Inhaltsangabe: Introduction: The question of how and if children acquire language has long been of perennial interest: is language innate or not? If it is, what then is the proto-language? The first phylogenetic 'study' was conducted as early as the 7th century BC: pharaoh Psammetich I. undertook to determine what the proto-language is by giving two infants to a foster father who was not allowed to talk to them. After two years of no linguistic input they could only speak one word – 'bek' – which was assumed to be the Phrygian word for bread (bekos). In the 16th century Akbar the Great initiated the first ontogenetic study. By having two infants raised by a mute woman he proved that children do not learn to speak if they do not hear anyone speak. Since then ample questions concerning first language acquisition have been faced and replied to in detail and at great length. Yet, there are still some left unanswered or even unasked. One of the topics that have not been of great interest so far is the acquisition of interjections not only in first language but also in foreign language learning. In fact, interjections play an important role in communicative as well as non-communicative contexts, and their actual linguistic value and role were underestimated and misjudged for quite a long time: Interjections are among the most little studied of language phenomena; as one looks for references to them in the works of linguists, one is struck by the fact that they are very rarely mentioned, and where they are mentioned, it is usually only briefly and cursorily. Only recently have linguists delved into the subject of interjections and discovered that this particular linguistic phenomenon provides in fact ample opportunity for study and research. Moreover, with the interest in interjections the problem arose to determine what actually defines an interjection. As we shall see, opinions on this point differ considerably and attempts at agreeing upon the definition of interjections have been unsuccessful so far. Yet, there are some general tendencies which will form the basis for how the term interjection is used in this paper, and discussion of this point will be postponed until part II. Now, this M.A. thesis aims at gaining an insight into the acquisition of interjections in early childhood. This field has been neglected so far but merits in fact extensive and thorough inspection. This paper consists of three main parts, with the first two parts forming the basis for my study in part III.: in the first part I will provide a brief overview on child language acquisition, focussing particularly on phonological development. The second part consists of a theoretical disquisition on interjections to illustrate what characteristics they have and what peculiarities they show. In the third and final part I will come to my study on the acquisition of interjections in early childhood.Inhaltsverzeichnis:Table of Contents: 0.Introduction1 I.Part I. - Child Language Acquisition3 I.1Preliminary Remarks3 I.1.1Why Do We Learn to Speak at All?3 I.1.2Anatomic Implications4 I.2Basic Principles5 I.2.1The Neonate5 I.2.2First Vocalisations5 I.2.3The Babbling Period6 I.2.4Prosodics7 I.2.5Early Word Comprehension and Production8 I.3Phonology9 I.4Grammatical Acquisition13 I.5Semantics14 I.6Summary: Child Language Acquisition14 II.Part II. - Interjections17 II.1What Is an Interjection? Approaches and Introduction17 II.2Brief Overview: History of the Study of Interjections18 II.3Primary and Secondary Interjections20 II.4Features of Interjections21 II.4.1Why Are There Similarities across Different Languages?21 II.4.1.1The Pooh-pooh Theory22 II.4.1.2Physiological Determinants23 II.4.1.3Formal Constraints24 II.4.2An Attempt at Classifying Interjections25 II.4.2.1Tesnière's Classification of Interjections26 II.4.2.2Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm's Classification of Interjections28 II.4.2.3Ameka's Classification of Interjections29 II.4.3Parameters of Interjectionality31 II.4.3.1Functional and Pragmatic Features32 II.4.3.1.1Emotivity and Expressiveness32 II.4.3.1.2Non-referentiality33 II.4.3.1.3The Role of Interjections in Speech Acts33 II.4.3.1.4Monologicity36 II.4.3.2Formal Features38 II.4.3.2.1Prosodic and Suprasegmental Characteristics40 II.4.3.2.2Phonotactics and Syllable Structure41 II.4.3.2.3Phonology42 II.4.3.3Orthography43 II.4.3.4Morphology44 II.4.3.5Lexical Structures44 II.4.3.6Syntax45 II.4.3.7Semiotic Structures47 II.4.3.8Semantic Properties48 II.4.3.9Summary: Features of Primary and Secondary Interjections54 II.4.3.10The Linguisticality of Interjections55 II.5Interjections in the English Language55 II.5.1Interjections of Disgust56 II.5.2Interjections Containing an Element of Surprise57 II.5.2.1Oh!57 II.5.2.2Wow!58 II.5.2.3Whoops! and Oops!58 II.5.3Interjections of Pain58 II.5.4Other Interjections58 II.6The Acquisition of Interjections60 III.Part III. - Study: The Acquisition of Interjections in Early Childhood62 III.1Introductory Remarks62 III.1.1Definition of Interjections62 III.1.2Previous Studies66 III.1.3Purpose of Present Study66 III.2Criteria for Selection and Detailed Description of the Interjections for Analysis67 III.2.1Interjections of Pain68 III.2.1.1Function68 III.2.1.2Usage68 III.2.1.3Degree of Linguisticality70 III.2.1.4Origin70 III.2.1.5Form70 III.2.1.6Affiliation to Words and Phrases71 III.2.2Interjections of Disgust71 III.2.2.1Function71 III.2.2.2Usage72 III.2.2.2.1Ugh!72 III.2.2.2.2Yuck!73 III.2.2.2.3Phew!74 III.2.2.3Degree of Linguisticality75 III.2.2.4Origin75 III.2.2.5Form76 III.2.2.6Affiliation to Words and Phrases76 III.2.3"Spill Cries"78 III.2.3.1Function78 III.2.3.2Usage78 III.2.3.3Degree of Linguisticality79 III.2.3.4Origin79 III.2.3.5Form80 III.2.3.6Affiliation to Words and Phrases80 III.2.4Preliminary Thoughts and Hypotheses about the Outcome of My Study81 III.2.4.1Interjections of Pain81 III.2.4.2Interjections of Disgust81 III.2.4.3'Spill Cries'82 III.3Database and Method82 III.3.1Source and Format of Data82 III.3.2Characteristics of Data82 III.3.3Method83 III.4Results84 III.4.1Interjections of Pain84 III.4.1.1Ow!84 III.4.1.2Ouch!93 III.4.2Interjections of Disgust94 III.4.2.1Ugh!94 III.4.2.2Yuck!96 III.4.2.3Phew!97 III.4.3'Spill Cries'97 III.4.3.1Whoops! and Its Variants97 III.4.3.2Whoopsadaisy! and Its Variants102 III.5Discussion103 III.5.1Order of Acquisition103 III.5.2Uses and Their Developmental Change105 III.5.3Comparison of Study Results: Asano - Stange105 III.6For Further Study108 III.7Conclusion110 References Appendix App. 1 IPA symbols used to transcribe the speech sounds in this thesis App. 2 Reasons for the production of Ow! - interjectional usage only App. 3 Deutsche Zusammenfassung der ArbeitTextprobe:Text Sample: Chapter II.4.1.1, The Pooh-pooh Theory: Wundt claimed that primary interjections represent the transition from the imitation of animal sounds to language, i.e. from natural animal sounds to inarticulate exclamatory sounds to articulate emotional sounds. According to Wundt, language evolved in such a way that the articulate emotional sounds used to express moderate emotions were replaced step by step by language, and were henceforth used with intense emotions only Similarly, the interjectional theory – also nicknamed pooh-pooh theory – claims that 'language is derived from instinctive ejaculations called forth by pain or other intense sensations or feelings'. This theory was also put forward by the abbé Regnier, quoted in Beauzée: 'l'interjection … est peut-être la première voix articulée dont les hommes se sont servis'. Hence, interjections may open up the way for an ontogenetic and phylogenetic approach to the development of language. Sapir, however, negates the possibility of interjections being instinctive: he claims that '(interjections) are only superficially of an instinctive nature' and that their phonetic shape is conventional – using this as evidence that 'all of language is conventional, and no part of it instinctive'. Jespersen's also objects to the Pooh-pooh theory but he bases his assumption on a different argument: he maintains that 'the usual interjections are abrupt expressions for sudden sensations and emotions; they are therefore isolated in relation to the speech material used in the rest of the language'. Thus, his argument is that since interjections are not part of language proper, they cannot be a precursor of language. At any rate, it has been suggested that interjections represent some kind of protolanguage, which could explain the similarities between interjections across different languages. We should keep in mind, however, that although interjections are universal to all languages, they are not the same in all languages: it follows that interjections must be (at least to a certain extent) language-specific – they might show formal and/or functional similarities in some cases, though. Physiological Determinants: So let us assume that interjections are not some sort of protolanguage – how then can we account for the cross-linguistic similarities? Although de Brosses claims that interjections are not learnt but are natural expressions of a man's emotions, he also puts their universality down to physiological causes: 'toutes (interjections) tiennent immédiatement à la fabrique générale de la machine organique et au sentiment de la nature humaine, qui est partout le même dans les grands et premiers mouvements corporels'. In The Expression of Emotions in Man and Animals, Darwin also gives an explanation for interjections based on purely physiological reasons: As the sensation of disgust primarily arises in connection with the act of eating or tasting something, it is natural that its expression should consist chiefly in movements around the mouth. … With respect to the face, moderate disgust is exhibited in various ways: by the mouth being widely opened, as if to let an offensive morsel drop out; by spitting; by blowing out of the protruded lips; or by a sound as of clearing the throat. Such guttural sounds are written ach or ugh; and their utterance is sometimes accompanied by a shudder… Extreme disgust is expressed by movements round the mouth identical with those preparatory to the act of vomiting. … As the sense of smell is so intimately connected with that of taste, it is not surprising that an excessively bad odour should excite retching or vomiting in some persons, quite as readily as the thought of bad food does; and that, as a further consequence, a moderately offensive odour should cause the various expressive movements of disgust. Note that gestures, facial expressions and body language are biologically determined, hence universal. This fact might account for the resemblance between interjections of different languages, for there is a close link between gestures and the like and interjections. Taking the above extract into consideration, I can assuredly claim that the sounds produced in these circumstances can indeed resemble the English interjections of disgust, namely Phew! and Ugh!. Later on in the same work Darwin notes the following on the expression of surprise: '… whenever astonishment, surprise or amazement is felt …, our mouths are generally opened; yet the lips are often a little protruded… As a strong expiration naturally follows the deep inspiration which accompanies the first sense of startled surprise, and as the lips are often protruded, the various sounds which are then commonly uttered can apparently be accounted for … One of the commonest sounds is a deep Oh; and this would naturally follow … from the mouth being moderately opened and the lips protruded'. Oh! is the most common interjection in the English language, and it is also frequently used in many other (if not all?) languages, e.g. in the Romance languages, in German, Welsh, Russian, etc. For further comments on Oh! see chapter II.5.2.1 below. So basically, some of the primary interjections can indeed be explained by physiological attributes. These are by definition not language-specific because they are biological, hence universal. This phenomenon elucidates why interjections might have been misconceived as some sort of protolanguage. Formal Constraints: A third explanation for the similarities between interjections across different languages refers to formal constraints. To clarify this point I need to go a bit farther back. Even though interjections might not elicit a response from the hearer, they do serve nonetheless a communicative purpose: they do mean something, and this meaning is expressed orally. Now, the usage of interjections and especially which interjection is used depends on the context or circumstances and the mental process in the speaker. Different interjections have different functions which concern the hearer. Thus, interjections are an important communicative means for the processing of the common communicative system of speaker and listener. The communicative function of the interjections requires an extremely economic form: the phonetic units of interjections are of minimal complexity due to the shortness and the simple forms. Besides, their prosodic features facilitate their identification in the ongoing discourse. The argument that interjections are similar because of formal constraints is as follows: Aufgrund der formalen Erfordernisse, die durch die funktionalen Zwecke des Gesamtbereichs der Interjektion bedingt sind, bieten sich bei der Sprachbildung nicht beliebig viele Arten von Mitteln an, die diesem Zweck optimal genügen. Die Verwendung kleinster Einheiten und deren Kombinatorik ist optimal geeignet, den funktional geforderten Ökonomiebedürfnissen Rechnung zu tragen. So ist es nicht erstaunlich, dass Sprachen unterschiedlichsten Typs und ohne Rücksicht auf die Bildungsformen zu diesem Mittel der Interjektionsbildung gegriffen haben. Somit ergibt sich eine Erklärungsweise für die Übereinstimmung von Interjektionen in den verschiedenen Sprachen, die nicht auf deren 'Vorsprachlichkeit' zurückzugreifen braucht. So in principle their universality is traced back to formal constraints due to economic reasons. Tesnière observes with regard to the semantic complexity of interjections: 'certaines interjections arrivent même à exprimer des états d'âme et d'esprit si nuancés et si complexes, qu'elles en disent à elles seules plus qu'une phrase entière, et qu'il faut de longues périphrases pour en analyser et en définir le contenu sémantique'. This is another criterion for the economic aspect of interjections: they express in a clear and brief manner what is going on in the speaker's mind, and the listener can understand easily and without delay what is being expressed. All the above mentioned efforts to account for the quasi-universality of (some primary) interjections make sense to a certain extent, and I presume the truth lies somewhere in a blend between all of them. Nevertheless, I need to stress that, for the most part, interjections differ considerably cross-linguistically and are often among 'the most characteristic peculiarities of individual cultures'.
.The subject of my thesis has as its starting point a didactic aim: that of the qualitative improvement of the teaching/learning of French to/from an audience of Reunionese children. In pursuit of this goal, I have set myself the goal of developing a benchmark for assessing the morphosyntactic skills of children in Reunion Island's large kindergarten section. Enriched in particular by recent research related to the theme of the contact of languages in Creolo-French-speaking lands, my work as a didactician has tried to reconcile, or at least to confront, a sociolinguistic variationist posture with that, classically more structuralist, of a grammarian "standard-setter" in a school setting. I thus deal, from a theoretical and pragmatic point of view, with the problem of a binarized grammatical evaluation, in a diglostic context of close language contacts, where interlectal practices are legion. By considering, from a holistic perspective, questions relating to the development of reference standards and the collection of oral data from small non-reading schoolchildren, my research is actually at the crossroads of sociolinguistics, language didactics, educational sciences but also psycholinguistics and descriptive linguistics. The report of my work is divided into four parts. PART 1: Following a general introduction, the first part of my typed text shows the need for an assessment of the linguistic skills of Réunionese pupils at the end of nursery school. It also describes the general objectives, postures and intentions underlying this evaluation. The gap between the language of the school and the language of the home is considered on Reunion Island as an aggravating factor in the educational difficulties encountered by many Reunionese pupils from the very beginning of their schooling. It would seem that to become good readers, many of them do not have sufficient skills as speakers of the French language. Among the remediation proposals proposed so far by researchers who have dealt with the subject, it is often recommended that the skills acquired by students in Creole, considered their L1, be used as a basis from kindergarten onwards to compose a strategy for teaching French as a second language. Recently, the educational policies officially posted for the Academy also suggest, in a more or less vague way, the need to take into account Creole. In this perspective, which is certainly commendable if one refers to the work of didacticians and psycholinguists on strong forms of teaching in a bilingual context (e.g. Baker, Hamers and Blanc, Cummins), two central questions nevertheless appear which should therefore be raised, but which until now have hardly been asked: -What is the quality of Creole spoken by "Creole" children today? Do the little schoolchildren from Reunion, and especially those who encounter difficulties in French, really master Creole? The analysis of recent sociolinguistic works relating to language contacts and the expansion of the use of interlecte in the Reunionese community (Prudent, Ledegen, Watin, Souprayen-Cavery, Rapanoël.).), taking into account the remarks of local primary school teachers on the shortcomings of young pupils not only in French but also in Creole, and the results of surveys declaring an increase in the "transmission" of French by Reunionese mothers, led me to think that doubt on this subject is permitted or at least that the assumption "Creole L1" is to be qualified. In order to better situate the purpose and goal of my work, I therefore began by demonstrating that the situation in terms of language practices is complex and, consequently, that the didactic orientations would become more sensitive and anchored in the local situation if they were based on concrete points of reference concerning the actual degree of mastery of the two codes in question by the students. How, in fact, can we claim to be able to exploit the knowledge acquired in one language (a priori L1-créole) in order to better appropriate the other (a priori L2-français), without having taken full measure of the degree of mastery of the two languages involved? While work has begun on the communicative skills of kindergarten students (Fioux and Marimoutou), my research on local "assessments" conducted so far reveals that researchers have no relatively detailed assessment of the current language skills of Reunionese children, on the one hand in French, before the transition to written French, after three years of schooling explicitly focused on acquiring the basics of oral French, and on the other hand in Creole. Equally disconcerting, given the educational challenges, it appears that there are also no assessment tools designed for the local situation, and therefore adapted for the collection and analysis of these oral language skills among young children, whereas we are in a former French colony with a sociolinguistic situation rooted in diglossia. On what basis can we then rely to affirm that the Reunionese students of today, who are referred to en masse as "Creolophones", possess solid language skills in Creole and gaps in French when they engage in the systematic process of learning to read? It is on the basis of these questions and observations that I draft a first constituency of the objective of my work. It is a question of asking the prolegomena of an assessment assessment, linguistic, comparative, in Creole and French, whose methodological foundations would be explained, argued, but also contextualized and updated for a public of learners at the end of a large nursery section in Reunion. The aim is to provide teachers of languages working for and with small schoolchildren in Reunion with a tool that is sufficiently detailed to enrich reflection on French teaching/learning strategies, "possibly" based on the knowledge of these pupils in Creole. Although the delimitations I am proposing to establish are an integral part of the evaluation process, they are upstream of the act of evaluation. More specifically, it is a question of building an operational evaluation frame of reference presenting evaluation criteria, reference standards and pre-tested tests with a sample of children of large section, in French and Creole. Once this purpose has been clarified, I set the initial parameters of this evaluation process. Understanding it above all as "a reflection on relationships to values", I then position myself, after an epistemological approach to this not insignificant act, in favour of an evaluation that makes sense. Following in particular Hadji, Lecointe, Bonniol and Vial or Ardoino and Berger on their questioning of the technicality of docimology in search of an illusory objectivity, I undertake, like them, to shift the priority of the correctness of the results towards the logic and transparency of an objectivized process, leading to a relevant result that can be understood, located, relativized according to a transparent reading grid and the intentions underlying it. To do this, I then borrow from the educational sciences, and in particular G. Figari, the concept of referentialization, with its triple status, operational, methodological and scientific. If they were originally designed to carry out evaluations of systems (schools, training systems, curricula, etc.), I show that the general principles of referentialisation are in fact entirely transposable to the study I am conducting. Having this common thread, my referentialization begins, in a first step, with a work of reflexivity, to try to explain and situate my own posture as an evaluation designer, which engages me in an ethical responsibility. It is above all a question of taking a step back from the power held and to which I am subjected in this work of gathering and using information of social value. I therefore strive to pose and understand the social and individual issues related to this act, but also, in reference to the subjectivity inherent in any research in the humanities (de Robillard), to self-position myself in relation to my own representations and inclinations regarding the choice of a referentialization activity. A second step arising from the first also allows me to clarify my intentions in this evaluation. After a review of the pathways available to me, I conclude that in relation to the objectives, they are closer to evaluation-appraisal than evaluation-measurement and lead me to favour a qualitative approach. PART 2: The second part of my thesis, which relates the exploratory phase of my referentialization, is entirely dedicated to the modelling stage of my evaluation object. First, I report on the theoretical investigations I conducted in order to define the object to be evaluated, namely the object language. The first step is to position myself in the debate on the (im)possibility(s) of delimiting boundaries between Creole and French, which opposes structuralists and variationists, and even variationists between them. To do this, I approach the history of the contact of the languages of Reunion, from the plantation society to the departmentalized society, and compare the concepts that served as filters to describe the contact of Creole/French languages (diglossia, continuum, interlecte, macrosystem). Finally, I come to find in de Robillard's arguments, in his broader reflection on the definition of a language, the bases that push me to adopt, for the precise needs of the evaluation I am aiming for, a solid conception of the language, leading me to see Creole and French from a binarized angle. For all that, I do not abandon the study of the phenomena of mixtures noted by the Reunionese teachers among their pupils and that some (didacticians and pedagogues) praise as an asset or, on the contrary, criticize as a handicap, or even associate with the manifestation of a "semi-linguism", compared to the speeches of monolinguals. If my inclination for sociolinguistics leads me to see mixtures as some kind of discursive mode in their linguistic repertoire and to refute a treatment of mixtures from the point of view of parasitages, the question I ask myself as a didactician seeking to improve the teaching/learning process of French is the following: in the end, how can evaluators be allowed to determine, independently of recognition of the linguistic and pragmatic ability of these young pupils to "juggle" with two codes to arrive at communicating, whether the mixtures made are indicative of a) tactics of "compensating" for gaps in one language and/or the other (the skills then being better in one language than the other or insufficient in both languages), or b) relatively good "mastery" of the two codes (the skills being good in one language as well as the other), which calls for different remediation and/or teaching methods? With this in mind, I have decided to draw up an inventory of research focused on the language and linguistic evaluation of "bilingual" people. I am particularly interested in the treatment of the problem of mixtures, from the most "closed" (cf. the works of Titone, Fioux, Genelot et al.), to the most "open" (cf. the works of Moore, Cavalli, Stubbe and Peña.). By weighing them against my objectives, it seems to me that, for my type of comparative assessment, requiring quite distinct target languages, the binarized approach that can answer my initial questions proves to be relevant. Continuing my theoretical investigations, I refine my research framework by determining what a good speaker of a language implies. By approaching the notions of competence vs performance, by reviewing the points of view of language didacticians (Canale and Swain, De Pietro, Cuq, Beacco, Springer, Castellotti,.), interactionists (Hymes, Vasseur), psycholinguists (Lentin, Florin, Gombert.), pedagogues (Boisseau), researchers specializing in language evaluation (Rondal, Comblain, Piérart, Muller.).), but also by taking into consideration the directives concerning the mastery of language (Ministry of National Education) and the recommendations concerning the appropriation of foreign languages (Council of Europe), I decide to focus my reference frame on the evaluation of morphosyntactic skills, and to privilege as well the collection of samples of induced language as of spontaneous language. My exploratory phase also includes field investigations. I begin by describing the places of investigation (located mainly among Benedictine pupils of large nursery section but also at Tampon and Pau), the sampling (choice of schools, classes, children) and the means I used (ethnological approach, filmed interactions, activities carried out, protocols followed). In addition to providing me with a better knowledge of the characteristics of these young witnesses, thanks in particular to a participant observation, and to testing the relevance of different supports, tasks, evaluation approaches and inter-electoral speech transcription systems, I show that this field work allows me to make several observations that corroborate the hypothesis I had formulated during my theoretical investigations. By crossing various salient factors that I was able to identify, such as language practices (which I label without hierarchy "bi-linguisme", "mix-linguisme", "dominance in Creole" and "dominance in French"), linguistic representations, attitudes towards the school norm and the ability to discriminate between the two linguistic codes, both by the witnesses and by myself in the role of evaluator, I was indeed able to measure, in parallel with promising results, the complexity and the limits of a binarized evaluation in terms of data collection and analysis, particularly when the evaluator is faced with certain language profiles of children in this context of close language contact. Indeed, if a binary apprehension, deliberately and "classically" smoothed for teaching purposes seems appropriate for assessing and comparing the quality of children's skills in Creole and French, the local context of contact of close languages, marked by diglossic representations and far from being limited to well delimited and delimitable binary practices, leads me to think that a reference of this type is likely to have a limited scope. It is a hypothesis that it will then be up to me to verify in the continuation of my work. PART 3: Informed by a better knowledge of the potential, limits and concrete constraints of a binarised approach, the next stage of my referentialisation begins with the choice of criteria and indicators that will make it possible to evaluate young children who are not readers, orally, in French and Creole. This is the subject of the third part of my typewriting. Before getting to the heart of the matter, I begin with an indispensable preamble, it seems to me, on the balance of power at stake in normative activity (between prescription and description, priorities, relativity and arbitrariness, legitimacy(ies).). On this sensitive subject, subject to strong polemics, as well in the scientific community in general as among speakers evolving in the Reunionese community, I present in a double posture of sociolinguist and didactician, my own positioning in relation to the notion of "norm(s)". In order for my approach to be better understood and because I consider it essential to step back from a concept that often marginalizes those who use it (outside practitioners), I explicitly state the relative, constructed and yet necessary character, in my case, of the standard for this frame of reference. I also explain my legitimacy as a designer of normative references from a variationist point of view, within the theoretical framework chosen for this evaluation work. To construct the normative references of my tool, the methodological protocol that I decide to borrow is the following: 1. from already recorded descriptions of uses, - in Creole (then exist only scientific articles, grammars, dictionaries that describe only the norms of adult use (Staudacher, Watbled, Chaudenson, Ramassamy, Cellier.)), - and in French (including work on standard French (Riegel et al., Arrivé et al.)), Wagner and Pinchon.), spoken French (Gadet, Blanche-Benvéniste, Sauvageot.), regional French (Carayol, Ledegen, Béniamino and Baggioni), French spoken by children (Florin, Boisseau, Comblain.), 2. synthesize and compare these works, not only with each other but also with my own research and native speaker skills on the morphosyntactic items in question, 3.in order to be able to then proceed to a choice of criteria, whose relevance will be justified each time, for the language provoked and the spontaneous language, 4. to propose reference standards (indicators) making it possible to evaluate these criteria. For Creole, at this stage it is a question of provisional standards, 5. adjusting and updating the latter for an audience of young children, by analysing the spontaneous speech in Creole of Reunionese kindergarten children ("reference informants"), dominant in Creole or in two languages. A little more than three hundred pages of my typewriting report on the development and choice of these criteria and indicators. They quickly reveal a clear qualitative and quantitative imbalance between the state of knowledge in Creole and French. In a grammatical work, descriptive but also prescriptive, which must sort and complete, for Creole, existing descriptions certainly interesting but often contradictory, relieved of emerging varieties and completely incomplete as regards child forms, I approach the updating of the verbal theme (flexional system, analytical system, index i, truncation rules), personal pronouns, the valence of verbal themes, interrogative modality and negative modality. PART 4: The fourth and last part of my referentialization is first devoted to measuring the general parameters of designing assessment tasks and collecting data for and from children. Following a review of the literature on the subject (notably the work of Rondal, Moreau and Richelle, Khomsi, Florin, Brédart, Gombert, Marquillo.), I then put forward two considerations relating to relevance and validity criteria in an evaluation, when collecting data. They concern the types of activities generally proposed in language assessments (comprehension, production, detection and correction of statements), and the tasks making it possible to collect observable behaviours (with a focus on their scope, bias, supports and instructions). I close this review with my own remarks, criticisms and impressions on the experience of developing data collection tools that I was able to develop on the ground in Réunion. In a second step, I present and comment on the pilot tests I pre-tested with a hundred children of large section, during individual evaluation sessions, filmed and analyzed. This test bank is composed of 39 sheets classified according to whether it is a question of assessing competencies in Creole, competencies in French or "bilingual" competencies (translation, codic discrimination). These sheets present the evaluation tasks I have developed and pre-tested for feasibility, relevance and sensitivity. They detail, for each syntactic item evaluated, the criteria taken into consideration, the type of activity chosen, the expected performances, the supports of the test, the indications on its organisation, the instructions, but also the primer statements possibly provided for the evaluator, an analysis of examples of "correct" and "incorrect" answers collected from the pre-tested witnesses, and finally general comments on the test in question (difficulties, variants, precautions.). CONCLUSION: my typewriting ends with a general conclusion. First of all, it summarizes the different steps of my referencing as well as their results, and comes back on the improvements that could be made. It then presents the contributions of this research work, which also raises questions and allows proposals to be made. The contributions include in particular : -Theoretical but also field research with a hundred Reunionese children which allows the provision of an operational assessment tool, adapted to the characteristics of small Reunionese schoolchildren of large nursery section and proposing detailed tasks, tested and concrete normative benchmarks. These cards can be used as they stand, in the end as much by researchers in language didactics as by practitioners, who assess the oral grammatical skills of young children in Reunion Island. - In general, a methodological perspective concerning the collection and analysis of oral data from young non-reading schoolchildren in a diglostic context, and in a situation of contact with nearby languages. - An enrichment of the work of synchronic description of the peripheral French morphosyntax, but especially of the Creole of Reunion Island, in particular, a) by taking into account the intrasystemic and intersystemic variations (the current emerging forms due to the internal dynamics of Creole and to the contact with French, the childlike forms, the language of the young people), b) by the synthetic approach adopted (comparative analysis of work, elaboration of summary tables). But this work of referentialization also raises questions for research, on several points: On the didactic level : - This study showing the essential consideration of linguistic representations, language practices, pragmatic skills of students during the process of collecting oral data, what validity, what relevance can have smoothed evaluations, hermetic to the situation of contact of close languages and the specificities of children in Reunion, such as academic evaluations in French, duplications of a-contextualized metropolitan evaluations, designed for an already French-speaking monolingual public? What relevance do the proposals of didactic and explicit use, "as is", of Creole "L1" as a springboard to reach French L2, whereas the pre-tests carried out during my research already show a majority of witnesses presenting basic grammatical skills in French deficiencies, but also schoolchildren (even dominant Creolophones), encountering difficulties of expression, even comprehension, in Creole? Wouldn't most of the grammatical descriptions currently available hardly take into account the intra- and intersystemic variations of Creole, have repercussions on the scope of the didactic proposals for teaching French in partnership with Creole?In terms of research on language assessment: -The binary perspective chosen in this work, considered relevant for comparing language skills in Creole and French, has limitations and cannot, in particular, take into consideration, as it stands, all children's language profiles (for example, non-discriminatory mix-linguals). Beyond a Creole/French assessment, what alternative do we have to assess the language skills, especially morpho-syntactic, of these children whose (a)meshed speech and without a target "language" cannot be analysed in this framework? Should these "bilingual" skills be measured for themselves, without reference to Creole and French, as some researchers try to do relatively marginally in other linguistic contexts (e.g. Stubbe and Peña for American-Hispanic bilinguals in the United States)? But is what seems possible for "non collateral" languages possible for genetically and structurally related languages? Indeed, is a bilingual evaluation taking as a normative reference the morphosyntax of the entire Reunion macrosystem, thus a "fluid" language, where the evaluator does not have explicit/explicable reference standards a priori and therefore justified/justifiable, conceivable? Although it allows its pedagogical relevance to be seen, and meets the search for meaning criterion, how would it justify its objectivization when the evaluator only"feels" that it is being said and thus holds within himself "moving" rules, elusive as a native speaker of the interlecte? How can this unavoidable involvement, which derogates from the basis of any evaluation, be managed when normative references are internalized and a priori not externalisable?This research work finally makes it possible to make recommendations and proposals for areas of work concerning the teaching of French in partnership with Creole: - To endeavour to identify the conditions of awareness of codes by currently discriminating children (without school guidance), for the study of ways allowing schoolchildren, from the small section, to discriminate prototypical traits of Creole and French. - To take greater account of the heterogeneity of the language profiles of Réunionese children, who should not be considered as a linguistically homogeneous mass (even in schools in so-called disadvantaged neighbourhoods), and to continue the reflection on taking into account the Reunionese language macrosystem. – To complete the research on Creole currently spoken by the Reunionese population (children, youth, adults) and open these descriptions to all variations. - To make current the grammatical description books and to encourage the publication of scientific works (not purist), "accessible" to the public of students (future teachers) in training but also to that of teachers already in post. – To take more into account and change the negative representations of the local population (especially the parents of pupils) concerning the partnership (direct or indirect) with Creole. This subject being the object of strong tensions on the school ground, to study possibilities of alternative approaches (exploitation of the television medium, creation/exploitation of parallel educational structures as associations of the "ti lékol maron" type or leisure centres), privileging the mastery of language with a playful aspect, in a "calmed" context. ; Le sujet de ma thèse a pour point de départ une visée didactique : celle de l'amélioration qualitative de l'enseignement/apprentissage du français à/par un public d'enfants réunionnais. Dans la poursuite de cette finalité, je me suis fixé pour but l'élaboration d'un référentiel d'évaluation des compétences morphosyntaxiques d'enfants réunionnais en grande section de maternelle à La Réunion. Enrichi notamment des récentes recherches liées à la thématique du contact de langues en terres créolo-francophones, mon travail de didacticienne a tenté de concilier, ou du moins de confronter une posture de sociolinguiste variationniste à celle, classiquement plus structuraliste, de grammairienne « poseuse de normes » dans un cadre scolaire. Je traite ainsi, d'un point de vue théorique et pragmatique, la problématique d'une évaluation grammaticale binarisée, dans un contexte diglossique de contacts de langues proches, où les pratiques interlectales sont légion. En considérant, dans une perspective holistique, des questions relatives à l'élaboration de normes de référence et au recueil de données orales auprès de petits écoliers non lecteurs, ma recherche se trouve en réalité inscrite à la croisée de la sociolinguistique, de la didactique des langues, des sciences de l'éducation mais aussi de la psycholinguistique et de la linguistique descriptive.Le compte rendu de mon travail se scinde en quatre parties.PARTIE 1 : suite à une introduction générale, la première partie de mon tapuscrit montre la nécessité d'une évaluation bilan des compétences linguistiques des élèves réunionnais à la fin de l'école maternelle. Elle décrit également les objectifs généraux, les postures et les intentions qui sous-tendent cette évaluation.L'écart entre la langue de l'école et la langue de la maison est considéré à La Réunion comme un facteur aggravant des difficultés scolaires que rencontrent de nombreux élèves réunionnais dès les débuts de leur scolarisation. Il semblerait que pour devenir notamment de bons lecteurs, beaucoup d'entre eux ne disposent pas de compétences suffisantes en tant que locuteurs de la langue française. Parmi les propositions de remédiation proposées jusqu'à présent par les chercheurs ayant traité du sujet, il est souvent préconisé de prendre appui, dès la maternelle, sur les compétences acquises par les élèves en créole, considéré comme leur L1, pour composer une stratégie d'enseignement du français, qualifiée de langue seconde. Depuis peu, les politiques éducatives officiellement affichées pour l'Académie laissent entendre également à leur tour, de manière plus ou moins floue, la nécessité de prendre en compte le créole.Dans cette optique, certes louable si on se réfère à des travaux de didacticiens et de psycholinguistes sur les formes fortes d'enseignement en contexte bilingue (ex : Baker, Hamers et Blanc, Cummins), apparaissent cependant deux questions centrales qui devraient dès lors être soulevées, mais qui jusqu'à présent n'ont guère été posées : -Quelle est la qualité du créole parlé par les enfants « créolophones » d'aujourd'hui ?-Ces petits écoliers réunionnais, et notamment ceux qui rencontrent des difficultés en français, maîtrisent-ils vraiment le créole ? L'analyse des récents travaux de sociolinguistique ayant trait aux contacts de langues et à l'expansion de l'usage de l'interlecte dans la communauté réunionnaise (Prudent, Ledegen, Watin, Souprayen-Cavery, Rapanoël.), la prise en compte des remarques d'enseignants locaux du premier degré sur les lacunes des jeunes élèves non seulement en français mais également en créole, et celle des résultats de sondages déclarant une augmentation de la « transmission » du français par les mères réunionnaises, m'ont amenée à penser que le doute à ce sujet est permis ou du moins que le postulat « créole L1 » est à nuancer. Afin de mieux situer la finalité et le but de mon travail, j'ai donc entrepris dans un premier temps de démontrer que la donne en matière de pratiques langagières s'avère complexe et par conséquent, que les orientations didactiques gagneraient en sensibilité et en ancrage dans la situation locale, si elles s'appuyaient sur des points de repères concrets concernant le degré de maîtrise effective actuelle des deux codes en question par les élèves. Comment, en effet, prétendre pouvoir exploiter les acquis dans une langue (a priori L1-créole) pour mieux s'approprier l'autre (a priori L2-français), sans avoir pris la pleine mesure du degré de maîtrise des deux langues impliquées? Si des travaux ont été entamés concernant les compétences communicatives des écoliers en maternelle (Fioux et Marimoutou), mes recherches sur les « évaluations » locales menées jusque-là révèlent en effet que les chercheurs ne disposent d'aucun bilan relativement détaillé des compétences linguistiques actuelles des enfants réunionnais, d'une part en français, avant le passage au français écrit, après trois années de scolarisation pourtant explicitement axées sur l'acquisition des bases du français oral, et d'autre part en créole . Tout aussi déconcertant, eu égard aux enjeux scolaires, il apparaît qu'on ne dispose pas non plus d'outils d'évaluation pensés pour la situation locale, donc adaptés pour le recueil et l'analyse de ces compétences linguistiques orales auprès de jeunes enfants, alors qu'on se trouve dans une ancienne colonie française présentant une situation sociolinguistique ancrée dans la diglossie. Sur quelle base peut-on alors s'appuyer pour affirmer que les élèves réunionnais d'aujourd'hui, qu'on qualifie en masse de « créolophones », possèdent de solides compétences linguistiques en créole et des lacunes en français lorsqu'ils s'engagent dans le processus d'apprentissage systématique de la lecture ? C'est à partir de ces questionnements et de ces constats que j'ébauche une première circonscription de l'objectif de mon travail. Il s'agit de poser les prolégomènes d'une évaluation bilan, linguistique, comparée, en créole et en français, dont les soubassements méthodologiques seraient explicités, argumentés, mais aussi contextualisés et actualisés pour un public d'apprenants en fin de grande section de maternelle à La Réunion. Le but est de doter les didacticiens des langues œuvrant pour et auprès de petits écoliers réunionnais d'un outil suffisamment fin pour permettre d'enrichir la réflexion sur les stratégies d'enseignement/apprentissage du français, « éventuellement » à partir des acquis de ces élèves en créole. Bien que s'inscrivant en amont de l'acte d'évaluer, les délimitations que je propose d'établir font partie intégrante du processus d'évaluation. Plus précisément, il s'agit concrètement de construire un référentiel d'évaluation opérationnel présentant des critères d'évaluation, des normes de références et des épreuves pré-testées auprès d'un échantillon d'enfants de grande section, en français et en créole. Une fois ce dessein explicité, je pose les paramètres liminaires de ce processus d'évaluation. Le concevant avant tout comme « une réflexion sur les rapports aux valeurs », je me positionne alors, après une approche épistémologique de cet acte non anodin, en faveur d'une évaluation qui fasse sens. Suivant notamment Hadji, Lecointe, Bonniol et Vial ou encore Ardoino et Berger sur leurs remises en cause de la technicité de la docimologie à la recherche d'une objectivité illusoire, j'entreprends, comme eux, de déplacer la priorité de la justesse des résultats vers la logique et la transparence d'un processus objectivisé, amenant à un résultat pertinent qu'on peut comprendre, situer, relativiser en fonction d'une grille de lecture transparente et des intentions qui la sous-tendent. Pour ce faire, j'emprunte alors aux sciences de l'éducation, et notamment à G. Figari, le concept de référentialisation, au triple statut, opératoire, méthodologique et scientifique. S'ils ont été pensés originellement pour mener des évaluations de dispositifs (établissements scolaires, dispositifs de formation, curricula, etc.), je montre que les principes généraux de la référentialisation s'avèrent en réalité tout à fait transposables à l'étude que je mène. Nantie de ce fil rouge, ma référentialisation commence, dans une première étape, par un travail de réflexivité, pour tenter d'expliciter et situer ma propre posture de conceptrice d'évaluation, qui m'engage dans une responsabilité éthique. Il s'agit avant tout de prendre du recul sur le pouvoir détenu et auquel je suis soumise dans ce travail de recueil et d'utilisation d'une information à valeur sociale. Je m'attèle donc à poser et comprendre les enjeux sociaux et individuels liés à cet acte, mais également, en référence à la subjectivité inhérente à toute recherche en sciences humaines (de Robillard), à m'auto-positionner par rapport à mes propres représentations et inclinations concernant le choix d'une activité de référentialisation. Une deuxième étape découlant de la première me permet par ailleurs de préciser mes intentions dans cette évaluation. Après une revue des cheminements qui me sont offerts, j'en conclus qu'en rapport avec les objectifs visés, celles-ci se rapprochent au final plus de l'évaluation-appréciation que de l'évaluation-mesure et m'amènent à privilégier une approche qualitative.PARTIE 2 : la deuxième partie de ma thèse, qui relate la phase exploratoire de ma référentialisation, est entièrement dédiée à l'étape de la modélisation de mon objet d'évaluation. Je rends tout d'abord compte des investigations théoriques que j'ai menées afin de circonscrire l'objet à évaluer, à savoir l'objet langue. Il s'agit dans un premier temps de me positionner dans le débat sur la/les (im)possibilité(s) de délimitation de frontières entre créole et français, qui oppose structuralistes et variationnistes, et même variationnistes entre eux. J'aborde, pour ce faire, l'histoire du contact des langues de La Réunion, de la société de plantation à la société départementalisée, et confronte les concepts qui ont servi de filtres pour décrire le contact de langues créole/français (diglossie, continuum, interlecte, macrosystème). J'en viens finalement à trouver dans les arguments de de Robillard, dans sa réflexion plus large sur la définition d'une langue, les bases qui me poussent à adopter, pour les besoins précis de l'évaluation que je vise, une conception solide de la langue, amenant à voir le créole et le français sous un angle binarisé.Pour autant, je n'abandonne pas l'étude des phénomènes de mélanges relevés par les enseignants réunionnais chez leurs élèves et que d'aucuns (didacticiens et pédagogues) encensent comme un atout ou, au contraire, fustigent comme un handicap, voire associent à la manifestation d'un « semi-linguisme », comparativement aux discours de monolingues. Si mon inclination pour la sociolinguistique m'amène à voir les mélanges comme un quelconque mode discursif dans leur répertoire langagier et à réfuter un traitement des mélanges du point de vue de parasitages, la question que je me pose en tant que didacticienne cherchant à améliorer le processus d'enseignement/apprentissage du français est la suivante : en fin de compte, comment permettre à des évaluateurs de déterminer, indépendamment d'une reconnaissance de la capacité linguistique et pragmatique de ces jeunes élèves à "jongler" avec deux codes pour arriver à communiquer, si les mélanges effectués sont indicateurs :-de tactiques de « compensation » de lacunes dans l'une et/ou l'autre langue (les compétences étant alors meilleures dans une langue que dans l'autre ou insuffisantes dans les deux langues),-ou d'une « maîtrise » relativement bonne des deux codes (les compétences étant bonnes dans une langue comme dans l'autre), ce qui appelle des remédiations et/ou des pistes pédagogiques différentes ? Je décide dans cette optique d'établir l'état des lieux des recherches axées sur l'évaluation langagière et linguistique de « bilingues ». Je m'intéresse notamment aux traitements de la problématique des mélanges, des plus « fermés » (cf. les travaux de Titone, Fioux, Genelot et al.), aux plus « ouverts » (cf. les travaux de Moore, Cavalli, Stubbe et Peña.). En les soupesant en regard de mes objectifs, il m'apparaît alors que, pour mon type d'évaluation comparée, requérant des langues cibles bien distinctes, l'approche binarisée qui peut répondre à mes questions de départ s'avère pertinente. Poursuivant mes investigations théoriques, j'affine mon cadre de recherche en déterminant ce que sous-entend être un bon locuteur d'une langue. En abordant les notions de compétence vs performance, en passant en revue les points de vue de didacticiens des langues (Canale et Swain, De Pietro, Cuq, Beacco, Springer, Castellotti,.), d'interactionnistes (Hymes, Vasseur), de psycholinguistes (Lentin, Florin, Gombert.), de pédagogues (Boisseau), de chercheurs spécialisés dans l'évaluation du langage (Rondal, Comblain, Piérart, Muller.), mais aussi en prenant en considération les directives en matière de maîtrise du langage (Ministère de l'Education Nationale) et les préconisations concernant l'appropriation des langues étrangères (Conseil de l'Europe), je décide de centrer mon référentiel sur l'évaluation des compétences morphosyntaxiques, et de privilégier aussi bien le recueil d'échantillons de langage provoqué que de langage spontané.Ma phase exploratoire comprend également des investigations de terrain. Je commence par décrire les lieux d'enquête (situés en grande partie auprès d'élèves bénédictins de grande section de maternelle mais également au Tampon et à Pau), l'échantillonnage (choix des écoles, des classes, des enfants) et les moyens dont j'ai usés (démarche ethnologique, interactions filmées, activités réalisées, protocoles suivis). En sus de me fournir une meilleure connaissance des caractéristiques de ces jeunes témoins, grâce notamment à une observation participante, et de tester la pertinence de différents supports, tâches, approches d'évaluation et de systèmes de transcription de la parole interlectale, je montre que ce travail de terrain me permet de faire plusieurs constats qui corroborent l'hypothèse que j'avais formulée lors de mes investigations théoriques. En croisant divers facteurs saillants que j'ai pu relever, tels que les pratiques langagières (que j'étiquette sans hiérarchie « bi-linguisme », « mix-linguisme », « dominance en créole » et « dominance en français »), les représentations linguistiques, les attitudes face à la norme scolaire et la capacité à discriminer les deux codes linguistiques, aussi bien par les témoins que par moi-même dans le rôle d'évaluateur, j'ai pu en effet mesurer, parallèlement à des résultats prometteurs, la complexité et les limites d'une évaluation binarisée en termes de recueil et d'analyse de données, notamment lorsque l'évaluateur est face à certains profils langagiers d'enfants dans ce contexte de contact de langues proches. En effet, si une appréhension binaire, volontairement et « classiquement » lissée pour des besoins didactiques semble convenir pour évaluer, comparer la qualité des compétences d'enfants en créole et en français, le contexte local de contact de langues proches, empreint de représentations diglossiques et loin de se restreindre à des pratiques binaires bien délimitées et délimitables, m'amène à penser qu'un référentiel de ce type est susceptible d'avoir une portée limitée. C'est une hypothèse qu'il m'appartiendra alors de vérifier dans la suite de mon travail.PARTIE 3 : éclairée d'une meilleure connaissance du potentiel, des bornes et des astreintes concrètes d'une approche binarisée, l'étape suivante de ma référentialisation s'engage sur le choix des critères et des indicateurs qui permettront d'évaluer de jeunes enfants non lecteurs, à l'oral, en français et en créole. Ceci fait l'objet de la troisième partie de mon tapuscrit.Avant d'entrer dans le vif du sujet, je commence par un préambule indispensable, il me semble, sur les rapports de force en jeu dans l'activité normative (entre prescription et description, priorités, relativité et arbitraire, légitimité(s).). Sur ce sujet sensible, soumis à de fortes polémiques, aussi bien dans la communauté scientifique de manière générale que parmi les locuteurs évoluant dans la communauté réunionnaise, je présente dans une posture double de sociolinguiste et de didacticienne, mon propre positionnement par rapport à la notion de « norme(s) ». Pour que ma démarche soit mieux comprise et parce que je juge essentielle cette prise de recul face à un concept marginalisant souvent celui/celle qui y a recours (en dehors des praticiens), je pose explicitement le caractère relatif, construit et pourtant nécessaire, dans mon cas, de la norme pour ce référentiel. J'explique par ailleurs également ma légitimité de conceptrice de références normatives d'un point de vue variationniste, dans le cadre théorique choisi pour ce travail d'évaluation. Pour construire les références normatives de mon outil, le protocole méthodologique que je décide d'emprunter est le suivant :1.partir de descriptions déjà consignées des usages,-en créole (n'existent alors que des articles scientifiques, des grammaires, des dictionnaires qui ne décrivent que les normes d'usage d'adultes (Staudacher, Watbled, Chaudenson, Ramassamy, Cellier.)),-et en français (comprenant les travaux sur le français standard (Riegel et al., Arrivé et al., Wagner et Pinchon.), le français parlé (Gadet, Blanche-Benvéniste, Sauvageot.), le français régional (Carayol, Ledegen, Béniamino et Baggioni), le français parlé par les enfants (Florin, Boisseau, Comblain.)), 2.synthétiser et confronter ces travaux, non seulement entre eux mais également à mes propres recherches et compétences de locutrice native sur les items morphosyntaxiques en question, 3.afin de pouvoir procéder ensuite à un choix de critères, dont la pertinence sera à chaque fois justifiée, pour le langage provoqué et le langage spontané, 4. proposer des normes de références (indicateurs) permettant d'évaluer ces critères. Pour le créole, s'agissant à ce stade de normes provisoires,5.ajuster, actualiser ces dernières pour un public de jeunes enfants, en analysant le discours spontané en créole d'enfants réunionnais de maternelle (les « informateurs de référence»), dominants en créole ou bi-lingues.Un peu plus de trois centaines de pages de mon tapuscrit rendent compte de l'élaboration et du choix de ces critères et de ces indicateurs. Elles laissent rapidement voir un déséquilibre manifeste tant qualitatif que quantitatif entre l'état des connaissances en créole et en français. Dans un travail de grammairienne, descriptive mais également prescriptive, qui doit trier et compléter, pour le créole, des descriptions existantes certes intéressantes mais souvent contradictoires, délestées des variétés émergentes et complètement lacunaires en ce qui concerne les formes enfantines, j'aborde l'actualisation du thème verbal (système flexionnel, système analytique, indice i, règles de troncation), les pronoms personnels, la valence des thèmes verbaux, la modalité interrogative et la modalité négative. PARTIE 4 : la quatrième et dernière partie de ma référentialisation est d'abord consacrée à prendre la mesure des paramètres généraux de la conception de tâches d'évaluation et du recueil de données pour et auprès d'enfants. Suite à une revue de la littérature sur le sujet (notamment les travaux de Rondal, Moreau et Richelle, Khomsi, Florin, Brédart, Gombert, Marquillo.), je mets alors en avant deux considérations relatives aux critères de pertinence et de validité dans une évaluation, lors du recueil de données. Elles concernent les types d'activités généralement proposées dans les évaluations langagières (compréhension, production, détection et correction d'énoncés), et les tâches permettant de recueillir des comportements observables (avec un centrage sur leurs portées, biais, supports et consignes). Je clôture cette revue en apportant mes propres remarques, critiques et impressions sur l'expérience d'élaboration d'outils de recueil de données que j'ai pu développer sur le terrain réunionnais.Dans un deuxième temps, je présente et commente les épreuves pilotes que j'ai pré-testées auprès d'une centaine d'enfants de grande section, lors de séances d'évaluation individuelles, filmées et analysées.Cette banque d'épreuves est composée de 39 fiches classées selon qu'il s'agit d'évaluer des compétences en créole, des compétences en français ou des compétences « bilingues » (traduction, discrimination codique). Ces fiches présentent les tâches d'évaluation que j'ai élaborées et dont j'ai pré-testé la faisabilité, la pertinence et la sensibilité. Elles détaillent, pour chaque item syntaxique évalué, les critères pris en considération, le type d'activité choisi, les performances attendues, les supports de l'épreuve, les indications sur son organisation, les consignes, mais également les énoncés-amorces éventuellement prévus pour l'évaluateur, une analyse d'exemples de réponses "correctes" et "incorrectes" recueillis auprès des témoins pré-testés, et enfin des commentaires généraux sur l'épreuve en question (difficultés, variantes, précautions.). CONCLUSION : mon tapuscrit se clôt par une conclusion générale. Celle-ci synthétise tout d'abord les différentes étapes de ma référentialisation ainsi que leurs résultats, et revient sur les améliorations qui pourraient y être apportées. Elle présente dans un deuxième temps les apports de ce travail de recherche, qui soulève aussi des questionnements et permet de faire des propositions.Les apports comprennent notamment : -Une recherche théorique mais également de terrain auprès d'une centaine d'enfants réunionnais qui permet la mise à disposition d'un outil d'évaluation opératoire, adapté aux caractéristiques de petits écoliers réunionnais de grande section de maternelle et proposant des tâches détaillées, éprouvées et des repères normatifs concrets. Ces fiches sont utilisables en l'état, au final autant par des chercheurs en didactique des langues que par des praticiens, amenés à évaluer des compétences grammaticales orales de jeunes enfants à La Réunion.-De manière générale, un éclairage méthodologique concernant le recueil et l'analyse de données orales auprès de jeunes écoliers non lecteurs dans un contexte diglossique, et dans une situation de contact de langues proches.-Un enrichissement des travaux de description synchronique de la morphosyntaxe du français, mais surtout du créole de La Réunion, notamment :»par la prise en compte des variations intrasystémiques et intersystémiques (les formes émergentes actuelles dues à la dynamique interne du créole et au contact avec le français, les formes enfantines, le langage des jeunes), »par l'approche synthétique adoptée (analyse comparée de travaux, élaboration de tableaux récapitulatifs).Mais ce travail de référentialisation soulève également des questionnements pour la recherche, sur plusieurs points :Sur le plan didactique : -Cette étude montrant l'indispensable prise en compte des représentations linguistiques, des pratiques langagières, des compétences pragmatiques des élèves lors du processus de recueil de données orales, quelle validité, quelle pertinence peuvent avoir des évaluations lissées, hermétiques à la situation de contact de langues proches et aux spécificités des enfants réunionnais, comme les évaluations académiques en français, duplications d'évaluations métropolitaines a-contextualisées, conçues pour un public monolingue déjà francophone ?-Quelle pertinence ont les propositions d'exploitation didactique et explicite, « en l'état », du créole « L1 » comme tremplin pour atteindre le français L2, alors que les pré-tests menés lors de ma recherche laissent déjà entrevoir certes une majorité de témoins présentant des compétences grammaticales de base en français lacunaires, mais également des écoliers (même dominants créolophones), rencontrant des difficultés d'expression, voire de compréhension, en créole ?-La plupart des descriptions grammaticales actuellement disponibles ne prenant guère en compte les variations intra- et intersystémiques du créole, n'y aurait-il pas des répercussions sur la portée des propositions didactiques pour l'enseignement du français en partenariat avec le créole ? Sur le plan des recherches sur l'évaluation linguistique : -La perspective binaire choisie dans ce travail, jugée pertinente pour comparer des compétences linguistiques en créole et en français, présente des limites et ne peut notamment prendre en considération, en l'état, tous les profils langagiers d'enfants (par exemple, les mix-lingues non-discriminants). Au-delà d'une évaluation créole/français, quelle alternative avons-nous pour apprécier les compétences linguistiques, notamment morpho-syntaxiques, de ces enfants dont la parole tellement (a)maillée et sans « langue » cible ne peut être analysée dans ce cadre ? Faut-il mesurer ces compétences « bilingues » pour elles-mêmes, sans référence au créole et au français, comme tentent de le faire de manière relativement marginale certains chercheurs dans d'autres contextes linguistiques (ex : Stubbe et Peña pour des bilingues américano-hispanophones aux Etats-Unis) ? Mais ce qui semble possible pour des langues « non collatérales » l'est-il pour des langues génétiquement et structurellement proches ? En effet, une évaluation bilingue prenant comme référence normative la morphosyntaxe de l'ensemble du macrosystème réunionnais, donc une langue « fluide », où l'évaluateur ne dispose pas de normes de référence explicitées/explicitables a priori et donc justifiées/justifiables, est-elle envisageable ? Bien qu'elle laisse voir sa pertinence sur le plan pédagogique, et réponde au critère de recherche de sens, comment justifierait-elle son objectivisation lorsque l'évaluateur ne fait que « « (re)sentir » que ça se dit » et donc détient en lui-même des règles « mouvantes », insaisissables de locuteur natif de l'interlecte ? Comment gérer cette incontournable implication dérogeant aux bases de toute évaluation, lorsque les références normatives sont intériorisées et a priori non externalisables ?Ce travail de recherche permet enfin d'émettre des préconisations et propositions pour des pistes de travail concernant la didactique du français en partenariat avec le créole : -S'attacher à identifier les conditions de conscientisation des codes par des enfants actuellement discriminants (sans guidage scolaire), pour l'étude de pistes permettant aux écoliers, dès la petite section, de discriminer des traits prototypiques du créole et du français.-Prendre davantage en considération l'hétérogénéité des profils langagiers des enfants réunionnais qui ne sont pas à considérer comme une masse linguistiquement homogène (même dans les écoles de quartiers dits défavorisés) et continuer la réflexion sur la prise en compte du macrosystème langagier réunionnais.-Compléter les recherches sur le créole parlé actuellement par la population réunionnaise (enfants, jeunes, adultes) et ouvrir ces descriptions à toutes les variations.-Briser le caractère ésotérique des ouvrages de descriptions grammaticales actuels et encourager la publication d'ouvrages de vulgarisation, non puristes, « accessibles » au public des étudiants (futurs enseignants) en formation mais également à celui des enseignants déjà en poste.-Prendre davantage en compte et faire évoluer les représentations négatives de la population locale (notamment les parents d'élèves), concernant le partenariat (direct ou indirect) avec le créole. Ce sujet faisant l'objet de fortes tensions sur le terrain scolaire, étudier des possibilités d'approches alternatives (exploitation du médium télévisuel, création/exploitation de structures éducatives parallèles comme des associations de type « ti lékol maron » ou des centres de loisirs), privilégiant la maîtrise du langage avec un aspect ludique, dans un contexte « apaisé ».
Mención europea ; Este estudio analiza la escultura románica hispana en el marco del contexto político e ideológico de la lucha contra el Islam. La época del surgimiento y de la propagación del arte románico hispano, entre mediados del s. XI y mediados del s. XIII, es también un periodo marcado por el vertiginoso avance de la conquista cristiana de la Península y por el desarrollo de las cruzadas. La guerra territorial contra el Islam condicionó el mensaje que las autoridades eclesiásticas transmitieron a los fieles en forma de imagen en piedra. El papado, la orden benedictina de Cluny y los monarcas hispanos estuvieron al tiempo involucrados en la lucha ideológica o territorial contra el Islam y en la implantación de una red de iglesias románicas por el territorio hispano. El estudio de los cantares de gesta, de las fuentes monásticas y de las crónicas hispanas y de cruzada, permite comprobar la formación de una ideología antiislámica en Occidente que encontraría su correspondencia en la imagen monumental. En estas fuentes se observa la aparición del insulto como instrumento de combate doctrinal y de la calumnia como medio de construcción de una imagen peyorativa del enemigo religioso. Es entonces cuando se consolidan en Occidente la serie de tópicos en los que se encerrará al Islam durante largos siglos. Mahoma y sus secuaces serán calificados de "Anticristo", "mentirosos", "idólatras", "fornicadores", "animales irracionales", "politeístas", "seres crueles", y "bestias salvajes". La escultura románica fue depositaria de la ideología antiislámica presente en los textos monásticos, papales y cronísticos de combate contra el Islam, así como de una imagen difamatoria del enemigo religioso difundida por los cantares de gesta. Por ello, la metodología empleada para la elaboración de este estudio se ha basado en el uso comparado de las fuentes escritas y de las figurativas, tratando de encontrar la transposición plástica de la imagen mental elaborada sobre el musulmán. Las fuentes escritas permiten interpretar el significado de algunos elementos presentes en los relieves románicos que constituyen rasgos de identificación del musulmán, como la representación de determinadas armas en las escenas guerreras, algunos gestos, rasgos fisonómicos y atributos de indumentaria asimilados a los musulmanes. Se ha recurrido igualmente a fuentes iconográficas como los manuscritos ilustrados, más explícitos por el texto aclaratorio en la referencia a musulmanes, capaces de suministrar nuevos elementos de identificación del musulmán. Por otro lado, la observación y clasificación de numerosos relieves románicos hispanos ha permitido extraer, a su vez, otros indicios gráficos para la identificación del musulmán, al comprobarse la importancia de la disposición contigua de los relieves y de la superposición de distintos elementos potencialmente alusivos a los musulmanes. Las más de 1000 figuras que ilustran el trabajo son resultado de sucesivos trabajos de campo por el territorio peninsular, que se ha concretado en la documentación de 252 monumentos románicos, de los que se han obtenido más de 14.600 fotografías. A estas se suman las cerca de 3.300 imágenes extraídas de diversos estudios, a partir de las cuales se procedió a la clasificación sistemática del material gráfico en función de los temas iconográficos. La constatación de la gran difusión de los motivos estudiados ha llevado a estructurar el discurso del trabajo en torno a los temas figurativos y no por regiones o iglesias. Las aportaciones principales de este estudio se concretan en la interpretación de algunos prototipos iconográficos románicos, habitualmente considerados como carentes de sentido o burlescos, para inscribirlos en el contexto ideológico de la lucha contra el Islam. El análisis de temas iconográficos como los caballeros enfrentados, caracterizados frecuentemente como un cristiano y un musulmán en pleno combate, conduce al estudio de otras imágenes más herméticas como las de la lucha de un caballero contra un monstruo o una bestia. Sabemos que el mal era frecuentemente encarnado en fieras, y que la fealdad y la monstruosidad fueron rasgos propios del demonio. La presencia de caballeros que, señalados por la cruz, se enfrentan con bestias, permite reflexionar sobre la representación de los musulmanes bajo forma monstruosa. La identificación del sarraceno con el demonio en fuentes eclesiásticas y literarias del periodo, y la descripción de los musulmanes con rasgos bestiales en los cantares de gesta amparan esta hipótesis. Por otro lado, la identificación del enemigo con el mal fue el soporte de la guerra sacralizada, pues transformaba la lucha contra un colectivo humano en el combate contra el propio demonio, en la guerra contra el enemigo de Dios. Así, las representaciones bestiales alusivas al maligno pudieron constituir referencias a los musulmanes en tanto que "avatares del Anticristo", mientras la imagen de los soldados cristianos como santos y mártires permitieron reflejar la indulgencia aparejada al combate contra los musulmanes. La existencia de animales con turbante u otros elementos de identificación del musulmán en el arte, verifican la hipótesis de que la imagen sirvió de soporte para una campaña ideológica complementaria a la campaña guerrera contra los enemigos de la cristiandad. Los centauros arqueros fueron una de esas representaciones bestiales que permitieron retratar al musulmán, al reproducir con acierto su técnica de montar con arco en el campo de batalla y al permitir encarnar la idea de los musulmanes como lujuriosos y bestiales. Los rasgos negroides constituyen otro elemento que permite identificar a los musulmanes en la escultura, por la asimilación de los negros con los musulmanes en el contexto inmediato, lo mismo que diversos gestos y rasgos fisonómicos: el gesto de sacar la lengua, el de tirarse de las barbas, la fealdad, etc. Éstos permiten identificar al musulmán cuando otros elemento identificativos lo amparan, como los componentes de indumentaria. También se encuentran atlantes y cautivos que representan a los prisioneros de guerra musulmanes como emblema de triunfo cristiano y demostración de la humillación del adversario. Otra de las aportaciones consiste en el análisis de las figuras prosternadas, mayoritariamente bestiales, como la representación del musulmán adoptando su característica postura de rezo. Estas imágenes sirvieron para representar al rival religioso como un idólatra abandonado a un culto pagano y demoníaco, que es constantemente referido en las fuentes escritas de la época. Las conclusiones alcanzadas llevan a entender la imagen románica como un reflejo de la percepción peyorativa del musulmán formulada por las autoridades eclesiásticas, siendo en ocasiones un instrumento de legitimación de la guerra contra el Islam. La escultura románica hispana constituyó un importante eslabón en la cadena de transmisión de la percepción distorsionada de los musulmanes que adquiere una alta divulgación. De este modo, estos relieves son una fuente privilegiada para el estudio la imagen mental del enemigo religioso, forjada en el pensamiento cristiano occidental desde el periodo central de la Edad Media. ; Cette étude se penche sur l´interprétation de l´image romane dans le cadre du contexte idéologique et politique de la lutte contre l´Islam. Dans les siècles de l´art roman on assiste à l´intensification de la lutte contre al-Andalus et à l´organisation des croisades. C´es aussi le moment de diffusion et de consolidation d´un perception négative des musulmans stéréotypée et démonisée. Cette image mentale du musulman trouve sa transposition figurative, étant l´église romane un moyen privilégié pour exprimer la damnation des musulmans à cause de leurs vices, tout comme le salut spirituel des combattants impliqués dans la guerre. Les agents principaux impliqués dans le phénomène massif d´érection d´églises romanes dans la Péninsule Ibérique, la Papauté, l´ordre clunisienne, et les rois chrétiens hispaniques, étaient aussi enroulés dans la lutte contre l´Islam où imprégnés de l´idéologie développée contre celui-ci. Des nombreuses sources écrites témoignent de la présence d´idées très récurrentes et simplifiantes auprès des musulmans dans un ample domaine cultural occidental, ainsi que de la propagation d´une vie légendaire de Mahomet diffamatoire, qui servait à dégrader aussi ses adeptes. Les musulmans son décrits dans les sources chrétiennes occidentales comme des ennemis territoriales mais aussi spirituels, et ils sont l´objet d´une distorsion qui les diabolise et les fait porteurs des vices et des conduites plus injurieuses pour les chrétiens. Il n´y-a pas que les ouvrages théologiques qui contribuent à la consolidation d´une image péjorative et diabolisante des musulmans, car ces nuances sont présentes dans les chroniques latines occidentales et dans les chansons de geste, qui attestent leur intense divulgation. Les reliefs des églises romanes véhiculaient les valeurs ecclésiastiques de son époque, parmi lesquelles se trouvaient celles de la guerre sacralisée ainsi que la perception de l´Islam comme démoniaque. Les contributions de cette étude se matérialisent dans l´interprétation de nombreux sujets iconographiques romans comme l´incarnation des valeurs de la guerre sacralisée et comme la représentation diffamatoire du musulman. Certains d´entre-eux étaient considérés jusqu´à présent comme des images dépourvues de signification où burlesques. Le parcours iconographique réalisé au long de cette étude a commencé dans le grand nombre de scènes guerrières qui recouvrent les églises comme conséquence du conflit contre l´Islam. Aux chevaliers affrontés il faut ajouter la représentation des soldats sans cheval qui portent des instruments guerriers qui permettent leur identification comme des musulmans ou des chrétiens. Ceux-ci portent dans la sculpture les mêmes armes que les sarrasins des chansons de geste, parfois utilisées aussi par les musulmans contemporains, considérées indignes du chevalier chrétien. La considération de la guerre comme sacrée impliquait la sanctification des combattants et l´automatique diabolisation des adversaires. Le moyen plus synthétique et efficace pour exprimer ce concept fut la présentation du combat contre l´Islam comme la lutte mené en nom de Dieu contre le Malin, comme la lutte soutenue entre le bien et le mal. On le trouve ainsi exprimé dans les textes monastiques, dans les chroniques et dans l´épopée, et c´est ainsi qu´on le voit aussi exprimé dans l´art roman. De la sorte que à côté des représentations de complète ambiance guerrière contemporaine, on trouve d´autres qui présentent le combat du guerrier contemporain, souvent signalé par une croix dans son bouclier, contre un dragon où une bête comme incarnations démoniaques. La disposition usuelle de ces représentations de façon adjacente aux scènes de combat entre chrétiens et musulmans, et l´existence d´éléments d´identification de ces guerriers vainqueurs sur le démon, permettent de lire ces images comme la représentation de la dimension spirituelle assignée à la guerre soutenue contre l´Islam, présentée comme la lutte du bien contre le mal. L´idée des musulmans comme un peuple bestial dans les sources écrites sert à les accuser de luxurieux abandonnés à leurs instincts, ainsi qu´à représenter l´irrationalité qui les fait demeurer dans leur erreur doctrinale. Le musulman adopte des traits bestiaux, déformes et monstrueux dans les chansons de geste. Aussi dans l´art roman on retrouve des figures bestiales et fantastiques qui représentent les musulmans, qui étaient lues dans un sens métaphorique, car les bêtes et les monstres représentent dans l´art roman l´incarnation du démon et des hommes damnés. Il s´agit là d´un processus iconographique qui permet d´exprimer en termes figuratifs la dégradation morale du personnage représenté, à travers l´emploi de traits monstrueux et bestiales. On voit ainsi proliférer un imaginaire bestial qui s´interprète, à travers son analyse, comme une transposition de la perception des musulmans dans certains cas. Une des représentations animalisées du musulman est celle du centaure archer, qui contient parfois plusieurs traits d´identification du musulman tels que le turban où la physionomie négroïde. L´image du centaure qui retourne sa poitrine pour tirer sa flèche permet de représenter la technique de monter employée par les musulmans ibériques et orientaux, ainsi que de matérialiser l´idée des musulmans comme des êtres luxurieux, aspect qui est aussi symbolisé par d´autres hybrides tels que l´harpie et la sirène, qui portent un turban et un chaperon pointu dans certains cas. De cette façon, quelques représentations bestiales présentent des traits qui les signalent comme l´incarnation de l´ennemi religieux et territorial, érigées comme le support figuratif de l´image mentale du musulman qu´on retrouve sur les textes chrétiens occidentaux. Certains éléments du costume musulman permettent aussi d´identifier des figures bestiales et humaines come images du musulman, car elles forment une image profondément négative des ennemis religieux, qui comptaient avec des soldats subsahariens dans leurs armées permettant à la population ibérique de connaitre la physionomie des noirs. On trouve aussi la représentation des captifs de guerre, généralement figurés sous le modèle classique de l´Atlante qui supporte le poids du temple. L´analyse des quelques gestes et d´autres traits physiques à travers les sources figuratives et textuelles de l´époque a permis d´établir leur capacité de représenter le musulman. C´est le cas du geste de se tirer de la barbe comme l´expression de l´échec guerrier et doctrinal, et de la laideur et la gestualité des figures, qui s´appliquent à quelques représentations des musulmans, reconnaissables grâce à d´autres traits d´identification. Une autre notion associée d´une façon systématique à l´Islam trouve sa transposition dans les reliefs des églises. Il s´agit de l´imputation de l´idolâtrie aux musulmans, réitérée dans plusieurs sources écrites, ce qui permet d´interpréter plusieurs figures prosternées bestiales et humaines comme la concrétion graphique de cette notion. La méthodologie employé s´est basée sur l´utilisation comparée des sources textuelles et iconographique pour la définition des traits de représentation du musulman. Plusieurs éléments d´identification on étés soumis à un analyse qui a permis de les considérer come des traits propres à la représentation du musulman grâce à l´information fournie par les sources écrites et par les témoins figuratifs de l´époque, tels que les illustrations des manuscrits, qui sont plus claires dans l´allusion au musulman par le texte explicatif. Aussi l´analyse systématique de nombreux reliefs romans à permis d´extraire de nouveaux éléments d´identification du musulman, car on constate que la disposition adjacente des sujets, ainsi que la superposition d´éléments, permet d´identifier les figures. Les plus de 1000 figures qu´illustrent cette étude sont le résultat de plusieurs campagnes photographiques sur un total de 252 monuments romans hispaniques, desquels 14.600 photographies ont été faites. Encore 3.300 images ont été ôtées de plusieurs études, à partir desquelles j´ai procédé à la classification systématique de toutes les images en fonction de leur sujet iconographique. La constatation de la grande diffusion des motifs étudiés a conduit à structurer le discours de l´étude autour des sujets iconographiques et pas par régions où églises. Les conclusions extraites de cette étude portent à comprendre l´image romane comme un reflet de la perception négative du musulman formulée par les autorités ecclésiastiques, qui arrivait jusqu´à servir comme instrument de légitimation de la guerre. La sculpture romane hispanique était un important maillon de la chaîne de transmission de la perception péjorative des musulmans qui arriva à être très divulguée. C´est ainsi que la sculpture romane constitue une source privilégié pour l´étude de l´image mental du musulman, élaborée dan la pensée chrétienne occidentale dés la période centrale du Moyen Âge. ; Programa en Humanidades ; Presidente: María Isabel Fierro Bello. -- Secretario: Miguel Ángel Marzal García-Quismondo. -- Vocales: María Pilar Azcárate Aguilar-Amat, Philippe Senac, John Victor Tolan
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No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA, Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to yourself. Address H, S, BONER, Supt, THE GETTYSBURG JIEKCDHY The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College i Voi,. XI. GETTYSBURG, PA., OCT., 1902 No. 5 CONTENTS THE RELATION OF ABILITY TO OPPORTUNITY IN THE ATTAINMENT OF SUCCESS 146 EDWARD C. RUBY, '02. PROGRESS OF DISCOVERIES DURING THE MIDDLE AGES 149 BARRIERS TO SCIENCE 152 WM. H. W. REIMER, '02. AS TOLD BY HENRI D'ARCY, 157 HERBERT L. STIEEI,, '03. THE IDEAL AND THE REAL, 161 THE PICTURE-MONTH 165 SHAKESPEARE AS A PORTRAYER OF CHARACTER, . 168 THE NATURALIST, 173 RESOLUTIONS ON THE DEATH OF MAURICE M. MUS-SELMAN 177 EDITORIAL, 178 The Power of Concentration. EXCHANGES, . • 181 146 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE RELATION OF ABILITY TO OPPORTUNITY IN THE ATTAINMENT OF SUCCESS. EDWARD C. RUBY, '02. /V FAMOUS sculptor once showed a visitor the treasures ■•■■■ of his studio. In it were many mythical gods. One particularly attracted the visitor's attention. The face was con-cealed by being covered with locks of hair, and there were wings to each foot. "What is his name?" said the spectator. "Opportunity," was the reply. "Why is his face hidden?" "Because men seldom know him when he comes to them." "Why has he wings upon his feet ?" "Because he is soon gone, and once gone he cannot be overtaken." This is but an allegory, yet it is the concrete expression of a very important element in the attainment of success. The sculptor has indeed given form to the experience of many an individual. How often have we come face to face with con ditions in life when we asked ourselves the question, "What is this?" And when the reply comes that it is an opportunity for us to attain success, we wonder why it is so obscure and hard to recognize. Then we begin to doubt its reality, and while we are waiting for it to disclose its features more fully, it spreads its wings and soars far beyond our reach. This suggests to us the fact that something more than the mere presence of an opportunity is necessary to the attainment of success. There must be the readiness or ability to seize the opportunity when it comes. In fact, ability stands first, while opportunity is a secondary element. Our physical growth, our intellectual development, and our advancement in civilization are due to these two factors in exactly the order above men-tioned. The ability for such growth, development, and ad-vancement is the natural endowment of every human being to a certain degree. The ability is given first, the opportunity second. By seizing the opportunity, the ability is strengthened. As long as this ability has not had an opportunity for asserting itself we speak of it as a possibility. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 147 Then, again, what would be the state of such beings if they did not have opportunities for exercising their ability? Could we conceive of such beings? I am afraid it would be a very difficult matter. The ability for activity and the opportunity for manifesting this activity must be co-existent in order that growth, development and advancement may be possible. The primary importance of ability is further seen in the fact that we must be prepared for the opportunity when it comes. Opportunity is latent in the very foundation of human society. Opportunity is everywhere about us. But the preparation to seize upon the opportunity, and to make the most of it, is to be made by everyone for himself. President Garfield said that occasion may be the bugle call which summons an army to battle, but the blasts of the bugle call can never make soldiers nor win battles. It is a common saying to-day among employers that the young men who come to them for work are not prepared for the opportunities which arise in connection with the business in which they wish to be engaged; and if they are not prepared, then when the opportunity arises they fail to secure what might easily fall to them. To be ready for the opportunity when it comes has well been called the secret of success. There need be no question that personal success is, in kind and degree, in accordance with ability, and will always be so to a large extent. Ability, by adaptation and application, makes success of some sort possible; the will, by concentration and persistence, makes it actual, How much of success is entirely man's own will and ability, or personal to and of himself, and how much is impersonal or dependant on favoring circumstances or opportunity, it may not be possible precisely to determine. One thing is quite certain, that an individual desiring to succeed in any of life's undertakings cannot depend upon or wait for op-portunity. He must strive to succeed by the best means his ability can contrive, and then watch for opportunity, which is, indeed, the outcome, in the majority of cases, of his effort to win success. Any other way of hoping to succeed than by the 148 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. putting forth of personal energy and will-power is but waiting upon chance. There are persons who have prepared themselves for oppor-tunities which seem very slow in coming. What is to be done in such cases ? It may be that the opportunities are at hand, but they cannot be easily recognized because of the "locks of hair" which may be concealing their "faces." The Greeks used to say that one should seize "time by the forelock." We say, when opportunities do not seem to be coming as they ought, "make them." Make them, as Lincoln made his in the log cabin in the wilderness. Make them, as Henry Wilson made his during his evenings on a farm, when he read a thousand volumes while other boys of the neighborhood wasted their evenings. Make them, as George Stephenson made his, when he mastered the rules of mathematics with a bit of chalk on the sides of the coal wagons in the mines. Make them, as Douglas made his, when he learned to read from scraps of paper and posters. Make them, as Napoleon made his in a hundred important situations. Make them, as every man must who would accomplish anything worth the effort. Golden oppor-tunities are nothing to laziness, and the greatest advantage will make you ridiculous if you are not prepared for it. When a man "drops" into a good position, it is because he had climbed into such a position from which it was possible to "drop" by years of work, and not merely because he had the opportunity. Fortune always attends those who are fitted. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 149 PROGRESS OF DISCOVERIES DURING THE MIDDLE AGES. CIVILIZATION is a progressive movement. The worlp progresses because of the eternal competition involved in existence. There is a law of the "Survival of the Fittest," evidences of which we discover throughout the history of the world's progress. Our histories record the principal events of nations as well as their most prominent individuals. This competition has brought out the advanced thought, the greatest inventions, the best deeds and the lasting institutions) a history of which is simply a history of the world's progress. Wars have existed, have been carried on since time began. They have proved the "Survival of the Fittest," for God is his wisdom decrees all that happens; and he gives his decision on the side of the one he deems fittest for his purposes. War has caused the inventions of the cannon and the other instruments used in great struggles. The creative faculty, developed by this competition, designed the great engines of war that are used to-day—the monster cannon, the torpedo boat, the gun boat, the warship greater than was ever dreamed of in the days when Galileo supposed that the earth was round. The mariner's compass was an invention which revolutionized the commerce of the world and brought forth a great number of navigators and adventurers; and these, with their wild dreams of discovery, showed to the world that fabled Atlantis never seen save by Plato in the hallowed visions of Plato's in-spired poesy, and added this beautiful land of ours to the list of the great discoveries at the close of mediaeval times. Intellectual progress during the middle ages compared to the Augustan age of Rome and the suceeding age in European advancement, was very small. Learning was confined to the monastic orders. The church and the priestcraft had a mo-nopoly upon book making between the seventh and fifteenth cen-turies, and they held, through the dictation of the pope at Rome, a monopoly upon the learning as well. The progress of discoveries in the intellectual world during the era mentioned, 150 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. must necessarily therefore be a halting forward movement. It was crippled from being bound in such narrow limits. How-ever, about the commencement of the fifteenth century the liter-ary movement started again first, in Italy, then spread to Germany, to England and elsewhere. It was opened up through the discoveries made in the far East, of the civilization of the Orient, by the movement known as the crusades. The fanaticism and the chivalric spirit known as knight-errantry gave the world a turn unlooked for and unsought for at the inception of those movements, by opening up intercourse between the East and the West, and by the discovery of the old literary works of the Latins and Greeks. Another great discovery of the middle ages which had a vast influence in bringing on the Reformation and which aided in producing the Revival of Learning, was the finding out that the Church of Rome had physical arm to enforce her edicts of temporal control; and that her goverment was rotten to the core. The sale of indulgences by the Church brought on re-volt and was severely attacked and finally stopped by the efforts of Luther, the hero of the Reformation. The Church throughout the centuries from the fall of the Western Empire had undertaken to control both the spiritual and the temporal welfare of man. The natural result of the widespread supremacy of the Roman Church was that its spirit-ual aspects became more and more merged into its mere ma-chinery of external goverment. Everything that could give power and efficiency to it as an institution was carefully watched and nourished. Warfare in the Church existed between the different monastic orders. Different creeds, sects and "isms" sprung up within the Church, yet it confined itself to its troubles, and to the world became stronger and stronger as a controlling power. By the monopoly of learning and literature, it was looked upon by ruling potentates with more than reverence—. with absolute fear—and a pope's bull of excommunication was a stronger instrument against the weak and superstitious of med-iaeval times, than the thunderbolts of Jove to the ancients. But it was discovered at the beginning of the fifteenth century THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY.' I 5 I that, by reason of the temporal life assumed by the Church, the spiritual life began to die out at the center of this vast, system of ecclesiastical government. The baneful effects of such spirit-ual decay speedily began to tell throughout its borders. The perversion of ecclesiastical offices and especially the materialistic abuses of spiritual privileges, awakened Europe to its thralldom. The ignorance of those times, depicted in strong colors in the satires of Erasmus, seems almost incredible. The impetus which the friars had given the papal powers back in the thirteenth century had died out and the religious decline opened up new avenues of thought, and awakened powers before forbidden by the Church to the people. The contest between struggling humanity and prevailing and overshadowing powers brought forth all the new discoveries of the times. The printing press, the Revival of Learning, and the industrial age of English literature were its products. The industrial, political and intellectual liberty which we enjoy to-day is the fruit ot the seed sown during the latter portion of the middle ages ; and the French Revolution was the result of the tares sown during the same period. The great abuses of medi-aeval times brought their reaction in the fanatical puritanism of Cromwell and the beheading of King Charles. All these contests have been in the interests of humanity. Results have been logical and according to cosmic law. Discov-eries of all times have been the product of necessity, and a de-mand in the interests of the world's progress. Things have happened that must necessarily happen for the good of man. Discoveries are the works of genius, but the individuals that made them were endowed with this faculty, as a part of the divine plan and the divine system. 152 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, BARRIERS TO SCIENCE. WM, H. W. REIMER, '02. C^OENCE is the foundation stone of human progress, It ^**' is a natural outgrowth of civilization. Education with-out it is null and void. Viewing it in this aspect, we must conclude that science is very old; that it is not a product of one century, but of many. The achievements of the past century are only the consum-mation of the achievements of many former centuries. Astronomy was pretty completely solved over four centuries ago, but it is being revised every year. Electricity was discovered by Franklin, but it remained for the men of our century to use it in propelling cars and in flash-ing messages across continents and oceans. All the scientists of former years who in some way aided its progress, we to-day honor and revere. But we are often forget-ful of the struggle they encountered. When some new scien-tific discovery is made, we look upon it with skeptical eyes. We are prone to criticise it harshly. We only forget that the boisterous ridicule of Columbus and Newton was turned into praise. The idea that telegraphy could be successfully oper-ated without the use of wire connection was believed impos-sible by the most skillful of our day; but now it is successfully established. It shows that mankind is reluctant to believe or accept a theory that is new. We cling to the old like parasites, and any deviation from that seems impossible. Taking a glance over the history of the past, progress ap-pears to have necessitated the surrender of the old for the new life as we pass from the old year into the new. The nations of antiquity seem to us peculiarly situated. In the childhood of intellectual development, they have only the surrounding world of obscurity out of which to carve their future. True, the children of Israel did have a supernatural revelation to guide them, but how imperfectly did it serve them. Together THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 153 with the other nations they seek after other gods to worship— gods erected by their own hands and created by their imagina-tions as representing the power that controlled the universe. It is this tendency of the growing mind that filled ancient Greece and Rome with altars and shrines. And in this manner for many years we see the nations of the earth bound down to superstition and ignorance. The early Grecian philosophers shrunk from the prevailing ignorance and sought an interpreta-tion of God from His natural revelation. The complexity of the universe puzzled them. They saw changes continually oc-curring. They think there must be a power in. the universe which pushes forth the blade of grass in the Spring. They at-tempt to resolve all things into their constituent elements. They search for the "beginning" of all things. One says water is the originative principle in the universe, because it seems common to all things. Another calls this principle of existence fire, because of its motive power. Others argue that all things in existence are only the separation and combination of infinitely small atoms. Life was only the combination of atoms, while death was the separation of the same into their original state. This beginning of all existence they recognized as God. Socrates with no supernatural revelation, but through his conscience interpreted a conception of God and heaven and the immortality of the soul. What the Greecian philosophers attempted to accomplish, the scientist of to-day is accomplishing. He lays aside all supernatural revelation. He peers under the surface of the earth to discover its history. He examines and compares the inorganic and organic creation in order to determine the pro-cesses through which they have been evolved. He proves his investigations, and submits them for our consideration. His facts are generally accepted, except when they seem to conflict with (our) supernatural revelation. At this point we hear the cry of "Halt!" Ecclesiasts say it is atheistic. They say it is contrary to the account given in Genesis. "Shall we be-lieve that man is descended from the monkey, which belief is I 54 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. not only contrary to Genesis but degrading to man?" "Shall we believe that many years passed in the creation of the earth and its creatures, when the Bible says six days transpired ?" This is the conflict of science and religion. And well is it that we see a conflict; it will strengthen both parties concerned. It will make religion reflect upon its own doctrine, and it will all the more strengthen science, for "Strength is born of struggle." Skepticism will make the scientist test thoroughly his own work, it will necessitate a tightening of all burrs on the me-chanism of science. Columbus might have failed in his attempt to prove his hy-pothesis, if resistance had not compelled him to perfect his proof and go ahead with full determination and confidence. The theory of evolution has evoked harsh criticism. But, notwithstanding, it is meeting acceptance everywhere. Our most wide-awake professors are introducing it into their schools. Preachers have tested it and proclaim it good, and are to-day reconciling their Christian doctrine with evolution as rapidly as conditions permit. Dr. Hillis is among them, and from his pen we quote the theory of evolution as he understands it: "Looking backward we find the earth in a condition that an-swers to our Sun. Slowly it cooled; slowly the granite was changed into soil, which by ice and water was made rich for the coming plants ; the plants at first very simple, became more and more complex, the small ferns giving way to the hardy forest. That daily God is causing the dry crust of the earth to move up into the herb and schrub; the schrub to ascend into the life of the animal; the animal to be lifted up into the life of man ; and man to be lifted up into the mind and life of Christ." Emerson, a preacher, poet, and philosopher, utters about the same meaning: "The gasses gather to the solid firmament; the chemic lump arrives at the plant and grows ; arrives at the quad-ruped and walks; arrives at man and thinks." This in principle is about what evolution teaches concerning THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. I 55 the origin of existing things and the processes through which they have been evolved. It is a scientific interpretation of God's natural revelation made through the material creation. While their domain is only in the material universe—in deal-ing with facts that may be brought before their immediate vision—they do not attempt a doctrine of theism. However, the nature of their reasoning often explains their idea of God. There is not one who does not recognize in the process of nature a power which is God. Emerson had the most sacred reverence for God. He saw God in all creation from the soul of man down to the blade of grass, Charles Darwin, the greatest advocate of evolution, distinctly assumed the "World Genius standing back of His wondrous earthly mechanism." If the earliest advocate of the theory did seem to eliminate God, perhaps a reason can be assigned for it, The world of new ideas which dawned upon them, so completly occupies their attention that they could not see the Maker back of them. Their conditions might have been analogous to that of the man who first sees a loom at work. "They become so entranced at the beautiful texture produced that their thought never goes back to the mind that first constructed in its imagination the result which he now sees." We can be as thorough students of evolution as was Darwin or Huxley or Tyndall or Fiske, yet we need not eliminate the Bible or God from our Christian belief. It does not debase or exalt man more to conceive him to have been created instantaneously from a clod of earth by divine fiat, than progressively through animals, so long as we conceive of him as endowed with (body and) soul, as the newest product of creation, and capable of attaining a position in life only next to the angels. No other department of science or philosophy has so greatly affected the world of thought. It has driven away superstition. It has made ignorance to be ashamed. Both man and God have been given a more exalted nature. It has purified out moral nature, and the "Survival of the Fittest" has taught man 10 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. that if he would win in the race of life, he must put under the body and elevate the mind and soul. John Fiske thinks that "Science is to help bring about a greater revival of Christianity than that which built the Cathe-drals of Europe in the fifteenth century." Romanes, the Agnostic, was led through evolution to say; "Science is moving with all the force of a tidal wave towards faith in Jesus Christ as the world's Saviour." Dr. Hillis further says: "There is no conflict between the educated ecclesiast and the educated scientist, but there is and ever will be a conflict between the ignorant ecclesiast and igno-rant scientist." Many years passed before the world received this theory of evolution. Shall we then reject its teaching as false ? Shall we denounce its advocates as atheists and agnostics and pan-theists? Does the theory debase man and elimininate God? We must let each one answer these questions for himself. But before you are able to make a decision, you must study the subject and know whereof you speak. It is pure ignor-ance to condemn a theory like evolution, and ridicule its advocates, before being fully acquainted with the subject. Ig-norance may flourish for awhile, but civilization is moving to-wards truth, and truth must in the end prevail. Then will truth look back upon the past as we look upon those who ridiculed the hypothesis of Columbus and of Newton. The barriers between science and religion are fast being re-moved, and the time is not far off when they will link hands and march onward at the sound of divine music towards the mark and prize of the high calling in Christ Jesus, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 157 AS TOLD BY HENRI D'ARCY. HERBERT L. STIEEI, '03. ""^^ES, M'sieur, those were truly glorious days; I am an old "^ man now; my hair is white and soon I shall trouble this earth no more. I would not have had it thus. Had I my heart's desire I would have died a soldier's death long ere now. Yet truly it was no fault of mine, M'sieur, for I can show you no less than seven places on this old body of mine where some good sword has tried to reach my heart, and I carry in my left shoulder a ball, which I received while still a private in the Guard of His Eminence, the glorious Richelieu. "They are all gone now—Rochefort, De Wardes and the rest —but well do I remember them. And D'Artagnan; he was a brave man, was D'Artagnan. Ah ! he should have served the Cardinal instead of mixing with those pigs of musketeers, he should indeed, M'sieur. I remember the day his Eminence summoned him to his presence after that affair at Milady. He expected nothing less than the Bastile, and the Bastile—parbleu! give me a thousand deaths before the Bastile, I was on guard at the door of the chamber and I heard the whole interview. But D'Artagnan, he was as cool and self-possessed as if he were chatting with some of his comrades. And how he did fight during the siege of Rochelle; Mon Dieu! how he did fight. "Ah! that siege of Rochelle ! I think I was as near death that year as ever I have been, I and de Busigny. Your glass is empty, permit me, M'sieur. Yet I am rather glad that I did not die then. To die for France is glorious in any circumstance, but we gentlemen of the sword have a dread of being hanged as spies. It was in this manner—His Eminence desired infor-mation concerning the fortifications of Rochelle, and Busigny and I undertook to supply it. All went well for a time. We gained an entrance to the city, no matter how. Those Rochellais are extremely stupid, M'sieur, though they do fight hard. Now that we were in the city, how were we to find out what we wished to know ? It was easy to learn as much as i58 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. most of the citizens and soldiers knew, but the cardinal knew even more than that already. It was necessary to get some-thing from a higher source. Busigny was the man for that. I can handle a sword, but I am not much of a schemer; while Busigny—well it has been said that he was the most clever man in the whole Guard. Ah! he did scheme, and to some pur-pose, too. 1 know not to this day how he did it, but this I do know that he obtained the whole plan of defense—and such a joke, M'sieur—from the son of the governor himsell. However, it was of no avail. The entrance to the city had been easy, but the exit, that was different. "So different, in fact, that we were captured. We had no opportunity of doing away with the plans and maps on our person, and we stood revealed as spies. They took us before the governor and with little ceremony clapped us into a dun-gton. And the governor's son, he was furious, I can assure you, having been tricked as he was. Furthermore, he took pleasure in coming to taunt us and flaunt our coming execution in our faces. This angered me, though I would have died be-fore allowing him to see it, and one morning I confided my vexation to Busigny. 'DArcy, said he, T, too, have been thinking of this villain's visits, and I believe that, disagreeable as they are, we may turn them to our profit.' Imagine what joyous feelings sprung up in my breast at these words, for I knew that Busigny had a plan, and Busigny's plans, M'sieur— well, I never knew them to be other than good. 'My comrade,' continued he, 'would you prefer to die here in a hand-to-hand struggle or out there on that scaffold they are building for us ?' QX i>KAM/i£» w\j wv® vw>ux>o£>fo ooXoA/6* a/no/ us&a/v' w\> dlill fll. Selicjman, Taiio*. S Chambefsbupg St., Gettysburg, Pa. R. A. WONDERS Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, etc. Scott's Corner, opp. Eagle Hotel GETTYSBURG, PA. Pool Parlors in Connection. GO TO^ Eckenrode's Restaurant, 8 Baltimore St., Gettysburg. Everything in Season. 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Draft Translation: Not for CitationWhat follows is another attempt at a translation of an important text by André Tosel on the Marx/Spinoza relation. It is not a finished, or polished translation, but a rough sketch put forward to help people get a sense of this overlooked articulation of the relation between Marx and Spinoza.For a Systematic Study of the Relation of Marx to Spinoza: Remarks and Hypotheses
André Tosel Published in 2008 in the book Spinoza au XIXe Siècle The question of relation of the thought of Marx to that of Spinoza has up until now been the subject of more of a hermeneutic investigation than a philology. It is easier to construct a history of the different interpretations of Spinoza at the center of different Marxisms then to have determined the precise function of the reference to Spinoza in the work of Marx and to define the use Marx made of the spinozist problematic and the elaboration of his thought. More or less the Marxists that were first developed a relation to Spinoza were an important milestone on the way to developing what could be called a historical and materialist dialectic. The relation begins in the midst of the Second International. The singularity of Spinoza's thought has often been reduced to a stepping stone on the way to "monist" immanentism, which is supposed to be its philosophical structure at least in the reception of two thinkers, as Plekhanov has asserted in some preliminary texts working from some notes of Engels in manuscripts published in the USSR under the title of the Dialectic of Nature. In the dogmatic frame of the struggle between idealism and materialism, Spinoza anticipates materialism by his thesis of the unity of nature and by his doctrine of the equal dignity of the attribute of extension in relation to the attribute of thought. The doctrine of mode and substance causality, coupled with the critique of final causality and the illusions of superstition, signifies at the same time an overcoming of mechanistic thinking and the first form of the dialectic. Rare were those who, like Antonio Labriola, were careful not to oppose two conceptions of the world head-on and maintained a certain distance with polemical opposition, preferring instead to indicate that Marx did for mode of production what Spinoza had done for the world of the passions—a geometry of their production. In the Soviet Union before the Stalinist freeze, this interpretive tension is reproduced: Spinoza becomes the terrain through which the clarification of the dialectic takes place opposing mechanists and anti-mechanists, and original articulation of the thesis of liberty as the comprehension of necessity. These problems have been clarified somewhat. (Zapata, 1983; Seidel, 1984; Tosel, 1995)One would have to wait for the deconstructive enterprise of Louis Althusser for this movement to be reversed. Spinoza is no longer a moment in the teleology which is integrated and surpassed on the way to Marxism-Leninism. His work is the means of theoretical production for reformulating the philosophical and scientific revolution of Marx without recourse to only the Hegelian dialectic. Spinoza is the first to have elaborated a model of structural causality that makes it possible to think the efficacy of the structure as an absent cause over its effects. The theory of knowledge is not one that authorizes absolute knowledge, but it announces this infinite exigency of a break with ideology without the hope of arriving at transparent knowledge. It obliges one to renounce any idea of communism as a state of a final reconciliation in social relations which would be deprived of any contradictions. "We have always been spinozists,' Althusser announces in the Elements of Self-Criticism, and then proceed to the Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect from the Hegelian dialectic. It is then only an epistemological obstacle which prevents Marx from realizing the full power of his critique of political economy and to explore the continent of history that he discovered. Spinoza for clarifying Marx himself. Everything has been clarified. (Cotten 1992; Raymond, Moreau, 1997). In terms of historical research, the spinozist studies that have been made after the end of the nineteen sixties in France and Italy have often been made by researchers who have rubbed shoulders with Marxism. We find the same oscillation between a tendency to read Spinoza according to a pre-marxist perspective, in the sense of a dialectic of emancipation, or liberation from a theological political complex and disalienation, even constituent power, and another tendency insisting on the infinity of the struggle against all illusions, even those of total liberation, affirming the unsurpassable dimension of the imagination in the constitution of the conatus and in the production of the power of the multitude. This oscillation is manifest often in the same commentators, often itself a function of the change of the historical conjuncture. However, up until now, there has never been an attempt to study from Marx's works themselves the structural function of the spinozist reference in the constitution of Marxist theory, one which would permit us to better understand the understanding that Marx made of Spinozist work. The interpretations have anyway have developed from a certain exteriority to the letter of Marxists texts. Several years ago, a German researcher, Fred E. Schrader, in a short text dedicated to the thematic of "substance and concept" chez Marx (Substanz und Funktion: zur Marxsrezeption Spinoza's) drew attention to this situation (1984). He rightly noted that it was necessary to distinguish two moments in the research to avoid any merely external confrontation: a) first, obviously, document the explicit and implicit mentions of Spinoza in Marx's text; 1) then, reconstruct the position of the reference to Spinoza in the process of the constitution of the critique of political economy which is the central Marxist work, alongside of the references to "Hegel" which one knows were constitutive in the years of 1857-1858. Only this philological and philosophical work can permit us to renew the state of the question. Schrader's study must be considered. We propose to develop it and comment on it because up until now it has not received the attention that it merits. Before everything else, it is necessary to be precise. The work envisioned must be considerable, it includes taking into account the texts published by Marx, those published posthumously by Engels and by Kautsky, and all of those—collections of notes and thematic notebooks—which make up the incomplete nature of Capital, including Marx's correspondence. The MEGA 2, Marx-Engels Gesamtausgabe, still incomplete, has not finished being scrutinized. This work could begin from the hypothesis that we can conceptualize two periods in Marx's work from which it is possible to reassemble occurrences that conceptualize the reference to Spinoza in order to determine their structural function. The first period corresponds to the years of his formation and the interlinking of the critique of politics and the early critique of political economy, it begins with the concept of history underlying the German Ideology and culminates in the Poverty of Philosophy and the Communist Manifesto. The second period begins with the research operating under the title of the critique of political economy beginning in 1857, interrupted provisionally in January of 1859 and beginning again in 1861. The reference to Spinoza is more explicit in the first period where it is a matter of an specifically political practice, articulating a materialism of practice. It is less explicit in the second period, it functions nonetheless as a fundamental operator in the essential theory of the substance of value in capital. The Philosophical Intensifier of Spinoza of the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. Destruction of the Theologico-Political Complex and Democratic Radicalism. Marx encounters Spinoza in the beginning of his theoretical and political journey. In 1841 we know from the preface by Alexandre Matheron (Cahiers Spinoza), Marx, after his doctorate, reproduced the extracts he copied from the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus (MEGA 2 VI/I Berlin, 1977). He is curiously presented as the author of these texts and moreover they are reorganized in their own order which is not that of the Tractatus itself. The chapters containing the critique of the supernatural, of the miracle, and all of all forms of superstition are brought forward as essential and open on the properly political chapters dedicated to the freedom of thought (XX) and the foundation of the republic (XVI). The Ethics is not ignored but it is not reproduced, Letter XII takes the place of a speculative text and is accompanied with Letter LXXVI to Burgh. Everything takes place as if Marx considered as the most important question to be that of theological politics and is concentrated on the question of human freedom in its radical ethico-political dimension. What is important is that the revolutionary democratic state is realized according to this concept. One could also consider that Spinoza is utilized here as one of the figures that a Doctorate of Philosophy considers along with Aristotle, Kant, Fichte, and Hegel as provocations, of that which puts knowledge in the service of a life liberated from the fear of authorities, which reappropriates humanity's power of thinking and acting confiscated in the service of gods and fetishes. In a certain manner Epicurus is the paradoxically the first of the thinkers who claims that "it is a misfortune to live in necessity, but it is not necessary to live under necessity." This truth finds a new application, after the French Revolution, in the age of a new ethics, where free individuals recognize themselves in a free state. 2. The explicit reference to Spinoza is displaced in the texts of the years 1841-1843—the Kreuznach manuscript dedicated to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right, followed by the introduction and the Jewish Question. These constitute the Feuerbachian moment of Marx, at the heart of his theory of the alienation of the human essence. One must not make this critique of politics a simple transition towards the discovery of the alienation of social powers, nor understand it as an end of a politics understood as primarily statist. It is the ethico-political liberation which requires a transformation of social relations and which is a transvaluation or emancipation of social powers. Spinoza is not named, but certain passages from the TTP are repeated almost to the letter: Spinoza figures as the index of a new task , that is lacking in Hegel which is that of thinking beyond the dualism of civil society and the state. The name of this passage is democracy or true democracy. Marx returns to the letter of the Spinozist thesis according to which democracy is not only the name of a constituted political regime, but the essence of politics, the most natural regime, constituting the power of the people. The intensive force of Spinoza is that of democracy not as a mystical act or utopian ecstasy, but as a process of constitution that replaces actual void of the Hegelian state where the people lack themselves, in which the state becomes something separate, still theologico-political. Democracy is the active process by which the people is refigured as the negative instance of any separate political form and gives a political form to its social power. "Democracy is the truth of monarchy, monarchy is not the truth of democracy. Monarchy is necessarily democracy in contradiction with itself, whereas the monarchial moment is no contradiction within democracy. Monarchy cannot, while democracy can be understood in terms of itself In democracy none of the moments obtains a significance other than what befits it. Each is really only a moment of the whole Demos. In monarchy one part determines the character of the whole; the entire constitution must be modified according to the immutable head. Democracy is the generic constitution; monarchy is a species, and indeed a poor one. Democracy is content and form; monarchy should be only form, but it adulterates the content. In monarchy the whole, the people, is subsumed under one of its modes of existence,. the political constitution; in democracy the constitution itself appears only as one determination, and indeed as the self-determination of the people. In monarchy we have the people of the constitution, in democracy the constitution of the people. Democracy is the resolved mystery of all constitutions. Here the constitution not only in itself, according to essence, but according to existence and actuality is returned to its real ground, actual man, the actual people, and established as its own work. The constitution appears as what it is, the free product of men." It is possible to remark that this constituent power of the demos tends to be presented as a sort of causa sui in the order of world of social relations. The naturalist dimension thematized in the Ethics is not posited here with the insistence of humanity as part of nature, with the thematization of the relations between internal and external causality. Necessity seems to have disappeared for an instant. It is notable that this in the same moment that Feuerbach defends Spinoza's naturalism against Hegelian idealism and makes the author of the Ethics the Moses of modern thought who has destroyed theology by his pantheism, while reproaching him, for not having arrived at a radical humanist affirmation, since he maintained an equivocal equivalence between the naturalization of god and the divinization of nature. The Marxist reference is primarily to the ethico-political Spinoza, one of the "intellectual heroes of morality" as he says in a text contemporary with it, "Comments on the Latest Russian Censorship—" along with Kant and Fichte he is one of the heroes that found and defend the principal of moral autonomy. Spinoza makes it possible to undertake a philosophical political of Hegel, the people would be the only ontological instance that constitutes the political constitution, which is to say democracy, of civil society. Spinoza makes it possible to introduce a new dialectic within the incomplete dialectic of The Principles of the Philosophy of Right. This dialectic is simultaneously a critique. The object of this critical dialectic is the self-constitution of political activity in the struggle to overcome the domination of abstract entities erected into speculative abstractions defining the latest avatars of the theological-political complex. Schrader does not say more in the exposition of the reference to Spinoza in this first period. We could take a step beyond his analysis. A unpublished path seems to be presented. We could in fact explore it as Yovel has done (Spinoza and Other Heretics); also the first book of Matheron, Individu et communauté chez Spinoza (1968) examines the double relation of the human conatus to other conatuses and objects that suit them or do not suit them the rudiments of a theory of objectification of the human essence that Marx elaborates in the texts of 1844 where he analyzes the people under the figure of the proletariat subject and object of alienated labor. The reading can shed light on Spinoza, but Marx has for his interlocuters Hegel, Adam Smith, and Feuerbach. Spinoza does not intervene here explicitly. It is preferable to follow the letter of his texts. 3. The text which follows, The Holy Family of 1845, indicates an unexamined reversal of perspective. Far from finding in Spinoza a radical thinker of liberty through the radicalization of the democratic process and developing Feuerbach's theses of the virtues of Spinoza's naturalization, far from continuing the anti-idealist elements of Spinoza, Marx for the first time distances himself from Spinoza placing him on the side of Descartes, of Malebranche, of Leibniz, of abstract rationalist metaphysics, in a paragraph before celebrating the materialists in which he inscribes himself. These are the materialists of the French Enlightenment, La Mettrie, Holbach, Helvétius, which are lauded for having operated outside of metaphysics. These are the authors that Plekhanov reinscribes as a defenders of monistic materialism in the thought of nature and in the theory of history. Certainly as Olivier Bloch in an important contribution has demonstrated ("Materialism, genesis of Marxism, 1981, reprinted in Matières à penser, Vrin, 1997), this chapter of the history of philosophy is a plagiarism by Marx who literally takes it from the Manuel d'histoire de la philosophie moderne by Charles Renouvier (1844). The soviet Diamat has been founded by a French critic… But the fact remains that Marx endorses this reconstruction which prefers Bacon, Hobbes and Locke to Spinoza, lauding them for the empiricism and nominalism: the English thinkers critique metaphysic speculation and open directly the way to materialism. Pierre Bayler in France can be considered the only fellow traveler of British empiricism by his scepticism he dissolves the metaphysics of Spinoza and Leibniz (The Holy Family, 171). The Spinoza criticized here is that of the Ethics understood as a dogmatic treatise of metaphysics which has a "profane content" but it has lost its historical condition. This is no longer the antitheological political Spinoza but the speculative philosopher. Is it necessary to conclude that this is a contradiction on the part of Marx and to forget his previous theses? It is a surprising oversight because that which Marx and Renouvier give credit to Bacon, Hobbes, and Locke can be imputed to Spinoza as well. Everything takes place as if Marx, put off by the metaphysics of the Ethics forgets what he had found in the TTP—and this seems to be a permanent transformation. In fact the contradiction is not only apparent, or, more to the point, it concerns Spinoza himself. Marx does not have as his object an analysis of Spinozism. He uses the latter by breaking it down according to the needs of his task which is at this moment is to study the activity of real man and the possibility of his transformation by bringing together the theoretical humanism of Feuerbach, the French communism and socialism, and the English thinkers who represent this humanism in the domain of practice. "[Metaphysics] will be defeated for forever by materialism which has now been perfected by the work of speculation itself and coincides with humanism. As Feuerbach represented materialism in the theoretical domain, French and English socialism and communism represent materialism in the practical field which now coincides with humanism." (The Holy Family, pg. 168) One can detect in this passage the presence of a schematic of the history of modern philosophy which has echoes of Moses Hess and Ludwig Feuerbach, the two have confronted the problem of the critical comprehension of Hegel and have begun to present a reinterpretation of the grand moments of the history of philosophy after their master. Marx deviates from the interpretation of Hess given in a text which had a particular impact: The Sacred History of Mankind by a Young Disciple of Spinoza (1838). Hess appropriates Spinoza's theory of knowledge and exploits his theory of the imagination to develop a positive sense of social utopia, and overall makes Spinoza the true alternative to Hegel's Christian philosophy. Far from being an acosmism, the theory of substance is the perfect incarnation of the Hebraic idea of the unconditional unity of all. It is paradoxical, the other part, of the interpretation by Renouvier followed by Marx recovers and conceals that of Feuerbach that one can find in the same period in Preliminary Theses for the Reform of Philosophy (1842) and Principles of the Philosophy of the Future (1843). Marx brushes up against these theses of Feuerbach on Spinoza without reproducing them in their entirety. They make Spinoza an important moment in modern philosophy: at the heart of this movement they make this philosophy an important realization of the humanization of God, Spinoza remains still a speculative philosopher who is at once produces the realization and negation of God. Speculative metaphysics realizes with him its ultimate phase which is determined contradictorily as theism and atheism in the form of pantheism. "Spinoza is the originator of speculative philosophy, Schelling its restorer, Hegel its perfecter."(Thesis 102) Pantheism becomes the only consequential theology in that it anticipates the end of theology in atheism. The Spinozist substance transforms all independent beings into predicates, into attributes of a unique and independent being. God is no longer only a thing thought, it is equally an extended thing (Thesis 3). Spinoza does not make the self-activity of self-consciousness the attribute that unifies and transforms substance into subject. This was Hegel's tour de force but he paid for it with an absolute idealism of spirit since once again spirit prevails over extension and concrete man is subject to abstraction separated from reality of self-consciousness. This inscription of Spinoza in metaphysics is all the more paradoxical because Marx finds in empiricism and British materialism the theses that Feuerbach attributes to Spinoza, and Marx accepts a definition in which materialism coincides with communism. As can be seen in this passage from Principles of the Philosophy of the Future Pantheism is theological atheism or theological materialism; it is the negation of theology while itself confined to the standpoint of theology, for it turns matter, the negation of God, into a predicate or an attribute of the Divine Being. But he who turns matter into an attribute of God, declares matter to be a divine being. The realisation of God must in principle presuppose godliness, that is, the truth and essentiality of the real. The deification of the real, of that which exists materially – materialism, empiricism, realism, and humanism – or the negation of theology, is the essence of the modern era. Pantheism is therefore nothing more than the essence of the modern era elevated into the divine essence, into a religio-philosophical principle. Empiricism or realism – meaning thereby the so-called sciences of the real, but in particular the natural science – negates theology, albeit not theoretically but only practically, namely, through the actual deed in so far as the realist makes the negation of God, or at least that which is not God, into the essential business of his life and the essential object of his activity. However, he who devotes his mind and heart exclusively to that which is material and sensuous actually denies the trans-sensuous its reality; for only that which constitutes an object of the real and concrete activity is real, at least for man. "What I don't know doesn't affect me." To say that it is not possible to know anything of the supersensuous is only an excuse. One ceases to know anything about God and divine things only when one does not want to know anything about them. How much did one know about God, about the devils or angels as long as these supersensuous beings were still objects of a real faith? To be interested in something is to have the talent for it. The medieval mystics and scholastics had no talent and aptitude for natural science only because they had no interest in nature. Where the sense for something is not lacking, there also the senses and organs do not lack. If the heart is open to something, the mind will not be closed to it. Thus, the reason why mankind in the modern era lost the organs for the supersensuous world and its secrets is because it also lost the sense for them together with the belief in them; because its essential tendency was anti-Christian and anti-theological; that is, anthropological, cosmic, realistic, and materialistic. [In the context of the present work, the differences between materialism, empiricism, realism, and humanism are, of course, irrelevant.] Spinoza hit the nail on the head with his paradoxical proposition: God is an extended, that is, material being. He found, at least for his time, the true philosophical expression for the materialistic tendency of the modern era; he legitimated and sanctioned it: God himself is a materialist. Spinoza's philosophy was religion; he himself was an amazing man. Unlike so many others, Spinoza's materialism did not stand in contradiction to the notion of a non-material and anti-materialistic God who also quite consistently imposes on man the duty to give himself up only to anti-materialistic, heavenly tendencies and concerns, for God is nothing other than the archetypal and ideal image of man; what God is and how he is, is what man ought to be or wants to be, or at least hopes to be in the future. But only where theory does not belie practice, and practice theory, is there character, truth, and religion. Spinoza is the Moses of modern free-thinkers and materialists. 4. The anti-metaphysical fury of Marx, the blind submission to Renouvier, limits him in developing an interpretation of the Ethics more nuanced and sensitive to the historical contradictions. This situation is even more strange because it is in The Holy Family that Marx interprets materialist philosophers such that they are a Feuerbachian Spinoza. On can find then three theses that Marx distributes to different representatives of materialism and that can also be imputed to Spinoza. --Thesis 1. Nature is a primary reality, it can be explained by itself without recourse to the principle of a creator. Nothing comes from nothing. One can then have recourse to Bacon for who "the primitive forms of matter are essentially living forms, individuals, and it is they that produce specific differences." He follows, as does Hobbes, in adding that "one cannot separate thought from the matter which thinks." Thought cannot be separated from matter capable of thought. --Thesis 2. The human order is inscribed in a specific manner in nature. This specificity does not specify anything extra-worldly of human activity. Hobbes has demonstrated the sensible nature of activity. "Man is subordinate to the same laws that nature. Power and liberty are identical." The Holy Family) This order is known to promote the art of forming ideas, the human species is fundamentally educatable. ---Thesis 3. What is important is to think the constitution of this human order according to radical possibilities of the ways of transforming these necessary conditions of experience of liberty-power. "If man is unfree in the materialist sense, i.e., is free not through the negative power to avoid this or that, but through the positive power to assert his true individuality, crime must not be punished in the individual, but the anti-social source of crime must be destroyed, and each man must be given social scope for the vital manifestation of his being. If man is shaped by his surroundings, his surroundings must be made human. If man is social by nature, he will develop his true nature only in society, and the power of his nature must be measured not by the power of separate individuals but by the power of society." (The Holy Family 176). It is not necessary to give the history of philosophy presented in The Holy Family a structural importance. It acts as a provisionally constructed polemical text where Marx has given the means for his own philosophical conception in broad strokes in order to better understand the intersection of humanism, materialism, and communism. The incongruence of the treatment of Spinoza, reinterpreted to be behind Feuerbach's position, was not overlooked by Marx's comrades in combat since H. Krieg (himself denounces by Marx in a virulent circular as a confused partisan of religious socialism), he wrote in a letter of June 6, 1845 in order to restore Spinoza's battle against metaphysics overlooked by Marx, "you're probably right about what it says in the English Hobbes and Locke [i.e. that they vacillate contradictorily between materialism and theism], the same for Voltaire and his direct partisans; but Holbach is practically Spinozist, and it is with and Diderot that the Enlightenment reaches its summit and becomes revolutionary." (cited by Maximilien Rubel and his edition of the philosophical texts of Marx titled Philosophie) 5. The instrumental and fluctuating character of the reference to Spinoza as a metaphysician is confirmed precisely by The German Ideology. Marx returns in passing to the place of Spinoza in modern philosophy. Spinoza has developed the principle of substantial immanence but he has not integrated the principle with self-consciousness. Hegel would be the unity of Spinoza and Fichte (The German Ideology, 107). But for Marx this representation consigns him to a partial aspect of the Hegelian synthesis. Self-consciousness is at once a hypostasis of the real activity of human beings in the process of their self-production and the "the real consciousness of the social relations in which they appear to exists and to which they appear to be autonomous." In a similar manner substance is "an ideal hypostatized expression of the world as it exists" that is take as the foundation of the world "existing for itself." Marx returns to Feuerbach for clarification of substance and it anthropological resolution. We do not know much more, but the text seems to distinguish the Hegelian critique of substance and its possible materialist significance as "the existing world." We would have expected considerations on the immanence of modes in natura naturans and of their dynamic interdetermination. In any case, Marx refuses the young Hegelain opposition between self-consciousness and substance, and proposes to maintain the category of substance as an inseparable unity of the existing mode and the beings which constitute the world in the play of their relations. Marx's criticism has as its target the mystification of self-consciousness and its anti-substantial phobia. Everything takes place as if the ontological categories of Spinoza up until now rejected as conservative metaphysics have an intensive force irreducible to the critique of the young Hegelians. However, it remains that in this complex itinerary the use value of the reference to Spinoza is concentrated in the theological political constellation and the political constitution of the political force of social force. This reference becomes the presupposition of the materialist conception of history, but it does not intervene in the texture of these concepts. The Spinoza Reference in the Critique of Political Economy, Substance and Concept Returning to Schrader and his propositions for the study of the second moment of the reference to Spinoza, that of the Marxist use of Spinozist concepts from the Ethics in the development of the critique of political economy in the development of Capital. Schrader pays particular attention to the reappearance in the margins of the reference to Spinoza in the period of the creation and exposition of the critique of political economy which is developed from 1851 to 1863. An important letter from Marx to Lassale from May 31, 1858 which was published in an obscure book on Heraclitus, gives to Spinoza's metaphysics the same status that he gave to Hegel in a famous letter to Engels a few months before. Even among philosophers who give a systematic form to the works, as for example Spinoza, the true inner structure of the system is quite unlike the form in which it was consciously presented. The true system is only present in itself. (Marx MEW, 29, Berlin, 1963, 561).
What was of great use to me as regards method of treatment was Hegel's Logic at which I had taken another look by mere accident... If ever the time comes when such work is again possible, I should very much like to write 2 or 3 sheets making accessible to the common reader the rational aspect of the method which Hegel not only discovered but also mystified. (Correspondence Marx-Engels) Marx makes it clear that the elaboration of the critique passes through the utilization of elements of philosophical works which others appear to have completely bypassed. The presence of Hegel is the center of the interpretation of Capital. It would appear certain to this period that Marx no longer takes inspiration from the Feuerbachian critique of abstract speculation. In this case, the Idea separated from its contents generates the latter in a mystified way by legitimizing the crudest aspects, losing the benefit of seizing the real as a contradictory process, as is explained in The Holy Family or The Poverty of Philosophy. Hegel is from now on solicited for his dialectical discoveries: he elaborates the dialectic as an immanent process of thought and his discoveries serve Marx in developing his proper critique. The presence of Hegel in the period up to the publication of the first volume of Capital in 1867, in passing through diverse manuscripts of 1857-1858 (The Grundrisse) and the manuscripts from 1861-1863, has been attested to and demonstrated by works, either to reaffirm the heretical Hegelianism of Marx, (Rosdolsky, Reichelt, Zelenyi, all dedicated to research the logic of Capital, all following one of the most famous injunctions of all times, Lenin in the Notes on Dialectics) or to combat it in order to argue that Marx was Hegelian or anti-Hegelian (Althusser, and Bidet in his famous study, The Making of Marx's Capital). This usage of Hegel consists essentially in using the categories of logic to expose the theoretical structure of the passages which operate from the commodity to value, from money as the measure of value to money as the means of exchange and as the universal means of payment, from money to capital. Schrader proposes the following recovery of the Marxist exposition of Hegelian categories: --Exchange value and the form of value correspond to the pure quantity of Hegel: this value and its measure is realized as money. The Marxist measure of value adopts the Hegelian determinations of the quantitative relations and their measure. --The circulation of commodities and money is described by the concepts of an infinite qualitative and quantitative process. --Finally the passage from money to capital transposes the passage from being to essence. Marx has thus read and reused these conceptual determinations for the diverse functions of commodity, value, money and circulation. And what about Spinoza? According to Schrader, he intervenes to resolve a logical problem that is at this point unresolved, that of the determination of the concept of capital supposed to integrate the logically preceding determinations. In good Hegelianism, Marx has made the movement of capital that of the essence of the concept. When Marx maintains that exchange value is realized in the circulation of other substances, in an indefinite totality, without losing the determination of its form, always remaining money and commodities, he makes capital the totality of substances. However, it thus impossible to maintain the internal connection between capital and labor, and more precisely abstract labor. Spinoza intervenes to make possible another use of the category of substance: that would not have its function to subsume the plurality of all substances, but to determine the quality of the fluent quantity that defines abstract labor. One can see this in the text of Volume One of Capital, revised by Marx in 1873 for the French translation of J. Roy. The category of substance is introduce in the passage from the commodity to its determination as the contradictory unity of use value and exchange value. The exchange of commodities is only possible if the their values are "expressed in terms of something common to them all, of which thing they represent a greater or less quantities." This something is a substance specific to all commodities. "This common "something" cannot be either a geometrical, a chemical, or any other natural property of commodities…[] it is evident that one makes an abstraction from use value when one exchanges, and that the relation of exchange is characterized by this abstraction (Capital). Exchange and the production process which supports it operate this real abstraction from the useful qualities of the objects to be exchanged. This utility, although necessary, does not render possible the exchange of objects of value insofar as they products of labor. Exchange concerns the objects considered as products of labor. If then we leave out of consideration the use value of commodities, they have only one common property left, that of being products of labour. But even the product of labour itself has undergone a change in our hands. If we make abstraction from its use value, we make abstraction at the same time from the material elements and shapes that make the product a use value; we see in it no longer a table, a house, yarn, or any other useful thing. Its existence as a material thing is put out of sight. Neither can it any longer be regarded as the product of the labour of the joiner, the mason, the spinner, or of any other definite kind of productive labour. Along with the useful qualities of the products themselves, we put out of sight both the useful character of the various kinds of labour embodied in them, and the concrete forms of that labour; there is nothing left but what is common to them all; all are reduced to one and the same sort of labour, human labour in the abstract. Capitalism cannot be grasped as a subject enveloping the totality of the process of the development. It is no longer a simple quantity in indefinite expansion. It is thought as the "social substance of as exchange values." This substance can be determined as capital, but it goes beyond this process of determination by constituting a remainder, a "residue" that constantly reappears. "Let us now consider the residue of each of these products; it consists of the same unsubstantial reality in each, a mere congelation of homogeneous human labour, of labour power expended without regard to the mode of its expenditure. All that these things now tell us is, that human labour power has been expended in their production, that human labour is embodied in them. When looked at as crystals of this social substance, common to them all, they are – Values." The concept of Capital is not that of the concept of substance becoming subject., it returns to the concept of social substance defined as abstract labor creator of value, substance of value, and substance which increases value: purely progressive quantity reduced to its infinity which is a true infinity irreducible to the logic of bad infinity, that of capital which nonetheless subsumes it. However it is said that this reconstruction does not rest on an explicit reference to Spinoza. The objection is well founded. Schrader responds that it is Marx who reread Hegel and saw that the formal system of Spinoza could be used against Hegel critique of the concept of substance in the Logic. It is a matter of the problem of determination. Omnis determination negatio, Marx keeps reminding everyone of this. If it is Hegel who validates Spinoza's judgement by demonstrating its insufficiency which for Marx transforms into a sufficient truth to permit him to avoid identifying capital with the Hegelian concept. Capital can increase its reality only by determining this social substance of abstract labor, by negating it. The tendency of capital, its ideal, is the absolute negation of this substance. Marx makes the insufficiency of Spinoza's substance according to Hegel into a virtue. In the Logic the principle according to which determination is negation is recognized as essential. But Spinoza, according to Hegel, remains with determination as limit which is founded on an other being. The mode is in another from which it derives its being but this other is in itself. It is the integral concept of all realities. But its immanence is only apparent. Each mode negates each other, determination of each is the result of the determined negation of all of the others. Far from determining itself in these negations, substance is negated in its absolute indifference. It does not reflect itself in these negations no more than they reflect it. The Spinozist principle does not arrive at absolute negation that it anticipates contradictorily. The substance is posed by an external reflection which compromises the otherwise affirmed subsistence of the determinations which become an effervescent moment (attributes and modes). This can be read in the texts from The Science of Logic dedicated to Spinoza. "Of this proposition that determinateness is negation, the unity of Spinoza's substance — or that there is only one substance — is the necessary consequence. Thought and being or extension, the two attributes, namely, which Spinoza had before him, he had of necessity to posit as one in this unity; for as determinate realities they are negations whose infinity is their unity. According to Spinoza's definition, of which we say more more subsequently, the infinity of anything is its affirmation. He grasped them therefore as attributes, that is, as not having a separate existence, a self-subsistent being of their own, but only as sublated, as moments; or rather, since substance in its own self lacks any determination whatever, they are for him not even moments, and the attributes like the modes are distinctions made by an external intellect. Similarly, the substantiality of individuals cannot persist in the face of that proposition."Hegel, Science of Logic "Since absolute indifference may seem to be the fundamental determination of Spinoza's substance, we may add that this is indeed the case in so far as in both every determination of being, like every further concrete differentiation of thought and extension and so forth, is posited as vanished. If we stop short at the abstraction [of substance] then it is a matter of complete indifference what something looked like in reality before it was swallowed up in this abyss. But when substance is conceived as indifference, it is tied up with the need for determining it and for taking this determination into consideration; it is not to remain Spinoza's substance, the sole determination of which is the negative one that everything is absorbed in it. With Spinoza, the moment of difference — attributes, thought and extension, then the modes too, the affections, and every other determination — is introduced empirically; it is intellect, itself a mode, which is the source of the differentiation." Hegel, Science of Logic 3. It is capital which fails to realize its ideal determinations of essence and which falls back into the residue of the social substance, of the abstract labor which it masks. Capital as a mode of production is ruled by the real abstractions of exchange value which are not comprehended by social agents. Value is a social abstraction that is produced from the base of multiple dispersed evaluations, that the understanding of the economist produces only after the fact, but can be known as a real abstraction operated by society and which is determined as a social substance of abstract time. The determination of the common substance as abstract labor makes it possible to dissipate the mystification produced by the appearance of capital as the self moving essence of value. All of the people, who are modes of this substance, cannot immediately represent to themselves the internal determinations of this substance in which they appear other than as representation of theological-political complex, the same as the agents of capital who cannot represent to themselves the determinations of capital (commodity-value-money-forms of capital) without fetishizing them as autonomous movements of the value form. Theoretical knowledge, the Wissenschaft, does not dissolve this fetishism because the mechanisms of its social reproduction are founded on the constitution of these forms of representation and their real efficacy. Capital cannot arrive at self-identity in terms of an absolute reflection. The determination that Hegel imputes to Spinoza negatively of substance as exterior reflection can better convey the determinations of moments of its critique. This places within the development of initial economic forms this sort of equivalent of the attribute of extension that is human labor, this common social substance comprising the forms of modal representations which capture it, that is to say that the forms of consciousness and their functional relations in the material process of reproduction. It is therefore the relationship between the substances of abstract human labor and mystified or adequate forms of social representations of this substance that Marx finds in in the hidden Spinozian system and that he utilizes in order to escape the limits of Hegel's categories, which tend to sublimate substance into the concept and therefore annul the contradictions of capital in the passage from substance to the essence and the concept. From this point of view, Hegel and Spinoza would both be utilized without reservations by Marx as the complimentary and constitutive means of production of the critique of political economy. Spinoza would thus be primarily critical to the extent that the process of the development of the determination of capital cannot be ruled by the teleological order of being-essence-concept. The theory of the substance of abstract labor interrupts the movement of the idealization of capital from the mimesis of the Hegelian order that has been opposed. Spinoza is a moment of the emendation of the intellect internal to the Marxist critique, not an external instance that would be opposed in the confrontation with exteriority. On an Incomplete Analysis 1. Schrader goes no further. The outline of his work remains open. In particular this analysis Postulates as evidence a substantial theory of abstract labor, one that has come under criticism from multiple non-marxist thinkers (Croce, Pareto, Menger) and also, more recently, by Marxists (Althusser and Bidet). In this case the relation to Spinoza would lose its fecundity. But if one leaves to the side the labor theory of value and its supposed foundational role, on the internal level the analysis still remains allusive, because it would have been necessary to exceed the level of Volume One of Capital in order to demonstrate the decisive character of Spinoza's conceptuality in the Marxist conception. Despite these uncertainties, the perspective opened by Schrader is stimulating in that can necessitate a more rigorous study, tempering the contradictory interpretations by the rigors of philology. 2. Schrader's final remarks seem to us be more provocative. Starting from the idea that Spinoza and Marx begin from two different historical moments—that of manufacturing capital limited by the desire of hoarding and that of capitalism fully developed—the logical and ethico-political thesis of the submission of needs to absolute monetary enrichment, and that therefore the refusal of money as an end in itself, he begins to construct a shocking analogy between the third type of knowledge in Spinoza and the knowledge of the capitalist which exposes its money to circulation in order to multiply it. The determination of particular things sub specie aeternitas, as deepening the knowledge of their essence would symbolize with the effort of capitalists to insert money to measure things in their circulation sub specie capitalis. The reference to Marx attests to the irony of Marx: if the movement of true knowledge is infinite, this infinity cannot be confused with that of monetary accumulation which becomes a bad infinity because the means of accumulation are reversed and perverted to be posited as an end in itself. 3. It is more correct, as Schrader makes apparent, to find a space more effective for the forma mentis common to Marx and Spinoza: the two both diagnosis the pathology of the understanding and that of a form of life proper to a given historical world. Both understand the irreversible character of modern passions and set to understand and eventually cure these pathologies. Spinoza, son of a merchant enriched by international trade and a merchant himself in his youth, does not have contempt for money and the new wealth of nations promoted by capitalist economy. He does not dream of a return to oikos of finite needs in a household setting, he is not an aristoltean who condemns bad infinity of the circulation of merchandise which has as its object money and not the use value of merchandise. He registers the emergence of exchange value, he sees, as Aristotle did, that it is the subordination of true value. Remember the famous text from Ethics IV Appendix, consecrated to the function of money. XXVIII. Now to achieve these things the powers of each man would hardly be sufficient if men did not help one another. But money has provided a convenient instrument for acquiring all these aids. That is why its image usually occupies the mind of the multitude more than anything else. For they can imagine hardly any species of joy without the accompanying idea of money as its cause. XXlX. But this is a vice only in those who seek money neither from need nor on account of necessities, but because they have learned the art of making money and pride themselves on it very much. As for the body, they feed it according to custom, but sparingly, because they believe they lose as much of their goods as they devote to the preservation of their body. Those, however, who know the true use of money, and set bounds to their wealth according to need, live contentedly with little. The realization of money as a concept, the accumulation of money for accumulation, is unrealized. Marx adds that this goal is inaccessible because the character of use value of commodities contradicts the universal sociality of value. The common social substance in so far as it is measured in abstract labor time is measured according to quantitatively determined portions. Money is supposed to represent value in its infinite becoming of an end in itself, but it can only effectively represent a determined part. This contradiction is resolved in the deplacement that money makes in becoming capital, exchange value multiplied in profit. Spinoza's therapeutic of desire also concern the intellect of calculation: the latter is not condemned, it is superior to the intellect of avarice which theorizes by avarita and does not develop the capacity to act and think. This understanding, however, is called upon to better understand the monetary economy by subordinating it to immanent true utility, that which is inscribed in the republic of free citizens. It is only in this sense that the accumulation of wealth under the monetary form can enter into the correct perspective of knowledge of the third kind. Marx in his own way wants to understand the action of human beings without deploring or flattering them. Capital cannot be understood going from substance to the essence of the concept, but it has its basis in substance, the social substance of abstract labor, and can be rethought and regrouped in the forms of economic understanding. Capital also has as its goal a particular therapeutic manner, the health and well-being of a social body that cannot be subsumed under capital but must encompass the increase of the capacities of acting and thinking that capital subordinates to itself. 4. This anti-teleological function of the concept of substance/abstract labor is not maintained by Marx for long in his dialectic. Certainly the function of the subject cannot be attributed to capital, but it is displaced and given a different support, not that of abstract labor with its internal multiplicity and impersonality, but its bearer, that of the working class, the proletariat, the people of the people. The substance of abstract labor becomes subject in the determination that Marx always uses with the English term general intellect. One could thus see a final return of Hegel which interrupts Marx's return to Spinoza. The communism developed by the general intellect is the practical substitute of the Hegelian concept and imposes an anthropological version and anthropocentric teleology that Spinoza would not accept. What does the general intellect represent? It represents the capacity of the proletariat to organize the ensemble of forces defining the collective worker and the cooperation associated with it, under the direction of formation of the factory in the constitution of the unqualified worker, all representing the advance front of the progressive socialization of the social productive forces. Communism is not something that is imposed as a simple moral ideal, it is a product of the real historical process. However, Marx does not escape here the teleologism that he shares with majority of German idealism. The socialization of productive forces—that for Marx leads the process of the self-production of humanity realizing its immanent end and to which he attributes the function of the concept—is not realized at the level of society. It cannot in any way constitute itself as a causa sui. The human world remains a world of world of modal relations and interactions: if the effects of liberation can realize themselves at the level of the individual (by the knowledge of singular things) or at the level of collectivity ( by the democratic constitution of the multitude), these effects would not be made from a mode as a complete cause of itself under all points of view. The capacity of a mode to act and think, human individual or society, can be more or less adequate, but this adequation does not annul the difference that separates the mode which is produced by and in another which it requires to subsist and which is produced in and by itself and becomes a cause of itself. The identity of natura naturata and natura naturans cannot grant a mode the capacity to be cause of itself under all points of view: it permits it to do so under certain points of view and certain conditions which are sufficient for an ethical realization. Communism to the extent that Marx thinks in terms of the becoming concept of the collective worker exceeds the conditions and possibilities of action predicated on modes. To this structural impossibility we can add the consideration of an analytical one: modern society is not immense and singular enterprise under the order of the collective worker, it is, to say the least, a network of antagonistic enterprises in which on the contrary the process of work is fragmented to the point where it loses all material and ideal unity, a fragmentation that has been imposed by the imperative of capitalist society. Exploitation is not only maintained but it is generalized, it is only in compensation that the recomposition of labor process itself as something collective, cooperative, and associated that Marx believes leads the dialectic of the process of capitalist production. Spinozist realism is here irreducible. It does not limited us in taking the measure of the problem posed generally by Marx, it excludes, however, the solution envisioned from speculative teleology and it compels us to attempt to comprehend the modal form in which exploitation is reproduced. How can we form a new theory of the capacity for insurrection of the multitude subordinated to capital while they also resist it. What effects of liberation can still be manifested by producing new subjectivities which are embedded in real productive activities, not prisoners of unproductive ghettos ravaged by self-destructive violence, nor recluse themselves in the powerless rumination of a moral salvation? How can we escape forms of historical impotence? How can we avoid being reduced to the status of spectators of this impotence? Such are the questions posed by Marx and which are posed again today along with Spinoza and his critique of the teleological illusions of the general intellect, questions which have not arrived at the end of their road. But it is historically vain to ask Marx these questions: they are ours and it is up to us to answer them.
Issue 27.5 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. C~orrespondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to KEVIEW FOR RELI~3IOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63io3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, pennsylvania ~91o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1968 by REvmw FOR RELm~Ot3S at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class pos!age paid at Baltimore, Maryland. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to Rzvmw Fort R~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR. RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REvIEw ~Oa RELIGIOtJS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore. Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittanct should be sent to REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS ; 4~8 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaD, land 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to R~vmw ~oa RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 5 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Signs Charisms, Apostolates "Signs of the times" is a phrase that has been bandied about for so long in ecclesiastical circles that it has be-come part of our Christian vocabulary and has helped to define the relationship between the Church and the world.1 It is a category which sums up and expresses the Christian interpretation.of human, history---of the events which give evidence of and vindicate God's pres-ence and activity in the world through human agency. It has been empl'oyed in papal and conciliar documents not as a pious exhortation but in order to draw attention to the Christian duty of recognizing, analyzing, and assessing the events and movements of !aistory as so ma.ny opportunities for evangelisation. The Church will have a dynamic and effective apostolate in the world only if she discerns and assesses the values to be found in the world today. The charisms or gifts with which the Spirit of Christ endows the Church enable her not only to interpret contemporary history but to meet the needs of peoples. Pope John XXIII first used the expression "signs of the times" in the apostolic constitution Humanae salutis, proclaiming the Second Vatican Council3 "Indeed," he said, "we make ours the recommendation of Jesus that one should know how to distinguish the 'signs of the times' (Mr 16:4), and we seem to see now, in the midst of so much darkness, a few indications which augur well for the fate of the Church and of humanity." After 1 See M.-D. Chenu, O.P., "Les signes des temps," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 20-$9; "The Church and the World," Documentatie Centrum Concilie, n. 52; "The Christian Value of Earthly Realities," ibid., n. 157; "A Pastoral Constitution on the Church," ibid., n. 205. = Walter M. Abbott, S.J., and Joseph Gallagher (eds.), The Docu-ments o[ Vatican H (New York: America Press, Guild Press, Associa-tion Press, 1966), p. 704. All translations of Vatican II documents throughout the article are taken from this edition. Joseph Fichtner, O~S.C., is a faculty member of the Cro-sier House of Stud-ies; 2620 East Wal-len Road, Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ $oseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. listing several indications he himself had noticed, he added: "And this facilitates, no doubt, the apostolate of the Church . " The phrase was given a little more precise applica-tion by the same pontiff in his encyclical Peace on Earth,~ most significant for addressing itself not only to members of the Church but to "all men of good will." Here John XX!II observed how our age is distinguished by three characteristics: (1) the promotion o[ the working classes; (2) the entry of women into public life; and (3) the emancipation of colonized peoples. All three together signi[y that sweeping socialization whose Christian value the Church embraces with the arms of her catholicity. The recourse she may have to such signs of the times is not. a matter of opportunism but the result of understanding the spirit of the times and how the Spirit o[ Christ is at work in them. In his first encyclical Ecclesiam Suam,4 Pope Paul VI retained the term aggiornamento coined by John XXIII and associated it with the "signs of the times" as a pro-gram of action: "We want to recall it to mind as a stim-ulus to preserve the perennial vitality of the Church, her continuous awareness and ability to study the signs of the times and her constantly youthful agility in 'scrutiniz-ing it all carefully and retaining only what is good' (I Thes 5:21) always and everywhere." As John XXIII made the signs of the times the nerve center of his en-cyclical and the reason [or his optimistic outlook upon the health of the world, so did Paul VI comment upon them favorably after his return from Jerusalem on J.anuary 8, 1964, asking the faithful to understand, reflect upon, and learn how to go about deciphering them. Finally, despite some hesitation about accepting the phrase because of its biblical derivation, it was taken up into the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World:5 "To carry out such a task [of service], the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting-them in the light o[ the gospel . We must therefore recognize and understand the world in which we live, its expec-tations, its longings, and its often dramatic characteris-tics." The same article sketches by way of contrasts some of the contemporary characteristics: social, economic, and cultural transformation versus the uncertainty about the direction man is giving it; abundant wealth, natural resources, economic power, and the accompanying hun- 3 William J. Gibbons, S.J. (ed.), Pacera in terris (New York: Paul-ist Press, 1963), nn. 39-45. ~ The Pope Speaks, v. 10 (1965), p. 271, n. 20. The translation given above differs somewhat from the reference. 3 Article 4. ger and poverty; the unity and solidarity of the world versus the threat of total war; exchange of. ideas and diverse ideologies; a better world movement without equal zeal for spiritual betterment;'hope and anxiety. Its use in Matthew 16:4 has rendered the ph~rase sus-pect, for in the Matthean context the term "signs" refers to the miracles Jesus Worked, which is far from the meaning attached to it by either the popes or the recent council. What the latter had in mind were the events, not necessarily miraculous or extraordinary, taking place in the course of human history having spiritual and symbolic significance. The events, what-ever they may be, have both historical and theological significance. This means that beyond their immediate, brute, historical content, they have a value because they are an expression of an other reality. One can, for exam-ple, envision the forms of civilization---industrialization, socialization, urbanization, decolonialism--simply as historical trends, and then again, as the Pastoral Con-stitution on the Church in the Modern World would have us do, .as pointers to a higher reality. They open to man "spiritual vistas long unsuspected." 6 ,Perhaps their spiritual and symbolic significance can be seen more clearly when we recognize them to be signs of the times.7 The Church's duty, if her mission is to be accredited by God,. is to see that the question of God be not left out of any understanding ~ of contemporary history. The Church is dealing here with a "theophany" that has been termed "theonetics," the study of God in change. She is living in a messianic age with an escha-tological thrust--toward the end of time. Christ appeared in the one unique kairos, in the "fullness of time," and the Church is to. appear in His stead, as His' Body, con-tinuously and permanently in the process of time. Her mission in the course of human history is to interpret events and phenomena in such a way as never to let the world lose sight of its creative and redemptive reality, the transcendent and immanent in it. The Church bears witness to the economy of salvation as she sees it unfold-ing itself in history. The times furnish her with the Signs whereby she can be both sensitive to the movement of history and docile to the Holy Spirit helping her inter-pret the signs. She is in the same situation as Israel was when Yahweh was dealing with her in the concrete history Of her people. Failing this task to read the signs. of the times and to recognize their theological implica-tions, the Church abandons the world to its blind his-torical events. Chenu, "Les signes,'; p. 32. See E. Jenni, "Time," The Interpreter's Dictionary o! the Bible, ,1.4. sig,~, Chaa.~, Apostolates VOLUME ~7, ~.968 4, $oseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ Part of the difficulty of such a task is that though the Church is distinct from the world, she is linked up with it. The emphasis throughout her history has fallen upon either of the two, the distinction or the link. Whenever the Church felt the distinction from the world most keenly, she shied away from her duty of evaluating earthly realities or else failed to understand them entirely or too glowly.8 It is far easier to insist upon the current categories of the temporal-spiritual, profane-sacred, civilization-evangelization, creation-redemption, history-salvation, Church-world, nature-grace, than to grasp their interrelationship. If the dualisms emerge too sharply, the Church may treat them too much apart, pass abstract judgment upon them, so that "never the twain shall meet." ¯ Granted, evangelization is not of the same order as civilization. To promote culture is not to convert to the faith. To feed the hungry and give drink to the thirsty is a duty of Christian charity, but it is not equivalent to preaching the word of God, teaching catechetics, or administering the sacraments. And yet the many earthly values are the common capital of all men, believers and unbelievers alike. Wherever they may be found, they afford the good ground for evangelical growth. Without such positive values as order, justice, right, freedom, and so forth, the work of God would have to operate in a vacuum. All human enterprise, personal as well as social, so long as it promotes the good, the true, the just, and the beautiful, is the fulfillment of that hidden potential man has in himself as an image of his Maker. Humanity itself served an incarnational purpose for the Son of God; all the good works of humanity subserve.the further goal of evangelization. All such works and the values attaching to them, because they signal the gradual development of man, his humanisation, are to be considered the prevenient signs and predispositions for the diffusion of the gospel. Man, confronted by the immense resources of nature, including his own almost infinite capacities, becomes more human through the advance of science, technology, culture, and socialization. At the same time he is left open to spiritual values, his personal and social life as it develops presents positive dispositions for the incar-nation of. divine life. For example, the closer he comes to fulfilling his aspiration for peace, the more likely he is to receive "a peace the world cannot give." 9 Major improve- 8 S~e Heinrich Tenhumberg, "The Role of Church Authority in Investigating the Signs of the Times," Third Session Council Speeches of Vatican H, ed. William K. Leahy and Anthony T. Massimini (New York: Paulist Press, 1966), pp. 172-3. See also Paul Gouyon, "Reading the.Signs of the Times," ibid., pp. 154-7. 8 Jn 14:27. ments upon mass communications help the Christian to spread the message of the gospel universally. So in every instance where he is an agent of truly human progress he renders himself fit for or subject to .grace. What scholastic theology calls the "obediential potency" of men is nothing else than man radically-good but now more than ever open and receptive to grace because of .the development of his capacities.10 Popes John and Paul and the Vatican Council have called our attention to the social dimensions of this obediential.potency. A fair illustration and parallel to our times can be taken from early Christianity when the fathers of the Church observed a major and universal phenomenon of their own stage of human evolution, the civilization of the Roman Empire. The socialization in .our day is comparable to the" civilization in theirs. They were ready to describe the civilization of the Roman Empire as an evangelical preparation. The cultural value of language alone, such as the Greek and the Latin, helped them to proclaim the gospel far and wide, though they could have been tradition-bound by the language of their Founder. The worldwide extension of social and political values, moreover, provided them the good ma-terial for the construction of the kingdom of God. They found the Roman Empire to be a meeting, place for Christianity; its cobblestones were the stepping-stones for "the feet of one who brings good news." 11. Earthly realities, however,, do not always and every-where contain pure or undiluted values; their values oftentimes are ambiguous, contaminated by error or sin. The fathers of the Church realized this fact too, but it did not prevent them from sifting the important values from an admixture of good and evil. In the grandeur of nature, though occasionally troubled in land, sky, and sea, they discovered the vestigia Dei, and in the grandeur of a tainted human nature an imago Dei. Mined ore has its measure of slag before its refinement in a smelting furnace. The same is true of labor organization, agrarian reform, social charity, and so forth. The ultimate per-spective of human projects, faulty as they may be in their hesitant beginnings, may go far beyond their im-mediate realization. This is why it is so ne.cessary to read the signs of the times correctly and not let ourselves be confused over realities.which onesidely seem to be stumbling blocks or idols for mankind. In rendering service to the world we cannot help but expose our own weaknesses and limitations. This exposure is unavoidable, and the a0St. Thomas Aquinas, De virtutibus incommuni, a.10, ad 13; 1-2, ci.ll3, a.10. n Is 52:7. Signs~ Chhrisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27~ 1968 77i Church herself admits it in her Pastoral Constitution On the Church in the Modern World: ". the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact its supremely human character." x2 There will certainly be risks to assume while drawing the good out of all possible resources for building the kingdom of God. But the risks will be diminished to the extent that we recognize and receive the values of the world in the light of the gospel and instinct with faith" and charity. Faith fed by an intensive prayer life will. have to be on the alert to follow God's designs in .the progress of nations. If the risk is great on the one hand, there is no less risk, for lack of faith and discernment, in failing to see the divine interventions in the events of today. Vatican CounCil II was mindful of this risk when it exemplified a discernment of the signs of the times by way of con-trasts, Such a discernment inspired by the Holy Spirit reveals the Spirit working within the signs: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons." in Re.ligious institutes cannot rest content with the papal and conciliar exhortation to discern the signs of the times, nor are they generally qualified to do so without the charisms or gifts of the Holy Spirit. What the Church i~s able to analyze and assess universally, the various religious groups should do locally and periodically, always ready to seek out new solutions for new problems, How else is adaptation to circumstances possible? They might ask themselves questions such as these: What are ¯ the needs of the local community, civic and religious? Do signs of the times show themselves locally, pointing the way for a religious community to promote and take action? Housing projects, job opportunities, educational facilities, cultural programs, ecumenical activities, social charities, and a host of other situations--do they not cry out for that cooperation without which God will not intervene in human events excepting miraculously? As fast as science and technology are moving ahead into the future, can the religious apostolate afford not to re-examine itself periodically? One of the characteristics of the new-style religious life would seem to be presence in an ever changing society. Members are determined to share in the suffering, sacrifice, and conflict affecting society today. ,~÷ But is there not a subtle temptation in thinking'one ,.4. .has to leave his milieu behind in order t.o go "where the ¯÷ action is" ? The local apostolate, along with the charisms befitting it, may well be the first obligation of a religious group. Heinrich Tenhumberg, Auxiliary Bishop of Mfinster, Joseph Fichtner, 0.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS !772 Article 11. Rom 8:19. Germany, in a speech to the Council Fathers on October 26, 1964, commenting upon the schema of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, raised the question why in her past the Church too rarely acknowledged the free action of her members who aptly recognized the signs of the times. Fie laid down what he thought were the four conditions for rightly investigating and interpreting the signs of the times, one of which was that "room must be given to a new evaluation of the charisms and gifts of the Holy Spirit among the People of God." 14 Without aspiring to such a mature and correct understanding of the signs of the times, he felt the Church would not be able to "fulfill the will.of God in time." The question Bishop Tenhum-berg raises does not touch upon the fidelity of God to His Church in the modern world, as if He might forsake her in an hour of need; he simply asks whether the Church always utilizes the prophetic gifts which keep her au courant. Of course, the same question can be directed to religious institutes as belonging to the char-ismatic character of the people of God. "Charism" is the near transliteration of a Greek term typically Pauline. It is to be found in the Pauline Epistles and once in the First Epistle of Peter. The latter more or less encapsulates the Pauline idea of a charism: "Each of you has received a special grace, so, like good stewards responsible for all these different graces of God, put yourselves at the service of others." 15 Paul, too, regards the charisms as given to members of the Christian com-munity in trust for the common good of that community. The four lists of charisms he provides indicate how diversified these gifts are, yet none of the lists nor all of them together are ~xhaustive.16 In this enumeration there is no hint of Paul prognosticating about the future needs of the Church and how his lists of charisms are sufficient for them. To envisage the function of each charism for the bene-fit of the whole community, Paul ~onjures up the image of the human body with all of its members contributing to its welfare.~7 The multiplicity of the charisms, rather than manifesting conflict with one another within the totality of the body or tearing it apart, tend toward its 14 Tenhumberg, "The Role," p. 174. The first, second, and fourth conditions are: a renewed theology of the Holy Spirit and of His life and activity within the Church; a renewal of biblical and patris-tic theology; a new style of Church authority and a new method for it to act, watch, and judge. ~ 1 Pt 4:10. See a preconciliar explanation of the charismatic element in the Church by Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (New York: Herder and Herder, 1964), pp. 42-83. an I Cor 12:8-10, 28-30; Rom 12:6-8; Eph 4:11. a~ See Rom 12:4-6. + + + Signs, ~harisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 77~ ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS unity. In this connection it is interesting to compare the Pauline idea of this totalizing effect of the charisms with the opinion expressed by St. Hippolytus of Rome in his introduction to the Apostolic Tradition, a third-century document. He asserts that "all charisms which from the beginning God gave to man in accordance with his will, restore to man the image which was lost." The early Church thought of the apostolate as the first of the spiritual gifts entrusted to her by Christ. It was itself a charism. Scripture, particularly the Pauline writings, witness to the fact that the Twelve did not lay exclusive claim to the title of "apostle." Probably because they felt the need of the assistance of others, they invested the rest with some of their own power and called them "apostles." The apostolate and the prophetic spirit was, for Paul, the foundation of the Church, with Christ as its cornerstone,is The apostolate was a spiritual gift he treasured much, and that is why he so frequently re-ferred to it. A closer investigation into the charisms of the early Church and their meaning and use bears out the fact that the early Church was so convinced o~ her charismatic role under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit that it has led some scholars, peering back into that time, to be-lieve the Church to have been entirely charismatic and not at all hierarchical and institutional. Relating the role of the Holy Spirit to the mystery of the Church, the Dog-matic Constitution on the Church takes issue with such a stand, stating: "He [the Holy Spirit] furnishes and directs her [the Church] with various gifts, both hierar-chical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of His grace (cf. £ph 4:11-12; 1 Cor 12:4; Gal 5:22)." 19 Part and parcel of her charismatic structure is the re-ligious life, and only within this structure does it find its authentic ecclesial dimension. Paul esteemed the apostolate to be a gift and a de-manding task at one and the same time. It would be foolish of us to think the early Christians were buoyed up by a host of fancy, even magical, spiritual gifts and had to exert no effort of their own. We do them an in-justice in imagining their life was surrounded with the miraculous. A good glance at some of their charisms will tell how much need there was for personal and communal effort. Works of mercy--nursing, almsgiving, adminis-tration, fraternal help of every kind--cost effort on their part. So did the preaching, teaching, and discernment of spirits. All such charisms had to be met halfway by men of good will .and selflessness; they demanded that same See Eph 2:20. Article 4. human enterprise and exertion which we ~aw had to be put into a periodic reappraisal of thh signs of the times. For some time before Vatican II theology was reluc-tant to teach that charisms belong to the contemporary Church. Theology was wont to confine the charisms to the primitive Church and to limit them characteristically to the miraculous or extraordinar~y. Vatican II changed all that theological opinion. Little and great charisms have existed throughout the history of the Church. As we read in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, the Holy Spirit "distributes special graces among the faith-ful of every rank . These charismatic gifts, whether they be the most outstanding or the more ,simple and widely diffused, are to be received with thanksgiving and consolation, for they are exceedingly suitable and useful for the needs of the Church." 20 There seems to be no reason then to hold the early Church to have been more richly endowed with charisms than the Church today. In the Church then as now charisms are spiritual gifts bestowed freely especially for the benefit of others. Wherever one discovers the incon-spicuous service of the Church, no matter how small the ecclesial operation, there, in such gifts, one will likely detect some sort of divine intervention. However slight a manifestation of loving service, it may conceal a gift of the Spirit of Christ. Charisms may be found together wherever one sees the accumulated effect of a sign. Charismatic gifts are not only rare and extraordinary but common and ordinary. Anyone who is willing to expend himself for Christ in heroic fidelity to common-place, everyday things is gifted with a charism. Under the common thing the hidden grace. The gifts of the Holy Spirit are deeper, more hidden and widespread or pervasive than we know. Who is to set limits upon His gifts in our life? Are we too inclined to look for gifts only in the spectacular, the colossal, the newsworthy, like finding a solution to wars, social problems, ecclesias-tical enigmas? Many are the gifts wrapped in the small packages of fidelity to duty, kindness, sincerity, purity, courage, truthfulness, trust, love. At this point it may be time to push Bishop Tenhumberg's argument one notch further by asking if there is any possibility at all of interpreting the signs of the times unless charisms are better employed? How closely interconnected, in fact, intermingled are charisms with the signs of the times? Do we have to speak of them as "values" to observe how they overlap? St. Paul never meant to enumerate all the Charisms of Article 12. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, Chazisms~ Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 + + ÷ .loseph Fichtner, O .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit at work in his day, possibly because he did not discern them all; nor is it possible for us to list them in our own day, excepting to mention, as he did, that there are varieties of gifts, all of which are intended for the good of the Church. Gifts of nature, talent, skill, com-petence, which often are the substratum of grace and are not easily told apart from it, are not to be hoarded or stingily communicated. Were it possible to paraphrase I Corinthians 12, we would have to say that the variety of gifts discloses itself somewhat differently now than in early Christianity. Perhaps this variety shows up in in-telligence or scholarship or scientific research, social reforms, artistic talent, catechetical skill, pediatrics, ger-ontology, the schooling of exceptional children, liturgical zeal, youth programming, public relations, apostolic en-deavor, mystical bent, and so forth. Gifts of all kinds, specializations, are useful and necessary in the Church in the modern world and are not to be bottled up or hidden. Nor will they function properly if restricted to a loner or a clique. They will dictate the abandoning of some apos-tolates and the assuming of others. Various gifts of the Spirit should enable Christians to work together harmoniously in the Church, for though the gifts are many they are one in the Spirit. In the Decree on the Apostolate of ~he Laity the unity of the apostolate is accentuated, however variously it may ex-press itself: "From the reception of these charisms or gifts, including those which are less dramatic, there arise for each believer the right and duty to use them in the Church and in the world for the good of mankind and for the upbuilding of the Church." ~ Since no one can claim all the gifts, their very diversity can do service in many apostolates and fit together into a fine pattern of apostolic activity. St. Paul wrote about this unity because he himself was faced with the Corinthian quarreling over gifts as though they were held in contention or competition: "There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit, there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in different people, it is the same God who is work-ing in all of them." ~z Whereas Paul had in mind char-isms belonging to individuals, it seems more appropriate to think that nowadays the charisms are diffused among groups of men and women who are willing to pool their capabilities and resort to consultation and con-certed action. The Spirit confers communal charisms as well as individual. Charity, according to Paul, is their unifying factor, and therefore he stresses the fact that charity outranks ~XArticle 3. =1Cor 12:4-6. them all. Charity motivates the recipients of the gifts to employ them for the common good of mankind. Charity too allows us who live in a community to appreciate the variety of gifts distributed among the members, so that each person can be different because of them even when we do not comprehend why he is so gifted or how he is so effective with his gifts. We must leaim to be patient, tolerant, and sensitive to one another, letting another employ his gift(s) as he sees fit as long as he is not misguided in his zeal and effort (how can a so-called charism square with" an otherwise questionable life?).- The function of gifts cannot be legislated in complete detail, nor can everybody in every circumstance abide by such detail. Practical matters simply cannot be regula.ted unanimously. But it may take charismatic courage to say "No" to a trend or policy or spirit which proves to be wrong and damaging to the Church. Egotism sometimes blinds us to the divine goodness in the many splendid achievements, the human values, round about us. Humility, contrariwise, prompts us to behold the marvels of God's grace. Charismatic goodness is to 'be found abundantly in the Church' and society if we would only peel from our eyes the scales of our selfish-ness. We are tempted to look only for the things which suit our fancy. ,At times, no doubt, the charismatic may frighten us or appear threatening because it is novel and catches us by surprise. It may be shocking, and yet upon investigation it may reveal a hidden or unknown contlnmty with something of the past. Liturgical change, for example, may startle today but in itself be a revival of a tradition dating back to the early Church. Charismatic leaders ¯ may be criticized for their bumptiousness or impetuosity; -they may obe called untraditional or subversive; their spirit may be attributed to a yen for change. They and their gifts may meet with contradiction, apathy, sloth, delay, distrust, because not all others discern their true value or the Spirit introducing them into the Church and society. Difficult as it is to sense the Spirit at work among charismatic leaders, it is no less difficult for the charis-matic leaders themselves to be sure of their own inspira-tions and enthusiasms. The uncertainty within themselves is compounded by the opposition they inevitably meet from without. Men like Gandhi, John XXIII, and Martin Luther King, Jr. exemplify the point at hand. We who are caught up .in the crosscurrents sweeping through the Church at the present time easily recognize the signs of opposition. They are like the churning waters left behind by a ship, the wake of its effort to plow ahead through the rampaging sea. + + Signs, Charinm, Apostolates ~OI.UME 27, 1968 777 + ÷ ÷ ]o, seph Fichtner, . . 0.$.~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 7.78 This opposition is mild in comparison with the re-jection the true apostle has to contend with while follow-ing Christ in the modern world: rejection by his enemies because what he upholds or promotes is hostile to them, and rejection by his own who fail to understand him or his gift(s). The cost of apostleship and discipleship is sul~ering-- the sacrifice of earthly ties, possessions, life itself. What uncompromising zeal is necessary for the disciple as he assumes the cost of his charism. Christ expected His followers to encounter suffering, at least the pain of carrying out the burden or responsibility of a charism.23 It is painful to realize charismatic limitations, painful to be humbled by other charismatic activities which clash with ours. Not all gifts are operative in the Church at the same time, so they will have to bide their time. The important thing to remember is that the charisms meant for the apostolate place their recipients in the service of Christ who was a suffering Servant for His people. Since Vatican Council II considered the religious way of life to be charismatic and apostolic, it is only to be expected that this life should suffer through its current attempts at self-renewal. The charism of the religious founder was the germ of "the original inspiration of a given community," 24 which has to undergo the pain of growth. The retention or modification of that charism which he injected in his community can cause suffering especially when the personal charisms of members are in conflict with it. The Spirit communicates a "spirit" determinative of "the particular character of each com-munity," which can put the community at odds with ecclesiastical authority and occasion large-scale dissatis-faction. 25 Thus the vital principle of a religious com-munity can be at one and the same time the source of its sanctity and the cause for the purification of its orig-inal gift. The most agonizing encounters with ecclesias-tical authority occur in the field of the apostolate, a fact confirmed by contemporary examples. Yet Vatican II admitted it was "by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities' grew up" with "the diversity of their spiritual endowments." 2n This is an admission that the Spirit of Christ communi-cates directly and not necessarily or always through "~ See Lk 14:25-35. ~ Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Lile, Article 2. See M. Olphe-Galliard, s.J., "Le charisme des [ondateurs religieux," Vie consacrge, v. 39 (1967), pp. 338-52. ~Decree on the Bishops' Pastoral O0~ce in the Church, Article 35.2." 28Decree on the Appropriate Renewal oI the Religious Lile, Ar-ticle 1. hierarchical channels. By their initiative and creativity, in accordance with their special gifts, religious com-munities initiate movements which only later may be taken up by authority. Their apostolates lie at the fron-tiers of the Church, supported by the gifts, small and great, of the Holy Spirit. The ultimate norm of the religious life is "a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel." z7 The gospel pic-tures Jesus addressing himself to the J.ews who were accusing Him of blasphemy, speaking of Himself as "someone the Father consecrated and sent into the world." 28 Christ in turn called others to this same ~onsecration and same mission, that is, ap6stolate. They had to give up all things to follow Him. Religious have appropriated to themselves the word spoken by Peter the Apostle: "We have left everything and fol-lowed you." 29 Christ called fishermen and a tax collector to the apostolate: "Follow me.''30 This call to obedience meant adherence to the Person of Jesus Christ and fellowship with Him. Before Christ entrusted any offices to His followers, He established a community among them with Himself at the center; He shaped them into a Christocentric community. The early apostolic life was not motivated by some form of hero worship but by obedience to the Son of God. The Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Re-ligious Life devotes an entire article to a discussion of the apostolate.31 After explaining in Article 5 that the life of religious is "an act of special consecration [to Christ] which is deeply rooted in their baptismal con-secration and which provides an ampler manifestation of it," the decree shows how its basic unity is diversified in two vocations, corttemplative and apostolic. The special consecration can be lived in two ways because of its twofold orientation. Vatican Council II was look-ing at the religious life phenomenologically: it saw therein two principal orientations, one toward con-templation, the other toward the apostolate. The religious apostolate then must stem from the special consecration to Christ; it is an apostolic con-secration. The religious apostolate is not simply a gesture, a sort of outward and incidental manifestation of the love consecrated men and women have for Christ. It is ~ Ibid., Article 2. 's Jn 10:36. =~ Mt 19:27. ~ Mk 2:14. ~ Article 8. See £. Pin, S.J., "Les instituts religieux apostoliques et le changement so¢io-culturel," Nouvelle revue thdologique, v. 87 (1965), pp. 395-411. ÷ ÷ ÷ Signs, ~Tharisms, Apostolates VOLU~E ~7; i~3 779 ÷ Joseph Fich0t~n.e(~r,. REV[EW FOR RELIGIOUS rather a concrete and unmistakable love expressed in a life '!committed to apostolic works." 32 In Article 8 we read about the "various aspects of the apostolate," how religious groups make diversified con-tributions to the common good of the Church. These contributions, the decree points out, derive from the varieties of gifts given to the groups by the Holy Spirit. The varieties of gifts determine to a large extent, though not fully, the specific apostolic orientation a religious group takes--teaching, nursing, social work, home and foreign missions, and so forth. Although the decree does not refer to it explicitly, it implicitly wants religious to consider the interrelationship of signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates: "Communitie.~ should promote among their members a suitable awareness of contem-porary human conditions and of th~ needs of the Church. For if their members can combine the burn-ing zeal of an apostle with wise judgments, made in the light of faith, concerning the circumstances of the modern world, they will be able to come to the aid of men more elfectively."3a Such studies as psychology, sociology, anthropology, economics, political science, can be the humanistic basis for the charisms to be more under-standing of and productive in the world. In a second paragraph within Article 8 the council links closely two spirits that should dominate each other in the religious life, the religious and the apostolic. Without such interlinking the religious life would suffer and die. The key statement to this effect is the following: "Flence the entire religious life of the rdembers of these communities should be penetrated by an apostolic spirit, as their entire apostolic activity should be ani-mated by a religious spirit." Here we touch upon a delicate point of the spiritual renewal asked "for by Vatican II--the possibility of failure to renew a spirit while changes are made "on behalf of contemporary needs." "Indeed such an interior renewal must always be accorded the leading role even in the promotion of exterior works." a4 Of course it is impossible to set any determinate, calculable hours apart for each, prayer and apostolate, but it is essential to realize that the two go hand in hand. In order to avoid the idea that perhaps apostolic works will lead to the danger of activism, to a self-seeking in the apostolate, to immoderate desire for action, to some sentimental involvement in the lives of others, the council asserted that "apostolic activity should ~ See the first reference in footnote $1. ~ Article 2. ~ Decre~ on th~ ,4ppropriate Renewal o/th~ Religious Life, Arti-cle 2. result from intimate union with" Christ.35 It would not have a Christlike spirit and would be torn from an apos-tolic witness, a body of Christianity without a Heart. The prayer itself of religious should be apostolic. Normally they will make their own the petition in Christ's prayer: "Thy kingdom come"--all the spiritual interests confided to the community. Daily community prayer will embrace all the persons who are in the in-timate care of the community: personnel, students, patients, fellow religious, all who depend upon the community for their spiritual sustenance. Instead of being an evasion of apostolic duty, wrongly inspired by the idea that the community can cure every evil and help everyone with prayer alone, its apostolic prayer will be a catharsis and a strength .for apostolic activity. Its members will not dilute their prayer life with all the worry and anxiety they experience throughout their daily apostolate. Apostolic prayer will be for them a humble and confident conversation with Christ who may find them worthy of His own fiery love for the people His Father committed to Him to redeem. A community closely bound together is prone to feel that its communitarian link conditions its form of presence and activity in the world. Community life of itself is not necessarily opposed to an effective presence and activity in the world. But its members obligate them-selves to live this tension between presence in the world and presence in a community till the' eschatological day when the Church and world will be entirely one. No matter how well they try to regulate their life, there will inevitably be some tension between religious observance and apostolic works, between the structural and the ~harismatic. It would be an easy solution to turn the time for observances into an apostolically disordered life. The regular community observance has apostolic meaning and purpose. Perhaps this tension can be eased by better budgeting and managing of time and service. Better management will help to avoid the two extremes of a rigid formalism on the one hand and a disordered and frantic life on the other. The former is harmful to the apostolate, the latter arouses anxiety or qualms of conscience. All the discussion nowadays against structure and the institutional Church can do harm to what is good and useful of structure and the institutional Church. Some sort of structure and a prudently regulated observance is an indispensable aid to religious life and to the apostolate. To take an example from family life--how much family life remains if members come and go as they Ibid., Article 8. 4- 4- 4- Signs, Charisms, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 781 ÷ ÷ ÷ $oseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS please without any recourse to a schedule for meals, sleep, work, recreation, and especially to a steady inter-communication? The same holds true for religious life:. a moderate observance is a precious boon to it. On the other hand, observance for its own sake is obnoxious. It is bound to incite a harmful restlessness, to sap energy, paralyze effort, or invite either pharisaical regu-larity or intentional neglect. Vatican II was rather in-sistent that this point of observance be looked into and brought up to date. The decree carefully notes that a high-spirited and level-headed apostolate will itself nurture rather than ruin the love for God and neighbor. The question is, how will it nurture this love? First of all, by putting to rest that old fear of an apostolate, genuine and sincere, somehow detracting from the love of God. The council will go down in history, particularly for its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, in seeing signs of the times which hold promise of much good for the human community. While speaking of the religious apostolate, it remarks about this same good as the field for religious to harvest. The religious apos-tolate, therefore, will nurture love in two ways: first by peace, secondly by stimulus. Peace will accrue from it because the religious will learn that his effort and fatigue are the sincere and au-thentic expression of his love for God. There is much comfort in knowing, deep down in his heart, that he is doing the will of God in the apostolic task assigned to him and for which his charism suits him. Obedience to an assignment with all the hardship and suffering it entails, is a participation in the obedience of Christ. Christ felt real contentment in the fulfillment of His duty toward His Father. "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me, and to complete his work." 86 At the same time the apostolic religious will be stim-ulated to love more, for the apostolate will impress him with need for fidelity to prayer and to a rule of life. He will recognize at once that any lack of zeal on his part amounts to a lack of love, zeal being the fruit of love. Insufficient love springs from an insufficient union with God. Christ turned to prayer in the midst of a busy apostolate and denied Himself sleep in order to pray often and for long spells. Such prayer instilled in His heart a greater love for souls, greater patience, and more courage. This has been an endeavor to weave together the complementary aspects of the signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates especially as they pertain to religious ~ Jn 4:34. institutes. Religious institutes too, inasmuch as they have a charismatic role in the Church and society, have to examine the signs of the times locally and periodically in order to see what apostolates are open~to them and whether they have the charisms most suited to contem-porary needs. All three--signs of the times, charisms, and apostolates--mesh into a single program of life and work under the guidance o[ the Holy Spirit and in the light o[ faith and charity. Signs, Charisrns, Apostolates VOLUME 27, 1968 KEVIN F. O'SHEA, C.Ss.R. The "Security Void" + ÷ Kevin F. O'Shea, C.Ss.P., writes from St. Mary's Monas-tery; Wendouree; Ballarat, Victoria; Australia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Two years ago Dan Herr wrote in The Critic of a "piety void": the deep loss felt by many people since older "devotions" have been downgraded and have lost their force, and the new "liturgy" is not yet meaning-fully established. The "piety void" is only one aspect of the "security void": a deep unhappiness experienced by many, since older "securities" have been challenged and nothing seems to have replaced them. This diagnosis contends that two basic types of security are in conflict: a security of absolute norms, and a security of committed love. It analyses them only in the area of external au-thority and obedience (though it might well take in areas of moral conscience, faith and doctrine, and voca-tional role and ideal). Each of the two "approaches" to security to be out-lined here could claim (and has claimed) roots in St. Thomas. It is necessary to distinguish between theory, translation of theory into experience, translation of experience into inspirational-motif, translation ol in-spirational- moti[ into formula, translation o[ [ormula into a workable living pattern. Any fully developed "ap-proach" to a profoundly human value (like security) includes all five: theory, experience, inspirational-motif, formula, and workable living pattern. Of the two ap-proaches to security to be developed here, the first (the "older") can be considered initially as "fully developed" in this sense; the second ("the modern") cannot. Both could agree at root in the theory of St. Thomas; each then develops a different experience and inspirational-motif; the "older" possesses its clear formulas and work-able living patterns, which are now challenged by the "modern"; the "modern" is not yet equipped with these elements, and for that reason is deprecated by the "older." Here lies the problem of analysis: here lies finally the root of the "security void" itself. A security of absolute norms is the fruit of a rational-ized approach to society. Accepting the common aim and the need for organized action to attain it, the members of a society accept also a human authority that will give it firmness, sureness, stability, and "security" in the I'face of conflicting human attitudes within it. When a superior, in whom such authority is vested, make~ an authoritative precept, it becomes normative for the society; only in obedience to that norm can that society continue with security. Security is conceived as unified and efficiently ordered action; it stems from "managerial authority." When the subjects obey, they conform their practical thought and action to the authoritative precept given them, out of respect for authority and out of love for the well-ordered existence of the society and its "security." Their obedience is intelligent, even rational: it is logical for them to obey, given their commitment to such values. When in fact their theoretical assessment of a situation differs from the dictate of authority, they will then sacrifice the advantage they believe they might bring to the common interest, to the greater good of the unchallenged reign of authority and for the noble end it serves, the societyrs "security." This is no infantile submission to the "will" of a master: it is the manly conformity of those who see greater value in their sacrifice than in their independent achievement. Their con-science is honored; and they have the personal, ful-fillment of being rightly ordered to the values they cherish, rather than the less esteemed fulfillment of mastery through their own pattern of action. At .times, recourse might duly be had to higher authority; but always in the interests of greater security for the com-mon interest. This is the theory; it has been lived in a way that subtly turns authority into something more absolute. It is assumed in'practice that the order ~1: the society to its common aim, its security, and its continued existence, depend on absolute obedience to its authority at all times. Despite the theory (which would allow for the balance of one human law with another, and with natural and divine law, andfor the use of epikeia as a x;irtue and not simply as a legal loophole), visible division from authority in any matter commanded is considered a supreme, scandal and an absolute evil. We suspect here a practical transition from general policies (the principle of respect for authority) to particu-lar details (the absoluteness of this dictate, in which the whole meaning of authority is seen to be at stake); we sus.pe~t a practical equation of what is authorized for the society with what is objectively good (and best) for the society--of the practical .and the theoretical advantages of the society; we suspect even that authority is almost conceived as the end of the society itself. In this way the basic theory has been hardened through experience towards a stress on absolute loyalty to authority at all VOLUME 27, 1768 785 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS costs, as the~ esprit de corps and inspirational-motif of society. The formulas of the basic theory are read in this sense, and the workable living patterns enshrine it. In practice, then, it is in the "absolute norms" of authority that man finds his security in society. For an "older" generation such unchallenged security alone was possible. This same approach underlies even a mystical view of the Church as the Body of Christ growing to its fullness under the guidance of the Spirit. It is through the charisms that the Spirit rules the Church; and to some He gives the charism of discerning the direction that might be taken with profit; to others He gives the charism of expressing .this conviction publicly; while to the apostolic hierarchy alone He gives the charism of placing God's definitive seal of approval on any plan. It . is through the hierarchy alone that salvation history can finally and authoritatively be formed: the word of the hierarchy is the word of the Lord. When a member of the Church obeys the hierarchy, he acts out of deep reverence for their office and for the divine plan of history in the Church. He thinks it is better for Christ to be revered in His bishops than for Christ to be helped by independent action but dishonored by an apparent. schism between His members. He gives up .what he hitherto thought to be the desire of the Spirit, for the word of the hierarchy, which He authentically knows to be the desire of the Spirit. This is the theory, and it is not hard to see how it has absolutized the practice of obedience in the church. An episcopal command has been regarded as a divinely absolute norm in which alone the Church can continue to live and grow in Christ. The apostolic placer is the will of God and is the security of the Church. It is the absolute norm for a Christian who wants to live in the Church and follow God's plan. We suspect here the root of the attitude of simple acceptance in many of the faithful who look on all pronouncements of ecclesiastical authority as though they were of the same univocal value; we suspect here a certain voluntarism by which God's ideal plan for man in the Church is identified with God's here and now (permissive?) will expressed through the hierarchy. A mystique of security in the Church stems from this lived attitude. A personal approach to community today suggests another kind of security--the "security of committed love." It begins with the axiom that man is a living and loving person. He is called to give himself to others in generosity, sacrifice, and service. In this "self-spending" he really "becomes" a person. There is in man, then, a native instinct (blunted by sin but given new point by grace) to yield, in love, to others whom he serves. It could be called "obedience," but it is not what is strictly and technically described as social obedience. It is prior to the existence or recognition of any social au-thority; it is an intrinsic function of love. It goes far beyond the demands of organization; it is directed to persons not to abstract values. Man then has to live his life in situations in which he experiences in his conscience the call to such love and serf-giving to others. In this call he hears the voice o[ love itself, which is God. In it he recognises the eter-nal law of absolute Love. He needs these situations if he is going to meet this Love and experience its challenge; they channel it to him as "mediations" of Love. He also needs these situations if he is going to respond to this Love and live up to its demands; they are the ambient, the milieu in which he can grow in it. Such human situations, which are. not of man's mak-ing, are in no way opposed to man's love. His love acts, not against them, but within them. As human, his love needs them. The basic situation thus needed is the situation of "personal community." We do not refer, to a community of traditions and practices, or to a community of meth~ ods and pooled skills, but to a community of persons who strive to live together in a. truly personal and serf-giving way. They are a "people" together, a true "comm.unity," blending together their instinctive desire for love and self-giving. Within such a community, the call to Love is heard and answered; the community is the "mediation" and the "milieu" of the eternal law of Love. Love can find itself only within such a community; it is an intrinsically demanded "structure" of love, a permanent, developed, and basic situation of human love. Considerably more is meant here, of course, than what is usually read into the concept of a society, effi-ciently organized to achieve a common aim. In com-munity, persons experience a sense of belon~,tng, of. "being together," of loving together. The integration_ of person with person, of personal attitude and ideal with personal attitude and ideal, as they yield to one another and serve one another and together serve others, is the basic horizon needed for all human life. In this sense, community "serves" man. Within such a community, there is need for celebra-tioh; such real love and togetherness need to be sym-bohzed and feted. Within such a community, there is also need for leadership; such love needs to be given open and significant expression within the community Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 Kevin O'Shea~ REVIEW FOR RELI~IOUS 788 and radiated outward to those who do not yet know it. Such celebrations and leading-actions are the high-points of community life. Without them, the community does not live, symbolically, in the hearts of the persons who form it, and does not supply them with action-situa-tions for ever deeper personal love. The community needs such events, and therefore it needs within it an oOice responsible for assuring their presence. Those who bear this office are rightly considered to have special eminence in the community, and to them the open-ness of all members of the community is especially directed. Those who bear this office are in a real sense the pivots and sttpports of the community-structure which serves personal love. The acceptance, the reverence, and the "obedience" they are given is fundamental to the commitment of community love and transcends the limits of merely social obedience. At the same time, the office we describe is not strictly social authority but something prior to it. If in fact in a given community there is also social authority (and thus also social obedience), they/viii be fully integrated, on their lower level, into these primary values. Authority must spring spontaneously from the community-office of celebration and leadership; obedience must spring spon-taneously from integration into community, availability to the action of the community, and reverent acceptance of those who hold office in the community. It is clear that when in fact such true social obedience is called for, it will possess a unique a~ective tone. It wi!l be an obedience within community love. It will simply pinpoint the readiness to yield which is there in the community prior to any legal precept. It is more a privilege than a duty. There are two major differences between this and the pattern of obedience previously described in the "older" approach. First, it claims the right to integrate the external com-mand into the claims of Love as heeded in conscience and lived in the community. The subject to whom the external authority speaks "hears" the dictate externally and then asks himself what it "means,' to him in his community-conscience, as a moral imperative of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that every external command will always automatically mean such a demand of Love. He does not assume, absolutely and universally, that always and in every ~case personal sacrifice must be made to the higher role of this authority. He will not grant, beforehand, that' authority is the main thing in a given situation but will assess the claims of authority in relation to the claims Of community love itself. He will'make this assessment as a person, in open-ness with the persons who form his community and hold office and authority in it. He will grant that normally and in many cases authority-claim (legal imperative) will mean community-claim and love-claim (moral imperative): but he will not a priori equate the two. He will grant that he must make his decision in this matter in deep responsibility of conscience, but he will think that such responsibility is part of his duty in a community of this kind. This first point is claiming more than the simple state-ment that a true imperative (legal and therefore moral) can objectively be in point but may or may not be grasped subjectively by a given person in invincible ignorance because of environmental circumstances. It is an expres-sion o[ an attitude to obedience that springs from the inspiration of the community-love theme. In theory it may not be saying more than is said in classic positions concerning epikeia and the balance of laws and incon-veniences, but it is said in the spirit of an experience different from the experience that has concretely inter-preted and presented the classic positions. Whatever our final judgment of it, a new point of view is expressed here. Secondly, by way of balance, in this obedience there is always a willingness to go beyond legal demands and to go beyond the hard and fast line of what is obligatory by authority. It does not like to stop at what must be done; it looks for what can be done. The final criterion of action is not what legal authority says (or does not say); it is what the situation really demands of the conscience of those involved. The external authority and its statement are respected as part of the total situa-tion in which the imperative of conscience is seen and in which it must act, but it is recognized that the total situation may at times and even often require more than the external authority has stated. Such obedience must be recognized as magnanimous: it acts, not in con-straint, but in love. Once again, it is an expression of attitude that is in point here, flowing from the basic inspiration of the meaning of community. In theory, it is saying no more than the classic position says of the primacy of charity over social obedience, the unity of all the virtues in love, and the rights of personal conscience. But it is expressed in a new enthusiasm arising from a new ex-perience. It is a different point of view from the "old." In the concrete the obedience morally recognized by the person in a given situation will be a determination of the tension between the first and second point: be-tween the right of personal integration into his respon-sible community love, and the duty of personal tran-÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 789 ÷ ÷ Kevin O '.SShs.eRa.~ REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 scendence of the limits of an external command. If this resolution were consistently in the direction of ignoring the external command, it would not be authentic to its own inspiration; for it would not be recognizing the genuinely "normative" character of authority in the community.It is not the "norm" that is refused; it is the assumption that the norm is "absolute." When this obedience is given, it is not lacking in the formal motiva-tion of social obedience, for it does yield to authority as such, but within a community context. The real ques-tion is: When this obedience is not given (in the usual form of conformity to the external command), is it objectively defective in the essential moral value of obedience? But the question is not one of theory, as we have repeatedly shown; it is one of interpretation of the "formula" used as a guideline, as a workable living pattern. It is less a question of what is externally done (or not done) on a particular occasion; it is more a ques-tion of what is the psychology behind it and how it could stand with, and not destroy, the genuine psychol-ogy of social obedience. For a person who forms his mind on these personalist lines cannot have a psychological security of absolute norms. He must find a new type of security elsewhere: in the absoluteness of his commitment to Love and to self-giving and to community in the sincerity of his own conscience; in the relative service that he finds for this in the structures of community, with its members, and their offices, and their common acdon. His is the security of committed love and appreciated structures. The "absoluteness" here is genuine but new: it includes the impredictability of human love, and the incalculable progress of providence. This same personalist approach underlies a sense of the Church as the "people" of God, impelled by the Holy Spirit of Love. The Church is a divinely created, supernaturally indefectible home-situation of truly per-sonal love and sacrifice. It is through and in the Church as a community that the voice of eternal Love in Christ comes to the conscience of her members. It is through and in the Church as a community that her members respond to this voice and live their self-gift to others and to Love itself. Ttie Church is being rediscovered as a community; the Constitution on the Church of Vatican II places its chapter on the "people of God" prior to its discussion of the place of the hierarchy within the people of God. The community of the Church is the natural horizon of our love as it is divinized in Christ; the Church in this sense is indeed the pillar and the very "ground" of Love. In this sense she serves the mystery of human love by creating the conditions for it to. be real. In the Church, the hierarchy, vested with the office of liturgical celebration and of missionary ex-pansion of the Church's mystery of love, and vested also with true social authority to rule the people of God, be-comes the pivot and the support of this "ground" of love. This is why the members of the Church, .as they carry each other's burdens and so fulfill the law of love, look on the Church with reverence as their "mother," even when they see her humble limitations. It is not initially a sense of duty and of obedience that binds them to the Church and to the hierhrchy; it is a sense of vocation and of belonging, since they are meant for her and cannot truly love outside of her. "Outside of m~, you can do nothing." This is why the same nuance of obedience enters here within the Church as we noticed on the gen-eral level: the entire problematic of authority-obedience itself serves the deeper problematic of community-love. At pre~ent there is a conflict, within and without the Church, between those who maintain a long established modus vivendi based on and leading to security of ab-solute norms, and those who demand the creation of a new modus vivendi based on and leading to security of committed love. It is certain that the "older" pattern is well established. It is only recently that it has been challenged; and the challenge has been resented, with shock, by the "older" generation. They have experienced a unique insecurity on seeing the very principles of their security openly questioned, on finding the present age disenchanted with the absoluteness of the old ways and seemingly submerged in the pure relativism of love. They have been asked, implicitly at least, to approve patterns of action in others that are completely at variance with their own inner orientation to norm-security and even to accommodate their own mentality and pattern of action to them. They cannot believe that their own generous sacrifice and 'heroic loyalty over a lifetime have been unnecessary and that their conscious foundation of security is chimerical. They tend to harden the "essential" theory of authority-obedience- security, in the language they have always known it, into the one and only workable living pattern they have known and to admit no other. They feel now that the essential props of their security are under attack. It is certain too that the "new" pattern is noble in its inspiration. Because it is noble and even more because it is new, it tends to remain as yet in the order of ideals and even of inspirational "slogans" (for example, "personal fulfillment," the need for "dialogue") and has not yet formed for itself a realistic working pattern. Its ÷ ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 791 + + Kevi~t O'Shea, C.Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS idealism is tender to attack and resents the fact that others cannot understand it but reject it and even regard it as harmful. The "new" generation cannot believe that they ought honestly regard their ideals as unreal and settle for the pseudo-satisfaction of security through absolute norms and legal authority. They tend to stiffen their allegiance to their principles and to be insecure precisely because they know they are not yet accepted or put into practice at community level. It is Strange that precisely here the "new" generation may be rather unfaithful to its own principles. Instead of placing their real security in committed love and self-giving, they seem to insist---immediately---on the security of acceptance in the "older" community; they want their values upheld and identified as legitimate and valid, they want to be understood by others and not thought rebels, they want to be integrated, as they are, into their community's way of life and tradition which they feel that they do not violate but practice in a new way. Would that they have all this; but is it primary to their own principles? At all events, a certain paralysis is taking hold of protagonists of both points of view, which is deepening their insecurity. It happens especially where there has been little attempt at renewal of commonity living structures; where a tradition of legalistic obedience has set up a quasi-divine right of the establishment; where a system of bureaucracy or a veil of anonymity or a pro-tection of prestige has been used to give firmness to the status quo without facing the issues; where a policy of "via media" or of "prudence" is used merely to cover a refusal to do anything; where there is a visible split into parties "for" and "against" the new idealism; where in such mental alienation of one group from another, action comes mainly from party politics, dominant personalities, or emotional enthusiasms created by prop-aganda; where unkind name-slinging is used to make real dialogue and acceptance impossible. Here a critical impasse is soon reached; only the external signs of true community remain. Even those who try to remain tran-quil are misjudged; they are thought insincere in the face of a common anxiety. Men go through the motions of what they have always done, or would wish to do, without the fulfillment that ought to come from it. They live in a "security void." It is made acute when they refuse the obvious dilemma of the situation: rebel or accept. The malaise can be cured by neither; neither by open irreverence, public agitation, mental alienation from the whole situation, refusal to cooperate, invocation of one's rights (from legal authority or from conscience), retreat into one's , I work; nor by timidly coveting up and finding a false refuge in permission (of authority or of conscience), or by the cowardice of giving away all serious attempt at idealism (of whatever form) and settling for no security at all. Those who rightly refuse these false avenues know that they have no anchorage left; they are nonplused and beaten. There is a "credibility gap" between themselves and any founded security, a wavering of trust in asking completely serious questions at all. In this fundamental disillusionment they cease to live in the presence of a liberating truth (since they refuse the falsehood of double truth, one of idealism and another of reality). Their life becomes shallow and superficial, and. their work is not reliable. This is the "security void." This study is a diagnosis, not a solution. It can con, dude with a simple suggestion of seven thoughts, to .be pondered in the present crisis. (1) The theory behind the "new" personalist position is m reality no different from the theory behind the "older" essentialist position. On the general level, it is simply expressing the primacy of the person over society and the primacy of charity over the social virtues. On the particular level, the cases where it might admit a refusal of conformity to the authoritative dictate of a superior can well be reduced to cases already well known in traditional moral theology: epikeia, balance of laws, inconveniences, rights of conscience, and so forth. It is true that the expression given to these cases is new; it is emotive and enthusiastic and thereby tending to more difformity than has been allowed in the older working pattern. But this does not prove the theory is incorrect; it proves only that it is ambiguous in its expression as reduced to a working pattern. It is therefore on the level of that working pattern, in practice, that any incor-rectness should be removed. At least, there is room for real "dialogue" in a theoretical agreement on founda-tions. (2) The spirit of the personalist position, as it is typi-cally expressed at present, does not appear to allow suffi-ciently for the role of social authority within a personal communityi and this defect comes from its idealism. Let us grant thi~ idealism absolutely, but let us remember that we are asking it of men who live in a sin,situation and who carry within themselves profound inclinations contrary to gene.rous and sacrificial self-giving in love. The first evidence of these inclinations is the tendency for groups to isolate within a community and to consider the expressions of love that-correspond to their .own idealism without due consideration of the interests and peculiar form of love of other groups. On the very prin-ciples of total lov~ within the total personal community, .!- ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUME 27, 1968 793 + ÷ ÷ Kevin O'Shea, .Ss.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS granting the intrinsic weakness of man, there must be some human authority to determine the forms of authen-tic love for all when need arises; and this authority must be conceded a per se place in the community. The typ-ical personalist expositions at present stress the idealism of what man is called to do somewhat at the expense of the necessary regime for its human realization, a vital part of which is authority. It is possible to rethink the meaning of authority as an inner demand of the personal community. In this way, the tendency to conceive an opposition between the expressions of a responsible authority and the inherent claims 9f love and conscience will weaken; at least, a better balance between the two will be achieved in practice, and in due time the formnlas and the working patterns will be rightly adjusted. (3) But if sin has abounded, grace has abounded even more. In assessing the present situation, we may reason-ably judge that mankind is on the threshold of a sig-nificant evolution in its living experience o[ community and of the meaning of personal love. We must not poison the wells of this inspiration. We must therefore admit, in theory and in practice, that the older static unchal-lenged working pattern of community must also evolve to be more in accord with the new inspiration. Any at-tempt to pin one's security finally in the unchanged positions of old is doomed to failure. To back down before the challenge of the present in the name of the weakness of human nature, which needs a lower stand-ard, is a practical denial of the triumph of grace. (4) This evolution in the living of community-love must of its nature be slow: "i(ll great matters must come to ripening slowly" (Congar). Those who live through the present transition and cause it must have a peculiar patience: a deep-rooted existential conviction that history is slowly changing through the measured pace of their lifetime. To the extent that their love and self-giving is really great, it will have the patience of the times, seconding and not subverting the dynamism by which God is bringing His gracious design to com-pletion in His own manner. It is perhaps in this fidelity to what is perceived as the bvolving character of provi-dence, that a genuine security can be found. Paradox-ically, it is~ patience that engenders hope, and not the reverse! (5) If social authority can and must be given a place de se in the personal community, it can and must also be found a special place de facto in the currently evolving form of personal community. Our original frailty is showing itself in a new facet: our inability to assure the tranquil passage from the older order to the new, evi-denced in the intransigence of some and the impetuosity of others, and the imprudence of all. There is need of a new awareness of humility if we are to engage correctly this exciting and dangerous transition of history. And there is need for,,social authority to recognize a new responsibility: that of assisting, with its own power of juridic firmness, the pattern of change and of progress from one order to the other. In the exercise of this office, social authority will slowly commend itself more truly to the humility our times must learn. (6) St. Thomas once described .the effects of human law as disciplina et pax. No doubt, he envisaged these mightly mysteries in the static culture of his day; but they remain valid, and needed, in the day of dynamic evolution of human living forms that is ours. Our current emergence to greater times must not be turbulent but tranquil; and the tranquility we need we must learn. We can only learn it if all those who make up the human community at present, "old" as well as "new," play their proper roles together. An "o]-der" point of view is neces-sary today to show the new inspiration, which it accepts at root, the realistic way to find its own survival. A "new" point of view is the soul of the upsurge, and its cry is for a love and a self-gift to all; it is necessary that it learn the peace of the future by establishing its own peace in the present, by accepting "togetherness" with those who do not yet appreciate its value and teaching them by deeds what it has not succeeded in communi-cating to them in words. The most unusual trait of the "new order" of love is that it can be created by real love in ariy conditions; it does not depend on special structures or circumstances but relies on its own dyna-mism. If it is to have more desirable conditi6ns in .the future, it must learn to give its own peace to those of the present. (7) Finally, those involved in this development, which means all of us, should be big enough to overlook mis-takes in detail for the greatness of the cause. We must become conscious of who we are in our times and in history; we must live with a sense of our call to the greatness of love together. In this sense, we must know not a "security void" but a "security fulfillment." + ÷ ÷ Security Void VOLUNE.27, 1968 PAUL MOLINARI, S.]. Renewal of Religious Life according to the Founder's Spirit Paul Molinari, s.J., writes from Borgo Santo Spirito, 5; Rome 00100, Italy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 In presenting these few thoughts, I should like to clarify some theological points which have not, I believe, been sutticiently understood when we speak of a return to the origins of each religious institute. The conciliar decree Perfectae caritatis insists on a life of union with Christ, leading us to consider Him not only as the exemplar of the life of a religious but as the very form of this life.I think that this aspect has not been sufficiently stressed, because the wealth of mean-ing of certain rich but very concise expressions of the decree has not been adequately understood. The decree deliberately avoids detail in order not to bind religious life to concrete forms, identical for all, which would pre-vent it from developing freely in Christ. Rather, it sought above all to emphasize that we must make an ef-fort to conceive and live our religious life as one of donation to Christ, in which we must share His way of livin~g, His spirit. Hence the insistence on a supernatural principle. W~ must always keep in mind that the mis-sion of the Church is a continuation of the mission of Christ and that the mission of Christ is specifically su-pernatural. We must realize, therefore, that in order to participate in the mission of Christ, in order to continue it, we must of necessity adopt His criteria. It is pre-cisely a question of a gift of life--the Word made flesh in or,der to give supernatural life, divine life, to man. Participation in the life of Christ is what gives vitality to the Church. Participation in the redeeming sacrifice is what gives life to man. It is the sacrifice of Christ giving His life for the Church that ought to lead re-ligious to give their life for the Church, that is, for the supernatural good of all of the People of God, for a more abundant communication of divine life to the entire fam-ily of man. I insist on this point precisely because today there is, at times, a tendency to stress almost exclusively the necessity of adapting the exterior apostolate and of bringing it into line with the possibilities offered by modern technological society or to concentrate almost exclusively on the social apostolate of the Church. We must not forget, however, that Christ's apostolate is not only, nor even principally, a social apostolate but a supernatural apostolate: the communication of divine life. This presupposes that we can and often ought to see to the material needs of man and interest ourselves in serious and pressing questions of social justice, but our apostolate does not stop there. We must above all consider the supernatural value of religious life as such, the value of this self-donation which, even though it may remain unperceived, attains something very precious for others on a supernatural level precisely because it is a donation, a sacrifice of self, In this context, I would like to point out that we tend too easily to overestimate the criterion of exterior effi-cacy and of visible success. Is it not true that, when Christ died on the cross, the efficacy of this sacrifice of His entire life could not be seen? It is important to emphasize this at a time when the profound value of self-donation is being called into question precisely be-cause so little is said about the guiding principle of the Lord in His apostolate. Moved by the Spirit, He spent Himself, He delivered Himself on the cross. That is the force of the Spirit. We find ourselves here in the realm of faith. In the light of faith we begin to understand the value of a life hidden in Christ, of a life of im-molation, a life of love, a life which gives up its life for others--and nothing is more beautiful than to lay down our life for others. The ultimate solution to the crisis in contemporary religious life can be found in the realization of religious life as a life of self-donation. Not that religious life should lead merely to the interior life. On the contrary, it will lead us to a great activity; it must express itself exteriorly but in such a way that it is supernatural in character. It is along these lines that we can find a solution to today's problems, particularly those concerning the social apostolate. At this point, I quote those beautiful phrases contained in the decree Per[ectae caritatis: Fired by the love which the Holy Spirit pours out in their hearts, they live their lives ever increasingly for Christ and for his Body which is the Church. Consequently, the more fervent their union with Christ through this giving of themselves, which includes the whole of their lives, the richer the life of ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder"s Spirit VOLUME 27, 1968 797 REVIEW FOR RELIG~OU5 798 the Church becomes and the more fruitful her apostolate (n. 1). The gospel brings out that the characteristic note of Christ's mission was His docility to the Holy Spirit. I think that this is why the decree insists so much~ on the Holy Spirit, His action in the Church and in the soul of founders. If Christ, the head of the Church, began His mission led by the Spirit, the Incarnation itself being the work of the Spirit, the Church, which is the Mysti-cal Body of Christ, likewise ought to be docile to the Spirit. The Church, as such, tries to be so, and she has the permanent assistance of the Holy Spirit, her soul: Christ, having been lifted up from the earth, is drawing all men to himself. Rising from the dead, he sent his life-giving Spirit upon his disciples and through this Spirit has established his body, the Church, as the universal sacrament of salvation. Sitting at the right hand of the Father, he is continually .active in the world, leading men to the Church and through her joining them more closely to himself and making them par-takers of his glorious life by nourishing them with his own body and blood. Therefore, the promised restoration which we are awaiting has already begun in Christ, is carried forward in the mission of the Holy Spirit, and through him continues in the Church (Lumen gentium n. 48). In virtue of the same principle, each member of the Church should likewise follow the motions of the life-giving Spirit. We are touching here on one of the most fundamental principles of the religious life and of the Church. As the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis says, the Holy Spirit has raised up in the Church men and women who founded religious families. These souls were called to a providential mission in the Church and were particularly docile to the action of the Holy Spirit: Indeed from the very beginning of the Church men and women have set about following Christ with greater freedom and imitating him more closely through the practice of the evangelical counsels, each in his own way leading a life dedi-cated to God. Many of them, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, lived as hermits or founded religiou~families, which the Church gladly welcomed and approved by her authority. So it is that in accordance with the Divine Plan a wonderful variety of religious communities has grown up which has made it easier for the Church not only to be e~u!pped for every good work and ready for the work of the mlnxstry--the build-ing up of the Body of Christ--but also to appear adorned with the various gifts of her children like a spouse adorned for her husband and for the manifold Wisdom of God to be revealed through her (Perfectae caritatis, n. I). The Spirit who led Christ is the same Spirit who leads those who are united to Christ and in whom, as with docile instruments, He can more freely carry on the salvific mission of communicating divine life to His Church and to all mankind. With these theological principles in mind, it is easier to understand that while the. cardinal point of renewal is the Gospel and total, unconditional surrender and consecration to the redeem-ing Christ, another is precisely the docility and fidelity of members of a religious institute to the spirit of their founder. Actually, the mission of Christ is not yet completed; it continues in the Church which must remain faithful to His inspiration. This is why charismatic graces, that is divine inspirations given in view of certain apostolic necessities, continue to be given to the Church. These graces are evident in a special way in all those who have truly given their heart to the Lord and who, without setting any conditions or limits, allow themselves to be guided by God, that is to say the saints and those great charismatic leaders, the founders and foundresses of re-ligious families. But while this action of the Holy Spirit is particularly visible in the soul of founders, it does not stop with them. The same Spirit, wishing to continue the mission that He has entrusted to the founders ~for the sake of the Church, acts in the soul of each member of the People of God and calls some of them to follow our Lord and dedicate their lives to the institutes established by these holy men and women. It is as i£ the Holy Spirit sent a ray of light which filled the soul of: the founder. This ray continues on, through the founder, until it reaches the soul of those who are called to a certain religious family. It is a ray of light which has its own particular characteristics and limitations. It is thus that institutes receive a specific mission from the Holy Spirit. For this reason there is a variety of institutes in the Church, which are all necessary. And the Holy Spirit inspires and continues to inspire the members of all religious families but in different ways, according to their specific task in the Church. It is in this sense that St. Paul, while dealing with the Mystical Body, speaks of the di-versity of functions within the Church; and there is no doubt that this variety is very good for the Church. It is extremely important, therefore, that religious know what the authentic spirit of their founder or foundress is and that they share it consciously. This is what the Council intended when it invited religious, especially in view of the renewal of their life, to discover anew the riches of this spirit and to find life-giving in-spiration in it. For that reason, the motu proprio Ec-clesiae sanctae says it is essential for each religious family to study the sources and to go down to the real roots of their institute. It is, therefore, indispensable in 4- VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ Paul Molinari~ $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8OO the preparation for special chapters charged with putting into practice the Council's teachings and directives, to engage in serious and searching study concerning the charism of the founder or foundress and to discover new depths concerning the authentic inspiration which gave birth to any given institute. It is obvious that in many cases a good number of studies have already been made on this precise point, and these studies can and ought to be judiciously used. It would be an error, nevertheless, to limit such research to an analysis of these studies, because each generation has its own sensitivity, its own special g~ace for discovering certain accents, and is struck by elements which previous generations prob-ably knew of but did not make use of with the same de-gree of explicit understanding. What happens in biblical exegesis and in the authentic evolution of dogma and theology is likewise true of the progressive understanding of what the Holy Spirit wished to start with founders and continues, through their mediation, throughout the ages in the institutes which He raised up in the Church. Precisely because we are dealing here with an interven-tion of God Himself in the history of the Church and of an initiative that He wishes to prolong and renew, not only today but also in the future, it is imperative that this search for the true spirit of a founder or foundress be done with complete objectivity. In no way is it permis-sible to base such a study on feelings or on interpreta-tions and intuitions which are more or less subjective. Reverence for the work of God in the soul of the founder as well as reverence for the divine vocation by which we were called to become a member of our religious in-stitutes requires that we remain humbly open to God's light. In no way should we try to make the divine grace given to the founder coincide violently or arbitrarily with our limited personal ideas. On the contrary, the action of the Holy Spirit in the soul of the founder ought to be our point of reference ]n examining our own way of thinking and acting. Much is being said today about the discernment of spirits. But this is exactly what the Church has been concerned with in regard to founders. We have the as-surance that they were acting under a charismatic im-pulse. We, in turn, participate in this same impulse to the degree that we are faithful to the grace which called us to our religious family, and that we let it de-velop and grow in us. It must be noted in this context that while the Church invites us to recognize loyally the spirit of our origins, she does not at all exclude the possibility that this spirit may find different expressions throughout the .ages. There is a tendency, at times, to identify the spirit of the founders with their works. But the spirit gave life to a work; it determined its beginning. It can happen that, as time passes, a work, begun with an intention largely determined by the needs and circumstances of the age and place in which the founder lived, has changed. In present day conditions, it may no longer b~ possible to continue these same works or, due to exterior circum-stances, to carry them on in the same way as when they were begun. Fidelity to the letter can thus become in-fidelity to the spirit of the founder. In other words, it is not sufficient simply to make an historical catalog of our works. We must try to see them, spiritually and integ-rally,~ from the inside, in order to seize the inspiration which animated the founder when he acted. It is only if we succeed in grasping this profound inspiration that we shall find, at the same time, that true fidelity to the founder which the Church is asking usa to preserve in deciding what adaptations are to be made. If the spirit of the founder is a living reality to us, we shall likewise be able to formulate it adequately in modern language, fully in accord with the contemporary situation. To be truly faithful, we must go to the very heart of the mat-ter, that is, go to the very root of the reasons why the founder acted and discover the ultimate criteria of the choices he made. We must not be content with discover-ing what the founder did; we have to discover why, whether we have grasped the inner inspiration. While reflecting so openly and clearly on this essen-tial principle, I want to make a brief point dictated by charity, justice, wisdom. It is well known that on the occasion of special chapters in all religious institutes, there is an atmosphere of unrest among truly generous religious who are loyal both to the Church and to their institute. This uneasiness is ultimately caused by an in-adequate understanding of the principles which have just been stated. On the one hand, there are religious who do not understand clearly enough that the concrete expression of the identical spirit of the founder c/m, and even ought to change according to the circumstances and mentality of succeeding generations. Every innovation, consequently, seems' to them to be a departure from the authentic spirit of the founder and, as such;' inadmissi-ble. On the other hand, there are also religious who, with a certain naivet~ which is no less serious, proclaim loudly that only the present generation has discovered the true spirit of the founder and that former genera-tions did not understand it at all. The mutual error of these two tendencies is simply that they both think that one, and only one, generation can discover once and for all what the authentic spirit of the founder is, exhaust the wealth of its possibilities, and determine defi'nitively 4, 4, Fou~w~$ ,Sp~r~g " VOLUME 27, 1968 4" 4" 4" Paul Molinari, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O2 all possible authentic expressions of this spirit. But, as we have already said, such a conception errs by not taking into account human limitations and historical sense. Each generation of religious has its own strong points and its own deficiencies, it own profound intui-tions as well as its own task. It is precisely along these lines, with the greatest reverence and objectivity, that each generation of rel.igious should look towards the authentic origins of their institute and delve into the heritage of its founder's authentic inspiration. In this process of humble and reverent seeking, which is at the same time both painful and liberating, each generation should make the charism of the founder and the in-stitute their own. Each generation, through prayer, med-itation, and study, should seek to find out, according to the spirit of the founder, what ought to be kept or abandoned in the present day. As can be seen, this work is both very necessary and very delicate, requiring hum-ble and utter abnegation. But if we understand that the true patrimony of the Church and the task of renewal are at stake, we shall not be afraid to renounce personal points of view or preferences in order to go wherever the Holy Spirit may lead us. Experience teaches us, moreover, that such a return to the authentic origins of an institute is not only possible but also extraordinarily fruitful. There is immediately a very keen and positive reaction when anyone speaks with competence to religious men and women about the documents left by their founder or about his life. I am sure that we have all already experienced this. Can it be explained in any other way except by the fact that men-tion was made of something that the Holy Spirit had already put in the heart of these religious? If they are put into direct contact with the sources of their institute, they explicitly find in them what they were formerly more or less conscious of and which had led them to one particular religious family and not another. The Spirit of God gives a certain sort of interior spiritual sensitivity and a spontaneous inclination towards the spirit of the founder and its authentic manifestations. If religious are brought into direct contact with the spirit of the founder, they are moved to ever greater generosity and immediately pass to a higher plane. Many people can thus be helped to overcome their difficulties, precisely because the very root of their life has been touched. It goes without saying, moreover, that this life-giving con-tact with the authentic inspiration of the founder greatly facilitates responsible adaptation to conditions and cir-cumstances of time and place. This is obviously the reason why the conciliar decree Per[ectae caritatis de- clares that any adaptation ought to come forth as a pre-cious fruit of interior renewal, that is of a return to the gospel and to the authentic spirit Of. the founder. Let us now say a word about the concrete manner of proceeding in this extremely delicate and important matter. Experience seems to bear out the following: Af-ter the religious have been informed of work done on the sources and after they have been invited to meditate on the different aspects of renewal and even to give their opinions in writing, it is a good practice to gather to-gether those who have showed special interest in the subject, especially those who likewise have a good scien-tific preparation. Ask them to study the documents and everything that has been done previously in the way of research and analysis in order to bring to light the outstanding elements, that is, those which recur con-stantly in the thought of the founder. The outcome will not all be the same because each one has his own per-sonality and way of looking at things; but by comparing the results, a sufficiently objective view will be obtained which will permit the characteristic elements of the life and thought of the founder to be isolated. These in turn will help orient the work of renewal. When it is time to rewrite the constitutions, they can be based on the discoveries made, without fear of changing or modi-fying illegitimately the thought of the founder which these objective studies will have brought out more clearly. The next step is to compare these results with the life, constitutions, and works of today. This will be rela-tively easy if the fundamental points have already been clarified. The various editions of the constitutions, pro-mulgated at different stages in the history of the in-stitute, should be examined to see what elements have been forgotten or not sufficiently emphasized. This type of research can contribute notably to a greater direct knowledge of the sources and will bring to light again the true thought of the founder. If this research is car-ried on according to these objective criteria and is al-ways inspired by theologically and spiritually sound principles, a naive desire of change for the sake of change will be avoided. On the contrary, if changes are necessary or opportune, they will be made without great interior difficulty because all will see more clearly what Gods wants of us and how. He is asking us to mani-fest our fidelity to the authentic spirit of the founder. It is equally obvious that, in the same way, we can more easily avoid those distressing internal divisions among members of the same institute since all will have the conviction that the changes proposed are based on a ÷ ÷ ÷ Founder's Spirit VOLUME 27 19e,8 80,~ , 4. .4. Paul Molinari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8O4 common desire to correspond fully to what is under-stood to be the true spirit which gave rise to the in-stitute and its authentic charism. In the same way,-it will likewise be easier to decide What changes must be made in the exterior life and even in the works of the institute. We say that it will be easier, because when it comes to works, there are naturally other problems which are generally very seri-ous and which cannot be naively ignored. But I am con-vinced that if, first of all, everyone is in agreement on the essential lines of renewal according to the spirit of the founder, courage will more easily be found when all are working together in the solidarity of a chapter. If, for example, the members of a chapter 'clearly see that today certain works no longer correspond to what the founder wanted in his day, it should be easier /or the chapter to take clear and decided decisions, without causing profound dissensions, without sidestepping the solution and without leaving all the most serious deci-sions to the sole authority of the superior general and. his council. Would it not be better for the chapter, which truly represents the institute, to take essential decisions, basing them on a greater knowledge of the spirit and charism of the founder and his work, and thus tracing the way for times to come? In answer to Christ's call, religious left all things to ,follow Him, that is, to go with Christ wherever He wishes to go. It seems evident that Christ wishes to go where the needs are the most urgent. One of the things that we would do well to consider when we speak of union with Christ in the religious life is that it is not simply a question of going out to the poor but of leaving all things, and following Christ in a spirit of donation and complete availability. This can sometimes mean leaving well established works that are running well but which, having reached the point where they do run well, no longer need us. In such cases, led by the spirit of the founder, we should go where social condi-tions are more or less similar to those that prompted the founder to act in his day. It is then that we have truly vital contact with the authentic spirit of the founder. In a certain sense, it can be said that where this spirit adaptatioh is' found, religious live in closer union with the spirit of the founder. Indeed, when, as it were, the very soul of the founder has been refound, there is no crisis in religious life and vocations are not lacking. It is clear that those souls who have followed their founder .most closely have found, under the motion of the Holy Spirit, what they were seeking. Naturally, it would be absurd to maintain that all present-day works of religious should be abandoned or that all need to be adapted or again that all changes should be made instantly. We must, however, have the courage to face these questions honestly and to solve them with the same courage that characterized the action of founders, the courage of the saints. It is worthwhile meditating, in this light, on the fol-lowing words of His Eminence, Cardinal Agagianian, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith: Evolution has considerably modified the physiognomy of Christianity and the sign value of this type of Institution. Where formerly there were charitable works to answer press-ing social needs there is now state socialization or the national-ization of an entire sector. If this has not been done yet, it is at least the intention of young governments and is being planned by large official international organizations. Are not our institutions, which were begun with such generosity and which answered such authentic social needs, now anachronistic, technically .surpassed, not viable financially, lacking true Christian witness value since other official organisms which are better equipped have taken charge of this sector? We must therefore avoid duplication, useless waste, unequal competi-tion, and rethink our activity, which must be missionary to the greatest possibl~, degree and carried on in the light of an apostolic vision which is more freshly evangelical. It is a ques-tion of discovering the true exigencies of the hour, of estab-lishing priorities, and of effectuating our own "reconversion" by turning to work which is doubtlessly socially less spectacula~ but which is more specifically a work of the Church, a work which is directly missionary in scope and character. At the present time, religious must be very open to the grace of the Spirit in order to follow Christ effectively and continue His mission. We should all clearly un-derstand that the charismatic grace given to the founder and his institute is a call from God, a talent which has been confided to us. God asks that the talents He gives be well used. We must not be afraid to make them fructify. Such a fear should never paralyze our generosity and our donation to Christ. It is therefore not enough, necessarily, to keep works just as they are. They must be made to bear the greatest amount of fruit possible. How can this be done? That is where the difficulty lies. It is certainly not permissible simply to keep the capital. If the apostolic return amounts only to 2% or 3%, we must ask ourselves if this capital could not be used in a better way. If we consider the exigencies of the Lord, we can more calmly envisage the fact that the decisions to be taken will sometimes lead to very serious changes, but we must accept them in a spirit of love and fidelity to the true charism of the founder and his work. But we must consider more specifically and more ex-plicitly the ecclesial dimension of our personal vocation as well as the vocation of our institute. The institute is part of the Church and it has a specific function within ÷ ÷ ÷ the Church. It is a living part of the Church and it will have life insofar as it accepts its function for the sake of the Church. This will help us to penetrate more and more into our vocation of being available for the service of Christ and His Church. We will experience the joy of giving life, the consciousness of being the grain of wheat which falls to the ground and dies, and to bear fruit a hundredfold. Problems will find their solution in this deeper vision of religious life as a life of union with Christ in order to continue, in Him and with Him, His mission of communicating divine life to man. 4, ÷ Paul Molinad~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 80fi SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S New Trends in Community Living Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have watched and touched with our hands: the Word who is life-- this is our subject. That life was made visible; we saw it and we are giving our testimony, telling you of the eternal life which was with the Father and has been made visible to us; we are telling you so that you too may be in union with us, as we are in union with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. --1 John 1: I-3 In* these opening lines of John's First Epistle, he is trying to translate into a multiplicity of feeble human concepts and words, Life itself which is not many but one, not a thing but a person--the triune Person of the Godhead. When discussing the "new trends in commu-nity living" with you, I shall attempt to follow the exam-ple of John. Words are a very necessary component of human communication, but nevertheless annoying. As soon as we describe a reality we break it into parts and tend to give the impression that if every part described is present, we have the reality itself. Rather, the reality of community that I hope to translate into practical and concrete terms, is not composite but one--permeated with the dynamism of that divine incarnated union John spoke of. Unfortunately, that dynamism cannot be put into Words; it must be lived and experienced. Therefore, the approach in this paper will be experi- * This is the text of an address given in May, 1968, to a meeting of Canadian major superiors. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., writes from 62 Hargrave St.; Winnipeg 1, Mani-toba; Canada. VOLUME 27, 1968 80~ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Denis~ $.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 808 ential and practical and not a rephrasing of the excellent literature on community with which you are familiar. First, we shall examine the bases or principles upon which community is created, investigate the trends evi-dent in community living today, attempt to describe the type of community life that is unfolding from these trends, and propose some practical ways of effecting the transition from the present structures of community life to that form toward which we are evolving. Rather than burden you with another definition of community, I would prefer a descriptive approach. We are well aware of the different kinds of communities that exist among men. There is the natural community of the family and the artificial or contrived community of the organization, society, or state. All too often, we have described the religious com-munity solely in terms of one ot~ these two societies: our terminology of mother, father, brother, sister, reflects the familial concept; and our highly structured religious corporations betray the organizational concept. Al-though religious community can benefit from aspects of these two basic human groupings, we must with deep faith live the essence of religious community as an en- Spirited or Spirit-filled community: "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" (Jn 17:21). To the individual person who has embraced the re-ligious life, what then is community? I enter community so that I may begin to gift myself to others, to give the life I have to another, and to re-ceive from them in the same way; and this transmitting, this sharing of life, of wholeness is carried over into my apostolate. This life is given and received in faith be-cause the life or dynamism of community that permeates it is not my own--it is the life of the Spirit, the Spirit of Christ who shows us the Father; my gift to God-~a gift which has come from Him in the first pIace--is to give life to others by the life that is in me. True community, therefore, is created, not structured or legislated. PRINCIPLES The principles or bases upon which an en-Spirited community is created must be grasped, not only intel-lectually, but also experientially by every member in the community, although not necessarily to the same extent or depth. None of these principles stand alone; rather they are interdependent and interrelated. Trinitarian The ultimate model of en-Spirited community is the trinitarian life as it is lived by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We have heard this so often that we tend to dis-miss it as another cliche. What does it mean in actual practice? It means that each person in community must be and do what God Himself through Christ and in the Spirit is and does: namely, He gathers, unites, establishes communion. How? By communication. Supportive words, other means of communicating love give life to another, as the Father begets His Son, the Word. This gift to one another and the response from one another engenders love--the Spirit. It is at this point where Trinity and en-Spirited community merge. ~lgape. If this trinitarian love-life is incarnated and experi-enced, the cohesive bond in community is the living agape of Christ, not the force of rule or custom. We must have the courage to examine and question the place of rule in religious life. In actual fact, which has frequently taken precedence---our holy rule or the gospel? The experience of agape is an entirely new human ex-perience. It is this gift of God--the Spirit. Pagans could only look at the early Christian community and exclaim: "See how these Christians love one another." But the words "love" or "charity" are, at best, a weak transla-tion. Agape is the knowledge and love of God--that very dynamism of the Trinity itself--which, through a free gift of God, has been incarnated, embodied in human community--a Spirit-filled community. Peace and joy, in which are contained all the other fruits of the Spirit, characterize such a religious community. The ultimate expression of agape is the love feast itself--the Eucharist. The en-Spirited or agape community is effected by the liturgy--when members are conscious of communicating or uniting themselves together in Christ. In turn, their liturgical expression is intensified by their community life. Incarnational Spirituality In order that community reflect trinitarian life or agape--which are different expressions of the same real-ity- the spirituality upon which it is based must be truly incarnational. Again we are back to the importance of faith. If the Son of God, the Word, became flesh, be-came incarnate, then the world, the whole world is "shot through with the grandeur of God," as Hopkins wrote. We cannot arbitrarily determine which particular ma-terial signs signify the presence of Christ; this is an in-sidious form of idolatry. Worse still, we cannot attempt first to establish a relationship with the transcendent God and then go out to other people. Because of the Incarnation, the transcendent God has been revealed to + ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 809, ÷ ÷ Sisger M. Denis, $.0.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 us precisely as immanent. This immanence is continued in the world through the gift of the Spirit. The experi-ence of agape, the witness of a Spirit-filled community, is the experiential embodiment of this transcendence. In community agape we realize the fullness of the In-carnation. Respect for the Integrity of the Individual Person Community is not achieved through uniformity; but in practice our preoccupation with uniformity often militates against that respect for tl~e integrity of the individual person so necessary for the developme.nt of an en-Spirited community. This respect involves accept-ance first of ourselves as we are--not as we would like to be. We must risk taking off our masks, not only to others, but also to ourselves, and be truly authentic. I never realized what a mask the traditional habit could be until a few summers ago at the Superior's Conference in Portland, Oregon. During the day we walked around very conscious of religious decorum and dignity. When the magic hour of 2:00 p.m. struck, we converged on the swimming pool. As each layer of clothing came off, the person emerged. This respect [or the integrity of the person involves acceptance ot another in the same way---as they are and not as we would like them to be. If we love only those who share our ideas, our thoughts and aspirations, then we are merely loving an extension of ourselves. We must love what is truly the other--in which there is nothing of oneself. This acceptance is a respect based not on toleration or on charity or even because we see Christ in another; rather this respect is based on the unique dignity created in that person by God Him-self. Often we bypass this unique dignity for "good and noble reasons." Our acceptance and love should always be based on the person, not dependent on their actions. This is a great danger in community life, where we do 'not have the natural ties of blood as in the family and where much stress is placed on uniformity. Community, as we have been describing it, is not necessarily the common life. This communal acceptance involves a sharing, an openness with one another dictated not on my terms but by the other person's real needs for growth. In listening to the conversation of some religious I get the impression that self-fulfillment is selfishness, not selflessness. We only"receive when we give. And very often giving hurts. Serf-fulfillment is the very mystery of the death-resurrection of Christ incarnated and re-peated in the lives of men and women. Originality, Creativity The external structures of the en-Spirited community --structures which may take many and varied forms according to times and places--should always leave room for the development of originality and creativity among its members. I am merely stating in concrete terms the theological problem of institution versus charism. Spontaneous .4 ction Closely related to the need for originality and crea-tivity is the need for spontaneous action in community. A few years ago I read an examination of conscience in which was the question: "Have I organized myself so intensely that I have no time for spontaneous generos-ity?" We might well ask the question on the com-munal level. Is our day so laid out, charges so spelled out, that members function as automatons--cheerfully perhaps, but not spontaneously? Responsibility Finally, true community fosters responsibility, the ability to respond. Men and women can come to good-ness only through a knowing and free choice. The other side of the coin is a sharing in the authority on which responsibility depends; and this authority, in turn, is derived, from the community. Members are responsible to one another personally and to the group collectively. The religious or Spirit-filled community, therefore, is based on the agape-life of the Trinity as incarnated among men. Its growth and development depends upon the respect for the integrity of the individual person with the necessary correlatives of personal authenticity and acceptance. Desirable structures permit and foster originality, creativity, responsibility, and spontaneous action both individually and collectively. CURRENT TRENDS With these principles in mind we shall now attempt to describe the current trends among religious in Can-ada, trends which will affect community living. These trends were gleaned from the recent reports of the eight round-table discussion teams which were organized across Canada by the Canadian Religious Congress to contribute to a survey of religious life. In this era of post-Vatican II, we are coutinually reminded to be alert to the signs of the times, to significant indications or movements in a parti.cular direction. Whether the trend be evaluated as good or bad, as desirable or un-desirable, it remains, nevertheless, the voice of the Spirit speaking to us. Discernment of the message is not as easy as discernment of the trend. 4. ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 811 Sister M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,4 ttitudes Very evident is the evolution of new and more posi-tive attitudes among religious. In relation to the in-stitution, there is a greater respect for the person and the charisms of the individual. Religious place a priority of being over seeming, of the person over the actions. The false dichotomy between body and soul is diminished. A new appreciation for the "world" which has lost many of its former negative connotations is evidenced in an understanding of eschatology as be-ginning here below in the form of earthly happiness. Therefore, there is less stress on the'negative aspect of sacrifice and a grea~er emphasis on a joyful, more positive asceticism. Resurrection, not death is predomi-nant. There is a tendency to diminish the artificial distinction between the natural and the supernatural. Thus, the religious sees his or her dedication to Christ and to mankind as one. This unifying trend involves a rejection of the logical distinction between the transcend.- ent God and the immanent God, where the existential is concerned. Spirituality The incarnational spirituality that has evolved from these attitudes integrates human values and identifies "human experience" and the "experience of God." God is encountered .at work in the world present in and through human realities. Throughout the entire study there was evidence of a strong trend toward assuming a more personal responsi-bility for one's life of faith involving a renewed self-commitment. Thins desire for personal responsibility and the previously mentioned attitudes have strongly in-fluenced the trends in the prayer life of Canadian re, ligious today. In the search for new and authentic forms of prayer, none of the traditional forms have escaped honest scrutiny. Although religious believe in the necessity of prayer, the form or expression of this prayer is radically changing, primarily due to a new understanding of prayer in which there is no separation between prayer and action. Looking upon everything as prayer, especially encounter with others, was a very pronounced trend. Therefore, religious desire more freedom in their prayer life--with a structural minimum that gives more consideration to personal needs, that encourages authenticity, and that is adapted to the rhythm suited to the life each one is leading. The daily obligation for Mass is. questioned because of the need for' respecting the personal spiritual rhythm of the religious. In the celebration of the Eucharist, the re- ligious insist less on the idea of sacrifice and more on the notions of communion and gathering. There is an increased trend toward community encounter in the Eucharist within the parish community. Because of their strong faith in the value of interpersonal relationships and group accomplishment, the trends indicate the de-sire of religious for group reflection in prayer. Prayer is no longer a private matter but is becoming a means fulfilling the need for an expression of friendship and human support. The place of God in prayer is not thereby lessened, because of the identity of "human experience" and "the experience of God." The starting point of prayer--personal or communal --is likewise incarnational--an event, something con-nected with themselves, the needs of the world as re-vealed in continuing salvation history--more than the speculative knowledge of a transcendent God. Institution Religious from coast to coast are questioning--not theoretically but existentially--the meaning and purpose of religious life itself. The reports indicate, however, that this scrutiny is not negative, but positive--in spite of the front page articles in the NCR. Structures are not disregarded but desired if they help real personal commitment. Community of life, however, takes prece-dence over institution which is understood as something to help community of life, to make and keep its mem-bers more fully human persons. The institution is re-jected under certain aspects because of unfortunate ex-periences resulting from harshness, impersonalism, legal-ism, and paternalism. Rule Regarding the rule, the trend is toward getting away from the traditional rule because it no longer measures up to the needs of the time. Also evident is a lack of regard for unnecessary canonical legislation. Religious women, in particular, are resentful of the paternalism manifested toward them by the Sacred Congregation of Religious and in canon law. External Signs Also strong is the trend to reject archaic signs of identification as religious. These externals, such as the habit, the canonical cloister, the rule, community con-trols, are seen as objectionable to the extent that they separate the religious from the secular world. These religious wish to remove the barriers imposed by monastic influences of another age. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Living VOLUME 27, 1968 813 Silence Closely connected to their notions on spirituality, prayer, and religious structures are the views of religious on silence. They admit the value of silence but not according to traditional concepts. Personal silence is valuable as a means to encountering the other; it is closely related to charity. Rather than an absence of words, silence is an inner attitude. Thus, they refuse to keep a conformist silence or silence of rule considered for its own sake. Size oI Community Especially strong are the desire and the realization of riving in small homogeneous groups because of the need for human interpersonal relationships, for authenticity, for the development of the person. In this way, religious desire to bear effective witness both to poverty and to service. Thus there is a trend toward experimen-tation in this more fraternal way of life: some are living in smaller groups; others are living in apartments. Secular World Today's religious desire to socialize more naturally wid~ other people. In fact, there is evidence of a trend toward seeking fraternity outside the usual religious community group. On the one hand, some see this trend as a reaction against an incorrectly understood type of ¯ community life; on the other hand, some see this as an overflow of the love that is established in true com-munity. Whatever be the case, we must attempt to read the signs of the times; if a person does not find accept-ance and human fellowship within the community, he will seek it elsewhere. Increased activity in the secular world is practically a fait accompli for most religious who are now reading contemporary books, going to movies, taking part in politics, and maintaining contact with the world of art and artists. 4- 4- 4- Sister M. Denis~ S.0.5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS .4 uthority Religious admit that they will readily sh~re personal experiences with their fellow religious but less willingly with one who is in authority--a spiritual director or a superior. The authority figure in practice is not yet seen as a friend. Strongly rejecting paternalism, religious do not wish to be dependent upon a superior. Authority itself is not rejected; religious still see the necessity of someone in charge of the group. But this person--the superior--should be an available and approachable moderator--one among brothers. Authority is seen as service and coresponsibility. There is a trend, but not yet clearly defined, toward a concept of shared authority with joint responsibility in view of the good of the group. Because of the dignit
Issue 30.4 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOUS; ~12 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis ~. ~.,'ersity, the editorial oflfices being located . ';12 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard. Saint Louis, Missour 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~ 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Published for Review fi,r Religious at Mr. Roval & (;uilford Ave., Bahimore. Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore. Maryland and at additional mailin~ offices. Single c~pies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW eort REL1OIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW IgOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. - Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REvmw ~OR RELIGIOtJS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 4 SISTER MARIE BRINKMAN, S.C.L. Toward a Theology of Women's Religious A theology of any aspect of the Christian life by its nature evolves. Perhaps the greatest difficulty of living in an age of transition in the Church is to feel the process and not the fruits of theological evolution. That seems to be where we are in what has long been called--and lately "unlabeled" by Brother Gabriel Moranl--religious life. Whatever such a theology has been for the past, it is no longer adequate if we are to judge by current efforts to enunciate a theology of celibacy for the present, or fu-ture. If it is fair to generalize, we might call that of the past a "theology of negation." In the sense used here, the term means an understanding and practice of the vows o~ religion which emphasized mortification or restraint of human inclinations and desires, in order to realize an ideal of universal charity dedicated to service, sharing of goods in community, and snbmission to the will of God. The end was wholly positive: to follow Jesus Christ in establishing His kingdom on earth. The ground of the theology was the gospel. But complex factors resulted in emphasis on the self: self-denial, self-perfection, and a profound privacy in living united with God. Such em-phasis wa~ natural and necessary when the life of celibacy for the kingdom struck its roots in a primitive Christian-ity inimical to its pagan surroundings. Flight from the world to the desert--literally or simply in spirit--was a dramatic and effective model for following Christ. If Augustine's experience and temperament brought liim to it in struggle, others sought it by inclination. It ~See his article in National Catholic Reporter, December 18, 1970. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Marie is a faculty member of ¯ St. Mary College; Xavier, Ks. 66098. VOLUME 30, 1971 4" 4" 4" Sister Marie ¯ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 564 would be some time, furthermore, before the asceticism of the desert and Augustinian theology, influenced by Paul, would be modified by Benedict's rule of modera-tion. Even then, throughout the Middle Ages, as the monastery came to grips with the world, the need for strict asceticisnl gTew. If its roots in the gospel became manifest in the joy of Francis's mendicant poverty, the joy was no less the fruit of renunciation. Yet within the Poverello's .lifetime, that reach of the spirit that says "yes" to all creation proved too difficult an integra'tion for many. Extremes and strife divided his followers. But if negativism and individualism were always abuses of celibate life, spiritual freedom and individnal-ity were its frnit in every age. The passion of universal charity, of profound friendship, and of intimacy with Jesus Christ is the part of the mystery that Benedict, Francis, and John of the Cross knew to its depths. So too conntless others. A positive theology then is nothing new--except in an interpretation and practice appropriate to contempo-rary experience and language. The question is not the validity of renunciation under vows, which by Christ's promise brings the hundredfold of communal life, but the meaning of that recompense. If emphasis in the past has been on limitation and self-denial for the sake of the spirit, it is growing into a desire for celebration of the spirit. If, in the past, a certain privatism of spirituality paralleled external community life, today personal and communal relationships are becoming ways to God in a different manner. Far from a secularistic or humanistic approach to reli-gious commitment, the question may involve a more de-manding and mature way of living in simplicity and obe-dience to the Spirit than did older forms of communal living. It may call for a fuller renunciation in the very experience of personal commnnion and communal rela-tionships. The point is that, primarily, the question is one of community. Here is no suggestion that the historical phenomenon of individual persons freely coming together to live in celibacy and service, and publicly declaring their inten-tion to the Christian community, is pass~ in the life of the Chnrch. That personalism, freedoin of life style, and sharing can become fetishes of a new kind of communal life is an evident risk. That the life may broaden to include celibate anti married persons in the same commu-nity is an evident possibility. But the risk of any communal life is loss of solitude sufficient to sustain it, and sharing that becomes expo-sure. Put another way, the nltimate risk is absence, rather than presence, of God to lnan in his heart. Then the presence of fellowmen becomes an absolute necessity-- and a new flight to the desert follows. Paul's analogy of marriage and the Church can be a foundation stone for a new enunciation of an old theol-ogy of celibate communal life. The analogy has less to do with the submission of woman to man and a concept of virginity as superior to marriage than with the comple-mentary values of marriage and celibacy. The Church is imaged in neither one nor the other, but in both. This is so because the analogy to the Chnrch lies not only in the sexual union of man and wife, fruitful in the family, but in the union between mature persons in friendship. Without this highest valne--which is Christ's own word for man's union with him--marriage is imper-fect, and celibacy is not fully hnman. It may be that for most people the ration of Cltrist and tl~e individual per-son is fully realized only within a spiritual union of free, eqnal persons. Marriage wants this; celibacy shoukl nur-ture it. Further, in Augustine's doctrine of uni~m with God, it is not the negative and ascetical aspects of the spiritual life that are significant so much as his emphasis on pres-ence, the inner Light that is God dwelling in man. That presence between persons is a reality analogous to, even conducive to growth in presence with God was not a strange idea to Augustine. He knew it fully in relation to his mother, if to no one else. In the twelfth century, Kichard of St. Victor, by way of Augnstine's doctrine of exemplarism, the "necessary rea-son," explained from the experience of human love the communion of Persons in the Trinity. Ewert Cousins, in a recent issue of Thought,'-" perceptively analyzes Ri-chard's treatise as a contribution of medieval theology to contemporary philosophy and psychology. Examining the dynamics of interpersonal love in the faith-transformed tradition of the Christian community, Richard sees that charity demands that a person love to the fullness of his capacity: "To enter into a partial rela-tionship with another person, without depth or intensity, is to fail to realize the possibilities of human love." And in realizing such capacity "one mounts into the life of God . The human person ~nost imitates his divine Exemplar--and is therefore most a person--when he transcends himself in a union of love for another per-son." :~ The author then explores a deeper level of Richard's theology of love, as a growth from charity to the happi-ness of loll communication to the generosity of sharing -""A Theology of Interpersonal Relations," Thougt, t, Spring 1970, pp. 56-82. :~ Ibid., pp. 71 and 65. 4- 4- + Women's Ret~g~ous VOLUME 30, 1971 + ÷ + Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 566 this ~nutual love. In explaining the exemplary reason for the Trinity of Divine Persons, the medieval theologian speaks of three aspects of charity: self-transcending union, individuality of persons, and their creativity. In this third and perfect stage of charity, it is fruitful in a third per-son: ua the Trinity, the Spirit; in the union of hnsband and wife, the child; and in friendship, community with yet another. But a theologian, contemporary now rather than to his own time, offers a doctrine of analogy even richer in implications, perhaps, for present thought about the spir-itual life. It may well be that Ricbard's and his own thinking coincide. John Henry Newman, especially in his writings about the act of knowledge, the life of faith, and the development of doctrine, dealt with man's relation-ship to God in a way that foreshadowed the insigl~ts of philosophers and psychologists of human relationships for a century to come. Althongh he speaks in the traditional language of Catholic doctrine about revealed mysteries, he is con-stantly describing and reflecting on experience, and re-fuses to leave mystery or doctrine on any abstract plane. The act of conscience, observed in the earliest life of reason, becomes for him a consciousness of AnotlYer and a response that demands fidelity. When this moral princi-ple becomes a growing knowledge of Person, faith be-comes experiential. That it becomes an experience to be shared is the explanation for Newman's writing about it. As be knew faith, it was the fulfillment of reason. It was a profoundly human experience of a divine gift, so fitting to the mind, rigorot, sly exercised, as to seem na-tural. This experience, as the ground of a concept of anal-ogy, is so far from being simply intellectual that it be-comes an act of relationship, a response to presence that is the very analogue of friendship. Analogy here means no mere parallel between knowl-edge and belief, between human and divine relationship; neither did the exemplar, or "necessary reason," for Au-gustine or Richard. It means an interaction, a comple-ment. Levels and quality of experience remain distinct even while illnminating and enlarging one another. But the implications cannot receive fair treatment outside the context of Newman's full reflections and development of ideas. They are the ground for asking some serious ques-tions about communal life nnder vows, as it develops today. If the most serious of these tend to converge, it is per-haps toward an nltimate qnestion: Is there something absolute that constitutes religious life as a necessary fac-tor in the life of the Church, and if so what is it? Answers wonld not be slow in coming: the vows, corn- munity, celibate consecration to Jesus Christ, service to the people of God according to the Gospel . or others. Then, because any one of these, in relation to the others, can evoke a fair argument for its primary value for reli-gious life, the question remains, what is there in com-munal living, or an act of dddication, or apostolic witness that demands patterns of living in obedience, poverty, and chastity? For not only the patterns but their princi-ples are in question. The thesis here is that an experienced relationship to God in Jesus Christ, known througla a like relationship to one's companions, is the absolute factor without which religious life wonld not exist. The theological, psycholog-ical, and strnctnral dimensions of the relationship are not different approaches to the question, but aspects of a single phenomenon of celibate consecrated life--here considered as it may be for a woman. Companions, in tbe traditional context of religious life, are tile members of one's immediate religious family and include all the members of the community. In the whole view, however, they are not defined by either of these groups, for at one time in the history of the Church, celibate women witnessed to the kingdom within the sin-gle Christian community, without need for a gronp set apart, and it is conceivable that the condition conld pre-vail again. Then the Christian commnnity itself would be so renewed that its communal witness would be all that the Church would require and individual celibate men and women would minister within it, but in more varied ways demanded by the needs of a Church in a secularized society. A married clergy within the ranks of the diocesan priesthood might be prophetic of such celibate life in the Church, which ah'eady exists along with religious com-munities. Celibates, priests, and laity would then make one whole community. The relationship in question is that which tlows from the life of the Trinity to man in God's acts of Father-hood, or creation and providence; of Sonsbip, or revela-tion in redemption; and of Spirit, or indwelling to make whole, integTal, or holy. All this is a matter of initial, continning belief for the Christian who, gradually by God's graciousness, comes to know experientially what it means to be created, forgiven, and loved. Fm'tber, the quality of that experiential knowledge of faith is undefin-able and dilferent for each believer. The point here is that it takes on a special aspect for one who responds to the call to live by the evangelical counsels. Then the relationship to God entails a complete dedication, or giving over, of oneself to Jesns Christ for ÷ + + Women's Religious LiIe VOLUME 30, 1971 567 Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 568 the sake of extending His kingdom on earth. The de-mand on a person may be simply that of God's will, a desire to live in a religious community, gratitude for what God has given and the need to share it, or any other form the call may take; bnt it is answered with the knowledge that it means service, nndetermined by oneself and in a condition of personal poverty. The service and its necessary conditions, as well as the connnunity in which it is given, are secondary to the ultimate motivation which comes from the realization that God is one's Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifying Life, and that He wishes to be so to others who do not . know Him. The initial undertaking of a vowed life for such reasons is like the commitment of a young woman to a man whom she knows and loves for his goodness and wishes to marry; as yet she has no real knowledge of what he is like in his whole self and in the power of his relation to her. That can only come in their day-to-day mntual giving and growth in conjugal love. The consent and gift of the marriage vows arc an act of faith that fuller realization of each other will bring to maturity. If the love grows in the depth that the sacrament signi-fies, and when it includes the full dimension of friend-ship, the realization must come in the most intimate and generous hnman relationship possible to man. This then is not model for, but parallel to the realization and inti-macy that the religious woman should achieve in relation to Jesus Christ: parallel in th:~t a conamitment either to marriage or to religious life depends upon an extension, in concrete experinaental terms, of the faith and hope and love in which a believing person lives with God--but frequently at a less profound depth of experience than he knows in a human relationship. In fact, it is almost easier for a yonng woman to believe in the creative power for her of the man she loves than in the highly personal creative providence of God for her. She may experience his forgi~reness in a more immedi-ately healing way than she knows the mercy of Christ; and her sense of oneness with him grows more strong than her awareness of God's dwelling in her. When reali-zation of her relationship to God eqnals in intensity of experience her relationship with her husband, she will live to the full the sacrament of marriage and be herself a channel of God's action. But the same difficulty in realizing a personal relation to God that integrates ;ill hunaan relationship can attend the spiritual growth of a religions. It is not so ranch a matter of which must take precedence as it is a constant projection of one to the other for the sake of understand-ing, and realizing God through knowing and loving man. Whatever the actual level of experience in relationship a person knows in marriage or religious life, the two are parallel, .or complementary, in the Church as a sign of God's relation to man in a human commnnity. One is as necessary to the Cburcb as the otber. But in tbe parallel lies their difference. Marriage isa formal sacrament, be-cause the family community is fundamental to buman natnre and stands in need of special grace beyond that of the individual Christian life; because families propagate the Christian community of believers; and because the union of man and wife signify the union of Christ and his Church. Furtber, marriage lind the family witness to the mysteries of Incarnation and Redemption as they renew man in time. The religious community, on the other hand, bad its beginning later in bistory when a special witness within the Christian community was needed. The witness con-sists in colnmunity, as does that of the family, bnt not in any particular form--monastic, mendicant, apostolic, or contemplative. The form may even be the Christian com-munity as a whole, with certain members living in celi-bate witness and service. The essential note of religious life is the witness of a relationship to Jesus Christ unique in the Church, dependent upon the absolute surrender of oneself to God for the sake of the kingdom. II The religious consecration and the common life that ordinarily flows from it are sacramental by their nature, a sign of the escbatological mystery of the fulfillment of the kingdom, that is, the full realization of God's creative, redemptive, and nnitive action upon an individual man and the whole human community. Religious life itself is the temporal sacrament of the Church as it will be be-yond time when all realities signified will be revealed. But just as nothing of the God-man relationship is an abstraction of doctrine or theology when realized in expe-rience, so this connection between the individual and the human community under God's action is a living reality to be experienced, if it is true. If the nature of its truth could be realized by the individual, living either in the natural family or the religious group, then much of the conflict between the personal and the communal, be-tween the natural and the supernatural would disappear. To say its trutb lies in living out the doctrine of the Mystical Body and in realizing the community of the people of God is not to perceive how this is accomplisbed psychologically. To say it is the work of grace is not to explain what grace is, in the interaction of God's and man's freedom. And the words of Cbrist that "what you do to the least of tbese you do to me" are a truth that, like all trntbs of such dimension, is in danger of becom-÷ + ÷ Women's Religious VOLUME .30, 1971 569 4" Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ing axiomatic. Perhaps his other words, "This is my Body, which shall be given for you," bear upon these truths in such a way as to make clear what the experience of the relationship of the believer, and more particularly of the religious, to Jesus Christ can be. The full dimension and significance of the Incarnation is latent in these words of consecration. The mystery of God's taking on a created body, in order to be present to us fully in suffering our human condition, becomes here the mystery of Christ's signifying His creative and re-demptive presence in us in the form of food. Because He Himself is the food, we become one in eating it together --a unity of personal communion with Him and inter-communion with one another, a community hidden and yet to be realized in human personal communion. As with Him, this grows and expresses itself in the aware-ness of another's presence, in a growing knowledge of another's reality, in merciful acceptance of one's own and another's sinfulness, and in free creative unifying love. If these are effects of our communicating Jesus Christ, they are to be the effects of our communicating with one another. They are what man in his nature needs and constantly seeks in a fellowman; they are what only God can supply fully. But it may well be that God does not ordinarily work these effects in man except through his communion with those associated with him in a human community. When marriage becomes what it is meant to be for a man and a woman, their interrelationships are God-like in their effects, are, in fact, the very way in which God comes to and acts upon them. Ideally, as a couple mature in marriage, husband and wife increasingly liberate the creative power of the other, in the public ways of making and governing a home, of rearing a family. But the im-measurable factors of personal liberation of the spirit that determine the growth and interaction of personality between a man and a woman are the real cause of the family's unity. When a woman is fully recognized for what she is_and can become, is even brought to be what she could not be alone; when time after time she receives forgiveness for what she has done and compassion for what she is from one who knows her; when imperceptibly she comes to freedom and peace in union with one who loves her, then all of her creative powers are awakened to be exercised primarily upon her children, within her home, and beyond it. If she believes and contemplates this action of God upon her spirit through her relation to her husband, her faith in God's providence, her hope in His mercy, and her love for Jesus Christ become one with and realized in the bonds that unite her with husband and children in their community. The same needs of the spirit are fulfilled .or frustrated in the human community of those wbo have consecrated themselves by vow to Jesus Christ. But just as a husband can be neither substitute for a relation to God nor an "instrument" of salvation for a woman, so relation to Christ, for a celibate woman, is in no way a substitute for or even a sublimation of what a husband might be to her; nor is her religious community a substitute for a family. The relation to Christ is the ultimate human fulfillment in either familial or religious community; the human relations are not image of or psychological substi-tute for but the very substance and realization of the personal relation to God, in Jesus Christ. They are, or should be, fulfillment of Christ's words, "This is my Body." It is such relationship---of creative freedom, of healing mercy, and of unifying love--in a strong consciousness that this is what shonld be happening between them that can bind together the members of a ~eligious community. What they are to one another, in varying degrees of knowledge, affection, and effectiveness, God is to each of them. Their awareness of and action toward one another is in their presence to and action toward God. The two relationships ideally tend to be one. If relations with fellow religious in community reveal and make concrete the relation with God, the latter, as it is realized, purifies and strengthens the former. For to live deeply in faith and bope and charity is to know that relation to God constitutes one's being and qualifies all existence. The knowledge is not merely of the mind bnt the whole person, in the Biblical sense, and conditions all other relationships, afflicted with self-inter-est as they ~nay be. Realizing this, religions can under-stand what it means to find Christ in another, or to be Christ to another, because He has said and makes it come abont that "This--person and human community--is my Body." Yet he only does so within the limits of our psy-chological capacity and free choice to make such human commnnion a reality. That is why it is important for a young woman enter-ing upon religious life to understand that it is meant to fulfill bet as a woman quite as fully and selflessly as conjugal love and motherhood fulfill a married woman. Celibacy is a condition of life that means relationship as intense as that of marriage but more extensive, for its purpose or end is different. The sacramental community of marriage propagates and nurtures, within the family, the kingdom of God, while the sacramental commnnity of celibate men or women witnesses and ministers to the ÷ ÷ ÷ Women's R~tigious Li]e VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ + Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 572 kingdom in its universal extension. But to accomplish this end the celibate woman must realize her capacities as does the married woman, and for both the fulfillment must come through commtmion with other human beings. To be what God intends her to be to man, any woman must exercise fully her power of creative love. If the woman dedicated to Christ were to be denied this, God would not be just. She undoubtedly denies herself the joy, the comfort, the strength of marital union; but she in no way denies herself womanhood. In her, then, passion must become whole, purified, and fruitful in her total surrender to Jesus Christ and in the human loves such dedication implies--love of such single-heartedness that it demands of her the devotion and selflessness that a husband and children require. And this love in her, too, is a receptivity to the strength and life that another can give in friendship. For in the life-begetting love that is the spirit of a woman, nothing can be lost or repressed. The reality of her sex, the psychology of her love, ;~re not lessened or transcended, but snbsulned in the comprehensive, effec-tive tenderness and devotion she is free to offer others. This increased and extended womanly power is the meaning of virginity. It is a power of love that does not fear, for the power is from and fruitful in God. It manifests itself, further, in ways that make celibate COllllnuual life, among equals and tinder authority, more difficult for a woman than is tile natural communal life of the family~that is, in certain ways. By natnre, a woman is receptive in human relationship, rather than aggressive; open to receive all another has to.give and desirous of giving in turn where she can be received. For a wife and mother, these qualities fulfill her when family life is normal. For a religious, when this openness and freedom are inhibited for any reason--lack of genuine comnumication or loss of self-confidence--she suffers iso-lation and can hardly relate even to one other. So com-nlunity is lost. It happens not infi'eqnently, for even while we know that we cannot live except in response to one another, we do not in any human community readily live in full responsibility for one another. That costs, and the price is oneself. To be responsible for another is to invite his pain to oneself and to accept the terms of his love, which can appear not as love but as self-defense or even aver-sion. It is to respect one another's freedom and integrity with something of the respect in which God holds us, knowing us wholly. Awareness that God's action comes in all the ways we react to one another can be traumatic and hard to accept, but can deepen faith not only in God but in the other person as well; then growth in grace is the same reality as growth in a human bond. When this identification of God's action with the action of one's sisters extends itseff in very ~nany relations in a religious community, its bonds are born at once of grace and human needs, ful-fillment, and suffering. This is the degree to which nature and grace, personal and communal fulfillment are one. Granted, it is for the most part achieved in the desire that it be so, always imperlectly in fact. But to believe that it is possible is the substance of hope, which "knows what it believes is true." Further, the bonds that unite a religious community in this way are the strict measure of the effectiveness of its apostolic service. Only insofar as the members liberate, have compassion for, and love one another can they be redemptive in their relations with others. It is as if the co~nmunity were the fruit of each member's relation to Christ, extending itself to others, just as the union of a man and woman in marriage bears fruit in the commu-nity of the family. But this creative power a woman has is love that does not grasp its object, as zeal and desire can make her do. It is the difference, in her human relation and apostolic witness and service, between a self-motivated determina-tion and a peaceful confident waiting for God's discovery in her and through her. A woman always wonders, with joy that does not obsct~re pain, at the life God brings forth in her; so this power of the life of pure faith that is virginity awakens her wonder. And that is lost when she reaches ot~t to take what she was made to receive, in discovery. Nor can the celibate woman depend, as can a married woman, upon another's singular love to support and in-spire her; hence, her radical solitude. She knows, in each human bond, that she is one of many whose relation to anotl~er reveals and re-creates that person. Making no exclusive claim, she acts with regard to another in the knowledge that any creative result will be the fruit of union with .]est~s Christ: t~ltimately His action, not her own, and this breeds a diffidence and restraint that re-spects the other's freedom and does not presume. A woman instictively knows, perhaps, that her latent power does not lie in the project and plan, in the self-confidence that acts without allowing hindrance; these are the characteristic roles of man, who rules the earth. A woman's power lies in re-creating persons, through suffer-ing what they bring to her, through freeing them from fear that they do not suffice for themselves and others. But it lies as well in the sensitivity and personal dimen-÷ + ÷ Women's VOLUME 30, 1971 573 sion she can bring to leadership and service in public actiou and institutional structures. Whatever bet role, in private and public life, as a woman is herself free, she supports and restores others. The liberation each achieves is really received, as creative grace or gift from God, through this hnman interaction. This kind of relationship is woman's natural fertility, and it matters little, so long as she is faithful, whether she realizes it through union, with a single man or as vowed solely to Jesus Christ. She must inevitably realize it in nnion with human beings--in free and unselfish love for another. But, united by vow to Jesus Christ, she is fruit-ful in darkness of faith, in freedom that does not kuow itself, and in love that cannot see what it creates. In a celibate life she cannot hold any child of her own beget-ting. III ÷ ÷ Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 574 Such considerations, theoretical as they may seem, lead to certain conclusions regardiug the structure of religious life. If this relationship of a celibate woman to Jesus Christ, realized in and determined by her relationsMp to her companions in comnmnity, is the absolute factor of religions life, then the forms and conditions of that life are wholly relative to it. N6ne of them are the end or essence of religious consecration; a woman does not give herself over to a community, nor to a way of life, nor to an apostolate. She gives /lerself to Jesus Christ in an extension and intensification of the relation of faith and hope and love in wbicl~ baptis.m established her. She is simply converted, or turned to Him wholly, in the grow-ing experience of that relationship and, like any other woman, must, if she is to be what God intends her to be, realize it at the greatest possible depth in a human com-munity. The latter, in fact, results from the relationship. That it demands a ministry of service and witness is as natural as that marriage demands of a wo~nan child-bearing and nurturing of a family. If human relatiouship and free-dora to serve as she can according to her abilities do not develop her, she can be ;i. detriment to strong communal life rather than a vital member. The natural, human, and personal dimensions of her life are not simply the base for supernatural dedication; the two are the same, when a person is sonnd and whole of body and spirit. It is out of place, then, to orientate discussion of com-munal authority, poverty, and service from the determi-nation to safeguard strnctnres--valid as they were in their origins--or values which are simply asking for new expression. An absolute end will always require certain conditions; this personal and communal relationship to .Jesus Christ demands the most stringent ones. In the family, the conditions are determined by nature: "witness, within the single dimension of a constant natnral group, to the God-man relationship, incarnated in this family in a singular time and place. Its creative, redemp-tive, and unitive acts will procreate the hufiaan and Chris-tian communities and, given man's frailty, its continuity needs guarantee and safeguard. The marriage contract is taken before and within the existing commnnity. Paren-tal authority is all-embracing in the rearing of children, and life style is highly concentrated and uniform--allow-ing for contemporary developments to the contrary. The limits of interdependence and natnral responsibilities condition freedom in day-to-day living, which has as its end the maturing of children to independence. But the conditions of celibate commnnal living are altogether different. The Incarnation of Christ i,a reli-gious commnnity is a continuing celebration of Eucha-rist: of thanksgiving that we are here together, who have come to witness to the mystery of Jesns Christ. The grace of a con~munity's sacramental value for the world is the graciousness of a Savior. More simply, perhaps, it is the manifest joy of meeting, between friends, whose presence to one another is what matters. From the start they are, or need to be, adnlts, capable of a life commitment and creative human bonds. What is absolutely necessary to the life of snch a com-munity is that the forms of communal living, of govern-ment, of anthority and responsibility, of personal and comnlunal poverty, and of apostolic service are conducive to each individual's realization of her relationship to Christ in her companions. There is no dichotomy be-tween personal and communal needs; they are one, when recognized in this context. The difficulties and suffering that attend responsibility for one another in such rela-tionship are a deeper asceticism than self-imposed forms of penance and prayer may be, for they demand thor-ough self-abnegation. Even the external practices of commnnity life, with the self-denial they entail, do not guarantee the experience of community unless they are informed by this experience of knowing and being known, in the way God knows and loves, by some few, or even one, of a religious woman's companions. The value of any given form, strnctnre, or practice is strictly determined by its contribution to the context in which each sister can freely and responsibly grow in the relationship to Christ that constitutes her life, determines her service, and produces community with her fellow reli-gious. Ironically, this relationship, spoken of as the spirit-ual life, is the growth in holiness that has been tradition- + + + Women's Religious Li[e VOLUME 30, 1971 575 + .4. Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ally held as the first end of the vows. But its psychological implications in the context of commnnal living and per-sonal fnlfillment need to be explored. It is there we can discover the common ground from which person-oriented' and commnnity-oriented concepts spring. This is not to say that the psychological needs and experiences of different generations are the same. But they can be quite different and still depend on the same values; the point is that legislation will not safeguard the commnnal values nor guarantee the personal realization here discnssed. The freedom of life style and respect for diversity of experience that such realization demands will l)e secnred by individuals, regardless of legislation that frustrates their action, and they will not consider them-selves disrespectful of authority in the taking. For their integrity and peace may, nnder certain circnmstances, de- But more important, the multidimensional natnre of the religions comnnmity demands it. Unlike the family, its end is a witness to the universality and fnlfillment of the kingdom of Christ in service that extends rather than concentrates itself. Becat,se it resnlts from the self-gift of responsible adtdts, acting nnder personal charisms, and continuing life together in daily voluntary offering, its structnre cannot be predetermined by traditions, nor can its govermnent be essentially hierarchical. To say that it is ecclesial is simply to reiterate the charismatic and communal aspects that it draws from the Church to which it is a witness. The hierarchical aspect is secondary to this, as it was in the early Chnrch. Yet it is nnlikely that strict collegiality rnled the early Christians who, even in communal living, needed strong leadership. The authority and collegiality are one in a community, when honest and educated responsibility govern its members. The evolution of the Christian com-munity and of religious commnnities, through many ages of dependence on authority, demands now much more trnst in the capacity of those in community to govern themselves. But the trust can come only from a mutual confidence that they ,~re persons committed in a common endeavor to witness to .Jesus Christ and to serve His peo-ple. The contract it religious makes by her vows is to God within this total ecclesial commnnity. It is also within a given religious community insofar as that gronp relates to the end of the Church. In a transitional age such as this one, the service a community gives within the Church must evolve even as the Chnrch's relation to the world is evolving. Hence, the evolntionary quality of any commu-nity, as the experience of its members and demands of its service cause it to change and renew itself. Flexibility of form and diversity of experience, now leadir;g to even freer forms and more varied services, actually guarantee the continuity of a religious community, if it is strong enough to change and grow within without loss of unity. Responsibility for that unity rests on each one, facing the valid and very different experience of .others with whom she lives. Past and present and future experience must he encompassed somehow, so that corn,non values and differing concepts can continue to grow together. Then varieties of life style need not threaten the unity. Latitude of practice in manner of dress, of government, of prayer life can actually guarantee the unity if the freedom allowed is not considered a concession to some kind of self-interest, or independence from the whole. Freedom then is not merely a means or condition, but an end: a liberty of spirit necessary for trne ~inity of persons in God. And authority is ,a means to it, especially when exercised by a woman. For the ultimate purpose of her power ls to assist others to the self-value that makes obedience acceptable to God. Then exercise of authority is more a ministry than a function, and can become the most creative of hnman acts and the most self-effacing. It is a woman's unique imaging of the action of God, which gives autonomy while it creates and in governance gnar-antees freedom. As in other apparent conflicts between natural and su-pernatural values, integration is the desired end. Author-ity and freedom, like celibacy and love, complement each other; the second is the fruit of the first. Whether experi-enced in counsel from one in an office of ministry, or sim-ply in friendship, the human relationship, grounded in Jesus Christ, is the sine qua non of religious community. This kind of bum:m relationship, with or without for-realities of office, can help religious women in community to come to a deeper realization of their vows. It estab-lishes obedience more firmly in the Spirit throt.,gh the depth of this htm~an dimension; it makes actual poverty the condition for simplicity of life and poverty of spirit in human relation; and celibacy, the condition of life that allows for the fullness of charity. Women's Religious Lile VOLUME ~0, 1971 577 BARBARA DENT The Mediocrity Challenge ÷ ÷ ÷ Mrs. Barbara Dent lives at 17 Piago Rd.; Clande-lands; Hamilton, New Zealand. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS God calls each human being in a unique way to come to Him. This unique way ~s that particular person's individual vocation. The quality and degree of his identi-fication with it is the measure of his powers of love, of his capacity for self-giving. Christianity has never pretended that to conform perfectly with a God-given vocation was easy. Our Lord Himself warned that anyone who compromised was not worthy of the kingdom of heaven. The foolish virgins were shut out. So was the guest without a wedding gar-ment. The man busy filling his barns died that very night under unfortunate circumstances. There was no time for a disciple to go back and bury his dead. The un-forgiving servant was "handed over to the torturers till be should pay all his debt." The house built on sand collapsed in ruins. It is human nature to hear God's call (for, after all, that is why he gave us ears), but it is also human nature to become so busy counting the possible cost that we answer with only a half-hearted murmur: "I may come--prob-ably tomorrow," or perhaps refuse: "I'm busy now for an indefinite period. Call again later." Even those who respond generously and enthusiasti-cally--" As Jesus was walking on from there he saw a man named Matthew sitting by the custom house, and he said to him, 'Follow me.' And he got up and followed him" (Mt 9:9)--seldom improve on that initial enthusiasm or even manage to maintain it. In the first fervor of dedi-cation, they are sincerely convinced that they want to make the total response, say the uncompromising yes; yet they often fail to continue through the years without surrounding that initial gift with reservations and elaborate systems of self-protection. They want to give, but their flawed human nature, played upon by the devil, forces them into mediocrity. In all the current controversy about the need and value of consecrated celibacy, the human urge to com-promise, to have one's cake and eat it too, plays its part. The argument for self-fulfillment sometimes forgets that any human being's ultimate fidfillment is in God, and therefore that whatever way of life aims straightest at God and is therefore that person's true vocation is also most designed to complete him as an individual: "The Church knows that only God, whom she serves, meets the deep-est longings of the human heart, which is never fully satisfied by what this world has to offer" (Church Today, 41). Human living provides innumerable routes to God, all of which can be the means of tmion with Christ; yet "sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-merit" (ibid. 13), and "a monumental struggle against the powers of darkness pervades the whole history of man" (ibid. 37). An element in tiffs struggle is that divided purpose which seeks to evade the .consequences of total commit-ment, and in the process often develops compromise into a fine art. However fashions change, whatever way-out forms theological speculations adopt, the call of Christ to each individual person remains the same, and its de-mand total. A true response to this call, whatever mode of life it involves, must lead to affirming with St. Paul: "For me, to live. is Christ." "The Lord is the goal of human history, the focal point of the longings of history and of civilization, the centre of the human race, the joy of every heart, and the answer to all its yearn!ngs" (ibid., 45). This is a fact of life, whatever the individual's voca-tion, celibate or married. There can be no essential self-fulfillment apart from Christ. We discover our true selves as we become those particular extensions of His incarna-tion tlmt He has chosen us to be. Any apparent fulfill-ment that occurs in alienation from Christ is spurions and dependent upon factors that chance can shatter, and t,st, ally does. Leaving aside the question of whether Christ and hu-manity are better served by a celibate or married clergy, let us look at the state of celibacy itself, whether in priest, religious, or lay person, male or female, and assess some of the ways in which it is subject to the mediocrity chal-lenge. No one can realize the full implications of the promise or vow of celibacy at the time of making it (lust as no marriage parmer can, on his wedding day, assess the im-plications of his vows). The vow is made as the formal seal of the gift of one's whole self and life to Christ in response to His call. ÷ ÷ 4- Mediocrity = VOLUME 30, 1971 579 + ÷ 4. Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 It is in the subsequent living of the vow that its impli-cations are gradually made clear, so that one either as-sents more and mote deeply to them, relying more and more fully npon grace, or withdraws,' aghast, and com-promises, giving in before thb mediocrity challenge. Consecrated celibacy is a way of life, and a vocation, freely chosen as a positive good because intuited as one's personal rotate to God ordained by Him. The service of God and the service of humanity are inseparable. There- [ore, to travel courageously along this route for love of God is also to love one's neighbor. To be consecrated as a celibate is to become in a publicly recognized way Christ's man, Christ's woman, pledged to participate in the Savior's redemptive work, answering the call to total love for the sake of others in an all-embracive sense. In other words, the consecrated celibate is directly dedicated to the building tip of Christ's kingdom without deviation or withdrawal, to the bringing forth of spiritual children for God in eternity, instead of children of the ttesh for this world. Any route to God is straight and narrow with Calvary an inseparable part of it. The married state is no easier than the celibate state i[ it is entered into as one's pe-culiar and God-indicated route to Him. Of course this is often not the case, whereas the celibate's choice is usually a deliberate and conscious dedication to Christ first and foremost. The total love that consecrated celibacy demands is in-carnated in Christ Himself, and only in Christ. It can ex-press itself through human lives when infused into them as an extension of the divine life itself, those living wa-ters, that indwelling of the Trinity, that our Lord prom-ised to those who love Him. It means a passionate, un-compromising involvement of the whole self with the whole self of the personal, living, triumphant yet glori-ously wounded risen Lord. This entails becoming "a fragrant offering and a sacri-fice to God" (Eph 5:2) because incorporated into the sacrificial love-offering of the Son, made for the sake of humanity, to the greater glory of the Father. Human nature, disintegrated and flawed as it is, nat-urally fears such complete involvement with both God and man. We want to preserve intact the ego with all its intra-venous systems for feeding self-satisfaction and self-pres-ervation. We cannot help fearing and repelling such an invasion of the Other, although without it the enchained ego cannot be released into the freedom of the sons of God. We tare prisoners who have become dependent upon the enclosure of our cell walls for our sense of security. Just :is the trumpet blast shattered the walls of Jericho, so would the blowing of the Holy Spirit upon our pitiful ramparts raze them finally--if we let it: "For he bursts the gates of bronze and shatters the iron bars" (Ps 106:16). We recoil from even the thought of encouraging such invasion. The ego is certain it would mean disaster. Its instinct for preservation rebels against the dissolution of its barriers. Such fears are involuntary. Tbey are part of the com-plex defense mechanism against God that is I~orn with us in onr flawed human nature. We cannot help our myopic way of looking at things, our instinctive reaching out for half-truths, our intense anxiety at being taken over by God, our dread of Him as an alien, destructive force instead of our loving, eternal Father. What is required of ns is the calm recognition of all such systems of evasion, and the willed construction in the power of divine grace of contrary systems of encour-agement. We are called upon by God to recognize the insidious nature of the temptation to mediocrity, of the urge to compromise. We have to counter it by persistent prayer for His help, by the will to give and receive all, and by actions which express that will: I believe nothing can happen that will outweigh the su-preme adwlntage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him . All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death (Phil 3:8,10). This must be what we consciously will in opposition to our involuntary desires and schemings to retain our walls, to refuse "the loss of everything." The temptation to mediocrity is essentially the tempta-tion to choose comfort. It is a special danger to the celi-bate whose vows and way of life can insulate him lrom involvement with others, from all those battering, in-vigorating, stress-provoking, exacerbating and fecundat-ing fluctnations of give and take that are inseparable from married and family life. It is necessary to remember always that consecrated celibacy has been chosen not in order to evade or be spared these, but to facilitate an even wider, deeper, and more selfless involvement with the human family itself. It should lead not to a peaceful withdrawal and the COln-forts of a serene bacbelorbood or spinsterdom, but to an nnending and painfnl generation and parturition of children for the kingdom of heaven: My children, I must go through the pain of giving birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed inyou (Gal 4:19). The mystery is Christ among you, your hope of glory . It is ÷ Mediocrity VOLUME 30, !971 581 4" + + Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 for this I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly (Col 1:27,29). Like a mother feeding and looking after her own children, we felt so devoted and protective towards you, and had come to love you so much, that we were eager to hand over to you not only the Good News but our whole lives as well (1 Thes 2:8). The danger of celibacy is not sexual pressure building up to possible transgression level, but tile evasion of tension, stress, and battles in favor of ~omfort and safety. This can lead to petrification, through repression or cir-cumvention, of a person's whole affective powers. The personality becomes sterile, dehydrated, protected by a complex system of evasions and compromise, the real person who was meant to be reborn into Christ through total dedication and "undivided attention to the Lord" (! Cor 7:35) gone to earth from sheer lack of encourage-ment. Alternatively, the affective powers, instead of being stifled, may be diverted. Theu the celibate's life and pas-sion become centred on snbstitutes--liturgical niceties,. research, art, administration, power, antiqnes, aesthetics, sport, animals, relatives, or one other particular person. They may even become fixated on some such mundane and irreligious activity (if lie is a secular priest, for ex-ample, and free to follow it) as golf, racing, or dog-breed-ing. Or his passion may become raising monuments ostensibly to the glory of C, od but perhaps more to per-petnate his own memory (in lieu of sons and daughters of the flesh) if all hidden motives were made plain. The temptations to compromise over the demands of total love are ~nany and dangerous. The celibate is perhaps more open to them than the person whose vocation is marriage. In marriage, if it is a dedicated Christian one, total love is also demanded, but its channel is tile mar-riage partner, there in the flesh, obvious, defined and inescapable. For the celibate tile channel, being the hu-man family loved and served in, for, and by means of Christ, is much more easily mistaken, or silted up, or wrongly labeled, or simply ignored just because it is so ubi(jtfitous. The htunan family means not some nebulous abstract, but real persons whose abrasive presence anti perpetual demands cannot, and are not meant to be, evaded. In all cases it is people, individuals, persons, actnal living, pal-pitating entities who cannot be avoided, and who must be made contact with in some fructifying way if Christ is to be served and honored, if celibate love is to be fnl-filled. The whole of humanity is one organism, and this orga-nism is the Body of Christ in the process of being incar-nated. Through it we are meant to confer the sacrament of love upon one another. Through it we can, on the con-trary, by hate and sin shut off ourselves and others from participating in this sacrament of love. The consecrated celibate has cbosen by his vow to be a means of conferring the sacrament of love upon others. His role is to be a visible, actual sign that God's tender care and solicitous yearning for us is present among us, to be a reservoir of the living waters laid up in human hearts. The temptation to mediocrity suggests that this reser-voir be turned into a stagnant lake of sel~-enclosure by blocking off the Ebannels by which God's love pours into it and the outlets that are meant to pour it out again upon others. In time the whole place becomes "a fen of stagnant waters," with the affective powers choked: "They have abandoned me, the fountain of living waters, only to dig cisterns for themselves, leaky cisterns, that hokl no water" (Jer 2:13). To dig a cistern for oneself means to construct it with the intention of not sharing it with others. One form the temptation takes is that of doubts about the value of celibacy itself together with all kinds of rationalizations concerning the importance of human sexual relationships and of the need to experience them in order to be a whole person, in order even to be able to tmderstand others. Excuses are readily found for reading the kinds of books, watching the kinds of films, and encouraging the kinds of conversations that titillate and provide disguised --and not so disguised--sexual enjoyments.Iustifiable and necessary reverence for sex and acknowledgement 'of its power and wide ramifications give way to obsessive interest in its minutiae and manner of functioning. When snch a mental invasion has been encot, raged, the borderline between legitimate attainment of information and committing adnltery in one's heart has become blurred. The whole ideal of consecrated celibacy is in danger of becoming meaningless, and it will probably not be long before convincing excnses are found to abandon it. Also evident where mediocrity threatens is the "one for you, and one for me" trading mentality. The celibate considers that in .return for his gift of himself to God, God owes him certain satisfactions, comforts, consolations, snccesses, recognitions, rewards. If he does not get what he believes is his due he becomes sour, bitter, self-pitying, cynical, savagely critical (perhaps of the Chnrch as "a juridical institution"). He is a disappointed man who feels he has not been wdued and recognized at his true worth, and someone or something must be made to suffer for it. ÷ 4- ÷ /tlediocrity VOLUME 30, 1971 Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 He has forgotten that the initial total gift of self to God was a form of interchange by which he accepted in return, and unquestioningly, whatever God chose to give him. Total love means embracing what God gives, and lets happen as the token of His loving kindness and the means of both one's salvation and sanctification, and also one's redemptive work for others. There is no barter involved. God gives. We accept, welcome, absorb, in faith and loving trust. There can be heroism here, unavoidable majesty of selflessness that can register on the ego as its contrary-- humiliation, defeat, squirming self-seeking. God's gifts and their effects are often paradoxical, and recognized as good qnly by means of faith. The "one for you, one for me" temptation is aimed at making one repndiate or avoid suffering and that death o~ self, that burying of the seed in the dark tomb of the earth fi'om which alone can emerge the risen self in the power of Christ's own Resurrection, and hence the crown-ing of total love. It is well to remember that "God's gift was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love, and self-control" (2 Tim 1:7). There is also the temptation to succumb to mediocrity in personal relationships, avoiding intimacy and the pain of self-revelation and of receiving the confessions and love of others. In such relationships honesty is avoided in favor of polite half-trnths, soothing evasions, and surface agreements, these being rationalized as kindness or even Christian charity. Those blinding moments of truth in which we acknowledge how we use others (and they us), how we are run by our mechanisms of self-interest by which we feed secretly on those we profess to love most sincerely, are repndiated. Instead are chosen the sly pre-varications that assure us we are good mixers and not the type to give offense to anyone, and that this is the best way to he. Mediocrity can also be succumbed to in our relation-ship with ourselves. We have to love ourselves as God loves us, but this does not mean self-indulgently excusing ourselves. Rather it involves a pitiless self-honesty in which we pray fervently for the grace to face ourselves as we are. "My God, beware of Philip, else he will betray yon," prayed St. Philip Neri; and St. Paul saw with searing clarity his inability to do the good that he wanted to do unless he relied entirely upon the "grace of God." Consecrated celibacy with its vocation to total love means there can be no mediocrity regarding self-knowl-edge. If the truth that God offers, together with the grace to bear it, is accepted when and how He offers it, the ntmost interior humiliation is inevitable. Christ sets out to invade and permeate the life and the person dedicated to Him, and this means progressive insight into the un-christed self down to its demon-haunted depths. These depths have to be cleansed in what has aptly been called the "passive purgations," to' submit to which requires both a torrent of grace and heroic courage. It means the painful relinquishment of all masks, all comforting illusions, all evasions of reality, all dramas, all role-playing. Christ is truth. He is also light. Where He is, lies and darkness cannot also be; yet the unredeemed per-sonality is steeped in these. Total love becomes a reality only when heroic courage has refused the temptation to mediocrity in one's relation with onself, to choose instead Christ's invasion and powers of transformation at what-ever cost to oneself: If any man come 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). The mediocrity temptation also presents itseff as one to self-cosseting. Having renounced all the comforts of home life and the consolations of marriage, one has a right to pamper oneself a little here and there by way of compensation. There are legitimate pleasures, necessary relaxations, prudent concessions to one's own acknowl-edged weaknesses. The danger is when these are indulged in as a result of self-pity or a desire to make up to oneself for rennnciations once made but now secretly hankeretl after or envied in others. In other words, when we seek substitnte satisfactions for what is denied to us because of celibacy and the vocation to total love, we are compro-mising with that vocation. An old name for mediocrity is acedia, or spiritnal sloth. There is an old-fashioned ring about these terms which inclines some to dismiss them and what they stand for as irrelevant to modern life and post-Vatican II spiritnality. Yet Vatican II documents themselves affirm the ancient call to total love, and hence to a war against all forms of mediocrity: The followers of Christ are called by God, not according to their accomplishments, but according to his own purpose and grace . All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity (Church, 40). Hence the more ardently they unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives, the more vigorous becomes the life of the Church and the more abun-dantly her apostolate bears fruit (Religious Life, 1). Through virginity or celibacy observed for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, priests are consecrated to Christ in a new and distinguished way. They more easily hold fast to him with undivided heart. They more freely devote themselves in him 4- ÷ Mediocrity "VOLUME 30, 3.971 585 and through him to the service of God and man. They more readily minister to his kingdom and to the work of heavenly regeneration, and thus become more apt to exercise paternity in Christ, and do so to a greater extent (Priests, 16). Consecrated celibacy as a route to God can never be-come out of date because Christ will always remain the way, the truth, and the life, and intimate union with Him will always be a human being's highest form of fulfillment. The vocation to celibacy is a vocation to direct embrace-ment with the Bridegroom for the sake of the kingdom He became incarnate to establish. Those called to such a vocation are called also to total love of God and man and to an heroic battle against all temptations to mediocrity. God provides with the vocation all the graces necessary to endure and defeat these temptations, even when it ap-pears subjectively that failure is all that is achieved: The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God. We know that by turning everything to their good God co-operates with all those who love him, with all those that he has called according to his purpose. They are the ones he chose specially long ago and intended to become true images of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers. He called those intended for this; those he called he justified, and with those he justified he shared his glory (Rm 8:28-30). Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 SISTER MARY SERAPHIM, P.C.P.A. Living Creatively under Stress Stress, tensions, pressnres all tug and pull at ns day in and day out. We get up in the morning with a sense of having spent the whole night rnnning and getting no-where. Urgency clogs our steps. Clocks tick inexorably at us, staring clown from walls, peering up from dash boards, glowing in the clark on our wrists. Appointments, assignments, schedtdes rtde our clay and haunt our nights. Even when we manage to salvage a 15it of "free time," we spend it worrying whether we could not put it to more profitable use. This phenomenon of twentieth century living has provoked much discussion lately. Techniques for relaxing, drugs to tranquillize our shattered nervous system, systems of yoga and zen to lift us out of the present into a timeless nirvana glnt the common market. Despite this proliferation, I offer a few more insights, this time based on the experience of cloistered contemplative liv-ing, which might be of interest and assistance to us Chris-tians of pressurized society. Yon may have noticed that I said "us" of pressurized society, for cloistered ntms are just as apt to be canght in the bind of too "nauchwork" and not "enonghtime" as the rest of the human race. How then can a person who senses that life is meant for something more than just "to get things clone" work creatively within this fleeting thing called time? How can we escape the pressure to "do" in order to simply "be"? As most of ns have already discovered tension results, not from all the demands made upon us frorrtowithout, bnt from the pressures we generate w~thm Stress-~s not an evil in itself. It actually constitutes ~-positive good when it serves as a prod to move us to higher achieve-merits. The meeting and surmounting of difficulties is the normal process which leads to maturity. Most of the great inventions of the world would not have been discovered 4- 4- + Sister M. Sera-phim, P.C.P.A., is a member of Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave-nue N.; Canton, Ohio 44714. VOLUME 30, 1971 587 Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RE/I~II00S 588 unless there had been a need to overcome some inconven-ience or obstacle. Many of the great masterpieces of art, literature, and music might never have been executed had not the artist been forced by some circumstance to plumb the depth of his genius. Stress and difficulties have their positive side then; and we should not expect them to be totally absent from our lives, any more than we should, as Christians, expect the cross hot to cast its shadow across our days. The handling of the problem of stress can be ap-proached from many angles, such as the psychological, the sociological, the anthropological. However, I propose to utilize a more theological dimension without overlook-ing the necessity of integrating theological ideals with practical psychological data. Supernature and Nature As we know, grace builds on nature. Supernature is simply a highly developed, highly gifted operation which has its seat in our natural faculties. To be in a position to insure steady spiritual growth our natural faculties must be in as good working order as possible. Much insistence is laid today on the necessity of healthful and happy climates in our religious houses. The human in the conse-crated man or woman must be given consideration so that the whole person progresses in holiness. We have shifted from an overemphasis on the divine and spiritual aspect of our religious life to an almost exaggerated con-cern with the mundane and bodily elements in our daily existence. The movement away from a purely spiritual concept of religion was a necessary one. If we divorce our soul from its intrinsic relationship with our body, we are in clanger of becoming split-level creatures. We would end in the neurotic condition of perpetually ascending and descend-ing the staircase between onr "higher" mode of living and our "lower" bodily state of existing. Afraid to remain on only the lower plane, yet unable to live perpetually on the higher one, we would literally live on the stairway--a most unnatural and unrestful state of affair!! Now that we have acknowledged that we must stand firmly rooted on the ground-level of our huma.nity if we are to stretch our branches high, we must beware of spending too mnch time mulching the soil and preparing the proper amount of water and sunshine. It is undenia-bly true that good environment contributes heavily to the full development of the human creature. Yet if most of us are honest we must recognize that the majority of persons realize their finest potential when facing adverse condi-tions. Furthermore we know that there exists nowhere on earth a paradise of idyllic situations. To look for it is useless or to try to develop it will prove fruitless. We could spend a lifetime looking for the perfect siti~ation in which we could become our true selves. Since such a solution to the problem of stress and tension is chimeri-cal, we might do well to accept our present situation with its good and its bad and try to work creatively within it. I submit that if we can order our inner (spiritual) life to fnnction harmoniously with our "outer" life, we will have reduced the stress and tension in our days to a minimum. We Are Not God First of all, let us humbly admit that we are not God. We do not know the complete plan for our own exist-ence, much less that of others or of society as a whole. Obliged to work with only partial knowledge, we are not responsible for the barmonions ordering of the universe. Although as Christians we do have a responsibility to each and everyone of our fellowmen, yet as finite crea-tures our personal response is not expected to reach all of tfiem directly. Much which goes on in the world cannot and even should not be solved by us personally. We are asked to do what lays before ns to the best of our ability, nothing more. Does this sound like mere selfishness? Or simply common sense? Actually it can become very uncommon sense when we view it in God's perspective. He has a plan and a work for each one of ns. He weighed it beforehand to meet our limited strength. He measured our capacities to make sure they were adequate for the task at band. He is very careful not to ask more of us than He knows we are able to do. Why should we strive against Him and demand that we take care of situations and solve problems which are beyond our scope? Humility can be a very restful virtue. It teaches us to recognize what we are and what we are not. With its clear vision, we see our talents an~.l we recognize our limita-tions. We learn to look up to God for strength and for wisdom. The bumble man goes peaceftilly about his as-signed job and usually is able to make a good success of it because be does not waste a lot of psychic energy attempt-ing to solve difficulties that are not his to solve. He leaves all that is beyond his immediate scope to God's provi-dence. This does not mean, however, that he does not care. On the contrary, the person who really lives in the faith of God's guiding hand in the nniverse will care more effectively than many others who become so caught up in their own plans for reforming the world that they see nothing but themselves. ÷ ÷ ÷ Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 19T1 589 + 4. 4. Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 590 Power and Splendor We cannot help becoming immersed to the point of being enmeshed by our everyday problems if we concen-trate all our attention only on them. If we permit our prayer life to consist merely of begging God's assistance for the project in hand, it will be difficult to rednce the problems involved to manageable size because we will have magnified them to the point where they and God are the only realities in the universe. Instead we might do well to devote a good portion of our personal prayer time to considering the magnificence of God as He is in Him-self. If even for a fleeting, breathtaking moment we sense the grandeur and greatness of this Being whom we ad-dress as our Father, a moral earthquake occurs in our portion of the Lord's vineyard. Problems and vexations sink nearly out of sight for the time being and the ground we stand on raises us startlingly near to the stars. Huge becomes tlm universe, immense the (limensions of God's activity and small, very small onr share in this cosmic pageant. Such an intuition does not destroy our appreciation of the little things of life but rather enables ns to see them in their proper perspective. In such a setting their true beauty and value shine forth. We are free to "be" among all these encompassing wonders for inwardly we have expanded to the degree where we now encompass them. We learn to support the "horizontal" with the "vertical." St. Benedict, it is said, once saw the whole universe in a single ray of light. "How conld a man see all creation in one glance?" asked St. Gregory in his Dialogues and he answered himself: "He who sees God sees all things in Him." Do you perceive how integrating such an attitude can be and how beneficial to us as human beings if we culti-vate it? Tensions and difficnlties we meet will not become too large for us to handle and even nse creatively. With our minds free and onr energies concentrated fully on the task at band, we will bring to our work fresh insights and profound wisdom. New sources of energy will be released as we meet new obstacles. Instead of mentally attempting it all ourselves, we will take it to the Lord whose strength we know is equal to the task. While laying the bnrden of worry at His feet, we will be enabled to stand light and free before Him. God will grow greater and greater in our estimation and our problems proportionately smaller. When we attack the difficult situation which cannot be avoided we will be able to experience the tug and pull of contrary tensions without being shattered or torn apart. We will move in the conscious awareness that a power greater than our owu is at work here. That power, that strength, is a Person. It is a Person whom we profoundly love and whose Presence is onr supreme joy: "The joy of the Lord is our strength." An-other way of expressing this phenomenon is to call it growth in contemplative awareness. ~te utilize the prob-lems of the "lower story" to call down the assets of the "tipper story" of onr nature. XYe grow in stature so as to live spiritnally in the midst of materialities. All of this requires time and . tension. Until tension enters onr lives, we feel no need to become more than what we are. Until we find ourselves under the pressure of more than we can do, we will not experience the necessity of throw-ing ourselves on our knees before our sovereign Lord and looking humbly to His greatness. When His aid is vonchsafed, we shonld remain humble enough to use it in the manner He intended. A marvelons freedom marks the man who knows, in the roots of his being, that he is only the custodian and dispenser of the creative energy of ahnighty God. This man appears to accomplish tremen-dous things with serene ease. We do not know for certain but can gness that in the depths of his spirit, this man kneels in constant and hnmble supplication before His Lord. Before the shrine of this overmastering Presence, lie knows himself as nothing. In the light of this over-whelming Love, he knows himself heloved. In the strength of such love, nothing is impossible. Hope is in-vincible. Hope The virtue of hope here manifests itself as the trnst to leave the past and the future in God's hands. If we strive to live only here and now, we can eliminate much of the artificial stress which stretches our days beyond the limits of their twenty-four bonrs. How often have we not wor-ried ourselves into a stew abont possibilities which never materialized? Again, how frequently have we not fretted ourselves thin over past events which nothing can change now? The hope which is strong enough to le~ve the p~st to God's mercy, the future to His providence, and the present to His wisdomis a marvelous help to relaxed and fruitfnl living. We do not develop such hope overnight. Indeed we need many "nights," often painfully dark, be-fore our hope is refined to snch perfection. If we can view the dit:ficulties created in ourselves by tensions as so many stepping stones to hope, we have begun to work creatively with one of the most fi'ustrating aspects of our lives. We would like to be persons who do ~lot feel tension, who do not experience nerves, to whom nothing is a serious threat. But the more we strive to deny the deadening effects of anxiety and nervonsness in ourselves, the worse it becomes. We are humiliated by the 4- 4- 4- Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 1971 + + + Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 592 outward manifestations of our inner inadeqnacies. In-stead of humbly recognizing our human needs, we try even harder to suppress them. One (lay, however, we are forced to admit that we are practically "nnglned" and barely holding our sbattet~fd self togetber with rapidly weakening will power. Hopefully, such awareness occurs long before serious neurotic disturbances take over. We are still capable of being the master of our ship if we look to another to be the Captain. Quietly accepting the fact that tensions will wreck havoc with onr digestive or nervous or muscular system, we are in a position to work with them creatively. Reality recognized hecomes a pliable instrument in the hands of a thinking man. Reality unrecognized becomes a demon in the closet of the unconscions man. We need help to come to such recognition--God's help. He is the One who made us with these peculiar tendencies and weak-nesses. He Mone knows how ~'e are to work with them to accomplish His ends. Our task is not to augment ~the problem with useless imaginings. Tomorrow will bring its own problems., and its own solutions. Perhaps this interweaving of common sense and snper-natnral motives into a harmonious whole does not seem an extremely new or exciting solntion to. the problem of living creatively under stress. Yet it has proved a very workable one in the environment of the cloister. Few persons live in a situation so fraught with artificial ten-sions aud i,~grown perspectives as the cloistered nun. These dangers are what may be termed the "occupational hazards" of cloistered living. They are not reasons for dissolving cloisters, however! Almost any occupation, if it is worthwhile, carries with it certain hazards. The diffi-culties of living a celibate and consecrated life in the active religious orders are not valid reasons for doing away with religious life in the Church. Rather these very hazards can prove to be a most provocative challenge to yonng idealists. If we keep our vision broad and our feet steadfastly on ascending paths, the dangers will threaten bnt not overwhehn ns. Beauty One of the most closely allied natnral and snpernat-ural activities is the contemplation of beatlty. Beauty excites the noblest aspirations of human nature. On the natural plane, familiarity with beauty refines and purifies our sensitivities. We find in its contemplation a peculiar rest and contentment. Yet it rarely satiates. We forever bnnger for more. Onr thirst is ultimately for Beauty itself --the splendor of the undimnaed attractiveness of tbe Trinne God. God has placed in our souls a capacity for infinite loveliness. The passing beanties of this earth wound our sensibilities, with their constant fading and withering, instinctively we know that beauty is meant to last forever. To grow into a "see-er" of beauty is to de-velop a capacity for mystical contemplation. The hair-breadth line which separates them is easily and naturally crossed. If all human beings are made to respond to beauty, women are especially endowed with this reflective faculty. As Father Bernard H~ring remarks, "I think that women have a distinctive sense [or beauty in their spirituality. The great beauty of all created things consists in their being the language of a personal God" (Acting on the Word). Since women naturally "personalize" all the "things" they encounter, they spontaneonsly apprehend beauty as the speaking of the Beloved. The words may be mysterious but the Voice is well known. Development of our capacity for the appreciation of beauty does not reqnire special training. It only asks for time. Somehow we must learn to "take time for the good things of life." Instead of pressuring ourselves with a perpetual motion precept we should condition ourselves to moments of tranqnil stillness. We should strive to see time as primarily space in which to "be." Be what? Be ourselves. We discover who we are by becoming aware of our actions and reactions to persons, things, and events. If we foster the reaction of silent admiration before any source of loveliness, our contemplative self grows stronger. A new phenomenon unfolds within us. For a tiny moment there is silence--a quiet space in our spirit where we are nndistractedly absorbed in the immediacy of beauty. X,\re savor the loveliness of the moment and discover we are side by side, if not face to face, with eternal Beauty. If this quiet space within onr spirit is permitted to expand, it soon penetrates our exterior activity. Others become aware of a mysterious dimension in our personal-ity which attracts them. We exhibit a marked serenity and freedom. Whenever we find ourselves in situations of tension, we can more easily cope with them becanse of an inner strength fostered by habitually striving to integrate the transcendent with the mundane. This is not an unreal existence divorced from the concrete circumstances of our life. Rather it could very accurately be termed the "im-manent" level for we learn to penetrate to the deepest (and most beautiful) realities of all the surface phenom-ena we meet. Contemplative living is the result of striv-ing for h;fl)itual attentiveness to natural beauties. In the cloistered contemplative life, beauty plays an extremely important role. Much rethinking should be done in this area. Education to the appreciation of good art is of only minor ir.,portance. The more important 4- 4- 4- Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 1971 593 thrust should be towards the recognition of deeper and more lasting loveliness hidden in every atom of creation. The contemplative is a person who withdraws from the world only to view it more comprehensively. Such a one distances himself from worldly turmoil in order to pene-trate its inner significance. His should be a thoroughly optimistic, thoroughly Christian outlook. The fleetingness of beauty teaches him forcefully that man is only a pilgrim on earth. The infinite longing of his spirit for beauty proves to him the necessity of an everlasting Loveliness. Made for eternal splendors, finite man is forever restless in time. He longs for the repose of unchanging possession. Freed from the impossible task of finding complete fulfillment in the present situation, he experiences no false tensions. Set loose from the obsession that he must order the universe aright, he does not writhe in the stress of too little time and too much work. He pauses momentarily before the passing beauties of time and permits them to enkindle his spirit with the desire of everlasting splendors. Then freely, gaily he walks on, bearing the burdens of mankind but lightly for the joy of the promise set before him. 4- 4- 4- Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELI{~IOUS 59,t CHRISTOPHER KIESLING, O.P. Celibacy, Friendship, and Prayer In recent decades, and especially since Vatican Council II, the potentialities of marriage for holiness and prayer have gained the attention of many Christians. Young peo-ple desirous of following Christ closely are less inclined to enter religious life or the priesthood. They are apt to choose a more adventurous following of Christ to holi-ness through the largely uncharted land of marriage. Many already living the celibate life wonder whether they have chosen the "better" way to holiness after all. In marriage they could have the natural fulfillment of their God-given sexuality and at the same time zealonsly follow Christ. Marriage, no doubt, complicates the following of Christ, but the history of the priesthood and religious life in the centuries of the Cht~rch's existence testifies that celibacy by. no means guarantees a Christlike life. Mar-riage, moreover, in daily care for spouse and children, provides many opportunities for growth in charity. As far as prayer is concerned, no intrinsic incompatibility exists between marriage and prayer; in fact, marriage offers many spurs to growth in prayer. The celibate life, on the other hand, certainly does not automatically produce a deep life of prayer. What, then, is the value of the celibate life for prayer? What potentialities for growth in prayer are found in celibacy? The question is not whether celibate life is better for prayer than married life, or the single state, or widow-hood. No attempt is being made here to discover possibil-ities for prayer in the celibate life superior to the possibil-ities in any other state of life. Each state of life has its own opportunities for growth in prayer, and any at-tempts to compare the opportunities of celibacy with those of any other state will always be limited and ulti-mately of little practical value. Comparisons fail because + ÷ Christopher Kies-ling, O.P., is a fac-ulty member of Aquinas Institute School of Theology in Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 30, 1971 595 C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,596 they imply some standard of judgment, for example, free-dom from family demands and concerns. In this perspec-tive, celibacy has an adwmtage over marriage in regard to prayer, for the celibate has more time free from family claims and few, if any, family responsibilities to occupy his thonghts. But another standard of jndgment may be awareness of the needs of others which prompts one to pray. By this norm, a husband or wife, a father or mother, has an advantage over the celibate, for the bonds of marriage and parenthood make oue especially sensitive to the needs of at least a few persons for whom one is inspired to pray. Comparisons fail also because generali-zations abont life are open to many concrete exceptions. In coutrast to the generalizations made above, some older married people have more time and freedom for prayer than celibates who are teaching, and some celibates are more sensitive to the needs of others tban some married people. So the concern here is not to prove that the celibate is in a better position to grow in prayer than the person who is in some other state of life. It is not even of con-cern whether the possibilities for prayer in the celibate life are unique to it. The aim is simply to explore the opportunities for prayer given in the celibate life, so that celibates may exploit them fully. The discernment and exploitation of the potentialities for prayer in other states of life is preferably done by those living in them. The question is not co~lceived, moreover, as a search for a reason why someone should.choose the celibate life or remain faithful to it. The inquiry is regarded, rather, as a help to those inclined or commited to celibacy, so that they may take advautage of the gift which God has given tbena or now offers them. The celibate life is not the product of reasoning. Celi-bates are a fact in the history of the Church up to this moment. These men and women have entered upon, and continue in, this way of life for many reasons of a per-sonal nature, rather than from any theoreti'cal ideas abont the valne of celibacy. Temperament, character for-mation, family life, environment, edu.cation, interests and talents, particular interpersonal relationships, and uniqne interior experiences explain their celibate lives. When initially inclined to this state of life, or after adopting it, they undoubtedly welcome theoretical ideas about its value to legitimize or justify their choice. But the motives for their choice are much more complex and deeply buried in individnal history than any rational justifications. The believing Christian, of conrse, sees a religious meaning in all these factors: they fall under the loving care of a provident God and constitute a divine vocation to the celibate life. That life is ultimately a charism, a gift, from God. Without His call realized in personal history, there is no authentically religious celibate life. The inspiration of the celibate life is the Holy Spirit calling one through one's personal history, not some ra-tional demonstration of the superiority of the celibate state over other states of life. Celibacy is a mysterious gift. The aim here, therefore, is to explore the potentialities for prayer in a state of life ,~hich many find God has already given to them, or which many feel God wishes to give to them. For the success of that God-given life, at whatever stage it is, the exploitation of its potentialities is imperative, and particularly its possibilities for growth in prayer. Having put one's hand to the plow (or having reached toward it), and perhaps even having pushed it partly across the field of life, one does not wish to be looking back to weigh the advantages of this state of life against those of another state; one wishes, rather, to get busy actualizing the potentialities for prayer in the life which God has already given or begnn. The potentialities of celibacy for growth in prayer may be seen as residing radically in celibacy's exclusion from one's life of an intimate companion such as one has in a marriage partner. The celibate may indeed have very close friends, bnt the closeness of friends is not the same as the intimacy of marriage. He will not have some one person with whom be shares, in mutual loyalty, a joint responsibility and care for the development of life, fam-ily, and the world in fulfillment of God's vocation to mankind. He will not have another person closely united to him in daily life to alleviate the loneliness which haunts human beings. He will not have someone at hand whose fidelity be can count on, with whom he can frankly talk over many of Iris worries, aspirations, and satisfac-tions, and in whose presence he can be himself, setting aside the masks he must wear and the roles he must play in business and society. Nor will he have some one person for whom he can create and build and provide, whom he can cherish and protect, knowing that his care and con-cern are welcomed and appreciated. And of course he will have no one with whom he can express all his powers of love, including the physical,t This description of what a wife provides for her hns-band may sound romantic rather than realistic, or indica-tive of neurotic needs in the husband. We do not wish to be romantic about what marriage provides. Marriage is fundamentally an arrangement for living in which man a These reflections are cast in terms of the male celibate because that is the experience which the author knows from the inside, so to speak. What is said, however, will be applicable, with appropriate "adjustments, to the celibate woman. + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 597 + + + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 and woman can have the full natural development of their sexed humanity.2 Marriage, more6ver, is more likely to be successful and happy if the partners are not merely satisfying subjective needs by means of one another but, being somewhat matnre, secnre, and capable of standing on their own feet, are free to care for one another's welfare? What we wish to note by this description of what a wife provides for her husband is tbat his life is enriched by intimate companionship with another per-son. To say that in marriage one's life is enriched by an-other person does not mean that a marriage partner is a crutch for personal weaknesses or a pleasant bnt unim-portant trimming added to one's life. What the marriage partner provides is essential for personal matnrity. A common theme of contemporary psychology, psychiatry, and philosophy is that to become mature persons we mtlSt interact with other persons, and mnst even have some intimate relationships with others. 0nly through interaction with other persons, and through some inti-mate interactions, do we come to awareness of our own unique selves with our pecldilu" qnalities, good, bad, and indifferent. Only through such interaction do we learn to master our constructive and aggressive drives and direct them to personally and socially beneficial goals. Through interpersonal relationships we acquire that freedom of self-possession which is characteristic of man. So a mar-riage partner provides, not a supplement for personal inadequacies or for pleasanmess of life, but a comple-ment necessary for the achievement of personal maturity. Briefly, to be mature persons we need other persons in our lives and even some intinaacy with others. For most men and women this need is supplied largely, though not necessarily exclnsively, by naarriage. The celibate, how-ever, excludes marriage from his life and thereby ex-clndes the common means of developing personal matu-rity. Herein lies both the peril and the opportunity of the celibate life. If the celibate's potentialities for personal matm'ity are unfnlfilled, lie will become a dull non-en-tity, if not a disgruntled, nenrotic, nnltappy person. If these potentialities are not sublimated, he will be in-clined to abandon the celibate life for marriage. The celibate must have other persons in his life, even inti-mately, if lie is to become a mature person and give himself its a full human being to God. Where will lie find these other persons? He will find them in friendships, first of all with God 2Sce Aron Krich with Sam Blum, "Marriage and the Mystique of Romancc," Redbook, November 1970, p. 123. sScc Erich Fromm, The Art o[ Loving (New York: Bantam, 1963), p. 17. the Father, His incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and then also with other human beings. Intimate friendship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will be realized in prayer, and friendships with people will ma-ture in prayer. Thus celibacy, by excluding an intimate relationship with another person such as one has in mar-riage, yet leaving the need for personal relationships and even some intimacy, creates two great potentialities for prayer: the potentiality for prayer in the need to develop intimate friendship with the three divine Persons of the Trinity, and the potentiality for prayer in the need to develop friendships with people. Celibacy creates in one's life a vact~um which craves to be filled. For a mature personality, for happiness, and for a truly successful celi- I)ate life, the wise celibate fills this vacuum with intimate personal relations to the F:tther, Son, and Spirit and with hun~an friendships. Filling the vacut~m in these ways in-volves prayer. We will consider the possibility for growth in prayer first in relating personally to God and then in establish-ing friendships with people. A married man who, in the course of the day, has experienced failure, disappointment, or hnrt can un-ashamedly recount his tale of woe to his wife that evening. She can console him and make love with him and so ease his pain and restore his self-confidence, so that he can go on with life. The celibate has no person who can do all th;~t for him in the way a wife can. He is usually forced, therefore, if he wishes consolation and restoration, to seek them in prayer to God. The same holds true for the expression of joy. The married na~n can recount his suc-cesses and tritmiphs to his wife who will consider them as her own, share his happiness, and reward him, so to speak, by m:~king love with him. The celibate will have to turn to God in prayer for comparable satisfaction in the expression of joy. The married man does not have to make all serious decisions and bear their consequences alone. Fie makes many of them with his wife and can count on her loyal support in the conseqnences that fol-low. The celib;~te has no one who can so closely cooperate with him in making decisions and in living with their consequences. He will have to find help and support in God in prayer. All this tells us something about wh:lt prayer should be for the celibate. It should be an encounter with a per-sonal God, with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as per-sons. The celibate must cnltivate a sense of the person-hood of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He cannot afford to allow God to remain some distant, impersonal force behind the universe and his life. The three divine Persons mnst become genuine persons for him to relate 4- 4- + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 ,'599 + + + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 600 to, even as a man's wife is a person for him to relate to. Of course, the divine Persons are not persons in exactly the same sense as a human person. But°divine person-hood includes what is most essential to personhood as we know it in human beings. It includes a knowing,, loving, caring subject who can sympathize and can act to help oue. Important in the life of the celibate, then, is the cnltiva-tion of a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in his life, as truly as a man's wife is a person in his life. This cultiw~tion will be accomplished " through various forms of prayer. It will be done by meditative reading of the Scriptures through which the celibate will discover and appreciate more and more how truly the Father, His incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, and Their Spirit are knowing, loving, sym-pathetic, caring, belpfnl persons relating themselves to men in their sorrows and joys. Tbrongb familiarity with the Scriptures, the celibate will disceru that he, iudividu-ally, with his good and bad qualities, is accepted uncondi-tioually by the Father, even as the prodigal son was by Iris f;ither, th:~t he is loved by Christ, even as the woman taken in adultery was, and that he is supported by the Holy Spirit who deigns to dwell in him as his constant companion. Also important for the. celibate is the practice of the presence of God, that is, the effort to be aware of, and respond to, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as personally present to him. Personal presence is not merely physical proximity. In regard to God~ it means not only that He is near the celib:lte to snstain his being and activity. It means also that be is in God's thoughts and affection. The practice of the presence of God, the heart of mental prayer, is awareness of God's personal presence and re-sponse to it by holding God in one's own thoughts and affection. Bnt we should be more precise and speak of the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Chris-tian God is threefold in person. What must he cnltivated is awareness of, and response to, these three Persons pres-ent in one's life. Through various forms of prayer, the celibate mnst become as mt, tually personally present to the three divine Persons as a man is mntnally personally present to his wife, thougl~, of course, the former presence will always be in the obscurity of faith. Because the presence of the Trinity is realized only in faith, it is difficult to have a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in one's life. Besides, the persons of the Trinity are not like hmnan persons: unlike a man's wife, they are not bodily beings, visihle, andible, tangible. They do not talk back to the celibate immedi-ately, as does a man's wife, bnt answer him only through his search into revelation, the signs of the times, and his own peculiar situation. Bnt through the humanity of Jesus, the personal being of God is clearly revealed; with-out question God understands and sympathizes with us in our miseries anti joys, anti He accepts us despite our limitations anti failings. Through communion with the person Jesus Christ, the celibate learns also to recognize the Father anti the Spirit as genuine persons in his life. Christ's presence in the Eucharist is a further help to the celibate in relating to God personally. The Son of God incarnate lays hold of bread and wine and trans-forms them so that they are no longer bread and wine, except in appearance, but Himself for men. Thereby He is personally present to the celibate not only spiritually, by thought and affection, but also concretely, spatially, and temporally (though through'the mediation of the appearances of the consecrated elements), as a man's wife is present to him. It remains only for the celibate to respond to this most intense anti full personal presence of God in Christ by sacramental communion or by a "visit" to Christ in the Eucharist. Foolish is the celibate who never turns to Christ in the Blessed Sacrament for conso-lation in sorrow or for the sharing of joy. On the part of God, Christ in the Eucharist is the most concrete realiza-tion of the presence of God in the celibate's life. Com-munion with Christ in the Sacrament is analogous to the commnnion which a husband has with his wife as they embrace. It may be objected that the Christian married man also lntlst develop a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as krxowing, loving, and caring persons in his life if he is to progress in holiness and prayer. There are times when lie will not have his wife at hand to snpport him anti share with him; anti even when she is at hand, there are needs and experiences which he cannot fully share with her, as mnch as lie may try and she may be willing. On these occasions lie must turn to Father, Son, anti Holy Spirit in prayer. It is even more obvious that the single man and the widower also are invited to relate to the Father, Son, anti Holy Spirit as genuine persons in their lives. In answer it may be said that it makes no difference to the celibate if others are called to an intimate friendship in prayer with the three divine Persons. hnportant for the celibate is the fact that, in Go'd's gift to him of celi-bacy, there is a great potentiality for prayer opened tip to him. Whether or not others have a similar potentiality for prayer is not nearly :is important as his making the most of the potentiality which has been given to him. Yet the celibate's situation is different from most other men's. The married man does have a wife in whom lie + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 601 + ÷ + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 can often and at least partially fulfill his need for inti-mate personal relationship. The single man can marry. The widower, if his faith is vigorous and vivid, can enjoy the spiritual presence of his wife, whose life has not ended with death but changed; he can also remarry. The celibate, in virtue of his vow, is without any of these possibIe means of satisfying his need for intimate per-sonal relationship. In times of need, he cannot turn to any of these possibilities but is compelled, as it were, to turn immediately to God. The celibate should rejoice that a potentiality for prayer which is a normal part of his life as a result of God's gift of celibacy is also bestowed on others by the circumstances of their lives. He should develop a keen sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as persons in his life to whom he intimately relates, so that he can help his fellow men do the same thing for the times in their lives when they need it. This is one way in which he serves as an example of Christian life and as a help to his fellow Christians in other states of life. The call of the celibate to turn in prayer to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in his life for personal fulfillment tells us something about the content of prayer. One is inclined to think of prayer as saying "nice" things to God or thinking edifying thoughts in His presence. To pray is to recall God's wonderful works for men in the history of salvation. It is to praise God for His power, wisdom, and providence and to thank Him for .Jesus Christ and the gift of the Spirit. It is to express faith, hope, and charity in His regard. It is to have beau-tiful tl~oughts inspired by passages in Scripture or in spiritual books of meditation. It is to pray for the salva-tion of souls, for the growth of the Church, for the Pope and bishops, for health and holiness. As the content of prayer, all this is excellent. But if this is all that one ever regards as appropriate content for prayer, it may be doubted that one very often prays with the deep conviction and feeling with which the Psalmist or Jeremiah or Jesus prayed. If we turn again to the married man, we can get some idea of further and more realistic content for the prayer of the celibate. Marriage provides for the support and fulfillment of the married man because be has another person to whom be can unburden his soul. He does not talk to his wife only about beautiful and inspiring things. He does not always praise and thank her. The concerns which be ex-presses to bet are not limited to the general needs of mankind or society. He sometimes speaks to her about his doubts, his anger, his pity, his misery. He sometimes com-plains about her household management. Out of sincere admiration and gratitude, he sometimes congratulates her for a delicious meal or for a well-planned dinner party. To her he expresses deep emotions of fear, grief, hostility, hope, and joy, without fear that he will be rejected or tl~ougbt silly. He expresses to her his carnal desire for her. With his wife he is himself, lets himself go, and discovers what is in himself. As the married man expresses himself to his wife, the celibate expresses himself to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In prayer the celibate talks to God about his doubts and convictions, his misery and his happiness. To God be rehearses his dislikes and hatreds, knowing that God will not condemn him but will heal his hostilities or at least help him live with them in a way which will not harm him or others. He vents his disappointments, his hurts, his aspirations, his feelings of triumph, without feeling that God will think him damnable or vain but, on the contrary, will go on loving him the more for opening his beart to Him. He tells God bow annoyed he is by his snperior or how vexed he is that his plans for the summer have been thwarted. He tells God about the happy visit he had that clay with a clear friend or about the program which he directed with remarkable success. He thanks God for the many blessings He has bestowed and complains to Him about His designs for him now. In a word, the celibate's prayer is not only saying things to God which one is expected to say to Him, as one is expected to say certain things to a bishop, or a superior, or the president of the United States. A married man does not find support and fulfillment in married life by telling his wife only those things which are expected in some romantic notion of marriage, but by telling her what is really in his mind and heart. So the celibate prays authentically to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit by ex-pressing to Them what is trnly in his mind and heart, whether it is beautiful or ugly. In this way he discovers himself through prayer to the three divine Persons. It should be noted that it is not mere self-expression that leads to self-discovery, but self-expression to which there is a response from another self. A husband's expres-sion of himself evokes a response from his wife; she ex-presses herself in silence or in words, favorably or unfa-vorably, admitting and accepting or challenging and re-fusing what her husband has presented. A husband's wife "talks back" in various ways. Dialogue between two per-sons arises. As a result of the exchange, the "truth" emerges into the light: what sort of person each is, what motivates each, strong and weak points of character. This truth about the self may not be recognized in the conrse of the exchange but only afterwards as one reflects on what happened in it. Nor does the whole truth emerge from one dialogue. It is only tbrongh repeated dialogue ÷ ÷ ÷ Celibacy VOLUME 30~ 3.971 603 + ÷ ÷ C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 604 over the course of time tbat a husband understands him-serf better, acquires some self-possession, and thus ma-tures. The analogous relation between husband and wife on the one hand and, on the other, the celibate and the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit appears to break down at this point. The Persons of the Trinity do not talk back. But they do! The three divine Persons talk back in reve-lation, in the external circnmstances of the celibate's life, and in his internal condition. In revelation, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit express the sort of persons they are, their motives, their designs. As a husband has to adjust himself to his wife as he discovers her to be through their dialogue together, the celibate must adjust himself to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Important for the celibate, then, is his continual searching in revelation, especially as found in the Scriptures, for God's response to what is in his mind and in his heart. In the external circum-stances of his life (where and with whom he lives, the duties he has, the claims made on him by others) and in his internal condition (his strengths and weaknesses of character, his interests and talents, his fears and hopes), God also talks back to the celibate. The celibate must adjust himself to these circumstances and conditions which divine providence has imposed or permitted. By examining his thoughts, feelings, desires, and activities in the light of revelation and the circumstances and condi-tions of his life in prayer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the celibate, over a period of time, discovers more and more of the truth about himself. This truth makes him free, makes him a mature human person. I[ prayer is the expression to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit of all the celibate's thoughts and feelings, the "not-nice" ones as well as the "nice" ones, then prayer will not be limited to neat little times of prayer punctuating the (lay. The celibate can be personally present to the three divine Persons while he is walking down the street, tak-ing a shower, or dropping off to sleep at night. Moreo-ver, it is during just such times when he is alone and involved in activities which do not engage his mind very mnch, that he finds himself rehearsing in his mind and imagination his resentments, disappointments, failures, pleasures, and achievements. Dnring these times he has an opportunity for prayer. All that is required is the recognition that he is in the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and the wish that They hear his recital of woe or happiness. The celibate will welcome times set aside for prayer, for then he will have the opportunity to express more fully his thoughts and feelings to the three divine Per-sons. He will have an opportunity to ask Them to forgive him for the wrong he has discovered in himself and to help him persevere in the good which he has found. He will welcome more formal and objective liturgical prayer, or spontaneous prayer in a group, for in some words of the liturgy or some words of a fellow Christian, there is the possibility that God's response to his self-expression will finally come: God will at last talk back. The dia-log. ue between the celibate and God will be consummated and the celibate will discern the truth about himself. God will not talk back to the celibate every time he engages in common prayer, liturgical or informal, but certainly on some occasions God's word will be there for him. Conse-quently, he will not neglect such prayer lest he miss the word of God which is meant just for him. When this word comes fi'om God in common prayer, it will continue to resound in his mind and heart as he goes his way, a new man, knowing himself better, more free, more ma-tllre. Real prayer is not always pretty. It is a cry to God in anguish or anger. Real prayer is not dispassionate. It is a song of gladness and triumph. It purifies because it places before a loving Father, Son, and Holy Spirit both what is ngly and what is beautiful in one's life. Coupled with the response of the three divine Persons, it leads to dis-covery of one'~ self, freedom, maturity, and personal ful-fillment. Celibacy creates a condition which calls for snch prayer with special urgency. Snch prayer is necessary in every state of life, but it is especially necessary for the celibate if lie is to achieve personal maturity, for lie has excluded from his life the ordinary means of achieving that maturity through the intimate interpersonal rela-tionship of marriage. The second great potentiality for prayer in the celi-bate's life resides in the need to develop human friend-ships. Tills.potentiality for prayer will be considered in the second part of this article. The first part of this article considered the first great potentiality for prayer in the celibate life, namely, the need to develop an intimate, truly personal friendship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, analogous to the relationship which a man and woman have in marriage. The second great potentiality for prayer in the celibate life resides in the need to develop human friendships. We begin exploration of this potentiality by noting different kinds of fi'iendship in the celibate's life. The first sort of friendship is toward those people with whom the celibate ordinarily lives, works, and recreates. The second class is toward those few people with whom lie shares particular views, interests, and wdues. The third kind of friendship is toward those persons to whom he is strongly attracted because they especially satisfy his + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 605 + + + C. Kie~ling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 606 particnlar subjective needs for certain other persons in his life. In the case of the first sort of friendship, the name "friend" is used in a very broad sense. The "associate" expresses more literally the relationship wlficb the celi-bate has with people in this first class of friendship. These people are his associates in daily work, meals, rec-reation, and prayer. With them he shares some general views, interests, and values, and be "gets along" with them. His interaction with them provides some personal support and happiness, but they do not satisfy some of his deeper, unique, human, and personal needs. lu this first group is included a subclass of associates to whom the celibate relates only with difficulty, perhaps even in continual conflict. Bnt such people are not strangers to him nor he to them; they know one another better than they know the clerk at the store or the passen-ger they meet on the plane. They "associate" with one an-other daily or very fi'cqucntly in w~rious activities. Inter-action with these people plays an important role in the celibate's personal development and pursuit of happiness. The name "friend" applies quite well to people in the second class of friendship, though here we will call them "good friends" to distinguisla them from friends of the first and third kind. The celibate particularly enjoys the company of his good friends and feels especially at ease with them. He feels free to express to them his opinions ~n(l feelings about many things because he knows that they will be respected and accepted. Most of the time, with most of these people, however, be will not express his most intimate thoughts and feelings about some things, and especially abot, t himself and them. The bond here is not mutu;d attraction to, and interest in, one another, but particular views, interests, and values which they bold in common. Witbont some good friends, the celibate may find life difficult. He will more likefy feel the pain of loneliness which the first kind of friends, associates, only superfi-cially alleviates. It is even possible that without some good fiiends he may develop neurotic tendencies, for he will not express to sympathetic listeners many thoughts and feelings, especially of hostility or discouragement, that would better be brought out into the open, lest, being confined within, they produce depression or mor-bidity. "Friend" is a rather pallid name for people in the third class of fiiendship. These people we will call "close friends" to distinguish them from associates and good friends. From the first sort of friend, the celibate parts with equanimity and, in some cases, relief; fi'om the sec-ond sort, with regret; from the third, with great reluc- tance and even anguish. If a close friend suffers misfor-tune, the celibate's own life is upset, perhaps to distrac-tion and disorientation; he finds it difficult to go on tran-quilly with his ordinary duties. It is as if be himself suffered the misfortune. Close friends are most truly "other selves." The celibate is interested in his close friends, not simply in their views and values, but in them, their innermost thoughts and feelings, their physi-cal, mental, and spiritual welfare. To them he reveals his deepest thoughts and feelings, his doubts, convictions, and emotions, confident of their affection (not just re-spect) and their loyalty toward him. He is more or less emotionally involved with them. in them he finds fulfill-ment of his need for intimacy with persons. They are surrogates for the marriage partner which he has ex-cluded from his life. Sonie celibates cannot live well-balanced, full, and happy lives without one or more close friends. Others can, though they will lack sympathetic understanding for some experiences of the human heart. On tile other hand, every celibate's life can be imlnensely enriched by close friendship, even though lie may not absolutely need it for persoual maturity and contentment. The celibate's friends of all three kinds may be men or women. One and the same person may be a friend in one or more of these three ways. Thus the celibate may be strongly attracted to a member of his local community with whom he finds particular compatibility in likes and concerns. On tile other hand, he may find such compati-bility or such personal attraction or both in someone with whom lie rarely associates. This typology of friendships in the celibate's life has, of course, the limitations of every typology. It is an at-tempt to find some intelligible pattern in the infinite variety, complexity, and fluidity of life. Actual friend-ships will approximate one or another type, sometimes partaking of characteristics of more than oue type. The whole matter is complicated further in actual life by the fact that tile celibate and a certain friend may not re-spond to one another in the same class of friendship; lie may regard as a close frieud someone who looks upon him as simply a good friend. Hence one may find that one's own experiences of friendship do not fit neatly into this or that category of the typology that has been pre-sented. In spite of its inadequacies, this typology serves to sug-gest that some o~ the celibate's friendships will not be very problematic, while others will; some will evoke re-sponses from him beyond what be expects and is immedi-ately prepared for and thus will demand growth in per-sonal matnrity. Compatible associates and good friends + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 607 + ÷ C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 are usually taken for granted. They are lubricants, so to speak, which make the wheel of life turn easily. They do not make very great demands on the celibate but make it possible for him to bear with the demands of life which come from other sources. Relating to irritating associates or to close friends, on the other hand, is not easy. Relating to irritating associates is difficult because of the conflict of personalities. Relating to close friends is arduous because strong instinctual drives, powerful emo-tions, deep personal needs, and wish-fulfilling illusions are involved, and because the focus of attention is not the stable, objective mntual interests and activities shared by good friends, but the person of the close friend, a free agent, susceptible to moods, hence often falling short of expectations, and ultimately a mystery, as every human person is. In attempting to develop these two kinds of friendship, the celibate discovers his limitations and is driven toward prayer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for help. Hence these two sorts of friendship may be said to contain more conspicuous potentialities for growth in prayer than the other kinds of friendship. Actual instances of these two difficult sorts of friend-ship are infinitely varied by circumstances. The difficulty in relating to an annoying associate may be due to nor-real differences of temperament and character or to neu-rotic traits in one or both. The irritating associate may be a superior or a peer, or may be someone with whom the celibate lives elbow to elbow or someone with whom he deals only in his work. The person toward whom the celibate feels drawn in close friendship may be a man or woman, celibate, single, or married, frequently or only occasionally in his company. Becanse actual instances of these two kinds of friend-ship are so different fi'om one another, to speak of the potentialities for prayer in them in general would not be very helpful. Hence, we will restrict ourselves to explor-ing the potentialities for prayer in a close friendship of the (male) celibate with a woman, also dedicated to celi-bacy, whom he sees only occasionally; it will also be as-sumed that both persons are firm in their dedication to the celibate life. From this single instance, one can gain some idea of what it means to speak of the potentialities for prayer in friendship. One can then explore on one's own the possibilities for prayer in one's own difficult hnman relationships. In a close friendship of the kind stipulated, the celibate finds pleasure, satisfaction, and joy. Deep cisterns of sex-ual, human, and personal needs are filled to brimming with cool, fi'esh water. Life becomes extraordinarily beau-tiful in the present and rich in possibilities for the future. He marvels at the qualities he discovers, one after the other, in Iris friend and at the total uniqueness and mys-tery of her being. In her presence, life assumes a timeless, eternal quality. Particular words and actions are lost to view in the more comprehensive awareness of the inter-personal presence which they mediate; just being to-gether is more significant than anything said or done. Because of tiffs friendship, the whole of life and the world receive a new interpretation and meaning. A frequent form of prayer found in the Bible is praise of God in thanksgiving for his gifts of creation and salvation.4 The Bible contains countless joyful songs (Psahns and Canticles) in which God is praised and thanked by simply reciting in His presence the beauty and awesomeness of creation and His wonderful works of salvation on behalf of His people or individt, als. In the pleasure, satisfaction, and joy which the celibate finds in Iris friendship, there is inspiration for praise of God and thanksgiving to Him for what gives so much happy ful-fillment. As he rehearses to himself the wonderfulness of his experience and of the loved one--be can scarcely avoid doing tbis~he has only to place himself in the presence of God and add to his rehearsal, in a spirit of gratitude, acknowledgment to God for His gift. Knowing experientially what it means to break out in praise and thanksgiving to God for one gift so keenly appreciated, the celibate more readily values the prayers of praise and thanksgiving for other gifts of God (some of them, in the final analysis, far more itnportant than his friendship) which constitute so much of the liturgy. He welcomes a period of mental prayer, for it provides time to recount before God, in thankft, l praise, the joys of his friendship. But there is also the pain of separation--the anguish of parting and the ache of being apart. What does the cell bate do with this pain? He nnites it with the pain of Christ on the cross-and thus makes it, not an inexplicable dead-end, but redemptive and life-giving. He does this in tl~ought whenever be feels the pain with particular acute-hess, but be does it also when be offers himself to God in, with, and through Christ in His unique offering of Him-self and all mankind on Calvary rendered sacramentally present in the celebration of the Eucharist. The pain of separ~tion is grist [or the miil of t, nion with Christ in suffering and death, even as the joy of presence antici-pates the joy of sharing in the resurrection of Jesus. Through the pain and joy of friendship, the celibate ~Sce T. Worden, The Psalms Are Christian Prayer (New York: Sbccd and Ward, 1961), for an excellent analysis of tbc Psalms and other prayers in Scripture as basically praise (thanksgiving) or lamen-tation (petition, hope, confidence). Both kinds, especially the first, have been carried over into the Christian liturgy, with modifica-tions. Both arc exemplary for private prayer. ÷ ÷ + Celibacy VOLUME .:30, 1971 609 C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIE
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The study of International Relations is founded on a series of assumptions that originate in the monotheistic traditions of the West. For Siba Grovogui, this realization provoked him to question not only IR but to broaden his enquiries into a multidisciplinary endeavor that encompasses law and anthropology, journalism and linguistics, and is informed by stories and lessons from Guinea. In this Talk, he discusses the importance of human encounters and the problem with the Hegelian logic which distorts our understanding of our own intellectual development and the trajectory of the discipline of IR.
Print version of this Talk (pdf)
What is, according to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?
I don't want to be evasive, but I actually don't think that International Relations as a field has an object today. And that is the problem with International Relations since Martin Wight and Stanley Hoffmann and all of those people debated what International Relations was, whether it was an American discipline, etc. I believe you can look at International Relations in multiple ways: if you think of à la Hoffmann, as a tool of dominant power, International Relations is to this empire what anthropology was to the last. This not only has to do with the predicates upon which it was founded initially but with its aspirations, for International Relations shares with Anthropology the ambition to know Man—and I am using here a very antiquated language, but that is what it was then—to know Man in certain capacities. In the last empire, anthropology focused on the cultural dimension and, correspondingly separated culture from civilization in a manner that placed other regions of the world in subsidiarity vis-à-vis Europe and European empires. In the reigning empire, IR has focused on the management and administration of an empire that never spoke its name, reason, or subject.
Now you can believe all the stories about liberalism and all of that stuff, but although it was predicated upon different assumptions, the ambition is still the same: it is actually to know Man, the way in which society is organized, to know how the entities function, etc. If you look at it that way, then International Relations cannot be the extension of any country's foreign policy, however significant. This is not to say that the foreign policies of the big countries do not matter: it would be foolish not to study them and take them into account, because they have greater impact than smaller countries obviously. But International Relations is not—or should not be—the extension of any country's foreign policy, nor should it be seen as the agglomeration of a certain restricted number of foreign policies. International Relations suggests, again, interest in the configurations of material, moral, and symbolic spaces as well as dynamics resulting from the relations of moral and social entities presumed to be of equal moral standings and capacities.
If one sees it that way then we must reimagine what International Relations should be. Foreign policy would be an important dimension of it, but the field of foreign policy must be understood primarily in terms of its explanations and justifications—regardless of whether these are bundled up as realism, liberalism, or other. Today, these fields provide different ways of explaining to the West, for itself, as a rational decision, or a justification to the rest, that what it has done over the past five centuries, from conquest to colonization and slavery and colonialism, is 'natural' and that any political entities similarly situated would have done it in that same manner. It follows therefore that this is how things should be. Those justifications, explanations, and rationalizations of foreign policy decisions and events are important to understand as windows into the manners in which certain regions and political entities have construed value, interest, and ethics. But they still belong, in some significant way, to a different domain than what is implied by the concept of IR.
I am therefore curious about the so-called debates about the nature of politics and the proper applicable science or approach to historical foreign policy realms and domains, particularly those of the West: I don't consider those debates to be 'big debates' in International Relations, because they are really about how the West sees itself and justifies itself and how it wants to be seen, and thus as rational. For the West (as assumed by so-called Western scholars), these debates extend the tradition of exculpating the West and seeing the West as the regenerative, redemptive, and progressive force in the world. All of that language is about that. So when you say to me, what are the debates, I don't know what they are, so far, really, in International Relations. The constitution of the 'international', the contours and effects of the imaginaries of its constituents, and the actualized and attainable material and symbolic spaces within it to realize justice, peace, and a sustainable order have thus far eluded the authoritative disciplinary traditions.
Consider the question of China today, as it is posed in the West. The China question, too, emerges from a particular foreign policy rationale, which may be important and particular ways to some people or constituencies in the West but not in the same way to others, for instance in Africa. The narrowness of the framing of the China question is why in the West many are baffled about how Africa has been receiving China, and China's entry into Latin America, etc. In relation to aid, for instance, if you are an African of a certain age, or you know some history, you will know that China formulated its foreign aid policy in 1964 and that nothing has changed. And there are other elements, such as foreign intervention and responsibility to self and others where China has had a distinct trajectory in Africa.
In some regard, China may even be closer in outlook to postcolonial African states than the former colonial powers. For instance, neither China nor African states consider the responsibility to protect, to be essentially Western. In this regard, it is worth bearing in mind for instance that Tanzania intervened in Uganda to depose Idi Amin in 1979; Vietnam ended the Khmer Rouge tyranny in Cambodia in 1979; India intervened in Bangladesh in 1971—it wasn't the West. So those kinds of understandings of responsibility, in the way they are framed today in the post-Cold War period, superimposes ideas of responsibility that were already there and were formulated in Bandung in 1955: differences between intervention and interference, the latter of which today comes coded as regime change, were actually hardly debated. So our imaginaries of the world and how it works, of responsibility, of ethics, etc., have always had to compete with those that were formulated since the seventeenth century in Europe, as "international ethics", "international law", "international theory". And in fact that long history full of sliding concepts and similar meanings may be one of the problems for understanding how the world came into being as we know it today. And this is why actually my classes here always begin with a semester-long discussion of hermeneutics, of historiography, and of ethnography in IR and how they have been incorporated.
How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?
I came to where I am now essentially because of a sense of frustration, that we have a discipline that calls itself "international" and yet seemed to be speaking either univocally or unidirectionally: univocally in imagining the world and unidirectionally in the way it addresses the rest of the world, and a lot of problems result from that.
I had trained as a lawyer in Guinea, and when I came to the US I imagined that International Relations would be taught at law school, which is the case in France, most of the time, and also in some places in Germany in the past, because it is considered a normative science there. But when I came here I was shocked to discover that it was going to be in a field called Political Science, but I went along with it anyway. In the end I did a double major: in law, at the law school in Madison, Wisconsin, and in political science. When I came to America and went the University of Wisconsin, I first took a class called "Nuclear Weapons and World Politics" or something of the sort, it was more theology and less science. It was basically articulated around chosen people and non-chosen people, those who deserve to have weapons and those who don't. There was no rationale, no discussion of which countries respected the Non-Proliferation Treaty, no reasoning in terms of which countries had been wiser than others in using weapons of mass destruction, etc.: there was nothing to it except the underlying, intuitive belief that if something has to be done, we do it and other people don't. I'm being crass here, but let's face it: this was a course I took in the 1980s and it is still the same today! So I began to feel that this is really more theology and less science. Yes, it was all neatly wrapped in rationalism, in game theory, all of these things. So I began to ask myself deeper questions, outside of the ones they were asking, so my Nuclear Weapons and World Politics class was really what bothered me, or you could say it was some kind of trigger.
This way of seeing IR is related to the fact that I don't share the implicit monotheist underpinnings of the discipline. That translates into my perhaps unorthodox teaching style, unorthodox within American academia anyway. Teaching all too often tends to be less about understanding the world and more about proselytizing. In order to try to explore this understanding I like to bring my students to consider the world that has existed, to imagine that sovereignty and politics can be structured differently, especially outside of monotheism with its likening of the sovereign to god, the hierarchy modeled on the church, Saint Peter, Jesus, God, uniformity and the power of life (to kill or let live), and to understand that there have always been places where the sovereign was not in fact that revered. Think of India, for example, where people have multiple gods, and some are mischievous, some are promiscuous, some are happy and some are mean, so there are lots of conceptions and some of these don't translate well into different cultural contexts. The same, incidentally, goes for the Greek gods. Of course, we had to make the Greeks Christians first, before we drew our lineage to them. You see what I mean? Christianity left a very deep impact on Western traditions. Whether you think of political parties and a parallel to the Catholic orders: if you are a Jesuit, the Jesuits are always right; if you are a Franciscan, the Franciscans are always right. The Franciscans for instance think they have the monopoly on Christian social teaching. In a similar way, it doesn't matter what your political party does, you follow whatever your party says. The same thing happens when you study: are you a realist, are you liberalist, etc. You are replicating the Jesuits, the Franciscans, those monks and their orders. But we are all caught within that logic, of tying ourselves into one school of thought and going along with one "truth" over another, instead of permitting multiple takes on reality..
For me, as a non-monotheist myself, everything revolves around this question of truth: whether truth is given or has to be found and how we find it. Truth has to be found, discovered, revealed—we have to continuously search. The significant point is that we never find it absolutely. Truth is always provisional, circumstantial, and pertinent to a context or situation. We all want truth and it is always evading us, but we must look for it. But I don't think that truth is given. It is in the Bible, the Quran, and the Torah. And I am comfortable with that but I am not in the realm of theology. I dwell on human truths and humans are imperfect and not omniscient, at least not so individually.
If I had the truth, then I might be one of those dictators governing in Africa today. I was raised a Catholic by the way, I almost went to the seminary. If you just think through the story of the Revelation in profane terms, you come to the realization that ours are multiple revelations. Again in theology, one truth is given at a time—the Temple Mount, the Tablets, and all that stuff—but that is not in our province. I leave that to a different province and that is unattainable to me. The kind of revelation I want is the one that goes through observing, through looking, through deliberating, through inquiry—that I am comfortable with. There can be a revelation in terms of meeting the unexpected, for example: when I went to the New World, to Latin America for the first time, I said, 'wow, this is interesting'. That was through my own senses, but it had a lot to do with the way I prepared myself in order to receive the world and to interact with the world. That kind of revelation I believe in. The other one is beyond me and I'm not interested in that. When I want to be very blasphemous, even though I was raised a Catholic, I tell my students: the problem with the Temple Mount is that God did not have a Twitter account, so the rest of us didn't hear it—we were not informed. I don't have the truth, and I don't really don't want to have it.
What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the world in a global way?
I am not sure I want to make a canonical recommendation, if that's what you are asking me for. Let me tell you this: I have trained about eleven PhD students, and none of them has ever done what I do. I am not interested in having clones, I don't want to recreate theology, and in fact I feel this question to betray a very Western disposition, by implying the need to create canons and theology. I don't want that. What I want is to understand the world, and understanding can be done in multiple ways: people do it through music, through art, through multiple things. The problem for me, however, is actually the elements, assumptions, predicates of studies and languages that we use in IR, the question to whom they make sense—I am talking about the types of ethnographies, the ways in which we talk about diplomatic history, and all of those things. The graduate courses that I was talking about have multiple dimensions, but there are times in my seminars here where I just take a look at events like what happened in the New World from 1492 to 1600. This allows me to talk about human encounters. The ones we have recorded, of people who are mutually unintelligible, are the ones that took place on this continent, the so-called New World. And what this does is that it allows me to talk about encounters, to talk about all of the possibilities—you know the ones most people talk about in cultural studies like creolization, hybridization, and all those things—and all of the others things that happened also which are not so helpful, such as violence, usurpation, and so forth.
What that allows me to do is to cut through all this nonsense—yes I am going to call it nonsense—that projects the image that what we do today goes back to Thucydides and has been handed down to us through history to today. There are many strands of thought like that. If you think about thought, and Western thought in general, all of those historically rooted and contingent strands of thought have something to do with how we construct social scientific fields of analysis today—realism, liberalism, etc.—so I'm not dispensing with that. What I'm saying is that history itself has very little to do with those strands of thought, and that people who came here—obviously you had scientists who came to the New World—but the policies on the ground had nothing to do with Thucydides, nothing to do with Machiavelli, etc. Their practices actually had more to do with the violence that propelled those Europeans from their own countries in seeking refuge, and how that violence shaped them, the kind of attachments they had. But it also had to do with the kind of cultural disposition here, and the manner in which people were able to cope, or not. Because that's where we are today in the post-Cold War era, the age of globalization, we must provide analyses that are germane to how the constituents (or constitutive elements) of the historically constituted 'international' are coping with our collective inheritance. For me, this approach is actually much more instructive. This has nothing to do with the Melian Dialogue and the like.
All of the stuff projected today as canonical is interesting to me but only in limited ways. I actually read the classics and have had my students read them, but try to get my students to read them as a resource for understanding where we are today and how we were led there, rather than as a resource for justifying or legitimating the manner in which European conducted their 'foreign' policies or their actions in the New World. No. I know enough to know that no action in the New World or elsewhere was pre-ordained, unavoidable, or inevitable. The resulting political entities in the West must assume the manners in which they acted. It is history, literally. And of course we know through Voltaire, we know through Montaigne, we know even through Roger Bacon, that even in those times people realized that in fact the world had not been made and hence had not been before as it would become later; that other ways were (and still) are possible; and that the pathologies of the violence of religious and civil wars in Europe conditioned some the behaviours displayed in the New World and Africa during conquest and enslavement.
For the same reason I recommend students to read Kant: I tell them to read Kant as a resource for understanding how we might think about the world today, but I am compelled to say often to my students that before Kant, hospitality, and such cultural intermediaries as theDragomans in the Ottoman Empire, the Wangara in West Africa, the Chinese Diaspora in East and Southeast Asia, and so forth, enabled commerce across continents for centuries before Europe was included into the existing trading networks. This is not to dismiss Kant, it is simply to force students to put Kant in conversation with a different trajectory of the development of commercial societies, cross-regional networks, and the movements to envisage laws, rules, and ethics to enable communications among populations and individual groups.
This approach causes many people to ask whether the IR programme at Johns Hopkins really concerns IR theory or something else. I actually often get those kinds of questions, and they are wedded to particular conceptions of IR. I am never able to give a fixed and quick answer but I often illustrate points that I wish to make. Consider how scholars and policymakers relate the question of sovereignty to Africa. Many see African sovereignty as problem, either because they think it is abused or stands in the way of humanitarian or development actions by supposed well-meaning Westerners. I attempt to have my students think twice when sovereignty is evoked in that way: 'sovereignty is a problem; the extents to which sovereignty is a problem in Africa; and why sovereignty is unproblematic in Europe or America'. This questioning and bracketing is not simply a 'postmodernist' evasion of the question.
Rather, I invite my students to reconsider the issue: if sovereignty is your problem, how do you think about the problem? For me, this is a much more interesting question; not what the problem is. For instance, if you start basing everything around a certain mythology of the Westphalia model, particularly when you begin to see everything as either conforming to it (the good) or deviating from it (the bad), then you have lost me. Because before Westphalia there were actually many ways in which sovereigns understood themselves, and therefore organized their realms, and how sovereignty was experienced and appreciated by its subjects. Westphalia is a crucial moment in Europe in these regards—I grant you that. If you want to say what is wrong with Westphalia, that's fine too. But if Westphalia is your starting point, the discussion is unlikely to be productive to me. Seriously!
In your work on political identity in Africa, such as your contribution to the 2012 volume edited by Arlene Tickner and David Blaney, the terms periphery, margin, lack of historicity recur frequently. What regional or perhaps even global representational protagonism can you envisage for IR studies emerging from Africa and its spokespeople?
The subjects of 'periphery' and 'marginalization' come into my own thinking from multiple directions. One of them has to do with the African state and the kind of subsidiarity it has assumed from the colonization onward. That's a critique of the state of affairs and a commentary on how Africa is organized and is governed. But I do also use it sometimes as a direct challenge to people who think they know the world. And my second book, Beyond Eurocentrism and Anarchy (2006), was actually about that, and that book was triggered by an account of an event in Africa, that everybody in African Studies has repeated and still continues to repeat, which is this: in June 1960, Africans went to defend France, because France asked them to. This is to say that nobody could imagine that Africans—and I am being careful here in terms of how people describe Africans—understood that they had a stake in the 'world' under assault during World War II. And so the book actually begins with a simple question: in 1940, which France would have asked Africans to defend it: Vichy France which was under German control, or the Germans who occupied half of France? But the decision to defend France actually came partly from a discussion between French colonial officers in Chad and African veterans of World War I, who decided that the world had to be restructured for Africa to find its place in it. They didn't do it for France, because it's a colonial power, they did it for the world. That's the thing. And Pétain, to his credit, is the only French official who asked the pertinent question about that, in a letter to his minister of justice (which is an irony, because justice under Pétain was a different question) he said: 'I am puzzled, that in 1918 when we were victorious, Africans rebelled; in 1940, we are defeated, and they come to our aid. Could you explain that to me?' The titular head of Vichy had the decency to ask that. By contrast, every scholar of Africa just repeated, 'Oh, the French asked Africans to go fight, and the Africans showed up'.
Our inability to understand that Africa actually sees itself as a part of the world, as a manager of the world, has so escaped us today that in the case of Libya for instance, when people were debating, you saw in every single newspaper in the world, including my beloved Guardian, that the African Union decided this, but the International Community decided that, as if Africans had surrendered their position in the international society to somebody: to the International Community. People actually said that! The AU, for all its 'wretchedness', after all represents about a quarter of the member states of the UN. And yet it was said the AU decided this and the International Community decided that. The implication is that the International Community is still the West plus Japan and maybe somebody else, and in this case it was Qatar and Saudi Arabia: "good citizens of the world", very "good democracies" etc. That's how deeply-set that is, that people don't even check themselves. Every time they talk they chuck Africa out of the World. Nobody says, America did this and the International Community decided that. All I am saying is that our mindscapes are so deeply structured that nothing about Africa can be studied on its own, can be studied as something that has universal consequence, as something that has universal value, as something that might be universalizing—that institutions in Africa might actually have some good use to think about anything. Otherwise, people would have asked them how did colonial populations—people who were colonized—overcome colonial attempts to strip them of their humanity and extend an act of humanity, of human solidarity, to go fight to defend them? And what was that about? Even many Africans fail to ask that question today!
And it could be argued that this thinking is, to some degree, down to widespread ignorance about Africa. We all are guilty of this. And oddly, especially intellectuals are guilty of this, and worse. Let me give you an example: recently I was in Tübingen in Germany, and I went into a store to buy some shoes—a very fine store, wonderful people—and I can tell you I ended up having a much more rewarding conversation with the people working in the shoe shop than I had at Tübingen University. Because there was a real curiosity. You would like to think that it is not so unusual in this day and age that a person from Guinea teaches in America, but you cannot blame them for being curious and asking many questions. At the university, in contrast, they actually are making claims, and for me that is no longer ignorance, that is hubris.
Your work presents an original take on the role of language in International Relations. How is language tied up with IR theory?
The language problem has many, many layers. The first of these is, simply, the issue of translation. If I were, for instance, to talk to someone in my father's language about Great Power Responsibility, they would look totally lost. Because in Guinea we have been what white people call stateless or acephalous societies, the notion that one power should have responsibility for another is a very difficult concept to translate, because you are running up against imaginaries of power, of authority, etc. that simply don't exist. So when you talk about such social scientific categories to those people, you have to be aware of all the colonial era enlightenment inheritances in them. When we talk about International Relations in Africa, we thus bump into a whole set of problems: the primary problem of translating ideas from here into those languages; another in capturing what kind of institutions exist in those languages; and a third issue has to do with how you translate across those languages. Consider for instance the difference between Loma stateless societies in the rain forest in Guinea, and Malinke who are very hierarchical, especially since SundiataKeita came to power in the 13th century. But the one problem most people don't talk about is the very one that is obsessing me now, is the question how I, as an African, am able to communicate with you through Kant, without you assuming that I am a bad reader of Kant.
The difference that I am trying to make here is actually what in linguistics is called vehicular language which is distinct from vernacular language. Because a lot of you assume that vehicular language is vernacular—that there is Latin and the rest is vernacular; that there is a proper reading of Kant and everything else is vernacular; or you have cosmopolitan and perhaps afropolitan and everything else is the vernacular of it. But this is not in fact always the case. The most difficult thing for linguists to understand, and for people in the social sciences to understand, is that Kant, Hegel and other thinkers can avail themselves as resources that one uses to try to convey imaginaries that are not always available to others—or to Kant himself for that matter. And it is not analogical—it is not 'this is the African Machiavelli'. It is easy to talk about power using Machiavelli, but to smuggle into Machiavelli different kind of imaginaries is more difficult. Nonetheless, I use Machiavelli because there is no other language available to me to convey that to you, because you don't speak my father's language.
Moreover, there is a danger for instance when I speak with my students that they may hear Machiavelli even when I am not speaking of him, and I warn them to be very careful. Machiavelli is a way to bring in a different stream of understanding of Realpolitik, but it's not entirely Machiavelli. If you spoke my father's language, I would tell you in my father's language, but that is not available to me here, so Machiavelli is a vehicle to talk about something else. Sometimes people might say to me 'what you are saying sounds to me like Kant but it's not really Kant' then I remind them that before Kant there were actually a lot of people who talked about the sublime, the moral, the categorical imperative, etc. in different languages; and if you are patient with me then we will get to the point when Kant belongs to a genealogy of people who talked about certain problems differently, and in that context Kant is no longer a European: I place Kant in the context of people who talk about politics, morality, etc. differently and I want to offer you a bunch of resources and please, please don't package me, because you don't own the interpretation of Kant, because even in your own context in Europe today Kant is not your contemporary, so you are making a lot of translations and I am making a lot of translations to get to something else: it is not that I am not a bad reader.
At an ISA conference I once was attacked by a senior colleague in IR for being a bad reader of Hegel, and I had to explain to him that while my using Hegel might be an act of imposition, and a result of having been colonized and given Hegel, but at this particular moment he should consider my gesture as an act of generosity, in the sense that I was reading Hegel generously to find resources that would allow him to understand things that he had no idea exist out there, and Hegel is the only tool available to me at this moment. But because all of you believe in one theology or another, he insisted that if I spoke Hegelian then I was Hegelian, and I retorted that I was not, but that deploying Hegel was merely an instance of vehicular language, allowing me to explore certain predicates, certain precepts and assumptions, and that is all. In this way, I can use Kant, or Hegel, or Hobbes, or Locke, and my problem when I do this is not with those thinkers—I can ignore the limitations of their thinking which was conditioned by the realities of their time—my problem is with those people who think they own traditions originating from long dead European thinkers. Thus, my problem today is less with Kant than with Kantians.
Or take Hobbes: Hobbes talked about the body in the way that it was understood in his time, and about human faculties in the way that they were understood at that time. Anybody who quotes Hobbes today about the faculties of human nature, I have to ask: when was the last time you read biology? I am not saying that Hobbes wasn't a very smart man; he was an erudite, and I am not joking. It is not his problem that people are still trivializing human faculties and finding issue with his view of how the body works—of course he was wrong on permeability, on cohabitation, on what organs live in us, etc.—he was giving his account of politics through metaphors and analogies that he understood at that time. When I think about it this way, my problem is not that Hobbes didn't have a modern understanding of the body, the distribution of the faculties and the extent of human capacities. Nor is my problem that Hobbes is Western. My problem is not with Hobbes himself. My problem is with all these realists who based their understanding of sovereignty or borders strictly on Hobbes' illustrations but have not opened a current book on the body that speaks of the faculties. If they did, even their own analogies may begin to resonate differently. There is new research coming out all the time on how we can understand the body, and this should have repercussions on how we read Hobbes today.
The absence of contextualization and historicization has proved a great liability for IR. Historicity allows one to receive Hobbes and all those other writers without indulging in mindless simplicities. It helps get away from simplistic divisions of the world—for instance, the West here and Africa there—from the assumptions that when I speak about postcolonialism in Africa I must be anti-Western. I am in fact growing very tired of those kinds of categories. As a parenthesis, I must ask if some of those guys in IR who speak so univocally and unidirectionally to others are even capable of opening themselves up to hearing other voices. I must also reveal that Adlai Stevenson, not some postcolonialist, alerted me to the problem of univocality when he stated in 1954 during one UN forum that 'Everybody needed aid, the West surely needs a hearing aid'. Hearing is indeed the one faculty that the West is most in need of cultivating. The same, incidentally, could be said of China nowadays.
One of the things I would like to deny Western canonist is their inclination to think of the likes of Diderot as Westerners. In his Supplément au Voyage a Bougainville (1772), Diderot presents a dialogue between himself and Orou, a native Tahitian. Voltaire wrote dialogues, some real, some imaginary, about and with China. The authors' people were reflecting on the world. It is hubris and an act of usurpation in the West today to want to lay claim to everything that is perceived to be good for the West. By the same token that which is bad must come from somewhere else. This act of usurpation has led to the appropriation—or rather internal colonization—of Diderot and Voltaire and like-minded philosophers and publicists who very much engaged the world beyond their locales. I have quarrels with this act of colonization, of the incipit parochialization of authors who ought not to be. I have quarrels with Voltaire's characterization of non-Europeans at times; but I have a greater quarrel with how he has been colonized today as distinctly European. Voltaire rejected European orthodoxies of his day and opted explicitly to enter into dialogue with Chinese and Africans as he understood them. Diderot, too, was often in dialogue with Tahitians and other non-Europeans. In fact, the relationship between Diderot and the Tahitian was exactly the same as the relationship between Socrates and Plato, in that you have an older person talking and a younger person and less wise person listening. A lot of Western philosophy and political theory was actually generated—at least in the modern period—after contact with the non-West. So how that is Western I don't know. I encounter the same problem when I am in Africa where I am accused of being Western just because I make the same literary references. It is a paradox today that even literature is assigned an identity for the purpose of hegemony and/or exclusion. Francis Galton (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Galton) travelled widely and wrote dialogues from this expedition in Africa, so how can we say to what extent the substance of such dialogues was Western or British?
So in sum you are not trying to counter Western thought, but do you feel that the African political experience and your own perspective can bring something new to IR studies?
I am going to try and express something very carefully here, because the theory of the state in Africa brought about untold horrors—in Sierra Leone, in Liberia, and so on—so I am not saying this lightly. But I have said to many people, Africans and non-Africans, that I am glad that the postcolonial African state failed, and I wish many more of them failed, and I'm sure a lot more will fail, because they correspond to nothing on the ground. The idea of constitutions and constitutionalism came with making arrangements with a lot of social elements that were generated by certain entities that aspired to go in certain directions. What happened in Africa is that somebody came and said: 'this worked there, it should work here'—and it doesn't. I'll give you three short stories to illustrate this.
One of the presidents of postcolonial Guinea, the one I despise the most, Lansana Conté (in office 1984-2008), also gave me one of my inspirational moments. Students rebelled against him and destroyed everything in town and so he went on national TV that day and said: 'You know I'm very disheartened. I am disheartened about children who have become Europeans.' Obviously the blame would be on Europe. He continued, 'They are rude, they don't respect people or property. I understand that they may have quarrels with me, but I also understand that we are Africans. And though we may no longer live in the village', and it is important for me that he said that, 'though we may no longer live in the village, when we move in the big city, the council of elders is what parliament does for us now. We don't have the council of elders, instead we have parliament. They, the students, can go to parliament and complain about their father. I am their father, my children are older than all of them. So in the village, they would have gone to the council of elders, and they could have done this and I would have given them my explanation'. And the next morning, the whole country turned against the students, because what he had succeeded in doing was to touch and move people. They went to the head of the student government, who said: 'The president was right. We had failed to understand that our ways cannot be European ways, and we can think about our modern institutions as iterations of what we had in the past, suited to our circumstances, and so we should not do politics in the same way. I agree with him, and in that spirit I want to say that among the Koranko ethnic group, fathers let their children eat meat first, because they have growing needs, and if the father doesn't take care of his children, then they take the children away from the father and give them to the uncle. Our problem at the university is that our stipends are not being paid, and father has all his mansions in France, in Spain, and elsewhere, so we want the uncle.' He was in effect asking for political transition: he was saying they were now going to the council of elders, the parliament, and demand the uncle, for father no longer merits being the father. He was able to articulate political transition and rotation in that language. It was a very clever move.
The second one was my mother who was completely unsympathetic to me when I came home one day and was upset that one of my friends who was a journalist had been arrested. She said, 'if you wish you can go back to your town but don't come here and bother me and be grumpy'. So I started an exchange with her and explained to her why it is important that we have journalists and why they should be free, until our discussion turned to the subject of speaking truth to power. At that moment she said, 'now you are talking sense' and she started to tell me how the griot functioned in West Africa for the past eight hundred years, and why truth to power is part of our institutional heritage. But that truth is not a personal truth, for there is an organic connection between reporter and the community, there is a group in which they collect information, communicate and criticize, and we began to talk about that. And since then I have stopped teaching Jefferson in my constitutional classes in Africa, as a way of talking about the free press, instead I talk about speaking truth to power. But it allows me not only to talk about the necessity of speaking truth to power, but also to criticize the organization of the media, which is so individualised, so oriented toward the people who give the money: think of the National Democratic Institute in Washington, the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung in Germany, they have no organic connection to the people. And my mother told me, 'as long as it's a battle between those who have the guns and those who have the pen, then nobody is speaking to my problems, then I have no dog in that fight'. And journalists really make a big mistake by not updating their trade and redressing it. Because speaking truth to power is not absent in our tradition, we have had it for eight hundred years, six centuries before Jefferson, but we don't think about it that way. I have to remind my friends in Guinea: 'you are vulnerable precisely because you have not understood what the profession of journalism might look like in this community, to make your message more relevant and effective'. You see the smart young guys tweeting away and how they have been replaced by the Muslim Brotherhood, because we have not made the message relevant to the community. We are communicating on media and in idioms that have no real bearing on people's lives, so we are easily dismissed. That is in fact the tragedy of what happened in Tunisia: the smart, young protesters have so easily been brushed aside for this reason.
The third story is about how we had a constitutional debate in Guinea before multipartism, and people were talking about the separation of powers. And I went to the university to talk to a group of people and I put it to them: why do you waste your time studying the American Constitution and the separation of powers in America? I grant you, it is a wonderful experiment and it has lasted two hundred years, but that would not lead you anywhere with these people. The theocratic Futa Jallon in Guinea (in the 18th and 19th centuries) had one of the most advanced systems of separation of powers: the king was in Labé, the constitution was in Dalaba, the people who interpreted the constitution were in yet another city, the army was based in Tougué. It was the most decentralised organization of government you can imagine, and all predicated on the idea that none of the nine diwés, or provinces, should actually have the monopoly of power. So those that kept the constitution were not allowed to interpret it, because the readers were somewhere else. But to make sure that what they were reading was the right document, they gave it to a different province. So the separation of powers is not new to us.
In sum, the West is a wonderful political experiment, and it has worked for them. We can actualize some of what they have instituted, but we have sources here that are more suited to the circumstances of the people in that region, without undermining the modern ideas of democratic self-governance, without undermining the idea of a republic. Without dispensing with all of those, we must not be tempted to imagine constitution in the same way, to imagine separation of powers in the same way, even to imagine and practice journalism in the same way, in this very different environment. It is going to fail. That is my third story.
Siba N. Grovogui has been teaching at Johns Hopkins University after holding the DuBois-Mandela postdoctoral fellowship of the University of Michigan-Ann Arbor in 1989-90 and teaching at Eastern Michigan University from 1993 to 1995. He is currently professor of international relations theory and law at The Johns Hopkins University. He is the author of Sovereigns, Quasi-Sovereigns, and Africans: Race and Self-determination in International Law (University of Minnesota Press, 1996) and Beyond Eurocentrism and Anarchy: Memories of International Institutions and Order (Palgrave, April 2006). He has recently completed a ten-year long study partly funded by the National Science Foundation of the rule of law in Chad as enacted under the Chad Oil and Pipeline Project.
Related links
Faculty Profile at Johns Hopkins University Read Grovogui's Postcolonial Criticism: International Reality and Modes of Inquiry (2002 book chapter) here (pdf) Read Grovogui's The Secret Lives of Sovereignty (2009 book chapter) here (pdf) Read Grovogui's Counterpoints and the Imaginaries Behind Them: Thinking Beyond North American and European Traditions (2009 contribution to International Political Sociology) here (pdf) Read Grovogui's Postcolonialism (2010 book chapter) here (pdf) Read Grovogui's Sovereignty in Africa: Quasi-statehood and Other Myths (2001 book chapter in a volume edited by Tim Shaw and Kevin Dunn) here (pdf)
Issue 13.1 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; A. M.D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1954 Apparitions and Revelations . Aucjusffne ~. Ellard Screening of Candidates . WilliemC. Bier ¯Reading for Religious . Edward F. ~aresch6 Aurelian Spirituality . Sister Mary of Carmel Book Reviews Questions and Answers Communications VOLUME XIII NUMBER 1 RI VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIII JANUARY, 1954 NU/vlBER 1 CONTENTS APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS: ATTITUDES TOWARD THEM Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. 3 PRACTICAL REQUIREMENTS OF A PROGRAM FOR THE PSY-CHOLOGICAL SCREENING OF CANDI-DATES- William C. Bier. S.J .13 COMMUNICATIONS . 27 READING FOR RELIGIOUS---Edward F. GareschL S.J .2.9. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS . 34 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY~ister Mary of Carmel, R.P.B .3.5. "APPARITIONS" OF OUR LADY . 45 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS . 46 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Spiritfiality of St. Ignatius Loyola . 47 BOOK NOTICI~S . - . 48 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 49 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Special Confessor for Individual Sister .53 2. Special Spiritual Director, Not Confessor .53 3. Blessing by Mother Superior' . . 54 4. Successive Terms in Different Houses .54 5. Length of Years in Office for Superior General .55 6. Terms of Office for Superior General . 55 VOCATION INSTITUTE . 56 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1954. Vol. XIII, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, Ma~ch, 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: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, 8.3. Copyright, 1954, 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 wrltlncj to us. please consult notice on Inside back cover. Review for Religious Volume XIII January--December, 1954 Published a÷ THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is in~lexe¢l in the GATHOLIG PERIODIGAL INDEX Apparit:ions and Revelat:ions: At:t:it:udes t:oward Them Augustine G. Ell~ird, S.J. ASIDE perhaps from fully cloistered nuns, one could hardly be so ill informed about what is going on in Catholic circles as not to notice how often in recent years apparitions and reve-lations from heaven have been reported and what a great stir they make among the people. Troublesome times were always wont to bring, forth a multi-tude of such prodigies. Our days, after the two world wars, the attacks of communism, the threats of atomic catastrophes, and all the disturbing effects of these great movements, are unsettled in a high degree. Moreover--a point in which we differ markedly from previous generations--the means of communication now are so fast and far-reaching that any extraordinary occurrence can become known almost immediately throughout the widest areas. One might suppose that in our enlightened and skeptical and materialistic century a rumor of marvelous happenings would create doubt and cynicism rather than eager enthusiasm to participate in whatever appears supernatural. The contrary, however, seems really to be the fact. At least in one case the excitement became so great and disor-dered that it was necessary for tbe ecclesiastical authorities to launch an excommunication against tbose who were letting their feelings run away with their reason (Heroldsbach, near Bamberg, Germany: nineteen persons were excommunicated: July, 1952). Throughout the whole Catholic world there seemed to be so much excessive credulity toward reported celestial visitations that it was felt im-perative to publish an emphatic warning in the semi-official paper of the Holy See, L'Osseruatore Roneano (February 3, 1951). Some of the best-known of these real or alleged celestial interventions are listed on pages 45-46 of this number of the REVIEW. If one is to distinguish true from false and to preserve an intel-ligent and balanced attitude toward what he hears recounted, it is necessary to have some little acquaintance with what a well-instructed Catholic should think about apparitions and revelations. AUGUSTINE G. }~LLARD ¯Importance of the Right Attitude The importance of taking the proper attitude toward apparitions and revelations can be very great. If Christ our Lord should deign to appear and speak to one, it is clear that He should be received and heard with the great.est rever-ence. Simi!arly if some other person from heaven, say the Blessed Virgin, should honor one with a visit or message, one ought to re-spond with becoming respect and gratitude. God would be singling one out individually for a favor, and even working a miracle to cbnvey it. If the apparitions and revelations be objective and one's reaction right, they sometimes turn out to be the most significant graces for one's own personal sanctification. On the other h.and, one can also make poor use of them, or even let oneself become, the dupe of hal-lucinations, and then the evil consequences can be disastrous. Good Effects The lives of the saints are full of examples of favors of this kind that led later on to other and greater graces. To say nothing of St. Paul's experience on the road to Damascus--because one might argue that it was not merely a private apparltion--we could instance such cases as the following. St. Teresa of Avila experienced very many visions and revela-tions and was much helped by them in becoming the great saint and apostle that she was. Once she beheld a seraph lancing a fiery dart into her heart and she heard Christ Himself ~ay, "In future you will be jealous, for My honor not only because I am your creator and your king, but as My true spouse. My honor is yours: your honor is Mine." Such an experience could not but have a most potent in-fluence upon her subsequent spiritual development. Referring to a number of her visions, she wrote: "I could never regret baying seen these heavenly visions and I would not exchange them for all the good things and delights of this world. I always considered them a great favor from the Lord, and I think they were the greatest of treasures; often the Lord Himself would reassure me about them. I found my love growing exceedingly" (Life, chap. 19: Peers's translation of the Comptete~ Works of St. Teresa, I, 188). St. Catherine of Siena could not be formally and visibly espoused to Christ with a ring and other ceremonies withou,t being powerfully stimulated to advance in sanctity and in the service of 4 danuarg, 19~¥ APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS the Church. A succession of visions helped Joseph of Cupertino, the great Italian Franciscan miracle-worker of the seventeenth cen-tury, to become the incredible .saint that he was. Several of the great religious, orders are indebted in greater or lesser measure for their origin, or at least for their actual historical course of development, to" apparitions and revelations. Saudre~u lists numerous.examples of this fact (L'Etat M~tstique, 1921, p. 221). It is said that the confirmations of both the Franciscan and the Dominican orders were owing in part to visions granted to Pope Innocent III. When St. Francis asked for approbation for his nascent order, the Pope seemed unwilling to give it, and many ~of the cardinals were actively opposed to the move. Then the Pope had a dream in which Francis appeared supporting the Lateran Church which seemed to be in danger of collapsing. Something similar hap-pened five years later in favor of St. Dominic and his order. Ac-cording to t~adition, the founders of the Servite order (seven young men of Florence, in the early part of the thirteenth century) had a vision of the Blessed Virgin and were inspired by her to give tip the secular life and devote themselves to God ,exclusively. Later on, in another vi.sion, she gave them their habit, their name, and an indi-cation as to what rule they should adopt. ' The history of the Church, especially of its devotional life, abundantly illustrates what a mighty influence apparitions and revelations can have for the faithful generally. Outstanding instances that occur to the mind at once are the mission of St. Juliana of Liege (i 193-1258) in bringing about the institution of the solem-nity of Corpus Christi; St. Simon Stock (c. 1165-1265) and the devotion of the scapular; the apparitions of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary and the tremendous force now of the cultus of the Sacred Heart; Lourdes and all the pilgrimages to that shrine; and lastly, Fatima and the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Without apparitions and revelations there .would have been no St. Jeanne d'Arc; without her, Frefich and European history would be very different. Owing in part at least to a special revelation St. Catherine of Siena was able to induce Pope Gregory XI to re-store the papal curia from Avignon to Rome. Evil Results On the other hand, private revelations or apparitions, and their counterfeits especially, can also have very serious evil consequences. AUGUSTINE G. I~LLARD Reaie~u for Religious Those that are really genuine a~e at best and in themselves graces of an inferior sort. They belong to the extraordinary phenomena that occasionally mark the pursuit of virtue. Like other miracles, they are not'supernatural in the absolute sense. Of themselves they do not give one a greater participation in the divine life and a Fight to a higher degree of beatitude in eternity. One can be favored with miracles, or even work them, and still in the end find oneself ex-cluded from the company of the elect. "Many will'say to me in that day, 'Lord! Lord! did we not prophesy in Thy name, and cast out demons in Thy name, and do many miracles in Thy name?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from Me, you workers of iniq.uityV " (Matthew 7:22.) Some good people are like the ancient Corinthiafis whom St. Paul had to instruct about the relative values of "spiritual gifts" and charity: "Now, earnestly desire the grdater gifts; and yet I will point out to you a far more excellent path," namely that of charity. Then follows the celebrated passage in praise of charity: "If I spoke With the languages of men and of ~ingels: . . . But the greatest of these is love" (I Corinthiaris 12:31-13:13). Moreover the spiritual masters always call attention to the fact that there are many great dangers and difficulties connected with this unusual type of divine favor. It is quite possible to make bad use ~)f good graces. True apparitions and revelations may be misunder-stood and misinterpreted. Instead of being used for the purposes for which they are given, they may be diverted to faulty human ends. They may lead to pride and presumption, and thus eventu-ally to spiritual catastrophe. They are peculiarly apt to lessen the purity of one's faith and charity. At the very least they may dis-tract one from the greater and better graces of the .supernatural life. False visions and revelations, besides playing havoc with the lives and virtues of those who imagine that they receive them, can lead whole multitudes astray, deprive them of the benefits of the proper practice of their religion, and make religion' itself a mockery to outsiders. For thes~ reasons theologians and enlightened spiritual directors always try to discourage people from developing too much interest in these minor, though indeed more spect.acular, manifestations of divine favor. APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS Wrong I, nitial Attitudes . . Among the generality of 'lthe faithful, e~pecially those who ar, e less intelligent or less well educated, there will always be the ineradi- . cable human tend.ency to get e.xcesslvely excited over-fresh reports of supernatural occurrences." There will always .be some who are gul-lible enough to accept almost any rumor. They are curious to have some experience of what is mysterious and weird.-. They are eager. to obtain some divine favor or other. Influencing one another and exemplifying the faults of crowd psychology, they almost inevitably go beyond the limits of sound reason and the cautions of their ec- Clesiastical superiors. Devout individual souls of some proficiency or ambition in the spiritual lif~ often succumb to an inordinate interest in private ap-paritions and revelations, but in a different way. They would dearly love to receix~e some special personal attention from God or the Blessed Virgin or the saints in heaven~ ~It would be wonderful to have ~ real experience in som~ way of the supernatural. They appreciate the joys of spiritual, consolatiori a'nd would gladly enjoy the maximum of them. An unusual sign :from God, actually vis-. ible or audible, could miraculously facilit;ite their efforts to make progre.ss in the interior ways. They would feel more like the saints, who, they imagine, lived in a world of supernatural phenomena. Aiming 'too muchat extraordinar~r ex.periences, rather than at the more prosaic practice of virtue, they would find some of their fondest desires gratified.' Such tendencies appear at times in very pibus and excellent souls. Nevertheless all spiritual authorities are unanimous and urgent in counseling people who are cultivating the interior, life not to desire or seek anything of the kind. Instead of occupying themselves with favors that are of inferior worth and sometimes positively danger-ous, they should concentrate on the more desirable graces, those that properly sanctify one and enhance one's solid virtoe. Otherwise they may fall victims to various hazards and deceits. A very humble man would be preoccupied, not with looking for special, extraordinary favors, but irl endeavori~ag to lessen his unworthiness of'aug favor. A-prudent'man would be wary "about getting himself into many distractions from what he should really be about; One who is on the watch for marvelous phenomena may indeed get them, not from above, but from the insidious evil spirits, ever-ready to turn to their purposes a c.ravir~g that is not wholesome.~ ' " 7 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reuiew for Religious No 'one is more emphatic in cautioning good people not to seek apparitions and revelations of their own, or does it with more au-thority, than the great mystical doctor of the Church, St. John of the Cross. Reading. what he has to say about such phenomena should cure a sensible person of any hankering that he may have for the marvelous element in ~he spiritual life "Ascent of Mt. Carmel, II, chapters XVI-XXXII). - Thus, for example, he writes: "In order to come to this essential union of love in God [that is, the state to which St. John is guiding his readers], the soul must have a care not to lean upon imaginary visions . for these cannot serve it as a proportionate and proximate means to such an end; rather they would disturb it, and for this reason the soul must re-nounce them and strive not to have them. For if in any circum-stance they were to be received and prized,, it would be for the sake of the profit which true visions bring to the soul and the good effect which they'produce upon it. But i~ is not necessary, for this reason, to receive them; rather it is Well always to reject them for the soul's benefit" (op. cir., Peers's translation, I, 134). The best effects of such divine communicati'ons are received in souls that resist, rather than seek, them. "Let confessors direct their penitents in faith, instructing them frankly to turn away their eyes from all such things, teachingthem how to avoid the desire and the spirit of them that they make progress, and giving them to understand how much more precious in God's sight is one work or act ~f the will performed in charity than are'all the visions and communications that they may receive from Heaven, since these imply neither merit nor demerit" (op cir., I, 184). Recipients" Attitudes But suppose now, no matter what a person's previous attitude toward visions and r~velations has been, that one really occurs, or at least seems to occur. What i~ one to think? What should one do? If it is not quite evident at once, without any examination at all, that what one seems to see or hear is from above, one should try to disregard it arid pay no attention to it. One should rather en-deavor to 'busy oneself with something else. Such is the advice of the saints and theologians. Thus St. Teresa writes: "Both with infirm and healthy souls .there is invariably cause for misgivings about theke things until it becomes clear what kind of spirit is responsible. I Januar~l, 1954 APPARITIONS AND REVELATIONS believe, too, that it is always better for them to dispense with such things at first, for, if they are of God, dispensing with them will help us all the more to advance, since, when put to the proof in this way, they will tend to increase" (Interior Castle, "Sixth M~insions," chapter III; Peers's translation, II, 280). Soon after such an occurrence one should of course consult a prudent director, give him a full account of the whole matter, and then be sensible enough to abide by what he says. In c~se it is immediately and perfectly evident that one has to do with a visit or message that is really of divine origin, then one should receive it with becoming courtesy. What this' will consist in will depend upon who has appeared or who' is speaking. If, for instance, it be Jesus Himself, as happened to St. Margaret Mary, or the Blessed Virgin, as at Lourdes, one would show the utmost rev-erence and respect. If an angel or a saint from heaven or a soul from purgatory should be the visitor, one's reception would be what is fitting under the. circumstances. Any communication would be listened to. The next thing by all means is to see one's director "and let him know just what happened. Then, with becoming docility a'nd humility, one should be guided entirely by his judgment. Patience also may be necessary; it may not be possible for him to come to a conclusion at once. This is exactly what the saints did themselves, and what they recommend for others. Thus one submits to the Church, and is safeguarded from following in the devious ways that history records of many deluded visionaries. What is private and unofficial is sub-ordinated to what is public and official. Care to keep in agreement with the infallible Church is the only sure means of avoiding illu-sion, not to say hallucination. Even if for a time there should seem to be a contradiction between God giving directions immediately in a revelation and God directing through the Church, one should fol-low the Church's rep, resentatives. It is thus that God is truly pleased. One time St. Teresa was instructed in a revelation from the Lord to make a certain foundation. Her superior, Father Gratian, desired that she should make another one instead. She obeyed promptly and simply. Father Gratian was aware of the difficulty, and being surprised that she did not object, later on questioned her about the matter. Teresa answered that she acted as she did "because AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD' '"::: ' '." ~', Reoieto for Religious faith tells me that the orders of Your Reverence are the expression of the will of God, whereas I am never sure of my revelations." Showing the proper diffidence in oneself and docility toward au-thority is a sign in favor of one's vision or locution, and may be a means of promoting its acceptance. On the contrary, excessive in-sistence on having a direct personal communication from God might lead to suspicions against one and resistance. One may feel that something divine and very excellent is being neglected or lost, and to bear this trial well may test one's patience and humility. But if it r.eally be from God, in His own good time He will make it tri-umph. Thus it was on13i after the death of Blessed Juliana of Liege that her divine commission to help bring about the feast " : Corpus Christi achieved the desired result. Sometimes a person gets some practical injunction in a private revelation; for example, to promote a certain devotion, to take steps toward raising a shrine, to make a pilgrimage, and so forth. Here the first great rule is to begin by seeking prudent ,counsel from one's director or superiors, and to conform to it. The second general principle is not to do anything of the kind unless independently of ¯ the supposed revelation there seem to be good reasons for it. Thus one follows both supernatural good sefise and the revelation. Then the suggestion from above becomes the occasion rather than the principal cause of what is done. The more extraordinary the un-dertaking appears, the greater must be the reasons otherwise known which justify it, the greater one's care in considering the whole mat-ter, ands the more cautious one's general attitude. Humility and amenability to direction are both excellent signs of union with God and means of getting co-operation from others in doing the work of God and of the Church. Reported Apparitions and Revelations The great practical problem for most of us is what attitude we should take, not toward visions or locutions of our own--most of us do not have very many!--but toward the apparitions or revela-tions that we hear or read about. In Catholic spiritual literature there are volumes and volumes from the saints and other devout persons purporting to give new re-vealed knowledge On the life of Christ, for instance, or on His Pas-sion, or on the experiences of the Blessed Virgin. Moreover the public press nowadays very frequently has news 10 danuar~l, 1954 APPARITIONS AND P~EVELATIONS reports about alleged recent revelations. The Scapular, for Septem-ber- October, 1950, gives an account in particular of fifteen appari-tions, of the ]31essed Virgin since Fatima, and it adds, "There are reports of others in Spain, Poland, Roumania, and Sicily, but so far the news is sketchy and incomplete" (pp. 3 ft.). There are also the apparitions listed by the Clergtl Montbtv (Ranchi, India) and re-ferred to at the beginning of this.article (see pp. 45-46). The query what stand-we should adopt toward such reports affects all of us and nearly all- the time. To disregard true messages from heaven would be unbecoming, displeasing to" God, and inju-rious to ourselves. But neither do we wish to be duped by the vic-tims of hallucination. Here we may consider a simple and obvious solution of the problem. It will be very easy. to apply and very safe. But unfor~ tunately it will not always be available, especially in the beginning when popular interest and excitement are at their height. In an-other article we.can discuss the distinctions and difficulties that meet one who inquires into these matters more thoroughly. For the pres-ent let us be satisfied with the simplest answer. This plain and facile solution is, "Follow the approbation or disapprobation of the official authorities in the Church, either the Pope or the bishops! If they have not spoken yet, by all means sus-pend judgment, and wait until they do!" , The Church can judge. The" supernatural is her special field, and in it she has a unique competence. She also has the accumu-lated ~xperience and wisdom of twenty centuries. Her theologians know the criteria by which to distinguish the supernatural from the natural, Her investigators can judiciously gather all the evidence for the facts. They can visit the place where the. vision is said to have occurred and interrogate the persons most intimately concerned. When appropriate, they can bring in witnesses that are expert in science, medicine, psychology, and other specialties. They go about their work calmly and critically, not excitedly and enthusiastically. Finally, they have the peculiar assistance of the Holy Spirit. Hence' they can come to a well-founded decision. It is never, however, proposed as infallible. We cannot judge. Of all .the people who hear or read of the apparitions and revelations that are currently reported not one in a hundred knows the principles on the basis, of which critical judg-ments about them are to be made. Even if everybody did know 11 -AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD those criteria well, still practically they could not ascertain the ~acts reliably. Because of distance and remoteness, or lack of opportunity to inquire carefully, 0r--perhaps most of all--want of sufficiently trustworthy a, ccounts, it is really impossible for nearly all persons who merely read or hear such reports to get a critically certain, fac-tual foundation for judgment. Hence, for want of evidence, they are not in a position to pronounce. Therefore, the sensible thing to do is to follow the official deci-sions of the Church~ whether episcopal or papal. One alw.a.ys does best precisely in agreeing with the Church. She does not expec.t what is proposed as divine revelation to be received as such without miraculous intervention demonstrating that God corroborates what His messenger says. She does not go to either of the two extremes of roundly denying in advance all private visions or locutions or Of readily admitting those that are being bruited about. With the competence of a.specialist in the domain of the supernatural, and with absolutely unique promises of aid from the Holy Spirit, she investigates individual cases with great care and pro-nounces decisions that should command the respect of all. Besides, one who thinks with the Church will preserve his sense of perspec-tire and attach relatively little importance to private revelations as compared with the great official public revelation entrusted long ago to her by Christ and the Apostles. During the interval that elapses between the first report o~ a new vision and the approbation or disapprobation of the ecclesiastical au-thorities, the best and the most prudent thing that one can do is to be patient, hold one's opinion in abeyance, and await the official judgment. Otherwise one runs the risk of rejecting, what is au-thentically of divine origin-or of sharing in the evil consequences of hallucination or downright imPosture. To be intelligent about the whole matter in a very general way, one 'might well review, the principl.es that should guide one's thinking by reading the pertinent pages in some such work as Tanquerey's The Spiritual Limb, pages 700 ft., or Poulain's The' Graces of Inte?ior Prayer, pages 299 ft. "Do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits, whether they are from God; for many false prophets have gone out into the world". (I John 4:1). ."Test everything; hold fast to what is good" (I Thessalonians'5:21). 12 Prac!:ical Requiremen!:s of a ¯ Program for t:he Psychological Screening ot: Candidat:es William C. Bier, S.3. [EDITORS' NOTE: This is the second of two articles adapted from papers presented at the Fordham Institute on Religious and Sagerdo~al Vocations, duly, 1953.] THIS article begins with a premise established previously,I name-ly, that psychological' testing has a role to perform and a con-tribution to make in the selection of candidates for the reli-gious life; in other words, that such a program is theoretically de-sirable. The purpose of the present article is to consider the practi-cal feasibility of such a procedure. In other words, would the in-auguration of such a program at the present time be a prudent step? Prudence of Such a Program Father 'A. Pl~, O.P., in a rather remarkable paper bearing the significant title, "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life," writes as follows: "If the psychologist can give us warning at the outset, it would surely be a sin not to ask for his services. The sacred character of grace, especially the grace of vocation, as well as respect for the hu-man person make it a serious olSligation for us to use every possible means to avoid mistakes about vocation.''2 With this statement I think that few would be in disagreement. The crucial question, however, remains: Can the psychologist give us warning of unsuitability in the case of an applicant? There is difference of opinion on the answer to the above que.s-tion. Father Felix Duffey, C.S.C., has written an over-all excellent book on this general subject, called Testing the Spirit.3 At the be.- ginning of his book, he gives a scriptural quotation which might be taken as a very apposite motto for any whose work involves the dis-cernment of vocation. The quotation from I Timothy 5:24 reads lWilliam C. Bier, S.J., "Psychological Testing of Candidates and the Theology of Vocation," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 291-304. 2A. Pl~, O.P., "Unconscious Attraction to the Religious Life," Religious Life: II Vocation. Westminster, Md.: Newman, 1952, p. 109. SFelix D. Duffey, C.S.C., Testing the Spirit. St. Louis: Herder, 1947. WILLIAM C. BIER Review [o~ Religious as follows: "Some men have faults that are plain to view; with others, discovery follows upon. the heels of ,inquiry." Although Father Duffey is much impressed by the need of sound mental health among applicants for the religious life and writes the book for this reason, he believes, nevertheless, that the use of mental aptitude tests for the examination of candidates for the religious life would be "imprudent.''4 When we inquire into the basis for this conclusion, we find that he assigns tw.o reasons. The first is this: psychometrics (psychological tests) are not infallibie. One may legitimately ask what method, particularly in so difficult a matter, is infallible? If the use of psychometrics is imprudent becat~se the tests are not infal-lible, then the use of any other method would have to be judged equally imprudent. Certainly the substitute solution proposed by Father Duffey is not infallible, whereby spiritual directors and supe-riors, with the aid of a series of questions proposed by the author and without any particular training in the field of psychology, are left to judge of the psychological suitability of candidates. In the course of explaining these questio.ns, Father. Duffey makes a large number of astute and helpful recommendations,, but it seems that the over-all res,ult of such a method would be a return to the "unscien-tific and haphazard experimentation" in determining the mental health of candidates to the religious life, against which the book is aimed. The second reason given by Father Duffey for the rejection of psychological tests in the evaluation of candidates is that no reli-gious aptitude tests exist. In this respect, Father Duffey is perfectiy correct; his supposition, however, may be questioned, because no specific religious aptitude tests are needed, as vcill be seen later in this article. The question which must be asked with respect to psychological tests and their use in 'the evaluation of candidates for religious life is th~s: Have the techniques of psychological testing advanced to a point where they are able to furnish us with helpful information relative to applicants before admission? To this question I give an unhesitatingly affirmative answer: they can furnish us' with such in-formation. Whether the actual use of them will be prudent or not depends on how they are used. At the present time there is great need to stress the importance of the proper use of psychological tests. I have had occasion to observe 4lbid.o p. 6. 1# danuartt, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING the reaction of Catholics to the psychological-testing movement over a period of years, and I have frequently noticed an initial suspicion of these tests give way to enthusiastic endorsement when it is seen what these tests are able to do, for instance, by way of prediction in school work. Yet this enthusiasm for psychological tests is some-times extreme and riot sufficiently tempered by an appreciation of their limitations. This matter is mentioned here because it is pos-sible to discern something of the same process under way with re-spect to the use of psychological tests in ~he examination of candi-dates for religious life. An initial reluctance to employ such adjuncts seems to be growing in some quarters into an overenthusiastic and oversimplified acceptance. When it is bruited about that such tests have been used with a certain degree of success, there is a tendency to think that all that is necessary is to find out what tests have been used and to give them. A series of articles, published in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS during 1949, 1950, and 1951, may perhaps have contributed to the above viewpoint. In these articles .the use of psychological tests is recommended as a help in evaluating the fitness of applicants for the religious life; and in terms of the practical initiation of such a pro-gram it is suggested that, when nothing better is available, the pro-gram could be begun were dne of the members of the community to take certain courses in psychological testing. The following quota-tion is drawn from one of the above-mentioned articles: "The ideal prerequisite is that some member of the community be trained in the field of psychometrics. As a .preliminary step, sev-eral basic courses in tests and measurements may suffice. In lieu of trained personnel, the services of someone who is sympathetic to testing, who will conscientiously adhere to manuals of directions, and who will be extremely careful in interpreting results may be utilized."s It is evident that the above writer considers that a training in psychometrics is sufficient for the director of such a program. For reasons explained more adequately later in this article, I am unable to agree with these recommendations. It would be my opinion that a much broader training in psychology is needed to undertake the in-terpretation of psychological tests in such an important matter vocation and with a special-interest group, such as applicants for the SSister M. Digna, O.S.B., "A Tentative Testing Program for Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, X (1951), 75-76. 15 WILLIAM C.'BIER ¯ Review [or Religious' priesthood and religious life. The recommendations offered in the above quotation assume that psychological testing is automatic to an extent which, in my opinion, cannot be supported in theory and which consequently is dangerous to apply in practice. It is clear that the present article assumes so .mething of a middle position in this matter. On the one harid, I fed that psychological testing has developed to a point where it can prudently be used in the selection, of candidates for religious life. On the other hand, I consider it essential that such a program be set up in an adequate manner. With the wrong approach, more harm than good can re-sult from the attempt. The crux of the matter, from a practical point of view, is how the program would be developed. The re-mainder of this article will consider the practical requirements for the adequate inauguration of such a program. Once the principle is accepted that psychological tests have a con-tribution to make in judging religious vocation, it becomes dear that there are different ways in which this principle may satisfactorily be applied in practice. The program suggested below is only one wa3', and it is certainly not the only way, in which the above principle can .be applied. The main advantage in outlining a program of applica-tion is to illustrate the level upon which the work needs to be done, and to ~all attention to certain requiremdnts which must be met in any application of psychological testing to candidates for the reli-gious life. Requirements of the Program What is necessary" above all else is that a p~ogram for the psy-chological testing of applicants for the religious life should be put in the hands of the right person, and this person is, ideally at least, a member of the religious institute in question, who has had adequate psychological training. This combination is particularly desirable and advantageous; but if it cannot be had, then the first requirement .may be waived, but not the second. It is essential that this program be" in the hands of h competently trained psychologist. Such a per-. son will be able to make a maximum contribution if he has had the experience of living a religious life, but he can still make his essential contribution even if this is not the case. What is needed is not merely acquaintance with psychological testing, but a general training in psychology. I would think it imprudent for anyone to undertake the administration of such a program who does not have at least a 16 January, 19.~4 PSYCHOLOGICAL ~;CREENING ' master's degree in psychology; and it would be highly desirable that the director haxle'more training than that, not only thebretical, in terms of courses, but practical, in terms of experience. This sort of testing is not a field for novices and beginners in psychology; it re-mains a difficult task even when one is able to bring to it the maxi-mum which modernlpsychology can offer in training and experience. The director assumes responsibility for the prog.ram in the.sense of,select~ing the tests-and procedures to be employed, supervising if not actually.admin!stering the tests, and above all interpreting the' test results. The interprethtion of.the test result~ is the ~rucial part of the program, and this is the portion which is far from ahtomatic and makes the fullest demands in terms of psychological, tra.ining,' understanding, a'nd i.nsight. As a result of the testing prggram,.th~ director will offer to the" religious superior ~ re~ofiarfi~ndation 0ri each candidate ~e~ted. Tl~e' prog.ram director serves as a. spec.ial consultant to the superigr in tile s~lection of candidat'es'. 'In this respect, the role of the program ad-i .ministrator i.s pur~ely ,advisory, so that the sgperior loses none of his l!berty of actidn. He does, .however, secure more information aboi~t each candidate than would otherwise be available to him, so that hisi judgement of suitabilitylmay have a more adequate foundation. A program, such as the one suggested, supplements, but in no way sup~ plants, the traditional sources of information oh the suitability, of candidates. This aspect will be most adequately achieved if the recommendation of the program director on tile suitability of each candidate b~ made independently of these traditional sources of in-formation. The shperior will then have at his disposal, when he comes to make a judgement on the suitability of the candidate, both' sources of information, so that his decision may be truly as well founded as it is possible to make it. Tests Prior to Admission " My recommendation would be that these tests should be given" to the applicants prior to admission, as it is only in this way that the information derived from them Jan possibly aid the superior in determining the application of candidates. There may be some diffi-culty in arranging for the testing of candidates prior to entrance, but, the benefits of so doing repay whatever effort is involved. It may be noted that it is not necessary that all the candidates be brought to-gether in one place for such testing. It is quite feasible to have sev-, 17 ~¢II~LI.~I C. BIER eral testing centers, and since the first tests are group tests;'as will be explained, it is entirely possible to have them administered by some one else, Who can be easily trained for this limited purpose, and the test results sent to the program director. The only other alternative would be to wait until after admission and to give them during postulancy or noviceship. This is not only a second-best solution, but one which Icould not recommend at all. A number of reasons combine in pointing to the desirability of conducting the tests prior to admission. In the first place, it is easier at that time for the applicant to cooperate in taking the tests to the extent needed for their validity. It must be recognized that most psychological tests of personality rely for their validity upon the co-operation of the respondent and must assume that the questions are answered frankly and honestly. There are very few personality tests whose rdsults are unaffected by deliberate attempts at falsification. This is a limitation in the use of most personality tests which must be appreciated and. faced. Prior to admission, the proper atmosphere of cooperation can more readily be created by letting the applicant see that no favor would be done him by accepting him into rel{gion if he were not suited for such a way of life. He can be led to accept this viewpoint on natural grounds (a misfit in life is a misfortune at any time, but doubly so in religion) and for supernatural motives (he .wishes.to enter religion only if such is God's will for him). It is not implied that it is impossible to obtain such a measure of co-operation after admission, . but it is then more difficult because the individual already has a position to protect. To leave religion, even shortly after admission, involves a loss of self-esteem, fear of criti-cism on the part of others, the thought of failing one's family and one's friends, and many other intimate and personal considerations, all of which operate as a temptati6n to reply to tests in a manner calculated to make oneself appear in a favorable light rather than to give an accurate picture of oneself. The judicious applicant usually keeps the fact of his application to himself until after he has actually been accepted, precisely in order not to create for himself the kind of pressures mentioned above. It is well known that it requires much more courage to leave religion, when one finds that one is unsuited, than it does to enter; but what may not be so readily appreciated is how quickly after admission these defenses mobilize, and their mo-bilization, perhaps in ways so subtle as to be hardly appreciated by the individual, would interfere with the test results. 1"8 danuarg, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING Closely allied to the above reason for holding the tests prior to: admission is the added advantage to the applicant that his unsuit-ability for religious life be made known to him as soon as possible. The difficulty of readjustment to life in the ~vorld after a period in religion is well known; and, if this readjustment can be spared the applicant, it is clearly beneficial. From the point of view of the religious institute, when the tests hre given only after admission, there will be an inkvitabletendency to let the doubtful candidates stay and give them a trial, since they have already entered. Experience proves that this is the precise trouble with doubtfully suitable religious. They are accepted in the first place because they are doubtful and hence not clearly excluded. For the same reason, they.are passed on from the postulancy to the novitiate, and from the novitiate to temporary and perhaps final vows. At each stage it becomes more difficult to reject them, not because they are any more suited for religious life, but simply because they have been in.religion for such and si~ch a length of time. The place to eliminate doubtfully suitable c~indidates is at the time of ap-plication. The attitude to be adopted in the case of doubtful candi-dates has been discussed in the previous article.6 The final reason for recommending that the tests be given prior to admission is a technical one but, in some ways, it is the most compelling reason of all. It is this: Were the tests given during tulancy or noviceship, it would be impossible to interpret the re-sults. Introduction to the religious life is a profound experience, and it seems that such an experience would have inevitable repercussions in the psychological make-up of the individual. However, at the present time we know next to nothing of the impact of religious life on psychological functioning, and hence we have no base line where-by to interpret the results of psychological testing given during a time of intense religious experience, such as the postulancy and nov-iceship certainly provide. It may be objected that part of the function of the novitiate is to determine the suitability of novices for life in religion. While such is undoubtedly true, it would seem that this principle is some-times misunderstood. Primarily, the function of the novitiate is a positive one: to train the young person in the following of Christ through the practice of the evangelical counsels and the particular rules of the religious institute. The novitiate assumes the suitability 6REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), p. 291. 19 WILLIAM (2. BIER Review for, Religious "of its novices; its fundamental function is to train them. Second-arily, it is true, the novitiate tests suitability, but only as the latter develops as a. corollary flowing from novitiate training. Suitability is essentially an admission problem, and /'/arm results when admission problems are passed on to the novitiate. They then become novitiate problems, to the detriment of the essential function of the novitiate, which is training in the religious life. When unsuitability develops in the novitiate, it should be an unsuita.bility which was not ap-. parent upon application, and which only appeared under the more protracted and more penetrating scrutiny of the novitiate. Kind of Tests Ernploged At this point consideration may be given to the kind of psycho-logical tests which would be employed in the evaluation of candi-dates for the religious 'life. The specific tests to be employed is a technical question for psychological experts, and in a general discus-sion it is advantageous to refer only to the kind of psychologic~il tests to be used. Specific tests "can only be chosen in the last analysis with respect to a specific situation--hence in terms of a speqified r~ligious institute--and this is an additional reason why the ques-tion of specific psychological tests cannot be introduced into a gen-eral discussion. In order, however, to discuss even the kind of psychological tests to be employed, it is necessary to introduce, some specification with respect to the type of religious institute concerned. To illustrate the principles involved, the instance of a religious institute accepting candidates for the priesthood will be chosen. This case is sufficiently general to provide considerable immediate application,, and to make it possible for other religious groups to consider the application of these principles to. their own specific-situations. Among psychological tests there are what are referred to as group tests, i.e., tests which can be administered to a group of people at the same time. It is recommended that the program of.psychological' tests for applicants for .the religious life start with tests of this kind. All applicants would be required to take these tests prior to admis-sion, and they could be administered in smaller or larger groups de-pending upon circumstances, and in whatever, way would prove generally most convenient. These tests would be chosen and de-signed to furnish information on the suitability, of candidates in two general areas: academic or intellectual suitability, and psychological 2O danuar~l, 1954 PSYCHOLOGICAL SCR~NI~q~/ or personality suitability. In the area of academic suitability, investigation would be madd~ of intellectual ability and academic achievement. It is rec~inmended that ability be measured by two tests, preferably two tests taking different approhches to the matter, e.g,, a spe,ed test and a power test, thecomposite of the two tests being taken as an over-all index of-academic ability." One or more achievement tests may be. given, and their function wo~il~l be to determine the relationship between abil-ity and performance. Ideally, achievement should be on a par wi~b" ability, and notable discrepancies between the two become helpful, and someti~m~s important, interpretative factors. It is evident that a certain level of ability and academic per-formance is needed for the course of studies leading to the priesth, ood and 'for the subsequent work of the ministry. It is true, however, that various indices of such ability and performance are already available, for instance, in school marks. It might be thought, there-fore, that psychological tests for these attributes are an unnecessary duplication. Tests in these areas are not, perhaps, essential; but they are desirable, and they can be very helpful. In school marks, ability and application are mixed in unknown degrees, and in terms of preparation for the priesthood, it becomes important' to sift out the relative roles of each. Religious training can furnish the moti-vation needed for appIication to study, but it cannot supply ability, where the latter is lacking. Added application can compensate for deficient ability, but only within quite narrow limits. It is a fre-quent fallacy .to assume that, with an individual of limited ability, the same amount of extra application and diligence will spell success higher up on the academic ladder as it did earlier, for instance in col-leg~ as it did in high school. It cannot, do so, however, because an equivalent performance at the higher level requires greater abifity, and an individual who has already been achieving only by reason of added application is overwhelmed on reaching the higher level of academic work. Consequently, a reliable estimate of ability, as distinct, from" application, is needed in order properIy to evaluate the academic suitability of candidates for the priesthood. Furthermore, applicantscome from different schools; and unless one is familiar with each school, it is difficult to evaluate the significance of the grades attained. There is the further advantage of comparing all of the applicants, from whatever school, according to the same cri-terion, and this aim is achieved when all of them take the same psy- WILLIAM (~. BIER Review/~or Religiou.s chological tests. It must be remembered that selection in'this case is not merely for the work of a few years, as for entrance to college,but for a lifetime undertaking; and in a matter of such importance, it would, be more appropriate to speak of checking and re-checking, rather than of unnecessary duplication. Recall, too, the general role suggested above for these tests, namely, to furnish an independent estimate of suitability. An applicant's school grades, °for instance, may be so low as not to recommend him, but hi~ teachers explain this fact as due to the necessity of work outside of school or to an unusual amount of extracurricular activities. The superior wishes to know whether this report is accurate, or whether it is rather a charitable interpretation on the part of his teachers, influenced per-haps by.their opinion.of the applicant as a person and, it may be, as one judged by them .to be a desirable candidate in all other respects. The psychological tests will furnish the superior in a case of this kind with exactly the independent estimate which is needed. Finally, since suitability must be judged on a total basis, the ability level of the applicant may be important in terms of his personal tendencies, as will presently be explained. Since the over-all function of the program of psychological tests is ~o offer supplementary information on'the suitability of candi-dates, the information furnished in the area of psychological suit-ability is the most important, because it is'in this area that the least :information is usually available. It~will be recalled that" Father Duffey, quoted at the beginning of this article, felt that' the psycho-ilogical testing of applicants for the r~ligious life was not currently :feasible because no religious'aptitude tests are a;cailable. I should like .at this point to develop the notion suggested earlier that no specific~ :religious aptitude tests are needed. What we wish basically to discover with respect to the applicant :is whether he is a mature, stable, well-integrated person: in a word, a fundamentally normal person. If he is such, the~a he is, psycho-logically speaking, a good prospect for the religious life. Some per-sons by reason of their psychological dispositions will.find religious life naturally more congenial than others~ but it must be appreciated that. what is needed in terms of the evaluation of candidates is an estimate, not of congeniality, but of fundamental compatibility and suitability. The individual who is psychologically unsuitable for religious life is such because he.,is, in general, not a psychologically well:integrated and well-balanced individual. He would not,.be toa January/, 1 ~,5 4 I~SYCHOLOGIC~tL SCREENING well suited for many other things as well; .religious life is only one of them. However, he is more unsuited for religious life than for cer-tain other things because of the added psychological demands of ligious life. The conclusion to be drawn from this premise with respect to psychological tests for applicants for religious life is evi-dent. Specific religious aptitude tests are not needed; what is needed is an estimate of the general maturity, integration, and balance of the personality. Hence we are able to employ psychological tests which give us this sort of information. It must be recognized that the only basis for estimating the likelihood of psychological adjust.- ment to religious life is the previous adjustment manifested by the individt~al. It may be taken as a fundamental principle in this mat-ter that there is no reason to expect an individual successfully tO adapt himself to the demands of religious life if he ~has nbt anteced-ently been able to adjust to the .ordinary problems of life. -Thus, the psychological tests employed are aimed at providing a reliabl~ estimate of the psychological adjustment of. the, individual, as veal, d in previous inter;personal relationships and life .situations~ Here, even more than in the area of intellectual testing, reliance. should not be placed upon any single test, but several should be em-ployed and the composite result of all considered in arriving ~it .a decision. The questionnaire type of personhlity tests, when admin-istered in the proper atmosphere where the answers will be given frankly and honestly, can furnish very. helpful and reliable informa-tion about personality maturity and integration; but they can well be supplemented by certain of the less-structured, i.e., in technical terms, the projective personality tests. From the several, personality tests which are administered comes the basis for the judgement of psychological maturity, stability, and integration. Such an indi-vidual is, from the psychological point of view, .in the words of canon 538, ". fit to bear the burdens of the religious state," Another factor v~hich must be considered, however, is attraction for the religious life. Not everyone who is suited for religious life is attracted to it. Granted that this attraction is fundamentally a grace, is it not likely that it builds on a certain.natural disposition of cl-;ar-acter and personality? Since the priesthood and religious life make an effective appeal to only a relatively small portion of our Catholic young people, most of whom would be psychologically suited, there must be something different about them, and it seems quite likely that such differences would descend into the psychological compo- 23 .WILLIAM C. BIER Reoie~o ~:or Religious nents of personality. When we a~tually administer psychological tests to groups of candidates applying to enter religious life, we find that. they do score somewhat differently on these tests than other comparable groups. The earliest findings in this respect were mis-interpreted, and it was concluded that religious and seminarians as a group were characterized by marked abnormal and neurotic tenden-cies. Actually, of course, these findings simply meant that these groups were different from the population at large, and that the psy-chological tests were sensitive enough to pick up these differences. These findings do have one important bearing, however, on the use of psychological tests in the screening of candidates, and it is this: serious mistakes in interpretation will almost surely be made if test resul~s, with a special group of this kind, are accepted at their face value. Any personality test which is employed, whose norms are based upon the general population, will have to be adapted for use with candidates to the religious life. The degree of adaptation is ' something which can only be determined through actual use, and this clearly reinforces the viewpoint presented earlier 'chat the use of these tests is not automatic, and cannot be. made so at the present time. This is unquestionably work for the psychological expert, and for him alone. Results so far obtained in the use of psychological tests with religious men and women indicate that psychological adjustment as applied to life in the world and life in religion is an analogous con- Cept, meaning that it is partly the same, and partly different, in the two cases. It is partly the samebecause the same psychological re-sources at the disposal of the individual are employed in the two cases but adjustment is partly different because the demands are different, and so too are the psycholbgical satisfactions involved. A word on the interpretation of test findings may be in order at this point. It is evident that some .applicants would exclude them-selves on intellectual grounds alone, no matter how stable and well-integrated their personalities. It must be remembered that we are .considering the case of an applicant for the religio~s priesthood, and a certain level of intellectual ability is clearly required in such.,a case. .On the other hand, some applicants would exclude "themselves on .personality grounds, no matter how.high their level of intellectual ¯ .ability. In certain other instances, however, the interrelation of .ability and personalit~ proves decisive. A man of somewhat limited .ability but well-integrated personality might be judged suitable, PSYCHOLOGICAL SCREENING while a second applicant of the.'same ability, but of a less-balanced personality, could be judged unsuitable. In such a case, it is neither ability alone (which presumably is low, but not impossible) nor personality integration alone (which while poor is not itself pro~ bibitive) which is judged unfavorable, but the combination of the two. An applicant of limited ability would find the course of s~udies for the priestl~ood a constant strain, and prolonged stress of this kind is calculated to accentuate any personality.difficulties which might already be present. Final Portion of the Program Thus far, reference has been made only to group psychological tests in the evaluation of candidates. It is necessary that the group-testing progr~am be supplemented by a certain amount of individual testing. Depending upon the size of the group of candidates to b~ examined, individual intelviews may be feasible. If it is possible "to make arrangements for them, they are very helpful. Such inter-views will be most advantageous if held after the group testing, be-cause they can then be made to supplement the information derived from the general test results in a most helpful way, and can prevent misinterpretation which might possibly result from the use of test results alone. Whether it is feasible to arrange individual interviews or not, it will sometimes be necessary to resort to supplementary in-dividual testing. There will always be some cases in which the group tests will give inconclusive results, and it would be unwise, if not unjust, particularly in the earlier stages of a testing program, to settle the matter on the basis of group tests alone. At this stage, it is my recommendation that the program should have consultants. I would suggest that one consultant be a clinical psycholggist and the other a psychiatrist. Only those candidates would reach this stage of the program in whose case the group tests ¯ gave positive reasons for doubting their suitability for religious life. It is not necessary, nor, as far as I can s~e, is it desirable that every candidate for religious life be interviewed by a psychiatrist; but ~ucl~ is necessary in some cases. The group testing reveals the cases in which such a psychiatric judgement is needed. Thus, in the difficult and doubtful cases, the director of the testing program has the inde-pendent judgement of two experts to guide him. It would be my conception that the clinical psychologist and the psychiatrist serve as. consultants to the program director, and even in these cases the latter 25 WILLIAM C. BIER .assumes the responsibility for the bver-all recommendation on the candidate which is given to the superior. The .final recommendations on each candidate which are made to the superior may profitably be divided into those which are favor-able, unfavorable, and doubtful. Sometimes even when group and individual testing is complete, the only judgement which can be made on a candidate, in fairness both to the applicant and to the reli-gious institute, is that he is a doubtful prospect for religious life. Yet everi here, which is the least satisfactory outcome, the program has something to offer, because the doubt is in all cases a positive one and the superior knows the reasons why the candidate is a doubtful prospect. In work of this kind humility is by all means necessary. Indeed, any other attitude would be preposterous in a matter where the outcome depends on the interplay of God's grace and man's free will. It.is clear, therefore, that a program such as the one described in this article will not solve all admission problems, nor can it be expected to do so. Its contribution, though genuine, is limited. Even with 'the help of such a program, mistakes in admissions will be made, but almost surely there will be fewer mistakes and they will be less seri-ous. One of the great advantages of a program such as the one out-lined above is that it makes it possible to profit to the utmost from the mistakes which are made. It is assumed that the records of the tests will be kept. If the program director will then study the progress of the applicants in religion, he will learn much, both about his tests and about his predictions based upon them, and this is in-formation which can be gathered in no other why. Some of the tan-didates tested will leave after admission, and it is evident that infor-mation about such candidates, as far as it is obtainable, will con-tribute substantially to the improvement of the program. It would seem that a sustained program of admissions and follow-up, such as that projected here, would be a particularly valuable adjunct to reli-gious admissions which depend ultimately upon the superior, and superiors change frequently according to the provisions of canon law. A program of this kind can help a new superior avoid some of the mistakes of his predecessor. A program of psychological tests such as that envisioned here can be of some immediate assistance in the selection 6f candidates. It is clear, however, that such a program must be considered to be in 26 danuar~!, 1954 COMMUNICATIONS an experimental stage for some years, while the test results are per-mitted to validate themselves against time and against the progress of the candidates in religion. A judicious use may be made of the test results even in these early years. The tests will, however, be-come more valuable in time, when their, validity has been verified. In conclusion, .I would stress the fact.that psychological testing can touch only the natural foundation for religious vocation, which in its essential aspect is the work of God's grace. Its role, therefore, though genuine, is limited; but when applied prudently, it will al-most surely be a helpful adjunct in the most difficult task of scru-tinizing the suitability of those who, inspired by'a right intention, present themselves as applicants for admission to religious life. 'ommun{cal:{ons Reverend Fathers: The article on the particular examen in theJuly, 1953, issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, entitled "A New and Vital Approach," by Father De Letter, S.2., was thought-provoking. You invited com-ment. It'seems to me that there really are. religious (and let's hope there are many) who after years of striving after perfection cannot derive much help from the particular examen if they merely try to break an unwanted habit or work against their pet sin. There are even some, perhaps many, who cannot for the life of them find out what their predominant fault is; And this is not to be wondered at. Surely fervent religious can be expected to reach a certain stage of perfection beyond which it is hardly possible perceptibl~/to go, though they do advance in holiness continually as they increase in sanctifying grace, even without their knowing it. Should such drop the particular examen? By no means. Also for them it is a great aid to perfection. But for them especially is the new and vital approach suggested by Father De Letter. . I don't know just how new this is. It is certainly new in its presentation in that issue. But it has long been practiced in many different ways by religious here and there. And it is the only sen-sible way of handling the particular examen for those who have made such progress in the spiritual life as suggested above. 27 (~OMMUNICATIONS Now, to be practical. Take a good religious who wishes to prac~' rice the particular examen and has no special fauIt to overcome. This religious wants to be very close to God always. But he is extremely busy all the day long in the various tasks assigned to him. He is prone to forget God's presence. Looking about for ways and means of remaining in the presence of God, of being intimately united with Him always, he recalls that the saints and ascetical writers tell us that 6he of the best means is the fervent utterance of ejaculatory prayers or aspirations, made either' orally or mentally. He makes it the subject of his particular examen to keep close to God by saying such prayers often during the day. Between tasks, as he goes about from place to place, etc., etc., he quietly (and always fervently) says some little prayers. To make the matter doubly meritorious, he learns scores of indulgenced ejacu-lations and makes it a point to use only those and thus be a constant helper of the holy souls. Any prayers, different prayer~ remember. The purpose is recollection, walking in the presence of God. The means, the prayers, mental or oral. He calls twenty prayers said a unit. For each unit he marks one. If in the evening he has ten units, he marks simply 10 in'his booklet (which must always be' around and never neglected). That means 200 ejaculations during the day. ' It is almost'unbelievable hbw one can grow in union with God by means of a particular examefi like that. --"UNLESS YOU BECOME." Reverend Fathers: On what authority the price df Lex Propria was given (in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Nov., 1953, p. 330), we.do not know. However, this particular work was a one-printing edition solely for' Benedictine Abbeys and Convents. Notices to this effect were sent to Benedictine superiors and .an order card was included on which the only price given was 75 cents per copy, plus postage. Furthermore, all orders had to be placed before July 15. We have received a num-ber of orders since you p.ublished the wrong price (50 cents). We trust you will correct this in your next issue. --THE ABBEY STUDENT DRESS. 28 Reading J:or Religious Edward F. Garesch~, S.J. RELIGIOUS life remains the same in its essentials througl'i the ages, but how different are the circumstances in which the reli-gious of different periods have to live. This is notably true in regard to the supply of reading matter and the choice which religi6us of this time have to make among a multiplicity of books. In more simple ages. the volumes which religious read were few and preci6us.~° "In the days when everything was written by hand, books weke of great price and value. Now, the many devices for the multiplicatidn of print have d~luged the world with.books arid booklets and peri-odicals. On the one hand religious are offered volume after volume composed especially for their own use; on the other hand the eno?- mous quantity~of.secular publications intrudes even into the cloister." It is interesting to note.that, ifi spite of the great development of forms of entertainment, read, ing still holds its place as a popular: amusement. Hence the greater number of books and periodicals have this as their primary, purpose. They seek to tempt, readers to buy and' read for the motive of interest and amusement. "Serious and factual book~ are alsomultiplied withc~ut end. Every issueof the weekly book supplements contains a surprising number of titles; and of course not nearly all the published books can be reviewed. Many o~ them are not even mentioned. Through school libraries and the like, many religious have access to some of these current pub-lications. As to magazines, the revenue publishers secure from ad-vdrtising or from immense sale of copies makes them publish editions so large tfiat hardly anyone reads them thr6ugh. A Real Problem Now all this presents a real problem tothe devoted religious who wishes to love and serve God and to help his ffeighbor to.the'best of his powers. He knows that reading is a great means of instruction and of advancement in the spiritual life, that it is a source of infor-. marion useful in his work. But how shall he choose among so many books and periodicals? How shall he solve the problem of what is best for him to read? Someone may say that obedience will solve the problem for him. But the older religious especially, and those employed in important 29 EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ \ Reuiem for Religiou~ and responsible positions, are given a great deal of liberty in the choice of what they read. Even the younger members cannot always secure personal and specific guidance in this matter. Thus one may fall into a desultory habit of reading which deprives the mind and the heart of much precious sustenance and guidance, and wastes time which might be much better used. A careful consideration of this subject of what is best to read or leave unread ought to be helpful for many religious who sincerely wish to be as wise and holy as they can. To read is to feed one's mind, imagination, memory, and feelings. One can draw a close parallel therefore between the proper selections of mental and bodily food. A great deal is written and said nowadays about the importance of choosing .the right nourish-ment. Everyone is alert to the dangers of infected or contaminated food. The right proportion of hydrocarbons and proteins, of vita-mins and minerals, is known to b~ important for the preservation of health and strength. The danger of overweight and underweight, of a deficiency or excess of the elements of nutrition, is generally known. Importance of Reading But good spiritual, mental, and even emotional nourishment is no less important: indeed, it is far more essential to one's w~ll-being because the soul is so much superior to the body. Our happiness and holiness depend in gr~at measure on the nourishment we give our spiritual selves. Though conversation and experience are also very important, one of the great means by which we nourish our soul properly is the correct choice of our reading. Food ought to be appetizing in order to be more easily digestedl Similarly, reading that holds our attention and interest is usually more readily assimilated. To read out of custom or out of a sense of duty is meritorious, but things so read are not as likely to impress us and stay with us as those in which we are interested. Hence, when we choose books that appeal to us, they are more likely to help, everything else being equal. But these interesting books ought to be solid, important, and of special help to us. The great variety of spiritual books now available ought to make a choice easy. Superiors surely will be desirous to provide fo~ every religious what he most likes and needs in the way of spiritual nourishment. One plan that seems good and practical, for the large communi- 30' January, 1954 READING FOR RELIGIOUS ties, is to have a community library, with a librarian who will see to it that the worth-while spiritual books are quickly secured. Any religious, even from another house, can write to the librarian for the books he wishes to read, to be mailed to him in a special cover and returned in the same cover within a specified time. In this way, without too much expense, many religious can have the benefit of the community library. The community librarian will also become expert in advising religious about their reading. Several small com-munities might group together to support a central library; or the large communities might let the smaller ones share, perhaps for a small fee, in the facilities of their central library. These are means of ensuring that each religious may have the book he likes and needs. Life is so short find the good books are so numerous that we shall never be able to read them all even if we use every moment of our reading time. Why waste the precious hours, therefore, on use-less or inferior reading when the best is none too good for the hour-. ishment of mind and heart? Foremost among worth-while books are good lives of the saints. What could be more interesting in itself to the follower of Christ, who aspires t9 close and perfect union with Him, than to read how other souls attained that union? For-tunately, modern lives of the .saints try hard to tell the truth about the subjects of their stories, and so it. is possible for the religious who reads to learn a. great deal about holiness-in-action. Books of Devotion There are also many books of devotion, written from various ~iewpoints and about many subjects. Some of them are very old, written centuries ago, but are now appearing in new editions. There are also excellent modern books, whose style and manner are espe-cially adapted to the present-day mind and taste. It is to be noted, however, that these books, though they all beaf the imprimatur of the Church, are not all of equal value or authority. In fact the imprimatur means merely that there is nothing in th~ book against faith and morals. It does not mean that the authority issuing the imprimatur agrees with all the statements and ideas in the book. Each book has as much authority as its author can command. Even of the saints it is said that not everything they wrote was necessarily holy. Still more is it true that not everything in Cath-olic books of devotion is necessarily wise and prudent. Some empha-size one phase of piety, some another. Some recommend one devo- 31 EDWARD F. GARESCHi~ : tion and others insist dn quite different ones. Some good.souls inclined to be like ~he man who leaped on horseback and rode off rapidly' in all directions. They want to practice all devotions at once, .to follow all the different systems of asceticism. By .assimi-lating so many different spiritual ideas, good in themselves but gulped down indiscriminatingly, they contract a spiritual indiges-tion. Good spiritual books come under the second and third classes in Bacon's statement that some books are merely to be tas~ed, others to be chewed and swallowed, and still others to be digested thor-oughly. To read the Gospels or the Imitatibn of Christ, slowly and thoughtfully, may bring more spiritual benefit and solid nourish-ment than many times the hours passed in reading hastily less-abiding spiritual books~ Recreational Reading But nowadays the mind craves lighter and more recreational food, just as the bodily taste demands sweetmeats a~ad hors d'oeuvres. StiII,°even in recreational reading, the religious owes it to himself to exercise a prudent choice. How extremely foolish it.is, to ~ay nothing. worse, if one who is vowed to Christ takes up w?rldly and tainted .stories, magazines, and books. If be has no business with such books and periodisals, he freely opens his mind and imagination and feelings to the contamination of the world--an act of great unwis-dora, to say the least. Newspaper reading is almost needful for religious who teach, who write, or who have to deal with others. But what a difference there is between reading and reading when it comes to the news. Here a great waste Of time is possible when the reader wants to pore. over every item. SeIective reading will give, in a few moments, all that is worth-while in the daily papers. One can become accustomed also to very rapid reading which gathers the gist of the article in a frac.tion of time. About magazines and papers, nearly everything may be repeated that was°said about books. There are so many good ones; why waste time on the tainted and the trivial? Some experienced readers refuse to read any book that is less than a year old, because within a year the value of some books, if they ever had any, has quite disap-peared. Time is so precious and life is so short that when you do read a magazine be sure it i~ Worth-while. One way to insure the right sort of reading is to have it conven- Januar~t, 1954 RE!~DING FOR RELIGIOU~ iently at hand. We have said a great deal, in writing for lay folk. about the "book at the elb0,w." When we have a few moments to spare, we are not likely tb'go very far for what we reid. Rather, we pick up the book oh' periodicM that is nearest and begin to read it. Hence, to have good books and periodicals at hand is a great step towards getting them read. On the other hand, to keep worthless and trivial literature at a distance i~ the' best way to avoid wasting the precious moments we have for reading. The publishers, whether of books or magazines or newspapers, know this principle well, and they act:upon it to get their publica-tions bought and read. Wherex~er we turn, we see newsstands, book departments in stores, book and magazine counters even in drug-stores. It is the easiest thing in the world to pick up one's reading matter from all these sources, wherever we go. Henc.e, even into the Catholic home there pours a flood of best sellers and of popular magazines and newspapers which carry the world and the flesh into the sacred family circle. People wonder why they have so many distractions ~nd temptations, why their thoughts are often so trivial, why they dwell so little on th~ things of God and the interests of the Church. The reason is that they are victims of the powerful and ceaseless propaganda of high-salaried circulation managers and book agents. "'Dieting" Required Even into religious institutions some of these worldly and often- 'tainted publications find their way, and they are dressed up and flavored so as to deceive even the elect. But the poison for the soul is more deadly than that which ~nly affect~ the body. And, after years of reading these worldly publications, even religious need a strong antidote to keep them firm in faith and hope and love. It is hard and sometimes trying to .confine one's reading to what is best and noblest. Yet it is the o,nly reasonable course for a reli-gious to take. So also it is difficult at times for those who have to go on a reasonable and normal diet in order to preserve their health to keep strictly to what the doctor orders. In the one case as in the other, the reward is great. It is good to be healthful and vigorous, well nourished and of normal girth of body. But it is still" a hap-pier thing to be clean and strong of spirit; to have a mind, a heart, a will helped and nourished by a great faith, a burning hope, a vig-orous charity. Our conscious life of the mind is made up of a succes- EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ sion of thoughts, memories, impressions. If these are pure and joy-ful, holy and clean, then our life itself is so, because our thoughts color our days and bring them their sunshine or shadow. The ino ward life of thoughts, of will, of motives and desires is what makes us happy or unhappy, and we cannot readily perceive how much this is affected by what we read. ~,rhile thd religious ponders these things for his ownspiritual good and inner happiness, his charity will make him desire to help others also to choose well what they rea'd. ~vrhen you conceive an enthusiasm for a good and holy book, y.ou will be able to recom-mend it to others with more genuine interest, x~rhen you yourself choose your reading wisely and well, you will have more influence on the laity and even on your fellow religious to promote good reading. SPECIAL PUBLICATIONS We have received, with the compliments of The Most Reverend John Mark Gannon, Bishop of Erie, a beautifully bound and printed volume entitled l~VIemoirs¯ --The Semlrlarg 01: Montezuma. It contains the documents and writings of Bishop Gannon, Chairman of the Bishops' Committee for Montezuma Seminary, and of. his episcopal associates. The volume was prepared by The Very Reverend James M. Powers, Director of Charities in the Diocese of Erie. The book has not been placed on the market at this time; the present limited edition was subsidized by Bishop Gannon. This story of superb American Catholic charity which con-. tributed upwards 9f $1,500,000 to the education of Mexican priests, and of the seminary which to date has trained some 770 priests for the ministry in Mexico deserves wider dissemination. Cahiers de dosdphologie is a new periodical founded l~y the Research and DocL umentation Centre at St. Joseph's Shrine, Montreal. The Centre, which was estab-lished 'a few years ago, purposes to collect microfilms and publicatlons on St. Joseph and to promote various kinds of research, "to foster Josephology." It will be p.ublished twice a year. Price in American countries: $2.50 per year: $1.25 per copy. Address: Centre of Research and Documentation, St. Joseph's Shrine, Mon-treal 26, Canada. San Juan de la Cruz: Valor Psicologico de s& Doctrina, by Ft. Victorino Capanaga de San Agustln, won first prize among all the competitive works sub-mitted to the Spanish Universities on the occasion of the fourth centenary of the birth of St. John of the Cross. This study of the psychological value of St. John's mystical doctrine contains a long introduction, a section on the "structure of the soul," and a final section on "mystical phenomena." We received it from: Imp. Juan Bravo, 3, Madrid, Spain. No price given. 34 Aurelian Spiril:ualit:y Sister Mary of Carmel, R.P.B. [EDITORS' NOTE: The institute of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blood was founded at St. Hyacinthe, Quebec, by Mother Catherine Aurelia in 1861. It is a contemplative institute and should be distinguished from the Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood, an active congregation. The present article concerns the con-templative institute, which has monasteries in Canada and the United States, as well as in Rome, Cuba, and 2apart. A monastery flourished in China until it was suppressed by the Com.munists. The mother house for the French-speaking section of the institute is at St. Hyacinthe: for the English-speaking section, at London, Ontario. ] BECAUSE of the centuries of Christian thought behind its intro-duction into the schools of spirituality, the teaching of Mother Catherine Aurelia of the Precious Blood, embodied in the Rule of her institute and in her writings, is enriched with the spiritual treasures of these schools and influenced by them, while presenting and maintaining individual characteristics. It hol~ls a reflection of the dignity and glory of its elder brothers and sisters in the history of the Church and from its lowlier place among them radiates a new light. If it is young in its almost one hundred years of existence, it is old in its devotion, the Precious Blood. This devotion extends to the age of the Apostles. Saint Paul writes of it in a sublime manner ¯ in his Epistle to the Hebrews, and Saint Peter associates with it the adjective which has become almost a part of the word. "Precious Blood" was written for the first time by the Prince of the Apostles in his first Epistle. The' devotion goes back further, to Calvary and the.sacred Passion of Our Lord, even to Hi~ infancy when, in the mystery of the Circumcision, He shed the first drops of His ,blood. Still further back through the centuries preceding the comii~g of Our Redeemer, His blood was prefigured in that of the sacrificial animals of the Old Law. Father Faber, in his excellent work on the Precious Blood, would take us in contemplation to the ageless now before the creation of the world and show us in his inimitable way the unbe-ginning procession of the Precious Blood emerging from the mind of God. With these ancient and sacred realties arching the edifice of her life of prayer, the Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood has an obliga-tion of nobility. She must be marked with the characteristics of a 35 SISTER MARY OF CARMEL Reoieto for Religious family that posesses an eternal crest--the shield of the Precious Blood of 3esus. In a world of great and worthy exterior activity, in an age of actionists, insignificance lends to the hiddenness of the life of the daughters of Mother Catherine Aurelia.In this they possess a s~trong bond with her and her cofoundresses to whom the Most Reverend Joseph LaRocque, Bishop of St. Hyacinthe and founder of the in-stitute, could say, "Nothing could surpass, beloved Daughters, the insignificance of your origifi . " Influences~ In the direction of Monsignor 2oseph Raymond, later to become cofounder of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blbod, we.find the earliest and the most prolonged notable influence on the soul of Aurelia Caouette, latdr Mother " Catherine Aurelia of the Precious Blood. The importance of that influence is brought before us in the wo~ds of Bisfiop 3oseph LaRocque which he spoke to the members of the community shortly after Monsignor Raymond's death' on the feast of the Precious Blood in 1887. "My. dear children," said the founder, "read the writings of your Father who had such great zeal for the sanctification of your souls; you will find therein the sub-stance of his piety and his heart." While still very'y~ung, Aurelia Caouette received, in the words of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, the inspiration which was the first indication of her vocation in life: "I feel in my soul all tl~e energy of tfae Divine Blood. It is a generous Blood which aspires o~ly to be shdd." In the fact that she was a tertiary in the order of Saint Dominic can'beseen the.,early influence of the Dominican Rule on her soul-li~e. Her attraction to the great Dominican, Saint Catherine of Sienal remained with her throughout the futhre years, although it is possible that the saint's outstanding devotion to the Precious Blood was its power. A Carmelite influence may be found in the modified similarity of the cloistered life of her spiritual daughters to that 6f their eider sisters of Carmel and in the blending of austerity with the lighthear~e~lness and joyful gaiety characteristic of Saint Teresa of Avila. That the spiritu.ality of Saint Ignatius of Loyola notably affected that of. Mother Catherine Aurelia and her spiritual datighters IAny" influences which came to the foundress in an e'xtraordinary manner have been omitted. da.nttary, 1954 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY ! is evident. In chapter three of the Rule, which treats of mental prayer, we read, "The Adorers will therefore apply themselves with the greatest diligence 'to this holy exercise using principally the method o,f Saint Ignatius of Loyola." Here it is well to emphasize that, contrary to a general misinformed opinion, the "'method" of Saint Ignatius is not a set mould depriving the soul of that liberty of spirit in .which God delights; and to safeguard the religious against this error, she is cautioned: "Undoubtedly when the Holy Spirit makes His Divine operations felt in the soul, instructing ~nd directing her, she has only to abandon herself to the attractions and impressions which He communicates, without restricting herself rigorously to a method.': AlWays concerned with the prayer-life of the religious, the insti-tute provides advice for all. The beginner is encouraged by this prac: tical directive: "For the use of persons unable to meditate easily, Saint Ignatius toward the end of.his Spiri.tua.1 Exercises proposes three ways of praying appropriate to the dispositions and cap, ac.ity of those lea~t accustomed to prayer." There follows a detailed expla-nation of these in an extract from the Spiritual Exercises by Bel-licius. And through t'he pages of her Spiritual Directory, the Adorer is. guided in her conduct to the h.eighlts of contemplation, should God favor her with this gift. It is worth noting the co'nclu.din~ sentence in this section: "The soul should commit herself with docility to the direction of a wise and enlightened man and faith-f. ully obey him." The importanc~ rightly attached to the particular examen by the founders and foundress of the Sisters Adorers of the Precious Blood marks a further influence by the Saint of Loyola. An echo of his military strategy is held .in "Experience never fails, to prove these happy results in favor of souls who. make good use of the arms and method of the particular examen." The annual retreat is also to be made, as far as possible, after the method of Saint Ignatius. Lastly it is interesting to note that the Ignatian influence affects not only the prayer-life of the Adorer but extends to all her 'em-ployments: "No matter what employment is given her, she shows neither sadness, discontent, disquiet nor unhappiness." Saint Ignatius regarded all things as means to the glory and service of God, and the daughters of Mother Catherine Aurelia are urged to become ac- 37 SISTER MARY OF (~ARMEL Review for Religious quainted with¯ this holy indifference as it was understood by Saint Ignatius. The reciprocal influence of Bishop LaRocque and Mother Cath-erine Aurelia, founder and foundress of the institute,.is summarized in the words which he used when distributing the Rule books to the young community: "I must present the first copy to your Mother Foundress, as the representative of the whole Institt~te, of which she is truly the Mother, as I am the Father. I could have done ¯ nothing without her, as she would have done nothing without me." These lines also evidence the submission of the foundress, who penned the following excellent tribute: "O Father of our religious life, what do we not owe thee for the past! What do we not owe thee for the future--for the doctrine, the spirit you have left us: for the blessed pages that your hand has traced for us." Essential Principles The essential principles which gave birth to Mother Catherine Aurelia's requirements of her spiritual daughters, as found in the Rule and customs and in her writings, are worthy of consideration. There was a definite sense of balance evident in the outlook of the foundress. We can remark this first in her conception of God as holy and merciful. Her realization of His holiness is emphasized in her imposition of adoration and reparation as prima~y duties: and the religious are invited to represent to themselves the greatness, the pow.er, the infinite.majesty of God and their own misery, extreme in-digence, and profound baseness as motives for remaining annihi-lated in the divine presence. God, Who is infinite holiness, is out-raged by the sins of mankind, and Mother Catherine Aurelia calls upon her .daughters to make reparation and, as it were, places in their hands uplifted in prayer the expiatory chalice of the Precious Blood. The infinite mercy of God gives confidence to the religious of the Precious Blood in their intercession for sinners; and day after day, year after year, they plead for them, untiring in their ceaseless quest for souls. How could their efforts wane, with these words of their foundress and leader echoing in their hearts: "Beloved virgins, I conjure you to be holy! To become so, fix your feet on the rock of Calvary. It is ~here you will find the swiftness of the stag in order to run to the conquest of souls without ever deviating from the path which God for this purpose has traced out for you. It is there you will find the strength to fight valiantly and generously. For your 38 ,January, 1954 AURELIAN SPIRITUALITY armour you will have prayer, penance, separation from the world and the mortification of your body, heart and soul." Participating in Mother Catherine Aurelia's conception of Christ, her spir.itual daughters regard Him principally in His charac-ter of Redeemer accomplishing redemption by the shedding of His blood. Each day at the moment which marks the time of His death on Calvary, the religious, prostrate before Him, say: "Jesus has shed all His Blood for love of us and died on the cross. Let us adore Him and thank Him." The approach to Christ is one of reverence and of confidence, from which emanates desire. The intensity of that de-sire bursts forth in sincere efforts to bring to souls the fruits of the Precious Blood shed so fully for all. Christ, the High Priest, by His own blood obtained for us an everlasting redemption, as Saint PauI tells us. In her Rule, in the conferences of her Father Founder and in the counsels of her Mother Foundress, the Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood is invited to regard Christ as her Spouse also, "united with Him no less by sentiments of tender love and persevering piety than they are closely and especially consecrated by the Vows of Religion." Mother Catherine Aurelia's outlook on human nature was a recognition of its potentialities. She saw ir capable, as it is, of op-posites-~ its power to sin, its power to love God. She beheld the sublime possibilities of the human soul aided by grace, never effaced by the greatness of sin because of the power of the redeeming Blood ba treasure of which the Adorers are, in a sense, administrators in the interests of those who are not of the perfect age of grace, retarded by ignorance, indifference, or sin. "By dwelling on creatures the mind is kindled into loving divine goodness. For all the perfections scattered throughout thff universe flow together in him who is the spring of all goodness. If therefore the goodness, beauty and freshness of creatures so draw our hearts, how much more then God who is their source? Creatures are but rivulets, he is the main stream.''~ Thus teaches Saint Thomas Aquinas, and these dispositions towards created things are evident in the writings of Mother Catherine Aurelia. She was conscious of the beauty of nature. By it her thoughts were lifted to heaven and to the omnipotence of God, not to creatures, for even in the most per-fect of them she found inadequacy. 2Thomas Gilby, Philosophical Texts, n. 127. 39 SISTER MARY O1~ CARMEL Review [or Religious' _Perfection Having briefl~r considered these conceptions, it is interesting to observethe ideal ofperfection as it is understood by the members of the.community, an ideal handed down by the founders and fdundress. For their, spiritual daughters, perfection consists in ui~ion with God. They know that religious perfection must built on the foiafidation of Christian perfection'; that all Christians share the obligation to fulfill our divine Lord's command, "Be you therefore perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect"i that the duties coinmon to all the followers of Christ are to b~ fulfilled according to on'd's st~ite with intensity and exactitude. A )eligious must direct ti~i steps tothe perfection of love and in this consists the genera!. spi~!t Of the ~eligio'us state, while she must possess also the particular spirit of her community. For contemplative religious this consists in the" striving after, advancing in, and perfecting of the interior life and:in the faithful dbservance of the rules and constitutions of her c6fiamuni~y. 'Saifit Paul has saitl, "This is tl~e will of God, yotir' Sandtification."" The daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia might v~ith all truth say, "This, my Rule, is the Will of God for me, the means of my sanctification." The. Rule is not mere letteri It is spirit too. The latter gives life and love and meaning to the former. Destiny In the preface of her Rule, the religious is given the glorious des-tiny. of the community--to retrace and reflect, as much as possible, the imag~ of the divine charity in the shedding of .blood. Christ loved His Father in a sublime act of reparation; He.loved mankind in offering to men redemption by His blood. The heart, of the re-ligious must b~, as it were, a replica of the love-filled heart of Christ, offering that-love in which hers is immersed by her fidelity to the obligations she has embraced. Her love for her fellow beings' com-mences in the cloister and reaches out to embrace the world and be-yond. Mother Catherine Aurelia, in the burning desire of her heart, had said that she would like to see the words, "Charity, Union ~nd Concord," written in letters of gold on the wails of all her monas-teries. That was a symbolism of her desire that the perfection of charity be inscribed in the thoughts, words, and deeds of all of her spiritual daughters in their associations with one another. The Crucifixion of Our Lord is the most silent and the most tre- 4O AURELIAN ,SPIRITUALITY mendous "I love y6u" ever known. It is a divine love song Written to the rhythm of blood softly falling from "His great wounds. What an exalted ideal of love is set before the religious! She must bring to souls the fruits of Christ's sacrifice--sanctification and salvation. In doing so she must, as has been stated, retrace and reflect as much as possible the divine charity. Her day is the Passion! Its dawn finds her prostrate in union with.Jesus in the Garden of 0lives. At dusk she is in hdoration of Jesus Christ in the mystery of His death and burial and in adoration of the eternal repose which God takes in Himself. How can she be happy with the weight of divine sorrow ~on-stantly within her? This is one of the delightful paradoxes of our holy faith. The daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia experiences the indescribable happiness bf union with ~he Beloved. Than this, no greater happiness can exist on earth. Moreover she hag the flap: piness of proving her love by participation in His desires, His suf-ferings, and His sacrifice. She has the enviable certainty of knowin~ the willof the Bdloved at each moment of her life and in Him the strength to fulfill it. She enjoys the contentment of doing what she desires to do upon earth in following her ~tocation and has the well-founded hope of continuing in the perfection of her vocation of adorer thrqughout a joyous eternity. The silence of the divine charity which she endeavours to reflect is in her seclusion from the world and, in the cloister, more inti-mately in the hi.ddenness of her life with Christ in God. Particular Ends Sharing the common end of all contemplative religious, the Sis-ters Adorers o~ the Precious Blood have four special ends. (1) To render repeatedly their loving homage to the ~dorable blood of God made Man, poured forth for the sal3ration of the hu-man rude. "To adore[ Ah this is her unique element on earth," Mother Catherine Aurelia had written of each spiritual daughter, and her loving homage is a homage of adoration. Her whole life. is constituted to attain this end, and the means are prudently presented to her in her Rule and hdr Spiritual Directory. (2) To glorify and honor in a particular manner Mary Im-maculate in her Conception. This is a complement of the aim Of her religious life. Seven years after the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception fell from the lips of the Sovereign 41 SISTER MARY OF CARMEL Revieu~ [or Religious pontiff, young Catherine Aurelia and her cofoundresses assumed for themselves and for all generations of their .religious community the joyful obligation of paying special homage to the Mother of God in the exalted privilege of her Immaculate Conception. Long years before Our Lady came from heaven to the Cova da Iria to appeal to all her children to be mindful of bet heart, the foundress appealed to her religious to take their delight in that pure heart, urging them to learn how the holy Heart of Mary takes her greatest delight in the privilege of her Immaculate Conception. Through the Immaculate Virgin we have the Precious Blood. In view of the sbeddlng of the Precious Blood, Mary was given the privilege of immaculacy from the first moment of her conception. It is a necessity that the one devotion be associated with the other. Into the dovecote of Mary's Immaculate Heart, Mother Cather-ine Aurelia placed her daughters. She enkindled in them a courage .which cfin come only in having M~ry Immaculate as their co-worker and mediatrix, "that her daughters might be strengthened. To what purpose? ". to work for the glory of the Blood Divine!" (3) To assiduously adore Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament of the altar. "Assiduously" gives to the religious some idea of the in-tensity of the adoration expected of her. It must be a painstaking, persevering adoration. She is in the presence of the Blessed Sacra-ment many times in the course of the day; but in the moments which constitute her hour of adoration of ,lesus in the Blessed Sacrament, her obligation is more specific, more personal; for then the entire community is depending on her to fulfill in a direct manner in its name the third principal end of its existence. It is then that she is expected to accomplish the desire of ~lesus by offering His blood and with it to unite the offering of her entire being for His service and glory. (4) To devote themselves (as victims), if God will accept them, and continually offer to the Lord the merits of the blood of Jesus Christ to obtain the conversion of sinners. It may be noted here that the Holy See cancelled the expressions "victim," "immolation" in the Rule and Spiritual Directory; and in keeping with the spirit of this directive the Sisters themselves changed the dialogue in the cere-monial of profession. However, since it is evident that Rome did not object to the idea of complete self-giving which the founders in-tended by such expressions as "victim" and "immolation," the founders' writings are kept unchanged. 42 danua~/, 1954 AURELIAN ~PIRITUALITY "Many souls go to Hell because there is no one to make sacrifices for them." These words of Our Lady of Fatima remind forgetful mankind of the fecundity of sacrifice and of our duties towards our fellow beings. Meditation on them will bring a realization of the saneness of this particular end of the vocation of a Sister Adorer of the Precious Blood and of the necessity of this purpose. Because many do not make their share of sacrifices for sinners, there must be others who will assume the responsibility of filling up what is wanting on the part of the human race. The indifference, ingrati-tude, and sinfulness with which the Precious Blood is treated, the want of respon.se .to divine love, urge the daughter of Mother Cath-erine Aurelia to embrace her vocation as a reparatory soul, and over and dyer again she is reminded of this by her holy founders and foundress. She "offe.rs herself in union with Him, her.Model, and her Spouse of Blood." The merits of that blood are ransom which she offers for the conversion of sinners. F.rom.her fidelity to this purpose of her vocation emanates a consolidation of true interests, a solidarity which strongly unites her to her fellow creatures through-out the world although she is exteriorly separated from them by the nature of that vocation and the sacrifices she has embraced. Suffering Suffering is inseparable from man during his sojourn on earth. His attitude towards it affects his endurance of it, for endure it he must. A burden willingly assumed is a lighter burden. Mother Catherine Aurelia regarded suffering as an opportunity. Every occasion of it was grasped avidly because she had a true sense of its value. Her Redeemer and Spouse had taught her this and her life was a testimony of her appreciation of the cross. She called her spiritual daughters "Virgins of Calvary" and referred to sufferings as their jewels. To a woman, jewels are precious because of their value, and they are an adornment. See, then, what sufferings are to the Adorer of'the Precious Blood! They are not depressing, some-thing to be avoided. They are a precious adornment. Just as the wounds of Jesus are an eternal, glorious proof of His infinite love for us, sufferings willingly accepted are,. to the daughter of Mother Catherine Aurelia,' so many opportunities of imitating her Spouse, of making her like unto Him, and of testifying her love--small wounds indeed compared to the great wounds of Christ, and often,hidden; but wounds, nevertheless, telling Him of her responding love. On SISTER MARY OF (~ARME~L Review [or Religious the occasion of taking her departure from a daughter-house of her community, the foundress said, "I leave happy in the thought that we are going to suffer and' to suffer much." This was not an atti-tude occasioned by an isolated circumstance, but it was her constant regard for the cross. Labour "St. Thomas considered the contemplative life, to which are added exterior Works, the most useful and meritorious. This life is yours, for though contemplatives, you have your hours of work ac-cording to the Rules and obedlence. Thus wrote Bisl~op LaRocque and thus, too, did Mother Catherine Aurelia regard labour: "Wholly penetrated with sentiments imbibed from the pious ex~rcises of prayer, of Mass and of Holy Communion, the Sisters will each morning take up with holy joy the yoke of labour and observanc.es truly crucifying. They will submit thereto like humble sinners, dbing eveiytbing' in a spirit of expiation, and to accomplish the special end of our Institute, which is to save souls, not only by player but also by work, which our blessed Father Founder regarded a~ one of our principal penances." Again, Bishop LaRocque im-posed labour upon the members of the community as a compensation for the austerities of the great religious orders. A thirst for fruitful penance was expected of his spiritual daughters. This is to be satis-fied by the joyful acceptance of the work allotted to them; a gen-erosity in assisting the overburdened; a peace, calmness, 'and gravity in the performance of their ta~k~. The horary of t'he. community presents a well-ordered" day, gua.rding the hours of prayer from the " intrusion of ill-regulated manual duties, and instilling into the hours of Work the spirit of continual prayer. Glory to the Blood of Jesus . - Glory has been defined as knowledge to which is linked admi~a-tion, as splendour, honour, renown. In these definitions we per-ceive that the "heart-cry" of the daughter of Mother Catherine Au-relia, sincerely accepted, is weighted with a responsibility~a respon-sibility to do all within her power, assisted and enlightened by 'God, to increase her knowledge of the mystery of the Precious Blood; arid as that knowJedge becomes expansive, there emanates a relatively in-creasing admiration, . and the Sister Adorer is filled with the desire to give glory to the blood of Jes{as. It is her duty, as well as her de-sire, to pray incessantly that the Precious Blood may be known; 44 January, 1954 "APPARITIONS" OF OUR LADY loved, and received with ardent faith by all men: It is therefore ob-vious that the plan of Redemption, the Incarnation, the seven blood-sheddings, the Sacred Passion and death of Our Redeemer, and the Blessed Sacrament are subjects for meditative prayer dear to the heart of every Adorer, for in them her knowledge is increased and her zeal animated to radiate from the. confines of her hidden life to souls throughout the world; and for them her supplications become more fervent that their knowledge, too may increase and that fitting homage to the adorable Precious Blood ensue. These dispositions must impregnate each moment of the life of the Adbrer, and the very beginning of her foundress's sublime, "Remember, O my DaughtEr," bursts with startling suddenness into the words that bring an awareness of the obligation attendant on her throughout each moment of her life, "that the cry of thy heart should be, 'Glory to the Blood'," and in this is the unifying and culminating purpose of the varied duties of her particular vocation. The spirit of the community is a challenge that is taken'to, the extent of the individual's understanding and appreciation of the concept!ons of the founders and foundress and to the extent also of her own generosity aided by the grace of God. "APPARITIONU' OF OUR LADY° The August, 1952, number of The Clergy Monthly contains a list of alleged apparitions of Our Lady during the years, 1931-50. The list was first published. by a German magazine in Europe in December, 1951; and up ,to that time only two of the apparitions had been approved by ecclesiastical authorities, whereas four-teen had been rejected. Six were still undecided. Whether any further decision has been made on these six, we do not know. Following is the list as it appeared in The Clergy Monthly: Approved 1932/33 Beauraing, Belgium. 2 boys. 3 girls. 1933: Banneux, Belgium, 1 girl--12 years old. 8 apparitions. Rejected, 1931: Ezquioga, Spain. 2children: later up to 150 "seers." 1937/40: Heede, Westphalia. 4 girls--12-14 years, old. apparitions. 1944: Bergamo, Italy. 1 girl--7 years old.12 apparitions. 1947 : Bouxieres-aux-Dames, Belgium, 1947: Espis, France. 1947/49: Forstweiler, Wiirttemberg. 1 woman. 8 apparitions. 1948: Assisi, Italy. Crowd. A statue of Mary moves. 1948: Gimigliano, Italy. 1 girl--13 years old. More than 100 45 PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS 1948: Lipa, Philippines. 1 postulant in a convent¯ 1948: Aspang, Austria. 1 man~61 years old. 1949: Fehrbach, Palatinate. 1 girl--12 years old. 8everal apparitions. 1949: Hasznos, Hungary. Crowd. 1949: Lublin, Poland. Crowd. "Our Lady weeps." 1949/50: Heroldsbach, Bavaria. 4 girls and other children. Many apparitions. Undecided 1945: Codosera, Spain. 1 girl--10 years old; later up to 100 "seers." ¯ 1946: Pfaffenhofen, Bavaria. 1 girl--22 years old. 3 apparitions. 1947: Tre Fontane, Rome. 1 man, 3 children. 1947: Urucaina, Brasil. 1 priest. (Cures.) 1948: Cluj, Rumania. Crowd. 1950: Acquaviva Platani,. Sicily. 1 girl--12 years old. 7 apparitions. PAMPHLETS AND BOOKLETS THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin: The Chris-tian Life Calendar, by Rev. Gabriel W. Hafford and Rev. George Kolanda. $1.00. CATECHETICAL GUILD EDUCATIONAL SOCIETY, St. Paul 1, Minnesota: Mary Talks to Us, by Don Sharkey. 15 cents.--The Family Rosary, by Joseph A. Breig. 15 cents. FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, Chicago 10, Illinois: Con[irmation, 25 cents, THE GRAIL, St. M~inrad, Indiana: From Five to Nine, by Bruno McAndrew, O.S.B. 25 cents.--Our Mother, by Emile Neubert, S.M. 25 cents.~ur Lady of the Hermit, by Paschal Boland, O.S.B. 5 cents.--Little Saints, by John and Margaret Moore. $1.50.---Friends Indeed, by Robert Wood, S.M. 15 ccnts.-~Be You Perfect, by Robert B. Eiten, S.J. 15 cents.--The Mass Year. 35 cents.--His Name Is desus, by Julia C. Mahon. $2.00. SCAPULAR PRESS, New York City 16, New York: Life with Mary, by Thomas McGinnis, O. Carm. 50 cents. SHEED AND WARD, New York 3, New York: Are We Really Teaching Relig-ion?, by F. J. Sheed. 75 cents. ST. JAMES FRIARY, Riverton, Illinois: My Spiritual Director, by Ft. Athana-sius Steck, O.F.M. 50 cents. TEMPLEGATE, PUBLISHERS, Springfield, Illinois: A Map of Prayer, by Fr. R. H. J. Steuart, S.J.--The Path of Prayer, by Ft. Vincent McNabb, O.P.-- Contemplative Prayer, by Pete de la Taille, S.J.--The One Thin9 Necessary, by Rev. Bruno Scott James.-~Detight In The Lord, by Fr. Daniel Considine, S.J.-- Fifty Meditations on the Passion, by Archbishop Goodier, S.J.--Wbat Is Contem-plation, by. Thomas Merton, O.C.S.O.--A Treatise on Interior Prayer, by Dom Innocent Le Masson.--Meditations on the Litany of the Sacred Heart, by Juliana of Norwich.--"A More Excellent Way," by Archbishop Goodier, S.J.--Treatise on the Religious Life, by Dom Innocent Le Masson. 35 cents for each booklet. 46 THE SPIRITUALITY OF ST. IGNATIUS LOYOLA. By Hugo Rahner, S.J. Translated by Francis John Smith, S.J. Pp. xvll -I- 142. The Newman Press, Westm;nsfer, Maryland: 1953. $2.75. Although the title does not suggest it, Father Hugo Rahner's purpose in this book is "to present the development of the essential features and history of the spirit; of service in the Church." St. Ignatius Loyola was a man of the Church with an ideal of perfection essentially formed by service in the Church. Hence, the origin of his spirituality provides the author with a concrete ex-a, mple in which to study the development of the essential features of the spirit of service. Each of the three influences that went into the spirituality crystallized in the Spiritual Exercises is considered: first, the influence of Ignatius's family, country, and culture: then, the in-fluence of traditional Christian piety, especially as it reached Ignatius in the Imitation of Christ and in the spiritual readin~ of.his conva-lescence- conversion at Loyola (Ludolph of Saxony's The Life of Christ and Jacopo de Voragine's The Golden Legend); finally, the decisive influence of the mystical illumination granted to the saint at Manresa along the banks of the River Chrdoner. In this experience "Ignatius, the pilgrim and the penitent, was made over into the man of the Church"; here he became aware of how his limitlessly ex-pansive love for God was to be submitted to the service and given form within the visible Church. Turning from the development to the history of the spirit of service in the Church, Father Rahner merely indicates the historical continuity of this spirit by sketching its characteristics in a few key "men of the Church": the first St. Ignhtius, of Antioch (whose name Inigo de Loyola appropriated after his conversion), St. Basil, St. Benedict, St. Augustine ("the greatest of all the men of the Church"), the Sienese Saints Bernardine and Catherine. In this perspective St. Ignatius of Loyola appears as one of the long series of providential figures raised up by the Holy Spirit at critical times in history to re-emphasize the truth that there is no true service of God that is not service somehow in the visible Church. This study is as rich as it is brief. The text reads so easily (thanks to the fully satisfactory translation by Francis J. Smith, S.J.) that one needs to consider the twenty full pages of documenta- 47 BOOK NOTICES Reoietv for Religious tion in order to realize that Father Rahner has given us here nothing but the distilled essence of an immense work of research. All who love "that true spouse of ,Jesus Christ, our holy Mother, the hier-archical Church" will be grateful for the understanding of the spirit of service in the Church afforded by'this book. All to whom Ig-natian spirituality is important will find in Father Rahner's work a most penetrating insight into the meaning Of the Spiritual Exercises. --JOHN FRANCIS CLARKSON, S.,J. BOOK NOTICES REDEMPTIVE INCARNATION, by Albert L. Schlitzer, C.S.C., continues Notre Dame's University Religion Series, Theology for' the Layman. This book covers the matter usually treated under Christology, Soteriology, and Mariology in seminary manuals. The topics are proposed as questions in pleasing imit~ition of St. Thomas Aquinas. In each case the theological sources are cited: Sacred Scrip- " ture, Fathers of the Church, councils, papal decrees--all concluded by a clear statement of the theological development of doctrine. In-cluded at the end of each chapter are review questions and addenda showing the impact on daily life of the truth studied. Differences of opinion among theologians are sometimes indicated but generally not developed. Little space is given to modern speculative develop-ments. Thus the Blessed Virgin Mary as co-redemptrix in objective redemption is barely mentioned and hesitatingly so. No mention is made of human solidarity with Christ in His redemptive "work. Nothing is said of Mary's Queenship. But professors of college re-ligion may very, profitably examine this paper-bound book before selecting a~ text for their classes. It is a theological work, devoted to sources and an understanding of the faith, rather than a mere phi-losophy of religion. (Notre Dame, Indiana: University ~f Notre Dame Press, 1953. Pp. x -t- 337. $2.50). All religious should be interested in PROGRESS IN THE RELI~ GIOUS LIFE, by' Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. The book is written with the priest-religious in mind, but everything in it is of val,ue to all re-ligious. Father Kelly's basic principle is that the religious life is a call to growth in perfection; in other words, the divine call which brings one to the novitiate does .not stop with the taking of vows~ We are all called to make progress, and the reading of this book will danuarg, 195 4 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS encourage us to answer the call. It gives an analysis of the meaning of progress and then in a very practical way shows how the mature religious can and does make progress through the use of the sacra-ments, prayer, the vows, and the other things that make up the life of a religious. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1953. Pp. 128. $2.50.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BRUCE PUBLISHING CO., 400 N. Broadway, Milwaukee 1, Wis-consin. , , The Quest ot: Honor. By E. Boyd Barrett. "Honor," writes the author, "calls for courage andindependence; it demands that a man be indifferent to what people may say or think. Honor is con-cerned about doing what is right, and not about winning p~aise." The short chapters in the' book contain much good advice on how to be honorable. Pp. xi ~ 122. $2.50. Character Calendar. By Sister M. Fidelis, S.S.N.D., and Sister M. Charitas, S.S.N.D. Revised edition by Sister M. Charitas. Con-tains a practical meditation, based on the liturgy, for each day of the year. Pp. viii + 280: $1.85 (paper). The Less Traveled Road. By Rev. M. Raymond, O.C.S.O. A memoir of Dom Frederic Mary Dunne, O.C.S.O., the first American Trappist Abbot. "I have found Him using the Trappist life to form Dom Frederic, and Dom Frederic to form the Trappist life. So I am going to try to give you a glimpse of the divine Smithy at work and to show how He hammers a soul on the anvil of time to shape it and temper it for eternity." This is the author's promise; the book is its fulfillment. Pp. viii ÷ 250. $3.50. Mg Monthlg Recollection Day. A compilation from the spir-itual treasury of Very Rev. William Gier, S.V.D., edited by Bruno. Hagspiel, S.V.D. Contain~ a meditation or conference for each monthly-recollection day throughout the year; also introductory and concluding spiritual thoughts and practices. Pp. x ÷ 177. $2.50. A Rich Young Man. By dohn E. Beahn. A partly fictional story of St. Anthony of Padua. Pp. 250. $3.25. Spiritual Steps to Christmas. By Very Rev. Msgr. Aloysit~s F. 49 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Coogan. "A thought a day through Advent to the glory and peace of Christmas morning is the substance of this book." Pp. 116., $2.25. Paul the Apostle. By Giuseppe Ricciotti. Translated by Alba Zizzamia. This author of a fascinating Life of Christ says: "It seemed I should continue for the disciple the work I had done on the Master." The present book shows that the life of the disciple may be summed up in his own words: "Be imitators of me as I am of Christ." A scholarly study, with complete general index and special index of Scripture quotations. Pp. xi -[- 540. $7.50. THE FAMILY ROSARY, 432 Western Ave., Albany 3, N.Y. Father Pettton's Rosary Pra!ler Book. Contains 180 short reflec-tions pertaining to the Mysteries of the Rosary. Material "prepared by a Trappist monk at the request of Father Peyton. Pocket-size, beautifully printed, and well bound. Pp. xxviii+228. $1.00. FIDES, 25 est, rue Saint-Jacques, Montreal, Canada. Principes de Vie Sacerdotale et t~e[igieuse. By the Most Rev. AI-bert- F. Cousineau, C.S.C., former Superior General of the Congre-gation of the Holy Cross. Contains a brief biography and an expo-sition of the spirituality of Father Moreau, the founder of the Con-gregation of the Holy Cross. Pp. 262. $2.00 (paper). FORDHAM UNIVERSITY PRESS, New York 58, N.Y. The Training of Cor~verts. Contains the record of the first mis-siological conference ever held in the United States. Pp. vii -}- 165. $2.00 (paper). $1.50 in lots of ten or more. M. H. GII~L AND SON, LTD., 50 Upper O'Connell St., Dublin, Ire-land. A Guide for Catholic Teachers. By M. T. Marnane. In the Preface to this book, the Archbishop of Dublin says: "This book will show with cogent and persuasive warmth the method by which a Catholic teacher may, while striving for due professional excel-lence, achieve the goal of bringing the mind and will and body and emotions of every pupil into c,aptivity to the truth of Jesus Christ." Pp. xiv q- 164. 9s. 6d. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Nothing but Christ. By Killian McDonnell, O.S.B. A.Bene-dictine approach to lay spirituality, designed to help men and wom-en in the world to live a spiritual life according to the spirit 6f St. Benedict. Pp. xiv + 185. $2.00. .50 ,danuary, 1954 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS B. HERDER BOOK CO., 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. General Education and The Liberal College. By William F. Cunningham, C.S.C. The book is the fruit of much thought and discussion on the part of leading Catholic educators in the United States who had worked for more than a decade on the problem of Catholic liberal education. Pp. xvii -}- 286. $4.00. E. M. LOHMANN COMPANY, 413 Sibley St., St. Paul 1, Minn. Large Saint Andrew Dail~t Missal. An entirely new edition of this very popular missal, prepared by Dom Gaspar Lefebvre, O.S.B. It contains the latest Masses; proper feasts for the United States; various feasts kept in some places or by certain religious communi-ties (e.g., St. Maria Goretti, St. Louise de Marilloc) ; larger type for notes, commentaries, and the English text throughout the Missal; the Easter Vigil; etc. Available in same bindings and prices as the previous edition with the exception of the cheapest binding, which is now $6.25 (formerly $6.00). MCMULLEN BooKs, INC., 22 Park Place, New York 7, N.Y. Light on the Mountain. By John S. Kennedy. The story of La Salette, told "with a freshness and charm that will delight all." Pp. 205. $3.00. The Story of Father Price. By John C. Murrett, M.M. This is an abridgment of the author's original biography of the cofounde~ of Maryknoll, Tar Heel Apostle. Pp. 116. $i.50. Come, Holy Ghost. By Bishop Francis Xavier Ford, M.M., D.D. Contains twenty short chapters, each developing some aspect of devotion to the Holy Ghost, especially with reference to one of the invocations of the "Veni, Sancte Spiritus." . Pp. xii -4- 113. $1.50. St. John of God. By Norbert McMahon. The story of the founder of the Hospitallers of St. John-of-God and patron of the sick and the dying. A very readable biography. Pp. 205. $2.75. Jesus, Son of Mar~ . By Most Rev. Fulton J. Sheen. Illustrated by Rafaello Busoni. Bishop Sheen's only juvenil'e; first published in 1947. $I.00. MONASTERY OF THE VISITATION, Wilmington, Delaware. "'The Siloer is Mine." A brief history of St. Joseph's Monastery of the Visitation in Wilmington, Delaware, commemorating the first centenary of foundation from the Monastery of Montluel, France. Pp. xii q- 117. 51 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. ' John the Baptist. By Andr~ R~tif. A study of The Precursor, especially with reference to Scripture and the writings of the Fathers. Pp. x -b 122. $2.50. Wb~ I Entered the CoJ~oent. Edited by Rev. George L. Kane. In the Preface the editor aptly states: "There are scores of helpful books and pamphlets on the subject of religious vocation, but most of these are, of their nature, abstract and general. There seemed a need in vocational literature for case histories to show the applica-tion of the theological principles in specific instances and to manifest the workings of God's grace in individual souls. It is the hope of the authors and the editor that this book will help to supply that need." A random sampling of these accounts by twenty-one Sisters indicates that the hope is realized. A real contribution to vocational litera-ture. Introduction by the Archbishop of Boston. Pp. xvii q- 214. $2.50. PRENTICE-HALL, INC., 70 Fifth Ave., New York 11, N.Y. The Springs of Silence. By Madeline DeFrees (Sister Mary Gilbert, S.N.3.M.). Another story of a religious vocation and of life in the convent, told with simplicity, with delicate realism, with a fine sense for the humorous--without overdoing it or forcing it. Well written, well printed, and attractively illustrated by Hazard Durfee. Pp. x -t- 173. $2.95. FREDERICK PUSTET (20., 14 Barclay St., New York 8, N.Y. Trinitg Whom I Adore. By Dom Eugene V.andeur, O.S.B. The prayer of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, with a commentary. Translated from the French by the Dominican Nuns of Corpus Christi Monastery, Menlo Park, California. Pp. xxviii -f- 163. $2.75. SHEED ~ WARD, 830 Broadway, New York 3, N.Y. Shepherd's Tartan. By Sister Mary Jean Dorcy, O.P. A man (meaning the male of the species) has to begin this book by looking up the meaning 6f "tartan." He finds that the
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Issue 29.2 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to -Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley;,Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis. Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and cop':'rlgi~t ~) 1970 by R~-:w~-:\v at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S,A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing ot~ces. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should b~ accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where a¢com. panied by a remittance, should be sent to R£VlI~W ~on Rtt.tetous; P, O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203, Changes of address, busine~ correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to R£vl~w R~I~o~s ; 42B East Preslon ~treet; Balfimo~, Mawland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and ~oks for review should be sen~ ~o R~v~w roa R~mvs; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ulevard Saint ~ouis, Mi~ouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address the ~u~fioas and ~we~ ~itor. MARCH 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 2 Meditative Description of the Gospel Counsels Introductory Statement" Framed* in words and concepts Iamiliar to the last third o[ the twentieth century, this meditative descrip-tion oI the vows accents the pgetic nature of religious li[e: the "more than" dimension to a faith-existence; the contemplative, "'being" aspect oI religious consecration; the "useless" character o] anything which is an art, any-thing which is beautiIul. RELIGIOUS VOWS We share the richness of the lived experience of vowed commitment, as an institute and as individual members. Because of the radical and rapid changes occurring in society, we are called upon to re-think and re-articulate the meaning and purpose of religious consecration in today's world. It is a fact that we are now living our promises differently; therefore, there is a present need to speak of them differently. Today, more than ever, we need a positive explana-tion of the vows. Renunciation and detachment will always he valid and essential elements of this radical, total commitment. However, we must presently seek greater understanding of the YES aspect--the CHOICE OF LIFE. A spotlight on religious communities should reveal real people who live fully, love deeply, give totally, and enjoy life immensely. The three vows of consecrated celibacy, poverty, and obedience manifest the centrality of commitment to Christ in community. All three vows are facets of this ¯ This-meditative essay on the counsels was written at the request of the special general chapter of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union in the United States. Four sisters o~ the Union cooperated in writing the essay: Sister M. Catherine Daly, R.S.M.; Sister Patricia Smith, R.S.M.; Sister Marjorie Bosse, R.S.M.; and Sister M. Evangeline McSloy, R.S.M. The essay is printed in the R~v~w through the kindness of the superior general o[ the Union, Sister Mary Regina Cunningham, R.S.M.; Sisters of Mercy Generalate; I0000 Kentsdale Drive; P.O. Box 34446, Bethesda Post Office; Washington, D.C. 20034. + + ÷ The Counsels VOLUME 2~ 1970 193 The Coimsei~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 194: same reality. They are means to unity---community-- with God and with one another. Our vows can open us to all reality and, at the same time, help us to transcend, to .go beyond persons--to Person. CONSECRATED CELIBACY Chri~to~entric in inspiration and in direction, con-secrated celibacy, like all Christian values, has many dimensions. It is community-oriented, gift, faith-grounded, directed to the work of Christ, sign of what creation is and is called to be. In today's function-cen-tered, production-conscious society, the "waste" of celibate living signs to the absolute worth of the human person, to the being (as distinct from the doing) of man. Practica~ly and theologically, the celibate should be the universal pilgrim--moving on, challenging, opening up .narrowness, questioning preconceptions and vested interests. The religious, supported in her celibate com-mitment through community, signs beyond herself to the possibility of community. CONSECRATED CELIBACY is a free gift, a charism to be like Jesus Christ-- motivated by love [rom and for God to give undivided attention to the things of the Lord (I Cor 7:35) and to share in realizing God's kingdom. The celibate woman is sustained in faith because of God's promise to be ever faithful (Jr 31:33, 1 Pt 2:10; and so forth), experienced and nurtured in the dying-rising of the Paschal nlystery, trusting that there is a "more than" dimension to human life, to all reality. In her being and doing, the celibate stands as a sign of , God's love and active presence. By her being, she signs a~ a pledge, promise of harvest, hope (Key 14:4-5) to the proclamation of God's primacy in creation, to the reign of God as absolute, creative, fulfilling in her life, to the "already but not yet" tension between Christ'S first and final cosmic victory, to God's power in human weakness. Her consecration of her entire person to God, over and above any functional value she may offer, signs to the absolute worth of the human person in a tech-nological, bureaucratic world as a challenge to the priorities of that world. By her doing, she moves as pilgrim dynamically resdess, challenging preconceptions of ~'normality," the defini-tion of what it is to be human, and what it is to love humanly-- stepping in faith beyond the immediate to the uni-versal, signing to the personal, non-exclusive, non-possessive, and growth-giving love of God ¯ Bound to no one small circle, as Gospel woman ~he lives the Good News of Jesus Christ calling the whole human race, challenging any idol-atry of a particular nation, culture, religion, and so forth, free (and freeing others) for servi~ce, availability, heal-ing. Her use of her body signs that woman's sexuality is to be dedicated to many things; that to be woman is to be sensitive, kind, to speak truth, to share an interpersonal love . The celibate religious woman lives in a community built not on blood ties, ~ ~ but on a mutual drawing of person to person, and persons to Person, on ties of shared faith in divine power (Lk 1:49), shared vision of all that creation, under the Lordship of Christ, can be, shared support in her commitment to celibate lovingm witnessing to the possibilit~ of unity in a cosmos where men are searching to be one. VOWED POVERTY Christian history from its earliest beginning to the present day holds poverty to be a necessary part of the ~u'isdan life. It is a living out of the Gospel message: a genuine pilgrim people, humble and serving. Today more than ever before, however, poverty needs to be un-derstood in this true Christocentered approach. The "poor of Yahweh" must be grasped before visible ways of witnessing to poverty will be found. No longer can legislative interpretations be the guide to sharing in the poverty of Christ. P, eligious are living poverty differ-ently today and need to give expression to it in a whole new style of life---in a whole new manner of being; and of giving and sharing. The following statement is a simple meditative ap-proach to poverty which may hopefully stimulate a con-temporary thrust toward a creative reality of poverty in the lives of religious women vowed to poverty. The Counsels REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 196 POVERTY is a dynamic human attitude toward life uniquely personal in expression seeking less to have than to be, and, in being to give expressing, personally and communally, a deep rever-ence for persons and things. Living in the manner of Jesus Christ, one vowed to. poverty accepts her total condition empties herself (Ph 2:1-I 1) seeks out the neighbors in need, using her gifts to serve them works in the same condition as people work today-- for a living. The woman truly poor, strives through her promise to trust fully in God as provider of all, even of life itself (Mr 6:25-34) to live without the assurance of tomorrow, in the glad-ness of today to accept humbly whatever God calls her to, to free herself of all unfreedoms, that she may share her person to offer all: voice to speak hands to touch~ heart to love openhandedly, to God's people through community In community, one vowed to poverty shares in the work of Christ: building the kingdom in an effort to affect more just distribution of wealth in personal responsibility for being collectively poor in the fruits of ordered minimalness: peace, joy in the present; hope, faith for the future In community of mercy, those vowed stand together corporately committed to simplicity of life possessing only to serve as a public sign before the world of Christ's all-sharing love stewards of the Master's goods held in trust-- feeding thepoor healing the sick teaching the uneducated visiting the needy, and so forth-- conscious that all things are theirs, that they are Christ's that Christ is God's (1 Cor 3:23) RELIGIOUS OBEDIENCE This description of obedience attempts to penetrate the meaning of an attitude much praised in Scripture: attentiveness to" God and readiness to do His will. Such an attitude is characteristic of the person who seeks out the ultimate meanings o[ things and goes beyond limita-tions: the person who lives by faith. This kind of person seems quite welcome in our contemporary world, par-adoxical though this might seem, agonized as this world might be over its own failures to promote human life, despite its marvelous successes in science and technol-ogy., athirst as it might be for those ultimates, those "beyonds" that give real meaning to life. OBEDIENCE is the power to seek out, to listen, and to hear the will of God. and the responsiveness, the readihess, to do it. Christians seek God's will in the leading of the Spirit speaking in the Christian community (Jn 1:29-51) Christ promised that the Father would send. "the Paradete, the Spirit of truth" (Jn 16:7-15) And they try to live as He did, whose very food was "to do the will of the Father" (Jn 4:80-8; 6) Religious vow to look for the Spirit,s promptings, and to do God's will with that community in which they have given them-selves, sure in faith that God will reveal His will among them, through the initiative and submission of all of them. through their personal struggles and mutual efforts to keep open to the truth in each one, accepting, appreciating, rejoicing in the different gifts among them, sure in faith, that He will make His will known ac-cording to role and need. Religious in positions of authority try to discern God's will by actively using all channels. It is a new insight on an old truth that the one governing is most in need. of the power to Obey. to listen., to hear. The call to leadership is a call to unify. Religious today realize anew, as did God's people in the Old Testament, that the Spirit speaks to the whole humart family through other signs, the "signs of the times": conditions, like afttuence and poverty, awareness of human dignity, racial tensions; events, like flights to the moon, assassinations and crime, team-work, celebrations, protests and dis-discoveries; people, like Eichmann and Ghandi, John Kennedy + + ÷ The Counsels VOLUME 2% 1970 and Martin Luther King, Jr., Dag'Hammarskjold, Dorothy Day, Jolm the XXlII, Darwin, Einstein, and Marx. PARADOXICALLY, The person who is growing in genuine obedience ~ 'becomes more and more humanly free (He who loses His life shall find it, Mt 10:39) Such a person becomes more and more attuned to the transcendent, alive to community, available for service, responding always anew ("God, here I aml I am coming to obey your will,'" Hb 10:7) + ÷ + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GENERAL CONCLUSION The basic affirmation of Christian life: that God is our end, that all else is means, lies at the core of our under-standing of the vows. Ways of channeling our baptismal commitment, they proclaim publicly a choice of avail-ability, service. They point toward possibilities---of hu-man commitment, enduring fidelity, growth in process, becoming. They speak of and call us to live---a mystery. RELIGIOUS VOWS are means, signs of a personal choice: a commitment in faith to the God who is both among and beyond His people; a life orientation toward possibilities fo~ human actualization and for apostolic service; a radical attempt to incarnate the gospel message by living like Jesus Christ. Framed in terms of covenant, the vows intensify the God-man covenant made at baptism; acknowledge God's greatest gift--that He first loved us in Jesus Christ; express a human response to that gift; include the covenant relationship between God and the person, the person and her community. Public in nature, ecclesial in character, religious vows boldly proclaim as a "splendid and striking witness": a stance of constant presence before God, constant openness to the Holy in human life; an attitude of constant striving for more total avail-ability to God and to His people; gratitude for the mercy continually received from God through His people; communal commitment to the kingdom and to its com-ing. In a cosmos and among men viewed in terms of "proc-ess," religious vows attempt to express certain hu-man possibilities: of total self-giving, both in being and be~:oming; of fidelity amid change; of commitment not sterilely binding but creative; of growing in oneness in a fragmented so(Jety; of living mystery, in and through the Spirit, in a prob-lem- solving world. VOLUME 2% 1970 199, SISTER MARY FINN "Live--Do Not Be Overtaken by Death" ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Finn of the Home Visi-tors of Mary lives at 356 Arden Park; Detroit, Michigan 48202. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS I spend my evenings in an abandoned store a few blocks from our home in Detroit. The store is in the black community and is opened as a center for teenage boys. Last Spring we placed in the window a large pic-ture of the Black Christ. Invariabl~ every young man who stops and stands before the picture and looks--even for an instant--straightens up, puts his shoulders back, and stands tall. What loftiness is stirred whenever a man is faced and inspired and called beyond himself by an-otherl Great spirit and dignity and grace rise up when-ever a man stands before life. In looking up to this beau-tiful Black Christ young men are meeting the One who says: "I come that you may have life--more abun-dantly." A word today for someone who has life is "soul." When a black teenage dropout exclaims "Jesus has soul, man," he means very reverently what the Gospel means when Matthew says: "Jesus was led by the Spirit," or "Jesus is the way, the truth, the life," or "Jesus came that we might find life." Is there anything the ghetto searches for more than life? Anything the affluent, the student, the addict is more desperate for--than life? Our entire culture is hungry for life. Death prevails and abounds all around. We are men and women enclosed in a machine-centered world; encapsulated by professionalism and technology and humanitarianism; asphyxiated by accumulation of things and manipulation for power and craving for pleasure. Where does a man turn for life? What are the alternatives? Who are the sources of life in a technolog-ical culture? Religious are a people consecrated--really consecrated --to life in the midst of death. If ever our American culture needed religious people and institutions it is now --to show the individuals and institutions of our society that there really is an alternative to death., specifi-cally death.by-power, and death-by-wealth, and death- .by-pleasure. The alternative to dea.th-by-wealth is my vowed life of poverty. The alternative to death-by-power is my vowed life of obedience. The alternative to death-by- pleasure is my vowed, life of celibacy. This is the glory of religious life--that in ~/day when man is seduced unto death there are men and women and institutions consecrated to life. The glory of religious life is to bring men and institutions to LIFE. There are people in the world with a profound sense of life and people in the world with a deprived sense of life---life lovers and death lovers; people who lift up and people who cast down. I am a strange mixture of both. There is the death lover in me and the life lover in me: Reality is almost always experienced in the form of people, things, events. The death lover in me is fasci-nated by what is lifeless. I am scared and frightened by the wonder and mystery of life; so to protect myself from living I have all sorts of ways of exploiting people. The death lover in me handles people, manipulates them, disposes of people mechanically. I crave my own suc-cess and safety and will suppress a person who threatens me.The "music teacher" in Death at an Early Age is so threatened by the life, the artistry of 6th graders that she finds multiple ways to protect herself from life--to the point of kindly:killing creativity in the chil-dren. She squeezes the life out of one child, then another, and another, and finally brings about their death and the institution's death--all for her own safety. Only when she feels successful and becomes "master" of the child and has the child "under her control"--only then can she "praise" him. She literally kills the child; she desecrates life, snuffs inner life right out of a youngster because she herself is so deathly afraid of life. The death lover can't possibly be celibate with people because death-centeredness is violent and irreverent with life and to be celibate means to revere life--to initiate, foster, sustain life in a wonderful varie, ty 0f ways. This is'how the death-lover in me relates to people. Toward things the death lover in me is possessive. I ollect,~,hoard, and secure every little creature I desire, I'm threatened by what .I'm unable to possess and up-tight and" upset when. my "things" are slightly out of order. The woman in the Old Testament, who falsely claims to be mother of the child, is typical of the pos-sessiveness of the death lover. She prefers a properly divided dead child than to allow, the true mother pos-session of her living child. The,death lover can't possibly be poor because poverty VOLUME 29, 1970 ,REVIEW FOR REL[G[OUS 20~ is freedom from domination by things and liberation from enslavement to things. The death lover in me is possessed and "run by dead things." Toward events the death lover in me is fearful and forceful. I am dominated by a compulsion to control and master; power-hungry. My supreme values are power and order and having the situation under control--so well under control there is no room for variety or growth or spontaneity. The death lover in me runs the world like a great big machine. The death lover can't possibly obey because obedience means to listen and be responsive and available to the voice of life all around me. There is also the life lover in me, and the life loving me has special attitudes toward reality. As life lover I have a profound reverence for life--for people, th!ngs, events. I experience people with great joy and have a sense and belief in their almost unbelievable and won-derful individuality. For the life lover, every person is a special presence to be encouraged and brought more and more deeply to life. The death lover in me makes the individuality and uniqueness of the other a target--to be picked at and shot down. There is a lot of the sniper in the death lover. The life lover has a profound rev-erence for the life and specialness and individuality of the other, and when the other appears as unique the life lover in me becomes even more alive by coming to the support of the other who is being born in a new way. I foster and nourish the individuality of the other to be-come even more herself--more unique and individual. The death lover in me is scared and frightened and threatened by the specialness of the other so I become insecure with my own individuality. The life lover in me admires and promotes the specialness of the other and is at home and responsible for both the extensions and limitations of my own individuality. The attitude of reverence for my own individuality and the specialness of the other person is beautifully ex-perienced and expressed and sustained by vowed celi-bacy. My celibacy is an alternative to death-by-pleasure; a fundamental reverence for people--my own self and the self of other people. To be truly celibate means to be touched by life, to be brought alive by the uniqueness of the other and to bring others alive by my own unique-ness. To be celibate means to be a lively individual. It means I pulsate with vitality and generate an abiding attitude of personal and interpersonal reverence. The celibate in me is the great lover of life--re-creating life all around by my own wholehearted presence to life. Celibacy has a great lifting power. ToXbe celibate means not only to be at home with my cwn individuality and the individuality of the other, but to be creative even in unveiling the individuality of myself and the other. It means providing the truest con-ditions for unfolding life and immediately and ulti-mately manifesting the Lord Jesus. To be celibate has a lot to do with privacy and with being alone. Celibacy means I am able to be alone and to bring Out the individuality of the other who is alone. I feel my aloneness from my friend much more deeply than my aloneness from people less near, but if I really mean it when I say I respect the individuality of the other than I am able to "leave the other alone"--not to tamper or handle or seduce the other. My sense of alone-ness is an awesome sense of life and vibrancy, but in it I have moments of feeling my tendency to "prove" or "test" the closeness of the other to me. As soon as I do this--as soon as I try and touch and overhandle the intimacy of the other or overexpose my own intimacy --then I violate and betray my celibacy, and life disinte-grates- like a bubble. Being celibate and intimate with the other is more like two open hands cradling sand than clutching sand in my closed fist. Christ went about touching people--but what a difference in His touch and mine. Christ never touched anyone for His own sake-- to prove or test anything for Himself. He touched people only for the sake of their growth and life--for the sake of the Lord God. My sense of aloneness is a supreme moment of celibacy because it places me in an awesome experience of being born and coming to life. My celibacy is both a separation from "death" and communion with new life. As a life lover I also have a rather special experience of things. A great and wonderful multitude of things appear in my daily life: the things of technology--water that refreshes, clothes that adorn, vehicles that trans-port, gadgets that facilitate, books that illuminate; and all the wonderful things of nature--the enduring of a mountain, calm of a sunset, strength of water, grace of a flower, splendor of a leaf, gentleness of a meadow, free-dom of a bird. When things become more and more ap-pealing and plentiful and available the death lover in me looks and grabs and clutches. With some things I be-come overinvolved, infatuated, indiscriminate, cluttered. With other things I am cold, passive, uncaring, reckless. The life lover in me has a profound reverence for things and relates to them as a source of life and inspiration and celebration. The attitude of reverence and gratitude and joy for the gift of things is beautifully expressed and sustained by vowed poverty. My poverty is an alternative to death-by-possessiveness. Fundamentally poverty is reverence for things. To be poor in spirit VOLUME 4. 4. 4. $ist~,~ Ma~ Finn REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 is to be treed and serene and gra.ceful in the presence or absence of things. This experience of poverty redeems me from death, frees me trom domination by things, liberates me from enslavement to things. Poverty heals the break and rupture between myself and my posses-sions and restdres me and gives me a sense of wholeness and unity and harmony. The life lover in me has vision that penetrates and goes beyond the surface of things and enters into a communion with the inner meaning and life of things. Especially in a technological world this lively, delight-ful, restful relationship with things is not often found. It is fashionable to have and collect useful things, but not so fashionable to enter into the deepest meaning of things. To really commune with the heart of a. thing means I must take a kind of distance from its im-mediate usefulness. I can't rejoice when I look upon things too closely. Closeness in this sense suggests at-tachment and possessiveness. Possessiveness fills me with anxiety. Anxiety confines my spirit and ties me to the outer, superficial layer of the thing. When I stand back and am detached from the thing, then I become un-cluttered, unencumbered, and free to enter into the heart and mystery of the thing. It's when I come to the heart of the thing--to the center and the mystery of what the thing is--that I come to the moment of free and fruitful enjoyment. My poverty releases my spirit and my spirit breaks forth. I enter into and transform and bring to life whatever thing I touch. My poverty draws man toward great and abundant joy in things through detachment and reverence. Besides people and things reality is encountered in the form of events. The lover of life experiences events with a loose, playful, graceful spirit. We are confronted with all sorts of events---everyday. Events of nature: a storm, headache, double chin, expanding waisdine, gray hair. And we are confronted with the wonderful and fearful events of culture: change and growth and decay; and power and militancy and reactionary, traditional-ism; institutions and structures and systems. The death lover in me stands before events of change and growth, for example, with fear and suspicion--somewhat cold and calculating, overcautious and hesitant. When I move I move to control and enforce and restrain and master. For this I have need of power so I invoke "law and order." The death lover stands before events with a sense of fate and despondency. The life ldver is called to newer and greater and more profound life. by events of culture and nature. The profound reverence the life lover experiences for events is beautifully manifested by. vowed obedience and is a very precise alternative to death-by-power. Obedience means, fundamentally, .my reverence for events. Obedience means I am in communion with the deepest and most hidden and secret meaning of events-by listening. To obey means to quietly discover and listen to a secret. When I listen to reality I am born, raised up, and brought to life. Not drugs or inter-personal dynamics--but obedience--expands my con-sciousness, extends my horizons, uncovers my depths, brighten my vision, enables me to stand tall. When I listen to the mystery at the heart of a cultural or natural event I come into touch with myself at a new level, with the secret at the heart of the event itself, and ultimately and finally into touch and consciousness of the Lord Godmpresent and acting somewhere and somehow in the event. Each event then--when I am a lover of life--each event is a sacred event; a salvific event; redemptive. There is no event, no change or in-stitution or structure or sickness that is unholy. An event is not unholy. Unholiness is when I enter into an event in an unwhole or death centered manner. The obedient person is so much in love with life that she consecrates herself, vows to listen to the deepest voice of life all around her. She submits herself to the voice of reality in her culture and in nature in order to foster unity and reverence and serenity in the world. This listening experience of obedience is altogether different ~om the controlling experience. Listening is expecting.Controlling is handlingmtill there isn't any life left.' Neither of these attitudes toward reality comes in a pure form. In other words, the pure form of death lover or life lover is rare. The pure death .lover is insane. The pure life lover is a saint. Most of us average people are a blend. What matters is that I know and am aware and discerning of both movements within myself. Becauge of the profound need in our culture, and for the preservation and enrichment of the truest values of the society itself, and especially by the very real but simply unexplainable mystery of God calling me and touching my life in the way He does--I am one whose way is meant to be an alternative. I am consecrated to life in the midst of death, poverty in the midst of plenty, celibacy in the midst of pleasure, obedience in the midst of power. This is my call. It is a profoundly personal experience of the living God forever calling me to abundant life, forever faithful to me. I cannot ex-plain my call to another. I am able to describe some moments of it--but never explain it. It is mystery. I can only live it. The deepest moments of life are always born and unfold in mystery. But forever, somewhere in VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ RL~VIE'~ FOR RELIGIOUS 2O6 my heart, I know well I am called by One who is faith-ful. His call to me is enduring. I experience His fidcli:.y as well and as really as my own infidelity. I may repress my call, cover it up, run from it, hide--but forever it is my experience to be called to center my life prhnarily and consistently around the living God. In fai,h and quiet readiness and humble awareness I am able to do this. In a predominantly technological and function cen-tered culture my religious life, then, individually and institutionally, is a radical departure from the system and the establishment and superficial values and struc-tures. "Radical" means "deep within" not "way out." Religious life is truly radical. By centering life (in this machine and man centered world) primarily and con-sistently around the Lord I take a radical stand toward reality. A function centered culture has its special at-titude toward reality. It prizes and gives priority to pos-sessing things, pleasing people, controlling events. To live in the midst of things with an attitude of poverty, and in the midst of people with an attitude of celibacy, and in the midst of events with an attitude of listening says in a radical way to the members and institutions of my function centered culture that there is another way, that there is an alternative. The religious is the alternative. She offers love of life as an alternative to death centeredness and ultimate religious meanings as an alternative to superficial and' peripheral meanings, and releases the Spirit as an alter-native to fixation on the material: God centeredness as an alternative to the merely humanitarian. This life may actually appear a bit too radical, too threatening for a culture so permeated and centered around values of possessing things, pleasing people, and controlling situations, and consequently may draw a kind of ridicule. The culture may do to us what we find our-selves doing to whatever we can't cope with. We either don't see it or we ridicule it. When this happens it be-comes quite difficult for certain personalities to remain available and receptive to the mystery of poverty, celi-bacy, obedience. They want to "rename" the experience something else, or explain away the mystery of religious living, or so rationalize their life that they become un-able to remain faithful. I may be tempted to question my call and to shift m~t centeredness to what is super-ficial and peripheral. To go on living, however, and to become the gracious recipient of misunderstanding and ridicule bestowed by a function centered culture--to be chastened and purified and to endure the ambiguity of it all--this is the "price" as Kierkegaard says of "willing one thing." The One Thing---or the One the religious wills is Christ Jesus. I make my willingness explicit by my vowed reverence for reality, and this very reverence is a profound alternative to the death and violence that thread through a culture where values are primarily and consistently functional. Religious community is a beautiful means of fostering and sustaining, religious centered life and discovering and manifesting the most radical and religious mean-ings of life. Religious community is radically different £rom other kinds of community just as religious centered living is radically different from function centered living. Reli-gious community is "where" religious life and centered-ness are born and sustained and enriched. Religious community is where we provide a home for each other and room for each one to be a special individual, where we joyfully engage ourselves in Christ's life and call each other to life and urge each other to go through the Pass-over togethermthe ultimate experience of life. Religious community is where we transform the life and attitudes, where we "expand the consciousness" of each other, where we are purified and healed and transfigured, where we enable each other to live as uniquely and fully as possible. Religious community is where each of us is marvelously engaged in telling one another the good news, inspiring each other to uncover the living God dwelling in her own heart, calling one another to un-cover her religious heart by her own special presence, encouraging one another to be a special individual and to share with each one in a grand variety of ways one's own special religious experience. Being together in religious community is being together in Christ. Christ is the center of our religious life, so together we initiate, form, and sustain a Christ centered life. We speak to each other by our religious living together: "Keep in mind Jesus Christ." In religious community there are all sorts of room for tremendous diversity--diversity of personality, inclina-tions, cultures, races, expectations, ages. Wonderful unity is born out of this diversity. Religious community is a heartfelt experience of Christ initiating and accomplishing redemption in me. I need His touch of redemption in my doublemindedness and indecisive conformity to peripheral values. I am inclined to betray life, to shift from religious to less ul-timate and radical living. But in religious community my sisters urge me out of darkness and death and sus-tain me in light and life. This fills me with a sense of joy and enables me to speak my courageous "yes" to live life religiously, to unfold my attitudes of expectancy and enthusiasm for life, my roominess and fxiendliness, VOLUME 29, 1970 207 ÷ 4- ÷ REVIEW FOR REL;GIOUS 208 my pioneering and prophetic spirit. Religi6us commu-nity gives my spirit direction, inspires me to face God and my sister and fellow man as an individual of great peace and inner unity and decisiveness to life whole-heartedly. My sisters call me toward the Unknown. They name me "sister" and ask me to share with them--not just what is external, but the hidden treasures of my heart. I need their light to quicken my desires and their help to form my consciousness and their inspiration that I may be graced with the ability to leave life alone and not overhandle and extinguish the breath of any living spirit. Religious community is where I make a home for my sisters and communicate to them the radical and ulti-mate meaning of life and my own radical consecration and identity. Religious community is life centered but not the center of life. When the community is actually religious the Lord God is our one Center. Community is a means of initiating, forming, and sustaining our God centered life. The purpose of religious community is to speak "Father, . Son," "Spirit"--to say to each participant: "K, eep in mind Jesus Christ; keep in mind your life center." If the community "says" anythingelse it is not religious community. If the community claims to be religious but in reality says: "I am the center of life," it lies and cheats and creates confusion and becomes more dead than alive. Religious community is reaIly meant to say--very simplyPto all its members: "Pray"; "be holy"; "be alive to the call of God in Christ jesus." Members of our culture who feel the call to live more radically--artists and students and black people-- look all about them for alternatives. When they look toward the establishment they see power, greed, pleasure. What are the alternatives? Where are they? Or rather-- who are the alternatives? The celibate me is a radical alternative to a. passion centered and pleasure centered culture. The poor me is a radical alternative to a pos-session centered culture. The listening, obedient me. is a radical alternative to a power centered culture. I betray the brightest, most creative and sensitive and radical people of my culture when I betray my poverty and replace it with preoccupation and fascina-tion with budgeting, clothing, entertainment, traveling. I betray these same people when I replace my obedience and creative listening with a preoccupation and fascina-tion for management, control, manipulation, domina-tion. And I betray them when-I substitute my celibacy with preoccupation and fascination with personal corn- fort and appearance, with pleasure, popularity, and maneuvering to be "in." A second remark by way of conclusion concerns replacements for the living God. There are all sorts of replacements. We e~ich have our own preferred variety, our own little gods and golden calves and plastic idols. One of the golden calves is humanitarianism. In place of Christ at the center of my life I put myself and humanity. In place of consecration I put commitment; in place of prolonged contemplative prayer, endless drawn out dialogue and interpersonal relationships; the institution and mass identity in place of the individual's uniqueness; majority rule in place of self-determination. In place of self-surrender I put self-consciousness; in place of life, death; in place of spiritual reading, study ~ind learning and the daily paper; in place of liturgy, secular celebrations; in place of intuition, measurement; in place of asceticism, ease; in place of mystery, proof; in place of recollection and withdrawal, overinvolvement; in place of the unknown, the' known; in place of dis-cernment, public opinion; in place of faith, ration-alism; in p/ace of insight, behaviorism; in place of re-sponsibility, conformity; in place of internalizing and personal appropriation, objectification; in place of in-spiration, explanation; in place of decision, discussion; in place of celibate community, personality compatibility; in place of harmony, specialization; in place of spiri-tuality, sociology and psychology; in place of spiritual direction, group dynamics. My fascination with nature may even become a re-placement and substitute for the living God. The touch of nature, the beautiful and artistic may well dispose my heart for the Lord God--or may become a substi-tute. Theology may become a substitution or replacement for spirituality. They are quite unalike., as different as Karl Barth and Thomas Merton, as different as Tan-querey and Teresa of Avila. Another golden calf is the crowd--which becomes a major replacement or substitution for religious com-munity. The crowd is the great killer of life and prayer and wholeness; the great and gigantic intruder upon the ground of the Lord. Crowd is different from reli-gious community. Community which is religious ini-tiates, fosters, sustains religious centeredness. The crowd protects me from the most radical depths of meaning because it deprives me of that authentic aloneness and true individuality necessary to go very deep. Crowd squeezes the life out of me and becomes a divisive and shattering force against my consecration. It is especially the task of the religious in the culture ,,L~,~ ~09 to be radically set aside from the crowd, to become an alternative and to inspire the peaceful individuality of the others. The religious is the one who is able to be profoundly alone and profoundly related to others. She is able to stand, to live outside the crowd around her by uncovering the uniqueness of her own life and re-specting the life of the other. The celibate religious stands in the culture, in the midst of men, as the one so consecrated to life that she refuses to exchange her cen-teredness around the Lord for assimilation and death in the crowd. I betray my call and my religious community and the entire culture whenever I avoid or repress or replace commtinion with the Lord God with any other com-munion. Religious are meant to stir up loftiness and great spirit and dignity and grace so that those who look upon religious life, even for an instant, may straighten up, throw their shoulders back, and stand tall because they have found life abundantly. Religious are meant to say to the culture in which they live: "Receive the touch of the Lord and live. Do not be overtaken by death." ÷ ÷ ÷ ~.~ter Ma~ F~nn REYIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 EDOUARD POUSSET, s.J. Human Existence and the Three Vows The Gospel texts* contain a threefold call con-cerning the kingdom: chastity, poverty, and the humble service, of others in obedience to the Father. Every Christian must necessarily reach a point where he real-izes that he is personally involved in this call and that he must, within the limits of his own vocation, conform his life to it. When this call makes itself heard in a man's life it penetrates to the very heart of his existence and invites him to make what can only be described as a staggering conversion. Everything that counts for a human being is, in fact, directly involved: marriage and a family and the possessions which his work and his freedom of action obtain for him. Whoever hears this call is obliged to reorientate his life and it can happen that a man will go so far as to renounce, . through a death and resurrection which transform him, the essential values of his existence: ¯. there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can (Mt 19:12)¯ . sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come follow me (Lk 18:22). ¯. anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be slave to all (Mk 10:43--4). It was in this way that all forms of consecration to the Lord which include the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience were born in the Church. These three vows do not in any way consist in marginal practices and devotions. Chastity renews the heart out of love for God and creatures. Poverty establishes a new re-lationship between man and the riches of this world. ¯ This article was first published in French in Vie consacrde, vol-ume 41 (1989), pp. ~-94. The translation was made by William Russell, S.J.; St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. 4" Edouard Pomset, S.J., is professor philosophy at Lea Fontaines; ~O-Chan-tilly, France. VOLUME 2% 1970 4. 4. 4. Edouard Pou~set, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Obedience converts the desire for power and by so doing initiates man into true [reedom. The wows are man's very existence as it is lived out. in accordance with the death and resurrection o[ Christ.1 That is their greatness. But the renunciation which they entail has so direct, an effect" on the living sources and, the very structures of existence that today many are asking themselve.s if they do not doom those who pronounce them to live a life which is inhuman. And let us be honest about it, thi~ is a risk. What are these living sources, these fundamental structures of man's very existence? What does the gospel call to perfection entail? In what way are the vows a risk? How does someone live the vows? How can the risk involved be overcome by dying and being resur-rected jn Christ here and now in this world? Human Existence Man makes his appearance on the scene of life and advances in existence by a triple dynamism which un-folds in three essential activities. By means of these activities h~ develops a human s6ciety and thereby comes to understand what he is. First, there is the amorous desire which directs a human being towards his counterpart: man towards woman and woman towards man. It is this desire which is at the origin of the conjugal and familial society. Secondly, there is the power to transform and ap-propriate for oneself the natural universe which is the extension of one's body. By his work a man takes possession of this world and establishes' an economic society iri which the relationship between all the mem- XThis definition presents a difficulty, namely .that of being ap-plicable to every Christian life and not restricted to the religious life as such. Nonetheless, inasmuch as we are attempting to situate the religious life in its relationship to human existence in general and not to the life of Christians who are not religious this difficulty is of no consequence in this context. Those who would like a more precise treatment of this point may wish to consult Karl Rahner's article, "La thfiologie de la vie religieuse," in the collec[ive .work, Les religieux au]ourd'hui et deraain, Paris: Cerf, 1964, pp. 53-92. The fullness of Christianity--the perfection of love for God and man-can be attained without the vows. But religious life, because of the renunciation which it entails, "makes apparent in a very evi-dent manner and incarnates in an obje.ctive reality the faith in the supernatural grace of God which transcends this world." It is quite true that a Christian who marries, possesses his goods, and enjoys his independence can integrate the values of this world in a life of faith and thereby reach perfection. But because his existence (mar-riage, wealth, freedom) already has a value discernible by this world, independently of faith, "it does not make the transcendence of grace and faith evident in such an impressive way" (pp. 79 and 8~). And this is exactly what religious life accomplishes. bers strengthens the individuality of each one and each one's individuality strengthens the relationship which exists between the members. Thirdly, there is the desire to be independent, which is man's way of asserting his freedom when confronted by his counterpart, and his ability to conduct himself rationally. This desire is at the origin of the political society where interdependencies take shape which are the conditions of each one's freedom. Man is a being of nature, he is part of nature, but he is not, as is the animal, merely immersed in nature. He is consciousness, which implies that he can stand up to nature, look upon it as the object of his under-standing and his action, and so dominate it. A careful analysis of the relationship which man maintains with the world by sensible and intellectual knowledge would show that he is able to hold his own with everything that exists: the earth and sky and all they contain as well as what they cannot contain. The universe is his property, the object of his consciousness, and it is his vocation to make this universe---even though he is com-pletely exiled from it when he first appears in the world--his own. When he has emerged from nature, all of nature has at one and the same time been gathered together in him and remained entirely ex-terior to him. Both present to and absent from him, the universe is for him the object of a fundamental desire. And this sitiJation renews itself each time a human being is born. An infant is different from an animal in that the latter has particular, selective in-stincts, whereas the child reaches out for everything and puts it in his mouth. Everything is his. Because he is desire, the human being is desire to dominate and possess. But by coming in contact with others and experiencing the things of nature he is forced to adjust this desire both to the resistance he discovers in things and to the comparable desire he finds in others. The master finishes by finding his own master and .at times he even finds him,. in the servant he first sought to enslave. The oppositions and the struggles result in humanizing men by bringing them. little by little, to know themselves~ for what they are, to respect one another, and to get along with each .other. But because, he is desire, the human being, at the same time .as he is desire to dominate and to possess, is also the secret aspiration to find in another a subject simi-lar to himself who recognizes him without being forced 2 To I~ow onesell (se reconaRre): a precise phrase whose meaning is very strong. By mutual recognition each one sees and appreciates in the other what he is and even contributes to the creation of this value within him. 4. 4. the Vows VOLUME 2% 1WO 21~ + ÷ Edotmrd Pousset, S.]. REVIEW FOR REL|G[OUS ~14 to do so and who enables him to exist as subject as well. Without this aspiration no mutual and brotherly recognition would result from the play of forces and violence. It is this aspiration which, coupled more or less with the desire to dominate and to possess, sets man and woman in motion one towards the other: Man and woman are drawn by their very desire to seek in the other the subject, the 'T' which is able to affirm their own subjectivity, so that their harmonized reciprocity must converge in union . If man and woman succeed in giving themselves in a gift of mutual and equal assurance they can then embrace and merge in an act which establishes their unity? We have all known engaged couples and we know only too well to what extent the meeting between a young man and woman and the promise which they make one to another can transform them and develop in them potentialities which were hidden up to that time and cause them, as it were, to blossom. An un-questionable sign that they are, one for the other, be-coming more human. The relationship between a man and his wife results in the conjugal and familial society. By the union of the sexes the desire of the human being to possess nature and be recognized as a person by another person is fulfilled in a way that is partial and yet which takes the form of an intense communion. What con-stitutes the attraction of this relationship is not so much the pleasure, in the trivial sense of the term, but rather the intense communion with nature and with men. By his body each spouse recapitulates for the other all of nature, and this body is at the same time a free subject who gives himself to another subject whom he recognizes as being worthy of this gift. All the devia-tions and all the failures which can be blamed on the desire to dominate and to possess which is mixed in with the love drive do not erase the grandeur and the beauty of this mystery. Man and woman come to know one another and out of their union a child is born. By him they become father and mother. Paternity and maternity are not added on to their respective beings much like a particu-lar and accidental function; it is a re-creation of them-selves by themselves, and by their child. By this re-creation man and woman reach the fullness 6f their masculine and feminine beings, and no one who has seen a young mother bending over the crib of her little child or heard a father announcing the birth of his son could ever doubt this. All those who have 3 Gaston Fessard, "Le myst~re de la soci~tfi," Recherches de sciences religieuses, 1948, pp. 168-9, and again in L'actualitd historique, vol-ume I, Descl~e de Brouwer, 1960, p. 164. consecrated themselves to the Lord by the vow of chastity know these things, they think about them-- at times with nostalgia--and they would like to be no less man and woman, within their own vocation, than their married brothers and sisters. Nevertheless, we must not lose sight of the fact that the relationship between man and woman con-ceals an antinomy: that of love (the disinterested de-siring of good for the other and the hope of being recognized by him) and that of selfish desire to domi-nate and to possess for oneself. In marriage this antinomy is resolved but by a fragile balancing which is easily put into question. However successful family life may be it is the success of a particular group. Even harmonious--supposing they are so--family relation-ships retain the stamp and the limits o[ their origin: a biological generation which, of itself, produces only the particular bond of blood. But the human being requires a more universal society so as to become fully himself; this explains why the child once grown up leaves the family circle and enters a larger society, that of work, where he comes in contact with other men. This transition is brought about by a necessary movement: even before he experiences the narrow-ness of the family circle man must work to live and this work gives rise to relationships which are more universal than those of the family. To work is to confront and transform nature so as to take exclusive possession of it by adapting it so that it becomes one's own. Whether it be the first gathering together of things by the cave man or the building of a space capsule it is always man appropriat-ing nature, By his work he procures the goods which satisfy his needs (consumer goods) and which extend his individual body into the world (tools, equipment). This appropriation of the world by man is not only r~ecessary for his sustenance; the strengthening of his individuality depends on it as well. Even supposing that he has what he needs to satisfy his animal need to eat and drink, man, without his house and the objects with which he fills it, without the tools of his work, would scarcely be a man at all. He needs to possess these things so as to reinforce his existence in the world. Without them he is a poor creature indeed. Step by step he must possess the entire universe. The world, t~ansformed and organized by work and tech-niques, is man's body. To make the world and its riches one's own is a human act as spontaneous as it is necessary; it stems from a need, itself as undefined as the desire behind it. It is this need---the limitless ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ Edot~r. , d Pousset, REVIEW. ~FOR ,RELIGIOUS 21,.6 multiplicity of needs and their satisfaction--which gives birth to the economic society. By means of his work man extends his intelligence and his strength .into a produ.ct Which he fashions as he distances himself from nature. This produtt, the re-sult of his work, is at first exterior to him, but in a second time it must return to him in one way ,or an-other so that he might consume it and thereby satisfy his needs. This is the circuit which takes shape: work stemming from a need; the producing of an exterior object; the appropriation and satisfaction of a need by consumption. But as he works within this circuit man comes into contact with other men as well as with nature and these men, in turn, are also at work. Their meeting gives rise to an indefinite and indefi-nitely more complex development of this circuit: in-stead of consuming the product of his work directly he exchanges it for the product of another. Exchange is a factor of progress and by it, so long as one is also a producer, one can obtain things under the best of conditions and at the lowest costs. The more a society develops the more the rate of exchange is intensified within that society and the contrary is equally true. But the desire to dominate and possess which is at the very heart of man enters into this circuit of produc-tion and exchange and throws of[ the mechanisms thereby causing all sorts of disorders and frustrations to the detriment of one and all and even to entire classes of society. This desire is at the root of the social conflicts which periodically disrupt the life of a nation. No economic system has yet found the solution to the contradictions which arise within human activity. When a solution is introduced at a given point, as in the socialist system which deprives private property of the means of production, difficulties spring up at some other point. The economic sodety does not possess the means of resolving the problems it generates. In addition, the economic society' exists only Within another .sphere, the political society, which comes into being as a r~sult of the relationship of one man ~o another. Man, as he emerges 'from animal nature, comes in contact with another "man and a domination of one over the other is the consequence of their encounter. WithOut this dominatiori of a "master" who forces his "slave" to work, the elementary needs which the hu-man being feels would have led him only so far as to~ instinctively gather up things or to hunt and this would not have been enough to draw him out of his animal nature. If the young schoolboy was not~ obliged by his teacher .to make straight strokes beiween the lines of his notebook or to decifer the marks in his school book he would never do much more than scribble, he would never learn to read and write and he would not become intelligent. At the root of all human and humanizing activity there is a discipline, a law, either one which man's reason imposes upon himself once he has become reasonable or one imposed on him by an-other in those areas where his reason has not yet at-tained full competence or efficiency. When a man comes in contact with another, author-ity is made apparent, as is obedience. The one and the other are necessary for the development of ]reedgm which is, in the final analysis, the value with which the political society is chiefly concerned. Whether it is a question of a band of thieves or a group of disciples which a saint gathers about himself, the authority of the leader is asserted and accepted as a fact. It is then legitimized by the feel and concern for the common good of the group which is evident in the person of the leader. This will be the very basis of the obedience of the members of the group. The dialogue between leader and subordinates stems from this mo'tivation" of the common good, and it is this dialogue which defines the obligations and rights of each one. Thus the flee dom of each member keeps pace with political society as it develops, whether it be a gang, a clan, a nation, or an empire. It is in political society that the desire of each one to be free and responsible for his conduc( takes shape. This determination, as in the case of the love drive and the act of making the world one's own, comes from the very depths of man, from what I have referred to above as desire. It is inalienable and s6 powerful that it is capable of setting in motion entire peoples fighting for their independence, for. and against anything and everything. It is good in itself but it can deteriorate both in an individual and in societies into a desire for power and a sense of pride which affect political relationships more or less seriously and at times provoke the most violent of conflicts be-tween individuals or peoples. Such, summarily analysed, is this third sphere of human experience, that of the relationship of man to man as he is taken as a human being independent of the man-woman distinction. It is the political society which attempts to integrate with-out destroying and to unify without confusing the two preceding spheres: the family and the economic so- .ciety. Amorous desire, the power to appropriate the uni-verse for oneself, the determination to be independent, free, and responsible are three "drives" which can giv, e birth to three passions or sins: the inordinate desire of the flesh; the thirst for riches and for self; the desire. t ././././~. l,'otus VOLUME 29,~1970~. ~ '" . Edouagd Pousset, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS for power and pride of spirit. The gospel call is not only addressed to these three capital sins, however, but reaches us at the very heart of our existence, inviting us to live according to the paradox of death and resurrection and thereby to go beyond ourselves towards the Love which is the life of the Holy Trinity. The Gospel Call The gospel call to chastity is one addressed to all. Some live chastity by remaining single while others-- by far the greater number--live it within the ~amework of a monogamous and indissoluble marriage. On this point Christ. preaches more by His silence and His own example than by what He has to say. Yet He also speaks of it in these terms: . 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). These words were first addressed to a man who had heard Jesus, the messenger of the good news, and who in turn desired to be God's herald. He had to be ready to leave everything at a moment's notice for the sake of the kingdom. "Because of my name" Matthew writes. This phrase from Luke quoted above sums up what is essential: to follow Jesus for the sake of the kingdom which, for some at least, includes the two conditions of detachment and freedom of action. In another pas-sage of St. Luke we find a similar warning but in this instance it is worded in the form of a far more general requirement: "If. anyone comes to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:26). And our Lord adds: "Everyone who divorces his wife and marries another is guilty of adultery and the man who marries a woman divorced by her husband commits adultery" (Lk 16:18). Finally, at the conclusion of his teaching on the prohibition of divorce which so puzzled his disciples, Our Lord sets the price even higher when he speaks of "eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who canV' (Mt 19:12). Some have supposed, perhaps rightly so, that Jesus was referring to examples familiar to His listeners, John the Baptist for instance. They ask themselves if, in this comparison, He was thinking of perpetual con-tinence. Are we reading into these texts if we find in ¯ In parallel texts neither Matthew nor Mark make mention of the wife. them what Christ taught about the freedom r.equ, i~ed,, for following Him? Or does this interpretation take the edge off the point of our Lord's statement? J.-P. A,udet, who is not one to exaggerate the meaning of texts, asks himself these very questions and finds it ,preferable "to consider that Jesus was effectively thinking of the free choice of perpetual continence." 5 In the light of the example of our Lord tradition has interpreted this declaration as a. call to religigus chas-tity kept for the sake of the kingdom. Though the call to poverty recurs in numerous tex~ts, it appears at times to be addressed to very few: "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 reel (Mt 19:21). And yet this call is re-echoed in a warning against riches which is addressed to all: "How hard it is for those who have riches to make their Way into the king-dom of Godl" (Lk 18:24). In their primitive context these calls and warnings are to be understood as con-ditions for greater freedom necessary for one who car-ries the good news to others. They do not imply the condemnation of riches, even if they do underline the possible obstacle riches can be for those who hope for the kingdom. These calls become, in other passages, very general requirements which have to do with every disciple: Sell your possessions and give alms. Get yourselves purses that do not wear out, treasure that will not fail you, in heaven where no thief can reach it and no moth destroy it. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Lk 12:33-4). One must be careful not to hoard: "Watch and be on your guard against avarice of any kind, for a man's life is not made secure by what he owns." (Lk 12:15). Free with regard to the goods of this world the disciple abandons himself to providence: "But you, you must not set your hearts on things to eat and things to drink . Your Father well knows you need them" (Lk 12:29-30). Poverty is not sought out for itself; it is desired for that confident abandonment which prepares us for the intimacy of the kingdom. By poverty man becomes like unto God, a child o[ the king-dom; he follows the lead of the Son who is supremely poor (and thereby rich) in His relationship to His. Father. Because of one's poverty which makes~ him a child of the kingdom the hundredfold is repaid him here and now. As regards obedience, which is not the object of a for- ~ J.-P. Audet, Mariage et cdlibat dans le service pastoral de l'Eglise, Paris: Orante, 1967, p. 58. . ¯ . 4. 4. 4. Existence the Vows VOLUME 29,,1970 . 219 mal call in the gospels, it is, as seen in the Son of Man, the very heart of His mystery: "My aim is to do not my own will, but the will of him who sent me" (Jn 5:30). But the will of the one who sent Him was that the Son give His life for many: "For the Son of Man himself did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Mk 10:45). He calls to a service which He Himself has fulfilled in obedience to the Father: to become the slave of all as He did whose "state was divine, yet., he emptied himself to assume the conditions of a slave., even to accepting death, death on a cross" (Ph 2:6-8): 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, anyone who wants to be-come great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be slave to al'. (Mk 10:42-4). This is how a man enters into life: "I have come so that they may have life, and have it to the fulF' (Jn 10:10). By religious profession this threefold call becomes the institutional norm of those who are called to this vocation.6 But confronted with what man is ac-cording to the dynamism of his nature, namely desire, the power to dominate and to possess the earth, and the determination to be independent, this gospel call institutionalized by the vows raises a problem felt very keenly in our times. Is it human to renounce the carnal expression of love, to renounce all goods, and to submit one's will to the power of another? Does the renunciation called for by the Gospels succeed in opening man up or does it accomplish just the opposite by imposing frustrations, on him? The Risk Involved in the Vows If the renunciation spoken of in the Gospels leads to a resurrection in this world it will be seen that it e Even if life in a religious institute is not the vocation of all, the renunciation called for in the Gospels does concern everyone in that all are called to perfection, to the kingdom of God, and to love, Man and wife, as they enter into a fruitful union and thereby collaborate by marriage in the creative work of God have to make their way as Christians towards the resurrection. They must be attentive to the grace which will perhaps predispose them and permit them to un-fold by choice, here and now, into the life of the Kingdom "where men and women do not marry" (Mk 12:25). Even those whose voca-tion is to make the earth bear fruit and to organize existence in this world are invited to become poor with Christ who was poor. Finally, in accordance with the diversity of states of life all Christians have to share the mystery of the Son who "'emptied himself., even to accepting death" (Ph 2:7-8) by living in such a manner as to make it apparent to all that they are disciples of the Master who "did not come to be served but to serve" (Mk 10:45). re-creates man and that it will not work against him except insofar as it enables him to be fulfilled over and above what he might have otherwise attained. But does this renunciation spoken of in the Gospels actually lead to a resurrection here in this world? Isn't it, for many who have embraced it, merely putting up with a num-ber of frustrations? Isn't it rather a question of slipping into and getting bogged down in mediocrity? Faced with this question one can first point out that the human being becomes human only to the extent that he exercises a certain interior asceticism over his spontaneous drives and converts their instinctive vio- ¯ lence into reasonable behavior. Without this the love drive, the power to make the universe one's own, and the desire to be independent are neither human nor hu-manizing. Yet it is quite true that the renunciation of the Gospels goes beyond this interior asceticism. Not only does it discipline nature, in a sense it contradicts it: to die so as to be reborn, yes, but to die, and in a very radical sense. If this is lived out in an awkward fashion it can give rise to harmful repressions and frustrations. This is the risk involved in the vows; this is why they are sometimes said to be "inhuman." But this does not tell the whole story behind the vows and the renunciation requested in the Gospels. If such were the case we would be left with the as-surance that they are both bad and harmful. Nor is this, generally speaking, the initial experience of those who embrace the religious life.7 But it is one aspect of the truth; it is a moments in Christian growth and development as the experience of religious life shows us when the daily ordinariness is felt over a period of 7 Most young people who respond to a call to a religious or priestly vocation experience their consecration as a fulfillment rather than as a profound contradiction or frustration of their being. Generally speaking di~culties arise later on in their religious life. s,,Moment,, implies a "stage" or "point" within a development. What is characteristic of a "moment" is that it contains all the re-ality which a development will eventually produce but without as yet making it apparent in an adequate way. Reality at this stage is seen under one or several of its aspects but not as yet in its totality. Therefore at a given moment when the renunciation spoken of in the Gospels and the vows themselves are felt to be "inhuman" we have an example of a partial truth overshadowing a more complete one: that the vows do not contradict man's fundamental dynamism except insofar as they enable him to outdistance this very dynamism and so fulfill him in a higher order of reality. To the extent that the religious will enter into this higher order of reality the more clearly will he recognize that the vows, far from being inhuman, are actually eminently humanizing. In certain periods of crisis or de-pression this more total truth can be entirely obscured. At such a time the partial but very real aspect of the truth--that the vows contradict human nature and can in a sense be said to be "inhuman" --is sometimes felt very acutely. the Vows VOLUME 29, 1970 221 Edouar d : Pousse t, REVIEW. F.O.R RELIGIOUS 222 -:years, when one finds it difficult to accept events, situa- ~tions, others, and even oneself, when disappointments .and deceptions begin to weigh on us. But this reality is. no scandal. For. those 'who have experienced the ups and. downs of their religious existence it is, in a sense, liberating. One can actually profit from such an ~experience by carefully evaluating it and seeing it as it ~eally is: limited, partial, and always there in the background. . This "inhuman" side o[ renunciation and the vows is especially noticeable when one confronts the celibate religious with the essential dynamism which draws man and woman one to the other and which finds its ¯ growth in the unity of a fruitful love. In the marriage .state ,perfectly happy lives are, without doubt, less numerous than those would have us imagine who are :sooyery alert to the failures or half-failures of religious life and who place, the cause of these " failures squarely on celibacy. It is nonetheless true that when we ~consider the physiological and psychic make-up of man .and woman, human love and its carnal expression .oppear as both the means and the goal of their ful-fillment ¯ here on earth. Human beings develop through :relationships;. and the richest, the most fruitful, the most humanizing of relationships seems to be that of a .man and woman united in a love which generates free-dom and responsibility. In marriage even those who are not destined to enjoy "the tomorrows that sing" experi-enc_ e,, at least in the beginnings, the joy of loving and ~being loved, the unfolding of an immense hope and .fll. e certitude of having found it. When their sexual attraction, diffused up to that time, is centered on a chosen being, man and woman, by the exercise of their freedom, reach maturity and enter concretely into a di~alogue which creates an even greater freedom. Their love~ in its carnal expression, because it is pledged ac- .cording to the concrete conditions of this freedom where each one is, for the other, a permanent appeal for a gratuitous love, must of necessity rule out whatever is ambiguous and whatever causes the possessive and domi-nating instinct to weigh heavily upon it. This may or may: not be the case; love can renew itself each day or it can slip into the trite and the ordinary; freedom can either grow or, on the contrary, become an alienato i~i~': force. The precise conditions of this creation and gr.o.wth 'are, however, given' to us: a man and a woman who choose one another accept whatever a life lived t6gether .entails, the grandeur as well as the risks of a frutiful union. /OppOsed to this is the notion that one who remains celibate or who chooses celibacy deprives himself of the very means of reaching maturity. He will, in any case, probably be longer in reaching that maturity. And doesn't the universal availability of the celibate conse-crated to God, an availability which does not link him to any one person in particular, mask an escape? Doesn't it place him outside the real conditions of af-fective life?° Finally, doesn't the ,sexual drive, contra-dicted in celibacy, run the risk of being kept under control by being repressed inasmuch as it does not find, it would seem, an expression which channels it, disciplines it, and makes it fruitful in directing it to the service of a creative love? These questions are by no means merely theoretical. Religious poverty gives rise to problems which are probably not so delicate as those raised by chastity. Poverty has to do with things and reaches the human being less directly. What would create a problem today is not so much religious poverty as the lack of it. We question ourselves more about the way of living poverty than about the means of remedying eventual inconveniences. Among possible inconveniences we should perhaps mention infantilism or the failure to fully realize what is involved in money matters or at least a superficial attitude which produces and sustains ir-responsibility in matters of purchasing and budgeting. He who has vowed poverty expects and in fact receives everything from his community without for the most part having to experience the price of things directly. These are serious lacunae. They indicate that we have neglected to face up to this objective and fundamental problem: that of work and remuneration or, to put it another way, that of the exchange of specified services. A child can expect everything from his parents; but an adult, if he is to avoid falling into infantilism, cannot expect unlimited services without asking himself the question of reciprocity and remuneration, the question of ,paying back. Money, in this sense, is not seen in a sinister light. It is a precise and very respectable in-strument of adult behavior. A poverty which would keep the religious on the outside of financial problems would be quite vain and perhaps even ambiguous, especially if it were based on a contempt for money. Poverty at times gives rise to another inconvenience. It consists in asking one's superior or his or her delegate ~A psychoanalyst asks this question: "How can we speak about the affectivity of someone who has put himself in a position where he will not be affected by anything or anybody?" Even though his question does not correspond exactly to the reality of the situation it does serve to focus our attention on still another aspect, that of the celibate consecrated to God who is not dependent upon a loved one--husband or wife--who might eventually betray him. .4, E~istence and the Vows Edouard pou'sset, . Sd. REVIEW ~FOR REI.IGIO~J~ :224 .fbr; everything and a bond of dependence is thereby created: poverty of dependence. If this dependence is strict and experienced down to every detail and for things insignificant in themselves it can result in a minuteness and a niggardliness entirely opposed to gpiritual freedom. To be able to pay for what one finds pleasing or what answers .a need favors a certain autonomy of the person which is in line with the human order of things. Close dependence on this point with regards to another can conceal a repressed and petty enviousness completely lacking in dignity.1° As regards the vow of obedience it too, as in the case of chastity, reaches the person at the heart of his human 'existence. Some, dreaming of a fraternal society with-out a "father," do not understand that a human being cannot become himself and assert himself without a relationship of authority. Such people look upon the vow of obedience as one of the most inhuman of aber-rations. But even when One admits the necessity of authority and of interior asceticism for converting instinctive drives, the vow of obedience, inasmuch as it pushea this asceticism to the very renunciation of one's own will, will seem to go too far and fall,, by excess, into something inhuman. Such a person will be unable to see that the sacrifice of one's will makes us die so ag 'to be reborn to the will of God, to the will to at-tain the kingdom of love where each one is truly him-self, above and beyond that which he might want very much. But if the secret of this death and resurrection is not clearly seen it is because it is something difficult to live. Because of their deficiencies religious are fre-quently the cause of the objections formulated against 'their way of life. It is so difficult to live freely accord-in~ g to the spirit of the kingdom of God in complete renunciation of one's own willl It is so very difficult to 'die to self so as to be rebornl Quite a few of those whb have made the vow adopt a middle-of-the-road solution~ which lacks both human and religious truth-fulness. Some, in fact, take their obedience lightly and .SO put themselves in a false situation. Others enter ¯ materially into the behavior required by obedience or tolerate a type of guardianship and even at times con-. form themselves to the will of superiors but without being able to renounce in depth their own will and judgment. This is not what is meant by dying so as to rise again. Rather ~hey live in a state of subjection which only frustrates them. It happens that the per-sonality is more or less stifled--only a moulage is left-- 1°This is perhaps more evident in communities of religious women. ~nd if at times iio bitt~tlless is felt ~of6 often thatt not the religious harbors secret resentments. Are the vows for or against mah? On the factual level the reply to this question is not all that evident. And this very situation favors the opinion of those who consider it hazardous or prejudicial to go against the fundamental dynamisms of human existence so completely. Living the Vows As impressive as the obj.ections are which one can raise against the vows, the strength and clarity of the gospel' call do not allow us to put into question the consecration to God by chastity, poverty, and obedience. In addition, the experience of those who are living the vows does not in any way lead them to think-- except perhaps in a moment of crisis or prolonged de-pression- that they are on a dead-end street even if in terms of human or spiritual success they still have much ground to cover. They see only too well the difficulties and even the risks involved in the religious life but they do not experience them as dangers ~rom which there is no escape or as barriers thrown up along their path. Many, by far the majority, are convinced that they were not deceived by the youthful eagerness of their early years in religion and the spontaneous joy of their first gift to God. But let us consider those religious men and women who have not yet attained the heights of perfection and who have not yet penetrated into the mystery of the death and resurrection of Christ. These religious know and feel that their vows have made them men and women with hearts full of love and wills that are free. They are frank and honest in their way of thinking as they go about converting all the relation-ships which constitute their human existence in society. What type of life do they lead? In our communities many attain a fundamental ad-hesion to the will of God, one which frees them from whatever tends to imprison their human intelligence and will. They owe this freedom to their obedience. In their superior they find a presence which helps them to see clearly. On their part they reflect and explain their reasons to him and his agreement confirms them in truth. If it is "no"--and they are ready to hear and accept this "no" without bitterness---they see themselves as being caught up in the search for a truth which is, for the time being, still beyond them, one free of self, of self-affirmation, self-seeking, self-interest. They know that they are no better than anyone else; to some degree their desire for power is still a factor to be reckoned ÷ ÷ ÷ Ethx~i sote Vnocwe s~and .'. " VOLUME 29, 1970. :.:., Edot~rd Pmuwt, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS with and their zeal, as generous as it is, still runs the risk of being warped by an instinct to possess and to take pleasure in things for themselves. This instinct is, in their eyes, a devouring weed even if it does not spread into everything they do. They do not dramatize their situation though they know that the most contra-dictory conceptions of the world and the most ruinous enterprises take root in this very desire for power and in this appetite for enjoyment. By allowing themselves to be converted by obedience they further the canse of peace and unity among men before God. For them to obey is to enter into the action of the all.powerful Master who renounced His power to the point of be-coming a slave and once a slave He did not attach Him-self to existence, as is ordinary in the case of a servile being, but rather accepted death through obedi-ence. This two-fold action is reciprocal as well: the God who becomes human uproots all desire for power of the "master" in us who wants to impose himself, and the man who is God frees the slave (ourselves) from his subservient attachment to life and enjoy-ment. Whether it is a question of moderating their tendency to dominate a discussion and so fall in line with the superior's will or not treating themselves to a cool drink on a hot day these religious are allowing them-selves to be transformed by this double and reciprocal action of God made man which is, in act, the salvation of the world. This is hard and mortifying on certain days, though their sacrifices are not without their hu-morous side, and as they are thereby reborn they are also called to die a little. Christ said that "my food is to do the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 4:34). It is a joy which nourishes us with the feeling that we are participating in a day to day way in the very mystery of the Son of God and in His lifel At times we protest against this obedience of judg-ment and yet it is this very obedience which com-pletely converts the relationship of force and inequality which, in all authority, exists between the leader and his companions. By this obedience they share the joy of serving the same Lord together, in a friendship which draws them close to each other and makes them equal. But as long as the judgments of the superior and his brother religious have not become as one--the su-perior accepting an attentive exchange with the religious and the latter in turn making known his reasons only so that he might better enter into a plan which may not, at the outset, be his own--a relationship of domination and submission persists. The decision reached under these conditions will be one in which the religious who obeys will be changed by the will of the ~superior. but his own judgment will remain outside their re: lationship. If, on the contrary, he is able to share the. judgment of his superior, all trace of submission ,dis-appears, leaving place for the communion of the two in truth as they both see it: a communion in joy and friendship. Obedience does not always lead to this, friendship and joy which are the ultimate truth of all authority, but there are those who experience it in their communities or in their .small apostolic groups. Others are still looking for .and hoping to attain this "friendship which draws close . " It is quite, true that those in authority who are narrow and .who do. not. possess all the necessary qualities continue to create. situations which we would hope never to see agkin in, religious life; but the sufferings of those who put up with these situations in no way cancel out this joy and hope for even there where no solution is apparent the mystery of the Master become a slave who ac-~ cepted death carries on its work of life. To die so as to be reborn: that is the mystery of. obedience. It is also the mystery of poverty. The poverty of the Gospels is a prophetic call inasmuch as it is set down as an absolute requirement for .entrance into the kingdom of God. The statements concerning it are uncompromising, categoric; they, too, are but a part of an incarnation which liberates. At first glance this call does not appear to take into consideration. the building up of this world by man who must con-tinue the work of creation. Immediate, material poverty, the literal conformity to the call of the Gospels: "Go and sell what you own and give the money to the poor., then come, follow me" (Mt 19:21) will quickly knock the supports out from under those who hold to some archaic fantasy or to a form of parasitism in this regard. When he vows poverty man does not thereby escape from the conditions of a creature who has needs. If he did he would become the parasite of those who possess because they work in lucrative enterprises. Perhaps he, too, would work, but in a gratuitous way by devoting himself to an activity which would not assure the satisfaction of his vital needs. Even if the work he is doing is being done out of his concern for the kingdom of God, the. fact remains that he would not be earning his livelihood; he would have to have some-one richer near at hand so as to be able. to live in his poverty. There are those among us today who have eXperi-enced the scandal of rich religious institutes or at least of institutes whose poverty is not meaningful for our times. These religious have heard the call of the Gospels 4, Existence'. Und ,.~ VOLUME !29,, 1970 :,.;~ ' 227 REVIEW POR RELIGIOUS aga~ln but they want neither fantasy nor parasitism. They feel that there is a disinterestedness with regards to the problem of money which can be a misunder-standing of precise human obligations. They have con-formed to "Go and sell what you own" but they are also clearly aware of the content of ". then come, follow me." For them to follow Jesus in poverty is to set out on a road of patience along which one takes into consideration the conditions to which he is sub-jected by his nature as a being who has needs. If they are to follow Jesus they must first submit with dis-cernment to the economic laws of their own historical context, .a context which can and does change. By their personal renunciation--"go and sell what you own"--they are in a way prophets as was the Messiah who had no place to lay His head. By humbly accepting to bear with the machinery of an economic system they are being faithful to Jesus who lived among men. And if this system should oblige them, if not to be owners at least to enjoy social rights and to receive benefits due them because of these rights, they accept--not re-luctantly, as if it were a crack in their wall of poverty, but willingly, recognizing in this the concrete form of their condition as men. Inserted in social structures which do not allow them to be, to the letter, "the beggars of Jesus Christ"--and, in point of fact, the parasites of others--they live poverty according to their own times by submitting to a precise system of economic exchanges where rights and benefits have as their coun-terpart services to be rendered and services actually rendered, all carefully defined. And yet they still feel free to serve over and above what is required of them, gratuitously, without counting the cost. Gratuitouslyl And it is at this point that they feel they are in a way prophets of their times because eco-nomic activity and its apparent and unrelenting law of "nothing for nothing" needs gratuitousness: The practice of gratuitousness is an everyday happening. In order to extend industrial production it is essential that dis-interested activities create a flow of applicable inventions and innovations and that the market be surrounded by a network of hopes and expectations (Father Perroux). Poverty is not a technique for resolving the contra-dictions of the economic society so as to assure its good functioning. Nevertheless, the poor religious does not feel himself to be unimportant in this society. His poverty, which contradicts the spirit of profit-at-all-cost and outdistances the rigidity of "nothing for noth-ing" is, in fact, in step with the society in which he is moving. Finally, the religious discovers that it is society which allows him to have access to the kingdom of God and in addition enables him to make the world his own. Because he does not possess things as does someone who owns an original oil painting by a famous artist and valued at a considerable amount of money his poverty frees him to see, hear, touch, taste, feel, in a word "make his own" the universe of things and beings just as a free and cultured man makes his own the work of art he goes to contemplate as connoisseur in a museum where it is for everyone. Poverty creates a new rela-tionship with things. The detachment it entails creates an availability for disposing of the world according to what it is, according to its beauty rather than its mere immediate utility. In this way the poor man pos-sesses the earthl Obedience and poverty liberate man but it is chastity which allows him to taste supreme freedom. Whoever has converted desire within himself loves God for God. This love satisfies within him the need which every creature feels because of the very way he is consti-tuted, but from this moment on what was carnal desire is now ardent adoration. He loves others as he loves God and this is why his choice can be shared among many without being, divided. The vow of chastity is the vow of friendship and love. There are many men and women among us who are not yet Francis of Assisis or St. Clares who know this to be true. They have known the joy of their initial eagerness and of their first gift. There was someone sleeping deep within them whom the Lord awoke. Springtime of lovel Then they entered religious life and discovered the weight of institutions and the ordinariness of daily life. It was no longer spring, but the love they had for Jesus Christ, rehewed each day, strengthened the delicate fragility of their youth. They grew strong and re-mained young. For them--for each one of us--the first step on the road of love was the break with the world. The love of God does not admit of a sharing and so they began by giving up many things. Some will perhaps speak of frustrated affections and sexual difficulties which can re-sult but these are but mishaps along the road. Men and women anxious to give themselves entirely to God do not look upon them as irremediable. To give up a human love for the Lord implies that one accepts to be momentarily "off balance" but this is part of human nature. They accepted this; this was their first authentic gift of faith. A second step followed this which was the Lord's doing. They were chiefly responsible for the first step ÷ ÷ + VOLUME 2% 1970 229 ÷ ÷ Ed6uard Pousset, " $.1. REVIEW!FOR.RELIGIOUS when they answered His call and actively committed themselves. In this second step it was the Lord who worked ~leep within them and detached them so as to attach them to Himself. They may have met others and discovered human love along the way. This is their secret. At. the point they had reached there was a great danger that the seduction of this human love might win out over their attachment to the Lord which was not yet fully rooted in their being. They alone can appreciate the sacrifice they had to make but one thing is certain: they grew because of it. At this same stage in their ,lives they also knew what fraternal life could offer: emulation in things spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic built strong friendships among them. which the passing years have not wiped away. They still have much to discover, much progress remains to be made, btit these friendships have enabled them to understand that there are not two loves, the love of God and the love of creatures, but only one. No one who has heard a simple word spoken by a friend which opened his heart and brought him in contact with God's love will ever be able to doubt again that this is so. There are not two loves. Love and freedom--that is the resurrection whose price is the renunciation spoken of in the Gospels and as it is practiced by the vows. But many reading these lines will ask themselves: where do I figure in this? Am I the one just described? Yes, you are there along with the others, but in religious life as in life in general there are stages and they are lived one after the other once one has a strong hold on what is essential. It is difficult, certainly, inasmuch as today community life which is the fruit of what is essential as well as the means of living it is something we are still attempt-ing to pin down. But the fact that we are still seeking cannot leave us in doubt as to the essential: to die and to be resurrected. The following experience invites us in a very simple way to self-forgetfulness: Community life is so "up-in-the-air" at this time that one doesn't really know what to say about it. From my own experi-ence I feel that the real benefit of living a vowed life in com-munity has been a difficult but rewarding school of self-forget-fulness. ,When this seed is planted and when it finds the soil healthy and productive (that is, a living, fraternal community) the vows enable us to develop and unfold with no danger of repression. Don't many of the problems we face today stem from the fact that we forget' the essential "virtues" common to any life in society, to any life lived in common? We neglect them because other things said to be more important have been given priority: dialogue, responsibility, "adult" religious life. . And so we set.aside the small favor done with a smile, the concern of making conversation at table interesting for the one next to us, in a word, a good disposition, and an ease, nothing more, which we all need. I may be tklking too down-to-earth here but it does seem to me that we can fool ourselves so easily. The vows are like a delicate flower which will not give forth it.s full bloom unless the sap runs into the stem and the stem is rooted in good soil. From the very first step we take in religious life until such time as we reach the summits it is always a ques-tion of this unique mystery: to die and to be resurrected. But the more we advance the more the question be-comes more precise and insistent: how do we die and how are we resurrected? I will attempt to tie to-gether the ends of everything said so far so as to focus on this one question. What I have to say doubtlessly presulSposes that a certain amount of ground has been covered. Nevertheless the question and the reply can be understood by each one according to the point he has reached. In the spiritual life there isn't a time for "more practical virtues" and a time for "more radical experiences"; those making their way through the former need, at times, the enlightenment provided by the latter--even if they are not exactly their own experi-ences-- and the latter still need the former as well. To Die and to Be Resurrected Religious life, as in the case of marriage though in a different way, enables us to discover litde by little that we must die. Chastity is mortifying as are poverty and obedience. When with the experience gained over the years the religious comes to feel to what extent his state in life dooms him to die the real danger, the only one for him, is not to know how to die or not to be able to die sufficiently. The resurrection comes only through death and no one is resurrected until and un-less he dies. Even though the religious committed him-self freely to this way of renunciation the death he must undergo does not depend on his good will. This impossibility for a man of good will to die to himself in Jesus Christ is at one and the same rime the problem and the key to that problem. It is the problem in that the price of the resurrection is death and if this death is impossible for him he is not resur-rected and his vows place him in the dangers men-cloned above. It is also the key to the problem in that the impossibility experienced in dying to self, namely to change and convert oneself so as to live the perfec-tion of the gospel message, is the basic condition for decisive progress along the road which leads to death and resurrection in Jesus Christ. Christ said this very clearly to His Disciples who, disturbed and confused by His teaching on poverty, asked Him: "In that case. who can be saved?" And he replied: "For men it is + + + fMaence and th~ Edouard Pousset, REVIEW FO, R.R~L~GIOUS impossible., but not for God, because everything is possible to God" (Mk 10:27). The question, then, is not to know if the vows are practicable or not. In all their strictness they are not. Nor is it whether there might not be a risk of "dehumanizing" man. The vows do, in fact, 'admit of this risk. The only question is to know if once one has reached the realization that he is unable .to live the perfection of the gospel message the Christian consecrated to God by vows is going to allow himself to be taken by his Lord, to die in Him so as to be resurrected with Him. Or better still, the question is to know how this can be accomplished. First of all, to reach this realization that "for men it is impossible" indicates that one has follov~ed Ghrist for a long time and sought to imitate Him with all the zeal and generosity which said "yes" without reserva-tion to His call. It is here that the importance of a certain inner asceticism is evident even if this asceticism is not, in itself, decisive. Many do not enter seriously ¯ into the paths of union with the God who is responsi-ble for their death and resurrection because they have not been energetic enough with themselves. This asceticism will mortify the desire to dominate and to possess which troubles the living sources of our nature. But there is more to it than this. Because of the religious state itself, these living sources are contradicted by the very fact that the vows impose a renunciation on vital poir~ts. But by itself this asceticism will not result in ~forgetfulness of self or humility; by itself thi~ renuncia-tion .will, not assure us of a peaceful balance nor will .it bring about the joy of being resurrected with Christ in this world. What the religious seeks actively by asceticism and renunciation can only be received as a gratuitozts gift. For of themselves neither asceticism nor renunciation through the practice of the vows make us die sufficiently. What we can learn from them and .what is their most authentic contribution is the ad- .mission that the perfection of the gospel message is im-possible. But before this precious fruit of the spiritual life has .matured by long experience the religious is exposed to certain serious errors along the road on which he so generously set out. If he remains negligent, not meas-uring sufficiently the importance of asceticism and what his vows require or, more correctly, what the Lord requires of him, it is evident that he will never die to self. Nor will he do so if he goes ahead courageously along a road of voluntary self-denial. At least it will .not be because of his courage. In the first instance he runs the risk of practising an abnegation which is on a merely human level and in addition there is the danger of falling into a voluntariness which is always in-operative when it is a question of killing our own will, our ego, that desire so essential to us of loving and be-ing loved,ix An abnegation which stems too unilaterally from man's good will and courage runs the risk of end-ing up in a violent forcing of the will by a suppression of desire. In addition to all these reasons find to many others weakness or, on the contrary, poorly guided energy can slip quickly into all the complications which accompany a mishandled psyche: The years pass and it happens that a kind of spiritual heaviness settles in and the beginnings which were so full of promise empty out in insignificance. Little by little the feeling of a half-failure or an incurable mediocrity spread through one who so generously gave himself to God. Then he reaches the critical hour of possible discouragement or of "wisdom" which, from then on, will keep him on a "good middle course." Most fatal of temptationsl But it can also be the hour of setting out anew, the hour of a "second conversion," for it is then that he fully realizes from personal experience that he is unable to convert himself, he is unable to die so as to be resurrected. This, then, is the hour of gracel The need to die remains but now we understand that the only way we can die is by God's hand. We must die on the cross and it is .Jesus Christ who carries the cross and who dies upon it. It is in Him and by the same death that we must die. Strictly speaking this is not the result of asceticism or voluntary abnegation. When it is a ques-tion of asceticism and self-imposed abnegation, our capacities are limited; they offer no solution other than the personal determination of going against our-selves. They are necessary, certainly, but we know how difficult it is for us to practice them with faith and good sense without a giving in on the part of some or a voluntariness on the part of others. The death out of which we are reborn implies the passivity of the creature under God's hand, and this is very different from an ascetical effort and quite the opposite of psychological depressions. God takes it upon Himself to have us live this passivity by means of the trials of existence but there are a thousand and ¯ one way~ of taking the trials of hfe poorly~ and there is very little chance that one look upon them and ac-cept them with peace of soul. If one has not [so disposed himself well in advance it is very difficult io keep the n It is important not to forget that in killing our own will and desire we do so for a very precise purpose: so as to be r~surrected and not so as to destroy them. Existence and the Vows VOLUME 29, 1970 $4. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS kingdom and this death which leads to resurrection always in mind. What disposes to this passivity in faith is the realization we experience that the perfection of the gospel message is impossible for men. Coupled with this awareness is prayer.12 The cross which brings about our death is not within the reach of our initiative; prayer is. Prayer is both to take and not to take the initiative. Experience, as painful as it is beneficial, of our radical incapacity to imitate Christ in His chastity, His poverty and His obedience bears fruit in patience and simplicity, In this climate prayer leads us to union with Jesus Christ carrying His cross; it establishes us in Him and makes us die His death. He who prays in the peaceful admission of his weak-heSS is no longer he who lives, it is Christ who lives, dies, and is resurrected in him. First, it is Jesus Christ who lives in him--not yet in the fullness of transforming union which is the full par-ticipation in His resurrection but by a loving adhesion of the creature to his Creator and Lord by whom he is encouraged and sustained as he progresses. This loving adhesion reproduces in each one the experience of those who, in the history of Israel and later those who gathered around Jesus, attached themselves with all their force to the Lord. It is not yet the resurrec-tion; it is the life shared with the Lord made man along a road leading to the cross. At the price of this shared life the disciple, by a direct experience, enters into the mystery of his relationship of creature to Creator. Plung-ing himself in prayer and patience he hears the word of God as if it were being spoken to him: "In these words the Lord spoke to Jacob whom he created and to the Israel whom he himself fashioned: Do not be afraid; I have paid for you, I have called you by your name, you belong to me" (Is 42:1). Prayer not only enables us to realize that we are creatures, it also brings us in contact with the Lord as Beloved. There are those who know the Lord through the intermediary of people or books and there are those who have met him in another way, having been found by Him. They allowed themselves to be taken and from then on they belong to Him. The love of Jesus Christ penetrates into all the zones of personal-ity, intelligence, will, affectivity; and one day or an-other they understand that this love has become the X~Not just any form of prayer but certainly not discursive medi-tation which is still much too "active"; rather a very simple, loving prayer such as I have described elsewhere ("Pri~re perdue, pri~re retrouv~e," Vie consacrde, 1968, pp. 148-64). This form of prayer is possible only to someone who has at least begun to realize that the life of the Gospels is impossible for man. ver,y substance of their .being. They feel sure that the objections raised against their vow of chastity have little by little lost all their force as far as they are cdncerned. This universal availability which some will claim does not bind them to anyone in particular is, in f~ct, a. passionate adhesion to Someone. There is, they realize, no risk of being deceived or betrayed by this Someone and yet in spite of the certainty of their relationship with Him they .do not feel "settled in." The love of God is to .be created every dayl God is someone who has his views and his ways of doing things ~nd this sbmetimes adds a note of the unexpected to life. Those, then, who allowed themselves to be taken by Him do not have the feeling of "having been put i.n a position where nothing and no one will affect them." Having grown used to God a day comes when, in a silence which fulfills them, they sense the first signs of transforming union. This feeling of Presence which is not so much felt as it is experienced as something beyond all doubt is the beginning of this death and resurrection as they are lived conjointly, one within the other. For they know--and 'they live it in very precise encounters--that life with the Lord leads them to His' cross and on to the joy of rising with Him as well. This death of Jesus Christ in which baptism plunged them sadramentally now becomes their very existence. It is at this moment that they die to their immediate desire to love and be loved, to .their fleed to possess, and to their own will. What neither voluntary abnegation' nor interior asceticism--ivhich they prac-tice continually--could do, loving prayer accomplishes within them. They are in the morld, dead to the world, to themselves, and to others, and yet in direct propor-tion to this death they "are renewed, resurrected by an intense presence to the world through service, friendship, and love: I shall give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you; I shall remove the heart of stond from your bodies and give you a heart of flesh instead. I shall put my spirit in you, and make you keep my laws and,. sincerely respect my observances (Ez 36: 26-7). Resurrection The vocation of those who have embraced chastity, poverty, and Obedience is to anticipate the resurrection here in this world. It is likewise the destiny personally pro-posed to all. Let those accept it who canl Dead and resurrected, the religious--and every Chris-tian as well "to whom it is granted" (Mt 19:11) by God-- receives the outpouring oi universal charity. The Lord first .became for him the Beloved who introduces him ÷ + ÷ Existence and VOLUME Zg, 1970 by faith into the secret of an intimacy which is his joy. He has heard the word of the Psalm: "Listen, daughter, pay careful attention; forget your nation and your an-cestral home" (Ps 45:11). He listened and the Lord spoke to his heart: "I have loved you with an everlasting love and so I am constant in my affection for you. I build you once more; you shall be rebuilt, virgin of Israel" (Jr His joy is not his joy, it is God's joy; and he can in-crease it merely by allowing himself to be loved and filled. From that moment on the promise of God is no longer a promise: "I shall be their God and they shall be my people"; x3 it is a present reality: "I am my Be-loved's and my Beloved is mine" (Sg 6:3). The others, according to the diversities of divine grace, become his beloved as well.x4 The religious loves them dearly. The friendship which he vows them is no longer something in addition to his love for God; it tends, at least, towards total unification with this love. These others are not enveloped as it were in a universal charity which would deny them any particular atten-tion. He loves them all and he loves each one for what he is. He does not love Peter and John in the same way. And it is only fitting that God placed this preference for one or another in our hearts. Because of this exceptional grace he reaches almost without effort the end he hoped for and worked so hard to attain. In one and the same act he loves his unique Savior and the creature who truly becomes for him the sacrament of the presence of God. He was obliged to live his consecration to God in renouncing human affections because, in fact, his heart was divided. From now on he lives only one love and it seems to him that he understands the friendship of Ignatius for Xavier, of Francis of Assisi for Clare, of Bernard for William. He does not need someone to tell him this marvelous story; it has become the story of his own life. He is poor and yet he possesses the earth. He no longer has his own will and yet God Himself does what-ever he requests: "If you ask for anything in my name, + + + Edot~ard Pousset, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ This phrase is found throughout the Old Testament. u Friendships and human affections can and do exist in those who are consecrated to God by the vows but have not as yet reached that intimate knowledge of Love. Ordinarily these commitments are not very profound and this is for the better for as long as the heart is, in fact, divided between God and creatures. There are other friendships and human affections which are, however, quite differ-ent from those just described. I am speaking of those which have God Himself as their initiative: those where He has made Himself the principle, the bond, and the end. These presuppose the intimate knowledge of Love and they take possession of the whole heart so that there is no division whatsoever between God and creatures. ][ will do it" (Jn 14:14). He seeks only the kingdom of God and yet everything else is given to him over and above this. At this stage joy and the cross are lived as one. He does not talk about it because he knows that he can hardly explain it to himself. Some will see only his suffering; others will not see beyond his surprising free-dom. But his hope knows no limits; he does not see that what he has been given gratuitously should not be given to all. He reveals his secret without telling it: it is to have believed. I do have faith, Lord. Help the little faith I havel 4. 4. 4. £~ten~e and VOLUME 29, 1970 237 cYRIL VOLLERT, S.J. The Interplay of Prayer and Action in Teilhard de Chardin ÷ ÷ ÷ Cyril Vollert, S.J., is a professor of theolob, y at Mar-quette University; Milwaukee,. Wis-consin 53233. REVIEW,FOR RELIGIOUS The theme underlying Teilhard de Chardin's ideas concerning the interplay between prayer and action is well stated in his essay, "The Heart of the Problem." a He wonders why Christianity, with its tremendous power to attract, is not more successful in the modern world. Not only have energetic missionary efforts in Asia, Africa, and elsewhere produced meager results, but the great masses of workers over the earth, as well as most scientists, have found little to interest them in the Church. Teilhard believes that he knows the answer. Any at-tempt at solution must take into account the changes that have marked men's thinking for over a hundred years. We now know that the universe is not static; our cosmos is a cosmogenesis. And man himself is involved in the evolutionary process; mankind is an anthropogenesis. Man is still being shaped, and the human race is heading toward social unification. In the past, religion has sought to perfect man by directing him upward, toward God, and has been little concerned with purely human prog-ress. But men of our time are convinced that they can complete themselves by moving forward. So the vital question is this: is the salvation of man to be achieved by looking above or by looking ahead---or by both to-gether? Failure to face this question squarely results in religious apathy. Teilhard proposes to face it. Why should anyone wish to choose between the Up-ward and the Forward? Teilhard contends that we must not make any such choice. We must combine the two 1 In The Future o] Man (New York: Harper and Row, 1964), pp. 260-69. movements. If Christianity were to ignore the new aspira-tions of mankind, it could not hold its own adherents, much less win over the unconverted. Without human faith and love, Christianity is cold and unattractive to contemporary man. The Christian faith must be intensely interested in the values of the world and of matter, for the simple reason that it is rooted in the Incarnation. In pre-evolutionary ages, Christianity perhaps assigned too subordinate a function to man and the earth. But just as the Incar-nation did not take place until our planet was socially, politically, and psychologically ready for Christ, so now, in the evolutionary perspectives opening up before us, we can see that the kingdom of God will not come until mankind in its anthropogenesis has reached collective maturity. The supernaturalizing Christian Upward must be incorporated into the human Forward. In this way faith in God will recover all its power to attract and convert, for we can believe wholly in God and in the world. We can do this because Christ, Savior and Re-deemer, is carrying evolution both forward and upward to its final goal. Teilhard thoroughly believed in his own program and, while stir a young man, consecrated himself to it: As far as I can, because I am a priest, I would henceforth be the first to become aware of what the world loves, pursues, suffers. I would be the first to seek, to sympathize, to toil; the first in self-fulfilment, the first in self-denial. For the sake of the world I would be more widely human in my sympathies and more nobly terrestrial in my ambitions than any of the world's servants. That is why I have clothed my vows and my priesthood (and it is this that gives me my strength and my happiness) in a determination to accept and to divinize the powers of the earth? Christians have different but complementary voca-tions; they devote themselves in varying degrees of in-tensity to action or to prayer or to both together. God's call, which Teilhard likens to the star of the Magi, "leads each man differently, by a different path, in accord with his vocation. But all the paths which it indicates have this in common: that they lead always upward." a The world, too, has its vocation; it is destined to attain its perfection in the fullness of the incarnate Word, in the cosmic Christ. Teilhard's own vocation was manifested in two truths which God had let him see: the universality of God's magnetism and the intrinsic value of man's undertakings. He was eager to spread far and wide a knowledge of these two truths. And so, on the day after ~Hymn o] the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 128. 8 The Divine Milieu (New York: Harper, 1960), p. 120. + Prayer and Action VOLUME 29, 1970. 239 ÷ ÷ ÷ Cydl Voll~t, $.]: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2,4O his final religious profession, in a meditation on his priesthood, he offered his life to God: "And I, Lord God for my (very lowly) part, would wish to be the apostle --and, if I dare say so, the evangelist---of your Christ in the universe." ~ This he regarded as his "special vocation," and he was faithful to it to the day he died. Such a vocation is carried out in action. Teilhard in-sists that all Christians have the duty of building the earth. Even the increase of leisure, fostered by technical. progress, ought to be consecrated to research. Teilhard tried to show that human efforts to promote intellectual, technical, and social advances must bring about the nat-ural conditions of maturity necessary for establishing the kingdom of God. But the urge to action must be directed and sustained by prayer. The Christian must work; but he must Christianize his work. The supernatural con-summation of the world cannot be accomplished by merely natural powers; the world must be sanctified and supernaturalized.5 Therefore a life of prayer and con-templation has a high efficacy, indeed, a "creative power': for the world. Seeing the mystic immobile, crucified or rapt in prayer, some may perhaps think that his activity is in abeyance or has left this earth: they are mistaken. Nothing in the world is more intensely alive and active than purity and prayer, which hang like an unmoving light between the universe and God. Through their serene transparency flow the waves of creadve power, charged with natural virtue and with grace.° The health and integrity of the Church depend on the care exercised by its members in carrying out their functions, which range from worldly occupations to vocations that call for penance or the most sublime contemplation: "All those different roles are necessary." 7 Christians .who devote themselves to prayer have been singled out for the task of carrying the world above its concern for pleasure and enjoyment toward higher goals. They are like miners laboring in the depths of matter; or, to change the figure, they supply the air which their brothers need to breathe. Along with the sick and the suffering, they become "the most active agents in the very process that seems to sacrifice and crush them." s Purity (here understood as the rectitude brought into our lives by the love of God), faith, fidelity, charity, and hope must accompany the most earthly of our actions. But these virtues flower in contemplation ~ Hymn of the Universe, p. 151. s H. de Lubac, S.J., Teilhard de Chardin: The Man and His Mean-~ ing (New York: Hawthorn, 1965), pp. 123 f. O Hymn of the Universe, p. 154. ~ The Divine Milieu, p. 75. ~ L'energie humaine (Paris: Seuil, 1962), p. 64. which, in spite of its apparent immobility, is the highest and most intense form of life.9 In response to God's grace, which is "always on the alert to excite our first look and our first prayer," we are led "to posit intense and continual prayer at the origin of our invasion by the divine milieu, the prayer which begs for the fundamental gift: Lord, that I may see." On saying this, Teilhard at once utters his petition: Lord, we know and feel that You are everywhere around us; but it seems that there is a veil before our eyes. Let the light of Your countenance shine upon us in its universality. May Your deep brilliance light up the innermost parts of the massive obscurities in which we move. And, to that end, send us Your Spirit, whose flaming action alone can operate the birth and achievement of the great metamorphosis which sums up all inward perfection and towards which Your creation yearns: Send forth Your Spirit and they will be created, and You will renew the face of the earth?° Teilhard is quite cognizant of the prayer that is in-herent in the duties of a person's state of life. Such duties, faithfully and well performed, put us in contact with God: Let us ponder over this basic truth till we are steeped in it . God, at his most Vitally active and most incarnate, is not remote from us, wholly apart from the sphere of the tangible; on the contrary, at every moment he awaits us in the activity, the work to be done, which every moment brings. He is, in a sense, at the point of my pen, my pick, my paint-brush, my needle--and my heart and my thought. It is by carrying to its natural completion the stroke, the line, the stitch I am working on that I shall lay hold on that ultimate end towards which my will at its deepest levels tends.'~ However, in addition to the prayer that may be in-volved in our work, explicit prayer is indispensable if our action is to be effective for constructing the kingdom of God. Teilhard is very insistent on this truth. He pgints out that unless we maintain direct contact with God by prayer and the sacraments, "the tide of the di-vine omnipresence, and our perception of it, would weaken until all that was best in our human endeavor, without being entirely lost to the world, would be for us ~niptied of God." But if we safeguard our relation to .God who is encountered in prayer, "there is no need to [ear that the most banal, absorbing, or attractive of oc-cupations should force us to depart from Him." Be-cause of the creation of the universe by God, and par-ticularly in view of the Incarnation, "nothing here below is profane for those who know how to see." Teilhard strongly exhorts us: "Try, with God's help, to perceive ~ H. de Lubac, La pensde religieuse de Pdre Teilhard de Chardin (Paris: Aubier, 1962), p. 318. Io The Divine Milieu, pp. 111 [. v. Hymn oI the Universe, p. 83 f. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLOME 29; 19~0 241 4- 4- 4- REVIEW, FOR ,RELI~IOU$ the connection-~even physical and natural--which binds your labor with the building of the Kingdom of Heaven." We should never do anything without realizing its constructive value in Christ, and pursuing it with all our might.12 In line with his perception of the harmony between faith and science, Teilhard endeavored to integrate his own prayer and his work. He became increasingly aware that he had to develop in himself and impart to others "the sort of mysticism that makes one seek passionately for God in the heart of every substance and every ac-tion." He saw dearly that "God alone, and no personal effort, can open our eyes to this light and preserve this vision in us." He well understood that the "science of divinizing life calls for the diligent co-operation of every form of activity . It needs the sacraments, and prayer, and the apostolate, and study." 18 If we wish the divine milieu to grow around us, we must steadfastly "guard and nourish all the forces of union, of desire, and of prayer that grace offers us." 1~ Success cannot crown so great an enterprise unless prayer issues in work: "I know that the divine will will only be revealed to me at each moment if I exert my-self to the utmost." 1, The Christian must preserve his union with God by prayer; but he must also respond to all the demands of grace: "To win for himself a little more of the creative energy, he tirelessly develops his thought, dil
Issue 28.2 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDIT~)R R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant edRor, as wel! as books for review, should be sent to ~EVIE~,V FOR RELIOIOUSj 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32t Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, ~be editoria| ot~ices being located at 612 llumboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Questions for answering should be seni to the address of the Questions and Answers editor, MARCH ~969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 2 ANDRE AUW, C.P. The Evangelical Counsels: Ways of Becoming Free- Many years ago a young man walked into a Jewish synagogue and at the time for the readings, arose, took the scroll that was handed to Him, and read the follow-ing lines: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me Because the Lord has anointed me To bring good tidings to the afflicted, He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, Toproclaim liberty to the captives, Andthe opening of the prison to those who are bound. The young man, of course, was Jesus Christ, a man sent by God to be a liberator of men: And His mission was never more beautifully described than in those words of Isaiah which he read to the assembly: "He has sent'me to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to .those who are bound." The mission was one of liberation, of enabling men to become free. If it is true that our mission as religious is the same as Christ's mission, then it is important thatwe .examine the vows, and the counsels on which they are based, in the light of freedom. And so I have chosen to do this, tO discuss the vows as possible means of liberating us as persons, so that we can help others to become liberated. I would like to begin this consideration of the vows with a personal reflection that might serve as a frame-work for my approach. For the past five years I have been working with a great variety of groups: college students, married couples, priests, religious--men and women of all faiths or of no faith. And I have been surprised at the consistency of their impressions of re-ligious, Gradually I have been able to weave together a fabric + ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P., writes from the Center for Students of the Person; P.O. Box 2157; La Jolla, California 92037. VOLUME 28," 1969 .175 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from their attitudes and responses. It is a fabric that is not pleasant to touch. I have the impression that their one dominant way of evaluating us is ~in terms of free-dom. For the most part they see us as terribly unfree. They see us as dedicated, well-intentioned men and women, who are, nevertheless, imprisoned by our way of life, trapped by our traditions, hemmed in, and, as the c.ollege students say, "hung up" by our systems and legal prescriptions. The most vocal expression of these feelings has come from the college student groups. And perhaps that is why my initial reaction to this consistent message was one of annoyance and irritation. I found myself rather defensive at what seemed to be an adolescent smugness on the part of these students, and at what appeared to be a. very unfair and unbalanced evaluation. Not all reli-gious are so rigid, unfree, trapped, and hemmed in. That was my initial reaction, But when I reflected a little more I discovered that I was reacting to things I did not want to believe could be true. And when I could be more honest with myself, I had to admit that this is the very image that many religious, including myself, have projected. My pondering also gave me some other valuable in-formation. Not only were these people telling me things about myself that I found hard to hear. They were also trying to tell me things about themselves which they found hard to bear. They were speaking of their fears. Seeing me unfree they were reminded of their own fear of never becoming free enough to be a mature loving person. They thought of their fear of being swallowed up in an impersonal, computerized society, of their fear of .being trapped by outdated traditions and hemmed in by unreasonable laws. All of their fears and frustrations which have been spilling out in bloody streaks from Watts to Washington, D.C., from the lawns of Berkeley to the halls of Columbia, were freshly underlined. It seems that they had turned toward, me, a religious, in hope, but finding me unfree, had turned away from me in sadness. They felt they must search elsewhere to find someone free enough to be able to show them the way to freedom. ¯ And so it seems to me to be a vital need to consider the vows in the light of freedom, to measure them by the manner in which they measure up as liberating forces in our lives. Nietzsche once said: "If they¯want me to believe in their God. they are going to have to sing better hymns for me; they are going to have to show me that they are men who have been liberated." Mod-ern man is saying the same thing to us today. He knows the message of Christ is essentially ]iberative, and be wants to see how well that message has liberated the religious who call themselves witnesses, before he will. consider buying it. In order to understand the vows as ways of becoming free we should understand what we mean by .freedom. It is not the ability to do whatever pleases me. That is narcissism. St. Paul has described it beautifully in the following instruction to the Galatians: "You should be free to serve one another in love" (Gal 5:14). And Doctor Carl Rogers spells that out a little more sharply when he talks about "a freedom which. [man] courageously uses to live his potentialities., which assists [him] in becoming human, in relating to others, in being a per-son." This is a freedom which makes us responsible lovers, concerned about responding sensitiveIy to others and not inhibited by the shadows of our own fears. How can the vows be ways of enabling us as religious to possess this kind of freedom? Let us examine them separately. First, poverty. What is there about this way of being a.nd living which can be liberating for us? In view of the definition of freedom as the ability to serve my brother in love, I would see poverty as a statement of value. For me, the true spirit of poverty is a way of being which can help me to tell my brother that I consider him more important than the material possessions I can acquire. And by not being so dependent upon .having things I am truly freer to share myself with others. Not needing to satisfy so many of my own desires, I can be more open and responsive to the needs of others. This is certainly the accent that we find in Scripture. Having things or not having things is of secondary importance in New Testament reflection on poverty. The emphasis is not on having, but on being: being able to "be" for others. The tragedy of the rich man Dives in the Lazarus story is not that he was wealthy, but that his wealth had made him insensitive and in-capable of meeting the needs of his suffering brother. There is, I feel, a parallel today in the attitude of people towards the poverty of religious. I do not be-lieve that intelligent people are harshly critical of us be-cause we possess large buildings and bank accounts. But they are severely critical when our buildings or our money keep us aloof and uninvolved in serious social issues. They can tolerate our need for some kind of. status but they cannot forgive us when we are incapable of service. As religious we need help in order to appreciate pov-erty as a way of freeing us from the paralyzing effect of accumulated material possessions. Freeing us from the demands of our own egos, so that we can walk--or even + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 177 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS run--to meet the needs of others. And so that we can do this without wanting a lot of "extras." When we do not have this spirit, something rather ugly happens to us even though we do not consciously promote it. We become very protective of our own in-terests. Speaking in another context, Charles Davis re-ferred to this self-service: The official church is racked with fear, insecurity and anxiety, with a consequent intolerance and lack of love. And what frustrates any effort at remedy is the perpetual dominance of the system over the person., the system always comes first. I would like to hope that I could become a different kind of religious, one who is seen as valuing the human person above any thing or system. I would like to be seen by those whom I serve as poor in material posses-sions, but rich in caring, unselfish as I serve them, and sometimes even a bit joyous in the sharing of myself: what I am and what I have as a Christ-person. This is the kind of witness that modern man needs and wants. He is terribly frustrated and unhappy with his accumulated wealth. He finds the things he possesses getting in the way of his relationships with the people he loves. And he does not know how to free himself. He needs people who can show him a new set of values and a new way of being with people. And finally, in regard to poverty, it is worthwhile re-calling that when Christ, after the miracle of Naim, was asked: "Are you the Messiah?" He responded not by pointing to the miracle of new life given to a dead man. Instead, He said: "Go and tell John what you see., the poor have the gospel preached to them." That was, and is still, the sign par excellence of the messianic liberator. It is the sign that shows people what Christ and His message are all about. Next let us examine obedience as a way of becoming free. I especially like Father Van Kaam's concept of obedience. It is taken from the root meaning of the word, "obaudire," which means "to hear." For me, obedience can be a wonderfully freeing thing when it is understood as a sensitive listening to the heartbeat of the Christian community. I think I would also add, a responsive and responsible listening. This means that those in authority and those under them have a need to listen to one an-other, to listen together to those they are committed to serve. It is responsive, and this implies a kind of generous spontaneity which is far removed from docile acceptance of an order. And it is responsible, which implies the recognition of an obligation that stems from a love com-mitment. For many the word obedience conjures up fantasies of force and control and restriction. How then can obedience be seen as a liberating force? I believe that one factor which can truly make obedience liberating is the factor of trust. The social and behavioral scientists have done con-siderable work in the area of authority relationships and they have discovered some interesting facts. They have found that when a climate of trust exists in a group, the people who are in positions of authority, are more re-laxed and do not feel a need to maintain tight kontrol and supervision. They are inclined to be open to sug-gestions for change. Those who are working for them tend to produce better and to assume responsibility for the welfare of the group as well as for the work they must do individually. One of the elements which Doctor Jack Gibb isolated in groups where authority relationships were poor was the attitude on the part of those in positions of leadership. These leaders held two assumptions regarding those who worked for them: that they were not to be trusted, and that they were irresponsible. Unfortunately, in many cases, these assumptions became a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy which created the very conditions that man-agement sought to avoid. There may well be similar assumptions on the part of religious superiors. We have had a long heritage of pro-tectiveness, and it is hard to effectively break away frown these patterns. Undoubtedly the atmosphere of trust is much better now than it was ten years ago, but there most likely is still a great deal of work to be done in religious communities in this area. Our obedience can be lib-erating for us only when, together, we can begin to as-sume that we can be trusted and that we can be re-sponsible for ourselves. Paradoxical as it may sound, a person must be truly independent before he can surrender himself to another. Thus I, as a religious, must experience your trust and my own responsibility before I can surrender my needs and desires in such a way that together we can listen sensi-tively to the needs of the community we serve. It is then, and only then, that I can find it possible to accept a diffi-cult assignment or perform unpleasant tasks as a respon-sive and responsible lover. Doctor Carl Rogers has said that in order to be a really effective teacher a person must have a profound trust in the human organism and its potentialities. Otherwise he will cram the student full of all the information he thinks is good for him rather than help the student to learn what is important for him. Having worked with Doctor Rogers I can state that this is not mere theory for him; it is the way he functions with people. He pre- + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 179 ÷ ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS' fers to be gullible, to take people at face value, .and to believe the things they say to him. And oddly enough, people are so warmed by this kind of unconditional ac-ceptance that they soon stop telling lies and cease trying to impress. They find they no longer have to hide their refil feelings, and it is a very wonderful experience for them. By experiencing the trust of a loving person they were.able to begin to surrender a bit of themselves. I believe it is this kind of trust which is needed to transform our understanding of obedience. Obedience should not make us docile conformists, but responsible lovers. Today more than ever before we need a concept of obedience which will enable, us to assume responsi-bility for our actions and our lives. We need greater power to freely surrender our self-centered desires and needs. The example of Peter in the New Testament seems to be a striking illustration of the kind of obedience I am talking about. Peter began his authority relationship with Christ feeling very insecure. He made a great many mistakes, yet each time he did so, Christ confirmed him as a person by making him feel that He still trusted him. The peak experience for Peter came during the meet-ing with Christ outside the palace of the high priest. Peter, ashamed at his betrayal, finally found the courage to look at Christ, and that loving glance of the Master made Peter aware that Christ still believed in him, still trusted him. It was only after this that Peter felt secure enough to accept the responsible task of shepherding the flock for Christ. It was Christ's trust of Peter that made' possible the entrusting of the flock to him. And it was this same trust that transformed Peter into a re-sponsive and responsible lover. This is a way of being that modern man wants to dis-cover very badly. He finds it so hard to reach beyond the limits of his own ego. He is searching for someone who can show him an obedience which is an exercise of responsibility freely chosen, and yet something binding and demanding because that is the way of love. Modern man needs to experience this kind of trust-filled loving so that he too can become free to love. He wants to be able to say in the words of The Little Prince: "I am re-sponsible for my rose." That would be for him the state-ment of a truly obedient man, rejoicing in an obedience which is richly liberating. Finally we come to the vow of celibate love. I have chosen to discuss it under this title rather than that of chastity because I believe this best expresses, the real meaning o.f the vow. There has been so much written on celibacy in the past year that I iliad it difficult say something which will ,1 not be excessively redundant. Perhaps the best approach will be to share some of my reactions to recent articles that I have read. Frankly, I am not impressed byo being told that I am an eschatological sign because I am a celibate. I really do not think that the men and women who come in contact with me are go.ing to experience a love that. is redeeming simply by being aware that I can point to a way they will love one another in heaven. They need to know how to love here and now. I am not denying the theology of eschatological witness; I am saying that it is not a good enough reason to justify my be!ng a celibate. But perhaps the thing that disturbs me most about recent discussions on celibacy is the somewhat naive as-sumption that the celibate way of life "ex se" or. auto-matically will produce good results; that it will make us better lovers. Anyone who has worked closely with re-ligious in different communities 'knows that this simply is not an assumption based on fact. The fact is that we find it hard to be generous and warm lovers, in com-munity as well as out of community. And for me that is the very heart of the matter: being able to love others humanly, warmly. One of the most beautiful compliments that I.have re-ceived is a statement that has poignantly sad overtones: "You know you don't seem like a priest; you're so hu-man." What kind of celibacy is it that 'contributes to such an image? On the other hand I am equally disturbedby propo-nents of some undefined "third way," who speak so un-realistically of married love. Marriage can be just as de-humanizing as celibacy, as any counselor knows. Sexual expression :without sexual integration can be just as dev-astating for married persons as the lack of sexual expres, sion without-sexual integration can be for celibates. Neither marriage nor celibacy guarantees any(hing in the way of mature loving. However, both can be Ways of becoming free in order to grow as lovers. Both demand sexual integration as a prerequisite for personal fulfill-ment. And botl~ take a great deal of work and pain and perseverance and patience.' What then is there about the celibate .way of loving which can be for a religiousa liberating experience? First of all, I believe that celibacy, lovingly and. freely embraced, enabIes me to say to those I am committed to serve that I can love them in a way which is rich and deep and truly human, but in a way which is not demanding. And this is a magnificently freeingkind of awareness. It means that when I have accepted my sexuality and be-gun to integrate if, I can add another dimension to my VOLUME ~'St 2.969 "~, ; ISt 4, 4, Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18~ relationships. I can show people what it means to love someone just ~for himself. Not for his usefulness or phys-ical attractiveness. Not for his fine mind or remarkable talents, but just for himself. I can show him a way of loving and living which inte-grates se~xuality in a way that is different from married people. "It is a way which recognizes the splendor of sexuality, but which at the same time chooses to refrain from sexual .expression. I can show this person how to love both men and women warmly and deeply, with tenderness and even affection, without the overriding fear of automatic sexual involvement. And this, I believe, is precisely the kind of loving that modern man is hungry for. He is very confused by his sexuality, and it has become for him the alpha and omega of his existence. Deep within him he senses that ful-fillment iiavolves more than sex, but he finds it hard to translate this vague inner feeling into the language of everyday living because he does not find enough lovers who think much differently from the way he does. Modern man can learn a great deal from a religious who appreciates his sexuality enough to give it just enough importance in his life, but no more than that. How much it can mean for the confused modern to experi-ence a love which accepts him not for anything he has, but only for what he is. This alone is enough to be redemptive for many men and women. It seems as if there is in the heart of man a yearning for the model lover who is strong enough in serf-mastery to be free to be a kind of savior for others. In the folklore of most nations and tribes there are redemptive figures who, most often, were celibates during the time of their inessianic mission. We have only to recall the mythical warriors of the Far East and of-Indian culture, the many versioned prince myths of the early Middle Ages, the knights of King Arthur, and even in our own coun-try, the man of the West, the hero of the desert and prairie. Let us think of this last figure [or a moment. In story and song he has been pictured as a man of great physi-cal and moral strength. But primarily he is a man on a redemptive mission, living only for others. He rides into a town, bringing his honesty and integrity. He is manly; but also gentle with women. He is compassion-ate toward the poor and helpless. He stamps out evil and plants the seeds of goodness and truth. He brings sal~cation to a village. And when his redemptive mission is accomplished, this celibate lover accepts the love that people can give him in return for his, but he never de-mands it. Then, 'his work finished, he rides of[ alone to anbther ~¢illage and other people who need his kind of loving in order to be redeemed, to be liberated. In a similar way the modern religious celibate ac-complishes his redemptive mission. What he really gives to others is a portion of his own gift of freedom. He too will have to "ride" alone, but only in the sense of not having a single exclusive love relationship. For as he grows in his own mature sense of .freedom he ,will 'be enriched by many deep and beautiful love relationships. And this too becomes a gift to be shared with others, the gift of knowing how to put love and sexuality into a splendid and yet practical perspective. The task of integrating these two elements is always a difficult one. But one insight is very important. A sister, during a weekend workshop with .married couples, ex-pressed it well. She said: "You know, before this Week-end I had planned to leave my religious community. But now, I'm not so sure. You see, I thought my problems were the problems of a celibate religious, and I dis-covered that they are the problems of a woman. I found married women with the same basic problems, and they are making better adjustments to. them than I have been doing." This is so very true. Most of our problems are ,not the result of our celibacy but of our humanness. Neither marriage nor sexual intercourse will resolve our ten-sions. These will be resolved when we learn how to be-come truly human and loving. Then it will be possible for the celibate way of life to be rewarding for us and redeeming for others. It is then that we can demonstrate to others a love that is most beautiful because it is least demanding. Celibacy will not automatically make us great lovers, but a lover who understands and values his celibacy can be a model lover for others, a lover who is free enough to be able to free others. Certainly it is this kind of loving that is needed so desperately today by modern man who no longer feels lovable or loved. It may well be that only when he .ex. periences such undemanding love will he be ~onvinced of the genuine value of Christ's love. It may be that he will be able to believe in the celibate lover of Calvary only after he has come to believe in other celibates who can surrender, as He did, one of the most priceless gifts that God has given them. Perhaps .then, when he sees us free enough to surrender our sexuality for his sake, he may come to believe that he really is worth sav-ing and that God does care about him after all. It is a knowledge that many men still seek when they come ih contact with celibate lovers. These, then, are some of my reflections on the vows as ways of becoming free. I would like to understand the vows as ways of enabling us to be free enough to make it possible for others to believe in themselves. I would.like ÷ ÷ ÷ The Counsels,~ . VOLUME' 28~' 1969" '° :. ,183 + to think that we can be free from the obsessive need to accumulate things, free to surrender ourselves to others, free to love deeply and warmly. And that is why I feel that we must seek new insights concerning the vows. A young high school student, talking, about religious life and the vows, was asked what kind of religious com-munity he would have if he were to start one tomorrow, The young man said: "Well; I don't think I would make them take any vows." But then he paused and reflected on that, and he added a sentence that sums up the whole meaning of the vows and the religious life. He said: "Unless it would be possible to take a vow., to love." If that were truly the spirit behind our vows, they would be, for us, ways of becoming free. Finally, it is well to remember that the way of the vows is the way of Christ Himself. It is the way of a man with a mission to set men free. And the men of Christ's time were not so very different from the men of our day: angry, restless, rebellious, indifferent, frightened, and insecure, yet searching for a Christ-person who would be their liberator. Christ walked into their midst, heard their cry, and showed them a way of life that was for them a way of freedom. He showed them how to be free~ from the de-humanizing demands of the law and tradition, free from the imprisoning fear of what people might say, free from the overconcern about food and power and sex. Christ showed them a way of poverty and obedience and celibate love. Today we, as .religious, stand in the place of Christ to continue His redemptive mission, to be His witnesses. If we can find better ways to be what we say we are, then we too can arise in the assembly and announce to the world that we also have been sent to "bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound." And hopefully, people will hear us not because of what we say, but because of what we are: witnesses. Perhaps the following lines spell that out for us in clearer language: A witness is A man who stands out Because he is not afraid to stand up A man who outreaches others Because he reaches out to other.s Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 184 A man who lifts others up Because he bends down to their weakness A man whose heart has grown great Because he has learned to become small A witness is all this and more He is a man who walks across the wastelands Of human lives And uncovers hidden springs A man who opens windows everywhere To the sunlight and springtime fragrance Of the risen Christ And passing through the doors of seILfilled hearts He lights and leaves behind An everlasting flame Ultimately a witness is a man who does all these things Because He is not afraid To love. The CoUnsels VOLUME 28, 1969 I85 CARL J. PETER Culture and the Vocation Crisis Carl J. Peter teaches theology and lives at Curley Hall, Box 49; Cath-olic University of America in Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A change has occurred in the way young men and women view the prospect of becoming a priest, lay brother, or nun. At the very least they manifest less en-thusiasm or inclination along these lines. One may ask when this began or indeed inquire whether it has not just begun. Few, I think, will challenge the proposition itself. This change of attitude is very definitely evidenced by those who have matriculated in the Catholic school sys-tem. One encounters it in the Mary and Johnny of whom but a few years back while they were still on the primary level in parochial schools, we asked why they could not read. All of this is true and will be conceded by those who regard the situation as healthy no less than by those who regard it as disastrous. Religious Convictions and the Young The change in question has causes that are closely connected with religious conviction or its lack. There is an obvious hesitancy on the part of youth, an unwilling-ness or an unreadiness to embrace as a state of life the ministry of the gospel in its traditional form. But it is a great oversimplification, I feel, to assign as a total ex-planation a weakening or loss of faith. In some cases, + precisely the opposite is true. + At least many of the young people involved are any- + thing other than lacking in generosity. Interest in im-proving the lot of tbeir fellow man characterizes their mental and emotional outlook. Here is where the diffi-culty lies. In ever increasing numbers they fail to see this humanitarian interest connected with the life of the priesthood, sisterhood, and brotherhood. One may contend that this is because of the present conditions in which these callings are lived and exercised, because, for example, so much of a priest's time and 18fi energy is spent in activities that have no apparent con- nection with the betterment of mankind or at least one that is very minimal. Devoting each Monday to counting the collection; running off the Sunday bulletin on the rectory or parish duplicator; keeping the books for the school hot lunch program--the instances could be multi-plied. Now it is surely a mistake to associate a priest's work exclusively with such activities. But to ask young people to ignore this aspect is expecting a bit too much. A large part of the problem with regard to vocations is that prospective candidates see too much activity on the part of the cleric or religious" too little connected with making mankind's future better than its past. Liturgy and a Life Choice But this is not all. Even in cultic functions associated with the administration of the sacraments, there is real difficulty. Whether humanity is genuinely better off be-cause of all this divine worship is a question posed over and over again. Here it is not a matter of poorly or sel-dom exercised functions of the priest but rather the im-portance pure and simple of such fimctions in the world at all. Many adults recognize this and conclude that the vocation crisis connected with such questioning is really a crisis of faith. My contention, however, is that at least some of these difficulties and doubts in the religious realm are caused by a cultural change that affects the entire world of man in all its facets. The crisis of vocations is connected often enough with a corresponding crisis of faith. This is not so much because many have simply ceased to believe but rather because the atmosphere in which they have grown up and live demands a choice between conflict-ing values, religious ones included. As a result, young people find it both harder to reject the latter outright and yet more difficult as well to embrace them fully. The reason is that our day is one of cultural transformation with all that this involves. If this is anything other than self-evident, it is nevertheless important. The Meaning of Cultural Change To make the statement that culture has a great deal to do with the unrest experienced by youth and indeed believers in general is hardly a novelty today. It is intro-duced into the present context with the hope that it will be more than a mere repetition. To achieve this will re-quire making an effort to clarify what is meant by cul-tural change. Only then will others be able to judge whether this is in fact what is taking place with profound religious consequences. Such explanation is precisely what is lacking in a number of other attempts to trace the believer's troubles to this same source. Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 18'/ Carl .I. Peter REVIE%' FOR RELIGIOUS Examples may be of help. Leslie Dewart has con-nected the present plight Of Christianity with a retention of Hellenism or Hellenistic culture.x There is nothing to be gained from adding one more name to the list of critics of The Future of Belief.2 It is, however, a far from easy task to determine what he means by Hellenism. And yet this is quite important for his contention. Something very similar is true of Bishop John Robin-son. 8 He contends that the present difficulties of Chris-tianity are in great part connected with the fact that fundamental truths are being rejected wholesale because they are presented in a "supranaturalistic" mode of thought: The latter is surely a cultural phenomenon, but one that is extremely vague. It seems to involve a world picture with God outside the physical and psychic uni-verse but intervening now and again. To retain such a world picture, he writes, is incompatible with being a truly modern man. Meaningful truths fall under the weight of their utterly unacceptable trappings that bear witness to a dead culture. But here precisely is his problem. God, for Robinson, is not intended to be the product of a culture. Yet if one cannot tell what you mean by the latter, you do run the risk of having others hard pressed to determine whether you really stand for a God who endures despite a cultural change. At this point some are probably wondering whether it is not precisely a crisis o[ faith that must be dealt with. Perhaps it is. But to no small degree it is first of all a cultural crisis leaving its marks on all of us. Bishop Robinson may not have been successful in explaining what he means by a change of culture. He has never-theless described well the period in which we are living. It is the age of the overlap, the period in which some-thing very new is still in the process of emerging. Ours is a period of tension or dialectic. Hopefully a beneficial synthesis will be the outcome. One thing is sure; neither of the two extremes in the present picture culturally is likely to remain as is. Both are going to be modified and remarkably so. But it is the present state that must be analyzed, again with the observation that understanding what is happening is a first step toward dealing reason-ably and effectively with the situation. Good practice depends on an accurate assessment of what is involved. Dewart and Robinson call attention to the pangs in-volved in the change through which we are living. Both are agreed on this. An old culture is in the process 1 Leslie Dewart, The Future of Belie[ (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966). '-' See the remarks of Jaroslav Pelikan and Bernard J. F. Lonergan in Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), pp. 352-6 and 336-51 respec-tively. s John A. T. Robinson, Honest to God (London: SCM, 1963). of dying. It does not offer a form that religious belief will find viable in the future.4 In my opinion they are correct; the. cultural state we are now in cannot last. Indeed it takes no prophet to see that it will not. An-other thing is equally sure. Things will not revert to the way they were before all this began, whenever that was. The present situation makes that abundantly clear. Culture and Values Our age is.witnessing a remarkable conflict of values, and they are not directly religious in nature. At least they can be and are embraced by those who avowedly profess or practice no religion at all as well as by various types of believers in a Supreme Being. Now if this is true, it is also a prerequisite for understanding the cultural crisis of the present. For what 3[ mean by culture involves at0 the very least values and indeed a'more or less connected set of values. My contention is that we are living in a period of.history where there is a particularly fierce struggle between two opposing sets of purely human values. If some sort of synthesis is the most likely and desirable outcome, still, living in the overlap can be confusing. Two sets of values compete; each has something ~o be said for it, something to commend it. For many this is stimulating, but for no small number, ever increasing knowledge, acquaintance, and experience preclude, decisions on a clear course of action. In fact at times the result is paralysis or choices no sooner made than regretted, commitments given and then retracted. But if a convict of values can lead to these practical consequences, what sort of values are in question? The Good and Its Modes Getting things done or a sense of practical "know-how" has from the earliest days been a characteristic of our country. Indeed, it was very quickly identified ~with Yankees and their ingenuity. To put this another way, achievemerit and performance are values long esteemed by our society. And yet as ea'rly as the War between the States they were sought after in two radically opposed ¯ ways. Preservation of a heritage was the performance one section of the nation desired; improvement, refine. ment, elimination of defects and evils inspired the other. Concretely the value of performance, know-how, or achievement was realized in two conflicting ways. Given the question of freedom and human dign.ity, it is dear ~For a case along the same line but developed with heavy dependence on American Pragmatism as a philosophical basis, see Eugene Fontinell, "Religious Trtith in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 16 (1967), pp. 283-315. 4- 4- 4- ¥ocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ,196~ Carl ~ J.~ Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 190 that a moral issue was at stake. But there were other as-pects as well; for instance, strict or loose construction of the Constitution. Both forms of interpretation were religiously' neutral if not secular. Both likewise had ref-erence to the value of performance. But the way the lat-ter was realized in North and South led to tension, strife, and conflict. The situation afterwards was never the same again. There is something in this history that repeats itself. Clinging to tradition and the progress achieved in the past claims the allegiance of certain minds and hearts. It is likely true that this will always be the case. Still others are no less moved by the desire to strike out and move ahead in man's endless effort to better his~lot on this planet. Education offers another example. The value of a teacher's performance is judged in terms of pedagogical goals. Some maintain the educator aims at handing on truth, with the supposition that humanity has already achieved it in a way that can be improved but never fundamentally surpassed. By instinct and. reasoned con-viction others look for the teacher or professor to en-gage together with the student in a quest for truth. The assumption is that there is always more worth looking for and in comparison with which the knowledge at-tained is partial and incomplete. Now neither of these attitudes toward pedagogical goals is directly religious. Neither is exclusively demanded by Catholic faith. But the adoption of either as a value has religious implica-tions. An illustration may be of assistance. A question arises that is new and demands some sort of response or answer. Before doing anything else, the man or woman influenced by the value of preserving truth will attempt to solve the present case by recourse to precedents. Only too often this involves making the present in its unique-ness conform, whether it really does or not, with norms that were established earlier but without the slightest intention of binding all future generations. The value of preserving truth and past achievements translates itself religiously into that of fidelity. If the past has no claim to direct our own religious history, then there was no uniqueness in the event we call the Incarnation. Then God has not involved Himself irrevocably and finally in the history of man long before 'our day. When one re-gards0 education as a process of passing on certain truths, he is predisposed to be concerned religiously with the fidelity of God and man. A cultural value, namely pi:eserving the accomplishments of the past, can and does have profound religious consequences in thought and action. But education can also be conceived of as performance involving an unending quest [or truth. In this case, when one makes the transposition to a religious level, the goal is a search for the God who even after revelation in Jesus is still a mystery and to know whom is really to be yet groping even when one gropes with the aid of infallible direction. St. Paul offers a good example of this. In his Epistle to the Romans he spends three chapters (9-11) studying the will of God as concretely realized in the plan of salvation for Gentile and Jew. Interpreting the hist6ry of his own day as God's saving providence, he obviously presupposes that man can .know the divine will. And yet he concludes with a hymn proclaiming "that no one realiy knows the mind of the Lord. All subsequent Christian theology has been an at-tempt to grapple with the great mystery that God remains even after He reveals Himself to man. His ways are mysterious and yet sure, free and yet faithful. To em-phasize one over the Other leads to a lopsided theology. But why would one be inclined to do this? The reason is clear enough. There is a tendency to do so, one deriving from culture today especially. That culture is complex; it evokes diverse responses, some calculated to preserve the truth and goodness that have already been achieved and others aimed at improving both in the future. The result is cultural tension with theological consequences of the first order. When a question arises on a religious or doctrinal level, for those inclined to revere the past it is not a matter of being faithful pure and simple. There is a cultural fac-tor inclining them to their position. Others are more ready to strike out [or the new and unknown. Here it is the mystery of God and His dealings with man that will enthrall them. What has been said of Him in the past, even in infallible "utterances, is true enough but insuffi-cient. Their great law is: "Thou shalt not have strange Gods before me." They do not wish to worship idols rather than the true God; and it is no less idolatrous to worship one's image of God than it is to adore wood, or stone, or precious metals. Here again, however, the inclination is not purely religious; it is cultural. These are the men and women who in any event are more moved by a goal that is worthwhile and possible than by achievements that are already a fact but with clear defects. ,4pplication to Present Conditions It is in the realm of attitudes that one must look for evidence of culture or values held in esteem or disrepute. Our culture involves an ambivalence of attitudes with regard to the present in its relation to the future. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28° 1969 .!. ÷ Carl I. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Contemporary forms are generally considered inade-quate in the long run to meet humanity's needs of the near future. If one insists that this is not true in the religious sphere, youth is expected to assert that m6- rality and faith are somehow not part of the changing world. This is only too evidently false. It is also discourag-ing. If true, it would surely follow that from neither could man hope for much improvement. When the past is loved too much and present values, cherished too intensely, the inevitable result is that fewer and fewer young people will spend their lives ina performance directed to preserving it. This attitude has been wide-spread and is showing its effects. The cultural cry of more and more of the young is "On to the Future" by radical change of the present. Confronted with the evils man has injected into his world, they find an attractiveness in this value. That it conflicts with the former is obvious. That the result is confusion, tension, unease, unwillingness or inability to commit oneself fully to one or the other is not sur-prising. Neither value is directly religious. Each has religious implications and does sometimes presuppose a lessening or even loss of religious commitment. But to concentrate on this would be to try to cure a symptom. Our whole society knows it must change and change radically. And yet unless we learn from the past, from its successes as well as its failures, we shall grope with-out any guidelines or the slightest assurance that what we learn today will help tomorrow and not hinder, Man's leap forward came.from a spirit of adventure and a lack of willingness to be content with the status quo. This is true of man whether he professed a religion or not. Youth today knows it. They look for a willingness to take this risk in religion and its leaders. But they also realize that man's advance has been accompanied by a multiplication of evils in the form of wars, famine, and untold human suffering. It was paid for in the form of untold labor and often shortened life spans "of pioneers. Today many of them are asking whether progress at such a price and with such attendant evils is worth it after all. It is a question of values and attitudes. Not a few seem to choose neither content-ment with the past nor striving to improve the future, at least not by joining existing organizations to achieve this. In the sense of the two alternatives, they seem to be opting out as close to altogether as is possible. Among their eiders, those who cling to the past do so not wholly because of faith, and those who strive to ob-tain the improvement of the future surely are not so motivated solely because of basic religious conviction or its lack. It is in both cases a cultural response elicited by the world in which they live. To be cautious is a value; to be adventuresome no less so. Neither in itself is reli-gious. Those inclined to esteem the former expect it most of all in religion; those who prefer the latter look for it above all in the area of faith and faith-inspired life. There is a crisis all right, but one stemming fi:om a com-plex culture or set of opposing values, each of which has something to be said for it. How easy it would all be if it were otherwise. It would be a mistake to overlook this when considering the situation of young men and women choosing or living out a religious vocation. Maximum E~ciency versus Involvement There is another pair of values related to achievement. Is the latter the work of one or many? Some are loners and find it hard to be any other way. But today it is extremely difficult to stand alone in achievement. The individual source of inspiration, one overseer or director iqith the power to make decisions--this leads at times to unquestionably greater efficiency and permits the de-termination of responsible agents in various fields. For some this is still a most desirable good. Society needs the great man as leader; the Church, the truly independent bishop and pope. But for others worthwhile goals are achieved only in the close cooperation of many laboring in a basically similar frame of mind despite difficulties. This implies the initiative not only of the leader but of many cooperating and participating as fully as possible in the endeavor. Neither attitude is basically religious. This is again witnessed in the pedagogical order. Why do so many professors today have such trouble with classes when they employ the lecture system? The latter is surely not something religious or irreligious. Nor is it that professors lecture without the ability of their predecessors. And yet in ever increasing numbers, courses based solely on this method are being phased out be-cause they are not being heard or listened to. The teacher who simply lectures today has to be a lot better than one who did the same fifty years ago just to accomplish as much. The reason is simple. To such an approach there is opposition that is neither religious nor irreligious but rather cultural. It arises from the conviction that truth and other values are to be sought not solely or primarily through the energy of one man directing the receptivity of others but through the combined efforts of many. The planning of seminary curricula is taking note of this. So must the charting of course for a parish or diocese if they are to achieve their respective goals. To think that papal primacy, episcopal collegiality, or lay initiative will not be affected by this cultural factor is disastrous, especially in dealing with prospective vocations. If this ÷ ÷ ÷ Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ].9~9 Cad ]. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]94 is obviously hard for some to accept, it is important nonetheless. Achievements of the Paso Some men and women tend to concentrate on the good that has already been attained and are pleased with past efforts as well as optimistic about the state of the union, whatever union may be involved. Others view past achievements with guarded reserve or more often criti-cism, positive or negative. These are human attitudes not particularly connected with religion more than with politics or economics. But they do affect the way one re-gards formulations of Christian faith. Have the conciliar determinations helped or are they, though true, in their own way very limited? As regards present institutions, few adamantly deny they have accomplished some, indeed tremendous good. But what of the defects? They are pres-ent as well. Revelation does not direct attention to either exclusively. The way one evaluates other things will have a great deal of influence here. But that is clearly in the realm of rational attitudes more or less con-sciously adopted; namely, culture and not religion di-rectly as such. Analysis or Comprehensive View Is it the big picture or the details that are most im-portant? There is no divine law answering this. In terms of values, is it generality and simplicity in viewing a phenomenon as a whole or rather attention to its com-plexity that matters? Emphasis on the latter assures that whatever is said or decided today may well have to be modified tomorrow. Decisions taken may have to be reconsidered or retracted. Contrariwise one may aim at certain values that at least as goals do not change but are ever more closely approximated. The affective con-sequences of both approaches are clear enough. Com-mitments in the one frame of reference can hardly be irrevocable; in the other they can surely be so. On a practical religious level, are all decisions subject to re-call at will, for example, to the existence of a God, an after-life, the imperative of working to make life better [or others? Or are they simply the best one can give here and now? It is clear that conflicting cultural values have in this instance created tension in human life, not least of all in its religious sphere. Certainty and Conjecture To continue, is certainty a value above others, or is statistical probability all man can ~chieve in most in-stances? But certainty is popularly connected with hope.-- one does not hope unless convinced there is a good chance o~ getting or doing or being what is hoped for. And yet probability is likewise connected with hope; one does not hope for what is already a sure thing, somethingpr~deter-mined and open in no way to chance. To what does one aspire, the certain or the probable?. The Marxist experiences this. Should he hope for the classless society or not? If he does not because he feels that it is certain to come about, lethargy.will likely result. But if its appearance is not inevitable, his efforts alter all may be futile, all of which need not but may lead to despair. As to the Christian, must he hope that the divine kingdom come? If its advent cannot be frus-trated, what need to hope; if otherwise,, why hope when alter all sheer chance may reign supreme?. Antithetical Ideals I have tried to indicate certain human values in two connected sets. They deal with the practical, .the order o~ doing and achievement. Preservation of the past through the work of the leader who sees and inspires others to grasp the whole picture wi.th optimism c6upled with caution and deliberate pace regarding change--this is one set. And yet there is another in competition: the improvement o~ the future through the.cooperation o[ many in thought, action, and suffering, with attention to the manifold of details accompanied with criticism of past failures and a sense of urgency for future reme-dies. These interconnected values art both vying for man's acceptance at the present time. He has opted for neither. Confronted by them both, he is very often at a loss; now this and now that seems better. They affect the very depth of his being and yet are religious only in the sense of having to do with the meaning of life, a mean-ing he has to choose freely. Still his relations with or-ganized religion cannot but be affected by this tension, unrest, and hesitancy. Because religion is obviously con-nected with these values though by no means identical with them, he is probably as interested as at any time in his history with religion as an academic discipline but as disinclined as never before to see any religious organi-zation as offering a permanent way of life for himself. This has affected the attitude o~ many toward religious vocations in particular. In my opinion it justifies the proposition that the so-called vocation crisis is only indirectly a crisis of faith and directly one of culture. Religious Ministry in the Overlap More is called for today than detached analysis in this area. This is especially true in the case of those who are convinced that an increase in the number of religious vocations is o~ great importance for the Church and the 4- .4- 4- Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 195 rest of humanity. As a result it may not be out of place to offer a number of suggestions. They will deal with atti-tudes that can be fostered with the aim of encouraging priestly and religious vocations during the period of the cultural overlap. First of all, in both of the competing sets of values, practical certainty is present and operative. The certainty of conviction makes men cling to the past; it drives others to strive for the future. This is certainty at least strong enough to be the guiding rationale and emo-tional factor for living a whole li~e. Too much certainty with regard to the past was an error. A great price has been paid for it. Today, youth is actually afraid of being certain and yet often paralyzed because uncertain. The man who strives for change is doing so only because of a practical conviction that striving is important, worth-while, possible, and not futile. In this sense, certainty is no more missing in him than in' his counterpart. If this impression can be conveyed to youth, the certainty of basic truths of faith will be less repellent. Secondly, another value found in both sets is persever-ance. It is because of a deep-rooted conviction that does not change that the men of science change hypotheses. A religious conviction once thought over and adopted need not shut a man off Lrom the way other men adopt in living. It should not make him closed. Indeed he can be open precisely because he has made a fundamental decision. No one is more closed than he who has made no decision at all regarding the meaning of life. Fre-quently such a man's desire to be open precludes his doing anything of lasting significance. To be con-temporary is not to be a Hamlet. To be ever ready to learn more regarding life's meaning is not to be ready to change one's mind because of simple discouragement or the realization that difficulties will in all likelihood never be completely removed. The applicability of this lesson to the realm of priestly and religious vocations is obvious. It will not, however, be grasped unless one re-calls that these are matters not merely of faith and revela-tion but also of culture. Carl 1. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i JOSEPH E. MULLIGAN, s.J. The Religious Dimension of Human Love The current experimentation with various styles of religiou~ dress is certainly a welcome development in the post-conciliar Church. It is becoming clear to Cath-olics and non-Catholics alike that today's sister is very much a woman of the twentieth century, a woman con-secrated to God and united with Christ and at the very same time intensely concerned about the joys and problems, successes and failures of the present world. She is sensitive to the needs of modern men and women, open to new trends in human thought'(such as personal-ism and Christian existentialism)~ efficient in her use of modern means of serving humanity, and orientated to the near and distant future in her apostoli.c thinking. Au courant styles of religious dress do not insure that all this will be true of every sister who dons the new garb, but at the very least it can be said that the new fashions do not militate against the entirely proper "new image" now being created by today's sisters both young and old. Updated religious habits may even foster an interior aggiornamento where it is lacking or lagging; and where the Spirit has already begun to "renew the face of the earth" so that the love enkindled by Him can shine forth for all to see, the sister will welcome the external change as a true sign of the interior renewal which is under way. While the new fashions serve this purpose of bringing today's sister visibly into the twentieth century, they also serve to bring out the distinctly feminine quality of the Christian charity which fills her heart and inspires her life of service. This important point is receiving its due attention by psychologists, counselors, and theologians; here we need only mention the fact that the changes in the dress o[ religious women are closely associated with the emergence, in their own consciousness and in that of all the world, of their God-given and God-beloved ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Mulligan, &J., is a member of Bellarmine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 6O542. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Mulligan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 femininity. How important it is that the feminine, ma-ternal dimension of the love of God, whom we always address as Father and whom we almost always think of in masculine terms, be incarnated and effectively com-municated to the human family. In this connection we readily recognize (it is not a question of "admitting," as if grudgingly) the truth of a point suggested by a famous psychologist: that in Christian piety a tender devotion to Mary fulfills a profound need of the human heart and soul, namely, to relate to a heavenly Mother. It is true, of course, that God the Father and Jesus Christ the Son manifest many of the qualities ordinarily associated with human mother-hood: tenderness, mercy, compassion, and above all, love which is given profusely without demanding a com-mensurate response. But it is Mary who, in the religious consciousness of the faithful, is the Mother par excellence, showering upon her children her maternal love and re-ceiving from them, often though not always, their love and trust in return. The religious woman has a position in the divine economy of salvation analogous to that of Mary. In the eminently feminine charity shown by the religious teacher, nurse, home missionary, and others, the human family can see and feel the maternal qualities of the boundless love of God for them. The sister can bring this love directly into the classroom, hospital, or home--and in this the sister can be more effective than Mary in com-municating the love of God to men. For Mary is present to her children only in times of prayer, and the experi-ence of her love requires faith; the sister can be present to the human family in all situations of life and in very concrete ways which are perfectly visible to "natural" eyes. Adaptations in dress, then, are worthwhile and valu-able in at least these two important respects: in placing sisters visibly in the midst of the twentieth century and in accentuating the distinctly feminine characteristics of their love and service to mankind. In most instances the adaptation of which we are speaking has taken the form of a reduction or lightening of the habit to the extent that some sisters have only a 'veil of some sort (or even less) as the external symbol of 'their consecration to God and their special union with Christ. This trend is entirely praiseworthy, as we have stated above. How-ever, the question soon arises about the necessity of re-taining any distinctive signs. Should. the nursing sister simply wear the same uni-form as that of her colleagues in the profession? Should the teaching sister wear a variety of styles readily oh, tainable at the downtown department store? Should the i home missionary don a smart and comfortable business woman's suit? In the opinion of this male observer, the answer is a qualified "no." This is undoubtedly the opin-ion of the vast majority of sisters: there is deep value in the external symbols of one's religious profession. Pre-cisely what forms these symbols should take in order that they be appropriate for our modern age'is a matter which will have to be handled largely through experi-mentation; developments to date have been in the right direction, but certainly not definitive (perhaps we should expect and accept constant adaptation in this matter, as in the liturgy). Though all agree on the necessity of retaining symbols, be they ever so "modernized," it may prove worthwhile to review one of the most substantial reasons for our insistence upon retaining externals of some sort. To this writer, one of the most cogent "arguments" for the existence and activity of God is the astounding love which breaks out (who can say how often?) in this world of ours. This love can be "astounding" even if it be only a kind word at the right time, a friendly "hello" offered in passing, or a thoughtful gesture only slightly out of the ordinary. The more dramatic or "heroic" act of love--such as the total personal commitment of marriage or of the religious life--is all the more revela-tory of the power of God operative in the hearts of men. Experience teaches us that there is something wonder-ful in a person who has risen above the childish and petty egocentrism which in various forms infects hu-manity. And in divine revelation we have a clear state-ment of the truth to which experience opens us: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Though this writer finds this train of thought most interesting and helpful, many in our modern world find it something less than immediately exciting. The con-nection between human love at its best and the power of God very often goes unnoticed. Deep, strong love (in many cases of a calibre worthy of imitation by many a nominal Christian) abounds in the heart and soul of a great number of men who consider themselves "atheists" or "agnostics" or "secular humanists" but who probably qualify as "anonymous Christians." We have good reasons as well as strong inclinations to consider these noble hu-man persons as brothers of Christ and sons of God, heirs of the same eternal life which we Christians hope to at-tain (see Mt 95:31--45). The modern man who is truly Christlike in his charity is surely a brother of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is indeed the Spirit of Love. Such a person need only be brought to an explicit awareness of his true position before God. Whether this Human Love VOLUME 28, 1969 199 J. E. Mulligan, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O0 exp1icitation is absolutely necessary for salvation, is a theological question which we cannot take up here; that it is.desirable and beneficial for the person, that it is the will of God, and that it is the proper task of the mission-ary Church cannot be doubted. How then is the connection between great human love and the power of God to be drawn clearly in the minds of men? How will men of good will come to real-ize their true religious identity? Surely this wonderful moment of recognition can follow immediately upon a strong experience of being loved with a love surpassing the powers of our wounded human nature. Who can know the unsearchable ways of God, the ways in which He can make His presence known in the hearts of men? What we can know, however, is that God has estab-lished in His Church certain "ordinary" ways by which men should be able to see the connection of which we are speaking, that is, the religious context of all genuine human love. The liturgy, for instance, consists basically of ritual acts of human love, no less authentic for being ritual, set in an abundantly sacred context; the religious life as a visible institution is meant also to be a sign Of the intimate link between love and Love. The woman who loves her neighbor with a striking love and who clearly derives the sustenance for this extraordinary love from her union with God stands as a powerful sign of the connection with which we are concerned. The religious proclaims to the world that love, and especially continuing growth in love, depends upon our cooperation with the Spirit of Love whom Jesus Christ pours forth upon humanity, thereby accom-plishing the work of redemption. If this proclamation is to be effective, however, two elements must be safe-guarded and nurtured: the fraternal love must be sincere and genuine, or else it will strike no one and will fail to touch off the wonder which points to God; secondly, the person showing this genuine love must also show some clear sign of her relationship with God, or else her love will be viewed as nothing more than the highest flowering o[ the human spirit. A true combination of both these elements can be nothing short of overwhelming. The student will be deeply struck one day, perhaps far in the future, by the inestimable service given him by the sister in the seventh grade; and he will ask him-self whether her union with God, somehow manifest, might have had anything to do with her capacity to love so generously and so constantly. The patient in the hospital will find kindness and competent care in the person of the nursing sister at a time when he is most in need of these precious gifts; he will undoubtedly find himself wondering whether her slightly distinctive uni- form may signify a Power greater than herself gently assisting her human heart. The family in Appalachia or in one of our big city ghettoes, olSpressed and exploited by an unconcerned affluent society, will be touched by the "no strings attached" help given by the visiting sister; the family will see that this remarkable woman is in love with both God and them at the same time, as if the one love is identical with the other. This, then, is one reason (to this writer the most im-portant and most meaningful) for retaining some form of distinctive religious dress. By all means, let sisters continue to experiment with new styles in an attempt to find more appropriate twentieth century symbols of religious profession. Also, let sisters continue to try on new and appropriate fashions which will not bushel-basket that femininity which is absolutely essential for incarnating the love of God in all its breadth and beauty. However, for the reason which we have suggested in the latter part of this article and for other reasons which may be equally cogent, let us not throw out the baby (appropriate and necessary symbolism) with the bath (outmoded and "sexuality neutralizing" costumes). The religious must be in tune with the times, di.stinctly masculine or feminine, a living proof of the connection between true human love and the Spirit of Love. 4, VOLUME.28, 1969 201 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Biblical Concept of Virginal Love Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at Russell College; 2300 Adeline Drive; Burlingame, Cali-fornia 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 Half an eye trained on recent ,religious thin.king in-forms one that a great deal of literature has appeared in the last decade on the psychology of loving in the Chris: tian context. For the most part this has been a praise-worthy effort to broaden the place and sharpen the orientation of human love within the ecclesial commu-nity; yet one still frequently finds considerable diver-gence of view among, religious men and women as to how the generally agreed upon norms are to be prac-ticed in concrete situations. We wish in this essay not simply to tread over worn terrain but to suggest some specifics, specifics stemming from Scripture and virgin-ity. We primarily envision religious women, although with some modifications what we say concerns men as well. Philosophical Roots Even though our main intent is Biblical and practical, we may preface our discussion with several philosophical considerations. In the long run practical solutions to knotty problems are no better than their (often merely assumed and unexpressed) theoretical substructure. At the same time speculation must always be in touch with experience, with concrete, here and now reality. Because she is a person, a human person, a feminine human person, the sister must love warmly. Her love must appear, be visible. Why? Because virginal love is incarnated, not angelic. It is human and a witness to humans. For a reason we shall point out later this is to say that it is affectionate. But because we are at the moment dealing with philosophy, not theology, we may leave the witness aside. Virginal love is incarnated and therefore affectionate because it is human love--steeped in supernatural moti-vation, of course, but still human. In fact, it cannot be anything else but' human. No being can act otherwise than as it is. We never expect a duck to perform as a camel. A woman can love only as a woman, a human being ot the feminine sex. Now human nature is in-carnated spirit, a dual reality, material-spiritual. Man is not monistic. Merleau-Ponty's negation ot a fundamental dualism in man is an oversimplification of human exist-ence. Man is not merely a body-subject, an I-body. The profound dualism in his sense-intellect knowing, to cite one example, is an irreducible pluralism that renders a human monism an inadequate explanation of available evidence. Human love, therefore, must also be dual,, it it is to be tully human and not something else. Like its source, the person, man's love must be rooted in spirit but shown through matter, conceived in soul but en-fleshed in body. Affectionate love is simply love incar-nated. It is a love that appears. One need not syllogize to its existence. As a daughter of Eve the religious woman does not loveproperly and fully until she loves affectionately. She is no exception to the roots of reality, no metaphysical oddity. She loves as she is. There is yet another reason why the virgin's love for 1hen is warm, composite, incarnated. It is a reason rooted in the deepest center of her being. She is good, a person good, and goodness tends to pour itself out. She is a social good, so she must pour herself out into others and receive these others back into herself. A woman (and a man, too, but not quite so pronouncedly) is never satis-fied until she loves. She cannot be satisfied unless she loves, for until she loves incarnatedly she is violating a law of being: goodness goes out; person goodness loves persons and shows it. This ontological factor works in the opposite direction as well. Because she is good and beautiful, the sister re-quires that her goodness and beauty be acknowledged, recognized in a way she can see and experience. To say this psychologically, she needs a strong self image, a self image she can derive only from others, from their appreciation and shown love. This is to say once again that deeply rooted in her human make-up is a need to receive affection. What we are implying, then, is that the religious woman's consecration does not exempt her from the laws of human nature or from the metaphysical structure ot the real. Scriptural Roots But still more must be said. There are supernatural reasons as well as natural ones tot saying that religious are to love warmly. Christian love is human love. It must therefore be affectionate. Shakespeare was pointing in the right direction when he observed that "they do Yirginal Love VOLUME ~'8, 1969 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 not love that do not show their love." x Christ himself was affectionate. He embraced children for no other verifiable reason than to love warmly and to show it. He "looked with love" on the rich young man, which is nothing other than to gaze affectionately. He wept at Lazarus' tomb, a remarkable display of feeling in a man. He who could fearlessly castigate the Pharisees could also correct Martha tenderly by repeating her name twice as a preface to his admonition. The letters of Paul, Peter, and John are replete with expressions of endearment and concern. Where could these originally rough men have learned this Christian way of loving if not from Christ? The Master had already made it clear that a Christian ¯ can be detected in the world by his observable love. Men are to see how we love, be struck by it, and con-clude from this sight who we are.2 Affectionate love can be seen. Cold or neutral love may not be noticed even when it is proved by deed., witness the merely efficient nurse. In any event merely willed love does not draw men as the Christian is to draw them. If the reli-gious is a gospel woman, she is an affectionate woman. She may be nothing else. Practical Implications So much for basic principles. They are plain, hardly subject to hot dispute. Not so, however, with concrete situations, problems, objections. Even a casual acquaint-ance with convent life makes clear that the whole area of close love relationships has been, and still often enough remains, subject to misunderstanding, to excess, to de-fect. One underestimates the complexities and depths of human nature if he believes that in this matter ~pecifics are as easy to handle as generalities. Because we think we recognize the difficulties inherent in our subject, our intent here is modest. We wish to propose some real questions and to suggest, for whatever value they may have, some honest answers. - How does a consecrated woman show a warm love in a manner appropriate to her state? Our first reaction to this question is to note that ordinarily a woman is a better judge of feminine warmth than a man is. And if she happens to be at the same time a holy woman, she knows by a kind of instinct how to love rightly. Yet a man may presume to suggest a few guides. Obviously enough, marks of affection vary greatly with the situa-tion of the recipient. A sister rightly embraces a first-grade boy who has fallen down the staircase, but she is The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 1, Scene 2. Jn 13:M-5. likely to show her concern in another manner toward a twelfth-grader beset with a teenage problem. The New Testament offers many examples of what a holy, adult affection is like. There is the cordial, warm greeting,8 the holy kiss,4 the affectionate embrace,~ the loving gaze,n a warmth of manner in speech,r a kindly gentleness in the face of a brother's faults,s a tenderness and love in correcting others,9 a deep interest in the in-dividual and his concerns,1° an openness to all,ix a com-forting of those in trial and sorrowA~ Peter sums it all up in saying that our love is to be sincere and intense.~3 A prayerful study of these texts and many others like them will disclose to mogt of us that we have a long way to go before we love as Christians are supposed to love. Because the virgin is a model of evangelical life, she may not be anything but affectionate. The program of how this is to be done is plain enough in the Gosp.els and Epistles. She will find its implementation a lifetime task. She ma~ find it helpful to, work at this task in her par-ticular examen, taking as her specific guides one Scrip-tural theme or text at a time. Doing this she cannot help becoming a lovable woman. Is there not danger to chastity in this warm love? Yes, of course, there is danger, just as there is danger in the pursuance of any good, even the spiritual goods of the intellect. But one may not always solve "excess prob-lems" by removing the possibility of excess through a radical uprooting of the good. When the Master re-flected on the risk of worldliness in His apostles, He did not meet the problem by shutting off the possibility. Rather He explicity declared that they were to remain in the dangerous situation, in the world, but were to be kept free from being tainted by it.14 It is interesting, too, ~hat nowhere (as far as we can find) does the New Testa-ment indicate a concern about the dangers found in a holy affection. Perhaps the reason is that the genuine SRom 1:7; 16:3-16; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:21-3; Col 4:7-18. ~Lk 15:20; Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 16:20; 2 Cor 13:12; 1 Th 5:26; I Pt 4:14. ~ Mk 10:16; Acts 20:37-8. ~ Mk 10:21. ~Rom I:11; 1 Cor 4:17; 15:58; 16:24; 2 Cor 7:~,I~; 10:I; Phil 1:7-8; 4:1; 1 Th 2:7-8,20; ~:1-7; 1 Tm 1:2; 1 Jn 2:1,7,12,14,18,28; ~ Jn 1,5,11; Jude ~,20. s Eph 4:2,~2; 2 Tim 2:24-5; 1 Pt 3:8-9. ~ Lk 10:41; 1 Cor 4:14; 2 Cor 2:4-8; Gal 6:1; Col ~:12-~. xo 1 Cor 12:26; 2 Cor 12:14-5; Phil 2:17-8; 1 Th 2:11. ~x 2 Cor 6:11-3. ~2 Cor 1:3-4; 7:6-7; 1~:11; £ph 6:22; Col 2:1-2; 1 Th 5:11; 2 Tim 1:16; Phlm 20. xs I Pt 1:22. :~Jn 17:14-7: "They are not oI the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou take them out of the world, but that thou keep them ~rom evil." ¥irglnal Love VOLUME 28, 1969 205 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 man of God and the holy virgin know plainly enough-- because their honesty bares the deceitful motive--why really they are affectionate and how their love is ap-propriately shown. Warm affection is risky for the fool-ish virgin, the worldly virgin, but not for the wise and prayerful one. On the contrary, for the latter this kind of sisterly love protects and fosters her dedicated chastity: "Everyone should remember--superiors especially--that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members." ~g If a sister is a woman of deep contemplative prayer, we need have little fear that her warm love for others will pose any proximate danger to her purity or to theirs. If she is not a prayerful woman, the opposite may well be the case. May a sister [oster a close [riendship with a priest or layman? At the outset of this article we already im-plied our affirmative reaction to this question. The ex-ample of Christ's love for Martha and Mary and that of the saints for persons of the opposite sex (for example, Teresa and Gratian, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal) demand this affirmative response. And so does com-mon sense. Sexual love neither is co-terminous with geni-tal- sexual love nor requires it. The sexes are comple-mentary not only on the physical level but also on the emotional, intellectual, volitional, and supernatural lev-els. an The fact that the consecrated woman benefits from masculine influences (such as teaching, spiritual direc-tion) in her formation (and do not men profit £rom feminine influences in theirs?) suggests that she may grow as a religious woman through friendship with a man. Now all of this is being said with increasing frequency both in print and in private conference. But something else has also to be said. And it is rarely said. That this kind of close friendship be advisable demands conditions and qualifications. Not any apparently good male-female relationship may be said to correspond to that of Teresa and Gratian or Francis and Jane. We have already in-dicated what some of these qualifications are. Most of us would agree that a sister should show a sincere warmth toward all men and women, but we are not agreed as to what overdemonstrativeness may be. For our part we cannot share the view that embracing is a suitable sign of affection between religious persons of the opposite sexes. The current multiplication of tragedy that scan-dalizes the faithful and ruins consecrated lives plainly ~ Vatican II, Decree on Religious LiIe, n. 12. ~ See Chapter 3 of von Hildebrand's Man and Woman for a help-ful explanation of this complementarity. shows how naive this view really is. Some people learn only by personal disaster that they are like the rest of men. A propensity toward physical demonstrativeness suggests strongly that the friendship is not on the high-est supernatural level, that it is not thoroughly immersed in God, in a mutually deep prayer life. Unreasonably frequent or protracted conversations and deliberate ro-mantic daydreaming likewise cause one to wonder whether there is question of the love of the Holy Spirit. The virgin is concerned with the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit and that she may .pray without distraction. In our view that priest or sister ~s naive who feels that long and frequent visits, kissing and embracing are conductive to the love of the Chris-tian virgin. If this is what "the third way" means, there is no third way. Even aside from the obvious.question of chastity, one may wonder regarding this type of relation-ship how intently the religious can be concerned with the things of the Lord, how deeply she can be committed to her life of contemplation and apostolic action. From the positive point of view a sister may rest as-sured that her love is fully virginal if the thought of the other suggests to her mind the thought of God; if the relationship really helps her to a deeper prayer life, a perfect observance of her rule, an evangelical spirit of detachment, a more profound loyalty to her own vir-ginal vocation and to the members of her own commu-nity, a ~niversal warmth toward others; if their con-versation or correspondence is concerned mainly with God and His affairs. If these norms for virginal love are correct, one may speculate that this sort of friendship is not at all as common as may be supposed. Is affectionate love compatible with the detachment demanded by the New Testament? Twenty years ago many of us would have returned an unhesitatingly nega; tive answer to this question or we would have at least felt inclined to such an answer. Today we more easily understand that warm love and evangelical detachment are reconcilable, although not too many are able to bar. monize new psychology with old spirituality. The prob-lem here, of course, is not a clash between oldness and newness but between sound psychology and twisted spir-ituality. Both affectionate love and gospel austerity are as valid today as they ever were, for the New Testament plainly teaches both of them over and over again. The simplistic mind is uncomfortable with complex dualities and it seeks to resolve a paradox by denying one pole of it. Two decades ago it was common to deny that warmly shown love was proper in a religious, while today it is popular to say that detachment is passd. Yet the New Testament teaches both the .one and the ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal VOLUME 28~ 1969' " ÷ ÷ Thomas l~bay REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS 208 other. It is the same Christ who demands that we re-nounce all things (Lk 14:33) and who embraces children warmly (Mk 10:16). The same John teaches that we must die like grain buried in the ground (Jn 12:24-5) and yet deals with the recipient~ of his first letter with remark-able terms of endearment (1 Jn 2, passim). The first letter of Peter warns against "selfish passions" (1 Pt 2:11), encourages a joy in sufferings (4:12-3) and at the same time urges intense brotherly love shown with a "kiss of love" (1:22; 5:14). The same Paul who cautions against superfluities and himself has nothing (1 Tim 6:7-8; 2 Cor 6:10) also loves his Christians with the warmth and tenderness of a deeply affectionate father (passim). Nowhere in the new revelation do we read the least hint of a clash. Why? Simply because affectionate love is by no means the same as selfish love. On the contrary, it is often a crucifying love. Showing affection to an attractive person is a delight, to a dull or cold individual it is a thorn. Moreover--and this is important and not always under-stood-- we should not see a dichotomy between loving God wholly and our neighbor warmly. Even less should we suppose an opposition. Precisely because Christian love is both one and incarnated but with several objects (God, ourselves, angels, neighbor), it must be warmly shown. This is why St. Paul looked upon the Romans as "God's beloved" (1:7). Because they were God's dear ones, they necessarily became Paul's dear ones in a virile yet intimate sense. Unshown love is a partial self-contradiction. We find this same warm affection in the most austere and detached of God's saints, for they knew what affectionate love and genuine detachment really mean. They did not live by caricature. One need only read the correspondence of an Augustine, a John Chrys-ostom, a Teresa of Avila, a Francis de Sales to see what we mean, Even John of the Cross (andwho could be remotely tempted to conceive him as lacking in detach-ment?), a man short on words but long on deeds, is said to have walked 30 or 40 miles barefooted to visit his warmly loved nuns at Beas. What we are saying, of course, is by no means opposed to the traditional detach-ment doctrine of these same saints. There is a certain in-tellectual snobbery implied in the suggestion one hears today that the goodness and value of love between the sexes, even between religious, is quite a new discovery unknown to our elders in the faith. And there is no little theological inadequacy implied in thinking that this kind of love somehow rules out an integral evangel-ical asceticism. How does One become affectionate? This apparently naive question is really a worthwhile question, one that is susceptible of several interpretations: How does a sister acquire a warm manner toward unattractive personali-ties? How does one love affectionately who feels no warmth toward anyone? How does a person deepen a warm manner she already possesses to some extent, yet not sufficiently? We shall take up each problem in turn. First, how can a sister who does love some people warmly acquire a warmth toward others whom she finds unappealing? If a woman (or man) can love some per-sons warmly and deeply, her problem is motivational, not psychological, when she is cold toward others. Ba-sically she is capable of full human love, since as a matter of fact she does love humanly the few people that appeal to her. But she does not see that the others are also lova-ble and so she is not at all inclined to go out toward them. She needs to develop a largeness of heart, an op-timism of viewpoint that searches out beauty and good-ness, the largeness and optimism of St, Paul who saw enough beauty and goodness in his new (but far from perfect) Christians that he could view them as "God's beloved." If God loves a man, that man must somehow be lovable. It is our task to find out how. The warmth is then easier to come by. Yet it is not come. by without a concomitant spirit of sacrifice. If affection is to be shown toall men and not only to a select few,~the cross of self-denial must indeed be taken up daily. Otherwise we can-not be disciples, if the mark of a disciple is a love men can see and experience. A more perplexing problem (for the person who ex-periences it) is a total lack of affectionate feeling toward others. The problem is not only perplexing; it is likely to be both deep and of long standing. Its roots go back in most cases to an early home life in which little warm love was shown. Though the adult devoid of affection-ate feelings may say she needs neither manifestations of love from others nor her own showing of it to them, she is nevertheless a psychologically starved person. She may not understand what has happened to her, but she has built walls about her person. She is encapsuled. She is dying a death. She is in a state of psychological famine, dying of lovelessness. What can be done for this person who does not know how to love humanly and in a feminine manner? She may need professional therapy. She surely" needs a friend, a close friend. She needs understanding and ac-ceptance. She needs to learn that she is worthwhile, lovable. When she is accepted, understood, loved suffi-ciently, she will slowly become capable of returning love, of warming up to others. But the process is slow. All concerned with her problem need patience, herself included. + + + VOLUME 28, 1969 209 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 We may pause here to insist that the deeply felt need (even in a sister) to love and to be loved is no imperfec-tion. On the contrary, the deeper the need, the nobler the woman. It is the person who feels no need that is ill, for she is affectionately numb. On the physical level loss of appetite indicates illness, while hunger points to health and the consumption of vital energy. So also a hunger for love, real love, points toward psychological well-being, for deeply hidden in the recesses of the hu-man person is .the ontological clamor that goodness and beauty be recognized by another's love. Our final question: how does a religious who can and does love warmly develop and deepen her capacity for virginal affection? She must be herself, of course. She must grow normally as a woman with all the inner richness this implies. Genuine love is rooted. It cannot grow from the surface, from an inner vacuum. From the point of view of how this love is to be manifested the sister learns how a Christian virgin loves warmly by ob-serving those among her companions who do know how. Yet affection is not as easily taught as table manners. There is a universality about its signs, but there is also the uniquencess of the individual, and what is more unique than personal love? Still, a sister should be able to learn from the more finely developed among her companions how the consecrated woman shows her love for men. She learns, too, from her inborn reactions toward the opposite sex. Probably one reason why God made the sexes mutually attractive is that men and women learn from mutual relations how to show concern, warmth, cordiality toward members of their own sex. A normal, woman finds that affability toward men comes more naturally and easily than toward women. (And this is surely true also in the case of the man toward women.) Even though she does not show marks of love toward other women in exactly the same ways as toward men, she should learn much from the latter expe.riences, stemming as they do from her inborn feminine inclina-tion. Heterosexual love (which is not, of course, co-ter-ruinous with genital-sexual love), we may then say, is a partial model of human love in general. It is therefore a model for the virgin also, for she remains a sexual being with all the qualities and beauties this implies. The sister further develops her affectionate manner by a careful and prayerful contemplation of the gospel. After she has diligently studied her Christ embracing children for no other reason but to show warmth in His love, "looking with love" (a mysterious phrase) on a rich youth, correcting Martha in so gentle and tender a man-ner, weeping at Lazarus' tomb, she turns for further guidance to John, Peter, and especially to Paul. The letters of these virile (and before their conversion, crude) men are replete with examples of how to show affection in an adult manner. As an evangelical woman the sister should be filled with their spirit and practice. The final source from which the religious learns to love warmly: contemplation, deep contemplation, es-pecially infused contemplation. It is no accident that St. Paul reminds his Thessalonians that they "have learned from God to love one another" (1 Th 4:9). There is no better teacher of warmth and tenderness than He who could utter the divine verse recorded by Luke: "While he [a sinner] was still a long way off, his hther saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly" (Jerusalem Bible). One cannot get more affectionate than this. In the profound center of her own being where Love is more present to her womanly heart than she herself is the sister can find out how to be a loving woman. Though her indwelling Beloved teaches without words, He pours out from her deepest center the very love by Which she loves Him and others. Through the tenderness of His inner infusions she tastes and sees how good He is. She learns from experience that those who seek the Lord want for no good thing. Her good is to take refuge in the Lord she bears in her bosom and from Him she discovers what tenderness is like. So true is it that the contemplative learns from her inabiding Beloved how to be a lover herself, that we would suspect as inauthentic any alleged contemplation that is not accompanied by a warm love for others, or, at the very least, by a sincere, persevering effort in that direction. Contemplation cannot be walled in, aseptic, sterile. By its own inner dynamism, a vertical and horizontal en. ergy, it must burst out into love for men. Together with the instruction of Sacred Scripture and the love flowing out of the sacraments contemplation is the source of deep human love. All of which is to say that the sister must be a Scriptural woman, an ecclesia1 woman, a contemplative woman, if she is going to be a profoundly loving woman. 4. 4. VOLUME 28, 1969 PLACID STROIK, O.F.M. Sanctification and Conquest in the World With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land that we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own (JFK's Inaugural Address, January 1961). Once active faith in God's presence in the world takes hold of a man it begins to give direction to his actions. Not only does God's work really become his own, but also his work becomes the work of God. It is also a fact of experience that as things are it is impossible [or God to Work in this world without us. Very often we speak of God's great gifts to us "and all His marvelous works for us. At the same time we fail to realize the vast interplay and amount of work God has put into our hands to bring these gifts and works to their full development. Just as it is theologically incor-rect and misleading to expect salvation and sanctifica-tion through purely human effort, so also it is misleading to expect salvation even as a gift to come to us without. our effort of respgnse and acceptanc.e of this gift. It is much worse and also very unchristian to think that our faith with its heavy stress on another world and on be-coming holy has somehow absolved us from effort in building this world. ÷ Reconciling Upward and Forward ElYorts Pladd Stroik, O.F.M., is a mem-ber o[ the Francis. can Friars; Pulaski, Wisconsin 54162., ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 212 Historically it has always been a problem for followers of Christ to somehow bring together the vertical upward effort of sanctification and the horizontal forward effort of human progress and the conquest of the world. Over and over again the questions have been asked: Are they in opposition to each other? Is one just an acciden-tal backdrop to the other? Is there any inner connection between the two? In our present day these questions are extremely fundamental and are at the basis for much of the rethinking and turmoil going on in our religious doctrines and practices. Theologians as well as scientists are fast becoming aware of man's ability in the conquest of nature, the wor!d, and human life itself. This is beginning to put traditional religious ideas out of business. At one time, God, faith, the supernatural, and grace explained a lot of what happens around us. But now, man seems to get more answers and assurance out of things like space exploration, industrial and technical development, and human relations skills. As men put more and more ef-fort into understanding and controlling the universe we touch, see, and hear everyday, there is the conclusion developing that religious ideals and ideas no longer have a place in human life. The simple reasser.tion that God is alive and that He is important is not as convincing nor attractive as a heart transplant or a flight to the moon. That simply will not do. What is needed is a fresh outlook toward the way in which the process of becoming holy is somehow harmoniously interwoven with the human effort exerted in the direction of un-derstanding, building up, and controlling this universe. Such a fresh outlook will demand that we first of all get rid of all our false notions: about God and the world being in opposition to each other; about the supernatural being the best and the natural something that is second best or a mere accidental prelude to the supernatural; about the "afterlife" .being the sole im-portant thing and "nowlife" being a burdensome punish-ment. For many of us this also means trying to under-stand the correct way in which this present earthly life is a preparation for an open direct life with God. It means realizing that the universe is not some accidental stage play wherein what we do or what we build is meaningless unless we did it with a good intention and for the glory of God. What is required is the under-standing that the final coming of. Christ, just as His first coming, is conditioned by the development of man-kind. Because the full glory of Christ is intimately hound up with mankind it is also dependent upon the development of mankind. While the establishment of the new heavens and new earth spoken of in the Apoca-lypse is something Christ alone can bring about, it does not mean that they will appear out of the clear blue sky. Rather the unification that is evidently taking place among mankind seems to warrant the idea that until this unification is complete the entrance of the new heaven and new earth will not take place. The unification of mankind is not some kind of arbi-trary arrangement of individuals. It is in a very deep sense'th+ union brought about by the power and force of ÷ ÷ Conquest in World VOLUME 28, 1969 PlacidSOtt.Foi.lM~., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS love which is everywhere at work in the world. It is the same power which was at work on the first day of creation and is at work in the technological develop-ment of the world. It operates also in the specifically sanctifying deeds of the Incarnation, redemption, and their extensions, the sacraments. It is here that we can see the close connection between sanctification and de-velopment of the world. They are two efforts working in the same direction--the unification ~of mankind. Sanctification without the development of the world is unthinkable, just as development of the world without the painful redemptive efforts displayed and symbolized on the cross is an impossibility. The development of the world could not take place unless the effort to get rid of evil and disorganization were made as.well as the effort to see that truth, goodness, and beauty triumph. Sanctification must involve human endeavor and the op-eration of those powers which make a person to be a person, namely, his will, intelligence, and consciousness. As men use these powers in building up the world they are likewise working at their own unification. In this way the upward movement of becoming holy like God takes place while the forward movement of develop-ment of the universe is also taking place. The work of God and the work of man are constantly interchanging. We are not only becoming like God thru our work, but our work is more and more revealing God to us. Far from being in opposition, God's work of sanctification and man's work of building the universe are seen as two sides of the same coin or two paths to the same goal and destination. The sacred and the secular are closer to each other than we realize. Sanctification and Unification of the World It seems to be an unavoidable conclusion based pri-marily on man's experience .that the universe has been in a dynamic process of development and that the develop-ment is still going on. Looked at in its broadest sense, this development is best described as fulfilling the incompleteness of the creature and bringing organiza-tion and harmony to the disorder, failure, and disunity found at every level of created .being. Another way of looking at this is to think in terms of.°getting rid.of the evil, both moral and physical, that accounts for mechanical failures as well as the failures of the human will to choose the good. On this level we can see sanctification and unification working on the same broad principle. Sanctification is directed to furthering the God-centered harmonious functioning of man's powers of intellect, will, and consciousness, while unifi-cation is directed to an increasing organization of .the physical elements of the universe. In both the moral and physical sphere, mankind has had to wait for the proper time and the proper understanding of how these parts can better function together. Between the two processes of sanctification and,unifi-cation there is an exchange and an interdependence. For one thing, the harmonious functioning of man on the moral and spiritual level is obviously tied to a proper development of the physical well-being of the body. It does not guarantee good order on the moral level, but it is a condition. Health and wealth at a certain level are indispensable. We all know and experience that forced poverty has a way of crippling man's judgement of right and wrong, his sense of justice, and his esteem for his neighbor's welfare. Further, we should consider how the spread of the gospel, the development of moral value systems, and the knowledge of the sacramental means of sanctification are all dependent upon the proper use of mass communi-cations and upon a proper understanding of human re-lations and the difl~erent cultural values of a given group. On the other hand, sanctification and specifically Christian holiness and man's moral value systems as they develop and improve do assert a controlling effect on the direction and expression of physical evolution and technological advancement. For a very common ex-ample we can take the peaceful uses of nuclear energy which the moral values of nations are bringing about. Endeavor and Endurance for the Christian Today Because of the close interplay between the develop-ment of the .world and man's union with God, any religious ethic that separates the two is doomed not only to be unattractive but eventually will be proved to be erroneous. A legal morality of do's and don't's must give way to a dynamic morality of conquest. The pro-gram for a Christian today must be one that envisions union with God in and thru the world. In attaining this union, it is fundamental for Chris-tians to accept and understand that the universe by God's plan has been locked dead center on Christ. The world as we know it is headed toward Christ as its center and fullness. Every development both of material growth and spiritual growth is aimed at building up a new heaven and new earth, centered in Christ. In this conquest, the Christian consciously and all men by their very existence are called to collaborate enthusiastically, knowing that by their fidelity and obedience and also thru the work they have accomplished, they are com-pleting this universe. Each person must sincerely work at development. His + + ÷ Conquest in the World VOLUME 28, 1969 O~.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS own personal development and the conquest of the world are to be done not simply to keep oneself busy and out of trouble but because this effort is vital to the building up of the universe. All effort that promotes and directly increases the general consciousness of mankind is the best effort. The highest moral principles guiding hu-man action are not those which protect and safeguard man's rights and duties, but those Which promote the best development of the person, society, and the world. In other words, those things which are in the direction of growth of the spirit of man are good, and what is best is that what assures the highest development of the spiritual powers of the earth. If our action furthers the unification and development of the world and the peo-ple in it, it is a good action. The question comes up as to how we can determine if our action furthers growth. Basically our general goal is to increase personal responsibility, freedom, and hu-man consciousness. This is not an easy order, and that is "why emphasis must be placed on the three charac-teristics of human endeavor that will allow for the de-velopment of human consciousness and personal re-sponsibility: Purity, charity, and self-denial are three basic strengths which provide for the necessary growth. When speaking of purity it is important to under-stand it in a dynamic sense, not in any passive restrictive sense. Purity is that power which seeks to organize all our personal energies along the lines of personal whole-ness and integrity--getting rid of those elements in us which tend to pull our forces in a thousand disorganized directions. In unifying the powers of man, purity brings about a conquest and achievement which frees the person for an ever greater expression of the power of love. Purity seeks the unification of the person, while charity is directed to the unification of persons among themselves. For many of us love or charity is simply a command to avoid hurting our neighbor or overstep-ping his rights. This is a rather narrow, negative view of charity. It fails to take in the dynamic element of active furthering of the growth of our neighbor and of the whole universe. Love as energy in its widest sense is the power which draws all things together. It has a synthesizing effect. Love when it takes on the form of Christian charity is all the more powerful because it is the effort of unification, but now in Christ and thru Christ. Charity inspired by Christ is charity which moves and advances mankind and the whole universe toward Him. In the final analysis, love is not only positive and dynamic, but universal and totally directed to building up the world into a unity in Christ. For the Christian who is sincerely interested in the true progress and development of the world, the mes-sage of the cross in terms of self-denial, detachment, and renunciation is as important as seeing a computer operate an assembly line and a turbine generator light a city. He knows and experiences the detachment that must go into an enthusiastic collaboration with the whole human effort in furthering the growth of the world toward the fullness of Christ. In accomplishing any ideal, the difficult labor involved is necessarily a victory over selfishness and egotistical laziness. This detachment thru .action on the material of life is a continuation of and is patterned on the method ex-pressed in the Incarnation--immersion and insertion into the world so as to transform and lead the world to God. But experience shows us that the most radical trans-formation of people and things takes place not thru a simple laborious effort to create and produce but thru the endurance of evils and failures, stresses and painful strains including that of death. A world that is still in the process of development must of necessity have fail-ures and faults for the simple reason that it is not com-plete. Thru the plan of God and man's cooperation, the failures can be brought to serve a higher purpose. Even the impurity in a stone can be made to add beauty and tone to the final product. A moral defect thru the trans-formation of repentance can be the occasion of a greater good. All of the suffering involved in the endurance of evil and that of death has for its final aim the union of man with God in and thru Christ. Such union cannot take place without a going out of oneself. Union revolves around love and love means giving oneself to the one loved. Death in our world is the process by which the final and complete union with God is accomplished. It is the decentering of our self and centering on God. This involves a change of state, but in all development at a certain point a complete rearrangement of elements is necessary for the further functioning on a higher level. The significance of Christ's necessary death and His new form of life after it is a fact of history which is able to give validity and assurance to all men that death is not the end of all but the door to a change of life. Contemporary Man and the Future It is easy enough for modem man to exert the effort to build a new world if the dangers and ris~ are not too great. The vast development of the world which we are now experiencing is not an absolute guarantee that man's progress will always be forward and upward. The 4- ÷ .Conquest in the VOLUME 28, 1969 " 217 temptation to revolt in the face of great odds and diffi-culties is as possible as it ever was. As man becomes more complex and his consciousness more highly developed, the possibilities for further progress are just as good as the possibilities for destruction. It all depends how man chooses to use his powers--in the direction of greater growth in true Christian life or in selfish temporary satisfaction. The urgency to get out of oneself and build a better world for all men is not a call to be answered later. The forces involved in a developing universe are forces that are centered in Christ and ultimately in God the Father. Christ's invitation to be with Him and gather or else to be against Him and scatter is both a promise and a threat that either we build with Him or be cast aside into unending disorganization and disunity. Heaven and hell are as real as they are totally opposite each other. Heaven is full of life in perfect harmony. Hell is empty life in total discord. Man at every point in history must simply choose to build the earth and its spiritual forces in and with Christ or to build a "nothing" out-side Him. + 4. + P/~id O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CARLO A. WEBER, S.J. The Field oJ Combat: Neurotic or Existential Guilt There is no domain in which the acute problem of communication between theology and psychology is more evident than in the experience of guilt. Stormy en-counters on the nature and origins of the experience, its place in human development, its effects on human lives wage on without much hope of resolution, largely because the language, the symbols, and the context of the discussion are not the same for all the contestants. The field of combat is common to all; but the rules of the game are not ~he same. A split-level mode of com-munication has prevailed. Jung remarked of this en-counter that " . both appear to use the same language, but the language calls up in their minds two totally different fields of association. Both [theologians and psychologists] can apparently use the same concept, and then are bound to acknowledge to their amazement that they are speaking of two different things." And to make the issue even more complex, one can add the profes-sional legalist to the lists. For from yet another stance, the lawyer is also concerned with problems of guilt. The experience of guilt, then, is the common playing field for theologians, psychologists, lawyers. But for each, it means whatever the methodological conditioning of his own discipline obliges it to mean. For the moral theologian, it has generally suggested reprehensibility, culpability, blame-worthiness, sin. For the lawyer, it means, specifically, responsibility before the law, civil or ecclesiastical, or criminality as determined by legal can-ons. And for the psychologist, in sharp contrast, it im-plies rather a first-level symptom, the crippling expres-sion of a depreciating self-concept, perhaps the residue of a super-ego-oriented childhood training. + 4- ,I, Carlo A. Weber, S,J., is Director o[ Psychological Serv-ices; Loyola Univer-sity of Los Angeles; Los Angeles, Cali-fornia 90045. VOLUME 28, 1969 219 Carlo Weber, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 220 When the discussants in the dialogue use the same word to denote such utterly different things, communica-tion soon dissolves into futile bickering over semantics. Guilt is sin; guilt is crime; guilt is symptom. The vocal sounds one hears in the dialogue alert the same signals; but the phenomena signalized are in no way the same. In such a conversation of nonmeanings, a fruitless and frus-trating collision course is inevitable. It is like approach-ing a railroad crossing without the slightest assurance that the waving semaphore symbolizes an approaching train or an unimpeded right-of-way. One would be better off without the semaphore in such a case; and so we might be better off without the word "guilt." The "guilt-language," as the "God-language" in many instances, or the "soul-language," oi other similar efforts at non-communication might best be scrapped, that we might attempt an uncluttered look at the phenomenological realities and then allow a new language to emerge to fit the reality. Orwell's "New-speak," or Cattell's crypto-scientific system of operational definitions in psycho-metrics may, however wild they first seem, be something of the answer. We might well avoid the confusion that always arises from previous connotations to a word by introducing entirely different sound associations. The present state of affairs, then, is largely one in which the language of guilt tends to divide authorities rather than to aid communication between them. When the psychologist hears his legal associate describe a man's guilt in court and watches him step nimbly through what appears to be a maze of legal fictions, he finds the process frightfully objective, abstract, impersonal, inhuman. But the lawyer is not really describing the psychologist's "guilt." The theologian is properly horri-fied, on the other hand, when he hears the psychologist's attempts to gloss over the reality of guilt and speak of it as some neurotic myth. This, to him, is a form of "psy-chologizing"-- foggy, anarchic, and sentimental. But the psychologist is not, in fact, describing the theologian's "guilt" either; indeed, if he is loyal to his methodology, he has nothing to say of it. One could, of course, con-tinue with this litany of misunderstanding; the cross-cultural impasses are possibly as evident as the semantic circus of an international diplomatic conference. Though it may be next to impossible to draw meaning from this semantic labyrinth, we are, nonetheless, stuck with it. It is of value to note that within the verbal en-tente, orientations which have traditionally set the con-testants apart do emerge. It may be helpful to try to clarify them. For the psychologist, guilt is strictly a sub-jective phenomenon, a feeling, if you will, that can be-come almost the pervasive element of one's inner experi- ence. The psychologist, as such, is little concerned about the external, objective counterpart of the experience. His world, as a clinician, is the perceptual world, not pre-cisely the accuracy of the percepts. Whether one's feeling of guilt, therefore, is rooted in anti-social actions, or in an interiorized, guilt-ridden self-concept is not pre-cisely the point. It is now the individual's feeling; and the psychologist deals with it as such. He also realizes that the intensity of the experience is not necessarily in proportion to the quality of an external action or event. One individual may experience crushing guilt subsequent to running a red light at a deserted intersection; another may remain blandly guilt-free after bludgeoning a harm-less old lady's skull. Such a feeling of guilt is clearly not the function of some specific external action; but it is rather the correlate and the expression of his own inner awareness of his value, or rather the lack of it. The inner awareness is the point of differentiation for the psycholo-gist. For both the moral theologian and the lawyer, however, there is an objective emphasis in the philosophy of guilt. An objective norm which has been violated is the criterion according to which one assesses guilt. That norm, of course, is not the same for both. For the lawyer, it is the civil or common law. For the moralist, it is the "will of God," expressed either through canon law, or the magisterium of a teaching Church, or the Sacred Books, or the natural law. But in each case, the norm is an external one; and guilt is the function of a violation of that norm. Once that has been established, the legalist can turn his atten-tion to the degree of individual-culpability, for example, knowledge of the existence of the norm, consciousness at the moment of violation, presence or absence of over-whelming emotional or physical duress, and so forth. So long as we can reasonably assume some subject-ob-ject dichotomy, these two arrangements appear to be quite different. The moral theologian and the lawyer, both with their own specific articulation of the norm of behavior, regard guilt as the individual's posture be-fore the law; the psychologist sees it more as the individ-ual's posture before himself. That there is room for an overlapping of these dimensions is as true as the fact that the subject-object dichotomy is not crystal clear; but, with that qualification, the criteria are different, and so also are the semantic worlds built around the two points of view. Unfortunately, the tradition of morality in the West has been heavily legal since the days when the Latin rite was imposed on the Western Church. And with the Latin rite came the Roman tradition which was one of law and legal prescriptions. The language and the emphasis of Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 Carlo Weber, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 the Western Church, when addressing itself to questions of mor~ility and guilt, has been on the side of law. Moral textbooks became classic examples of legal casu-istry. Room was always left, to be sure, for the "subjec-tive," as preserved in the distinction between formal and material sin; but the bulk of any discussion inevi-tably turned about a consideration of the objective or material guilt. Scarcely more than a condescending nod was given to the presence of the subjective element as the final determinant of sinfulness, with something of a begrudging acknowledgement that that aspect, after all, was the most important. But no effort at all was ex-pended, until very recent times, in attempting to provide some phenomenological map of the subjective. Perhaps the futility of that prospect obliged the moralists to turn their attention to the legal puzzle that was, after all, more intellectually satisfying and a good deal more comfort-able. One would suggest, mindful of the discussions swirling about Pope Paul's encyclical, Humanae vitae, that it is clear that the legal emphasis is still the pre[ vailing attitude of the official Church. The rupture within the Church is precisely a function of the person versus Law approaches to morality and guilt. When the law becomes the criterion for human be-havior, the stage is set for casuistic thinking :about morality. This implies a mental "set" in which one is concerned chiefly with the degree of deviation from the norm. How far, for example, can I deviate from the statement of the law and still be safe? Or, at what point of deviation do I stray from the area of safety to the do-main in which I must be classified as a sinner, if it be a moral law, or a criminal, if it be a civil law? Legal guilt is the consequence of straying outside the latitude which the law allows. In that area the legalo-moralist conducts his conceptual jousting. Only recently have attempts been made to bring about a wedding of the law and the personal in the various modes of situational ethics. And this, of course, is both the effect of the communion of psychologists and theologians and a stimulating rein-forcement for it. The norm becomes more an ideal which one strives to approach continuously throughout his life rather than a law from which one deviates. Neurotic Guilt The genesis of neurotic guilt, as described by the psychopathologist, follows a commonly described nuclear process that was most brilliantly outlined originally by Karen Horney. There are four discernible stages. The process begins with a faulty personality development in childhood. The child, whose first self-concept, as such, is the result of the interiorization of the value placed upon him by his parents, sees himself as those significant people in his life see him. If the child is rejected, un-wanted, ignored, neglected, he begins at an .early stage in psychological development to see himself as unworthy, unlovable. This is a fairly obvious situation and need not be explored at any length. The rejected child anticipates rejection' from others because that is the extent of his experience; and he can, in gross instances, unconsciously provoke rejection by hostile, abrasive conduct, precisely because of this expected response pattern. Such a child is almost bound to "always hurt the one he loves." At the other extreme of parental reaction, the child can be overprotected in his early years. The result is the absence of any process of growth into independence. The custo-dial love of the parent prevents the possibility of growth, and the child remains weak, helpless, dependent. In terms of the growth of a self-concept, the child will tend to see himself in the same manner and behave as such. No one is unfamiliar with the suffocating, devouring, .de-structive mother-child relationship, described first by Strecker, who coined the phrases "Morn" and "Mom-ism" in his classic, Their Mothers" Sons. The notion has become virtually a household word since, made even more popular with the expression of theories of a bur-geoning matriarchal society. Interestingly enough, the effect on the self-concept of the child of both rejection and overprotection is ap-proximately the same. These are simply two sides of the same coin. In either case, the child is not being valued for himself. The rejected child is not loved at all; the overprotected child is not loved, except as the mirror reflection of the mother, whose narcissistic needs are pro-jected on him. In both instances, the child disappears. This is also true, but not to the same extent, in the situa-tion where the parents' love for the child is conditional. The child is loved providing he follows certain ground rules established by the parents. Ground rules are essen-tial, of course, but they ought not to be the condition for acceptance. If they are, the child sees himself as valuable and lovable only as long as he continues to ful-fill the regulations for being loved. He ,must continue to perform the tasks prescribed; and, in time, the task-oriented process becomes a way of life. Whether the child is rejected, overprotected or conditionally-loved, the effect, in varying degrees, is the same. The child perceives him-self as inadequate, unlovable, helpless, or constantly in need of proving his value. The moral analogue to the psychological feeling of ineptness or inadequacy is the feeling of guilt. The latter is merely a translation 'of the same feeling from psycho-logical language to moral language. To say, in a psycho-÷ ÷ 4- Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS logical context;.that I am weak, flaccid,, incompetent, un-lovable is the same as saying, in a moral context, I am bad, sinful, guilty. The difference here between the neu-rotic guilt and genuine forms of responsible guilt lies in the difference between the phrase "I am bad" and the statement "I do bad things." The former is a description of the basic personality of the self-depreciating neurotic; the latter a description of occasional activity. The most apt expression of the neurotic guilt feeling was given me, quite incidentally, by a woman patient, who was in-credibly scrupulous. For her, every action was a sin. In a therapy session, she remarked, rather in passing: "You know, sin is in my veins." And with this cryptic obser-vation, she sums it all up. "Sin, badness, is as much a part of me as my very blood. It describes my life, my being, my essence, as it were. And since I am, in es-sence, sinful, every action, which, in fact, is an expres-sion of my nature, must be sinful. I shall either discover it there, as the scrupulou
