gain much if willing to open themselves to such~agaze "an immense reservoir of silence and pe~ice tested b~y life. The Blessed Virgin Mary offers a calm vision and a reassuring word to modern man."5 This comes from the heart of existence, as Christian reality would have us see that "you are the body of Christ and individually, members 6f it. If bne member suffers, all suffer togethei'; if one member is honored all rejoice together" (1 Co 12:26-27). Remarkably; both Our Lady and the individual religious are "neither male nor,female; for you all one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 4:28). Whatever concerns one concerns the other, and prirticularly in Our Lady's case, the law of the body is lived to "owe no one anything except to love one another" (Rm 13:8). This governs the interchange between them, taki.ng nothing away from ~her preeminent place in the com-munion of saints."6 It isall of a unity as in a living body, yet neither loses their identity. The medium of exchange is knowledge and love heightened in grace, and nothing in human experience is more personal than that. - So the image of mother ~nd child, powerful in any culture, represents a genuine Christian reality. It needs only to be seen to be understood:~ ~and going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother" (Mt 2:11). :~.'. "But standihg by the cross of Jesus [was] his mother" (Jn 19:25), one in flesh and spirit with her Son"at so many levels. ,, "In the Virgin Mary everything is relative to Christ and dependent upon him. 7 That same stance in Christ sh~ takes with us today--however life treats us: The compassionate mother, "so oned in love" ~'ith us in her Son, not least in our suffering and insecm'ity, can bring a depth' of realism to~ the present moment which can transform it in faith.8 Hilaire Belloc superbly expresses what many have seen when, incensed ata Protestant bishol5 ordering the removal from a church of a statue of "a female figure with a child," he felt impelled to respond: Prince Jes~s in mine agony Permit me, broken and defiled Through blurredand glazing eyes to see A female figure with a child. "Ballade of Illegal Ornaments" This is, of course, the prayer of one who sees one of the most comforting realities of the Catholic faith. The vision is from within the everyday Christian community. Belloc's singular poetic gift may express it, but it stems from his common Christian faith. Reality really is like that. There is a realism, purity, ~.354 /Rg.viewfor Religious, May-June, 1985 warmth and concern in the engagingyulnerability and strength of mother and cliild that can clarify the Christian °vision. H,~ere the religious ~n stay today, making grateful, explicit acknowledgme_nt in wooder, that "now the life you have is~hidden with Christ in God. ~.,.~ he is your life" (Col 3:3).,.It is a pr,esent reality not a future hope, seen solely by faith. It is su~,ely no footnote but must follow~ logically, that God having created suc.h a delightful person must-want her known and loved. Clea.rly she means everything to her Son, and whatever the human .race aspires to as all generations call her blessed,.it comes a poor sec0nd~ to how God has loved her in.~Christ. "He wills it to be known ,that all whodeligh(in him should delight in her too, with the same pleasure he has in her and she in him."9 In this instance the medieval~mys.tic only~articulates what the authentic Catholic voice has always known. ¯ G'~do."loved tier for his own sake andhe loved her for our sake too: he gave h~r to himself and he gave her also to us."~0 The disciple was only the first of many who having heard the.crucified Christ say "Behold your mother," from that instant takes her into his own home (see Jn 19:27). For so many she "can walk into the.heart without knocking," as Chesterton said of Doctor Johnson. A Guide Knows The Path An additio.nal, reason for deepening our awareness of the presence of Our Lady is that. because of her calm, God-centered gaze she can help us put together the pieces of a sometimes fragmented life. Part of the ~reason for atte_ndin.g courses and seminars is the hope of learning how to cope with the puzzling present. She, is an ,integral, if ancillary, part of "God in Christ. " reconciling the world, to himself"(2 Co 5:19). She can thus help us see Christ~, ~as~from his conceptiowto ascension and subsequently,,she is intrinsically part of his life, not some external charitable "meals on wheels'? servic~e. Some seem to,see M~ry as a distraction, almost a maverick, drawing attention away from what God has done for us in Christ. So, for example, a London based journalist once wrote of the visit of Pope Paul VI to Fatima,that this wasa clear sign that he should resign. By going there the pope showed that he was obviously afraid of, the contemporary.world and for the Church's place in it, and so he visited ,Fatima as a man might regress to childhood when the adult world becomes all but unbearable. , One did wonder at this opinion when newspapers carried reports oLa million or so people at Fatima at the same time as the Holy Father. One should, of course, be careful of countingheads, but it might ~have given the journalist pause, pontificating from a typewriter in London, exercising power without the responsibility which burdened the pope, to consider whether at least some of those pe0ple~saw something which he did not? "Devotion to the ~Mother of the Lord becomes for the,faithful an opportunity for~growing in divine~grace, and this is the ultimate aim of all pastoral activity."~ Another ,journalist, writing of the present pope's evident ttevotion of, Our Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ / .355 Lady, sees it as something specifically of the man, and not for the' ChUrch. It stems, the journalist"believes, from losing a sick mother when he was nine, -having no sisters, and the on the whole harmful influence of Saint ~Louis-Marie de Montfort'steaching, as well as the particular history of Poland/,Although Pope~ John Paul is a twentieth-century figure, because of~his backgroimd, and not"least the tragic history of Poland leaving such an individual ma'~k on his devotion to Our Lady, "the rest of us can only look on admiringly and wonderingly.''~2 Again, should one be surprised at the journalist writing~so confidently and patronizingly for "the rest of us," speaking presumably for the Christian Catholic world? It is just possible that the pope; too, carl assess the psychological, theological and national influences on himself at least as well as~ the journalist, and has come to a different conclusio~i. One might also consider that whatever influences produced such a twe~ntieth-century Christian man, might be welcomed in a cofitemporary Church suffering i~large part from loss of nerve. Journhlisti~ opinion,is legitimately free. It is un]'air to the'writbr and unwise of the reader to read it as Gospel. o One recalls thejou~rnalist G. K. Chesterton writing of Mary and thdconvert. He came across a rather garish image' of Our Lady in Italy when he wa~ hot yet ¯ a Catholic. "I never doubted that thig was the figure of the ~Faith; that she embodied as a complete human bein~ still only human all that this Thing had to say to humanity. The instant I remembered the Catholic Church I remem-bered her; when I tried to forget the Catholic Church I tried to forget her; when I finally saw what was nobler than m~y fate;the freest and liArdest~of all my'actsbf freedom, it was in front o'f a gilded and very gaudy little imhge of her in'the port of Brindisi that I promised the thing thht 1-would do if I returndd tO my own land."~3 Chesterton delighted ifi the title'0f Catholic and journalist, and Our Lady did:not ~'ragment the faith ,for him. Of course one might research Chesterton's pdsgibly romanticiz6it picture of~ English history, ~is attachmi.~nt to Geoffrey Chaucer, his domestic circumstan-c~ si andso construct an explanation of why.he believed as he did. But ~iould that tell the whole story? OneO~an build'virtually anything on ass~mptidn and inference. The subjective is in the eye of thebeholdei'-.-and assess'0r, tbo ~' wh6 ventures what is at l~e~t an0educated guess. Meanwhild' life ig to be li~ed~= ~2hesterton could never have kept his feet and 'his humor in'his contemporary~ wdrld ona diet of rom~intici~srri, no more than Woiild ~the present pope who tias been brought up in a particularly hard ~cho01. Such men-know'what :the~ believe. Life has tested it. In every individual Christian experience, surely space has to be allowed for" the'presence of the Holy Spirit. This0is~the one Constant factor in everyorfe's life which can never be properlyasgessed. The column may add up to Our satisfac-tion, but in any account of the individhal Christian life the ~fnswer can only be provisional',~a~ so aiuch" can never be known, "for the Spirit reaches, the'depths of everything,~even the depths of G6d . 'Now instead of the spirit of the world we have received the Spirit that comes from God; to teach us to under, 356 /"Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 stand the gifts that he has giyen us" (1 Co 2:!0, 12). The Spirit gives light enabling us to see. If those words are true of the ordinary Christian and Corinth seemed encouragingly full of such pe0ple.---what do they say of Mary? . They speak .volumes for ourselves. They deserve~ time for wonder, reflection and assimilation. Consider a woman who never at any instant put self-will in the way of t6e Spirit's enlightening, energizing presence? As ever, the best that can be sai~ of the Christian is preeminently true of her, as ~'God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us"- (Rm 5:5). Here lies the key to Our Lady as a guide to the Christian, helping to find a ,w9y among so many conflicting paths. Many, enlightened by that same Spirit, "above all . . . had recourse to the Virgin,s intercession in order, to obtain from the Spirit the capacity for engendering Christ in their own souls,"~4 She is~ seen radiating the glory of God. There is no suggestion of the esoteric or the Gnostic. Mother and child imply responsibility. Their needs are .imme-diate and practical. The religious, enlightened by the Spirit to respond to such a God-given presence, will be none the worse f6r the cold douche of realism such company brings. God,is always, in th~ situation but never at our beck and call. Mother and Son have walked every step of the road on earth, "obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Ph 2:8). Familiarity in their case breeds affection and compassion enc.ouraging us to integrate life in faith. A Guide Leads Home Finally, besides helping the religious to see an~l integrate life in God, Our Lady can also reflect the radiance of God's glory. As with the earlier word "delight, fu!," "radiant" is not immediately associated with faith. This isin part because., while the transcendent is real, it is continua~ lly neglected though never in Our Lady's c.omEany. Her personal experience of God left an unfor-gettable imprint upon her. "For:it is the God whq said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' w.ho has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge.of the glory of God inlthe face of Christ" (2 Co 4:6). ff the impa, ct of God in Christ ¯ on Pau~l can~, only be compared to the creation of light, what do those words say "of the Blessed Virgin's free consent and cooperation in the plan. of redemption .w)5 Realityis Christ-centered. Everyone and everything is illumined by his light enab~ling us to see what God islike (glory). The present.moment is then transformed. We need such light to see what,is really ~there, to begin to gfimpse Christian existence. OutLady's .strong, selfless, evocative presence can only help, "for it is not ourselves that we are preaching, but Christ Jesus as the Lor.d, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake" (2 Co 4:5). The words are Paul:s_but the sentiments Mary's too. There is the perspective in which she lives one person in Christ with ourselves. The contemporary religious does not have, a.surfeit of authentic Christian support t9 afford to neglect such a person. And this, let it~be empfiasized, is to be-found in the heart of the Church now, quite literally for the taking. When Paul then goes on to marvelously outline what should be basic Christian experience if only we ~.w,~.h_e speaks Mary: Our Encouragement in Christ / 357 above all for Our Lady, as indeed he speaks for us: "And we with .our'unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of the Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect; this is the work of the Lord who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). Here is genuine Christian visior~, tl~'e'meaning of religious life. The glory of God in Christ transfigures us progrdssively insofar as we ar~ open to the love of God in the present moment~ Life is God giving himself to us in Christ in every circumstance not excluding death. 'Living in faith in Such a world we become like what we see. "Now we are seeing a dim reflection in a mirror; but then we shall be seeing face to face. The knowledge that I have now is imperfect; but then I shall know as fully as I am known" (1 Co 13:12). That knowledge and vision Our Lady now enjoys t~afisfigured in God. The religious might wish that of the many influences on him~known or unknown, the light of God in such a person might not be the least, "for it is impossible to honor her who i~ 'full of grace' (Lk 1:28) without thereby hofior-ing in oneself the state of grace, which is friendship with God, communion with him and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is this divine grace ~vhich takes possession of.the whole man and conforms him to the image of~ the Son of God. (Rm 8:29; Col 1:18)."~6 ~ Living like this implies that contemplation is basic. "Contemplative" does not mean arcane, esoteric, unreal. It is the attempt to live in the present, aware of what~is there; alive to God in Christ now, rather than pining for.a past memory or future hope. Wherever we are God is. The conteml61ative sees the connection. Categories of timd, place, occupation, structure, people, no longer 'shackle as the moment is transfigured in Christ. To the outsider with no faith, it may seem to be attempting to rationalize a welter of characters and evefits into a rather complex artificial plan, rather like the coach planning tactics before a game. But given faith working through love (see Ga 5~6), the Christian finds it progressively simple, though not easy, rather like the player moving almost by reflex once tlie game begins. The time for discussion,is over. Nowis the time for action. To be effective.the need is for interior silence,~stillness and assimila-tion or how else can ond r~cognize what is happening? If there'is,no center only'the peripheral can register. The world of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven might be accessible inthe room in which this is being read, but unless the radio is turned on, and turned to the correct wavelength, it will n~ver be heard.To be unaware of such a world is a pity. To be conscious of it, yet unwilling or unable to switch-it on is real impoverishment. Religious life today may be a Chastening experience, though none the worse for that, perhaps humiliating us~ as we~at last see that nowo~'my one hope and trust is that I shall never have to admit defeat, but that .now as always I shall have the courage for Christ to be glorified in my body whether by my life or by my death. Life to me of coursb is Christ" (Ph 1:20-21). We need~help. We have help if only we see what i~ there. Looking elsewhere for guidance in seminars, retreats and courses is sensible and worthwhile, all things being equal, but, as 1 have tried to suggest, perhaps &~$ / Rey~w for Religious, May, June, 1985 secondary. Even the qssential restructuringof religious~ life may do more for the .system than for the individual~if it leaves me untouched (see, Perfectae Carita-t/ s, n. 4).~A rebuilt community reflecting subsidiarity, psychological well-being .and~pr.acti~! relevance may not be ,enough for meaning eyen if it is for occupatign.~ The danger lies in taking my identity from what I am doing or ot.ber people's estimate of what I am doing. As has been seen so.often these past twenty ye~.rs or s0, once circumstances c~hange, so, too,, can the religious, who~:~nhappily, fiod themselves virtually naked, alone and afraid as the struc-ture which gave th~em stability changes yet again. Their identity came essentially from 0u~ide of th~emselves. What does one do? Build another structure? -.Yes, in part, but as an imperfect person in an imperfect world I cannot expect too much from that. The new model is using the same all too familiar building material. Much better, surely,~to~shouldo'~.more personal responsibility as did Our Lady, who, "in her own,,Particular life, she fully and responsibly accepted the will of God (see Lk 1:38). the first and the most perfect of Christ's disciples."~7 As i cannot realistically legi.slate for anyone else, what room for maneuver, do I have myself?. The scope is immense. ~. . A contemplative reading of the Gospel might suggest that the worid is harsher than,ever we believed possible. Our Lord, we recall, was_crucified with his mother ~s~nding beside him. That is horrific and all too recognizable today. The patterh '.is plainly set out in the Gospel, "for we were so utterly and un~bearably crushed that we despaired of life its'elf., but that was.to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead; he delivered us. '~ and he .will deliver us; on him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again" (2 Co 1:8-10). Note the tenses of those verbs! There speaks authentic Christian experience up to and including the present day. Perhaps I have to make-that experience mine as did Our Lady, St. Paul and countless others? It is a recurring cycle and can ferrify the individual"botl~ in fact and in anticipation. The natural tendency is to run away to another job, anotheg~course, another structure, another place, another explanation. While very understandable, the Gospel does not suggest that salvation is found in that. If there~is any validity in what has been written here, why not look within ones~elf? Since I am christened, perhaps there is more going for me than-I have yet known? God is in every sit .uation everywhere. God is to be glimpsed in.Our Lady~ Saint Paul, the sisters who taught me catechism as a child, and in so many mo~. True, God needs none of these to reach me, no more~than he need use Church or sacrament. But I do need guidance, encouragement and vision. .I need_ .light. Inevitably this means that I need people: ~for .I longto see you . twant to be among you to receive encouragement myself through the influence of'your faith on me as of mine on you" (Rm4:l 1-12). ~ .Left to myself, with my scaled-down model of God made largelY, in my own image, my religious life might be spent with the small changeor petty cash of experience. What a pitiful waste! Whereas with the strong, challenging, Mary:. Our Encouragement 'in Christ understanding presence of Our Lady at the heart of the ~hurch as reflected in the Gospel, I migh[ (will?) find in her_~omp~ny a light which ha§.brought so many to her Son in the centuries of the Church. One in Christ through baptism, even if only partially glimpsed, will show that she is no more of a static fixture in a stained glass window than I am myself. It is not' the juxtaiaosition of immobile figures in a quasi,infinite hierarchy. There is no need to attempt some uneasy collage. That is for a museum not the Church. "Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?. So that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life?" (Rm 6:3-4). "All of us" are alive in Christ! Our Lady, so graced by God as to be supremely one in him, is therefore especially alive and active. The clo~er one is to Christ the more one is alive and active. She compels no one. She is simply there. As to the cautionary opening sentence of this article--the Christ!an disciple by reason of need alone ought always to be ready for help. Sub tuum praesidium is a very ancient prayer. NOTES ~Marialis Cultus, C.T.S., London: 1974, n. 21. ~ 21bid, n. 15. ~Julian of Norwich, A~Re'velation of Love, ed. M.rGlasscoe, Exeter: 1976, eh. 4. ¯ 4Marialis Cultus, Introduction, pp. 8-9, .'~ .5lbid, n. 57. 61bid, n 28. " 71bid, n. 25. o s Julian of Norwich, op. cit., ch. 18. 9Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love, e~l. C. ~/oltors, London: 1973, ch.~25. ' iOMari~lis Cultus, n. 56 " ~ ' °. " ~qbid, n. 571 ,2p. Hebblethwaite, "The Mariolo~y of Three P0pes,t' Way Supplement, No. 51, October, '1~984, p. 68. " ~3G. K. Chesterton, The Well, and the.Swallows, London: 1906, p. 176. ~ ,, ~ ~Marialis Cultus, n. 26. ~5lbid~ n. 6.~ : ~Ibid, n. 57. ~Ibid, n. 35. Information to.,Transformation: An Integrated Spirituality for theoReligion Tea cher J. J. Mueller, S.J. Father Mueller came to St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies in the summer of 1994 from Gonzaga University (Portland) where he had been teaching theology. He may be addressed at St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108. Most articles begin in predictable ways: a statement of purpose, a thesis, a definition, or perhaps a description of the topic ~at hand. This one will be different, not to be different but to shake the cobwebs from what we have become familiar with. Let's begin with a flight of the imagination. Imagine yourself as a visitor from another planet on ~mission to investigate th~ educational habits of earthpeopl~. You have visited the North American continent because it has beautiful blue oceans bordering it which doi~ exist on your pl~anet, and as long as you have to make a long trip in the galaxy you might as well choose a beautiful setting. While fact-finding, you discover that there are two educational systems. You have visited the public school system and now it is time to visit the private system, particularly the Catholic schools. You are beamed down.to from your spaceship to the school (where 5;ou' are piesently teaching). Looking at your school, you as the other-world visitor discover a teacher who does not exist in the other system: the teacher of religion. Your curiosity is piqued. You conclude that by occupation these teachers of religion serve a unique educational role and distinguish the character of Catholic education. Perhaps they have special power in the society? No, it seems that the occupation of a teacher of religion is a powerless job; that more than 99% of the population does not seek the job but wants others to accept the job. Perhaps a teacher of religion cams more money, then, because the job is so selective? No again. 36O o ~ Information to Transformation Religion teachers earn less than most people and even less than fellow teachers. ~Well, perhaps a teacher of religion is a terrible service jobthat no one wants but ."someone has to do it?" Wrong again. The schools themselves state that the reason they are a rival education~il-system is precisely to educate students with rrespect to religion. As a'~isitor from another planet, you are becoming frustrated trying to analyze exactly what the teacher of religion is. Underpaid, overworked, and not receiving the i~ppreciation he deserves, a teacher of religion does not resemble any other occupation. Perhaps, then, a teacher of religion is a kind of spiritml person unique to .this society? No again. Religion teachers seem to be no better or worse thhn anyone else. They don~tbecome presidents or even principals,' let alone bishops or saints. There may not even be a patron saint for religion teachers. Then perhaps religion teachers are like grandparents who keep tradition alive and transmit wise moral norms? Wrong again. Reli-gion teachers are often considered iconoclasts, reactionaries, andparents can be heard to utter the judgment: "They donX teach the doctrine that I learned at school." With the spaceship ready io leave, you have to make the final report. Y6u write, "Religion teache~:s are the most unique teachers inall the earthly world. They function as teachi~rs but are more like spiritual leaders. It ~secms that humans aren't chosen for this role but, instead, a few offer to commit themselves to this role thereby becoming public symbols of what life is all about. By occupation, they seem to represent what is distinctive of Catholic education. They carry the traditions of the earth and at the same time create the possibil-ity of a better future. Perhaps they could be summed up as those in education who work at informing students about the'transforming quality of human life. With this report, the visitor returns to a planetofar, far away. My flight of the imagination has less to do with an exercise of the imagina-tion than a new congtruct by which to appreciate the unique role of the teacher. of religion in our world. Our alien's report that "humans aren't chosen for this role but, instead a few offer to commit themselves to this role"expresses what I think is the essential element in religion teaching and the topic that I wish to address. The teacher of religion is one who commits him or her self to the occupation of transforming others. As a commitment, the occupation most resembles a vocation, i.e., a "calling." We use the word~ vocation in education--for example as in vocational training--to signify occupations. I mean "vocation" both in that sense--a person has, an occupation or job as a teacher, andin the sense of a spiritual charge--a person responds to a faith community to discharge faith responsibil-ities of that community. The teacher of religion then lives the dual role of teacher and minister. it seems to me that some reflection should be done on the integration"of these two responsibilities in light of the commitment. In theological talk we are speaking about'spirituality. Spirituality means the behavioral.living out of. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1985 Christian faith through particular religious convictions and commitments. Although many possible spiritualities exist and more wiil occur, I believe that the teaching of religion makes a consistent claim for an integrated spirituality that brings together the various respon.sibilities, or obligations, ~of a church, school, family, and individual wherein life is interpreted. At the same time the responsibility proceeds in the same manner: from information to transforma-tion. In sum, an integrated spirituality unifies the pr~ocedural dynamic_ within the various communities 'of interpretation. Rather than speak about how to teach religio.n, this presentation focuses upon.the religion~teacher. The concern is not the pedagogy in.the classroom, i.e., how to present material, but how. to live both inside and outside the classroom influenced by the commitment to teaching religion .within a faith community.~The model of spirituality that I offer comes from the model of student-te~acher relatignship of Jesus and hisofollowers: what we call disciple-ship. Discipleship as Jesus defined it in action is.unlike any other. ~The relation-ship between Jesus and his disciples reflects the relation of Jesus to God. Discipleship to~day continues to take as its model the relationship of Jesus to God and the disciples' relation to¯ Jesus. The relationship of Jesus to the F~ather, and the disciples to Jesus has three stages: God calls a person in a given situation, one hears in a situation, and then that person is sent out or what is called missioned. Part I: God Call~ Us ° The first important factor is that the teacher of religion is a Christian who believes. Never is a religion teacher considered a mere communicator of knowledge. The teacher is expected to be living alife of faith. Very~ simply, to live a life of.faith implies an ongoing commitment to the self-communication of~ God. For the Christian, the interpretation of belief resides in Jesus Christ and the power of his life that flows out actively in our own day through the Holy Spirit. The believer then becomes a disciple in the twentieth century in continuity with Jesus' life,.death and resurrection. To be a disciple, according to the synoptic Gospels, implies "to pick up one's cross and follow me." What, is the nature of this cross for disciples? In mode~rn language we~might describe it as the "cross of reality".where God calls us in our situation today. If you will imagine~ ~a cross like Jesus died on. with horizontal and vertical lines, then the disciple, like Jesus. embraces the extremes of each crossbar with most of the body centered in the middle. The four dimensions of the cross of reality are: backward, forward,, inward and outward. These are the four extremes that comprise our situation to hear God and respond accordingly. Backward Backward : means the past. It implies two thousan~l years of Christian tradition inserted into a longer historical tradition wherein .I find myself today. Information to Transformation / 363 I am.born into the :middle of a' story that is unfolding, Hence the weightof that tradition rests upon me. I am an individual believer within that tradition and I possess a communal identity. The teacher of religion is not free to discard this tradition and the identity which, flows forth: whether Scrii~ture, the doctrinal history of the Church, or the history of the Church herself. Because we are constantly being re-created in~ continuity with our past, we .Christians have long memories that speak of .God's continued interaction with us: If ], am. to respond as a disciple today, I :cannot betray.my past. Forward Forward means the future: It implies .that Christians do not stan~d still like settlers but move ever outward like pioneers. As pilgrims "on the way" who journey through life with feet solidly set upon the earth, we seek thekingdom~ of God where love reigns and,empowers everything. Hence~ Christians are-people of hope who depend upon the re-creative actipn of the Holy Spirit to make all things new. The teacher of religion proclaims this forward transfor-mation of life in love as .the purpose of all that we do . ~ Inward . ,~, , ~ ~ -~,~Inward means the individual.° It implies that God has given me_~lJrimary-responsibility over my own self. I make the decision either to center everything in,my life in God or not. My physical environment'which is called a body, my~ psychological and emotional life;and myspirit comprise my inwarddimension. These o.too are influenced~ by-other .factors such as family, chemicals, ~disease, temper~ament and love. Hence, beinga Ch.ristian implies being totally in.touch with the various dimensions of.what constitutes me as a human beingin order to hand everything of my self over to the Lord.The teacher of religion is a believer who continually works on this inward dimension of handing his or her very self totally over to the Lord. - Outward ~ ,~ Outward means other people. It implies all the social relationships which comprise human life. No one is an island and Christian belief never stops with the,individual. It is thoroughly corporate, first in those who believe called church°and secondly in the connect

Issue 57.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1998. ; religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for. shared reflection on the lived experience~ of all who find, that the church's rich heritages of gpirituality support their personal and apostolic ¯ Christian lives. The articles in ~he journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the .Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) cbntained 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 perxnission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for r ligiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 34 48 leadership Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era Sandra M. Schneiders IHM offers an analysis of changing worldviews as an aid to understanding present-day religious congregations and exercising effective leadership in them. Leadership for the Common Good Donna J. Markham OP focuses on three areas of leadership skill development: conflict management, guarding against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium Anne Munley IHM sees congregational leadership as being the work of impassioned hearts sharing, finding, and making meaning in concert with all the members, with a view to warm cooperation in endeavors of burning urgency. 60 67 tradition Stability: A Monastic Charism Retrieved Joel Rippinger OSB explores stability as a matter of heart and place in the light of contemporary rootedness. History's Role in Defining Spiritual Direction Steve R. Wigall proposes that contemporary spiritual direction needs to embrace openly its historical and theological variety. Review for Religious 77 88 prayer Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are They Contemplation? Ernest E. Larkin OCarm takes a discerning look at contemporary personal prayer practice and terminology against the background of centuries-long traditions. Union with God according to John of the Cross Paul J. Bernadicou SJ describes some aspects of the sanjuanist process towards intimacy with God. departments 4 Prisms 94 Canonical Counsel: Life Consecrated by Profession of the Evangelical Counsels 100 Book Reviews Jant~aty-Februat~ 1998 I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life. prisms 4 T citizens of the United States in recent years have been reinforcing a reputation for being a people that has lost its sense of the sanctity of human life. After a brief lull in the use of the death penalty for what is considered heinous crimes, more and more individual states have been seeking execution for serious crimes committed by both men and women. Then, when we look to the beginning of life, we find that abortion in the United States, even in late term, is justified through the most permissive legal understanding allowed by any Western nation. Finally, when we consider the possible end of life, assisted suicide for the elderly or for the chron-ically ill is already legal in one state and is being promoted by a number of people who defend what is euphemisti-cally called "mercy killing." As we come ~o the last years of this millennium, this most powerful, prosperous, and well-educated nation is sadly being identified as a people that readily "takes life." The year 1998 focuses upon the Holy Spirit in our Christian preparations for entering into the third millen-nium guided by the pastoral plan presented to us by Pope John Paul. Whatever the strength of our faith, the Holy Spirit is the Trinitarian Person most difficult for us to talk about, t9 imagine, and to relate to. Spirit, breath, wind, love, fire are words that in themselves have no face nor even a substance that can be grasped. And yet these are some of the common, traditional words applied to the One we call the Third Person of our Trinitarian God. We might, though, begin this second year of our preparations for the millennium by calling in prayer upon the Spirit by a name appropriate to the times in which we live. Review for Religious In the Nicene Creed we express our belief in the Person called the Holy Spirit, professing first that he is Lord God and then designating this Person as "the Giver of life." What a wonderful identity--Giver of life--especially in regard to a people earning a reputation as "takers of life." It seems obvious that a basic gift we seek from God in this year 1998 is a renewed reverence, respect, and appreciation for human life. Throughout this year, perhaps we all need an examination of conscience on behavior involving us as "takers of life." "Takers of life" can involve an attitude which sullies our approach to any part of God's creation--each part a gift from God. We can become so self-centered that everything--from the ecological environ-ment to the earth's resources to human life itself--is viewed in its value now for us. Takers of life know no gratitude, for life is not seen in terms of gifting but only in terms of getting, a disease of a consumer society. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will inspire and guide our efforts to be, like God, gi,vers of life. The age-old prayer still speaks out our desire: "Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful." Review for Religious continues to have its own experience of life being given to us. New life continues to flow into our Advisory Board as some members finish their term of service, and new members join. We welcome Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, vice-provincial of the USA province of the Daughters of St. Paul and executive director of the twenty Pauline Book and Media Centers in the USA and English-speaking Canada. She is also the direc-tor of Paulinas Distribudora, the Daughters' Hispanic media dis-tribution center, and the director of the National Association of Pauline Cooperators, the lay collaborators of the Daughters of St. Paul. In addition we welcome Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, bishop of the diocese of Yakima, Washington. Bishop Sevilla serves as a member of the NCCB committees on Hispanic affairs and on religious life and ministry. Before his ordination as bishop, he had filled administration and formation roles in the Society of Jesus (California province). Farewells are always harder to express than welcomes. I want to express my appreciation to Father Edmundo Rodriguez SJ and to Sister Iris Ann Ledden $SND for their many contributions to the advisory board over the years of their service. We remain grateful for their continuing interest and support. David L. Fleming SJ January-Febr~,aot 1998 o o o o o o leadership SANDRA M. SCHNEIDERS Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era In addressing the issue of leadership in congregations which are increasingly influenced by the emergence of cultural postmodernism, I write not as one who is engaged in leadership or trained in the fields of organization and management, but as a theologian reflecting on the spiri-tuality of contemporary religious. But part of my prepa-ration for these reflections involved talking with a number of religious in leadership positions, asking them what were the major challenges they faced as leaders. One woman, by means of a highly symbolic vignette, epitomized what many others expressed. She said that, if one prepared an agenda for a meeting far enough ahead of time for the participants to come prepared, the first item on the agenda would be the revision of the agenda because the actual situation in the congregation would have changed so sig-nificantly that neither the items on the agenda nor their relative importance would be what they had been when the agenda was formulated. In other words, the challenges about which leaders talked were not so much specific problems but pandemic unpredictability and uncontrol-lability. While leaders face particular challenges because of Sandra M. Schneiders IHM presented this paper, here slightly revised, to the Leadership Conference of Woxnen Religious on 23 August 1997 in Rochester, New York. She is professor of New Testament Studies and Christian Spirituality at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where her address is JSTB; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709. Review for Religious their public role and more global responsibilities, the situation which makes leadership so difficult today is the same one all of us in religious life face, namely, the context of chaos within which we are trying to live religious life coherently and minister effectively. It is this peculiarly contemporary experience and its significance for spirituality that requires analysis and engagement. Whether or not we articulate it explicitly, we are always living, thinking, working within and out of some implicit worldview which defines both the problems and the potentialities of our historical situation.~ Until we come to some understanding of that world-view, we stand little chance of developing an operative spirituality. How we understand reality in general, religious life in particular, and our own congregation specifically determines what we think we are doing as religious leaders or followers. A worldview is like light or a pair of glasses. We do not notice its role in what and how we see until it flickers or gets cloudy. Furthermore, until relatively recently we were unaware of the plurality of worldviews because we thought that what we saw was simply what is, rather than what is visible through a particular set of lenses which not everyone in the world is wearing. Until the mid-sixties Catholics in general and religious in particular lived within a peculiarly schizophrenic worldview whose intrinsic con-tradictions seldom came clearly into view. Within the institution and culture of the cht~rch, we lived out of a medieval worldview in which society was organized according to an ontologically based, and therefore unchangeable, hierarchy of status and roles; in which all reality could and must be explained in the categories of an Aristotelian/Thomistic philosophy and the-ology; and in which the next world, and therefore religion, held a clear priority over the present world and its concerns. However, outside the church arena we lived out of a modern worldview in which democratic capitalism constructed an economically com-petitive society within a deceptive rhetoric of personal equality. The explanation of reality in this modern world was supplied by the confluence of the dualistic philosophy of Descartes, the mechanistic physics of Newton, the deterministic biology of Darwin, and the materia.listic hydraulics of Freudian psychology. The practical priority of this world over the afterlife was expressed in the banishing of religious concerns from public life to the pri-vate realm of family and church. Although these two worldviews, medieval and modern, were Januat3,-Februat~y 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality largely incompatible, what they had in common may be more sig-nificant for our present considerations than how they differed. Both of these worldviews presented chaos as the ultimate enemy and order as the ultimate good. It is hardly surprising, then, that we are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpre-dictability and uncontrollability of so much of our experience today. And, the more people, property, and projects we are respon-sible for, the more threatening and even paralyzing widespread chaos in our domain of responsibility is likely to be. However, as cultural critics are increasingly convinced, the modern worldview itself is rapidly giving way to what is being called postmodernirm, a worldview that is still largely inchoate and unarticulated, but which is actually conditioning our experience more deeply and extensively than we can yet appreciate.2 Characteristic of this emerging worldview is what is being called the "new science" or quantum physics,3 which is not only calling into question the adequacy of Newtonian science to explain the natural or physical world, but implying the necessity for a new, cosmologically based philosophy that sees much deeper connec-tions between matter and spirit, between humans and the rest of reality, between this world and whatever transcends it.4 Implied in the collapse of the classical dualisms is ~i revisioning of chaos and order which may open up some possibilities for reinterpreting our present experience within religious life. Although I have been reading voraciously in the new science for a while, I do not claim to understand, much less be able to explain, quantum physics. What I want to do, however, is to use a few of its basic categories, namely, autopoietic structures, fields, and strange attractors, as metaphors for thinking about contem-porary experience in religious congregations. After exploring these categories from the new science in relation to religious life, I will try to make'some suggestions that are theologically sound, spir-itually vital, and culturally plausible about our current experience of religious life and leadership. Autopoietic Structures Margaret Wheatley, in her wonderfully provocative book Leadership and the New Science, brings together new ideas from biology, chemistry, and quantum physics which are analogous in suggesting that order and chaos are not contradictories, but that Review for Religious order emerges from chaos as from its matrix,s Furthermore, con-trol is not synonymous with order nor does it produce stability. Rather, control causes a deadly immobility or stasis which ulti-mately dooms the structure to disintegration. This phenomenon of the constructive relationship between chaos and order is characteristic of living organisms. Erich Jantsch, whom Wheatley cites, describes autopoiesis as "the characteristic of liv-ing systems [by which they] continu-ously renew themselves and., regulate this process in such a way that the integrity of their structure is main-tained.'' 6 In other words, living things maintain their integrity and identity not by eliminating change, but by continu-ous, dynamic interaction with their environment. It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal! However, the history of religious life in the United States from the 19th century until Vatican II was character-ized by steadily increasing equilibrium and control and steadily decreasing interaction with the environment.7 After the chaotic pioneering days--when our founders and foundresses braved the rigors of frontier life using everything that came to hand, secular and profane included, to survive personally and institutionally-- American religious life settled into a rigidly defined and tightly controlled pattern within an increasingly battened-down eccle-siastical institution. Interchange with the environment was ever more stringently controlled and, to the extent possible, elimi-nated. We understood our congregations as Newtonian machine-like systems composed of virtually identical parts, operating according to established laws of motion codified in Rules and. customs books and functioning best when no part acted in orig-inal, that is, "singular" ways. Leaders functioned somewhat like factory managers maintaining strict control (erroneously seen as order) for the sake of spiritual and ministerial efficiency. Newtonian physics, which supplied this machine model for all systems, also gave us the laws of thermodynamics which gov-ern such systems. The second law of thermodynamics tells us that, when a system reaches equilibrium, entropy or disintegration We are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpredictability and uncontrollability of so mucl of our experience today. Janllary-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality sets in. We moderns learned that this law of increasing entropy or the inevitable wearing down of systems was also characteristic of living things (which we understood as basically very complicated machines) and certainly true of organizations such as religious congregations.8 What the new science is telling us is that social organizations are not entropic like machines, but more like living organisms, which are autopoietic, that is, self-renewing. The basis of autopoiesis or self-re-creation is the openness of organisms to their environment. As Wheatley says, Each structure has a unique identity, a clear boundary, yet it is merged with its environment . What we observe. ¯ in all living entities, are boundaries that both preserve us from and connect us to the infinite complexity of the out-side world. Autopoiesis, then, points to a different universe. Not the fragile, fragmented world we attempt to hold together, but a universe rich in processes that support growth and coherence, individuality and community.9 When we look at religious congregations of the 1950s, we see relatively hermetically sealed organizations operating accord-ing to the quantitative laws of mechanics. Numbers, material resources, institutional agencies of influence, and hierarchical control of all operations were the sources of efficiency. The cat-aclysm of Vatican II and its immediate predecessors in religious life such as the Sister Formation Movement suddenly opened these closed systems to their environment. New information of all kinds flooded the system. Sisters studied new disciplines in secu-lar as well as religious universities and interacted with a variety of people they formerly would never have encountered in any mean-ingful way. The mass media and the uncensored contents of libraries burst through the boundaries of the closed system. And then Vatican II called on congregations to reevaluate those old-world traditions which had so effectively kept religious out of the mainstream of American culture. Ministries changed dramatically and, with them, living situations. Contacts with other religious and with the laity, stringently rationed in previous times, broad-ened and deepened. In short, religious congregations suddenly drew deep breaths of fresh air and discovered that they were not ecclesiastical robots but sociospiritual organisms, living systems in vital interaction with their environment. Increasingly congregations, and their relatively uniform mem-bers, began to exhibit the characteristics of autopoietic structures. Review for Religious Perhaps the most unsettling characteristic is that a healthy liv-ing system is in a continuous state of disequilibrium. New infor-mation, constantly flowing into the system from the environment, challenges it to respond, to change, and to develop without loss of integrity or identity. There is no settling down, no way to call off the bombardment of the new and just be. There are no per-manently right answers, no one correct way to do things, no abso-lute authority. The organism is always off balance. Local chaos is the normal condition out of which global order is continuously being both threatened and resourced. Another characteristic of autopoietic structures, precisely because they are not in balance but precariously poised in the turbulence of a constantly changing ambiance, is that very small influences can have very significant effects on the system. In mechan-ical entities, significant change is usually proportionate to the mass of the influencing agents. Large groups, sizable funds, long-range plans are necessary to alter the status quo. But in a living system a small agent, for example, a virus, can have tremendous impact because it can galvanize the whole organism into response.'° The effect of one book like The Nun in the Modern World, or one speaker like Theresa Kane, is out of all proportion to the mass of the cause. One person generating negative energy can immobilize a whole assembly while one visionary chapter pro-posal can propel the whole congregation into self-renewal. A third feature of living systems is that they are programmed toward life. In this respect they are the very antithesis of the machine. Once entropy has set in, the machine inevitably and irreversibly winds down toward disintegration.11 But, even when very diminished, very endangered, the living system is mobilized toward self-renewal, toward regeneration. I think the merging of some small communities and the combining of facilities among others are examples of this salmonqike burst of upstream energy characteristic of open systems. Fourth, self-organizing systems'are bundles of competencies, "portfolios of skills," rather than collections of optimally func-tioning units,lz This feature has been ve.ry prominent in post-conciliar congregations. V~rhen individual religious or congregations decide that a particular institution or form of ministry no longer responds to the environment and they reconfigure competencies to meet new needs, it seems to me that they are manifesting an organic self-understanding, not, as some seem to think, a des- January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality perate need to' find something useful to do until the corporate lights go out. Fifth, as Wheatley says, self-r~newing systems are "structures that seem capable of maintaining an identity while changing form. They exhibit "global stability" over time even as their subsystems undergo enormous, seemingly chaotic, change. I was struck by this feature of living systems when I first saw the Great Barrier Reef, the largest organism on earth. This enormous living sys-tem has a form that makes it so distinct from its oceanic envi-ronment that it is even recognizable from the moon, and yet every cell of its vast expanse is undergoing incessant change. Most reli-gious can remember the stupendous resistance to even minor, external changes in religious congregations on the eve of Vatican II. We could hardly conceive of a maintenance of identity through incessant change, and any attempt to engage the environment seemed like a sellout to secularity. But autopoietic structures main-tain their identity precisely by changing in response to environ-mental influence. Obviously not all living systems survive, much less thrive. What determines whether an organism will successfully negotiate what Wheatley calls the "bifurcation point" where the choice between death and transformation occurs? ~4 Wheatley maintains that the deciding factor is what she calls the principle of "self-ref-erence." Healthy organisms do not change randomly or in any and all directions. Rather, they change in ways that are both respon-sive to the environment arid consistent with their own already established identity. A firmly established identity makes the organ-ism both responsive and resilient, both dialogical and autonomous. Whereas a static system constructs external boundaries, fences designed to keep out the influence of the environment and hold the assemblage of units together, the healthy organism develops organic boundaries which make it increasingly autonomous in relation to external pressures even as it remains deeply involved in the ongoing process of iriterchange. Unlike a fence which sim-ply walls out the "other," the organic surface of the Great Barrier Reef is both a resource for relationship with the environment and a self-defining boundary. "Self-reference is what facilitates orderly change in turbulent environments.''~5 This raises directly the question of identity. If religious life itself, religious congregations, and individual religious are open, autopoietic systems whose incessant interaction with the envi- Review for Religious ronment is governed by the principle of self-reference, that is, fidelity to core identity in the midst of continual disequilibrium, what establishes that identity? How is it recognized and main-tained? Fields To begin to get some purchase on this issue, I want to intro-duce a second metaphor from the new science, the familiar but mysterious category of "field." Religious life has always involved the creation by some Christians, "religious virtuosi" in the ter-minology of sociologist Patricia Wittberg,'6 of an alternative "world" within which to live their faith, whether that was a sociologi-cal, geographical, or institutional reality construction.~7 The expres-sion so often used for entering reli-gious life, namely, "leaving the world," was a negative articulation of the positive act of choosing an alternative arena for one's life. Today, speaking of entering reli-gious life as "leaving the world" is so probleinatic as to be counterpro-ductive. Nevertheless, there is something about religious life which distinguishes it from other forms of life. It has an identity. Like the Great Barrier Reef, it stands out from its cultural and ecclesiastical environment even while being involved in continu-ous interchange with it. Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life than the quasi-geo-graphical one of alternative world is the category of "fields." Science has made us aware that reality is composed not pri-marily of substances but of space. Space, however, is not empty. Rather, "space everywhere is now thought to be filled with fields, invisible, non-material structures that are the basic substance of the universe."ls Fields are invisible geometries structuring space, invisible media of connection bringing matter an&or energy into form. We cannot see fields any more than we can see space, but we can observe the effects of fields on that which comes within their influence. We have all seen this mysterious phenomenon in operation when iron filings come within the field of magnetic Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life is the category of "fields." January-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality influence and arrange themselves in certain patterns. Wheatley hypothesizes that personal and corporate space is also filled with fields, both positive and negative, and that, when the personal fields of the people in an organization intersect with the corpo-rate fields of the organization itself, certain predictable behav-iors are manifest. I find this metaphor very descriptive of a frequently experi-enced phenomenon, namely, that the same people behave very differently in situations which do not, exteriorly, differ notice-ably. Something "in the air" (or, perhaps more accurately, "in the space") affects them, for good or ill, and often everyone in the situation is similarly affected. We sometimes call it morale, or good or bad energy, or social climate. Sometimes we even speak of being "in good or bad space." We also know that an individual who is personally "in bad space" either can be pulled out of it by entering positive corporate space or can cause positive space to curdle. Social space, in our experience, seems to be really invisi-bly structured. Perhaps this metaphor of fields could help illuminate the issues of corporate and personal identity that religious have strug-gled with for years under the rubrics of "charism" and "vocation" and their intersection in the mysterious corporate identity prin-ciple called the "spirit of the congregation." Probably the only thing we have agreed on in regard to charism is that it is a mys-terious something that generates a certain recognizable congre-gational identity. Some have tried to equate it with the congregation's traditional ministry, or to identify it as a grace given to the foundress which was somehow passed on to later members, or to find it embodied in a characteristic spirituality. None of these explanations has proved very satisfactory, and all fail in relation to one or another congregation. Wheatley suggests that social fields are generated as people converse, share their visions and hopes, work out their problems, develop modes of interacting, participate in common projects, elaborate symbols and myths to articulate their shared identity and experience?9 In other words, groups create or generate fields. When coherent fields are generated in corporate space, people are drawn together; they begin to act in corporate ways. Eventually the group ethos can be recognized in the members. This sounds very much like what we mean by charism, an invis-ible structuring of corpor.ate space which manifests itself in the Review for Religious indefinable "something common" that is visible in the attitudes and behaviors of all the members. Furthermore, fields, once gen-erated, can outlast the individuals or groups that generated them. Perhaps what comes down through history from our foundations is not some work, set of rules, or uniform spirituality to which new members must conform, but a structured shared space that continues to give common form to ever new energy coming into the congregation in new members. When a new individual comes into this space, her own per-sonal fields intersect with the corporate fields of the congregation and the person is either drawn into and ener-gized by this cgrporate space or not. If vocation were understood as a certain constellation of overlapping fields in an individual personality's inner space, structuring that person's energy and behavior, her entering a congregation would involve the intersection of her personal vocational field with the fields of the particular congregation, especially its charism. Vocational discernment could be understood, then, as try-ing to discover if her personal fields and the congregation's corporate fields are mutually compatible and enriching or not. When the fields that structure the inner space of an individual (that is, her own voca-tion or life call) intersect creatively and har-moniously with the fields that structure the corporate space of a congregation (that is, its charism and other characteristic fea-tures), we often say that the person has "the spirit of the congre-gation." When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Perhaps what we mean by the spirit of the congregation is the global identity of the group as it manifests itself within the complex of fields that invisibly but really structures the personal into the cor-porate. 2° To use this field metaphor for understanding charism, voca-tion, and the spirit of the congregation does not reduce these realities to the purely natural any more than accounting for the universe by the theory of the "big bang" or for human emergence by evolution denies the divine role in creation. The metaphor simply offers us a more organic way of understanding the human When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality experience of stable and shared congregational identity in the midst of incessant change. It also provides a possible answer to the question about self-reference as the key to coherence for an open, autopoietic sys-tem experiencing continuous life-giving disequilibrium. In a sense, nothing observable in the congregation remains the same--type of ministry, horarium and content of spiritual exercises, commu-nity lifestyle, dress codes, financial practices, patterns ~of inter-acting-- but the field, the spirit of the congregation, in which all the change takes place can account for the ever new order which arises out of the seemingly chaotic pluralism and incessant vari-ation that characterize the community's day-to-day life over time. The Strange Attractor A third possibly illuminating metaphor, drawn from the new science, is that of the "strange attractor," a simple example of which many of us have seen as the computer screen saver of inces-santly changing lines and curves which maintain a moving form that is never repeated. Wheatley says this about the "strange attractor": Chaos theory has given us images of "strange attractors"-- computer pictures of swirling motion that trace the evolu-tion of a system. A system is defined as chaotic when it becomes impossible to know where it will be next. There is no predictability; the system never is in the same place twice. But as chaos theory shows, if we look at such a sys-tem long enough and with the perspective of time, it always demonstrates its inherent orderliness. The most chaotic of systems never goes beyond certain boundaries; it stays con-tained within a shape that we can recognize as the system's strange attractor . '~ This description seems very pertinent to the history of religious life, not to mention that of individual congregations. Religious life has undergone so much movement, so much deep-level change, that it is indeed impossible to know where it will be next. It is never in the same place twice. At times it seems to be in total disarray. And yet, over its nearly two-thousand-year history, it demonstrates a moving pattern which makes it recognizable, distinguishable against the background field of ecclesial life. What, we may ask, is the strange attractor of religious life? A strange attractor is a basin for the system's activity that Review for Religious pulls all activity within the system into a form or shape but with-out immobilizing the system or reducing its inner variety to pre-dictability. The strange attractor itself is not visible. It manifests itself by its power to allow a few simple "instructions," for exam-ple, equations, to repeat and intersect as they feed back upon themselves in an infinite variety of ways so that these iterations create analogous forms at finer and finer levels. These forms are what we call fractals, repetitions at various levels of scale that manifest the whole in each part. Our most homely example is probably a head of broccoli in which each flowerette, down to the tiniest, repeats the pattern of the whole head. But we can see it also in the computer image of lines and curves, or in the clouds, or in a branch of fern. VVheatley was moved to ask the question about the strange attractor when she observed that, in terminally dysfunctional sys-tems verging on collapse, where almost everyone had psycholog-ically abandoned ship and survival had become the only agenda, there were some individuals within the dysfunctional system who continued to be personally centered, creative, and productive. Amid corporate disintegration, personal order. She also observed--in healthy organizations which allowed maximum autonomy, even seeming chaos, at the local level--that the seem-ingly chaotic variety at the local level did not lead to disintegra-tion, but to a kind of global order and stability. Out of local chaos, global order. Somehow the creative individuals in the disinte-grating systems and the healthy organizations permitting high levels of local autonomy were pulled into coherence as if a strange attractor were at work. Her highly suggestive conclusion is that the strange attractor in both cases is meaning generated by a "frame of reference," that is, a coherent vision and pattern of val-ues, which gives direction to all the seemingly disparate activity. Meaning, vision, values, however, are formal categories. What vision, what values, what meaning might be the strange attractor of religious life that accounts for its self-identity and coherence, its fractal wholeness and beauty, through nearly two millennia of chaotic movement in an often dysfunctional church?22 More importantly, is the strange attractor still at work, still generating a recognizable lifeform today in what might be one of the most chaotic periods of development in the history of religious life? Are there a few "equations" that have iterated throughout these two millennia in thousands of different fractal realizations man- January-February 1998 Schneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality ifesting the strange attractor that keeps this lifeform coherent and true to itself?. From the time of the lst-century virgins until it was pro-claimed anew by Vatican II, the basic principle, the fundamental "equation," has been that religious life is essentially gospel life. The pattern of the life has been the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, perhaps the ultimate instance of order out of chaos, that is, life out of death. Of course, religious life shares this deter-mining equation with all Christian life. But religious life has also always been distinguished from lay Christian life by the particu-lar way religious have entered into the paschal mystery of Christ, by the specifically religious "equation," namely, by the life of con-secrated celibacy lived in community and mission. The strange attractor of religious life, then, may be a partic-ular kind of gospel-based relationship with Jesus Christ, expressed in freely chosen lifelong celibacy, lived in community and mis-sion, that has generated a lifeform which is distinct and recog-nizable despite enormous variety. It has reinvented itself endlessly, but from a distance and over time we can note the repeated pat-terns, its fractal wholeness. The effect of the strange attractor is a global stability and self-identity through incessant change, a particular and recognizable order out of chaos. Christian Spirituality and Congregational Leadership If these metaphors .drawn from the new science--that is, the congregation as an open and autopoietic system invisibly structured by the corporate fields that manifest in the spirit of the congre-gation within the shaping influence of the strange attractor of celi-bate living of the Gospel in community and mission--are illuminating of our current experience of religious life in our par-ticular congregations, we can ask what light they throw on the problematic of leadership. Does such a postmodern model of reli-gious life based on metaphors drawn from the new science suggest anything helpful in understanding what leadership in such sys-tems might mean today? Obviously, the image of the leader as manager whose task is to minimize disequilibrium by control of all personnel, policy, and practice is obsolete. But probably the image of the leader as the lone visionary who boldly imagines and projects goals to gal-vanize the membership toward the future is also obsolete. This is Review for Religious not because care of the community and corporate vision are not as important today as they have always been, but because we increasingly realize that they are the shared responsibility of the entire congregation.23 What is characteristic of the context of leadership today is that the kinds of systems over which leaders preside are situations which are not only uncontrollable in fact, but chaotic in principle. Chaos is the system's "steady state." Whatever leaders do today, it cannot be imagined realistically as merely the direction of reliable resources toward clearly perceived objec-tives. It has to have something to do with the creative potential of chaos itself. Even while managing the modern social systems that our congregations, at one level, certainly are, leaders are chal-lenged to engage the deep dynamics of meaning in the increasingly postmodern systems that we are becoming. It seems to me that religious life today is at the bifurcation point between death and transformation, between entropy and self-renewal, and therefore that the responsibility of leaders in relation to the deep dynamics of meaning has to do with the prin-ciple of self-reference which Wheatley identifies as the most impor-tant single determinant of self-renewal in autopoietic structures.24 The science of autopoietic systems suggests that, if the congre-gation (or religious life as a lifeform) is true to itself, in touch with and living out of its own identity, it will continue to renew itself even in the face of the massive material and ecclesiastical challenges of this historical period. If it is the case that the iden-tity of religious life lies in the celibate living of the gospel in com-munity and mission within the spirit of the particular congregation, we are at the heart of the issue. And the issue is faith. In what follows I am relying heavily on a remarkable 1995 study by a British theologian, Denys Turner, of the apophatic ele-ment in the Christian mystical tradition.2s In this book Turner is dealing with what I suspect is the most challenging issue for all of us in religious life today, but perhaps especially for those charged with the care of the community as a whole, namely, the mean-ing, reality, and integrity of Christian faith today. Religious life is fundamentally a faith reality, and the faith in question is not simply a generalized conviction that there is more to reality than meets the eye. Christian faith is both an unthe-matized openness to the ineffable Divine Mystery that has no name and a thematized participation in a particular religious tra- t--!-9- January-Februa~3~ 1998 Scisneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality 20 dition which believes that this Holy Mystery is both revealed and encountered in Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead whose life is communicated to us in and through the gift of his Holy Spirit within the community called church. A major question today for Christians, including religious, and especially women, is whether these two aspects of faith, unthematized openness to Divine Mystery (which is not necessarily Christian) and thematic adher-ence to a particular religious tradition (namely, Christianity), are or need necessarily be related and, if they are related, how that can be personally experienced and authentically lived. Many postmodern Christians are caught in an experiential disjunction between their God-experience on the one hand and, on the other, their participation in the particular faith tradition, that is, the religion, within which they were initiated into that God-experience and which still claims to mediate it. In other words, there is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. This may be partially due to the sudden (at least historically speaking) reversal of our evaluation of the role of experience in spirituality that coincided with the upheavals in religion of the conciliar era. Let me trace this development in broad strokes. For several centuries Christians were educated to discount feeling in the practice of religion in favor of a kind of blind faith and naked exercise of will. It was not the person who believed but the intellect; not the person who loved but the will. The body with its emotions was that which had to be overcome and sub-jected in order for the soul to seek God. This approach to the spiritual life, which effectively reduced spirituality to religious practice, was seriously challenged by at least three developments in the middle of this century. First, for all kinds of reasons that were psychological and cul-tural as well as theological, the radical wholeness of the human person began to resurface, and many believers began to reclaim the importance, perhaps even priority, of feeling in religious prac-tice. Retreat directors learned to ask people how they felt, not what they thought. Retreatants learned to be attentive to subjec-tive states of consolation .and desolation. Discernment began to take into account the person's felt response to alternative possi-bilities. Rather than considering felt religious experience unreli-able or even suspect, people began to consider it the touchstone, even the essence, of genuine spirituality. Desiring such experi- Review for Religious ence, seeking it, trusting it, living from it was no longer an aber-ration but the norm. Second, the feminist movement took hold among Catholic women, and its analysis of patriarchy enabled women to name and claim their experience of oppression in the church and to trace ecclesiastical sexism to its theological roots in Scripture and tradition. Women's experience of the Catholic religious tradition became laced with negative feeling just as they were learning that feeling was not irrelevant, but a valid and important indicator of the real. Many concluded that, if Catholic religion feels deeply alienating, Catholic spirituality may be highly suspect. Third, Catholics, for the first time, came into meaningful appreciative contact with non-Christian religious traditions where they encountered spiritualities that counteracted some of the very aspects of Christianity that were becoming increasingly problematic. The nature-affirming rituals of native American spirituality countered the overcerebral otherworldliness of traditional Catholic wor-ship. The nondualistic, nondogmatic meditation practices of Eastern mystical traditions offered an attractive alternative to the rationalistic and mechanical prayer practices of ordinary Catholic piety. Thus, at the very time that experience was becoming the touchstone of truth in the sphere of religion, both negative and positive experiences in the realm of spirituality converged to undermine adherence to the Roman Catholic Christian tradition. This has led some, perhaps many, religious to seriously question whether Catholic Christianity offers an adequate, much less a preferable, access to Holy Mystery or compelling motivation for ministry. For many the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male; the focus on Jesus Christ seems narrow and exclusive; the resurrection seems mythological if not incred-ible and, in any case, irrelevant to a world in anguish; the insti-tutional church seems hopelessly medieval, sexist, and clerical; liturgy is alienating; morality is out of touch with reality; and church ministry is a continual battle with male hostility and power There is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. Januao~-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality dynamics. Spirituality centered in personal experience was increas-ingly engrossing while religion, especially the Catholic religion, was increasingly alienating. After a certain amount of experimentation, many religious have settled into a kind of personal, often highly eclectic, spiri-tuality within the context of a nominal Christianity whose central tenets and practices are of little practical import in their lives. Their God may no longer be the God of Jesus Christ, but a non-personal, benevolent cosmic energy holding reality together in some mysterious way. Jesus may have been consigned to history as one of many prophetic figures whose memory remains moti-vating although they themselves are long dead. The Bible may no longer be, for them, revelatory or normative Scripture, but one religious classic among others. Christian sacraments may be quarries of symbolic elements which can be combined with anal-ogous elements from other traditions in the formulation of mean-ingful rituals. Prayer may be any practice from listening to music, to Zen sitting or Tai Chi, to hiking or massage which is calming and focusing and helps one keep a balance in a crazy world. In religious communities the effect of these developments in spirituality is profoundly disintegrative. It can no longer be taken for granted that the members share the same faith, a serious sit-uation for a lifeform which is based not only on faith but specif-ically on Christian faith. Members for whom Christian faith remains normative may hesitate to speak in explicitly Christian terms lest they be branded reactionary or dismissed as out of. touch with contemporary reality, while post-Christian or selec-tively Christian members may hesitate to voice their spirituality lest they shock their hearers or find themselves branded as heretics. Christian liturgical celebration at congregational events is sometimes so divisive as to be impossible. Nevertheless, wherever they are on the Christian map, reli-gious women continue to be resolutely religious, seeking God in disciplined spiritual practice, making retreats, engaging seriously in spiritual direction, reading widely and deeply in theology and spirituality, attending workshops and renewal programs. Those religious who have survived the postconciliar exodus and are still committed to both community and ministry are not indifferent to the God quest that brought them to religious life in the first place. This is the point at which the disjuncture between spirituality which is a matter of passionate concern and religion which is a Review for Religious locus of struggle and alienation is apparent; and, in my opinion, this may be the bifurcation point at which the choice between death and transformation is going to be made. We cannot afford to ignore this situation or pretend it does not really matter as long as people are sincere and committed. What is in jeopardy is not control but self-reference, the con-gregation's response to its strange attrac-tor, that is, to religious life itself as a faith reality. It seems to me that what many reli-gious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to find God in a kind of personal mystical quest that bypasses what are experienced as the superficiali-ties and hypocrisies, and even the vio-lence, of the official structures of institutional Catholic Christianity. In par-ticular, many are trying to find in the Christian mystical tradi-tion itself guidance for developing an apophatic or nonthematic contemplative spirituality that is experientially satisfying and moti-vating, but that bypasses the concreteness of the Christian cat-aphatic tradition with its specifically religious beliefs, liturgy, and practice. In short, it is an attempt to develop a spirituality with-out religion. Denys Turner wrote his treatise on the Christian mystical tradition, The Darkness of God, as a challenge to this contemporary development, which he calls spiritual "experientialism" and which he sees as widespread among Christians in general. Turner regards this experientialism as a kind of modernist positivism in the arena of spirituality. In other words, felt religious experience has become the "hard data" of authentic spirituality analogous to the observ-able results of laboratory experiments in modern science or the quantifiable data of sociological surveys. Personal experience has become the nonnegotiable criterion of validity in the arena of faith.26 The practice of contemplation, yielding direct experience of either the delightful presence or the painful absence of Holy Mystery, has become for many the sufficient, if mir~imal, structure, content, and dynamics of their spirituality, augmented perhaps by a symbolic and ritual eclecticism that draws from various reli-gious and nonreligious traditions. This experience of Holy Mystery is believed to be "apophatic," that is, unencumbered by What many religious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to develop a spirituality without religion. January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality specific religious doctrines, images, symbols, liturgical traditions, and so on. Against this misguided turn to experience Turner maintains, with impressive support from the data of the tradition, that there is no such thing as "apophatic experience." This is a contradiction in terms. The experience of the absence of God is just as much an experience, that is, just as cataphatic, as is the experience of God's presence even though it might be less enjoyable. It is the quest for mystical experience itself, and especially reliance upon it as the touchstone of faith, which is the problem, Turner maintains. Furthermore, following Bernard McGinn, Turner points out that no one who is serious about the God quest, especially not the mys-tics (at least not until very recent times), attempts to "practice mys-ticism." People practice Christianity or Buddhism or Judaism.27 The mystical is a moment in the practice of these traditions, but there is no freestanding mysticism or pure apophatic practice. The development of this kind of experience-oriented, reli-giously decontextualized spirituality has been encouraged in recent years by a tendency in popular books on spirituality to talk of an apophatic and a cataphatic "way" as if there were two types of spirituality, one of which, the cataphatic, proceeds through the use of the theological symbols, images, rituals, and practices of a religious tradition and one of which, the apophatic, makes no use of these "externals" and reaches directly to the Divine Mystery that transcends all human institutions.28 Furthermore, there has been a tendency to suggest that these "ways" are a matter of per-sonal choice and so one might decide to bypass the cataphatic and plunge into the darkness of the apophatic way, where God would be met in pure spiritual nakedness. There has been much talk of foolproof methods by which to achieve mystical empti-ness and union, often without or before any serious ascetical train-ing, theological formation, or liturgical involvement. What Turner exposes is the basic fallacy of this whole "expe-rientialist" turn in spirituality. All spirituality, insofar as it can be practiced or pursued, is cataphatic, and all religious experience is by definition cataphatic. The apophatic is not a "way" or a "prac-tice," much less a kind of "experience." It is a moment of negativity, of nonexperience, at the heart of genuine, ordinary religious faith and practice. This moment is, by definition, not something one can experience at all. The apophatic or mystical is precisely the neg-ativity, the total darkness which cannot itself be seen or felt. It is Review for Religious the absence of experience, the "hole" at the heart of religious expe-rience, the place of the Holy Mystery Which is utterly beyond our experiencing, attainment, knowing, or naming. Mysticism is not negative (or positive) religious experience, says Turner, but the negativity of all religious experience.2Vlf I can experience it at all, it is not God in Godself that I am experiencing. If Turner is right, this attempt to bypass religious practice of the Christian tradition in search of some direct experience of the Holy Mystery is wrongheaded and futile, and it can end only in self-delusion of the kind pilloried by the author of The Cloud of Unknowing.3°Insofar as the apophatic moment occurs, it is abso-lutely nonexperienceable and hidden. And it occurs only within the cataphatic context of resolutely faithful Christian practice, which may at times overflow in the exaltation of spiritual peak experiences or generate the psychologically devastating suffering of the "dark night" described by John of the Cross. But, as all the mystics have maintained, such graces of light or darkness are neither the content nor the criterion of genuine spirituality. As Turner says, the deformations of the "experientialist" derive . . . from the error of understanding that which is a "moment" of reserve, of denial and unknowing within worship, prayer and sacrament as if it were a rival practice which displaces that Christian ordinariness. "Experientialism" in its most extreme forms is therefore the displacement of a sense of the negativity of all religious experience with the pursuit of some goal of achieving negative experiences.3~ In other words, a purely mystical spirituality is not a viable alternative to full participation in the religious tradition. The mystical, insofar as it is spiritually significant and transformative (as opposed to momentary experiences of oceanic bliss which may be caused by any number of stimuli from drugs to trance) is available only within some ongoing, ordinary, everyday cataphatic practice. The alternative to being imprisoned within the rigidities of an overmaterialized tradition is not the flight into a disembodied, decontextualized, and individualistic pseudomysticism. The deeply interior life of the serious postmodern Christian requires the shaping influence of a tradition worked out over centuries by saints and scholars, mystics and martyrs, even as the tradition itself requires the critical challenge of its postmodern adherents, whose new insights into reality must refine the tradition of its historical dross. 25 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadersbip and Spirituality Let us return now to the framework of meaning that has sup-plied us with the important principle of self-reference. If the focus of self-reference of religious congregations and their members is the gospel-based celibate living of the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ in community and mission within the spirit of the partic-ular congregation, and if the self-renewal and continued flour-ishing of religious life and the particular congregation depend on this self-reference, then nothing is more important than the authenticity of the spirituality of religious. Obviously, people can form and live community and altruis-tically serve others without being either Christian or Catholic. And a religious congregation can certainly transform itself into such a community of life and service, leaving behind its specifically Catholic identity and affirming whatever religious affiliation, or lack thereof, its individual members espouse. That is, it can cease to be a religious congregation and continue as an intentional com-munity with or without religious roots?2 My concern is with con-gregations which have not, or not yet, made that choice, but are struggling to maintain their Catholic Christian identity in a highly dysfunctional ecclesiastical context. For such communities the quiet sidelining of Christian identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation. And perhaps the most impor-tant task of leadership in such congregations is helping the congregation to negotiate the moment of bifurcation between congregational death through the abandonment of that identity and congregational transformation through the critical reappro-priation of its Christian identity. There can be no question, in a postmodern context, of deal-ing with this issue by fiat. The present state of spirituality in many religious congregations is highly chaotic, and attempting to abol-ish chaos by control is, as we have seen, the kiss of death. Hope lies not in the exercise of coercive power, but in the realization that the current disequilibrium is potentially far more creative than the kind of static uniformity that prevailed in the spiritual-ity of most preconciliar communities. But how do leaders facilitate the emergence of new spiritual order from religious chaos? The analogies from the new science suggest several possible leads. First, a climate has to be created in which divergent theological views and spiritual practices can rise to visibility and articulation and be seriously and respectfully Review for Religious engaged. The unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that could cause dissension and not to use any ritual with which someone might be uncomfortable--and to substitute therapeutic methods and organizational techniques for theological engage-ment with controversies in the area of faith--is analogous to main-taining tight managerial control in a dysfunctional organization. The upheaval in spirituality at the individual and local level needs to be articulated, recognized, and owned. Within it lies the poten-tial, not for a restoration of preconciliar uniformity of doctrine and practice, but for a self-renewing reclaiming of the tradition in very new, perhaps even startlingly new, forms. Any Christian!ty that can be relevant and life-giving in a postmodern context is simply not going to look like, or be like, the Catholicism of the Middle Ages or even of the 1950s. Second, the basic framework of meaning needs to be reartic-ulated, but in ways that take seriously the problems which have led to its practical collapse. This basic framework is the gospel in all its depth and breadth, and that means the theological and litur-gical, moral and socially transformative riches of the Christian tradition in dialogue with the postmodern culture emerging in our time. The Christian tradition that has become alienating for so many is not the gospel itself, but the moribund formulations of post-Tridentine Vatican institutionalism. The extraordinary response of so many, especially women religious, to the work of theologians like Elizabeth Johnson and Catherine LaCugna, bib-lical scholars like Carolyn Osiek and Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza, liturgists like Mary Catherine Hilkert, ecumenists like Rosemary Radford Ruether, moral theologians like Lisa Sowle Cahill, and scholars of spirituality like Constance FitzGerald and Joann Wolski Conn--along with the rediscovery of the Christian mys-tics themselves--suggests that the tradition has the potential to be reappropriated and renewed in feminist, ecological, and pluralis-tic patterns if the meeting between the postmodern religious and contemporary theology can be facilitated. A system converts local chaos to global order by the infusion of new information which can be appropriated within a coherent frame of reference. Access to theological resources and also deep engagement with the new science, feminist thought and practice, and ecological and social theory by all the members of a congregation would seem to be an absolute requirement for the development of an authentic post-modern Catholic Christian spirituality that would be adequate Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirit~tality for religious life in the 21st century. If religious develop such a spirituality, we can expect resistance from the official exercisers of institutional control. But, if religious fail to develop such a spir-ituality, we can expect religious congregations to disintegrate from within as their spirituality unravels and becomes a tangle of idiosyncratic and individualistic syncretisms. Third, the interaction between the whole and the parts has to be facilitated so that what is emerging in the spirituality of the members appears in a corporate spirituality that breaks the ver-bal and ritual silence at the global level and also transforms the global frame of reference itself so that it is not a religious strait-jacket but a flexible focus of self-reference. In preconciliar days. most communities had a repertoire of symbols, myths, celebra-tions, and ceremonies which integrated the spirituality of the individual members with the spirituality of the congregation. How can we experience this local-to-global articulation today? The order at the global level, which is not dogmatic uniformity but deep unity in shared faith and spirituality, can be authentic only if it emerges from the lived variety and ferment at the local level, among the individuals and groups that make up the community. In recent years some congregations have begun processes of getting religiously sensitive issues out on the table and seeking ways to bring theological resources into dialogue with personal religious experience in the context of open sharing of faith. This is very risky business. But in many cases it has resulted in unusual experiences of renewal of the spirit of the community. Perhaps, having negotiated so many of the more "external" issues of lifestyle and even ministry, many religious are eager, even if fearful, to engage the deeper issues of faith, religious identity, and spiritu-ality. Congregational leadership may be challenged today to take the initiative in helping the congregation address the fundamen-tal issue of Catholic faith and spirituality, that is, the issue of identity and self-reference. Conclusion Let me briefly summarize and conclude. What leadership means and how it is exercised depends essentially on how one understands the social system one is leading. I have tried to sug-gest that the quasi-mechanical modern model of the religious congregation is giving way to an organic postmodern model of Review for Religious community. I have explored a few features of this new model, namely, the conception of the community itself as an autopoietic or self-renewing organic structure; the category of fields as a way of un.derstanding the unifying forces of charism, vocation, and the spirit of the congregation; and the strange attractor as a way of understanding the quintessential role of the gospel lived in consecrated celibacy in community and mission as the principle of self-reference of religious life. I then tried to suggest that the role of leadership today may be neither primarily social maintenance nor ministerial goal set-ting, but the facilitation of the congregation's self-renewing pro-cess through attention to its core identity, its framework of meaning. This framework of meaning is not a uniform religiosity nor a particular type of ministry. It is Christian paschal spiritual-ity, rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, lived celibately in com-munity and mission, a spirituality which cannot bypass the Christian theological, liturgical, moral, and socially transforma-tive tradition within the believing community we call church. But in a postmodern context such spirituality cannot be leg-islated or enforced. Nor are leaders, in all probability, any less caught up in doubt, alienation, and theological-religious confusion than the other members of their congregations. What we ask of our leaders today is not that they supply us with the correct answers, or even that they pi6neer the road to the future, but that they mediate the creative interchange between local and global levels, helping us to own the real questions and search honestly, together, for appropriate responses, and thus facilitate the life-giving interaction between the religious congregation and the real world in which we live and minister. When Peter, that first leader of the Christian community, asked Jesus for a clear fix on church order and ministry by inquiring what role his apparent rival, the Beloved Disciple, was to have, Jesus replied, "That's not your problem. What you need to do is follow me," that is, become a beloved disciple and thereby become capable of the ministry to which you are called. Perhaps for all of us, leaders and followers, it is both that simple and that difficult. Notes ~ On this issue of the i~nportance of worldview and the character of the emerging worldview with which I am concerned in this paper, see the very provocative thesis of Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self." Human Nature and Consciousv~ess Defined by the Januao,-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990), esp. pp. 231-237. 2 For a comprehensible introduction to the notion of postmodernity in the context of Christian faith, see James B. Miller, "The Emerging Postmodern World," in Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World, ed. Frederic B. Burnham (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989), pp. 1-19, or Douglas C. Bowman, Beyond the Modern Mind: The Spiritual and Ethical Challenge of the Environmental Crisis (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1990). The SUNY Series in Constructive Postmodern Thought, edited by David Ray Griffin, and published in Albany, New York by the State University of New York Press, includes several volumes of essays repre-senting most of the preeminent writers attempting to relate Christianity and its concerns to the postmodern worldview. For a powerful presenta-tion of secular postmodernity, see Albert Borgmann, Crossing the Postmodern Divide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992). 3 My primary resources in trying to understand this new approach to reality have been the following: Heinz Pagels, The Coswtic Code: Quantum Physics as the Language of Nature (New York: Bantam Books, 1983); David S. Toolan, "Praying in a Post-Einsteinian Universe," Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 437-470; Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organization from an Orderly Universe (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1992); Margaret J. Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Rogers,/t Simpler Way (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1996); Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990). 4 Zohar, The Quantum Self, p. 234, speaks of the new worldview chal-lenging the modernist dualisms which split subject and object (mind and body), individual from relationships, and culture from nature. This is a slightly different focus on what I am talking about in more humanis-tic/ religious terms. 5 Specifically, Wheadey relies on the thought about living systems of Erich Jantsch, The Self-Organizing Universe (Oxford: Pergamon, 1980); the treatment of chemical reality of Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Order out of Chaos (New York: Bantam, 1984); the work of quantum physi-cists on strange attractors as explained by James Gleick in Chaos: Making a New Science (New York: Viking, 1987). 6 Cited in Wheatley, Leadership, p. 18. 7 Much of the following description of U.S. religious life from the 1800s until Vatican II is well illustrated in the volume, coauthored by a team of IHM sisters, Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, ed. Margaret Susan Thompson (Syracuse: University Press, 1997). 8 It is interesting that sociological theory of organizations has .applied these Newtonian principles to social systems, leading theorists like Helen Rose E Ebaugh, in Women in the Vanishing Cloister: Organizational Decline in Catholic Religious Orders in the United States (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1993), to confidently predict the immi- Review for Religious nent demise of religious life, not because the spirituality of religious has died, but because the organizations seem to have lost their niche in the social, economic, and occupational machinery. If I understand Wheatley's thesis, she is convinced that the mechanistic understanding of organiza-tions that underlies much organizational and management theory is inap-propriate to the kind of entity such organizations are. I think Wheatley's thesis is applicable to religious life in general and religious congrega-tions in particular. 9Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 18-19. 10 Wheattey, Leadership, pp. 95-96, treats this feature. ~' When I hear religious wearily predicting the demise of their con-gregations as simply inevitable since decline in one or more areas seems to have set in and, in the long run, decline cannot be arrested or reversed, I am struck by the mechanistic character of their image of religious con-gregations. ,2 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 93. 13 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 90, italics mine. 14 Before reading Wheatley, who uses this very expression, "death or transformation," in relation to living organisms, I was looking at this same phenomenon in religious life in terms of the mystical tradition, the "bifurcation point" represented by the "dark night." See Sandra M. Schneiders, "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. is Wheatley, Leadership, p. 94. 16 See Patricia Wittberg, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1996), pp. 19-31, for her very enlighten-ing treatment of the sociological category of the "religious virtuoso" as a descriptive of religious. Peter Brown, in The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), p. 58, refers to the lst- and 2nd-century virgins, the original religious, as "virtuoso practitioners of continence." 17 In the earliest period of church life, the choice of lifelong virgin-ity created an alternative to the sociological givens of society in the 1st century of the Christian era. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the desert ascetics moved geographically out of the overacculturated church of late antiquity. In the Middle Ages cenobitic monasticism was an institutional alternative to life in the cities. The "leaving the world" motif continued in the closed lifestyles of apostolic religious congregations right up to Vatican II. 18 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 48. 19 See esp. Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 52-54. 201 think this dynamic metaphor fnight have some potential for dis-cussions of the issues of belonging and membership. For example, if every individual is a distinct constellation of overlapping and intersecting fields (family, personal friends, professional associations, ministerial involve-ments, and so forth) which structure her personal identity and which 3I Janua~y-Febt'uaty 1998 . 32 Scbneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality intersect with the fields of other members and the corporate constellation of fields of the congregation, we have to expect that ways of belonging and participating in community life are going to be very diverse and that this need not lead to disintegration. Likewise, there may be significant but not determining intersection between the field of some person and the congregational field,, leading to a considerable sense of"belonging" on the part of this person who, nev-ertheless, does not feel called to become a member in the full sense of the word. 2, Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 20-21. 22 The amount of chaos within religious life and the sometimes over-whelmingly dysfunctional character of the ecclesiastical settings in which the life survived and even thrived over the centuries is strikingly chron-icled by Jo Ann Kay McNamara in Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). 23 1 do not mean to suggest that leadership does not play a special role in maintenance and mission. In fact, I suspect leadership in these arenas is even more important today than it was in the recent past when eccle-siastical control dictated virtually all major decisions about mission and stable financial procedures and reliable resources assured maintenance. I want to suggest, however, that these functions, although facilitated by leadership, are largely handled by specialists or by congregational struc-tures that do not depend exclusively on leaders. 24 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 146: "More than any other science prin-ciple I've encountered, self-reference strikes me as the most important. ¯ . . As an operating principle, it decisively separates living organisms from machines." 2s Denys Turner, The Darkness of God: Negativity in Christian MystMsm (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). 26 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 262. Turner says (p. 259): "Experientialism is. the 'positivism' of Christian spirituality. It abhors the experiential vacuum of the apophatic, rushing to fill it with the plenum of the psychologistic." 27 Turner, Darkness of God, pp. 260-261; he cites Bernard McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of VVestern Christian MystMsm, Vol. 1 (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. xvi. Turner does not actually agree with McGinn about the role of experience in mysticism, but he does agree with him that, until the present century, tnysticism was not isolated from religious traditions but an element within the,n. 2s Mthough there is much of value in Diarmuid O'Murchu's latest book, Quantum Theology (New York: Crossroad, 1997), I have serious hesitations about his facile dismissal of .religion as a dispensable human invention (see esp. pp. 7-12). He is right to point out the distinction between spirituality, religion, and theology, but I doubt that the direct leap from spirituality to theology is possible because, while the categories of theology can be enriched by science, I doubt that they can be supplied Review for Religious without recourse to sacred texts and liturgical ritual. It is indeed part of the function of theology to purify religion of its excesses; but it is also part of the function of religious tradition to criticize theology. 29 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3o See the caustic description in chaps. 52-53 of The Cloud of Unknowing (The Classics of \Vestern Spirituality), ed. James Walsh (New York/Ramsey/Toronto: Paulist Press, 1981), pp. 220-223. 3t Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3: In speaking of religious congregations, I am using the term theo-logically and not canonically. I am talking about the faith reality that constitutes religious life, not juridical requirements ofany particular period in history. Tropical Night Watch (Cap Haitien, Haiti) The current is cut, the light fails, generators die, sleep prevails. Wakened by silence, I stagger onto the gallery, stumble over stars, so many stars the sky overflows, the Milky Way spilt and star running all down the dome. Does someone, I wonder, watch with me, or do I alone gorge on the glory? Two a.m. an ungodly hour?-- with this luxury of light? this starry sight? I gape, I gape, at this godly night. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Januasy-February 1998 DONNA J. MARKHAM Leadership for the Common Good Only a few achieve the colossal task of holding together, without being torn asunder, the clarity of their vision along-side an ability to take their place in a materialistic world. They are the modern heroes . --Irene Claremont de Castillejo Knowing VVoman: A Feminine Psychology AnY person who is called upon to lead today is also called to the heroic act of unifying and healing in the midst of a world that is increasingly fragmented by nationalism and regional separatism. Nor are religious leaders unaffected: denom-inational sectarianism and ideological divisions threaten to take a mortal toll on the community of believers. At the same time, we live in an exciting era, alive in the midst of an enormous shifting in the collective experience of our planet. Insights from world religions, the new sciences, and feminist consciousness are con-tinually shaping our responses to the suffering oppressed. Religious leaders want to unify their members in order to meet the various challenges effectively, but the personal and communal risks are great. Women religious leaders find themselves engaging in heroic action as they contend with complex and differing perspectives on Christology and spirituality and on what constitutes the core Donna J. Markham OP is CEO for Southdown, a center for Christian healing that serves clergy and religious. Her article, published in Origins 27 (I 3 November 1997), is a slightly edited version of her address to the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, held in Rochester, New York, in August 1997. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Relig4ous identity of religious life in this emerging global reality. Those who are entrusted for a time with the exciting task of fostering greater union and community are also expected to keep in front of our eyes the gospel-illuminated vision to which we have all committed ourselves. Irene Claremont de Castillejo rightly asserts that those who strive to accomplish such things are, indeed, mod-ern heroes. We actually have modern-day heroes--who have called us to common ground, who have invited us to envision a new way of being dwellers on earth, who have risked opening dif-ficult conversations and bringing forth serious critiques as new insights and truths are searched out. Within our midst are, I believe, unobtrusive modern heroines. The thoughts I share come from one who is clearly not a philosopher or a theologian, but rather a student of human behav-ior who has herself been stretched and challenged by a loving God. I share these thoughts as one who has experienced a call to profound conversion in the midst of the awesome responsibility of being entrusted with leading. I share these thoughts as one who, lost in deserts of confusion, has called out in fear; one who, with her sisters, has called upon a God of mystery, wisdom, and hope to show some clarity or meaning in daunting, sometimes terrifying, situations pregnant with disharmony and division. I hope to propose some specific skills for leaders to use in their efforts regarding the good we hold in common. Before doing that, however, I note two perspectives on the meaning of the com-mon good and offer a summation of our own experience of the past ten years. Perspectives on the Common Good There are two principal perspectives about how to achieve the good of society. The prevalent one, perhaps, is that the aggre-gate of individuals all pursuing their own self-interest constitutes the most good for the greatest number. This individualistic and utilitarian view--from John Locke, Adam Smith, and John Stuart Mill--emphasizes the common good as a composite of individual goods. It wants the civil authority to keep out of people's affairs except to ensure that no one tramples on another's rights. The second perspective, in the Thomistic tradition, emphasizes the common good as a social good that all must.participate in if the good of the whole is to be achieved (Hollenbach, 1989, pp. 85ff). January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Maritain elucidated this by speaking of a "personalistic commu-nitarianism" in which individuals achieve their own good more fully and readily when, in relationship with others, they work to enhance the common good. History has demonstrated, especially over the past two cen-turies, that two extremes of governance must be avoided: a lais-sez- faire individualistic philosophy that heralds each person in There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding personal spirituality and one's relationship with God. society as completely autonomous and indepen-dent, and a socialistic collectivism in which the individual sacrifices everything for the society, even to the loss of self-actualization. Within these polarities there exists a tension for each of us: to want each individual member in our community to be fulfilled and to flourish and to want our religious institutes to unleash their communal passion and energy in service of the mission of Jesus. After a long history of reflecting a more col-lectivist model, with the needs of individuals heavily subordinated to the needs of the larger community, religious life has, I think, swerved toward the Lockean-Smithian libertarian notion of the common good. Leadership itself has, at times, colluded in this--unconsciously, I think. We saw this reflected in some of our early documents after the call to renewal: the individual member was noted as our primary asset and first concern. While this concern was certainly not intended to subordinate the communal mission, experience has shown that this interrelationship has remained a serious issue for us, and we find ourselves seeking ways to lead well in the midst of escalating diversity of thought and belief. Experiences, Insights, and Questions What I say about the experience of leaders over this past decade is by no means exhaustive; I simply offer my own obser-vations: ¯ Women religious have a far stronger sense of internalized personal identity and individual maturity than previously. We also seek clarity concerning what constitutes corporate, com-munal identity .and what the requisites for membership are. Review for Religious ¯ We have witnessed a growing diversification of ministries, in which members are far more able to use their individual cre-ativity and talents in service of the gospel. ¯ We have deepened our sense of inner authority and self-direct-edness, yet we struggle with how this relates to any congre-gational ministerial focus and communal accountability. ¯ There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding per-sonal spirituality and one's relationship with God. ¯ There is a clear movement away from structures and systems that are oppressive and demeaning to women, and a deliber-ate movement toward systems that address the needs of the poor, the oppressed, and the abandoned. ¯ We have deepened our understanding of feminism in relation to our church and our world. ¯ We see an escalation of profound questioning, with conse-quences for our communal life as members of our institutes, not to mention our life as dwellers on this planet. ¯ As leaders we continue to experience the pervasive tension between our pastoral responsibility with its consequent care-giving obligations, and the possibilities of vision-driven, spirit-linking, heart-stirring leadership. ¯ We continue to examine models of leadership, modes of par-ticipation and decision making, and forms of governance that are faithful to our commitment as gospel-driven women. ¯ We live within the growing complexity of all the institutions and systems in which we minister. ¯ And we have witnessed the common good being held hostage, at times, by malaise and a depletion of communal passion. We have seen the common good compromised by leaders who have become overly preoccupied with the torment of a trou-bled individual and have diverted their attention from the broader work of leadership, with its potential to accomplish major transformations. We have witnessed the common good being co-opted by leaders who have become frightened and paralyzed in the face of an articulate few whose sociocultural precommitments distract them and others from gospel faith, the living water of religious life. At times we have also seen leaders--perhaps in misdirected efforts to affirm individu-als- fail to critique emergent societal, religious, and cultural movements as these impact on the common good of the con-gregation. 'L37 . 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good 3-8A So what is it that we have learned from what we have experi-enced? We have intensified our conviction that pluralism and diversity must work in tandem with a binding sense of identity and relationality. We know that interdependence is imperative for our survival as a planet, as nations, as a church, and as religious institutes. It is clear that all living systems are characterized by net-works of relationships. We are aware, more than ever, that all things are somehow connected and have an impact on one another for good or bad. Consequently, we know that various necessary and desirable boundaries need to be permeable enough for bond-ing with other communities and the global community to be pos-sible. We have learned, too, that neither hieratic leadership models nor totally consensual models are effective in this time of rampant change, greater complexity, and anxiety-provoking ambiguity, and we search for new ways to express leadership and exercise author-ity. We have learned that neither the subordination of individu-als to the needs of the community nor the subordination of the common good to the needs of individual members will make for a viable future. We have learned that new expressions of com-munity are being called for, whereby persons exercise true inter-dependence, participation, and responsibility about matters pertaining to the well-being of all those involved. We know that, if we are to do this, we need to develop skill in managing conflict and diversity. We have embraced even more deeply our need for ongoing contemplative reflection and conversation about mat-ters of the heart and soul. And we have learned with some trepi-dation that, insofar as profound doubt about the meaning and validity of our founding myths pervades our communities, we flirt with division and dissolution. Given all this, we are faced with serious questions. At what point does diversity within our institutes lead to entropy and orga-nizational dissolution? How will we work with our differences so that the result is synergy rather than division? How can we, with our members, become more intently engaged in the promotion of a personal communitarianism which recognizes that each per-son's dignity is most fully achieved in communion with others? What can we do as committed women of the gospel to help heal the gender and ideological rifts within our church, the racial and economic rifts in our country? What deliberate and concerted actions should we be taking as communities of faith to address Review for Religious materialistic individualism and the exploitation and mutilation of creation? How will we inspire others to that end? What signs will identify the better emergent models of leadership? In an effort to shed some light on these questions, I will focus on three areas of skill development: conflict management, guard-ing against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. By no means the only skills needed, these three call for some special attention today. Skills by themselves are, of course, not enough; but a leadership team's understanding of the princi-ples behind them can help keep the congregation moving for-ward while holding open the possibility of true synergy emerging. By synergy I mean the energy-laden, unexpected accord--or com-munion- within a group that gives it momentum toward the good which it esteems in common. Comfortable and Adept in Handling Conflict Perhaps more than any other skill, religious leaders today need the ability to manage conflict well. This prevents group-think from setting in and supports communal efficacious action. While we all know that some conflict is normal in any human relationship and an important part of the interaction in any vital group, much of what I say about managing conflict will seem counterintuitive. It flies in the face of our upbringing and our instinctive responses to confrontation. Most of us probably employ two basic responses to conflictual situations. Either we shy away from them, taking no action or procrastinating in the hope that the problem will go away, or we engage in symmetrical inter-change, being defensive or aggressive toward one another, prob-ably debating to a standoff. With the first strategy we quickly learn that the denial of the possibility of conflict is an easy way of becoming involved in one. With the second strategy we find our-selves caught in dualistic thinking that categorizes others as either with us or against us; we draw the proverbial line in the sand, and some become self-righteous winners and others demoralized losers. To use a third strategy, that is, to act counterintuitively, we anticipate and deliberately move toward that which is feared in efforts to establish connection. VCe meet conflict proactively or, in the wonderful words of William Shakespeare, we "meet the first beginnings; look to the budding mischief/before it has time to [-~9-- January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to listen and learn from one another. ripen to ,naturity." We anticipate conflict and confrontation and approach the other with the clear, well-articulated intent to dia-logue. In so doing we open the possibility of engaging in a kind of ecological relationship building, a way of working through erroneous assumptions about and resistance to one another. We do not engage in debate, but rather in dialogue that has been pre-pared for with rigorous study, prayer, and reflection. Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to lis-ten and learn from one another. Debate encour-ages dogmatic rigidity and judgment; dialogue encourages the search for insight and truth. If all parties have not prepared for the conversation by disciplined and intensive study, prayer, and reflec-tion, we are not ready to dialogue. Dialogue means that, while we are open to lis-tening and learning, we. also know that there are certain issues about which a group cannot com-promise. These include identity, internal consis-tency, and core values. A group ceases to exist as itself when these constitutive elements are com-promised. For example, leaders of religious congregations have a fundamental fiduciary obligation to promote the unity of the con-gregation. They canr~ot compromise those founding values and principles which have endured over ti,ne and which constitute the community's identity, charism, and mythic history. On the other hand, conversation and dialogue around the contentporary meaning of communal identity--no matter how divergent our understand-ings may bemis of critical importance and should not be shied away from in spurious hopes that differences will disappear. Still, to entertain that the fundamental identity of the group is open for negotiation is to promote disunity, disintegration, and ultimate demise. Membership in the group has become meaningless. A few examples: One can be a part of a group called "psy-chologists" and struggle with reformulations and new constructs relative to the study of personality and behavior. But to assert that the study of personality and behavior is no longer relevant to the discipline of psychology is to move oneself outside the iden-tity of being a psychologist. Similarly, Dominicans can struggle with how to enflesh the mandate of the order to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ in today's world, or how they will name and address contemporary heresies, but they cannot say that they will Review for Religious replace the gospel of Jesus Christ as a foundation for that preach-ing mission with some other construct. To do so would be to move outside the identity of being Dominican. Likewise, when an indi-vidual experiences a loss of identity, that person moves into a state of confusion and terror. In the most dramatic sense of this phe-nomenon, the psychotic person has little or no awareness of who she is, what she is to be doing, or what meaning there is to her very existence. This is why the therapist, as an agent of responsive and responsible authority, must take swift action to protect her from further disintegration and potential self-destruction. Good leaders take clear and directed action to protect the solidarity of the group, its commitment to unity in the face of challenges to its founding purpose, its identity and mission. They do so by calling the group to reflection, prayer, and respectful dialogue. They, with the group, walk toward what is feared and claim their truth in faith and in commitment to the greater good. Leaders in this era of connection (Lipman-Blumen, pp. 8-21) live in the midst of ongoing diversity. Accordingly, they also live in the midst of the conflicts which arise from this diversity of insight and thought. Successful handling of these conflicts demands certain assumptions: that all are committed to learn from one another and to search for truth together; that they agree to carry out the conversation to its conclusion; that they respect one another; and that no party will resort to oppressive or vindictive strategies during or after the conversation. Leaders who succeed possess an internal disposition of grace, flexibility, balance, empa-thy, courage, creativity, and a heavy dose of curiosity about the dif-ferent and unusual. But even these qualities are insufficient if leaders are frightened or unclear about or uncommitted to what constitutes the identity of the group which they have been called to serve. A time may come when evasion or avoidance--or a direct naming of the futility of carrying a discussion any further--may actually be a worthwhile move. The problem has often been that we have resorted to these moves before working proactively with the conflictual situation. Guarding against Groupthink One way, of course, of avoiding conflict within a close work group is for all to adopt patterns of thinking that are so "agree- Janttal.3,-FebtvtaD, 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good able" that disagreement becomes unthinkable: it would be "dis-loyalty." But "agreement," then, is an ambiguous thing. The greater the ambiguity, the more likely it is that a leadership group has fallen into the groupthink that some analysts describe. This dangerous dynamic arises when, in the face of adversity or perceived danger, a cohesive "ingroup" (here, the leadership team) insulates itself from conflict with the "outgroup" (here, the other members). It does this by concurrence seeking and unques-tioning agreeableness among the ingroup members. Groupthink interferes with leadership's ability to act on behalf of the com-mon good because it has closed off alternative courses of action. It falls into a tight-knit, closed system in which team members avoid deviating from consensus. The ingroup thus shares an illu-sion of unanimity concerning most of its judgments and posi-tions. In the worst scenario, certain members of the ingroup unwittingly assume the role of "mindguards" who protect the leader and other ingroup members from adverse information that might break their sense of well-being about their past decisions. Groupthink can result from a largely unconscious effort on the part of a leadership group to fortify itself, in ambiguous and con-flictual times, against perceived threats from the outgroup. It is characterized by the ingroup's feeling a certain invulnerability and having exaggerated optimism about the future. Negative feed-back has been dismissed by rationalizing, by stereotyping the behavior of members who disagree as invalid, irrelevant, erro-neous, disloyal, or uninformed. The search for truth has thus been compromised not only in the leadership group but also throughout the community, because sincere engagement between the ingroup and the outgroup has been aborted. W-hen diversity of thought has been stifled within a leadership group, stagnation, boredom, and a certain brittleness, set in. This situation comes from a misunderstanding of consensus, but it often masquerades as a nonhieratic, more feminist model of managing disagreement and arriving at decisions. Groupthink is serious and should not be underestimated. Group analysis has shown that the membership of any large group reflects the deficiencies of its leaders. V~rhen diversity of opinion, conflict, and serious dialogue find little or no room for expression in the leadership group, the membership will unconsciously mir-ror the leadership or react strongly to it, in either case jeopar-dizing the common good. Review for Religious In order to counter the unconscious pull toward groupthink, leadership teams may wish to set up safeguards. They could, for example, devise ways of getting critical evaluations of decisions and actions (including evaluations from outside the leadership team); they could, before coming to agreement, probe for alternatives; they could seek and happily come up with more than one way of addressing a given issue; they could broaden the decision-making base by consulting persons from different disciplines and areas of expertise; they could, after a period of time apart, hold a sec-ond- chance session to readdress the issue; they could simply ask whether there is "too much unanimity." Promoting Efficacious Communal Action Leadership teams that manage conflict well and avoid group-think instill in their communities the belief that it is indeed pos-sible for something important and significant to come from concerted communal action directed toward the greater good (Bandura, 1997). On the other hand, if a community has little sense that it is making a difference as a group, it will experience organizational anxiety, corporate depression, and a growing fear of the future and it will not attract new members. Leaders who work well with conflict and promote the unity of the group through a clear commitment to pursuing the truth together make a difference in this world of ours. Their fearless-ness and passion in repeatedly calling the group to fidelity to its mission have an impact. If all else is equal, a group that is more unified and clear about its identity and mission will endure beyond one that is fragmented. In other words, integration and unifica-tion contribute to life; disintegration and fragmentation, to demise. We know well that our desire to flourish is not an end in itself. Rather, we choose life as members of religious institutes because we are committed to radical discipleship. We commit ourselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a differ-ence-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the aban-doned in our world. We believe we can do this better because we are united as sisters, and so we invite others to walk with us. We do this not simply to bolster our sense of well-being, but because we believe desperately in the mission of Jesus to promote justice and right relationships among people, between people and their Januaty-Februa~y 1998 Markham ¯ Leadersh~ for the Common Good God, and among all the various peoples that dwell upon this planet. We know that this work is not finished. We invite others to join us in this connective mission of pursuing what is true, what is just, what is merciful, and what ultimately is the One who unites us all. Most of our congregations have identified issues which they see as critical to the common good of our society today. In meet-ing with communities across North America, I have noted a remarkable consensus on the critical issues calling for our response as women religious. Through chapter acts, vision statements, and communal goals, concerns about the environment, racism, the poor and oppressed, spirituality, and women's needs and oppor-tunities continue to surface. These concerns, besides inviting our deep compassion, recall us to our commitment to live the gospel as wholeheartedly as we can. I watched in awe as the NASA scientists shared the excite-ment of accomplishing something awesome. This team of women and men was jubilant that their Martian dreams, their hard work, their collaboration gave us earthlings a chance to see another world. They were passionate, and millions of us on the Internet shared their passion as we took in the unfolding events. Why, then--though our dreams and efforts on behalf of the oppressed and abandoned bring successes and are no less altruistic than those of NASA scientists--do we seem not to have such excitement and passion about our corporate accomplishments, either just among ourselves or in the eyes of others? I found myself pon-dering this question with a tinge of sadness as I watched the ongo-ing televised press briefings. We want to make a difference in our mission. We want to see something come of all our hard work. We want to know that we are participating in something that makes a tangible difference in our world. We long for excitement and passion regarding our work. When a group has a sense of nothing much coming from a colossal effort, it gets discouraged. Negative corporate conse-quences follow: heightened individualism, attrition of member-ship, loss of momentum, corporate sluggishness. While many of us individually experience satisfaction in know-ing that we are addressing those compelling needs identified through our chapter processes, I wonder if we are depriving our-selves of the possibility of magnanimous corporate accomplish-ment. I wonder if the aggregate of our individual good works has Review for Religious buried in oblivion our ability to do something passionately, and concretely, together. What might it mean for us if we were to spec-ify concretely what we will do together as a congregation--or per-haps all of our congregations in concert--by way of making a passionate and grand contribution to this Mother Earth of ours, especially the neediest causes on it? I realize that, as soon as we entertain thoughts of concerted and clearly defined com-munal endeavors, we may conjure up our worst memories of the past. The urgency of the needs of these times, however, demands that we let go of that history and allow the fire of a revived corporate passion to brighten our eyes and our vision as we look toward the future of the life and labor for which God called us together, and keeps calling us. We have dedication and commitment and a vision and a mission that are at least as broad and deep as the NASA team has. We are attuned to needs that make the Martian endeavor look small and childlike. Oppression and exploita-tion are no strangers to us. The exploitation of our planet, of the abandoned, of women and children, is daily being resisted by wonderful women religious all over this continent and beyond. But now is a time for us to come together, in ways we have never imagined, to make an even greater difference for the good of our world's people. We join with John Paul II in seeing ecological concern as a driving force in the communal mission to which we are called: The earth is ultimately a common heritage, the fruits of which are for the benefit of all . It is manifestly unjust that a privileged few should continue to accumulate excess goods, squandering available resources, while masses of people are living in conditions of misery at the very lowest level of sub-sistence. Today the dramatic threat of ecological breakdown is teaching us the extent to which greed and selfishness-- both individual and collective--are contrary to the order of creation, an order which is characterized by mutual interde-pendence . Simplicity., moderation, and discipline, as well as a spirit of sacrifice, must become part of everyday life, lest all suf-fer the negative consequences of the careless habits of a We commit OldYselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a difference-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the abandoned in our world. Januao~Feb~wa~y 1998 Markham * Leadershi~for the Common Good few . An education in ecological responsibility is urgent; responsibility for oneself, for others, and for the earth . (John Paul II, 1990) Engaging in this efficacious action on behalf of the common good calls each of us to a deeper expression of our personal value and meaning and makes it available for the well-being of one another. To lead on behalf of the common good is as exciting as it is heroic. To stay centered on the ultimate vision of unity; to manage conflict in service of what is true, faithful, and just; to stand committed to the unfolding meaning of our identity in mis-sion-- these things are the substance of leaders who invite con-version and the linking of spirits and hearts at a time when not to do so is, all too probably, to toy with death. Steering Clear of Resistance Temptations to let oneself be drawn away from the demands of such a ministry of spirit-linking leadership abound. To allow oneself to be caught up in efforts directed toward problem persons and a minimal status quo is to entrench oneself and one's con-gregation in a futile defensiveness. Recognizing the difference between getting caught up in crisis management and working with the crisis in order to promote the common good is an art form that requires continual attention and development. In the process we must guard against a certain emotional and behavioral passivity that lulls us into a tolerance of diversity without restraint. Individual efforts and accomplishments should not crowd out the larger vision of a community's contemporary identity in mis-sion. When community leaders sideline or postpone or limit a unified group response to the crying needs of God's people and God's world, when leaders give too much attention to individual members (to their preferences, their convenience, even their per-sonal gratification) or fail to set limits on behaviors that stand in the way of the greater good, then something is wrong. Any group, of course, has maintenance tasks that need atten-tion. But how much time and energy should those entrusted with leadership today spend on those tasks? Honest self-evaluation of the use of team time is an important reality test for a leadership group. Such a group needs continual creative redesign so as to become or remain free to lead and not just manage. Beyond merely managing or even merely leading, I ask con- Rev&w for Religious gregational leaders to call one another and to call our communi-ties to heroism. Call us to risk entering into conflictual conver-sations that hold promise of connecting us in trust and in hope to one another. Lead us into the midst of difficult dialogues that will bring us into deeper and more respectful relationship with all who long for a church, a society, and a world in which communion in spirit and in truth prevails. Risk calling us to concrete corpo-rate ministerial responses. Invite us to be passionate. Help us to face together the different, the other, the frightening, and the unexpected so that we may discover ever more deeply that the good which we hold in common is nothing less than participa-tion in the compassionate goodness and mystery of God. Bibliography Bandura, A. "Human Agency: The Emperor Does Have Clothes." Canadian Psychological Association Convention, Keynote Address, June 1997. Bellah, R., et al. The Good Society. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Claremont de Castillejo, I. Knowing Woman:/t Feminine Psychology. Harper Colophon Books, 1974. Hollenbach, D. "The Common Good Revisited." Theological Studies 50, no. I (1989), pp. 70-94. Hollenbach, D. "The Catholic University and the Common Good." Current Issues in Higher Education 16, no. 1 (1995). John Paul II. "Peace with God the Creator, Peace with All of Creation." Papal statement, 1 January 1990. Lipman-Blumen, J. The Connective Edge: Leading in an Interdependent World. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996. Rivers, E The Way of the Owk Succeeding with lntegv-i~y in a Conflicted World. HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Roszak, T., M.E. Gomes, and A.D Kanner, eds. Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1995. Tracy, D. Plurality and Ambiguity: Hermeneutics, Religion, Hope. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987. Whyte, D. The Heart/1roused: Poetry and the Preset'ration of the Soul in Corporate America. New York: Doubleday Currency, 1994. Wren, J.T., ed. The Leader's Companion: Insights on Leadership through the Ages. New York: Free Press, 1995. Janttary-Feb~'uary 1998 thNv N E MUNLEY Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium I love you, God, with a penny ~natch of love that I strike when the big and bullying dark of need chases my startled sunset over the hills and in the walls of my house small terrors move.~ ~edeeSSica Powers's image, "a penny match of love," is a won-rful imag~e o.f human desire for God that yearns" to be stronger, that yearns to ignite hearts, capture imaginations, shape dreams, and awaken possibilities. There is nothing paltry about God's gifts. God longs to kindle our penny matches of love into a growing fire as we gather here, more than a thousand strong, representing ninety-four percent of the women religious of the United States. It is a precious gift to be alive and to be called to leadership as one millennium ends and another begins. The last decades of the 20th century have been a time of cataclysmic change. The coming of the third millennium is certain to prompt diverse mus-ings about the challenges of this moment in history. Some, lament-ing present evils, will forecast doom. Others will gloss over substantive issues of dignity and justice to focus on the bizarre. Still others, including ourselves, will view the millennium as a kairos time for renewing hearts and transforlning society. Anne Munley IHM presented this paper, here edited and somewhat short-ened, as the presidential address to the August 1997 national assembly, in Rochester, New York, of the Leadership Conference of V¢o~nen Religious. She may be addressed at the I.H.M. Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious The year 2000 presents the world with an extraordinary occa-sion to commemorate-the birth of Christ as an historical fact and as a saving event for humanity for all times. The new millennium is an invitation to renewed wonder at the lavishness of a God who so loved the world that Jesus, the Christ, took on human flesh that all might become alive in God. We are called to leadership in a time when humanity yearns for connection with God, with one another, and with all creation. Yet we are acutely aware that we live in a world of violence, envi-ronmental desecration, economic polarization, racism, poverty, systemic oppression, and cultural breakdown. Our senses are bur-dened with images of human suffering in the homes, streets, vil-lages, neighborhoods, suburbs, and cities of this nation and throughout the world. In this age of globalization, when the peo-ples of the world are linked together as never before by commu-nication, economic interdependence, and the diffusion of cultural values, gaps continue to grow between rich and poor. Most peo-ple would agree that beneath obvious contemporary problems lie a crisis of the spirit and an erosion of concern for the common good. There is little sense that all the peoples of the earth are brothers and sisters having a common destiny in one global fam-ily created by the God of infinite love and compassion, but such a sense is what is needed." Inside the walls of our house, "the bul-lying dark of need" aches to see flames of love and moral com-mitment, aches for a revolution of the human heart and a resurgence of spiritual leadership. There are many signs of hope for this moment: conscious-ness that there is a crisis, desire for practical life-giving solutions, hunger for meaning, purpose, and direction and a longing for connectedness. The biblical concept of jubilee offers a revolu-tionary vision of reform for these times. The call to jubilee rec-ognizes the sanctity of time, the sacredness of creation, the importance of rest and contemplation, the equality of all in the eyes of God, the need to attend to the common good and the jus-tice of right relationships. The biblical jubilee calls for forgiveness, reconciliation, and joy, not ju.st an inner joy but a jubilation that is expressed in communal celebration) In proclaiming a new covenant of unity among peoples, Jesus brought the jubilee promise to life. We lead in a time of soul-stretching possibility. It is a holy time for "bringing good news to the afflicted, liberty to captives, January-Februaly 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed." One of the greatest gifts that leaders can bring to this age is a sense of hope that transformation is possible. This gift is a penny match of love that can ignite great fires. Scientists tell us that tiny movements can have a huge cumulative impact on vast systems.4 Spiritual seekers discovered this truth long ago. In the words of Kukei, an 8th-century Zen master: "A hand moves, and the fire's whirling takes different shapes . All things change when we do."SMore than anything else these times need leaders who can bring to the outer world the transforming spirit of the inner world. Spiritual Leadership Recent literature about leadership reflects growing awareness that spirituality sustains community, meaning, and hope. The titles of many of these works suggest a shift toward conscious-ness of the inner life: Leading with Soul, The Corporate Mystic, The Heart .4roused, The Soul of Politics, and "Leading from Within.''6 The message of Leading ~vitb Soul is that leadership is a jour-ney of the heart. Heart, hope, faith, compassion, and courage are essential to leadership, to the creation of communities of mean-ing, and to a rediscovery of the ethical and spiritual center of society. Corporate mystics are spiritual leaders who are comfort-able with their own spirituality and who nurture the spiritual development of others. Corporate mystics call forth the best in themselves and others; they operate with integrity and intuition and pursue their visions with passion and compassion. In The Heart/1roused, the poet David Whyte links the inner world of spirit and creativity to the preservation of the soul in corporate America. Whyte knows well that leadership from within involves far more than techniques, plans, goals, or strategies. In his latest book of poetry, The House of Bdonging, he urges us to remember:7 What you can plan is too small for you to live. To be human is to become visible while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others. Re'view for Religious Jim Wallace in The Soul of Politics and Parker Palmer in his essay "Leading from Within" emphasize responsibility for co-creating the world we live in by bringing to it the best of our spiritual traditions and convictions. Our spiritual traditions tell us that we are not victims of the world as it is, but are its co-cre-ators. Borrowing from Annie Dillard,s Palmer says that, unless leaders are willing to take the spiritual journey inward and down-ward, we are likely to project what we hate in ourselves onto other people because we fear to face the enemy in our own souls. Great leaders have the courage to face their shadow side and consciously choose to project a spirit of light. Our own experiences on the inner journey and as women religious committed to co-creation of a just and loving world are a valuable part of our call to lead-ership within our communities. Gift of a Heart Afire At this national assembly of ours in outstate New York, I recall the determination and incredible belief in possibility of the hand-ful of women who organized in 1848 the Seneca Falls Convention that lit a fire to change the legal and political position of women in the United States. Using various means to secure suffrage for women, leaders like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, and Carrie Chapman Cart drew on their inner fire to breathe spirit and passion into their quest for reform. Women like Mice Paul, Lucy Burns, and Rose Winslow must have drawn deeply on their inner strength as they endured impris-onment, hunger strikes, and forced feedings. I recall also the countless women from all ethnic, class, and racial backgrounds who addressed severe social problems at the end of the last century and the early decades of this one. I recall the inner fire, faith, and vision that sustained the founding and pioneer members of our congregations, enabling them to over-come great obstacles. In the depths of their hearts they realized that, for those who love, the impossible becomes possible. I am conscious of the millions of people who daily confront abuses of human rights and work for change. I am conscious of all of the women religious throughout the world who, with listening hearts and eyes focused on today's fierce urgencies and spiritual hungers, continue to imagine alternate possibilities as they struggle toward the reality of God's reign in the immediate circumstances of daily January-February 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire life. I am conscious of the collective spiritual energy in this room and of the force that it is for the life of the world. Understood in its broadest sense, spirituality includes more than the inner life. It is, in the words of the theologian Anne Carr, "the whole of one's spiritual or religious experience, one's beliefs, convictions, and patterns of thought, one's emotions and behavior in respect to what is ultimate, or to God.''9 As women of faith and conviction, the greatest resource we can bring to the new millennium is the spiritual leadership of a heart afire. Spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good for all. When the heart is on fire, light comes from within. With the "eyes of the enlightened heart," we can see the hope to which we are called (Ep 1:18). By baptism and the mystery of vocation we have proclaimed publicly that the quest for God and the new creation is the fire of our lives. Our world longs for visible expressions of God's saving presence and for new ways of seeing that are graces of the inner experi-ence of God's love. In the Christian tradition seeing with the eyes of the heart occurs on the journey of discipleship. Discipleship is not an easy journey. It is an ongoing effort to live the gospel with integrity--trying, sometimes succeeding, often failing, recognizing the need of being forgiven and then trying again. It is a way of being in the world that affects every relationship. Disciples shape one another according to the action of the Spirit in their lives. The energy of the disciple flows from faith in what_is unseen yet believed. At its root, discipleship is a call to a love that never gives up on God, one's neighbor, or oneself. Disciples are called to love well., as Jesus did, with hope, truth, fidelity, and compassion. This leads inevitably to taking a stand with the Christ of the paschal mystery, who willingly laid down his life in love so that all may have life in abundance. In these times, spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good. for all. Such transformation will happen in our communities and in the world around us when Review for Religious precepts of compassion and justice inspire the collective soul and have an impact on behavior. All around us and among us there are compelling stories of discipleship. As leaders we need to see them with the eyes of the heart. In the sharing of the stories, heart touches heart and souls are filled with the spirit that makes ongoing commitment possible. Meaning-Making Spiritual leaders empower their communities for ongoing commitment by keeping questions of meaning before them: Why are we together in community? How are we called to the unique circumstances of these times? What is our commitment to one another and to those with whom we journey? In times of sub-stantive change there is an extraordinary need to explore ques-tions of meaning and purpose. In the midst of chaos, a coherent worldview and a dynamic understanding of the relevance of reli-gious life are helps toward interpreting the signs of the times and living discipleship with integrity. Leaders can make an enor-mous contribution to this process by helping the other members to make sense of shifting fealties both outside religious !ife and within it. At the deepest level, our congregations are held together by myths, values, beliefs, and foundational stories. These are the roots of the congregation's identity and purpose. They constitute the why of our being together as communities. They have their effect on the passion with which we live our mission. They influ-ence the way we use resources, the way we work together to press the mission forward. The shared meaning and work and mem-ory of our lives together provide symbols, relationships, and prin-ciples for making sense of the changes going on within us and around us. Shared meaning is essential for shared commitment. At a time of rapid social change and shifting demographics and resources, spiritual leadership is not about getting people to do something. It is about helping the group to keep before itself the kind of meaning that will guide choices and call forth com-mitment.~° Spiritual leadership is a group process rather than an individual's personal qualities or skills. It is interactive and rela-tional. When members of a community are closely involved in piecing shared meanings together as a basis for corporate action or direction, they experience significance together, discovery together, leadership together. Today, as many congregations grap- pie with issues of governance and restructuring, it is a key func-tion of leadership to foster meaning-making together. The more things change around us and within us, the more important it will be to create connections for exploring the pos-sibilities that change and newness offer. As Margaret Wheatley notes, "Life invites us to create not only the forms but even the process of discovery.''l~ The kind of effort that we put into mean-ing- making will affect the credibility of our way of life as well as our own sense of authenticity and integrity. Integrity and Justice In

Issue 55.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1996. ; Revi for Retig ous i, a fo .m for shared res ea on on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis UniversiD, 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@SL UVCA.SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY/AUGUST1996 *VOLUME55 *' NUMBER4 contents 342 symposium - part 3 Religious Life: Directions for a Future Albert Dilanni SM reviews three stages of religious-life renewal and sets forth those areas for future efforts. 365 expanding vision Internationality: Consciousness Raising and Conversion Janet Malone CND highlights six stages of consciousness raising in the process of a religious group's becoming purposefully international. 373 Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community Finian McGinn OFM presents the challenge of multicultural diversity in religious-life communities and some directions towards resolution. Review for Religious 388 396 new life It's Summer! A Letter to Young Religious Robert P. Maloney CM encourages those who are young to enjoy and use well the gifts of this summertime of life. Emerging Forms of U.S. Religious Life Marlene Weisenbeck FSPA identifies the motivations and the relationships between charism, mission, and ministry in the formation of new communities and styles of consecrated life. 414 425 340 431 436 witnessing I Guess and Fear Donald Macdonald SMM suggests some clarity points in the midst of current confusions in religious life. Force of Habit William Jud Weiksnar OFM reflects upon the sign and symbol value of the simple brown tunic of a Franciscan. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Current Legislation Book Reviews .~uly-August 1996 prisms FVhenT/~7 is "enough" enough? It is the common question: Did you get enough to eat? enough to drink? Is the room warm (cool) enough for you? Enough is a hard concept to define in our practical living. If people's perception of their own worth as persons is tied up in their work, when have they worked long enough or hard enough? Some people find it difficult to turn over responsibility to others or "to retire." Enough seems not to have a place in their vocabulary. Others at a younger age let work consume their days and evenings and weekends. They, too, seem oblivious to the possibil-ity of freely chosen limits. We have heard the phrase "get a life" and we know that it can be a criticism to the quick for such people. Besides questions of food and drink and work and rest, enough plays a similarly difficult role in determining security. When are there more lights outside and more locks and alarm systems than we need for reasonable secu-rity? When do we have enough money for travel and its surprises and emergencies? When is there enough money put aside for care of the elderly--others or ourselves? The danger with a money-focus is, as Jesus describes in a story, that our barns are never quite big enough to hold our piled-up wealth. When we consider healthcare in the industrialized countries, we find again the difficulty of knowing when enough medical care has been called upon and when we are moving into extraordinary and sometimes minimally enhancing medical procedures. The subtlety of enough allows us morally to steer our way between the always immoral assistdd suicide and the decision to refuse any extraordinary means to prolong life. Review for Religious For each of us, in our uniqueness, to know how to live enough and move enough and have being enough remains a rich grace-gift to be prayed for. We call the gift which helps us to say "enough" Christian discernment. To be a person who discerns demands that we be people attuned to the working of God's Spirit in our lives. Discernment is not a process of decision making that we stir up on a moment's whim. When we think of people (per-haps including ourselves) as being attuned to God, we mean that they have a serious and ongoing relationship with God in prayer and in reflecting on the Scriptures and God's workings in the world. Such people find themselves growing in a sensitivity, as all lovers do, to the ways of seeing, the desires, and the ways of acting of the one loved. That kind of sensitivity is the power source of our Christian discernment. Because sensitivity is involved, it is not something we learn by rulebooks although Jesus reminds us that "I have come, not to abolish [the law and the prophets], but to fulfill them" (Mt 5:17). As we can appreciate, the process of discerning is not a sometime thing that we can blithely manage at short notice unless we are sensitized lovers of God. The dailyness of prayer and Eucharist are privileged ways for us becoming lovers growing in sensitivity. Today we seem to live with the question of Enough? in many areas of our lives, and our personal decision about enough does not come easy. We need to enter deeply into our Catholic faith and experience Jesus' promise of "another Paraclete." Yet there is one instance of enough which remains a paradox. Can we ever grow enough in God's love that our sensitivity for discernment can say "enough"? David L. Fleming SJ NOTE: On our inside front cover we provide our E-mail address. For some of our domestic and international subscribers, it may give convenient and helpful access to our editorial office. ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life: Directions for a Future symposium part 3 Today we often hear a question seldom asked before Vatican Council II: "How is it going with your congre-gation?" And We know immediately that the questioner is interested in vocations. Nearly always the answer is: "Quite good in the third world, but bad in the first world." After thirty years of renewal efforts, the average age of most congregations founded before the 20th century is in the 60s for male l~eligious.and in the 70s for female reli-gious. Patricia Wittberg speaks of "catastrophic decline," "collapse," and "probable demise," and Markham, of "mas-sive denial." In the 1960s religious women in the United States numbered over 200,000. They have suffered a 55 percent decline and now number about 90,000. Given their average age we can expect further decline. Male reli-gious have suffered a decline of over 30 percent. We can hedge about these cold facts, but they are a cause for deep concern. A moderate decline in vocations would be man-ageable, but such a steep decline demands that we ask searching questions about the process of renewal. There are disparities within the vocation situation. In the first world, some communities are attracting significant numbers of candidates. They are the newer communities like Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity and the Albert Dilanni SM last wrote for us in September-October 1993. He is now superior of the Marist novitiate, Our Lady of Mercy, at 15 Notre Dame Avenue; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02140. Review for Retigio'us Legionaries of Christ. In Mexico the Legionaries are referred to as the. new Jesuits and are subjected to criticisms similar to those launched against Jesuits in an earlier age. (A new group with a similar name, Cruzados de Cristo, has sprung up in Mexico and is enjoying similar vocational success.) The Fellowship of New Religious Communities had sixty-three new Catholic congrega-tions on its 1993 mailing list. There are at least two dozen oth-ers) Most of these groups are traditional in theology, but creative in developing community structures and prayer forms and in their integration of the laity. Even in the third world, vocational growth is not homoge-neous. The .main areas of growth are sub-Saharan Africa and parts of Asia, especially India and Indonesia. Brazil, on the other hand, is either stable or on the decline. The crucial factor seems to be that the churches of Africa and Asia, often surrounded by strong Muslim groups, tend to be more "conservative" of classical Catholic practices and spirituality, while the Brazilian church more than all others has adopted liberationist tendencies. Three Stages of Renewal I believe that we are in the second' phase of a three-step pro-cess in the renewal of religious life since Vatican II. The first step was the explosion immediately after Vatican II, an explosion pro-voked not only by the council but by the secular cultural revolu-tion. It was a time for rejecting all categories and trying to live in the in between. It was a time'of high experimentation in theology and lifestyles, of reexamination of all institutions including the family, traditional morality, and etiquette. In religious life we moved away from whatever seemed rigid, artificial, and stiflingly traditional, in favor of what seemed more dynamic, new, and life-giving. No longer defensive regarding the democratic ideals of the West, we sought to integrate them into our congregational existence. We dismantled structures that were in place for cen-turies, emphasized interpersonal dialogue and individual needs, decentralized authority, created leadership teams, redefined poverty, chastity, and obedience, abandoned institutional aposto-lates in favor of small-group work with the poor or the marginal, and reinterpreted community in terms of sharing quality time together. It was the best of times and the worst of times. It was a time of great creativity especially in the founding of new types J'ul),-./lugust 19~6 Dilanni ¯ ReligiousLife The second stage of the renewal, is the time of the winnowing fan, the stage of sober reassessment. of apostolate--Joan Chittister often stresses this and women's role in it--but also a time of great confusion, of loss of identity, of abandonment of loyalties, of many departures and few arrivals, of decline in morale and fear of the future. The second stage of the renewal, in which we presently find ourselves, is the time of the winnowing fan, the stage of sober reassessment. Recent books and articles from all "over the ideo-logical spectrum are calling for self-criticism and evaluation of the directions taken .by the renewal: Avery Dulles, Elizabeth McDonough, Joan Chittister, Patricia Wittberg, Martin Tripole, Mary Jo Leddy, Judith Merkle, David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, and on and on. Almos~ all urge a move beyond the individualism apparent in the so-called "liberal" model. They speak of the need of "common vision" and a "corporate sense" and "criteria by which the validity of their lives can be measured." The authors do not agree on the solution. Some call for a deeper retrieval of the community's charism (if it has a charism); others, for a real communal commit-ment to helping the poor and the oppressed; and still others, like MaryJo Leddy and Joan Chittister, for a move beyond liberalism to something even more radical or revolutionary. The third stage in this renewal process will be, I believe, a time of greater peace, when the good features of the new have been institutionalized and its excesses discarded and Catholics once again view religious life as a way to follow Christ in a more literal way. In this symposium, however, we are still at the stage of sober reassessment, discussing whether we need to shift into a new gear and or just stay on cruise-control. I approach this challenge not in despair but in hope, a hope that arises out of reading the his-tory of religious life. Before the French Revolution (1789) there were 300,000 male religious "in Europe. Forty years after the Revolution this number had decreased by more than two-thirds to 70,000. But in the 1830s a great revival began. Some 600 new Roman Catholic religious congregations were founded in the 19th century, more than at any other period, and the actual number of religious attained historic new heights. The Jesuits, who had been suppressed from 1773 to 1814, flourished as never before. A similar reflowering is not impossible in our time. Review for Religious o The contemporary crisis of religious life has been very deep. It is related to the .attempt to restate the Christian faith for an age called postmodernity. We have been adapting with great strain to a new kind of need for God, not a God of the gaps who fills in for the weaknesses of science, but a God at the center of life, a God who provides depth of meaning and answers our ultimate concern. Directions for a Future: Background Considerations ., George Aschenbrenner SJ felt that in my 1994 book I had set down criteria that might guide a reevaluation of the renewal and an effective move to the future.2 So for the present symposium he assigned me this topic: What are the criteria for judging whether a .proposed change of direction or structure in religious life will be a profitable change? What are the signs of a good change? I have interpreted his question as asking: In what directions should we move, and why? But, before we can entertain the question of directions, some background considerations are necessary. First, we must realize that the theological backdrop to religious life has shifted dra-matically. Up to thirty years ago, all religious, irrespective of their style of life, shared a theological consensus that dated back to the early church. Whether they were hermits, monks and nuns, medieval mendicants, apostolic Jesuit-type religious, or religious of the newer 19th-century type, all religious viewed themselves as primarily engaged in saving souls, their own and those of others. Christianity in general and religious life in particular were given a mystical and eschatological interpretation and were concerned with union with God and "the four last things." Intellectual activ-ity and teaching and care of the sick were important, but were subordinate to a concern for eternal salvation, the "one thing necessary." Since Vatican II, however, chinks have appeared in this higher unity, this sacred canopy, and basic questions have been asked about the meaning of Christianity and the place of religious within it. While the media and some religious focus on controversial issues of church polity like clerical celibacy and women's ordination, the deeper questions are: How should we conceive of our relationship to God? Does salvation begin on earth? What is the meaning of the kingdom of God? Within the mystical-eschatological emphasis, the dominant metaphor for women's congregations was that of becoming a ~uly-Aug~st 1996 Dilanni ¯ Reli~ous L~e "spouse of Christ." To some people of today, this may seem intol-erably sexist, patriarchal or "kyriarchal," but the image contains a core of meaning valid for both men and women. It underscores the need for an affective union with Christ and with a personal God. Mystical language was its common coinage. Commentators spoke of "spiritual marriage" and "transforming union." Many books were written about progress in mental prayer, contempla-tion, and the three stages of the interior life. Today a hunger for spirituality is still alive among religious, witness the popularity of directed retreats and the Ignatian Exercises. It is part of what David Tracy calls an "amazing resurgence in spirituality.''3 Nevertheless, our consuming interest has been elsewhere. Whereas previously religious sought to move outward from a deep interiority, we have preferred to begin with exteriority. Like behaviorists, we have been convinced that action shapes hearts and that congregational renewal would come from movement into relevant apostolates that reexpressed our charism. The "spouse of Christ" model was criticized as a "beautiful soul" spir-ituality, and its practitioners were compared to birds preening themselves. Salvation was brought down to earth, and holiness was linked with wholeness--becoming a well-integrated person-- and with service to others. "Crazy" saints like Philip Neri (who did outlandish things out of humility) were out. The fasting of Catherine of Siena and others has been understood as "holy anorexia" (Rudolph Bell's term), a subconscious protest against male domination. Unless mortification was relational--a sacri-fice involved in one's work for others--it was conside~'ed unhealthy. Better to work for and with the poor than to fast in adoration of God. As a result, a new metaphor for religious life replaced spouse of Christ. It was the image of the prophet at the cutting edge of social and political issues,, breaking new ground in the liberation and humanization of peoples, especially through systemic change in favor of the poor and oppressed. After the Jesuits' dramatic shift toward faith and justice, the charisms of most other active congregations, no matter how diverse, were suddenly found to center on these same concerns. The Roman synod of 1971 called social justice a "constitutive" part of the Christian apostolate, and many interpreted this as meaning that it was to be a necessary component of each apostolate. Most recently, however, a reac-tion has set in. Jesuits like Avery Dulles and Martin Tripole, while Review for Religious agreeing .that social justice should be a fundamental concern of religious life, resist the notion that it is an essential ingredient of each Jesuit apostolate. It is now reported that even Pedro Arrupe SJ, its principal protagonist, had second thoughts about how it was absolutized.4 Strangely, the metaphor of religious as social prophet did not attract numbers of vocations, certainly not in the first world. Marie Augusta Neal admits this and attributes it to fear of its inherent difficulty and risks. But, historically, danger did not deter but rather whetted the appetite of people intent on the religious adventure. Nineteenth-century missionaries like St. Peter Chanel boarded rickety ships on precarious one-way trips lasting eleven months to preach to peoples who had not yet emerged from can-nibalism. Could the resistance to the new prophetic stance be due to something other than fear? Could it be that, however admirable, it is not perceived by Christian consciousness to be at the center of the religious project? In what follows I will set out three directions in which we must move in future efforts toward renewal. The first two are sociological and could apply to almost any social group or cor-porate entity. They are actually dialogues with Wittberg and with Nygren and Ukeritis, whose studies I find revealing. The third direction is theological and addresses some of the questions just raised. Directions for a Future The first direction: An effective religious community must be visible. Recent authors have sounded the alarm that religious life, especially among women, is disappearing as a visible corporate entity, as an institutional presence. Joan Chittister writes that religious communities have "done a great deal to foster the prophetic individuals in their midst," but "at the same time, they have done very little to function as prophetic groups.''5 Elsewhere she dramatizes: "Religious must ask themselves what they stand for as a congregation and who knows it, because if nobody knows it we don't stand for it." She continues: "When we stood for edu-cation, health service, and the care of innocent children, everyone knew it. When we stood for insertion of Catholics into the white Anglo-Saxon world, no one called that political, and everyone knew what we were about, Religious congregations stood as bul-j~ uly-dug~st 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life warks against ignorance, illiteracy, disease, abandonment, and secularism. We turned our resources in those directions. Now we have the best-educated groups in the world, each member of which is regarded with professional respect, and the most invisi-ble congregations.''6 " This is an important point that should guide future planning. If as religious we desire truly to influence others and attract new candidates, we cannot act as disembodied spirits, noncorporeal freedoms, anti-institutional angels. We must witness not only as individuals but as a collective unity. And to do so we must be vis-ible as a collective unity. Clearly, religious were more visible as members of a group when they worked in institutional commit-ments and wore an identifiable religious habit. When they left these institutions and took on secular jobs in social service, when they declined the habit and were absorbed into the crowd, they tended to lose corporate impact of all kinds, even the new one of being socioreligious prophets. "The more its members became unidentifiable," says Wittberg, "the more difficult it became for any order, as a corporate entity, to fulfill its newly defined prophetic role.''7 Another major cause of the current invisibility of religious congregations has been our readiness to embrace contemporary democracy's postmodern move toward absolute egalitarianism and nonelitism. Eager to abdicate every hint of triumphalism, we have become levelers. This is seen in the way we have interpreted Lumen gentium's universal call to holiness, which, according to Wittberg, hit like a bombshell and robbed religious of a sense of distinctive identity. It had this effect because theologians and reli-gious interpreted it politically rather than theologically or spiri-tually. "We are all called to holiness," said the commentators, emphasizing the word all, as if the point of the doctrine were to rule out all talk about more or less effective roads to holiness or about religious life being a way of perfection aspiring to something higher. But is the political point the central thrust of the decla-ration? Should we not place less stress on the "all" and more on what we are all called to, that is, holiness? Should religious not be less worried about standing out (or failing to stand out) and more concerned about redoubling their efforts to achieve holiness within their life and lifestyle? In fact, what happened was that the idea of striving for personal holiness dropped out as the cen-tral concern for religious. Review for Religious The reason for this overemphasis on the political may be due to the church's relative inexperience with democracy and moder-nity. In her sociological study of religious orders; Wittberg con-tends that the 19th-century religious congregations, sharing the restorationist mentality of the church, never really came to grips with the modern thrust toward liberty, fraternity, and equality. Rather, these congregations retreated into a fuga mundi (flight from the world), reinstated 17th-century practices, and lived in a time warp for years. In America this was exacerbated because most religious sprang from and ° worked in isolated immigrant subcultures. It is perhaps because of this that, when Vatican II opened the doors, the congre-gations went overboard in their embrace of the new forms of participative democ-racy. We eagerly adopted its absolute horror of distinctions for fear of elitism and played down all differences between religious and laypersons. As a result we vanished as visible corporate groups purporting to be on a different road to holiness.8 But can this continue? Can the concept of religious life long endure in an atmosphere of hyper-egalitarianism? Would reli-gious life ever have sprung up at all if some persons did not desire to be different and follow Jesus in a more literal way? Wittberg describes religious life as a form of virtuoso or (less frequently) heroic religiosity. Practitioners of virtuoso religiosity are those within a religion who want to go the extra mile. They want to create a zone of intensity within the field of holiness. They p(r-ceive themselves as different and, to some degree, as exemplars. Prospective virtuosi come together, says Wittberg, "in the expec-tation that their participation will help to maintain some collective good--the health and welfare of the destitute, or the conversion of heretics, or even the establishment of a utopia of saints on earth that can serve as a beacon to others.''9 Christianity and other religions have always spawned such virtuosi. Luther dissolved the vows of the monks and declared everyone equal in the quest for holiness, but soon Protestantism was crowded with Pietists, Mennonites, and Anabaptists. Later it was the Shakers and today the Pentecostals. Recently, new virtu-osi groups have mushroomed Within Catholicism: the Legionaries of Christ, the Missionaries of Charity, the Lion ofJuda, Les Fr~res We must witness not only as individuals but as a collective unity. July-August 1996 DiIanni ¯ Religious Life de. St. Jean, the Opus Dei, the Neo-catechumenate, the Focolare, the Sant' Egidio community of Rome, Comunione e liberazione, and so forth. All model themselves on the early Christian com-munity in Acts or the seventy disciples commissioned by Jesus (Lk 10), both of which seem to represent Christianity lived in its highest purity. Like the early Christians, these new groups believe that forming Christians is not easy, but requires being challenged to live one's baptism; requires a formation process, a "way" (some form of RCI& program), a sustaining community, and a partici-pative liturgy. We must accept the fact that as religious we desire to be dif-ferent and follow Christ in a distinctive way. If we are to influence others, to witness as prophets, our commitment must be in some way public and Visible. If this is perceived as a higher way, so be it. Chalk it up to diversity. We cannot blur all distinctions out of a fear of elitism. All groups that aspire for something more are in danger of elitism and must be warned against it, but their enthu-siasm should not be crushed. Members of religious congregations purport to live their Christianity in a way that is differently orga-nized, more regulated, more intense, and at times more difficult than that of other Christians. They will have an impact on oth-ers to the degree that their sacrifice is real and their corporate witness is visible. Whether through all this they always succeed in becoming men and women of God is another question. The second direction: Effective religious community should be inten-tional as opposed to merely associational, and this demands a transcen-dent corporate goal and adequate commitment mechanisms. An intentional community is a community with a purpose for the sake of which members are willing to make significant sacri-fices of their individual preferences. Examples are sports teams and the military. An intentional community is different from an associational community, which admits a plurality of goals and calls for a lesser degree of sacrificing of individual preferences. Intentional communities have a strong sense of direction. This is due to at least two things: a transcendent corporate cause and a set of commitment mechanisms, that is, common sacrificial prac-tices that reinforce commitment at a level deeper than rational persuasion. We will consider these two elements in turn. A transcendent corporate goal: Discussing visibility, we have already dealt with the need for a goal, for being clear on where the Review for Religious group stands. Here I make the further point that the goal must be one that transcends the community itself. I say this because some authors seem to believe that the goal of a community can be inter-nal to ~the community itself. Edwin Keel and Susan Beaudry, for example, propose a third ruling metaphor for religious life, beyond those of the spouse of Christ and prophecy. For them, religious life is best presented under the image of a journey together toward God. They maintain that "what religious have been seeking, whether they realize it or not, and what religious community can offer, is neither surrogate family life, nor friendship, nor the intio macy~of small groupings, but faith companionship on the spiritual journey." 10 They describe the common spiritual journey in terms of a discovery of one's personal vocation before God and an integra-tion of it with that of others. Spiritual maturity is achieved by getting in touch with what Jung calls the Self, which lies deeper than the ego and is the place where we truly meet God. The old perfection model of holiness with its rigid rules tended to flat-ten individual differences and to foster immaturity. The journey image with its new and democratic skills--province assemblies, mission statements, corporate reflection processes, confrontation techniques (all now permanent parts of religious life)--may seem messier, but is psychologically healthier. Community life is like a family going on a trip in a crowded van, constantly negotiating, sometimes bickering, always arriving, never reaching. Some of these spiritual-journey elements are valuable; but I wonder whether the journey can be the dominant metaphor of religious life. Does it not tempt us to remain in an associational model of community, which, to believe tl~e experts, does not endure beyond one generation?I' Does it not come too close to what Gerald Arbuckle has called the "therapeutic" community? Can it generate the needed intensity and direction? For all the benefits of psychology, are not psychological self-absorption and an overly intense regard for the internal aspects of community part of the cause of our present decline? Wittberg says, "'The dominant language of religious life., shifted from theological constructs to social and psychological paradigms,' that were inad-equate to explain what was distinct or desirable about the lifestyle."~2 This has gone so far that in some congregations com-munity members who desire entry into a new local community must first present a written evaluation of themselves from the July-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life community they are leaving. In other congregations the .concern for personal autonomy and consensus has at times resulted in the election of effete leaders at the local level. Is there nota middle ground between the not-in-touch-with-their-feelings religious of the past and some present-day religious who have become too self-involved as individuals or as community? In order to form an intentional community, people must come together for the sake of a cause that transcends both themselves and their experience of journeying together. A clearly articulated spiritual or apostolic vision and ideal must draw them on. Each member must partially relinquish his or her personal, vocation in favor of the vocation of the congregation. One's personal project must be trimmed in favor of the community proiect, Older reli-gious tell stories of pioneer days in schools and hospitals when they roomed together in classrooms and toiled almost slave hours. They may stress the pain and suffering, but from the glee with which they tell the stoW we know they would not have exchanged it for the world. Their reward lies in having been part of some-thing greater thanthemselves, protagonists together in a great religious adventure. Commitment mechanisms: Historically, intentional religious groups have been sustained in their resolve not only by clear tran-scendent goals but also by a number of practices that sociologists call commitment mechanisms. These are practices, customs, or rituals that reinforce motivation by solidifying the affective ties between the members. Sociologist Benjamin Zablocki contends that the commitment mechanisms discarded by congregations after Vatican II were actually essential for community survival.~3 The primary types of commitment mechanisms were first developed in the monasteries and then adapted to other forms of religious life. They are (1) common rules and rituals, (2) boundary maintenance, (3) shared sacrifices, and (4) mortification practices. 1. Common rules or rituals include the daily horarium and schedule, spiritual exercises, meals :in common, reading at meals, and grand silence. They are found in the constitutions and in books of customs. 2. Boundary-maintenance mechanisms Fiave the purpose of maintaining a clear distinction between members of the group and other people. Examples of such mechanisms are: wearing a common habit, living together in cloistered convents, bestowing new names, and reducing the visits of family and outsiders. (Today Review for Religious the lack of vocations has spawned the phenomenon of associative membership, which renders the boundaries more fluid and lessens the sense of identity. Most recently commentators are beginning to bemoan an excessive fluidity. Their plea is that such a religious congregation cannot long endure unless there is a strong core group of full-fledged members who are strongly distinguished from others.) 3. Shared sacrifices arise out of involvement in common works of the congregation. Historically there was no stronger source of cohesion than shared sacrifices in behalf of an institute's common apostolates. 4. Mortification practices include such customs as culpas, the chapter of faults, receiving monition, fasting on certain days, taking the discipline, wearing a common habit, and wearing a veil. These worked to strip off an old identity in favor of a new one and in the process helped to cement people into a higher unity. In reviewing these mechanisms I am in no way advocating a return to all or to any of them. On the other hand, religious life cannot prosper without some structures that reinforce motivation at the affective level. To move beyond individualism we need to invent common rituals and symbols that speak to us at the level of the subcon-scious. We cannot build community by teaching a charism only conceptually while leaving it to each member to embody it in his or her own way. If our religious life has no face, our communities will end up being only comfortable hotels. In replacing outdated commitment mechanisms, we must employ new psychological insights and provide adequate room for personal differences. But these new mechanisms must have some relation to past ones. In creating them we must carefully study the older structures to see what purpose they had in the mind of the founder, to discover what aspect of the charism they expressed. The new structures must be more suited to our times, but they must also connect with and incarnate the charism and spirituality of the institute. The role of the superior is a commitment mechanism of tra-ditional religious life that is not often mentioned. We must admit, People must come together for the sake of a cause that transcends both themselves and their experience of journeying together. ~dy-AuKtwt 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life however, that nothing worked better to reinforce collective unity than Mother Superior. The traditional superior, especially when he or she was also the founder, was considered a voice of God. Today, conversely, some 75 percent of religious communities of women have no superior in any traditional sense. Mother Superior has been replaced by the "director" or "animator" or by a "lead-ership team." Such language, it seems to me, confuses two dif-ferent realities, authority and leadership. The first is the attribute of an office; the second, the quality of a person. In some congregations the role of superior has been largely taken over by an appointed middle-management bureaucracy with tendencies to perpetuate itself.~4 One sister has written to me say-i. ng, "Our best leaders are in our cemetery." Without desiring to turn back the clock, I ask: Was there a resonance present in the traditional role of superior that has been lost? If past superiors were legalistic and overbearing, were the best of them not the true spiritual leaders that We still hanker for? Were they not per-sons who loved the congregation and its charism and knew how to stir hearts and shape a vision? Commitment mechanisms are making a comeback in the new congregations and in the new lay religious movements in Europe and Latin America. The Neo-catechumenate, for example, invites members into a "way" (camino), which comprises certain distinct steps, a kind of RCIA for Catholics, through which each mem-ber must pass before they are considered "formed Christians." Some of their techniques involve confrontation and mutual crit-icism. New seminaries using Neo-catechumenal techniques, all called Redemptoris Mater, are springing up in many parts of the world. The Sant' Egidio lay community of Rome invites its mem-bers to sung vespers and a commentary on the Scripture every evening. Many religious congregations use directed retreats and the renewed thirty-day Ignatian Exercises as a more personalized form of commitment mechanism. Other communities have intro-duced formal faith-sharing sessions, a kind of lectio divina in which members Ponder scripture passages or the constitutions together and then discuss them. Patricia Wittberg suggests that it might be profitable to explore the new religious movements to see how traditional Catholic frameworks for "religious virtuos-ity are being reworked, whether consciously or unconsciously. ¯ in order to address the assumptions and values of the late-20th-and early-21 st-century American culture." 1~ Review for Religiou~ Visibility, intentionality, a clear and transcendent goal, and some commitment mechanisms--these are the sociological aspects necessary to be effective as a group. For Wittberg, their lack has been the major reason why the new metaphor of religious as reli-gious prophets has not truly taken hold. Ithas failed to galvanize religious communities, she believes, because contemporary indi-vidualism and pluralism have been allowed to dominate religious life. As a good sociologist, she remains neutral with regard to the desirability of the new metaphor itself. I wonder, however, if this goes far enough. Are there not other and deeper reasons why the new metaphor of religious prophet has not really caught on? If prophecy means being on the cutting edge, the question remains: On the cutting edge of what? of politics? of social betterment? of all this, plus something more? I accept and welcome the model of prophecy, but I do question its content as expounded by many religious at the pres-ent time. I believe that the prophet must identify the deepest assumptions of the age and try to respond to its deepest hungers. Have we; aspiring religious prophets, truly engaged our culture at its deepest levels? This brings me to my third and last statement of direction. Third direction: Effective religious community demands a concept of prophecy that engages the surrounding culture at its deepest levels and responds to its most profound hungers. Wittherg and others believe that because of restorationism the 19th-century church and its many new religious orders did not come to grips with the problems of modernity. My question is: In the prophetic model as currently understood, do we do so even now? I concur with Nygren and Ukeritis, who say that those con-gregations will be revitalized that are "rooted in their relationship with God, and that, in a spirit of fidelity to their founding purpose and responsiveness to absolute human need, confront the current gap between Gospel and the culture.''16 1 agree with Chittister's formal principle that religious congregations must "release every-where in society, at every level, through every individual member, wherever the members are, and whatever separate things they do, the white heat of those congregations' charism in one great cor-porate mind and one easily seen communal heart.''17 We must engage the dominant first-world culture and do so as corporate .t~uly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life entities. We cannot run from it or remain indifferent. But, because we are religious, we must be careful to engage it at its deepest levels and not merely superficially. Historically, religious life flourished precisely when it was perceived as countering a culture's expressed values while answer-ing its deepest hungers. St. Francis of Assisi attracted followers, not because he was in conformity with his times, but because he challenged his times and in this way spoke to its heart of hearts. As we move toward the future, we must ask ourselves: What are the deepest hungers of our culture? Judith Merkle says that "the question which faces religious congregations today is what aspect of reality has the power to most deeply call us to life." 18. This is really the same question, for we are part of our culture, and our own deepest hungers will not differ much from those of the general culture. Some authors answer this question by insisting that we will be called to life by moving away from individualism and becoming a transformative community bent on creating a better world. In their eyes, the deepest need of contemporary culture is to achieve better rela-tionship with the poor, the oppressed, and the marginal; and this will be achieved by eradicating unjust social structures and oppos-ing oppressive ideologies like patriarchy, sexism, and racism. But is such a project sufficient? Is it at the center of religious prophecy? Is it where we address the deepest needs of our culture? Certainly, many of these ethical issues are important. They are a response to Gaudium et spes and in tune with the attempt of the-ologians to develop a more earth-centered interpretation of the kingdom. This new notion of the kingdom does not contradict the traditional view, but complements it. It asks us not to allow our desire for heaven to blind us to our duty to extirpate crass injus-tices in this world. In this view, the kingdom is not only a future heaven but the actual presence of God's power for transforming the world. So the religious project, the kingdom, has two loci. But, in many religious congregations, has the sociopolitical not become the solitary day-to-day focus? Is this not why the so-called prophetic model attracts so few first-world candidates? Have we not gone the route of liberal Protestantism, which in its social-gospel emphasis is fast losing ground to the Pentecostals and Evangelicals? In their nonparticipation and shifts of loyalty, are not lay Christians trying to tell us something? Review for Religious Can a religious congregation survive if its primary, all-inclu-sive goal is to solve complex and intractable social and moral issues? I doubt it. This is so especially when, in practice if not in theory, God is reduced to being a ground for human generativity or creativity in the social arena. Sociopolitical issues are impor-tant and can even be construed as religious in nature, but they are not at the center of the religious project. The center of the religious project is clear and simple: to affirm the existence and the love of God. This is true especially in our times, in which the major event has been the "death of God," the conviction that the idea of God is either meaningless or even detrimental. The first attitude comes from the side of science and the second from an existential-ist philosophy of life. The scientific picture as taught in many universities is one of a world that evolved by sheer chance from a big bang to con-scious, reflective beings. If through some. accident all conscious beings are destroyed, the Godless universe would be bereft of consciousness, and being would be a perpetual winter, In the sci-entistic worldview, sheer chance takes the place of God, and human life is voided of any objective meaning or purpose. Moral ¯ systems' become games contrived by human 'beings to bring about the maximal satisfaction of desires while avoiding conflict. The moral game is born of an enlightened egoism. For existentialists, following Nietzsche, religion must be ban-ished because it is repressive and life-denying and robs us of rad-ical freedom. It imposes an objective moral system that does not allow us to create values. We must choose between a life of free-dom and a God of enslavement. "Man dies at the touch of the Absolute," says Merleau-Ponty. One way in which existentialist atheism shows up in our culture is in its penchant for absolutiz-ing choice. No matter how dire the consequences, Americans will plump for choice on any issue. If there is no God, then each indi-vidual can be God, not only in general but at every moment and in every decision. This combination of scientific atheism and an existentialist absolutizing of individual power and choice has given rise, as Nietzsche predicted, to a sense of meaninglessness, to nihilism, to The center of the religious project is clear and simple: to affirm the existence and the love of God. July-August 1996 DiIanni ¯ Religious Life the banalizing of life, to the "unbearable lightness of being," The death of God has ushered in the death of man (and woman). Choosing and consuming, consuming and choosing, modern men and women are stranded on the anorexia-bulimia line--on the endless shuttle between fullness and emptiness." Is this all there is?" they ask. And many teenagers commit suicide or random murder, and others just keep on dancing. "Even more than athe-ism," says Walter Kasper, "the nihilism that flows from atheism is the real mark of the age."~9 This nihilism or voiding of meaning has its positive side. It is the modern expression of the hunger for God. It is in providing a lived response to this hunger that contemporary religious life will achieve its true prophetic role. Beyond all else, religious life must be a drumbeat proclaiming that God exists, that God's love for us through Jesus is unconditional, that it sustains us in suffering and continues beyond our death. The way for religious to engage the surrounding culture effectively is to witness that, far from crush-ing life, God alone gives it ultimate meaning and sense. I believe that at least two things must be retrieved by religious to help them achieve this truly religious end: interiority and, along .with it, an ardent desire to relate to the personal God who transcends the world. By interiorityI mean a new emphasis on the life of prayer and reflection and on being teachers of the spiritual life. Pierre Hadot, a French historian of philosophy, is influencing sophisticated the-ologians like David Tracy into bringing spirituality into the cen-ter of theology. He criticizes modern theology for its sharp division between theory and spiritual practice. Hadot insists that, unlike people of earlier times and of non-Western cultures, we Western moderns have not allowed theology to express itself in spiritual exercises. The old Stoics had spiritual exercises for com-ing into contact with the Logos, and this was one reason why Simone Weil loved the Stoics. The modern segmenting of the-ology and praxis--seen, for example, in the dropping of devo-tions since Vatican II--is one reason for the deep hunger for spirituality today. R~ligious must once again emphasize growth in personal holiness and speak to people about their experience of prayer, about their interior praxis with God. Our formation pro-grams must not fail to impart a sense that each person has 'a spir-itual life in which it is possible to make progress through prayer. Joan Chittister is correct when she insists that we cannot "confuse work with prayer, good intentions with the spiritual life:''2° Review for Religious We must regain a sense of the personal God who transcends the world, but with whom we can enter into intimate union. In a 1989 America article I spoke of our need to love God as well as our neighbor and said that the love of God cannot be totally expressed through neighbor love, Several weeks later, in a letter to the edi-tor, J. Robert Hilbert sJ wrote that "one must be careful" in draw-ing a distinction between love of God and love of neighbor. "God," he says, "is not an 'other' in the sense of a categorical object to be spoken of in parallel with other objects of my knowl-edge and love. It is rather precisely in God's transcendentality as the absolute Other that love of God and love of neighbor come together in a unique and necessary oneness.''2~ I do not know if such talk of God as the "absolute Other" does the job of maintaining the necessary balance between the immanence and transcendence of God. I am sure, however, that in their return to spirituality contemporary Christians are rebelling against attempts to blur the distinction between the love of God and the love of neighbor, even though both are absolutely necesshry and intimately intertwined. Classically God has been conceived of as higher than and dis-tinct from the world, a Creator who does not need us but who loves us even beyond our death and asks us to requite that love. In ~our effort to rethink the notion of God in a way acceptable to modernity, we must avoid the danger of turning God into some underlying catalyst for our doing :good, an ~lan vital or wisdom force. In the last thirty years, so many theologians liberationists, feminists, process theologians, all striving to develop an idea of a God who is intrinsic to our lives--may have fallen into just this trap, Have they not carried too far the idea that we are God's project for social betterment, that in some Hegelian way the Absolute is working through our creativity to achieve a world of peace and justice? I have two problems with the current political and this-worldly interpretations of the kingdom. The first is with the type of pol-itics it generally espouses, and the second with the primacy of politics itself. ¯ First, does not the particular type of politics espoused by some religious carry a great deal of questionable ideological baggage? A "politically correct" reading is .given to work with the poor and oppressed. The abortion question is often studiously avoided. Feminist publications of the most radical sort are taken seriously. 3~uly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life Environmentalism is fast becoming a new religion among some religious, while they fail to realize that it has become extremely big business filling many already fat pockets. A listening ear is not lent to the arguments of those who distinguish between good and bad ways of helping the poor, arguments presented in thoughtful books like Marvin Olasky's Tragedy of American Compassion. And yet anybody who is truly concerned about the poor should also be attentive to the ways in which, with the best of motives, we may be locking them into a perpetual victimhood. But, beyond these particular issues, I think there is an overem-phasis on the sociopolitical in general. Social justice and the fos-tering of the earthly kingdom is not the whole gospel nor even the center of it. The hunger for another justice beyond social justice is never altogether absent from the human heart, Social justice is important, of course, because it is the minimum, upon which an earthly Christian community can be built. When it is dramat-ically absent, we cannot remain passive. When it is dramatically absent for many years for great numbers of people, it can for a time even be a consuming passion. But we must be careful that the gospel not be totally reduced to it. For the fact remains that we die eventually and that no program of social justice exists that can prevent our death or provide meaning to our dying. Beyond social justice, the church must have something to say also, perhaps especially, to those who are about to conclude their earthly life.22 Most religious, no matter how radical their politics, do retain a strong belief in a transcendent and personal God and a faith in the resurrection of the dead. But often this does not appear to be the main focus of their life and action. Unsure of the existence~ of the devil, many religious are very adept at naming the demonic. They are sure that sin has changed and we now better understand what constitutes real sin and real virtue, Evil, they think, is not located primarily in personal sins of commission, but in 'political and economic structures and in the sins of omission that keep these structures in place. Along with this perception, they have the conviction that the new technological possibilities available to us bring new responsibilities. Thus, they are fond of repeating that, since it is now possible for the first time to feed everyone, we have a special duty to create political structures and delivery sys-tems to implement this possibility. There is doubtless much to be said in favor of this, but, religiously speaking, it contains little that is new. Systemic and structural change is simply a new aspect Review for Religious that the perennial Christian demand of love of neighbor and of the stranger has assumed today. There remains the caveat of humility: that we not think we possess the answers to complex structural problems of politics and economics and that we curb the thought that we can ever build utopia on earth. In spite ofmy theoretical recognition of social justice's impor-tance and in spite of my practical efforts, past and present, in behalf of civil rights and of the poor, I believe that, from a reli-gious point of view, the social project remains ,superficial. Metaphysically, it is ultimately uninteresting. Cornel West, the brilliant black theology professor at Harvard Divinity School, often discusses social issues on Boston television. One day he was especially aroused and ended his speech with: "My brothers and sisters, this is the real important stuf!!" I shook my head and thought: Millions of people are dead and everyone is going to die. How can a theologian give such ultimate importance to this transient consciousness show we call the world? I am more in tune with Wilfrid Duffy SM, a priest-poet friend of mine afflicted with Parkinson's, whom I took to visit Michelangelo's statue of Moses in Rome. Disappointed with Moses' worldly appearance, he wrote a poem called "The Death of Moses" which ends with these words: ~ There was no dirge-- Just hard marble, noble features, Well-spaced fingers and toes, a certain strength, and some magnificence. But no d~sert; no voice of God, Unless I was not listen.ing. Perhaps it was I who had died. In the sociopolitical vision of the kingdom as practiced by some, where is the magic Of Bernini's sculpture of St. Teresa of Avila in rapture with God? What is the meaning of fasting, prayer, personal mortification, the Eucharist, confession, the drama of conversion and grace, justification, of Jacob wrestling with an angel? Interiority and mystery seem to get short shrift in the cur-rent version of the prophetic vision, as do original sin and personal sanctification and, yes, even ultimate salvation. Have we learned the Marxist lesson too well? Annette Pelletier IHM asks some poignant questions in this regard. "Have any., of the adaptations since Vatican II pro-claimed to the people of God the basic message that grace works? yuly-August 1996 Dilanni ¯ Reli~ousLife Politics, justice, and even morality cannot be the absolute center of the religious-life agenda. What else will or can ever change the present identity crisis of consecrated persons and their various congregations into an opportunity for reform, revitalization, and renewal if not the power of Mystery to fascinate but also to convert? Has this pri-mal experience of the Judeo-Christian tradition fallen by the way-side?" She continues: "Since Vatican II, adaptation and renewal have bridged the gap between the world and the consecrated life, but of what metal has that bridge been forged? Could it be that in bridging the gap an essential element of the identity of persons consecrated to God some-how got lost? What credible and clear evi-dence do religious women and men give to show that contact with the Holy somehow, mysteriously, does make a difference?" She quotes Richard Fragomeni saying that "the Christian tradition ultimately stands in silence before the operation of grace, the wonder of surprise, and the movement of a power beyond that of human consciousness and performance.''23 To be truly prophetic in the religious sense, religious life requires an integration of these two points of view about the king-dom-- the mystical-eschatological and the sociopsychological-- both of which have their roots in the gospel. The first rightly stresses the need for a mystical union with God' in this life and the hope for ultimate union with God hereafter. The first com-mandment, said Jesus, is that we love God with our whole heart. On the other hand, the Jesus we meet in prayer and in the Scriptures is the very embodiment of a God of compassion. Jesus reveals that Yahweh is not a "generic" God (Brueggemann), but a God who is interested in justice. To be involved with the God of Jesus is to be involved with the poor and the marginal of this world. We cannot be satisfied with urging them to suffer in the hope of an eternal reward in heaven. And yet secularism remains the deepest problem of the dom-inant culture, and it is at the center of the religious project. It is in grappling with this aspect of our culture that religious ,;rill truly and most deeply engage it. The deconstructionists are hard at work trying to be rid of all "metanarratives," and the pragma-tists are banishing any attempt to ground any~statement as true, A valedictorian at Harvard recently said: "At Harvard they teach Review for Religious you that you can hold any value you want, as long as you don't hold it to be true." Television is not far behind. It continues to dis-place the deep and serious with celebrity, with hi-tech gossip, and with the tolerance morality of the talk shows. I strongly applaud Joan Chittister's suggestion that we must be corporately visible, but the principal goals she sets--educating the world about °the new social questions of the age, about sexism, racism, the environment, and multiculturalism, about the whole agenda of political correctness--all remain at the level of politics and sometimes debatable politics. There is justice and justice. Politics, justice, and even morality cannot be the absolute center of the religious-life agenda. But coming to grips with an atheis-tic secularism can, for it is a directly theological and religious issue. What is more countercultural, to say that we are going to save planet Earth or to say that Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? Which answers our deepest and most ultimate concerns? Which, metaphysically speaking, and which, from a religious point of view, is more interesting? Perhaps the last thirty years of religious life have been fruit-ful after all. With T.S. Eliot we may be able now to cease our exploration, return home, anddiscover the place for the first time. For in thirty years we have changed and perhaps only now have the wisdom to plan a renewal and a future. In our planning for the 21st century, can we not truly join action and contemplation, this-worldly love and the inystical-eschatological--envisage, that is, a close friendship between oneself as prophet and oneself as spouse of Christ? And can we not then send them both off on a splendid quest that we might call, according to the metaphor Qf Keel and Beaudry, "a journey together toward God"? Notes * See Patricia Wittberg, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: SUNY Press, 1994), p. 269. 2 See Albert DiIanni, Religious Life as Adventure (Staten Island: Alba House, 1994). 3 William R. Burrows's interview with David Tracy in America, 14 October 1995, p. 16. 4 See Martin R. Tripole, "The Roots of Faith-and-Justice: Critical Assessment," Review for Religious 54, no. 5 (September-October 1995): passim. s Joan Chittister, "Religious Life Today: Response to Kerkhofs," Religious Life Review 32, no. 4' (1993): 203. Dilanni ¯ Religious Life 6 Joan Chittister, "Religious Orders," National Catholic Reporter, 18 February 1994, p. 16. 7 Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 239. s The findings of Nygren and Ukeritis also seem to confirm that the flight to democracy was not well thought out: "Assumption~ regarding the applicabilit~ of democratic forms of governance to religious life were made with little or no conversation regarding the appropriateness of this move. Centuries-old notions of obedience were dismissed and replaced with concepts such as ,listening to the Spirit' which, while challenging, lack a history of experience to provide a context that produces consis-tency in form or process" (David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States [FORUS] [Westport, Connecticut: Praeger, 1993], p. 240). 9 Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 27. ,0 Edwin L. Keel SM and Susan Beaudry PM, "Journeying to God Together," Review for Religious 53, no. 3 (May-June 1994): 441. 1, See Elizabeth McDonough, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (January-February 1992): 82, and also Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 193. ,2Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 256. 13 See Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. xi. 14On developments of this sort, see Elizabeth McDonough, "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" Review for Religious 50, no. 2 (March- April 1991), pp. 172-173 and 176-177, and her "Past Is Prologue," pp. 79- 82. In the latter article she is using material from Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991). ,s Wittberg, Rise and Fall, p. 270. ,6 .Nygren and Ukeritis, FORUS, p. 244. ,7 Chittister, "Religious Orders," p. 16. 18 Judith A. Merkel, Committed by Choice (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992), p. 54. ,9 Walter Kasper, The God of Jesus Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1986), p. ll. 20 Chittister, "Religious Orders," p. 17. 2,America, 2 September 1989, p. 127. 22 It is unjust to ask some to struggle to the death for a future utopia to be enjoyed only by others in the future. Even the Marxist philosopher Theodore Adorno was exercised by this problem and insisted that there must also be a justice for the dead. 23 Annette M. Pelletier, "Fascination with the Holy--and Conversion," Review for Religious 53, no. 4 (July-August 1994): 562-563,565. Review for Religious JANET MALONE Internationality: ConsciousnessRaising and Conversion nternationality in religious congregations has a price, and .l. congregations that in recent years have called themselves inter-national are now in the various stages of conversion requisite to being purposefully international or what Catherine Harmer has called intentionally international. At this point it is important for them to keep their eyes open to internationality's richness, for the changes and conversion that are requisite to being truly interna-tional bring the difficulties--the price--very much to the fore. Ways of Coping Change can be scary, and becoming an international congre-gation has been quite difficult for many communities, to the point where certain resistances have surfaced as ways of coping with this new "crisis." In working with such congregations, I have noted various ways of coping. Some groups want to downplay the full connotation of internationality in its mission sense of supra-nationality even when in fact, with acceptance and incorporation of some different cultures and nationalities, a new congregational culture has already come into being that, in many ways, goes well beyond being the mere sum of its older and newer parts. Other congregations that have called themselves international by reason of their physical expansion into other nations now deal Janet Malone CND wrote "Coming Home: The Journey Within" for our May-June 1995 issue. Her address is 24-1002 Dufferin Avenue; Saskatoon, Saskatchewan; S7H 2C1 Canada. ~uly-August 1996 Malone ¯ Internationality with subtle and varying aspects of resistance throughout their congregations. In still other congregations, the resistance has been quite subtle, with efforts by some members to have their congregations refer to themselves, not as "international," but as "multicultural" or "intercultural" or as congregations "with an international character." Some congregations seem ready to rescind the appellation of internationality because of the cost in terms of both personal and corporate conversion. They would justify this retrograde step by emphasizing that they are not really international because they are present in only.a few other nations. On the other hand, if a congregation purposefully decides to become or to remain an international one, it most likely must go through, both personally and corporately, an actual step-by-step process of conversion. This involves consciousness raising. The Process of Consciousness Rai sing In this article I want to highlight the different stages of con-sciousness raising. Being consciously aware of these stages can help change "hearts of stone to hearts of flesh" (Ez 36:26) in the process of becoming purposefully international. In my January- February 1992 article "Internationality--At What Price?" I spoke about conversion; herein I shall elaborate on what I now see as the intermediate steps of consciousness raising in the conversion process. Sometimes the dominant culture is replaced by another group's culture with the result that the oppressed become the oppressor. When that happens, a congregation--using power in a way that creates scarcity, and marginalization--plays'the game of musical chairs. Whether the oppression is conscious or not, those with power marginalize others and continue the injustice. It is normal for there to be resistances, biases, prejudices, and stereotypes as a congregation becomes truly international, for various members are at different stages of consciousness awareness (and conversion) in their own. enculturation, acculturation, and inculturation. It has been my experience in worki.'ng with inter-national groups that resistance to change in the form of preju-dices and stereotypes comes from very sincere people who feel threatened by the unknown and wonder how the proposed changes will affect them. Like most things in life, consciousness Review for Religious raising does not happen all at once. Rather, it is a process of awareness and evaluation of hitherto unperceived injustices that preclude the changes necessary for conversion. The rhythm of consciousness raising is different for different individuals, and it holds a particular challenge for those in lead-ership roles in a congregation. These need to be somewhat com-fortable with the unknown, with taking risks. Only then can they encourage the members to take some requisite steps toward becoming comfortable with the attitudinal and structural changes that can eliminate subtle oppressions of which many members may be quite unaware. In so doing, they model equality and mutuality. Consciousness raising he.lps to bring about real change in the attitudes of individuals and in congregational structures that reflect the dominant culture. Consciousness raising gradually brings a group to an honest evaluation of the ways of being and doing in the group that, in many instances, are distinctive of the domi-nant, founding group. Such an evaluation can then lead to the necessary changes in praxis. Stages of Consciousness Raising Adapting the work of Gaylor and Fitzpatrick, I will now high-light six differeht stages of consciousness raising in congregations becoming purposefully international. Not linear, these six stages in consciousness raising tend to overlap in a helical fashion. The first stage, the "no big deal" stage, is characterized by per-plexity and sometimes denial that there is a problem, This can be experienced by both sides of the internationality challenge: those who are the majority and see no oppression whatsoever and those who--unaware of it or only minimally aware--are the receivers of such oppression. Thus, there can be outright denial of the injustice and dismissal of any claims of it or a trivializa-tion of the injustice. For example, in a mixed-language group where there is "whisper" translation, people in the majority group may interrupt a minority speaker in midsentence and demand immediate translation. On the other hand, members of the major-ity group may carry on a full conversation among themselves while translation is being provided for the minority group. Members of a majority find it difficult to see this kind of problem even when it is pointed out. The minority group may see this as ,the way things have always been and display a certain ffuly-August 1996 Malone ¯ Internationality passivity or resignation. In both instances there is no awareness or almost none in this "~no big deal" stage. If, however, a congrega-tion is really serious about its internationality, then each language group, regardless of numbers, deserves a sacred space to under-stand and be understood. At this stage, discrepancies between the majority's demands and the needs of the minority can be trivialized by the majority with such statements as "Oh, it wasn't intentional" and by the minority with "They don't mean to be rude." In both instances there is no consciousness or only a minimal awareness of injustices and oppression, subtle or otherwise. The second, "eye-opening" stage occurs when a member of either group, the majority or the minority, experiences such types of oppression with some discomfort. Itis very easy here to revert back to the "no big deal" stage, but at .this second stage both groups can see previously status-quo experiences in a new light. Consciousness is being raised; as Ecclesiastes 3 observes, the "sea-son" for it has come. Experiences that were seen as normal are now evaluated some-what differently. Still, this evaluation is fragile. If, as a member of the dominant group, I am not much impressed by this new eval-uation, then I. may become ambivalent and protective of the sta-res quo. If I am a member of the minority group, I may not speak out on an injustice for fear of being rejectedand labeled a trou-blemaker. Members of the majority may realize for the first time that they refer to a minority group from a developing nation as "cute" and "innocent," with "so much to learn." In this stage they come to a deeper insight into what they are really saying. The third, "on the fence" stage is that point where, although: individuals or groups in an international congregation now se,e unequivocally the injustices within the congregation towards cer-tain groups, they still do not have the courage to "walk their talk." They still try to curry favor with both sides. Being "on the fence," they maneuver between the two sides without taking a firm stand on the side of the oppressed. Although it is important to see both sides of any situation, still it is critical at certain times to get "off: the fence." The warn-ing of Jesus about being lukewarm resounds here. For example, in a congregation which has called itself international, a particular group lobbies to change that term to something like intercultural because it thinks, that will solve the discontent of some of the Review for Religious majority group. Without a critical analysis of the issues involved, many congregation members may stay "on the fence" and not try to explore possible resistances underneath. The fourth, "coming home" stage of consciousness raising is that point where an individual or a group in the international congregation moves to making public various convictions on issues integral to internationality. It is the point where the personal convictions expressed heretofore only in safe, private spaces are now shared in more public places within the congregation, although still in rather circumspect ways. This stage is both diffi-cult and challenging because "the medium becomes the message." For example, a per-son or a group may submit to the congre~ gational leadership a proposal for specific structural changes to enhance the congre-gation's internationality. The private has become public, but not as yet within the public forum of a chapter or assembly of the total congregation. The fifth, "passion" stage of conscious-ness raising is a .more integrated stage involving both head and heart. Persons immediately come to mind who have had a passion for certain truths: "I have a dream."; "Ask not what your country can do for you."; "Go and gather up the drops of blood . " This stage challenges individuals and groups to lace their reasoned and dispassionate discourse with some emotion, such as anger at instances of oppression and injustice. When expressed construc-tively and nonviolently, such anger can be an energy and .catalyst for change. For example, at international meetings where an impasse has been reached because of fears and resistances, a spe-cial meeting might be called to get at these fears and blocks to any change. The danger here can be that the only interventions rec-ognized in the group are those which focus solely on "defini-tions," "constitutions," and "canon law." The challenge is to get underneath the words to the energy of the emotions. Only when the stories of personal experiences around such feelings are shared is there any movement in the group toward some deeper con-scious awareness. Members of the majority may realize that they refer to a minority group from a developing nation as "cute" and "innocent," with "so much to learn." Malone ¯ Internationality Patience and waiting are also critically important in this stage; planting the seeds of change and waiting for them to blossom is what being prophetic is all about. It is the process of going from "mine" to "ours." For example, an important component of being international is to have an international communications office and journal, both of which are grassroots and decentralized so that inculturation can gradually occur from the bottom up. It may take some time for that dream to move from being "mine" to "ours" in an international group because of many different variables, some of which may be subtle efforts to hold on to the status quo. The sixth and last stage, "acceptance/appropriation/incorpora-tion," is the crux of consciousness raising. It is that season in the life of a congregation where being international is not just the decision of a chapter or decision-making body. Rather, it is the season where internationality is the lived reality in the group. Such acceptance/appropriation/incorporation leads to a sense of equality and mutuality in the congregation and is reflected in both personal and corporate attitudinal and structural changes. Personal Conversion Having surveyed the stages of consciousness raising about biases, prejudices, stereotypes, and resultant injustices and oppres-sion, we now explore their implications for conversion. Personal conversion may take many different shapes including intellectual, moral, and spiritual conversion. Although conversion, like con-sciousness raising, is not a linear process but in many ways a gift of the grace of G6d, yet this helical process has some distinct aspects. Intellectual conversion interfaces directly with the stages of consciousness raising. It is a seeing with new eyes that continuing to support or collude with oppressive structures and ways of being in one's congregation is wrong. Now morally aware of behaviors in these matters that are actually sinful, the members of the dom-inant group must become morally aware also of their passivity in not speaking out about an ol6pressive status quo. An attitudinal shift must occur that moves them to do something about the injus-tice, be that something ever so small in the large scale of things. When people perceive the general pattern of increased aware-ness and its call for moral conversion, they may notice the :pattern in groups not only where they oppress others but also where oth- Review for Religious ers oppress them. They should notice, too, that it is very easy for the oppressed to become the oppressors in other circumstances. Unless there is a conscious intent to break the cycle of oppression, ¯ it is likely to continue. Spiritual conversion calls members of a congregation to live the gospel in .a radical way, such that there can be true love, for-giveness, and reconciliation as the different ways of oppressing come to light. Such conversion is countercultural when there is reconciliation and not revenge. "Love is patient, kind, not jealous, does not seek its own interests, is not quick-tempered, and does not brood over injury. It does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with.the truth" (1 Co 13:4-6). Corporate Conversion Corporate conversion requires changes within the organiza-tional structures of the congregation so thfit the sense Of mutuality and equality will exist both in word and in the lived praxis. Catherine Harmer details the structural changes required to become intentionally international. These changes are summa-rized here: 1. Each of the different provinces/regions/cultural entities in a congregation has the necessary autonomy to make local decisions regarding ministry choices, personnel changes, formation, and finances. 2. The leadership in each province/region/area should normally be made up of the people of that country. 3. International congregational committees and task forces must include representatives from all areas. 4. General chapters must also be representative of the total congregation not bnly in attendance but also in plan-ning and staff. 5. Provision must be made to accommodate diverse lan-guage groups at such meetings. 6. The members of the central administration of the con-gregation must reflect its internationality. 7. The founding group should eventually cease to domi-nate in all aspects of the congregational life. Conclusion Some congregations, ~n their beginnings, were not founded as international groups.~ In recent years they may have called July-August 1996 Malone * Internationali~ themselves international because of their "physical" expansion to different nations. They go through birthpangs when this acci-dental internationality becomes a purposeful or intentional inter-nationality. This article has affirmed that various resistances to the new and the temptation to go back to the "good old days" are a nor~ mal part of such a new birth. This process, for both personal and corporate conversion, has been clarified by the application of Gaylor and Fitzpatrick's stages of consciousness raising to the matter of becoming a truly international congregation. References Jean Alvarez. "Prejudice in Religious Congregations." Human Development, Winter 1983. Christine C. Gaylor and Annelle Fitzpatrick. "The Stages of Consciousness Raising." Human Development, Fall 1987. Catherine Harmer. "Internationality: Intentional or Accidental." Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 111-118. Janet Malone. "Internationality--At What Price?" Review for Religious 51, no. 1 (January-February 1992): 109-117. Dorcas Surely, there was time to miss what might be missed: garments made, acts of charity attested to by friends and neighbors, the complexities of a simple style, feel of wool well-woven, the breathless moment prior to a newborn's angry cry. Then, did you hesitate at all on that gruff apostle's word before, gazelle-like (how else), you leapt from there to here? Leonar~i Cochran OP Review for Religious FINIAN McGINN Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community ~nheaot happens when a community evolves from a homoge- us ethnic group to a heterogeneous ethnic group? Do the inner structures of the group change? Do they have to change; if so, how far? How can we change structures to meet the multi-cultural needs of the members? Do we have any models of recent attempts toward multiculturalization of institutions? With more Hispanic and southeast Asian membership in U.S. religious com-munities, what are the areas of greatest tension? How do we pre-pare our members for a multicultural institution? Is there a different type of preparation for the older members than for the younger? Does the same phenomenon happen to public educational institu-tions, businesses, and large corporations? These are but a few of the issues confronting provincials in the United States as they realize that they have been writing more letters in Spanish to their members than those of the previous administration and that they see more and more Vietnamese-- survivors of the fall of Saigon in 1975--in their houses of forma-tion. What has happened to the province we entered in the 1950s? At that time most of us were German, Italian, Polish, and Irish-- predominantly Westerners of European descent. Now, in the mid 1990s, we have become pluralistic, much more ethnically diverse, and the old ways of doing things have begun to change. As ministers of the local :church, most of us have witnessed our parishes and other apostolates change demographically, but we Finian McGinn OFM serves as vicar provincial for the Santa Barbara province of the Franciscan friars. His address is 1500 34th Avenue; Oakland, California 94601. ffuly-August 1996 McGinn * Toward Multiculturalizin~ a Reli~ous Communi~ have failed to look inward at our own religious communities. We have tried to prepare the people in our areas of work by inviting experts to give inservices and workshops to inform the parish-ioners about the new reality they face and to help them understand the new refugee and immigrant neighbors in their midst. We have applied multicultural solutions to our apostolates, but we have failed to prescribe them for our own religious communities. Immigrants and Refugees in General What are the differences of today? Ethnographers tell us that the Hispanic, the southeast Asian, and the African American have different ways of looking at the family, at community life, work, interpersonal relationships, prayer; recreation, decision making, and at many other issues which are essential to religious life. Even though 'we see out communities beginning to change demo-graphically we continue to do what we have been doing for years. Superiors are becoming aware that many of the strategies that were used before are no longer effective today because of the dif-ferent cultural values held by the members. Is there agreement on a common hierarchy of values? How does a superior take into consideration the Asian notion of "sav-ing face" in his or her decision making? If the culture affirms dependence and docility, how does one teach independence, assertiveness and confrontation? If the culture emphasizes family, interpersonal relationships with persons of the same culture and close-knit ingroupings, how does it embrace a larger community of muhiethnic members? How do different cultural groups view the vows; how do they see religious obedience? How much does a province change to accommodate the new cultures? .Multiculturalizing in the United States presents a rather polit-ically sticky problem. At present the United States offers a con-text where xenophobia is quite present. Historically we have gone from the melting pot model to a nonwelcoming model and from: "Come but assimilate quickly" to "Don't come and, in fact; you're not welcome!" Today movements against immigration are strong; foreigners are looked upon as inferior, their culture deficient, their language an obstacle to the acquisition of English. The province is aware of and perhaps may even pick up these negative attitudes by contagion or osmosis. Minority candidates who lived in the society where antiimmigration propaganda is prevalent Review for Religious approach the province wondering in what manner they will be received. R. Otheguy, commenting on the melting pot notion of the United States, remarks: "Because of their experience with racism in this country, many Hispanics have long ago given up hope of disappearing"--of blending into U.S. society. Baker takes the reasoning a step further and concludes that Hispanics found in multiculturalism a way to become at least somewhat American and keep their cultural values at the same time. He states, "Because of the [Hispanic's] history of being the victim of racism, the result may be the prevention of assimilation and integration with a consequent need to embrace some form of multicultural-ism for survival, security, status, and self-enhancement." Ethnic minorities themselves speak of additive biculturalism and bilingualism (Cummins, 1989). The melting pot paradigm has stressed a subtractive aspect: "Acquire English and lose your native language! Assimilate into U.S. society and forget your own culture; it's a deficit." Ethnographers and multiculturalists, on the other hand, speak of English-plus and acculturation to the host cul-ture. "ApprEciate your own language and learn English too. Take on the good U.S. cultural values, but don't lose your own culture in the process!" Most minorities lean toward maintenance of their language and culture as they adapt them-selves to the U.S. resettlement process (Lambert & Taylor). Paulo Freire describes the approach whereby the dominant culture wit-tingly or unwittingly attempts to impose the mainstream culture on new arrivals as "cultural invasion . a form of cultural domi-nation." Hopefully today's religious community advocates the addi-tive approach. As in many of these issues, however, it is much easier to speak about it than to do it. How do different cultural groups view the vows; how do they see religious obedience? How much does a province change to accommodate. the new cultures ? A Pluralistic Religious Community in Missionary Lands After some years in a missionary area, the superior general of a congregation in Rome insists that groups of a congregation 3~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community from different nations in a foreign missionary country form one province. Each small group initially came to the mission country and received a portion of the mission territory within which to work. Members of the same ethnic group struggled with the lan-guage together, worked together, prayed together, evangelized the territory together, and accepted and formed native vocations. After some years this group and others in the missionary nation are asked to begin to form one entity together with the native religious of the area. This is an extremely difficult process and almost always poses a threat to both the foreigners and the native-born religious. The foreigners are no longer the majority in the group. They brought the faith, founded the missions, trained and even baptized and formed the native religious. In fact, they are still held in awe by the native religious members of the congregation. The foreigners are older and have been trained in a different the-ology of mission. The native religious, members of the host cul-ture, know the nation and its culture much better ,than do the foreigners. They have definite ideas on what should be done in their own country but are afraid to offend the foreigners who have given them the faith in the first place. This leads to a cultural impasse. To form the one entity from many disparate groups and to agree upon a common set of values is fraught with tension. In the United States In religious communities of the United States, however, usu-ally the majority membership of the institution is of white west-ern European stock; they are members of the host culture who have been living religious life for some time and have reached a consensus or implicit agreement upon certain common values of the institution. The tension arises as other multiethnic members become a sizeable minority, become visible, and begin to make their voices heard within the membership. How do the new mem-bers fit in? How does the larger group make room for them? What interior and exterior changes must take place to allow this to happen? How Other Institutions Meet the Challenge Businesses are learning new strategies to capitalize on inter-national markets and to improve communication with foreign Review for Religious nationals. Many public school districts, impacted by the influx of immigrants and refugees, offer classes, inservices and workshops on understanding cultural differences to relate with parents and members of the minority community and to enhance crosscul-tural communication. Business and education are presently publishing ma6~y books and articles dealing with multicultural differences and ways of adapting to and understanding people of other cultures. We, as religious, have not yet tapped these sources for our own com-munities. Business Since the Peace Corps in the early 1960s, many types of cross-cultural training programs have been designed to prepare indi-viduals for life in another culture. The goal of such programs is to help the business organization reduce and' prevent business losses and personal trauma. Harris and Moran. describe at least four models of training in cross-cultural orientation programs, ranging from lectures and readings about the culturel through simulation activities and sen-sitivity training to a cultural awareness model which seeks to develop one's ability to recognize ~cultural influence~ in personal values, behaviors, and cognitions. The goals of any training in cultural awareness are the following: a)to develop one's skill in diagnosing .difficulties in intercultural communication, b) to teach one when to suspend judgment when confronted with behavior which appears odd, c) to help one become aware of one's lack of sufficient knowledge of the other culture, and d) to increase one's motivation to learn more about the culture and the people. Public School Districts Public schools train cultural staff persons in cross cultural com-munication and hire. experts of the target 'cultural groups to present orientation and inservice to administrators and both certificated and classified personnel. These inservices and workshops are offered to both new and veteran teachers and staff. The host culture is compared to the immigrant or refugee culture. Culture brokers and the cultural specialists explain the areas of possible tension and/or misunderstanding; differing'values are examined, discussedL, 3-7-7- .~dy-Aug~tst 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community and understood. The goal of the process is twofold. It seeks to offer awareness and understanding of the newly arrived ethnic group and to examine the behavior of the teachers, administrators, and staff toward this group. James A. Banks distinguishes between two types of curricula in the schools: the manifest curriculum and the hidden curriculum. It is the hidden curriculum which is more cogent and which impo.ses the implicit norms and values of the school. Hopefully, the process of cultural awareness will shed some light on the hidden values and norms of the institution. Steps Religious Groups Are Taking By far one of the most multicultural communities in the United States and elsewhere is the international community of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary. From its very foundation it has been international and universal in scope. It has no set policy governing ethnicity in the local house, yet from the beginning of the institute, its communities have been from different countries, ethnic groups, and cultures. Members of the institute have con-sistendy affirmed the intention that wherever possible, their com-munities be international in membership. Although they do not have formal courses in international living, the administration does try to provide the members with experiences locally, provincially, and at the general level that will expose them to the reality of living in a multicultural commu-nity. In recent years, two continuing formation programs have helped the members deepen this expression of international, mul-ticultural living in community: They also have regional meetings and meetings of administrators. "All of these gatherings, while addressing specific questions, give the opportunity for the sisters to get to know one another and to build up understanding and relationships. [The gatherings] deepen the sense of our being from many different places and our unity in diversity" (MOtte). It should be noted that in the gatherings the sisters use three linguae francae--French, Spanish, and English as official languages dur-ing the meetings. Maryknoll , Maryknoll has developed its Cross-Cultural Training Services for those who wish to discern theircall and prepare for cross- Review for Religious cultural ministry. A team of experts directs a month-long, inten-sive preparation, including a week retreat, for those planning to work abroad. The topics discussed during the training include culture and society, adjustment to a new culture, strategies for surviving culture and language shock, spirituality, inculturation, and discernment. As always, Maryknoll continues to offer a realistic prepara-tion to both religious and lay persons who find themselves called to a global ministry. Much of the content studied in the training sessions is vital and, with a little adaptation, can easily be used in workshops for religious institutions in the United States which are in the process of becoming multiethnic. Content of a Multicultural Awareness Program Should any province wish to set up a program to make itself more multicultural there shoul~t be certain key components of the content area. The actual training program could range from lectures, workshops to an institute, or any combination of the three. The speakers at the events should be experts in various areas of ethnic studies, preferably not members of the partici-pating religious group. In the world of language-minority students, J. Cummins speaks of certain "dimensions" necessary for the empowerment of minorities. The dimensions mentioned in Cummins's paradigm for empowerment touch the very center of multicultural living. They can easily be adapted from an educational institution to a reli-gious community. Cummins stresses four essential dimensions: language, collaboration, reciprocity, and advocacy. A. Language. The language issue is important. Theoreticians speak of language shock as. they describe, the early years of a person's resettlement in the United States. Bilingualists stress :the incor-poration of one's home language into the life of the school and its curriculum. The inclusion of the minority language and culture into the school has significant effects on the personality, attitudes, and the social and emotional well being of the students and their parents. The language issue in a religious community is also of impor-tance. The minority candidate must feel at ease in the language of the .host country. At times, both community and ministry err by failing to allow sufficient time f6r the acquisition of higher cog- 3~dy-.4ug~t 1996 McGinn * Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community The emotional drain of trying to live in a society that speaks one's second language is stressful for the minority religious. nitive and academic vocabulary to emerge in second-language acquisition, and, satisfied with the conversational idiom which we hear daily, tell the newly arrived religious, "There's a great need in the ministry for a Spanish-speaking religious. You know enough English now, get to work in a barrio parish. Fulfill our need in the Spanish-speaking ministry!" (The language learner, too, may become impatient with the slowness of the acquisition process and, in his or her impatience, opt to begin ministry sooner than he or she should.) This may be a great boon for the ministry of the province, but not for com-munity life. We have deprived the candi-date and the religious community of the depth and the wisdom which both can bring to community living. In this area it seems much better to err on the side of more English. rather than less. The'emotional drain of trying to live in a society that speaks one's second lan-guage is stressful for the minority religious. No matter how proficient one is in L2, there are times when learners simply shut down. Teachers, those who have studied abroad, and linguists describe the state of one who has paid attention all day to academic discourse in the weaker language and in the evening simply blanks out and is unable to comprehend even the simplest of phrases in L2. Larson and Smalley describe language shock as a component of culture shock that has profound effects on one who is trying to acquire the lan-guage of the host society. Rese~irchers point out that the disori-entation caused by language shock can induce a whole syndrome of rejection. The newly arrived must cope with the new stress and therefore must divert attention and energy from learning the second language. The learner begins to reject speakers of the tar-get language. These speakers become the source of his or her dis-orientation and, therefore, he or she has difficulty forming identifications necessary to learn the language of the host coun-try. The problem becomes even more complex if the learner per-ceives, erroneously or otherwise, that the speakers of the target language reject the learner and his or her culture .and language. Language has many paradoxical uses. Instead of opening doors, it can close them. It can,; at times, be used as a wall, or a Revlew for Religious defense to unite a group or to keep others out. Knowingly or unknowningly, fluently bilingual speakers will use the language which other members of the community do not understand to keep them out of the circle or to provide a feeling of belonging for themselves. Unless one knows the linguistic code--he or she can-not enter the inner circle. Opportunities to study the languages of the members of the community should also be offered and even encouraged for the majority members of the religious congregation. Bialystok and Hakuta treat the types of motivation in second-language learning and come to the conclusion that few of us learn a second lan-guage as an end in itself. Most of us learn it "to gain access, through verbal interaction, to cultural dealings with people who lay claim to that language." As most of us can read a language better than we can speak it, community liturgies and prayer of the hours could be said on alternate days in either language if the members of the local com-munity were in the process of~becoming bilingual. Fine language courses with new, nonthreatening and nonbelittling methodol-ogy are offered in practically every large city of the country. Corollary 1. Spending the time and energy in the attempt to learn a language used by a large number of the religious congregation (that of the host country and that of the minority cultures) is a good investment by the province in community life. B. Collaboration. Cummins claims that where the culture of the family is not given status in the school and communities and parents are kept powerless, then inferiority and lack of school progress may result. When there is parental collaboration with the teacher there is usually success. Religious communities at times tend to take the culture of origin of the member for granted and in no way envision it as a factor in the religious formation of the individual. We tend to think that their mother and dad are like our mother and dad and that their home is like our home. With the advent of people from many diverse areas of the world, the assumption no longer works if it ever did. The following is an example from education of this type of reasoning. A successful middle-school teacher recently remarked: "I just assumed that their home was like my home and for two years in middle school I demanded at least thirty minutes of written homework. Then I visited one of the homes. It was a revelation. ~dy-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community The.home and local community of the culturally different are areas that the religious province cannot afford to ignore. In a two-bedroom apartment three families were living (around 16 individuals). There was no quiet space, very lit.de furniture, and little ones were scurrying all around. If any homework could be done, it would be done at the kitchen-table, the only table in the home. This would be done while the five elders were watching television at the same time in the same room. I began to realize that doing homework in'a home such as that one was notan easy task. The example was not characteristic of only one family but of the vast majority of families of Hmong students at that school." Awareness of the culture and the val-ues of the minority religious is essential. Conchita Delgado-Gaitan has many stud-ies that analyze learning experiences in the home and parental strategies used to impart knowledge and values to the chil-dren. She compared the home strategies with those used by the school of the dom-inant culture to discover convergence or dissonance. She studied the linkage between the culture of the home and that of the school. The home and local community of the culturally different are areas that the religious province cannot afford to ignore. Culture shock, discussed in most cultural orientation work-shops, is not as easily remedied as one might think. This psychic ~hock is the anxiety which results from the disorientation encoun-tered upon entering a new culture. Larson and Smalley describe how essential characteristics of good mental health are often lost just by moving into a new culture. Extreme symptoms of culture shock may pass relatively quickly as ways of coping with the new environment are acquired. More subtle problems, however, may persist and produce stress which can last for years. Paul Pedersen, in his recent book, A Handbook for Developing Multicultural Awareness, confirms that culture shock is likely to last over the visitor's entire stay in an unfamiliar culture, reappear in a variety of forms, and not be limited to an initial adjustment. Spindler and Spindler, of Stanford University, have been train-ing people in ethnographic evaluation of educational environ, ments for many years. Cultural therapy, the term the ,Spindlers use to describe a procedure of reflective, cross-cultural analysis of Review for Religious individuals of different cultures through personal encounters, has become quite famous. The aim of the therapy is to promote cross cultural and intracultural behavioral understanding. The process involves open dialogue between people of different cultures (teacher and student or a member of the host culture and one of the cultural minority). It seeks to reveal to the educator and to the minority student unconscious biases and cultural ethnocentrism. Trueba shows how culture shock experienced by the culturally diverse can have an effect on the members of the host culture, and he observes: "Therefore, it is extremely important for teach-ers to realize that they are experiencing cultural shock when they try to function effectively with children who do not share their values and expectations. Academic success requires, then, that both teachers and students build learning environments in which success is possible for both." How can we make the local reli-gious communities places which assure success and fairness for all members of whatever culture? With each of the four dimensions paternalism on the part of the member of the host culture is a temptation, Among members of the religious institute, the environment should be one of equal-ity. A paternalistic attitude in this process would promote a depen-dency which would impede empowerment and fail to promote success. On the other hand, members of the religious commu-nity who have lived in other countries and those who have strug-gled to acquire another language--of host country or of the language minority--are equipped to act as culture brokers and even cultural therapists in helping to make the new culture more familiar and less strange and in creating an atmosphere which insures fairness and success. Corollary 2. Awareness of the new cultures in the religious community should be encouraged. Study of one's own culture and that of other members of the community should be pro-moted. Appreciation of the ethnic diversity of the community by listening and telling stories without ethnocentric bias and judgment will hopefully develop respect for the legitimate cultural differences of the religious community. C. Reciprocity. Cummi~as's third dimension stresses the fact that the language minority student must not simply receive the new knowledge passively but there should be a reciprocal inter-action, a dialogue in which the minority students bring their rich-ness to the process. 3n~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multicultu~alizing a Religious Community In a religious community this type of sharing appears to be difficult to attain. It demands that those who have lived in the host country all their lives and have been in the religious com-munity for many more years must begin to listen to the new ones and look at the goals and mission of the congregation from their perspective. It requires a change of attitude. In a nonjudgmental manner, one can begin to act as an ethnographer and discover new realities and appreciate the vibrant faith and the beauty in approaches to the sacred which have not been part of one's own history. To do this one must allow a forum for the culturally dif-ferent and listen to them with respect. They become the teachers. Bilingual members and members who have lived in mission lands are an asset to the religious community. Religious of diverse cultures are at different levels of acculturation, and the bilingual and former missionary members of the community are equipped to act as bridge makers in opening the dialogue between the older religious of the host country and those who are culturally diverse. Corollary 3. Reciprocity is a step toward healing the rem-nants of cultural shock. "I struggle to understand and appre-ciate the minority religious' culture, language, approach to the divine, family, and community, and the newly arrived struggle to appreciate my culture, language, approach to the divine, family, and community." ~Many demands are involved in the process, but the struggle leads to mutual respect and understanding. D. Advocacy. In a school setting, Cummins insists that the majority teachers become advocates for the language minority children. Many of the instruments used in the evaluation of minor-ity students are based and standardized on the language of the majority population, and it is often easy to detect types of insti-tutionalized racism in the school and even in the hidden curric-ula. Therefore, the minority student needs someone who is able to open doors, give advice, and accompany him or her in situations which involve power and status relationships between dominant and dominated groups at different levels of a society. When we apply this to a religious community, we can begin to consider the customs of the congregation and its particular provincial statutes to discover cultural differences which could render harmonious living difficult. Advocacy involves seeing that house libraries have sufficient current books and periodicals in the mother tongue and insisting upon minority representation at Review for Religious various levels of formation and administration even to the actual selection of superiors who are open, tolerant and appreciative of other cultures represented in the community. Benjamin Schwarz states: "Dissatisfied minorities want, at a minimum, a real voice in determining their future--but a real voice for the minority means real sacrifice for the majority." Corollary. 4. Those who enjoy acceptance in the dominant society and who are comfortable with the everyday life in the religious community spontaneously offer direction and knowledgeable advocacy. They also help to provide a voice for the ethnic minority members of the community. Toward Multiculturalization Developing multicultural awareness in a community requires many changes. Pedersen concludes his work for cross-cultural counselors by stating that the many changes involved "will pro-duce a widening ripple effect as these changes bring about other changes." He continues: "We are moving toward a future that requires us to understand persons who are different from our-selves, whatever our culture might be. Developing multicultural awareness is the strategy for our survival as well as our growth in meeting the diverse needs of a multicultural global village." In a recent letter to all the friars, Herman Schaluck the gen-eral of the Order of Friars Minor, told his brothers that the new projects which the order has embarked upon in Africa, Thailand, and the former Soviet Union were intentionally international and multicultural in makeup to sign a new way of thinking. In spite of the difficulties inherent in the understanding of an international, multicultural fraternity, the order seeks this new quality of liv-ing together. The general explains: "Paul insistently states (Ga 6) that it is not a matter of being Jews or pagans, of being cir-cumcised or uncircumcised, but of being a 'new creature.' Life in an international [multicultural] fraternity is therefore not some-thing of secondary importance or a question of strategic maneu-vering: it is rather already evangelization itself by way of example." An Apostolic Challenge We considered a number of apparently hypothetical ques-tions about a religious community evolving from a homogeneous to a heterogeneous grouping. What happens? What changes ~uly-August 1996 McGinn ¯ Toward Multiculturalizing a Religious Community occur? Can it be done? Suppose we did design workshops and planning sessions on cross-cultural awareness for the total com-munity from the insights offered by education, business, and the training programs~for foreign missionaries. Suppose, to.o, we set up processes within the provincial structures for dialogue, reciprocity, and advocacy. Would the program be successful? Certainly many changes would occur, and change is almost always tension-filled and difficult to accept. However, it would be quite exciting to embark upon such a journey. It would demand much tolerance, patience, and charity on the part of the total member-ship to ensure that the program would succeed. What a sign of forgiveness, openness, trust, and conversion such a religious com-munity could offer the world around it. The approach would cer-tainly be countercultural. Only the members themselves know whether they are willing to do this. Perhaps a religious community is the only institution which can meet this challenge. I have spent many years trying to con-vince public schools, public school districts, and even welfare departments to become more multicultural but to no avail. Conversion, forgiveness, sacrifice, patience, understanding, and charity are woven into the very fabric of religious life. These are the same virtues required to make an institution multicultural. We religious are called to be a sign. Perhaps we Can be a sign to U.S. society that actually e pluribus unum is realizable. Bibliography Baker, C. Foundations of Bilingt~.al Education and Bilingualism. Clevedon: Multilingual Matters, 1993. Banks, J.A., and McGee Banks, C.A., eds. Multicultural Education. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1989. Bialystok, E., and Hakuta, K. In Other Words. New York: Basic Books, 1994. Cummins, J. Empowering Minority Students. Sacramento: CABE, 1989. Delgado-Gaitan, C. "Traditions and Transitions in the Learning Process of Mexican Children: A Ethnographic View." In Spindler, G. and L. (eds.) Interpretive Ethnography of Education: At Home and Abroad. Hillsdale: Laurence Erlbaum, 1987a. Delgado-Gaitan, C. "Parent Perceptions of School: Supportive Environments for Children." In Trueba, H. (ed.) Success or Failure? Learning and the Language Minority Student. Cambridge: Harper and Row, 1987b. Review for Religious Delgado-Gaitan, C~, and' Trueba, H. Crossing Cultural Borders: Education for Immigrant Families in America. New York: Falmer, 1991. Freire, P. Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Seabury, 1970. Freire, P. The Politics of Education. Boston: Bergin and Garvey, 1985. Hanley, K., csj. Cross Cultural Training Services. Maryknoll, New York, Harr.is, ER., and Moran, R.T. Managing Cultural Differences. Houston: Gulf Publishing, 1991. Lambert, W.E., and Taylor, D.M. Coping with Cultural and Racial Diversi~y in Urban America. New York: Praeger, 1990. Larson, D.N., and Smalley,'W.A. Becoming Bilinguak A Guide to Learning Language. California: William Carey Library, 1972. Law, E.H.E The VVolf Shall Dwell with the Lamb. St. Louis: Chalice Press, 1993. Motte, personal correspondence, 1995. Otheguy, R. "Thinking about Bilingual Education: A Critical Appraisal." Harvard Educatiorial Review 52 (3), 1982. Pedersen, P. A Handbook for Developing Multicultural Awareness: Alexandria: A~. erican CounselingAssociation, 1994. Schaluck, H., OFM. "On the Way Towards a New Era," May 8. Prot. 083!.19. S'chwarz, B. "The Diversity Myth: America's Leading Export." The Atlantic Monthly 275 (5), 1985. Spindler, G., and Spindler, L., eds. Pathways to Cultural Awareness. Thousand Oaks: Sage, 1994. Trueba, H.T., Jacobs, L., and Kirton, E. Cultural Conflict and Adaptation: The Case of Hmong Children in American Society. New York: Falmer, 1990. JUST PUBLISHED-- The Best of the Review - 5 The Church and 'Consecrated Life (see insert at back of book for ordering) "At a time when hope for religious life and its future is once again on the rise, the articles in this book offer an exceptional and much needed panorama of the critical issues of renewal faced by contemporary men and women religious. Elizabeth McDonough and David Fleming have done us an enormous favor in bringing together the Best of the Review in this area. I recommend this book enthusiastically; its authors take us another step along the journey to that future for religious life for which we all long." --Se~nSammon FMS Vicar General Marist Brothers, Rome 3~uly-August 1996 new life ROBERT E MALONEY It's Summer! A Letter to Young Religious J My dear brothers and sisters, It is wonderful to be young. At least, most of us who have grown older think so! Young adulthood is the summer of life; autumn and winter follow only later. In the vibrant years of youth, heart, respiration, and physical strength are at their peak efficiency. Our inner drives, too, are fully alive: our quest for meaning, our longing for deeper rela-tionships, our yearning to create a better future. I am writ-ing today to encourage you who are young to enjoy, and use well, the gifts of this summertimh in your life. Youth has many striking advantages. As the superior general of a community, I often see these in the lives of young religious, both men and women. Let me describe some of them briefly. First, youth has drive and enthusiasm. It is good to rejoice in youth's vigor. I can remember a period in my life when I could interview ~tudents all day long, prepar.e classes until late at night, be up again at five the next morning for prayer and the Eucharist, and then teach a full schedule. The day arrived when I could no longer do that. But I still look back with happy memories on the vibrant energies of youth. Young people can give with zest. And they want to give their lives to something'worth-while. They seek a cause, and when they find one they Robert P. Maloney CM serves as superior general of the Vincentians. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Revie~ for Religious ? launch into it with enthusiasm. ,Their dreams, their~hopes, their vision of the future have not yet been dimmed by bitter experi-ences, or failures, or the harsh fact' that much of reality changes quite slowly. Young people gaze at the world's needs and believe that they can make a contribution. Second, youth has imagination and spontaneity. Young people bring new horizons to communities~ They have the capacity to envision new solutions, They often feel free from rigid categories or structures that have become creaky or clumsily reinforced over the years. They find it easy to identify with the words of Vincent' de Paul that "love is inventive even to infinity.''1 They are willing to "dream the impossible dream." Spontaneity is one of the refreshing aspects of youth. Young people say unexpected things. They question practices that some of us older people never had any doubts about. At times we may find that. their questions make us uncomfortable or defensive. But we should by no means be quick to interpret youth's spontaneity as a sign of aggres-siveness; rather, it often comes from a genuine desire to seek the truth. Third, youth is able to change. Those of us who are older have ploughed deep furrows. It becomes increasingly harder for us to climb out of the ruts we have dug. The furrows of the young are shal-lower. They can be ploughed over. Their direction can be changed so that new waters run through them and new life sprouts up. That is why good initial formation is important for the young. They are pliable enough to ~hink new thoughts, learn new.ways, and create new things. Of course, youth has its struggles too, its gnawing problems. Let me dwell just for a moment on a few of these. Because youth is searching, it is often uncertain about its goals or even its values. Experience tells us that, today especially, young people have diffi-culty making a permanent commitment. There is so much rapid change in society, there is so much disillusionment with those whose values the young may once have prized, that they find it hard to decide where to sink their roots. This means that young people are often confused. They are grappling with the meaning of their live~i They are hesitant about making a definitive commitment. Experience tells us that, today especially, young people have difficulty making a permanent commitment. ff~uly-August 1996 Malone~ * It's Summer? One of the greatest challenges in ministry today is to present attractive, even risky, alternatives to young people and accom-pany them in the difficult task of deciding, Several recent studies point out that young'people seek explicit religious goals, intense community life and solidarity, and explicit and worldwide service to the most needy. Young people can certainly find these goals realized in the call to follow Christ faithfully and to give them-selves to the church's preferential option for the poor. Young people often struggle with thei~ sexuality. Of course, those of us who are older are engaged in the same~struggle too. But the young experience in an~ awakening way strong physical drive; sex-ual energy, a desire for close, intimate relationships. And, unfor-tunately, the turbulent years of adolescence often do not come to a calm, peaceful resolution, but rather to a negotiated truce, after which war may soon break out again. It is~helpful for those of us who live in community to recognize that this is a basic human story, not just ours. It is also important for the young to speak about their sexual struggles with great simplicity with a wise spiritual guide. Youth lacks experience. This is an inevitable fact. All of us expe~ rience life's joys and its sorrows only gradually. Growth takes time. Yet there is a deep knowledge and love that come only from experience. There is gold that can be refined only in the fire. Of Course, not everyone who experiences life's joys and .suf-ferings grows, But, on the other hand, no one grows without a healthy dose of realistic experience. Our ongoing formation pro-grams must. help young people reflect on their experience and grow from it. Having said all this, let me acknowledge that I have painted with broad strokes. Some of the gifts that I have described as characterizing young people are often found in good measure in those who are older too. Likewise, some of the problems that have briefly touched on above plague not just the young, buvalso their elders. Today let me lay before you, young religious, a series of chal-lenges. As .the superior general of an apostolic community, I find that these are the most important things in my heart as I think of the many young men and women who long to live religious life generously today. I call them challenges because my own per-sonal experience, with its frequent failures, tells me they are not easy to respond to deeply. Review for Religious Be deeply rooted in the person of Jesus. This seems obvious, but there is nothing more important that as an older brother I could say to you. "Remember," St. Vincent de Paul once wrote, "that we live in Jesus Christ by the death of Jesus Christ and that we ought to die in Jesus Christ by the life of Jesus Christ and that our life ought to be hidden in Jesus Christ and full of Jesus Christ and that in order to die like Jesus Christ it is necessary to live like Jesus Christ.''2 The Gospels ring with this conviction: Jesus is the absolute center. "I am the way, the truth, and the life," Jesus says. "No one comes to the Father except through me." "I am the vine." "I am the gate." "I am the shepherd." "I am the light." "I am the true bread come down from heaven. The one who feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood will live forever.''3 Let me simply recall to you today the wonderful prayer attributed to St. Patrick: Chri]t be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me. Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in c~'uiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger. I recommend two principal means for focusing on the per-son of Jesus, The first is daily meditative prayer. Make Christ the center of that prayer, especially the crucified Lord. Engage in a well-defined period of reflective prayer each day (for example, a half hour), and let the Lord capture your mind and your heart. The second means--and it is not completely distinct from the .first--is to find, love, and serve Christ in the person of the poor. They are our lords and masters. Jesus li~es on in them in a special way, particularly in the crucified peoples. It is so easy for the "world," and for us too, to become numb to their plight: the 5.7 million people of Haiti, who have been so poor for so long that their pain is no longer news; the 2.5 million Bosnian refugees, victims of "ethnic cleansing"i the 1.5 million Somalians on the edge of death by starvation; the countless Rwandans who have been brutally slain. Our contemplation of the crucified Lord can-not remain merely a pious exercise, nor can it be simply medita-tion on a past event. The Lord lives on in his members. He is .~uly-Auffust 1996 Maloney ¯ It's Summer? crucified in individual persons and in suffering peoples. The call is to see him and to serve him there. "When I was hungry you gave me to eat. When Iwas thirsty you gave me to drink.When I was naked you clothed me" (Mt 25:35-36). Learn from. the poor, and be inventive in serving them. I say this to you very directly: it is only the simple and hum~ ble who really grow in the Lord's life. Only0 they can learn the depths of God's wisdom. The saints knew this very well because they had made the gospel teachings their own. That is why the founders of communities urge. all their members to grow in sim-plicity and humility. Learn especially from the poor. They can teach all of us about gratitude for small gifts, about patience in waiting, about hoping against hope, about loving those around us, even in the midst of suffering and oppression, and about shar-ing the little that we have with our brothers and sisters. It is only when we have learned from the poor that we can be inventive in serving them. It is they who will explain to us their deepest needs, and then we can bring them gifts that will really be helpful. Your creativity and imaginativeness as young people will be nourished by what you can learn from them. They will be a life-giving source in your ongoing formation. I encou

Issue 44.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1985. ; Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" The Community Prayer of Religious Lay Associate Programs Volume 44 Number 2 ° March/April, 1985 R Evmw ~:OR R r:LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. R~:vl~:w FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EV~EW FOR R ELtG~OUS. Composed, printed and manufffctured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Editor Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Associate Editor Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. " Review Editor Richard A. Hill, S.J. Contributing Editor Jean Read Assistant Editor March/April, 1985 Volume 44 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REvl~:w voR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. " Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R EVlEW FOR R ELIG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 lAndeR Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Transformations in Religious Commitment .Patricia Wittberg, S. C. Sister Wittberg teaches sociology at The College of Woosier; Wooster, OH 44691. Her previous article in these pages was "Sociology and Religious Life: Call for a New Integration" (Novem-ber/ December, 1983). It has long been obvious that the post-Vatican II period of experimentation and renewal has been marked by .a precipitous decline in the numbers of religious men and women--reflected both in fewer entrants and in a massive exodus of current members. Some observers have attributed this to the perni-cious effects of the reforms themselves,t others to the failure 6f congregations to enact even more reforms, or to enact them more quickly.2 Which of these assessments is more accurate has recently resurfaced as a point of debate, for the shrinkage of communities and their increasing median age were specifically Cited by Pope John Paul II as reasons for the current study of American religious. In this article I hope to explore the role of group commitment mechanisms in the retention or loss of members in religious orders. Two concepts which will be useful in this endeavor are "intentional com-munity" and "association." An intentional community may be defined as a group of persons living together on a more or less permanent basis, who voluntarily surrender control Over some choices which are normally considered private (the focus and means of sexual expressio.n, choice and schedialing of. work, property ownership;and so forth) for the sake of establishing a whole new way of life. Intentional communities call for more commitment than do. other groups, demanding the investment of one's self as well as one's resources of time, money and talents. This investment, ideally, is not shared with other competing organizations, but belongs to the intentional community alone. In contrast, an association is a group of persons who have invested a certain 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 amount of their resources in the attainment of some common goal or Objec-tive, but who retain more personal autonomy and competing loyalties than would be possible in an intentional community.3 It is the contention of this article that some religious cong~regations--or at least a portion of their members--are moving from an intentional community model of group commitment to an associational one. This transition involves a fundamental change in the character of those religious orders that attempt it, and an examination of what this transformation entails is, therefore, essential. As an aid in our research, we might apply several very good sociological investigations of intentional communities such as the nineteenth-century Shakers and the Oneida Community, or the Bruderhof, a twentieth-century Hutterite group in New York.4 Which of these groups made similar transitions from intentional communities to associations? What happened to them after-ward? How did other intentional communities retain their original commitment structure, and what were the consequences of this retention? The Role of Common Ideology In her study of nine successful nineteenth-century communes (i.e. those that had lasted longer than one generation), Rosabeth Moss Kanter listed the problems that an intentional community must resolve in° order to survive. Steps have to be 'taken to insure that the work necessary for economic self-suf-ficiency (gr.owing food, making craft items for sale, and so forth) is done, that decisions are made to everyones' satisfaction, that close,.f~lfilling and non-ex-clusive relationships are established among members, that new members are recruited and socialized, and that individual uniqueness and autonomy are expressed in a way not destructive to the unity of the group. The self-renuncia-tion involved in these tasks raises the possibility that some individuals will be tempted to withdraw from the community if its demands get to be "too much." To avoid this danger, the members must be encouraged to share a common ideology or world myth that would make them want to subordinate their personal interests to those of the community as a whole.S Once internalized, the group's cosmic myth infuses all of a member's actions with meaning and directs them toward the common goals: I feel that if I have overcome my tendency to return an angry word when a Brother has spokento me, I have resisted the evil spirit. 1 have struck a blow for winning back part of the universe for God Almighty.6 In general, those who study intentional communities agree that groups which are able to maintain their common world view will survive, while those which fail to do so will disappear. The profusion of competing ideologies in twentieth-century America makes this especially difficu!t. As long as the .origi-nal founder of the group is ~alive, his or her charismatic presence, may be enough to maintain the cosmic myth. Howex~er, the founder may lose this charisma over the course of the years, or may die. Intentional communities that are successful in weathering the crisis of their founder's death or fall from Transformations in Religious Commitment / 163 grace are those which have evolved additional, supplementary techniques to foster their sustaining ideology. These usuall~ include common ritual and traditions, common work and recreational activities, boundary maintenance, self-renunciation and sacrifice. Common Ritual and Traditions Sociologists since Durkheim have recognized the importance of ritual celebrations in uniting a social group. As Kant'er expressed it: These rituals both express and reinforce jointly-held values, and represent ways ~f coming together as a group, of feeling closer to One another. For this reason, group rituals are often the most significant and important aspect of community life to members, for it is here that the higher, transcendent meaning of living in utopia is affirmed .7 Successful intentional communities evolved a set of rituals around almost every event: All important occasions in the Bruderhof are marked by a love meal .The dining room tables are arranged in a horseshoe, spread with white tablecloths and specially decorated; the dining room is lit by candles . Everyone gathers outside before the meal. TheY sing songs and walk into the room together.8 Pentecost. is especially important . A huge fire is lit which is the symbol of the burning up of the old and the hope of the coming of the new? These rituals ma~ enact the central aspects of the communal ideology, or they may have more seemingly trivial meanings. The important thing is that, by the regular and frequent group performance of the ritual, the underlying ideology which gives meaning to, the entirety of group life is reaffirmed. Togetherness in Work and Play It is also necessary that the members of an intentional community become emotionally attached to each other as though they were members of one family. Indeed, as Kanter remarks, family terminology such as "Brother" or "Sister" is Often deliberately used to refer to one's fellow group members,t° The development of this familial attachment is facilitated in many groups by requiring that everyone work together at the same limited number of tasks, rather than allowing members to leave daily for eight hours or' more of work outside the community. Common recreational activities also strengthen group family bonds: Perhaps the most memorable thing about the Bruderhof is the singing . There is a song for every mood, every event, every occasion. There are winter songs~ summer songs, morning songs, evening songs, folk songs, love sofi,,gs, birthday songs and wan-dering songs . The singing itself is beautiful and mowng, with effortless three- or four-part harmony on every song.t~ Eating the main meal, or all the meals, ~ogether can also serve a unifying purpose. As would be the case with any family, the more frequent and all-encom-passing the contact among group members, the more intense their mutual 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 attachment is likely to be. Intentional communities that are scattered over several locations must get together very often in order to keep their union alive, Zablocki remarks that the three American Bruderhofs both visited and inter-changed residents frequently, and also ran up large telephone bills in calls from one hof to another. A reverse side to this emphasis on family style unity ~equires that steps be taken to root out particularistic attachments which might otherwise lead to division within the group. Historically, monogamous marriage has been a barrier to the full unity of an intentional community, for it establishes compet-ing loyalties in the members. As both Kanter and Coser point out, intentional communities have usually encouraged either celibacy or promiscuity as alter-natives.~ 2 Another frequently used tactic is to discourage "too-close" friendships that shut out the rest of the members. Boundary Maintenance In addition to building up feelings ,of mutual attachment among members and ritualizing the group's unifying myth, care must also be taken to'isolate the community from those aspects of American society which embody competing ideas, attachments and values. Limitations are accordingly established on con-tacts with butsiders (including, especially, non-group parents and siblings of members). In the Bruderhof, most members rarely left the community, and even television watching was done infrequently:" ~ Great care is taken to see to it that the children never h.ear visitors, delivery men or other outsiders say a dirty word. Play with neighborhood children is discouraged. The adult members seldom retain membership in any outside organization, and at one time even their mail was censored and their newspapers and magazines were checked for objec-tionable material which was clipped out,t3 A sense of we/they is deliberately fostered, and the community is Often tbld that it represents a higher, purer way of life which must not be polluted by contact with the uninitiated. ~ An effective way of reinforcing the distinction between in-gro~]p and out-gi'oup is the wearing of distinctive clothes by community members?4 Still another is their development of a distinctive vocabulary to refer to particular activities or at'titudes?5 Finally, it is a good idea if the intentional community can become as "'institutionally complete'~ as possible, so that it depends very little on the outside world for goods and services. This is especially true in the area of education. Many intentional communities attempt to educate the children of their members in separate schools, in order to keep them from any polluting contact with the dutside world: Adult members who desire to add to their education may be forbidden to do so, or limited as to the institutions they are permitted to attend. The Death and Rebirth of the Self A powerful technique for internalizing the world view of an. intentional community is to die to one's old identity and to be "reborn" into anidentity Transformations in Religious Commitment conferred by the group. The Bruderhof novice is. isolated from his past and from his distinctive roles in the out-side world. A woman with psychological training was criticized every time she discussed Something in psychological terms: She was told that this was going to be a major barrier for her to overcome. She was also not allowed to have very much contact with a Sister who had gone to graduate school with her. A woman with an exceptionally beautiful voice was in the habit of bursting into song while sitting alone out of doors or at work. The community made her stop this in order to chastize her ego . Weakening the identity is furthered by the deprivation of choice . The commu-nity decides for [the member] what work he shall do. He has, at least after taking the novitiate, no money of his own. He must ask even for simple necessities like toothpa, ste =. or shampoo.!6 This loss of identity begins ~vith the new member's assumption of his/her guilt and individual worthlessness, often helped along by required self-criticism sessions. Once their old identities are renounced, the individuals receive their entire status and a new sense of worth through the group. A member may, in s6me groups, even receive a new name as a symbol of his/her'new self. With this new source of status and sense of self-worth; as Kanter states, one's self-esteem-depends on unswerving commitment to the norms and values of the gl'OUp.17 Sacrifice A final activity which can be used to deepen a group's commitment to its underlying ideology is to require some sort of sacrifice, When living out the intentional community's world view requires the renunciation of sex .or personal adornment and the adoption of a generally austere lifestyle, the value and sacredness of the cosmic myth is enhanced.18 Members actually find a great deal of joy in undergoing the privations, and often miss them when life becomes easier: That was one of my ti'oubles, giving up clothing. Certain skirts. One velvet skirt 1 had [laughing] oh, how 1 loved that velvet skirt! [Q~ Why did you have to give it up?] Well . we were made to feel., that you shouldn't want something particularly pretty and that looked well on you, that compliments you. This was pride . In order to belike God would wish you to be, you would give up these things. Well, 1 remember 1 struggled withthis and finally one day I was able to march over with a few of these things and my velvet skirt. And I just felt, when I expressed this to [the Housemothers] they rejoiced with me.~9 The Latent Danger in Successful Survival Mechanisms While the five~ mechanisms described above do strengthen the common ideology that had first drawn the members together, they can sometimes become so successful in themselves that the original vision becomes,secondary. The traumatic prospect of !osing all of one's friends may .be sufficient to persuade a doubting member to remain in the community even if he/she no longer ascribes to its worldview. The common pooling of economic goods may strongly discourage a member who has had no occasion for the personal use of money for years from leaving and having to find a self-supporting job.29 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 Others, who have not read a newspaper or watched television for several years, may remain in the community because they feel unable to, cope with the unfamiliar outside world.2! Thus, with the passage of time, it may be debatable whether members truly believe in the founder's worldview, or whether they remain because they fear what would happen to them if the~ left~ To avoid this loss of fervor, attempts may be made to rekindle the primal emotional commitment to the group's worldview. Many sociologists have pointed out, however, that unity based solely on emotional feelings is noto-riously ephemeral. Most groups tend either to evolve into a cornmunity based primarily on socially-integrative mechanisms, or else gradually to relax into a looser association in which "members regain virtually full personal autonomy and the commune becomes a cooperative venture in support of its members' individual self-interests. Many of these latter types last for two or three decades, but rarely are they able to produce a second generation."~2 Reflections and Applications The research quoted above has obvious implications for religious life. The integrating mechanisms used by the successful communal experiments strongly resemble certain practices followed, today and in the past; by many religious communities. Furthermore, sociologists who have studied intentional com-munities stress that such value-reinforcing techniques are indispensable if a group's unique world view is to be preserved in the face of the competing values of American pluralistic society. Religious congregations who wish to remain intentional communities without the aid of common ritual, the limita-tion of members' apostolates; boundary maintenance and sacrifice are doomed to failure. Use of these techniques, however, risks the usurpation of the cosmic myth itself. This paper began by contending that some religious communities are responding to this dilemma by abandoning the model of the intentional com-munity altogether and moving toward the less-demanding "associational" model of commitment. Individual religious today often work and live sepa-rately, and come together only periodically foi- prayer or discussion meetings. Whereas intentional religious communities had to adhere to geographical lim-itations in order to preserve their unity (with congregations restricting their members to a particular diocese or a given set of schools or hospitals), the looser associations might be based on some common interest (e.g., social justice, nuclear disarmament, or charismatic prayer forms.) Models for this might be groups such as Pax Christi or NARW, whose members are'.building links of mutual acquaintance that span the continent. Future historians of religious life may see this movement toward association as a radical redefinition, led by the Spirit, of what "religious life" means. Such redefinitions are not new to the Church. Each of the major traditions of religious spirituality--the Benedictine monastics in the fifth century, the mendicant orders in the twelfth, the Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity in the. Enlightenment era--are the Tkansformations in Religious Commitment results of similar communal adaptations to.societal changes not addressed by previous forms of religious life.23 In this way, the Holy Spirit moves and breathes in the Church, and the trend toward looser associations in place of intentional communities can simply reflect the results of prayerful discernment of God's call to a new dimension of service. As was the case in other times of redefinition, the new wine may not fit in the old wine skins. If a congregation chooses the associational model of commitment, therefore, it is necessary to reexamine what, if anything, the evangelical counsels would mean in this new context. Opening the group's membership to married couples may be feasible, since the competing loyalties of marriage would not be as detrimental to these new, less-demanding associations as they had been to the more intense forms of communal living. In fact, since the newer types of association will not provide the emrtional ties and feelings of familial attach-ment which the intentional community had, more and more of the original members may welcome the opportunity to marry and yet to remain in the congregation. The vow of poverty would then have to be reevaluated in the light of providing for members' children, or if members were expected to rent their own apartments and keep their own bank accounts. The congregation would also have a lessened mandate to require obedience from individuals who had competing job or family obligations. With their unifying worldview less carefully shielded from outside influences, members, might refuse to " comply with requests from the congregation, if these infringed excessively .upon their own freedom. There are several dangers in choosing a less intense type of communal commitment. The congregation will risk breaking up completely as its members are distracted by new loyalties: as Zablocki pointed out, few such organizations survive more than two or three decades:22 Also, Canon law (and the I.R.S. !) may not consider these new forms of community living to be tr~uly religious life. The legal ramifications of this have to be explored by both civil and canon lawyers. Loss of tax-exempt status may imperil some of an associa-tion's ministries; loss of canonical status may result in less support'from the institutional Church. Another extremely important question is whether or not an association of religious will be perceived as essentially different from groups devoted to transcendental meditation or saving the whales. Potential members may well question why they shouldbother joining at all, should the association cease to present a distinctive witness to the rest of American society. Finally, an association will not serve as the sole, or even principal, provider of the affilia-tive needs of many of its members: as mentioned above, combining marriage and membership may be the more desired option. For a woman religious over forty, hrwever, the "freedom" of association members to marry may seem a cruel joke in a society where an unbalanced sex ratio and the attraction of men to youngei~ women renders the likelihood of her marriage extremely improba-ble. 24 To compensate for the emotional closeness which her former intentional community can no longer offer her in its new associational form, such women 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 may find themselves clinging to family members for support, or, :increasingly, isolated and alone, In the face of the dangers of associational commitment, many religious may feel that there is still a place for the intentional community lifestyle in providing ministry and witness in the Church. If the research on previous intentional communities is to be believed, however, it is impossible to maintain such a lifestyle without integrating practices to strengthen the members' com-mitment. Religious orders that elect to retain or readopt the traditionM prac-tices which had so effectively united pre-Vatican communities will face their own set of dangers. The .tendency, mentioned in the preceding section, for these practices to become sufficient in themselves, and to displace the ideals they were originally designed to protect: will still exist. It was precisely this displacement, of course, which had sparked the post-Vatican movements to return to the spirituality of one's founder in the first place. In addition, prac-tices such as isolation from the outside world and self-renunciation rituals have become suspected of destroying members' personalities and mental health. Communities adopting or retaining these techniques will have to deal with charges that they are fostering immaturity, personal dependency, and other psychological ills.25 A Third Alternative Religious life appears to be trapped between the Scylla of a psychologically-destructive intentional community which tends to become an end in itself, and the Charybdis of an ultimately unstable and gradually co-opted association. A third alternative, however, may be possible. Efforts could be made to use the insights of the research quoted here in constructing integrative mechanisms more adapted to late twentieth-century American culture, taking steps to insure that these mechanisms remain valued means to maintain the founder's char-ism-- absolutely necessary in a group of s6cia!ly dependent human beings, but open to change and replacement lest they become ends in themselves. A congregation at.tempting this alternative would first of all sponsor workshops, seminars and weekends (parallel to the psychologically-oriented conferences on mid,life crisis, burnout, and so forth) which would sensitize its members to' the fundamental necessity of ritual, "common times" of togetherness, and other techniques of group unification and identity affirmation. Particularly ~successful techniques developed or discovered by onegroup might be shared with other groups within or outside the congregation. Policies would be enacted ¯ .by the General Chapter requiring that a certain minimal number of these practices be chosen and implemented by members living in a local house, a city or a region. The leadership of the congregation would need to be empowered to call to accountability those members who persist in isolating themselves from the community. The dilemma of how to avoid the disintegrating effects of diversified minis, tries--while keeping their benefits of individual personal growth and flexible T~ansformations in Religious Commitment response to social needs--would also have to be faced. Once the membership and leadership of a congregation were sensitized to the pressures and competing loyalties that inevitably devolve upon any member who accepts a remote or a nontraditional ministerial position, steps could be taken to minimize these effects. The member might be required to return to the congregation during the summer, for example, to engage in the work onlyfor a limited number of years, or to live with congregational members even if not working with them. The role of sacrifice in uniting a community may also provide possibilities for creative~exploration. Periods of congregational service, whether in leadership or in supporting roles, might be one form of sacrifice; budgetary cutbacks to support Some congregational work among the poor might be another. In any event, religious congregations which wish to remain intentional communities, and .yet avoid the traps into which such communities have fallen in the past, must develop the sociological sophistication to choose the integrating mecha-nisms most suited to their needs and those of their members. Individuals must be encouraged to study and research these techniques; degree programs and summer institutes need to be established to make this possible. Conclusion The dichotomy between intentional community and association which has been developed in this paper marks, in reality, two poles of a continuum along which' most religious communities currently exist. In the ongoing process of moving back and forth between these poles, not all bfa congregation's members are likely to agree, either on the degree of intentional community that remains appropriate for their charism and ministry, or on the customs and practices to be used in achieving it. Communities may even.decide to divide, formally or informally, into subgroups according to the intensity and style of the integrating practices they desire. Wherever on the contihuum~a congregation ultimately finds itself, to the extent that elements of an intentional community are pres-ent, mechanisms will have to be developed in order to safeguard its unity against outside pressures. To the extent that the group resembles an association, the problem of reconciling the affiliative and emotional needs of the individuals with continuing and active membership in the congregation will have to be faced. There is undoubtedly room in the American church for varieties of religious life which exhibit many different degrees of communal or associational com- " mitment. This article has argued, however, that it is extremely dangerous for the ministerial effectiveness and the very existence' of a congregation not to recognize and choose freely the type of commitment proper to its founder's charism in the late twentieth-century United States. Only by realizing and acknowledging the strength~ and weaknesses inherent in the type of commit-ment they have chosen--which presupposes that they know which one it is---can the strengths be emphasized and the weaknesses minimized. This paper is a call for the integration of previously ignored sociological insights 170 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 into the self-study of American religious communities. For some, their very survival may depend on it. NOTES ~James Hitchcock, ~Vocations Holding Up in Traditional Communities" in The Catholic Uni- ¯ verse Bulletin, Cleveland, July 6, 1984, p. 10. * 2Sara Harris, The Sister: The Changing Role of the American Nun (N.Y.: .Bobbs Merrill, 1972), pp. 137-8. 3Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (N.Y.: Free Press, 1980), Chapter 6. 4Sources for my informa[ion on these groups include the following: Rosabeth Moss Kanter, Commitment and Community (Cambridge, MA: Ha~rvard University Press, 1972), Lewis A. Coser, Greedy Institutions (N.Y.: Free Press, 1974), and Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Com-munity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980). ~Bennett M. Berger, The Survival of a Counterculture (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981), p. 124. 6Zablocki, p. 29. 7Kanter, p. 47. 8Zablocki, p. 39. 9Zabl~cki, p. 52. 10Kanter, p. 46. tlZablocki, p. 47. t2Kanter~ p. 44; Coser, p. 31. ~3Zablocki, p. 172. t4Kanter, p. 84; Zablocki, pp. 129-30. ~Kanter, p. 84; Zablocki, p. 259 ~6Zablocki, p. 250. tTKanter, p. 103. ~SKanter, p. 76. tgZablocki, p. 185. 20Kanter, p.80; Zablocki, p. 281. 2tZablocki, pp. 282-3. 22Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma, p. 289. S¢ also Herbert Schmalenbach, "The Social Category of Communion." 2JJoan Chittister;~ O.S.B., Women, Ministry and the Church (Ramsey, N J: Paulist Press, 1983) ¯ p. 28. 24Tish Sommers, "The Compounding Impact of Age on Sex,, in Ovil Rights Digest, Fall, 1974, pp. 2-9: ~sZablocki, Alienation "and Charisma, p. 325. Jonah and the Vine M. Basil Pennington, 0 C. S. 0 No stranger to these pages, Father Pennington continues to reside and write in St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. The nineteenth century was a great time for religious life. At its opening, empty and ruined cloisters stood everywhere in Europe, the fruit of the Pro-test~ nt Reformation and the French Revolution. By the end of the century not only had many of these ruins" been restored with the renewal of the ancient monastic and religious orders but many new religious institutes had come into being: With the opening of the twentieth century these institutes were stretching out to all parts of the world calling the whole human family to spiritual rebirth and renewal. Then suddenly their spirit ~ seemed to really catch on, and the King of Nineveh rose from° his throne and called all to renewal--good Pope John called down the Holy Spirit in a new Pentecost for all humankind. It was disconcerting. Not only had the institution that was to be called to renewal taki~h the lead, but the Spirit seemed to know no bounds. There was a great spiritual renewal among the other religions of the world, and soon spiritual masters from Hinduism and Buddhism were within what we once considered our enclave, calling forth our young men and women, our.prospective members. ¯ The Lord had given us our consoling vine. It shot up overnight. Remember the burgeoning novitiates after the Second World War, the great novitiate buildings we put up in the fifties and sixties--the ones that stand empty now or serve as .conference centers, or which our Buddhist and Hindu brothers and sisters have taken off our hands? Our vine was suddenly cut down. And we sir on our hill, in our little shelter (our new social security benefits?) and gnash our teeth, or we try to keep on doing what we were doing before, with little of the means and less of the fruit, because we are always more and more out-of-date. ¯ Well, not all of us, maybe, but how many of t~s? 171 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 One of the things we can note in the closing lines, of the Book of Jonah: as God calls him to universal compassion there is in him no breath of conversion. He who had called others--so successfully to conversion, himself will not convert. He sits there in his bitterness. We who have so successfully called the Church and the human family to spiritual renewal have we ourselves ~heeded the call of the Council to true spiritual renewal? Or have we just tried some "adaptations" and .now in our bitterness blame them for our present plight. The publication of the new Code of Canon Law offers us an opportunity to be again confronted, rather directly and concisely, by the message of the Second Vatican Council: a call to religious to be religious. (Religious comes from the latin word: religo, to be bound again bound again to God, most intimately.) The opening canon in the section on religious tells us that our life is for those "who follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit"; it is a life ."totally dedicated to God who is loved most of all . dedic~ited to his honor, the upbuilding of the Church and the salvation of the world" (Canon 573). It is "through charity to which the counsels lead that [we] are joined to the Church and its mystery in a special way" (Canon 573). When the code comes to speak of the obligations of religious it states first th'at "religious are to have as their highest rule of life the following of Christ as proposed in the Gospel" (.Canon 662). Then it goes on to state that "contem-plation of divine things and assiduous union with God in prayer is to be the first and foremost duty of all ~religious" (Canon 66.3). When it comes to speak about novitiate formation, it says not only that "the novices are to be led to cultivate human and Christian virtues . to be prepared to cultivate the worship of God in the Sacred Liturgy . to be instructed to read and meditate on the Sacred Scriptures" but also "to be instructed to contemplate the mystery of salvation" (Canon 652): Conte~mplative union with God is for all religious, and novices are to be effectively taught how to open their lives to the contemplative dimension of prayer and life. There was a very interesting developmen~ at the Second Vatican Council (P, ope Paul insisted constantly that the'Code of Canon Law is to be but the practical implementation of what the Spirit had said to us in the Council--a ¯ call to constant renewal). At the first session a long treatise on religious life was offered to the Council Fathers, some one hundred thirty pages. The commission was told to boil it down. They returned to the second session~with thirty five pa, ges. Again, the word was to boil it down. At the third session the Fathers found at their places a brief document of nineteen propositions, very much what we have, with a couple of added paragraphs on monastic life. This,new schema had a very long fo0tnote--almost half as long as the whole text. In this footnote the writers explained that the threefold distinction in regard to religious life that had come into common use from the teaching of Aquinas and was found even in Pius Xll's Humani generis, namely active, contemplativ~e, and Jonah and the Vine / 173 mixed, was not to be retained. There could be no such thing as a simply active religious life. All religious, by the very nature of religious consecration through religious profession, were called to contemplative union with God. Some were. to:be "mere" contemplatives." Others were called to pass on the fruits of their contemplation in apostolic ministry. This very significant shift, a real call to renewal, has been largely~ missed. The code spells it out very clearly. Will we hear? We can continue to sit apart in our pathetic little structures and bewail the fact that no one is paying any attention to us any longer, and leave renewal to ,:the laity, the hierarchy, and the clergy--and to the other religions! We can watch creative, new !ay ministries take on our former missions--in itself not a ¯ bad thing at all. We can watch our most promising youth, who really want to do something to make a difference in a world that is hell-bent on global destruction, respond to the call of the great swamis and roshis who practice what they preach, and of the new prophets who have caught the universalist vision and call for global.unification--perhapsnot such a good thing. But the reality of it all is that we, the sons and daughters of the Book, have, in the intimate revelation of God in Christ and in the empowerment of the sacred tradition and the sacramental life, so much more to bring to the human family. It will only I~e when we teach the fullness of the call of the Gospel, so powerfully re-enunciated in the Second Vatican Council, and actually live what we teach, that we will be credible and effective and attractive--in the right sense of that w.ord--again; The great progenitors of the Second Vatican Coun-cil were, first, John Henry Cardinal Newman, who reminded us that doctrine-- and all else in a living Church--keeps on developing. Hence, we cannot stop with Vatican II, but before we advance beyond it, we have at least to get what it has given us. Can we honestly say we have really absorbed the teaching of the documents of Vatican I19. Certainly I can't, and I have been working with them steadily for over twenty years! Second was Teilhard de Chardin, whose call was ~to a new level of consciousness that integrated the whole of creation, centering all in the heart of Christ; in the awesome power of Divine Love that was poured out in our hearts in the Holy Spirit who groans within us to be free to do mighty things in and through us: things of prayer and worship, things of empowerment and life. Have we heard Newman and Chardin? Are we stretching to keep develop-ing, and expanding our loving concern and our creative vision to the whole of. the human project, the divine creative project? Sad to say, not a few monasteries, not a few religious'institutes look a bit like Jonah on his hill, under his little structure, with his wilted vine lying prone across the opening. Elderly monks and religious seem to be saying: "Enough! I won't begin anew. I have done enough. Let it die with me. After all my years ¯ of service they rush on to new things and take no notice of all I have done." Maybe the younger religious don't realize it, but the charism of the com-munity, that precious gift to the Church and the human family, is incarnate in 174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 the seniors. However, can we blame the younger ones (who are often all too few or even non-existent), those in whom the call to share this same charism is awakening,if they do not see it when the seniors allow it to be hidden under the bushels of structures and attitudes that do not let its light shine forth? The Second Vatican Council, or rather the Holy Spirit speaking through the council, asked us to bring this precious heritage into confluence, or we might even say confrrntation, with the signs of the times. Sure, that is going to cause upheaval or at least unrest and some tension. But what is the alternative? To sit with Jonah in our shack and groan? Renewal .is going on among the laity. They are taking on many of the tasks and missions that ~religious have done so well. And perhaps they are even doing them more effectively in a secular world. Renewal is going on among the Eastern religions and their renewed "religious," the swamis and gurus and roshis, seem to be more effectively serving, and attracting to their ranks, the fine young people who used to enter our novitiates. (How often when standing listening to an impressive young TM teacher or an EST seminar leader or a "Moonie" who has just earned his PhD at Harvard, have I thought to myself: this young man would surely have been a Jesuit in the pre-Vatican II days.) ~ Are we going to watch all this as passive spectators, cheering it on, or worse, lamenting over it? Or are we going to be open to the spirit of Newman and Chardin, adapted to our own particular charism, a priceless gift of God to the Church, and take full part in the tremendous spiritual renewal of our times which we in,great part are responsible for inaugurating? Even if there is a wonderful spiritual renewal taking place in many corners of our society and our globe, they are still just corners. Depressing, competi-tive, greedy materialism is the rampant reality. Millions and millions still are not in touch with the spiritual dimension of their being, and know only ultimate frustration. There is plenty of work for us all. The new code says our consecrated life is to be "an outstanding sign in the Church--and beyond--foretelling the heavenly glory" (Canon 573)--giving to the human person something big enough to call him or her forth fully, and to make life truly worthwhile. This is our call. And so--what now? Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries": The Role of Provincial Superiors Today Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle has become a more frequent and influential contributor to our pages of late. The present article continues his study of government in religious communities considered under particular aspects. His earlier study, ~General Government: Its Leadership Role Today" appeared in the November/December issue of 1984. Himself a member of his congregation's General Administration, Father Arbuckle resides, and may be addressed, at their headquarters: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. ~nnovation is at the heart of survival and growth. Without innovation in response to rapidly changing conditions, human groups stagnate and die. This is true of business firms, of local and national economies. It is also true of religious ~ongregations, of provinces within the congregations.l Religious exist to serve the Church. They are to be concerned not just for the survival of their own province and congregation, but in particular they are primarily oriented to spearhead pastoral and spiritual growth within the Church. They are to be specialists in innovation: "Their whole lives are dedi-cated to God's service." Religious are to show forth "boldness of initiatives."2 In quite expressive language, the document Mutuae Relationes emphatically insists on the innovative role. of religious:~ there is need "to devise new, inge-nious, and courageous ecclesial experimrnts under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit . A responsiveness rich in creative initiative is eminently compatible with the charismatic nature of the religious life."3 Innovation is the generation, acceptance, and implementation of new ideas, pastoral methods or servibes, whatever can help develop within ourselves and in others the kingdom of God. Application and implementation are at the core of this definition; it involves the ability to change or to adapt.4 Easy enough to define innovation. But how does innovation take place? What role do major superiors, especially provincials, have in stimulating change? 175 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 This paper is an attempt to answer these questions. I propose to approach this key topic by: -summarizing recent management studies on how innovation takes place; -summarizing relevant research conclusions of applied anthropology; -applying these insights to the role of provincials within religious congre-gations. I believe provincials today face challenges,that their predecessors rarely confronted prior to Vatican II. They are called to be change-agents within their congregations; in fact, I believe the future of their congregations might well be said to rest in their hands. But, through no fault of their own, they often do not know what to do. If they do know what to do, they often do not know how to go about stimulating innovation. Japanese and American Business Cultures During the world's tough economic years after 1978, the picture on either side of the Pacific Ocean was remarkably different: soup kitchens in Detroit contrasted vividly with an apparent freedom from economic depression in Japan, where business firms exported more and mo?e the things that Ameri-cans made once upon a time. Some people almost in a fit of hysteria have called for more protectionism against the "Japanese m~nace." Saner minds, however, do not blame the Japanese or the tardiness of the American govern-ment to build trade barriers, but they blame the limitations of America's managerial culture.5 Recently I noticed a bank advertisement in O'Hare air-port, Chicago, which stated: "In Chicago, nothing takes off faster than a Good Idea." This is not as accurate as it should be, simply because the Ameri-can culture at large, and the management sub-c.ulture, are not as conducive and supportive of innovation as is the Japanese cultural system. Several man-agement experts, therefore, have concentrated their research not so much on the psychology of industry or business management, but on the anthropology of culture and culture change in relation to business action.6 By culture we mean that network of common meanings ~and values that is deeply rooted in the corisciousnessiunconsciousness of a group of people. This network gives life to distinctive structures and institutions, myths and symbols. The symbols of a people have many.meanings that are deeply real to those who share them; they give people a sense of identity, security, purpose. But since they are derived so much more from the heart than the head they are difficult for outsiders to grasp and describe. What are the significant differences b~tween the two business cultures? There are two key variables the individual or potential innovator and the group--and both are given different emphases in the two cultures. Both cul-tures stress the importance of change-agents or innova!ors, that is of people who are gifted with the "art of anticipating the need for, and of leading, productive change."7 In Japanese culture, innovators evoke change in and through the harmonious support and active participation of the ~roup. L~yalty Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 177 to one's group is a most respected personal attribute. The culture emphasizes harmony not for the purposes of maintaining the status quo but for innovation. Group leaders know this and hence concentrate less on the task of production than on thee growth of good relations, morale, value~ that support .innovators within"the group. The innovators themselves do not seek to stand outside the group; they recognize that only through the active support and participation of the group itself will the ideas be implemented) But in Western business culture, reflecting the broader culture of the society, group leaders tend to stress the productive task to the neglect, of group mainte-nance activities. Theoretically there is an assent to the need for building a supportive innovative culture, but "American managers don't quite realize that what they are creating requires a lot of energy and attention from them to sustain."9 The Western culture, and in particular the American way of life, gives vigorous support and status to independence, to being "a rugged individualist." The American West may have been built by thousands of"rugged individuals spread over the vast frontier. But millions of lone rangers employed under a few thousand cor~porate roofs may not much longer prove workable."~° In this system the rugged individual, the would-be innovator or change agent, must struggle and battle alone to prove the. value .of his or her insight. The group is assumed to have what .really adds up to a negative or opposition, role. The individual, as it were, stands outside the .group; the group is not assumed to have any substantial role in helping to stimulate the innovative idea or in participating in .its implementation. In the Japanese culture the innovative idea can tr.uly be said to be the group's, though articulated at first by a particular person; .in American, or Western cultures in general, that is not the case. The consequence for Western economies of course is unfortunate. It generally takes an extraordinarily tough individual to sustain his or her enthusiasm in the face of constant passive or open opposition. Little wonder that managerial researchers complain about the deadening restraints on innovation in Western business cultures. The firms that are notably successful today in America are precisely those where the leadership recognizes that the primary task is to clarify, articulate and insist on key values: quality goods and setA, ices,: the participation of all employees in, discovering .and supporting people who have new ideas for the maintenance of quality. This task of leadership is a tough assignment. If it fails, then the business culture becomes stagnant, oppressive of innovators and new ideas.~ So, if American (and Western) businesses are to become truly competi-tive. with, Japanese enterprises, their leaders must become and remain cultur~al revolutionaries. Then the advertisement at O'Hare airport will be accurate! Innovation and Innovators: ~nsights of Applied Anthropology . Anthropologists in general have the reputation of always aiming to preserve what is traditional. If they do take that approach, it is because the' general thrUst of socio-economic development programs, particularly in Third World 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 countries, has been in the direction of what an expert on fisheries once called "bulldozing the tropics into civilization.''~2 In the 1960s and 1970s (to a less extent) it was rare indeed for development experts to ~ake into account the fact that people are human beings and also have distinctive cultures.,The so-called experts descended as it were from on high with the "good news of develop-ment." The people had to listen "with gratitude," do what they were told and rbecome "rich and good" just like Westerners! Since so many projects have failed or are failing, there is a greater openness to turn to anthropologists to help uncover why "the good news" became "bad news," The ignorance of.the experts might have been bliss for them, but their lack of wisdom has meant immense suffering for the people, The following general conclusions have emerged from the study of anthro-pologists into the success or otherwise of development projects: 1. Changes will succeed only if they are in response to felt needs of the people. The discovery of what in fact are the real felt needs of a group of people is a long and difficult task. It is so easy for the would-be innovator to impose his own needs on people who for the sake of peace agree. I came across an example of two American volunteer development workers on a South Pacific island, who were worried by the fact that the ladies of the village had to go down a rough slope to a river to do the washing~ So, they imported cement, "convinced" the ladies that the use of the village washing tubs would be far more convenient. After the tubs had been built, the good ladies used them for one day and back they went to the river. The volunteers were annoyed, but humble enough to ask why the tubs were not used: "We like togossip about the men; If you wash at the tubs, the men will hear. Also, our backs are sore from standing at the tubs. We like to squat when we do the washing!" In order tO obtain the real felt needs, there must be lengthy and tiring dialogue based on the willingness to learn on all sides, considerable questioning and active listening by the change-agent. 2. Innovative leadership must be encouraged to emerge from within the group and be supported by the group. A girl was taken from a Fijian village and trained in the capital city in how to improve the nutrition quality of village cooking. She went .back full of enthusiasm; within a few days she was back to the old style of cooking. Why? No one in the capital thought it important to work with villagers on the spot to heip them become accepting of change and Supportive of the local innovator. The experts expected the impossible of one person. This is a critical point. Innovators or change agents are "the right people in the right place at theright time."~3 The right people are the would-be innovators because they have ideas that look beyond the established ways of doing things. By the right places we mean that the people who have to be motivated to accept the ideas are willing in fact to be motivated and to participate in implementing Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 1"/9 the ideas. The would-be innovator and the group are not to be in opposition to each other, but are to be integrated.into a team. The task of the main leader or ~main innovator--often one who holds an official position, e.g. government officer, town mayor, village chief--is precisely to help create space for individ- ' uals to "get the,power to experiment, to create, to develop to test--to inno-vate." t4 This means that a tremendous amount of time and energy must go into disposing the group to be open to change, to be positively accepting of the innovator. There is no short cut! The more the group is encouraged to become the agent of its own growth, the more in fact it will b~ sensitive to the need for the right type of innovators. Would-be innovators tend to.fall into two broad types: those who are basi-cally loners, uninterested in the group, possibly deeply bitter about being rejected by the group. Unless they can get over their spirit of excessive individ- - ualism, such people, because of personal reasons and/or the neglect by the group, can obstruct growth. There are others; however, who have been pushed to the margins of the group's life, but who still are deeply attached to the welfare of the group and who in their own way sorrow for the sense of blind conservatism and fatalism that the group expresses. These are the people that should be very specially spotted and encouraged by the main change-agent or change-catalyst. 3. Deyelopment projects are more readily successful, if there is maximum delegation and involvement within small groups. For example, I found credit unions far more successful than large-scale business co-operatives in Fiji, because the former were village-peopled based, but the latter were firmly directed from the capital city by government officials. The people felt the credit unions .were theirs; they "owned them" by participating daily in" credit union affairs, their management, direction. But, this could be done only because credit .union values of cooperation and honesty were con-stantly articulated by the official educational change-agems. And the people were called to the accountable by their own leaders on.the basis of these values. ~ 4. The innovators must not move faster than the group. The innovator can be so far out front that the people lose confidence in the project. The innovator in this case is equivalently' demanding culture changes that require too many risks for the people; identity and security are endangered. So, the people retreat to old and familiar values 'and customs. They cannot be blamed for this. They have everything to lose, but the insensitive innovator with his skills and status may have little to lose. By way of summary, there are three indisputable research conclusions: people definitely resist cultural .changes that appear to threaten their basic securities; they resist changes they do not understand and they resist changes that are being forced oti them.~6 But these conclusions all sound so logical, so obvious. Why are they so 180 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 frequently ignored, in practi~ce by even the most educated and intelligent'of people? I can pinpoint four reasons in particular. First, it is not easy for many of us to realize that all change involves in one way or another culture change, that is change in values, new security systems, and more. And culture change basically is very slow. We belong to a culture that has come to assume instant answers to instant problems! It is difficult for. us.to grasp the reality that the innovation process is a combination of technical and human or cultural factors, rather than being a purely technical or mechan-ical matter. The would-be innovator requires considerable patience and open-ness to learn just how change takes place. o Secondly, leadership is so often confused, with the use of authority. It is assumed that change can take place simply by command.For example, it was decided in the mid-1940s that Fijians should have in their villages hygenic toilets of a simple design. The word went out from London, eventually reach-ing the district British officers in rural Fiji. The fine toilets were built .by the villagers, under British direction, but not used! Officials "forgot" to involve the .villagers in a decision that concerned them. True leadership aims to evoke participation. This is-often more important than what is visibly done. Thirdly, no matter how intelligent and educated the innovator may be, if he is insensitive to the dignity of the people the project will fail. People yearn to grow as people through participation in all that concerns their lives. If they are refused the chance to participate, or if they sense the innovator is out to manipulate them by going through the motions of participation, then they will withdraw from involvement and become passiveand angry observers. When I was researching in Fiji into village development, I was frequently told by colonial officials that "Fijians simply cannot handle their own affairs.': The tragedy is that the people had been told this so often that many had come to believe it. When the credit union movement was brought to Fiji by an Ameri-can Jesuit, Marion Ganey, the people showed that the colonial officials were wrong. The people discovered that they could handle their own affairs. A major factor in this movement of self-growth for the people was the deep faith that the Jesuit expressed in the people and their potential. One Fijian in village summed up what this meant for him: "When he comes into the village, even though he cannot speak our language, we feel ten feet taller and ten .years younger!" Respect for people must spring not from fine words, but from ~the deep conviction in the heart. People sense whether it is there or not. Fourthly, would-be change-agents can fall into what really is culture shock. People when confronted with a culture that is different from their own can feel so lost that they really cannot cope. They lose all sense of judgment and may well begin by acting in a thoroughly authoritarian manner in order to cope. In brief, the findings of contemporary managerial and applied anthropology studies are the same. Innovation is the key to survival and growth. Innovation flourishes in. those cultures in which innovators and people are positively interacting and participating together in implementing the new, ideas. No mat-ter what position the potential innovator holds, e.g. manager, village chief, Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries"/ 181 government officer, church official, member of a group, to be ultimately effec-tive he or she must be imbued with a philosophy of deep respect for the .potential of the people to be masters of their own growth. As George Foster notes: ''The ethic of helping people change their culture includes knowing what the culture is. what its processes of change are. It is ~not enough to be a competent technician, morally fortified with the unquestioned assumptions of goodness of one's profession . The ethic irivolves restraint and caution in missionary zeal. It means. [being] careful not to plan for people, but to work with them in searching for realistic answers to their problems . .It means learning to be humble, to be willing to learn . It means sympathy and tolerance . It means a genuine and unselfish desire to help., in a realistic way based on full understanding of the nature of culture."17 The warning of the wise Lao-tzu centuries ago remains universally true: "As for the best leaders, the people do not notice their existence. The next best, the people .honor and praise. The next, thepeople fear; and the next, the people hat~ . When the best leader's work is done the people~say, 'We did it ourselves.'" Challenges Confronting Contemporary Provincials The Church's culture, prior to Vatican II, was highly structured and open to little change at any level. Its mission was clear and its pastoral methods were considered to be universally validono matter what culture was being evangelized. Religious congregations reflected, this type of culture. Major superiors gave clear commands, reminding people of the importance tq maintain the rules of the community. They commanded; subjects were expected to obey. Certainly they did not expect to be consulted. It was assumed that superiors knew what was right, what God wanted. But with Vatican II superiors and their fellow "religious were reminded that together they hadto s~arch to discover what God was asking of them. Pastoral methods that were once valid could no longer be considered so in a world subject to chronic change. These new emphases and values undermined t.he security and identity of the old religious-life culture. Questions replaced answers; clear and simple command~ gave way to process. Sole authority yielded to rule by committee. We know well the malaise and confusion that hit congregations and individual religious.~a The role of the contemporary provincial is an unenviable one. How can a provincial stimulate a province to accept a culture in which the religious are open to change, effectively willing to participate in change, are supportive of innovation and innovators? In order to understand the complex nature of this challenge, I will construct a "typical contemporary .province culture." I will then summarize various possible reactions on the part of~a provincial when faced with such a culture. Since we are dealing with a cultural construct or type or model, it is inevitable that there will be oversimplifications, imprecisions. Readers can make their own additions or subtractions. A Typical Province Culture -Membership is aging; few, if any, recruits. -A significant number of religious were trained under the pre-Vatican 1112 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 model in which creativity and innovation were discouraged. -A significant percentage of religious are distressed, disoriented, by the theological, pastoral and spiritual emphases following~Vatican II. -The province, in whole or in part, denies that there are real manpower crises which demand positive planning and changes. -Houses are closed; pastoral works put aside, not because of creative, forward~looking pastoral planning, but because the province has run out of manpower resources. -A significant percentage of the province is spiritually uninspired and uninspiring. -Small groups of reiigious or individuals are marginalized because of their innovative pastoral ideas and practices, or because they ask out of deep love for the Church andfor the congregation challenging questions relat-ing to renewal, or because their radical religious lifestyles are uncomfort-able. to the power forces in the province.~9 -Religious strongly support decentralization of authority and personal freedom, but do not support a corresponding accountability to major superiors and to the province. In this cultural model of course there are values and practices that are in conflict with each other. In fact, it can happen tha~ in this model many religious find little of substance that they have in common. What happens when a newly elected provincial is confronted with a province'that approximates this type? He can react in a culture-shock manner or accept the reality in an ~understanding way and, adopting the operational principles that should guide any would-be change-agent (described above), proceed to help cultivate a religious-life culture that is innovative, effectively open to change, a culture in which religious support innovation and partiCipa~te in its implementation. A brief look first at possible models of culture-shock reactions of the new provincial. Again, it is important to note that we are constructing models; it is necessary to indicate emphases rather than rounded descriptions. ' 1. The Minister Provincial: one who concentrates almost exclusively on the welfare of the individual religious; planning and animation are neglected. 2. The Administrator Provincial: one who keeps to his office desk, involv-ing himself as far as possible in paper work; ministering and animation are neglected. 3. The Preacher Provincial: one who concentrates on preaching about the need for change; planning and ministering are avoided. He has an impact on no one. 4. The Laissez-faire Provincial: he opts out of all key functions. He assumes that kind words to all will produce lasting peace. Others assert leadership by default, but it is a leadership that builds up power for some strong sections of the provinre to the detriment of weaker power ~blocks. Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 183 5. The Planner Provincial'. this is the dreamer who devises all kinds of plans for change, but avoids the nitty-gritty of organizing the imple-mentation of the plans, the hard grind of administration and the demanding task of animation and ministering to the religious of the province. 6. The Authoritarian Provinciak this is the one who assumes he can min-ister to the religious, plan, administer and animate allby himself. Refus-ing to dialogue or to delegate, he believes "it is time that religious obeyed, put their heads down and got on with the job." He may set up a variety of committees, not to hear what they say, but to get things done that he decides should be done. Given the pressures on a provincial today, we must not be surprised:if some behave in ways that approximate to one or other of these models. So great can ¯ culture-shock be that individuals may not consciously be aware of why they react in these ways. We are now in a better position to look at objectively what the functions of a provincial are today, how he or she should act in a reasoned way when confronted with the task of fostering a culture supportive of innovation. The Provincial as a Cultural Change-Agent Leadership has to do with meeting needs. Religious need a sense of spiritual purpose, they need to feel valued by fellow religious, they need to participate in decisions that affect them, they need to be stimulated to accept in an ongoing way the call toa deep union in Christ; the province has need to be cleai" as to its goals and how to realize these goals in practice, it needs a culture that is ¯ supportive of change and change agents. Provincials truly exercise leadership to the degree that they respond to these needs. We are here speaking of transformational leadership, as defined by J. M. Bums. For him: "Transform-ing leadership ultimately becomes moral in that it raises the level of human conduct and ethical aspiration for both leader and led, and thus it has a transforming effect on both."20 It is a leadership that rarely uses the authority of the office, not a leadership that moves people to act "by the sheer over-whelming magic of his personality and persuasive powers.TM The type of leadership the provincial should be exercising is described in the findings of applied anthropology given above. It is therefore a leadership that aims to help religious discover, individually ~and corporately, that they have within them-selves the power and the commitment to enter into a process of innovative change in service of the Lord and his Church. Such a provincial is "influential by strengtheningand inspiriting his audience . The leader arouses confidence in his followers. The followers feel better able to accomplish whatever goals he and.they share."~2 This is an extremely tough assignment. A provincial has several definite functions as a leader: to ministe~ in a pastoral way to the needs of individual religious, to plan for the future of the province, to administer the province by implementing the plan and to animate Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 the whole province' to be part of the planning and implementation of the corporate plan. Each function is related to each other function listed. How in practic~ are these functions to be realized so that no one function achieves a priority it should not have? I believe a provincial can fulfill the mandate to lead the province by empowering individuals and groups to use their gifts for the common good; by helping the province to discover 'its common goals; by helping the province to discover the means 0f.achieving the g0als.23 Let me explain the meaning of each of these statements: 1. ?he Empowering of Individuals and Groups ,~ Individuals and groups need to be reminded that they are called to serve the Church as committed religious, placing whatever gifts God has given them at the disposal of others; In the post-Vatican Church this is a most demanding provincial apostolate, particularly when so many religious have been personally wounded or disoriented as a result ofthe cultural changes following the Coun-cil. Tremendous patience in listening is required. Religious in fact may need specialized help if their sense of self-worth and confidence is .to be restored to them. However, the more religious are affirmed in the gifts given by God, the more they are open to participate actively in sharing their visions with others and in supporting innovation. In his visitations the provincial is also able to discover individuals who are already change-agents or potentially so. They may need affirming in their role, particularly if there is opposition to their insights~ The provincial, eventually using his authority, may then decide 'to place these change-agents in positions where these people can be the most productive. He can spot those religious who with further training are able to become change-agents, e.g. as spiritual leaders, administrators, pastoral leaders. ~ At the corporate and individual levels, he articulates the values that relate to the welfare and purpose of the province, e.g. values of'Christian service, cooperation, participation, support for innovators. This role is called the "hands-on, value-driven" approach, an apt description that religious life ani-mation should mean.24 It is a role that requires the provincial to keep challeng-ing the province, to keep 'raising awkward or difficult questions that others do not want to raise, e.g, what is the purpose of what you are doing?why are we in this particular apostolate--just because we. have always been doing it or because this is what God wants us to do because people really need it? what ideas do you have to improve the quality of your apostolate? It is not sufficient to ask the questions; he miast be on the spot, either personally or through a delegate, to hear the answers and to ,question further if the answers are not adequate. Remember, this. is the only way for the real pastoral felt needs to emerge. The more religious.are forced into responding to such questions, the more in fact they are being empowered to utilize their God-given gifts. The word forced needs to'be further explained. In order to be forced into Provincials as "'Cuhural Revolutionaries'" / 185 reacting to realities, it might well be necessary for a provincial .to cultivate in certain circumstances a "planned apostolic neglect or avoidance" of individuals or groups. Sometimes people will not respond to reality until they are forced to do so through suffering and the discovery of their own powerlessness. The discerning provincial will know just when this suffering should be permitted to occur.25 For periods of time he may become the object of considerable anger from the individuals or groups in question who keep demanding that "he solve their problems." I recall me.eting members of a credit union in one Fijian village that for several years had become inactive. They told me that for a long time they blamed outsiders for their problems. The founder, Fr: Ganey, kept away quite deliberately until the people finally realized that they were the source of their own inactivity. They expressed gratitude for the skilled neglebt on his part. Paradoxically, this is an example of the "hands-on, value-driven" type of leadership. 2. Helping the Province to Discover Common Goals . Without common goals, a religious province will break up into many competing groups, struggiing for ascendancy over one another and for:control over ever-declining manpower or financial resources. Just as the. discovery of what the province's felt needs are is a long and difficult process, so also will it be challengingto refine the common goals that relate to these needs. A provincial might be °able to discover the goals ,himself and articulate them to the whole province. Notionally the province might accept them, but in practice they will reject them for they have never had the chance to own them by participating in discovering them themselves. How are these goals to be discovered and articulated? We all know from bitter experience how chapters so frequently end up with finely worded state-ments of goals for°the province and for this or that apostolate. But, once the texts are published they are shelved and nothing happens, until the next chapter when the same procedure is adopted! Recall the anthropological insight above: projects are more readily successful if there is maximum delega-tion and involvement within small groups. If this is done in provinces and the information and experience of the groups are fed up to a chapter or provincial council, then the goals that emerge will more likely be owned by the whole province. A provincial then will use interest groups and, if necessary, foster new groups to emerge that are close to where action is taking place. Delegation is insufficient; he must keep calling them to accountability. When this process is adopted, time-consuming though it may be, individuals with innovative ideas are more likely to emerge and their insights more easily owned by the group. From the point of vie~w of a desk administrator, the approach is not particularly efficient as regards t~he use of time, but it will definitely be effective. It means, of course, that the provincial either directly or indirectly will be present to these groups, actively listening,.challenging them to see their goals and objectives in 186 / Review for Religiouy, March-April, 1985 light of wider corporate needs and goals. If he ignores them, they rightly become discouraged, bitter and angry, eventually either going their own way independent of ~he provinc.e's needs or becoming purely passive, without any interest in innovation. 3. Helping the Province to Discover the Means to Achieve Goals A province that denies it has a manpower problem, when in fact it obviously has, must be challenged to recognize this reality. I heard of one province of a congregation which expected at the very most to have three priests ordained for the coming ten years. The provincial chapter encouraged each apostolate to state their manpower needs; they did and they were accepted without question by the chapter. No one wanted to accept the fact that the total manpower requirements of the province as passed by the chapter were twenty priests beyond what the province could ever possibly field. A province that is really participating in its own growth at the grassroots would never have,reached such an unrealistic state of denying the obvious. A provin-cial will work closely with various interest and apostolic groups, challenging and planning how to achieve the goals established by the groups and by ~the province as a whole. Moreover, the provincial will aim to discover just what the criteria for manpower assessment is being used at the grassroots. For example, if the Church is defined in organizational or hierarchical terms, then low recruitment coupled with an aging membership in a clerical religious congregation is a severe crisis. On the other hand, if the Church is defined in community terms, the present search for new directions promises all kinds of possible ~theological and sociological variations in forms of ministry.26 In addition, a province in which many members have been trained to be passive, uncreative, unsupportive of innovation and innovators will have a manpower crisis that is Open to correction by a provincial. A proxiincial who has the ability so to empower religious to discover that they can be creative even in small ways and open to change will be developing resources within the province that were not able to be considered before. In brief, therefore, the provincial's task is to stimulate the province through its own discernment process to an awareness of its own resources. The criteria-- theological and otherwise--need to be spelled out and repeatedly articulated until owned by the province. They cannot be the criteria of the provincial alone. Qualities of the Provincial as Cultural Change-Agent In this paper~it has been assumed that leadership is "the process of influenc-ing the activities of an individual or a group in efforts toward goal achievement in a given situation. In essence, leadership involves accomplishing goals with and through people."27 It means that the leader is concerned about tasks, but also human relations. A provincial will need to know what the mission of the Church is, the charism and: mission of his own congregation, an understanding Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 187 of the manpower and financial resources of the province. He will need to know the theory that relates to how to stimulate the province to discover the pastoral needs of the people they exist to serve, and how to go about setting and implementing policies: If he has little knowledge of these points, he can still turn to others for help. But he cannot turn to anyone else ffr his most basic and primary skill, the skill of working with people.28 As applied anthropology points out with incisive clarity, this quality must flow out of his sensitivity to , the innate potential in every human person for responsible self-determination. This sensitivity will inevitably produce empathy, which is the ability to accept people as they are, not to condemn, but also to accept them for their potential. The response of empathy is not necessarily verbal. In fact it is primarily an internal response wherein a provincial identifies with the feelings of the province and the religious members.29 :From this sensitivity there will naturally emerge also a gift of listening, a willingness to enter into dialogue with the province and its religious at a speed that is not insulting to the dignity o.f all concerned. A provincial of this. kind is a humble person, aware of the immense riches of God's grace and power that he will discover even in the most wounded of the province's members. Ultimately, for a provincial such qualities of openness and sensitivity will be maintained, despite the considerable testing, only if his own life is centered within the heart of Christ the Servant (Mt 20:25-28). Rather than command with the authority of status and appointment, the servant: shows by example. Servants seek the free choice of those being led.30 This is the model clearly evident in the new Code of Canon Law (618): "The,authority which Superiors receive from God through the ministry of the Church is to be exercised by them in a spirit of service., i. By their reverence for the human person, they are to promote voluntary obedience, They are to listen willingly ~o their sub-jects and foster their cooperation for the good of the institute and the Church, without prejudice, however, to their authority to decide and to command What is to be done." Finally, what amount of time should a provincial give each of his functions? I believe the greatei" percentage of his time should be directed to ministering to the corporate body, that is the emphasis on planning and animating the province to become a culturesupportive of innovation and participating in innovation. I believe the ministry to individuals should occupy less time:3~ This latter is extremely demanding of energy and it can be never ending. But, it is a vital ministry that can be shared with others in the province. If a provincial is not clear as to his role, he can so easily slip into one or other of his functions to the detriment of the other duties. Conclusion A provincial is the officially appointed chief change-agent for a province. Without his vigorously stimulating leadership, it will be most unlikely that his province will become or remain innovative and creative in the service of the Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 Church. I assume throughout the article that inno~,ation in itself will not really be effective, unless it comes out of a province that is turning with renewed vitality to Christ, the Stimulant and Sustainer of all change. I also assume that there is a process of reappropriation of the founding charism, that is members of the province, reflec.ting on the needs of the world around them on the one hand, and the gospel message on. the other, have the same sense of shock at the gap between them that their founder experienced.32 However, I can almost hear a very committed provincial who is deeply disturbed by the type of problems we have listed in the model of the "typical province" above sayz "What you write sounds good, but it is from an ivory tower. I see several houses in my province that have long since served their apostolic usefulness: I know which way the province should move to touch the real needs of people. I see good-meaning people who are in fact obstructing all change. Therefore, I see the need to move fast and decisively; I will close the "houses and disperse ~he men to places of real apostolic need. One needs to be practical, not theoretical!" I fully sympathize with siach a provincial. But, in this article I claim that the most practical way of changing a culture so that it is supportive of positive innrvation, not just for the present but also for the future, is for a provincial to learn to work with people in the ways explained above. Neither people nor cultures are mechanical structures. By struggling slowly 'to enEourage innovators to develop within the culture and to be sup-ported by the culture of the province, the provincial will be acting in a thor-oughlypractical way. This is the lesson of contemporary managerial studies, of the findirigs of applied anthropology, and, of course, of a spirituality of.growth within religious life in the service of the Church. We spoke in the article of the virtues needed in this challenging role. Together, ithey could be united under one virtue--the gift of humor. A common characteristic of dictators, revolutionaries, and ecclesiastical authoritarians alike is the refusal both to laugh at themselves and to allow others to laugh at them.33 He who has a sense of spiritual humor recognizes deep in his heart that ultimately he can do nothing by himself. He needs God, he needs other people. When lie tries to do everything himself, he plays God~ And what could be funnier! ". See how the kings of the earth stand in array. He who dwells in heaven is laughing at their threats [their pride], the Lord makes light of them" (Ps 2). NOTES ~See Raymond Hostie, The l_zfe and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-sociological Approach, (Washington: Cara, 1983, pp. 276ff, and Lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz, Gertrude Foley, Thomas Giardino and Carol Lichtenberg, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (NY: The Seabury Press, 1979, p. 60 and passim. Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries"/ 189 2S.C. for Religious and Secular Institutes and S~C. for Bishops, Directives for the Mutual Relations between B~hops and Religious in the Church, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 31bid. 4See E. E. Hagen, On the Theory of Social Change: How Economic Growth Begins (London: Tavistock, 1962), pp. 88-97. 5See Rosabeth Moss Kanter, The Change Masters: Corporate Entrepreneurs at Work (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1983), pp. 17-36 and passim; William H. Davidson, The Amazing Race: Winning the Techno-rivalry with Japan (NY: John Wiley, 1984), passim. 6E.g. see R. M. Kanter, op. cit.; Terrence E. Deal and Allan A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate IDle, (Reading: Addison-Wesley, 1982); Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman, In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Compan-ies (NY: Harper & Row, 1982). 7R. M. Kanter, op. cit., p. 13. 8See Richard T. Pascale and Anthony G. Athos, The Art of Japanese Management (London: Allen Lane, 1982), pp. 116-140); also Chic Nakane, Japanese Society (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1973), pp. 88f. 9R. T. Pascale and A. G. Athos, op. cit. p. 126. ~0Ibid, p. 124. ~See T. J. Peter~ and R. H. Waterman, op. cir. p. 291 and passim. nSee Lucy'Mair, Anthropology and Development (London: Macmillan, 1984), p. 13. ~3R. M. Kanter, op. cit., p. 306. ~41bid, p. 23. ~sSee Gerald A. Arbuckle "Economic and Social Development in th~ Fiji Islands through Credit Unions" in Credit Unions in the South Pacific, edited by Nell Runcie (London: University of London Press, 1969), pp. 90-108. irSee (ed) Edward H. Spicer, Human Problems in Technological Change (NY: John Wiley, 1967), p. 18 and passim; Ward Hunt Goodenough, Cooperation in Change: .An Anthropological Approach to Community Development (NY: John Wiley, 1966), passim;:William W. Biddle and Loureide J. Biddle, The Community Development Process: The Rediscovery of Local Initiative (NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965), passim. ~T Traditional Cultures: And the Impact of Technological Change (NY: Harper, 1962, pp. 268f. ~sSee Gerald A. Arbuckle, "Why They Leave: Reflections of a Religious Anthropologist" in REVIEW FOR RELIrlOUS, Vol. 42, No. 6, 1983, pp. 815-826. ~gSee Evelyn M. Woodward, "On the Grim Periphery: Reflections on Marginality and Alienation~ in REVlEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ~'ol. 42, No. 5, 1983, pp. 694-711. ~ocited by T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit., p. 83. 2'David McClelland, cited by T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit., p. 84. '2David McClelland, ibid. '3See Speed B. Leas, Leadership and Conflict (Nashville: Abingdon, 1982), p. 28ff. ~4See T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit.,'pp. 279-291. ~For an analysis of "situational leadership" see Paul Hersey and Ken Blanchard, Management of "Organizational Behavior: Utilizing Human' Resources (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1982), pp~ 149-175. 26See J. Moore, "Some Aspects of the Sociology of Priesthood" in Social Studies: Irish Journal of Sociology, April 1979, p. 129; and William R. Burrows, New Ministries: TheGIobal Context (NY: Orbis, 1980), p. ll7ff. ~TSee E Hersey and K. Blanchard, op. cit., p. 84. ~sSee T. R. Batten, The Human Factor in Community Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 181. ~gSee Robert K. Greenleaf, Servant Leadership: A Journey into the Nature of Legitimate Power and Greatness (NY: Paulist, 1977), p. 20f. ~oSee Lawrence O. Richards and Clyde Hoeldtke, A Theology of Church Leadership (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982), p. 107 and passim. 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 3~See comments by Conleth Overman, Current Issues in Provincial Leadership (Washington: Cam, 1983), p. 76. 32See Finbarr B. Connolly, Religious Life: A Profile of the Future (Dublin: Reality, 19~2), pp: 10ft; Diarmuid O Murchu, The Seed Must Die." Religious Life--Survival or Extinction? (Dub-lin: Veritas, 1980), pp. 35-40 and passim. a~See Conrad Hyers, The Comic Vision and the Christian Faith: A Celebration of Life and laughter (NY: The Pilgrim Press, 1981), p. 24. Christ the Center of O.ur Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Living the Difference: Contemplative, and Apostolic Lifestyles Marie Beha, OS.C. Sister Marie is a frequent contributor to Revieff for Religious. Her last title, "By His Wounds," appeared in the March/April, 1984 issue. Sister Marie continues to reside in the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive: Greenville, SC 29609. The letter repeated a familiar theme, "I keep wondering why you did it. Why you entered a contemplative monastery, .instead of loving and serving and praying where you were. What have you found there? What's so different about it?" 1 put the letter down and reflected again on the frequency of such inquir-ies. What db they mean? What do they say, not only about individuals, but also, and especially, about the larger picture of the future of apostolic life and the needs of His church? Those questions are much too big for me; I only ask them by way of "consciousness-raising" of you the reader. My purpose here is far more modest than any attempt to answer such questions. 1 would only like to suggest some of the ways in which monastic contemplative life differs from active; apostolic life. To do this I will tell you a story or two. They are true stories; true to my own experier~ce but also limited by it. And further limited, as are most stories, by touching only on externals. But underneath what appears lies all the .difference of attitudes and value choices. In short, my stories hope to be parables! Life in a contemplative, monastic community is a completely different kind of life: it is not active, apostolic life, with more provisions for times of prayer, silence, and so forth. Nor is it, by any means, a reliquary of pre-Vati-can 11 customs untainted by the adaptations of renewal. No, it is a completely different kind of life, a unique way of expressing the love of God and neighbor and of serving the Church which undergirds all Christian life. Let me try to illustrate some of these differences with a parable or two. 191 199/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 A Matter of Timing -, The bell ending supper-recreation had just rung and the schedule 1 had been given guided my steps toward the kitchen. The last exercises of the monastic day were: 7 p.m.: dishes; 7:30 p.m.: Night Prayer. 1 noticed that there were plenty of dishes, stacks of them. The cook had been baking, and so we had an assortment of taxing bowls and loaf trays to add to the usual array of pots and pans. I checked my watch and made some quick equations. Amount of work' to be done divided by time till Compline equals rate of speed at which dishes must be washed. It would be close timing, and 1 pitched in with more good will than skill. After several such evenings 1 began to notice something: I was the only one working at that rate of speed--to say nothing of noise level and general confusion I generated. The other sisters were quietly, peacefully, going about their usual work--at the usual rate of speed. "We'll never get finished that way!" l was right. We didn't get finished on time. Night Prayer did not start at 7:30. But I also noticed that no one else seemed disturbed, l commented on this interesting phenomenon to another sister. She was surprised. She cor-rected my schedule to read: "Night Prayer after dishes?" She also challenged my thinking: "What's the hurry? Where are you going?" Not Counting the Cost My second story could be titled, "Quantity: a Further Qualification?' A generous benefactor had endowed the monastery with bushel upon bushel of Eeaches, all needing almost immediate attention, it was "All hands report to the kitchen" for several days of hard work, punctuated only by the regular rhythm of the Office. At the end of several very full days that, with the community refreshed by peaches served in any number of creative ways, we finally got the remainder of the fruit stored away intb jars. It was with a feeling of genuine accomplish-ment. that I asked the~sister in charge, "How many quarts did we can?" Again that startled !ook. "How many? 1 have no idea, sister; I never thought to count but 1 can if you want me to." Obligingly she did and reported next day. But 1 could see that she remained puzzled by my interest so ! observed, "You hadn't counted them before, had you?" "Oh, no; we just do as many as we can. How many doesn't make any real .difference, does it?" Well, does it? 1 had more thinking to do. 1 could very well imagine any number of people answering that question with a rousing affirmative: "Of course!" Again I computed my answer, based on previous life-experience. Price per jar is the product of outlay for raw materials times the .number of hours needed to produce the finished product. ! pursued my line of thinking a bit further and calculated the cost of our seVeral :days of labor. Evenat minimum wages those were expensive peaches! I didn't see how we could afford such luxuries, I reported my findings .back to the sister of whom I had made my previous inquiry. 1 could see from the expression on her face that she found my analysis Living the Difference / 193 puzzling. "But someone gave us the peaches and we had the time . " Her math went something like this: "given the peaches; given the hard work and the time," 'it all added up to total gift. There was no need for any further computation. Who Is Gifted? "Everything is grace." Everything is gift--if it is given. A visiting sister was being introduced to the community. Name followed name in bewildering rapidity uninterrupted by any qualifying phrase. Only the abbess was further identified by the job-description of her title. I could sense Our visitor"s barely suppressed desire for some functional description to distinguish one "Sister" from another "Sister," and these from still more "Sisters." I began to let my mind roam over the possibilities. You could say: "Sister X is cook right now." But next year it would be another sister's turn either to learn hbw or to manage with expertise. No matter. And "sister A is presently the laundress." A promotion, a demotion? The job meant neither. All such speculation is simply useless, l can still recall with amusement the shocked look on the face of another visitor who had: risked asking an obviously r~fined and very well-educated sister, "And what do you do?" And the sister an-swered, truthfully enough, "Oh, I'm in maintenance right now." The truth is that no amount of natural giftedness, no degree of profes-sional' preparation will ensure success as a contemplative. Accomplishment is far less important than whole-hearted effort. And in this area there are no objectivized standards, no satisfying sense of accomplishment. In a contem- ¯ plative community the most gifted are not the individuals with the most to give, but rather those who give the most of themselves. The prized "positions" are, very often, those that allow for routine repeti-tive work that can quiet the mind and open it for deeper levels of prayer~ a . "lived mantra." But newcomers to contemplative life have to discover these values disguised in the monastic staple of manual work. On the face of things, one could only agree with a new postulant whose previous career in social work had included service in a shelter workshop. On being introduced to the routine work of the altar-bread room, her classic comment was, "What a marvelous type of work this would be"for a shelter workshop." The other sisters engaged in baking and cutting and checking hosts could only enjoy their newfound classification among the "retarded." What does one's doing have to do with who one is? ~. What Do You Do All Day? This is not my favorite question. And frequent repetition has not given me any more ready an answer. Sometimes the more knowledgeable questioner will add with understandable awe--or skepticism--"Pray? Do you pray all day?" Experience has shown me that the bare recitation of the monastic schedule doesn't provide a satisfying answer. In fact, it may well obscure rather 194 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 than reveal the truth about ou~" activity and its meaning~ Only too often the next question is: "Aren't you bored?" No, certainly not. The last time I was bored was so far in the past that 1 would have to mount a sweep-and-search operation to discover it. If the dailiness of my life were not. rich and full 1 would leave and try another style of living, one that offered the possibilities of more interesting avenues of escape! Granted, the e~ternals of the monastic day do have a certain fixed struc-ture to them. From Easter to Thanksgiving and through the New Year, the regularly recurring Hours of the Liturgy spell out continuous praise. Breakfast on Christmas morning will be celebrated in the same silence that prevails at the beginning of any "ordinary" day. So too the gathering peace of a Fourth-of- July evening after Night Prayer will be just as quiet as that of any other completed day. All of which does not rule out celebration. On the contrary, the liturgy of monastic life requires celebration. Unfortunately, it is easier to explain the staples of monastic scheduling than to present the nuances of silent celebrat-ing~ So let me try another story. It was watermelon season in the South, and our garden had produced a superabundance "pressed down and running over" with additional benefactions from other fortunate gardeners. After a full morning of grass mowing I came into choir at noon,:grateful for Midday Prayer's refreshing pause. Dinner routinely followed and the monastic menu had some of the same invariability: simple, nourishing food for which hunger provided most of the spice and sauce: the main dish would be several vegeta-bles completed by fruit for dessert. This day, once again, there were generous slices of cold watermelon. Now I'll confess, watermelon is not my favorite fruit. But as I sat down in silence, .giving thanks by opening myself to enjoyment, l suddenly found myself alive to the deep down goodness of--watermelon! Nothing had ever tasted so good. And another eucharist was celebrated. So what do contemplatives do all day? They celebrate the ordinary and enjoy its giftedness. Routine simply stabilizes their capacity for wonder. Lei-sure opens their work,to prayer and regular periods of formal prayer prevent work from becoming its own taskmaster. Bored? Never. There is too much challenge in the being/doing that is living. "But;" l hear you ask: "what's the living for?" Is Seeing Believing or Is Believing Seeing? If the bottom line of any loving is faith's free assent, then contemplative life can only be sustained in a faith that believes even when there is'nothing to show or even to see for oneself. And it's such blindness that illuminates everything and makes it all worthwhile in redemption's economy. To illustrate with another story or two. 1 had to make a trip to another monastery and ! was laying out my preliminary plans for this unusual venture with the abbess. Would | fly? Or Lt'ving the Difference / 195 take the bus? Sister replied that she would prefer I took the plane: it would be worth the extra expense. I heard her caring, and I appreciated its typical concern. But when next we spoke 1 shared with her the details of my further research on the subject of the. bus and its costs, all carefully detailed and worked out. The abbess stopped me halfway. "But, Sister, I already told you l would prefer thht you fly." That grounded me for a while. She commended my original initiative and recognized my desire to go the way of the poor. "Yet 'He became obedient'; that is what redemption is all about." Many years later I am still struggling to learn and to live in that mystery, believing that a surrender which is adult and free makes whole a world still fragmented by original disobedience. Such simple obedience is only part of the faith story. The contemplative expression of poverty, celibacy, community all take "believing" for their true "seeing." Most of the time, in my experience, all that is visible is the effort required to live out faith's assent, but sometimes understanding is given--that one may believe. Another story. The sign propped up on the refectory table amid the potato salad and the cottage cheese indicated one more national tragedy. "Mrs. S. just called. X has been shot. Please pray." My supper was seasoned by some speculation: Who had done it? And why?--the inevitable, incredulous "why". Later on that evening, when 1 found myself drawn, back to the choir to pray, those samb questions still formed the backdrop of my inarticulate presence before Him. Then, slowly, my prayer became more expressive, not so much with words as with life experience. Who had done it? Not ~them," "out there." No, I had done it. I was involved, deeply so. I was guilty. "Why?" 1 felt the surge of frustration, anger, hatred boil over within me and reach out for revenge, l was there. It was my choice to feel, to know--and to bring it all with me, in me, to Him. l stayed on in the choir in darkness, l could see why l was there, why l am here~ Ultimately it is only faith that makes the difference. So if I were to respond to my original letter of inquiry with a counter-ques-tion, 1 might well ask: "What do you consider Worth a whole life's giving'?" The richness of multiple-choice answers to that question is what completes our world and opens it to the ever fuller coming of His kingdom. The contemplative response is spelled out in a structured leisure that works hard without the sustaining drive of competitive accomplishment. It is a style of life that appreciates individual giving over personal giftedness, that values the simplest of contributed services. A contemplative is constantly surprised by beauty in the ordinary and learns to celebrate it in the language of sameness. The reconciliation of obedience with initiative and eager participa-tion with a .life that deliberately stands apart, these are some of the other paradoxes of contemplative, monastic life. So the stories go. There are many, many more--as .many as there are contemplatives and communities living out their life's faith in values that are expressed with a difference. :Spiritual Direction Frank Wallace, S.J. Father Wallace is engaged in retreat work at the Campion College Retreat Centre (Campion College; 99 Studley Park Road; KEW, Victoria, 3101). Prior to that he had been Tertian Instructor for his province. Pastoral care is a term that covers the work of many helpers whose roles may at times oVerlap, yet are specifically different. There is the parent who nurtures, the teacher who instructs, the religious superior who rules a com-munity, the confessor whose specific function is to convey sacramental for-giveness, the counselor who helps the client get in touch with his or her feelings, helps remove blocks, assists in decision making and psychological growth. And there is the spiritual° director, whose specific function is to facilitate the .encounter between God and the directee; so also do confessors, religious superiors, and perhaps, too, the other.helpers. Yet the spiritual director has a distinctive, specific function, which is emerging ever more clearly.' The Role of the Spiritual Director ~' The experience of most older religious today is that the spiritual director (or spiritual father, as he was often called) was someone you consulted about problems, distractions in prayer, and who helped you in those areas. With the growth in prayerfulness and the awareness of the need for guidance, lest we may "fall off the mountain," with the increasing popularity of directed retreats and houses of prayer, with the work of depth psychology, ,the role of the spiritual director is .seen to be more than problem solving. It is concerned very much with growth in prayer. The spiritual director has been called God's usher and so is one who helps the directee to become more aware of God coming, of God present,,.by being with the directee as he or she is opening up to God's love. Spiritual directing belongs properly, to the opening to,the Sp!rit. As Alan Jones says, spiritual direction is worship, adoration, waiting on God (Explor- Spiritual Direction / 197 ing Spiritual Direction, p. 56). At times, the spiritual director may have recourse to a psychological coun-selor or, if skilled, act as counselor, to assist inthe psychological growth of the directee, because psychological growth and spiritual growth are related, though not synonymous (see Dr. Gillian Straker, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 38, 1979). There may be distorted images of .God, of self, of prayer, that are blocking the encounter with God and which need correcting for that encounter to take place. In this, however, the spiritual director will not lose sight of the relationship with God as the focus of his or her caring. The valuable work of the counselor in helping the directee to be in touch with his or her feelings and to acc'ept the real self, facilitates the journey to a real God, by means of real communication. So often this experience, to borrow the title of one of Morton Kelsey's books, is reaching for the real, and necessary for growth in spiritual freedom. ~ The spiritual director walks with the directee, who shares his or her prayer experiences, and together they discern what is happening. At the very heart of spiritual direction is discernment, which, in its. full meaning adds a deeper dimension to counseling, as we shall see later. The Rules for the Discernment of Spirits are a valuable cdntribution by Ignatius 'Loyola~to spiritual directing. The Directory of 1591 compares the director to a midwife. Hugo Rahner says of this: "This somewhat remarkable compa'rison of the director tO a 'midwife' is in itself an introduction to that great patristic theme of the 'birth of God in men's hearts,' which the great psychologists and~experts on human nature among the l~athers saw as a.time of internal conflict, during which considerable importance must be attached to the discernment of spirits" (Ignatius the Theologian, p. 140). Recently a friend, who is a mother and who had been directed by me in a retreat, and who had never heard of the 1591 Directgry, wrote to me, andwith her permission I quote: "I rather think you are like a midwife--assisting those in the throes of labor--knowing the birth is to eternal life.We don't see the birth--only the struggle. I know once I reached the stage of b.eing able to push, it wasn't nearly so bad .and .nobody could do the pushing for me. But getting to that pushing stage,was greatly helped by understanding midwives who helped me to know what was happening and where I was at. They encouraged, dispelled fears, transferred confidence, lifted sagging spirits, soothed and cossetted and bullied me throughout." That is as good a description of a spiritual director as I have come across, and it certainly opened up for me the validity of the 1591 image of midwife. Any serious entry into one's spiritual life may cause a great "agitation. of spirits,." as Ignatius Loyola and Peter Favre both said. The director needs to be very encouraging and reassuring, be willing to share the helplessness and pain. Convinced that any experience can be creative Qr destructive, he or she will be ready to encourage at times of fear, discouragement, disappointment. Encour- "191~ [ Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 agement is, perhaps, the most significant help that the director gives. Linked with this is enlightenment, so that the directee sees what is happen-ing, discovers the hidden God or new ways o.f praying. Enlightenment does not mean telling the directee what to do, playing God in his or her life, imposing the director's experience on the directee. The director should be a mirror for the directee to look into, a sounding board to bounce off ideas, a companion of hop, e and !ight. ' In the following model interview we note the encouragement and enlighten-ment ,offered by the director: Director: You have been telling me about, your prayer with Jesus in the garden, and said you were disappointed. What were you disap-pointed about, Mary? Retreatant: I was just fighting distractions all the time. I couldn't slay with the Lord, and I wanted to comfort him. Director: You really wanted to comfort him? That desire is surely from the Spirit, wouldn't you say? Retreatant: I suppose so, yet I really l~eel I let him down. Diredtor: Do you think the Lord is disappointed in you? Retreatant: Well, I didn't do much for him. Director: Have you asked the Lord whether he was disappointed in you? Retreatant: No, but he must be, surely. Director: Could you go to him and ask him? Only he can tell you. your disappointment is real and it is important to find out more about it. So speak to him about this feeling of letting him down. Retreatant: D6 you think this will he!p? Director: I believe it will. And I also hope you haven't forgotten about that desire to comfort him. That's the result of his power at work in you. Retreatant: That's. ~right, I did want to comfort him. So I mustn't be all wrong. Director: Well, talk it over with him. Here the director is trying to encourage and bring the retreatant to the Lord. No doubt he or she will discuss at some time the retreatant's concept of prayer, the handling of distractions, and will direct attention to the Lord's experience of pain in the garden. These are areas arising from the interview about which both must seek further enlightenment. The director will have noted how the retreatant tends to focus on the negative and forget the positive. But haste is made slowly. The Context of Spiritual Direction The context of spiritual directing varies, and so do the people seeking. There is the spiritual direction proper to a retreat. If the retreat is fully directed, the dialogue will be very much centering on the prayer experiences shared. Of course, there will be references to out-of-retreat life, but usually the focus is on the retreat prayer. Sometimes the retreat may be "semi-guided," characterized by one or two talks to the group, and the opportunity to talk with a director. In Spiritual Direction / 199 that context there seems to be less discussion of the individual, distinctive prayer movement, because the situation is not as intense. So in these two retreat contexts we see some variation. Outside of retreat there may be ongoing spiritual direction, characterized by regular, frequent interviews, extending over a year or longer. This will mean discussion of daily life experiences as well as the prayer experience. Often this means that the director moves into a counselor's role, although the dialogue about prayer and God should not be overlooked. There may be the kind of directing relationship that calls for interviews only occasionally during the year, as a kind of "accountability checkup," with the opportunity to talk over one's spiritual life made available at these meetings. Finally, a spiritual director may be sought out in a crisis situation, either because he or she is recommended, or because the alternative of seeking a counselor, psychologist, psychiatrist is too alarming, Although the expectancies and the dialogue in all these cases will vary, the spiritual director, qua director, will focus on relationship with God--though in differing ways, according to the directee's needs. Gerald G. May summarizes the role of the spiritual director very succinctly when he describes it as "a pointing of direction; a 'setting of environment, a sharing of oneself, and a deep attentiveness"( Pilgrimage Home, p. 23, Paulist Press, 1979). Some Qualities in a Good Spiritual Director Ordination, of itself, does not gift the priest to be a spi~tual director. Today we are seeing lay people °and nuns exercising this ministry; and doing so successfully. What are the qualities needed? Love The director must be able to relate to people, to love people, to be free to feel warm to them and to receive their warmth. Morton T. Kelsey in Caring, writes well of this and says: "It is impossible for us to love other people unless we listen to them . The kind of listening I am talking about is listening which does not judge or evaluate" (p. 67). It is the quality of the listening that shows whether you are .loving the person, deeply interested in him or her, listening to know and accept, not to change, judge; evaluate. It is a listening that respects the distance and the difference of the other, a listening that patiently waits for the revelation of the other, a listening that can lay aside personal agendas because of ~he absorption in the other. It is a warmth, however, that is not possessive, that allows the other the freedom to be his or her own person. In The Practice of Spiritual Direction, Barry and Connolly speak of the need to have a "surplus of warmth" (pp. 126-130). They mean "a love for a variety of people, warts and. moles and all," which is characterized by com-mitment, the effort to understand, and spontaneity. The director must be free 200 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 to be his or her own person, not seeking to satisfy emotional needs through the directee, nor imiaosing agenda or experiences on the other. Nor must the director lay fidse expectations on himself or herself by trying to play God in the other's life as a solver of that person's problems. He or she listens so fully that he or she "enters into the skin" of the directee. This demands generous love because it leads into compassion which is shared helplessness, shared pain. It means beifig able to stay with the other no matter how hard that is, losing yourself in the other. Clearly we are not talking hire of sentimental attachments, but love as understood by St. Ignatius in the Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love. Sensitivity, courtesy, gentleness, reverence, patience are all quali-ties that fill'out the love the director must have for the directee, plus a willing-ness to accept silence: He/she is responsible to the directee, but not for. The quality of our responding reveals how we are listening. If there is no response, the directee may not have the sense of being heard, and, as Gerard Egan says, that is "hollow listening." Listening with the head only leads to judgment and just as the directee wants to be heard, so also does he or she want to be accepted, not judged. "Don't worry about that. You have no need to feel that way," as first responses are passing judgments, and reflections on the directee. What he or she wants is to be accepted, and this is experienced through responding with understanding. "I see that is very worrying. You must have been very hurt," and so forth. As the director listens with full absorption, the understanding will deepen, so that the sources of the feelings will be seen. When judged opportune, the director may communicate that deeper under-standing. The goal of listening is total listening, responding from the heart, not merely from the head. Gerard Egan writes well of listening and responding in You and Me. Total listening means listening with one's eyes, ears, head, heart so that one is lost in the other. It is contemplative listening, which hears what is not said, which hears the tone of anxiety, sees the expression of joy or worry, enjoys being with the other, and communicates that: "You are the only person in my world just now." The genuine love we are speaking of is marked by utter honesty and openness with the directee. So there can be no pretense, no bluffing by the director, but a transparent, open love. Brutal harshness and'severity have no part in this honest trust, even though sometimes they are mistaken for it. If there is to be confrontation it is important that~ this come from love, and be seen to come from love. Setting up "win/lose" situations tomes from a desire to Be right, not from love. As the directee experiences being trustbd by the director, so he or she is encouraged to trust the director with that precious "hidden self" that Paul writes of in Ephesians 3:14-21. All this will facilitate a genuine encounter between persons and with God, not just a mask meeting a mask. Sensitivity to the mystery of the other is the soil in which intimate relationships grow. The director needs to be comfortable with mystery, whether it is the mystery of God, of the directee, of self, so that there is this growth in sensitivity. Spiritual Direction / 201 There must, then, be patience to wait on the directee, on God. It is a great temptation to push sometimes, and this must be resisted, for, as Ignatius Loyola teaches, the Lbrd chooses to deal directly with the soul, and the director must not get in the way of this meeting. Simone Weil spoke of "waiting patiently, but with expectation, for the coming of the Lord." As the example of the midwife reminds us, it is only the ,mother who pushes, not the midwife. Dr. Jack Dominian describes this love as sustaining, healing and promoting "growth (Tablet, 14 May, 1983). Toial listening is sustaining because it conveys to the other that you care. A responding that clarifies, confirms and ~ffirms the goodness of the'other, not reinforcing the badness they see, and which" can help open the directee to God's personal love, is healing and promotes growth. There is little growth without pain. Wounded people can be frightened by the love offeredand may lash out in their fear, challenging the sincerity ofthe love offered. The director must be willing to stay in there,"sh~ring the hurt and the helplessness. That~ is compassion, shared helplessness, and the director shares in the growth of the directee as they walk together' in the mystery of pain_ and healing. We are all wounded healers if we are close to Christ. Mary could stand by the cross, sharing the helplessness of JesuS, without moving away because she could "do nothing" for him. At times the directoi-'s role is just to be a presence, helping transform helplessness into strong hope, not hopelessness (2 Co 12:7-10). This can be very difficult and painful, because the more love we bring to a situation, the more vulnerable we are. Peter tried to come between Jesus and his cross because he loved Jesus. Later he learned it was a false kind of Io~e, that was directed more at himself than at Jesus. So, the director may feel deeply the pain of the other and wish to come between the directee and Calvary. Dr. Dominian is not exaggerating when he writes: ~For anyone of us to succeed in loving, we have to suffer, and die a thousand deaths. Here is the encounter between grace and nature at its most powerful" ( Tablet 14 May, 1983¢p. 446). Directors who have stayed with directees in their Gethsemanes will agree. Feelings and Affectivity . The director needs to be aware of the importance of feelings. They are messages to ourselves about ourselves and we are diminished when we do not listen to them. The relationships.between the director and directee, as .between both and God, are deepen.ed as there is a growing .awar¢ness of the feeling responses present, and a sharing of them. ,. Feelings, by Willard Gaylin M.D. (Ballantine Books, N.Y.) and Feeling and Healing Your Emotions, by Conrad Baars M.D. (Logos) are helpful books. Baars speaks of humane and utilitarian emotions, directing attention to the psychic energy emotions release. ., Barry and Connolly speak of Anger, Deep Fears, Warmth.and "l:enderness, and Sexual Feelings, as very strong, deep feelings that people experience. There must be no blaming the other for one's feelings, for feelings are deeply 902 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 personal and must be personally owned. So the director encourages the directee to reveal such deep feelings to God also. Some may be prepared to reveal their so-called good feelings but not those they judge to be negative, e.g. anger. Or they may be willing to share anger (because it is becoming acceptable) but not strong sexual feelings they might be experiencing. Authentic prayer, though, is not a performance. It is an encounter with God, possible only when I am truly myself, One should be on guard against an exaggerated emphasis on anger which can be a cover up for less acceptable feelings as, for example, .sexual feelings. And it seems to have become rather common for persons to blame parents, school, Chur~ch~ their religious congregations for their present unacceptable state. Withotlt wishing to deny the influence all .these have, I wish to stress that our feelings are our ow9, and blaming others is both false and harmful. It is a sign of growing maturity when we accept responsibility for. our now lives. So .often we discover that the feelings that surface in prayer reveal the concept the directee hasof God. Hannah Hurnard in The Hearing Heart tells that for long she could not pray to Jesus, only to the Father. She was afraid of approaching Jesus lest he ask something hard of her. This would indicate that JesuS seemed to her excessively demanding. She was healed of this distortion, and could then pray to him. So a retreatant might pray to Jesus as God, but not as Man; she feels safe that way because she is frightened of men. Yet that fear is hindering an intimate relationship with Jesus, keeping him distant. Somebody else might pray to a God whois infinitely powerful, holy--and also infinitely distant, impersonal. Could such a person':experience that God really care~, is deeply fond of him or her? Perhaps what we see here is a fear of intimacy. The affectivity of the person includes the will, which besides being'an executive faculty, is also a loving faculty. The affective act of the will, "I love you," e~presses the basic desire for the well-being, the continued existence, of the beloved. Besides the will, our affective life also includes our feelings. These~are what I call the surface responses--sad, mad, glad, scared. There is alsoa deeper level of affectivity where dwells our faith, hope, love, peace, which one is aware 6f even though sensible "feeling signs" are missing. For example, a directee may speak of aridity in prayer, and yet there is the longing to pray, together with the awareness of an underlying deep peace. When John of the Cross speaks of the signs for moving prayer into contempla-tion, he is alerting us to these deeper levels of our affectivity. Discernment Thespiritual director is a walking contradiction, in that he or she isto be a "Competent incompetent" as someone has: said. The director must be incompe-. tent, because it is God's work at issue, God's. power that gives the increase (2 Cb 12:7-10; 1 Co 2:1-5). So, we must~tru~t ih God's power at work in the °Spiritual Direction / 203 director and in the directee, "doing infinitely more than he can ask or imagine" (Ep ~:14-21. This attitude must be continually growing and relied upon. But the director also must be. competent, skilled in total listening and in discet:nment. It is the discernment of spirits that is at the heart of.spiritual direction and which ultimately differentiates it from counseling. Ignatius Loyola and Peter Favre were good directors because they were both skilled in dis-cet: nment. As with them, so with the modern director, this skill is learned by being attentive to one's own responses--thoughts, feelings, behavior. Reflect-ing upon these experiences, for instance, the director will begin to observe their beginning, their middle and their end. Thus he or she begins to distinguish movements which are from God, movements authored by self, and move-ments stemming from forces outside, whether good, neutral or bad. The spirit-ual director learns from the movements in his or her own life the skills of discernment. Rarely are things black and white. Sifting tlie good and the bad, the wheat and the tares, is.a gift from the Spirit. The matter for discernment is the actual experiences revealed by the directee. Together, the director and directee prayerfully reflect upon these experiences to distinguish what is God-wards from wtiat is not. The directee, for example, may speak of a "peace-filled prayer." Nrt all peace, however is from the Good Spirit. Some is the result of achievement, some the accompaniment of a tranquil environment, some is the false peace of complacenc~,, and some truly i~ God's gift. What is this "peace" before us now? What are its fruits, and is it enduring? How does it measure with the packet group of Galatians 5:22-24? Humbly, patiently; both director and directee wait upon the Sp!rit to reveal the truth. Perhaps disappointment is reveaied in h sessio_n with the director. "Whom are you disappointed in? What are you disappointed about?" Following through on the answers offered can be richly rewarding, and can point the way in which the Spirit is guiding the direcl~ee. There are many writings about the discernment of spirits to help ,the director. A good knowledge of the Rules ~iven in the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola is most helpful. Jules Toner has published a Commentary on these Rules for the Discernment of Spirits. This° is the fullest and deepest treatment I have read. Chapter 10 of Fessard's ~fe in Faith and Freedom, Michael Buckley in the Way Supplement 20, Harvey Egan in "The Spiritual Exercises and the Ignatian Mystical Horizon," the Memoriale of Blessed

Issue 10.4 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A. M. D.G. ~o Review for Religious JULY 15, 19 51 Our Aged Religious . Sister Mary Jafie Redemptorls÷ Spiri÷uali÷y. . Joseph I~t. Coller~n Recollectio"n Day Ouestions " ° Winfrld Herbsf Elections and Appointments . Joseph F. Gallen Grow÷h through the Eficharls÷ Anselm Lacomara ins÷ruction on Sponsa Christi , List of Psychometric Tests Communications Book Reviews VOLUME X NUMBER 4 Rfi::::VII::::W FOR Ri:::LIGIOUS VOLUME X JULY, 1951 NUMBER Jr CONTENTS SOME PROBLEMS OF OUR AGED RELIGIOUS-~Sister MaryJane, O.P1.69 COMMUNICATIONS ': 173 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 174 VACATION SCHOOL IN SOCIAL ACTION .1.7.4 REDEMPTORIST. SPIRITUALITY--Joseph M. Colleran, C.SS.R. 175 QUESTIONS FOR MONTHLY RI~CO~LECTION-- Winfri~l.Herbst, S.D.S . 185 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 187 GROWTH IN GRACE THROUGH THE EUCHARIST-- Anselm Lacomara, C. P .200 HERESY OF RACE 204 INSTRUCTION ON 8PONSA CHRISTI . 205 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 19. Sister Digna's List of Psychometric Tests . 213 BOOK REVIEWS~ Religious Life and Spirit: Living the Mass; Jesus.Christ; The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius . 217 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS " 222 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Morality and Alcoholism; The Good Confessor; Seventy Years 224 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1951, Vol. X. No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approba~tion. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act: of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S. J. Copyright, 1951. by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writ;ncj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Some Problems ot: Our Aged Religious Sister Mary Jane, O.P. THE problems of old religious are the problems of each and every one, for none of us is getting any younger. The proverbial old-fashioned rocker on the farmhouse porch where Granny could drowse away her honored last years has vanished, but Granny has not and neither has the aged religious. Never before our generation was the old age problem Sb great because there never were so many old folks. "Statistics tell us that today men and women sixty-five and overc~prise seven per cent of our population. Science has graciously presented another twenty years or more. Religious as well as others must plan what they are going to do. Sixty-Fiue is Young One wonderful and bright fact is that there are numerous reli-gious, both men and women, over sixty-five who are still,:bearing a large share of the burden of the community's w6rk. Dodge and Ford proved that old folks can work; they maintained old-age shops whose able personnel included men in their eighties. Long before either of the above thought of this, religious communities were taking it for granted. Sixty-five in a religious community is usually con-sidered young. Rarely does one find a religious who even considers retiring at that age, or at any age for that matter. How often one finds religious teaching school or doing other types of work at the ripe age of seventy-five and eighty. The author knows a religious who still goes out collecting alms for the community at the age of ninety-two. ~ During the past two wars employers in general were del~ighted with the oldsters' low accident and absenteeism rates,, as well as with their strategy in attacking problems. They were proud o'f the pro-duction power of that proportion of their workers. We, too, have every right to be proud of our aged religious. In the United States most old people subsist on some form ot~ organized "handout.," A few may enjoy adequate pensions from private sources,'frorr/civil service retirement allowances, Veteran allot- 169 SISTER MARY JANE Review [or Religious o merits, or old age relief or insurance. For others, an unfinanced senescence is likely to ,be dreaded: Often, it means ending up in a pub-li~ or private "nursing home." Not so our religious brethren; there is not this-fear for a member of a community. A few religious com-munities have a home for their dear ones, some with a'long waiting list. Waiting, yes, waiting for one or more to be called home for the longed-Ior eternal reward, but. waiting, too, to "occupy the places made vacant. What about the ~ged religious who cannot be admitted to these havens for some reason or other? The Housing Problem Where should these aged religious live? No one would deny them the balmy ease of Orlando, if they could have it. The public institution is out of the question. Some communities have done much but others have mad~ slight provision for their aged members either ih the past or at present. '~In many cases existing conditions and facilities are pitifully inadequate. It is undeniable that unless some corrective measures are set in motion, this already serious prob-lem'will become more acute as the average life expectancy climbs higher. Perhaps many more of the aged religious should be living with their communities, but, where this is not feasible, they ought to have a'special home ~where they may be left alone, but where they can obtain help when they need it. We all agree, that individualization in the care of o~r aged religious is preferable to institutionalization. There is hardly an institutional home for the aged which does not mingle the sick with the near-sick. More often than not, the latter need nothing more than custodial care. It is true that the pressure of modern .urban living makes domestic adaptability between age groups difficult and in many cases well nigh impossible. The aged find it difficult to change their habits so late in life. Nevertheless, many religious can and do get along together, particularly where th~ old religious remember the Golden Rule and the younger ones bear in mind that Our Lord said, "What you have done to these, you have done to Me." Some Symptoms o[ Age Old age is a gradual progression toward deterioration. It often shows symptoms of growing self-interest and lack of impressibility. Important events are no 19nger significant to old people as long as they do not touch directly upon their lives. There is usually a gen- 170 Jul~,1951 OUR AGED RELIGIOUS eral reduction in mental effidency, forgetfulness, arid loss of memory for recent events. Other symptoms include the tendency to reminisce and to fabricate, intolerance of change--routine must be observed and must never be disturbed lest irritability and tension rise--a rest-less desire to be up and about, to travel here and there, "frequently getting lost in transit (whether in or out of the monastery or con-vent) ; insomnia, and a tendency to putter aimlessly about the house and gardens. The t.endency to live in the pasi is very strong in some. Others show a total lack o~ interest in everything about them. Some are unsympathetic and indifferent, and the mood may ,change frequently and even without ~any apparent cause. Some ma~. be cooperativd, orderly, and quiet, and give very little trduble, .While others are untidy, meddlesome, 'and rcstless; Very.'often aged people become resistive when they think they a~.e: being coerced by those who are younger. One may even hear such expressions as "That fresh young thing!" Some Solutions The psychology of persuasion may have t'o called iflt.6.play to meet behavior problems that arise. Various stages of senility can effect disposition changes that necessitate parti.cular ~tre.atnlent and care. A great need is companionship. At its best old age is°a lonely existence, to say the least, and must be brightened by cheerful com-panions and a staff with a sense of humor. Everyone, we are told, comes into this life with three strong fundamental drives or needs: (1) the need of security; (2) the need fcr affection; (3) the need to do things for others or to mean some-thing to others. Frustration of these ftlnda~nental needs, even among religious, causes tension which makes the individual uncomfortable. The persistence of this tendency may be the beginning of a. nervous condition. Disability and chronic illness in the ageing and aged religious are increasing. The burden upon the communities, is already very large. It clearly threatens to increase year by year, unless something effective is done now to better conditions. . Nou) is the Time What can be done now with our young and middle-aged to make them strong, able, and competent to contribute to the general welfare and happiness during their declining years instead of being a burden to their fellow religious and themselves. This is a matter of concern 171 SISTER MARY JANE Reoieu~ [or Religious to each and every one of us. The time has come to speak out. It is not enough for y, ounger members to feel the wave of sentimental pity that sometimes sweeps over them today. It is not enough to provide the physical comforts of shelter, food, and clothing for these aged religious. These dear ones must be understood now by their fellow religious. Now,. too, they must learn to understand them-' SelVeS, The author is not bitter, but sometimes has to count to ten or perhaps whisper an "Ave Maria" to hold back angry words provoked by thoughtless acts, looks, and sometimes even just the tone of voice directed at some aged ~eliglous. If only everyone remembered how little they like. to be singled out as special beings! The attittide.of others is often a great handicap. It may be the lack of belief, the misdirected ~sympathg, sometimes the lack of sympathy, or the failure to regiird the aged one as an individual. Abrasions and fractures may heal, but a broken spirit will not. Often the feeling of younger religious towards the aged of their community combines pity and confusion. The pity may express itself in remarks like: "Isn't that sad?': "Too bad, we ought to be thank-ful." "She's old enough to die." "She served her purpose." Is there perhaps "no room" for the old religious? Again, why do some always make the mistake of thinking that all aged religious are deaf? Needless to say, over-hearing such remarks will hardly boost their morale. If this is what we ageing religious must look forward to as our life-span is extended, we may find ourselves agreeing that there are worse things in life than dying young or dying suddenly. Belonging What the aged religious wants more than anything is to be treated like everyone else, to feel that he belongs to the community, that he is stil! wanted. Belonging is the big thing. The penalties of old age are aggravated with rustication, particularly when undesir-ability, is felt. The aged religious should not be ruled out of any social life in the community nor excluded from recreations. Even when they cannot do the things the younger generation does, they like to watch. It makes, them part of what is going on. An occa-sional movie or a short excursion is sometimes most welcome. Ap-propriate occupations and recreations should be provided. Some religious are more efficient at seventy than others at fifty. Old people --religious are no exception--should be kept as active as possible to I72 ' duly, 1951 COMMUNICATIONS' make rise of their skills and preserve their morale. When they are occupied, they are happy. Properly selected bccupational .therapy exercises arthritic hands and encourages the use of affected extremltle~, preventing complete invalidism. Most activities tend to. stimulate normal functions and to counteract the tendency to apathy, brooding, and introspection. Anything that will preserve the self respect and dignity of old age should be appropriated .for the rise of our elderly religious. They should not be permitted to lose their identity in an atmosphere of depressing gloom and finality. Sickness or dependence of any kind is often a. degrading enough experience in itself. Above all, we must not call attention to their infi~rfiities, if they have any, not even with affectionate attention. Sur.~ly, .it is their right and privilege to have their few remaining years happy and free from worry. The aged are here td stay for longer periods th~n ever. The living and working conditions, then, of our dear aged religious should be a considerate concern of every one. And besides, none of us is getting any younger. Communications Reverend Fathers : In the March issue of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I read with consternation ,the letter of,Sister M. Catherine Eileen, S.H.M. Since one might be misled by Sister's optimism (justifiable in her particular case), I think a little more information on the fenestration operatiori is essential.' A.few of Sister's statements also should be clarified. Sister writes: "There is fenestration surgery now to cure the type of deafness known as otosclerosis." However, men who have dis-tinguished themselves in this work say that it is only an amelioration of this disease and a restoration of serviceable hearing in suitable cases and,the~results are not as yet individually predictable. There are some who would disagree with Sister when she sa'ys, "Any otologist can diagnose this most prevalent kind of deafness." They hold that there is no method upon which one can depend with absolute certainty for the diagnosis of otosclerosis and that surgery on one afflicted with pathology wbich simulates but is n6t otoscler-osis will not improve the hearing of the individual. 173 COMMUNICATIONS "Some'time to re~over" may mean a period of years accompanied by a discharging ear. Whether or not the operation is successful, the ear will require care for the remainder of the patient's life, i.e., peri-odic visits to the ear specialist. This perhaps is not too great a price if the hearing is improved but rather a steep one if no improvement has resulted. Sister's" c~se does seem successful and I don't wonder she is so enthusiastic. To those whose hopes might have been raised by Sis-ter's zeal, I should say seek the advice of one who has an enviable reputation in the field of ear surgery. May I quote'one such otol-ogist, "In a suitable case the decision between operation and a hearing aid is a question which should be decided by the individual." Anyone who is further interested may write to the American Hearing Society, Washington 7, D. C., and get a copy of Hearing NewS, March 1948, from which I have taken the information con-tained in this letter. The New York League for the Hard of Hearing did not have any later available data on the subject. --SISTER HELEN LOYOLA, C.S.J. ' OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH M. COLLERAN, the translator of St. Augustine's Greatness of Soul and The Teacher in the "Ancient Christian Writers" series, is a professor of philosophy at Mount St. Alphonsus Seminary, Esopus, New York. SISTER MARY JANE taught both elementary and high school' for twenty-five years before entering the fidld of nursing. She is now an affiliate at the Brooklyn State Hospital for the mentally ill. ANSELM LACOMARA, a missionary and writer, is from Our Mother of Sorrows Monastery, West Sprihgfield, Massachusetts. WINFRID HERBST, au-thor and retreat master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is a professor of canon law at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. VACATION SC~HOOL IN SOCIAL ACTION St. Francis Xavier University, Antigonish, Nova Scotia, is offering a vacation school in social action for priests and seminarians from August 14-25. There will be lecture courses, combining exposition and opportunity for discussion, on the spiritual foundation of social action and on organizing the parish for social action. The director is the Reverend D. MacCormack. 174 Redemptorist: Spirit:ualit:y Joseph M. Colleran, C.SS.R. WHEN St. Alphonsus de Liguori, in 1732, gathered a groupof ¯ priests and brothers to form the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, he intended primarily to 6rganize a band of missionaries to evangelize the neglected country districts of his native Kingdom of Naples, and later, of other parts of the world, and everywhere to preach redemption and repentance to "the most abandoned souls." That its concentration upon this precise .field of apostolic activity constitutes the sole feature disting.uishing the con-" gregation from other religious institutes is the impression given, upon first reading, by the .explanatory constitutions which the saint added in 1764, and which, in this respect, remain the same today. "Every Religious Institute proposes to itself a two-fold end:the first is its own sanctification, the second the salvation of the people and the good of the Church. The former is general, the latter special, and it is by this that the various. Religious Orders differ from one. another . With regard to the second end, by which we ,are dis-tinguished from all other Orders and Religious InstitUtes within the Church, the Rule enjoins that . . . by preaching l~he Word'of God, we should labor to lead the people to a holy life~, especially those who, being scattered in villages and hamlets, are ,most deprived of spiritual help--and this is our specific end" (Constitutions 1 and 5). From the very beginning, howeverl Alphonsus himself practiced, and inculcated upon his spiritual family, a type'of spirituality that would best fit in with this apostolic purpose and would be a distinc-tive mark of his little congregation. This pattern of ascetical formation became more clear and systematic as time went on, and its principles were more exactly formularized as the saint undertook to publish for his followers and for the universal Church, his popular and practical treatises on ascetical and pastoral theology. St. Alphonsus realized deeply that fruitful apostolic activity and personal sanctity were inextricably connected. The sermon that is most effective is the one' that has been lived before it is preached. The asceticism that is most valuable to an apostle is the one that most readily overflows into works of zeal and charity. For that reason he insisted upon an exact proportion between the active labors of the 175 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Revieud for Religious ministry and the retired contefnplation of.the monastery. He would have his priests be "Carthusians at home and apostles abroad." It was always his ideal that missionaries spend no more than six months of each year in the actual work of the missions, "lest the active life overbalance the contemplative, to their spiritual loss" (Const. 108). He:would have the Coadjutor Brothers, who are engaged in prayer and domestic work, as well as the Sisters of the co.mpanion institu'te, the "Redemptoristines,", not only consecrate themselves to self-sanctification, but also offer their labors and devo~ tions vicariously for the success of the missions. Thus, the saint's pastoral and ascetical directions are inseparable, and together they indicate the spirit of the institute that would continue his labors and copy his way of living with God. The Facets ot: Love Our Lord tells us that the great commandment, for the apostle to preach and for the religious to practice to perfection, is to Iove the Lord thq God u2ith thai whole heart (Mark 12:30),°and St. Paul likewise makes it plain that all Christians must above all things bare cbaritg, which is the bond of perfection (Col. 3:14). While some masters of the spiritual life propose the practice of the various spe-cific virtues as means toward the acquisition of love--so that morti-fication, for example, arises from penance and leads to love--others, like Saints Bernard, Bonaventure, Francis de Sales, propose love as the beginning, th~ seed out of which the other virtues grow. X~v'ithin this second, so-called "seraphic" school, Alphonsus must be num-bered. 1 Love, he recognized, includes and requires both hope and fear. Against Jansenism, whose rigoristic spirit, despite its condemnation, was still deterring sinners from approaching God with confidence and was influencing confessors to demand signs of perfect love before they would grant absolution and permit Communion, the Saint inveighed vigorously. For his more benign practices, he was accused of laxity.At the same time, be fell prey to charges of severity from writers who, holding on to relics of Quietism, were averse to strenu-ou~ ascetical activity, under the pretext of passive indifference. He insisted that his missionaries r~alistically set before the people, to incite them to conversion and fervor, the reality of hell. And out of :tCf. A. Desurmont, C.SS.R., Oeuores Completes, tome 1, L'Art d'Assurer Son Salut. Paris, Libraire de la Sainte Famille, 1906. Introduc~don, p. 23 f. See also C. Keusch, C.SS.R., Die Aszetik des hi. Alfons Maria v6n Liguori. Pader-born, Bonifacius-Druckerei, 1926. P. 236 f. 176 July, 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPI'RITU~ALITY his own missionary experiences,' he formed judgments that other saints and doctors would probably not have expressed so boldly for instance: "If God had not created be!l, wh6 in. the whole world would love Him? If, with hell existing as it really does, the greater part of men choose rather to be damned than to love Almighty God, who, I repeat, would love Him were there no hell? And therefore the Lord threatens those who will not love Him, with an eternal punishment, so that those who will not love Him out of love may at least love Him by force, being constrained to do so through fear of falling into hell.''-~ The keynote of all his exhortations is'salvation, the individual participation in the merits of Christ's Redemption, and salvation is to be. worked out with fear and trembling (Philipp. 2:12). This fear, or more exactly, this love that involves fear, has a function in every grade of the spiritual life. In sinners, Alphonsus aimed to awaken fear by warning them of the eventual limit to the sins that God would forgive, and the limit .to the graces that God would provide. He tirelessly reminds them of the imminence of death, the terrors of hell, the imperative need of conversion. He warns them solemnly" of the fearful dangers of the "occasions of sin." "In regard t9. those striving for perfection', he also has recourse to the motive of fear, although it is prin.c.i.i0Mly the filial fear of losing God and of losing the special graces that are attached to a higher vocation. He voices the warning that although vocation to the religious state is a free gift that does.not imply a strict obligation, yet because special graces are attached i!o this state, it 'is most difficult to attain salvation if one neglects his vocation. Because perseverance is a grace that can be lost by failure to pray, and by lack of correspondence with grace, there is still reason, even in the state of pe.rfeCtion, to fear. (In his own congregation, he added to the three customary vows, a vow and oath of perseverance.) In re~ard to religious, too, he strikds hard at "tepidity," which he identifies as the habit of deliberate venial sin, and which he considers a state to be avoided" with fear. If the saint seems at times encouraging and at times severe, it is only because he is presenting, one at a time and each in its own clarity, the facets of love: confidence and fear. It is, however, con-fidence that predo.minates: "If we have great reason to fear ever-lasting death on account of our offences against God, wfi have, on 2Ditzine Love, II, in The Way of,Salvation and of Perfection, part III. Brookl~n, Redemptorist Fathers, 1926. P. 311 f. 177 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Review for Religious the other hand, far greater reason to hope for everlasting life through the merits of Jesus Christ, which are infinitely more able to bring tlon.ab°ut" ,,a°ur salvation, than our sins are to bring about our damna- The Practice o[ Love In complete harmony with the long tradition of saints and theo-logians, but with an insistence and clarity peculiarly hi~s own, Alphonsus points out that the measure and the practical test of love of God is conforroit~. , or better, uniformity, of one's will with the Will of God. "Conformity" ~.involves the acceptance of whatever God intend~ for us or permits to happen to us. "Uniformity" sig-nifies our blending our own will as it were, into the Divine Will, so that we .never desire but wh.'a~"[God desires, and there remains only the Will of God, which becomes our own. "The entire perfection of the love of God," the saint writes, "consists in making our own will one with His most holy will . The more united a person is with the Divine Will, the greater will be his love of God . This is the summit of the perfection to which we must be ever aspiring. This has to be the aim of all our work, all our desires, all our meditations and prayers.''4 For Redempto~rists especia.lly, as Alphonsus conceives their voca-tion, uniformity with the Will of God involves two essential require-me, nts. The first is negative: detachment from all created things. The second, more positive means, is imitation of Christ the Redeemer. Detachment While, of course, the conception of detachment is not new with Alphonsus, he gave it such emphasis and priority that he made it a distinctive characteristic of his ascetical doitrine. "Detachment" signifies the exclusion from the heart of everything that is inordinate and alien to perfection; it invplves the denial to self of anything material that does not serve sanctification; it implies the performance of unpleasant rather than of pleasant actions, and greater charity toward the ungrateful than toward the grateful, as signs and means of more ardent love of God; it even requires the sacrifice of certain 3Tbe Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, Introd., III, in The Hol~t Eucharist. Brooklyn, Redemptorist Fathers, 1934. P. 285 f. 4Conformit£l with the Will of God, I, in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, part-III, pp. 353, 358. 178 duly, 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPIRITUALITY virtuous actions when the higher demands of charity or obedience conflict with them.5 So important did he consider this purification of the heart as a preparation for advancement in perfection that in the little treatise, The True Redemptorist, which he wrote for his first members, he confines himself to this one point, and reduces the special requirements of any applicants to _a four-fold detachment: from the comforts of life, from relatives, from self-esteem, and from self-will. ¯ The practice of poverty he kept as strict and uncompromising as an active apostolate would allow; and the peculium and any other method of private control of material things, he excluded rigorously from the very beginning. The "common life" he. ev.e.r.,g.uarded jeal-ously, and he manifests his legal tr.aining in the deta~i'~'and precision of his enumerations of things allowed and forbiddeti." The things provided for common use, the amount of the portions at table, the size, number, and materials of various furnishings for the rooms be determined with exactitude and uniformity. Under the vow of poverty is incIuded the renunciation of a bishopric or any other ecclesiastical dignity or benefice outside, the congregation, unless the Holy Father commands its acceptance. Knowing from experience, sometimes from the bitter experience of defections from his infant institute, that the people of his time and land were often loath to permit their sons to make sacrifice of themselves in r~llgion, he was adamant about detachment from rela-tives. In answer to a request from a sick. subject who wanted to go home for the freshness of his native air, he replied that "home air is always pestilential to the religious spirit." When one who was ill offered to go to his relatives, to save expense to the community, he quickly answered that the congregation would sell ~ts books to take care of the sick. The strictness of the saint's rules and written'com-ments on detachment from seculars is balanced by his efforts to promote in his communities the hospitality and brotherliness of family life. Insistent as be is that individual desires be restricted to needs, he is even more insistent that .t.he community provide for every need to the extent that is possible. Self-esteem and independence of will he opposed as mortal dis-eases. Not only did be insist on individuals giving up all ambition for preferment and distinction, but he would have the'institute itself 5Detachment from Creatures in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, part II, XLI; also Divine Love, ibid., pp. 317-19. 179 JOSEPH M. CoLLERAN Review for Religious humbly accounted the least of all in the Church. Although the work for which each must be ready is preaching, he deprecated'anyone's: putting himself forward to preach without waiting for designation by superiors. "He only has the spirit of the institute," he wrote, "who enters it with the desire of practicing obedience, and,of sub-mitting peacefully to be put away in some corner without having any employment, happy that the good is done by others, while he himself will only do that which is.directly imposed upon him by obedience, without having asked for it.''~ "Re-living the Redemption The imitation of Christ that he proposed to his members is not only the general one that is obligatory on all, but a concentration upon the formally redemptive phase of Christ's life, the motto of his congregation being Gopiosa Apud Eum Redemptio. This emphasis affects both the active apostol~te and the ascetical development of Redemptorists. " They are to be employed only in those tasks that have to do directly with the salvation of souls, and indeed, so far.as is ordi-narily possible, only in those that Christ and His ApoStles per-formed. Hence the principal field of labor is the conducting of mis-sions, in ~vhich the essential and fundamental truths are preached, with a view to converting souls from sin to the state of grace, from inconstancy to perseverance in virtue, and from ordinary fidelity to Christian perfection. Occupations that are not in harmony with the work of redemption ifi the strictest sense, such as t~aching secular subjects in schools, parochial work, the conducting of orphanages, and the like, were deliberately excluded by Alphonsus, and have tra-ditionally been accepted only rarely and temporarily, as need arose and higher authority commanded. The apostolate of red.emption extends to all classes of people, but preference is strictly to be given to the poor,,, to those who have been abandoned by others, and to those found far from those centers of population where the means of salvation are more readily within reach. The style of preaching set by the saint is affective, rather than argumentative; simple, rather than ornate; apostolic, rather than academic. It was his aim to set OThe True Rederoptorist. This short work, with slight alterations to .adapt it to all religious, and with preliminary chapters on detecting and preserving vocations, was also published by Alphonsus under the title Counsels Concerning a Religious Vocation. This treatise is available in English, in the volume The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection. Broot').yn. Redemptorist Fathers, 1927. Pp. 381- 417. , The sentence which is here quoted from the Manua[e Presbyterorum C.SS.I~. does not appear in the reprint. 180 Jul~,1951 REDEMPToRIsT SPIRITUALITY up in the garden of the Church, not an exalted fountain that would impressively spray its streams on high, but a rivulet that would seep into the ground to nurture and fructify the lowly and the towering growths alike. Since He who saves is He who sanctifies, the Redeemer is the model of asceticism too. "The end of the Institute of the Most Holy Redeemer is no other than to unite priests to live together, and ear-nestly strive to imitate the virtues and example of Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, devoting themselves kpecially to the preaching of the word of God to the poor" (Text of Ruie, Introduction). The Passion is proposed as the customary subject of all evening meditations, and the central act of R~edemption is the.core of all Redemptorist devo-tion. It is likewise the pattern of their personal efforts at self-sacrifice: "the members of our Institute, after the example of the R~deemer, ought to spend their lives in thb endurance of sufferings, and should have a great hatred of a comfortable and luxurious life." (Const. 489). True it is that Alphonsus taught in his writings and inculcated in his religious various devotions in honor of Christ; he was, for example, one of the most ardent proponents of devotion to the Sacred Heart, which, in his time, was "opposed by some writers'and often avoided in practice. But crib and cross and altar are the principal themes of his devotional exhortations, the cross being central, the crib its forerunner, and the altar its keepsake. To devotion toward the Blessed Sacrament he made a tremendous ¯ contribution by his Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, originally in-tended for his own novices but in time spread throughout the world with a popularity that P~re Pourrat compares to that of the Imita-tion of Christ.7 Adoration, thanksgiving, and reparation are the sentiments he would awaken in his followers in regard to the con-tinual presence of the R~deemer among us. He could conceive of no devotion to the Redeemer that did not include devotion to Christ's Persoflal Relic of the redemption. It is true of Alphonsian asceticism, as it is true of practically every modern school, that it is not so liturgically centered as that of St. Benedict. Nevertheless, Alphonsus quite definitely recognized the primacy among devotions that belongs to the Mass. For the laity he wrote The Sacrifice of desus Christ, expounding the doctrine of sacrifice and the meaning of the prayers; for priests he published "a 7Cf. P. Pourrat, La Spiritualit~ Chr~tienne, tora~ 4. Paris, Gabalda, 1947. P. 456. 181 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Reoiew [or Religious book on The Ceremonies of the Mass, and another, a devotional one, on Preparation and Thanksgiving. The devout and affectionate prayers he composed have as their purpose the extension throughout the. day of the spiritual benefits of the Holy Sacrifice. He also recog-nized the importance of the official prayer of the Church, requiring the Divine Office to be recited in the various communities when the 'missionaries are not engaged in apostolic works. The Mother's Place St. Alphonsus was one of the principal expositors and defenders, in the dogmatic field, of the doctrine of the universal mediation of Mary. As a corollary of this teaching that all graces come through her hands, he taught that some devotion to her is morally necessary for salvation. In asceticism, also, he proclaimed that imitation of the Divine Redeemer involves, a wholehearted and practical devotion to His Mother. In both their personal lives and in their apostolic works, be would have Redemptorists Mary-minded. Preachers are urged to make mention of the intercession of the Blessed Mother in every discourse; every series of sermons or instructions is to include at least one talk devoted to her. From the time of Alphonsus until the definition of the dogma, Redemptorists were required to take an oath that they would defend and teach the truth of the Immaculate Conception; and under this title Mary is the principal patron of the congregation. The saint insists emphatically that Mary is the keeper of vocations; in his congregation the perseverance of every member is committed to the care of the Virgin most faithful. The Practice oF Virtues To facilitate and intensify the practice of virtues, Alphonsus pro-poses the method of concentrating explicitly on one at a time. His original rule was arranged in twelve parts, each of which set forth one virtue. Each "rule" wasit'self rather a short exposition of the relation of the virtue of the R~deemer and an application, rather ex-hortatory and devotional than diregtive and legalistic, to the life of a religious. Each rule is followed.by a "constitution" that gives more detailed and specific directions. In 1749, the Rules and Constitutions were put into a more formal a~d legal structure, but one constitution still directs the special practice of a single virtue each month. In the order of the months of the year these virtues are proposed: faith, l~ope, love of God, charity toward one another, poverty, chastity, obedience, humility, mortification, recollection, prayer, and self- 182 dul~ , 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPIRITUALITY denial with love of the Cross. These virtues, in turn, are to consti-tute the subject-matter of meditations, of particular examens, and of exhortations by superiors during the respective months. Such a division gives ease, simplicity; order, and solidity to the acquisition of virtue, and with all the members of the institute making an effort to concentrate upon one virtue at the same time, each individual is to find in the common activity a strong external support and example. Furthermore, since the different virtues are always considered as phases of the life of the Redeemer and as means of being united with Him, such repeated concentration upon each one serves to impress the mind with the richness of the Divine Model, and to strengthen the will to accept Christ's life as one's own. The Primacy/of Pra{/er The genius for simplicity and practicality that Alpbonsus .pos-sessed shines out pre-eminently in his teachings on prayer. The singular importance he attaches to prayer, he indicates succinctly in the title of one of his most famous works: The Great Means of Sal-vation and of Perfection. Well knovcn is the practical conclusion with which he cut through the learned and endless theological con-troversies on the efficacy of 'grace and predestination: "He .who prays is certainly saved. He who does not pray is certainly lost . Pray, pray, never cease to pray. For if you pray, your salvation will be secure; but if you stop praying, your damnation will be certain.''s No less does he insist that perfection depends upon prayer. He would have religious life a life of prayer, flowering into a continual "con-versation with God," where God speaks to the soul through His vis-ible creations and the impulses of His graces, and the soul responds with acts of love and gratitude. Prayer, for Alphonsus, is nothing less than the breath of super-natural life. Only by praying do we receive efficacious grace to per-form meritorious acts; only by pr~ying do we obtain the help to overcome temptations; only by praying do we acquire the light to know God's Will for us and thestrength to fulfill our vocations; only by praying do we acquire the grace of perseverance; only by praying, indeed, do we acquire the g~ft of praying sufficiently, and of being constant in making our requests. Mental prayer he considers morally necessary as a means to incite the prayer of petition, without which God does not grant the divine 8The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection. Brooklyn, Redemptorist Fathers, 1927. Part I, ch. 1, p. 49 and Part II, ch. 4, p. 240. 183 ,JOSEPH M. COLLERAN helps, the lack of which, in turn, frustrates all attempts to observe either commandments or counsels. For mental prayer manifests one's spiritual n'eeds, the dangers to his progress, and the measures of improvement to be adopted; and all these stimulate him to prayers of petition. So far as the "meditation" itself is concerned, he reviews and recommends the usual methods that had been developed and proposed by the saints, especially by Theresa and Ignatius. His special and distinctive concern, however, is not with the method of meditation, but with the "affections, petitions, and resolutions" which are to follow upon the considerations as the thread follows the needle, for these constitute the real fabric of mental prayer. In the affections, he would have repeated acts of love, humility, gratitude, confidence, and contrition. Petition should be concerned, above all, with for-giveness of past sins, increase of love, and perseverance until death. Resolutions should be practical, specific, and usually limited to the near future. Petition is the most important of all, and this is the meaning of the saint's striking statement: "To pray is better than to meditate"--that is, petition is of much more .value thanconsidera-tion of trflth. This stress upon acts of the will-rather than on acts of the intel-lect, this priority of affections over considerations, the saint himself illustrates in all his writings and, most notably perhaps, in his familiar Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, where there is frequent and easy transition from description and exposition to fervent iorayer. This procedure facilitates progress from the more common discursive type of mental prayer to habitual recollection and the prayer of simple regard, which prepare the soul for infused contemplation. The school of perfection of~ which Alphonsus is master is thus a simple and practical trainings~ool in uniformity with the Will of (Sod, by imitation of the Redeemer on the cross and closeness to the Redeemer in the tabernacle, by0~etachment from creatures, by prayer of petition, and by tender deybtion to the Virgin Co-Redeemer. There is no favor the saint would ask for his institute but the privi-lege of continuing the effects of Calvary's Cross; for he prayed: "Per-fect Thy work, 0 Lord, and fo~ Tby glory make us all Thine own; so that all the members of this Congregation, even to the day of judgment, may continue to please Thee perfectly, and to gain for Thee a countless number of souls." 184 -Quest:ions t or Mon :hly Recoiled:ion Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. yOU asked for it. You requested a series of questions for your monthly recollection~uestions that will elicit good resolves urging on to greater perfection in religious observance. And I am glad you realize there is no nobler ideal to strive for than perfect religious observance according to your constitutions. "Make an accounting of thy stewardship" (Luke 16:2). Do this in medita-tive self-examination. Take the following series, not exhaustive by ,any means, but sufficient for your purpose. Place yourself in the presence of Almighty God, before whom, at what hour you know not, you will appear for judgment, and in the presence of your guardian angel. Recall to mind the many graces and benefits bestowed upon you, an unworthy sinner, from the first mo-ment of your existence, and also during the past month. Then humbly consider the following points. 1. What is my service of God like? Do I render tribut~e of Mass and my Office devoutly, in a holy manner, in God:s presence, and without haste? Do I act on the principle that thoughtless haste kills all real devotion? 2. Do I do what is to be done before, at the beginning of, and after my daily meditation? 3. Am I able to look death in the eye without fear? How ashamed would I be to meet Jesus my Judge,now? What am I doing to make myself less ashamed, by living in continual recollec-tion and fraternal charity? 4. Do I try to increase in. personal[ love for Jesus by thinking often of His love for me? Can I, too, exclaim: ".In whatsoever, place Thou shalt be, my Lord and King, either in death or. in life, there ~ill Thy servant be"? (2 Kings 15:21.) o. 5. Whose room is the better, Jesus's (Bethlehem's cave) or mine? What can I do to make mine 19.ok more like His in poverty? 6. Do I recall that Jesus's hidden life says to me, "Family (com-munity) life means charity"? 'Am I trying hard to make others and myself happy in community life by adhering zealously to my prac-tice of increasing acts of charity and considerateness? 185 x,VINFRID HERBST 7. Am I giving to God what He so insistently asks of me: uni-versal, beautiful, fraternal charity and gentle helpfulness, especially in community life? Am I giving it all geneiously, despite the fact that. it is hard? 8. And am I giving Him this other thing for which He asks with similar insistence and which is equally hard: numerous ejacu-lations every day combined with the greatest possible recollection? 9. Have I the habitual disposition rather to suffer anything than commit a deliberate venial sin? Do I occasionally aspire to the third degree of humility, desiring to do and actually doing some hard things just because I want to be more like Jesus and out of love for Him, forgetting the reward? 10. Do I look upon all the rules, even the smallest, as the express will of God in my regard and observe them accordingly, realizing that I can save souls in this manner without even leaving the cloister walls? 11. Do I, for love of Jesus crucified, practice little acts of morti-fication daily, in folding the hands, in kneeling, and in a score of other simple ways? Do I restrain myself at table when I would eat too eagerly? 12. Do I recall that the body of Jesus was placed into a tomb "wherein no man had yet been laid," and do I place His living body into a heart that is new every morning in its purity and fervor, into a heart that is prepared for Him? 13. Do I strive to maintain within myself that spirit of joy and holy gladness without which there can be no real progress in the spiritual life? Do I show it exteriorly, as I ought to? 14. Do I value my vocation as my pearl of great price? 15. Do I try to love God because He is the Supreme Good, of whom the goodness of all creatures is but a faint reflection? It seems to me that it is because of such striving after perfection there are so many beautiful souls in this world. These souls make one resolve not to be outdone in goodness even while they almost fill one with despair of keeping pace with them. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscrip-tions. For further details please see inside back cover. 186 I:lections and Appointments Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ELECTIONS a.nd appointments to office are not a daily occur- .fence in the religious life but they are of supreme and lasting importance. The observations that follow concern congrega-tions of Sisters and Brothers. The law of the Code of Canon Law and the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions are almost the same for Brothers as for Sisters., These observations are not a complete canonical commentary but are limited to the more impor- ¯ .rant and, perhaps, more human elements of elections and appoint-ments. It is evident that each institute must follow it~ own consti-tutions, but some of the suggestions given below can be pondered by all congregations. They may not be contained in the constitutions, but they ycill not be contrary to the constitutions. I. The Elective Sgstern Religious chapters in virtue of canon 507, § 1 are obliged to observe the canonical norms for elections prescribed in canons 160- 182. The Code does not determine what religious in an institute are to be the members of a general or provincial chapter, and here we encounter the first difficulty in elections. Several diocesan congrega-tions of Sisters and a few pontifical institutes that retain the govern-mental structure of an independent monastery' of nuns have what is commonly called the direct vote. In other words every Sister of perpetual vows is a member of the elective chapters. The difticulty arises in this matter when the diocesan congregation wishes'to be-come pontifical or when the pontifical institute described above de-cides finally to conform its constitutions, to its actual life by a general revision. The direct vote must be g.iven.up. The Holy See demands the system of delegates for botl4?'the general and the provincial chapters. First of all, this difficulty is q.r should be practical for several congregations in the United States. The new quinquennial report for diocesan congregations is pellucid on the point that it is the will of the Holy See that very many of the diocesan congregations in the United States should become pontifical. The pontifical congregations alluded to above should institute a general revision of their constitu-tions. It does not seem reasonable to maintain that constitutions 187 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious devised for the relatively small community of one house of enclosed nuns are suitable for a congregation of several hundred Sisters, scat-tered in various houses and cities, and laboring in the active life. A protest against giving up the direct vote is really futile and unreasonable. If the Holy See has now for more than half a century constantly demanded the system of delegates, what is the utility of wishing to retain the direct vote? The Holy See corrects the pro-posed constitutions and will insert the system of delegates if it is riot in the constitutions. Is it likely that a protes} against such a pro-longed and.constant practice of the Holy See is reasonable? The Holy See, in 1901, published a plan of constitutions, called the Norrnae, on which the constitutions of lay congregations that wished to be approved by the Holy See had to be based. These Normae are still in effect in so far as they have not been modified by the Code of Canon Law or the later practice of the Holy See. The Norrnae demanded the system of delegates and prescribed that the general chapter was to be composed, of the general officials, of all the superiors of houses of at least twelve religious and one delegate elec.ted by each of these houses, and finally of one superior and one non-superior delegate elected by smaller houses, which were to be united into elective groups of at least twelve religious. The constitutions could also make former superiors general members of the chapter. If the institute was divided into provinces, the provincials and two elected delegates from each province supplanted the superiors and delegates from the houses. The provincial chapter was to be composed of the provincial officials and the superiors and delegates from the houses as described above for the general chapter. Further-more, we have published corrections of constitutions which show that the Holy See was demanding the system of delegates at least as far back as 1887.1 Diocesan congregations also .should have the system of delegates. It is an admitted principle that diocesan constitutions should con-form to those of pontifical congregations except in matters that are proper to the latter institutes. The system of delegates is in no sense proper to pontifical congregations. The mind of the Holy See on this point is sufficiently indicated by the plan of constitutions pub-lished in 1940 by the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of 1Analecta'Ecclesiastica IV (1896), 158, n. 12; VI (1898), 57, n. 1; Battandier, Guide Canonique, 4th edit., 1908, n. 300; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, 1st edit., 1904, n. 431. 188 Jut~, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS the Faith for diocesan missionary congregations. This plan pre-scribes the system of deleggtes. Reason itself manifests the necessity of the system of delegates. Some of the institutes that have the direct vote can have a chapter of four hundred religious and even more. This is obviously an inefficient number. The vote for the superior general can go to four ballots. Imagine the labor, difficulty, and weariness merely of counting six-teen hundred votes! Each vote must then be opened, examined, and recorded. Then follow six other elections, each capable of going to three ballots. How can a chapter of affairs be efficiently and expedi-tiously conducted when the assembly numbers several hundred? A pontifical congregation of twelve hundred religious divided into four provinces will have a general chapter, exclusive of former superiors general, of nineteen members. As opposed to this practice of the Holy See, a congregation of three hundred religious with the direct vote will have an elective chapter of approximately two hundred 'religious. The opposition of the direct vote to the practice of the Holy See, to reason, and efficiency is so evident that further argumen-tation would only torture the obvious. The principle of the system of delegates is not proportioiaal representation. A province of a thousand will have the same number of delegates as a province of four hundred. Proportional representa-tion is not necessary, since the purpose of a chapter is the good of the congregation as a whole. The capitulars should divest themselves of the narrowness of merely local interests, prejudices, and ambitions and consider only the interests of the entire congregation or prov-ince. It is of no import that the United States, or the East, or the West should get its turn at the office of superior general. Not only the one important principle but the one principle of the election is that the congregation should get the best possible superior general. A greater appreciation of and fidelity.".to this principle would not only effect better elections but would also' assure a more peaceful sequel to some elections. : The system of delegates brings to a chapter a sufficient and effi-cient number of capitulars, who are from all parts of the congrega- ¯ tion and can thus give the information necessary for a knowledge of the congregation as a whole. However, no elective system is an ade-quate substitute for the study, prayer, and purity of intention re-quired for a proper vote. Capitulars can rush into this most impor-tant matter unprepared, grasp at the first prominent name or most 189 " JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious striking personality, and give a vote that may be firm but not thoughtful. They should previously have studied all religious known to them who are possibly qualified for the consult one another on those qualified, but they are forbidden to electioneer. Prayer is never useless, but in preparation for an election it is especially necessary. Vital prayer brings a peaceful sleep to pre-judice and passion, and t~hese are the natural enemies of a proper election. The illumination and strength of prayer are required to vote for the one God wants rather than the one I like, to vote 'according to the will of God rather than according to the choice of any group. Prayer will bring purity of intention by which the vote will be given to the one most competent and will exclude self-interest, sectionalism, and nationalism. II. Elect Only When Necessary 1. General Officials. The designation of superiors and officials is a matter of internal government and thus appertains to the institute itself. The superio~ general must be elected by the general chapter, since this chapter is the only superior higher than himself in the insti-tute. The general councillors are also elected by the general chapter. This is the reasonable method of designation rather than appoint-ment by the superior general. No superior should choose his own councillors, since ther~ is danger that he would select only those of the same mind as himself or those who would be pliable to his own will. This would be opposed to the canonical concept of canon 105, 3°, which commands a councillor to give his opinion not only respectfully but also truthfully and sincerely. The purpose of a council is to preclude a government that would otherwise be purely individual. At least occasional dissent and opposition of councillors is inherent in the obligation of superiors of seeking the advice and consent of their council. In almost all congregations of Sisters and Brothers the general. chapter also elects the secretary general and the bursar general, but the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions also permits that these two general "officials be appointed by the superior general with consent of his council. In my judgment this is the preferable method. The secretary and bursar as such have no part in government. The secretary is merely what his name implies, a secretary and an archivist. The bursar is a treasurer and a bookkeeper. No attribute of these offices demands an election by the general chap-ter. I think we can go further and maintain the following principle 190 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS as practical: an elective chapter is a sufficiently compet.ent judge of the broad human qualities required for government but is not a good judge of specialized abilities. Chapters have elected secretaries who ~ould not type and bursars who knew nothing of keeping books. What has been said of the secretary and bursar is much more true of the director of schools, or studies, the inspector general of hospitals, and, above all, of the novice master who are elected by the general chapter in a few congregations. The procurator general in congregations of Brothers is also an official of specialized abilities. 2. Provincial Ogicials. The Code of Canon Law does not de-termine the method of designation of the provincial superior, the provincial councillors, or the provincial secretary and bursar. In theory at least the constitutions may determine whether the designa-tion of these officials is to be by appointment of the superior general with the con~sent of his council or by election in a provincial chapter. However, many things that are left undetermined in the Code are determined by the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions, although that is not completely, true in the present instance. Nevertheless, it is most worthy of note that the Normae described above mention only the appointment of provincial officials by the superior general. It is also significant that the two outstanding authors on the practice of the Sacred Cdngregation for the constitutions of lay congregations, Bastien2 and Battandier,"~ do not even mention the designation of provincial officials by election. Looking through thirty sets of constitutions of pontifical congrega-tions of Sisters and Brothers, I find that twenty-six appoint and only four elect the provincial officials in a provincial chapter. It thus ¯ appears more than evident that appointment is by far the preponder-ating method of designation in the practice of the Holy See. Reason itself commends the method of appointment. If the term of office of the provincial is three years, a provincial chapter is neces-sary every three years. Experience seems to prove that the election year is also a distracted year. This argument is not so fdrc~ful when the term of the elected provincial isosix years, as is sometimes pre-scribed in constitutions. The usual norm also is that the superi6r general or his delegate presides at a provincial chapter in which pro-vincial officials are elected. The territorial extent of congregation~ divided into provinces is usually very extensive. If the superior gen- 9Directoire Canonique, nn. 239, 3; 381; 387-389. 8Guide Canonique, n. 505. 191 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious eral believes that he should personally preside at these chapters, he is faced with a burden of travel that can interfere with the duties of general government. It is to be remembered that he is already obliged to make a canonical visitation of his entire institute at least once during his term of office. It is also the ordinary norm of constitu-tions that the superior general with the consent of his council must confirm the election of the provincial officials. These cannot validt~t enter on their offices before they are confirmed. For example, if a religious who is elected provincial superior places any act as provin-cial before being confirmed, that act is null and void (canon 176, § 3). Furthermore, the superior general should, at least outside of an urgent case, assemble his council to secure their vote (canon 105, 2°). The members of a council, at least ordinarily, are to give their opinion in an assembly of the council and not by individual and separate replies to the superior. It is certainly somewhat contradic-tory, as also inconvenient and difficult, that the superior general should ordinarily preside over a provincial chapter and yet ordinarily be present with his council to confirm the election. 3. Is a prooincial chapter necessar~l? A provincial chapter always elects the delegates to the general chapter. It is almost universally true that these delegates are two in number. In some institutes the provincial chapter also decides on the, proposals that are to be sub-mitted to the chapter of affairs in the general chapter, and in a few congregations the provincial chapter may make financial and dis-ciplinary enactments for the province, which, however, are not effective until they are confirmed by the general council. A provincial chapter brings together superiors and delegates from the entire prov-ince. It thus entails the suspension of other works by the members for the duration of the chapter and also the expenditure of a sufficient amount of money for travel. The latter consideration is of no small moment in congregations of ~is~ers and Brothers. It is a safe pre-sumption that such institutes are so poor that economy becomes a basic principle of conduct. It must be admitted that in the practice of the Holy See the pro-vincial chapter is almost the universal means of electing the delegates to the general chapter. However, th~ Holy See has also approved the following method. Those of active voice assemble in each house under the presidency of their local superior. Each vocal writes on the one ballot the names of the two Sisters that she elects as delegates to the general chapter. The local superior encloses these in an 192 dulq, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS envelope with her own vote, seals the en,~elope in the presence of the vocals, and immediately forwards it to the provincial superior or superior general. A meeting of the provincial or general council is held after all the envelopes have been received, and at this meeting the votes are counted, examined, and recorded. The two religious with the highest number of votes are the delegates, the next two are the substitutes. It is difficult to see why this simple method is not preferable when the only business of a provincial chapter is to elect the delegates to the general chapter. The two other matters within the competence of the provincial chapter of some congregations can be taken care of in other ways. The disciplinary and financial enactments, which must be confirmed by the general council, can be procured by the exercise of the right of representation to higher superiors, especially at the time of the provincial and general visita-tion. Nothing also forbids an individual religious from suggesting to the provincial superior or either of the two delegates the matters that he believes should be proposed to; the general chapter. 4. Local o~cials. The election of local superiors, councillors, and bursars is blessedly unknown in congregations of Sisters and Brothers. A universal statement is dangerous in such a matter and does not exclude isolated exceptions. III. Reelections and Reappointments 1. Mother General. The legislation of the Code on the duration of office ot: higher superiors is found in canon 505 : "The higher supe-riors shall be temporary, unless the constitutions determine other-wise." Higher superiors in institutes of women are the mother gen-eral, mother provincial, and the superiors of independent monasteries. The Code does not abrogate a prescription of the constitutions in existence before the Codd which ordains~hat the office of the mother general is to be for life. One or two congregations of Sisters have perpetual mothers general. Outside of the preceding case the Code commands that the office of mother general be temporary, but it does not determine the duration of the temlSorary term nor does it forbid the continued and immediate reeiection o'f the same mother general. These principles of the Code a~e very severely limited both by the directives and the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions. It is undeniable that the Sacred Congre-gation is opposed to the continued immediate reelection of the same mother general. The almost universa'l modern practice of the Holy See is to give the mother general a term of six years but to permit an 193 JOSEPH F~ GALLEN immediate reelection only for a second term. A few pontifical con-gregations prescribF a term of twelve years but do not permit imme-diate reelection. The Sacred Congregation manifested in a letter of March 9, 1920, that it is opposed to a reelection of a mother general c~ntrary to such limitations prescribed in constitutions of pontifical congregations and that it is also averse to granting a dispensation. All congregations of Brothers and diocesan congregations of Sisters whose constitutions prescribe the same term of office and contain the same limitations should follow this letter as a directive norm, since it manifests the mind of the Holy See. Some diocesan congregations assign a term of only three years to the mother general. This does not seem to be an efficient norm, at least in large congregations. It takes a mother general a year or more to acqu.ire full mastery of her extensive and detailed office. tions and the distractions of tion. A mother general who gibility. Some constitutions two six-year terms only when The three-year term also makes elec-elections too frequent in a congrega-has been out of office recovers her eli-ordain that she is again eligible after she has been out of office for six years. The matter of the reelection of the mother general has been taken care .of by the Holy See, and the mind of the Holy See at present is that the mother general should have a term of six years but she may be reelected immediately only for a second term. 2. The General Councillors. Ordinarily a congregation of Sis-ters has four general councillors. The first councillor elected is the mother assistant and vicar general. There is nothing in the Code of Canon Law concerning the duration of office or the repeated reelec-tion of the same general councillors. In the practice of the Holy See ¯ their term of office is the same as that of the mother general, but in this same practice it is almost universal that they may be reelected indefinitely. One consequence of this inde.finite elegibility is that in some in-stances and for a long period of time the mother general and the mother assistant have merely rotated in these two offices. Undoubt-edly the reason for this in many cases is that the two were the most competent religious in the congregation for these offices. It is diffi-cult to adcept this as a universal explanation of the fact. Rather fre-quently the impression can be gained that the capitulars did not carefully and thoroughly[ study the possible qualifications of other members of the congregation, and thus chose the effortless path of voting for those whose names were extrinsically prominent. To aid 194 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS such a study by the capitulars many constitutions prescribe that a list of all religious eligible as general officials is to be posted in a place accessible to the capitulars. This is done in many very large con-gregations. The two in question can be the most competent religious for the office, but we do not have to fall back on conjecture or imagina-tion to see a very talented, competent, and energetic mother general who would-not fit comfortably into the subordinate position of mother assistant. We can readily find a somewhat subdued person-ality who would be a success as mother assistant but who would not necessarily possess the vigor and firmness of will that all supe-riors general must at times exercise. A prolonged period of general government by the same two religious can also deprive a congrega-tion of the quickening influence of new ideas, a new approach, and a new enthusiasm that it may need. The difficulty in this matter could be solved by a more thoughtful, prayerful, and, perhaps, dis-interested choice by the capitulars of the religious most competent for the office. A law to preclude the rotation should be resorted to only if necessary, as can happen in a congregation in which the rota-tion has become ingrained to the detriment of the institute~ Some pontifical and diocesan congregations have enacted laws in this matter by directly forbidding that a retiring mother general be immediately elected mother assistant, and one congregation forbids even postula-tion in this case. The election of a retiring mother genera! as one of the other three general councillors can also create a problem. It is not difficult to imagine that the presence of her predecessor on the council would prevent a mother general from initiating or proposing to her council. a course of action at variance with that of her predecessor. Thus one congregation forbids a mother general to be elected general councillor before a lapse of six years. The continued immediate relection of the same four general councillors is justifiable and commendable when they are the reli-gious most highly qualified for these offices. However, the. repetition here also can be due rather to thoughtlessness than to a studied and prayerful choice. The study of tbe qualification~ for any elective office should go deeper than mere externals. General competence and not mere personality is the rational basis of selection. _An attractive personality is not always.the sign of a competent person. A careful study will also exclude a choice based on first impressions. The price 195 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Re~iew /:or Religious we pay for actions based 6n first impressions is usually delayed, but it is often exorbitant. It is a fact of experience that many people never free their judgment of the influence of externals and first im-pressions. Several congregations bare believed it necessary to place limitations on the repeated immediate reelection of the same four general councillors and thus include the mother assistant. These limitations take various forms: a)an immediate reelection for a second term only: b) reelection for a third term only after the lapse of six years out of office: c) at least at every ordinary general chap-ter two new councillors must be elected; d) a second immediate term only if they receive two-thirds of the votes, but not for a third term before the lapse of six years out of offce. These limitations are practically always applied also to the secretary and bursar general. Since these two officials as such have no part in governme~nt, it is most difficult to see any reason for limiting their tenure of office. 3. The Mother Prooincial. The law of the Code on the dura-tion of the offce of the mother provincial is the-same as that given above for the mother general. As far as is commonly known there are no perpetual provincials. The ordinary practice of the Holy See assigns a three-year term to the provincial and permits reappoint-ment or reelection for an immediate second and, in some instances, even for an immediate third term in the same province. Thus the Holy See has settled any question concerning the repeated reappoint-merit or reelection of the mother provincial. 4. The Provincial Councillors. The provincial councillors are ordinarily either two or four. The Code of Canon Law does not legislate on the term of office of the provincial councillors, and the practice of the Holy See permits their indefinite reappointment or re-election. However, we have here also the possibility of the same diffculties in the mere interchange of the offices of provincial and assistant provincial, in the presence of the former provincial on the provincial council, and in the protracted tenure of office by the same councillors. 5. Local Superiors. Canon. 505 legislates on the duration of office of minor local superiors. The adjective, "minor," is Used to distinguish local superiors from the superiors of independent monas-teries, who are higher superiors according to the Code, for example, the superior of a Visitandine monastery. The Code forbids a minor local superior to be designated for a term of more than three years. At the expiration of this time she may be designated, if the consti- 196 July, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS tutions permit, for a second, but not for an immedifite third term in the same house. In brief, the Code permits a local superior only two successive three-year terms in the same house. No furthe~ limitations are added in the general practice of the Holy.See in approving con-stinttions. If the Sister is local superior and also holds an office such as presi-dent of a college or supervisor of a hospital, she must be taken out of the post of local superior at the end of the second term. The six-year tenure can certainly create a difficulty in such a situation. The Code applies the law of canon 505 equally to active and contem-plative institutes. It is therefore reasonable to assert that the Code favors this temporary tenure primarily, if not exclusively, as regards the government of subjects in their religious life. The Code does not deny the principle that greater permanency in the direction of some. external works of religious institutes is desirable. The automatic six-year change of presidents of colleges and supervisors of hospitals can cause wonderment and lessened efficiency. It will not be easy for any institute and very difficult for a great number to find many able presidents and supervisors. The law permits only two remedies. A petition may be made to the Holy See to prolong the tenure as local superior. The difficulty of this solution is the prolongation of the six-year tenure in the government of the religious life of the com-munity, but experience seems to confirm the wisdom of the six-year tenure in this respect. The other solution is to separate the two offices and to have a superior of the community, who alone is bound by the six-year tenure, and a president or supervisor. The usual objection against this solution is that it creates a dualism of authority. The objection may really be founded on the fact that the system is some-thing new, but we cannot hold that change is of its nature evil and that the only good is the good old way. The greater extent and complexity in modern times of some external activity of an institute may demand a departure from the former method of direction. It is certainly nothing unusual in secular.life and in business for a .person to be subject to two authorities. Docility on the part of subjects and a reasonable working Out of the distinction of the two fields of authority by the superior and the president or supervisor can bring success to this system. A serious reason may exist for retaining a particular local supe-rior in office beyond the six-year tenure, for example, the completion of a buildi'ng whose erection was begun under this superior. The 197 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/or Religious Holy See will grant the dispensation for a serious reason. It is not in accord with at least the spirit and purpose of the law to make the asking for dispensations a general practice in the congregation. The constitutions of a few congregations emphasize this doctrine by pre-scribing: "Without a real necessity the mother general shall not" ask for a dispensation from a law so salutary for the religious them-selves and for the whole congregation." The limitation of the Code affects the reappointment of a local superior only in the same house. The Code permits indefinite reap-pointment to other houses, and constitutions approved by the Holy See rarely place any limitation on such reappointment. Subjects, however, have been known to grumble at the principle: "Once a superior, always a superior." It is also true that the volume of a grumble quite frequently exceeds that of the idea producing it. Higher superiors and their councils are obliged to secrecy, but evi-dently their justification for the repeated reappointment of the same religious is the dearth of others qualified for the office. This justi-fication must frequently be admitted. However, it is not true in a11 cases of protracted reappointment. We can at times suspect that general and provincial councils have not been at all thorough or per-severing in compiling a list of those qualified for government. Reap-pointment should also not be allowed to become so constant that the reappointment of every superior is expected and its absence is con-sidered a blot on her reputation. On the other hand, religious should remove even from the field of the sub-conscious the principle that a delayed or excluded superiorship bears the same stigma as a delayed or excluded profession, that every priest must have his parish and every Sister her house, that the one source of peace of soul of mature religious life is to be or to have been a superior, and that never to have been a superior is never to have been approved. These are in-sidious thoughts. They can and, perhaps, do cause great loss of peace of soul. It is a very evident but in no way dishonorable fact that all religious are not qualified for government. Few of us are in danger of psychic disorders because we cannot teach Hebrew, but it is most doubtful that the chair of Hebrew exacts the price of pa-tience, humility, charity, self-sacrifice, misunderstanding, and com-pletely unwarranted criticism that must be paid by the one who has the first chair in chapel "and refectory. General and provincial councils should not only prayerfully and perseveringly search for those best/qualified, but in this matter we 198 ! July, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS believe it is a prudent and efficient principle that they should gen-erally incline to a new appointment rather than an immediate reap-pointment to another house of a. religious who has completed a six-year tenure as a local superior. A few congregations have legislated in their constitutions on the reappointment of local superiors to other houses. One form of such legislation is: "After bearing the burden and responsibility of supe-rior for six years, it is necessary (essential, very helpful) that the Sister enjoy for at least three (six, one) years the liberty of subjects and the merit of obedience and submission." It can be doubted that a six-year interval is either necessary or expedient. An interval of from one to three years would be sufficient. A second form of the same legislation is: "A third (and fourth) immediate term may be permitted in another house, but at the expiration of three (four) consecutive and full terms of office, a Sister cannot again be appointed local superior before the lapse of at least a.year (three years)." This law inclines against a third or fourth term, since it merely permits such a term. The limitation of this law of four terms with an interval thereafter of at least a year is a generally practical and pru-dent norm. It could well be followed by all congregations as a direc-tive norm. 6. Local Councillors. The Code of Canon Law does not legis- /ate on the tenure of office of local councillors, and the practice of the Holy See permits their indefinite reappointment. In congregations the influence of local councillors is not very great and thus a pro-tracted tenure of office by the same religious is not apt to cause any serious difficulty. However, a change could at times be helpful to give new life to the house, to avoid the monotony of the same old things in the same old way, to soften rigor, to broaden under-standing, to add stability, and even to quicken to activity a govern-ment that has confounded patience with passivity and tolerance with lack of courage. Conclusion The moral of our story has been frequently expressed above. Careful study, sincere prayer, and absolute purity of intenti6n will assure worthy elections and appointments. This extends to the in-dividual religious, who can more readily transgress these norms in the election of the delegates. The legislation that has been enacted in several congregations to secure better elections and appointments manifests that at least these congregations thought there had been 199 "ANSELM LACOMARA Reoieu~ [or Religiou~ a neglect of these norms. Law is a necessity and is born of an abuse. Law also can never be an adequate substitute for human knowledge andintegrity of will. Some things are highly capable of arousing unworthy emotions, and one of these is elections. The best advice to any elector whether of a delegate or of the superior general is first pray, then study, examine the purity of your intention before God, and then vote. Growt:h in Grace Through t:he ,l::ucharls : Anselm Lacomara, C.P. THE life of grace may be compared to a steep hill which has a great treasure await.ing the climber when he reaches the top. Like every such climb, progress in grace meets difficult portions which are apt to slow us down and give us a.little hardship before we finally continue up. At times like this we need a helping hand and an inward drive to propel us forward. In His divine foresight and infinite mercy, Christ has provided us with a help which enables us to take care of every difficulty and overcome every obstaclee. The divine help is none other than Him-self in the Holy Eucharist. He is the help and the helper. We are never alone in walking the road that leads to the heights. Christ's strength and companionship are ours whenever we need them. His company is ever at our disposal when we need a helping hand over the rough spots, ggception of the Blessed Sacrament brings divine help into our lives. Fervent reception of Holy Communion increases our spiritual vitality, for it unites us to the source of all grace. The fruits of this union with Christ are mutual charity and peace. The Holy Eucharist enables us to keep faith with Christ, and with Christ's brothers and sisters through charity. Christ's grace flows through us as the life of the vine flows through the branches out to the tiniest leaf. That it should be thus is clear from the cir- 20O GROWTH THROUGH THE EUCHARIST cumstances in which Christ instituted the Blessed Sacrament and from His prayer on the first Holy T-hursday. Revelation of Love As Christ reclined with the Apostles for His final Passover Feast, the time of prophetic fulfillment had arrived. The sacre~t Jewish ritual was about to be celebrated by its Author and Object. Jesus was at the head of the table. Nearby was John who would not for-get this holy night as long as he lived. Exactly as the Law prescribed, the Master passed the ritual cup, partook of the lamb, consumed the bitter herbs, chanted the Psalms. Suddenly an unexpected hush fell on the group. The Master paused, looked upon His own and silently took bread into His holy and venerable hands. His voice alone broke the reverent silence: "This is my body which is being given for you;',do this in remem-brance of me." In awe and profound humil!ty the rough men received their First Holy Communion. The Master then took the cup, saying: "This is the cup of the New Covenant in my Blood, which shall be shed for you." The Apostles, each with deep emo-tion, partook of Christ's Precious Blood. While He was yet in them by His sacramental presence, Christ revealed the infinite riches of love stored in His Sacred Heart. Hear His words: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled or be afraid . . . I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-dresser. Every branch in me that bears no fruit he will take away; and every branch that bears fruit he will cleanse that it may bear more fruit. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it remain on the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for without me you can do nothing. If you abide in me, 'and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wil1,'and it shall be done to you . . . As the Father has loved me, I also have loved you. Abide in my love . . . This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. These things I command you, that you may love one another." Thus did Christ reveal Himself as our friend and our food, the help and the helper in the life of grace. He has willed to remain with us all days so that we are never alone, so that we never have to 201 ANSELM LACOMARA Review for Religious face life and its burdens by ourselves. He. is with us always to bear us up and to give us strength. The Bread of Life St. Augustine, in one of his sermons on the Passion, put these words in0Christ's mouth: "I am the food of the strong. Have faith and eat me. But thou wilt not change me into thyself; it is thou who wilt be changed into me." And St. Thomas develops the same thought in his commentary on Lombard: "The matter of the Eucharist is a food; the proper effect, then, must be analogous to that of food. He who assimilates corporal food transforms it into him-self; this change repairs the losses of the organism and gives it the necessary increase. But the Eucharistic food, .instead of being trans-formed into the one who takes it, transforms him into itself. It follows that the proper effect of the Sacrament is to transform us so much into Christ that we may say, 'I live, now, not I, but Christ liveth in me.' " Christ is truly the food of the soul in the Blessed Sacrament. Holy Communion is the "Sacred Banquet in which Christ is re-ceived." The source of all life and grace comes to share that same life and grace. In His sermon promising the bread of heaven, Christ said: "I am the bread of life. He that comes to me shall not hunger. I am the living bread which came down frdm heaven . the bread which I shall give is my flesh for the life of the world . . . Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you . . . My flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood, abides in me and I in him." It is evident that Our Blessed Lord never intended that the Holy Eucharist to be a reward for goodness of life. It is a food without which we cannot live any kind of a spiritual life. Christ certainly indicated His mind on the matter when He stated with so much force: "Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood you shall not have life in you." ;Faken simply as spoken, this can mean only one thing: just as physical life cannot continue with-out physical food, so also our spiritual life is unable to continue without the spiritual food of Christ's Sacred Body and Blood. Christ wants us to receive Him frequently and fervently that the life of grace within us may flourish and come to full flower. He has left Himself as the food of our souls'that we may abide in Him, and He in us, and all in the Father. Christ comes to us with His divin- 202 dul~,1951 GROWTH THROUGH THE EUCHARIST ity, His merits, and His infinite riches that He may become for the soul its light and its way, it wisdom and its truth, its justice and its strength. In short, He. who is life itself, comes to fill the soul with divine life that we may see things as He sees them and do things as He wants them done. Union with One Another in Christ The effect of sacramental union will make itself felt not only in the life of the individual religious but in the life of the whole reli-gious family. Christ said: "Love one another as I have loved you." When He gave that command, He and His own were united in a bond of love as they had never been united before. They had come together to worship the same God according to the same ritual. They had partaken of the same food, broken the same bread. Above all, they were united to Christ and to one another in Him because all had shared in Christ's Body and Blood. The supernatural vitality of the Eucharist made their souls throb (vith God's own life shared through divine grace. He in them and they in Him and all in the Father--a unity ineffable. This unity among the Apostles and the Master accomplished in the reception of Communion is a sign of the wondrous unity which exists in Christ's Mystical Body. St. Paul (I. Cot., 10:17) wrote: "XVe, being one, all partake of the same bread." Christ is still in the place of honor. The Pope and bishops are in their allotted place; priests, religious, and laity in theirs. All receive the same Lord; all are nourished by the same divine food. The life of Christ flows in a constant stream to all His members. He is still the vine, we the branches. The words of the Last Discourse still hold true: "the glory that Thou hast given Me, I have given to them that they may be one; I in them and Thou in Me; that they may be perfected in unity." ' Solidarity in Christ! This idea so permeated the early Chris-tians that their charity became their mark of identification. "Behold these Christians: how they love one another." They loved one another in Christ. They shared the same bread of life in conscious imitation of the scene which took place in the Cenacle. Their breaking of bread was a liturgical and ritualistic banquet at wlqich each received Communion. They were acutely conscious that the Master had promised peace and love to all who did in like manner. The secret of the intense love, that led them to sell what they had and give to the poor, was their mutua! love for Christ, their mutual 203 ANSELM LACOMARA life and sanctification in Him. Their reception of Communion was the strong bond which held them to one another in charity. Our first brethren knew that Communion was a vivid continuation of the Last Supper. Holy Communion is also our way of being ~nited with Christ as the Apostles and early Christians were. We partake of the same chalice, break the same bread. This cannot fail to produce the effect desired by Our Lord, our growth in grace and charity. When Jesus comes to us in Holy Communion, let us allow Him to work in us so that we may be truly one with Him. If we are one with Him, we will surely be one with our fellow religious,, for our hearts will be attuned to His words: "Love one another as I have loved you." If we are one with Him, His influence will make itself felt in our daily lives. The curt word will die in its utterance. The sharp reply will be softened on our lips. Our judgments will be kind. We will listen to and respect the opinions of others. Our outlook will be that of Christ, who "loving His own, loved them to the end." Christ wants ~to work wonders in our souls. He loves us more than words can say. His Body and Blood are given to us daily. He desires us to join Him in this Sacred Banquet that His spirit and His peace may fill our souls. If we receive Him in the same spirit of fer-vent generosity with which He comes to us, His priestly prayer, "Holy Father, keep in thy name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are," will have its glorious fulfill-ment in our souls. HERESY OF RACE One can scarcely mention any of the various ways in which Negroes are unjustly treated when he is confronted with the old objections: the-value-of-property-goes- . down-when-the-Negro-moves-in : the-parish-runs-down-if-Negroes-are-not-kept-out ; would-you-want-your-sister-to-marry-a-Negro? : the-black-baby-in-the-seventh-gen-eration; white-students-would-leave-the-school-if-Negroes-were-accepted; hospitals-would- go-bankrupt-if-Negro-patients-were-admitted ; white-patrons-would-boycott-the- hotels-if-Negroes-were-served; and so forth. "All these woulds and ifs," writes Sister Mary Ellen O'Hanlon, O.P., in The Heresy of Race, "and many more, so repeatedly rolled off loose tongues, are false conjectures for which no real or honeit experiences have ever given any proof/' The Heresy of Race. which deals with these old objections and other points regarding the true Christian attitude towards race relations, can be obtained from: Rosary College Book Store, Rosary College, River Forest, Illinois. Single copies, 50 cents. Reduced rates for quantity orders. 204 Ins :rucfion on Sponsa Christi [EDITORS' NOTE: We present here the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious on the practical application of the Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa Christi. This document was given at Rome under date of November 23, 1950, and pub-lished in Acta Apostolicae Seclis, under date of 3anuary 10, 1951, pp. 37-44.] I. Among the remarkable documents by which our Holy Father, Plus XII, by Divine Providence, Pope, has willed to adorn and crown the Holy Year as with so many precious jewels, assuredly not the least is the Apostolic Constitution, $loor~sa Christi, which deals with the renewal and advancement within God's Church of the holy and venerable institution of nuns. This Sacred Congregation; which as its appointed task, promptly and faithfully assists th~ Holy Father in all things pertaining to the state of perfection, has reverently and joyfully received from him the commission of putting into execu-tion this Constitution, truly remarkable from so. many points of view, and of making its application assured and ea.sy. II. To fulfill this honorable duty, the Sacred Congregation has assembled in this Intruction some practical norms for those points which offer greater difficulty. III. Now, the points in the Apostolic Constitution which offer difficulty and hence require special clarification are:. (I) those which refer to the major or minor cloister of nuns; (2) those which deal with the establishment of federations and the limitation of auton-omy; (3) finally those which have to do with obtaining and co-ordinating productive labor for the monasteries. I. MAJOR AND MINOR CLOISTER FOR NUNS IV. The Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa ~hristi (art. IV), pre-scribes a special cloister for monasteries of all nuns which differs from the episcopal cloister of congregations (c. 604), and which, according to the general ngrm of the law, is papal, as is the cloister of orders of men (c. 597, § 1). In fact, regarding a number of prescriptions dealing with both the entrance of externs into the limits of the cloister and the going out of the nuns from the same, the regu-lations are stricter than those which control the papal cloister of men. V. Hereafter there will be two types of papal cloister for nuns: the one major, which is reserved for monasteries in which solemn vows are taken and a purely contemplative life is led, even though the number of the nuns may have decreased; the other mirror, which 205 INSTRUCTION Reoieu3 for Religious as a rule, is applied to monasteries in which a life is led which is not exclusively contemi~lative, or the nuns take simple vows only. A. Major Papal Cloister VI. Major papa/ cloister is that which is described in the Code (cc. 600, 602) and accurately defined by the Sacred Congregation in its Instruction, Nuper edito, approved by the late Pop~ Pius XI on February 6, 1924. This cloister is fully confirmed in the Constitu-tion, Sponsa Christi, safeguarding the following declarations which the Constitution empowers the Sacred Congregation to make (art. IV, § 2, 1°) 'so that its observance may be prudently adapted to the needs of the times and to local circumstances. VII. Nuns bound by major papal cloister, after their profession, by reason of the profession itself and by the prescription of ecclesi-astical law, contract a grave obligation: 1° of remaining always within the precincts of the monastery which have been put within the definite limits of the cloister, so that they may not leave the cloister ~ven for a moment under any pretext or condition without a special indult of the Holy See, except in those cases only which are provided for in the canons and instructions of the Holy See, or which are envisioned in the constitutions or statutes approved by the Holy See itself. 2° of not admitting to the parts of the monastery subject to the law of cloister any. person whatsoever no matter of what class, con-dition, sex, or age, even for a moment, without a special indult of the Holy See. Certain exceptions, however, of persons and cases are expressly made in the canons and in instructions of the Holy" See, as well as in the constitutions or statutes approved by it. VIII. 1° Indults and dispensations to leave the major cloister after profession (VII, 1°) or to enter it or to admit others (VII, 2°) are reserved exclusively to the Holy See, and can be granted by it alone or in its name and by its delegation. 2° Reasons for obtaining dispensations should be proportionately grave, due consideration being given to the circumstances of cases, times, and places, keeping in mind the practice and style of the Roman Curia. IX. 1° The faculty to dispense may be given ab bomine, either for a definite period of time for all cases occurring during it, or for a certain number of cases. There is nothing; however, to hinder the granting of certain permissions habitually in particular law having 206 duly, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI legitimate approval, for instance, in the constitutions, in the statutes of federations, and in similar documents.' 2° Whether granted ab homine or by general or particular law, indults and dispensations must determine, according to the instruc-tions of the Holy See affd the practice and style of the Roman Curia. the conditions and precautions .to which the dispensation is subject. X. The penalties against those who violate the laws of cloister remain as stated in toe Code (c. 2342, nn. 1, 3). B. Minor Papal Cloister ~ XI. Minor papal cloister: 1° retains intact the fundamental rules of the cloister of nuns, inasmuch as it differs greatly from the cloister of congregations (c. 604) as well as from that of orders of men (cc. 598-599) ; 2° must safeguard and facilitate for all the observance and care of solemn chastity; 3° it must protect and efficaciously rosier the contemplative life of the monastery; 4° The employments which the Church hag designedly entrusted to these monasteries must be so harmonized with the contemplative life within the confines of the minor papal enclosure that the latter may by all means be preserved while these works are properly and advantageously performed. 5° In monasteries which engage in approyed works, the pre-scription of canon 599, § 1 for the cloister of or'ders of men, which is likewise applied by canon 604, § 2 to the cloister of congregations, is to l~e strictly and faithfully observed, in such a way that a clear and complete separation be ever maintained between buildings or sec-tions thereof set apart for the living quarters of the nuns and for the exercises of the monastic life, and those parts made over to necessary works. XII: Minor papal cloister includes: 1° a grave prohibition against admitting into the parts of the house set aside for the community of nuni and subject to the law of cloister (c. 597) any persons whatsoever who are not members of the community, regardless of class, condition, sex, or age, according to canon 600; 2° another grave prohibition forbidding the nuns after profes-sion to leave the precincts of the monastery, in the same way as nuns subject to major cloister (n. VII-IX). XIII. 1 ° The passage of the nuns from the parts reserved to the 207 INSTRUCTION Revieu~ for Religious community to the other places within the precincts of the monast~ery destined for the works of the apostolate is allowed for this purpose alone, with the permission of the superior, and under proper safe-guards, to those who, according to the norms of the constitutions and the prescriptions of the Holy See, are destined for the exercise, of the apostolate in any way. 2° If by reason of the apostolate, dispensations from the pre-scriptions of n. XII, 2° become necessary, they may be given only to nuns and other religious who are lawfully assigned to the employ-ments, under grave obligation in conscience for superioresses, for or-dinaries, and for superiors regular, to whom the custody of the cloister is entrusted (c. 603). XIV. Admittance of externs to the parts of the monastery de-voted to employments of whatever kind is governed by these norms: 1 o Habitual admittance is allowed to, pupils, boys or girls, ot to other persons in whose favor ministries are performed, and to such women only with whom necessary contact is demanded by reason and on the occasion of such ministries. ' 2° The local ordinary should, by a general or habitual declara-tion, define as such those exceptions which must be made of necessity, for instance, those,ordinarily required by the civil law for the pur-pose of inspections, examinations, or for other reasons. 3° Other exceptions, should such at times seem truly necessary in individual cases, are reserved to the express grant of the ordinary, who is in conscience bound to impose prude.nt precautions. XV. 1° Nuns who unlawfully leave the precincts of the mon-astery fpso facto incur excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See according to canon 2342, 3°, or, by express grant reserved to the local ordinary. 2° Nuns who illicitly leave the parts of the monastery reserved to the community and go to other places within the precincts of the monastery, are to be punished by the superior or by the local ordi-nary, according to the gravity of their fault. 3° Those who illicitl.y enter the parts of the monastery reserved to the community and those who bring them in or allow them to enter, incur excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See. 4° Those who illegitimately enter the parts of the monastery not reserved to the community, as well as those who bring them in or permit fhem to enter, are to be severely punished according to the gravity of their fault by the ordinary of the place in which the mon-astery is located. 208 duly, 1951 SPONSA (~HRISTI XVI. Dispensations from minor papal cloister, except those ad-mitted by law, are, as a rule, reser~red to the Holy See. Faculties more or less broad, as circumstances seem to require, can be granted to ordinaries either ab homine or in the constitutions and statutes. II. FEDERATIONS OF MONASTERIES OF NUNS XVIL Federations of monasteries of nuns, according to the norm of the Constitution, Sponsa Christj" (art. VII, § 2, 2°), are earnestly recomrriended, both to avoid the harmful effects which both more grievously and more readily befall entirely independent monasteries, and which by union can to a great extent be avoided more effectively, as well as to foster both their spiritual and temporal interests. Although, as a rule, federations of monasteries are not imposed (art. VIII, § 2, 2°), nevertheless, the reasons which would recom-mend them in general, could, in particular cases be so strong that, everything considered, they would be deemed necessary by the Sacred Congregation. ~' : XVIII. Federations of mona~'teries are holt to be impeded by the fact that the individual monasteries which intend to form them are subject to superiors regular. Provision will have to be made for this common subjection in the Statutes of the Federati(~n. XIX. When, because of the intention of the .fou~de~ or for any other reason that may occur, there already exists some.kind of begin-ning of a union or federation of monasteries of the same order or institute, anything already done or outlined must be taken into ac-count in the development of the federation itself. XX. A federation of monasteries in no way directly affects the relation, already in existence according to the common or to the par.- ticular law, of the individual monasteries to the local ordinaries or to the superiors regular. Hence, unless an.express and lawful deroga-tion is made to this rule, the powers of ordinaries and superiors is neither increased nor diminished nor changed in any way. XXI. The statutes of a federation may grant certain rights over the federation to ordinaries and to superiors which as a rule do not beloiag to them, leaving intact generally the right over each individual monastery as such. xxII. The general and principal purposes and advantages of unions and federations are the following: 1° the legally recognized facuIty and the canonically sanctioned duty of a mutual fraternal assistance, both in the conservation, de- 209 INSTRUCTION Reoieu~ [or Religious lense, and increase of regular observance, and of domestic economy, as well as in all other th~ngs; 2° the establishment of novitiates common to all or to a group of monasteries for cases in which, either because of a lack of person-nel necessary for the directive offices, or because of other circum-stances moral, economic, local, and the like, a solid and practical spir-itual, disciplinary, technical, and cultural training cannot be given in the individual monasteries; 3° the faculty and the moral obligation, defined by certain norms and accepted by federated monasteries, of asking for and of mutually interchanging nuns who may be necessary for government and training; 4° the possibility of and freedom for a mutual temporary ex-change or ceding of subjects, and also of a permanent assignment, because of health or other moral or material need. XXIII. The characteristic notes of federations which are to be considered essential when taken together are enumerated as follows: 1 o From the source from which they spring and [rom the author-ity from which as such they d.epend and which governs them directly, federations of nuns are of pont[lical right according to the Code (c. 488, 3°). Hence not only their establishment, but also the approval of their statutes, and the enrollment of monasteries in, or their separation from, a federation, belongs to the Holy See exclusively. Provided all the rights over individual monasteries granted by the Code to ordinaries are safeguarded, federations are subject to the Holy See in all those matters in which pontifical institutes of women are directly subject to it, unless a lawful exception has been expressly provided for. The Holy See may commit certain items of its pre-rogatives, either habitually or in single instances, to its immediate assistants or delegates for federations. 2° B~t reason of territory or of extension, federations of monas-teries are to be established preferably along regional lines, for easier government, unless the small number of monasteries or other just or proportionate causes demand otherwise. 3° By reason of the moral persons which constitute them, inas-much as they are collegiate persons (c. i00, § 2), federations are composed of monasteries of the same order and of the same internal observance, though they need not necessarily depend on the same local ordinary or superior regular, nor have the same kind of vows or form of cloister. 210 dulq, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI 4° Confederations of regional federations can be allowed if need, or great advantage, or the traditions of the order recommend them. 5° From the standpoint ~f the independence of the monasteries, the bond which holds the federated monasteries together should be such that it does not interfere with their autonomy, at least in essen-tials (c. 488, 2°, 8°). Although derogations from autonomy are not to be presumed, they can be granted with the previous consent of each monastery, provided that grave reasons seem to recommend or demand them. XXIV. All ~ederations of monasteries of nuns must have their own statutes subject to the approval of the Holy See before they can be established. The statutes must accurately determine the following: l° the aims which each federation proposes to itself; 2° the manner in which the government of the federation is to be regulated, either with regard to constitutive elements, as for ex-ample, president, visitators, council, and the like; or as to the manner of appointment to these offices; or, finally, the power of this govern-ment and the manner of conducting it; 3° the means which the federation should use that it may be able to carry out its aims pleasantly and vigorousl~; 4° the conditions and means to be used in putting into execu-tion the prescriptions regarding the mutual interchange of persons laid down in art. VII, § 3, 2° of the Constitution, Sponsa Christi: 5° the juridical standing of nuns transferred to another mon-astery, whether in the monastery from which the transfer takes place, or in that to which it is made; 6° The economic help (o be given by each monastery for the common enterprises of the entire federation; 7° The administration of the common novitiate or of other works common to the federation, if there be such. XXV. 1° In order that the Holy See may be able to exercise a direct and efficacious vigilance and authority over federations, each federation can be given a religious assistant, as need or usefulness may suggest. 2° The religious assistant will be appointed by the Sacred Con-gregation according to the statutes, after all interested parties have been heard. 3° In each case his duties will be accurately defined in the decree of appointment. The principal ones are as follows: to take care that the genuine spirit of a profoundly contemplative life as well as the 211 INSTRUCTION spirit proper to the order and institute be securely preserved and in-creased; likewise, to see that a prudent and exact government be established and preserved in 'the federation; to have regard for the solid religious training of the novices and of the religious themselves; to help the council in temporal matters of greater moment. 4° The Holy See will delegate or commit to the assistant such powers as may seem opportune in individual cases. III. MONASTIC LABOR XXVI. 1° Since, by the disposition of Divir~e Providence, the temporal necessities of life are at times so pressing that nuns seem morally compelled to seek and accept labors beyond their accustomed ones, and even perhaps to extend the time given to labor, all should as true religious submit themselves promptly and humbly to the dis-positions of Divine Providence, as the Christian faithful do in like circumstances. 2° They should do this, however, not anxiously or capriciously or arbitrarily, but prudently as far as may seem truly necessary or .suitable, seeking with simple hearts a balance between their under-standing of fidelity to the letter and to tradition, and a filial subjec-tion to the permissive and positive dispositions of Divine Providence. 3° Keeping these directives in mind, let them submit to ecclesias-tical or to religious superiors, as the case may require, whatever ar-rangements seem advisable. XXVII. Ec~iesiastical and religious superiors must: 1° by all means seek and obtain profitable labor for the nuns who need it, and, should the case require it, also employ committees of pious men or women, and, with due caution and prudence, even secular agencies established for such purposes; 2° maintain a careful supervision of the quality and orderly ar-rangement of the work, and require a just price for it; 3° to superintend diligently the coordination of the activities and the labor of individual monasteries so that they may help, sup-ply, and complement one another, and see to it that every vestige of competition is entirely avoided. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~s now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscrip-tions. For further details please see inside back cover. 212 uesUons and Answers In the March issue of the Review Sister Digna wrote about men÷al and other.tests for candidates aspiring to the religious life. Would you kindly 9ire "Fhe name and address of the publishers of these tests? Sister Digna prepared the detailed description of the following tests which she suggests as helps to'Ocarry out the program outlined in her article. Since we received these lists some tiptoe ago, a number of the prices may have been changed. ~; 1. American Council on Education Psychological Examination for ttigh School Students. This is a time-limit test. Time: 54 min- o" utes. Norms: Comprehensive norms for e~ich annual edition are pub-lished in series V of the American Council on Education Studies for. April of'the school year in which the test is current. Authors: Louis L. Thurstone and Thelma Gwinn,Thurstone, University of Chicago. Publishers: The American Council on Education, 744 ,IacksowPlace, Washington, D.C.; distributed by Science Research Associates, 1700 Prairie Avenue, Chicago, Illinois. Cost: $.07 per test, including test booklet and answer sheet. Additional answer sheets, $.02 each. Manual, scoring keys, and norms, $.25. ~ ,, 2. The Otis Self-Administering Tests of Mental.Abilit.~. These are time-limit tests, consisting of a Higher E~amination designed for grades 9-12 and for college students; and an Inter~edlate t~xamina-tion designed for grades 4-9. Norms: Age and grade norms fur-nished in the manual, as well as charts for .translating raw score to percentile rank, or to Binet Mental Age and I.Q. Author: A. S. Otis. Publisher: World Book Company, Yonkers-on-Hudson, New York. Cost: $1.25 per package of 25 tests, including manual, scoring key, and norms; specimen set, $0.35. Four alternate forms of each test are available. 3. Wechsler-Bellevue Intelligence Scale by David Wechsler. An individual examination including eleven tests for use at all ages from adolescence (age 10) up to 70 years. Five tests are verbal: Similari-ties, Comprehension, Information, Arithmetic, and Memory for Numbers. Five are nonverbal performance tests: Object Assembly (profile, Manikin, and Hand in Form I; face, horse, and auto in Form II), Block Design, Picture Completion, Picture Arrangement, and Digit-Symbol Substitution. An alternate test of Vocabulary is QUESTIONS AND .,~NSWERS Re~ieu~ for Religious provided. A feature of the test is that the IQ can be obtained from as few as eight tests without serious loss in reliability. Scores on each test are converted into star~dard scores. The total of these scores is converted into IQ equivalents by means of a table which takes into account the age of adults. The materials appeal to testees at all ages and levels of ability and are well-suited for classification of .both normal and abnormal individuals. Text, "The Measurement of Adult Intelligence," $2.60. Form I. Test Materials, including 25 Record Blanks, $14.00. The text contains the administrative man-ual for Form I, and must be ordered separately. Form II. Test Ma-terials, including 25 Record Blanks and the manual required for ad-ministering this form, $15.50. Manual alone, $2.00. Specify Form I or Form II. Record Blanks, sold only in packages of 25 and 100 copies. Packages of 25--$1.25 each. Personality Tests . 4. The Adjustment Int~entorg by Hugh M. Bell. A diagnostic tool to .aid the counselor and guidance worker in discovering the sources of personal and social maladjustment in students and adults. The separation of adjustment into four types (home, health, social, and emotional) aids in the location of specific adjustment'difficulties. Scoring requires about three minutes. Tentative norms are given for high school students, college students, and adults of both sexes. Adult form also has scoring fbr occupational adjustment. Untimed. Forms: Student and Adult. Specify form desired. Sold only in packages of 25, $1.85, and. packages of 100, $5.75. Manual and keys included. Specimen Set,'~cluding both forms, 35 cents. Regular IBM answer sheets--for use with regular booklet of questions. Same answer sheet used for both Student and Adult forms. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.10, and packages of 500, $7.75. Stencils for both hand~ and machine-scoring; Student form, $1.10 per set, Adult form, $1.30 per set--specify form de-sired. Nontimed. Author: H. M. Bell, Chico, California, State Col-lege. Publisher: Stanford University Press, Stanford University, California. Cost: $1.85 per 25; $1.75 per 100 machine-scorable answer sheets; specimen set, $0.15. 5. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality InuentoW by Starke R. Hathaway and J. Charnley McKinley. A diagnostic test con-structed entirely on the basis of clinical criteria. At present the au-thors have made available nine scales: Hypochondriasis, Depression, Hysteria, Psychopathic Deviate, Masculinity and Feminity, Paranoia, 214 dul~,1951 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS " Psychasthenia, Schizophrenia, and Hypomania. Four other scores are ascertained: the Question score, the Lie score, the Validity score, and the K score (a suppressor variable refining the discrimination of five of the clinical variables)i Untimed. Individual Form Forms: Individual and Group. Spec.ify form desired. Individual Form ("The Card Set"). Box of 550 item cards with three sorting cards marked True, False, or Cannot Say. Sturdy wooden box. $12.50. Manual, containing description (including complete list of questions), the6ry, administration, and norms, with supplement ex-plaining how to use the K score. $1.00, when ordered separately. 75 ccfits each when ordered in lots of 10 or more for class use. Keys. Eleven transparent guides made of map cloth, one for each of the nine scales, one for the F or Validity score, and one for the K score. $7.50 including manual. Recording Sheet for recording the subject's sorting and the profile of his scores. One sheet needed for each case. Sold only in packages of 50. 1-9 packages--$2.50.each. ¯Group Form Group Form ("The t~ooklet Form"). The Group Form has been prepared for use witb~IBM answer sbegts, thus permitting either hand-scoring or machineT~coring. The,authors recommend that the Group Form be used only with person'S~°who are still in school or who have had recent contact with test materials in group form. For clinical cases or small groups, the Individual Form is considered de-sirable. Booklets for Grghp Form are printed on heavy stock and will stand repeated use. 1-24 booklets, 25 cent~;e0db; packages of 25, $5.50 each. Manual. This is the same as for the Individual Form but has a supplement. $1.00 when ordered separately. 75 cents each when ordered in lots of 10 or ran.re for class use. Key:;. Envelope contains manuaI, supp!ementary manual, and 16 hand-scoring stencils, $4.00. Similar envelope with machine-scoring stencils, $4.00. Specify which i~ desired. Answer Sheets. IBM answer sheets which can be either machine- or hand-scored. One copy needed for each testee. For each answer sheet ordered, one Pro-file and Case Summary form is. included. Answer sheets are sold onIy in packages of 50, $3.00 each, and packages of 5~)0,.$23.00 each. Extra Profile and :Case Summary forms, for duplicate reports, $1.60 per package of 50. 6, Minnesota Personality Scale by 3ohn G. Dadey and Walter 3. blanks, $:50 per 25;-scoring keys, $1.10 for one key, $.80 for 2 to 215 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS McNamara. ' Five aspects of personality are measured: Morale, Social Adjustment, Family Relations, Emotionality, Economic Conserva-tism. These are based on a factor analysis of several pers6nality tests. Each item is scored for only one scale and each scale is highly reliable. Norms are based on almost 2000 university students. The questions are in reusable booklets. The answers are marked on IBM answer'sheets which can be either hand- or machine-scored. Grades 11 through college. Time, no li,mit, about 45 min. Forms: Men and Women. Order booklets, answer sheets and scoring stencils separately. Specify form (Men's or Women's) and quantity of each. Booklets. Sold in packages of 25. 1-9 packages--S2.50 each. 10 or more packages--S2.25 ',each. Answer sheets. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.80 each, ~tnd packages of 500, $15.00 each. Same sheet is used for either Men or Women. Manual and hand-scoring stencils must be ordered separately, 50 cents. Specify form desired. Manual and IBM machine-scoring stencils, $1.25 a set. Specify form. desired. Specimen Set, either form, 60 cents. Specify form desired. Men's or Women's. 7. The Perso, nality Inuentor~ by Robert G. Bernreuter. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California. Designed to measure six as-pects of personality at~one administration: Neurotic Tendency, Self-sufficiency, Introversion-Extroversion, Dominance-Submission, So-ciability, Confidence. Norms for both men and women have been established for h.igh school, college, and adult ages. Untimed. Sold 'only in packages of 2.5, $1.85, and packages of 100, $5.75, with manual, norms and set of keys. Individual Report Sheets, sold only in packages of 25, 35 cents. Specimen Set, 35 cents. IBM answer sheets available. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.10 each, and packages of~500, $7.75 each. Machine-scoring keys, $2.60 per set; cannot be used for hand-scoring. 8. Stronfl Vocational Interest Blank, (for Men and Women) Author: E. K. Strong, Jr. Publisher: Stanford University Press, Stanford University, California. Cost: Tests, $2.10 per 25; .report 9 keys, $:72 each for 10 or more keys; machine-scorable answer sheets, $2.72 per 100. The Psychological Corporation, 522 Fifth .Avenue, Neb¢ York, N. Y. 9. Kuder Preference Record. Form A and Form BB. Publisher: Science Research Associates, 1700 Prairie Avenue, Chicago. Cost: Form BB-test booklets which can be used many times, $.48 each; answer pads, $.08 each; profile sheets, $.02 each. '216 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND SPIRIT. ByRev. Ignaz Waffero÷,O.M.I. T~rans-lated by Rev. A. S{mon, O.M.I. Pp. vff~ ~- 408. B.Herder Book Co., S~'. Lou~s, Mo. $6.00. Community exhortations and conferences are an important means to spiritual perfection. Just as by the will of Christ the trde Faith was to be preached and propagated mainly by the living w,ord, so also Christian perfection. Christ¯ Himself set the exa'mple¯ in the Ser-mon on the Mount; the apostles and first bishops taught the more perfect way by word of mouth; virgins, ascetics, andoreligious from ¯ the earliest days were instructed and encouraged to ever greater perfec-tion by exhortations; witness, fc~r example, the monks of the desert. Spiritual conferences soon became traditional ~ in the Church; they went down the centuries, from Cassian to Bernard, to Teresa, to Francis de Sales, to Faber, Marmion, and Leen. ¯ Today canon law prescribes them as a regular spiri'tual exercise for religious and semi-narians (cf. canons 509"and 1367), and the rules of almost all reli-gious communities make provision for them. H~nce, they are not something boring, to be minimized and neglec'ted, .but rather a spir-itual element, to be valued and put to good .use. Their purpose: to enlighten the mind b~'instruction and to sup-ply motives and warmth to the will, leading to virthous action. ' For this spiritual energizing the living word is far more effective than the printed page. Of-course, the. person giving the exhortation should posse.ss certain qualities: he must be a man of prayer, self-abnegation, virtuous life, and prudence: .he must have the requisite knowledge derived from study, prayer and experience; he must make careful preparation and adapt his .conference skillfully t.o his audi-ence~ Orat?ry and rhetoric are of sec6ndary importance; simplicity and sincerity are more efficacious for this work. The listener, too, must come to the conference prepar.ed; hi must have a good intention, a desire to profit spiritually from v~hat he hears; he must not be criti-cal, but humble and receptive, diligently making practical applica-tions, not to his neighbor, or tothe speaker, but to himself. Such in brief is the doctrine of the spiritual masters on the exhortation with which religious are so familiar. 3udged in the light of the above doctrine the present collection of conferences for religious stands up quite well, though 'it is by no 217 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious means perfect. The author, Fathe~ Ignaz Watterot, O.M.I., was competent to give these cbnferences to nuns, having been for many years a successful superior and counsellor of religious. He knows the religious life, both theoretically and practically; he has put his mes-sage in a concrete way, well-suited to his hearers. Hence, it is not su_rprising to learn that the book has been often reprinted in the original and can be found in almost every German convent. It merits the enthusiastic reception given it by the reviewers when it first appeared. There are forty conferenc~es on forty different topics, averaging ten to twelve pages in length, each one neatly and logically divided by means of sub-headin'gs. The subject-matter covers the excellence and dignity of the religious state, the duties, difficulties, and means to perfection in the religious state, its weakness and defects, its joys and consolations. Almost every important point of the ordinary life of religious receives due consideration. However, there is a surprising and inexplicabl~ dmission, daily~Holy Mass. The conferences are doctrinal and psychological. Holy Scripture, both Old and New Thstament, is cited profusely. Canon law and selected instructions of the Holy See are utilized. The principal ascetical sources are the works of Augustine, Chrysostom, Bernard," Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Teresa of Avila, Ignatius Loyola, Alphonsus Liguori, and above all thos.e of St. Francis de Sales and. St. Jeanne de Chantal. Among the more recent" writers we find Alban Stolz, Albert W.eiss, and Clara Fey, foundress of the Sisters of the Poor Child J~sus, whose cause, for canonization has been intro-duced. The author is also well acquainted, with feminine psychol-ogy, and his conferences abound with practical, even homely, ex-amples and illustrations. The chief drawbacks of this American edition are two. First, the book has not been brought up to date. It was first published some forty years ago. Pertinent official documents of the Holy

Issue 47.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 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. REVIEW 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: REVtEW 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 May/June 1988 Volume 47 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. 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. Effective, Nondefensive Communication Between Clergy and Religious Women Robert J. Wicks, Psy.D. This article is adapted from an invited address presented at the 1986 Annual Vicars for Religious Eastern Regional Conference on November 7, 1986, at the St. Raphaela Retreat House, Haverford, Pennsylvania. Dr. Wicks, author of Availability. the Problem and the Gift, is Professor of Pastoral Counseling and Director of Program Development in the Loyola College Pastoral Counseling Department; 7135 Minstrel Way, Suite 101; Columbia, Maryland 21045. Good communication cannot solve every problem; to think so is naive. However, good communication can set the stage for metanoia (conver-sion). Therefore, in light of this all must be done to take advantage of the opportunity it offers-~even though, as one might expect, the cost of this conversion (in terms of openness, patience, and persistent assertive-ness) may be quite substantial. Considering this cost, from a psychological point of view there must be a real effort taken to remove all of the unnecessary interpersonal stress involved through the employment of good communication techniques; whereas, from a spiritual vantage point we must see the goal of effec-tive communication and relationship formation between male and female leaders of the Church as a positive challenge which inspires further steps toward openness rather than one that is threatening and discouraging, caus-ing avoidable anxiety. The movement toward Christian intimacy and interdependence must then be based on a hope that is very much tied to our faith; for with a strong faith--even when we are in the midst of an interaction that seems 321 399 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 to be pulling us apart or are in an apparently complete impasse--we will never lose sight of the key biblical injunction "Be not afraid." In the simple words of Paul to the Philippians: In the name of the encouragement you owe me in Christ, in the name of solace that love can give, of fellowship in spirit, compassion and pity, I beg you: make my joy complete by your unanimity, possessing the one love, united in spirit and ideals. Never act out of rivalry or conceit; rather, let all parties think humbly of others as superior to themselves, each of you looking to others' interests rather than his [her] own (Ph 2:1- 4). His call must be one that all men and women in Christ must heed. And clergy and religious women (the term "religious women" is used instead of "women religious" because it is more inclusive) need to lead the way in continuing to model this struggle for partnership in ministry. One of the realities that I believe many of us do not realize about com-munication between clergy and religious women in this age of occasional ministerial conflict between women and men is that communication is better now between these two groups than ever before in the modern Church. In the past the dissemination of information may have been easier and the discussions more comfortable, but if we are to look at commu-nication as a two-way communication where self-disclosure and the un-covering of agendas are involved, communication between clergy and re-ligious women is, in a real sense, a recent post-Vatican II phenomenon. Prior to this, in many instances because of structures and roles, the in-formation flowed primarily in one direction; this was not only unfair to all concerned but it also held back the Christian community because com-munication is a mainstay of interpersonal vitality. With these points as a backdrop then, we must enter into the topic of effective, nondefensive communication between clergy and religious women with a sense of reality and a deep attitude of hope. If we want, psychology can provide practical information to help, but we must also recognize that this is a spiritual movement; tht~s, in this light we have a responsibility to guide it but an equal mandate not to try to control it. To do so would only prove both frustrating and disastrous. In an effort to place sound psychology at the service of this move-ment, three questions will be addressed: I. How do people respond to communication?This question is im-portant because we often have the assumption that communication is nor- Effective, Nondefensive Communication / 323 mally received with welcome arms and are surprised when this does not happen. II. Who is receiving the message? This question is helpful to address because of the dramatic way a message can be affected, accepted, or re-jected when there is little reflection on whom we are addressing in terms of a number of variables. III. How is effective communication an element in an overall trans-formation of one's attitude and response to God? Good communication is only important if it serves to build up the Kingdom--the Kingdom within ourselves and the Kingdom among ourselves, that "Sacred Space" within which we make the spiritual journey. I. What Are Some of the Ways People May Respond to Communica-tion? Communication can be greeted in a number of ways including: with suspicion or paranoia, with unrealistic expectations, or with hope and chal-lenge. Understanding a bit about each of these types of responses is help-ful when preparing for or involved in communicating with others. Suspicion or Paranoia: Alan Paton once said that some persons "fear social change more than they fear God." Communication often leads to change, and in the institutional Church there sometimes is a sense of suspicion or even paranoia about where the current movements will lead. Nowhere is this more evident than with respect to the move-ment toward full partnership on the part of women. Quite honestly, al-though the suspicion and paranoia are not warranted if we have real trust in the Lord and are healthy psychologically, there is still a reality aspect to the whole issue which is senseless to bury or deny. Communication, real communication--which has at its heart the burning desire for inclu-siveness- is a Trojan horse in the institutional Church today. Inside the horse is true Christian equality--something that will, as it develops and grows, bring with it confusion and concern, just as Christ did in his times to his religious structure. So, although we really must not turn back and hide ourselves behind former types of organizational breakdowns (to do so, I think, would be a futile and sinful exercise in misplaced nostalgia for past structures), th.e question we must not hide through Christian de-nial or behind "chronic niceness" is whether, in envisioning unity, we are also prepared to face many systemic questions which may shake us as a body to the core? Unrealistic Expectations: Among the unrealistic expectations of com-munications we sometime~ hold on to are that good communications will almost always produce comfortable agreement, or somehow if it is done 324 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 correctly will always be pleasant. Agreement does not occur all of the time; this is natural. However, some people erroneously believe that if there is not agreement, it means the communications involved are not good. This is false because there could be a meeting of the minds but the minds may not agree. This is an important point to realize in the Church today. The Church takes time to change; those who have had time to see the institutional manifestations of the Church around the world and have reviewed Church history know that the structures often take time to catch up to the reality of the movement of the Spirit in the People of God. So, while communications and respect between clergy and religious women must be at the top of our agenda, to expect that this will lead to immediate change of certain laws, traditions, and systems is to court unnecessary frustration. Another unrealistic expectation is to expect that if communications are good the results will be pleasant. This is obviously also not true. To see injustice-~either in our own behavior or others--is certainly not a joy. As a matter of fact, good communication may bring us closer-- truth has a special power to do this--but we may not feel it because the issues that divide us may become clearer and we may feel more alien-ated because we are starting to honestly confront them. Using the terminology of Merton, in communications our "true selves" may well see each other and be attracted but at the same time our "false selves" will probably turn and run for their lives! For in-stance, let us take the case of a clergyman who is a firstborn male with an eastern European background. For him to have to face as a result of communication the possibility that he has been acculturated to see him-self as the "worthy one," someone to be waited on hand-and-foot, and that he must somehow in the Spirit of the servant Jesus move away from this learned style is not going to be easy. Likewise, for a religious woman to own the fact that she has been displacing some anger she rightly feels about injustice in the Church onto a particular priest who has not shown any evidence of sexism but has happened to be nearby when she was feeling her justified frustration is also not pleasant. Hope and Challenge: However, thankfully, communication can also be greeted in a positive way. It can be greeted with a sense of hope and challenge; and that is the attitude we must all seek to "put on" as we would seek to put on Christ. Yet this positive Christlike attitude does not deny that communication takes effort, is easily affected, and often gets distorted because of past experiences. Effective, Nondefensive Communication / 325 Gestures never substitute for actions; this all of us probably would admit to knowing. Yet one of the burdens of the human condition is that we often make a gesture when we think we are taking an action. This is especially so in communication. Real communication requires that agen-das be cleared. We must risk speaking our minds and our hearts, but often we shy away from this because we can lose face, uncover unpleas-ant anxieties, or lose our position in the relationship (even though this position is a matter of self-protection rather than of Christian friendship). The "bottom line" then is that, even with a sense of hope and challenge, good communication takes real effort. II. Who Is Receiving the Message? Age, socio-economic background, race/ethnic origin, intelligence, and any number of other determinants will affect how our message is re-ceived. This is especially important in terms of personality and sociali-zation as a result of gender. With respect to personality and communication, given the focus of this paper, the specific factors which we will treat here are domination and avoidance. Domination: Some people have a great fear of being dominated or influenced while others are themselves dominators. In both cases, the per-son will receive communications in line with these personality determi-nants. Sometimes very bad past ministerial experiences will cause this kind of issue to be at the forefront. An example of this is the person in ministry who has been--in the name of "Christian service"--pulled into doing all kinds of work and has filled all kinds of inappropriate roles. He or she may then respond to communication in what I call a "pseudojustice" mode. Trying to communicate with such persons about involvement can be like pulling teeth because of their fear that their own space will be intruded upon as it has been in the past. With them you may feel exasperated and feel like yelling: "I'm not trying to control you. All I'm trying to do is to find out how you would like to serve as part of the team." The hidden agenda such people have and their past feeling of being dominated and forced into too many unwanted, possi-bly unsuitable roles need to surface and be dealt with so communication and involvement can proceed. On the other hand, for persons receiving the message who are them-selves dominators, the problem will be somewhat different. In this case they show constant concern that if they agree or open up they might lose necessary control of the situation. In communicating with them, the situ-ation is also frustrating because if you are not careful you may begin to 326/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 feel that you are in fact gUilty of trying to wrestle control or get away with something. To such persons, nevertheless, you must express the idea clearly and question their hesitation so that they can get in touch with the domination problem they are experiencing. (Th.e more uncon-scious the problem is, howex;er, the more defensive the person will be because of a lack of awareness about it and a resistance to looking at it on his or her part.) Avoidance: Avoidance of involvement with another person may be due to a number of reasons. When we are speaking about communica-tions between clergy and religious women, though, one of the primary concerns could be the fear of heterosexual intimacy. As we learn from the psychological literature (for example, Daniel Levinson: The Seasons of a Man's Life), this may especially be a problem with males because of a confusion between genital relationships and nongenital heterosexual relationships. In Levinson's words: A man may have a wide social network in which he has amicable, "friendly" relationships with many men and perhaps a few women. In general, however, most men do not have an intimate male friend of the kind that they recall fondly from boyhood or y.outh. Many men have had casual dating relationships with women, and perhaps a few complex love-sex relationships, but most men have not had an intimate nonsexual friendship with a woman. We need to understand why friendship is so rare, and what consequences this deprivation has for adult life (p. 335). For the religious woman, the case may be a failure to have had enough heterosexual opportunities herself to feel at ease in the situation; another reason could be a negative history early in life or in ministry (for example, steps at healthy intimacy either rebuffed or responded to in a genital way thus producing confusion, anger, or possibly unwarranted guilt). Now that we have looked at the above two elements in understand-ing whom we are communicating with--since the "who" very much de-termines how a message will be received, let us briefly look at the dif-ferences communication takes on from the socialization a person receives because of gender. Gender, along with the socialization and human development that oc-cur in line with it, is a very crucial variable in how someone receives communication. Carol Gilligan (In A Different Voice: Visions in Matur-ity, Harvard University Press, 1982), Robert Kegan (The Evolving Self, Harvard University Press, 1982), and Jean Miller (Toward a New Psy-chology of Women, Beacon, 1976) b.ave shown that recent studies on Effective, Nondefensive Communication women's psychological development characterize them as more open to, and interested in, affiliation than men. However, of more import is that these findings, rather than being evidence of regressive dependence, are reflective of a high level of development that should be integrated with (male-oriented) differentiation at each level of maturity. Joann Wolski Conn, in her work Women's Spirituality (Paulist, 1986), points to this: ¯ . . o.ne should notice the similarities between the Christian goal of un-ion with God demonstrated by loving care for all persons, and the ideal of human maturity promoted in essays by Miller, Gilligan, and Kegan. Gilligan rejects autonomy as the only appropriate goal for human ma-turity in moral decisions and presents instead a goal which equally val-ues relationships . [Kegan] explicitly intends to present a model which listens as carefully to women's experience as it does to men's. As a result, his model demonstrates how the qualities which have come to characterize men and women stereotypically--autonomy and relation-ship-- are the focus of life span tasks at every stage of everyone's de-velopment . Miller explains that autonomy as the goal of maturity is a carry-over from men's experience and implies that one should be able to give up affiliations in order to become separate and self-directed. Women seek more than autonomy as was defined for men; in-deed, they seek a fuller ability to encompass relationships simultane-ously with the fullest development of themselves. Too often women are misinterpreted or penalized for affirming to men a basic truth: every-one's individual development proceeds through affiliation as well as dif-ferentiation. And this development involves conflict which is an inevi-table fact of life and is not necessarily harmful (60, 61). The above is particularly relevant for us here because it is the devel-opment of the female "gender" (as opposed to biological sex), with its emphasis on affiliation,versus the male "gender," which focuses on sepa-ration, that determines whether communication will be sought to build up the Kingdom via an emphasis on relationships or via an attempt to foster "God's will" by furthering a truth or cause at the possible ex-pense of excluding intimacy in the process. ¯ This is not said to disparage men. Jesus in his communication mod-eled both the male and the female gender (that is, he stood for the truth but saw charity and relationship as the greatest law). On the other hand, in an effort to attain equality, it is equally possible for some women to mistake "machismo" for the masculine gender and seek aggressive power in their communication rather than an assertive appropriate de-fense of the truth that will in turn bring us together as brothers and sis- ~i98 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 ters. Consequently, gender is an important issue when reflecting on the person with whom we are trying to communicate. III. Effective Communications as an Element of Overall Transforma-tion Changes in one's attitude and approach to life are areas in which thera-pists have had a long-standing interest. Because of this they are aware of the resistance to change that people have-~even when there is an ex-pressed conscious desire to progress. One way of dealing with such re-sistance, bad habits, or unwanted yet seemingly ingrained negative pat-terns is to address one or all of the following: behavior, cognition, af-fect, and imagery. (I am indebted in this section to my colleague Rich-ard Parsons for his model for therapeutic intervention based on the first three of the factors just listed.) This information is important with respect to what we have already discussed because unless communication is seen as an element of one's overall need to be transformed in approaching God, it will not be suffi-ciently integrated into one's life to have significant impact on one's daily outlook. For instance, when a depressed person comes in for treatment, the problem during the course of therapy can be dealt with in each of the ar-eas listed above; the following is a sample: Behavior: The person is helped to develop a strategy to get out of bed and move about since activity and depression do not coexist well to-gether. Cognition: The person is assisted in recognizing negative thinking, seeing the link between it and depression, and learning how to correct for this thinking as a way of dealing ultimately with a negative belief sys-tem. Affect (emotions): The person is encouraged to express negative emo-tion (anger) so it is not directed against the self in a destructive fashion. Imagery: The person is given exercises in positive imagery as a means of correcting the inordinate negative images that the person fre-quently has and erroneously believes. In this way, the person is able to enter upon a process of self-reeducation, in terms of which, rather than behaving, perceiving, feel-ing, and imaging negatively, he or she realistically and positively takes greater and greater hold. In our openness to grace (using the above model including behav-ior, cognition, affect, and imagery), similar moves must be taken with respect to.ensuring the presence and growth of effective, nondefensive Effective, Nondefensive Communication communication between clergy and religious women. As a way of en-suring this, in each of the four categories, a series of sample questions is offered. They are not so much a comprehensive list as a way of ap-proaching what we have covered in this paper on a broader scale. How they are addressed initially and every day will help determine how the clergy and religious women feel about and act upon their stated desire to open up clear lines of communication between them--regarding, that is, what they do, perceive, affectively experience, and envision. Since emotions are hard to impact directly (except with drug therapy or via ex-ercises in catharsis--that is, ventilating emotions when relating an event to a friend so that the emotions do not come out in an inordinate way in an encounter with someone else), the three we will focus on in terms of a listing of reflective questions are: behavior, cognition, and imagery. (Naturally, there will be some overlap between categories.) Behavior: 1. When someone treats me with disrespect/anger, do I inquire about it or do I withdraw and absorb the negativity or retaliate against the per-son? (Am I able to say: "You seem angry. Is it me that you are angry with or someone/thing else?") 2. Do I time sensitive interactions correctly, or do I bring up things at a time when the person will feel on the spot, rushed, or unable to re-spond? (The "attack-in-the-open" or "hit-on-the-run" techniques.) 3. Do I let other people's behavior (defensive, angry, rigid.) de-termine (excuse) a like negative response on my part? 4. When I have a confrontation, do I employ empathy and respect? 5. Do I group people (sexes, roles . . .) together, or do I take the trouble to appreciate each person individually? 6. Do I treat my partner in ministry like a child or parent or assume one of these roles myself in communication? 7. Do I demand that people agree or have a constantly pleasant de-meanor as a price of interacting with me? 8. When I communicate, am I trying to be myself, or am I trying to project an image so as to keep people controlled, at a distance, or in awe of me? 9. Do I hide behind the rules--be they correct or not--as a way of ending a conversation or cutting off a person's desire to brainstorm or be an adult with me? 10. Do I give in--in the name of "charity"--because I want to be liked? 330 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 11. Am I difficult to deal with and .overly exacting about a job de-scription- not merely to ensure justice is done, but as displaced revenge for past injustices, hurts, or inordinate demands? In other words, am I willing to be assertive enough to set limits for people when I am being asked to do things I should not do, and, on the other hand, am I gener-ous enough to go the extra mile when it is called for rather than hide be-hind a "union-type" contract which may destroy ministerial morale? (This question is material for an article in itself, given the undeclared psy-chological war that is often taking place between some manipulative, con-trolling, dominant ministers in the Church and the obsessive-compulsive persons who report to them.) 12. Do I use emotional words or parental actions (pedantic tones, sar-o casm . . .) as a way of controlling or attacking other persons? 13. Do I use indirect or passive aggressive/dependent behavior as a way of getting back at someone because I cannot or will not face my own anxiety about being directly assertive? 14. Do I catch myself when I am not taking someone seriously or am making a premature judgment about him or her? 15. Do I tie people up in specifics, rules, or implications rather than allowing them to share their hopes, ideals, and visions with me? 16. Do I look for defensiveness in the other person as a help to moni-tor how I am presenting my view? (Am I using evaluative rather than de-scriptive language, which then sets the other person up to respond nega-tively?) 17. Am I being specific and recent, rather than vague, general, or historical? That is, am I dragging in what I perceive to be the person's whole negative history with me? 18. Am I falling into the trap of employing a communication de-stroyer such as: ordering, directing, commanding, warning, admonish-ing, threatening, exhorting, moralizing, preaching, lecturing, giving so-lutions, .judging, criticizing, blaming, flattering, name-calling, shaming, withdrawing, humoring, or diverting? i9. Am I acting the way I am because of the person's "church cre-dentials" or because of who they are as persons . . . my brothers and sisters in Christ? 20. Am I giving other persons enough distance, or am I moving ahead in the communication and relationship because of my own needs, my own sense of where relationships should be after a given period of time? Effective, Nondefensive Communication 21. Am I able to not "take the whole stage" or "hide behind the curtain" but instead find an appropriate verbal place in the communica-tion? 22. Am I self-disclosing enough without inappropriately or too rap-idly overwhelming the other person with my personal life? 23. Do I use anger, pouting, tears, tantrums, or seduction to get my way? 24. Do I look for the other person's point in communication so it re-ally can become a two-way process of exchanging information? 25. Am I looking for those signs in myself which would help me see when in my interactions and thoughts I may be setting myself up for un-necessary failure? (Do I expect that the reality of the diocese or present partner in ministry will meet my ideals and, when it does not, see it as a total failure?) Cognition: I. Do I try to be as clear as possible in the way I express myself--in other words, do I try to look at all my motivations and agendas? 2. Do I catch myself when I feel either angry, anxious, or guilty so I can try to understand the source of it rather than merely blaming my-self or someone else? 3. Am I sensitive to the times I personalize things? For instance, do I quickly take the blame for some external negative event that I was not primarily responsible for and as a result feel unnecessarily angry/guilty? 4. Do I hold on to the biblical quotation "Be not afraid" at a real belief/trust level to the extent that I can move forward in communica-tion even during those times when I feel pain, rejection, threat, or panic? 5. In my communication of the expectations I have of people, am I presenting them in a way which puts them on the spot, or do I really try to call them to be all they can be without embarrassing them because they are where they are? 6. Do I predict failure or put the other person down in my mind even before the communication has had time to develop? 7. Do I pick up my feelings of annoyance or frustration and catch the underlying thought which is causing it and thus avoid lessening my motivation to continue the communication and work through the prob-lem? 8. Do I fearlessly try to separate my motivations and agendas so I can see what mature/immature elements are involved in my thinking when I prepare for an important discussion, confrontation, or meeting? 332 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 9. When I am at an intimate level with a person, am I checking all the thoughts going through my mind---even the negative or unrealistic ones--as a way of picking up my unfulfilled preconscious desires or needs so they do not interfere with the communication or lead me to act out some immature behavior that would be detrimental to the relation-ship? I0. Am I thinking that, if this person does not like me, it means am not likable in general? Or do I believe that when I am on a ministry team everyone must get along equally well? 1 i. Do I see disagreement as tantamount to disloyalty or start to be-lieve such an attitude if I am given that message by the person with whom I am communicating? 12. Am I willing and able to recall past supportive adult situations I have had with other partners in ministry so I do not generalize when I have a bad experience in the present? Imagery: 1. Am I imaging myself as an assertive sister/brother of Christ, or do I perceive a non-Christlike negative image of myself? 2. Am I truly imaging the opposite sex as being in the image of God? (Am I able to image her/him as being my superior even if I am now her/ his superior in the apostolate?) 3. Do I image myself as loved so I can behave as a healthy person rather than a "good/nice" person who retreats, placates, etc., because of a desperate need for acceptance? 4. Do I try to cut through all of the past culturally determined im-ages I have had of the Lord in order to reenvision the masculinity (as op-posed to the "machismo," power, superiority . . .) of Christ, and am I also able to see Jesus as mother? Or, do I really believe this area is silly and avoid it? 5. Do I take the "Abba" image of God as my guide and meditate on it as an assertive yet tender role model? Or do I still have a "superego-oriented," patriarchal image of God? These are just some of the questions that must be faced with respect to behavior, cognition, and imagery if communication is to change and become effective, if our attitude is to be truly transformed. Epilogue Abraham Heschel once said: [A person's] plight is not due to the fear of nonbeing, to the fear of death, but to the fear of living . The fear of living arises most corn- Effective, Nondefensive Communication monly out of the experiences of failure or insult, or having gone astray or having been rebuffed. It is rooted in the encounter with other human beings, in not knowing how to be with other beings, in the inability or refusal to communicate, but above all in the failure to live in complete involvement with what transcends bur living. I think that, in discussing effective, nondefensive communication be-tween clergy and religious women and in looking at our behavior, cog-nition, and imagery, we are being asked whether we will fear living or whether we will live in complete involvement. We are being asked whether we will follow "Holy Mother the institutional Church" in such a strict way that we are not open to "Holy Mother our God" to the ex-tent that we allow her to carry us where she will. The questions being asked here, then, are not easy ones. Neither are the answers so immediate and accessible. Psychology can help, and we should employ it wherever we can. But, in the last analysis, it is prayer and spirituality that will turn the tide. James Fenhagen said at one point in his book Invitation to Holiness (Harper & Row, 1985, p. 57): "People live cautiously because they pray cautiously." I think this is so, and I think St. Peter felt it when he was confronted at Rome's gate after being asked the question: "Quo vadis?" Accordingly, I wonder, in this whole issue of communications and rela-tionships between clergy and religious women (as might also possibly be the case with respect to the modern movement toward a lay-centered Church), whether it would be too dramatic for us to see that the whole Church is at the gate being questioned again by the Lord as to our cour-age, fortitude, and faith? I wonder. I wonder. Leading People into Prayer Paul Wachdorf Father Wachdorf, a priest of the Archdiocese of Chicago, is an associate dean of for-mation and a spiritual director at Mundelein Seminary. His address is: University of Saint Mary of the Lake; Mundelein, Illinois 60060. For the past six years I have served as a spiritual director for the theologi-ans at Mundelein Seminary, the graduate school of theology of the Arch-diocese of Chicago. An increasing number of our incoming students have never been in a seminary. Frequently their knowledge of the history and teachings of the Church and of the various prayer traditions of the Church is at a very basic level. Some come with no prayer life at all. For others, their experience of prayer is limited to saying prayers, occasionally read-ing from the Bible, or talking to God. One of the challenges I have faced as a director in working with these students is to lead them into a deeper experience of prayer. Out of my experience of the last six years, I would like to share some of the insights and practical wisdom that I have found helpful in work-ing with these students. Although I have worked primarily with semi-nary students, I believe that what I have to say can be helpful to anyone working with beginners in prayer: spiritual directors, RCIA facilitators, pastoral-care ministers, homilists, prayer-group leaders, and many oth-ers. It is very important to be aware of the special issues and concerns that beginners in prayer face as they seek to come before God. The Foundational Conviction The most important insight that I have come to is this: God leads peo-ple into prayer. Through God's own invitations, people come to prayer in their own good time and way. As a director I can invite people to a life of prayer. I can walk with them in their attempts to pray. I can help 334 Leading People into Prayer / 335 to facilitate their movement into prayer. But I cannot make them pray, and I cannot control the movement or the experience of God in their prayer. As a director I have had to face my own impatience and desire to have someone become a person of prayer overnight. I have come to see that there are many starts and stops; but, over time, people are given the gift of prayer. Prayer cannot be forced. It is a conversion experience. When people come to experience firsthand the power of God at work in their lives and prayer, then prayer becomes something that they want to do and not something I expect them to do or something they are obli-gated to do by the Church. Until this happens for them, I try as much as possible to affirm their fledgling efforts to pray and to be understand-ing and accepting of them in their failures, their discouragement, and their resistances as they attempt to pray. Beginning by Doing When I meet.with prospective spiritual directees, I tell them that one expectation I have of them is that they commit themselves to developing a regular prayer life. Furthermore, within the context of spiritual direc-tion, I want them to talk about what happens to them when they do pray. I also tell them that I am not going to dictate to them how, when, or how often they should pray, nor am I going to scold them in their failures or difficulties with prayer. I am not indifferent about their prayer life. Within the framework of God's gift and their freedom, I try to be an accountability factor. What is a value to me, I want to be a value for them. In addition, I tell them that their commitment to prayer insures that what we do within the con-text of spiritual direction becomes more than just guidance and counsel-ing. Some of those I direct have told me that my invitation to prayer has been an important stimulus in their attempts to develop their own prayer life. In Solidarity and With Support At Mundelein Seminary, the full-time members of the formation team commit themselves to an hour of personal prayer every morning in our house chapel. We invite the students to join us in our time of prayer, and many of them do. In this hour of quiet time with God, there is a soli-darity that develops among us. Many of our students have said that this daily commitment of the formation team to prayer has been an impor-tant witness and invitation to them in their own prayer life. 33t5 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Related to this, on occasion I have invited a student I am directing to join me for this time of quiet prayer. We have used a common prayer form or passage from Scripture as the basis of our prayer. Afterwards we spent some time talking about what we experienced in our prayer. Within the context of direction, I try to share on a limited basis, and when-ever I feel it is appropriate, some of the content of my own prayer life and what happens to me when I pray. These two things have helped some of my beginners in prayer to come to an experiential insight into what can happen when they open themselves up to God in prayer and to understand what prayer in gen-eral and what specific prayer forms can be like for them. The Spiritual Dialogue About Prayer When I first meet with new spiritual directees, I ask them to spend some time telling me their life history. Among other things, I ask them to tell me about their prayer life and their experiences and images of God. In particular, I ask them if they have ever had what they consider to be a religious experience or a powerful experience of God at work in their lives. What I have found is not only that many of those I direct have had such experiences but also that these experiences have played an impor-tant part in their own vocational discernment and their understanding of God. I have also found that people feel very shy or embarrassed about hav-ing had such an experience, have never told anyone about it before, and have a difficult time articulating just what the experience was like. As a director I find that it is very important for me to listen carefully to what they have to say, to reassure them that they are not weird or crazy, to invite them to explore further what they have experienced, and to give them permission to talk about such experiences as they might occur in the future. During the course of direction, I ask people to talk about their prayer life in terms of consistency, method, content, and inner feelings associ-ated with praying. Initially they find this difficult since they frequently lack the language to talk about what happens interiorly when they pray. Very often they have not developed the ability to sit quietly for any ex-tended period of time, to notice what they are feeling, and to distinguish the difference between distractions and movements of God. As we begin, I encourage people to talk about whatever they thought or felt or experienced in their prayer, whether they considered it to be significant or not. I find it important for me to move slowly and to be Leading People into Prayer patient with their attempts not only to pray but also to notice and talk about their experience of prayer. I also find that I need to be sensitive to their desire to please me, to do well in their prayer, or to have some-thing significant to say. I need to reassure them that whatever happens in their attempts to pray is fine with me and is pleasing to God. Related to these considerations is another question we examine early on: For whom is prayer intended? Is it primarily for my benefit, for what I get out of it? Or is it primarily for God? If prayer is just for my benefit and if nothing seems to be happening, I will feel it is a waste of time and will be tempted to give it up. On the other hand, if prayer is for God, it does not make any differ-ence if anything "productive" seems to be happening. Even if it feels like a waste of time to me, I am praying because I am giving my time to God in a way that says that my relationship with God is primary. The fact that I am consistently present to God in my prayer is initially far more important than what ! do or what happens when I pray. When peo-ple come to a different understanding of what prayer is and for whom it is intended, they relax and are more open as they approach prayer. Resistances, Difficulties, and Dryness Beginners in prayer are usually eager and enthusiastic as they begin to develop and deepen their prayer lives and to experiment with new prayer forms. They may experience in new and surprising ways the power of God at work in their prayer. As time passes, however, and they run into resistances, difficulties, and dryness in their prayer, they may become discouraged and disheart-ened with their prayer life. They may feel as if God has abandoned them. It is important to help them understand the dynamics of what is going on in their prayer. A list of some of the common difficulties that tend to make prayer difficult for beginners follows: a) Called to a Different Prayer Frequently the difficulties encountered by beginners in prayer are con-nected to being called by God to a different way of praying, to a deeper level of prayer. Although this is true for all pray-ers, it is especially true for beginners. My experience with beginners in prayer is that they soon discover that the ways of prayer taught them as children and carried with them into adolescence and young adulthood are no longer satisfying to them. It is important to let them explore their dissatisfactions and new yearn-ings and to help them see that perhaps God is calling them to a differ- Review for Religious, May-June 1988 ent, deeper way of praying. b) Wondering What to Do Exploring different ways of praying, however, often brings begin-ners to another difficulty: They do not know how to begin or what to do in their time of prayer. They are intimidated by silence and fear that noth-ing is going to happen or that they will be plagued by distractions. When they are unfocused as they come to prayer, when they have no sense of how to open themselves up to God so that God can enter into their lives, prayer will be extremely difficult for them. I find it is important to explore with beginners what prayer is, what attitudes to bring to prayer, how to interpret and deal with distractions, and what prayer techniques may suit them and open them up to God. If they know their Myers-Briggs type indicator, I offer to go over with them some of the research that has been done on prayer and tem-perament. One resource I would suggest is the book Prayer and Tem-perament by Chester Michael and Marie Norrisey (Charlottesville, Va. : The Open Door, 1984). The Myers-Briggs type indicator seems to be a limited but useful tool in helping people to understand how they ap-proach the world. This understanding can put them in touch with a fa-vored and a shadow side of prayer, an insight that can open them to a sense of God at work in their lives. c) Unworthiness Another difficulty beginners face is the feeling that they are not wor-thy to pray. More specifically, they feel unworthy to come before God, that they have nothing worthwhile to offer to God, and that .they are not worthy to receive anything from God in their time of prayer. These feel-ings are often connected with earlier lifestyles which now cause shame. Sometimes they are connected with images of God which portray God as a perfectionist or as a harsh, impersonal, unforgiving judge who pun-ishes wrongdoing. I find that it is important to let people freely explore their life histories, their images of God, and their own sense of unwor-thiness. d) Looking at All Facets of Life I encourage those I direct to get in touch with their feelings and to tell God in their prayer what they are feeling, thinking, and experienc-ing. This tends to bring into focus several related difficulties for begin-ners in prayer. Leading People into Prayer / 339 The first is their image of God as all-knowing. If God is all-knowing, why should they bother to express what God already knows? A second is that they are often not in touch with what they are feel-ing or with inner movements which might or might not be of God. They have never cultivated the reflective side of their lives. A third is that they are frequently suspicious of emotions, especially those they consider to be negative or sinful, such as anger, lust, or de-spair. They have a difficult time admitting to themselves that they have such emotions. And even when they do, how, for example, could they possibly express to God their angry feelings? Such feelings can be very threatening to them and can reinforce their sense of unworthiness before God. It is important to help beginners get in touch with their feelings and thoughts, to claim them in a non judgmental way, and to begin to express them to God in their prayer. As they do this, God is able to be with them as they are and as he wants to be with them. e) The Right Time and Place Difficulties in prayer can also be related to lifestyle and environment. A poor environment, such as the clutter of their rooms where there are many distractions, can make prayer difficult. I encourage beginners to explore various prayer environments to help them discover a place where they can be with God in peace. The time of day for prayer is important. "Morning" people or "night" people need to adjust prayer times according to their natural biological rhythms. I encourage people to find a time of day when they can give quality prayer time to God, a time of alertness and concentra-tion. The general rhythm of life affects prayer. A scattered life or a life out of balance will not help prayer. One needs a regular and rhythmic balance of work, play, and attending to relationships. I encourage peo-ple to examine their life patterns because a healthy life is related to healthy prayer. t') Consistent Commitment Inconsistency or not enough time given to prayer can make prayer difficult. The development of a healthy, loving, life-giving relationship between any two people requires that they spend sufficient, consistent, quality time together. Our relationship with God is no different. If God is to be present to us as God truly desires, we have to make time for this relationship to develop. It is important to explore with beginners the dis- ~140 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 cipline of consistent prayer. g) Wasting Time with God In the midst of the hectic pace of modern life, it is difficult to find time to pray. Often, for pragmatic, production-oriented Americans, prayer seems like a waste of time. People can always think of "better" ways to spend their time. The need that beginners have for productive prayer is one that needs to be carefully explored. I encourage them to see prayer as an opportunity to waste time gracefully with God. h) Dealing with Setbacks When people miss prayer for a day or two or three, they become dis-couraged. They may want to give up on prayer. My response is encour-agement. When they miss, they do not need to get upset or give up on prayer as a lost cause. I tell them to come back. Prayer is a decision that continually needs to be renewed. If they fall, they should simply get up and start over again. God, I believe, is not all that interested in how many times they have fallen. God is more interested in how many times they got back up and started over again. i) Desolation In his Rules for the Discernment of Spirits, Week I [322], St. Igna-tius suggests three important reasons why we suffer desolation or diffi-culty in prayer. David Fleming, S.J., in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978, pp. 210-211), "reads" the text of St. Ignatius as follows: I. It is our own fault because we have not lived our life of faith with any effort. We have become tepid and slothful and our very shallow-ness in the spiritual life has brought about the experience of desolation; 2. it is a trial period allowed by God. We find ourselves tested as to whether we love God or just love his gifts, whether we continue to fol-low his call in darkness and dryness as well as in light and consolation; 3. it is a time when God lets us experience our own poverty and need. We see more clearly that the free gift of consolation is not something we can control, buy, or make our own. These Ignatian guidelines are geared for beginning Christians. When explained properly, they can be helpful in giving beginning pray-ers some insight into what might be happening in their prayer. Leading People into Prayer / 341 Prayer in Direction I invite those I direct to take time, if they are comfortable in doing so, to join me in prayer at the beginning and/or at the end of our ses-sions together. My/our prayer might be spontaneous or more formal. As we begin, the prayer is a simple petition inviting God to be a part of our time together and asking for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. As we end, the prayer might be a moment of thanksgiving or praise to God for the ways in which the Spirit works in our lives and in the process of spiri-tual direction. It is important not to force this. Beginners in prayer are not usually very comfortable praying out loud or spontaneously. At the same time, such prayer does sensitize beginning pray-ers to the importance of con-tinually inviting God to enter into their lives and of noticing and acknowl-edging the ways in which God can and does act in their lives. Conclusion My experience is that leading people to prayer is an art and not a sci-ence. There is no one textbook approach that works for everyone. Prayer is something very personal and unique. It is a special relationship that develops over time between God and the pray-er. People come to prayer in their own good time and way. As a spiritual director, I cannot make prayer happen; but I can help to facilitate this loving relationship. In work-ing with beginners in prayer, I do not apply the suggestions I have of-fered in this article in any structured or systematic way; but I have found that there are certain common themes and experiences that it is good for me as a spiritual director to be aware of as I seek to lead people under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit into a life of prayer. Marian Year: A Prolonged, Ardent Pentecost Gene Barrette, M.S. Father Barrette last wrote for us in the November/December 1987 issue. The pre-sent article has been adapted from a letter of his to the La Salette Missionaries, of whom he is the superior general. His address: Missionari di N. S. de la Salette; Pi-z, zza Madonna della Salette, 3; 00152 Roma, Italy. I'leturning to Rome from Argentina on June 6, 1987, after nearly twenty-four hours of travel, I was only hazily aware of the events of that day. I noticed some members of my community in front of the TV joining the Holy Father as he prayed the rosary at St. Mary Major's Basilica. A Veri-table prayer chain around the world was formed as simultaneous trans-mission linked groups of the faithful praying in some of the major Marian shrines on five continents. Later in the evening a group from the house went to the Pentecost vigil celebrated in St. Peter's Square, a ceremony full of splendor and evocative images of fire and flowers. These were festivities marking the pope's official opening of the second Marian Year in the history of the Church. This special year, which will close on the feast of the Assumption, 1988, was launched with media fanfare, receiv-ing extensive TV and newspaper coverage here in Rome for a couple of days. And yet, I must humbly admit, in my own jet-lagged heart I felt little excitement or response. In fact, when the Marian Year was first announced, a little demon voice in me had muttered: "What is this man doing? Here the world is facing enormous problems: war, possible nuclear annihilation, the col-lapse of social structures, massive oppression and injustices, and moral confusion; and what does he hold out to the world? A Marian Year!" My 342 Marian Year / 343 initial reaction was not only less than enthusiastic, it was even slightly embarrassed. How shallow that reaction was! For what has Pope John Paul done? I believe he has done something very prophetic, prophetic in the same sense that La Salette is so pro-phetic. At La Salette Mary described a world suffering from famine, dis-ease, and turmoil. And yet what did she propose as a solution? Prayer, attendance at Mass, fasting--in a word, conversion. She proposed solu-tions that in the eyes of the world certainly could only appear "foolish." And so too, perhaps in the eyes of the world or, even worse, in our own worldly eyes, the pope's proclamation of a Marian Year as an important way to prepare for the Third Millennium may seem foolish. But it is the kind of foolishness that in the eyes of God is, in fact, wisdom. In proclaiming a Marian Year, the pope is saying to all of us: "Be-hold your mother!" Yes, this is a year that can help us behold and relate to this maternal reality which is life-giving and life-nurturing; and the life that Mary gives and nurtures is precisely the Christ-life so desper-ately needed in the famine of our days. Yes, behold our mother; behold the woman who is our privileged doorway to Christ, Christ who in fact is the only true answer to the fragmentations, oppressions, and forces of nonlife and darkness threatening our today and shadowing our tomorrow. Any word or act that leads us to this heart of our reality is prophetic. Bringing Mary Out Of Eclipse It is no e×aggeration to say that Marian devotion suffered a diminu-tion during the past twenty-five years or so. Some blame the Vatican Council, others hold theologians at fault. And yet no council has ever spoken so beautifully of Mary as does Lumen Gentium, nos. 52-69. Promi-nent theologians such as Karl Rahner, Schillebeeckx, and even the non- Catholic Max Thurian have written exquisitely on Mary. Bishops' con-ferences have issued pastoral letters on Mary, such as the American bish-ops' beautiful letter Behold Your Mother. The eclipse came as an over-reaction to excesses that at times existed in some Marian devotions; the eclipse also came because our attention was focused on other essential aspects of our Christian, ecclesial life. But Mary is so integral a part of the fabric of our faith that she can-not remain in eclipse. In fact, in Argentina Cardinal Primatesta, in a con-ference to the members of the Council of the Congregation, went on at great length to emphasize that it is Marian devotion that has preserved the Christian faith of the Latin American people over the centuries. This great gift cannot remain in eclipse. :344/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Through the Marian Year, Pope John Paul wants to put dramatically before our eyes and our hearts this life-giving reality that is Mary, Mother of Christ, Mother of the Church; your mother and mine. We are not dealing with pious images or metaphors nor with devotional projec-tions; we are dealing with a reality present to us. Do we recognize this presence? Is it vital for us? Permit me to use an analogy to help me get my point across. Walk outside and look up into the air. Do you hear music or voices and see images? Of course not. And yet that seemingly clear air is full of sounds and images. All you need is a radio or TV and click--you capture them. You hear the music and the voices, you see the pictures. All you need is the proper instrument, properly tuned and with a power source. It is the same thing with the presence of God, the Lord, the Spirit--and yes, of Mary. They are real presences. But unless we have our minds and hearts empowered by the Spirit, attuned in faith, then there is no way that we can be aware of these presences; no way that we can respond to them; no way that we can be touched and transformed by them. In a cer-tain sense the Marian Year is a "tuning time" for us; tuning in to the presence of Mary to her people. How sad it would be not to take advan-tage of this gift. This Spirit-inspired invitation of the Holy Father to give Mary her rightful place in our lives is not intended to lead us simply to a superfi-cial polishing-up of Marian devotion. It is actually a call to enter into the richness and the profound meaning of a Marian spirituality. As John Paul's recent encyclical Redemptoris Mater suggests, it is a question of seeing Mary not simply as part of our "doctrine of faith," but much more of Mary as part of our "life of faith." Mary is the prototype for our own stance before God and the world. Mary has led and continues to lead the way on our pilgrimage of faith. Recognizing that and actively drawing strength from that reality is one way of insuring that Mary will no longer live in a sort of eclipse. This is not the place for a treatise on the fundamentals of a Marian theology. I simply encourage you all to give Redemptoris Mater a prayer-ful, meditative reading. The encyclical, plus chapter VIII in Lumen Gen-tium, gives an excellent summary of Mariology. In these pages I simply want to point out some aspects of Mary that can touch our life of faith; points that may.be light and food for our own journey. Mary: Model for Our Pilgrimage of Faith A recurring phrase in the pope's encyclical is Mary's place in the "pilgrimage of faith" (6, 14, 25, and 26 especially). The whole image Marian Year / 345 of the pilgrimage of faith is a dynamic one capturing the movement, the evolution, the story of a people, of individuals. What is this "pilgrimage of faith" that the Church has lived out through space and time in her individual members? The pope says that its essential character is interior, a "question of a pilgrimage through faith, by the 'power of the Risen Lord,' a pilgrimage in the Holy Spirit" (RM 25). The essential element of this interior pilgrimage is the response that each person gives to the encounter with the Holy Spirit. The faith-response of yes-~offiat, a total "obedience of faith" to the Spirit invit-ing into God's plan-~creates a receptive space for the conception and birthing of Jesus. This pilgrimage of faith is of crucial importance not only because of what it accomplishes in the individual, but more because of what is accomplished through the individual: making Christ present in the world. And Mary, in a unique and special way, is present to and part of this ongoing pilgrimage. "Mary is present, as the one who is 'blessed be-cause she believed,' as the one who advanced on the pilgrimage of faith, sharing unlike any other creature in the mystery of Christ . Among all believers she is like a 'mirror' in which are reflected in the most pro-found and limpid way 'the mighty works of God' " (RM 25). Mary is the prototype and model for all faith-pilgrims. And what can we learn when we look at her response? We discover that "to believe means 'to abandon oneself' to the truth of the word of the living God ¯ . . accepting fully and with a ready heart everything that is decreed in the divine plan., a complete openness to the person of Christ, to his whole work, to his whole mission" (RM 14, 39). This total acceptance, this total giving oneself to God's plan, is evi-dent throughout Mary's life: in thefiat of the annunciation moment, in the journey to Bethlehem and the birth in such humble surroundings, in the flight to Egypt, in the "ponderings in her heart" during the early years, in the intercession at Cana, in the years of remaining in the back-ground during the preaching, teaching, and healing and on the fringe of the crowds adulating or condemning, at the foot of the cross, and then in the midst of the apostles for the empowering on Pentecost. Certainly it is not difficult to see in Mary the total gift of her person to serving the saving plan of the Father. Unique? Yes, Mary is. And yet we share in the same call, the same mission. As the American bishops stated in their pastoral letter: "Mary conceived in her heart with her whole being, before she conceived in her :346 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 womb. First came Mary's faith, then her motherhood. Faith is the key . All who truly follow Christ become 'mothers' of Christ, for by their faith they bring Him to birth" (Behold Your Mother, 71). This radical response of faith, as Cardinal Ratzinger effectively stated in a homily at St. Mary Major's on June 10, 1987, shows that Mary is "above all the sign of the fecundity of faith in history." The fecundity of faith is that it brought forth Life itself, which is Jesus. Je-sus is God's supreme entrance into history. It is in Jesus that God once and for all puts history on the road of salvation, of liberation, of com-pletion. Jesus is the ever present Life that transforms history. What bet-ter way, therefore, to move towards the third millennium than to look at Mary, the supreme example and model of the power of faith to bring Jesus into the world? The Marian Year is an invitation to do this. Mary: A Maternal Presence Mary is model for our pilgrimage of faith, but she is more. She is an accompanying maternal presence--guiding, interceding, helping with the sensitivity that only a mother can have. And that is also a reality-- she is truly a mother to each of as. Mary as mother of the human race, again, is not just poetry. It is clearly stated and established at the foot of the cross. "Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother." Mary as model is a great gift of the Father to us; but even more, Mary as mother is the great gift of the Father and the Son to us. Again, in the words of Pope John Paul, "Mary's motherhood which becomes man's inheritance is a gift; a gift which Christ himself makes personally to every individual . Of the essence of motherhood is the fact that it concerns the person. Motherhood always establishes a unique and unrepeatable relationship between two people: between mother and child and between child and mother" (RM 45). Mary is not "out there" somewhere; she is intimately linked with you and me, whether we pay attention to that link or not. This relationship is part of our reality. Turning and relating to Mary as our mother is not an appeal to senti-mentalism. Rather it is turning to a source of life. Again Cardinal Ratz-inger had a beautiful and suggestive image in his homily: "If the Church in its everyday life does not want to be reduced merely to an arid institu-tion or to an activism that burns itself out, it must look to Mary. Life can grow and develop only under the warmth of a maternal heart." It is there under the warmth of the mother's heart that life first begins and grows in the womb; and it is in the light and warmth of the love of a mother's heart that life continues to grow and be strengthened and made whole years and years after leaving the womb. This immense maternal Marian Year / 347 love Mary has for us has a transforming power. Why do we hesitate or simply neglect to reach out for and seize this maternal love? It may be just the thing that many of us and our people need to turn our lives around and become spaces open to the Spirit and be Christ-bearers. The picture of Mary as our mother certainly is central in Mary's ap-parition at La Salette. She began with the words "Come near, my chil-dren . . . I have great news to tell you." In these very opening words there is already great news: the news that we are her children, and there-fore she is our mother. While Cardinal of Cracow, the Holy Father gave a very insightful observation on the motherhood of Mary during a homily he preached on the occasion of the seventy-fifth anniversary of the presence of the La Salette Missionaries in Poland. Speaking of Mary as mother of the hu-man family, mother of the Church, he said, "We know well that a mother who loves cries more than once . . . and if among the Church-approved private apparitions of Mary there was lacking this Mary in tears, our image of maternal love would somehow be incomplete. The mother who loves, sometimes weeps. Even more when a grave danger menaces her child . Her maternal tears are a special proof of love, necessary for humanity, necessary for our people today." How often do we ourselves draw near to those tears of love? How often do we lead our people to those tears of love? ¯ The tears that Mary's love produces are shed in response to our own pain, our own suffering, our own danger, our own brokenness, our own sinfulness. Towards the end of Redemptoris Mater (51-52), the Holy Fa-ther refers to the lines from one of the Marian hymns after compline: "Loving mother of the Redeemer, gate of heaven, star of the sea, assist your people who have fallen, yet strive to rise again." He speaks of the great advances of recent times in human history. And yet, throughout the marvels of our journey in time and space with all the transformations we have witnessed, there remains a fundamental transformation, and that is the ongoing transformation from falling to rising, from death to life. As the Holy Father points out, "the Church sees Mary maternally present and sharing in the many complicated problems which today beset the lives of individuals, families, and nations, and she sees her helping the Christian people in the constant struggle between good and evil, to en-sure that it does not fall or, if it has fallen, that it rises again." This should resonate in each of us if we are sensitive to our own pil-grimage of faith with its rhythms of falling and rising, with its experi-ence of our fragilities and infidelities, with our failings and beginnings 341~/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 anew. Such is our experience as individuals; such is our experience as a community, as a congregation, as a Church, as God's people. Mary's appeal at La Salette certainly relates to our need for conver-sion. (Is the same thing perhaps happening today at Medjugorje?) Yet why do we shy away from this gift offered to us? Why are we so often indifferent, blas6 about these obvious signs of maternal love rushing to us, children in danger, children in pain, children needing help? Is it that we feel that we are big boys now, grown up, ~tnd therefore no longer need-ing this consolation, this warmth, this encouragement, this drying of our own tears, and this loving embrace that helps us believe in our own good-ness and the Spirit's action sending us onwards in new beginnings again and again? The Marian Year can be the privileged occasion for us to re-discover this great gift if we have been neglecting it, or to deepen our love for it if we have not forgotten it. Mary: Continued Presence in Mission to Us Mary, model for us on the pilgrimage of faith; Mary, continued pres-ence as mother. Let us now look at Mary and her own mission, which continues today. As Redemptoris Mater (21) reminds us, Mary's own sense of mis-sion began to be felt at Cana. There we see Mary's solicitude, her com-ing to people in the wide variety of their wants and needs. This solici-tude has certainly been manifested during this last century and a half in her apparitions, especially at La Salette, where her caring wrung tears from her heart. Mary's mission has a twofold movement. She comes to the aid of human needs, but this means that she brings those needs within the ra-dius of Christ's salvific power, as she shows at Cana. At La Salette this is seen in the image we have of the two children, representing our bro-kenness and neediness, being drawn into the radiance that streamed from the crucifix, the ultimate symbol of Christ's saving love. "Thus there is a mediation: Mary places herself between her son and mankind in the reality of their wants, needs, and sufferings . Her mediation is in the nature of intercession: Mary intercedes for mankind" (RM 21), a truth echoing Mary's own words at La Salette, "How long a time have I suf-fered for you . " Lumen Gentium (62) described this same reality: "Taken up to heaven, she did not lay aside this saving role, but by her manifold acts of intercession continues to win for us gifts of eternal sal-vation." This mediation, this mission, this divine pastoral, we might say, continues in the history of the Church and the world. Marian Year / 349 Karl Rahner describes Mary's life as "the archetypal apostolic event . What the apostolate is can be read from her and what she did; she is a productive pattern for the apostolate, not a mere ideal instance of its abstract essence" ("Mary and the Apostolate," Mission and Grace, vol. 1, p. 181). He then outlines some of the characteristics ob-servable in Mary's apostolate. They can serve for reflection on our own apostolate during this Marian Year. In the apostolate of Mary: a) There is a consciousness of its being a mission given from above. (How vivid is this conviction for our own life and ministry?) b) She shows a capacity to wait for the right moment, to know that the mission is to be fulfilled in God's time and manner. (Does not much of our own discouragement at times come from relying too exclusively on our own power, our own schedule, our own programs?) c) There is self-withdrawal behind the person she serves; most of her life is hidden, it is Christ who is brought to the fore. d) There is loyal perseverance. Mary did not merely say yes once, in one great moment. She sustained that yes patiently, silently, con-stantly in the serene assurance of the true believer, in the mature sim-plicity of real greatness, throughout a whole lifetime. (How strongly do we strive for this in our age of easily abandoned commitments? How con-scious are we of deepening this yes every day?) e) There is the cross, a heart stabbed through with the sword of suf-fering together with her Son; there is even the noncomprehension of the decrees of God and of the actions of the Lord himself whom she served. It is an apostolate of hope against hope, of faith before victory is won, of a venture whose reward is not paid in advance, of a loyalty that gives all. (To what extent can we find this spirit of sacrifice, of trust, during our darkest and driest moments in our own lives?) These are foundations for a ~olid Marian spirituality inserted into the very fabric of our apostolic call and going way beyond simple devotion. Yes, Mary is there for us as model for our apostolate. But even more, she is there as a source of the help that we need. Not help with this or that small favor, but help for our deepest need--help in being effective Christ-bearers. Mary's Magnificat Finally, Mary serves as a powerful example and model of the capac-ity to recognize what God has done and is doing in our lives. Her Mag-nificat is precisely this: Mary's personal experience of God's action in herself and in her people. This consciousness compels her to break out 350 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 into simple and wholly inspired praise, boldly proclaiming the undimmed truth about God, who "has done great things" in her as well as in the whole universe (RM 37). Mary was truly attuned to what God was accomplishing. Could we not write our own Magnificat---on a personal level and on a community level? I recall how touched I was in Angola upon hearing of a mission community having its yearly meeting with its satellite communities. The celebration began with the recounting of their history: how the commu-nity had started, the first ones involved, the failure of the first commu-nity, the second effort, the people involved, the priests who served them. And this was not simply read, but was corrected and added to by the mem-bers themselves. They were recounting the Lord's deeds, the great things he had done for them. And in this regular exercise they were keeping this reality vividly before them. What a beautiful way to attune one's heart and mind to the reality to which we can so often become blinded! The Magnificat is also used extensively as a solid Marian light which makes us vividly aware of God's love of preference for the poor, the hum-ble, and how this is intimately connected with the Christian meaning of freedom and liberation--of redemption. Here again Mary has her place. She can serve as an inspiration in this aspect of the Christian mission be-cause, as stated in the Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation published in 1986, "Mary is totally dependent upon God and completely directed towards him, and at the side of her Son she is the most perfect image of freedom and of the liberation of humanity and of the universe" (97). Mary helps us understand that the most radical source of true lib-eration of individuals and even structures is precisely this total surren-der or, as she reminds us at La Salette, this submission to God and his plan for us. Without a revolution of the heart, merely political and so-cial revolutions only lay the foundations for the.next revolution in an end-less chain of humanly oppressive and destructive revolts. Mary proclaims the great things that God does, but these are done for those "who fear him," those who not only are poor and lowly, but have surrendered to him. Mary calls, in a variety of ways, to this radical revolution, which is first and foremost conversion. There is much richness to. draw from here and in other truths about Mary, such as her role in the growing appreciation of the feminine as-pect of the divine presence and the Church. Mary truly offers a seem-ingly inexhaustible source of faith reflection. And again, the Marian Year is an invitation to do such reflection. Marian Year / 351 How Celebrate the Marian Year? Concretely, what are some of the things we can do to benefit from this year of grace? First of all, spend time with Mary. It is as plain and as simple as that. If we are not already doing so, we should make time for her in our day. Let us do like the apostle John and welcome Mary, take her into our own home. Let us bring her into everything that makes up our inner life; that is to say, let us take her into our human and Christian "I," as the pope beautifully expressed it (RM 45). This is the first step: profess our faith in Mary's great love and presence by simply spending time with her and opening our hearts, our lives, as wide as possible to her maternal love. Prayerfully read Redemptoris Mater and other texts on Mary. Again, do this to feed the heart more than the head. Avoid reading only the kinds of works that foster such a strong analytical, critical spirit that one ends up with slices and splices, theological abstractions about Mary, but not with a living presence. Read not to try to dispel the mystery that natu-rally accompanies any great truth of our faith, but read to encounter this mystery with ever greater love. Read and pray to move from professing to living a deep love for Mary, Mother of Christ and of the Church. If some of us have left the rosary aside, let us explore ways to begin to re-discover its possibilities for reflection, for rhythmic, simple centering on Jesus and Mary. If you have a good imagination, use it. St. Ignatius in his Spiritual Exercises does not neglect this tremendous power that we have. In re-cent. years we have easily dismissed using the imagination in prayer and meditation, often because of our climate of high intellectualization, often from a desire to quickly arrive at more advanced levels of prayer. My own suggestion is to try imaging as you spend time with Mary. The re-sults may surprise you. Visualize Mary with you in every situation of your life and of her life. Talk to her, let her talk to you. Let her hold what is still the child in you that may be trembling with fear, doubt, an-ger, confusion, fatigue. Hear her call you by name; hear her invite you to come near; hear her send you forth. Write your own Magnificat. Spend time tracing the great things God has done both in your own life and in the congregation. Recognize God's action in the flesh and blood of your own history: when and how he looked with favor on his lowly servant; when and how he smashed and scattered you in your pride, cast you down from any little thrones you had set up for yourself, or sent you away aware of how empty you re-ally were when you thought you were so rich; how and when he lifted 352 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 you up even as you experienced most forcefully your own lowliness. Put all that into concrete, vivid terms. And then give praise. Then write your own fiat. Look into the depths of your present and look out towards the possible future and with conviction spell out the fiat, the yes, even though you are not sure of the cost, the possible ex-iles, the shape or duration of the cross you may have to carry, to climb upon. "Yes--be it done to me according to your word." Yes, I let go of my plans, my conditions. I surrender, I submit. Fiat! Again, spell that out in the concrete terms of your own life. At the same time, offer a prayer to Mary asking for her assistance to live out thisfiat as fully and as deeply as possible. And let us not fail the people we serve. Invite them to Mary. Let us attract and lead them to what the pope calls the "specific geography of faith and Marian devotion., these special places of pilgrimage where the People of God seek to meet the Mother of God in order to find, within the radius of the maternal presence of her 'who believes,' a strengthening of their own faith" (RM 28). Our shrines, our programs of devotion, all these can be sources of grace through Mary for the con-tinuing pilgrimage of faith. Be creative in bringing Mary to people and people to Mary. I close with words from our Holy Father's prayer for the Marian Year: "Mary, you received Jesus with ready obedience and undivided heart. You allowed yourself to be led by the Holy Spirit's hidden and powerful action. Sustain us, O Virgin Mary, on our journey of faith." My own prayer for all of us echoes the pope's prayer at a Mass re-cently in Foggia: "May this Marian Year be for individual souls and for the entire community a prolonged, ardent Pentecost." Personal Responsibility in .Initial Formation Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie's most recent contribution to this journal is her "Quotations for Com-munity" in the January/February 1988 issue. She may be addressed at Notre Dame Educational Center; 13000 Auburn Road; Chardon, Ohio 44024. For most formation directors, one thing is clear: One of our main con-cerns in the initial formation process is to encourage personal responsi-bility in the persons we direct. What is less clear is the answers to these questions: What exactly is personal responsibility? Why is it so impor-tant in initial formation? How can we encourage it in our directees? What are some signs that a person is, indeed, growing in personal responsibil-ity? And what are some of the obstacles to our encouraging of personal responsibility? This article attempts to explore some answers to these questions. It is based on a series of discussions that our initial-formation team had this past year. I am indebted to our candidate director, Sister Annete Adams, and our director of temporary professed, Sister Mary Catherine Caine, for their valuable input on this topic. Although we were primarily inter-ested in personal responsibility in initial formation, much of what is said here can also apply to the ongoing formation process as well. What is personal responsibility? It is perhaps easier to describe personal responsibility than it is to define it. We saw personal responsibility as a person's ability to make good decisions and to accept the consequences of his or her decisions. Such decisions are made freely; they are not made out of fear or guilt or coercion. The decisions or choices are basically good; that is, they are 353 354 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 based on Gospel ~alues and they are motivated by love. They take into consideration factors other than the person's own feelings and prefer-ences. And, finally, the decisions are open to the Spirit and open to change as life presents the individual with more knowledge, more expe-riences, and more insights. Why is personal responsibility so important? There are a number of reasons why personal responsibility is so im-portant in initial formation. One reason concerns one of the goals of the initial-formation process: the making of a life commitment. Such a com-mitment is valid only if it is made freely, with adequate knowledge and understanding, and if it proceeds from love. In other words, the very mak-ing of valid vows presupposes personal responsibility. But personal responsibility extends beyond the making of a commit-ment; it is essential for the living of such a commitment in a healthy and happy way. Once a person "graduates" from the "schoo| of initial for-mation," he or she is expected to assume responsibility for his or her own growth and development. It is crucial, then, that formation direc-tors see and encourage personal responsibility throughout the initial-formation process. A third reason why personal responsibility is so vital concerns the nature of religious life today. The many changes in the structures of re-ligious life since Vatican II call for far more personal responsibility than in the past. Changes in our understanding of the vows and community also put far greater emphasis on an individual's ability to make good de-cisions and choices. How can we encourage personal responsibility? If personal responsibility is so important in initial formation, what are some of the ways we can encourage it in the persons we direct? One way we can encourage it is to talk about it. We do this not once and for all, but over and over again, in a variety of ways, from different per-spectives as the person grows and matures in the initial-formation proc-ess. We should talk about personal responsibility in both a general way and a specific way. In a general way we discuss with them the nature and importance of personal responsibility. In a specific way we talk with them one on one about how responsible they are. This means we have to ask some probing questions such as these: When and where are you praying? How do you see yourself carrying out your duties such as study, housework, your involvement in community? What are your responsi-bilities in your current ministry and how are you handling them? What Personal Responsibility in Formation / 355 personal decisions or choices have you made recently? Do you see these decisions or choices as good? Why or why not? How are you getting along with the people you live with and work with? Do they see you as a responsible person or not? A second way to encourage personal responsibility is to allow the per-son in formation the freedom to make choices--both good choices and not-so-good choices. This means that as directors we allow an individ-ual to make mistakes. It has been my experience as novice director that some of the worst choices my novices made were some of the most bene-ficial for their growth. Thirdly, we encourage personal responsibility by affirming a person when we see him or her assuming personal responsibility. We can also encourage it by allowing our directees to live with and work side by side with professed members of the community who have achieved a healthy level of personal responsibility. Nothing teaches better than example. What are some signs of personal responsibility in a person? What are some tangible signs that a person in formation is assuming personal responsibility? For brevity's sake, I will merely list some of those signs as we saw them: The person: --gives evidence of self-knowledge and self-esteem --is basically happy and at ease with life --is able to learn from experience --is able to do things he or she does not like to do --gives evidence of being essentially self-directed ~isplays a consistency between stated beliefs and choices --is able to draw from a variety of sources when making serious deci-sions --gives evidence that he or she has thought through and prayed over the more serious decisions he or she has to make --is open to suggestions and direction --is able to deal with irresponsibility in others; this means he or she can accept it when necessary, but also is able to confront it when this would be the more appropriate option --is consistent in behavior no matter who is or is not present --gives evidence of a healthy interdependence with others --assumes initiative ---can deal with boredom or routine 356 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 --- can handle both failure and success What are some obstacles to encouraging personal responsibility? As formation directors, what are some of the obstacles we face in trying to encourage persona.I responsibility in the persons we direct? I think the main obstacles come from three different sources: our directees, the wider community, and ourselves. Sometimes the persons we have in initial formation make it difficult for us to encourage personal responsibility. Some individuals come to religious life desiring to hand over all personal responsibility in the name of holiness. They come to us with a tell-me-what-to-do-and-I-will-do-it attitude. In sharp contrast, others enter religious life equating personal responsibility with let-me-do-whatever-I-want-to-do. Both types make it difficult for formation directors to encourage a healthy personal respon-sibility. Other times one of our obstacles may be members of the wider com-munity. Some professed members may possess an obsolete understand-ing of initial formation which says, "Tell the novice what to do. If she does it, fine. If she doesn't, tell her to leave." When a formation direc-tor, in the name of freedom, allows a person in formation to make a poor choice, other members might cry out: "You're letting her get away with murder!" At times like these, formation directors must be convinced that there is much more to formation than having a directee make what ap-pear to be "the right choices all the time." But the greatest obstacle to encouraging personal responsibility usu-ally lies within ourselves as formation directors. We can fall into two "camps" depending on our personalities. If I, as a director, am a per-son who likes to be in control, then I might want to control my directees too much. This means I might not allow them the real freedom to make their own decisions and thus to grow through them. Perhaps I might con-trol their choices through force or even charm. Perhaps, in the name of saving them the pain of a poor choice, I might tell them what to do. Or maybe I control their decisions for fear of what the next director or the wider community will think of me. On the other hand, if I am fearful of my authority as a formation di-rector, I might adopt a laissez-faire style of direction. This means I might let anything and everything go. I might not challenge the persons in for-mation. I may be afraid to question the choices I see them making. Be-cause most communities have so few in initial formation, I might be tempted to "keep" everyone no matter how much irresponsibility I see. Personal Responsibility in Formation / 357 In conclusion, then, we have seen that growth in personal responsi-bility is an integral part of the initial-formation process. But more than that, it is an intrinsic component of lifelong happiness. Someone has said, "There can be no happiness if the things we believe in are differ-ent from the things we do." Through the encouragement of personal re-sponsibility, formation directors can help individuals achieve greater har-mony between belief and behavior. Your World is Your World, mythirst. Love, will all these as beautiful earthly treasures as the one stillbemine? You give me orshall I each day? lose forever will I see thesmell the changing of burning leaves, of the sky., noreveragain will I watch see the trees the birds fly ofmy autumn days beyond my horizon., change their dress? will I feel wherewill the touch all these be, of warm water Love. ? as it caresses oh! surely, my flesh, I'll have or its cold them all coolness in having You! as it slakes Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. Valparaiso Community 140 Valparaiso Avenue Menlo Park, California 94025 Refounding Through Values Barbara D. Ledig Ms. Ledig is president of Omega Associates, Inc., in Santa Clara, California. With others from Omega, she has for almost ten years helped religious orders and congre-gations to adjust, with value-based systemic discernment, to the significant changes of the post-Vatican II world. This paper explains the theory and practice of Omega's methods, methods that will be used in the August 1988 workshop for religious lead-ership personnel to be held at Santa Clara University and sponsored by that university and by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. She may be addressed at 410 Pinehurst Avenue; Los Gatos, CA 95030. What is happening in our institutions today? This question is being fre-quently asked by religious congregations, educational institutions, health-care facilities, and,~more recently, sectors of business and industry. It seems that the guidelines and structures that characterized these systems since their first formal beginnings have become increasingly unfocused. This is unsettling not only for those who administer and lead these institutions but for those affected by them. A major portion of society, therefore, is dealing with a shift that is little understood, a shift accom-panied by anxiety and indecision. Solutions that once worked have be-come obsolete and there are no models for new ones. Our religious institutions are experiencing this shift more profoundly than many others in that they have been around for a longer time. They are, therefore, further away from their beginnings, beginnings rooted an historical reality very different from the one in which we are currently living. Members of these institutions are finding that the ideas on which they were built and the type of management that enabled them to sur-vive and flourish are no longer working. The population of religious per-sonnel who drive these institutions is diminishing; as a result people who do not necessarily share the original values that gave birth to them are 358 Refounding Through Values / 359 the ones responsible for making decisions regarding the way they func-tion and how they will be carried into the future. An Historical Perspective The extreme change in the Western world resulting from the French and American Revolutions and the Industrial Revolution in England led to the birth of the great teaching and mission orders of the 1800s. These orders, especially those of women, generally came to operate on a basis of uniformity in dress, behavior, and prayer, with detailed rules and con-stitutions regulating daily life. It was through Vatican II in the 1960s that these issues were readdressed and the Church began to return to a more flexible, collegial orientation and urged religious congregations to re-study and return to their founding charism. Communal life in the convents, and seminaries, where often a hun-dred or more people shared living quarters, began to take the form of small communities for the purpose of increasing the quality of life through relationships in which personal growth could more readily be en-couraged and nurtured. The ultimate goal was increased unity in the Church for the purpose of common mission. The vision was a good one but did not anticipate sufficiently the wide range of skills needed to cope with a radically changed environment and more complex interpersonal relationships. The old hierarchical structures and lines of authority were removed or became unclear, and participative decision making was en-couraged. The effects of these changes increased dramatically over the years and are now being experienced in their extreme. The Dynamics of Transition The removal of clear lines of authority has created multiple handi-caps for those in leadership positions. When clear rules dictate what is right and wrong and when authority is vested in one person, as was the case before Vatican II, decisions can be made on objective criteria that are commonly understood and accepted. When these lines of authority become hazy, when the guidelines are unclear, decision making becomes a more complex issue. Personal and communal discernment, methods that have replaced the more authoritarian ones for decision making, re-spect the integrity of the individual on the one hand but require a more complex level of skills on the other. There has been a shift from a rigid structure to a more flexible one. During the last seven years our work with numerous national and inter-national congregations has, however, shown that this shift is incomplete. Most religious institutions are resting somewhere between a hierarchi- 360/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 cal, rule-oriented structure and a flexible, collegial one. The result is con-fusion, internal conflict, and tremendous stress on leadership. It is a time of difficult transition. Older sisters and priests who have given their lives to build these in-stitutions in order to provide relief to the suffering through their minis-tries feel unappreciated and confused about changing a way that was once so strongly validated. Younger sisters and priests are also experiencing confusion about the past as well as the uncertain futures into which their congregations are moving. The dynamics of such a transition are two-fold. There is a pull back to the old, secure model on the one hand and an equally strong pull to move quickly to a new model on the other. Mem-bers of a congregation caught in the first dynamic may become rigid, an-gry, and controlling while those in the second are prone to overly inde-pendent behaviors. In both cases there is a loss of meaning. These dy-namics are not necessarily related to the different age groups within the congregation but appear to be more dependent on the personalities of the individuals. Going back is not possible, nor desirable. What once worked was ap-propriate for the times. Society has changed, our institutions have changed, and people have changed. How do we bring clarity, unity, and efficiency into our institutions so that they can serve the function for which they were created and at the same time enable them to respect and dignify the growth and well-being of the individuals they serve? The hi-erarchical structures that once worked so well must change in form to meet the demands of this new age and become flexible structures that fa-cilitate caring for individual members and releasing the original energy of the charism of the congregation. The values that gave birth to the in-stitution must be renewed and preserved so they 'can flow through its mem-bers and be expressed in mission, but the way in which those values are expressed must change. The structures that have been removed must be replaced by value-oriented ones. In order to effect this change the insti-tution must first become clear about what values lie at the heart of its system. The core center of values, the faith center, must be identified and clarified. Once this is accomplished the clarified core values, imple-mented by historically congruent means, provide the new structures which enable appropriate adaptation to the future. The Nature of Values Values are not a new phenomenon in our society. Aristotle and Plato spoke of them in the light of ideals, or virtues. They were dealt with mainly in the abstract in terms of states of being to be strived for. Refounding Through Values / 36"1 St. Paul spoke of values in his letter to the Galatians: "Anyone can see the kind of behavior that belongs to the lower nature: fornication, im-purity, and indecency; idolatry and sorcery; quarrels, a contentious tem-per, envy, fits of rage, selfish ambitions, dissensions, party bouts, or-gies, and the like . But the harvest of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control" (Ga 5:19-23 NEB). In this case values were seen as signs that differentiated behaviors guided by the Spirit from those that were not. In more recent history we have the value-clarification movement of the 1960s and in the 1980s the high point of value consciousness in busi-ness and industrial settings brought forth largely by such books as In Search of Excellence by Peters and Waterman, Theory Z: How Ameri-can Business Can Meet the Japanese Challenge by Ouchi, and Corpo-rate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate Life by Deal and Ken-nedy. However, the reality is that it has been difficult to work with values because they tend to elude the possibility for practical application and measurement. The work of Omega Associates, Inc., of Santa Clara, Cali-fornia has been focused on value research for the past twenty years. Dur-ing this period of time we have worked on discovering ways to identify and measure values so that they can be used more creatively to enhance the quality of human life. The first step in this ongoing process was the identification of 125 value words in the written and spoken language. We found that these val-ues appear consistently throughout the life span of individuals and or-ganizations and appear to be stable and evident across all social strata, languages, and cultures. They constitute one segment of a values theory developed by Brian Hall, Benjamin Tonna, and more recently Barbara Ledig which is the basis for an understanding of how values on the indi-vidual and corporate level work. The values theory holds as a basic assumption that language influ-ences behavior, whether it is written language, spoken language, or the language of art and architecture. Some words and groups of words have a greater effect on behavior than others, and we call these words values. The value words we identified form the basis for computerized programs which analyze values in individuals, groups, institutions, and documents and serve as a framework through which we can look at all sections of a system through a common denominator. The basis of the framework is the 125 values. The principles which guide the understanding of how 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 the values work are found in the values theory. Values Theory and the Genesis Effect The basic concept underlying the values theory is taken from an an-cient idea that has only recently been confirmed by modern science. That is, each thought, feeling, and action is preceded by an internal image. That image is transformed into action through language, the language of values. Value words are conveyers of energy and form configurations that reflect the internal imaging process through human or organizational behavior. That is, they identify clusters of human experience and act as a bridge between the inner world of thoughts, feelings, sensations, and intuitions and the outer world of concrete reality. Values are understood in this context as behavioral priorities that an individual acts on. This proc-ess has been defined by Hall as the "genesis effect" in a book by the same name and is based on the biblical concept that it was through, the spoken word that God transformed an inner image of creation into real-ity. In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and darkness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said, "Let there be !ight," and there was light. God saw how good the light was . Then God said: "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. Let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cat-tle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground." God created man in his image; in the divine image he created him; male and female he created them (Gn 1:1-4, 26-27 NAB). Values and Their Patterns To identify and clarify our values is a step in the right direction, but what do we do with them after that? Our research has shown us that it is not so much values in themselves that are important, but the way in which they combine with other values in one's life and the priority these combinations take at a given time. We have long been aware of some of the value combinations and the way they can be grouped into clusters and patterns. However, a significant point was reached in our work just six years ago due to new advances in computer technology. Brian Hall and associates of Omega in cooperation with students in the Graduate Di-vision of Counseling Psychology and Education at Santa Clara Univer-sity in Santa Clara, California, discovered new ways to measure and ap-ply values and new ways to break them into patterns and clusters so that they could be compared and contrasted more extensively. This gave us Refounding Through Values more comprehensive information regarding their meaning in the life of persons and institutions. Since that time we have validated our meth-odologies and applied them extensively in religious, educational, and health-care systems involving several international cultures and over 6,000 individuals. The information we obtain from the identification and comparison of value priorities and clusters is used to do a value analysis for the pur-pose of understanding the qualitative nature of the values and their rela-tionship to the meaning system of the individual or the institution. Once this is clear, rigid rule-oriented structures can be replaced by new life-giving ones based on the energy and purpose inherent in the individual or system rather than on external, objective criteria that may be histori-cally biased. Value Pattern I: Phases and Stages In this value pattern we see the 125 values placed along a progres-sive developmental scale divided into phases and stages. The range of the phases is from I to IV with those most basic to human life and devel-opment falling into Phase I. These values progressively become more com-plex as the human being grows and develops, with Phase IV reflecting values of maximum complexity requiring high levels of intellectual, spiri-tual, and emotional development and an environment that supports their expression. This developmental scale does not assume a positive or negative value but rather places emphasis on the integration of the values in the life journey of the individual or the institution in terms of the skill de-velopment needed in order to live them out behaviorally. It is the com-bination of the values and how they fall against the backdrop of the four phases in relationship to one another that determines the quality of life expression. Each of the four phases is divided into two stages, an A stage and a B stage. Values in the A stages are personal values, and values in the B stages are those lived out primarily through institutional interaction. These institutions include the family, place of work, church or syna-gogue, government structures, and religious congregation. Because a per-son's value choices are always limited and influenced by the institutions in which he or she lives and works, the degree to which this interaction can be measured and understood influences the degree to which the per-son can have clarity about the environment's effect on the quality of his or her life. The end result is heightened insight and the ability to make more focused choices. Likewise, an institution can become aware of the 3611 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 impact it is having on its members. Value Pattern II: Act, Choice, and Vision The value combinations in their phases and stages can also be pat-terned according to the priority they take in one's life in terms of pre-sent choices, past development, and emerging futures. Choice values are those that are the present focus of one's life in terms of time and energy expenditure. These choices are not always made freely but are condi-tioned by one's life circumstances. For example, a person may value his or her family a great deal, but if a crisis in the work place occurs he or she may have to work twelve hours a day until the crisis is resolved. In this case, the value of family would of necessity become secondary in terms of the time and energy available to be dedicated to it. Act values are those values that are foundational to human life. They are the basic values which enable survival and security in the world. When these values are threatened by a change in one's environment, such as a move to a new culture or the loss of a job, priority energy must be diverted from the areas of choice in order to deal with the change. Vision values are those values which energize us and pull us toward hopeful futures. They motivate us in the present by giving meaning our day-to-day experience and enabling us to see beyond ourselves and our present reality. In an institution, Act values serve as the foundation in terms of poli-cies, procedures, benefits, and so on. The Choice values are those which guide day-to-day direction and define the management structure. Vision values provide the purpose of the institution and affect the way in which Choice values are operationalized. Value Pattern III: Cycles A third value pattern emerges when the combinations of values in their personal and institutional dimensions form cycles of development. There are seven such cycles, and each has its own unique worldview. Information around the values in each of these cycles helps in the inter-pretation of an individual's or group's leadership and management style, ethical orientation, faith stance, management of time, and behavior pat-terns under stress. Of particular significance to professional religious per-sonnel are the different ways in which the vows can be understood at each of these cycles. The first cycle is called the Primal Cycle. At this cycle the individ-ual experiences the world as a hostile and alien place in which primary needs are those centered on security and survival. He or she emphasizes Refounding Through Values / 365 material possession because it is through material structures that survival is made possible. This is primarily the world of young children or aged adults who must depend on others to care for them and provide them with basic security. However, through the life journey most people will ex-perience values in this cycle from time to time, for we never lose our need for safety and security. The ethical stance of this cycle is one of self-interest which insures survival. A leader who operates primarily out of Cycle I values will have an autocratic and authoritarian style with his or her subordinates for the purpose of maintaining total control. Delegation comes with difficulty because it is perceived as a diminishment of personal power. God is ex-perienced as a savior who heals one's pain but who is distant and imper-sonal. The task at this cycle is to learn the skills needed to survive in an alien environment and to develop a creative and positive imagination that will facilitate healthy movement into other cycles. The second cycle is the Familial Cycle. As the world becomes less alien and new skills are learned, there is an emphasis placed on values related to belonging to a family, a particular group, or a respected insti-tution. It is important to learn skills that enable one to be accepted by and to contribute to the group. The ethical stance at this cycle is based on fairness and mutual re-spect. Laws and rules are expected to be followed so as to maintain an ordered environment. A leader operating out of this cycle will tend to be benevolent to those who work for him or her but will expect them to obey the rules. The attitude is best described as maternal or paternal in that followers are cared for but are not given any authority. This becomes problematic when the follower wants more autonomy and responsibility. At this cycle God is experienced as a parental master and teacher, through one's parents and through the ministerial figures in the church or synagogue. The primary task at this cycle is to learn skills through formal edu-cation and to begin to understand the world more broadly. Sound relig-ious education in the Faith and in Scripture are important. The third cycle is called the Institutional Cycle. It is here that the world begins to be experienced as less alien than before, and increased emphasis is placed on education as a means to achievement and success. There is often tension between the time spent with one's family and the time spent doing things necessary to enable the family to survive. 366/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Ethical choices are most likely to be based on what the law and re-spected institutions say is right. A leader operating with priority values in this cycle will have a bureaucratic style and will place high value on efficient and orderly management. Loyalty to the company will be ex-pected and rewarded and disloyalty considered a serious offense. The bu-reaucratic leader may delegate to others but only to those who are most skilled and who have proven their loyalty. God is experienced as master and teacher and is often represented through the ministers and priests of the church. The sacramental life and personal prayer are considered important, as are institutional religion and commitment to a local church or synagogue. The primary task at this cycle is to learn interpersonal and social skills and the skills of one's profession. It is also a time to begin under-standing the difference between one's own values and the values held by one's family. It is a time of preparation for conversion to special service related to God's call. The fourth cycle is the Intrapersonal Cycle. At this time the world begins to be experienced as less certain than before, and new questions arise regarding previously held beliefs and attitudes. A search for new personal meaning and values may be embarked upon and the teachings of formerly respected institutions looked upon more critically. Profes-sional successes may become less important as the individual strives to discover his or her unique skills and abilities. There is a pull between a strong need for independence and meeting the demands of the institu-tions of which one is a part. Issues around social justice may take on new interest and lead to increased involvement in political or social arenas. The ethical orientation at the Intrapersonal Cycle becomes confused as one pulls away from old ways of making decisions and strives to put into action values that are beginning to create a new, more individual-ized way of assessing reality. A leader with priority values at this cycle will struggle between meeting the needs of the institution and being sen-sitive to the more personal needs of his or her employees. It is a time of confusion and of search for the balance between these two, often op-posing, factors. Hence, it may also be a time of inaction because it is simply too difficult to make decisions. This is a transitional stage of lead-ership, sometimes referred to as laissez-faire, for things are very often left to happen as they will. It is critical for persons operating at this cy-cle to learn the skills that enable them to make decisive decisions which meet both institutional needs and the needs of the individuals in the in- Refounding Through Values stitution; otherwise there is the risk of returning to a more bureaucratic and controlling management or leadership style. God is now becoming internal and personal as a friend and lover in-stead of master and teacher. For many, this period is marked by conver-sion to a new commitment to the Faith. The development of skills in the imaginal area is needed in order to see the world more wholistically and creatively. Meditation and spiritual exercises as well as attention to one's physical health are important for growth into a world that is experienced as more complex. It is important to find a p~rticular life-sustaining value system that enables a new com-mitment to faith. The fifth cycle is the Communal/Collaborative Cycle. Individuals functioning at this cycle will experience the world as a place in which they feel they can participate by using their unique skills in a productive way, The search is now concentrated on discovering new ways to inte-grate individual abilities with the needs of society. Because of the high level of interaction at which the individual is now functioning, issues of time management become critical. Persons at this cycle begin to see the world more clearly, resulting, in an increased awareness of issues around justice and oppression. It becomes impera-tive that they have support structures such as a group of respected peers and trusted friends as well as people of the same professional status and ability with whom ideas and problems can be shared regularly. Ethical choices at this cycle are based on the personally meaningful set of values that have developed, and actions are guided by an inner con-science. Laws are respected but not considered infallible. A charismatic and democratic leadership style becomes possible, for the individual has a new sense of personal creative energy and a renewed vision of an in-stitution that can be efficient and can dignify its members as well. Be-cause leaders of this type are in high demand, issues of time manage-ment, stress, and personal health are more important than ever. God now is experienced as a personal friend and companion sharing in the new ex-pression of the gifts that are becoming a part of the individual's life ex-perience. The sixth cycle is the Mystical Cycle. When individuals are able to acquire the skills, maturity, life experience, and integrated personal de-velopment which characterize this cycle, they begin to experience the world as a revered gift they must be responsible for and with which they must creatively interact. 3611/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 Ethical choices are based on an awareness of the rights of all human beings. Activities include doing those things necessary to diminish in-justices in institutions and organizations. A leader operating with the val-ues and skills of this cycle is called a Servant leader. Servant leadership is characterized by interdependence, mutual responsibility, collegiality, and creativity. Group decision making becomes a natural process, and authority is always used corporately. God is now lover, friend, and Lord of creation. Persons at this cycle experience humanity in a new, more complete way through God's eyes. Intimacy with others is a condition for intimacy with the divine and re-quires radical commitment to service and the contemplative side of one-self. This means balancing the personal experience of intimacy with con-templative solitude and obligations to work and service. Those persons who are able to achieve this high level of functioning must learn new skills, the most critical being the skills that will help them to balance their involvement in the development of just and humane in-stitutions with ample time for solitude and intimacy. It is this balance that will enable them to maintain the level of emotional, physical, men-tal, and spiritual integration necessary for being a powerful and yet posi-tive influence in the world. The seventh and last cycle is the Prophetic Cycle. The world here is viewed as a mystery for which "we" must care. "We" is used in this case as Prophetic leadership primarily expressed at a global level. It requires the collaboration of all institutions concerned with human dig-nity and justice. It is also expressed through being a member of a sup-portive community of peers who appreciate a global level of involve-ment. Global involvement assumes equal attention to local levels. Ethical choices at this cycle lead to involvement in activities de-signed to improve the balance between the world of material goods and the needs of each human being. Prophetic leadership is characterized by interdependence at an interinstitutional and global level and is concerned with global ethical issues centered in ecology, human rights, and tech-nological advancement. God is now experienced as the Lord of creation calling all people to cooperate in establishing a more just and ecologically balanced order in the world. A critical skill component of this high level of development is an awareness of the field of consciousness of all of the preceding cycles and the ability to interact with persons at each level. Spiritually, there is a new appreciation of God's Lordship over the whole creation and a reali- Refounding Through Values / 369 zation that all people are being called to cooperate with God in estab-lishing a more just and ecologically balanced order in the world. Value patterns I, II, and III are based on the perspective of the Hall value theory that holds that life is developmental. In this case time is ex-perienced as linear, moving from the past into the future. This is a help-ful way to view the values in their connection to skills as skills are learned step by step in the developmental process. In reality, however, our past and future can only be experienced in the present. Past devel-opment affects the quality of our lives in the present as do our envisioned futures. This brings us to value pattern IV, which sees life as wholistic, with past, present, and future forming the present reality. Value Pattern IV: Goals and Means Values The fourth value pattern is the combinations of Goals, which are long-term values, with Means, or short-term values. A large part of the analysis of values is concerned with this interactive, or dialectical, rela-tionship between Goals and Means. The significance of these combina-tions can be realized when one looks at the difference in the quality of the behavioral expression of different combinations of Goals and Means values. For example, when the value of Worship, a Goal value, is ex-pressed through the Means value of Institution, the behavioral conse-quence would be personal worship through institutionalized expressions such as attending Eucharist or praying the Liturgy of the Hours. When the same Goal value of Worship is expressed through the Means value of Expressiveness/Flexibility, the result may be worship through faith sharing, dance, or creative liturgy. Two people sharing the same Goal value may be at odds about how this Goal value is expressed. Likewise, persons in religious congregations, united by the same goals, may be di-vided in their opinions about the way in which these goals should be ex-pressed. Frequently, institutions have Goal values that are in keeping with the original vision on which they were founded, but have outdated Means values for reaching those goals. Understanding the Value Patterns: The Discernment Process The methodology for working with value information must be con-sistent with the nature of the values themselves. For that reason, unlike most methodologies that were designed to give reports based on factual findings, the methodology for collecting value information and analyz-ing value patterns is based on a process of discernment, a reflective proc-ess that raises questions rather than gives answers. There are several steps in the discernment process. 370 / Review for Religious, May-June 1988 The first step is the collection of information. The information (I) must be high-quality information as well as statistical/financial informa-tion and (2) must be collected in a consistent manner. High-quality information is information that comes close to the pulse and heartbeat of all parts of the system. It is, in this case, value infor-mation. It is collected consistently by specialized instrumentation that uses an underlying algorithm based on the 125 values and the values the-ory. All of the information is processed by the use of the methodology of Convergence, Congruence, and Confirmation. ConVergence occurs when particular value patterns repeat themselves. The information is then checked for Congruency with what the person or persons in the institu-tion know to be true about themselves and for Confirmation in the lived reality. The Instrumentation is as follows. HT-Doc This abbreviation refers to the HalI-Tonna method of collecting in-formation from the formal documents of the institution. This may be the philosophy of the person or persons who founded the institution in which its purpose, mission, and charism are delineated as well as information contained in the rules, constitutions, or directives. By analyzing the val-ues in each paragraph of the documents, a values.profile can be obtained on the paragraphs, on each part, section, and chapter, and on the docu-ments as a whole. In addition, identified areas of interest throughout the documents--such as those dealing with leadership, charism, vows, and mission---can also be analyzed for their value content. These value pro-files are then reflected on and analyzed in terms of congruences and dis-crepancies and the significance they may have in light of internal con-sistency. The information derived from these profiles can be translated into practical applications. For example, by looking at the value patterns in the Act, Choice, and Vision areas, it is possible to see what the docu-ments are saying in terms of the Act area as related to policies and pro-cedures, the Choice area as related to management structures, and the Vision area as related to long-term goals. In a religious congregation the Vision values would define the expression of mission. The Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values The Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values is a 77-item forced-choice ques-tionnaire which raises questions relative to an individual's preferences and choices. The result of this questionnaire is a 15-to-25 page report which shows the individual's priority value choices on a developmental scale. A set of questions is raised for each cluster of value choices. The Refounding Through Values / 371 recipient of the report is then asked to respond to these questions by read-ing through them and identifying those that reflect issues of priority con-cern based on specified criteria. If desired, the Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values can be combined for specified groups of individuals in order to produce a composite profile. This is often helpful in looking at the com-bined values of a leadership team, local house, or general council for pur-poses of planning, education, or creating a corporate mission-and-philosophy statement within the boundaries of the value information ob-tained from the analysis of the documents. Another way to apply this in-formation is to look at the composite values of the entire institution and compare them with the envisioned values of the institution as expressed through its documents. The Hall-Ledig Interview Format (Interform) This is another method by which information can be collected on in-dividuals through a one-hour personal interview for the purpose of com-paring value information from the Hall-Tonna Inventory of Values with value information from the lived reality. Once the collection of information has been completed, the second step in the discernment process is reflecting on the information. The information which has been collected thr.ough one or more of the above instruments is then reflected on and analyzed. The value pat-terns which have emerged are compared with one another, convergences and discrepancies are noted, and discernment questions are raised from the composite information. It is, once again, through the process of Con-vergence, Congruence, and Confirmation that priority issues can be dis-cerned from the large amount of data collected. If more than one type of instrumentation has been used, the process repeats itself each time with questions being raised based on the internal relationship of the value clusters to one another, the relationship between different sets of value clusters, and the relationship between sets of value clusters gathered with each type of instrumentation. This brings us to the third step of the discernment process, which is acting on the information. The focal issues in the data that has been col-lected up to this point have now been identified. Each issue results in a series of discernment questions. As the questions are responded to, the plan for action begins to unfold based on the discrepancies in the infor-mation gathered with each type of instrumentation as well as discrepan-cies between the information from all of the instrumentation used. The information is then moved to action in the form of value-based policies, procedures and minimal-norm statements, leadership training, education 379/Review for Religious, May-June 1988 focus for initial and ongoing formation, and long-term strategic planning. Conclusions The Church today, like many of our institutions, is experiencing a significant crisis. On the positive side this can be seen as a call, a call to reevaluate the way in which it is moving into the future. History has introduced new concept

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