Suchergebnisse

Eighteen years ago, I started my out-patients' experience as specialist dermatologist. I worked from the very first day with National Health Insurance System. It was a chance to build a huge experience (more than 120,000 visits since then). Over time, relationships with patients have changed, influenced by many factors. To preserve good relationships we have to reflect and to use different approaches. In 2001, my stamp and my signature were enough for a consultation. The cell phone era was at the beginning. Over the years, the process has become more and more complicated. Today, if the computer, internet, different types of applications, software, other devices (printer, card reader, etc.) are not working, my knowledge becomes absolutely necessary, but not sufficient for a consultation. So, the doctor is now, totally dependent on IT issues. Besides instant information, cell phones induce a lack of intimacy. Everyone could reach you everywhere, every moment. You are almost "forced" to give advice on whatsapp, e-mail, messenger and people expect you to answer on-site, otherwise you are not "reachable". Time is the first pressure that we are feeling. Patients want and expect a consultation as soon as possible even you have appointments for the next few weeks. I try my best not to push later than 10 days, if it is a new ordinary consultation. Sometimes, it is possible for me to see the patient on-site (a child, an emergency, pregnant women, etc.). In the literature, time for appointment could vary from 7 working days in Brazil [1], to median 41 days in Canada (Ontario) [2] or median 45 days in US (Pennsylvania) [3] to a certain dramatic situation waiting list of 57 weeks in a unit in UK [4]. The number of consultations tends to increase. It is not only a perception, but a reality, revealed also by a French study (21% increase from 2000 to 2010) [5]. Time is also a burden for the doctor, because the real time for consultation has dramatically reduced in favor of bureaucratic issues. Official papers seem to be more important than people. It is a constant effort to remain emphatic and to really listen to patient's history. The stories that we are ignoring for lacking time could give us important clues for diagnosis, approach, could enforce the relationship and give trust, could relief the worries. "You are the 5th dermatologist I am seeing"- a young woman told me the other day. I looked at her: she was around 20, some pimples on her jaw (not too many) and some tiny scars on her forehead covered by a lot of makeup. Not quite a good start for a relationship. Her expectations were not fulfilled by visiting the other doctors. Maybe the expectations were not realistic, maybe she was fed up trying different things. "How can I propose something new or miraculous when she tried probably "everything"? - I asked myself. I spent at least half an hour discussing about acne, therapeutic options and adjusting the expectations to our limits. It was more a counseling session than a dermatologic consultation. Today, patients are coming in our office very informed. They "know" the diagnosis and sometimes even the treatment they want or need. After "Dr. Google" you can be a second opinion. Dermatology is underestimated even by other physicians that feel competent enough to prescribe medication inducing iatrogenesis [6]. So, what to expect from patients? It is a good thing to have an informed patient. It will save you a lot of time and energy in expanded explanations. But, there is also a lot of incorrect or 1 Dali Medical, Bucharest, Romania 118 misunderstood information, prejudices from other's experience shared on forums, incorrect auto-diagnosis or even incorrect auto-medication. It is our duty to listen and to correct, as much as we can. Patients have to be taught how to choose important information from the constant "soup of news feed". The flux of information is huge, also for doctors as for patients. Thousands of opinions, articles, and new approaches invade our space daily. A good selection criteria for useful, relevant data is absolutely necessary. A "happy" patient seems to be the one with a certain diagnosis, with clear treatment plan, including explaining side effects and with a contact number in case of recurrence [7]. The access of any information being so instant, patients expect a rapid response of the treatment. The result has to be now and definitive. The pressure of quick response is not very subtle, the doctor feeling it as a burden. It takes time to explain and to understand the progression of chronic illnesses. Sometimes, the expectations are to get well with any treatment, eventually without any changes of their life style, even when doctor explains that some habits could aggravate or maintain the lesions. Taking responsibility for some adjustments is an important part to discuss with patient, as part of therapeutic approach. Paternal, omniscient doctor's image is no longer in actuality and patient is an important part of the relationship. Instead of an "infantile" patient, coming for any transitory rash or any mosquito bite, it is better to "grow" him/her as a self-confident "partner". The new and healthy bond has to transform patient from the passive, sometimes passive-aggressive role, into an assumed, informed, pro-active one. Cooperation is the key of healthy relation. Patient has the right to ask for explanations, to discuss therapeutic options, to refuse treatments. Patients have opinions that have to be respected and sometimes corrected if they are distorted. On the way to get therapeutic alliance and long-term cooperation, the doctor-patient relationship has to be personalized, giving value to it. This kind of relationship will make the difference in the end and even the direction is to involve more high tech and robots. Face-to-face relationship will not be replaced by anything and it will be highly appreciated after the "speed" condition passes. More social skills are often required, doctors not being known as the best communicators. Sometimes, doctors are not aware of patients' perception regarding communication [8]. I have got my social skills working day by day, no special courses were made during faculty, unfortunately. "We need fewer memorizers and more thinkers and communicators in modern medicine" is the most recent conclusion of Canadian Debate Series regarding medical students' selection [9]. Another pressure point is the constant fear of errors. With all the efforts of protocols for reducing the risk of mistakes or misconducts, unfortunately there are lots of gaps and debates. The fear of error and malpraxis leads to excess of medication and investigations, sometimes too expensive and useless. Doctors should not be scared by the abundance of products, instruments, techniques, aggressively promoted. They have to be more flexible, more intuitive and more eager to try, making personal experience and not taking results for granted. Many of these products will not pass the test of time, even they are presented as "miraculous". Sometimes, patients' needs are the trigger for experimenting new methods and push us to progress faster. Not only patients are in a rush, doctors too. The race for EMC points is making the doctor more informed, but we have to be careful not to become too superficial. Even a doctor is getting a diploma after a "3 days course", it doesn't mean that he/she will be an expert in that field, not even competent. It will take a lot of time and energy to really get the expertise, that course being only the very first step on the road. The "diplomas wall", real or virtual is a false goal. In the end, the real skills are more important than a sublime image and it will take time to get them. Sometimes, vanity makes the teamwork harder. This will be unproductive for both doctors and patients. It is not a shame to refer the patient to an expert on a field when you feel that you have reached a limit. People are hardly trying to change our state from patient to client, that new status being debatable. Being a client means to take some responsibilities as in a contract. That is the good part. But, fortunately, remaining a doctor means more than providing services. Practicing medicine is a state of knowledge, art, experience, intuition, with magic touches sometimes. Fortunately, with all the changes during the last years, dermatologists seem to remain satisfied with their specialty. A recent Mexican study shows that 93% of dermatologists (with an average of 16 years of practice) were happy with their professional life, more than 98% choosing it once again [10]. Maintaining certain levels of professional and personal happiness, keeping informed and open-minded, avoiding burn-out, trying to fulfill patients' expectations, doctors are not in a battle, but in strong alliance with patients.

Tom Cyberbezpieczeństwo wyzwaniem XXI wieku jest opracowaniem, które wpisuje się w kontekst rozważań poświęconych wielorakim aspektom bezpieczeństwa w cyberprzestrzeni. Autorzy, którzy zostali zaproszeni do realizacji tego projektu, prezentują różne spojrzenia na tę problematykę. Pomysłodawcą pierwszego rozdziału – Główni aktorzy cyberprzestrzeni i ich działalność jest Tomasz Hoffman. Autor, piszący z perspektywy prawno-politologicznej, posiłkujący się dorobkiem nauk o bezpieczeństwie, koncentruje się na ukazaniu potencjalnych aktorów cyberprzestrzeni, ich działalności, a w tym również zachowań niezgodnych z prawem. Cyberbezpieczeństwo, zdaniem Hoffmana, jest nową dziedziną bezpieczeństwa narodowego, z którą nieodłącznie wiążą się takie wyzwania, jak cyberprzestępczość oraz cyberterroryzm. Drugi rozdział – Cyberbezpieczeństwo jako wyzwanie dla współczesnego państwa i społeczeństwa – wyszedł spod pióra Marka Górki. Badacz dokonał przeglądu aktualnego stanu bezpieczeństwa cybernetycznego w kontekście rozprzestrzeniania się zagrożeń pochodzących z cyberprzestrzeni, tworzonych przez organizacje państwowe oraz niepaństwowe. Górka stoi na stanowisku, że cyberprzestrzeń stała się podstawową cechą świata i stworzyła nową rzeczywistość dla prawie wszystkich krajów, co sprawia, że problemy z cyberprzestępczością oraz cyberbezpieczeństwem mają istotne, globalne znaczenie zarówno w wymiarze politycznym, jak i gospodarczym. Z przemyśleniami Górki koresponduje tekst Bogusława Węglińskiego – Cyberterroryści w cyfrowych czasach – profesjonalizacja i digitalizacja współczesnych organizacji terrorystycznych. Autor poddał analizie ewoluujące wraz z rozwojem technologii instrumentarium wykorzystywane przez grupy terrorystyczne, zwracając uwagę na Internet, który otworzył przed nimi nowe możliwości oddziaływania, a w tym także w sferze kreowania przekazu medialnego. W tekście zawarte są również dociekania dotyczące możliwości użycia przez terrorystów dronów. Nadmieńmy, że także czwarty rozdział Ataki cyberfizyczne a system bezpieczeństwa narodowego, którego autorem jest Bogusław Olszewski, wpisuje się w nurt wcześniejszych dociekań. W tej części tomu poruszone zostały sprawy związane z niepożądanym oddziaływaniem systemów cyberfizycznych na bezpieczeństwo otoczenia międzynarodowego. Zdaniem Olszewskiego, ich hybrydowy (cyfrowo-materialny) charakter sprawia, że wpływają nie tylko na logiczną warstwę cyberprzestrzeni, ale także na dziedzinę fizyczną. Umożliwiają m.in. destabilizację porządku wewnętrznego państwa, co w konsekwencji może prowadzić do destrukcyjnych zmian w szerszym, międzynarodowym kontekście. Stanowią zatem wielowymiarowe zagrożenie dla szeroko pojętego systemu bezpieczeństwa globalnego W rozdziale piątym, Marcin Adamczyk przedłożył tekst Cyberszpiegostwo w relacjach chińsko-amerykańskich w kontekście potencjalnej zmiany światowego hegemona. Opracowanie poświęcone jest działaniom Chińskiej Republiki Ludowej w cyberprzestrzeni, ukierunkowanych na nielegalne pozyskanie amerykańskich technologii wojskowych i cywilnych. Zdaniem autora, Państwo Środka jest aktualnie jedynym krajem, który obecnie mógłby rzucić wyzwanie dominacji Stanów Zjednoczonych. Dążenie do uzyskania statusu państwa hegemonicznego wymaga zatem od Pekinu zbudowania odpowiedniej koalicji wspierającej Chiny na arenie międzynarodowej, ale również zmniejszenia dystansu ekonomicznego, jaki dzieli to państwo od Waszyngtonu. Autorem kolejnego rozdziału jest Kamil Baraniuk, którzy przygotował tekst Zarys przemian instytucjonalnych rosyjskiego wywiadu radioelektronicznego. Baraniuk podkreśla, że współczesny wysoki stopień zinformatyzowania społeczeństw i powszechności korzystania z technologii informatycznych sprawia, iż dane o charakterze sygnałowym i elektromagnetycznym stanowią bardzo istotne źródło informacji dla wyspecjalizowanych instytucji, zajmujących się ich gromadzeniem oraz przetwarzaniem. W tym kontekście zarysowuje genezę i przekształcenia instytucjonalne wywiadu radioelektronicznego Federacji Rosyjskiej, a co za tym idzie wojskowe i cywilne instytucje zajmujące się tego rodzaju działalnością na przestrzeni ostatnich kilkudziesięciu lat, przy uwzględnieniu ich zadań, a także zmian personalnych w ich kierownictwie. Rozdział siódmy napisany został przez dwie autorki z Ukrainy. Tetiana W. Nagachevskaya i Lyudmila Frliksowa przygotowały rozważania zatytułowane Napriamky formuwannia miżnarodnoji konkurentospromożnosti IT-sektoru Ukrajiny. Zawierają one analizę stanu i osobliwości kształtowania się międzynarodowej konkurencyjności sektora IT na Ukrainie. Nagachevskaya i Frliksowa zaprezentowały pozycję ukraińskiego sektora IT rozpatrywaną w kontekście Networked Readiness Index, który mierzy skłonność do wykorzystywania przez kraje możliwości oferowanych przez technologie informacyjno-komunikacyjne. Ponadto, ukazały przewagę konkurencyjną i wady ukraińskich firm IT na rynkach międzynarodowych oraz kierunki wzrostu międzynarodowej konkurencyjności sektora informatycznego Ukrainy. Kolejne dwa rozdziały dotykają problematyki religijnej w cyberprzestrzeni. Autorem dociekań – Religijne i parareligijne grupy destrukcyjne: wyzwania cyberprzestrzeni – jest Wojciech Gajewski, który zwraca uwagę na sprawę penetrowania wirtualnej przestrzeni przez destrukcyjne grupy religijne. Jego zdaniem, stanowią one wzrastające zagrożenie nie tylko dla jej indywidualnych użytkowników, ale także zbiorowości społecznych. Religioznawca jest zwolennikiem podejmowania szeroko zakrojonych działań badawczych, edukacyjnych, a także prawnych, które wpłyną na ograniczenie negatywnych następstw ich aktywności w cyberprzestrzeni. Z kolei, Lucjan Klimsza przedłożył tekst Filozoficzne aspekty działania Internetu w kontekście zadań misyjnych Kościoła. Autor, który jest duchownym ewangelickim, zwraca uwagę na możliwości, jakie otwiera przed współczesnym chrześcijaństwem dostęp do przestrzeni cyfrowej. Klimsza wyraźnie zaznacza, że obecny Kościół musi być wspólnotą multimedialną, jednakże nie wirtualną, która jest oddalona od człowieka i jego realnej egzystencji. Autor, Internet postrzega zatem jako metamedium umożliwiające przekazywanie treści religijnych, które może być pomocne m.in. w spotkaniu i relacjach człowieka z człowiekiem oraz Boga z człowiekiem. Dziesiąty rozdziały Cyberbezpieczeństwo jako konstrukt w polskiej przestrzeni publicznej, będący rozważaniami o nachyleniu politologicznym, napisał Przemysław Mikiewicz. Tekst jest refleksją nad obecnością kategorii cyberbezpieczeństwa w polskiej przestrzeni publicznej, którą autor zawęził do opiniotwórczego oddziaływania centralnych instytucji państwowych oraz partii politycznych. Autor wskazuje, że pojęcie cyberbezpieczeństwa jest obecne w polskiej przestrzeni publicznej w różnym stopniu w dokumentach rządowych i w programach partii politycznych. Zdaniem Mikiewicza, występuje zasadnicza asymetria pomiędzy oboma typami dokumentów: dokumenty urzędowe poświęcają uwagę cyberbezpieczeństwu w znacznym stopniu, podczas gdy w dokumentach partyjnych kwestia ta jest jedynie wzmiankowana. Tak więc, cyberbezpieczeństwo jawi się jako rodzaj konstruktu, za pomocą którego kreowany jest obraz świata pełnego nienamacalnych niebezpieczeństw, do zwalczania których nieodzowne wydaje się publikowanie dokumentów pod postacią kolejnych doktryn i strategii walki z zagrożeniami w cyberprzrestrzeni. W nurt rozważań politologicznych wpisują się także dwa kolejne teksty. Autorem pierwszego jest Grzegorz Tokarz, którego dociekania zostały zatytułowane Internet jako instrument nawoływania do przemocy – przykład organizacji "Krew i Honor" Polska. Tekst przybliża działalność polskiej sekcji neonazistowskiej organizacji "Krew i Honor", a w tym zawartość jej strony internetowej, która jest istotnym narzędziem w propagowaniu idei tego środowiska, jak również źródłem informacji o osobach oraz instytucji uznawanych za zdrajców "białej rasy". Drugi tekst, który zarazem kończy niniejszy tom przygotował Mariusz Kozerski. W rozdziale Dawne afery polityczne ze współczesnej perspektywy: przykład sprawy Barschela/Pffeifera analizowana jest rola, jaką media odgrywają w nagłaśnianiu afer politycznych. Autor poddał oglądowi wydarzenia, które rozegrały się w latach 80 XX wieku, w północnoniemieckim landzie Szlezwik-Holsztyn, a w których ważną rolę odegrał opiniotwórczy tygodnik "Der Spiegel". Dodajmy, że Kozerski podejmuje się również próby odpowiedzi na pytanie, w jaki sposób afera kilońska mogłaby przebiegać współcześnie, w kontekście potencjału informacyjnego/opiniotwórczego, którym charakteryzuje się globalna sieć komputerowa. ; "Cybersecurity as the challenge of the XXI century" is a collection of considerations dedicated to various aspects of security in cyberspace. Authors, who have been invited to this project, present different views on this subject. An author of the first chapter, "The main actors of cyberspace and their activities", is Tomasz Hoffman. Writing from a legal and political perspective, including the achievements of security sciences, he tries to present potential actors of cyberspace, and their activities, including behaviors against the law. Cybersecurity, according to Hoffman, is a new element of national security and is related to challenges, such as cybercrime and cyberterrorism. The second chapter, "Cybersecurity as a challenge for modern countries and societies", has been written by Marek Górka. The researcher has reviewed the current situation of the cybersecurity in the context of the spread of dangers in cyberspace, created by government and non-government organizations. Górka states that cyberspace has become a basic feature of the world and has created a new reality for almost all countries, what caused that the problems with cybercrime and cybersecurity became significant in both, the political and the economic aspect. A text, which corresponds to the Górka's thoughts, is the text "Cyberterrorists in digital times - professionalization and digitalization of modern terrorist organizations" by Bogusław Węgliński. The author has analyzed the instruments used by terrorist groups. The instruments which have been evolving along with the development of technology. The most important of them is the Internet, which has opened new opportunities for terrorists, including digital communicating. The text also includes aspects of the usage of drones by terrorists. The fourth chapter, "Cyber-physical attacks and the national security system", by Bogusław Olszewski, is also related to the previously mentioned issues. This part of the book deals with matters of the undesirable impact of cyber-physical systems on the safety of the international environment. According to Olszewski, their hybrid (digital-material) character causes that they affect not only the logical aspect of cyberspace but also the physical one. They enable destabilization of the internal structure of countries, what can lead to destructive changes in the wider, international context. They are a multifaceted danger to the broadly understood system of the global security. In the fifth chapter, Marcin Adamczyk has presented a text titled "Cyberspying in Chinese-American relations, in the context of the potential change of the world hegemon". The study is dedicated to the activities of the People's Republic of China in cyberspace, taken to acquire American military and civil technologies. The author claims that China is currently the only country that could challenge the global domination of the United States. However, to obtain the status of the hegemonic state, Beijing would need to build a solid coalition, supporting China on the international arena, but also reduce the economic distance between Beijing and Washington. An author of the next chapter is Kamil Baraniuk, who has prepared a text titled "Outline of the institutional changes in the Russian radio-electronic intelligence". Baraniuk emphasizes that the high level of computerization of societies and the common use of information technologies makes the signal and electromagnetic data a very important source of information for specialized institutions dealing with information collection and processing. In this context the author outlines the genesis and the institutional transformation of the Russian radio-electronic intelligence, as well as the military and civil institutions dealing with this kind of activities over the last decades, analyzing their tasks and personnel changes in their management. The seventh chapter has been written by two authors from Ukraine. Tetiana W. Nagachevskaya and Lyudmila Frliksowa prepared a text "Napryamky formuvannya mizhnarodnoyi konkurentospromozhnosti IT-sector Ukrayiny". This text contains an analysis of the current situation and peculiarities in the shaping of the international competitiveness of the IT sector in Ukraine. Nagachevskaya and Frliksowa have presented the position of the Ukrainian IT sector, considered in the context of the Networked Readiness Index, which measures the tendency of different countries to use the opportunities offered by informational and communicational technology. In addition, they have shown competitive advantages and disadvantages of Ukrainian IT companies on international markets, and directions of growth of the international competitiveness of the IT sector in Ukraine. Next two chapters have been related to religious issues in cyberspace. "Religious and pseudoreligious destructive groups: the challenges of cyberspace" has been written by Wojciech Gajewski, who pays attention to the matter of penetrating of the virtual space by various destructive religious groups. In his opinion, they become increasing dangers not only for individual users of the cyberspace but also for entire social groups. The religious scholar is a supporter of extensive research, educational and even legal activities, that suppose to reduce the negative consequences of the sectarian activity in cyberspace. Next author, Lucjan Klimsza, has presented a text "Philosophical aspects of the Internet in the context of missionary tasks of the Church". Klimsza, who is a Protestant pastor, pays attention to the possibilities that the access to the digital space opens to contemporary Christianity. He clearly states that the current Church must be a multimedia, but not a virtual community, distant from a man and his real existence. The author sees the Internet as a meta-medium enabling the transmission of religious content, which may be helpful in cognition and relationship between man and God, as well as between man and man. Tenth chapter, "Cybersecurity as a construct in the Polish public space", has been written by Przemysław Mikiewicz from a political perspective. The text is a reflection of the presence of the cybersecurity in Polish public space, which has been specified by the author as the opinion-making influence of the central government institutions and political parties. The author indicates that the concept of the cybersecurity is present in the Polish public space in government documents and programs of political parties. According to Mikiewicz, there is a fundamental asymmetry between these two types: government documents pay a lot of attention to cybersecurity, programs of political parties, however, only mention about the issue. Finally, cybersecurity appears as a kind of a construct used to create an image of the modern world, full of immaterial dangers, which might be eliminated only by publication of new doctrines and strategies, created to combat dangers in cyberspace. The political aspect of the cybersecurity issue is present also in the next two texts. An author of the first one is Grzegorz Tokarz, whose section has been titled "The Internet as an instrument to incite violence - an example of Poland". The text introduces activities of the Polish section of this neo- Nazi organization, including the content of its website, which is an important tool, used to promote the ideas of this environment, as well as a source of information about people and institutions considered to be the traitors of the "white race". The second text, which also ends this book, has been prepared by Mariusz Kozerski. In this chapter, titled "Former political scandals from a modern perspective: an example of the Barschel/Pffeifer case", the analyzed issue is the role played by media to publicize political scandals. The author has reviewed incidents that took place in the 1980s, in the German land of Schleswig-Holstein. A significant role in those happenings was played by "Der Spiegel", an opinion-forming weekly magazine. Let's add that Kozerski also tries to answer the question of how that, socalled "Kiel scandal" could look like if it happened today, in the context of the contemporary informational/opinion-forming potential, which characterizes the global computer network.

Operating squarely within their histories of lack
of transparency, Bossier Parish and Bossier City's legislative organs recently
tackled controversial legal issues differently, one to the benefit and one to
the detriment of the citizenry.

The Police Jury appoints a member to the Cypress
Black Bayou Recreation and Water Conservation District, and that current term
expires at the end of the month. Held at present by Robert Berry, controversy
arose when, two terms back, Berry and his fellow commissioners appointed him
also as executive director. This eventually caught the attention of the state's
attorney general as a violation of dual officeholding, and after a protracted legal
battle this spring the Louisiana
Supreme Court instructed lower courts to rule along those lines.

Even so, the district's Board of Commissioners petitioned
for Berry's reappointment. Perhaps one reason was, according to public
comments made at their meetings, it had become dependent on Berry to make and
execute decisions on its behalf, and another maybe being that state law would force Berry
if leaving the Board to resign as executive director, as a former member
generally of a state board can't be employed by it until two years pass after
end of service, so commissioners wanted to keep him in that job.

But that wish simply didn't comport to legal
reality. At the
meeting, a parade of Berry's and the District's lawyers (it's uncertain to
this point how many taxpayer dollars they have burned on trying to fight the
state's case, but it's certainly into six figures and probably a tenth or more of
all District expenses annually over the last two or three years), other
commissioners, his friends, and family spoke about how great of a guy he was
and how great of a job he had done and how the decision hadn't actually kicked him
out of office, all arguing for reappointment.

However, legal advice rendered by lawyer and area political
insider Neil Erwin to the Jury reminded, if not understated, that eventually it
was a virtual lock that the judiciary in the future would find Berry in
violation. Erwin, rather than the attorney assigned by the district attorney's
office to serve as parish attorney, Patrick Jackson, delivered this message, which
was unusual in that Jackson rarely misses a meeting and only two weeks earlier
had busted a gut to return from the east coast in time to attend that previous
meeting, yet was absent for this one.

In early June, the Jury formally had solicited
applications for the post, drawing half a dozen applicants for vetting. All but
one spoke to the Jury, making the one who didn't conspicuous by his absence –
Rodney Madden, a local business owner and 2019 campaign supporter of Republican
Juror Philip
Rodgers. Although Rogers financed that campaign with mostly his own and
some family resources, Madden had made a testimonial video supporting
Rodgers. Additionally, Rodgers was one of the public complainers about Berry
having too much influence by default over the Board, where he, rather politically
guilelessly, said Berry had made certain representations that came as a result
of Rodgers' political position that now the Board he accused was trying to
renege upon.

Madden, it was asserted, was out of the country on
vacation and couldn't appear in person although he sent along a short video segment
– filmed by GOP Jury Pres. Doug
Rimmer – introducing himself. It would seem odd that somebody who followed
the Berry case and felt committed to offer services as a result, understanding
importance of letting the Jury publicly vet him, would have scheduled a
vacation at the very time he would have known, because of his interest in the
appointment, that the appointment would be made. That behavior seems more
consistent with someone who hadn't considered the matter until asked relatively
close to the opening of the search process to offer his services and who had
assurances that to receive serious considerations that jurors didn't need to
vet him publicly.

Whether this signaled the fix was in, at least one
applicant thought the fix in fact was in. Andy Modica, who actually in past and
present has been appointed to several positions in government by the Jury,
testified he had been told jurors already have decided upon someone, not him. Rimmer
then said he didn't doubt someone had told Modica that, but claimed it was "news"
to him who the mysterious slam-dunk appointee was.

Yet there was a slam-dunk appointee, when all was
said and done. Rodgers nominated the missing Madden and he received at least
seven votes in favor – recall that the Jury, despite having a budget in the
hundreds of millions of dollars annually, refuses to set up anything but a
rinky-dink cellphone-driven narrowcast Facebook Live transmission system for
meetings so it's impossible to tell who or how many votes are cast on measures
without actual physical attendance, until the minutes are approved weeks later.

That takes the issue of Berry being the Jury's
appointee off the table for fall juror elections – and without the timing of
the end of the five-year term happening to be months before the election, without
that spotlight Berry might have won a third term leading taxpayers to fork over
more dollars to defend his lost cause. Of course, other election issues remain such
as having Parish Administrator Butch Ford apparently illegally registered to
vote at a place that is not his residence that disqualifies him from holding
the job with the Jury's tacit consent and jurors illegally serving on the
parish's Library Board of Control.

Still, at least Madden legally may hold the position
and has the potential to serve well, making the action a victory for the parish
residents, most of whom pay directly or indirectly property taxes to fund the
District. Things didn't turn out so well for Bossier City residents in the
previous day's meeting
of the Bossier City Council.

There, a Council majority followed through on making
a formal request to ask for an outside legal opinion on petitioning for a
charter change to install term limits, despite
the fact that the Charter and state Constitution allow
for the process followed, and that the two propositions that limit officeholders
to three lifetime terms don't
unconstitutionally violate retroactivity prohibitions on criminal or penal laws.
It came up as a Council matter as a delaying tactic designed to push farther
into the future to a lower-stimulus election date the inevitable election that
must be called, which could increase the chances of its defeat.

But even more than that, rhetoric from City
Attorney Charles Jacobs and others indicated, arising from questions asked and
unasked, beginning with why Jacobs brought the matter in the first place. It
certainly wasn't at the behest of Republican Mayor Tommy Chandler, who in the
course of discussion made clear he was for term limits and wouldn't impede their
adoption. It therefore came from at least one councilor, as the Charter
permits that.

More blatantly, as articulated by GOP Councilor Chris Smith,
why did the Council have to do something formal about this when, just in the
past month, without seeking Council approval, Jacobs
had engaged outside counsel on another matter? Jacobs' response never
addressed that discrepancy.

However, what it did do was reveal the endgame strategy
behind the request that could benefit at least four of the five who voted for
the resolution, who with adoption of the proposals all would become ineligible
to serve any more terms. Essentially, Jacobs issued a veiled threat, apparently
reflecting the thinking of the Council graybeards, by invoking the long-running
dispute over the establishment of the city of St. George within East Baton
Rouge Parish as what could happen.

Of course, significant differences exist in these
two cases, where St. George's centers on a judgment call whether demands in state
law were met in the petitioning and election that approved the city's
establishment, but Bossier City's term limit proposal is cut-and-dried valid. Still,
the idea of launching costly litigation – weaponizing city government at
taxpayer expense precisely to attempt thwarting the will of the people – visibly
was put on the table.

This scorched earth strategy to save four
part-time jobs hopes best case to wear down those backing limits – who may have
to retain counsel to sue the city if the Council doesn't approve of term limits
in its next meeting or fails to place
the matter on the Nov. 18 ballot by Sept. 25 – so that they give up or to
delay matters to a lower-stimulus election, and worst case to string things out
so much as to buy another term possibility for the graybeards. Regardless, bringing
about such litigation would be a selfish, self-interested response by a handful
of governing elites that, in attempting so hard to get around the clearly valid
rules in place, questions the very fitness of such persons to serve in office.

Es inaudito encontrar un sistema de cualquier tipo basado en computadores en el que el humano no interactúe con él. Incluso aunque se trate de una comunicación exclusivamente entre dos computadores, normalmente se incluye una interfaz que permita solucionar el enlace entre máquinas cuando aparece algún problema [Mulligan et al. 1991]. El usuario, como ser humano, necesita información, lo que se considera una de las pocas constantes en nuestro mundo, independientemente de la cultura a la que pertenezca o en el instante de tiempo en el que transcurra su actividad. Esta necesidad se combina con la ocupación del usuario en otras tareas que requieren su atención, de forma que hay al menos dos focos de atención que compiten por el bien más preciado de cualquier interfaz humano-computador: la atención del usuario. La existencia de diferentes escenarios, en las que el usuario espera resultados diferentes y consecuencias distintas ante la existencia de un error controla la aparición de distintos tipos de aplicaciones y dispositivos para soportar las demandas del usuario en condiciones de multitarea. En estos sistemas, conocidos como Sistemas de Notificación, las interfaces están diseñadas como un medio para acceder a información valiosa para el usuario de una forma efectiva y eficiente sin introducir interrupciones no deseadas en la ejecución de la tarea principal. Pueden encontrarse numerosas implementaciones de Sistemas de Notificación en una gran variedad de plataformas. Quizás en los sistemas de sobremesa son más fácilmente identificables: servicios de mensajería instantánea, aplicaciones que muestran el estado de un sistema, servicios de noticias e indicadores de cantidades almacenadas. Otros ejemplos familiares pueden encontrarse en procesos industriales y tecnológicos como la cadena danzante de Weiser como representación del tráfico de una red [Weiser y Brown 1996], los sistemas de información embarcados en vehículos, los sistemas incorporados en los vehículos para proporcionar información de los sistemas, los sistemas que proporcionan información sobre el entorno, los sistemas multi-monitor que indican los excesos de rango de un sistema y las cabinas de los aviones modernos. De otro lado, un sistema se considera crítico cuando un único fallo debido al sistema, al usuario o al modo en el que el usuario realiza las tareas para las que el sistema se diseñó, puede producir daños graves en el sistema, en su entorno o, aún más grave, en los usuarios del sistema. Ejemplos de este tipo de sistemas pueden encontrarse en los aviones, correspondiéndose con sistemas manejados por usuarios muy especializados. Genéricamente hablando, la evaluación de usabilidad incluye un amplio rango de métodos y técnicas usados por los evaluadores para evaluar, cualitativa o cuantitativamente, distintos aspectos relacionados con la usabilidad. Como soporte al diseño, la evaluación debe permitir, en primer lugar, la verificación de las decisiones de diseño y en segundo lugar elegir entre varias alternativas. Aunque se le conceda gran importancia, la evaluación de cualquier sistema está poco implantada como un proceso más en el ciclo de vida de un producto, ya que se suele considerar un proceso costoso, en tiempo y recursos, y que no añade ningún valor al producto. La evaluación de la interfaz humano-computador permite la comparación de distintas alternativas de diseño de sistemas y, en último lugar, determinar qué sistema es mejor. Por tanto, la evaluación debe proporcionar medidas cuantitativas para determinar la usabilidad de una interfaz y comparar dos interfaces distintas de forma objetiva. Aunque los usuarios de computadores están habituados al uso de Sistemas de Notificación, su evaluación está limitada a probar el valor intrínseco de paradigmas aislados de diseño basados en una única implementación. La evaluación de usabilidad de los Sistemas de Notificación está muy poco desarrollada en las interfaces de propósito general y, particularmente, en las interfaces de los sistemas críticos. Las únicas experiencias disponibles están basadas en datos empíricos reducidos en entornos simulados y en el seguimiento de ciertas guías de diseño probadas por la experiencia. Están guías proceden de aplicaciones militares y, aunque pueden ser cuestionadas desde el punto de vista de la ciencias cognitivas, están ampliamente aceptadas en el diseño de interfaces para Sistemas de Notificación críticos. Los diseñadores de estos sistemas pueden, razonablemente, rechazarlas basándose en su experiencia y en su juicio. Si no existe una evaluación cuantitativa basada en modelos cognitivos entonces el evaluador no puede ser capaz de determinar científicamente los errores en la interfaz. De hecho, puede llegarse a la situación sin salida en la que se enfrenten el juicio y el conocimiento del diseñador con los del evaluador. Esta situación puede resolverse con un marco de evaluación que proporcione datos cuantitativos que muestren si una alternativa de diseño es mejor que otra, basado en principios objetivos. El diseño y la evaluación de las interfaces humano-computador han evolucionado mucho más rápidamente que las teorías basadas en la psicología y la ciencia cognitiva y aún existen un gran número de problemas por resolver. Así, el diseño de interfaces ha evolucionado desde los editores de líneas y aplicaciones a medida con interfaces muy reducidas basadas en crípticos comandos de línea hasta las interfaces WIMP (Windows-Icons-Menus-Pointers), los sistemas de recuperación de la información, los agentes inteligentes, los servidores CSCW (Cooperative and Shared Computer Works), los entornos virtuales, la realidad aumentada, los bits tangibles, la computación ubicua, la web y los múltiples tipos de interfaces capaces de hablar y mostrar emociones. Mientras tanto, la evaluación de la usabilidad ha evolucionado basada principalmente en heurísticas y en la evaluación empírica [Nielsen 1993; Dix et al. 2.003]. La evaluación basada en la teoría ha sido considerada de un valor muy limitado [Landauer 1987] debido a su reducido ámbito de aplicación, aplicable únicamente a características propias de una interfaz y con una capacidad muy reducida para ser aplicada en otros diseños del mundo real, alejado de los laboratorios. Aunque se están realizando grandes esfuerzos para desarrollar teorías que cubran un amplio rango de tópicos, la mayor parte de ellas son solamente ajustes para explicar aplicaciones del día a día [Rudisill et al. 1996]. Actualmente la medida de prestaciones no se realiza frente a requisitos específicos previos al diseño. Es notable la ausencia de este tipo de requisitos en el ciclo de vida para el desarrollo de una interfaz humano-computador. En estos casos, se puede introducir un conjunto de parámetros críticos que permita definir las unidades de medida [Newman et al. 2000]. Estos parámetros son críticos porque el éxito o el fracaso del diseño dependen de forma crítica del cumplimiento de los objetivos fijados para estos parámetros. Los parámetros críticos permiten formalizar un espacio de diseño en el que se re-usa el conocimiento [Cheward et al. 2004], expresando los problemas asociados a una interfaz con un lenguaje consistente y que permite a los expertos expresar juicios a través de una 'evaluación medida' [Caroll et al. 1992]. El principal objetivo de esta tesis es desarrollar un marco de evaluación predictiva para Sistemas de Notificación en Aviónica (SNA) basado en las teorías cognitivas, que pueda proporcionar datos cualitativos y cuantitativos que permita a los diseñadores y evaluadores de interfaces averiguar si la interfaz sea usable antes de construirlo. De este modo, el diseñador de interfaces puede ser capaz de introducir la evaluación como patrones de diseño de la interfaz humano-computador sin requerir recursos adicionales. En esta tesis, la aproximación a la evaluación de la interfaz humano-computador de los Sistemas de Notificación para sistemas críticos en aviónica se propone en varios pasos. En primer lugar se establecen un conjunto de parámetros críticos basado en los modelos psicológicos, para después, realizar una evaluación predictiva de la usabilidad basada en la cuantificación de estos parámetros y, finalmente, aplicar de forma incremental las guías de diseño basándose en una estrategia de escenarios. Esta aproximación permitirá una evaluación sistemática garantizando, por un lado, centrarse en el diseño en términos de objetivos cuantificables, independientemente del evaluador y del usuario y, por otro lado, mejorar de forma continua y agregativa los diseños específicos aplicables a un problema determinado. En esta tesis, la principal contribución es la formalización matemática de cada uno de los parámetros críticos seleccionados para llevar a cabo la evaluación de usabilidad de las interfaces de Sistemas de Notificación integrados en sistemas críticos. El objetivo de esta tesis es conseguir una función de evaluación Ф, tal que aplicada a la interfaz del sistema de notificación permita obtener datos numéricos en el dominio de los números reales. Formalmente, el objetivo es obtener ℜΦ∃∀a)(/IIφ Donde I es la interfaz del sistema de notificación y Ф es la función de evaluación de la usabilidad que produce como resultado un número real. Para evaluar la validez de este marco de evaluación es aplicado a la interfaz de la planta de potencia de dos aviones modernos y a la interfaz de control de la planta de potencia de un avión de transporte militar. La aplicación de este marco de evaluación está basada en la ejecución de tests automáticos implementados en Ada95 aplicados a una caracterización XML de las interfaces. ____________________________________________ ; It's unheard-of to find any system of any kind, whether critical or not, based on computer with no human interaction. Even though it will be a system related with the communication between two computers it is mostly used to find an interface allowing to solve any problem related with the link between computers [Mulligan et al. 1991]. The user of a computer interface, as any human being, needs information, which is considered one of the few constants in our every day world, whatever his culture or activity. This need plays together with other tasks the user has to perform in such a way that there are at least two systems competing for the most appraised resource at any human-computer interface: the user attention. Different usage situations, expectations, and error consequences govern the growing breed of applications and devices being introduced to support multitasking information demands. Referred to as notification systems, these interfaces are generally desired as a means to access valued information in an efficient and effective manner without introducing unwanted interruption to a primary task. They can be found in many implementation forms and on a variety of platforms. Perhaps classic desktop systems are the most readily identifiable—instant messengers, status programs, and news and stock tickers. Other familiar examples such as Weiser's dangling string representation of network, in-vehicle information systems, ambient media, multi-monitor displays hint at the potential range of systems and modern aircraft cockpit. While use of these systems and the range of solutions have skyrocketed, our ability to scientifically recognize, pattern, and improve success within the HCI community has not kept pace. There are surprisingly few efforts in the literature that effectively evaluate usability of the information and interaction design for notification systems. On the other hand, a system will be considered as critic when a sole failure due to the system, the user, or the way the user executes the tasks that the system is designed for could produce serious damage to the system itself, in its surrounds or even tragic damage to the user. Examples of this kind of system can be found on many aircrafts corresponding to critical systems handled by very specialized users. Generically usability evaluation includes a spread set of methods and techniques used by evaluators for examining, qualitatively or quantitatively, several aspects related with usability. As support to the design, evaluation will allow firstly verification of design decisions and secondly to choose among possible alternatives. Although evaluation is recognized as very valuable it is rarely introduced in the design cycle of a product and it is deemed as very hard in terms of time and resources and what is worse is that it does not add any value to the product. Human-computer interface evaluation permits the comparison of different systems and ultimately to determine which system is better. Therefore evaluation shall provide direct measurement units to determine the interface usability and to compare two interfaces objectively. Even though computer users are extensively used for notification systems their evaluation is limited to probe the intrinsic value of some isolated paradigms of design based in a single implementation. The evaluation of notification systems is poorly developed on interfaces for systems in general and extremely rare in critical systems. The only available experiences are based on empirical data on simulated environments and the follow-up of some guidebooks probed by the experience. Those guidebooks come from military applications and even they can be questioned from the cognitive science point of view. These guidebooks are mostly accepted on interface user design for notification critical systems. The designer of these interfaces can justifiably reject them based on his experience and judgement. If there is no quantitative evaluation based on cognitive models then the evaluator will never be able to scientifically determine the errors in the interface. A situation can be reached with no way out, with the designer and the evaluator set against each other with conflicting needs. This situation can be resolved with an evaluation framework, which provides quantitative data showing whether one design is better than the other based on objective principles. Design and evaluation of human-computer interfaces have evolved much faster than theories based on psychology and cognitive science and still there are a number of issues that remain unresolved. The design has evolved since line editors and customized application with interfaces reduced to very cryptic line commands up to interfaces WIMP (Windows-Icons-Menus-Pointers), information recovery systems, smart agents, CSCW (Cooperative and Shared Computer Works) servers, virtual environments, augmented reality, tangible bits, ubiquitous computation, the web and many types of interfaces able to talk and show emotions. Usability evaluation has evolved based only on heuristics and empirical evaluation [Nielsen 1993; Dix et al. 2.003]. Evaluation based on theory has been considered as being of very limited value [Landauer 1987] due to the fact that it has a very limited scope and application areas, applicable only to local features of an interface and with a very reduced capacity to be re-used on other designs in the real world, far away from laboratories. Although a big effort is paid for developing theories covering a wide set of topics most of them are only adjustments so as to explain every day applications. Currently, the performance measurements are not done against specific requirements prior to design. It is notable that there is an absence of this kind of requirements in a human-computer interface development life cycle. In case of absence of performance requirements a set of critical parameters could be introduced in order to define measurement units [Newman et al. 2000]. These parameters are so called critical because the success or failure of a design will depend critically whether the fixed objectives are fulfilled or not. Critical parameters allow formalising a design space [Cheward et al. 2004] which allocates acknowledge re-use, expressing interface problems with a consistent language and let experts to express judgements through a mediated evaluation [Caroll et al. 1992]. The main objective of this thesis is to develop a framework of predictive evaluation for notification system on avionics (NSA) (from aviation electronics) based on cognitive theories which can bring both quantitative and qualitative data which allow interface designers and evaluators to guess whether the system will be usable before it is built. The interface designer will be able to include evaluation on the Human-Computer Interface pattern design without adding any additional resources. In this thesis the approach to usability evaluation for the design of Human-Computer Interface of notification systems for critical design in avionics is proposed in several steps. Firstly to establish the set of critical parameters based on psychological models, then to carry out a predictive usability evaluation based on the quantification of these parameters and finally to apply in an incremental way the design guidelines based on a scenario strategy. This approach will allow a systematic evaluation, achieving on one side to focalize the design in term of quantifiable objectives independently of the evaluator and the user and, on other side improving in a continuous and aggregative way the different designs applicable on a specific problem. In this thesis, the main contribution is a mathematical formalization of each critical parameter for carrying out quantitative usability evaluation on interfaces for notification systems integrated on critical system. The objective is to reach an evaluation function Ф in such a way that applied to the interface of a notification system I it will permit to get quantitative data on the real numbers domain. Formally the objective is to obtain ℜΦ∃∀a)(/IIφ Where I is the interface of the notification system and Ф is the usability evaluation function which produce a real number. To evaluate the validity of this framework it will be applied to two power plant control interfaces of modern aircrafts and to a power plant control interface to be implemented in a military transport aircraft. The application of this framework is based on the execution of automatic test implemented on Ada95 applied to a XML characterization for the interfaces.

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

Issue 60.2 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Making Connections Livin g S p i r i tu ally C o,mmunjty Living Refl:ections MARCH APRIL 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 2 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to boliness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms :of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis Universi .t-y by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° \Veb site: u~'w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary'~ Seminaw; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Perlnission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) coutained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law, All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm ¯ Judy Sharp " James and Joan F~lling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos AI Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg sC MARCH APRIL 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 2 118 139 Feeding the Beast: Postmodern Anxiety and Generational Challenges Christopher Robinson CM reflects on the question "Who are you and what do you mean?" asked by a postmodern consciousness or sensibility. Community and Communion: Making the Connections Doris Gottemoeller RSM presents four dimensions of a powerful analogy between Eucharistic life and religious community life that sheds light on both and shows between them a common spirituality. 152 Contemplatiori to Attain Love: A Paradigm for Apostolic Prayer Gerald M. Fagin sJ explains the four points of the final exercise in the Ignatian Exercises as a description of the prayer of an active minister. 162 What to Know about Discernment Ernest E. Larkin OCarm provides a succinct explanation of the cognitive, affective, and mystical ways of evaluating our experiences which we identify as discernment. Review for Religious 171 179 Apostolic Community in the Assumptionist/Augustinian Tradition John L. Franck AA sees, with St. Augustine, that religious communities work to shape our very lives and thus our very work in the world. Mission and Community in the Neighborhood: A Personal Reflection Catherine M. Harmer MMS shares her experience of being a religious community m(rnber living and participating in the community and ministry of neighborhoods. 187 196 201 Taking the Psalms to Heart Francis Dorff OPraem walks us reflectively through St. Romuald's Brief Rule so that we may live the psalms wholeheartedly. The Cross of Auschwitz: A Lenten Reflection Dennis J. Billy CSSR enters us into the silence of Auschwitz and its mystery of evil met by the mystery of the cross. The World Will Be Saved by Beauty Joan L. RoccasalvoCSJ revives, in ways both simple and subtle, an awareness of, a yearning for, the several transcendentals that have their warm, bright oneness in God. epzr me s 116 Prisms 206 Canonical Counsel: Incorporation into an Institute of Consecrated Life or a Society of Apostolic Life 212 Book Reviews March-April 2001 As John Paul II closed the holy doors at St. Peter's in Rome on January 6, the day that the Jubilee of the Year 2000 ended, he issued an apostolic letter titled "At the Beginning of the New Millennium." Similar to the apostolic letter issued in November 1994, "As the Third Millennium Draws Near," this letter challenges all Catholic people in the everyday practice of their faith. The pope acknowledges that in the first letter it was easy to name specific themes and suggest certain practices as he outlined a program of preparation for us Catholics as we looked towards the new millennium. Now that we are living in the new millennium, it appears more difficult to suggest some sort of schedule for a seemingly unending roll of future years. Not to be daunted, the pope sums up his approach in his call to contemplate the face of Christ, with the manifold ways that this face appears to us in all life's circumstances. He grants that he is not inventing some kind of new program, but rather looking afresh at the program found in the Gospels and in the living tradition of the church. What receives strong emphasi~ is the pope's desire for us to make our own a spirituality of communion. This phrase, spirituality of communion, the pope had identified in his 1994 ap6stolic letter, Vita consecrata, as describing the mission especially appropriate to Review for Religious members of consecrated-life institutes. No matter the charism that specifies the mission of particular religious lifeforms, the pope had requested that all men and women vowed in conse-crated life embrace a spirituality of communion. Religious were encouraged to consciously work at a communion spirituality as an essential part of the gospel spirituality which all share. This spir-ituality of communion needs to inform their community life and their mission. By his extension of the call to a spirituality of communion to others, John Paul II has not taken away his invitation to those living the consecrated lifeform to be grounded in a spirituality of communion. Proclaiming now that all Catholics have a respon-sibility to work at developing this spirituality of communion for our times, the pope underlines a special charge for those vowed in consecrated life to both educate and form others in the Catholic community to understand and live this spirituality of communion. He tells us that this effort will make the church "the home and school of communion." Such creative energy is a spirituality that enhances our awareness of the trinitarian God dwelling within us and embracing us with a divine life of communion. It is a spirituality that makes come alive our real-ization of the mystical Body in which we see our brothers and sisters truly living a life that is "part of us." It is a spirituality that brings us to see and appreciate the gifts of others not only as gifts from God to them, but also as gifts from God and them to us. It is a spirituality that teaches us how to make room for all our brothers and sisters, so that we truly exclude no one from the table of God our Father and accept what it means to bear one another's burdens. What is so often lacking in the services that are provided secularly (and perhaps we need to examine our own ministries too) is not the actual "body'-' of services but the "soul" people must put into those services. We must take any "mechanisms" of service and put a soul into them, a soul that gives them full meaning through fullness of communion. In a postmodern culture, a wise and holy man has proposed linking our Catholic growth in holiness with the special needs of our new millennium. The spirituality of communion he proposes is a privileged and relevant way of imitating Jesus, our incarnate and redeeming Lord. David L. Fleming Sy March-April 2001 CHRISTOPHER ROBINSON Feeding the Beast: Postmodern Anxiety, and Generational Challenges A little story in Charles Lamert's 1997 book on post-modernism seems pertinent to many current discussions on the past, present, and future of religious life: One fine morning the residents of a small village woke to find a very big but not unfriendly beast well settled in the center of their small town and mundane lives. Being by nature trusting and kind, the people repressed fear and welcomed the beast. In spite of its enormous height and girth, and the mass of its settled flesh, the beast posed no threats. All he did, in the most matter-of-fact way, was say "Feed me." The villagers complied. Upon devour-ing what he had been fed, he simply repeated his demand, without inflection, "Feed me." Eventually, without vote or complaint, feeding the beast came to be what the village was about.' Concern about the future of religious life and its unique contribution to the church has been around for as long as I can remember. It has become, for some of us, an all-too-real version of the village beast. Let me try to clarify just exactly what I mean. In the preface of her recent book Finding the Treasure, Sandra Schneiders says that "virtually every Christopher Robinson CM is completing a doctorate at Louvain with a focus on the theology of religious life. His address is Leopold I Straat 41; B-3000 Leuven; Belgium. Review for Religious question raised today leads directly into the issue of what religious life is and means.''2 The questions I raise here are directly related to what religious life actually is, as distinct from what religious may do. The question of meaning is related, as Schneiders shows, to the pervasive postmodernism in Western industrial countries. At least in the United States, this has affected the young people; they have been socialized from birth with a postmodern consciousness. Whether or not religious life in the West continues depends upon having a plausible description of it that is intelligible to those who are significantly affected by this consciousness. My hope is that either we can befriend these questions of being and meaning, our village beast, without constantly serving it or we can actually turn the tables. The village beast might be capable of feeding us. .What Is Our Village Beast? In the context in which I found it, the story of the not-unfriendly lumbering beast refers to the effect that some ques-tions of meaning have upon the people who entertain them: "Before long, it grows to become that which preoccupies, even defines, the villages.''3 Today many of us are preoccupied with the nature and meaning of religious life. The question of who we are and what meaning we offer to the church and the world is not a non-friendly one, even if it is consuming our energies. It is not non-friendly because postmodernism, the sensibility operative in the West, is not by its nature hostile. Though postmodernism has been defined in many ways and will continue to present itself as a sensibility worth studying, here I wish to highlight its more pos-itive attributes without discounting negative ones. Postmodernism is playful, it deligt]ts in the unique, it is non-linear. It is suspicious of universals and of supposed evolutionary trajectories that are bound to arrive at bigger and better things. For it, there is no self-evident center of all meaning. Postmodern sen-sibility distrusts global institutionalization and celebrates nonuni-formity. Intrinsically pluralistic, it rejects exclusivist claims and triumphalist truth statements. Schneiders emphasizes three postmodern characteristics that are necessary for locating religious life in the contemporary con-text. She says that postmodernism is "a child of and a protest against modernity.''4 In other words, postmodern sensibility rejects the unifying yet reductionist approach of modernity that subjects March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast reality to what can be proven, manipulated, or categorized by an objective scientific method. Postmodernism is radically conscious of how science has both enhanced human life and brought enor-mous risks to it and the environment. It insists that modernity has not lived up to its claims of creating a better world through rationality. Second, Schneiders points out that the postmodern con-sciousness has eroded or simply refused to acknowledge the foun-dations upon which many modern projects have risen: "Who is to say that any construction of reality, any set of beliefs or mode of behavior, has universal validity and therefore any claim on me?''s On the negative side, this position means that postmodern thought is relativistic. On the positive side, postmodern thought has effec-tively eroded the foundations of ethnic hatred, anthropocentrism, sexism, and so forth. Third, postmodernism rejects the idea that there is a grand story, a metanarrative, that can provide universal meaning for all people of all times in all places. The metanarrative purports to present the ideal of what all people should be; persons who are not in the story are hounded until they come around to the group's way of thinking. Postmodernism's suspicion of the grand story subverts such use of force to make all people over into a general-ized image, an image devoid of particularity or difference. On the negative side, postmodern consciousness may produce alienation because no acceptable common story bridges the distances between people.6 Meaning and Being Our village beast is more complicated than the brief question "Who are you and what do you mean?" The beast is this ques-tion as asked by a postmodern consciousness or sensibility. The question threatens because many religious congregations and communities (if not all) are firmly rooted in modernity, not post-modernity. Consequently, the beast appears threatening but is not unfriendly. The postmodern question is really not unfriendly because postmodernism is not necessarily antagonistic and may be favor-able. For example, postmoderns are captivated by the unusual, and what could be more unusual in the contemporary world than a life characterized by celibacy? Postmoderns reject the negative Review for Religious and sometimes disastrous effects of metanarratives because meta-narratives envision all people as the same. Religious men and women have a similar view that often puts them on the margins of society for rejecting metanarrative rhetoric that would keep the alienated far from the resources they require for self-actual-ization and fulfillment. Such rhetoric includes the opinions that "if they would only work hard enough they wouldn't be poor" and "if they would stay at home and have children they wouldn't be harassed." Particularly in the Western world, certainly in the history of the United States, religious communities have consis-tently promoted human well-being through education, healthcare, and social service regardless of the creed of those receiving assistance. What could be more postmodern than that? Religious often find themselves in prophetic positions in relation to the univer-sal church. Such elements of decentralization are, in a way, the human side of the gospel message lived out through the charisms of particular communities made up of particular persons. The explicit goal, obviously, is not to decentralize the church. But the human face, voice, and touch provided by dedicated religious create a space in which people hear the gospel in unique and specific ways. Such efforts and understandings of decentralization are postmodern. So what is the problem? The postmod-ern phenomenon has entered our lives and, in a manner neither unfriendly nor always unattractive, asks: Who are you and what do you mean? The problem is that we continue to feed the beast, this lumbering postmodern.collection of con-tradictor~ images, with rationalizations that stem from modernity. Of course, feed it or not, it is not going to go away. The beast story describes the lives of the villagers as mun-dane. Postmoderns have critiqued modernity for exactly that, being boring and mundane. Universals are boring. Nondifferentiation has no room for distinctive and entertaining attributes. Whether or not the perception is true, the postmodern West sees religious men and women as being just like everyone else, and so we are largely Postmodernism rejects the idea that there is a grand story, a metanarrative, that can provide universal meaning for all people of all times in all places. March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast invisible. We have done a good job of assimilating and affirming the world. We live individual lives in individual ways in individual spaces. Postmodernism consciously ignores anything that is "the same" in favor, of the new, distinct, unusual, entertaining, distracting, and so forth. There is a dangerous .and antihuman element to this that includes consumerism, materialism, trivial distraction. There is also something of positive value. I have not claimed and would not and cannot claim that, because of postmodern consciousness, religious need to create distinctive-lifestyle enclaves that provoke the curiosity and interest of the others in society. To keep the postmodern sensi-bility entertained, we would have to have general chapters and assemblies adopting new gimmicks every six months. The question of our invisibility is, however, a serious one. Because postmod-ernism disdains rationalistic answers, seeing them as dank mush-rooms emerging from metanarratives, it is not going to wait for an explanation from us about our lifestyle. As soon as a religious begins, "Well, you have to understand that once upon a time the Second Vatican Council created a spirit of openness to the world that we as religious had forgotten," the postmodern mind closes down. Even for the educated young adult Catholic, Vatican II is "that great thing that happened sometime in the middle of the last century. Have you read it? The language is hopelessly gender exclusive." The revolutionary event that altered the course of religious life is now considered a metanar-rative from a time long past. Add to this that the same Vatican is now the source of documents like DominusJesus that remind every-one that there is only one true and universal Christian church. " Truth claims aside, such statements sound to the postmodern mind like metanarratives. Postmodernism is fast paced and will not wait for us to explain endlessly our being and meaning through solemn discourses, province plans, and mission statements. This is particularly true when the observable reality does not live up to the written ideology. We appear as more of "the same." Modernity Is Still Operational There is a certain logic to keeping our roots in modernity. First, our charisms, congregations, communities, and reforms are based on great stories, not the least of which are the gospel nar-ratives. Second, it is Vatican II that ushered us into the modern Review for Religious world. Ironically, it did so just as the world was on the brink of postmodernity. The call to return to the charism of the founder resulted in a great deal of historical research and theological reflection. Much of this was dependent upon the historical-crit-ical method that typifies modernity. Third, through our com-mitted lives we are striving in God's name to make the world a better place for everyone and everything. Without nuance this can be translated by radical postmoderns into a universalizing, nonparticularizing amalgamation of all peo-ple into one standard of living, one creed, and one political system. So the village beast that has lumbered into our midst is the postmodern question of being and meaning. It is a not-unfriendly thing, but it is a very intimidating, beastly thing. From the modernist perspective, reli-gious and their communities have welcomed the beast into their villages. It has been ana-lyzed, considered, weighed, measured, and .continuously fed with the best sociological, historical, and systematic information in the hope that it will remain docile or maybe even go away. But our numbers continue to shrink, morale among the membership is precarious, and questions about our congregations; future often preoccupy at least some of us. The popular perception today might be that feeding this beast is what we are all about. It seems we have'not found a solid faith-based solution to the vocation crisis through the human sciences--which, to the modern mind, have always served humanity well. Postmodernism is a sensibiiity. The West itself still operates according to the rationalism of the modern era and will most likely continue to do so, with some revision. And so we religious are challenged to find our own methods of drawing together the best of both expressions of reality: postmodern sensibility and the dependability of a reformed modernity. This is not as difficult as we may imagine--given our access to resources, the security of our traditions, the creativity among us, and the presence of the Spirit of God, who called us into being in the first place. The challenge, however, is to discover how the village beast, the ques-tion of being and meaning, has begun to create internal conflicts The village beast that has lumbered into our midst is the postmodern question of being and meaning. t23 -o- ~lqarcb-Aptql 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast within congregations and communities, particularly between moderns and postmoderns. The Village Beast Is a Member of the Community The postmodern questions about meaning and being will not simply disappear. There are two ways of dealing with the ques-tions, two ways of feeding and befriending the village beast. Oversimplifying for brevity's sake, I would say that postmodernism is present in religious life in two different forms. Religious over forty have assimilated surprising amounts of postmodern sensi-bility, and religious under forty were practically born with a post-modern consciousness. Accordingly, many believe that the vocation crisis is a solvable problem while others see it as a sign that reli-gious life is incomplete or inadequate for the present age. These are modern assessments. We are working against ourselves if we seek answers in modernity when we ourselves have assimilated or have been socialized by postmodern sensibilities. We will not accept modern answers if we are postmoderns ourselves. Community leadership, usually held by persons over forty, seeks modern rational avenues for vocation initiatives or charism rein-terpretation while living mostly postmodern lives themselves. Being born into the postmodern culture is distinct from assim-ilating it. Se~in D. Sammon FSM, in his "Last Call For Religious Life," expresses well the internal and external collisions occurring in religious life between Baby Boomers and the Thirteeners, those who constitute the thirteenth generation produced by the United States.7 Others have referred to this cohort as Generation X or Gen-X, although Thirteeners is a more accurate term for those born between 1961 and 1981. Identifying the tensions that exist between generations is, I believe, as important as identifying the darker side of the postmodernism that has crept into religious life through assimilation. Postmodernism as Assimilated The Future of Religious Life in the United States (FORUS), a study by Miriam Ukeritis CSJ and David Nygren CM, alerted congre-gations to many things, two of which I will emphasize here. First, the data showed that many individual religious have attitudes and lifestyles, values and behaviors, that reflect cultural assimilation. Review for Religious This cultural assimilation is not necessarily indicated by the clothes we wear or the style of housing we have adopted, but it is observable in attitudes. The individualism indicated by the FORUS data in areas of career, self-determination, and affective-support systems reflects current postmodern sensibilities. Many religious find that their ministerial careers, whether parochial, diocesan, or institutional, require dedication and energy that prevent their participation in projects and activities within their congregation,s Their primary relationships begin to reflect their ministerial setting. In this, Baby Boomers and Thirteeners share a similar postmodern attitude. Sammon notes, "Most Thirteeners feel that the people with whom you have day-to-day contact and share meaningful conversations and a sense of closeness consti-ruie family. They trust their friendships over all other relation-ships.'' 9 FORUS indicates that day-to-day contact with their community is, for many, minimal or nonexistent. Assimilation is not necessarily a good or a bad element pre-sent in contemporary religious life. It is data. The interesting thing to consider, I think, is that many religious over the age of forty have accepted various attitudes and lifestyles that reflect postmodern culture and yet continue to live under a rule that assumes only the modern. For example, religious who live alone and work diligently within a nontraditional ministry might, in spite of efforts, find it difficult to follow various aspects of their constitutions, such as communal prayer, daily Eucharist, annual retreat, and general chapters. True to postmodern sensibilities, the same religious might also defend their right to exercise their ministry in ways that elude strict modern principles. They do not abide by their constitutions or statutes or provincial norms with exactitude because, in their assessment of their specific ministerial context, it simply cannot be done. In other words, the postrnodern question "What are you and what do you mean?" cannot simply be answered by handing over the constitutions. Members of teaching communities (founded to teach the chil-dren of immigrants) who are now pastoral administrators cannot point handily to a founding story to explain their doing this particular ministry. The members each have different, unique stories that are loosely connected to their community's charism as reinterpreted by its mission statement over the past twenty or forty years. This, in my view, is evidence o.f postmodern assimilation. I25-- Marcb-Ap~ql 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding. the Beast L Postmodernism as Culturally Intuited Add to this the complicated problem of generational corn-munication. What those over forty have assimilated through expe-rience and reflection, those born after 1961 know intuitively. Their entire way of interacting with the world is steeped in postmod-ernism. Sammon clarifies this issue when discussing the current tensions between the Baby Boomer generation and Thirteeners: Many midlifers judge Thirteeners to be a disappointing ¯ bunch: ill-informed, intellectually dull, politically inactive, religiously conservative, and hopelessly materialistic. [Thirteener~] have grown tired of hearing their foiebears take credit for things they believe their elders did not do: invent rock and roll, start the civil-rights movement, stop the war in Vietnam, reform the Catholic Church single-hand-edly with Vatican II. The vast majority of Thirteeners ques-tion the self-perception of a number of boomers that they and their middle-aged compatriots have been the most creative, idealistic, morally conscious generation in the his-tory of the nation and church, if not the world.~° Those in midlife have assimilated certain postmodern sensi-bilities without having been to the manner born. This is why their sense of individualism and meaning can be distinguished from that of Thirteeners. Many midlife religious, looking back on their for-mative years with love-hate nostalgia, may find themselves won-dering why their younger compatriots have not had to work very hard to get to where they are: The latter were not put through rigorous formation practices, tests of blind obedience in trivial matters, the wearing of strange garb; they have not feared the imposition of some penance for having a particular friendship as we were! Such memories and ~eflections would indicate, to a degree, the older generation's dependence upon a grand story or metanarrative. The younger generation have not "earned their place"!--which is an assessment based on modern values, not post-modern ones. On the other hand, midlifers, with their assimilated postmodernism, refuse to alter certain lifestyle patterns that appear to be departures from the constitutional religious life they still see value in. Thirteeners are genuinely suspicious of any all-encompass-ing story that is supposed to somehow explain reality for them: What lies behind this aversion is [Thirteeners'] opposition to the sixties idealism of their older brothers and sisters. Young people of the 1960s won many gains for those who previ- Review for Religious ously had no voice. The decade failed, however, to achieve its promises. One generation's gains eventually became the losses of another. With their high ideals, baby boomers (born between 1943 and 1960) undertook organized social actions--but with what results for the generation that followed? An AIDS epidemic rather than sexual liberation; nuclear anxiety rather than peace; skyrocketing college tuition instead of low-cost education. Xers quickly came to the conclusion that they had been left with a culture in crisis,n Tension and Deeper Irony There is yet a deeper irony contained within this tension. Efforts in the 1960s to raise social consciousness were truly suc-cessful. Now it is quite common for parishes and parochial and public schools to engage in ~fforts on behalf of the poor and dis-possessed, the underrepresented populations, and also to be con-scious of global justice issues. The irony inherent in this dynamic is simple: Thirteeners are not interested in religious life for the good works the previous generation did accomplish and still strives to accomplish. Their postmodern minds and hearts take their awareness of the need for ecohuman well-being for granted and assume that efforts for such well-being will continue. What the Thirteeners want and seek is the spirituality and the communal life that have consistently been the essential meaning of conse-crated religious life, whether contemplative, monastic, mendicant, or apostolic. Sammon says, "Xers ultimately have a yearning, both implic-idy and explicitly, for an almost mystical encounter with the human and the divine. They find the religious more readily in personal experience and regard their own experience as superior to the accounts of others or truths handed down by way of creed or cus-tom.'' 12 A ramification of this sensibility is that Thirteeners who are currently members of or interested in some religious congre-gation remain or join because 'of who the community are for them, not what works they perform. This does not mean that the work is not important or attractive or life-giving or God-sent. But rarely does a community member do a ministry that could not be done without the benefit of religious life. The focus on practical purpose is a trait of modernity that the older generation of religious retain. On this front, there can be little agreement between Baby Boomers March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast and Thirteeners, both of whom exhibit the extremes and incon-sistencies of their cohort characteristics. The difficult task, in my opinion, is to admit that the post-modern village beast is in our midst, in the form of the tension between the assimilated postmodernism of the Boomers and the socializing postmodernism that has enveloped and permeated the Thirteeners from the day of their birth. It is present in the ways that religious have--for forty years and counting--been assimi-lating various cultural sensibilities such as individualism and careerism. It is present each time younger religious hear with skep-ticism of the solidly valuable accomplishments their elders are justly credited with. The postmodern questions of meaning and being are not merely coming at us from the larger society. They are a part of who we are. I mentioned earlier that many of us, of several generations, are concerned and sometimes even preoccupied with the question of our future as religious and members of vowed institutes. Our future relates directly to the question of who we are and what we mean in the contemporary world. The several generations approach and answer these questions differently. Taming this beast so that it does not define us--becoming what we are all about, becoming our very identity--requires two things. We need to understand explicitly and clearly the culture in which we find our-selves without making knee-jerk negative judgments, and we need to engage in unavoidably difficult conversations about genera-tional tensions. The Media as Language In contemporary American culture, postmodern sensibilities are inculcated most clearly through the mass media. The obvious places to start identifying postmodern tendencies are television, popular music (especially so-called alternative radio stations), movies, videos, and cyberspace. This may appear to be old news. But I mean more than simply watching or listening and letting a previously adopted metanarrative do the interpreting. We should not approach the media with dismissive attitudes. The media are the languages of the culture. Languages themselves are not flawed, unjust, shallow, or materialistic, though much that fills the media is all of the above. Still, there is a message to be heard beneath the glitz and glitter, the shallow sounds and images. In recent years the Review for Religious number of films without a "happily ever after" ending perhaps indicates a low-grade belief that the metanarrative that brings everything neatly together in the end is over. Many popular songs contain spiritual images, perhaps indicating that Thirteeners and their children are not as materialistic as people imagine. Many websites come up if one types in the word God, too many to inves-tigate in a single sitting, and they run the gamut of traditions and expressions. If we understand the media somewhat, or at least are alert to the undercurrent messages they may be communicating, we can begin to tame the question of meaning among ourselves. Patricia Wittberg SC has claimed that religious life's attractiveness for potential members relates directly to how well we understand and con-verse about our specific culture's areas of social discontinuity. Her claim, supported by others such as Sammon, is that Thirteeners particu-larly are looking for community and spiritual-ity. This seeking shows perhaps the deepest anguish of Western industrial culture and calls attention to the dark side of postmodernity. On the other hand, specific works of religious communities are directed at poverty, abandonment, alienation, and other symptoms of a society's anguish--but such symptoms are not the anguish itself. This anguish is expressed by a society's operative language; in our case, this is the media.'3 Understanding postmodernity involves engaging the media. One example among many is the ability to live and relate vicari-ously or virtually. In this world of what has been called hyperre-ality, the communication accomplished through media images is perceived as more real than the things themselves: reality is what is communicated in this hyperreal or superreal way. Charles Lamert, noting the effect on viewers of a movie like Dead Man Walking, asks: "What is the power of the movies to evoke deep feelings in such an artificial environment, bad popcorn and all? Somehow this is a medium that by projecting images before us causes us to project ourselves into those images, drawing out feel-ing from our unconsciousness . When a movie is over we leave, and leave behind the feelings."~4 In other words, because our primary means of gaining infor-mation and making sense of our culture is the media, our sensibility Understanding postmodernity involves engaging the media. March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast might last only as long as what is immediately before us. The feelings have been real. Television sight-and-sound images of Balkan ethnic cleansing produced real horror, genuine sadness and empathy. But, simply by watching CNN, we cannot say we have experienced ethnic cleansing or known anyone who has. We do, however, tend to base our belief about the world and our involvement in it on these feelings evoked by real experiences that in fact we have not experienced. Consequently, we are living virtually. Engagement and Risk Virtual living can be translated into virtual ministry if one is not careful, and so it is essential to be aware of this dynamic in order to respond to society's deepest anguish, recognizing that longings for the spiritual or the transcendent, and for a real and not merely a virtual community, are true 10ngings deserving of true ful-fillment, not virtual fulfillment. I recently removed my name from a list-serv so as to distance myself from the temptation to live vir-tually- isolated from the real. One list member wrote, "All of you are my community." Of the more than one thousand subscribers, I have never consciously met a single one in person. The feelings shared, the stories told, and the wisdom exchanged were valid and also hyperreal. I was personally moved by many of the stories and certainly prayed for many who requested prayers. The dark side of postmodernity, however, its alienation factor, is in the inevitable realization that this "community" of mine consists of more than a thousand persons with whom I have never had a face-to-face con-versation and never shared a meal. Religious life offers people real, not hyperreal, community and a real context in which to explore spirituality. From the mod-ern perspective, the ability to connect and interact electronically with thousands of people is a miracle. For those born into post-modernism, it simply is not real and cannot provide real commu-nity. Perhaps it is now time to ask whether offering invitations to religious life's real community may not itself be a valid ministry-- as valid as any other social-welfare ministry! My own congregation has been reminding my confreres and me that, as a society of apos-tolic life, we live in common for the sake of the mission. What I am suggesting is that, in light of postmodern questions of mean-ing and being, we notice that common life itself is a mission in a culture that hungers for real community. Review for Religious We can come to a clear understanding of this culture and its anguish only if we understand its language. We cannot use the various forms of media well enough to change the image of con-secrated life in the popular mind if we do not speak this language. It is futile to use postmodern media to send modern messages. Resisting the temptations inherent in the media culture (such as virtual living) and simultaneously becoming fluent in mediaspeak are the means to make the postmodern beast begin feeding us. Intergenerational Dialogue This leads us to the complicated issue of intergenerational dia-logue. We feed thevillage beast through our intergenerational struggles. Baby Boomers have indeed assimilated much of the media culture, but have done it selectively. Thirteeners, on the other hand, learned to communicate under the broad umbrella of the media; for them it is not a learned or second language. Consequently, differences in communication become apparent when identity and meaning are discussed in relation to the vocation crisis. If we cannot in some way formulate a cohesive self-image and rationale for existence among ourselves, no amount of media expo-sure can change the pattern of decreasing membership. I believe that for some communities and congregations, if not most, the intergenerational challenge is greater than the reality of overall diminishing numbers. Sammon states, "So great is the suspicion about Xers among a few midlife priests, sisters, and brothers that they would go so far as to risk. the future of their congregations rather than admit a significant number of them to membership. Xers in religious life find their situation equally oppressive.''~s The generations share the suspicion equally. Boomers accuse younger religious of conservatism, materialism, and an absence of passion about social issues. Thirteeners are weary of being measured against a supposed Vatican II norm of authenticity, namely, the Boomers' sense that their own Catholic understanding of the contemporary world is better than their elders' understanding of it; the Thirteeners are also weary of the ineffective ideological psychobabble they perceive in many for-mation programs. It is important, then, to find concrete ways in which both groups can genuinely share each other's wisdom. Recalling Patricia Wittberg's use of social-movement theory to examine religious life, one can say that a group or a community March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast succeeds when it speaks to a specific discontinuity present in soci-ety. For Boomers, discontinuities include poverty, oppression, dis-crimination, sexism, and racism. Baby Boomers, having lived their formative years during an age of idealism and social activism, speak well to these discontinuities, tl~ese signs of deeper anguish. Thirteeners, having spent their formative years recovering from effects of some misplaced 1960s idealism, have unavoidably embod-ied the anguish itself in their longing for transcendence and com-munity. The original anguish and its subsequent effects are elements of the same reality. Schneiders says: "The distinguishing characteristic of reli-gious life (in any of its forms) is the exclusive commitment to the God-quest that precludes any other primary life commitment, such as that to spouse and family, profession, or project . For religious the love of Jesus, unmediated by any other primary com-mitment, is the constitutive factor in life.''16 Whether one's energy is centered on social discontinuities themselves or on consequences of efforts to deal with them, the primary commitment to God in Jesus Christ through the Spirit provides common ground. Schneiders goes on to explain that the fundamental call to religious life belongs to the nature of charism on the first level. This call as "lived in and through the love and direct service of the neighbor" belongs to the nature of charism on its second level.17 While it would be scientifically inaccurate or simplistic to divide the Baby Boomer and Thirteener generations into clear categories, I tend to believe that one generation can more properly be described as on one level, the other on the other. Schneiders locates religious life on the margins of culture: The relation of the religious to culture is one of voluntary marginality rather than total absorption. By not undertaking one's species role as reproducer of the race, by not partici-pating in a capitalistic economy by the acquisition or use of wealth for personal purposes, by not exercising political power for individual goals, the religious situates herself at the edges of the systems that make the culture function. From this marginal position, religious share in the "hermeneutical advantage of the poor," the vision of the sociocultural sys-tem from the standpoint of those who are not primary ben-eficiaries of that system but often its victims.~8 In other words, the me.aning of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience is the site from which to begin genera-tional dialogue. Whether initially motivated by a longing for corn- Review for Religious munity and transcendence or by a love for justice and for the socially disadvantaged, both Baby Boomer and Thirteener reli-gious are characterized by their voluntary marginality in rela-tionship to the culture that produced them. This is common ground, which we call the evangelical counsels. The Unity between Postmodernism and Modernity My point here is that discovering the common ground between generations provides the space in which to discover the other's world. This is of utmost importance, given these genera-tions' responsibilities for taking religious life into the future. There are two ways of approaching this common ground. The prophetic character of Baby Boomers, which gets them involved in the social activism, corresponds well to Schneiders's views of the centrality of the vow of consecrated celibate chastity. The existential angst of the Thirteener generation corresponds well to Michael J. Himes's reflections on the vow of poverty last year in this journal.~9 Granted that trying to offer a clear-cut typology is risky at best, it can serve as a point of departure for some interesting discussion. The particular strengths of the Baby Boomer generation and of the Thirteener generation are all-too-able to keep the ques-tion of being and meaning at bay and thus to keep anxiety about the future our primary concern. These strengths are likewise capa-ble of eliminating any future whatsoever for many religious con-gregations. But let us look more closely. Schneiders says, "The constitutive feature of religious life as a state of life, in other words, that which both organizes it as a form of life in the church and distinguishes it from other forms, is lifelong consecrated celibacy." She adds, "Celibate solitude is the root of immediacy to God as a mode of Christian experience and of social marginality as a position in the world which, oper-ating together, ground religious life as a prophetic lifeform in the church.''2° During the renewal efforts that followed the Second Vatican Council, many religious congregations and communities took being prophetic as that which distinguishes religious life. Engagement with the world had been motivated by the zeal to continue the ministry of Jesus Christ, particularly among the most abandoned. In order to be prophetic, religious entered into study, discernment, and activity that placed them truly on the far margins of contemporary society and away from the large institutions which Mard~-.4pril 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding tbe Beast had previously defined or identified them. This was in line with the social activism of the generation and found support from many quarters. The movement was into the world, into social justice, into solidarity with the materially poor and into a variety of direct-service ministries. How does this connect with Schneiders's views on consecrated celibacy? First, one's commitment to the God-quest is clear within such a consecration, at least theoretically. Second, making Jesus Christ the center of one's life includes loving the people whom Jesus loved, particularly the most abandoned. Finally, the prophetic witness of consecrated celibacy needs to be concrete and incar-national. This appealed to a generation that had not been as close to the breakdown of marriage as the Thirteeners were. For them the consecration to celibacy involved a far greater prophetic com-mitment than to marriage. There is a twofold dynamic operating here. On the one hand, committing oneself to God stirs up zeal for justice and people's welfare, and, on the other, seeing the image of God in those who are served stirs up zeal for the commitment. Combining Strengths The Baby Boomer generation has been and is an active, "doing" generation. It believes that it can make a difference and is willing to live consecrated celibacy for the sake of those whose lives are improved by their commitment. The vow enables the religious to serve more people expeditiously and well. This, in a sense, touches again upon the issue of modernity. Baby Boomers were socialized within a modern world that was on a continuum towards better and better things. The utility of the vow is consis-tent with this mentality. For its part, the Thirteen generation is characterized by its existential poverty. This is altogether distinct from the issues of either material poverty or affluence. By existential poverty I mean that the Thirteener generation has been given no great social quest, does not believe in unlimited linear progress (because modernity has failed it), and perceives that it has not contributed greatly to the larger social reality. Sammon claims that Thirteeners appear to be "the cleanup crew of this century: whatever conse-quences America must face, they'll bear the brunt of it.''21 The resulting attitude constitutes a certain existential poverty. This generation has no grand story to tell, it has grown up living virtual Review for Religious instead of actual reality, and it has been left to confront the future with something less than hope. Members of this generation have experienced a great deal of death by way of suicide, drugs, and local violence, such as drive-by or school shootings. Although often caricatured as a materialistic, spoiled genera-tion, middle-class Thirteeners were provided with a great number of things by the previous generation, who considered such accu-mulation a sign of success. They watched as success ripped fami-lies apart, leaving them the first victims of what some have called America's divorce epidemic. Sammon states, "They are., the first generation of Americans whom other people took pills not to have. From the very beginning of their lives, this message was passed along to them: Children are avoidable or, in the case of abortion, disposable.''22 These social perceptions include an intuitive sense of the poverty of the human condition. Material well-being is a secondary issue. Michael J. Himes has proposed that "poverty is the key value in the vows . It is to recognize that there are radical limits on me.''23 Thirteeners have internalized the entire postmodern critique of modernity's limitations. Regarding relationships, Thirteeners draw on their experience of watching their parents divorce. Regarding beliefs, Thirteeners have carried the brunt of religious pluralism, picking up the notion that every belief is as good as the next because none can be proven and all have been touched by some kind of scandal. Regarding institutions, ,they are aware that the social-security system may ~ail and leave them without its benefits; they know that a good university education may not provide a lifelong upwardly bound career. In their perception of the world, everything is suspect because everything is radically limited. I would suggest that Thirteeners, through their sense of rad-ical existential poverty, have something important to contribute to vowed or consecrated life. It is no wonder that they turn instinc-tively towards community and spirituality. They do not appear to be seeking definitive answers because they would not believe them anyway. But their ability to live with ambiguity without idealism provides a different edge to prophecy. As Himes says, "Your life is a public witness to the fact that unfulfillment is what is character- The Thirteen generation is characterized by its existential poverty. March-April 2001 ,Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast istic of being a human being.''24 Fo~: the Thirteener who has made the God-quest her primary life-commitment, the clear message is that only God provides fulfillment, not the promises of modernity or the fleeting, noncommittal character of postmodernism. So what does feeding the village beast have to do with the above generalizations? Those who feel an affinity with Schneiders's sense of consecrated celibacy can say, "I am a person whose pri-mary affective life-commitment revolves entirely around Jesus Christ. Because of this, I continue to do what Jesus did in order to announce the good news to the poor." Those who resonate with Himes's view can say, "I am a person whose primary affective life-commitment revolves entirely around Jesus Christ, who taught us that only God can satisfy the deepest of human longings. I gladly live a life proclaiming this message, particularly to those who are most abused by the lies of materialism and the false belief that it can provide fulfillment." These two essential stances can help keep beastly postmodern anxiety at bay and not allow our lives to be consumed by obsession about our future--or about whose vision of the future is most accurate and correct! The challenge, then, is to find ways of sharing equally valid expressions of our primary life-commitment. One emphasis is no less valid or worthy than the other; both of them result from generational experiences, perceptions, and worldviews. We can begin honestly and peacefully to identify in ourselves and in one another which tendency manifests itself in our lives together, together in our communities and in our ministries within the larger church and world. No One Answer From the perspective of modernity, we are challenged to come together to discuss the constituent factors of our form of life, par-ticularly as they are embodied in ourselves. From the postmodern perspective, we cannot allow one emphasis or one manifestation to be considered the grand story, the metanarrative which will solve all problems. There is no one answer, there is no universal solution, and in a sense there is nothing to be repaired. As Schneiders points out, religious life is a lifeform, an organic reality that has the abil-ity to grow, develop, change, and move through space and time. I have covered a great deal of territory in this reflection. It began by identifying a dynamic that is operative in many congre- Review for Religious gations and communities, namely, a preoccupation with our future. One of the reasons that we are confronted by this village beast is the presence, in different degrees in two generations, of a post-modern sensibility, a sensibility most clearly evident in contem-porary society's operative language, the media. The postmodern question of meaning and being presents itself not only from outside our community boundaries but also within the community itself. The Baby Boomers retain the idealism of their modern upbringing, but have indeed assimilated selectively some aspects of the postmodern sensibility. Thirteeners, on the other hand, were socialized into postmodernism from birth. Consequently, the question of meaning and being takes on different characteristics for the two generations. In order to stop being menaced by challenges that our future presents, I believe that all the generations in religious life, par-ticularly Baby Boomers and Thirteeners, need to discover the common ground of their basic life-commitment. I believe that the language used in this discovery will indicate that the prophetic activism surrounding the idea of consecrated celibacy, as out-lined by Sandra M. Schneiders, can peacefully coexist with the language of existential human poverty, as outlined by Michael J. Himes. The question about our future may lumber around and not go away altogether. This not unfriendly village beast may continue to say, "Feed me." But feeding it must not be what we are all about. Notes J Charles Lamert, Postmodernism Is Not What You Think (Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers, 1997), p. 5. 2 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000). 3 Lamert, Postmodernism, p. 51 4 Schneiders, Finding, p. 111. 5 Schneiders, Finding, p. 113. 6 See Schneiders, Finding, p. 113. 7 See Sefin D. Sammon FMS, "Last Call for Religious Life," Human Development 20, no. 1 (Spring 1999): 12-27. 8 David J. Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Westport, Conn.: Praeger Publishers, 1993), p. 158. March-April 2001 Robinson ¯ Feeding the Beast 9 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 15. t0 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 17. " Sammon, "Last Call," p. 17. 12 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 16. 13 Patricia Wittberg SC, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), pp. 81-85; Sammon, "Last Call," p. 20. 14 Lamert, Postmodernism, pp. 29-30. 15 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 17. 16 Schneiders, Finding, p. 313. J7 Schneiders, Finding, p. 314. 18 Schneiders, Finding, p. 327. 19 Michael J. Himes, "Returning to Our Ancestral Lands," Review for Religious 59, no. 1 (January-February 2000): 21. 20 Schneiders, Finding, p. 129. 2, Sammon, "Last Call," p. 16. 22 Sammon, "Last Call," p. 16. 23Himes, "Returning," p. 21. 24Himes, "Returning," p. 22. In a Time of Trial In my Friday-grief I seat myself by your shrouded body in the dark stone-stopped tomb while I await the sudden trembling of the earth, the harsh scraping at the entrance, the rustle of spice-scented linens, and know that I can now step out with you into the sun-drenched dawn of an Alleluia-day. Franklin Cullen CSC Review for Religious DORIS GOTTEMOELLER I Community and Communion: Making the Connections p~.pe John Paul II speaks of some aspects of the Eucharist in ta consecrata, his postsynodal apostolic exhortation on the consecrated life: By its very nature the Eucharist is at the center of the con-secrated life, both for individuals and for communities. It is the daily viaticum and source of the spiritual life for the indi-vidual and for the institute. By means of the Eucharist all consecrated persons are called to live Christ's paschal mystery, uniting themselves to him by offering their own lives to the Father through the Holy Spirit. (§95) These words of the pope describe an ideal that seems far from the daily experience of most religious I know. It is not that we do not affirm the ideal. But the realities of community and liturgy seldom come together in the life-giving way envisioned in Vita consecrata. The reasons are many and complicated, and the solutions will require imagination and passionate desire. Here I want to explore some factors that inhibit the integration of Eucharistic devotion and community life, to identify some values common to both, and to name some steps we can take to reanimate our communal and Eucharistic life. First let us describe the present reality of Eucharistic practice among religious. I will focus in this section only on common, Doris Gottemoeller RSM presented this paper first at the Eucharistic Congress in Washington, D.C., on 7 October 2000. She is Senior Vice President for Mission and Values Integration at Catholic Healthcare Partners; 615 Elsinore Place; Cincinnati, Ohio 45202. March-April 2001 Gottemoeller * Community and Communion L J Religious community is meant to be a tissue of daily relationships, the context in which we realize all the other dimensions of our vowed life. observable practice. Let us begin by looking at large community houses such as motherhouses and retirement communities. Many of them still have the benefit of a daily Mass, but a significant number can no longer count on the daily presence of a priest. Since these sisters tend to be old and infirm and unable to go out to a parish, they substitute a communion service on the days a priest is not available. Sisters in smaller local communities seldom live in traditional parochial convents; even if they minister in a parish, they may well choose to attend Mass at a different parish. Where two or more sisters live together but work in different ministries, they may well attend different parishes. In short, the practice of a community attending Mass together is becoming increasingly rare. A few sisters minister in settings too far from a resident priest to expect to attend Mass more than once a week, if that often. In some cases, what counts toward the choice of where to worship is convenient location, convenient time, and a congenial celebrant. At times anonymity and speed are the operative criteria for selection. Add to this general picture of behav-ior some frequently expressed thoughts and feelings: "I cannot attend Mass daily and have it be a real celebration. IfI go less frequently, each cel-ebration becomes more meaningful." "My ministry requires me to work long hours, and there is no liturgy that fits into my sched-ule." "The Church's exclusion of women from presiding at liturgy and the use of exclusive language in readings and prayers make Mass attendance too painful for me to endure." I make no attempt to quantify these practices or feelings--only to note that they are part of the experience of at least some religious and therefore, in a sense, part of the experience of us all. What about the experience of community life today? Elsewhere I have suggested that our inability to be clear about what community living means or what it calls us to is our Achilles' heel.' Even raising the topic provokes equivocation, defensiveness, rationalizations. Everyone affirms community as an ideal, but few agree on how to realize it in practice. In the same vein, we are Review for Religious not clear on how it relates to, shapes, or determines our practice of the evangelical counsels and ministry. Going deeper, we have not chaJlenged ourselves to articulate a theology or spirituality of com-munity living adequate for our time. In the complicated process of adapting our way of life to modern and postmodern realities over recent decades, we have been clearer about what we were dis-carding than about what we were setting up as a corporate choice. Hence we find it difficult to say with any clarity or assurance what we are inviting potential and new members to share. Given our uncertainties and ambivalence about Eucharistic devotion and community living, it is no wonder that the ideal of Eucharist-centered consecrated life, for both individuals and com-munities, seems a dream still to be accomplished. The foregoing sketch of the present situation may sound somewhat pessimistic. But there is, I believe, a renewed hunger among religious today for authentic expressions of the deepest meaning of our life, and so these considerations are important. I suggest that there is a powerful analogy between Eucharistic life and religious community life that can shed light on both and show between them a common spirituality. The analogy has four dimensions. The Word Is Made Flesh Religious community and the Eucharist are incarnational. There is a physicality about each that is intrinsic to its nature. Our Eucharistic belief and piety embrace the concept of the Real Presence: that under the appearances of bread and wine the whole Christ is truly, really, and substantially present. If the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity had not assumed human nature, human soul and body, there would have been no Last Supper and no enduring Eucharistic presence today. The accidents of bread and wine are able to be seen and eaten; they are tangible. We know that religious community is also tangible: it is a social experience in which real people, through their physical senses, relate to one another in significant and mutually supportive ways. Sometimes we speak of community as an abstraction, one that is easy to affirm because it makes no demands on us. But reli-gious community is meant to be a tissue of daily relationships, the context in which we realize all the other dimensions of our vowed life: prayer, poverty, celibacy, obedience, mission. Take poverty as an example: not only do we share our income in common, but we March-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion also discern together how much is enough, whether for the present living situation or for future needs. Living religious community requires interacting in significant ways with companions whom we can see, address, challenge, praise, forgive, and even embrace. A priest celebrating Mass alone, without the company of an altar server or any other worshiper, is an anomaly. So, I would suggest, is a religious living alone. Something intrinsic to the expe-rience of Eucharistic or religious community is missing. Carrying the incarnational analogy further, we may say that both Eucharist and religious community are preeminent realizations of church. As Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy reminds us, "The liturgy is the outstanding means by which the faithful can express in their lives, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nafure of the true church. It is of the essence of the church that she be both human and divine, visible and yet invisibly endowed . Day by day the liturgy builds up [the mem-bers] of the church into the Lord's holy temple, into a spiritual dwelling for God--an enterprise which will continue until Christ's full stature is achieved. At the same time the liturgy marvelously fortifies the faithful in their capacity to preach Christ. To out-siders the liturgy thereby reveals the church as a sign raised above the nations" (§2). In short, when the faithful gather to celebrate Eucharist, Church "happens." The Synod on Consecrated Life also saw a unique ecclesial manifestation in this life. Vita consecrata (§§41 and 42) calls com-munity life "an eloquent sign of ecclesial communion," that is, of the church's fundamental identity. Community demonstrates that sharing in trinitarian communion can change human relationships and create a new type of solidarity, built not on family ties or nat-ural attraction, but on common values and commitments. "In this way it speaks to people both of the beauty of fraternal commu-nion and of the ways which actually lead to it. Consecrated persons live 'for' God and 'from' God, and precisely for this reason they are able to bear witness to the reconciling power of grace, which overcomes the divisive tendencies present in the human heart and in society." Community is described as a "God-enlightened space in which to experience the presence of the risen Lord." In literature the figure of speech called synecdoche uses a part to represent the whole and thus even to contain the whole. Perhaps this figure of speech can illustrate a similarity between the Eucharistic assembly and religious community: each in its own Review for Religious way, limited in time and space, is a special manifestation of the church, past, present, and future, throughout the world. Do This in Memory of Me Whenever Mass is celebrated, the story of our redemption is retold and the stuff of our lives is incorporated into that story. In the penitential rite we are reminded that Jesus heals the wounds of sin and division, and then we recall our sins and ask and receive forgiveness. Scripture readings highlight some aspect of salvation history, and the homily applies it to our lives. In the creed we recite the ancient truths and affirm our contemporary belief. In the offertory our gifts are brought to the altar in order to be become Christ's Body and Blood. The words of consecration recall the Last Suppe~:--for the sake of the present action. The telling and retelling of the story of salvation is not a sterile repetition, but an opportunity for us to be drawn into an ongoing story and to make it our own. It is ultimately a transforming story. One day recently the postcommunion prayer included the words "become what we have received." We could never exhaust the meaning of that short phrase. Nourished by Christ's Body and Blood, we are incorporated into him and become Christ in the world. Each religious institute also lives by a story. The circumstances of the founding, the teachings of the founder, the sufferings and hardships of early members, accounts of new missions undertaken, tales of saintly individuals--all of these are elements in a congre-gational history that is still being written. A new member is grad-ually introduced to that s~ory in a process analogous to the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults. Bit by bit she learns the stoW and becomes a part of it. The story is more than facts: it includes beliefs, values, and customs which have to be interiorized if the new member is to be really incorporated. These are best instilled by example. The new member lives in a community that shows her in a natural and unselfconscious way what it is to be a Sister of Mercy or Daughter of Charity or Franciscan. Gradually she takes on the new identity and lives out of it in an authentic way. Both processes--Eucharistic and congregational incorpora-tion- illustrate the meaning of theological tradition. This term refers to the preservation and development by which some truth, whether divine revelation itself or a founding charism, is made available to succeeding generations. Through successive genera- March-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion t_ions of recalling and living and praying that truth, new persons are enabled to enter into the community of belief and practice and to contribute their insights. The words used may differ, as languages and cultures change, but the essential identity perdures, under the guidance of the Spirit. Eucharistic community and religious com-munity are communities of memory, nourished by retelling the story. The words of the Evangelist John apply to both, "What we have seen and heard, we proclaim now to you, so that you may have communion with us" (1 Jn 1:3). That All May Be One No group on earth is more diverse than the community of Christian believers. A Coptic Christian in a refugee camp in Ethiopia, a campesino in the highlands of Peru, a Midwest tourist at St. Patrick's Cathedral, all take part in the same liturgy, albeit in different languages and rites. Nor does the diversity end there. Even within the same national or ethnic group, vocational choices, personal gifts, economic circumstances, theological tendencies, and spiritual preferences may differentiate worshipers from one another. Just look around the church some morning and appreci-ate the diversity present there. Retirees, business executives, stu-dents, factory workers, a few street people--all feel comfortable. The church's identity as communio means that all members share a fundamental unity, rooted in baptism. Whatever their differ-ences, the liturgy inspires the faithful to become of one heart in love by being "filled with 'the paschal sacraments'" (Sacrosanctum concilium, Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, §10). The sociologist Robert Bellah asserts that the fundamental practice that tells us who we are as Christians is worship? When we all gather to partake of the same Eucharistic banquet, we are drawn into an embodied world of relationships and connections, a world of human solidarity. Furthermore, he suggests, this soli-darity is an antidote to the radical individualism so characteristic of modern society. Every Eucharistic celebration is an opportunity to model hospitality and inclusive love. When we detect that dif-ferences have become barriers to communio, we must seek recon-ciliation and the restoration of harmony. Religious community has its own diversity. Before renewal we often ignored our differences or tried to eliminate them through adherence to minutiae of rules and customs. Once we began to Review for Religious recognize and appreciate individual differences, however, we did not always differentiate between wholesome and destructive diver-sity. Perhaps more accurately, we did not always differentiate between accidental differences, which can enhance community, and substantive differences, which can erode common meaning. We easily think of examples of diver-sity within a single congregation: national origin (especially if it is an international institute), ethnicity, age, personality types, education, professional expertise, ministry experience, tendencies in theology and spirituality, preferences in art, music, and recreation. On the one hand, this variety of gifts is a wonderful treasure. On the other, it creates a formidable obstacle to the unity of mind and heart which is the ideal of religious life. If this unity is to flourish, it must include a common under-standing of the core commitments of the vowed life and a common passion for the mission, and it must be nourished by the sound traditions of the congregation. For we are not on individual spiritual journeys that intersect only occasionally; we share one journey on which everyone's successes and failures challenge all to be better pilgrims. Successful integration of the varied gifts within a religious community mirrors ecclesial community and contributes to its flourishing. Hospitality and inclusive love are characteristics of both Eucharistic and religious community celebrations. The sociologist Robert Bellah asserts that the fundamental practice that tells us who we are as Christians is worship. Go Forth to Love and Serve the Lord As the liturgy draws to a close, we are sent forth on mission. In the prayers of petition, we remembered the needs of our fam-ilies, friends, community members, church, and world. We offered ourselves with the bread and wine, and now Christ has incorpo-rated us more deeply into himself so that our hands will be his hands, our hearts his heart, on a mission of service to others. Each liturgy ends in a commissioning that echoes the commissioning of Jesus' disciples before his ascension: "Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father Marcb-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always until the end of the age." The message is not "Keep safe and stay well until we meet again," but rather "Go forth to love and serve me in the least of my brethren. What you have received, give freely. And, when next you gather at my table, bring the cares and needs of your neighbors with you." Liturgy is not a place to retreat from the world's problems for an hour of spiritual comfort. It is a time to penetrate more deeply into the meaning of the world's problems through the lens of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. Communion should help us see with his vision. This means seeing beneath the surface of events to the roots of the world's problems. Seeing with Christ's eyes-- we call this contemplation--is necessary for entering into the strug-gle against evil in the depths of human hearts and in the structures of society. Similarly, religious community life is oriented toward mis-sion. "Nor for ourselves alone" should be the watchword. Consecrated life is apostolic in its very essence. This means, not that persons in religious congregations do apostolic works or have individual ministries, but that our whole way of life is for the sake of making the love of God visible and attractive. Community life, therefore, as an intrinsic element of the consecrated life, should be mission oriented in both intention and expression. An apostolic community welcomes neighbors and friends and even, at times, aliens and strangers. An apostolic community weaves the needs of the world into its spiritual consciousness and common prayer. An apostolic community shares its resources with people who are poor. An apostolic community responds to the needs and priori-ties of the larger congregation and also welcomes new members, introducing them to this way of life. In short, an apostolic com-munity is not turned in on itself, isolated and self-sufficient, but receives from others and shares with them. Eucharistic and reli-gious communities--both of them generate apostolic engagement and support. Reanimating Our Eucharistic and Communal Life At the beginning of these reflections, we noted that one of the challenges of living Eucharistic and religious community enthu-siastically is the dailiness of the two experiences. Building on the Review for Religious strength of the analogy between them, let us imagine some ways to make each experience more life-giving. In order to do so, you may want to recall some especially meaningful community cele-bration- perhaps a patronal feast, a jubilee or anniversary, a pro-fession ceremony, even a funeral. Are there elements of that well-remembered celebration which can be incorporated into daily experience? Let me suggest a few. The first dimension of any celebration is anticipation, together with preparation and planning. We look forward to community celebrations, choosing the time and place with care, sending out invitations, preparing the space, devising a menu. If the celebra-tion is to include a liturgy, additional preparations are made--a celebrant is engaged, the choir and musicians rehearse, programs are printed, the altar is adorned. Far from being a burden, these preparations add to the greatness of the occa-sion. We enjoy imagining what the result will be. We look forward to the delight others will experience, perhaps to elements of surprise or special beauty they will enjoy. By our antici-patory efforts we are giving the message that what is to follow is important. In some way the element of anticipation and preparation can be incorporated into the daily rhythm of our Eucharistic and commu-nal life. A simple way to anticipate the Eucharist is to reflect on the scriptural texts before Mass, to pray for grace to hear the word of God and to live it gladly. If we have options, the choice of a time and place to attend Mass is also part of the anticipation. Because community life is not a single event, but an ongoing rela-tionship, the note of anticipation may not seem applicable. I believe, however, that we have to be every bit as intentional about when and how we will gathei', what we will do to enhance the meeting, who we might invite to join us. Mealtime, prayer times, and recreation--three common points of encounter--can all be enriched by thoughtful anticipatory gestures. Gathering flowers for the dinner table can say to your companions, "You are important to me. I am happy to spend this time with you." After the preparation comes the event itself, the celebration of Eucharist, the experience of community living. Harking back to the The element of anticipation and preparation can be incorporated into the daily rhythm of our Eucharistic and communal life. March-April 2001 Gottemoeller ¯ Community and Communion community celebration we specially remember, we note that pres-ence to one another and attention to detail are key ingredients. A sister that I lived with for many years told me this story not long ago. She recalled returning from a trip very late at night and very tired. We used to gather for our community prayer at 7:15 each morning. The following morning she was very tempted to sleep in and skip prayer; she felt she was too tired to contribute anything to the community's effort. But she came, and she had a vivid expe-rience of being borne up and carried by the prayer of the rest of us. Then, when she went to morning Mass with us, she had the same experience at church. The presence of the other parishioners, many of whom we did not know by name but recognized from seeing them frequently, "bore her up." Their faith sustained and animated her. This story is, I suggest, a parable about the nature of Eucharistic and religious community. In times of fatigue, dis-traction, boredom, the community is there for me. When others are similarly challenged, I want to be there for them. Attention to the details of presence enhances Eucharistic cel-ebrations and community experiences. The visibility of sisters, at least occasionally attending Mass together in a parish church, gives a clear reminder that we are still here, that ours is an ecclesial vocation, that our apostolic works are rooted in a life of commu-nal and liturgical prayer. Participation as a lector, Eucharistic min-ister, choir member, or bearer of the offertory gifts can help focus our attention on what we are doing together. Attention to our posture, dress, and demeanor can all help us remember that each celebration, no matter how frequently repeated, is an incalculable opportunity to be united with the whole church living, striving, and praying throughout time and space. Similarly, in local community settings, cultivating habits of courtesy and thoughtfulness can ele-vate the daily humdrum into graced encounters. Finally, a meaningful celebration is prolonged beyond the event itself. The liturgical year supplies us with a cycle of special feasts, but, except for Christmas and Easter, the celebration is usu-ally over and forgotten by eight o'clock in the morning. Are there ways in which we can remind ourselves and one another of the morning's scripture reading, the day's feast, or the spirit of the season (the anticipation of Advent, the joy of Christmastime, the penitential spirit of Lent, the daily challenge of Ordinary Time)? Our community gatherings give us the opportunity to prolong the Eucharistic celebration into the rest of the day. Review for Religious All of these suggestions, simple as they are, are ways in which we can integrate our communal and liturgical prayer. And, of course, there are ways in which all of this can relate to our personal prayer. If one dimension is weak, neglected, or underdeveloped, the others suffer. Each part of our spiritual journey is meant to sup-port the others. In these reflections on the connection between liturgy and community life, I have suggested that there is an anal-ogy which illuminates each. Each in its own way is incarnational and ecclesial, an experience of living memory, a manifestation of varied gifts subsumed into a common unity, and a sending forth on mission. Of course, every analogy is limited, and I do not mean that the two realities are comparable in all respects. Perhaps we can switch for a moment from analogy to metaphor--my English teacher would be so proud! Both liturgy and community life are paths to the same goal of union with God, and so it is not sur-prising that, the closer they approach that goal, the more they converge. The metaphor is limited too, however, for in this life of ours we can take both paths at the same time. I found the intimate relationship, the reciprocity, between Eucharist and community summed up in the following passage by Marcello Azevedo SJ: "The Eucharist is the soul and inspiration of community [living]. The Eucharist makes community viable and challenges us to live up to its truth. And community provides a way for the Eucharist to become authentic. Where community cracks or becomes truncated, where there is community but not a living communion, there we find less of an opportunity for the Eucharist to be consistently credible. There may be a formal cel-ebration, but the very act may empty the meaning and implica-tions of what we are celebrating."3 Azevedo goes on to say that it is necessary to assist young and not-so-young religious to under-stand the immense and unique implications of the Eucharist for community life. He comments that, if we do not make the effort to teach them, daily Eucharist will seem a meaningless legalistic obligation to the young. The not-so-young, for their part, having become accustomed to a disciplined ritual, may not be aware of a problem. But, while attending the Eucharist faithfully, they might fail to grasp its new dimensions and appreciate its many benefits for the life of the community. Before closing let me return to one of the issues identified at the beginning of this reflection, namely, the alienation of some women religious from liturgy because of their feelings of exclusion. March-April 2001 '!49-- !50 Gottemoeller * Community and Communion At times the institutional church--which publicly validates our lives through canonical recognition and affirmations of many kinds--also seems to go out of its way to distance us from the Eucharist through clericalist assertions. As a result some women have sought to nourish their communal spirituality by retrieving women's rituals from Native American, Eastern, and ancient pagan sources. This issue, this phenomenon, has not been the focus of my remarks, but, because of its relationship to the overall question of Eucharistic participation by women religious, it is important to at least touch on it. Mary Collins OSB provides some relevant insights in her essay "Is the Eucharist Still a Source of Meaning for Women?''4 After noting that the Eucharistic Christ has brought prayerful women-- including our congregational founders--to a depth of spiritual identity, vision, and power generation after generation, she says: "This meaning and power do not lie exclusively in the past; they have a present and future for those who trust themselves to Eucharistic action in troubled times. To insist upon construing Eucharist solely as a symbol of male power is to squander a known source of spiritual vitality in the Catholic community." She addresses the issue of substituting other rituals for Christian liturgy: Where such impoverished constructions of the Catholic Church's Eucharistic tradition have been accepted as the whole truth or the only significant truth, some Catholics have begun to identify themselves as post-Christian and to look elsewhere for the way, the truth, and the life. Will a neopagan quasi-retrieval of rites of empowerment for women guarantee a better future for the human community than the service of the gospel and the Eucharistic celebration of the mystery of salvation? Nobody has ever been able to pre-vent people from squandering real assets when the lure of fool's goal overtakes them, nor from risking a solid future on the futures market. Neoclericalism and neopaganism both look like fool's gold to me.s Collins challenges us to hold fast to the treasure which has been entrusted to us and to the whole Christian community. As reli-gious living a communitarian life, we have a special affinity for the communal dimension of Eucharist. I hope that our reflection on these matters will stir our imaginations and irrigate, from the wellspring of our communal religious lives, our desire to celebrate Review for Religious the Eucharist. I hope that the Eucharist will be for all of us what it has been and is: our "daily viaticum and source of the spiritual life." Notes ~ "Community Living: Beginning the Conversation," Review for Religious 58, no. 2 (March-April 1999): 137-149. 2 "Religion and the Shape of National Culture," America (31 July 1999): 9-14. 3 The Consecrated Life: Crossroads and Directions, (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995), p. 87. 4 Living in the Meantime: Concerning the Transformation of Religious Life, ed. Paul J. Philibert OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1994), pp. 185- 196. ~ Philibert, Living, p. 195. Easter Jesus rose like a gleaming daffodil, starting a trend of risings from cold mud - purple crocus and wild violet, pale narcissus looking too fragile for spring blasts, and the hooded heads of tulips waiting to unscarf themselves in coral and flame. You feel again your own mud and wonder each drab day what seeds unknown to you might be risii~g from the humus of your Lenten days and almost ready for your alleluias. PatSchnapp RSM March-April 2001 GERALD M. FAGIN Contemplation to Attain Love A Paradigm for Apostolic Prayer Every Christian faces the challenge of integrating prayer and ministry, for every Christian is called to a contemplative relationship with God and a life of service. Baptism missions a person to labor with Christ in building the reign of God in our world, but the desire and energy for that mission must come from an experience of God, a relationship with God that is fos-tered by a life of prayer. Prayer encourages and informs a life of ministry, and ministry enriches and gives renewed motivation for prayer. Our traditions provide a rich variety of definitions and methods of apostolic prayer. In this article I will suggest that the final exercise of Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises, the Contemplation to Attain Love, offers a helpful paradigm and even a partial description of the prayer of an active minister. It names the qualities of an apostolic prayer and outlines the stages of growth in such a prayer. There is no evidence that Ignatius pre-sented this exercise as a methodology of prayer, but in obvious ways the four points of the contemplation indi-cate the kind of prayer that best suits an active Christian. Many commentators point out that the Contemplation to Attain Love describes the summit and Gerald M. Fagin SJ teaches theology at Loyola University; 6363 St. Charles Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. Review for Religious summation of the Spiritual Exercises and captures the heart of Ignatian spirituality. Michael Bucldey, in an insightful article on the contemplation, parallels the four points of this exercise with the Exercises' four Weeks.' As the four points recall what we have received, how God dwells in the gifts, how God labors in the gifts, and how the gifts lead us back to the Giver, so the four Weeks center on God's gifts of creation and redemption, on God's indwelling in the world in Jesus, on Christ laboring in the pas-sion, and finally on surrender to and union with Christ risen in glory. The grace prayed for in the contemplation also sums up the graces prayed for in the Exercises: "To ask for interior knowl-edge of all the great good I have received, in order that, stirred to profound gratitude, I may become able to love and serve the Divine Majesty in all things" (§233).2 The goal of the Exercises is to bring one to freedom to hear God's call and respond in love and service. That also articulates well the grace prayed for in any apostolic prayer. Apostolic prayer must begin with attentive listening that presumes an open heart. It results in a commitment to service that flows from a loving desire to share gospel truths and values. The contemplation at the end of the Exercises also enables and facilitates the transition from thirty days of prayer in solitude to the active life of the minister of the gospel. Prayer that was nurtured in the solitude of the desert now must find a way of expression in everyday life filled with demands and distractions. Contemplation must become a certain contemplation in action, and the God found in the quiet world of retreat must be found in all things, in all the people and events, the joys and challenges, of everyday life. This is not an easy task. The felt intimacy and strong resolutions often experienced in retreat prayer can quickly dissi-pate when confronted with the challenges of family life, commu-nity life, and ministry. Prayer must take a shape and an expression appropriate for an active and engaging life. Prayer must attune the heart to the many revelations of God in life. The four points of the Contemplation to Attain Love invite us to four forms of prayer that define the minister's relationship to God. As with the four points of the contemplation, there is a certain sequence to these prayer forms, but the rhythm of prayer implies a constant interplay between the forms. All four expressions of prayer must continually inform and enrich one another and enliven the minister. Marcb-April 2001 Fagin ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love First Point. Recall the Gifts I Have Received I will call back into my memory the gifts I have received-- my creation, redemption, and other gifts particular to myself. I will ponder with deep affection how much God our Lord has done for me, and how much he has given me of what he possesses, and consequently how he, the same Lord, desires to give me even his very self, in accordance with his divine design. (§234) Without a sense of thanksgiving, there is no true motivation for Christian service. The foundational grace of the Christian life is the grace to know God's personal love for oneself. God's love finds expression in the gifts of creation and redemption as well as in the endless other graces poured out upon us. All of life is seen in faith as a gift from the hands of a loving God who, as Ignatius indicates, finally desires to share God's own life with us. Ignatius experienced this powerfully in his own vision at the River Cardoner, where he saw all of creation coming down from God as a gift and returning to God. This dynamic view of creation defined for Ignatius the rhythm and meaning of life and the flow of all of life and salvation history. Our response in prayer to God's plan of salvation begins, then, with a sense of gifted-ness in our creation and redemption. We stand before God as a creature totally depen-dent on God and as loved sinners aware of God's forgiving and healing love. Christian prayer begins as a response to God's initiative toward us, a response first of profound gratitude for all that God has given us. It is no wonder that Ignatius recognized gratitude as central to Christian life and a sure measure of Christian faith. In the grace prayed for in the contemplation, Ignatius presumes that an interior knowledge of all God's gifts would "stir one to profound gratitude" (§2 3 3). The prayer of an apostle must be rooted in gratitude. Without a sense of thanksgiving, there is no true motivation for Christian service. Gratitude leads to magnanimity, to greatness of heart, and impels one to service. To sustain and enliven ministry, Christians must return to a sense of being gifted and rekindle desire to share all the gifts received and to proclaim to others the presence of God's gifts in their lives. One central goal .of ministry is to enable others to notice and claim their own gifts from God and then to Review for Religious foster those gifts in others. The first point of the contemplation reminds us that all prayer and all ministry flow from a grateful heart. The prayer of every minister must first be a prayer of gratitude. Second Point. God Dwells in All Creation I will consider how God dwells in creatures; in the elements, giving them existence; in the plants, giving them life; in the animals, giving them sensation; in human beings, giving them intelligence; and finally, how in this way he dwells also in myself, giving me existence, life, sensation, and intelli-gence; and even further, making me his temple, since I am created as a likeness and image of the Divine Majesty. (§235) The prayer of a minister must also be a prayer of contemplative presence. Ignatius reminds us in the second point that God dwells in all of creation, is present in every dimension of reality. To be a contemplative is to notice and be in touch with the presence of God. Ignatius spoke of acatamiento or reverence, an awareness of God's presence, a sense of awe that resulted in love, a sense of the utter gratuity of creation.4 Contemplative presence implies paying attention to God and becoming absorbed in God dwelling in and revealing himself in the world about us. God reveals himself in nature, in the events of life, in other people, and in ourselves. First, contemplative presence enables us to listen to God in nature. The beauty and grandeur of creation, the majesty of life expressed in plants and animals, the power of nature manifested in wind and storm--all of these reveal the splendor and majesty of God and call forth awe and wonder that draws the human heart to the presence of God alive in the world. The beauty and wonder of creation invite our hearts to move beyond what we experience and become centered on God. This calls to mind the simple act of contemplation that Julian of Norwich describes: seeing a tiny hazelnut, she recognizes that God made it, loves it, and preserves it.s Her heart is lifted to God her creator, her lover, and her pro-tector. All of creation is a manifestation of God that guides us into a deeper awareness of God's loving presence all around us. Second, contemplative presence also attunes us to God present in the events of our lives, events of joy and grace as well as painful and challenging events. God dwells with us, supports and strength-ens us, and faithfully walks with us in significant, life-changing March-April 2001 Fagin ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love events and in ordinary, routine events. We can recall significant moments of insight or forgiveness or renewed hope or grief at the loss of a loved one--moments of grace as dramatic as the birth of a child or as simple as a consoling word spoken in love. A con-templative presence enables us to find God dwelling in all life's events. Third, God dwells in a special way in the people we encounter in our lives. A contemplative presence gives rise to reverence and awe before others. We recognize and acknowledge God dwelling in them. We give thanks for the giftedness of others and see the face of God in them. We recall experiences of friendship that have been powerful sacraments of God's love in our lives. As the poet Hopkins proclaims it, "Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not his, to the Father through the features of men's faces." God is revealed as well in community, in the people God calls together. "For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them" (Mr 18:20).6 How often we find God in our sisters and brothers called together in word, sacrament, and service! God dwells powerfully in the com-munity of humankind and in the more particular communities of family and church that surround us with love and support. Finally, God dwells within our own hearts--creating us, loving us, and sustaining us. We find God in our needs and feel-ings and desires, in the movements of our hearts. God forever desires to make his home with us. Jesus' words to Zacchaeus are spoken to us each day, "I must stay at your house today" (Lk 19:5). We can recall the searching words of Paul, "It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:19) or the words of Jesus in John's Gospel, "Abide in me as I abide in you" (Jn 15:4). These words of Scripture call to mind the mysterious truth of the life of grace: God dwells within us. Contemplative prayer puts us in touch with that intimate presence and fosters our shared presence with God. The second point of the contemplation, then, elicits the grace of finding God in all things. For the Christian in active ministry, the grace of finding God in the flow of life means more than bringing the fruit of our prayerful contemplation to our ministry. It implies being contemplative in the midst of our action, finding God present in the events and people in our lives. So often we long for and wait for epiphanies of God in our lives, those dramatic and unmistakable revelations of God that capture our attention Review for Religious in sudden and unpredictable ways. A contemplative presence empowers us to notice the constant diaphanies of God, the ways God shines through all of creation and all the events of our lives. Contemplative presence is a prayer of the apostle because it allows us to find God in life and to be present ourselves to God present to us. Third Point. God Labors in All Creation I will consider how God labors and works for me in all the creatures on the face of the earth; that is, he acts in the man-ner of one who is laboring. (§236) In the third point Ignatius highlights how God is at work in all things, how God labors to bring all things to salvation. The Christian is called to labor with God to bring all of creation to salvation. Apostolic prayer, then, is always a prayer of discernment about choices and decisions.7 If Christ labors in the world, redeeming it and bringing it back to the Father, the ques-tions before the minister are always: How do I become part of this labor of Christ? What is my role in salvation history? Ignatius experienced this in his mystical vision at La Storta where the Father placed him at the side of Jesus carrying his cross. Ignatius was to labor alongside Christ to bring the world back to God. The challenge was to discover what laboring with Christ meant in the con-crete circumstances of his life. The chal-lenge for every minister is to come to decisions that are true to the mind of Christ and apt for building the reign of God. What can I do for and with Christ in my life situation? A decision flows out of a conversation between my gifts, the needs of the Christian community, and the particu-lar call of Christ in my life. Discernment is the art of finding God's will in the concrete details of my life. Discernment is a gift of the Spirit that attunes our heart to the heart of Christ so that our min-istry is shaped by the hopes and desires of the Lord and not our own agenda. The challenge for every minister is to come to decisions that are true to the mind of Christ and apt for building the reign of God. March-April 2001 Fagin ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love In the second Week of the Exercises, Ignatius invites retreatants to an imaginative prayer that leads them into the events of Christ's life. The invitation to be present to a person or event in the Scripture calls them to be present with Christ in a given mystery of his life. The grace prayed for is a deep-felt knowledge of Christ and love for Christ. Ignatian imaginative prayer or con-templation also teaches one to discern God's will in the specifics of life. Where am I to be inserted into God's plan of salvation as it unfolds today? How I am to labor with Christ to make this plan a reality? This twofold purpose of imaginative contemplation in the second Week of the Exercises--intimacy with Jesus and discern-ment-- corresponds to the grace of the second Week: to know and love Christ by being present to him in the events of his life and to follow him by learning my role in salvation history day by day. Returning to the Contemplation to Attain Love, the second point focuses on God dwelling in the world. For a Christian, focus-ing on God means being present to Christ and noticing him in the world. The third point of the contemplation centers on God laboring in the world, especially in Jesus' life, passion, and death. As the second point suggests a prayer of contemplative presence, so the third point encourages a prayer of discernment, of finding God's will in my life. Ministers of the gospel must grow into dis-cerning hearts that define and direct their service. The gift of dis-cernment enables them to sift through interior movements to discover what is from God and leads to God and what leads them away from God. Without such discernment, choices in ministry are not founded on God's call to labor with Christ for God's reign. Fourth Point. From Gift to Giver I will consider how all good things and gifts descend from above; for example, my limited power from the Supreme and Infinite Power above and so of justice, goodness, piety, mercy, and so forth--just as the rays come down from the sun, or the rains from their source. (§237) The fourth point shifts our focus to God, the source of all good. God is loved not simply for what he has done for us, but for who God is. If apostolic prayer begins in gratitude, grows into contemplative presence, and finds expression in prayerful dis-cernment, union with God and others remains the goal. "Our hearts are made for God and they are restless until they rest in Review for Religious him.''~ Prayer is the language of relationship, a posture of listen-ing and responding to God that gives expression to our faith, hope, and love and grows into a shared presence with our God who desires to draw close and be one with us. Prayer is creating a space where God can be welcomed and intimacy nourished. Prayer is the experience of our hearts being one with the heart of God. Jesus, in John's discourse after the last supper, voices his desire to be one with us as he and the Father are one. He uses the image of the vine and the branches to speak of the dynamic connection between his life and ours. He invites us to "abide in his love" and share in the love the Father has for him. Jesus promises his disci-ples that "whoever loves me will keep my word and my Father will love him and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him" On 14:23). They are to be disciples on a mission, but dis-ciples rooted in mystical union with God. Prayer ultimately leads to this familiarity with God, this union, this sharing in the very life of God. This should be true for apos-tolic ministers. As the gifts lead us back to the Giver in the fourth point of the contemplation, so a contemplative prayer of discern-ment leads our hearts to a deeper union with God. The graces of the third and fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises, to be united with Jesus in his suffering and in his joy, lead a person into a prayer of union and in the end to the total surrender to God expressed in the prayer of the contemplation: "Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and also my will--all that I have and possess. You, Lord, have given all that to me. I now give it back to you, O Lord. All of it is yours. Dispose of it accord-ing to your will. Give me love of yourself along with your grace, for that is enough for me" (§234). This is the prayer of total detachment from everything that is not God, a prayer of union that finds ultimate fulfillment in God alone. In his second preliminary observation for the contemplation, Ignatius says: "Love consists in a mutual communication between the two persons. That is, the one who loves, gives and communi-cates to the beloved what he or she has, or part of what one has or can have; and the beloved in return does the same to the lover" (§231). Love finds fullest expression in union and mutual shar-ing. Intercommunion and personal communication, mutual giving and sharing, lead to a profound union. Apostolic prayer finds ful-fillment in a profound union of heart and desire between God and the apostle. March-April 2001 Active ministers must find God in the midst of their ministry and not simply in solitude and quiet prayer. t60 ' Fag~n ¯ Contemplation to Attain Love Apostolic Prayer This essay suggests that the final exercise of the Spiritual Exercises provides the retreatant not only with a summation of the four Weeks and a synthesizing grace of the Exercises, but also with a guideline for apostolic prayer. Implicit in Ignatius's four points in the contemplation, which moves the retreatant from the world of retreat to a world of active ministry, is a description of the forms and qualities of prayer necessary to sustain the retreatant in a life of ministry. Active ministers must always center their hearts on the gifts of God so as to be continuously grateful for them. Without such gratitude the minister's heart will narrow and grow cold and lose the expansiveness and generosity essential to ministry. Ministry flows from a grateful heart. At the same time, active ministers must find God in the midst of their ministry and not sim-ply in solitude and quiet prayer. Though such solitude and quiet time is absolutely necessary, ministers must foster a contemplative presence that is attentive to God in all the dimensions of life. Such contemplative presence joins prayer and ministry, action and contemplation, and makes it possible for the minister to find life and consolation in ministry. Genuine ministry will always be the fruit of discernment and prayerful decision making. Ministers must grow in the gift and art of dis-cernment so that their ministry carries on the ministry of Jesus in service of the reign of God. To labor with Christ presumes a heart in union with Christ and a heart free to hear God's personal call to service. Apostolic prayer nurtures a discerning heart sensitive to the ongoing call of God in our lives. Finally, all prayer moves us back to the Giver of all gifts. Apostolic prayer reaches its goal in total surrender and union with God. Ignatius, in his Spiritual Diary, records the depth and full-ness of his own prayer of union with God. Ignatius's Trinitarian mysticism was the fruit of a life of prayer and service and his final surrender to the Giver of all gifts who dwells and labors in cre-atiom This is not only a prayer for the select few. It is the desire of God's heart for all believers. Review for Religious The four points of this Ignatian contemplation invite us to a prayer rooted in gratitude, embodied in a contemplative attitude, focused on discernment of God's will, and brought to culmina-tion in a deep union with God and creation. Such a description seems at least a partial summary of Ignatius's own prayer and not far from naming the gift of prayer Ignatius would ask for those who make his Spiritual Exercises. Notes ~ Michael J. Buckley SJ, "The Contemplation to Attain Love," Way Supplement 24 (Spring 1975): 92-104. Buckley's interpretation of the contemplation lays a foundation for my reflections on the prayer forms suggested by the Ignatian Contemplation to Attain Love. ~ Spiritual Exercises citations are from The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans. George Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992). 3 See Gerald M. Fagin SJ, "Stirred to Profound Gratitude," Review for Religious 54, no. 2 (March-April 1995): 237-252. 4 See Charles O'Neill SJ, "Acatamiento: Ignatian Reverence," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 8, no. 1 (January 1976). s Julian of Norwich, Showings (Long text), chap. 5. 6 All scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard. Version. See Buckley, p. 102, St. Augustine, Confessions, Book 1, chap. 1. March-April 2001 ERNEST E. LARKIN What to Know about Discernment One of my teachers in Rome was the famed Dominican Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange. He often shared bits of worldly wisdom like the following: A young teacher teaches even what she does not know, a middle-aged teacher teaches only what she knows, and an old teacher teaches only What is necessary. Twenty years ago, as a middle-aged teacher, I wrote a little book on discernment, called Silent Presence. Recently, as an old teacher, I was asked to write a summary statement on the topic. Here it is. It will appear as an epilogue when Dimension Books republishes the book, which is undergoing wholesale revision for its renewed life. What, then, is necessary for discernment? Discernment as Process and Problem Discernment has two focuses: process and problem. It is pro-cess insofar as it is a progressive awareness of the movements of the spirits in our consciousness. The "spirits" are thoughts, desires, and affective moods, which are the telltale signs of the Holy Spirit or opposing influences. In the discernment process we become more sensitive to the movements of grace or the temptation to sin in our lives. Discernment is mindfulness, recollection, centeredness. It is being aware of what is going on spiritually. Ernest E. Larkin OCarm wrote about St. TMr~se for our September- October issue last year. His address is Kino Institute; 1224 East Northern; Phoenix, Arizona 85020. Review for Religious Discernment as problem solving is interpreting thespirits in order to determine God's will. Where are these feelings and sen-timents tending? Are they moving the person toward or away from God? What behavior and choices are they suggesting? Discernment is not concerned with the emotional or physiological sources of these feelings, but only with their trajectory or orientation. Where are they pointing? God leads us by means of these secondary causes. The two functions of discernment coalesce in our daily, moment-to-moment responses to God calling us forth in the concrete situations of daily life. This process is the "obedience of faith" (Rm 1:5), which is saying no to selfishness and yes to tran-scendence. We are called to live beyond rote rules and in accord with God's particular will for us. The ordinary teaching and ministry of the church provide the boundaries or the playing field. But God leads each of us one by one in the community of the church. God's project for me is that I become the unique person I was created to be. Discernment is the tool for the process. The How of Discernment There are three ways of evaluating our experiences. One is cognitive: we use our heads to analyze the experiences, we objectify the experiences, and we hold them before our eyes to understand and interpret them. The other two ways involve our heart: I call one mystical, the other affective; in these two ways we feel our way to the conclusion. Cognitive discernment stays on the level of thinking. It thinks about holy thoughts and desires and their unholy counterparts as well. It asks which are which, with a view to following the good and avoiding the evil. It makes a judgment based on theoretical knowl-edge about what is virtuous and what is not. This endeavor prescinds from the affective states; in cognitive discernment the feelings are beside the point. The norm is right reason and good sense. Mystical discernment is the experience of ourselves being lifted up to God in loving surrender. At the time there is no contrary movement of affectivity; experiencing a mystical grace, we have no doubt that we are in God and God is in us. Affective discernment involves an awareness of the comings and goings of a divided affectivity. We note the ambivalence in our lives between yeses and noes to God. We observe both positive and negative March-April 2001 Larkin ¯ What to Know about Discernment affections over the same one issue, the positive ones being love, peace, commitment (all of which are signs of God's presence) and the negative ones being anxiety, alienation, rebelliousness (potential obstacles between us and God). In the to-and-fro of this experience, we sense the calling of God. A simple image may clarify this matter. Each of us is like a cone standing on its point and divided by a horizontal plane halfway up. The upper half is our conscious self, our soul or psy-che; the lower half is our spirit. God dwells in the depths of our spirit at the point of the cone. He may activate his role as the point of the cone by letting our whole being sink more deeply into himself so that our deeply spiritual sense of contact with him is now much more than a point; it is a complete circle, a divine interface, a total saturation--this is the mystical grace referred to above. Or his action, instead of being mystical, may consist of helpful waves sent from the point through our being, waves that reverberate in our consciousness along with contrary movements from our old self. Affective discernment takes note of these contrary and selfish iinpulses as well as the resonances of God's presence. A sense of that presence and absence emerges. Discernment takes place in the upper, conscious level of our being. In the mystical grace, the spirit dominates the psyche; the whole person feels raised up by God, by the sovereign action of Love. The consciousness of this divine gift is the mystical dis-cernment. The person experiences wholeness, peace, humility, a joyous faith, hope, and charity, along with immense gratitude and all the fruits of the Spirit (Ga 5:22). There are no contrary affections as long as the experience lasts. The recipient knows and loves God and all that God stands for; at this point there is complete submission to the divine will, which is intimated in the exchange. The action of grace in our being is not usually so total. Grace builds on nature and meets people where they are in their spiritual journey. Most people do not have perfect purity of heart; they are divided in their allegiance to God. So the Holy Spirit enters their consciousness via holy thoughts and desires; these are actual graces. They vie for attention and acceptance against the contrary entice-ments of the world, the devil, and one's own unredeemed self. God's action does not wholly envelop the person. Part of the person is lifted up in noble sentiments, but another part is reneg-ing and lagging behind; part is saying yes and part no. Affective dis- Review for Religious cernment senses these two directions in the affections themselves and interprets them intuitively as by a sixth sense. We thus have three ways of doing discernment, one of them following objective norms and two of them reading the affections. In actual practice, discernment usually is a mixture of the cogni-tive and the affective, with occasional experiences of the mysti-cal. We now address each of these three at greater length. Cognitive Discernment Cognitive discernment applies appropriate knowledge of the spiritual life to the issues at hand. Teresa of Avila puts a high pre-mium on learning in spiritual directors, whose function is to assist in the process of discernment by confirming or questioning the conclusions of the client. Her teaching on the importance of knowledge in the spiritual life is germane here. She wants both experience and learning in the spiritual guide. But, if forced to choose between the two qualities, she favors experience (see her Autobiography, her Vida, chap. 13), but she always prizes the confir-mation of a learned person. What knowledge is involved in discernment? Knowledge of God's ways as revealed in the Scriptures, wisdom gleaned from the sages of Israel, from Jesus, and from the New Testament, knowl-edge of the spiritual life as it has developed in history. The knowl-edge is about human beings as much as it is about God. Today some knowledge of depth psy-chology is presumed. The ancients and the medieval writers did not have the benefit of Freud, Jung, or Adler, but they knew human nature in its mysterious vagaries. Applied psychology in programs like the enneagram, Myers-Briggs, transactional analysis, and the stages of growth in Erikson and his successors is helpful. All sources of knowledge about ourselves and our world are potential helps: anthropology, biography, literature, even journals of current events that record "signs of the times," indications of what God is doing in the world today. Discernment usually is a mixture of.the cognitive and the affective, with occasional experiences of the mystical. March -April 2 O01 Larkin ¯ What to Know about Discernment Cognitive discernment is the way for beginners, who by def-inition struggle with disordered affections and moral limitations and cannot trust their feelings to be indicators of the divine presence. Beginners need to recognize their feelings, own them, and act beyond them by hewing to the line set by objective crite-ria.° This is the teaching of the rules for discernment for the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. The rules suggest what feelings to expect at the beginning and along the way and how to handle them. The beginners' immediate goal is purity of heart, freedom of spirit, detachment, indifference, all of which terms are basically synonymous. This condition is the prerequisite for exercising affective and mystical discernment. Cognitive discernment is not limited to beginners. Mature Christians use it when they are not experiencing turbulence or strong desires. At such times they work up the pertinent informa-tion in two columns (pros and cons) and make a rational decision, confirming the decision if possible by a subsequent affective dis-cernment. St. Ignatius calls this mode of decision-making the "third time," his "first time" being mystical discernment and his "second time" affective discernment. Prayer and consultation are part of all discernment, as is confirmation by the community, usu-ally through a representative like a spiritual director. The execution of cognitive discernment may be assisted by one or more of the following suggestions: (1) Examine an area of your life such as pra~er, relationships, or ministry by reading some basic reflection on the topic and consulting your conscience on your own performance. (2) Look for models or ways to proceed in people who faced similar questions or situations (such as making a vocational choice or dealing with a significant loss). (3) Listen attentively tO what others say about you in praise or criticism for insights into self-knowledge. (4) Collect words of wisdom that may help you understand a specific question,, such as the follow-ing words of Anthony De Mello about relationships: "You are pre-cious to me, but you are not my life. My life is distinct and separate from you. I thank you for coming into my life. Good-bye." Mystical Discernment "The love of God poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit" (Rm 5:5) orients one's life to God. It roots a person in God and constitutes the state of grace. One may experience this grace Review for Religious as a special mystical gift. This experience is an awareness of one's whole person surrendered to God in faith, hope, and love. This experience is the perception of one's true self in a pure state, with-out any mixture of contrary desire. It is called mystical discernment because it depends on God's free action and the content of one's mind and heart, and their contentedness, are entirely of God. Mystical discernment is the first principle of affective discernment, for it represents the fullness against which subse-quent movements toward God are measured. These lesser affective movements are not the experience of total surrender; they are graces promoting love for God and are experienced positively because they are consonant with the original experience of the pure love of God. St. Ignatius calls them consolations. They are virtuous affections, expe-rienced as harmonious with the fun-damental option; they come across as feelings of well-being, authen-ticity, peace, and love. Their opposites are called des-olations by Ignatius; they obstruct one's surrender to God. They are negative feelings or reactions, and they come across as disruptive, alienating, and destructive. While the good movements are con-gruent with one's ultimate orientation to God, these bad spirits or sentiments oppose submission to God. Affective discernment.moves back and forth between these two sets, whereas in mystical discernment there is only consola-tion- in Ignatius's classic words, "consolation without previous cause" (Spiritual Exercises, §330). This grace is the spontaneous, unmerited inbreaking of God that absorbs the whole person in the love of God. No previous acts of the person explain its presence. It is the gustos of Teresa of Avila, which she calls the prayer of quiet; it is the experience of mystical union in both Teresa and John of the Cross. In this experience one discerns one's true self, not through knowledge about one's self, but through personal, intuitive con-tact. One "knows" God and knows one's self in the union with God, in the way St. Paul wants to "know Christ and the power of Mystical and affective discernment do not establish what is right and wrong; these matters are to be decided by moral reasoning. Malvh-April 2001 Larkin ¯ What to Know about Discernment his resurrection and the fellowship of his suffering" (Ph 3:10). Paul seeks an affective experience, not abstract knowledge. This affective knowledge is not new truths or objective moral theology about right and wrong. Mystical and affective discernment do not establish what is right and wrong; these matters are to be decided by moral reasoning. The discernment has to do with one's sub-jective stance before God; it is about recognizing and responding in freedom to grace, and thus it is about being good, not about being right--just as people sometimes do the right thing for the wrong reason. In mystical discernment there is no intrusion of the false self. The false self is the part of one's being that is not rooted in God. It does not come out of the spirit, but is the construction of one's own ego, a figment of one's imagination and feelings. One must be careful, therefore, not to confuse mere euphoria or "sensible con-solations" in prayer with this special grace. Visions and locutions, even when miraculous, are likewise experiences of the psychic self, on the level of imagination; they are not the same grace as "con-solation without previous cause." The distinctive mark of this truly mystical grace is wholeness: body, soul, and spirit are touched by God. The true self includes all of these. What happens in that mystical union with God, therefore, is totally of God. The false self may awaken after the event and masquerade as part of the gift in the afterglow of the mystical experience. Ignatius warns about this danger (Spiritual Exercises, §336). These subsequent thoughts and affections, like visions and locutions themselves, are to be treated like all other particular ideas and feelings: they must be submitted to cognitive or affective discernment. Typical questions that may help to identify the mystical expe-rience are the following: (1) Is the experience a fantasy, euphoria gone wild, a projection, or wishful thinking, or does it represent my actual self, my reality, my truth? (2) Is the exaltation of this experience corroborated by high standards of moral attitudes and behavior? (3) Is there congruence between the experience and my deepest desires? Affective Discernment The true self and the false self at work in ordinary conscious-ness are good handles for grasping this normal and recommended way of doing discernment. Both of these parts of one's being Review for Religious express themselves in thoughts, desires, feelings, moods, and sentiments. The true self is in touch with the spirit as well as with the soul or psyche. When it operates, there is an element of whole-ness and peace along with other virtuous attitudes and movements. The false self has no roots in the spirit, is superficial and disinte-grated, and acts only at the level of imagination and emotion, with no regard for basic spiritual truth and goodness. Its hallmarks are fragmentation, alienation, irritation, and the seven capital sins. Ordinary Christians live in the state of grace; they are com-mitted to the true self. But whole areas of their lives ha

Density or Intensity?There is much debate about how to measure density – dwellings per hectare, bedrooms per hectare or people per hectare; including or excluding major highways, parks and open spaces; the permanent population only or the transient one too?While this gives urban planners something to disagree about it risks missing the point: great urban places are not created by density; they are created by intensity.And the difference matters. When people describe the buzz of a marketplace they do not say, "Wow - it was so dense!". They are much more likely to say how intense it was. Density is a word used by planners. Intensity is a word that real people use, and perhaps because it describes the outcomes that people experience rather than the inputs that have gone in to creating them. It is the outcomes that are ultimately more important. But planning professionals like density. Even though density fails to capture the essence of what it feels like to be somewhere, the term appeals to professional instincts. It describes the raw ingredients that planners have to handle and, once you choose which version of the formula you are going to use, density is easy to measure. It involves a simple calculation of straightforward urban quantities such as the number of people, the number of houses or the number of bedrooms, all divided by the geographic area over which those ingredients occur. Easy.In contrast, intensity seems more difficult to pin down, not least because it appears to have a subjectively emotional dimension; it speaks of feelings, of responses, of stimuli, and this raises problems about how it can be effectively measured. But intensity is also a response to context, to place and above all to people - and here we can find clues to its measurement.Observing IntensitySo what are the factors that people are responding to when they instinctively feel the intensity of a great place? For a start, they can not be calculating a planner's measure of urban density because, even if they were so minded, they could not possibly know about populations and geographic areas when they are walking along a street or sitting at a café table on a public space.What people can respond to though is what is happening around them in the public realm: they can see how many other people there are, and they can see what these people are up to. In other words, intensity is obvious, immediate and instinctively calculable to the person in the street: not only the mobile population of walkers, drivers and cyclists but also the immobile population of sitters, leaners and pausers. Intensity has a static as well as a kinetic dimension. Indeed the stationary people are the essential ingredient of intensity. They are the people who have chosen to be there, to add to the place through their semi-permanence and not simply to pass through on the way to somewhere else. Intensity is not therefore about the population density of an area but the population that is participating in the public realm of an area. And this should be obvious. And everyday. But any attempt to emphasise the benefits of static participation runs counter to the mindset of the traffic engineer and counter to the still-persuasive, kinetic legacy of Le Corbusier, who described "grinding gears and burning gasoline" as the pleasurable objectives of the Plan Voisin.Nevertheless, intense places are sticky places and especially so when people are not only co-present in space but when they are also interacting: talking to each other, sharing thoughts, ideas, opinions. This is the essence of intensity; there is an exchange - a transaction – be it economic, social, cultural, intellectual, factual or simply facile. It is the daily public life of every thriving village, town and city. It is so apparently unremarkable as to go unnoticed, unobserved and unmeasured. Until it is not there. And that is when you feel it most clearly.A number of years ago my colleagues at Space Syntax were working on a sample of towns across the UK, some historic and some new. The towns had similar residential populations and similar retail floorspace provisions across similar geographical areas; in other words, similar densities. But what the team had also done was to count the numbers of people using the centres of each town: how many were walking and sitting in public space. They had counted over several days, from morning until evening. What they found was that the historic towns consistently had many more people using their centres than the new ones - and they knew from other evidence that the historic towns had stronger economic performances. Here then were places with similar urban densities but different intensities of human activity.What seemed to explain the differences between historic and new towns were first, the spatial layout and second, the street design of each place. The historic towns were laid out around radial streets that were designed to carry cars as well as vehicles and which met at the centre of the town in a public space. Behind these radial streets were more or less continuously connected grids of residential streets, interrupted by the occasional large open space. Both cars and pedestrians could use the residential streets, while the open spaces were generally for pedestrians only. There was some limited pedestrianisation in the very centre of each town.In contrast, the new towns often had separate street networks for vehicles and pedestrians, no high street or central public space and usually one or two enclosed shopping malls. Their central areas were typically pedestrianised and spatially separated from the surrounding residential areas by a vehicle-only ring road; these residential areas were separated from each other by large swathes of open space.To summarise, the key differences were first in the intensity of the human experience and second in the design of the street network. Intensity, it seems, is facilitated by an alignment of physical and spatial factors: having the movement-sensitive land uses on sufficiently well-connected streets that are, in the main, shared by vehicles and pedestrians.Measuring IntensityImportantly, both the amount of human activity and the degree of street connectivity are measurable commodities – if you know how. This is the professional specialism of my practice, Space Syntax, and it has two key parts: one part that takes place in the studio, using purpose-designed software that measures the amount of connectivity in street grids and the other part that happens on site using some form of counting device. This device may be a camera strapped to a lamp post or, in recent years, a drone flight. Or it may simply be a set of human eyes, a pencil and a notepad. Onto these 'foundational' datasets are added other information, which might be about air quality, land value, crime rates or health outcomes. Statistical software is employed to explore relations between the datasets: how is health or wealth or educational achievement related to spatial connectivity or isolation? The product of this process is an Integrated Urban Model: a quantitative record of urban form and urban performance. A Geographical Information System is used to hold the datasets in one place and a basic form of artificial intelligence is run to explore the links between the data.However it is possible to create a primitive version of a data platform using only PowerPoint and Excel. After all, Space Syntax began its work before the Macintosh, before colour screens, before the internet, before CAD, before GIS and long before BIM. Its observations of pedestrian movements around Trafalgar Square were done with pen and paper, the results coded manually into a simple drawing programme.What matters today is what mattered then: to bring data to life using maps and colours rather than spreadsheets and charts. To make it accessible to the audiences that will be making judgments about the future of places: investors, planning officers, politicians and local communities. Measures of intensity therefore need to speak to multiple audiences and not least to the design community, into whose creative hands is entrusted the responsibility for shaping the aspirations of stakeholders. An Integrated Urban Model must be nimble, capable of responding again and again to the short and intensive programme of a rapid design process. Beware the Smart City "Control Room" stuffed with technicians; eintegratedmbrace instead a portable platform that can respond to the timescale of a creative whim.Creating a Profession of "Urban Intensity Surveyors"So why do we not measure towns and cities in such a systematic way? Why is there not a profession of urban intensity surveyors? And a culture among architects and urban planners of designing for intense human interactions?The problems start when the responsibility for thinking about cities, streets and public spaces moves from the individual enjoying the buzz of the boulevard to the collective of professional institutes charged with creating place. Density prevails over intensity and we revert to simplifications. Assumptions are made - incorrectly as we have seen - that the quality of street life will be in direct proportion to the density of people in an area. That if we have more people then the streets will be busier and the busier the streets, the better the place. But then the counter view is quite reasonably made that people need quiet streets and so densities should not be too high. And a compromise is eventually reached for neither super high nor super low densities; neither towns that are too big nor too small. And if we need big towns then they should be broken up into manageable parcels. Since we want pedestrians then we should pedestrianise.We end up with an urbanism of averages and a morphology of enclaves through an approach that is much too simplistic to ever create great place. It is not born of science and it does not reflect human experience: people know instinctively that you can turn off the busiest street in the city and immediately find yourself on a lane that is one of the quietest; that the intensity of the urban experience can transform itself in seconds. This is one of the great joys of exploring great cities: they are not pervasively busy; they are intensely quiet as well. They have a foreground grid of busy streets and a background grid of quiet ones. If we can systematically measure urban intensity then we will understand how towns and cities work in ways that will transform practice. And by transforming practice we will transform place.The Future for IntensityThe professions will be unwise to avoid the opportunities presented by technology. Both the technologies of data capture, visualisation and analysis as well as the technologies that are affecting human behaviours: broadband, social media, augmented reality (AR) and artificial intelligence (AI). Human activity is becoming ever more intense and this gives us another reason to systematically measure urban intensity. People are walking more slowly, ensconced in virtual worlds at the same time as participating in physical space; seeing their surroundings augmented with pop-up information. The trend will continue as AR on our smartphones becomes AR on our spectacles. As well as talking to each other we will be talking to objects on display in shops, to screens in buildings and on streets, and to ourselves – our digital twin may appear as an avatar walking alongside us in our peripheral vision or in front of us when trying on clothes for us. This intensity of communication can already be seen in early adopting countries, especially China, and it may seem strange at first. But there was a time, not long ago, when it seemed strangely ostentatious to put down a mobile phone on a table in a public place.The brain has a finite processing capacity and so what goes into handling increased visual information will have to be taken away from the control of bodily function. People may therefore adapt to the amplified intensity of visual stimuli by moving ever more slowly. We will need more space for these intense activities and the obvious place is the street, where we will need more space for people. Road space will have to narrow and footways will have to widen. We will need more places to sit and lean - to be sticky.And this presents a choice for designers: continue to disagree about the best way to measure density or embrace intensity and anticipate the radical transformation of place.

Dottorato di ricerca in Economia e territorio ; Il cambiamento tecnologico comporta una "rimodellatura" e, a volte, un vero e proprio rovesciamento dell'ordine esistente all'interno delle organizzazioni produttive. La conoscenza generata dall'innovazione tecnologica, per essere "assorbita", necessita di un corredo di pratiche organizzative adeguate: per tale ragione è sempre più stretto il processo co-evolutivo tra sviluppo tecnologico e cambiamento organizzativo. Il coordinamento e la gestione delle sinergie e dei feedbacks tra diversi aspetti dell'attività innovativa diventa una specifica linea d'azione strategica per le imprese al fine di ottenere performances economiche superiori. La stretta complementarità tra investimenti in beni tangibili (nuove tecnologie) e intangibili (struttura organizzativa), da cui scaturisce una maggiore crescita della produttività, è il fulcro del nuovo approccio a queste tematiche. L'ipotesi di complementarità nei processi innovativi assume particolare rilievo con l'avvento delle tecnologie ICT, con la loro natura generalista o aspecifica (general purpose technology), il loro carattere ampiamente pervasivo, e l'esigenza connessa di una prestazione a più alto contenuto cognitivo e relazionale (Breshnahan et al. 2002, Brynjolfsson et al., 2000, Brynjolfsson et al., 2002, Bugamelli e Pagano 2004). La penetrazione di queste tecnologie nel tessuto produttivo favorisce lo sviluppo di diversi input complementari e comporta diverse ondate di innovazioni "secondarie" che creano nuovi prodotti e nuovi processi, dando luogo a periodi più o meno prolungati di aggiustamento strutturale che coinvolgono la riorganizzazione aziendale e l'implementazione delle pratiche del lavoro ad alta performance o High Performance Workplace Practices (Breshanan e Trajtenberg 1995). Quest'ultime si esplicitano in una serie di azioni che hanno nell'empowerment delle risorse umane l'elemento centrale, e che si concretizzano nella riduzione dei livelli gerarchici, nell'assunzione generalizzata di responsabilità, nel coinvolgimento dei lavoratori, nello svolgimento di ruoli attivi, nel lavoro in team, nella polivalenza e nella policompetenza, nei sistemi di valutazione della performance e dei suggerimenti dal basso, e infine nelle buone relazioni industriali. La concettualizzazione dell'organizzazione come un insieme di elementi profondamente eterogenei ma complementari risale a Milgrom e Roberts (1990 e 1995) che, dapprima, ne forniscono una definizione basata sulle proprietà di supermodularità della funzione di redditività dell'impresa, e poi modellano il raggruppamento delle pratiche risultanti dalla complementarità tra innovazioni tecnologiche e cambiamenti organizzativi. Implicita nella definizione di complementarità è l'idea che fare di più in una certa attività non impedisce di fare di più in un'altra, contrariamente alla teoria tradizionale dell'impresa in cui l'ipotesi di rendimenti di scala decrescenti può porre dei vincoli alla possibilità di incremento simultaneo delle variabili di scelta dell'impresa. Le analisi empiriche hanno messo in rilievo come frequentemente innovazioni tecnologiche ed organizzative siano adottate congiuntamente e come entrambe influiscano sulle performances delle imprese (Black e Lynch 2000, Bresnahan, Brynjolfsson e Hitt 2002, Brynjolfsson, Lindbeck e Snower 1996, Malone et al. 1994, Pini 2006, Pini et al. 2010). Nel nostro paese gli studi empirici sulle complementarità tra sfere innovative sono ancora pochi. I principali lavori di natura econometrica realizzati, sulla base di limitati campioni di imprese a livello provinciale, sono attribuibili a Cristini et al. (2003 e 2008), Leoni (2008), Mazzanti et al. (2006), Piva et al. (2005), Pini et al. (2010). Un aspetto poco indagato, anche nei lavori citati, è quello dell'interazione tra tecnologie ICT, cambiamenti organizzativi e pratiche lavorative ad alta performance sulla produttività del lavoro, che è proprio l'argomento specifico che ci siamo proposti di indagare. Preliminarmente abbiamo ricostruito il dibattito teorico ed empirico sul ruolo di driver al fine dell'ottenimento di performances superiori delle tecnologie ICT, dei cambiamenti organizzativi e delle nuove pratiche del lavoro, singolarmente presi. In una seconda fase abbiamo verificato l'esistenza di legami virtuosi tra le tre attività innovative e la produttività del lavoro mettendo in evidenza le complementarità tra le sfere innovative. Per questo abbiamo effettuato un'analisi empirica utilizzando due fonti principali: IX e X indagine sulle imprese manifatturiere del Mediocredito Centrale (ora Capitalia) e la Community Innovation Survey (Cis-4) dell'Istat. Questi ultimi dati sono integrati con quelli di bilancio delle imprese società di capitali attive dal 2001 al 2008, con i caratteri strutturali del Registro delle imprese (Asia), con i dati del commercio estero (Coe), e dell'occupazione (Oros). Seguendo il productivity approach, abbiamo ricercato i legami di complementarità eseguendo, con il software STATA 10, una serie di regressioni multivariate, utilizzando funzioni di produzione aggiustate con le strategie innovative e le loro interazioni. I modelli, stimati con la tecnica dell'Ordinary Least Square (OLS), sono differenti a seconda della tipologia di dati disponibili: con i dati Mediocredito si è stimata una funzione di produzione di tipo Cobb-Douglas, per i dati Cis-4 un stimato un modello a effetti fissi tramite una funzione di produzione di tipo Translog. Se il ricorso alla funzione Cobb-Douglas è ricorrente nella letteratura internazionale, soprattutto per stimare gli effetti delle singole strategie innovative sulla produttività del lavoro (Black e Lynch 2001, 2004, Breshnan et al. 2002, Gera e Gu 2004), l'utilizzo di una funzione Translog, è scelta assolutamente non ricorrente in letteratura per quanto riguarda l'oggetto di analisi. A tal riguardo ci si è ispirati al lavoro di Amess (2003), nel quale vengono valutati gli effetti del management buyouts sull'efficienza di lungo termine delle imprese manifatturiere della Gran Bretagna. Inoltre abbiamo testato la presenza di complementarità attraverso l'analisi delle differenze in termini di performance, suddividendo le imprese in base a diverse combinazioni nell'utilizzo delle strategie innovative. Un aspetto da rilevare è che, le nostre analisi realizzate sul panel integrato Cis-4 utilizzano un campione particolarmente numeroso e rappresentativo della realtà industriale italiana, un fatto, come detto, non frequente negli studi sull'argomento condotti nel nostro Paese. I risultati ottenuti dall'analisi di entrambi i campioni sono in linea con i principali studi empirici italiani (Cristini et al. 2003 e 2008, Mazzanti et al. 2006, Pini 2006, Pini et al. 2010), convalidando ampiamente l'ipotesi di un impatto positivo delle tre strategie innovative sull'aumento delle performances produttive delle imprese, anche se implementate singolarmente in azienda. Per quanto riguarda la verifica di un legame di complementarità tra le tre aree innovative emerge, chiaramente un effetto additivo sul valore aggiunto attraverso l'analisi dei differenziali e seguendo l'approccio sulla supermodularità di Milgrom e Roberts (1990, 1995). L'aspetto più rilevante dei risultati ottenuti è costituito dal fatto che alcune variabili diventano particolarmente significative quando le imprese le adottano simultaneamente: ciò vale in particolare per la formazione e la partnership in R&D. L'attività di formazione è associata positivamente alla presenza di tecnologie ICT e all'innovazione organizzativa, intesa come instaurazione di partnership per la R&D. Inoltre dall'analisi sui dati Mediocredito emerge, in conformità alla teoria skill biased technical change, una propensione a domandare lavoratori in possesso di qualifiche più elevate da parte delle imprese che hanno implementato in maniera significativa cambiamenti tecnologico-organizzativi (Berman, Bound e Griliches1994, Breshnan et al. 2002, Draca, Sadun e Van Reenen 2006). ; Technological development results in a "reshaping" and, sometimes, a complete change within existing productive structures. The knowledge brought about by technological innovations, to be incorporated need a wealth of suitable structural procedures: for this reason the evolution between the technological development and the structural change is getting narrower. The coordination and management of the sinergies and feedbacks among the different aspects of the innovative activity becomes a line of strategic action within the companies to obtain superior economic performances. The strict complementarity between investments in tangible goods (new technologies) and intangibles ones ( organization structure), which brings about a better productivity growth, is the pivot of the new approach to these thematics. The complementarity hypothesis in the innovative processes is particularly important with the advent of the ICT technologies, with their general purpose technology, their widely pervesive characters and the associated requirements of a knowledge at a higher contexct. (Breshnahan et al. 2002, Brynjolfsson et al., 2000, Brynjolfsson et al., 2002, Bugamelli e Pagano 2004). The penetration of these technologies in the productive frame favours the development of the different complementary inputs and allows several flows of "secondary" innovations, which creates new products and processes, bringing more or less long sructural adjustments which include the business reorganization and to carry out work documentation at high performance or High Performance Workplace Practices (Breshanan e Trajtenberg 1995). The latter can be explained in a series of actions which have in the human resources empowerment its central element (unit) and which are reliased with the reduction of the hierarchical levels of employment at general responsibility level, bringing in the employees in active running roles, in working as a team with many duties and competence, in the methods of valuing performance and suggesions from below and lastly in good industial relations. La concettualizzazione dell'organizzazione come un insieme di elementi profondamente eterogenei ma complementari risale a Milgrom e Roberts (1990 e 1995) che, dapprima, ne forniscono una definizione basata sulle proprietà di supermodularità della funzione di redditività dell'impresa, e poi modellano il raggruppamento delle pratiche risultanti dalla complementarità tra innovazioni tecnologiche e cambiamenti organizzativi. Implicita nella definizione di complementarità è l'idea che fare di più in una certa attività non impedisce di fare di più in un'altra, contrariamente alla teoria tradizionale dell'impresa in cui l'ipotesi di rendimenti di scala decrescenti può porre dei vincoli alla possibilità di incremento simultaneo delle variabili di scelta dell'impresa. The notion of the organisation as a collection of elements extremely different, but complementary, goes back to Milgrom and Roberts (1990 e 1995) who, at first, gave a definition based on the properties of modular dimensions of the firm income capacity and then they (the set of elements) put together the resulting documentation due to the complementarity between technological innovations and structural changes. Implicit to the complementariety definition, is the idea that to do more in a certain activity does not exclude to do more in another one; this is to the contrary to the firm traditional theory where the hypothesis of decreasing range efficiency can limit the possible simultaneous increase of the firm variable choices. The empiric analysis have put in evidence that often technological and structural innovetions are taken together and that both influence the firms performances (Black e Lynch 2000, Bresnahan, Brynjolfsson e Hitt 2002, Brynjolfsson, Lindbeck e Snower 1996, Malone et al. 1994, Pini 2006, Pini et al. 2010). In our country the empiric studies on the complementarity within the innovative fields are still few. The major econometric works realised, based on limited samples at provincial level are ascribed to Cristini et al. (2003 e 2008), Leoni (2008), Mazzanti et al. (2006), Piva et al. (2005), Pini et al. (2010). The integration within the ICT technologies, stuctural changes, work habits at high performance on work productivity are aspects investigated insufficiently even on the studies already mentioned. This is the specific subject we propose to examine. At first we have reconstructed the theoric and empiric argument on the driver role aiming to obtain performances better than the the ICT technologies, stuctural developments, work habits, each taken individually. In a second phase we have verified the existence of virtual bonds between the innovative activities and labour productivity putting in evidence the complementariety within the innovative areas. For this reason we carried out an empiric analysis using two main sources: IX and X investigation on manufactury firms of Mediocredito Centrale (now Capitalia) and the Community Innovation Survey (Cis-4) by Istat. These last data are put together with the ones of active plc (public limited companies) balances from 2001 to 2008 with structural characteristics according to Companies Register (Asia), foreign trade data (Coe) and employment (Oros). By following the productivity approach we searched complementarity bonds, achieved with software STATA 10, a range of changeble regressions, using production activities related to innovative strategies and their interactions. The samples, based on the Ordinary Least Square (OLS) technique, are different according to the type of data: available with Mediocredito data, we valued a production function of the Cobb-Douglas type; for the Cis-4 was valued a sample at fixed results using a production function of Tanslog type. If going back to the Cobb-Douglas function appears again in the international literature, especially to value the consequences of single innovative strategies on labour productivity (Black e Lynch 2001, 2004, Breshnan et al. 2002, Gera e Gu 2004), the use of a Translog funtion, is chosen absolutely, without going back to literature when referring to the object of the analysis. From this point of view, we were influenced by Amess' (2003) work, where were valued the results of the management buyouts on the long term efficiency of manifacturing industies in Great Britain. Besides we tested the presence of complementarity by using the analysis of the differences based on performance, by dividing the firms according to their different utilization of innovative strategies. An aspect to take into consideration is that, our analysis carried out on the integrated Cis-4 panel utilise a rather special and large sample which represents the Italian industrial reality, a fact, as already mentioned, not common in the studies undertaken in our Country on this subject. The results obtained from the analysis of both samples are in line with the principal Italian empiric studies (Cristini et al. 2003 e 2008, Mazzanti et al. 2006, Pini 2006, Pini et al. 2010), widely confirming the hipothesys of a positive impact within the three innovative strategies on the companies increase of the producteve performances, even if singularly employed by the business. As regards the examination of a complementarity connection within the three innovative areas, emerges clearly an additive effect on its added value using the analysis of the differentials and approching the super modularity of Milgrom e Roberts (1990, 1995). The most important aspect of these results is that some variables become particularly significative when the firms use them simultaneously: this is particularly valid at educational level and partnership in R&D. The activity at educational level is positively associated to ICT technologies and structural innovetions, understood as the setting up of partnership for R&D. In addition from the analysis of Mediocredito data emerges, according to the skill biased technical change theory, a tendency by the companies, which have made significant techinical-structural changes to look for employees with higher qualification levels (Berman, Bound e Griliches1994, Breshnan et al. 2002, Draca, Sadun e Van Reenen 2006).

Hubo un tiempo que las fronteras de la intimidad estuvieron defendidas por el tiempo y por el espacio. No hace mucho eran, precisamente, el tiempo y la distancia los que mantenían indemne a la intimidad. La sociedad era otra. Los medios de transporte evolucionaron poco a poco. En los últimos años las comunicaciones dieron un salto hacia el futuro de manera asombrosa. Con los avances se despertó, la ambición del ser humano por el conocimiento y la información. Así pues, se reconoció masivamente el valor de la información. Como contrapartida, el derecho a la intimidad se vio afectado y comenzó su defensa. Se desató una lucha enfurecida entre el derecho a la intimidad y la libertad de información. De ahí, en 1890 en los Estados Unidos, Samuel Warren y Louis Brandeis, publican, en la Harvard Law Review, un artículo con el título Right to privacy en el cual defienden la protección de refracciones de la personalidad humana. Esta nueva dimensión merecedora de protección ante los peligros provocados por la masificación de la difusión de informaciones a través de la prensa escrita fue por los autores identificada como el Right to be let alone. La batalla del derecho a la intimidad continuó y continúa hasta hoy a medida que aparecen nuevas técnicas de procesamiento de datos, formas más rápidas, eficaces y económicas de almacenar y transportar el dato con la revolución tecnológica. Los campos de batalla se van reciclando. Hoy, con la sociedad de la información se ha producido una nueva imagen del hombre, definido por Frosini como un 'hombre artificial', para referirse a la dimensión psicológica de un hombre nuevo que vive en un mundo artificial, creado por el propio hombre y no por la naturaleza. Es innegable que esta revolución tecnológica tiene generado profundos cambios en la dinámica de la sociedad actual y en el comportamiento de las personas. Hoy, las nuevas tecnologías de la información y comunicación (en adelante TIC's) forman parte de la sociedad, es mucho más, son ella misma. Esta es la sociedad de la información, la sucesora de la sociedad industrial, con una cultura transnacional, globalizada y conectada en red. Todos estos cambios en la historia de la humanidad siempre exigen una respuesta por parte de los sistemas que los gobiernan. De la misma manera que el sistema jurídico en los que se sustentan debe ser dinámico para acompañar estas mudanzas y cumplir con su función social. Fue exactamente lo que Warren y Brandeis sugerían en el comienzo de su opúsculo cuando expresaban "(…) es un principio tan viejo como el 'common law' que el individuo debe gozar de total protección en su persona y en sus bienes, sin embargo, resulta necesario, de vez en cuando, redefinir con precisión la naturaleza y la extensión de esta protección. Los cambios políticos, sociales y económicos imponen el reconocimiento de nuevos derechos, y el 'common law', en su eterna juventud, evoluciona para dar cabida a las demandas de la sociedad". En la época en la que dichos autores publicaron su artículo, los medios tecnológicos de intrusión en la vida privada era la fotografía sin permiso y la distribución por la prensa. Después de más de un siglo, las denuncias de vulneración a la intimidad se realizan contra otras familias tecnológicas. El Tribunal Constitucional español (en adelante TC), dentro de su amplia jurisprudencia en esta materia, ha ido perfilando diferentes dimensiones dentro de ese derecho de difícil definición, que es la intimidad. Aquéllas que se han dibujado en función de las diferentes amenazas frente a las que se ha de articular la protección de este derecho, no definido constitucionalmente y de doble proyección. Lo ha hecho en todo caso desde una formulación amplia, no en vano el concepto de intimidad como señala la doctrina (más allá de esa referencia clásica al estudio de Warren y Brandeis), es esencialmente abierto, pues '¿Qué relación existe entre las inmisiones de ruidos evitables insoportables en el propio domicilio (STC 119/2001, de 24 de mayo) y las indagaciones o investigaciones sobre partes íntimas del cuerpo (STC 37/1989, de 15 de febrero)? Garantizar al individuo un ámbito reservado de su vida frente a la acción y el conocimiento de los demás es el objeto de este derecho que ahora tratamos. Éste ámbito se protege tanto respecto de los poderes públicos como de los particulares, y se encuentra vinculado de manera inmediata y directa con el respecto de su dignidad como persona, su personalidad, siendo necesario para mantener su calidad mínima de vida humana. Como señaló el TC en su sentencia 20/1992, de 14 de febrero, sin este derecho no sería realizable, ni concebible la existencia de la dignidad que a todos quiere asegurar la norma fundamental. La elección del tema de esta investigación deriva del hecho que la revolución tecnológica ha traído consecuencias importantísimas al mundo del derecho constitucional. Los avances de las últimas décadas han incidido considerablemente en el concepto del derecho a la intimidad, de la misma manera que el uso masivo de las redes sociales son unos de los motores de este cambio. Las fronteras entre lo público y lo privado son cada vez más porosas. Por consiguiente, han aparecido elementos nuevos que nos obligan a realizar nuevas valoraciones sobre las relaciones de las personas entre sí, de éstos con la naturaleza, y de su convivencia con las nuevas tecnologías de la información. Dentro de este contexto, de las tecnologías de información, internet es la gran estrella, razón por la cual, en esta investigación, daremos mayor énfasis a internet y redes sociales. La hipótesis que se traduce es que la incorporación de las nuevas tecnologías de la información (en adelante NTI) en la sociedad actual, ha abierto el debate sobre la necesidad de establecer normas que restrinjan su uso en beneficio de la protección de los derechos fundamentales, como la intimidad. El control electrónico al que nos vemos sometidos produce efectos negativos que inciden de lleno en nuestra vida familiar e intima, porque nos somete, a un 'juicio universal permanente'. La tecnología de la información ha revolucionado la sociedad y sigue provocando cambios. Cambios de hábitos, de necesidades, de prioridades y aun de evaluación de los derechos. Internet presupone una amenaza al derecho a la intimidad. La red no es solo un medio de comunicación, sino que también se configura como un nuevo medio de vigilancia, no solo por parte del Estado sino también por particulares curiosos. Los peligros de este uso masivo de internet, pide a gritos mecanismos de defensa que hagan eficaz la protección horizontal del derecho (Drittwirkung) y no solo frente a las agresiones del poder público. Los riesgos de vulneración del derecho a la intimidad son interminables. Mencionaremos algunos de ellos, por ejemplo, el actual problema con los motores de búsqueda como google, que eternizan la disponibilidad de informaciones en la red. Un verdadero 'atestado de muerte' del derecho al olvido digital. Los sistemas de vigilancia y seguimiento en lugares estratégicos como aeropuertos, centros comerciales, calles etc., enaltecidos sobre todo tras los últimos ataques terroristas en Paris, Bruselas y Niza. Estos dispositivos suministran una gran cantidad de información biográfica y geofísica, representan sin duda una repercusión negativa sobre la intimidad de las personas. Además, solo para tener una idea de este contexto, citamos otros sistemas tecnológicos de seguimiento y vigilancia existentes. Las tabletas y los teléfonos móviles con tecnología 3G y 4G están equipados con GPS (Global Positioning Systems) que permiten la situación exacta de los usuarios a través de satélites. En Estados Unidos, utilizan el sistema de "localización social" denominado Verizon Chaperone para saber dónde se encuentran las personas en cada momento. Junto a los GPS, las cajas negras en los vehículos, que muchos usuarios desconocen que la tienen, están dotados de una tecnología EDRS (Electronic Data Recorders) que recogen y gravan datos como la velocidad, el uso de cinturones, el estado de frenos, aceleración, etc. Una gran mayoría de ciudadanos no tienen conocimiento de otras tecnologías de vigilancia y rastreo como el sistema ANPR (Automatic Number Plate Reconigtion); de la identificación mediante radio frecuencia (RFID, Radio Frecuency Identification), etc. Igualmente, las transacciones que realizamos a través de internet pueden ser vigiladas, sin adentrar en el mundo del google earth, google street view, drones, etc. que invaden cualquier espacio. Como se nota la realidad es asustadora. La convergencia entre las diversas tecnologías de la información y comunicación, parece un fenómeno imparable. La actual realidad está provocando una dificultad creciente para delimitar los medios tradicionales dedicados a la transmisión pública de la información, y los dedicados a la comunicación privada; entre los 'tradicionales' medios audiovisuales y los medios de telecomunicación. Y el problema va más allá, en pleno auge de los reality show, el derecho a la intimidad también está siendo devaluado a través de su comercio, donde la falta de conciencia de las personas alcanza las esferas más intimas. Parece que los tiempos futuros serán aún más controlados, se pronostica una invasión creciente sobre esta parcela íntima del ser humano; "(…) el futuro no estará dominado por un 'Gran Hermano', sino por cientos de pequeños hermanos que constantemente irrumpirán y observarán nuestras vidas". Esto se traducirá "(…) en la captura sistemática de los eventos diarios de nuestras vidas; cada lugar al que viajemos, cada palabra que digamos, cada página que leamos". Junto a estos programas existen otros, que no se diferencian de los reality show, la única diferencia es que en lugar de comerciar su propia intimidad, lo hacen con la intimidad ajena. Los que no son devotos de estos fenómenos televisivos, sufren la imposición de ese tipo de información, sin poder hacer nada al respecto. Hasta los programas de noticias e informativos convencionales han entrado en la dinámica del 'consumo de la intimidad'. Con la excusa del derecho a la información y a la libertad de expresión se está poniendo en peligro el derecho a la intimidad. Es evidente la crisis de este derecho. En la sociedad de la información, la exposición de la vida íntima es cada vez más intensa y cotidiana. Se verifica una deformación progresiva de la noción de intimidad en muchas camadas sociales y no se notan reacciones proporcionales, sobre todo, la generación de los 'nativos digitales'. Vivimos en verdad una redefinición de los contornos del público y del privado. Los 'nativos digitales' crecen con la aceptación de la pérdida del anonimato y de la intimidad, que a nosotros nos parece tan esencial. Adoptan un concepto de dicho derecho completamente distinto de las generaciones anteriores. La gran mayoría de los ciudadanos no son conscientes de las enormes consecuencias, del trasfondo de sus 'actos informáticos cotidianos' y así, cualquier nuevo desarrollo se asume y celebra como un avance, obviando la reflexión crucial de si el derecho a la intimidad cabe en este mundo actual tal y como se ha entendido hasta ahora. No en vano, el directivo de Google, Eric Schmidt, afirma que internet juega en contra del individuo, asevera que "(…) los jóvenes quizás tengan que cambiar su nombre en el futuro para escapar de su antigua actividad online". Los grandes de internet no han dudado en sentenciar la muerte de la privacidad en el mundo online bajo la premisa de que, "(…) si no quieres que algo se sepa, mejor no hacerlo", porque "(…) nosotros tenemos idea de lo que eres, de lo que te importa y de quiénes son tus amigos"; o como afirma Zuckerberg, fundador de facebook, "(…) la Era de la privacidad ha acabado". ¿Están ellos correctos? Ante todos estos hechos, lo que no queda duda, es que, las NTI presentan un potencial sin precedentes para agredir la intimidad. Así, se denota que son interminables las hipótesis que involucran el tema en la misma proporción que las razones que justifican la presente investigación. Este escenario alarmante forma ya parte de nuestra realidad y multiplicará sus manifestaciones en el futuro, salvo que la sociedad arbitre mecanismos que maticen tal intromisión en la esfera individual invirtiendo la tendencia inaugurada por el nefasto principio, "(…) si no tengo nada que esconder, no tengo por qué preocuparme por el respeto de mi privacidad". En el mundo antiguo o pasado era fácil sustraerse de la curiosidad ajena, retirándose a un lugar apartado y no suministrando noticias personales, no existían medios de identificación inmediata, el reconocimiento o la noticia cierta sobre la persona se conseguía a través de medios de comunicación y difusión lentos. Hoy, la realidad es totalmente otra, los datos estadísticos comprueban que, a finales del 2012, en el mundo, alrededor de 2.500 millones de personas estaban en línea (incremento del 10% anual), 241 millones más que el año anterior. La media de acceso en Europa, según esos datos es de 63% y de Norte América 78%. En 2013 se estima que casi el 40% de la población mundial estaba conectada a internet. El porcentaje de personas que utilizan internet en los países desarrollados alcanzó a finales del 2012 el 73,4%. En términos absolutos, casi la mitad de los conectados a internet en el mundo son en Asia Pacífico, siendo 1.133 millones en 2012. En España, en general el acceso ronda el 70% en 2013 unos 19 millones de españoles "viven conectados" a internet y consultan el móvil unas 150 veces al día. El 53,8% de la población se conecta a diario, siendo el 86% de los jóvenes entre 16 a 24 años. Veinticinco millones de españoles acceden a internet, y las redes sociales forman parte de la vida del 64,1% de los usuarios (del 95% de los jóvenes entre 16 a 24 años). Por cuanto a los usos administrativos, el 45% de la ciudadanía interactuó con las Administraciones Públicas a través de internet. En términos comparativos relativos a 2012, los conectados a internet en España son el 67,2% (38.7% en 2006), con 17,5 millones de usuarios de Facebook, ocupando un lugar medio en la Unión Europea frente a países como Holanda (93%) o Noruega (96,9%). Para América Latina, los datos más recientes señalan que un 48% (32,1 % en 2009 y 14,4% en 2006) de la población de América Latina (sin Caribe) están ya conectados a internet. Los datos estadísticos demuestran la utilización masiva del internet en el mundo. Números estos generados a partir de la revolución tecnológica, se puede considerar internet el grande paradigma de esta revolución, sin duda un medio de comunicación de grande relevancia, sin embargo, generador de grandes controversias también. En este estudio se investigará este nuevo entorno que involucra el derecho a la intimidad y cuáles son los efectos que derivan de esta convivencia en dicho derecho. Es sin duda, un tema de innegable actualidad que exige una renovación constante, considerando el imparable desarrollo tecnológico. El estudio es arduo porque el dinamismo de la evolución tecnológica es sorprendente y ocurre en paralelo a la experiencia jurídica exigiendo una doble dedicación porque son distintas ciencias en confluencia, creando situaciones cuya resolución va más allá de sus propios muros, exigiendo del jurista estudios en mundos científicos foráneos. En este sentido, oportunas y estimulantes las palabras del autor ANTONI ROIG cuando asevera que "(…) el jurista debería acercarse sin complejos a esta propuesta multidisciplinar de estudio de las libertades informativas, si de verdad quiere complementar la protección jurídica de derechos fundamentales con el también apasionante mundo de la tecnología (…)". El derecho a la intimidad ya es un clásico en la doctrina constitucional en razón de las innumerables implicaciones que ofrece a lo largo de las evoluciones sociales, justamente por acompañar los cambios de perfil de la sociedad. Desde su primera formulación hace más de cien años, ha adquirido un nuevo y diverso significado tras la aparición de los ordenadores en el campo de la información, ya que este nuevo instrumento es como una prótesis de la inteligencia humana que con su capacidad de memorizar, procesar los datos y repartir informaciones se ha convertido en un 'informante electrónico', un 'cerebro artificial' capaz de controlar, cotejar y entrecruzar los datos recogidos. Es por esta razón que es reconocida en la doctrina la dificultad en la definición de este derecho, a pesar de las diversas tentativas, persiste el problema en delimitar los límites entre lo público y lo privado, entre la esfera privada y la íntima, entre la esfera íntima y la esfera del secreto, así es porque, estos límites son muy difusos y este derecho evoluciona con mucha rapidez, a tal punto, que hoy, se puede observar que raros son los conceptos jurídicos aún conectados a la esencia del ser humano. Las implicaciones de las TIC's en los derechos fundamentales son enormes. Varios son los derechos y principios constitucionales afectados genéricamente por el asombroso desarrollo de todas las nuevas tecnologías. En España, el derecho a la intimidad está expreso en el artículo 18.1 de la Constitución (en adelante CE) y, atendiendo al mandato contenido en el artículo 53.1 CE y, en consonancia con el artículo 81.1 CE, el desarrollo normativo para la protección del derecho a la Intimidad Personal y Familiar ha correspondido a la Ley Orgánica 1/1982 - de 5 de mayo - de Protección Civil del Derecho al Honor, a la Intimidad Personal y Familiar y a la Propia Imagen (en adelante LODHI). En los últimos tiempos, y debido a la necesidad de afrontar estos nuevos riesgos planteados por la tecnología informática, tanto la doctrina como los operadores jurídicos se han visto obligados a replantear el concepto de intimidad. No hay incertidumbre que todo este avance ha producido una mejora sustancial de nuestra democracia, pero también, no hay duda que aportó muchos problemas hasta ahora sin soluciones. Dicho fenómeno, lanza a cada día una multitud de interrogantes que el derecho, por la extrema dinámica casuística, no consigue acompañar y debe responder eficazmente a la sociedad. La metodología utilizada para esta investigación será la teórica doctrinaria y jurisprudencial. Cumple además aclarar que, la distinción entre información y comunicación vendría dada porque la 'información' pretende la libre difusión de datos de todo tipo, y tendencialmente es abierta; la 'comunicación' busca acercar a las personas y facilitar los contactos y la transmisión de todo tipo de mensajes y opiniones entre ellas, de modo que tendería más bien a un contexto más cerrado o privado. No obstante, se ha destacado acertadamente que el aspecto más interesante de las nuevas tecnologías es la convergencia entre la tecnología de las telecomunicaciones, la informática y la radiodifusión, de manera que "(…) en el futuro inmediato ya no tendrá sentido entender el teléfono como algo diferente de la televisión y esta como algo muy distinto de un periódico". Por tanto, cada vez es más difícil, y tiene menos sentido, distinguir entre la información y la comunicación, y ello aboga por una visión amplia y convergente de las nuevas tecnologías. Así subrayamos que, desde esta perspectiva, y a efectos de esta investigación, consideraremos las expresiones 'tecnologías de la información y de la comunicación' – TIC's, 'nuevas tecnologías'- NT y 'nuevas tecnologías de información'- NTI, sinónimos. Este impacto de las NTI sobre el derecho fundamental a la intimidad será el objeto de esta investigación. Así, enfocaremos el estudio en 5 Capítulos, todas ellos orientados por la doctrina, legislación y jurisprudencia, sobre todo del Tribunal Constitucional (en adelante TC) y del Tribunal Europeo de Derechos Humanos (en adelante TEDH). En el Capítulo Primero de la tesis, perseguiremos un conocimiento de forma profundizada de la configuración constitucional del derecho a la intimidad en España, empezando por un estudio de la evolución histórica de dicho derecho (sección I). En la sección II analizaremos el controvertido concepto de intimidad, las tendencias doctrinales y las principales interpretaciones sobre el tema del Tribunal Constitucional. Como el derecho a la intimidad está expreso en el artículo 18.1 CE, juntamente con el derecho al honor y el derecho a la imagen, analizaremos, consonante doctrina y jurisprudencia, si se trata de un único derecho – trifonte, o de tres derechos autónomos (sección II.1). Además cuando hablamos de intimidad percibimos que en la vida cotidiana y hasta mismo en algunas doctrinas se hacen uso de las expresiones "privacidad", "vida privada" e "intimidad" como sinónimos. Así, en la sección II.2 investigaremos si estas expresiones designan la misma realidad. Aún con respeto al análisis del tenor del artículo 18 CE, ahora con referencia a los apartados 2,3 y 4 - la inviolabilidad del domicilio, el secreto de las comunicaciones y la autodeterminación informativa respectivamente, examinaremos en la sección II.3, cual es la dinámica existente entre estos derechos y el derecho a la intimidad. Delineada las interpretaciones del artículo 18 de la CE, partiremos para el estudio exhaustivo de los sujetos titulares del derecho a la intimidad (sección III). Ya que la intimidad es un derecho que tiene un carácter individual, innato, abordaremos en la sección III.1 los rasgos de la titularidad de dicho derecho entre los personajes públicos y famosos. En la sección III.2 detallaremos el ejercicio del derecho por los menores de edad, ya que una afectación de su intimidad se presume ser mucho más grave que para cualquier otro sujeto pues afecta al libre desarrollo de su personalidad. En el contexto de la sección III.3 estudiaremos cómo es ejercido el derecho a la intimidad de una persona fallecida ya que los derechos de la personalidad se extinguen con la muerte. De igual forma se estudiará en las secciones III.4 y III.5 si la persona jurídica y extranjeros son sujetos titulares del derecho a la intimidad en España. Aunque el contenido del derecho a la intimidad sea reconocido en la doctrina especializada y en la jurisprudencia como flotante y flexible, porque, como dicho, este derecho acompaña la evolución de la sociedad, dedicaremos a la sección IV el estudio de los intentos doctrinales en delimitarlo. Entre los varios intentos, investigaremos la célebre doctrina alemana de la Sphärentheorie (la teoría alemana de los círculos concéntricos), la tesis maximalista de Fariñas Matoni, entre otros intentos. En el Capítulo Segundo de esta tesis trataremos de los límites del derecho a la intimidad. Dentro de este contexto, partimos del tenor del art. 10.1 CE, donde se extrae que la dignidad humana es el fundamento de la legitimación del orden político español en su conjunto. Este precepto constituye el principio rector supremo del ordenamiento jurídico, es decir, es el núcleo de todo el sistema de valores constitucionalmente establecido. Si así es, cuando hablamos de 'límites de los derechos fundamentales' debemos, por tanto, traer a un primer plano el tema de la dignidad humana. En efecto, empezaremos en la sección I con el estudio de la dignidad humana como fundamento de los límites de los derechos fundamentales. Analizaremos en esta sección las principales sentencias sobre el asunto. Vencido este tema, abordaremos en la sección II, la inexistencia de derechos absolutos y, consecuentemente el análisis de los límites de los derechos fundamentales. Analizaremos la tipología de límites presentados por variada doctrina. El importantísimo valor que tienen los derechos fundamentales en los sistemas democráticos, hace que su limitación se vea sometida al cumplimiento de ciertas condiciones y que se interpreten siempre de forma restrictiva. En este contexto llegaremos al estudio de 'los límites de los límites' (sección III), donde abordaremos la reserva de ley, el contenido esencial y las garantías normativas frente a las limitaciones. En este punto estudiaremos cómo las limitaciones de los derechos fundamentales deben estar habilitadas (art. 53.1 CE) y cual el tipo de ley exigido en cada circunstancia (art. 81.1 CE), también analizaremos qué debe ser entendido por contenido esencial (sección III.1). No obstante, hay situaciones que no resulta suficiente delimitar el objeto del derecho fundamental y fijar los límites que cabe imponer a éste. Puede suceder que sea necesario definir la intensidad en que estos límites deben ser aplicados, así urge investigar la aplicación del principio de la proporcionalidad como criterio orientador, cuyo estudio desarrollaremos en la sección III.2. Pasaremos a analizar en la sección IV, los límites del derecho a la intimidad propiamente dicho, cuyas restricciones pueden estar en la exacta frontera en que la dignidad y la conveniencia del individuo deben ceder ante las exigencias del bienestar general o de la equidad. Así como todos los derechos fundamentales dicho derecho también es susceptible de limitación, sea en su inevitable articulación con otros derechos fundamentales, como la libertad de información, o en el plan de protección de otros bienes jurídicos, como la seguridad pública, prevención y persecución de delitos. Como el derecho a la intimidad reconocido en el apartado primero del art. 18 de la CE tiene la peculiaridad de recibir una doble mención constitucional: en el art. 18.1 CE, en cuanto derecho substantivo, y en el art. 20.4, como límite de los derechos a una comunicación libre, en la sección V nos dedicaremos a estudiar los derechos a una comunicación libre desde la perspectiva constitucional. En la sección VI pasaremos al estudio de los frecuentes conflictos entre el derecho a la intimidad y la libertad de información y expresión, el juicio de la ponderación como medio de solución de estos conflictos, la posición preferente del derecho a la información y los requisitos de la relevancia y la veracidad de la información como criterio legitimador a la invasión de la intimidad (sección VI.1 y VI.2 respectivamente). Se hará también, un estudio de la Ley Orgánica 1/1982 de 5 de mayo, de protección civil del derecho al honor, la intimidad personal y familiar y a la propia imagen, considerando que dicha Ley Orgánica tipifica las intromisiones al derecho a la intimidad que se consideran legítimas e ilegítimas. Daremos énfasis al artículo 7, apartado 1 y 2 – que se refieren a la forma de obtención de una información; el apartado 3 – que se refiere a la divulgación de una información; y el 4 en el quebrantamiento de confianza (sección VI.3). Pues bien, como la intimidad antes de ser un fenómeno jurídico es un fenómeno social, como dicho, es inevitable que su concepto tenga un reconocido carácter flotante pues acompaña los cambios de la sociedad. Así siendo, en la actualidad, más una vez, a partir del desarrollo tecnológico, el derecho a la intimidad adquiere un nuevo perfil. Las nuevas tecnologías de la información, además de propiciar un irrefutable crecimiento económico sin precedentes en todo el planeta, han permitido la captación y mercantilización de datos personales y que la información circule a escala mundial con una rapidez inconcebible. Hoy, las personas, más que destinatarios de la información, corren el riesgo de convertirse en sus rehenes. Así es porque el acceso a las informaciones disponibles permite la creación de retratos que muestran los principales hábitos y prácticas de una persona (teoría del mosaico de Madrid Conesa), revelando facetas de las cuales el propio individuo muchas veces no es consciente y que pueden ser utilizados para diversos fines. Con esta realidad mundial, conservar el derecho a la intimidad intacto se está tornando muy difícil. Los satélites cada vez más modernos exhiben imágenes que eran inimaginables hasta hace poco tiempo. Dentro de todo este avanzado universo tecnológico, no sólo la prensa, empresas o los órganos públicos, sino que también cualquier persona puede invadir la intimidad ajena sin salir de casa. Algunos hablan de la 'industrialización de la indiscreción' como pauta del comportamiento del Estado, de los órganos de comunicación social y también de los particulares, cuya curiosidad acerca de la vida ajena se manifiesta asombrosa. La sociedad de la información está totalmente inmersa en las nuevas tecnologías, en un hábitat donde estamos en permanente contacto con el mundo, aunque creemos que en la mayoría de las veces el mayor riesgo se encuentra en el usuario que en la propia tecnología en sí. En efecto, cerramos este capítulo con la sección VII donde empezaremos a confrontar el tema del derecho a la intimidad en la Era de la sociedad de la información. Hoy en día, se dice, irónicamente, que gozamos de más intimidad que nuestros antepasados precisamente gracias al anonimato de la vida urbana y los medios tecnológicos. Sin embargo, consideramos que en etapas anteriores al desarrollo tecnológico, el respeto a la vida privada se centraba en el uso de los sentidos, tales como la vista o el oído. Se permanecía así dentro de los límites de relaciones naturales y los muros de una casa, la soledad de un lugar desierto, eran suficientes para asegurar la protección de la intimidad y para excluir el conocimiento o la difusión de las acciones y de las palabras de un individuo o de varias personas unidas entre sí por vínculos confidenciales. En el Capítulo Tercero de la tesis trataremos de las nuevas tecnologías de la información propiamente dichas. Plantearemos como las nuevas tecnologías de la información han supuesto, por una parte, grandes ventajas y por otra parte, perjuicios a los ciudadanos. Como estamos hablando de una nueva ciencia en confluencia con el derecho a la intimidad, urge estudiar algunas nociones básicas relativas a las NTI para entender el modo en el que se van a ver afectados los derechos y libertades constitucionalmente reconocidos (sección I). Fundamental comprender de qué se trata cuando hablamos de un mundo digital, de un mundo analógico o de una información digitalizada. Estos conceptos básicos y otros más desarrollaremos en la sección I.1. De igual importancia es la comprensión de las estructuras, los medios de transmisión y el ancho de banda que estudiaremos en la sección I.2 porque estos conceptos ayudan a entender cuál es el entorno fáctico de los problemas jurídicos. Como ya hicimos hincapié, el tema 'nuevas tecnologías de la información' involucra un universo extenso, así, daremos énfasis a internet, pues es el gran protagonista de las tecnologías de la información y, hoy, internet ha convertido en realidad el 'hogar global', en la medida en que cada domicilio de los usuarios de la red constituye la terminal de un sistema integrado universal. Así, buscaremos en la sección I.3 una necesaria aproximación técnica del 'mundo de internet', verificando conceptos, características y evolución, desde la web 1.0, web 2.0 hasta la web 3.0 (sección I.3.1), Todos estos nuevos sistemas socio-técnico-informáticos no solo han puesto de manifiesto el poder de la innovación informática y los beneficios que aportan, como también han revelado nuevas amenazas y desafíos en materia de protección a la intimidad. De ahí, trataremos en la sección II de este capítulo las medidas tecnológicas que están siendo reclamadas para la protección del derecho a la intimidad como la Privacy Enhancing Tecnologie (PET) y la Privacy by Design (PbD). El Capítulo Cuarto se intitula el derecho a la intimidad en internet y sus límites. Expondremos en la sección I, como cuestiones previas, la difícil tarea que representa la protección de la intimidad frente a esta dimensión global que alcanza una publicación en internet. Todos estos aspectos de la 'revolución llamada internet' será objeto en la sección II. Nadie es indiferente a estos avances tecnológicos de las últimas décadas ni a los cambios que, sobre todo, el internet ha desencadenado en distintos ámbitos de la vida personal y social. Las TIC's han propiciado profundos cambios en las pautas del proceso comunicativo. Se ha producido con el adviento internet una convergencia en los medios de comunicación, generando dificultades en la delimitación de las Tecnologías de Información y Comunicación a través de las que se ejerce en la libertad de información y expresión y las que son aptas para el ejercicio de una comunicación libre, este tema será objeto de estudios en la sección III. En la sección IV estudiaremos el derecho a la intimidad en internet. Analizaremos como este proceso ha producido un progresivo extrañamiento del hombre respecto a la naturaleza, paulatinamente sustituida por un ambiente artificial. Cómo el desarrollo de estas mismas tecnologías ha acarreado nuevos riesgos para los derechos y libertades de los ciudadanos debido a la capacidad de las entidades y personas tanto públicas como privadas, de acumular informaciones personales en formato digital para finalidades muy diversas y no siempre perfectamente identificadas. La pérdida de control sobre estas informaciones puede incidir de manera directa en los derechos y libertades ya que esta capacidad de acumulación de grandes cantidades de datos personales hace posible su alteración, manipulación y transmisión a terceros de manera rápida, lo cual incide en la libertad de elección y decisión de los individuos ante la incertidumbre de si sus comunicaciones, actividades o elecciones serán registradas por entidades desconocidas y para finalidades que igualmente ignoran. Otra pregunta que se hace es que una vez revelada voluntariamente una información en un medio virtual, ¿abarcaría sustentar renuncia al derecho a la intimidad?; ¿dejando desamparado a su titular, víctima de su propio poder de decisión sobre lo que considera íntimo o no?, este análisis lo desarrollaremos en la sección V. Vivimos una nueva Era, en un hábitat donde la comunicación a través de la web y de los dispositivos móviles dio voz al diálogo interactivo. Hoy en día, en cualquier lugar, estamos en permanente contacto con el mundo e igualmente vigilados por el mundo. Internet y las redes sociales de internet, como Facebook, Tuenti, Linkedin, Instagram, etc. afectan de forma directa el derecho a la intimidad. Tan grande su afectación que, sin duda, está provocando un cambio en el concepto 'de lo íntimo'. No es difícil observar, por ejemplo, cuando estamos en un restaurante, a las personas que están a nuestro entorno con sus teléfonos, en total silencio, publicando fotografías de la comida que comen e informando en la red donde están y con quien. En internet, el peligro es invisible. Jamás, como en la sociedad de la información, las personas han estado tan expuestas a ojos extraños en su vida cotidiana. Internet está cada vez más presente en todos los espacios donde se desarrollan actividades humanas, difícil no encontrarla en todos los lugares. Internet permite no sólo nuevas, más fáciles y más sofisticadas formas de comunicación, sino también, y como contrapartida, la posibilidad técnica de que se produzcan más injerencias en las mismas. En efecto, daremos énfasis en el estudio de las redes sociales. Así iniciaremos su estudio en la sección VI intitulada las redes sociales como forma de limitación del derecho a la intimidad. Analizaremos los nuevos retos que enfrenta el derecho a la intimidad con las redes sociales que, como dicho, representan uno de los motores del cambio del concepto de intimidad (sección VI.1). Examinaremos los riesgos que plantean las redes sociales para el derecho a la intimidad (sección VI.1.1). Haremos un análisis normativo y un análisis de la evolución legislativa del derecho a la intimidad personal y familiar (art. 18 CE), haciendo especial hincapié en la protección de este derecho en internet y en los servicios asociados a ésta. Para contar con una visión global de la situación también se analizará el ámbito internacional, comunitario o europeo y el nacional (sección VI.1.2). El marco legal en materia de protección de datos en las redes sociales será objeto de estudios en la sección VI.1.3. Los menores de edad y los incapaces, colectivos especialmente vulnerables en las redes sociales, serán analizados en la sección VI.1.4 y, las medidas empleadas en las redes sociales para protección del derecho a la intimidad, serán estudiadas en la sección VI.1.5 respectivamente. También discutiremos otro supuesto de limitación al derecho a la intimidad, la seguridad pública. Analizaremos como el terrorismo, sobre todo después de los atentados de 11 de septiembre de 2001(en adelante 11-S) en Estados Unidos y los más recientes en Paris, en 13 de noviembre de 2015; en Bruselas, en 22 de marzo de 2016 y, en Niza, en 14 de julio de 2016, reabre la discusión sobre la necesidad de intensos métodos de seguridad (por ejemplo, las amplias medidas de seguridad como cámaras de vigilancia, presencia policial, y registros personales en aeropuertos, estaciones, control de telecomunicaciones, actividades privadas etc.) que puedan implicar un recorte en el derecho a la intimidad. El terrorismo ha desencadenado una exagerada colecta de informaciones personales, la intromisión en la intimidad de los ciudadanos también se consuma por medio de ciberespionaje operada por los sistemas de inteligencia. Hoy, las agencias de inteligencia interceptan comunicaciones realizadas por medio de teléfonos, internet, entre otros. Estos hechos se desprenden diariamente de las noticias en los periódicos, por ejemplo: 'El mundo' – EEUU 'espía' a través de los servidores de Apple, Google o Facebook: "El Gobierno de Barack Obama no sólo tiene información sensible de millones de llamadas telefónicas, también tiene acceso directo a los datos y a los servidores de poderosas empresas de Internet como Google, Facebook o Apple. Una presentación en PowerPoint de la Agencia de Seguridad Nacional (NSA) a la que ha tenido acceso los diarios 'The Guardian' y 'The Washington Post' probaría el control de EEUU sobre el contenido de determinados e-mails, fotografías, vídeos conversaciones de chat o transferencia de archivos.(…)"; - "EEUU vigila de forma 'rutinaria' sitios de noticias, Twitter y redes sociales"; "Un ataque informático expone los correos de centenas de militares británicos"; "El gobierno de Obama espía desde abril las llamadas de millones de ciudadanos", "EE.UU. espió más de 60 millones de llamadas telefónicas en España". Así pues, en la sección VII analizaremos otros supuestos de limitación del derecho a la intimidad beneficiados por el avance de las nuevas tecnologías de la información. En este sentido, discutiremos cómo las nuevas demandas de seguridad pública de la sociedad de la información, con sus avanzados sistemas informáticos, tienen implicado en un recorte en el derecho a la intimidad de sus ciudadanos. Cómo el creciente temor al terrorismo tiene estimulado a la aparición de marcos normativos que restringen o eliminan el derecho a la intimidad (sección VII.1). Dentro de este contexto, la tecnología de la videovigilancia pública es uno de los métodos de seguridad pública cuyo uso indiscriminado tiene preocupado a juristas y activistas de organizaciones no gubernamentales de defensa de las libertades públicas en todo el mundo. En efecto, haremos un análisis de la Ley Orgánica 4/1997 sobre la utilización de videocámaras por las Fuerzas y Cuerpos de Seguridad bajo el prisma del derecho a la intimidad. El Capítulo Quinto lleva el título 'hacia una redefinición del concepto del derecho a la intimidad con el impacto de las nuevas tecnologías de información', donde en la sección I abordaremos el tema la crisis del derecho a la intimidad con esta realidad social que se impone y la perspectiva del incremento futuro de la crisis con el perfil de los nativos digitales. Por ello, la sociedad de la información reclama nuevos derechos. Esta temática será desarrollada en la sección II. Como las TIC's no encuentran entrabes en el tiempo, hacen que los hechos practicados desde hace mucho tiempo, en momentos distantes, y ya olvidados, pueden, ser rescatados por los motores de búsquedas, causando nuevas formas de intromisiones, actuales, y mucho más ruinosas, más allá de aquellos causados en época pretérita. Dentro de este contexto, estudiaremos el derecho al olvido digital como una de las medidas jurídicas discutidas en la actualidad para preservar el derecho a la intimidad en el espacio virtual. Analizaremos una Sentencia de gran repercusión sobre el tema dictada por el Tribunal de Justicia de la Unión Europea (en adelante TJUE) el día 13 de mayo de 2014 (sección II.1). En la sección II.2 abordaremos otro derecho que se presenta en la doctrina especializada como medida jurídica necesaria para garantía de la intimidad. Estamos hablando del derecho al anonimato que es consagrado legalmente en el ámbito de las comunicaciones telefónicas, pero muy discutido en la doctrina en el ámbito de internet como uno de los nuevos derechos fundamentales vinculados a la red. Para algunos autores se ha configurado como el derecho más importante de cuantos se reconocen a los internautas, como reacción frente a la monitorización de las huellas de navegación. Ante estas discusiones doctrinarias, analizaremos el derecho al olvido y el derecho al anonimato como posibles medidas jurídicas protectoras del derecho a la intimidad en el mundo virtual. Comprobada esta realidad, urge una consecuente redefinición del derecho a la intimidad con el impacto de las NTI, que trataremos en la sección III. De esta manera, ancorado en algunos entendimientos ya sedimentados en la doctrina constitucional y conclusiones formuladas en cada sección de este estudio, buscaremos descubrir algunas cuestiones. Entre ellas, destacamos la necesidad de reconceptualización del derecho a la intimidad y de las libertades comunicativas. Sin embargo, para una correcta conclusión a respecto del tema central, imperioso será analizar otras cuestiones como: ¿Está el derecho a la intimidad amenazado a extinción? ¿Los nativos digitales están creando pautas de comunicación en internet que pueden atingir al derecho a la intimidad de todos los demás? ¿Considerando el ejercicio de la propia voluntad en la definición de 'lo intimo', la intimidad hoy ha evolucionado tanto que tiene su ámbito reducido para todos? ¿La seguridad pública puede transformar el derecho a la intimidad en un derecho ficticio? ¿La reglamentación del derecho al olvido digital y del derecho al anonimato es suficiente para asegurar la intimidad en internet? Estos son algunos de los principales aspectos que se pretende desarrollar en este trabajo de investigación. Por fin, presentaremos algunas sugerencias, propuestas y recomendaciones dirigidas a los servicios de redes sociales y usuarios para la protección del derecho a la intimidad (anexo).

Issue 17.4 of the Review for Religious, 1958. ; JULY 15,= 1958, " Unceasing Prayer Venerable Anne de Xainctongb : The General Chapter' ". VOLUME 17 For. Your Information 'J Book Revtews (~uesfions and -~Answe~ Roman Documents about: Religious kit:e ""' ': - :::''~ "> :'~ ': " ~; ¯ Coedu~atlon " °. The Family RI::VIi::W FOR RI:LIGIOUS VOLUME 17 JULY, 1958 NUMnER 4 CONTI::NTS FOR YOUR INFORMAT_ION .193 UNCEASING PRAYER--Edward Hageraann, S.J . 194 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 200 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE-- Sister Marie Celestine, U.T.S.V . 201 PROFICIENTS~WHO DO NOT PROGRESS-- Hugh Kelly, S.J . 211 THE GENERAL CHAPTER--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 223 SOME BOOKS RECEIVED . 231 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS~R. F. smith, S.J . 232 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 241~ QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS: 20. Baptism in Another Rite and Subsequent Profession . 250 21. Authority over and Direction of Institutes of Religious Women . " . . . ¯ . 251 22. Duties of the Cardinal Protector . 252 23. Idiomatic Translations of Constitutions . 253 24. Moment of Covering the Ciborium at the Consecration . 253 25. Pausing Before Prayers at the Foot of the Alta'r . 25~4 26. Place of the Sign of the .Cross on the Missal . 254 27. Simple Genuflhction Between Consecration andCommunion,254 28. Interference in External and Internal Government . 255 29. May a Superioress Bless Her Subjects? . 256 REVIE~Y¢" FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1958, Vol. 17, No. 4. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approval~ Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1958, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard. St. Louis 18, Missouri. For Your Int:ormat:ion Editor's Golden Jubilee FATHER HENRY WILLMERING will celebrate~ the Golden Jubilee of his entrance into the Society of Jesus on July 25, 1958. Father Willmering has been teaching Sacred Scripture to Jesuit seminarians for thirty years. He became a member of our editorial board in 1955. "His fellow editors feel sure that the readers of the REVIEW will join them in congratulating Father Willmering and helping him by their prayers to thank God for the great privilege of spend-ing fifty years in the religious life. Delayed Vocations In the May, 1957, number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (p. 154) we published an announcement at the suggestion of a" priest who was spiritual director to some women who were interested in dedicating their lives to God, but who were ham-pered by the fact that they were older than the age limit for admission in most religic~us communities, ,~ere widows, and so forth. This priest thought it would be very helpful to others, as well as to himself, to know of religious or secular institutes th. at would accept such candidates. Two replies were published in our November, 1957, number (p.342); and a third reply was published in our March, 1958, issue (p. 90). We have recently received a fourth reply from the Daughters of the Paraclete, a group of women who have organized and are taking steps to become a secular institute in the diocese of Little Rock. The Daughters of the Paraclete now have two houses in the diocese of Little Rock. They seek further candidates and realize that these must be obtained from outside the state of Arkansas. Any single Catholic ~voman of good character and good physical and mental health is eligible for entrance. There (Continued on page 210) 193 U, nceasing Prayer Edward I-lagemannr S.J. OUR LORD told us, "We ought always to pray" (Lk. 18:1). His words were echoed by St. Paul when he wrote, "Pray without ceasing" (I Thess. 5~17). Dif-ferent ways of explaining this seemingly impossible behest have often been proposed. I here wish to call to mind .an explanation found in. the ascetical writings of certain French Jesuits from the seventeenth century to the present. What they teach is not, however, original nor exclusively their own. Father Julien 'Hayneuve, S.J., a well-.known spiritual writer around the middle of the seventeenth century, tells us in one of his volumes of meditations that there are three ways of conversing with our Lord: (1) by sanctifying grace, i.e., by being in a state of friendship with Christ; (2) by formal prayer in which we manifest our needs to Him;.and (3) by "this unceasing prayer of which Scripture speaks, that is to say, by a spiritual and divine life that consists a) in doing nothing except by His.spirit, by His orders, fbr His glory, b) in acting not according to the inclinations of nature but confokmably with the inspirations of. grace and according to His maxims, in the same way that He Himself lived on earth and as He desires to live in us, in a word, according to the knowledge He gives us by His lights and interior inspirations" (M~ditations sur la vie de N.S. Jdsus Christ, Vol. I, p. 474). This manner of life we call virtual.prayer. It consists in a complete union of our wills with God, whereby we hearken .to His will expressed not only exteriorly through, the duties of our state of life and the various manifestations of divine providence, but also interiorly tl~rough the movements of grace. It is not an act nor a series of acts but a state, a readi-ness to stop or change what we are d~ing if God wishes it. We are or, at least, we wish to be as responsive to God's will 194 ,I UNCEASING PRAYER expressed through His actual g~aces as a harp to the slightest touch of a master. Father L~once de Grandmaison, s.J., sums it up thus: "Formal prayer differs from virtual in that the latter consists in habitually preferring the will of God ~o our own will . In short, virtual prayer consists in .being docile to. the Holy.Spirit." (We and the Holy Spirit, p. 134) Virtual prayer is, therefore, not a question of intellectual attention, of recollection where the mind is conscious of God, but of habitual, permanent intention directing our wills by God's will, in a word, union of wills. Thus we can be busy,. our minds occupied with intellectual or material work, and yet be praying because we want to do only what God wants us to do and we should cease immediately if we knew He wished us to stop. Father Raoul Plus, S.J'., has practically the same thought when he says: "The state of prayer consists in preserv-ing a pure dntention during the fulfillment of our daily tasks. I cannot have my thoughts occupied with God without inter-ruption. But my will should never be directed towards "any object e~xcept God, ~at any rate as its last end." (How to Pray Always, p. 15) Father Jean Croiset, the spiritual director of St. Margaret Mary, insists on this union of wills: "It is necessary' that while the mind. works, the heart be in. repose and' remain, motionless in its center, which is the will of God, t~rom which it should never separate itself" (The Devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, p. 87). We might here add in the words of. De Grandmaison why this state of attentiveness to God's will is termed prayer. "It is truly prayer because it unites us to God, makes us docile to His inspirations, and attunes us to His will of good pleasure-" (We and the Holy Spirit, pp. 122-23). According to Father Jean-pierre de Caussade, s.J., who lived in .the first half of the eighteenth century, perfection will consist in this virtual pray~er, "The more we advance the rciore is God pleased to take it 'out of our power, to produce many acts . In all the different changes both interior and exterior 195 ]~DWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious say always from the depths of your heart, 'My God, I wish what You ,wish, I refuse nothing from Your fatherly hand, I accept all and submit to all.' In this simple act, continued or rather habitual, consists our whole perfection." (Abandon-ment to Divine Providence, Exeter, 1921, pp. 157-58) Jean- Nicholas Grou, the junior of De Caussade by about fifty years, one of the best known Jesuit writers of his time, tells us that the sole object of the interior soul is to glorify God and to love Him. He develops this latter point thus, "To love Him, not by formal acts or by effusions of sensible devotion, but by being effectually and continually devoted to Him, and by entire resignation of her own will to His" (Manual for Interior Souls, p. 93). Grou says that the interior soul is "effectually and continually devoted" to God. This is devotion that St. Thomas defines as "the will to give oneself readily to things concerning the service of God" (II-II, q. 82, a.1)--not just sensible devotion but the deep, substantial devotion of a com-pliant will. In another work Grou devotes a chapter'to virtual prayer. In this chapter, which he entitles "unceasing prayer," he de-scribes this virtual prayer and then gives some examples: "Among the actions that may be regarded as prayer I would include visits of politeness and good manners; I would even include amusing conversations and necessary relaxations of body and mind, provided they be harmless, and carried no further thatx is allowed by Christian pririciples. None of these occupations is incompatible with continual prayer; with the exception of things that are wrong, inexpedient, or useless there is" nothing that the Holy Spirit cannot make His own, nothing that He cannot contrive to sanctify and bring into the realm of prayer." (The School of Jesus Christ, p. 281) As we have said, virtual prayer consists in a readiness to do God's will expressed not only exteriorly but also interiorly through the movements of grace. It is necessary, then, that we be able to discern these movements in our souls. These 196 July, 1958 UNCEASING PRAYER are normally slight illuminations of the intellect and gentle promptings of the will. But are all interior movements prompt-ing to seeming good the work of God? Unfortunately, no. The evil spirit and our fallen nature suggest thoughts that seemingly prompt to good but, as we know from sad experi. ence, result in something bad or less good. We must be experienced, then, in distinguishing between the spirits, between the movements of grace and of nature, so as to accept the former and reject the latter. (See The Imitation of Christ, Bk. III, Chap. 54, "On the Diverse Motions of Nature and Grace.") Father Jean-Joseph Surin, one of the most brilliant Jesuit writers of the first half of the seventeenth century, states that this attention to the movements of grace and nature consti-tutes the interior life (Spiritual Letters, p. 391). In~ this he was but giving the teaching of his famous tertian instructor, Father Louis Lallemant (Spiritual TeachingI 5th Princ., Chap. l,a. 1, sec. 3). : The rule of thumb for distinguishing :~between the move. ments of the spirits, or of nature and grace, is the difference in the immediate effect they have on the soul. In a soul going from good to better the good spirit or grace produces a peace-ful impression like a drop of water falling on a sponge. The bad spirit or nature, on the other hand, produces a slight agita-tion, a slight disturbance like a drop of water falling on a stone. All seemingly good thoughts and desires, then, that cause such an agitation will be rejected as soon as discerned without being examined. As a result, peace of soul will be the climate ir~ which that person lives who is in a state of attentiveness to God's will, who, in a word, practices continual prayer. I say advisedly peace of soul, not peace of mind. Our imagination or emotions may be disturbed violently or we may have trying problems over which to ponder; but all of these are, so to speak, on the surface of the soul. Deep down under all this is peace. De Caussade in his letters of direction is never weary of. insisting on the necessity of peace. For ~example, he writes, 197 EDWARD HAGEMANN Review for Religious '-'The great principle of the interior life is the peace of the s0ul, and it must be preser~,ed with such care that the moment it is attacked all else must be put aside and every effort made to try and regain this holy peace, just as, in an outbreak of fire everything else is neglected to hasten to extinguish the flames'" (Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 142). In the midst of work and occupations that can take up our complete" attention, we are praying, yes even with the prayer o'f ~petition,' We all have some great personal desires that mean much to us. We' don't have to express them in wbrds. God ~ees them in our' heart. "De Caussade is never tired of repeating St. Augustine's saying that our desires are our prayers (Migne, P:C., 36: 404): our desire to love God, our desire to grow in a certain virtue, our desire for the wel-fare, spiritual or corporal, of someone dearto us, and so forth. A mother ~hosd baby is ill may be busy with chores around the house or have her attention taken up with some pressing problem, but surely we can say that all the time underlying all this activity is her desire for the recov~ery of h~r child. Besides a few big, permanent desires, we all have also many small, transient ones. We can put all these desires, big and small, into the Morning Offering of-the Apostleship of Prayer and then not think of them again during the da.y. They are not dropped Out .of our hearts. Even though we do not forma[ly. repeat these ',petitions, God sees them in our hearts. . Our desires are our,p.rayers. This virtual prayer can be of great comfort to us when we are assailed by temptations. These temptations seize on our imagination and emotion~, and thus influence us physically. While we are thus very conscious of the temptation, we do not, on the other hand, feel the. act of the will or, bdtter still, the state of our will Which is kept turned toward' God. Yet it is in the will not the imagination and' emotions that. our real self is found. De Caussade refers to this again and again, often telling us to go beneath all this agitation in our sense life and 198 July, 1958 UNCEASING PRAYER emotional life and deep down 'rest with our will united with God's or again,, in a somewhat opposite illustration, .to remain above all this agitation like a high mountain whose peak 'is bathed in sunshine but around whose base the" storm clouds lash furiously (Abandonment to Divine Providence, I3. 119). As. this state of will conformed to God's will is our continual prayer, we "are praying, then, even in the midst of the most turbulent temptations. This constant prayer c~in be a source" of consolation when arresting distractions occur during 6urordinary period of for-mal prayer. Who of ~us' has not experienced and does not continue to experience eveky day the wanderings Of the mind that seem at times to make up such a~large pa~t of the time allotted to mental prayer? ~This shbuld not trouble us as long as our will is habituidly directed toward God. As Father de Graridmaison says: "In virtual pray~.r we' call into action the faculty Over which we have the greate.st controli our free Will. Virtual prayer does not "require favorable mental, emotional, or even bodily dispositions . We cannot always think imagine and feel as we would like. But we can always will that God be glorified and that we be obedient to H~m. (We and the Holy Spirit, p. 123) Of course, when these distrac-tions occur, the sooner we recover ourselves and get back to ~formal meditation the better for our mental pr~yer and fgr the growth in motivation that mental prayer gives. But it is consoling to know that in the midst of our distractions our heart has been praying. I am not recommending this practice of virthal player to all indiscriminately. "The Spirit breatheth where he Gill" (Jn. 3:8). 'Some will prefer to make frequent .aipirati~ns during the day or to lift the mind occasionally to God. Well and good. They should follow this attraction. But others will be found who cannot raise the mind to God, particularly when occupied with mental work. Let them, then," not f~el they cannot be praying. The words we havre written will show them 199 EDWARD HAGI~MANN that, as long as their will is united to God's, ready to obey the slightest indication of His holy will, they are in a state of prayer. In one of his letters Father de Caussade gives the following advice: "During the day try to keep yourself united to God, either by frequent aspirations towards Him, or by the simple glance of pure faith; or better still, by a certain calm in the depths of your soul and of your whole being in God, accompanied by a complete detachment from all the exterior objects of this world. God Himself will.show you which of these three ways will best suit you to unite yourself to Him, by the attraction to it, the taste for it, and the facility in the prac-tice of it which He will give you, for this union is in propor-tion to the degree of prayer to which the soul is raised. Each of these states has its special attraction; one must learn to know one's own, and then follow it with simplicity and fidelity, but without anxiety, uneasiness~ or haste; always sweetly and peace-fully as St. Francis of Sales says." (Abandonm.ent to Divine Providence, p. 142). This third method ot: De Caussade is the virtual prayer we h~ave described in this article. OUR CONTRIBUTORS EDWARD HAGEMANN is spiritual director at Alma College, a theologate for Jesuit scholastics, at Los Gatos, California. SISTER MARIE CELESTINE teaches Latin at Notre Dam~ School, 168 West 79th Street, New York 24, New York. HUGH KELLY is instructor of tertians at Rathfarnham-Castle, Rathfarnham~ Dublin, Ireland. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at kVoodstock Col-lege, W~odstock, Maryland. R.F. SMITH is a member ofthe faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 200 Venerable Anne de Xainc!:onge Sisl:er Marie Celest:ine, U.T.S.V. The story of the founding of the first non-cloistered teaching congregation of sisters. T O EXTEND THE REIGN of Jesus Christ--that is my only ambition--my sublime enterprise." These words of Venerable Anne de Xainctonge echoed the yearn.'ing of her heart for a quest that led her through~ twenty years of suffering and trial and ended in the establishm.ent of th~ first non-cloistered congregation for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgifi, on June .16, 1606. The successful completion of that quest was celebrated in 1956, the 350th anniversary year. When the American religious of the Society assisted on June 16 at a solemn pontifical Mass offered by His Excellency, Most Reverend Joseph F. Flannelly, aux. iliary bishbp of New York, in St. Patrick's Cathedral, their joy and gratitude reflected two Of the striking marks of their foundress's life--her joy and gratitude for her vocation. That vocation is best understood by its twofold achievement, the founding of a congregation without enclosure and her con-tribution to education. Her project brought change to religious life as well as to the world of pedagogy. Today it is as natural to see nuns walking along the streets of our large cities or traveling cross-country to spend their holidays in educational conventions as it is to find them taking part in scientific discoveries or teaching Christ in pagan lands. However, such scenes were unknown in the sixteenth century when nun-educators remained in their convents to impart to a small group of fortunate girls the essentials of Christian learning. The revolutionary character of this new idea--a non. cloistered order for women--can be appreciated by recalling the conditions existing in the days of Anne de Xainctonge. 201 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE Review for, Religious Dynamic changes in the field of ideas were keeping Europe in turmoil and coni~usion. The Protestant Revolt had led to the destruction bt~ schools" and colleges. Religious wars, par-ticularly in France, kept Huguenot and Catholic at bitter odds. Science, through Galileo and Kepler, was interesting men in new discoveries. It was a period teeming with new nationalisms, new adventures, and new literary trends. Henry IV, Sir Walter Raleigh, ai~d Montaigne dr~w admiring i~ollowers to their new endeavors. But if the peridd reflected feverish restlessness, it also prodhced: great figures of true serenity, a serenity acquired by th.e grace oi~ God and adherence to truth. In literature, Shakespe,are and Cervantes; in art, Holbein and Tintoretto; in theology, Bella'rmine and Canisitls--these Were but a fe~ who proved the worth ot~ the old "dducational values. Throughout the century the" Church struggled for reform. Her effort~, especially through the Council of Trent, bore fruit." Saints like Teresa of Avila,. Ignatius, and Francis de 'Sales fought for Christ with new ,weapons on new battlefields. It"was the field of education that challenged Anne de Xainctonge. to plan, suffer for, and reach her quest. The disastrous effects of the Reformation on educatiori had caused the Council of Trent to regtore the ancient discipline for ~thd trainii~g of the clergy, to legislate for the instruction of the faithful by preaching and the printed word, to ar'range for Sunday schools and the reopening of parish schools. France, not suffering the same persecutibn as England and Germany, wa.~ active in applying the i:egulations. ~' ~ If these recommendations, were followed, a new vitality would appear in the faithi~ul. In what way could Anne help? How could she extend the reign of Christ? ¯ Her desire.tosave souls became an overwhelming ambition. Developed.by prayer and nurtured by sacrifice, it was a decisive influence in her life --molding the quality of her spiritual growth and pointing .to its outward expression. 202 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE Actually, it was the. work of St; Ignatius, the most bril-liant of the educational leadersl .which most attracted the young girl. It was the. Jesuit .ideal in training youth which gave Anne the inspiration for her new Society. It was her Jesuit dir.ectors, Father de, Villars and Father Gentil, who prepared and tested her soul for' the difficulties ahead. When at last in. 1606 she formed her congregation,¯ it was the Ratio StuJiorum which she made the basis of her educational system, adapting and modifying it to the needs of gi~:ls, while following its broad lines of method and administration. The work of the Jesuits appealed strongly to Anne be-cause she watched their efforts at close range. 'Anne de Xainc-tonge was born in Dijon, France, November 21,'1567, daughter of Jean de Xainctonge, councilor of Parliament, and Lady Marguerite Colard. The child showed such a keen intellect that her father arranged an educational program for her, in-cluding subjects usually studied by boys. He himself became one of her tutors, choosing religion for his course, just as' his neighbor, ' President ~Fremyot, did for his children, among them the future St. Jane Frances de Chantal. While still young, Anne sl~owed herself a born teacher; for, after her lessons with her father, she would go to the servants and teacl~ them what she had just learned. She was 13eg~nmng to extend Christ's reign. A strong desire to do God's will ~aught her enthusias'm, so that even in an illness declared hopeless, but from which she recovered miraculodsly, she preferred God's will to her cure. 'A hunger for. Holy Com-munion and confirmation made her lea; nothing undone until she had succeeded in receiving both sacraments earlier than usual. This love for God and apostolic yearning made the young girl's decisions firm. When presented to society, ~he followed her mother's desires by dressing richly and taking an active part in the social life of the nobility of Dijon. However, she 2O3 SISTER ~ARIE CELESTINE Review for Religious refused to 'consider a proposal of marriage. Just what her vocation was Anne did not know. Neither marriage nor the cloistered life drew her, but a deep yearning to serve God and save souls possessed her. In the meantime, her confessor al-lowed her to teach catechism. However, he demanded that she put aside her fashionable dress while teaching in the churches or instructing the sick in hospitals. Anne felt that the work of the Jesuits was really extending the reign of Christ in the hearts of boys. Their new college, opened in Dijon in 1582, was adjoining her father's estate. Watching from her window or the garden, ,she was impressed by the new methods, ~he good order of the thousand pupils, and the gay recreations supervised by the masters on the playground behind the school. The more she appreciated their progress, the more she contrasted it with the feeble efforts made in the two or three schools for girls in Dijon, where reading, writing, and needlework formed the entire curriculum. If only a work similar to that 0f the Jesuits could be undertaken for girls! Then the light came. It could be undertaken--and she could begin it! At last, God's will seemed clear. She told her director, Father Gentil, that poor girls had been neglected, since "among us, no one has the courage to use her natural talents to glorify God as you are glorifying Him by yours." ~ Anne realized that for the work she envisioned her religious could not be cloistered. They would need to go out, to churches, schools, hospitals--to reach the rich and the poor --as many children as possible. But--an uncloistered order of women? The quest seemed fantastic. The mere thought of such a congregation would shock sixteenth-century France. Again, teaching was a task despised by people of high society; it was a work relegated to widows or ladies in financial distress, who usually knew little more than their pupils. The girls of poor families attended school until they were nine, while the wealthy had to educate their daughters at home or, if fortunate, send them to a cloistered convent as boarders. 204 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE To. Anne, the thought of teaching was not revolting. It was an apostolate! It was not only a challenge, but an inspira-tion, a means of extending the kingdom. But to form a society, she would need companions. Would any of her friends stoop to the humiliating task of instructing children? Anne began to prepare herself for her vocation by serious study, especially of religion. Soon her parents withdrew their promises of help for the work when they learned that God's will was leading Anne to establish it, not in Dijon, but in Dole, then enemy territory under Spanish rule. Her arrival in Dole, November 29, 1596, was welcomed as an answer to prayer by a group of. young ladies with a similar ambition. However, Dole was to exact ten years of suffering and humiliation before Anne could reach her goal. The history of those years shows h~r in the role of public benefactor--a lone figure digging the groundwork of her society. Most of those who had prayed for a leader lost courage in the face of hardships caused by social custom and family prejudice. For Anne herself, difficulties reached the height of persecu-tion as her father inaugurated violent methods of attack to force his daughter's return. Obliged to submit the plan of her congregation to two different courts of prominent and prejudiced theologians, she convinced them that her project for a non-cloistered community was sound, practical, and of divine inspiration. The battle over non-enclosure was won! Ecclesiastical and municipal authorization paved the way for the new foundation; and on June 16, 1606, there came to life. a non-cloistered congregation for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula. The work grew rapidly in France, Germany, and Switzerland. A few years after Mother Anne's foundation, St. Francis de Sales had to face the same problem of non-enclosure. When, with St. Jane Frances de Chantali he began the Visitation order in. 1610, it was as a non-cloistered community dedicated to the 2O5 SISTER ~IARIE CELESTINE Review :for Religious sick and poor. However, in 1615 Cardinal de Marquemont of Lyons, who had invited the Visitandines to establish a house in his diocese, urged St. Francis dd Sales to change the status of his congregation to one of strict enclosure. The cardinal feared that the fervor of the. religious would be weakened and that dangers would be encountered by their contact with the world. After resisting at first, the bishop of Geneva in humility finally yielded to the .cardinal's request, seeing in it a sign of God's will in his superiors and a means of spreading the work in this modified form to m, any parts of France. The saint admired Mother Anne's work and in 1608 had gone to Dole to see the schools of the Ursules. In 1621 he wrote to Mother Anne, asking her to establish a house in Thonon, Savoy. In requesting it he wrote: I have always admired, honored, and esteemed the works oi: very great charity which your Society practices, whose growth I have always very affectionately desired, especially in this province of Savoy. Relying on the hope 'which the Fathers of the.Society of Jesus have given me for establishing a house here, I have obtained permission for it from her 'Most Serene Highness. But if I have the pleasure of seeing a branch of the holy tree of Sainte Ursule in this diocese, I shall~ try to make known, by all sorts of proofs, the affection I have for it. That is why I beg you very humbly, my very dear Sister, to contribute to this project all you can, in God, not doubting that it is for the greatest glo~-y of God, the advancement and strengthening of many souls in piety, and finally, a very great consolation for those who come first to take part in this good work . Thus, humbly acceding to the wishes of others, St. Francis de Sales gave up his plan of non-enclosure. Mother Anne in an indomitable spirit of perse.verance worked and suffered for twenty years until she overcame all obstacles to non-enclosure. Her work. stood the test of time. The French Revolution could not annihilate it, nor the" laws of 1901 expelling religious from France. This expulsion brought forth new branches in Italy, .Belgium, and the United States. .The American work began in 1901, ~when Right ~Reverend Monsignor.Joseph H. McMahon invited the sisters to teach in Our Lady of Lourdes Parochial School in New York. Then an .academy was opened 206 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAINCTONGE " in 1912, now the Notre Dame School on West 79th Street; the Academy of St. Ursula, Kingston, New York, was begun in 1925. Two parochial schools, St. Joseph's, Kingston, and St. Augustine's, Providence, are conducted by the religious, who also have charge of the Latin Department in Cathedral High School, New York City. Mother Anne's second achievement was her contribution to education. Basing her system on the'Ratio Studiorum ¯ of-the Jesuits, she insisted on the. training of her teachers, a gentle fiimness in discipline, and an arrangement of classes suited to th~ age and ability of, th~ pupils. Her philosophy of education followed logically from her grasp of the-child's nature, a being composed of body and soul, ~stined for the City of God. The goal must be kept in mind, but the nature of the child must not be forgotten. To make the Incarnation real in the lives of the children was her aim. For her, the very end of education was to imitate Jesus Christ, to form Him in the young. "In working with these little souls, we shall do something very great if we keep our interior glance fixed on Jesus Christ." If her am-bition was to form Christ in the students, it was first-to-train, each of her daughters to be another Christ--that the re.ality of the Incarnation, the living of the Christ-life might radiate to o~thers. Her spiritual counsels speak again and again of the "reign of Christ." "I desire with all my heart, to make Jesus Christ reign and live within me." This aim was reflected in her methodsi which showed 'a humanistic approach. Women were losing their souls for lack of instruction; therefore, moral training was of prime im-p? rtance, while the core-curriculum subject wasreligion. One of the points Mother. Anne stressed .was the exacting of work~ according to the child's ,capacity. Individua! recitations, pupil activity, and self-expression to develop the reason were insisted upon.in all but the lowest classes. This practice, proper .to the new institute in 1606, was considered "one of the great pe~da, 207 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE Review for Religious gogical discoveries of the nineteenth century." Plays and pageants were presented to develop oral expression. In the teacher training program, similar attention is giver~ to the individual. The teacher must try to win each soul: by her gay and open manner, to inspire confidence; by a gentle firmness, to correct and exhort; by a personal spirit of sacrifice and abnegation, to serve others. To serve the whole world and particularly those of our sex, to instruct, console, warn, to give good example everywhere, and to pray always for the conversion or perfection of souls--that is the profession of the Ursules, but on condition that it is carried on without affecta-tion, complacency, or vanity . . . simply, humbly, cordially . Such exterior works sprang from a deep Christ-centered spirituality. Every fiber of Anne's being spent itself to extend Christ's reign. Again and again she exhorts her daughters "to spend themselves for the glory of God and to make Jesus Christ reign." Christ living in the Blessed Sacrament was the center of her life. If her desire as a child was to receive the Blessed Sacrament before the usual age; if, as a religious, she planned her pupils' day to end with a short visit to the Blessed Sacrament; and if her guardian angel walked behind her on Communion days instead of preceding her, it was because her devotion to our Lord in the tabernacle was a solid and practical one. It was so deeply practical that, although in dire need in Dole, she had refused our Lord's offer to live on the Blessed Sacrament alone, lest she cease to be a model of imitation for her daughters. Her motto, "Mihi vivere Christus est--et mori lucrum," was a practical rule of action by which she could' give in gratitude for Holy Communion "heart for heart, life for life, soul for soul." Tkus, by building the child's character on conscidnce and love of God, she hoped, to build it high above the petty disputes and local antagonisms. Human interests must transcend the national. In 1956 the Society opened its first foreign mission in Luena, the Belgian Congo, and boasts three nationalitids, including American, among the four pioneers. Mother Anne 208 July, 1958 VENERABLE ANNE DE XAI~CTON(~E had braved the derision of a class:conscious society to devote herself to the poor and ignorant. Her principle of adaptation to new needs has given her Society a framework within which to develop varied educational works. During Cana Conferences, when parents come to the convent for a day of spiritual refreshment, Mother'Anne's daughters care for their children just as she herself 350 years ago cared for the babies in the vestibule of the church to allow their mothers to assist at Mass in .peace. As she urged her daughters to discuss the problems of the children's education with the parents, so the Society's P.T.A.'s hope to serve the same worthy purpose of informing them of their childen's progress in knowledge and virtue. Besides academies and free schools, orphanages are conducted. In Italy a special program is set up to help servant girls, called "Zites," a work dedicated to St. Zita, patroness of .domestic servants. It is a beautiful continuation of Mother Anne's attention to the servants, first as a child in her own home, and later, on a much larger scale. In the United Stat.es, in addition to academies and sch6ols, catechetical work is also done. In Phoenicia, New York, a religious vacation school is open in the summer to the children of the neighboring ~illages. To this restful spot in the Cat-skills comes a group of children from Casita Maria in New York each .year for a few w~eks of vacation. Thus a sixteenth century educator may be called modern because her principles have a universal appeal' and allow for adaptation. To see the child with his charm and weakness looking up to God--to see God in His infinite fatherly love bending down to the child--is .to see a picture of the educa-tional process in Mother Anne's mind. To help the child reach up with hands and head and heart--to plead .with the Father" to bend lower to lift up the child--that is a picture of the teacher's role in Mother Anne's plan. To carry out ~his plan, 'this quest of saving souls, the Venerable Anne de Xainctorlge established a non-cloistered 209 SISTER MARIE CELESTINE teaching order for the education of girls, the Society of St. Ursula of the Blessed Virgin. She made that Society able and re.ady to meet new needs and new conditions. Charted by .unchanging principles, it can face the challenge of e~ch century on. the path of its unending quest. Last year, its 350th anni-versary, each haember of the Society, whether in Europe, the United States, or Africa, dedicated herself anew to that quest in the words of her venerable foundress, "To extend the reign of Jesus Christ--that is my only ambition--my sublime enterprise." For Your la[ormation (Continued from page 193) is no age limit beyond that of common sense. There are no special financial or educational qualifications. In the apostolate of the Daughters of the Paraclete, there is a place and. a work for all--nurses, teachers, o~ce workers, domestic workers, and so forth. Requests for further information may 'be sent either to: Most Reverend Albert L. Fletcher, D.D., 305 West Second Street, Little Rock, Arkansas; or to: Miss L. A. Manes, Para-. clete House, 802 Center Street, Little Rock, Arkansas. The Catholic Counselor Our attention has recently been called to The °Catholic Counselor, a magazine that has just finished its second year of publication. The purpose of this periodical, ~is describdd on its masthead, is: "To act as an organ of communication for Catholics in the field of guidance. Spdcifically, the staff plans through The Catholic Counselor (1) to develop knowledge and interest in Student' Pdrsonnel Worl~ in Catholic Institutions; (2) to serve as a forum of expression on the mutual problems of Catholics in counseling; (3) to foster the. professional growth of Catholic guidance workers by membership in the A.P.G.A. (Continued on page 222) 210 Prot:icien!:sm Who Do No!: Progress I-lUgh Kelly, S.J. FATHER, I have not been making any advance in my spiritual life for some time past. In fact,' I seem to be going back. I seem to have lost much of that fervor I had in my early days in religious life. I have no longer the sense of God's presence I had formerly, nor the desire to sub; due self and to make progress in prayer and in the interior life. I have made efforts to get back again to my former state of fervor but with pool results. I am much discouraged and do not know what to do." There are few priests with any experience as retreat masters or confessors of religiofis who have not heard such a complaint often. These are complaints which a priest must take seriously as they come from a real anxiety and are a strong appeal for help. What is the truth of that diagnosis? Has progress really stopped? Has there been deterioration? Has the desire of' advance grown slack? It may well be that these questions can be answered in the affirmative and that there l~as been delib-erate infidelity and a slacking in the duties and practices which are the condition of fervor. In that case the problem is easily solved; the religious ha~ but to resume his forme~: fide.lity. At least this is the necessary preliminary step. Whether it is the only step and can remedy the situation will depend on other questions. But let us suppose there has not been conscious, deliberate neglect; and the religious can be fairly certain of this. ~ What, then, is the cause of the state in which he finds himself and which he diagnosed so accurately? There has been a great change. The soul is at a loss, is much discouraged, a~d is sorely in need of help. How is a priest to deal with such a case? 211 HUGH KELLY Review for Relig.ious As a help to a solution let us put the case in professional language!. We can say that the religious in question has passed through the stage of beginners and is well within the ranks of the proficients. The division of souls, seriously living the spiritual life, into beginners, proficients, and perfect is strongly traditional and is natural and easy to" understand. It is based on the different measure of charity which the soul possesses. The first class 'consists of those who possess charity and whose chief concern is to secure it firmly against that which would destroy it, mortal sin. In the next class, the proficients, are those who have consolidated charity in their souls and whose concern is to develop it and integrate it by the addition of the other virtues which it needs for its full growth and flowering. The perfecf are those in whom charity has got its appropriate extension and depth and whose concern is to live a life in which all xhe activity is dominated and controlled by charity. There is scarcely any need to note that within each of these main divisions there ale many minor steps or stages. The division has this advantage that it denotes the two main ideas--that perfection is a movement, a progress with definite stages, and that it is measured by charity. To return now m the definite case we are considering-- we can say that the. religious in question has passed from the stage of beginners to that of proficients. We may say that the early years of religious life are the stage of beginners, that period when the young religious learned to live well the new way of life on which he had entered. The period would be considered to last up to the final profession or to some years: beyond it. At this stage the religious has abundant help and guidance. from his spiritual superiors. Assuming that he was reasonably faithful and generous and thus corresponded substantially with the training, we can say that at the end of this period we have one who assuredly is not yet perfect, but who is emphatically a good religious; one who is observant and edifying, diligent and obedient; one who has learned the place of prayer in life; 212 I July, 1958 PROFICIENTS~WHo DO NoT'PROGRESS who has reached a considerable degree of union with God; one who has peace of soul and delicacy of conscience; in a word, one who is happy and successful in his vocation. Clearly, a definite stage has been passed through with credit. A Spiritual Crisis But now there comes a change; there comes a halt to the advance; or at least the sense of progress is no longer felt. The motive power which carried the soul forward to this stage of the spiritual life seems suddenly to fail, and the whole growth and activity of the soul seem to come to a standstill. What is to be done to counteract the paralysis and to set things moving again? "Only too many religious lose courage, remain passive, unable to extricate themselves from the morass in which they are held. Perhaps they ask for advice and help and get none. There was never a moment in their religious life when they needed help so sorely; if the help does not come, the whole of their future life will be much the poorer. Only too many religious find themselves in this condition. Hence, we have only too ,often the disturbing phenomenon of a spiritual life which began well, which showed progress for the early years and then petere~t out into mediocrity and dis-illusionment. The early hopes have not been fulfilled; the dreams and right spiritual ambitions have faded away in early middle age. A career that promised much for God has been some way blighted. The religious we have envisaged at the opening of this paper has reached such a crisis in the spiritual life. He needs guidance and encouragement. A'director or retreat master who takes his work. seriously cannot shirk what is his duty; he cannot refuse to stretch out a helping hand, to ~ndicate ¯ some means, to give some helpful direction. What, then, is a director to do in the face of this situation --that of the religious who has quickly and successfully trav-ersed the first stage and then stops and comes to a standstill; whose initiative and motive power seem to fail, to be stricken 213 Review for Religious with a mysterious paralysis? The first thing the director must grasp and which he must make clear to the religious is that the soul has now entered into a new stage in which the main con-ditions are quite different from those of the previous stage. The conditions which determine the life of the proficient are very different from those that the beginner had to deal with. What will ohelp t.he one may harm the other. "When I was a ~hild I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought .as a child" (2 ~or. 13:11). Proficients are no longer children; but they do not realize that they have changed, and they con-tinue to speak and think as children; they have not yet put away the things of.a child. The first, perhaps, of the new conditions to be reckoned with is that there has been a weakening of the desire of' per-fection-- which is the motive power of spiritual advance-- Owing to the "fact that it has been enfeebled by certain faults or maladies which belong particularly to this stage. The faults are "interior, 'often. scarcely perceptible and henci~ not com-batted; but they exercise a powerful adverse influence on the condition of the soul.--These faults and adverse tendencies may bd reduced to four. 1. The. soul is secretly pleased with the progress it has made and unwittingly is inclined to relax in its desires and to rest on its oars. And it is a fact that much Progress has been made which the soul cannot help seeing. A worldly life has changed its directioni many external faults have been elim-inated or Controlled; many ,~irtues and good practices have been acquired; the soul has reached a considerable degree of familiarity with God and enjoys the peace and satisfaction which comes from being rightly orientated toward its true end~ and supreme good. These feelings and considerations which are well founded may come to leave a certain feeling of satis-faction or even of complacency, a half:accepted idea that the progress, which is undeniable, is due in a good measure to 214 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS--WHo DO NOT PROGRESS one's own efforts. In that way vanity may be nourished subtly, and any such feeling is a hindrance, to a'.true advance in "charity. 2." Moreover, that complacency may be further fed by the idea that the chief obstacles to a fervent rel!gious life have been alreddy overcome. It is a fact that no s~rious faults' are now visible, that no new conquests are to be called for. The religious has been well trained, no doubt at the cost bf many sacrifices, to fit smoothly into his r~ligious life and is clearly an edifying, observant, diligent member "of his community. What more can-be reasonably expected? He does not 'see 'in what direction he is to direct his effort~. But therd :precisely is one of the new condition~ he has not taken account of--that the faults are hidden, that khe ol3jectives are not ~)isible, that ~he soul simply doe~ not see its way. . 3. It is 'normal, too, that'sby thi~ time'wo~k and activity play a large, part in the life of ~he're}igious ~ve are considering; b)~ now h~ will' h~a~,e ~ound the a~prop~:iate exe~:cise of .his gift~, B~) that ~ery fact he is e.xpose~d to a fault, which the old spiritual writers called effusio ac/ exteriora~an e~cessive pr.e-occupation with external things. This religious has come to see how he can serve God effectively; he do~s his work well, "is deeply .interested in it. That activity, as an essenti~il part of his vocation, was 'meant inGod's design to b~ a potent ~ans of sanctification, to be a school of certain virtues which could not be learned easily 'in :another school. If the work is not carried, on in this spirit, it will affect "the 'spiritual condi: tion of the.soul. Joy in successl in ~ongenial adtivity, in the praise and recognition which" follow a job.w~ll done, " these tend to'produce a feeling of ~exaggerated self-satisfaction~, a certairf conceit, a sense of one's own value,, a self-assurance, an exigency in one's demands and in time will produce an atmosphere of soul in which purity of heart, detachment, meekness, which arethe interior equipment of the apostle, will not flourish. Here, then, is another of these new conditions which must" be taken account of if there is to be true spiritual'progress. 215 HUGH KELLY Review for Religious ~4. 'If the faults mentioned are really at work and having their effect, then we must conclude that the prayer is not what it should be for the simple reason that if the prayer were right it would prevail over the adverse in.fluences. A true prayer would give light to keep the goal in view steadily; it would unmask hidden faults; it would give strength to overcome them and to make the effort necessary to advance. Hence, we may say confidently that the most important of the new conditions which have not been recognized is that the prayer has not kept pace with the other advances, that it is not the prayer appropriate to the present spiritual state. The religious may have clung to the type of prayer he was taught at the beginning of his religious career and which he may well have outgrown. A prayer that is predominantly active, meditative, that deals largely in reasoning, comparisons, formal definite resolutions, is assuredly a most useful prayer for beginners but not necessarily for proficients. It may well be that the prayer has b~come formal, superficial, that it is not sufficiently interior and does not give that light and unction that the sohl needs in its :present state. Other reasons, operative in individual cases, .could be ,mentioned; but those given are generally found and are suffi-cient .to account for the phenomenon we are considering-- that is, a religious who began in the best dispositions, who went through the first stage with generosity and courage, who had reached a cr.editable stage of union with God, and who then seemed to slow up and make little further progress. And then--perhaps in the course of a retreat such a religious comes to realize his state---he will experience a deep feeling of dis-couragement, a feeling of. paralysis of one who knows that there is something seriously amiss but who cannot say what it is exactly and hence cannot do much about it. If he does not get the guidance and help he needs now, he is likely to lower his spiritual aims and settle into an abiding mood of frustration and disillusionment. 216 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS --- WH0 Do NOT PROGRESS The Remedy So far we have attempted a diagnosis of a malady and a mood common to souls." who have reached the degree of proficients. They are the proficients who have ceased to pro. gress. We may now attempt something in the way of remedy or prescription. The first step of the director should be to point out to the religious that he must realize that he is in a new stage, that the whole nature of the struggle has changed, that he had been clinging to .the things of a child now that he has ceased to be a child. The methods of the previous stage have done their work, all that they were meant to do; but they will not serve in the new stage. Now there is question of new obstacles, new means, new kinds of virtues to be cultivated. The frustra-tion experienced is due to the fact that the conditions of one stage have been retained "for a stage for which they are not suitable. ~ Speaking generally, the spiritual life must now become more interior. The struggle has now been transferred to a deeper region within the soul. The whole spiritual lit:e must grow in intdriority. And first of all the soul must come to a deeper knowledge of the implications of the call of Christ, to a truer realization of the.depth of renunciation contained in His invi-tations. "If any man will come after me, let him deny him-self" (Matt. 16:24). Had the soul come to know the full force of the word deny, that it is the word that is used by the gospel to indicate the action of St. Peter in the Passion--that it implies an entire repudiation and rejection! When Our Lord spoke the words, "Unless the grain of wheat falling into " the earth die, itself remaineth alone" (Jn. 12:24), He spoke of His own Passion and indicated the measure of His sacrifice; but He also gave some idea of what He expected from those whom He called to follow Him. No doubt something of that renouncement was already understood by th~ religious, but how imperfectly. I2Iis words contain depths of renunciation 217 -HUGH KELLY Review for Religious which are revealed only slowly and as a result of much purifi-cation of soul. The. invitation., "Come follow Me," contains many~ degrees of imitation and proximity. Purity.-- Dod.lity The chief means by which the soul is to reach to this interi.ority are, according to L. Lallement, greater purity of heart and greater docility to the .Holy Spirit. Greater purity of heart presupposes a-greater knowledge owfa sth ceh ifeafulyl tcsg oncf etrhnee dh'e waritt.h I nac tthioen psr, eovri oaut sle, asstta gwei tthh e't h,roeu~glihgtiso ours feelings that might be .considered as .venial sins, and the examina-tion of conscience was instituted with a view to confess them as such. But now the examination must probe more deeply. There is a whole stratum of tendencies, instinctive movements, automatic reactions, which indicate the p.resence of that self which is the center of resistance to God's advances. Self-examination must now penetrate to this hitherto unknown region~in which'will be fo~und ~i self that is wayward, dissipated, full of the ¯seeds of sin and ~evolt and which¯ must be controlled before there can be any true domination of charity. Such a purification must be systematic and must cover the heart, the imagination, and the judgment. The heart obviously needs such a fine purification seeing that it is the source of countless movements and affections which cannot be left uncontrolled, because they ¯exercise a strong in-fluence on the.decisions of .the will. These movements are the obscure stirrings of inordinate self-love in some of its manifold manifestations--little indulgences, almost-instinctive preferences,, resentment.s, impatiences, little acts of selfishness of one kind or another. "Fie on't; tis an unweeded garden." It cannot be ¯left to the weeds; it must be cleared and cleansed if it is to be brought under the sweet rule of charity. The imagination no less than the heart needs its own systematic purification. This is the faculty which St. Thomas called 218 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS---WHo DO NOT PROGRESS domlna falsitatis, the mistress of the false.;, and it can very seriously trouble the soul by its vain and foolish images and fancies. Such a source of dissipation and distraction is a chal-lenge to the spirit of prayer or to peace of mind. The purification of the judgment is still more necessary because its acts are more ddliberative. We find ourselves almost instinctively passing judgment, on people, on actions~ ¯ on motives, judgments which are often wrong, ungenerous, suspicious. If such a tendency is left unchecked, it will make fraternal charity a very difficult thing. Such a systematic effort of purification, deeper and more searching than was called for in-the beginning of religious life, is necessary at this stage. The kind of examination which sought out .sins or exterior faults will be ineffectual now. Such an interior purification our Lord aims at in the preaching of the Beatitudes; these are the virtues which .give the disposition of heart necessary for a generous acceptance 9f His new religion. There is another region of the spi.ritual .life which calls for purification, one which is more hidden, more unexpected. even than any we have yet considered. The very spiritual life, of beginners is often full of unconscious self-seeking. In their spiritual practices they seek their own satisfaction; they look for consolation and sensible devotion in their prayers; they ar~ attached to certain, methods or forms of prayer. And their activity in spiritual things ,can produce such faults as vanity, jealousy, arid a sense of superiority over others. St, John of the Cross has devoted a long section of the Ascent of Mount Carmel to a close analysis of such faults: The control of these is the fruit of different stages of the dark. night, some of them being eliminated by the effort of the individual aided, of course, by grace, others .being so deep-seated, so well hidden that they yield only. to the action of infused prayer in the passive night of the sense. Of the second necessary condition mentioned by Lallement, docility to the Holy Spirit, it is not necessary to speak at any 219 KELLY' Review for Religious great length. "According to the instruction of our Lord, the Holy Spirit is by attribution the master of .the interior life. Describing His function our Lord said, "He will teach you all things and bring all things to your mind whatsoever I shall have said to you" (Jn. 14:26). The Paraclete was thus to teach in-teriorly what our Lord had taught by word of mouth to the apostles, opening their hearts sweetly to the fuller depths and force of His teaching. All movement in the spiritual life will be His concern, but He will be particularly active when the spiritual life is to grow more deep and interior. The finer purification already spoken of will be achieved only by His special presence. But the work of the Holy Spirit is not merely or chiefly the negative one of purification; it is still more a positive formative activity--to supply the light needed to get a deeper grasp of the spiritual life and the strength to live up to that light. The general results of this assistance of the Paraclete can be indicated here only in a summary way; they may be said to consist in a new enlightenment in three points. (I) The Holy Spirit will give a deeper understanding of the theological virtue of faith--a better realization that it is faith alone which gives us "the true and loving God" and is the true and unfail-ing approach to Him in every stage of the spiritual life on earth. (2) Again the Paraclete. will lead the soul to a kind of prayer which the soul has need of at this stage of its ad-vance. It is a prayer of great simplicity which will be nour-ished interiorly chiefly on the words of the gospel and the liturgy, the mysteries of Christianity, a prayer which opens up the teaching of Christ in such a way that it yields its sweetness and unction more abundantly. St. Ignatiu~ has described this prayer as that which enables the soul sentire et gustare res interne, . to get the true inner savor, of spiritual things. (3) But the action of the Holy Spirit will have as its chief aim to reveal Christ more fully; to make the soul realize better His role in the spiritual life. "I am the way, the truth, and the life. No man cometh to the Father but by Me.': (Jn. 14:6) 220 July, 1958 PROFICIENTS---WHo DO NOT PROGRESS A real, practical acceptance of this cardinal truth is the c-o-fi-dition and measure of advance at this stage. And it is to" be kept in mind that this is the function attributed to the Paraclete that our Lord stressed. "But when the Paraclete cometh---He Shall give testimony of Me" (Jn. 15:26) and again "He shall glorify Me because He shall receive of Mine and shall show it to you" (Jn. 16:14). The Holy Spirit is sent, then, to give testimony to Christ, to His transcendant role in the gpiritual life as the unique medium by which the soul can attain its supreme good and last end; and this is to glorify Christ by showing His true greatness. The spiritual perfection of the soul is constituted by union with Christ in charity. The stages toward this goal are marked by a fuller realization of the part which Christ must play in this advance; and, consequently, a more perfect exercise of faith and charity. The end of the process is expressed by St. Paul, "And I live, now not I; but Christ liveth in me" (Gal. 11:20). It ¯ was expressed still better by our Lord Himself as He was enter-ing on His Passion, "That they all may be one as Thou Fatl~er in Me and I in Thee; that they also may be one in Us" (Jn. 17:21). The stage of the spiritual life we have been considering, that of proficients, is simply the study of the fuller action of Christ and His Spirit at a specially critical moment. This divine action is, of course, essential in every step, even at the first; but it is deeper, stronger, more interior in the later 'and higher stages. The soul we have been considering depended on the grace and example of Christ even for its first steps. But advance beyond this initial stage calls for a more powerful aid. To qualify for that newer assistance the soul had to dispose itself by a deeper and finer asceticism. Without that special prepara-tion it could not have caught the breath of the Spirit which Christ was to send, the new impulse without which it would have languished ineffectively, if not a wreck, at least a failure. 221 HUGH KELLY From the foregoing pages it is hoped that it will appear that the division of the spiritual life into beginners, proficients, and perfect is not merely a theoretical matter, the concern of professors and historians. They are the actual stages through which, normally, all souls pass who try to realize the great design for which God has created them and for which He has given them His Son to be for them the way, the truth, and the life. It should then be clear also that the priest who is director or retreat master should have a workable knowledge of these di-visions. He is certain to come across souls who are going that way, who need his guidance and help at moments when such assistance may make just all the difference in the world. For Your Informal:ion (Continued from page 210) [American Personnel and Guidance Association- and (4) to encourage cooperation among Catholic Guidance Councils on local and regional levels." The subscription price is $1.00 per year--for three issues, autumn, winter, an~d .spring. Subscriptions should be sent to: The Catholic Counselor, 650 Grand Concourse, Bronx 51, New Yo~'k. Good Spiritual Reading? A superioress would like to obtain"a helpful list of worth-while spiritual reading books for a community." She refers to currently published books, not to the old masters. We do our best to supply such lists through our Book Review De-partment. It has occurred to us, however, that the suggestions we make in that department might be supplemented in a very practical way if our readers would send in brief communications about books they or their communities have found helpful. If you wish to recommend a book that you or your com-munity found helpful, please address your letter, to: The Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. And please type the letter, preferably triple-spaced, at least double-spaced. 222 The eneral .Chapt:er .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. QUESTIONS AND CASES are frequently received on the general chapter. A coml~lete article on this matter would. be of prohibitive length. It would also be excessively de-tailed and technical. We believe that ~he practical purpose of such an article will be better attained by presenting the matter under the form of questions and cases. The following ques-tions are the first part of a series. I. Delegates 1. According to our constitutions, a former brother general is a mem-ber of the general chapter in virtue of this office that he had held. A former brother general is a member of our house, but he is not the local superior. The hl)use elected him as delegate to the general chapter. Does he have two votes in the general chapter? No. Anyone may be elected in a chapter who is not excluded from the office in question by canon law or the par-ticular constitutions. Canon law does not exclude the election of anyone as delegate because he otherwise has the right of membership in the general Chapter in virt'fid~"of hi~ office or from some other title, nor do the constitutions of lay institutes enact any such ~general exclusion. These constitutions also do not ordinarily .forbid the election of a former superior general as a delegate. Unless there is such an exclusion in the present constitutions, the election is valid. However, this. brother will have only one vote in the general chapter. It is certain from canon 164 that no one may cast many votes by reason of many titles to vote, e. g., a brother may not c,ast two votes in the general chapter because he is a former brother general and an elected delegate from a province or house or because he is a general councilor and also a local superior. It is not 'certain, even. though the wording of the. canon favors the contrary opinion, tl~at one may not cast many votes when the one title gives the right to many votes, e. g., if the constitutions give 223 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious the superior general or provincial two votes. The constitutions of lay institutes *do not make such a grant. A religious may cast his own vote and another as proxy for another elector when the constitutions or customs permit voting by proxy, which is excluded with practical universality in the constitu-tions of lay institutes (c. 163). 2. Doesn't canon law deprive of active voice one who had been a Catholic, joined a non-Catholic sect, returned to the faith, and had been admitted to the noviceship of a religious institute with a dispensation from the Holy See from the impediment, to entrance? The question is based on canon 167, § 1, 4°, which reads: "The following are excluded from voting: Those who joined or publicly adhered to'a heretidal or schismatical sect." However, it is a safely probably opinion that the dispensation to enter the noviceship removes also the disability of canon 167, § 1, 4"°. Goyeneche, Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 164-65; Schaefer, De R~- ligiosis, n. 493; J.one, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 171. 3. When we elect a delegate, may we instruct him whom he is to vote for and what proposals he is to vote for in the general chapter? You may not do this unless it is permitted b)) the particular law of your institute. The very few institutes that do permit this also contain a provision of the following tenor: "Ttie com-munity represented by a delegate may give him instructions regarding the election and other matters to be discussed either at the provincial or general chapter, but the delegate remains free as to the exercise of his vote for the interests of the con-gregation." 4. Is a delegate to a general chapter obliged to' accept proposals from other members of the institute? When the constitutions give prov.inces, houses, or individuals the right to make proposals, a superior or delegatd must accept the. proposal and submit it to the general chapter; but he is not obliged to promote or vote for the proposal in the chapter. If the right '.is not granted, individuals may suggest propogals 224 July , 19fi8 THE GENERAL CHAPTER to members of the chapter; but there is no obligation to accept merely suggested proposals. Anyone who makes a proposal should study carefully and even consult as to whether the pro-posal is well i:0unded and prudent. Careless, groundless, and extraneous proposals can waste a great deal of time in the chapter. II. Preliminaries 5. Our constitutions speak of the "election" ot~ local superiors and other officials by the superior general and his council. Is this an accurate expression? An election to an office in a religious institute or society of common life is the designation of a person made in a chapter. The designation to an office made by a superior alone or with the consultive or deliberative vote of a council is not an election but an appointment. The latter is frequently called an election in the constitutions of lay institutes. It is not such and is not governed by the norms on elections. 6. How long should a general chapter last in a lay congregation? Constitutions appr6ved by the Holy See state that the general chapter is not to be prolonged beyond a reasonable length of time but that no precise limits can be fixed for its duration. It is obvious that the duration will vary according to the number and importance of the matters proposed to the chapter of affairs;and it is evident also that the chapter should not be so rushed and abbreviated that it fails to perform its duties properly, especially as regards the chapter of affairs. The constant brevity of some chapters creates a suspicion that insuf-fi~ ent attention is given to the chapter of affairs. Bastien states thh~ the chapters of lay congregations, outside of particular arid~ exceptional circumstances, will last five days. (Directoire Canonique, n. ~291) This would give three full days t~or the chapter of affairs. Apt 'and careful preparation, the mimeo-graphing and previous distribution of reports, and capable direc-tion by the president will expedite the chapter and render it more efficient. 225 ,JOSEPH F. ~ALLEN Review for Religious 7. Our constitutions impose a retreat of one day before the general chapter. We believe that the retreat would be more helpful if made after the preliminary sessions and immediately before the election of the superior general. May we change the time of the retreat without securing authority to change the constitutions? Yes. The time is a completely accidental part of this law, and there is a sufficient reason for changing the time in this case. A day of prayer is most helpful for the quiet of soul and purification of motives that are necessary for any election, arid these effects are mo~e apt to persist undiminished when the retreat is made immediately before the supremely important election of the superior general. 8. What is the meaning of the article of our constitutions regarding Mass on the day of the election of the superior general, i. e., "If the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be that of the Holy Spirit"? The constitutions of lay congregations almost universally prescribe that Mass is to be oi~ered on the day of the election of the superior general in the house where the chapter is held. The intention usually specified is for the election of the superior general. Sometimes this intention is for all the work of the chapter. If the former intention is designated, it is to be coun-seled that Mass or Masses be offered on the following days for the other works of the chapter. The constitutions, with the same universality, exhort all the capitulars to receive Holy Communion at this Mass for the same intention. Even if the wording of the constitutions imposes this Communion as obligatory, it is to be interpreted as merely exhortatory (c. 595, § 4).° If the rubrics permit, the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit is to be the one used, since this is the traditional Mass for an election. It is found at the end of the missal, in the first series of votive Masses, under Thursday. If the ordo of the place of celebration permits, this Mass is ordinarily to be celebrated as a private votive Mass. It may be low, sung, or solemn. Private votive Masses when sung are forbidden on any double; any Sunday; on the privileged ferias (Ash Wednesday, Monday- Tuesday-Wednesday of Holy Week); on the privileged vigils 226 July, 1958 THE GENERAL CHAPTER (Christmas and Pentecost) ; within the privileged octaves (Christ-mas, Easter, and Pentecost); and on All Souls' Day. When read, they are forbidden also. on ferias of Lent and Passiontide; all vigils; ember days; Monday of Rogations (before Ascension) ; Dec. 17-23; Jan. 2-5 and 7-12; and Ascension-Vigil of Pente-cost. This Mass has no Gloria nor Gredo, occurring com-memorations and orationes imt~eratae are included according to the usual norms, the preface is proper, Benedicamus Domino is used at the end, and the last Gospel is that of St. John. If the election occurs on one of the forbidden days, the local ordinary may be requested to grant a solemn votive Mass. The election of a general or provincial superior is sufficient reason to give this permission. This must be a sung or solemn Mass. It is forbidden only on feasts and Sundays that are doubles of the first class; the privileged ferias (Ash Wednesday,.Monday- Tuesday-Wednesday of Holy Week) ; the privileged vigils (Christ-mas and Pentecost); within the privileged octaves of Easter and Pentecost; and on All Souls' Day. The rite of this Mass is the same as above; but there is a Gloria, Gredo, Ite, Missa est, and only imperative commemorations and orationes impera-tae/~ ro re gra~i are included. For greater solemnity, ~his Mass may also be requested on days when a private votive Mass is permitted. If neither type of votive Mass is possible, the Mass of the Office of the day must be said or sung. 9. An article of our constitutions states: "The superior general or, in her absence, the vicaress shall present to the members of the chapter a report of the m.aterial: personal, disciplinary, and financial status of the entire congregation and of all matters of greaier importance" that have occurred sim:e the last general chapter. The report is to be drawn up by the procurator general. It must be approved by the general council, who sign their names to the report before the celebration of the chapter." Does the procurator general draw up this entire report? No. The only part of the report that is drawn up by the procurator, bursar, or treasurer general is the financial section. All other sections of thd report are compiled by the mother 227 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious general herself. The material section under its economic or financial aspect appertains to the procurator, under an aspect such as the opening and closing of houses, to the mother general. It is evident that the personal and disciplinary state of the institute does not appertain to the office of the procurator general. 10. In the several general chapters that I have attended, I have found the reports of the brother general very fatiguing. What can be done to eliminate this difficulty? Since the reports are of the state of the entire institute, they can evidently be very long and detailed. The mere reading of such reports will be fatiguing to the capitulars; they will not grasp many of the details and can very readily fail also to perceive the general state of the institute or at least the content of some sections of the reports. The following obvious method will lessen these difficulties. The complete reports should be mimeo-graphed before the chapter, and numbered copies given to each capitular as soon after his arrival as is prudently possible. The members will then have a sufficiently prolonged time for studying the reports; and the brother general can confine his presentation to necessary explanations, descriptions, and to emphasizing the more important parts of the reports. The numbered copies are to be collected from the capitulars after the chapter of affairs. III. Tellers 11. Our constitutions speak of "scrutineers" at chapters. I cannot find this word in the dictionary. Is it correct? The Latin original is scrutator, feminine scrutatrix. The idiomatic translation that should be in constitutions is teller. Many awkward translations are found in constitutions, e. g., scrutators, scrutinizers, scrutatrixes, scrutatrices, examiners, depu-ties, anti ballot mistresses. The style of constitutions should be accurate, direct, simple, brief, and readily intelligible. All words redolent of formalism or legalistic jargon are to be avoided. A similar error is found in the many constitutions that speak of the first, second, etc., "scrutiny." This again is a completely literal translation of the Latin "scrutinium." The idiomatic English 228 July, 1958 translation is ballot. "Balk employed also to signify th, THE GENERAL CHAPTER ring" may also be used. "Ballot" is individual voting slip or ticket, but ! the context will exclude anyI ambiguity. 12. I have on several occasionsl been appointed as one of the two priest tellers at the elections in monaster.ies' of nuns (c. 506, .~ 2). Was I obliged to take the oath imp, osed by canon 171, § 1, on tellers? No The president a~ld the tellers, provided they are mem-bets of the chapter, are "ob oath to perform their dut proceedings of the chapter, A president who is not a m local ordinary who presides [iged by canon 171, § 1, to take an es faithfully and to keep secret the even after the close of the chapter. mber of the elective body, e. g., the at an election of religious women, is certainly not obliged to take" this oath. The same exemption from the oath probably ex~ends to tellers who are not members of the elective body and thlerefore to the two priest tellers at an election in a monastery of Inuns. Cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 8-1927-102-9; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 416; Scha~efer, De Religiosis, n. 512; De Carlo, ~ Jus Religiosorum, n. 129; ~Berutti, II, De Personis et de Clericis in Genere, 225; Parsons, Canonical Elections, 147; Lewis, Chap-ters in Religious Institutes, 107. 13. A local ordinary complained of the delay occasioned by the election of the two tellers and the secretary before the electi on of the mother general. What can we do t~ eliminate the source of this complaint? The local ordinary justifiably! complained. The tellers and the secretary should be el~ected in the first preliminary session of the chapter. The conlstitutions fisually put these elections under the section on the election of the mother general, but it is far more convenient to hold them in the early part of the first preliminary session. "~his greater convenience is a sufficient reason for changing the o~rder stated in the constitutions. The wording of a. 226 of the ~/ormae of 1901 appears to favor the elections at this prehmlna.ry session",n s li ct es t t eas that they are to be held before anything else. If this is done, the secre-tary can begin immediatel~y to corripi[e the acts, the tellers can 229 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious perform their duties also at the election of the committee for the reports of the mother general, and the local ordinary is spared a sufficiently long and inconvenient delay in presiding over the session for the election o~ the mother general. IV. Presiding 14. Who presides at the general chapter of a congregation of brothers? The brother general presides at the general chapter in lay institutes of men; but pontifical and diocesan constitutions can be found that give this right, personally or through a delegate, to the ordinary of the place of election. 15. Who presides at the election of a superioress of a monastery o~ nuns? In a monastery of nuns that is not subject to regulars, the president of the election 6f the superioress is the local ordinary or his delegate. If a monastery is subject to regulars, the local ordinary is to be opportunely informed of the day and hour of the election. The presidency appertains to the ordinary or his delegate, if eithdr attends; but either may attend and leave the presidency wholly or partially to the regular superior. If neither the local ordinary nor his delegate attends, the regular superior presides (c. 506, § 2). The regular superior also may preside through a delegate (c. 199, § 1). As in the case of a mother general, canon 506, § 2, confines the presidency of the local ordinary or regular superior to the election of the superioress; but this presidency is extended to the elections of the councilors by the law of many constitutions. Canon 506, § 3, forbids the appointment of the ordinary confessor of the community as a teller for the election of the superioress in a monastery of nuns. This prohibition extends to his delegation as president of. such an election, since the office of president implies also the duties of a teller. 16. Our pontifical constitutions read: "The bishop of the diocese pre-sides at the chapter as the Apostolic Delegate, personally or in the person of any priest authorized by him." Is this correct? 230 July, 1958 In the law of the C THE ~ENERAL CHAPTER ~de of Canon Law, the ordinary ~f the placd of election presides, personally or through a deIegate, at the election of the mother general in pontifical and'diocesan congregations and at both in virtue of his office as local ordinary. Before the code, May 19, 1918, the local ordinary presided at the chapters of diocesan congregations in virtue of his office but at the elections in pontifical congregations as the delegate of the Holy See. The law befoie the code was based on the apostolic constitution, "Conditae a Christo," of Leo XIII, De-cember 8, 1900, Chapter I, n. II, Chapter ~II, n. I. There. fore, the wording of your constitutions is of a law that no longer exists. This is a probable indication of constitutions that were never conformed to the Code of Canon Law. Cf. Schaefer, De Religiosis, n. 509; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, n. 251, 1; Bat-tandier, Guide Canonique, n. 363; Wernz-Vidal, III, De Religiosis, n. 119. ¯ SOME BOOKS RECEIVED [Only books sent directly to the Book Review Editor, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, are included in our Reviews and Announcements. The following books were sent to St. Marys.] The Pulpit, the Press and the Paulists. By Reverend John F. Ritzius, C.S.P. The Paulist Press, 401 West 59th Street, New York 19 New York. $1.00 (paper cover). Come, Holy Spirit.* By" Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. Society of St. Paul, 2187 Victory Boulevard~ Staten Island 14, New York. 25c (paper cover). Gli Istituti Secolari nella Nuova Legislazione Canonica. By Dr. Giuseppe M. Benucci'. Catholic Book Agency, Via de[ Vaccaro, 5, Rome. A Catholic Child's Book about the Mass. By Reverend Louis A~ Gales. Catechetical 'Guild Educational Society, 260 Summit Avenue, St. Paul 2, Minnesota. $1.95 (paper cover). My Catholic Faith. By Most Reverend Louis L. R. Morrow. My Mission House, 1324 52nd Street, Kenosha, Wisconsin. $4.00. Perpetual Help Daily Missal. In four volumes. Perpetual Help Center, 294 East 150th Street, New York 51, New York. A Land of Miracles for Three Hundred Years. By Eugene Lefebvre, C.SS.R. St. Anne's Bookshop, Ste. Anne de Beaupre, Quebec, Canada. $2.00. 231 Survey of Roman Document:s R. I~. Smil~h, S.,J. [In the present survey there will be given a summary of the documents which appeared in /Iota /lpostolicae Sedis (AAS) during the months of February and March, 1958. Page references throughout the article will be to the 1958 ,~AS (v. 50).] Pertaining to the Religious Life ON FEBRUARY 11, 1958 (AAS, pp. 153-61), the Holy Father addressed an allocution to the superiors general of the orders and congregations of religious men with generalates in the city of Rome. The allocution consisted prin-cipally of a geries of matters which the Pontiff thought it opportune to bring to the attention of his listeners. Since there is danger that religious may become imbued with existenti-alism to the detriment of eternal truthi the Pope warned ¯ superiors to draw their own inspiration from file fonts of re-vealed truth and from the teaching power of the Church. Even in ascetical matters there, are some who wish to withdraw from the teaching of the Church; accordingly, he advised su-periors to adhere firmly to the balanced and solid ascetical doctrine traditional in the Church. In this and in all other matters superiors must consult and study the question at length; but, once the~ have reached a decision, then they must un-hesitatingly lead their subjects along the path they have chosen. In this connection the Vicar of Christ deplored any attitude that would assume that the yoke of religious obedience is too heavy for men of the present time; rather the superior should constantly keep in mind that as superior he is responsible for the spiritual welfare of his subjects. His Holiness then considered the renunciation of worldly things that is common to all religious groups, however else they may be diversified. This renunciation, he remarked, must be complete in desire, though in actuality it may vary according 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS to the exigencies of each religious family. The need for this renunciation, the Pope said, is obvious; for how can anyone ascend to God by the wings of charity if. he is not free from the multiform concupiscence of the world? Moreover, no one can enjoy the comfort~ and pleasures of the world without losing something of his spirit of faith and charity. And pro-longed laxness and indulgence can gradually and insensibly lead to defection from one's state in life. The Vicar of Christ then observed to the assembled su-periors that their way of acting and judging must be different from that of the world; for their norm of action is that of the gospel and the Church: Christ crucified. Accordingly, superiors must nourish this Christian attitude in themselves by a diligent consideration of the things of God, by the study of sound doctrine, and by a familiarity with ancient and recent writers who excelled both in faith and in piety. These same norms' of thought and action must also be followed by their subjects;. they must seek not the pleasant and the comfortable but God alone, whom they will find in the assiduous control of" the senses by austerity and of the will by submission to religious obedience. The .Pontiff also spent some little time on the matter of religious rules. These were drawn up, he said, by religious fohnders to secure peace and serenity of spirit for members of their societies. While some of these rules may need modification in non-essential matters, esteem for the rule in general must never be lost. It is the duty of superiors to maintain the rule of each institute; this at times will require firmness which, however, should never degenerate into harshness. In the concluding part of his address His Holiness ex-horted his listeners to build up a spirit of union and cooperation among the various religious institutes of the Church. He urged them to be especially notable in their zealous obedience to the Holy See and advised them to be strict in the matter of admission of candidates to religious life; otherwise, he warned, 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious religious groups will be not an honor to the Church, but a disgrace. On July 30, 1957 (AAS, p. 103), the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious issued a document declaring that the apostolic constitution~ Sedes Sal~ientiae and .its accompanying Statutes are applicable to. all religious congregations and societies who li,~e in common without, public vows and who are dependent on the Sacred Congregation of the Consistory or on the Con-gregation for the Propagation of the Faith. The only exception concerns the executive function considered in Article 18 of the Statutes; in this matter the competency of .the Sacred Cons.istgry and of Propaga~tion is retained for those religious societies entrusted to those congregations by common law or .by apostolic privilege. Educational Matters Under the date of December 8, 1957 (AAS, pp. 99-I03), the Sacred Congregation .of Religious issued an important instruction concerning coeducation. The document considers the matter of coeducation only in secondary schools;' coedtica-tion in colleges and universities is not envisaged ih the document, while coeducation in primary schools is left to the discretion of the. ordinary. The document deals successively with the prin-ciples, by which a correct estimate of coeducation can be made; the obligatory norms which must be observed wherever co-education appears to be necessary; and the measures (the Latin word is aautiones) recommended to rem0.ve the evils that accompany coeducation. In the section dealing with principles the document states that coeducation on the whole cannot be approved. Although it has a number of definite advantages., still the danger it entails to morality, especially during the time of puberty, out- ¯ weigh all those advantages. Nevertheless, in some cases co-education may be a lesser evil. Thus where Catholic students would be exposed to grave danger to their faith by attending public schools and where the Catholics of the region cannot 234 July, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS afford separate schools for boys and girls, coeducation may be tolerated provided the dangers to morality are averted as far as possible. In dealing with the obligatory norms to be followed such situ~itions, the document urges~ the practice of what it calls "coinstitutional" education in place of coeducation. "Co-institution" provides for a sirigle building under a single administration with, however, separate wings or sections, one for boys, the other for girls. Such a school may have a common library as well as common science laboratories provided the latter are used at different tim~s by the boys and girls. Where this "coinstitution" is impossible, then coeducation may be tolerated; but the conduct of such coeducational schools is to be included in the quinquennial reports; moreover, each of the national councils of bishops can set up definite norms to be observed wherever coeducation is practiced in their respec-tive countries. The last section of the document then lists a series of recommendations. The religious men and women chosen to teach in coeducational schools should be persons whose virtue and judgment have already been proven. Each school should have a spiritual director who is to be in charge of the spiritual li~e of the student body. Religious men are no.t to be in charge of coeducational schools except in rare cases and then only after an indult has been secured from the Sacred Con-gregation of Religious. Common physical and gymnastic ac-tivities or competitions must be avoided. Schools should not provide boarding facilities for both sexes. Separate entrances and separate locker facilities should be provided for students of each sex. Gym classes and dramatic productions should not be in common; and boys and girls should receive separate ¯ instruction in the sixth commandment, in parts of biology, and in other similar areas of study. Finally, the document recom-mends that religious men who teach or exercise the ministry 235 Review for Religious in coeducati6nal schools should limit their activities with regard to the girl students to the exercise of their assigned work. On January 3, 1958 (AAS, pp. 82-85), the Holy Father spoke to a group of religious women associated with the work of Catholic Action. He urged them to give their students a fully human and Christian formation. They must prepare their students to judge the world as it actually is, to see how. the world should be, and then to work unceasingly until the world corresponds to the divine plan for it. The Pope praised his listeners for their endeavor to build up a strong core of Catholic Action among their students, a core which will be first in every-thing: in studies, in discipline, in piety. On December 28, 1957 (AAS, pp. 118-19), the Sacred Peniter~tiary released the text of a prayer composed by the Holy Father to be recited by those who teach. Teachers may gain an indulgence of 1,000 days each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart. Family Life On January 2.0, 1958 (AAS, pp. 90-96), the Roman Pontiff addressed the members of the Italian Federation of Associations of Large Families. After pointing out that one of the most dangerous aberrations of modern paganized society is the opinion of those who define fecundity in marriage as a social malady, he continued by remarking that common sense has always recognized large families as the sign and proof of physical health, while history shows that the non-observance of the laws of marriage and of procreation is a primary cause ot~ the decadence of nations. Later in hi~ talk the Holy Father takes up the matter of overpopulation. God, he said, does not deny the means of livelihood to those whom He has called into life. If individual episodes, large or small as the case may be, at times seem to prove the contrary, these are in reality only signs that man has placed some impediment to the execution of the divine plan. 236 Ju~, 1958 ROMAN ~)OCUMENTS Overpopulation, then, to the extent that it exists, is due not to the inertia of Providence but to the disorder of men. Since progress in science and newly discovered sources of energy guarantee the earth prosperity for a long time to come, since no one can foresee what now-hidden resources will one day be discovered in our planet, and since no one can tell whether the rate of procreation will always be equal to that of today, overpopulation is not a valid reason for the use of illicit means of birth control. It would be more rational to apply human energy to the eradication of the causes of famine in underdeveloped countries, to foster less nationalistic economies, and to replace egoism by charity, avarice by justice. Moreover, God does no~ demand of men responsibility for the over-all destiny of humanity--that is His affair; but He does demand of them that they follow the dictates of their consciences. In the final section of the allocution the Holy Father says that in the intention of God every family is to be an oasis of spiritual peace. This is especially true of large families, for in the parents of such families there is no trace of .anguish of conscience or fear of an irreparable return to solitude; in such families, too, thework and hardship involved are repaid even in this life by the affection of the children. A large family assists in the formation of character; indeed, in the history of the Church large families would seem to have a special preroga-tive of producing saints, as is shown in the cases of St. Louis, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Robert Bellarmine, and St. Pius X. The Pontiff concluded his speech by urging his listeners to work unceasingly for the economic welfare and protection of large families, dxhorting them to wake society from its lethargy on this point. On January 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 85-90), His Holiness "addressed 15,000 Italian women engaged in domestic work. He told them that their work excelled other forms of labor such as agricultural or industrial occupations, for these latter are chiefly concerned with things, while their own work is con- 237 R. F. SMITH l~eview for Religious cerned with persons. Because 0f this the relations between domestic servants and their employers must be. regulated not only by the laws of commutative justice but also by.a mutual interchange of human values. Love must lighten the tasks of the domestic worker; and that love can not be repaid by money alone, but by an exchange of affection. He further p?inted out to his listeners that they must gauge the importance of their work by considering that their activity is directed to the existence and stability of family life. Hence, they should be concerned for the good name of the family they work for,. seek to develop harmony among its members, and help in the correct formation of the children. He concluded his allocution by urging the women listening to him to consider their work as a service rendered to God in the person of their neighbor; he also reminded the employers of domestic servants that these servants, if they devote all their activity to their work, themselves deserve a family wage. On December 30, 1957 (AAS, pp. 119~20), the Sacred Penitentiary published the text of a prayer composed by the Holy~Father to be recited by members of Christian families, who, each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart, may gain an indulgence of 1,000 days. Miscellaneous Several documents which appeared in February and March concern the liturgy and the Church's life of worship. On February 8, 1958 (AAS, p. 114), the Holy Office issued a document condemning the growing practice of delaying baptism because of alleged liturgical reasons bolstered by foundationless opinions concerning the condition of infants dying without baptism. Hence, the Holy Office warns the faithful that infants should be baptized as soon as possible in accordance with canon 770. Five days later on February 14, 1958 (AAS, p. 114), the Holy Office issued another document dealing with another 238 July, 1958 ROMAN DOCUMENTS abuse, this one consisting in adding prayer or scripture passages to liturgical functions or in deleting prescribed pfayers~ from such functions. The document restates the current discipline of the Church that only the Holy See. can make changes in the ceremonies, rites, prayers, and readings of liturgical functions. On February 5, 1958 (AAS, p. 104), the Sacred Congre-gation of Rites empowered lbcal ordinaries to permit the blessing of ashes to be repeated before afternoon Mass on Ash Wednesday, provided the Mass is attended by large numbers of the faithful. Under.the date of January 7, 1958 (AAS, pp. 179-81), the same congregation ai~proved the miracles needed for the canonization: of Blessed Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-1854), .widow and foundress of the~ Carmelite Sisters of Charity. ~ Four other talks of the Holy Father, the texts of whic~ were published du.ring February~ and March, should be noted. On i%bruary 1~8, 1958 (AAS, pp. 161-69), His Holiness delivered the traditio'nal¯ allocution to. the parish priests and Lenten preachers of Rome. He urged .his listeners to make the greatest efforts during the forthcoming extraordinary mission to' be held throughout the city of Rome on the occasion of the centenary of the apparitions at Lourdes. He told them to stress three matters. The first is' that of the sanctificati6n of Sundays and holy days; the second is respect for one's own life and, hence, a repudiation of suicide, a ~in which not only excludes the normal channels of divine mercy, but is also an indication 'of a lack of~'Christian faith and hope;' the third point to be stressed is respect for the lives of others to be shown by a sense of Christian responsibility with regard to the ingreasing traffic accidents in the city of Rome. He concluded his allocu-tion by exhorting the priests present to tell the people during the coming mission that the world needs priest and religious saints, but above all at the present time it needs a multitude of lay saints. 239 R. F. SMITH On January 14, 1958 (AAS, pp. 150-53), the Pontiff addressed the professors and students of the Angelicum, urging them to imitate in their lives St. Thomas Aquinas. Like that great saint, they should have the greatest docility and respect for the teaching authority of the Church; like him they should strive for a profound knowledge of Scripture; and in imitation of him they should foster an intense interior life where charity, the queen of the virtues, may reign[ On February 22, 1958 (AAS, pp. 170-74), 10,000 rail-road workers of Italy heard an allocution given by the Holy Father. The Pontiff: told his audience that their occupation should constantly remind them of the most important of human travels--human life itself which is a journey to the possession of God. On February 19, 1958 (AAS, pp. 174-76), the Pon-tiff broadcast a message to the school children of the United States to solicit their charity for the needy children of other countries. He devoted his message to St. Joseph, telling the children that St. Joseph who is the protector of the Church is asking them to contribute their part to the needs of other children throughout the world. Two documents of the period under survey concern political matters. On February 1, 1958 {AAS, pp. 68-81), a convention was ratified between the Apostolic See and the Republic of Bolivia. On January 27, 1958 {AAS, pp. 121-22}, the Sacred Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by His Holiness to be recited by Catholic legislators and poli-ticians. Each time they recite the prayer with contrite heart they can gain an indulgence of three years. The last document to be considered was issued on February 15, 1958 (AAS, p. 116), as a declaration of the excommunica-tion of three Hungarian priests who participated' in the Hun-garian Parliament contrary to the decree of the same congre-gation previously issued on July 16, 1957 (See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January 15, 1958, pp. 48-49). 240 t oo! Reviews [Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] MAN AND HIS HAPPINESS. Theology Library, Vol. III. Edited by A. M. Henry, O.p. Translated from the French by Charles Miltner, C.S.C. Pp. xxxix and 420. Fides Publishers Associa-tion, Chicago. 1956. $6.50. THE VIRTUES AND STATES OF LIFE. Theology Library, Vol. IV. Edited by A. Mo Henry, O.P. Translated from the French by Robert J. Olsen and Genevieve T. Lennon. Pp. xii and 778. Fides Publishers Association, Chicago. 1956. $8.75. With these two volumes the Theology Library moves into the realm of moral theology. The Preface and Introduction to Volume III are at pains to point out that in the conception of the authors moral theology is not distinguished from dogmatic theology as is done in many manuals. Volume III treats of moral matters in their general principles: the happiness of man, psychological and moral analysis of human action, the passions, habits and virtues, sin, law, and grace. Volume IV descends to a more particular treatment which considers the theological virtues, the cardinal virtues, charismatic gifts, the functions, states, and orders in the Church, the active and the contemplative life, and, finally, Christian perfection. It is safe to wager that the matter contained in these volumes will prove very interesting simply because of the subject matter which certainly "comes home to our hearts and our bosoms." Father 'Tonneau's remarks in the Introduction to Volume III about the mistake of transferring mere social relations to our rela-tions to God and thus trying to determine the pattern of morality and its foundation are timely. God is primarily a creator of natures before being a legislator. The brief sketch of Christian mora|ity -from the New Testament in the introductory chapter is from the pen of Father Spicq who is well qualified for the task. One may well ask, though, whether the distinction, not to use a stronger word, which he draws between the morality of the Old and the New Testaments is not overdone. As in the preceding volumes, each chapter is followed by a section called "Reflexions and Perspectives" and by a bibliography. In these volumes the French bibliography is not translated into English. 241 .Review for Religiou:~ It may come as a surprise to many (it should be a pleasant surprise) to find a treatise on morality opening with a consideration about man's happiness. This was prepared for by Father Tonneau's Introduction wherein morality is seen in the perspective, not primarily; of law and obligation, but of rational pursuit of happiness. The profundity of this starting-point becomes apparent when the author shows, rightly it seems, that man has a natural de~ire for seeirig the essence of God." The chapter on the passions is well done and brings to light some poin. ts about "the irascible" which are either neglected or, worse, misunderstood. In the chapter on grace there is a long introdtictory section on the meaning of grace in Scripture. This is definitely a gain. Unfortunately, the study is'confined~ mainly to the word grace and its meaning. Such a method leaves wide gaps: in St. Paul the meaning of the terms Spirit and spiritual should have been studied to help grasp the reality of the gift and its super-naturality. Actually, the writer was forced to follow such a pro-cedure for St. John who. expresses the reality of grace by the term eternal life. The theological treatment of grace is admittedly a difficult task. Even given the scriptural foundations, the history of thought about grace is almost required if one is to grasp "the" significance of t~rms, problems, and solutions. Here it seems that 'the work has not been well done. The various divisions of the meaning of the word grace include that of operative and cooperative. Augustine provided the basis for this distinction, but the explanation given on page 384 does not 'correspond with that of St. Thomas in I-II,111,2. Further, the statement about the meaning of excitant and assistant grace in the Council of Trent is not correct. Now, while one may legitimately develop his own theory and interpretation of both Thomas and Trent, it ought to be made clear, especially with regard to the council, that this is' an interpretation. Finally, what was the use of this discussion on operative, and cooperative grace? It seems that the distinction functions only once. in the subsequent pages and, actually, provides no clarification in its application. The whble treatment, of justification is unsatisfying. The writer seems to be so anxious to insist on the instantaneous occurrence of justification that he neglects other equally important aspects of the matter. In., Volume IV, on the virtues and the states of life,, we have matter which will prove still more interesting. It is in this volumd that greater originality is attempted, all the while adhering to the 242 July, 1958 BOOK REVIEWS fundamental doctrine of St. Thomas. Of all the chapters in this volume the most original is the first, on faith, by Father Li~g~. It may well prove to be the most helpful: it is concrete, psychological as well as metaphysical, and offers some excellent suggestions about the faith in reference to its different "ages" in the child, the adolescent, the adult. Finally, this chapter is up-to-date. The writer takes full cognizance of the latest work on the relation of sigfis (miracles) to th~ genesis of the act of faith, the question of immanence and connaturality.in the judgment of credibility, and the need of affirming the motive of faith in the act of faith. This latter point is well brought out by insisting on the very meaning of revelation as the self-disclosure of a person ~o persons. The fact of Jesus Christ's being "the fulness of the Word of God" is established and the consequences of this for a right understanding of the development of dogma are indicated. The insistence, in the last chapter, on the call of all Christians to perfection is most acceptable and~ forms a fitting close to the two volumes °which began with the statement that man naturally desires to know and love God in whom his happiness and, therefore, his perfection consists. . If we must add here some complaints that were voiced about the earlier volumes of the Theology Library, we must be forgiven for the simple reason that we are performing the duty of a revie~ker. First, the translation, in general, is better. Yet there are numerous blunders. There is still the tendency to retain in English the narrative present tense of the French; the antecedents of pronouns are not always clear. There is no doubt that some of the responsibility for the difficulty exlSerienced by the English reader lies with the authors of the articles themselves. They have written rapidly, even hastily, so that, at times, one gets the impression that he is reading jottings. Combine this with the difficulty of the subject matter and the technical vocabulary (sometimes Latin phrases and sentences are left in the original Latin), and you have books which will not prove easy reading for the un-initiated.-- JA,x~ES J. DOYLIL S.J. THE WORSHIP OF THE CHURCH. A Companion to Liturgical Studies. By William J. O'Shea, S.S., D.D. Pp. 646.The lqew. n/an Press, Westminster," Maryland. 1957. $7.00. After more than thirteen years of careful preparation, Father O'Shea presents in the present volume a comprehensive, mode[n study, well calculated to supplement knowledge of the liturgy gleaned from 243 ]~OOK REVIEWS Review for Religious primary sources. The author treats his subject very thoroughly from all important aspects and with great attention to detail. The result is a fund of thought-provoking material not only for the dlerical reader (for whom the book was ~riginally intended) but also for all who would draw near to the fullest participation in ~he official prayer of the Church. Having explained the definition of the liturgy given in Mediator Dei, Father O'Shea goes on to discuss its latreutic-sanctifying purpose. Attention is here and elsewhere given to the pivotal question of re-quisite interior disposition without which external liturgical elements quickly degenerate into vacuous formalism. As interior devotion fosters liturgical observance, so too the liturgy occasions (and even causes through its sacraments) an increase in interior graces con-sonant with its purpose: the glory of God and the sanctification of souls. Further chapters turn in detail to the impersonal and objective components of the full liturgy in the light of its historical develop-ment under the guidance of the Holy See. The Holy Sacrifice, the Divine Office, the sacraments, and the major sacramentals are all treated in great detail, as well as their exterior surroundings, in-clusive of vestments, liturgical music, and art forms. A special chapter is devoted to consideration of the liturgical year. The whole book spells out the magnificent plan of the liturgy intoa splendid living, mosaic of corporate worship in which the individual grows in grace as he willingly" takes active part. There are difficulties. But the cumulative effect of the pre-sentation is intellectually satisfying, if the reader is willing to work and does not allow himself to be weighed down by the great mass of detail. Firmly grounded intellectual conviction about the value of the full liturgy is precisely what is needed and is precisely what the author brings to his persistent student. The conclusion reached, however, will be best realized by most of us through actual par-ticipation in the full liturgy, to which the book is but the necessary scientific prelude. Great stress is accorded throughout the work to the corporate character of Christian worship, in which each member of the Mystical Body of Christ is ideally to participate in the fullest measure allowed by his state of life. The result is a desired liturgical context in which the various recognized systems of spirituality participate and from which they draw in due proportion to their secondary purposes assigned by the Church. 244 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS The presentation is characteristically positive and enthusiastic in its total import. Its major thesis is one that recommends itself to the prayerful consideration of all who are in a position to influence liturgical practice--if only in their own lives. In practice, for the individual religious or diocesan priest the theme idea may merely mean the more spirited performance of liturgical actions already engaged in. But depth of spirit here and desire for fuller participation under the guidance of obedience are viewed as an excellent index of sound spirituality in full accord with the mind of the Church'. The book is well recommended to the serious student and for conferences to religious, aimed at deeper appreciation of our liturgical heritage.--.¥IATTHE\V ~_~. CREIGHTON, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCI=MI=NTS THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michigan Avenue, N.E., Washington 17, D. C. Fast and Abstinence in thd First Order of Saint Francis. A Historical Synopsis and a Commentary. By Jordan J. Sullivan, O.F.M.Cap. This is a dissertation submitted to the faculty of the Catholic University of America. Pp. 133. Paper 2.00. CLONMORE & REYNOLDS,. LTD., 29 Kildare Street, Dublin. Mary. Mary's Seven Words. Mary's Seven Sorrows. By Peter Lippert, S. J. Simple, thought-provoking material suitable for medi-tation and spiritual reading. Pp. 78. Paper 5/6. Saint Clare of Assisi. By a Poor Clare Colettine. Meditations on the life and virtues of St. Clare. P.72. Paper 3/-. Saint Anthbny of Padua. By Olive M. Scanlan. A brief bi-ogral:; hy of a very popular saint. Pp. 62. Paper 4/6. Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. By Dom Ernest Graf, O.S.B. A commentary and explanation of the new liturgy of Holy Week. Books like this are necessary if the faithful are to learn to appreciate the new liturgy. Pp. 88. Paper 5/-. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 744 East 79th Street, Chicago 19, Illinois. What They Ask About the Church. By Monsignor J. D. Con-way. The questions are real and the answers have appeared for the most part in the Davenport Catholic Messenger and the Catholic 245 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious Digest. Here they are ~irranged topically under six heads. If you are looking for honest, clear, and convincing answers to the ques-tions non-Catholics ask about the Church, you will find them in the book. It should prove a valuable aid to all engaged in convert work. Pp. 338. $3.95. FRANCISCAN EDUCATIONAL CONFERENCE, Capuchin Col-lege, Washington 17, D. C. Franciscan Life Today. Report of the thirty-seventh annual meeting of the Franciscan Educational Conference, St. Anthony's Seminary, Santa Barbara, California, August 12-14, 1956. The topics discussed at the conference were all ascetical and as such of interest to all religious. We single out for special mention the following: Renovatio Accommodata; the place of the religious state, of the religious priesthood, of the religious brother in the Church; the value of the common life; genuine concept of obedience; modern dangers to chastity. Pp. 326. Paper $3.75. HAWTHORNE BOOKS, INC., 70 Fifth Avenu'e, New York I1, New York. This Is the Mass as described by Henri Daniel-Rops, as cele-brated by Fulton J. Sheen, as photographed by Yousuf Karsh, with an introduction by Bishop Sheen. We can never understand ~nd appreciate the Mass adequately and so must strive always to grow in understanding and appreciation of this august mystery. No opportunity to learn more about the Mass should be allowed to escape us. If you have read re. any books about the Ma~s, do not dismiss this one as just another book, for its read!ng will profit you greatly; if you have not, this is an excellent book with which to begin your study of the "perfect act of worship of God. Pp. 159. $4.95. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Lo.uis 2, Missouri. Summa of the Christian Life. Vol. III. Selected texts from the WritinSs of Venerable Louis of Granada. O.P, Translated and adapted by Jordan. Aumann, O.P: This is the final volume of a classic treatment on the Christian life. It is number eleven in the "Cross and Crown Series of Spirituality." In this volume, which is divided into three books, th~ first, of 206 pages, deals with the Life of Christ;-the second, 0f 102 pages, treats of the sacr.aments; the third, of 46 pages, is on the last things: death, judgment, the p~ains of hell, eternal glory. Pp. 372. $4.75. 246 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS P. J. KENEDY. & SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, New York. My Last Book, by James M. Gillis, C.S.P., is a book of informal meditations. The ai~thor characterizes them in these words: "These meditations are designed primarily as a help to 'personal religion.'" Again "What. we seek is quiet consideration, reflection, concentration upon the truths of religion." You will like these meditations, the last work of a man grown old in the service of God--he was eighty-one when he diedmand determined to work for God even in his fihal illness. Pp. 246. $3.95. LOYOLA UNIVERS~'TY PRESS, 3441 North Ashlarid Avenue, Chic'~go 13, Illinois. Challenge. By fohn W. O'Malley, S.J., Edward J. McMaho.n, S.J., Robert E. Cahill, S.J., and Carl J. Armbruster, s.J. Challenge is a prayerbook intended primarily for the y?ung, for those not too old to be roused to give of their best when they meet a challenge. It is much more than just a collection of prayer formulae, for it essays to guide its readers to an intense and elevated spirithal life. Ev~en mental prayer "comes in for excellent treatment. The ideals it unfolds for the user are highf they offer a definite challenge. This is a prayerbo~k which you will want to reco'mmend to your students, You might even find it profitable for your own use. ~Sp. 243.~2.50. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Our Lady Queen of the Religious Life. By Louis~Colila, C.SS.R. Translated by Sister Maria Constance and Sister Agnes Th~r~se. ALl .religious instinctively venerate Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as their Mother and Queen. Father Cblin articulates this instinctive devotion in a new title of' Mary as Queen of the Religious Life. He writes this book not to prove a thesis, for One does not prove what all accept unquestioningly, but to show how very appropriate the title is. The book is divided into t[iree parts. In Part One he shows how~our Lady is the ideal df the.religiou~ life; in Part Two he explains how Mary ig the source of that life; and in Part Three he treats of the" Marian devotion of religious. You will"like this book. Pp. 234. $3.75. Melody" in Your Hearis. Edited by Reverend Georg'e L. Kane. This book is ~/" very ~interesting "and eklifyirig human document: Thirteen sisters tell what" "the religious life ha~ been ~fid meant for them, thdir satisfaction in their work, their joys ahd ~orrows, dis- 247 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious appointments and achievements. Four years ago these same sisters gave the reascms that prompted them to become religious in the book Why I Entered the Cdnvent. The present volume is another effective instrument to promote vocations to the religious life among young girls. Pp. 173. $3.00. Woodstock Papers No. 1. A Catholic Primer on the Ecumenical 'Movement. By Gustave Weigel, S.J. Pp. 79. Paper 95c. Woodstock Papers No. 2 The Testimony of the Patristic Age Concerning Mary's Death. By Walter J. Burghardt, S.J. Pp. 59. Paper 95c. These two volumes introduce a new series of theological essays projected by the .professors of Woodstock College. Several are to appear each year. They are intended primarily for the grow-ing number of lay men and women interested in theology. This means that they will be written in a popular vein yet with care so as not to sacrifice theological accuracy. The choice of topics will be such as to be of interest and assistance, so the projectors of the .series hope, also to their colleagues in the field. Guidance in Spiritual Direction. By Reverend Charles Hugo Doyle. "Tl~e dual purpbse of this book," the author tells his reader, "is to interest more priests in becoming spiritual directors in the fullest sense of the word, and, at the same time, to provide, in as logical and simple a manner as possible, fundamental rules in spiritual guidance as found in the writings of the great masters of the spiritual life." After you have read the book, you will agree that the author does accomplish his second aim. Only time can tell whether he will also gain his first purpose. Pp. 301. $4.75. Stonyhurst Scripture Manuals: The Gospel According to Saint Matthew. The Gospel According to Saint Luke. The Gospel According to Saint John. The general editor of the series is Philip Caraman, s.J. The commentary and the introduction for each volume are by C. C. Martindale, s.J. The books are intended for school use; and the notes and commentaries, therefore, are such as will be most useful for students studying the Gospels for the first time. The volumes average better than 200 pages and sell for $3.00 each. Martyrs of the United States. Manuscript of Preliminary Studies Prepared by the Commission for the Cause of Canonization of the Martyrs of the United States. Edited by Reverend Monsignor James M. Powers, LL.D. This book deserves wide circulation. From it you will learn to your surprise that there are 118 individuals who 248 July, 1958 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS cain claim to have died a martyr's death in the United States. They deserve to be better known. You can advance their cause by learaing to know them, by invoking their aid privately, and by getting others to do so. Pp. 196. $3.20. The Best Poems of John Banister Tabb. Edited with an intro-duction by Dr. Francis E~ Litz. An exceptional treat for the lovers of verse. The poems are arranged in chronological order and so the reader can follow the development of Father Tabb's art~ Pp. 191. $3.00. A Legend of Death and Love. By Joseph Kerns, S.J'. Illustrated by Edward O'Brien. A Poem of 454 lines concerning a heroic trumpeter of Cracow, the Tartar invasion, and our Lady. Pp. 45. 1.75. ST. GREGORY SEMINARY, Mount Washington Station, Cincinnati 30, Ohio. Mosaic of a Bishop. Des.igned by Reverend Maurice E. Reardon, S.T.D. Here is something original in biography. You meet the late archbishop of Cincinnati, John T. McNicholas, O.P., S.T.M., in his own writings. You learn of the details of his life from numerous notes and essays of the designer which serve to introduce many of the sermons, addresses, and lectures. The whole makes a very im-pressi_ ve monument to a distinguished churchman. Pp. 365. $6.00. SHEED & WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3, New York. The Risen Christ. By Caryll Housela~der. The author needs no introduction, since most ~eaders are familiar with her books an~ the originality and freshness of her thought. She died almost four years ago (October 12, 1954), and so it is something of a mystery to find her author of a new book. No ghost writer is involved, for the style and manner are geauine. The publishers could throw light on this problem, but have not chosen to do so. We recommend this book unreservedly. We found it very stimulating and predict that you will too. Pp. 111. $2.75. The Priestly Life. A Retreat by Ronald Knox. This retreat was given by Father Knox to semiaarians when death was imminent though he did not realize it. In it he shares with his audience the wisdom gathered in a long and active life. Though the meditations were written for priests and seminarians, the faults pointed out and the virtues insisted upon are faults all of us should correct and virtues we should all strive to acquire. Pp. 176. $3.00. 249 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious Approach to Penance. By Dom Hubert van Zeller, O.S.B. "If you were asked to put on paper what you know about penance, it is. very. likely that you would not need very much paper, particularly if you were told to leave the sacrament of penance out ot: account. If this is true, then you must read Dom ZeIler's book Approach to Penance. In it you will find an unusually complete and adequate treatment of what most ot: us findto be a painful subject. He does not succeed in making penance attractive, but he will convince you olc its necessity and show you how you can practice it.~ Pp. 104. World Crisis and the Catholic. Here is a collection of studies by lay Catholic men and women, all of whom have become nationally or even internationally prominent in their various fields. They view the modern world and its problems and indicate, each in his own field, what must be done to arrive at a solution: Pp. 231. $3.00. SISTERS OF THE VISITATION, 202 Bancroft Parkway, Wilming-ton 6, Delaware. Lights and Counsels, by the late Right Reverend Alfred A. Curtis, D.D., is a collection of brief spiritual thoughts, one for each day of the year. This is a new printing and now contains an index. Pp. 125. Paper 50c. Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor cat~ort ldw at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] --20 - John and. Mary, both of the Syrian rite, immigrated to this country and settled in a town that had only a church of the Latin rite. Thus both automatically passed to the Latin rite. Their daughter Rose, now a professed religious of perpetual vows, was baptized in this Latin "church and consequently is a Latin.~ Are my conclusions correct? No. John and l~.ary remained in the Syrian rite, since par-ticipation ,in another rite, no matter how prolonged, does not effect a change of rite (c. 98, ~ 5). Rose should have been baptized in the rite of her Syrian parents (c. 756, § 1),. She belongs to the rite in which she should ordinarily have been baptized, even if a 25O July, 1958 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS serious reason legitimated the baptism in another rite (c. 98, § 1), and is therefore of the Syrian rite. Her religious professions are valid, since the permission for an Oriental to enter a Latin novitate is required only for the liceity, not the validity, of the noviceship (c. 542, 2°).~ However, even though Rose is a professed of per-petual vows, this permission is still to be obtained. This whole subject and the m~nner of requesting the permission were explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1949, 241-54. Does there exist any canonical prohibition against institutes of men having authority over or the direction of

Issue 47.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1988. ; A Spirituality of Suffering Issues and .Trends--1987 Advance Health-Care Directives Evaluating Chapters Volume 47 Number,2 March/April 1988 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REvmw FOR REL=G=OUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REvmw FOR RELiGiOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors March/April, 1988 Volume 47 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW VOR REIoU;IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REWEW VOR RE~olt;Iot~S; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Charism as E powerment to Discerff, to, De.cide,, tO Act, to Assess : F:intan D: Sheeran, SS.CC:. ' ~, Fathbr Fint~n D. 'Sheei'an'is a priest ih the" Congregation of, the Sacred Hearts. He works p~'esently as a.consultant.to religious communities and resides in his Congre-gatio, n's formatjo.,.n.~.c.ommunity, in Ch,everly, ,Ma.ryland: This is ,hi~s first contribution to our pages. He may:be addressed. ~ at Damien House; 6013 Inwood Stre~et;,. Chev-. erl~, Maryland 20785. harles de.,Gaulle.is supposed to have puzzled ove.r the possibility of.gov-erning a people who had more,t~.an three hundred diffeyent cheeses. Per-haps Church authoritie~s~are affli.cted with somewhat similar doubts as they cpntemplate the present state,of religiou~s life .and,especially the pre-sent state,of study and writing 9.n,the re.ligious life. ~Prior .to the CQuncil, a narrowly ju.ridic and0institutional~ u~nderstanding ~i'nd interpretation of re,ligious life0dominated practi.caily all writing and reflection on the sub-ject and there was consider~ible:hom.og.eneity in the field, even by pre-conciliar~ standards. Since the Council, there has been.a rich and continu-i, ng outpouring of reflection as atte,mpts have been and go on being made to understand and to.reinterpret,the religious life from various~vantage pojn~ts including in the light of.dev~eloping experience. The author of~one such ,r.ecent .i~nterpretatip.n, ,Sar~dra .Schnei.ders,. ob.serves about .this, "What a).l~ of t.hese attempts have demonstrated is the richness of the phe-nomenon of religious life and,.the,fecun~dity of approachi.ng its mean!ng fnraotemd b_trhoea dtheero.p.looignyt~s ooff 'rveileiwgi othuasn l itfhee a dt olegamsat tsiicn jcuer itdhiec aCl oounnec tihl.aotf h ~arde ndto. m~iz One fairl3~ prominent feature of all, of this.reflection has been the con-siderable ¯ attention given to charism the charism of, religious life, the charism of founders, the charism of particular congregations. This atten- 161 Review for Religious, March-APr~ il 1988 tion has included reflection by religious themselves, u~sually in a pastor-~ ally oriented way, as an element of such enterprises as rewriting consti-tutions, establishing apostolic criteria or mission statements and so on. Then, forthe first time, there have been statements on charism in offi-cial Church documents. These have been well noted. Evangelica Tes-tificatio speaks of the charism of founders (n. I I ) and Mutuae Relationes of the chai'ism of particular congregations (nn. I l, 12). Finally, charism has been touched on, to a greater or lesser degree, by practically every t.heologian writing comprehensively about the religious life since Vati-can II.2 Among theologian~ none has given more particular attention to the nature and role of charism in religious life than Tillard in line with his strong accent on the religious life as the "following of Christ." I will touch briefly on some of his reflections on charism referring in par-ticular to his There Are Charisms and Charisms.3 What I wish to speak about in this pres.ent article is Charism from a dynamic or "functional" perspective rather than from the point ofview of '~'content," meahing ho~ a charism is a particular Gospel orientation with certain evangelical accents and nuances. I am concerned rather with how a charism "func-tions" if one can speak in such a way, in the ongoing life of a congrega-tion, how it can be a source of life, of unity and of dynamic newness. A religious congregation is born of a Personal and particular experi-ence of Christ and his Spirit, a charismatic experience in the sense that it is the Spirit alone who initiates the encounter that leads to such a re-alization. ".the charism~of the religious life, far from being an im-pulse born of flesh and blood . ~. is the fruit of the Holy Spirit." (Evangelica Testifi~atio n. 11). "The 'charism ~f the founders' (ET n. 11) .appears as 'an experience of the Spirit'." (Mutuae Relationes n. 11). The person is ~eized by the Spirit. To iliuminate this experienc,e Til-lard turns to the New Testament narratives of apostolic vocation and re-sponse. 4 It is Jesus who invites; it is he;who takes the initiative, filling the life of the person ~ind leading them to the service of the kingdom. This divine initiative d0e~ not at :all depend upon any moral excellence on the part of the humarl partner in the encounter nor does it of itself im-mediately :add anything to their moral stature. (This point has larger im-plications with which we are not immediately concerned here with ref-erence to the truth that vocation to the religious life is in no way a call to any "higher" degree or form of holiness than the call of every Chris-tian in virtue of baptism.) It is an encounter with the Risen Lord which reorients the persoh's life creating a mysterious enthusiasm in which ex-planation for the otherwise inexplicably radical response is rooted. As Charism as Empowerment / 16~$ John Lozano remarks, commenting on the call of the apostles: ¯ . .They leave e~,erything--family and occupation--and go off with him. As an event in a chronicle, it would not make any sense. But it is not just any "unknown man" who passes through the account . The center of it all is relationship with Christ, understood, of cou~:se, in a post-resurrecti~on sense, when these accounts were shaped as an ex-pression of faith in theoSon of God.5 For the founder and for every religious, as for the apostles, this fol-lowing of Christ originates in an encounter'which is "charismatic"--it is of Christ and his Spirit. At the deepest level the reason a person be-comes a founder (or a member) of a religious congregation is ": . . not a for . . . but a because of. One does. not become a religious for something, ,with a view to something; one enters the religious life be-cause of JesUs Christ and0his ascendancy.''6 I make these remarks and references centering on the fundamental character of the charism of religious life because while my concern in this article is with the ongoing dynamism of charism in our religious com-munities this dynamism is inseparable from what charism is at root. Be-fore moving along it is also worth no~ting some of the marks of authen-ticity of the charism of a congregati6n, marks which continue to have considerable import for the life of a group. Mutuae Relationes mentions a number of the "true marks of an authentic charism" (12). One of these is a distinct quality of newness. "Every authentic charism brings an ele-ment. of real originality in the spiritual life of the Church along with fresh initiatives for action" (12). (The document does'not fail to note that this very newness may be a cause of difficult);. Most religious congregations can offer some testimony from their history to the truth of this. observa-tion. Nor need they always go back.to the archives to obtain it.) It is help-ful to look at something of the nature of this "newness." . The newness of charism is a n~wness of action and realization and not just of thoughts and words. The charism translates into pastoral life and action on behalf of God's people and not just into words and docu-ments. It is an originality which relates intimately and penetratingly to the reality of a particular time and place. Founders and foundresses are people of their own time, place, and culture, and they have a keen aware-ness of their environment. Moreover, they discover their vocation pre-cisely in the context of that environment. It is in terms of their percep-tion of reality and of their vision and articulation of a response that the newness of the Spirit is revealed. Their concrete pastoral response is a "fresh initiative for action"; ~it is new; it is other than the response (or 16~1 / Review forReligious, .March-April 1988 lack of response) customarily being made by'society .or tt~e Church to this part!cular need. In facL it frequently reveals the~pgvert~y of the percep-tion and the.ineptitude.of the response of the Church~and of society ~gener-ally. No wonder, as Mutua'e Relationes delicatel,y remarks, such re-sponses "~ay appear unseasonable to many." A further trem(ndously powerful element of the'freshness and :new-ness of c,harism is an aspect of which we are be(oming more awa~re. It is that the charism empo.wers the ,founders of religiou_s_:congregations to anticipate and to shape the,future in concretely effective~ways. Charism is, by its. very nature futtire-0riented. But it is an,orientation filled with purpose and with the power to achieve its purpose. This becomes clear when we read the histories.of our congregations in. the light of whatis for u~ arelatively recent perception: that history procee~ds, from, the choices, decisions and actidns 9f individuals'and particularly of groups, organized groups,of all osorts--politic'alo parties,, unions, corporations, churches, and so forth. Social realities are, the result, of human choices and decisions made in the context of economic, social,.political alterna-- tires and not simply the product~ of blind 'processes. and intractable natu-ral. forces. These actions ot~ individuals and groups create structures and systems 'whiCh in turn condition and limit our perception and options. The Shape of our society is chosen. The choi(es and action of the Church and its commuhities"fall within this complex. A~social history of eight-eenth- and nineteenth-century Europe."would surely show that society~as it was then constituted required .and secured the existence of large masses of illiierate poor in order to maintain itself as it actually was. When in-spired women and men commiited themselves to creating religious con, gregations who would,educate and care for the. illiterate poor, they did much ~more than perform an immediate work of mercy~--they became ef-fective ~gent.s of social transformation. They anticipated and shaped an alternate, future, a "new" future. The "newness" which has charism as its source is dynamic and creative; it "renews the face of the earth," "In realit.y, the charism of the religious life . . is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, who is always at work within the Church.'. It is precisely here that the dynamism pr.oper.to each religious.famil3) finds its origin" (ET, 11). My concern with charism ~is exactly with the dynamism proper to religious congregations not simply as regards their origins but more as regards their ongoing life and mission. Again the actual experience of the foundersand foundresses is illuminating. Orie significant practi, cal outcome o~f~a renewed .focus on~ charism in many congregatiQns has been the serious study given to the lives of the founders anti, also in some charism as Empowerment / 165 instances to congregations" initial or "'primitive" commt~nities. These studies have been motivat(d by a~desire to rediscover th~ originating his-tory of the community as it really was and especially to know the persoh oLthe founder or foundress freed from the m3~ths and apocrypha which had often accumulated over years of neglect of critical history. Almost invariably, the result has been someth.ing like the restoration or,rediscov-ery of the work of Michaelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. Anyone who has had the opportunity to be present while the work of restoration in' the Chapel has been going on has to have been powerfully impressed by see-ing the ~"old" and the. "new" side by side. From behind the dust and debris of years thereoemerges into the light astonishingly rich and pow-erful portraits, far more striking and iml6ressive than the painting that had been accepted as authentic for years. Similarly, the women and men with whom we come into contact in recent studies of foundress~s and foun-ders ~re~p.eople'of'vividly living faith, of prophetic imagination and origi-nality; they are deeply human people with 'a'great stor~e of practicality arid common sense; men and women who were wholly, given to the Church'e~,en as they'had the insight and courage to name its needs and to confront its resistan~'eg.7 What had passed for authentic portraits had frequently~obscured a more~brilliant reality. Because of the ~i+ailability of many such Studies~ it is also possible to see, in very rough outline certainly, but perhii~ps more clearly than be-fore, something of a c6ifirhon pattern' of'movi~ment marking these jour-neys that culminate in the foundation of ~ congregation. What we are lo6k-ing at is the historical realization of charisms, their taking on concrete form and incarnation in real people, real groups. I beliexie that there is a movem6nt'inv01ved which has a typical~ rhythm, one marked by dis-tinct phases or "moments." There is an initial moment of sear6h~iSt dis: cernment with regard to the'authenticity of the call tO move in the di~'ec-tion of commencing a project; there i~ a moment of definite ch6ice 'or decision; there is a rn'oment.of action and finally a moment of assessment or evaluation. The word "moment" could be misleading. While deci-sion or choice is always in itself a m~tter of a moment'whatever the prece-dents, the actual history of ]~oundations shows clearly that the other so-called moments can be a matter of a Io,ng time, many years even; or of a relatively short period. It'varies greatly from one founder or foundress to another but these moments as such are, I believe, discernible in their histories. Obviously these moments are0quite ordinary in the sense that th~ey represent the elements of any careful decision-making and action process; in that sense they are to be expected,. Our interest in,them, how- 166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 ever, is in how in fact they take on a distinctively "charismatic" char-acter, how they embody the "functional dynamics" of charism, how in this sense they. are utterly.di.,stinctive. . The moment of search or discernment is that period when the per-son begins to be aware of being called by God in a special way but as yet lacks assurance about this. They wonder, pray: seek counsel. Clearly there are instances where this moment stretched on for years, where the interval between the first intuition and the moment of decision was con-siderable. The time of search is followed by a moment of decision. The person now sets aside all doubts about their call and embraces the invitation of the Lord wholeheartedly and without reserve. Choice is made and com-plete commitment. One way that this new and profound option is mani-fested in the life of the person concerned i.s by an important change in their language. A confident assurance that their inspiration is from God, prev!ously absent, now marks their expression. What in other circum-stances might be regarded as simply pious phrases or even trite expres-sions take on a clear and undeniable authority and power. Such phrases as, "This is God's will" or "This is the will of ~Divine Providence" or "This is God's work" are now used in reference to their efforts. There is a new transparency of purpose; a clear~, simple and confident assurance marks their speech, as indeed a great courage,° freedom and enthusiasm marks their conduct, about the enterprise. These very quali-ties are, without doubt, key to their capacity to attract others to join them. The third moment is.the moment of actign, of doing the thing that they are called to do, gathering people together in a spirit of mission. The moment of decision and the moment of action are not the same. There c~an be instances where the decision has indeed been made but ac-tion is delayed. In the history of the foundation of my own congregation there is an example of the founder making a decision to commit himself to the project of foundation and then delaying to act on the decision. In the event he felt himself to be called to account by the Lord and repented of his delay. ~. The charism of founding a congregation comes to fruition and real-ity only when the group actually, exists and from,the beginning the un-folding of the project in fact will always involve the unforeseen and un-foreseeable. It may be better not to think of the charis.m of a founder as separated from fits realization in the original group. In a sense the foun-der or foundress must wait to 'see what God has wrought but there is ai- Charism as Empowerment / 167 ways an intuition and sense of what the new community must~be which is key to judgment on its development. While it is never a question of checking against a preexisting blueprint, there is a need to assess and to assure fidelity to the inspiration which called it into being. This moment has parti(ular significance for the founder and for the primitive commu-nity but it is a moment which must continue as long as the community endures. So indeed must all of these moments in their own way. They comprise the charism in action, the "dynamism proper to each religious family." What I wish to suggest now is that this same rhythm, these same mo-ments must continue to mark the "functional dynamics" of the charism as it exists and is exercised in a congregation. Mutuae Relationes (11) speaks of.the charism of the founders which ".hppears as 'an expe-rience of the Spirit' transmitted to their followers to be lived by them, to be preserved, deepened and constantly, developed in harmony with the Body of Christ continually in a process of growth." The charism enables" the group to search and discern what it must be and do, what must be its way of life and of pastoral action in response to the world in which it finds itselfand to do this with a certain perspective, a certain orienta-tion and point of view, a particular spirit. ~ The implication is that the group must actively.commit itself as a group to such search and discernment evdn as the founder or foundress did. It is a search by the group in such fashion that if must guard and foster that level of unity which alone makes corporate search possible. This search in turn deepens and strengthens the real unity of the group. A province, for example, needs to identify and tO sustain the processes and structures which make a group or corporate reflection and search pos-sible as a province in a stable rather than a merely elbisodic manner: Lead-ers need to'know how to promote and foster such processes of reflection and the structures they require. The charism of a group is riot "auto-matic" nor does it function in any magical way. It can remain virtually inoperative for want of sufficient cohesion within the group or for lack of sustained 6ommunal processes. The charism enables the group to search out what it must be and do and to what it must commit itself in the power of the Spirit, animated by precisely those attitudes and values which constitute the "content'" of the charism, meaning that particular Gospel orientation or accent which characterizes every charism. The grbup is enabled to make judgments which are inspired by the same spirit which animated the founding vision. More, they can experience a confi-dence in their capacity for authentic and profoundly religious newness 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 in their.:pastoral responses. As with the founder 9r f0undress, it is Jesus who in~,ites;.it is he who takes the init!ative.leading us in. service to the kingdom in,this time and this place. Nor is that initiative~depe_ndent on any spl.endid historic achievement b.y the congregation orieven on ;the measure of its present, resources: But process and structure are necess~ary. The processless,~ s~ructure!ess~co.ngregation or.province is a mirage, Which is not to say, ho.wever, that the processes and structures must.be t.his.or, that~type, an.d even less that there i~s only one acceptable _form. While the cultivation and sustenance of process and structure make~ par~ ticular demands on,!eadership, it is also one,area.where the real mean-i. ng o.f" membership"~_ is tested. Real living commitment, to the commu-nity demandsoand is .revealed in a real investment of time, energy and presence in. its pro.cesses and structur.e~. C, ommitm~nt ,to the,"spjrit of the. cgngregation. ," while h.a.ving no time for its. process.es, is commit-ment. to the dance w~hile disdaining the steps; it becomes increasingly, ethe-real. ~ ~. ¯ . ~., ~- .- .~ ~ Secondly,, the .charism enables a group to. make decisions and choices whic_h ar~e faithful expressions of the charism oitself. It is a.grace which leads to and-enables choices made for the sake of the kingd0m,and bear-ing the mark of a certain spirit and orientation. Some groups find it prac-tically impossible~ to make real decisi0.ns and diffiRult choices. People go through .the for.ms and moti0ns~of, decision-makin~g, 9t. chapte.rs ,for ex-a. rnple., only.to, discover in time that no real commitment had been gen-erated and that implementation is_ unlikely or impossi.ble.There had,been only the,~.utward app~earance.of dec.!sion. It is.not a questiQn of .bad faith but.of processes in, adequate to the challenge. Of eyoking commitment at deep level. One of the dynamic ':,fu.nctions" of charism is to empow~er and enable the group to truly choose and gen~uinelydecide; to risk, to surrender, .to be converted. At a time when all of our, congregation~.s.ar~e. confronted~ wit.h, chali,.en.ging choices of serious consequence,, this is, an area where we read.ily experience.both the neeod that, charism play its em-powering ¯ role and tha!0we be open. to .it. -The charism further enables the group,to act and to act corporately. This means that the charism enables in the.group that level of, shared per-ception and vision, of shared aspiration and intent, w, ithout which cor-porate choice and action are impossible. And it empower.s, apos.tolic 9c-tion. "Corporat.e action" js not a .question of everybody, doing the same thing but rather that the members.of t.he group act~by intent in .the~iight of a shared vision of, direction which can give uni.ty and .c.oherenceto quite varied _ministries. For example, a group .may-have achieved a Charism as.Empowerment / 1169 shared understanding of.what '.'evangelization" means in this particu, lar place and time and, though in the.service of that vision:the members. pursfie quite diverse ministries, they are aware that they pursuea com-mon goal,. On the contrary it can happen that people exercise th'e same ministry (even hll te~iching in the'same school; for example) withotit hav-ing any shared visionOf what, they are doing or even having quite 6p-posed perceptions of ~hat it is that.they are about. " ' ~ Finally the charism enables th~ "group to assess its decisions add choices~ i!,s orier~tati~ons and actions in terms of fidelity to th~ founding ifispiratio~i and ~esp~si.veness to current needs. I re~eat here without. ~ilab~ratii~n ~th~t all Of this does not happen aiatomatically. It demands susz' tained effd~t I~y the~r~tip p~ec.i~sely, as a group ~r~d it is ~,i~rtually !n~pos'- sible without having in pla.,Ce;oin a stable way, those processes and struc-tures which ~ak~e bngoin~or~orate rei'lection,~choice 'and'~actiofi the'nor-m'al way Of life of the group~.°These 'processes and structures will vary, greatly from gr6up~°to group depending on their h.~story and trad~tlon~s,. their niamb~rs, ~g~ographical dispersion, and so forth.- I must point Out that while i tiavetried in thi~ ~irticqb to k6ep the "c6n-tent'" of charism and°its' "dyna~aic functi~_.n" separate, in th'~ end this is, of cgurs6, impossible and it'seems more especially so now in these time's thah ever. The "functioning of a religious congregation ~s ~n-s'eparabl~ .from its id~n~ti.ty, 'fro~ the radical meaning of its ~li~;e in°the Chu~'~h "/~ffci just as the f'6under ~nd (o'undress discovered their v~ocation , . .~ ~,; ~ - _ , . ~ o , o "~ ~ . : . - and ~ts meamng and shaped what they d~d and how'they d~d ~t ~n the con-text df their envir6nment, so do we. A sh~arp aware~ness of the i'6ality of our world and of. our place in it is as much a par~ of out vocation's iri-" gredi~nts ~is it was that 6f our fo'u'fiders ~nd foundres'ses. And we have avail~ble to us by God;S gift~,inst~:uha'ents and r~6ans for awareness; for takir~ cri{icai dista~e and for critic~ii~nalysis whicl~ th'.ey did riot. Tti~se are means which can enhance our capacity for pt:ophEtic dis~ernmeni, choice and.action,, means~which are immeasurably deepened and sharp-ened by the charismatic gifts that root the life'of.the congregation. I~'wouli:l conclude with a brief comment on the relationship between the charism of a religious congregation and the place of the c6ngrega-tion in t~ local ChUrch. The first obedience owed by every religi6us ~con-gregati'oia tc~ tile Church isto be faithfully itself. As a ~ift' given by the Spirit io the Churcl~'a congi'~gati6n remaihs "useful" to the extent that it remains faithful to its charism. If it is authentic, this ~lways'r~eans deeper ~olidafity with the olife and' ministry of the Church.This deeper solidarity is not just a matter of rendering more services or of undiscrimi- 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 nated availability. Rather it is a matter of living and acting as a congre-gation in the Church more and more in virtue of the charism. "The re-ligious life is a state within the Church, not just in the sense that it op-erates within the Church, receives grace from the Church and is legally sanctioned by the Church, but in the sense that it shares in a.special way in the mystery of the Church, is one of her organs through which, the Chi~rch perfects her own life."8 The charism is the first medium of our solidarity with the Church as a congregation. And so we bring to the lo-cal Church, for example, not only ministers and services, but a particu-lar point of View, a particular capacity for discernment needed by the Church,~a. capacity for choices, actions~, assessments, illuminated by a definite Gospel inspiration. Solidarity with the Church, in turn, evokes and animates ih~e~charism of a congregation. A congregation can therefore be profoundly obedient to its charism and to the Church to the degree that it is integrated in the life of the Church. Where the local Church strives to be a Church which integrates all of its m~mbers in its life and mission, in its discernment and decision-making, it gre.atly facilitates the deepest obedience of religious congre-gations. Where the local Church integr.ates all of its members in a search for God's ,will for his Church, in choosing direction for its mission and in implementing, its decision~, in such a Church, the charism of the reli-gious congrega[ion, a gift given for the Church, will grow to full stat-ure. Such obedience must never be substituted by a mere rendering of services in an undisce,,rned way even---or especially when there is much regi~rd for service and little appreciation of the meaning of charism and of its role in the Church. I offer here a brief ~uote from Bishoia Stanley Schlarman of Dodge City. In January o~" thins year' I~e wrote a pastoral letter to his people in which he reflected on religious life in the light of the dialogue with the religious of his diocese. , Furthermpre because religious become even more skilled in searching out God's will together, they can initiate new ways of answering the needs of the times, even taking risks, when needed on behalf of the poor and oppressed . In the light of these reflections I want to invite each person in our dibc~san family into a Trinity experience of community through knbwl-edge and love, dialogue and respect, and the mutual s6pport of one an-other's vocation.9 For religious that is an invitation to charismatic life, dynamism and newness. Charism as Empowerment / 17'1 NOTES ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins, (New York: Paulist Press, 1986) p. 28. 2 For a very useful survey of writing on charism see M. Midali, "Contemporary Theo-logical Trends in The Charism of Religious Life: A Gift of the Spirit to Church and World" USG. (Rome, 1981). 3 j. M. R. Tillard, There Are Charisms and Charisms, trans. O. Prendergast, (Brus-sels, Lumen Vitae, 1977). '* lbid, p. 41 ft. 5 John M. Lozano, Life As Parable (New York: Paulist Press, 1986) p. 28. 6 j. M. R. Tillard, op. cit., p. 56. 7 Francis J. Maioney, Disciples and Prophets, (New York: Crossroad, 1986) pp. 161- 2. Maloney stresses especially the prophetic dimension of religious life and of the role of founders and foundresses. 8 Friedrich Wulf, Decree on the Ai~propriate Renewal of Religious Life: Commen-tary on'the Documents of Vatican II, Vol. !I (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968) pp. 669-70. 9 Bishop Stanley Schlarman, "Reflections on a Dialogue With Religious," Origins, March 5, 1987, pp. 669-70. ApostOlate of the Moment Frank Quinlivan, C.S.C. Father Quinlivan,is director of, his novitiate and,has served as a missionary. He may be addressed at Holy Cross Novitiate; P.O. Box 749;,Cascade, Colorado 80809. ~kctive religious life has a rootlessness to it. Religious are a truly pilgrim people. We move on. We are seldom anywhere long enough to put down deep and permanent roots. We enter.into the lives of others and they en-ter our lives, but we pass through each other's lives. It is not uncommon for us to long for more "normalcy" in our lives--what we see as some permanence and stability, a place to pitch our tent for more than a season, a set of relationships which endure. Min-istry today, however, seldom affords us this. Even those whose ministry allows them to be in one place for an ex-tended period of time still find a certain rootlessness because in our highly mobile and nuclear society the people ai'ound us move on. Hos-pitals and schools have a built-in turnover of people. Today urban par-ishes see a large and continuous flow of people in and out. The pace of change is rapid. Perhaps most disconcerting of all is to look back and see that we have left few, if any, permanent marks behind us. So many years and so much effort leave little to show. The things we began, the work we did has ceased to exist or else has been greatly altered. The lives we touched have moved on and changed. We quite literally "lose track." We enter into many lives. That is what ministry is. We enter into people's lives in significant ways. We are there in a special way, invited into the hearts and consciences of people in a moment of pain, of joy, of growth or healing. But where are those people now? Maybe we still get Christmas cards from a few of them. 172 Apostolate of the, Moment / 173 ¯ ' 'Did our ministry make a difference a long-term, lasting differefice? Sometimes we may know, but'usually we.don'-t., In-an effort to p¢ofessionalize our ministry we have learned to do a great deal of lo'ng-ran~e planning and goal setting, of clarification bf ob- ¯ jectives and intensive evaluations. Ou~: experience of ministry, however, is" often that we ehd up walking a path that we did not envision and through areas that w~ 'have not charted. We can take the tools of management and apply them to ministry. They cfin help; 15uttheir applicati6n is ne~r perfect. If we do not lobk at ministry~as often perhaps most often unexpected, unplann+d, mo-meritai'y ~ind without measurable long-term consequences, we will be building up gomething Which can 6nly be frustrated and frustrating. It is important that we see much of ministry as an ap.ostolate of the moment. We are here now in this place with this person and it has, made a difference at this time inthis iife and that is enough. Fieeting contacts between pe~pJe where something human happens, often unplanned and impo.s'sible to follow up on, are how the history of the kipgdom and of ministry are most often written. This pers~)n was min-istered to at this moment,, l,oved, served, ,forgiven, encourage~d. There was,, a pointof huma~n~ con, tact, a sharing, a totJ~hing,, ~eemingly not sig-nificant, nor planned and, perhaps, not even remembered, but,this was the building of the_ kingdom. We move through others' lives and they thro~ugh ours, often in a.jum-ble, but the.points of intersection and meeting are the way. We,do not know, where fully ninety percent of them are-now. It is enough that their Way and our way crossed. ~ When we have aplan, be it for our lives or for only the day; we tend. to get very upset by interruptions. The in,terruptions, perhaps, are what we are meant to be doing. As'ministers we~are meant to be interrupted. ~ This is not an argument against planning and evaluation, or against efforts to make ministers "more professional: It is an argument, however, fOrothe" need to realize that ministry'does not°often ,fit into these catego-ries. It ,is possible .for us, like so many people,, to so live and work in the past or in the future, that we fail to,understand the,importance of the present moment. Yet it is in this.very moment that ministry is done.:" Our very rootlessness, as disboncerting'as it can be for us, is a key factorin our ministry. It allox;vs us to be.present this moment, the time when ministry.is done. It allows us to'be true agents,of the kingdom which is built up by many cups of cold wate~ given~in Jesus? name., 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 The apostolate of the moment is tied to our definition of .success. The normal definition of success hinges on things which we can point to and count, marks left behind which are permanent and observable. Ministry affords us little of this. How are we to know that weare ~uccessful min-isters, ,when. we have so little to "show"? All of us have been to funerals in our community when an elderly religious is laid to rest. We can ihink:of the countless lives he or she has touched. We can think of the thousands of points of intersection where his or her life and works touched ~nother's. Yet when they die, other than the community, there is usually no one else there.~ Most of the peo-ple they ministered to, in those special moments, are not aware of their death, do not remember the moment of ministry, do not recall even their name. Success in ministry, in our apostolate of the moment, cannot be meas-ured by conventional standards of success. Lives, may hav~ been touched profoundly, deep change~ may have occurred, but our rootlessness will mean that we will often never even know this. Jesus speaks of salt and seeds and yeast: They "are little things, seem-ingly insignificant, that effect great works, u~ually unseen, transformed into something else, hidden from notice, known only if they are lack-ing. This is'~how the success of our apostolate of~the moment must be understood. Let us attempt to plan and .to evaluate, but let us also understand our apostolate of the moment. Each human life is God-given and precious, beyond all value. Each moment of each life is precious and invaluable. That we are there in this moment is tremendously important. If there be an enduring effect or long-range consequence, we may never know. It is enough simply that we were there at that moment. A final word. Jesus tells us that he is the vine and we are the branches. When we reflect on ~his and on our rootlessness, there is much to learn. A branch does not have rootsoof its own. Separated from the vine it will die, but it is rooted in and through the vine. What weexperi-ence as rootlessness is, in truth, deeply rooted in Jesus. All ministry is his. The branches may grow in all directions; but the vine ties them to-gether and ~provides them .with root and life. The branches are often pruned and cut back so that there may be new growth in new directions, but they are neveruproote.d or cut off from the vine entirely. Much of our ministry is momentary, but its significance is eternal. Jesus told us that even a cup of cold water, given in passing, was not without lasting, even eternal significance. Apos~tolate of"the Moment / 175 It is difficult ifor us to be content with an apostolate of the moment. It would be satisfying to be able to see enduring effect and accomplish-ment. Our planning actually accounts for little of what we end up doing and there is so little visible to evaluate. It is, in the end, a matter of deep faith that we will not show up empty-handed before the Lord, but rather loaded down with a great deal of fruit despite being so rootless. Thief You kissed me - a Child of five - and stole my heart away. You called me - a girl of fourteen - and became h~y "first love." You covenanted me - a young woman - and bound me to You, eternally. O, gentle Thief, never give me away, nor ever set rile free! Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. Valparaiso Community 140 Valparaiso Avenue Menlo Park, California 94025 Eoaluating General and Provincial Chapters Gerald A. A~buckle, s.M. Father Arbuckle continues to give workshops on "refounding" religious life and to write for this review. His "Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel" appeared in the May/June 1987 isSue. His permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box ~1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Come now, let us talk this over, says Yahweh (Is 1.'18). People differ about the effectiveness of general and provincial chapters they attend. In the evaluations of a general chapter held recently, par-ticipants varied in'their assessment. Some were thoroughly satisfied; oth-ers felt that it was a useless experience since ~participants were not.com-mitted to implement the chapter's mission statement and decisions. Oth-ers claimed the chapter ignored'realities, while some felt that they had been manipulated by well-organized groups. Who is right? Without some objective criteria to judge the chapter by, it is impossible to even begin to answer that~question. This article is an attempt to offer sonie ~ciological and faith criteria to help readers evaluate their chapters. It is not in, any way an exhaus-tive study on how to assess the effe~tiyeness of chapters. My aim sim-ply is to answer this question: Are there certain attitudes, ways of look-ing at the world, procedural methods,, and ideologies which hinder or facilitate the work of chapt6i's? I will concentrate on general chapters, but my comments will apply with only very minor adjustments to provincial chapters. To aid in ~y analysis I will list a selection of comments by participants of general chap-ters held from 1971 to 1985 and then use them as catalysts for my own 176 Evaluating Chapters /:177 evaluatiofi of,such gath6rings. Hopefully, readers will be able to iden-tify from their own experience with several of these comments and. then be helped by my .,a.ssessment. I will proceed by defining,the nature and aims of a general chapter; by recording various comments by participants of general chapters; and then by evaluating thes~,corfihaents in lighi 6f sociological and:faith, criteria. ', Aims ~f ~en~r~i,,c]t~pters ,.~ "; ~dd~lly,° 'a general chapter, "aft a ~'ign of unit~, in charity," ~ho~u.ld be "a moment of grace and of the action of the Hbly Spirit in an insti-tute. It should be a joyful, paschal,, and ecclesial'experience which bene-fits the institute itself and also the ,whole Church.-The,general chapter is meant to renew and protect the spiritual patrimony of the institute as well as elect the highest superior ahd councilors; conduct major, matters of business, and issue norms for the whole institute.''~ There are two key emphases in this. desc~ription: the apostolic .calls to w~tness h~r6 a'ntt now and to plan for the futur6. I ffill~expI~iin briefly what ~acl~ em a~is means. In order to ffitnes~ h'ere and now, 'ihe chapter is to I~ a faith experi-ence, a cooperative action of both the Holy Si~irit ~nd the" memb~i's of the chapter. It is to be to the.Church and to the,congregation a vivid com-munity expression of,g.osl~el°charity and joy;:.comm~union will .arise out of a pro~cess bf personal a~nd .corporate convers~ign. ~ , . In planning for the~future, t.he chapter is. to,c.a, II the congregation to be accountable to the ideals of the Gospel and its charism, praising crea-tive apostolic, initiatives' and correcting aberrations since the: last chap-ter. It should establish~policies that~ relate the congregation's-charism, ap-ostolic life, and personnel resources to the ever changing pastoral needs of the People of Gbd. It is to.elect,the,highes(officer and his or her~ as-sistants on the basis of their abiliti~e~ to4ead~and inspire ~the 6ongregation to conversion, to its faith-and-justice mission, and tb the implementation of the chapter's policies and decisions.~ It should, call p.a,~icipants to com-mit themselves to lead within the~pr~ovi~ces i'fi impl~m~i~ing thee policies and decrees of the chapter. The two calls'are" complementary. 0n~ m~st not e~i~t:without the other. If all the chapter does is to formulate polici.es for the coming years, it is no different.than a commercial board of directgr~ which meets to plan and choose its executive officers. If, on the other hand, the mem-bers believe that all they have to doAs pray and live in charity and thus fail to prepare theologically and in every,,other way necessary to make sound pastoral and religious-life policies,, ~then they gravely misunder- 178 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 stand the incarnational role of the apostolic Christian and so of their con-gregation; they are running away'from serious obligations, taking refuge in a false spirituality or supernaturalism (see Lk 6~46-49). Reflections on Reality Do chapters in fact realize this twofold.call? To help readers answer this question, ~ list some evaluative comments of the participants 0f sev-eral chapters; then I attempt to assess them in tile light of the ideals for cha~ters given above. i. "No outward conflicts, but~there was too much pressure for con-sensus .in all things. The time for divisions was over, we were told. The consensus just covered over deep divisions; I "and others became in-tensely angry because of this. The chapter was not a reconciling event that it is said to have been." 2. "The c~hapter was to be a time for dialogue, yet it was riddled with conflicts. Some group said they were out to bring reality into the chap-ter. They caused conflicts all the time, refusing to listen to contrary views. We agreed on nothing." 3. "I tried to raise the important initial-formation issue, but the emo-tional reaction and pressure of the group against it was so great that I had to drop it. I was marginalized for proposing a discussion. So we strug-gle in ignorance for. six mor6 years about formation." 4. "We had a good chapter, since we stressed the discernment pro-cess, downplayed debates and the study of reports on the congregation." 5. ~'I feel unhappy with our chapter. One national group effectively stopped the discernment process. 'We don't decide things by prayer! That's pre-Vatican pie.ty,' they said." 6. "Some participants held back from sha~ring their views until they had ihe right momeni for maximum impact; they would not listen to others. I thought they used their silence as power to manipulate us." 7. "People say that there sfiould never be conflicts, but only'consensus' on issues. This puzzles me. Perhaps disceinment might'help." 8. "I feel the chapter was an experience of grace. I did not feel the under-" ~urrent of ideological pressure groups, power movements, national/ cultural lobbying, that characterized our last chapter." Evaluating Chapters 9. "There was hardheaded debate, but a spirit of listening, openness to reports of the world we must be evangelizing, an experience 0f rec-onciliation and sisterhood. I believe there was a deep conversion to the Lord in all of us. Discernment, research, and prayerful preparation helped. Decisions are being now implemented." 10. "Every now and then our chapter made self-congratulatory expres-sions or decisions that were so unreal. You would think that the whole world was waiting on every word, yearning to be led by a dynamic con-gregation, well equipped for apostolic action. We wrote a mission state-ment,- but ignored priority of apostolic needs, the insights of theologi-cal e.xperts--anything, it seems, that would have embarrassed us to face the poverty of our spiritual and human resources. We had warm, comfort-ing liturgieS. It made people feel good. What a sad, escapist experi-ence!" I I. "'We wrote many documents, including a mission statement. We felt we had accomplished much because we did a lot of writing, but the real issue of conversion remains unconfronted." 12. "I was frightened by the repeated labeling of participants as 'right-ists' or 'leftists.' If you were classed as a leftist by one vocal group, there was nothing one could do wrong in the chap~ter. Groups, especially some national groups, spoke of 'winning or losing battles,' obviously rejoicing when rivals were 'conquered.' " 13. "It was a prayerful chapter. We got to the painful issues, and made good decisions. Now, several month~ later,participants are not inter-ested in doing anything about the decisions." 14. "Two sma!l, but vocal, groups struggled to dominate or manipu-late our chapter. One group wanted by force of law to restore the status quo, the opposite group wanted.change to be,imposed by law on all of us. Both were humorless, almost fanatical." Some of these comments are optimistic, but, overall, respondents are uneasy about the effectiveness of'their chapters. Given the frequent, un-critical 'use of such value~charged sociological terms as "conflict" and "consensus," I estimate that their unease is justified. I suspect that sev-eral chapters described by participants were insensitive to how power can be manipulated, sometimes by people with immense goodwill but with little knowledge of the social sciences, in ways that are quite contrary to gospel values. Review for Religious, March-April 1988 Because of the confusion that Can exist about how a culture or group functions?internally, a, confusion evideht in the comments listed, my task is now to, ex.plain the n'ature-and function of two popular models of so-cieties: the confliCt arid ~the consensus models; this will necessitate an analysis of the strengths and weaknesses'oUsociological models in gen-eral. Also, after showing how these two models can be misused w~hen applied to the'an, al.ysis of r~li~iOus~congregations., I,shali ~xialain the role of di~ce~'nment in m~k.ing'decisions. Models of Society , - A model, o~: ideal-type, analysis denotes a~particular and popular method of sociological investigation of society. An idea.! type i~ an "ex-aggerat! on',' .of cert,/in features which tend to be present in society; once the type is constructed by ttie researcher; ~i°concrete s'ittiation can then be better understood by means of comparison with the ideal type. For ex-ample, the researcher concludes that a particu, lar society is like, or di-verges from,~the ideal type in this or that way. Ideal-types have been con-structed, for example, of capitalism, communism, bureaucracy, and pre- Vatican II religiouscongregational governments.3 In summary, an ideal type has the following qualitieS: First, it is not "ideal" ir~ an ethical way. Secondly, it is rather "ideal" in a logical sense;it is freely d~signed by the researcher in an effort to better ~om-preh~ nd reality by isolating, accehtuating or emphgsi~ing, arid artiCulat-ing the elements of a recurrent social phenomenon (bureaucracy~ for ex-ample) into an internally consistent system of relationship. Thirdly, an ideal~type in no way em.b~.~ces all details of the~rea!ity; the aim, as opted, is to emphasize or highlight "significant" recurrent social phenomena. This means that various aspects of society are not included in the model because they do, not fit its Overall purpose or focus~ Hence, to get the best possible analysis of a social situation~, it would be.important to construct several ideal types for analytical use. The response can then be integrated to give a fuller picture of the sit'uation. ~ Fourthly, ideal types are not hypotheses; they are not falsified if they are not, fully substantiated in a particular situation or even,at all, but they are research aids in the building of hypotheses, Fifthly, ideal types gen~ erally are~really scientific refinements of~ common sense. ,For example, the fact!that people use,(even correctly) the two models we describe be-low (consensus and conflict models) does not necessarily mean,~they°are trained social scientists. It ma~, mean that they instinctively.feel, for.~what-ever~ reason~ comfortable, with the emphases that .the models describe~ Moreover, some models, such as the two we are to describe, have.~be~ Evaluating. ~hapters / 181 comepopular!zed in all l~inds of literature, so that the nonexpert" readily absorbs the language particular to the models ,and thus uses it in ways that may or may not be sociologically exact. Finally, an ideal type or model is not a caricature of reality. A cari-cature, when made of a person, consists of a graphic distortion of the s~a-lient points of his or her appearance or habitual costume so as to excite amusement oro.contempt; a caric,ature of a society or. group has the same deliberate distortion.An ideal type does not distort reality, but only high-lights particular details to facilitate a better knowledge of a situation. Of course, if an ideal type is ,wrongly, used, it can well become a caricature. Consensus and Conflict Models of Society Cooperation or Consensus and conflict are two basic processes of group life. Consensus is that general agreement in thought a~d feeling which~tends to l~roduce order where the~e was disorder. Conflictu~l'i'ela-tionships c~n be~=ategorized in terms of competition (mutually opposed efforts to obtain the sa~ne objectives), rivalry (conscious competition be-tween particular groups), or~conflict (the struggle over val~es and claims to scarce resources in which the aims of the opponents are to neutralize, injure, or eliminate their rivals). Two commonly used~ideai types have been constructed~ around'these two words: consensus and conflict (see Fig-ure ~1) 4 . Inthe cQnsensus model the.assumption is that people generally agre~e on values and norms; soqial life.is.basically.stable becausecooperatipn is rewarding.A spirit, of interdependenc,e pervades the society. Conflic-tual situations do ,emerge (~r~iters on this-model then tend to speak of "strained," "otense," "rival ".or, "competitive" relationships rather than "conflictual" o.nes), but they, do not threaten the dominant, consen-sus; .conflict resolutionS°in which equilibrium or harmooy 'i~ resto~r.ed, is achi.e~ed othr.~ugh trust :~n~ di,alogue and with ~'he aid of legitimate lead-ershi. p.,5 Maj.or social change comes very siowly and .depends on signifi-cantly large shifts in a~t.itud.e, and belief. The model therefore is conser-vative 'about change; many su~ggestions for chang~e are considered unre-alistic because people hold so firmly to their existing attitudes, vaiues~ and customs. ' In.the conflict model the key characteristic is the domination of some groups~by others, and actual or.potential conflict is at the heart of all so-cial relations. If~consensus exists-it is only a.facade. Behind this mask of.harmony the powerful, including ;the legitimate authorities, in order to maintain their-positions of .influence, manipulate or oppress othi~rs through the use of coercive power. ,Change comes about when existing 112 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 Key Points I. Basic qualities 2. Social life involves is essentially and depends on or produces 3. Leadership through 4. Social systems are and tend to Figure 1. Models of Society Consensus or Integration Model no'ms/values commitments cohesive consensus, solidarity,. reciprocity, coopera-tion, dialogue legitimate authority integrated remain Conflict or Coercion Model interests inducement and coercion divisive structured conflict, op-position, exclusion, and hostility power ¯malintegrated 9nd con-tain "contradictions" change conflictual situations are further exacerbated and new groups or individu-als emerge who manage to challenge the power structures in a confron-tational manner. Adversaries in conflicts generally judge the outcomes in terms of victories and defeats, wins or losses. In brief, at the heart of the conflict model is the assumption that conflict is the indispensable force in society. Ali relationships are coloreffby' it. The model empha-sizes the role of structures in society and how the powerful can use them to their advantage, and hence emphasiz,es'that change comes about through the alteration of structures through various forms of coercion. The roots of the conflict model go back to .people like Machiavelli and Hobbes. Karl Marx helped to refine the conflict model; conflict leads to revolutionary change rather than fi~aintenance of the system and, in the end, to what Marx claimed Would be a better society. His influence in the social sciences is considerable, though supporters tod~y do not nec-essarily agree with all that he said.6 Uses and Abuses of Models of Society As pointed out above, models are human constructs that articulate emphases in society. The models help us measure particular societies or cultures; enabling us to get a better understanding of their structures and dynamics. Most social scientists today would avoid adopting exclusively either the conflict or the consensus model; depending 9.n the nature of the particular group being studied, they would draw. on the.~trengths of Evaluating Chapters both models. Cultural anthropologists, whose task it is to study in depth a cultural situation, generally feel more comfortable with the consensus rather than the conflict model; they discover that people are more apt to resist change, often vigorously,~ because it threatens their critical need for cultural identity, security, and sense of belonging. People may adopt the jargon of the conflict model and yet remain at heart most unwilling to change. The process of facilitating change is more complex than the en-couragement of conflict; that may have quite the opposite effect. Abuses of the models occur inseveral ways. (A) One way is through the unscientific and exclusive application of one or other of the models to reality. People are then blinded to wider realities and values that may significantly influence the behavior of people. For example, as regards the mainline Filipino culture, it is .unwise to apply the cohsensus model exclusively, even though most key aspects of that model are evidently present. The emphasis is on the external maintenance of smooth, inter-personal, cohesive relationships and consensus in decision, making. If the enforcing of justice endangers harmony, then justice may have to be sac-i'ificed~ However, if theconsensus model is uncritically applied to the culture, it will not bring to light the intense conflictual anger and°resent-ment that can build up within individuals, for example because human rights are being ignored. A pointcan be reached when the anger cannot be contained, and it then breaks out with a feroc!ty and intensity that can stun the.unwary observer.7 On the other hand, the exclusive use of the conflict model blinds peo-ple to the existence of values, held in common and to the attitudinal re-sistance to change that generally exists at any level. The mere change of power structures, without attitudinal change or a chaiige of values, will lead to new forms of oppression. (B) Another abuse of the models occurs through the conscious or un-conscious desire to deny uncomfortable or embarrassing realities. There is the urge in all of us to deny awkward truths about ourselves or others, for if we acknowledged their existence we would have to do something about them. (C) A.-third abuse is the turning of either model into an ideology. By ideology I here mean (I am defining it in its pejorative sense) an action-oriented understanding of the person, of history, and of the world. The understanding is dramatic; the individual identifies ~vith it, is emotion-ally and totally gripped by it; one's :personal identity is constructed around the ideology and one accepts a role within the action drama. An ideology is apt to become for its adherents a dogmatic faith, blocking out 184 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 all challenge~ to it; people believe.,in it, then they~beheve in beliex;ing in'it.8 Ideologists readily use emotion-'ch~rged'labels.ofithemselves and others, for example; "libei-als, . conservatives," . ~ rightists,"~ "left-ists," o "radicals.",' An ideology is a caricature of an ideal type of soci-ety.~ My e.xperience'is that ideologists can,,~become so fanatically con-sumed by the rightness of their cause that. humor is beyond them, most certainly~,:t~he gift. of being~able to laugh at themselv.es.9 Ideologists are blinded to anything that threatens to undermi~n.e their assumptions. Take the conflict ideologlst. Situations and people are sim-plistically categorized, fo~xample, into '~pEre.ss~rs.and t.he oppressed, so that no gray ar,~e,a in the.a, nalys.is is. perm, itted. A.nyone who .~lares to doub! the analysi.s is lqgically (and emotively) assigned to the category "oppressor." ~0 Sigilarly, the consensus ideologist will not tolerate ai~y-thing~ but "harmony,," so that even ~enuine 90nflictual sitt]ations ar.e cov-ered over.~,,. Consensus/Conflict Model Analysis and'the Church Interest in the conflict perspective ih social'relations revived~ ht least in the Ehglish-speaking 'hations, in the. 1960s: In ~r~ceding decades, the dominant" sbc°ial-science theori~'s a~d:m0del~°d'eiaicted societie's~as founded and maintained o~ consensus ar~l ~ooperatiori. Howe~ier, the po-litical upheavals~ of th~ 1960s, 'botli domestic and international; focused attent~oh;ofi~)cial coffflicts and'~h6ir r~solution~ through ye~hlore con-flicts. For example, as concern for world poverty gi'6~v, people 6~ed the cbnflict rno~l~i to'better appreciate how pbwer (~conomic, l~olit'ical, and military) ~otild be i~ed to'impose unequal'exchanges which lead toga ~vorld system ina?ked by dependency arid pb~?erty. : : ~ ~ At the same time as the conflict"fia-6del was being revitalized and re-fined in the secular world, the Church began to ekperience the impact of'the incarnational and social-justice thrust of Vatican II.'Papal social documents 'and'synodal statements reflected,this trend. Proponents of lib-eratidn theolo~gy pointed'out that the philosophy of'cohsensus was being twisted, into an ideology in South America by the powerful minority to oppress the poor. Structural poverty must be tackled in order to briffg genu-ine relief. The.bishops~-'conference at Medellin in 1968 shocked partici-pants. into an awareness of this fact, and thereafter the small ~eed of lib: eration.theoiogy'sp~routed and grew rapidly. The documents of Medellin clearly show thd powerful influence of~the conflict-model in aiding the bishops to grasp the efiormity of the injustices being experienced by their people. On the wider intbrnational scene,.,Paul VI in his~landmark 197.1 document Octogesima Adveniens and in his Ef;ang~lii Ntintiandi (30-39) . Evaluating. Chapters o.f L975.and the bishops; 1971 ,synod on Justice in the World pinpointed ~he~caus.es of. world pox~erty in terms of the sgci.ological conflict model; but cle.arly rejecte.d ~both conflict and ,~consensus ideologies. , In the late 1970s there developed among concerned pastoral workers what became.known as Structural Analysis. This is a heightened criti-cal~ iselfrawareness of. .the wgys in which we c.an be. biase.d~ oLlimite.d in 9ur own thinking by our soqial, e.conom!c, cultural, or religious-life con-text. Advocacy, for the poor is a~critique of conservative-establishment power, domination, and wealth ideology. Identification with the poor and the oppressed is pictured as a "war waged on a more or less clearly iden-tifiable enem~,. The model is essehtially a conflict one where the promo-tion of a good ~s ,~nextrlcably hnked to a fight w~th a known adversary. ~ Unfprtunately, Structural'Analys~s, when it is used by tl~e amateur so-cial scientist, can r~adily t'~:n into a conflict~ ideology and'~hus"b~ the. cause of inj~Jst'ic~rather than an ~nstrument for its'removal. There are example~ of this in the evaluative coinment~ of genei'al ~ch~l~ters gi~,i~ri above. ' ~: :" " In summary, in the main Church documents that set out evangeliz, a, tion's preferentia! option for the poor: 1. The conflict/coercion/consensus models are used as ins, t.ruments of ~ocial/power ,analy.sis. 13 ,o 2. The limitations a,nd.~the dangers of misusiog the conflict mode!,in pa~rticular are pointed out: (.A) The,model cannot embrace theotransce_~n~ de.n,t; concern for just~ice mustoembrace the fullness of the ggspelme, s.- sage: "the prophetic~proc~l.amation of a herea.fter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both cofltin~uity and dis.cgntinuity with the present situation." 14 o~ ~ (B) The model must not be turned into a violence or conflict ideol-ogy;~ 5 "the action which,[the Church] sanctions is not the struggle of one~ class agai.nst an.other !n ord.er to eliminate the foe. She does not.pro~ ~ce.e.d from a mistaken acceptance of an alleged la~ of history: . . . The~ ~Chris.t~ian :wil~l always prefer the path of dia!ogue and joint action.' ,.~6 Nor should the conflict model be turned.into an °ideology that interprets the special option for the poor as embra~cing evaong.el.ically only;one section of the population: "This option excludes no one. This is whyothe Church cannot express this option by means of re.ducti.ve sociological and ideo-logical categories which would make this preference a partis.an choice and~ a.sourc~e of conflict." ~7 0 (C) Sociological models, 0.r ideologies that use these models, do not take into account the reality of sin; efforts at attitudinal or structural 11t6 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 change that ignore our proneness to sin are d6omed to failure. The urge to dominate or neutralize one's opponents, and the culpable escape from the realities of mortality, find their causes within our desire to deny God and replace him with gods of our own making.~8 (D) True dialogue between individuals or groups is not based on the ability to dominate, but on a spirituality of powerlessness born of char-ity; charity moves us to be open to others in order to respect and listen to them. 19 iE) E~vangelizers must watch lest they use the models in an amateur, but osten.sibly scientific~ way ~ manipulate and oppress people.2° 3. The~commitment to the social-justice apostolate must come out of a deep spiritual conv6rsion nourished by pra~yer. Prayer brings us to un-derstahd, how injustice is rooted in the sinfulness and selfishness of our hearts, it is prayer which calls on th~ Spirit to create within us both the courage and the love to bring about a conversion in people's hearts and the renewal of all structures of society.2~ Understanding Discernment "Discernment" is another frequently used term in the chapter com-ments noted ~bove. Discernment is a prayerful reflection on a human situ-ation in the light of faith. I must discover and root out all the attitudes, ignorance;, and prejudices that obstruct ~y ~penness to the Holy Spirit. Hence, I turn to whatever can hell~ me sharpen my grasp of truth--to the-ology, to social sciences, to discussion. But for discernment I need more than skilled human insights. I need the openness of a converting listener of the Lord. Discernment is not so much a skill as a presence with the Lord. It is being a Mary, "who sat down at the Lord's feet and listened to him speaking" (Lk 10:38). Father Thomas Green, S.J., points out that there are three presuppo-sitions of genuine discernment in the life of a Christian. First, discern-ment assumes that a person sincerely desires:to do what the Lord wants; secondly, this desire involves an openness to what God wants without reservations. Thirdly, the discerner must know the~ Lord in love, an ex-perienced intimate knowledge of God that a converted person has espe-cially through prayer. Discernment assumes conversion or the fact that the person has responded to God's grace and abandoned himself or her-self to the Lord. As Green says, "Discernment is.a function of a lov-ing, pe~rsonal relationship to the Lord. It can normally be only as deep and as solid as that relationship itself. The true discerner must be a pray-ing, loving person."22 Evaluating Chapters The presuppositions for communaLdiscernment are the logical exten-sion of the requirements for individual discernment.23 Every person of. the community must desire God's will; there must already be that open-nes, s, that intimate union of friendship in Christ. Without these qualities, communal'and individual discernment-remain human actions or tech-niques, not movements .in faith. Only'an individual or,group that has ex-perienced "that peace of God which is so much greater than we can un-derstand," and which ought to "guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus" (Ph 4:7), can identify what the Lord is asking. Discernment does not dispense with the need to use every human method possible--for exa~nple, sociological research, theological discus-sion-- to clarify the options that one must choos~ from. At tim6s this may require vigorous debate Or discussion. This is indispensable preparatory activity. To neglect it is to ekpect the Lord to work miracles, and'because of our laziness this he will not do. However, despite the perfection of our research, there are limits to our insights. We are relating to a God and Savior whose ways~ can be humanly inconceivable and unpredic.table; so, once the background material has been clarified, then we take it in a prayerful way, to the Lord and with him we contemplate the options. Evaluation of General ~Chapter Comments In view of the above explanation, many of the evaluative comments on several general chapters are not at all surprising. ShOrtly after the end of Vatican II, congregations initiated a series of provincial and general chapters of renewal aimed at updating legislation arid approving new con-stitutions. In the 1970s and 1980s the j.argon of ihe consensus, and espe-cially the conflict, mode~ls of analysis became increasingly popular and acceptable in secular and theological circles. Participants at congregaz tional chapters merely reflected ~hat was happening in the wider Church and society. Our formation p~ograms unfortunately had not adequat~ely prepared us in the social-gcience disciplines always to use sociologica~l or anthropological models with the needed professional caution. We have used sociological terminology, especially of the conflict model, but have frequently failed to grasp the technical ramifications of the language. In very recent years, as congregations have slipped more and more into the stage of chaos,24 religious have grown suspicious of the simplis-tic use of the conflict model and more aware of the attitudinal and spiri-tual dimensions needed i~ charige. Structural changes have not had the desired miraculous effect. Now the terms "consensus" and "discern-ment" are the "in" words though there is frequent confusion about their 188 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 meaning, as is evident in the following analysis of the chapter evalu- ¯ ations. Mis'use of tl~e Conflict Model (Reread Con~ments 2, 3, 5, ,,6, 12,~ 14) Delil~erately or otherwise~people coerced other participants. Com-ment 3 p,oints to an~,,atmosphere of subtle,.but effect!ve, coercion; the in-dividual feltemotionally pressured io withdrawoa mgtteroof considergble importance to the congregation~--initial formation. In comment 5 one na-tional group r~efuses to cooperate in the discernment process, so the only option ope.n is the ~use of power politics~ pressure grouping, wins and losses. In comment 6 some manipulate the group through orchestrated sile~nc,e.s; they will not risk shar!ng views~ntil they are in a positio,n to d~minate the g~roup with their own decisions. Christi.an mutuality.d~es np.t. ex!.s,t: In comment ~2 i.ndividuals are thor~ughgoin~g ideglogists; they openly proclaim that nothing will be done except through confhcts initi-ated by .them. MisUse~%f the Consensus Model (Comments 1, 7) In comment 1 participants Were using corisensus ideologically, though they may not have been aware of it. Obviously, they had experi-enced in the past the disruptive b,!tt, erness and failure of.the conflict ide-ology. and wanted to~ avoid it at all-costs., They the.n misunderstood the meaning of consensus. People of comment 7 are se~rc,hing to grasi~ the meaning of discernment. Misufider~.tanding of Discernn~ent (cpmments.4, 9, i3) Comment 9 ~vould suggest that a positive chapter was held; not so with .the chapters referred to in comr~efits 4 and 13. A l~'ey presupposi-tion in dis~ernmen(is, the willingness to do what God wants ~f us, no matter h~ow Oistastefql it may be. The fact that "nothingohas been d~)ne about th6 Chapter decrees" shows that this effective willingness was not present. ~, Escdpism/Denial (Comments V,~' 2,, 3;~ 4, 5, 6, 7) ~ . Ernest Becket claims that the root cause of human evil is that our "natural and inevital~ie .urge" is "to deny mortality and achieve a he-roic self-image."25 Discernment demands that we admit our mortality, our,absolute need~of God. This means f.acing ~up constantly to the reali-ties of our 'own sinfulness and our need to be dying to ourselves in order that we rise in Christ, This is painful. It attacks that which we so enjoy-- our .pride and~ self-sufficiency, ., ' ~ EvaluaiingChapters / t89 ~There are examples and hints of participants denying their own per- ,sonai and corporate mortality and thus avOiding reality, for example'; through the misuse.of conserisus and conflict models and the failure to have the openness to one another that.comes 6nly through the risk of faith. Power, as commonly understood in:the comments, is unilateral; that is, people are out to impose their influenc~ on others while cloging then~selves to the'insights of the'latter. RelationalpoWer is precisely the ability t~O listen to others as well as being available to influence the same people (see comments 2, 3).26 InSistence on conflict or c6nsensus at all costs overlooks, the fact that ultimately there can be nor worthwhile change unless it springs out of one's conversion to the Lord'~ his love, his meekness. Fine documents do not effect conversion (comment~l l')~. In response to.grace we must turn wholehe~rtedly to the Lord. No culture must ever be the norm for the Christian.-A cultu;e may or. ma3? not facilitate dialogue, but ultimately dialogue for tl~e Christian must=have its roots in faith and in imitation of Christ.'He is the exemplar of relational power, the power of mutuality and risk' in .~harity. He thtis teaches us what genuine dialogue means. Ponder how often he asks peo-pie wh~it, they wish of him. He does not tell them what hE thinks they need: "'What do ~,ou want me to do.for you?" he said to the blind man. "Master, let me see again'~' (Mk 10"51). Or take that in~ident~in which Jesus enters into dialogue with the Canaanite woman who persistently begs him to heal her daughter. She does not take no for an answer, and Jesus listens (Mr 15:21-28), just as he does with the Samar.!tan woman at the well and his perplexed follow+r.s on the rgad ,to Emmaus. Then the touching interchange on the cross itself, when Jesus in his agony listens and responds to the repentant thief. The ultimat~e~source of his gift of lis-tenir~ g is the divine/human e£change bf th( incarnation itself:"'Hi~ State was divine, yet he did not cling to his equa!ity with~God, but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave" (Ph' 2:6-7). Conclusion " Chapters are called to be witnesses of charity to the Church and to their own congregations and to apostolically relate their ~institutes to the needs of a changing world: In order to know these needs, "participants must break through the'barriers of their own pr6judices and ignbrance. An amateurish use of the social sciences, for exampl.e, through the mis-use, of sociological models of analysis, only iincrease~ these barriers. St. Paul was never a trained social scientist, but he had a shrewd in-sight into how people could misuse power. He detested those who sought to divide the Church into exclusive, conflictual, unlistening po~er blocks "191~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 that aimed to dominate one another--all in the name of Christ: "What could be~more unspiritual than your slogans, 'I am for Paul' and 'I am for Apollos'?" (1 Co 3:4), That approach, he insists, traps.people and deprives them of their freedom and openness to the Spirit; it. is a "sec-ondhand, empty, rational philosophy based on the principles of this world instead of on Christ;' (Col 2:8). Paul then is condemning ideologies, or any action-oriented beliefs, which claim to legitimize the domi~nation or manipulation of people. At root, "feuds. and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels, disagree-ments, factions . . . and similar things" are the fruit of "self-indul-gence," which "is the opposite of the Spirit, and the Spirit is totally agaipst such a thing" (Ga 5:20, 17). The sign of the converting, therefore listening, person or group is love, for "Love is always patient and kind; ~t is never jealous., never rude or selfish., not resentful . [It] delights in the truth; it is al-ways ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and .to endure whatever comes" (I Co 13:4-7). Such ~people will do all they can to discover God's will, for they take to heart the ever pressing invitation of the Lord: "Come now, let us talk this over, says Yahweh. Though.your sins are like scar-let, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool" (Is 1:18). NOTES t Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life, May 1981, par. 51. 2 See G. A. Arbuckle's Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, ! 986), pp. I 16- I 19. 3 See Max Weber, TheMeth~gdology of the Social Sciences (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1949), passim. 4'See P. S. Cohen, Modern Social Theory (London: Heinemann, 1968), p. 167. 5 See presentation of model by Talcott Parsons, The Social System (New York: The Free Press, 1949), passim. 6 See Steven Vago, Social Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1980), pp. 39-44. 7 For a Japanese parallel see lan Buruma, A Japanese Mirror: Heroes and Villains of Japanese Culture (London: Jonathan Cape, 1984), pp. 219ff. 8 See Antonio B. Lambino, "Ideology, Social Change and the Christian Con-science," in Loyola Papers, Manila, 1976, nn. 7/8, pp. I If. 9 See Arbuckle, StrategieS, pp. 67-87. t0 See insights by Renato A. Ocampo and Francisco F. Claver in Pulso, Institute on Church and Social Issues, Manila, voi. I, no. I (1984), pp. 7-16, 48-63. t t John L. Seymour, "Social Analysis and Pastoral Studies: A Critical Theological Assessment," in Pastoral Sciences, vol. 4 (1985), p. 58. Evaluating Chapters / 191 12 See Joe Holland and Peter Henriot, Social Analysis: Linking Faith and Justice (Ma-ryknolh Orbis, 1984); pp. 14-44. 13 See Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation, 22 March 1986, par. 42; also Donal Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Maryknoih Orbis, 1983), pp. 175,244- 250. 14 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975, par. 28. 15 Paul VI, Octogesima Adveniens, 1971, par. 28. 16 Instruction, op. cir., par. 77. ~7 lbid, par. 68. ~8 lbid, pars. 38, 39. ~9 lbid, pars. 55-57. 2o Octogesima Adveniens, pars. 38, 39. 21 Evangelii Nuntiandi, par. 15. 22 Weeds Among the Wheat: Discernment--Where Prayer and Action Meet (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984), p. 64. 23 See John Futrell, "Communal Discernment: Reflections on Experience" in Stud-ies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, vol. 4, no. 5 (1972), passim; and Brian P. Hall and Benjamin Tonna, God's Plans for Us: A Practical Strategy for Communal Discern-ment of Spirits (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), passim. 24 See Arbuckle, Strategies, pp. 23-66. 25 Escapefr~om Evil (New York: The Free Press, 1976), p. xvii. 26 See Evelyn Woodward, "Uses of Power in Community," in Human Develop-ment, vol. 4, no. 2 (1983), pp. 27-29. The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell~ Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The ,Relevance of Life Review tO the Vowed Life James J. Magee, D.S.W. ~ ~o' Doctor Magee has, done extensive research and consultative work in the j'ield of re-tirement programs for religious women~ His last article in these pages, "Confidants Help Older Religious with Life Review," appeared in the issue of March/April 1987., He may be addressed,at the College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. ¯, ~ ¯ , In response to the "graying" of their membership, many religious com-munities have begun to draw upon the reminiscences of their older mem-bers as a valued resource. Communities have sponsored groups to tape oral histories of the personalities, geographical sites, institutional crises, and developmental issues for which only the older members can give first-hand accounts. They have asked members whb are retired from their pri- ~ mary mini, str~!e~s~i'tg~.feiz.0.~d ~th.~zhaile~i'~es t,h~t iin~ar)'~.bly cbn.fro~t those who succeed them. Ttiey have, encouraged them, too,. to value the in- . creaseo ~nvo~vemento~n~4tte rewew that accompanies'aging:as occasions for healing memorie_s and di.sce~rning God's gracious intervention through-out their lives. Life review is a fo£m of reminisce.nce,~in whic,h persons recall long-forgotten incidents, dwell on them, and re6apture the emotions that origi-nally accompanied them, often while trying to convey these felt experi-ences to a listener. Thes'e.re~zollections are:usuhlly clear and vivid, ac-' companied by pleasant or uncomf6rtabl~ emotions varying in intensity. Life review increases dra~atie~ll~ in middle age and continues un-abated among older adult~':~In, life~re~,iew:ifii:li.vidfi~als reflect upon their personal history and accept responsibility for it. It is a process in which reviewers gradually r.ecpns~truct and assess their past, using their current 192 Life Review and the Vowed Life / 193 values to weigh behavior that memories progressively retum to conscious-ness. It focuses attention upon the connectedness of their: past with their current sense of themselves, evoking memories of formative experiences that influenced their personal development (Merriam, 1980). Life Review and the Daily Examen This description of life review overlaps several of the functions of the daily examen. A critical evaluation of life experiences with a goal of integrating them in an acceptance of oneself here and now is common to them both. Life review, however, is seldom a structured progression of memories. Usually it proceeds circuitously through reverie, reflection, dreams, diary or journal entries, correspondence, and storytelling. More significantly, life review enhances the fruitfulness of the daily examen by focusing upon the vowed lifestyle as a way of life that can release its members from compulsions that impede their self-actualiza-tion and intimacy with God. Like everyone who engages in life review, older religious become enmeshed in memories which join their own per-sonal history with the history of their family. They particularly recog-nize the ways in which they have mishandled in their own lives some is-sue( s) that they know various family members have mishandled over gen-erations. In a previous article in this journal (Magee, 1987), I indicated that these intergenerationai issues characteristically include the fol-lowing: WEALTH. (How much is enough? Who has access to it? What is sup-posed to be done with it?) HEALTH. (Use/avoidance of preventive and rehabilitative services, hy-pochondria, phobias) SEXUALITY. (Knowledgeability, scrupulosity, homophobia, premari-tal and extramarital activity) WORK. (Workaholism/inertia, process/product orientation) ANGER. (Forms of ex.pression, targets, repression, degrees of openness to resolving differences) RELIGION. (Freedom to participate/disaffiliate, questioning institutional teaching) AUTONOMY. (What decisions are mine to make? Where can I live? How often am I expected to contact kin?) These issues recur in families over generations because they have never been resolved. Instead of coping with them when they arise, fam-ily members react with a heightened anxiety which spurs demonstrations of denial, projection, and somatic symptoms. One authority refers to such issues as "islands of sensitivity" in a family. When family mem- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 bers even approach one of the "islands," no more than a particular kind of look, gesture, word, or tone of voice is needed to arouse an emotional explosion (Fogarty, 1977). ¯ Life Review and the Vowed Life How appropriate, then, that the lifestyle of living in community un-der vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience should lead religious to con-front the very issues which hold such intractable control over most peo-ple's lives. Texts concerning formative spirituality consistently em-phasize the inevitability of the vowed life engaging religious with their tenacious, problematic attitudes toward status, sexuality, and autonomy. It is to be .expected, then, that life review will elicit memories that reit-erate the difficulties religious had in observing their community's way of life precisely because that lifestyle addressed issues of exquisite sen-sitivity in their families. Consider the situation of a son who intervened between his parents who were estranged over any subject involving finances. The mother, in turn, invested in a compensatory relationship with her son, while the fa-ther maintained a deprecatory attitude toward him. The son rallied to-ward his mother, but experienced increasing anxiety over the intensity of their relationship. Later, after entering his religious community, he remained sensitized to expressions of anger, even disagreement. He was unable to resolve arguments, felt drawn to one member against another, and yet believed he must work everything out between them. Finally, he remained particularly scrupulous about observing the letter of his vowed poverty, and alert to any apparent laxity in the observance of other com-munity members. A second example concerns a woman religious who was raised in a patriarchal household in which daughters were assigned, without right of protest, the least challenging and most wearisome chores. Although she demonstrated exceptional organizational abilities in her community, she participated only reluctantly whenever her superior asked her to co-ordinate retreats conducted by a priest rather than by another woman re-ligious. In fact, whenever community liturgies involved several male cele-brants, she suffered symptoms severe enough to keep her from attending the services. A final example concerns a friar who grew up in a tradition-oriented family in which the eldest son for four consecutive generations had as-sumed direction of the family business. In this man's case, however, he entered his community even though he was the firstborn and had been christened with his great-grandfather's name. He maintains that his Life Review and the Vowed Life choice of vocation was the only discontinuity with his family of origin. For the family's entrepreneurial orientation and expectations for his as-gendancy continued throughout his life to compound his difficulties in sharing in the give-and-take exchange of community living and in ob-serving prescribed consultations with his superior. Life Review and Depression For most older religious, life review affirms their self-esteem as saved sinners, "in Christ, a new creation." Insight into the heritage of their family-based compulsions demystifies so much of their dysfunc-tional behavior. With faith, they see their frailties of character as graced opportunities "to boast of nothing but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." For a troubled minority, however, life review, like the examen it-self, can lead to depression instead of peace. For three groups, life re-view can precipitate a crisis of conscience and faith. One group consists of religious who "have consciously exercised the human capacity to in-jure others" and cannot imagine that they could be forgiven by those whom they have injured or by God (Butler, ! 963). They feel that no re-course exists to undo whatever harm they have inflicted. Often they ap-pear obsessed with a theme or event, discussing it with one listener after another. Somerset Maugham's (1959) observation about reminiscence is poignantly relevant to members of this group: "What makes old age hard to bear is not a failing of one's faculties, mental and physical, but the burden of one's memories." Members of the second group.are those charact.eroiogically arrogant and proud. They use life review not to appreciate the gratifications that their memories recall, but to accentuate that their accomplishments and sources of life satisfaction are now behind them. Moreover, because they have built their self-esteem upon recognition for their achievements and affiliations rather than on their inherent worth as human beings, they view aging as distancing them further from the bases for their self-worth. Life review may also lead to depression for a third group who have tended throughout their life cycle to live in the future. Their memories surface a lifetime of opportunities missed because they were focusing uport tomorrow rather than upon today. Feeling powerless to modify their future-orientation and seeing death as foreclosing further opportunities, they become disconsolate over a life that appears to them as wasted. These three groups are in crisis about their spiritual life and their men- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 tal health. Their depression requires professional mental health attention. Conclusion Increased investment in life review is a developmental attribute of aging. As members of religious communities age, life review becomes a more potent resource. It enhances the quality of the daily examen. It helps religious to understand lifelong difficulties they may have had with their vowed community lifestyle. Finally, it helps in identifying relig-ious who need mental health services as well as spiritual direction. REFERENCES Butler, R. (1963). The life review: An interpretation of reminiscence in the aged. Psychiatry, 26, p. 70. Fogarty, T. (1977). Fusion. The Family, 4(2), p. 56. Magee, J. (1987). Confidants help older religious with life review. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 46(2), p. 235. Maugham, S. (1959). Points of view. Garden City: Doubleday. Merriam, S. (1980). The concept and function of reminiscence: A review of the re-search. The Gerontologist, 20(5), pp. 604-609. The Cross Reconsidered William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan's last article, "Eucharistic Community of Disciples," appeared in the issue of November/December 1985. He continues to reside at the generalate of the Christian Brothers: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglianella, 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. History points to the virtual impossibility of maintaining balance between all the facets of the mystery of Christ, his person and his message. Theo-logical controversies over the centuries bear witness to this; current spiri-tual movements, as in the past, similarly offer testimony. ~ In the present day, emphasis on the Cross would appear to be one aspect of theology-spirituality that has receded in the light of other stresses, and a variety .of reasons could be adduced, not the least of which would be a reaction against some of the negativism in the past associated with the attention given= to the cru~ifixiofi in the Paschal Mystery and the insufficient ac-cent on the resurrection. Further, the broader view of the theology of crea-tion and incarnation has been seen .as necessary for a better appreciation of the basic concept of mission and our part in it today. It is not surprising that the recent extraordinary synod pointed to the need of recognizing "that in today's difficulties God wants us to teach more profoundly the value, importance, and :centrality of the cross of Je-sus Christ."2 These words assume a particular importance when we re-flect on the many kinds of life-struggles in our world and the areas need-ing redemption. What the synod said concerning teaching the Cross should not be restricted to ministerial actions toward others, for the mes-sage touches life and spirituality and needs to be integrated therein. But how a person approaches the centrality of the Cross in ministry as well as in personal life is very important, for there is need for integration as such. We cannot just let the. Cross remain outside ourselves as a reality 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1988 to be looked at. (While this may seem obvious, in fact, in our daily liv-ing we may well find ourselves looking at the Cross disinterestedly as an object.) The Cross is not simply a thing, static; rather it involves and expresses a relation of personal self-emptying love and total giving for us. Unless seen in that perspective, it will not touch us concretely and we will find much more comfort in concentrating on the Risen Jesus, avoiding the starkness and pain of the Cross. Touch us it must, for the Cross is at the core of Christian discipleship and reveals the mystery of divine love in the gift of the person of Christ, who invites us to follow him into the Paschal Mystery. Discipleship entails such a preferential love for Jesus as to demand that we go after him all the way into the mys-tery of his death-resurrection and not be deterred by lesser preoccupa-tions. The integration of the mystery of the Cross into our lives is inti-mately associated with the whole question of our human sinfulness and brokenness and how we own that as part of our lives. Often we would prefer not to look at that side of ourselves, since it can be discouraging and depressing. Some past approaches of spirituality urged people to re-flect on sin in such a way as to foster morbidity and gloom because of insufficient attention to the love of Jesus and that of the Father in send-ing him to humankind. As a result, instead of a deep spirit of sorrow for sin, a sense of guilt took its place, accompanied by feelings of shame, where the attention is at least unconsciously on self and not on God-- "I thought I was better than that." And then for many the next logical step is the loss of a meaningful sense of sin out of a flight from guilt and shame. No doubt, it can be frightening to see some aspects of ourselves, when at times we catch a glimpse of our dark side or it catches us by surprise; and we would prefer not to acknowledge to ourselves our sin-fulness, brokenness, and weakness. Yet a major factor in this reluctance may be how we look at this part of our lives. Do we view it separately in itself or in conjunction with the Cross and the healing power of God's love? Do we at the same time see God's power operative in the midst of our human frailty, using it as an occasion to break into our lives? A basic call is given to each of us to accept ourselves as we are if we are to grow to maturity. This includes acceptance of our dark side as well as the brightness of gifts, talents, and admirable qualities. However, the acceptance of one's sinfulness must be against the background of the re-ality of the Cross and divine love eager to lead us through our b~oken-ness towards wholeness, analogous to the felix culpa message proclaimed The Cross Reconsidered / 199 in the Exsultet of the Easter Vigil Service, We are not to cling to our sinfulness in a wrong way, trying to hide it from ourselves and from God, but let him use it and operate through it--sincerely believing that "for those who love God all things work together unto good" (Rm 8:28). A correlated sense of sin and of the Cross leads to greater convic-tion of need for, dependence on, and openness to the God who loves us in our weakness; simultaneously there is a breaking down of the exagger-ated kind of personal autonomy that lies at the root of so many personal and societal problems. And the human person gradually becomes steeped in the gratefulness to God that is the antithesis of the ingratitude of sin. Joyful dependence on God should overflow into a sense of dependence on others, enabling us to more intensely live Jesus' message of interde-pendeiace. We need each other, as we all need God and his redemptive love, because of our mutual brokenness and sinfulness. And in a very real way it can be said that God uses individual frailty as a means of be-coming a life-giving channel for others when we accept them and need them in their sinfulness. God ministers to them through us when we com-mune with them in our mutual need for healing and strength; and at the same time we receive God ministering to us. The Cross is not an isolated reality, for it extends to all aspects of individual and social life in touching what is most fundamental in hu-man nature. Each season of the liturgical year, while concentrating on one or other dimension of the mystery of salvation in Christ, must ulti-mately be viewed from the perspective of the Paschal Mystery. The Cross and resurrection are present in all of them even as they were pre-sent in the lifelong discipleship of Jesus. His self-emptying in following the will of the Father and seeking the Father's glory in all the phases of his life led to the culmination of kenosis in laying down his life. Any-one who would respond to Jesus' call of discipleship must necessarily make the same journey from self to the Father, and the Cross is inescap-able. We may~not like the manner of expression of the Imitation of Christ, but the message still holds true: The cross is always ready and everywhere waits for thee. Thou canst not escape it, whithersoever thou runnest; for whithersoever thou goest, thou carriest thyself with thee and shalt always find thyself. Turn thyself up-wards, or turn thyself downwards; turn thyself without or turn thyself within thee, and everywhere thou shalt find the cross.3 Various spiritualities in the past emphasi~.ed practices related to the Cross and some of them have been dropped. Perhaps this was wise and 900 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 even necessary because the devotions were not sufficiently well grounded for some people and even, in fact, became ends in themselves. Now may be the opportune time to take another look at the values these devotions and practices were meant to instill and deepen and to seek to reincorpo-rate them with new expressions and emphases, especially making a more explicit link to discipleship and our human brokenness. This could be help-ful in enabling us to perceive life and ministry struggles in terms of the Cross and drinking the cup (see Mt 20:22). Similarly opportune would be ongoing personal reflection on God's personal redemptive love for the individual--a truth that can never be deeply enough engraved on our hearts, a truth intellectually admitted but so often not interiorly believed such as to affect our lives. In the awareness of the pilgrimage of our lives, we need to see the already attained as having been reached in terms of God's love and the power of the Cross and the "not yet" element as something to be faced in the light of the same. Throughout the centuries the Cross has been a symbol of Christ, point-ing backward through history to the salvific event and at the same time forward with a prophetic call. It speaks to the world and to individuals about love, unlimited love, the love to which we are still challenged to-day: What I say to you is: offer no resistance to injury. When a person strikes you on the right cheek, turn and offer him the other. If anyone wants to go to law over your shirt, hand him your coat as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him two miles. Give tqthe man who begs from you. Do not turn your back on the borrower. You have heard the commandment, "You shall love your countryman but hate your enemy." My command to you is: love your enemies, pray for your persecutors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Fa-ther, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and unjust (Mt 5:39-45). The disciple of Christ, even in his/her sinfulness, is empowered to take up the challenge of Christ through the power of the Cross operative today and, in trying to witness to this love, will be living out the Pas-chal Mystery. How important it is that we seriously reconsider the Cross and its im-plications in our lives today, for it is so easy to forget or at least take it for granted. The Cross Reconsidered NOTES ~ See John Dalrymple, "Not Peace but the Sword," in The Way, January 1986, where the author indicates how some elements of charismatic spirituality tend to cloud over some disturbing aspects of Christ and his message. 2 L'Osservatore Romano, December 10, 1985, Documents section, Relatio Finalis D. 2. 3 Thomas a Kempis, My Imitation of Christ, Confraternity of the Precious Blood," Brooklyn, New York, 1954, p. 147. A Sister's Passing I watched the sunlight touch the corners of the sky and softly climb the hills, while you-- so still-- let the light fade in your room and quietly went.away to another mansion where mysteries are no more, and the Son-light never dims. I shall not question your going. R.LP. Sistei" Dorothy Clark, R.S.C.J. 2/6/85 Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. 140 Valparaiso Ave. Menlo Park, CA 94025 Advance Directives for Health Care: A Proposal for Priests and Religious Ruth Caspar, O.P., Ph.D. Sister Ruth, recently returned from a sabbatical devoted to research in bioethics, is a consultant in biomedical ethics along with being Professor and Chair of the De-partment of Philosophy at Ohio Dominican College; 1216 Sunbury Road; Colum-bus, Ohio 43219. The events surrounding the recent death of Monsignor.Thomas O'Brien will put clergy and members of religious congregations on notice that they should enact directives concerning their preferences regarding medi-cal treatment well in advance of the age of 83. ~ This was the age of Mon-signor O'Brien at the time of the severe stroke that left him paralyzed, unable to swallow and take nourishment, and incapable of speech. It was also the age of Brother Charles Fox when he suffered cardiac arrest and anoxia during routine surgery.2 In both cases, medical technology was available to sustain the lives of these patients, and in both cases persons close to them--friends who could have been expected to know their val-ues and preferences--sought the removal of these medical interventions. A review of the medical, legal, and ethical aspects of these cases, which differ in significant respects, will be instructive in providing a con-text for the discussion of Advance Directives "for members of the clergy and of refigious congregations. Brother Fox In the literature of bioethics, the case known in law as Eichner v. Dillon stands as one of the precedent-setting decisions regarding proxy consent authorizing termination of treatment for an adult incompetent pa-tient. 3 Father Philip K. Eichner, S.M., secured in that decision judicial 202 Health-Care Directives / 903 approval from the Appellate Court, Second Department, of New York State to remove respirator support from Brother Joseph Charles Fox, di-agnosed as suffering from "permanent or chronic vegetative coma." This petition had initially been approved by a trial court order, but was appealed by Nassau County District Attorney Denis Dillon. Both Father Eichner and Brother Fox were members of the Society of Mary, and both at that time belonged to the community at Chaminade High School in Mineola, N.Y. When Brother Fox entered Nassau Hos-pital for routine surgery for a hernia in October 1979, he had spent 66 of his 83 years as a Marianist Brother, the last ten of them in retirement at Chaminade, where his longtime friend Father Eichner served as relig-ious Superior and president of the high school. Their relationship, beyond that of friendship, was also established on the trust and respect that are part of the structure of religious community life under vows of obedi-ence. In 1953, Eichner had been a novice under the guidance of Brother Fox, then prefect of novices; in 1979 this role was reversed, and Fox lived and worked as a member of a community under the direction of Fa-ther Eichner. Why did this case make legal and bioethical history? Removal of a respirator from a patient in chronic vegetative state, with no hope of re-covery of cognitive functioning, is now fairly well supported in legal precedent and moral consensus; the debate in the courts and among bioethicists today focuses on the withdrawal of a further and more con-troversial intervention: tube feeding, which is at issue in the O'Brien case. But this was not the agenda in 1979 when Quinlan was foremost in the consciousness of the courts and the public as a result of media ex-posure. The Fox case was not finally resolved until March 31, 1981, when a decision of the New York Court of Appeals, highest court in that state, consolidating Eichner v. Dillon with Storar, upheld the decision of the lower court regarding Fox. It had opened on October 2, 1979, when Brother Fox, in relatively good health but advanced age, went in for sur-gery to correct a hernia he had suffered while gardening. In the course of the surgery he suffered cardiopulmonary arrest. Heart massage even-tually restored a heartbeat, but not before oxygen deprivation tothe brain had reduced Brother Fox to dependence on a respirator to sustain even the most basic ~of vital functions, with no hope of regaining conscious-ness. When this prognosis was confirmed by neurosurgeons, Father Eich-ner requested that the hospital remove the patient from interventions that 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 were clearly "extraordinary" under the well-articulated moral teaching of the Catholic Church. He was supported in this request by Brother Fox's nieces and nephews, all of whom concurred in this decision. More-over, Father Eichner and the provincial, Father Keenan, could report that they had heard Brother Fox express his preferences regarding the mat-ter. In discussions surrounding Quinlan he had said that he would not want to have his life prolonged by such extraordinary and artificial meas-ures, a conviction he reiterated immedi~ately prior to his own s.urgery. He had, however, no written document stating his position. When hospital officials refused, alleging both legal and moral qualms, Eichner was left with no alternative but to go to court if he wished to honor the known preferen.ces of his Marianist brother. He sought a court order appointing him as proxy for the incompetent patient with authority todecide whether life-sustaining equipment should be with-drawn. This was granted by the trial court on December 6, 1979 (Brother Fox had by now been in deep coma for two months); the order was im-mediately appealed by Dillon. Before the subsequent decision in favor of Eichner was rendered, Brother Fox died on January 24, 1980. Citing the far-reaching impact of the issues contested in the case, the Appellate Division proceeded with the case, announcing its decision two months later (Eichner v. Dillon, March 27, 1980). Dillon appealed once again, to the highest court in the state; once again Father Eichner's right as proxy to authorize the termi-n~ ition of treatment for Fox was upheld in the 1981 decision In re Storar. Though vindicated at every level of court review, the progress of the Fox case nevertheless incurred $20,000 in legal fees and over $80,000 in medi-cal costs. Monsignor O'Brien If the Fox case seems relatively clear and straightforward in spite of the difficulties encountered in its progress, that of Monsignor Thomas O'Brien, had it proceeded through court review, would have been a storm center. Nevertheless it presents an even stronger argument for a need for Advance Directives on the part of clergy and religious. Father Thomas O'Brien, ordained a priest for the archdiocese of New York, served over the many years of his priestly ministry at St. Paul's in Harlem, St. Anastasia's in the Bronx, and St. Malachy's, the "Ac-tor's Chapel," in Manhattan, where in retirement he held a position as Pastor Emeritus. He is described in the court record as "a lively, gre-garious loving man, an avid reader, a rapt conversationalist, and a good friend to the members of his parish."4 Health-Care Directives / 905 At the age of 83, he was severely disabled by a stroke suffered on May 25, 1986. As a result of the stroke~and subsequent paralysis, he was restricted in his movements, unable, initially, to swallow or take notir-ishment, and incapable of speech. In response to the medical emergency, a nasogastric tube was in-serted for the provision of nourishment. As the name suggests, these tubes are inserted through the nose and pass to the stomach. No consent form was required for this "noninvasive" intervention. Alth6ugh there was some difference of expert opinion about Father O'Brien's degree of competence, the record indicates that "he was not happy with the tube that was inserted and would have preferred to have it out." This he com-municated clearly by attempting to remove it fifteen times. At this point, hospital officials at Frances Shervier Home and Hos-pital in Riverdale, N.Y., petitioned the court for a conservator for pur-poses of consenting to the surgical insertion of a feeding-tube directly through the abdomen into the stomach: a gastrostomy.Such a procedure would allow the continued provision of life-sustaining nourishment with-out the irritation and discomfort associated with the nasogastric tube. It would also, from the perspective of the hospital, "buy time" for the reso-lution of the question bf competence. With the consent of a court-appointed guardian, "there being some conflict in psychiatric testimony.as to whether Msgr. O'Brien was or was not competent to make a decision as to the continuation of life-sustain-ing procedures," the surgery was performed on September 17, 1986. The issue, now that the stomach tube was in place, was whether it could be removed. To determine this, the court sought additional psychiatric testimony and heard the opinions of those most closely associated with the patient. There were no family members in a position to speak for Father O'Brien, nor had he personally authorized anyone to make decisions regarding his health care. No living will was available. One fellow priest is mentioned in the court record--the director of the residence where Father O'Brien livi~d--but he did not act as proxy decision-maker. The person who seemed to be best able to speak for the patient was a Iongtime friend who had initially requested removal ofthe NG tube. His opinion is noted in the record with respect ("His integrity and concern define what true friendship is all about"), but it was not held to be binding. Four psychiatrists, examining the patient who now had the stomach tube in place, found that he "was not so depressed or withdrawn as to render him incapable of making a rational decision affecting his life." 906 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 His method of communication, however, was limited to affirmative and negative responses which he communicated by squeezing the .hand of the speaker or nodding his head. In this way he indicated that he was not happy with the tube. He understood that it was necessary to sustain life. Did he want to live? No. Did he want to die? No. Hearing his testimony, Judge Greenfield found it necessary to visit the patient himself and to conduct his own assessment of competency and patient preference. Once again he found the evidence unclear and the mes-sages ambiguous, leading him to conclude that the court could not order the removal of the tube. "It will not order the discontinuance of a life-support mechanism without the clearest and most compelling indications from the person most directly involved. Whenever there is doubt, a court must opt for the affirmation of life." For some weeks after the insertion of the stomach tube, Monsignor O'Brien seemed to improve. Attorney for the Shervier Home, Thomas Ford, reported that he took some food orally, attended physical therapy, and prayed the rosary with his nurse.5 He died on December 8, 1986, three months after surgery for the gastrostomy. No further legal action was taken with respect to his case. Who Speaks for the Incompetent Priest or Religious? In the wake of~ Eichner v. Dillon major superiors of religious con-gregations in the United States commissioned a study of the legal issues surrounding treatment decisions in terminal illness, patient rights, and sur-rogate decision-making for their members. Prepared in 1983 by Mary Cos-grove Consentino, Esq., for the Leadership Conference of Women Re-ligious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (LCWR/CMSM), Health Care Decision Making for Incompetent Patients: Who Decides? provided an analysis of these issues, a review of rulings in the six states that had, at that time, acted on matters regarding who might decide whether life-sustaining equipment might be withheld from a terminally ill or permanently unconscious incompetent adult, and a set of recom-mendations for effecting surrogate decisi0n-making. Although this paper was not addressed specifically to clergy who are not members of religious institutes, many of its suggestions could be adapted for their use, and indeed for anyone contemplating the designa-tion of a proxy for health-care decisions. In the case of sisters, brothers, and priests who are members of religious communities, the analogy with the family offers strong support for the recognition of a fellow-member as the person best able to speak for an incompetent patient. Health-Care Directives / 207 Religious communities and dioceses will be concerned about these matters for a number of reasons. The individual person's rights of self-determination, privacy, and dignity in dying will be of paramount im-portance. In addition, there are legitimate concerns regarding the finan-cial costs of unnecessary and. futile treatment, the desire to avoid litiga-tion, and a need to clarify the roles of family and community members in decisions regarding medical treatment for priests .and religious sisters and brothers. The LCWR/CMSM paper recommends oral discussions--both for-mal and informal--as one means for bringing these concerns to the sur-face within a religious congregation. It had been this type of discussion that provided the occasion for Brother Fox to articulate his personal pref-erences regarding life-extending technology, remarks that were accepted as evidence by the courts. Increasingly, however, a more formal vehicle for the expression of directions concerning terminal care in the event of incompetency is advised. Referred to generically as Advance Directives, these may take the form of a living will or a durable power of attorney for health care. The living will is a directive executed by an individual while com-petent, specifying preferences concerning the types of treatment that one would wish in the event of incapacity. Typically these directives, antici-pating a condition of terminal illness and incompetency, request the with-holding of life-extending measures that would have the effect only of pro-longing the dying process. Durable powers of attorney are legal docu-ments authorizing an agent (the "attorney in fact") to make decisions on behalf of another person, even a~ter that person becomes incompe-tent (hence "durable" since traditional powers of attorney terminate with the incapacity of the principal). In each jurisdiction th'e binding force of living wills and durable pow-ers of attorney will depend on legislation (Natural Death Acts), compli-ance with statutory regulations, and the interpretation of the courts. As anyone familiar with the d~iily news will know, this is one of the most rapidly developing fields in medico-legal affairs. The LCWR/CMSM'pa-per reflects the state of the question on these matters only for ! 983 and must be updated. Highly recommended for this purpose is the recent publica~tion, A Mat-ter of Choice: Planning Ahead for Health Care Decisions, prepared in 1986 by attorney Barbara Mishkin for the U.S. Senate Special Commit-tee on Aging and distributed through the Special Projects Department of the American Association of Retired Persons.6 A Matter of Choice pro- 208 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 vides essential information that will greatly assist anyone contemplating the preparation of an Advance Directive for health care, as well as those charged with planning and implementing policy on these matters. Included in this report are the statutory provisions for the enactment of living wills in the 38 states that had legislated Natural Death Acts by September 1986, and a complete discussion of the durable power of at-torney, now recognized in all 50 states. Information regardingfamily con-sent statutes in the 17 states that have specific legislation regarding the rights of family members to make health-care decisions for incap.acitated adults is also provided, as are the provisions for making donations of bod-ily tissue or organs through the Uniform Anatomical Gift Act. Sample forms for living wills and durable powers of attorney are provided in an Appendix. The Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care There are some clear advantages of the DPA, making it preferable to a living will, and reflected in the recommendation and endorsement by the President's Commission for the Study of Ethical Problems in Medi-cine and Biomedical and Behavioral Research in 1983.7 As an Advance Directive it is more flexible and more personal: phy-sicians and others involved in health care will be interacting with a per-son who is cognizant of the actual condition of the patient, rather than with a document drafted at some time in the past. The agent, chosen by the patient with a view to being able to speak in his or her behalf, will be in a better position to authorize either continuation or termination of treatment, in consultation with physicians and others responsible for the patient's care. DPAs can be used in behalf of persons not terminally ill (someone with permanent loss of consciousness or with degenerative ill-ness) and can be drafted to authorize a variety of services. A further advantage over the living will is the fact that, with the leg-islation by the District of Columbia in January 1987, 50 states and the District now have DPA statutes. There is great variety among them, how-ever, and only the most recently enacted were designed explicitly for use in medical-treatment decisions. Since most were enacted primarily to authorize decisions regarding property, they are silent with regard to their possible use for health care. Increasingly, however, they are being rec-ommended for this purpose. Attorney Mishkin's report for the Senate Committee is optimistic regarding their application to this field: No court has ruled on the validity of powers of attorney in this context, however; therefore no one can say with absolute certainty that a power Health-Care Directives / 20~ of attorney for health care would be implemented by a court, if the ques-tion were posed. Nevertheless, since courts generally will accept clear and convincing evidence of a patient's wishes in matters concerning health care, the probability is high that a court would accept an incapaci-tated patient's designation of a proxy health care decision maker through a durable power of attorney.8 For members of religious congregations, the DPA seems best suited to one very important function: clarifying who may speak for the com-munity member when physicians and courts, in the absence of such a des-ignated proxy, may tend to assume that it would be next of kin. This is not to say that family members might not be involved in the consulta-tion, but that the designated spokesperson would be a member of the re-ligious institute. An Education Program for Priests and Religious In recent years many religious congregations, provinces, and dio-ceses in the U.S. have begun the process of widespread education of their members regarding these matters. In some instances these programs are well underway or nearing completion, with all members aware of their rights and responsibilities, in consultation with the legal, medical, and ethical expertise needed to facilitate the implementation of an effective policy. Others have just begun. The rapidly developing fields of biome-dical ethics and the law surrounding terminal care will assure that this will be an ongoing project for all groups. For those who have not yet fully considered these issues, a program for community education is sketched in broad outline. Whatever ap-proach is taken, the design should enabi~ members to come to g~:ips with the,major theological, ethical, legal, and medical questions raised by the new life-extending technologies. For members of communities under vow, these will be considered in the cohtext of congregational expecta-tions with respect to a common life, simplicity, and justice in the alloca-tion of resources. Theological Reflection Priests, brothers, and sisters who have chosen to live in dedicated service within the Roman Catholic Church will want to ground their re-flections on the long and well-articulated tradition of that Church regard-ing the sanctity of life, the ministry of healing and caring that defines Catholic health care, the redemptive role of pain and suffering, and the reality of human finitude and mortality. No document better summarizes 210 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 that tradition and addresses the pressing moral questions t~aised by new forms of treatment than the Vatican Declaration on Euthanasia.9 The 1980 Declaration, prepared by the Congregation for the Doc-trine of the Faith, carefully distinguishes the terminology used in the eutha-nasia debate: actions and omissions, intentions and consequences, ordi-nary and extraordinary means-~clarified in this document in terms of treat-ments offering "proportionate" or "disproportionate" burdens and bene-fits. Its principles are clear and offer realistic guidelines. While affirming the.sanctity of life and God's sovereignty, the Dec-laration speaks also of the unavoidability of death. Seen in the light bf faith, death provides entrance into eternal life. We may not hasten the hour of death through suicide or murder, but we are not required to sub-mit to treatment that "would only secure a precarious and burdensome prolongation of life, so long as normal care due to the sick person in simi-lar cases is not interrupted." Care-givers act conscientiously when they "administer the remedies that seem necessary or useful." Medical in-terventions that are normally optional, are those in which "the investment in instruments and personnel is disproportionate to the results foreseen" or" those that "impose on the patient strain or suffering out of propor-tion with the benefits which he or she may gain from such techniques." Some Catholic religious may be initially hesitant regarding the legiti-macy of enacting advance directives, having read of the opposition of their bishops to living wills. In this regard it will be important to clarify that the opposition of Conferences of Bishops to state legislation of cer-tain Natural Death Acts was directed at the legislation and not at an indi-vidual person's right of self-determination in writin~g such a directive. Foreseeing the rapid development of law (39 states now have such legis-lation), the National Conference of Bishops, through its Committee for Pro-Life Activities, issued on November 10, 1984, "Guidelines for Leg-islation On Life-Sustaining Treatment." ~0 These guidelines, reflecting the Vatican Declaration, propose "ways of respecting the moral principles ¯ . . as well as related concerns of the Church, whenever there is a de-bate on whether existing or proposed legislation adequately addresses the subject. ' ' The Catholic Health Association distributes a directive, the "Chris-tian Affirmation of Life: A Statement on Terminal Illness," that provide.s an opportunity for a person to state his or her wishes regarding treatment in terminal illness, in full compliance with the principles of the Church. ~ In states that have legislation regarding living wills, some, but not all, Health-Care Directives / 911 allow departures from the statutory form, and this document might be used as an alternative. Women and men whose lives have been lived in faith will also ap-proach sickness and death inspired by the same faith, identifying with Jesus in obedience to the call of the Father. They will appreciate the min-istry of their brothers and sisters who care for them in their illness, and will be concerned to act as responsibly with the resources of their com-munities in their illness as they have done in good health. Belief in res-urrection and eternal life places decisions regarding medical intervention within a faith-context. It will be inappropriate to deny death by insisting on medical interventions that are futile and that only prolong the dying process. Ethical Principles Ethical discussion of the issues raised by new developments in medi-cine and life-extending technologies, when addressed to a broader pub-lic than the Catholic community, is frequently framed in terms of cer-tain principles that must be honored and balanced in the delivery of good health care. Among the principles most central to this debate and to the matter of advance directives are these four: self-determination (or auton-omy), beneficence, justice, and fidelity. The principle of autonomy is derivative from a recognition of the in-herent dignity of the person as a free and self-determining individual. As such., competent adults have a right to control what will be done to them regarding medical treatment, and others have a responsibility to respect their reasonable wishes. This right holds, also, for previously competent adults who have indicated what their preferences would be in the event of incompetency andlor who have designated a proxy to make decisions for them. The full exercise of this right requires adequate disclosure of information--the risks and benefits of alternative procedures--as foun-dation for truly informed consent or refusal. The right to self-determination is not absolute and may be overrid-den in certain circumstances. Patients, thus, may expect that their pref-erences will be honored unless they are in conflict with "compelling state interest," the stated policies of the health-care facility, or the pro-fessional integrity of the care-givers (who are also persons with the right to self-determination). For the religious who has freely joined and re-mained as a member of a community guided by the teachings of the Catho-lic Church, choices will be further limited by fidelity to those teachings. The more extreme interpretations of autonomy assume a radical individu- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 alism that is contrary to the commitment that members of a voluntary com-munity have with respect to one another. The principle of beneficence, or patient benefit in this context, re-quires that one do good and avoid doing harm. The negative requirement (nonrrialeficence) is a more stringent duty than is the need to provide posi-tive benefit to improve the lot of the patient. In fact, these two aspects of o

This study is based on the twin exigencies of introducing the concept of abstract author into the scheme of narrative construction, and distinguishing sharply between this object of analysis and the concepts of concrete author and narrator. In accordance with the definition advanced by Wolf Schmid, whose vision on the issues of narrative instances appears most judicious, the abstract author ('der abstrakte Autor') can be defined as 'the principle that, in a work, determines the articulatory layer, the semantic layer, and the layer of the objectivity deployed, as well as the aesthetic organisation and the hierarchy of these layers in the total structure in one specific way' ('dasjenige Prinzip, das in einem Werk die sprachlautliche Schicht, die Bedeutungsschicht und die Schicht der dargestellten Gegenständlichkeiten sowie die ästhetische Organisation und Hierarchie dieser Schichten in der Gesamtstruktur so und nicht anders beschaffen sein lässt', Schmid 1973. S.24). More succinctly and generally, the abstract author (henceforth: AA) is the principle according to which the meaning of a literary work is constructed. If we wish to switch from phenomenological to structuralist terminology, we can define the AA as the construction principle of the paradigmatic elements of the work. Thus the AA is fundamentally distinguished from both the concrete author and from the narrator in whose name (voice) the story is being told – itself a creation of the AA. This means that the latter is not directly represented in the text, in view of the fact that it is a reconstructed virtual construction. Naturally, this aspect of the AA considerably complicates a study devoted to the reconstruction of various types of AAs as regards concrete literary texts (in our case, great Russian prose forms from the 1920s and 1930s) in view of the fact that it cannot be based on the principle of the reconstruction according to which the AA must be reconstructed. Taking into account that a) no single reconstruction principle could ever be exhaustively explained, and b) various interpretations of facts and motives are possible even within a single analytical doctrine, the final result of this kind of reconstruction will unavoidably contain fairly controversial or debatable aspects. In principle, a certain objectivity could be achieved by blending a large number of different analytical strategies in order to arrive at a reconstruction of the AA, but in view of the fact that this kind of undertaking is not able to be carried out within the framework of a dissertation project, one is obliged to accept a priori a certain sketchiness in the results obtained. As regards methodology, we considered it better to base our undertaking on a structuralistic approach. This does not mean, however, that we regard structuralism as a methodological panacea. Our choice was ultimately determined by the fact that the conclusions reached on the basis of structuralistic analysis are highly illustrative, in the sense that the mechanism of deduction can be represented in the form of logically unambiguous causality. At points where the conclusions of the structuralistic approach appeared to us to be incomplete representations of a work's meaning, we resorted to other approaches. In order to analyse texts from the period in question (the 1920s and 1930s) we applied an analysis model first presented by B. A. Uspensky, and subsequently elaborated by W. Schmid, albeit it with a few specifications, which will be discussed shortly. The Uspensky-Schmid model is based on the division and analysis of the narrative into five levels: spatial, temporal, phraseological, psychological and ideological. It is a rather economic and practical scheme which provides a thorough analysis. Our refinement refers only to the last, ideological, level. We recognize J. Lintvelt's view (Lintvelt 1981) which does not see this as a separate layer, basing his argument on its intertwining with other levels. However, W. Schmid insisted on its retention, indicating that it could also manifest itself independently of the other levels, namely, as a direct, explicit evaluation. In this case the ideological level is then a facultative phenomenon only functional in the narrative scheme of the text when there are explicit ideological utterances. We propose using an old definition of ideology set down by A. J. Greimas and J. Courtés, who, in Sémiotique. Dictionnaire raisonné de la théorie du langue (1979), define ideology as the syntagmatic aspect of the taxonomic concept of axiology. The acceptance of this definition brings with it a number of important consequences: 1) In view of the fact that the narrative text, a product of subjective consciousness, inevitably consists of axiologically meaningful relationships, the axiological level is an immanent element of every narrative text, independent of explicitly manifested ideological rhetoric. 2a) Regardless of its intertwining with the syntagmatics of other narrative levels, there is still the possibility of a paradigmatic reconstruction of the ideology, based on the axiomatics of these narrative levels. 2b) If the analysis of the other four levels is correctly executed, the ideology component will inevitably be the most concise, since it merely summarises all the conclusions that are drawn from analyses of the other levels and brings them into the required equilibrium. After all, to formulate it slightly differently, analysis means the exposure of the axiologically meaningful relationships that have been imposed on the text by the abstract author. Additionally, the mutual hierarchy of the narrative instances must be further determined, a specification one must consistently take into account as one reconstructs the AA. The point at issue here is the more detailed determination of the hierarchical dispositions of instances of abstract author and abstract reader due to Bely's death? Should Moscow be supplemented by the novel Petersburg by the same author because it is apparently symmetrical to Moscow? In that case, should we not also expand the notion of the analysed text to include the novel The silver dove, the first part of an unwritten trilogy of which the novel Petersburg is the second part, etc.? Such questions are allied to the concept of text itself and can arise in infinite shapes and quantities; it is clear that the AA's structure depends on how we respond to them. In our opinion the answers to such questions fall within the competency of the abstract reader who is, par excellence, sensitive to the literary work's nuances in meaning. For this reason we suggest representing the relationship between the abstract author and the abstract reader as an opposition between the principle to be reconstructed and the reconstructing principle, which presupposes a corresponding hierarchical disposition between both. Furthermore, more precision is needed with respect to the analytical methods used in this study. Taking into account the fact that, ideally, the perfectly accurate researcher should concur with the abstract reader, as outlined above, it is useful to call to mind the following aspects: a) the infinitely great competency of the abstract reader with regard to all intertextual connections of a given work and with regard to all meaningful connections, in all their variations, of the work with the extra-literary world – from social-political realia to the psychic circumstances of the concrete author. b) the infinite analytical flexibility of the abstract reader who uses the greatest possible quantity of analytical methods in his interpretative strategy, aiming at the most complete reconstruction of the AA. In view of the fact that, within the framework of a rather restricted study, it is not possible to present a more or less complete description of the AA of even a single work by means of the methodology of even a single analytical approach, it is advisable to limit the analysis to a single feature, albeit one that is shared by the majority of the chosen texts. This means we have mainly confined our efforts to the particular construction which governed the generation of the selected individual texts and which we could provisionally indicate as the abstract meta-author. We believe that the principle of negative anthropology, which – at least regarding Russian literature – was new in the first third of the twentieth century and which contains the denial or explicit 'denigration' of all manifestations of the specifically human, constitutes this kind of integral concept. We must emphasis that this concept – at least in its basic features – is not a twentieth-century invention. However, it does form a sharp contrast with literature of the nineteenth century imbued with humanism. For the analysis of this attitude, large-scale works of prose (novels, short stories) were chosen as the most representative for the 1920s and 1930s. The basis of the selection was the pursuit of maximum diversity with regard to ideology (in the narrowest sense of the word), genre and stylistics, and pragmatics. Taking their fundamental principles into account, the texts were chosen from the following literary movements or paradigms: (post)symbolism (Bely, Moscow), skaz (Klyèkov, Èertuxinskij balakir'), (post)modernism (Nabokov, The Gift), socialist realism (Gaidar, The Tale of the Military Secret). During the course of the analysis it became clear that the following two fundamental constructive principles that nourish the concept of negative anthropology could be identified in the above-mentioned texts. The essence of the matter is that W. Booth (Booth 1961) recognised the usefulness of designing a system of narrative hierarchy within communicative interaction. He defined a receptive side for each of the positions: in his scheme, the concrete author (Flesh-and-Blood Author) was correlated to the concrete reader (Fleshand- Blood Re-Creator), the narrator (or, in his terminology, Teller of This Story) was correlated to the fictive reader (Credulous Listener), and, finally, the abstract author (Implied Author) was correlated to the Postulated Reader, or the 'abstract reader', as Wolf Schmid would refer to him later. In Schmid's view, the abstract reader is the 'ideal recipient of the author', a definition with which we entirely agree. In our opinion, however, this does not apply to the phylogenetic constituent of this concept as Schmid tends to present it. In his view, the picture of the abstract reader seems to be determined in advance by the corresponding structural configurations of the work; in other words, it is a more or less passive communicative duplication of the AA. However, further examination indicates that in the reasoning in question the objectivity of the semantic configurations in the text is implicitly postulated; in other words, there is a presumption that the full (all-embracing) meaning of the work is not only given a priori but is also materially present in the text components themselves. In reality, however, the full meaning (and here we concur with W. Iser) is realised by the reader who fills in, as it were, the gaps in meaning intentionally or unintentionally embedded in the work by the author. In theory, there are an infinitely large number of such gaps and, correspondingly, every time a reader fills in a different number or group of gaps one can speak of a different structure of the total meaning of the work. Only God is capable of filling in all the gaps, making Him the most ideal recipient to figure in all models of narrative instances according to the communicative model. Nonetheless, we must also take into consideration the possibly less obvious fact that the text whose meaning is to be reconstructed in the analysis is not a protoplasmic entity but the product of certain conventions or analytic procedures. Both the conventions and the analytic procedures applied to the text belong to the competencies of the abstract reader. We shall explain this in more detail below. When dealing with, for example, Pushkin's novel Yevgeny Onegin, it is clear that the text itself provides no answer to the question whether this work has been completed. Our decision to regard this work as finished or unfinished affects its significance and, correspondingly, the picture of the AA. In our opinion, the instance of the abstract reader is responsible for the decision concerning the boundaries of the text; in other words, the decision to limit interpretative activity to eight chapters, or ten, or to state, as a matter of principle, that the work has only one boundary – a beginning. In each of these cases, the complete meaning of the work will have a different structure. The same argument can be applied with regard to varying editions of one and the same work. Consider the case of collected stories. How can one correctly determine this text's boundaries? Should we reconstruct each story's AA, so that something like a portrait gallery is created, or is it more sensible to regard a collection of stories as a single text and to reconstruct an integral AA on the basis of all the stories? Or, as in the case of the novel Moscow by Andrei Bely analysed in this dissertation: is it valid to regard the three sections of this work as separate texts – after all, they were published as separate books at different times, and the stylistic variations are evident? Is it valid to speak about an AA as a self-contained concept in view of the fact that the novel actually remained unfinished 1. Space destabilisation In view of the fact that it is only through history that man realises himself as an intrinsic integrity, he is most easily marginalised in the most unequivocal, i.e., most effective, way in a universe in which history in the usual sense of the term is seriously problematised by spatio-temporal ambivalence. The spatio-temporal continuum evaporates in this set-up, which may manifest itself in various ways but essentially involves the same mechanism. In some texts, normally seen as belonging to the modernistic paradigms (in our case, Moscow, Èertuxinskij balakir', The Gift), a destabilisation of the normal world view has occurred and this is more or less evident to the reader: the attributes of a certain point in space can easily belong to a different point, just as the attributes of a certain object can turn out to be the attributes of a different object. One spatial area can be projected upon a different spatial area, and, in such cases, the boundaries between the areas become so transparent that distinction between them is no longer possible. All objects and points in this kind of space enter, as it were, into relationships of mutual equivalence, or if we regard it in semiotic terms, all objects enter into relationships of crosswise reference without having an unambiguously phraseable singular denotation. Another way to destabilise space, however paradoxical it may sound, is by structuring space by means of mythopoetic patterns. We believe that mythopoetic structures occur in every narrative text, which seems largely self-evident. In view of the fact that in narrative texts we deal with subjectivity pur sang, it is perfectly logical that this subjectivity will lend varying axiological colour to the different segments of space. In conjunction with our cognitive schemes, i.e., the structure of our brains, this colour is generated according to the principle of binary opposition. In this way each narrative space has an axiological marking on the basis of duality (high-low, here-there, citycountry, etc.), for which in historical terms the priority lies with the myth as the first (spontaneous) project in human history to be given structure. The issue is merely one concerning the extent to which this mythopoetic – or as one may prefer, quasimythopoetic – scheme becomes manifest, and even the rather confined analysis we have performed demonstrates that this is largely the situation in Russian prose of the 1920s and 1930s. It is understandable that in both cases space destabilisation results in the elimination of the human subject. In the former case, when space is characterised by a high degree of relativity, man adopts in a metonymic way space's capacity to undergo all kinds of metamorphoses whose degree of radicalness can vary: from the possibility of metempsychosis, as in the case of the reincarnated protagonists in Nabokov's The Gift, to the division of protagonists in a synchronous system of look-alikes, of which each one has a role in the distinction of meaning and which only begin to acquire consolidated meaning when they have been conceptually united (cf. the Korobkin brothers, Mandro – Dromarden, Lizaša – Leonora, and Kierko – Titelev in Moscow; Ul'jana – Maria in Èertuxinskij balakir'; the whole herd of doubles in The Gift). In the latter case, when space has been structured according to the myth, for a number of reasons man is also eliminated: a) man, as we know him, necessarily realises himself in history (only God realises himself in infinity), whereas myth knows no linearity and therefore no history. Thus only a certain notion of man or a model of subjectivity can possibly realise itself in myth, but not man as such b) the concept of realisation itself (of man or of other objects that occupy mythical space) is weakened here by virtue of the fact that determinism rules in myth – a genuine paradigmatic formation – which substantially weakens the independence and the responsibility of the protagonists somehow engaged in realising themselves c) which also directly combines points a) and b): myth, which does not recognise the singularity of here and now, does not accommodate the aspect of subjectivity, which is a constitutive element of man (and without this relationship, there can be no subjectivity). 2. Theatricalisation of narrative space An important factor in the construction of the great narrative forms of this period is the theatricalisation of space: in some cases the accent is placed on an analogous segmentation of space (Gaidar) when, for example, the entire adventurous part of the narrative is linked to a concrete topos, while the lyrical part, as a whole, is connected to another area, etc.; in other words, the narrative space, just as in theatre space, is divided into semiologically clearly delineated segments. In other cases the theatricalisation can be achieved by assigning purely dramatic characteristics to the protagonists. In this latter case there is a strikingly varied list of procedures that can be applied to create a 'theatrical text' in which the majority of the protagonists, or even all of them, are assigned a role. The most prominent technique is the construction of a character on the basis of a marionette or automatic dummy (Bely) with the corresponding imitation of its expressiveness and speech which become isomorphous with the discrete, emphatically affected expressiveness of a doll, where the character disintegrates into disassociated sememes and is only held together by the context. In such cases, to emphasise the artificiality a complicated, deviating syntax and an extremely extensive vocabulary of occasionalisms is employed. A less conspicuous strategy (as in Gaidar and also in many social-realist authors of the 1920s and 1930s) consists of a return to the constructive configurations of pre-realistic theatre in which the only possible actors are masks or, to use a more recent term, types, whose dynamics are determined entirely by fable and not by any intrinsic structure or stratification of character. Each of them has an ontologically determined role (of course, this concerns only the ontology of that specific space) and the mode of existence here is such that there are no a priori opportunities to switch roles; this space simply does not enable this kind of transformation. A strictly natural effect of this type of situation is the extremely normative behaviour of the characters in both their actions and their verbal expressions. Another method of desecrating narrative space is rooted in the symbolistic paradigm (or to be more precise, in the paradigm of early Russian symbolism) which is typified by the representation of this world as a close-knit semiotic universe whose characters refer to a supratextual substance that governs this world. A consequence of this worldview is the acceptance of fairly strict definitions of determinism and its unavoidable companion destiny. The concept of destiny assumes a certain marked role for each of the characters; after all, a complete behavioural paradigm (as regards destiny) can be created for a (marked) role, whereas this is impossible for the vital realisation of a person in his existence: in this latter case only the syntagmatic logical coherence can be determined, and that coherence is incomplete by definition. The narrative in The Gift (as in several other of Nabokov's novels) is constructed in this way, i.e., in functional-behavioural terms of destiny. This is also the case in Èertuxinskij balakir' by Klyèkov, in which the centre of the narrative is occupied by a kind of minus type: a character that not only lacks psychology (in as much as this kind of reduction is possible for humans), but also every manifestation of his own will which could testify to even an illusory independence from the functional universe. We must consider that a person's dramatic accessories (e.g., a person on stage) are essentially emancipated from existence and as a result revealingly attest to the nature of the processes that eliminate humans from the prose of the era. The observation of AA structures in 1920s and 1930s Russian prose thus offers the opportunity to bring to light a collection of these texts' implicit features, which manifest themselves in the first third of the twentieth century and which consequently enabled radical qualitative change in the entire structure of Russian prose. If executed with sufficient accuracy, the reconstruction of AAs in works from different periods can offer new insight into the history of literature. In more precise terms, it can open a new history of literature, a history engaged in the diachronous modification of the models according to which creative texts are generated at a certain points in time.

Issue 42.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1983. ; Trends and Issues in Spirituality, 1983 The Service of Religious Authority Negative Feelings--Positive Growth Volume 42 Number 2 March/April, ~983 R~v~J~w t:OR Rt~l.~(;~otJs I ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. RJ~v~!v,' t:o~ R~qt.~(;IotJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. I.ouis. MO. © 1983 by R~v~t~w FOR Rt-zl.~t;Iot~s. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year Ipostage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl.:v~l.:w ~'oR R~:u(;tot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1983 Volume 42 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REv~v:w I,oR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl Io Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; Cily Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from Universily Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbur, MI 48106. Priorities for Religious Pio Laghi Archbishop Laghi is Apostolic Delegate to t~ae United States. His delegation is located at 3339 Massachusetts Ave., N.W.: Washington, DC 20008. This article is the text of his homily at the joint meeting of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, held last August in San Francisco. With great personal interest I have been looking forward to this opportun-ity to lead you in eucharistic prayer and to reflect upon priorities for specially consecrated members of the Christian community. Today's readings provide an indispensable framework for this reflection. While they speak of priorities essential to any form of Christian life, they tell us in.a special way of the priorities of religious life: to respond wholeheartedly to God's call; and to respond by word and witness, equally without reservation, to the pressing hunger--the "famine"---for God's word which is as real today as in the time of Amos. Total Includes Permanent Religious !ife is essentially a total gift of self to the plan of God and to the service of his love, so that it is properly called a total "consecration." You know this well, but you know also that your commitment is renewed and strengthened by reflecting constantly on its meaning. What, then, do we mean by this total consecration which is sealed by religious vows? Everything great is final. All life-determining commitments are irrevocable. Not because they cannot be taken back (plainly they can) but because, making such commitments, we define ourselves as persons and so establish the parameters of success and failure, of generosity and selfishness, not merely for our lives but for our very selves. One of the worst aberrations of our times is the idea that one can be a religious--or a priest or a spouse--for a time. This is the very denial of the gift. 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 Those who adopt this attitude lend themselves but they do not give themselves. "What is essential in the religious vow," says Father Danielou, "is precisely that, by a definitive commitment, you are expressing this profound desire of being totally in the service of God in regard to all the eventualities of radical doubt, of questioning, and of temptation." One might say that in totally handing over his or her life to God, the religious makes with him a permanent bridge, a stable pact, a perpetual alliance. Total Includes Detachment and Attachment The words of Jesus make it clear that this total gift of self involves a two-fold movement: first, setting aside--detaching oneself from--whatever is an obstacle to the girl; second, a continuing act of positive response to the invitation--"Come back and follow me." The rich young man balked at the first step; many do. But it is possible to take this step, yet hang back from the second--"Come back and follow me." It is a permanent challenge for each religious, as for each priest and each Christian, always to renew in the context of daily life this determination to entrust one's destiny and one's self totally to God. Pride hinders us, but there is a more subtle hindrance than pride: the belief, of which we may not b'e fully conscious, that our own insight and discernment are superior--because seemingly more efficacious or even more virtuous--to the imperatives of Christ's summons as mediated to us through the particular way of life to which he has called us. Beyond detachment, one might say, lies abandonment. To take the first step but not the second is to travel only part of the way God wishes us to go. Religious Life as Witness Another fundamental point:the first function of religious life is to wit-ness- Znot to what men and women are capable of, but to what God is capable of. There are many ways of expressing this. Pope Paul Vl, in Evangelii Nunti-andi, put it with special beauty: All evangelizers--and therefore all religious-- he says, are called to be servants of the truth, not merely by speaking of abstract intellectual truth, but.by living and witnessing to God and the things of God "as if they could see the invisible" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 76). How else, in times of spiritual famine, shall we respond to that hunger of which Amos speaks, the "famine. for hearing the word of the Lord"?. One cannot give what one does not have. "At the deepest level of their being," Pope Paul tells us, "[religious] are caught up in the dynamism of the Church's life, which is ~'hirsty for the divine Absolute and called to holiness. It is to this holiness that they bear witness" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Men and women are capable of much that is admirable: of courage and generosity, for example. But what is unique to sanctitY--and to religious life in its role of giving witness--is that it is not the work of men and women, but of the Spirit of God. Sanctity is not humanity at a high level of excellence. It is a radical leap, nothing less than our participation in divine life. Because it is not Priorities for Religious / 163 humanly ostentatious, it speaks all the more powerfully. "Being a challenge to the world and to the Church herself," Pope Paul remarks, "this silent witness of poverty and abnegation, of purity and sincerity, of self-sacrifice in obe-dience, can become an eloquent witness" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Priorities for Religious It is a joy for me to verify the presence and the dynamic activity of so many religious, men and women, in this country--all together about 160,000. They dedicate their lives, not for a time but forever, to God and to the People of God. They are "authentic witnesses of the Gospel," irreplaceable "workers" of evangelization, the most powerful "sign of total availability to God, to the Church, and to the brethren" (Evangelii Nuntiandi, 69). Prayer Among the priorities that 1 see for religious in this country, then, is the effort to ensure that prayer is an attitude toward life, so that prayer and life mutually enrich each other. This implies that prayer will lead religious to involve themselves in real life, while real-life experiences call .for intense moments of prayer. Today, as we know, along with the necessary quest for personal prayer, there is a strong concern for community prayer, for sharing one's experience of the faith, growing in one's insight into the evangelical imperatives dictated by one's circumstances, applying the events of the history of salvation, as related in Scripture, to the events of today. How important, too, that religious remain faithful to the sacramental life in its totality. There is no religious life--as there is no sanctity--apart from the Eucharist. Religious life is the expan.sion, the living out, of those energies which the Eucharist develops and nourishes in us. Our prayer must further-more be, visible and a source of encouragement to others; and this is possible through the liturgy, well prepared, well conducted, and well shared. The Social Dimension Another priority arises from awareness that the message we profess and communicate has not only a theological dimension but a social dimension. We preach a Gospel which frees men and women from sin in its roots and manifes-tations. We therefore preach and promote the human dignity and divine filiation of every human being. Preferential Option for the Poor This points to still another priority: the preferential option for the poor. Today religious increasingly find themselves in difficult, marginalized situa-tions: caring for the sick, helping those in need, promoting the rights of victims of discrimination, carrying on humble and self-sacrificing labors of many kinds. This option does not imply thb exclusion of anyone--the spiritual 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 poverty of our contemporary counterparts of the rich young man makes that clear--but it does call for a preference for the oppressed and victimized, and a constant effort to draw closer to them. This preferential option has led religious, and not only religious, to reex-amine traditional works in order to respond better to the requirements of evangelization. It has also shed a clearer light on the relationship between religious life and the poverty of the dispossessed. Beyond interior detachment and community austerity, it implies solidarity with the poor, often expressed by sharing wi~h them their conditions of life. At the same time, while adhering to this option, it is necessary to avoid certain dangers--a lack of adequate preparation, a lack of personal maturity, or a lack of evangelical motivation. At the very least these can imperil the preferential option by causing it to be misinterpreted. Hispanic Involvement There is another priority about which I also feel strongly. It concerns the presence, already substantial and rapidly growing, of so many Hispanics in the United States--their large number (almost twenty-five percent of our Cathol-ics), their religious and human values, their need for full acceptance in the Church and society. In their recent joint pastoral letter, th~ Hispanic bishops of the United States spoke of the "constant rejection" which has been "part of [the] daily life" of their people. Nevertheless, they said, "our parents taught us to love the United ~tates, although the struggle has been difficult. Our people have always struggled to improve themselves. We love the peace founded on truth, justice, love and freedom . We have not taken up arms against our country but instead have defended it. We have fought to eliminate the injusti-ces that rule our lives. The road has been long and difficult, littered with many obstacles, but we have made progress and will continue ahead with firmness and determination" ( The Bishops Speak with the Virgin: A Pastoral Letter of the Hispanic Bishops of the U.S., 1982). Yet, in the words of a Spanish-speak-ing priest of Texas, "there is a certain tendency to look upon the Hispanics as an unavoidable problem. But rejoice and appreciate us. as God's life-bear-ing gift, not only for the enrichment but even for the salvation of our Church and of our world." I recall something T.S. Eliot once said: No one is truly educated unless he or she knows a second language. These are wise words. Only then can one know what it means to be laughed at as one gropes for the right word or stumbles over its pronunciation. Truly, to know another language--in this case, Spanish--is to work for the coming of the kingdom of God and for the service of our brothers and sisters. Integration of Religious into Local and Universal Church A final priority concerns the integration of religious into the life of the local churches and the universal Church. Here, of course, a balance is essential. It Priorities for Religious / 165 was once said that religious life "has no other end but to be at the service of the priest." Plainly, however, religious must defend the specific character of their vocation against attempts, however well intentioned, simply to use them for fulfilling the immediate needs of parishes and dioceses. At the same time, though, there is another side to this coin. Individual religious, as well as their communities, must take special care to be in deep and sincere unity with the Vicar of Christ and with the orientations he gives, especially those which concern religious life or interpret the charisms of the founders of any religious institute. The same applies to their relationship with bishops. As a matter of priority, the norms contained in the Holy See's document Mutuae Relationes should be implemented in order that religious life be fully integrated into the life of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Conclusion Permit me, in concluding, to quote words of Pope John Paul II which draw together many of the themes upon which I have touched. Speaking last May to religious men and women of England and Wales, the Holy Father ob-served that although "to most people you are known for what you do," never-theless "your true greatness., comes from what you are," and that can only be understood "in the light of the 'newness of life' revealed by the Risen Lord." "At some time in your lives," he said, "the call of the Lord to a special intimacy and union with him in his redemptive mission became so clear that you overcame your hesitations. You put aside your doubts and difficulties and committed yourselves to a life of total fidelity to the highest ideals of the Gospel. Your free decision was sustained by grace, and your perseverance through the years is a magnificent testimony to the victory of grace over the forces that struggl~ to tarnish the newness of. your life in Christ . "'l~oday there exists a wid~pread~mptation to unbeliEfanddespair. You, on the other hand, are committed to being men and women of deep faith and unceasing prayer. To you in a particular way may be addressed Saint Paul's exhortation to Timothy: 'Fight the good fight of the faith: take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses' (1 Tm 6:12). "Believe in the Risen Lord. Believe in your own personal vocation. Believe that Christ called you because he loves you. In moments of darkness and pain, believe that he loves you all the more. Believe in your mission within the Church. Let your faith shine before the world, as a lamp in the darkness; let it shine as a beacon that will guide a confused society to the proper appreciation of essential values. May the spiritual joy of your personal lives, and your com-munal witness of authentic Christian love, be a source of inspiration and hope" (Address to Men and Women Religious of England and Wales, May 29, 1982). Religious Life in the Young Churches Jan Snijders, S.M. At the end of 1981, Fr. Snijders finished his term in the general administration of his congrega-tion and has enjoyed a sabbatical for the past year. Presently he is lecturing in philosophy at the interdiocesan seminary of Papua, wfiere his address is: Marist College, Bomana: P.O. Box 1101 ; Boroko; Papua, New Guinea. ~n a periodical that aims at providing a forum for theological and spiritual reflection on religious life one does not have to underline the importance of religious life, and the case of tile Young Churches is not so different as to warrant an exception. The entire Church has become missionary (or should have). The contribution of religious to the mission of the Church and espe-cially their religious consecration itself are to manifest in all churches, young and old, that "the kingdom of God is at hand" (AG, 18; LG, 44). While pontifical and conciliar documents are eloquent on the subject of fostering religious life in the Young Churches, they are prudently vague on how this should be done, on who should do so and on the forms that religious life should take. Religious superiors too are probably very wise to keep things out of the limelight. Growth and adaptation are processes of a delicate nature. Premature publicity and interventions could easily do more harm than good. All of this may explain why so little is being written by private observers or scholars on the~ founding of local re!igious institutes and on the spreading of international institutes in the Young Churches. Still these things are taking place everywhere and a few general remarks can be of use to people trying to make responsible decisions. Are Local Foundations Preferable? Among the many connected questions there is one that especially observers in the "old" churches often bring up: ls it not better to leave the field to local 166 Religious Life in the Young Churches / 167 foundations so that religious life from the beginning can be thoroughly Afri-can, Indian, or whatever the case may be? Before proposing elements of a possible answer we must note that, as a matter of fact, local sisterhoods have been founded nearly everywhere and many are flourishing. Local lay institutes of men are much less numerous, and rare are those that can be said to flourish; in fact, one does not have to be very widely informed to know of several that after the first generation of members have ceased to exist. Practically nonexistent are clerical institutes founded in the Young Churches, with a very few, but notable exceptions. If the long-distance observer's concern for the "contextualization" of reli-gious life is praiseworthy, the assumption that it has a better chance in local institutes is debatable. For every case that substantiates the assumption there may be one that disproves it! Admittedly, a local community is never under pressure from faraway higher superiors to conform to rules and customs that originated in different cultures. But, even so, their first models of religious life were necessarily expatriates and the spontaneous desire of local religious communities to imitate foreign patterns may be a more effective force against what outsiders might conceive of as "contextualization" than pressure of higher superiors possibly could be. Conversely, local members of an interna-tional group are just as likely to carve out an identity of their own by insisting on local adaptations. In any case, those distant higher superiors who sup-posedly insist on foreign rules will in many cases prove to be either mythical figures or memories of a past that has disappeared many years ago! There are good reasons for local institutes, but "contextualization" is a doubtful one. A recent Roman document extolled (and perhaps exaggerated) the value of international religious institutes.~ In any case their importance cannot be doubted: they are able to respond to needs and opportunities across the globe; they provide spiritual renewal where local means fail; they form a network of communion and unity where local Churches become excessively particular; they carry a rich spiritual heritage and have the resources to revitalize it. If in the older churches local communities successfully work alongside of local branches of international ones, it would seem a little patronizing to doubt that this could be so in the Young Churches. Moreover, international institutes allow the Young Churches to take part in fbreign missionary activity (AG, 38). ¯ Local communities have advantages that 1 shall mention further on, but they also have to cope with disadvantages. It is not fair to .demand that local ordinaries (such communities usually are of diocesan right) always manage to strike a perfect balance between rightful concern and respect for internal autonomy. But it means that especially small lay communities at times suffer under interference from one bishop, only to be neglected by his successor.2 Local communities often were founded by a missionary or a bishop to respond to immediate and urgent needs. One cannot expect all founding fathers or mothers to be saints or spiritual giants. With the passing of time needs change and the initial inspiration dries up. For institutes to be flexible 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 and to retain spiritual vigor they need somehow to stay in contact with one of the great spiritual traditions of the Church. For the large orders and congrega-tions it must therefore always be a sacred duty to assist small communities without infringing on their autonomy and identity. "Planning" For The Spirit Much more complicated are the questions that arise when we look at the implantation of international religious orders and congregations. Granting that, in principle, there is a place for them in the Young Churches, one still has to ask whether it is opportune to do so, and under what conditions. But before tackling those questions a more basic one must be answered, namely whether such,matters can and must be "planned" at all. Shouldn't one leave things entirely to the free movements of the Spirit who calls whom he chooses, where he chooses? The religious vocation is an indix~idual gift of God and the receiver has an inalienable right to follow the call of the Lord. The task of superiors, ecclesias-tical and religious, can only be to discern, to respect and to encourage the movements of the Spirit in the hearts of people who feel themselves called. Granted this point of departure, it still remains a fact that God's call usually leads the receiver to ask admission in a particular community, and then the superiors concerned have a right and a duty to decide whether it is for the good of the candidate and of the community to accept her or him. And, in a place where that particular community is not firmly established, that is bound to be a delicate question, especially if it concerns a single applicant, or a very small number. Unless a community is going to be firmly established among the people from whom the applicants come, accepting them carries the risk that they will pass their religious lives as strangers, either permanently in a foreign country or as the lonely locally-born among foreign fellow religious in their own country. Of course people may be called to do just that, but it demands a high measure of psychological balance, of personal maturity, and of spiritual depth. Unless these gifts are clearly present, superiors may have to conclude that the candidate is not called to such an exceptional life. The fact that candidates ask for admission may lead the community to attempt a permanent foundation in their country. Conversely, candidates can be accepted, and even sought, in view of a planned foundation. Whatever the case may be, the decision to establish the order or the congregation in a new country is distinct from the decision to accept a few individual candidates, even if one thing will eventually lead to the other. We have two separate decisions, each to be made on its own merits, and not necessarily by the same people. For one thing, accepting candidates is the responsibility of religious superiors only; starting a foundation needs the agreement of ecclesiastical superiors. My conclusion is that, while we must respectfully follow the movements of the Spirit, we cannot abandon prudent "planning," i.e., weighing changes and consequences whenever candidates are to be admitted and foundations in the Religious ~fe in the Young Churches / 169 Young Churches are considered. The Spirit also asks responsible decision making. Reasons to Hesitate I have started from the assumption that it is not self-evident that all religious orders and congregations should attempt to begin foundations every-where in the Young Churches. I have argued that the matter must not be confused with the question of eventually admitting a few individual candidates but also that, on the whole, there is a place for international institutes within the Young Churches. So why, the initial assumption? Foi several centuries missionary activity Was organized around the so-called ius commissionis whereby missionary territories were entrusted to a missionary or religious institute. This means that usually only one clerical institute was present in a given area and only a very few lay institutes, often in some way related to the ~lerical institute to which the mission was entrusted. Naturally, local candidates to the religious life would usually enter either a local community founded on the spot, or the international institute working there. Now, the former mission territories have gradually become dioceses in their own right, the ius commissionis has disappeared, and a healthy diversifi-cation of missionary and religious institutes has taken the place of the earlier "monopolies." It can now no longer be self-evident that a religious institute will found itself wherever it helps founding the Church. And there can be very good reasons why in certain cases it should not do so. The main reason for this view is the one discreetly hinted at by the Bishops' Conference of Senegal and Mauritania in a Declaration on the Vocational Apostolate of 1978.3 The bishops ask that "in a spirit of generosity, dispersion be avoided." Let us look at this idea of "dispersion." We must admit that life in an intercultural setting is demanding. Generally speaking, people can be expected to feel and to function better at home, and to show a healthier growth among people of their own culture (one advantage of local foundations!). The prob-lems of intercultural communities are still not rod difficult if the "mixture" of cultures is balanced but they become more serious for a small minority in a group that for the rest is solidly of one race, nationality or language. Especially for young people the problems this poses can be nearly insurmountable. The consequences are obvious wherever one is dealing with small Catholic populations. ! do not know of any study that has come to firm conclusions on the question of how many vocations can reasonably be expected to come from a given Catholic population. The variations according to country and period of history are considerable, but clearly there are limits. If the religious voca-tions of a small Catholic population are spread over a disproportionate number of religious institutes, then many of the locally-born religious will for-ever be minorities among the foreign missionaries. "171~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 Will those religious be able to cope with the stresses of this situation? Will, in the communities that have such minorities, the groups of local people ever grow large enough to reach what could be called "critical mass," i.e., a group large enough to spark creativity and lead to genuine indigenization of religious life? Finally, what happens if the international institute has to withdraw from the country, for lack of vocations at home, for political reasons, or whatever? Will the few locally-born members leave with the foreigners? Will they be left stranded by themselves? The situation is far from imaginary. One example may illustrate what dispersion can look like. Before the war eleven clerical religious orders and congregations entered Japan. In 1981.all but one had Japanese priests among their members. Between 1947 and 1958 sixteen other clerical institutes followed them into Japan and in 1981 twelve of those had Japanese priests among their members, in the following proportions and absolute members:4 Entered Before the War Entered After the War 87.5% = 21out of 24a 71.1% = 4 out of 7 84 %= 21 out of 25 31%=9out of 29 82.6% = 43 out of 52 28.5%=4out of 14 78.9%= 15 out of 19 25 %= 3outof12 50 %= 4out of g 21.4%= 3out of 14 44.8% = 78 out of 174 20.8% = 5 out of 24 43.3% = 39 out of 90 20 %=2outofl0 43.1%=41 out of 95 19 %=8out of 42 33.8% = 91 out of 277 17.3% = 4 out of 23 9.4%= 5outof 53 I1.1%= 1 outof 9 ai.e. 21 Japanese priests 6.6% = I out of 15 out of 24 priests in 3.1% = 2 out of 64 Japan In all but one of the pre-war set the Japanese priests are in the majority or form substantial and viable minorities. In the post-war set the Japanese members are, both proportionately and in absolute numbers, in far from promising situations. It cannot be without significance that.for the same year the institutes of the first set mention that they have together 83 members studying for the priestho6d, respectively (in the same order as above): 0, 1,9, I, 0, 8, 19, ! 1, 25, 9. The institutes of the second set register together eleven students, spread over four institutes. The other eight have none at all. It is not reasonable to expect the picture to change substantially. Already the vocation rate in Japan is "exceptionally high (but going down): more than 850 Japanese priests (diocesan and regular) in a Catholic population of about 400,000. The rate is still higher if we take into account the preponderance of Japanese women over men in the Church. Similar dispersion could probably be registered among lay religious in Japan. The clear division between pre-war and post-war entries is perhaps particu-lar to Japan but it must be far from the only place where serious dispersion is taking place. Unfortunately very few places have such splendid publications as Religious Life in the Young Churches / 171 the Japan Catholic Directory and reliable information is scarce. A Matter of Criteria If there is a place in the new churches for international religious institutes but not everywhere for all of them, choices must be made and criteria are needed: What factors constitute reasons for or against an eventual foundation? Firstly, we must take into account what has already been said about the danger of dispersion: What is the size of the Catholic population and how many institutes already exist among them? Is there room for more? Or is the area "saturated"?. One does not need hard and fast rules to make a prudent assessment. Secondly, an institute must take stock of its resources for the formation of eventual candidates. Wouldn't it be presumptuous to admit candidates if one does not have the personnel and the means to offer them a good spiritual and professional formation? And it cannot be assumed that a solid formation can ordinarily be given by sending young people to a foreign country, or by entrusting them to formators who are not familiar with the candidates' culture. The fact that this has been done in the past and that it has been known to succeed does not ~jusify doing it on a general scale: The failure of those experi-ments cannot be overlooked. Faced with the decision whether or not to seek and admit candidates, an-institute must honestly ask itself, especially today, if it has the personnel to maintain an adequate presence in the host country for a long enough period of time. A careful look at how long it has taken new provinces in the past to reach "cruising speed" and assure self-sustained growth can help to make an intelli-gent guess. By way of target figure l would propose that a clerical institute must reckon with a good twenty-five years before the local religious can reasonably be expected to carry on withou( substantial outside support. Lay institutes may not need that much time. The already mentioned Declaration of the Bishops of Senegal and Mauri-tania says that an institute should have a substantial presence in the country. But what is "substantial"?. I am inclined to think that their presence can just as easily be too big as too small. The founding community must of course be large enough to show diversity of talents and personalities. Each person's weaknesses must be balanced out by the strengths of others and candidates must be presented with an ample range of models. But if the founding com-munity gets a little too large then the chances are that it lacks buoyancy and that it has too many other interests besides founding. Especially important is the minoriO, effect. In a large group of expatriates the locally-born religious remain for too long a minority; the foreigners' ways remain normative; locals waste their energy fighting for room and their creativity is not given enough scope. The last point varies with the way the founding group is composed. If all are of the same home country, the minority effect on the locals is all the more stifling. Any group of people of the same background, living together in 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 a foreign country, tends to cultivate their common memories and cultural traits more than they ever would at home. In spite of the most noble intentions they often are, unwittingly, quite intolerant of local ways. An international group on the contrary that has proved to be able to function together has great advantages--the locals soon find their own niche. The minority effect is mini-mized: everyone is a minority, thus no one is. A religious community that believes in its spiritual heritage naturally seeks to expand. This general framework however can carry incidental traits that provide important indications as to the viability of an eventual "implantation" project. A missionary group actually engaged in one of the Young Churches, seeing that no replacements or reinforcements can be expected from the home province or the order as a whole, turns to local vocations in the hope of ensuring the continuity of its works. But this complex of attitudes must raise doubts about their ability to take in local vocations. Are they not too much preoccupied with their past achievements? Does the search for security not play too large a role? ls the specifically "religious" commitment central enough in their lives? Religious communities and superiors in the older churches that see the former flow of vocations dry up can be tempted by tales of plentiful vocations in some faraway place (even if true). Add a touch of cultural romanticism about our "decadent Western civilization" and about "the spiritual youth of unsophisticated people" and the scene is set for another unfortunate experi-ment. It may sound harsh but the general rule should be that religious who do not project their enthusiasm at home and who do not attract young people of their own culture to follow them, should not attempt to do so either among young people of another culture. This is not a matter of inviting negative comments on the motivations of religious either at home or in the foreign missions, but simply a matter of objective appraisal of their suitability to undertake a particularly demanding task. These criteria add up to a formidable list! No situation is ever going to be hundred-per-cent perfect. Still, the community that accepts young members in a new country takes on a grave responsibility. The picture as a whole must be fairly favorable to justify going ahead. It is not the kind of project that asks for bold ,risks: The generosity of young people and the future of religious life in the emerging churches is at stake. Conclusion Religious institutes belong to the life of the Church. They provide their members with ways to follow Christ. Religious discover in their own lives and show others that the kingdom of God is at work here and now. Every culture, like every individual, is in need of conversion.5 Therefore religious institutes should be present in all the churches in the diversity that is part of their charism (PC, 1; ND, I1, 12, 29). But unless this program is implemented with great care, we risk defeating our purpose and Religious ~fe in the Young Churches / "173 people of good will would suffer the consequences. This article does not pretend to have touched on all the aspects of religious life in the New Churches. It will have attained its goal if the problems involved receive a little more attention and, when choices are to be made, problems would be discussed in realistic and open exchange. NOTES ~ Directives for the Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, 23rd of April 1978 signed by Paul VI. Quoted as "ND.". -'See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. 1980, pp. 122-123. ~ Dbclaration des Evbques du Sbnbgal et de la Mauritanie sur la Pastorale des Vocations, Dakar, 13 July, 1978, p. 4. 4These figures are based on information contained in the Japan Catholic Director.v, 1981, with minor adjustments where different tables did not quite agree. 5Cardinal Pironio, Message aux Religieux et Religieuses d'Afrique, Informationes SCRIS, 1978, II, p. 279. NOW AVAILABLE From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Currents in Spirituality A God for a Dark Journey: Trends and Issues in Spirituality, 1983 George Aschenbrenner, S.J. This is Father Aschenbrenner's fourth annual survey of the field of spirituality. He now resides in St. Alphonsus House, a residence for Jesuits at St. Joseph's University. The address is 5800 Overbrook Ave.; Philadelphia, PA 1913 I. This is the fourth in a series of articles--appearing annually--which the editor asked for with a view to exploring and reflecting upon currents in American spirituality. Last year's articlO gave extensive space to a description of the larger context and environment within which, in my judgment, the spiritual trends an~d issues discussed were developing. That major influence and context, within which all American spiritual life is being lived, was seen to be secularization--rapid, continuing secularization. The lengthy first part of last year's article sought clearly to distinguish between what it viewed as a necessary and very healthy dynamic--seculariza-tion- from its pervasive and very destructive alternative--secularism. This present article is, fundamentally, a continuation of last year's perspective and approach. It directly assumes and builds further upon that reflection on secu-larization and secularism. I would suggest, then, that the reader may be helped to read the opening sections of last year's article. I take this approach because I remain persuaded that, from many different angles, there continues to be a concern and struggle in American spirituality to balance on the tightrope of this secularizing trend in our contemporary faith life while avoiding the easy missteps that lead, whether gradually or abruptly, into secularism. Besides the overarching theme of secularization, the concrete, specific trends and issues themselves which are reflected on here also relate this article 174 A God for a Dark Journey somewhat to last year's reflections. This is so--not surprisingly--because our important experiences, and what we manage to make of them with God's grace, are generally in continuity even while, at the same time, our spiritual life really grows and really changes. In some cases, therefore, trends and issues treated here are obviously direct developments of topics discussed before. In other cases, though the trend or issue 1 am writing about now may appear new, reader's closer reflection will show that, whether explicitly or implicitly, the matter actually relates to the same basic theme: our spiritual struggle as American Christians to incarnate the life and love of God in our rapidly secularizing world. 1. The God of Darkness and Suffering Our rapidly secularizing and highly technological world can be very decep-tive and misleading. In most of the world we have available light of whatever color and intensity we choose all through the day and night, No more dark-ness. Computers, cameras, radios and recorders seem to promise constant companionship and communication. No more isolation. And yet, together with all this garish light and constant talk, there is a lingering and growing sense of darkness, of alienation, impoverishment and loneliness. For a while this past year we could read of three actual wars in the papers each day: in the Falklands, in Iraq, and in Lebanon. Though the inevitable destruction and carnage of those wars was disguised and muted temporarily, gradually the terrible details came to be revealed. Slowly but stubbornly our troubled economy has been squeezing not only comfort and convenience, but hope and life out of many of the jobless poor in this country. Most of the world events and concerns mentioned in last year's article continue to be active among u's.2 This suffering and violence often visit a despairing darkness and sense of emptiness upon the human soul. To find God in this darkness and emptiness is a growing challenge. Because, for most of us, God is more obviously associated with light, fullness, wholeness, with the beautiful richness of being, people today have more of a sense of forsakenness and abandonment in their experience of the empty darkness. Nor will the immediate future, of our secular world bring a sudden evaporation of this darkness and alienation. Rather than attempting to escape the darkness, therefore, we must learn to look deeper into it, to find God present everywhere--and always a God of personal love and intimate care. The negative, or apophatic, element in our experience of God, then, may be taking on more practical importance today in spirituality. As David Rast has said: "Only if we can know the God whose transcendent greatness allows him to be 'no-where,' can we gradually experience our God as always 'now-here.'" This is the approach of Pseudo-Dionysius, of The Cloud of Unknow-ing, which leads beyond the surface light of God's love into the depths of a darkness of faith where the God of loreand light is experienced in a great 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 simplicity of presence and faith. The experience needed here is the one I described in last year's article as the protection against secularism. Now l~think we are facing some specific implications of this experience of God. If we do not settle for a God who is too small, then we can find a God of light, fullness, wholeness and beauty in the pervasive darkness, emptiness, fragmentation and horror of our world and of our hearts. A God whose greatness and majesty can make human hearts tremble in awesome wonder is also so inextricably involved in this world that the intimacy of love in Jesus can quiet human hearts even in the most fearsome and trying situations. As events in our world and in our personal lives shock and strip us to the very core of our being, we must, rather than despairing and falling into an unreal world either of denial or of naive optimism, learn to plumb the depths tofind the God who holds all being, and so each of us, in existence. In the depths of a heart experiencing pitch-darkness or crass evil or chilling emptiness, there is present a God without whom being and existence cannot be. And this God, our God, is always love. It is the God whose love and care were always present to Jesus on Calvary, even when he sensed a chilling absence. We are now struggling, and we will continue to struggle, to find what Louis Dupr6 calls The Deeper Life.3 We need to discover the God whose pervasive and intimate love is finally revealed more fully through the negations of an apophatic spirituality, that same love which, like a quiet flame at the center of all being, is sometimes experienced.like a torch for great zeal, at other times like a white heat apparently consuming while actually laying bare the divine center of our true identity. Dupr+ describes the attitude involved in this pro-found experience of God: "Unconditional trust without knowing what it is we trust, willingness to let go without knowing whether anyone will ever catch us, preparedness to wait without knowing whether we will be met.~Total looseness and unconditional trust are the virtues negative theology teaches us to culti-vate. There could be no more appropriate lesson in our time.TM 2. The Temple of the Human Heart In a rapidly secularizing world, public life provides less and less of the genuinely religious. Shrines and temples seem useless. The decay of their buildings speaks of a dead past. Christendom, it would seem, has long since died and does not offer even a desirable ideal any more. The world and society are no longer built or structured according to a Christian vision, nor, for that matter, according to any genuinely religious vision. For many people, this seems no great loss. But for the person of faith and religious sensitivity, the situation presents a great challenge. Realizing the futility of trying to turn back contemporary developments, to return to a past age's forms of public religious expression, we see that we are being invited instead to enter the temple of our own hearts. It is not enough, though, that the ontological reality of every human heart makes it actually a temple of God. We need consciously to app.reciate this, to cooperate actively A God for a Dark Journey / 177 with the adornment of this uniquely personal temple. Without a sense of itself as this personal religious temple, the heart's faith can die as it falls prey to secularism. This temple of the human heart, however, cannot be wholly an inward reality. It must find some appropriate externalization. The inner sanctuary, of course, mus~ be highly personal and intimately religious--a profound meeting of God and of our truest self. And yet, while profoundly personal and inti-mately unique, this inner temple ought not promote a closed individualism. The human heart where God lives and is adored and loved cannot become a church unto itself. The God who is known and reverenced in our own hearts is at once the source of, and the invitation to, community, the community of the human family and the community of the Church.This religious temple of the heart, if its air is to remain healthy and invigorating, will require, especially in a secularistic, religionless world, some appropriate external aids, like the desig-nated chapel of a religious community or a special place in one's own room, and a special time set aside for regular prayer. When the human heart has thus become a carefully provisioned temple of the Lord, the person has also become capable of an inner life of quiet intimacy and peace everywhere, whether it be in a bustling subway, or in the solitary confinement of a jail, or in the dangerous crowding of a refugee-boat or on the death-bed of a cancer patient. At times our hearts will be temples of bright light focusing on a God joyfully imaged and named in Jesus. At other, catas-trophic and confusing times, this temple will be darkened, housing a God temporarily nameless and unknown. In either atmosphere, this templeis a place where we bend low in quiet awe and in reverently trustful abandonment to a Love that fires ministry for God's justice in our world. This profound inner life o~ personal religious experience will be increas-ingly necessary as we move to the future. And it is always available, because of that God whom Jesus spoke of as seeing and rewarding all hidden gestures of love: "Let it be a secret between you and your Father. And your Father who knows all secrets will reward you.'~ Karl Rahner, in an article entitled "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," sums up this trend and its issue: "It has already been pointed out that the Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all. If by mysticism we mean., a genuine experience of God emerging from the very heart of our existence, this statement is very true and its truth and importance will become still clearer in the spirituality of the future.'~ 3. To lk Peoplg of the Church Many people continue to grapple with the role of the Church in their Christian identity. Whether these be earnest novices in a religious congrega-tion, serious students in a seminary or college, or young people just returned from some volunteer service and about to enter into a parish, the issue is always the same: in living a genuine and generous love for God, how much 171t / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 must one be a person of the Church? And the issue centers on the institutional Church. Can I stand for, and identify myself (maybe in some necessarily special way) with this international institution that is the Catholic Church? It is a matter of conscience for some whether they can identify with some of the practices and policies of the Church. Many, while believing in God and living generous lives of service, either explicitly reject membership in the Church or effectively live their religion without any real relationship to the Church. This is a complicated matter, but one that must be ~faced by the whole spectrum of Church membership, from pope and bishop to parishioner in the pew. A specific cause, or combination of different causes, can raise the issue critically for different persons: a domineering clerical attitude encountered; monotonous, uninformed preaching; a successful remarriage after divorce; the prohibition of women's ordination--or maybe even the prohibition of their service as lectors; and many other reasons. For an increasing number of people, practices within the institutional Church which they perceive to be unjust are making membership in the Church more and more painful and questionable. To the query as to how much one must identify with the institu-tional Church, answers would range far and wide. Some would almost identify the Church with the institution, while others would play down the institution to almost no significance--and thus would think the entire question otiose. A "sense of Church" must be reclaimed for many people. For the fully Christian mind and heart, the mystery of God in Christ Jesus, and therefore the mystery of the whole human family, is incarnational and communal--and universal. All this says community. And not just sect, either--but Church. But we must all be concerned that it be a Church that is attractive, inspiring, demanding, inviting. The development of such a Church that others can believe in will continue to be the task of us all. The Church on all levels of its membership must continue to struggle for a more genuine following of Jesus in our world. Some gather regularly into small groups to share life and faith and find support in community. This can begin to provide an experience of community which is at the core of Church. But it does not, in the long run, suffice. To see the glory of God in a weak, human Church, struggling in the Spirit,'is never easy. It requires a stubborn hope, the hope of a genuine love, sometimes, surely, critical, but always a lover of the Church.7 4. An Expansive Ministry Born in Forgiveness Especially iri religious life, but also throughout the whole Church, it is getting more and more difficult to find people competent and willing to under-take ministries of difficult responsibility. In religious life, some major superiors speak of a crisis of leadership. They speak of a lack of available and suitable men and women for the challenging roles of leadership either in the religious community itself or in the apostolic works of the community. It may be a formation director; the pastor of a new black or Hispanic parish, a third-world mission assignment or a superior in a larger community. But the issue is always A God for a Dark Journey the same: men and women to fulfill these challenging tasks. We have renewed our concept of the role-model for a religious superior and for the leader of our apostolic works. But it is difficult to find men and women suitable and willing to undertake such missions. Among the consequences of this leadership crisis, paramount is the inter-ference it is causing with the service that religious communities could otherwise render in the world. This leadership need is not to maintain past, outmoded structures, but rather to inspire and facilitate more unified and effective service in response to new, serious challenges facing the Church in today's world. Is this leadership failure a result of faulty formation? This is a question worthy'of reflection on the part of all of us. And it must be answered carefully. The profound renewal of contemporary religious formation has involved a necessary development in a direction quite different from the past. The stress on individual responsibility and careful respect for the gifts and talents of the individual has correctly tailored formation programs increasingly to the strengths and weaknesses of each individual. But while moving in this person-oriented direction, we have not, perhaps, maintained or developed as well as we might that healthy sense of self-abnegation which would allow an individ-ual to be truly available for more of the service-needs of the religious group. This is a necessary correction/refinement of contemporary formation that we now recognize and can implement. In an earlier article, I called this the devel-opment of a more refined Christian personalism which would help us recog-nize and transform the very real, though subtle, self-serving tendencies in all our hearts,s ° As we ponder the difficult ministries facing us now and in the future, we must remember that all genuine ministry is rooted in devotion. Ministry is neither something carelessly superimposed from above, nor somethifig nar-rowly limited to an individual's comfort and convenience.Devotion here is not some emotional pietism. Rather, it is the experiential capacity to find God-- something that runs much deeper than emotion and feeling. Formation pro-grams should provide a great diversity of experiences, in order to stretch the person's capacity for devotion far beyond what might have been originally expected. If an individual's ability to find God is too narrowly limited, that person's lack of availability for service can easily become a future liability. This trained, experiential ability to find God in various ministries and situations always involves a kind of self-transcendence. This transcendence is made possible thrbugh an abnegation of self which is motivated and inspired by an experience of the greatness of God's love for me, The goodness of God's love is exhilarating and expansive, attracting the human heart beyond nar-rowly self-centered concerns. Heroism for God is born here. But without a growing mortification, one that is not destructive but revelatory of our true self in God, the devotion of finding the expansive joy of God's love in many future ministries simply is not possible. Another aspect of this crisis of leadership for ministry is our ebbing expe- 1~10 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 rience of forgiveness. Forgiveness is meant to be the birthplace of great zeal for ministry. God's gratuitous forgiveness sets off a dynamic which turns the heart outward for service. To be forgiven beyond one's wildest dream is not some-thing to be kept to oneself, but becomes a life of service of others. The greater the sense of forgiveness, the greater and more expansive will be the zeal of devotion for finding God in ministry. But a trend I mentioned three years ago continues to haunt us in this whole matter of a vigorous availability for ministry which is essentially rooted in the religious experience of forgiveness? and it is this. We remain timid and con-fused in our admission of personal sin. As we continue to grow out of an unhealthy, Jansenistic, legalistic sense of sin (especially in the sexual realm), we are left with a vacuum, since we have not yet properly assimilated a healthy sense of social sin or personal sin (also in the sexual realm). Fears of self-hatred and unhealthy guilt still dull our sensitivity to the healthy guilt and shame that are always part of the grace of a forgiving God seeking out the sinner. But so long as our past leaves us confused and quite unresponsive to our present sinfulness, we cannot experience the full dynamic of God's forgiveness in our hearts. And it is only an acknowledged sinner, humbled in the truth of forgive-ness, who receives.from God an expansive zeal for ministry. The effect of a shallow experience of forgiveness finally registers in minis-try. If one is not driven to ministry through forgiveness, one can fabricate one's own ministry in too selfish a manner. Rather than receiving a ministry from God in the devotion of forgiveness, a person can cling to a ministry with an angry arrogance and impatience that often speaks of improving and aggrandiz-ing oneself rather .than serving the needs of others. Further, this experience of being humbled in the truth of one's sin and God's forgiveness is always an important sign distinguishing a true prophet from a false prophet. In these days when prophecy is a more noticed phenomenon among us than before, and when we are in need of the inspiration of true prophets, we cannot forget that the true prophet is forged in the zeal and humility of forgiveness. 5. A New Way of "Making" Catholics Any remedy for the deficient sense of personal sinfulness mentioned in the previous trend will require much more than our renewed rite for the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation. This renewed rite, in practice now for about eight years, though it is an improvement, has obviously not by itself renewed the experience many people have of God's forgiveness. What is needed is a whole catechesis to help people recognize in their own hearts the dynamic of receiving God's gift of forgiveness. This raises the issue of how Catholics are formed and trained, raised in the faith these days. It is a matter of how people over a lifetime continue to enter the Church. There seems to be a great change occurring here which will have tremendous implications for the future. Most of us were raised in a Catholic school system where we had drilled into us the essentials and practices of A God for a Dark Journey / 1111 Catholic life. But things have changed. There are not nearly as many religious serving as teachers as before. Many parish schools have closed. And besides, many of those simple, clear essentials of Catholic life are not so simple and clear any more. As formal Catholic schooling becomes less and less available, CCD and other methods of religious education take on greater importance. Often in the past CCD was not very effective. It was.perceived as a definite second-best to the parochial school. But that view is slowly changing, and it must continue to change. As the whole procedure and atmosphere of formal schooling become less and less the way of handing on faith, new replacements must be instituted. Genuinely Catholic believers will never sprout fully grown from the ground. Besides learning the doctrines of faith, young people must receive a feel for the faith life. They must be allowed to admire it as they see it lived and shared by others. As Michael Warren, an expert in youth ministry, claims: Young per-sons need the fidelity of adults who care for them.~° The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults has received very good press. Some have called it "a revolutionary document" as it ritualizes a process of initiation into the Church which "gives first priority to the mystery of God's love for us.TM It can also be used as a guide in the baptism of infants.12 While this document expresses a better view of Church and ritualizes much better the process of initiation into the Church, its effectiveness will very much depend on the proper attitudes of priests and laity, and the availability of enough competent, generous, committed adults. Only in this way will the words of the document come to life as an ongoing process of initiation, a real catechumenate, which can help transform both how we "make" Catholics and what genuine Catholic life will look like in the future. RCIA, then, over a period of years, can play a large role in the formation of Catholics, but it cannot dispense us from the serious experimentation needed to discover and develop other forms of religious education that will be effective formatively on persons through their young years and on into their adulthood. I do not want to be misunderstood. I am not calling for the abolition of all Catholic schools. 1 am, rather, reflecting in the context of the actual situation that faces us now. The cos( of private religious education continues to escalate even as we struggle for tax credits to cover some of the expense. And the number of parochial and private schools continues to decrease. In this situa-tion, we must find a viable replacement for handing on Catholic faith, for helping our young people to grow up in that faith. Both in the schools that remain and in new religious education programs, the role of competent, enthu-siastic lay people continues to grow in importance. And this brings us to our next trend. 6. The Growing Vocation of the Lay Person We need to broaden our understanding and usage of the word "vocation." 182/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 One Often hears the worried question: "Do you think we'll have enough voca-tions?" The question clearly limits the concern to priestly and religious voca-tions. In breaking out of this past narrow understanding, we need to help others to see that living a serious faith life involves for everyone a vocation to service in the Church. It is not only priests and religious who have a vocation. Again, the lay vocation itself can be viewed too narrowly, as Archbishop Bernardin has cautioned: "Sometimes the impression is given that if a lay person wishes to become involved in the Church's mission, he or she must always be specially trained to become, in effect, a kind of professional within the Church. This view of lay ministry, I believe, is too narrow.''~ As a broader sense of vocation develops and spreads, I think we will never know exactly how many vocations (in the narrower sense) are "enough." But we will cooperate much more in all sorts of Christian ministries--and so we will feel much less shorthanded. Attitudinal changes, however, among some clergy especially, and among some lay people, too, are needed before that older limited view of vocation is transformed into a vision of great collabora-tion on all levels of the Church. Both the need for and the supply of well-educated, committed lay men and women continue to grow. More and more lay men and women are needed both to share and to implement the religious vision that must shape the curriculum of our Catholic schools, as well as to exercise other ministries in parishes and dioceses. A growing number of competent people are available for all these posts. And, increasingly, they are men and women who are hungry for an adult, inspiring and integrating spirituality. If these people are not to be forced to search for this spirituality even outside the Church, we must find ways of responding to this hunger. And this assistance must be largely centered in the parish. In no way does this exclude the use of special spiritual centers, retreat houses, or programs that are outside the boundaries of the parish. But these mhst always be complemented by a lived sensE, within the parish, of the presence of spiritual growth and challenge manifested in things like the quality of homilies, small discussion groups and a strongly collaborative response to the missionary needs both within and beyond the parish. Dolores Leckey, executive director of the U.S. Bishops' Secretariat for the Laity, lists among the primary needs of the laity: "a place to tell the truth, the experience of being listened to with respect, a chance to minister in ecclesial or designated ministry, and affirmation of the secular lay vocation and support of that vocation through theological education and in-depth spiritual formation." She sees these needs calling forth three needed attitudes in the ordained priest: com-mitment and community, interdependence in ministry, and willingness as opposed to willfulness.~4 For many of these lay men and women, the fundamental vocation to which they are called is the noble and glorious one of raising a good Christian family. I have written before on the precarious state of the family and the challenges with which this situation confronts us.~ Without repeating all those A God for a Dark Journey / 11t3 points again, my concern here is simply to face and restate the need for holy, self-sacrificing men and women to give themselves to raising a family. In a culture tending more to self-centered comfort and convenience, this ideal of raising a family tends to lose some of its glow. In fact, how many young people, once they finally decide to marry, actually plan on having a family? It is hard, though, to know how pervasive this attitudinal-shift away from raising a family really is. The vocation of a mother and father, with its own unique suffering and sacrifice, ought never seem "ordinary." It is a great, glorious vocation, and one vitally essential to the future of the Church and of the human race. Talented and dedicated young men and women must be helped to see that raising a family is truly a "vocation" in the Church. A theology and spirituality of the family must continue to be developed for the contemporary world and Church. Only with continuing reflection and careful cooperation on the part of husband' and wife can their raising of a family become integrated with, and be a powerful, creative means for furthering, their own profession and sense of self-worth. And the legitimate, essential struggle for women's rights .must not be allowed to create a condescending scorn for the women whose life, for so many years, is spent at home raising a fa'mily. To co-create with God, and daily to reveal God's love to children, is an exalted vocation--one that gives profound joy and binds parents in deeper love through sacrifice. 7. Public Witness to a Gospel Spirituality Which Prescinds from All Political Ideology The Church has been taking more and more stands on social questions over the past three years. A quick review of the weekly issues of Origins would show how often the National Conference "of Catholic Bishops has testified before various congressional committees over this same period. Some names of church men and women have almost become household words on various social issues, in this country and beyond. Nuclear disarmament, international concern for human rights, aid to El Salvador, an anti-abortion amendment, ~nd the abolition of the death penalty are but a few of the issues that have drawn public statements from various bodies within the Church. I would guess that, as the Church's social consciousness continues to grow, there will be need in the future for even more public stands. There is a serious danger here, though, something that could corrupt the Church's whole approach to social issues, both in this country and throughout the world. Some of the stands that the Church is taking and will be called upon to take may well coincide with the stands of different political ideologies and parties, whether Marxist or capitalist, Democratic or Republican. But the Church's stands must always clearly be and be seen to be conclusions of a gospel spirituality which prescinds from any and all political ideologies as such. One can, these days, hear someone speak strongly for international human rights or for nuclear disarmament, or for any other social issue, but 184 ] Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 who does so in such a way as to become clearly involved with a specific political ideology. When people hear such talk, they often, and quite reason-ably, wonder how a speaker of another political view would address the same topic. When the speaker's viewpoints are given in such a partisan manner, any gospel vision, if expressed at all, simply has to lose much of its force. And so the gospel witness is blunted for the listener. A specific political orientation of the speaker can, therefore, distract from the power of a position which he or she sincerely intends to incarnate gospel spirituality. To be identified too closely with a political ideology, rather than to be and act as a person of the Gospel, distracts people from what can be the power of various public stands of the Church. To be ready to take such stands requires that the individuals involved in these issues continue to take the means necessary to grow in and live more profoundly a gospel spirituality. In its first version of the pastoral letter on peace and war, the National Conference of Catholic Bishops claimed that "war, especially the threat of nuclear war, may well be the central problem.of our age." Within the past two years much energy and effort has resulted in a gradual development of sensitiv-ity and consensus, not 0nly on the part of the bishops, but also, though more slowly and perhaps less perceptibly, on the part of the Catholic faithful. How extensive this consensus will become, and whether it will prevent a serious division among the faithful at the publication of the final version of the pastoral letter, perhaps this spring, are hard to predict. But the different titles of the first two versions of the pastoral letter do manifest some of this devel- ¯ opment: "God's Hope in a Time of Fear" becomes "The Challenge of Peace~ God's Promise and Our Response." Some commentators have seen the first version as inviting Catholic theologians to develop a true theology of peace, and the second version, in response to an avalanche of helpful criticism, as an actual contribution to such a theology. Joseph O'Hare's words seem very sound and sensible: "In the end, the process may prove more important than the document it produces."16 The dialogue, debate and honest confrontation of different positions, at times quite heated, seem a work of the Spirit painfully forming a clarity and consensus that can challenge not only the consciences of Catholics, but also the difficult decisions of those responsible for the peace policies of our country. This complicated issue of the use and even possession of nuclear weapons must be both carefully scrutinized and evaluated, ultimately, in terms of an explicitly gospel vision of reality. The bishops must speak, and must be seen to speak, from a different vision than those who simply work within "liberal" or "conservative" ideologies or categories. The seriousness of the issue, which may be honestly summarized as the very survival of the human race, deserves the most careful s~arching out and testing of consensus within the American Catholic community. It must be a consensus based on our richest moral consciousness. To settle for any minimal, least-common-denominator position would be to default on the spiritual leadership that is required of the bishops A God for a Dark Journey by their position in our faith community. In many different ways we can be instructed by this process. It can teach the bishops, and the rest of us as well, about appropriate ways of reading and facilitating the Spirit's formation of a faith-consensus within our community. It can instruct us about what shall have to go ihto the future meaning of an internationally accountable, authentic patriotism. It can help us learn expe-rientially about the essentially important matter of unity and division within the American Catholic Church in the face of a great public issue which is moral as well as utterly pOlitical. Religion, and not just moral perspectives, shall have to be part of what we are taught. A profound and comprehensive peace, which God's love as revealed in a crucified Son can bring to human hearts, is what alone makes possible genuine conversion and love within the whole human family. This peace of God is the heart of the matter. And Jesus is God's victorious promise of this peace. Iksides this crucial issue of peace and war, there are other aspects of our concern for justice to be mentioned here. As we continue to increase our concern for justice, there can be a tendency to become too narrow in vision and even to exaggerate the justice issue--even though it very rightly continues to grow in importance. And again, lest 1 be misunderstood here, let me reassert that I do realize how very far many of us have to go in developing a true sense of justice, letting it influence the dedication of our Christian lives,t7 However, as can happen with almost any issue, we can so stress orthopraxis that our concern becomes chiefly the need for immediate action on behalf of social justice rather than with developing a vision which can enlighten and invigorate all the works of the Church, and not simply her social works. For example, in the work of a professional in higher education, besides direct social service when this is possible, there are many other means for inculcating in students attitudes for service and long-range social change. Professors who do not manipulate or dominate, but who serve their students by staying alive to their subject, who keep their classes well prepared and challenging, are very directly promoting justice. A view which would suggest that direct social service is the best, if not the only way that higher education can serve God's justice in this world, would seem a far too narrow, and therefore false, position on what is involved in the "integral promotion of justice." A similar exaggeration of the justice issue can overlook the spirituality that is needed to give force to any social concern. Though most of us still have a long way to go. in sensitizing our hearts to God's call for justice, I wonder whether, for some who have decidedly moved their center of gravity in the direction of their own social involvement, the challenge now is to find and maintain a viable spirituality within the new central thrust of their lives. A flurry of social work is not enough. Christian commitment to the works of justice must spring from a profound sense of God's love always at work and most dramatically promised in Jesus' Calvary experience of dying into a full- 11~6 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 ness of life and love. Among religious, an extreme tendency can yield to the temptation of settling for what Johannes Metz has called the political dimension of each of the vows, without a struggle on the part of the religious to integrate the mystical with the political dimension so as to develop an organic life of con-cerned service.~s The struggle for justice can also become unfocused and lose its gospel foundation if it forgets the mutual interaction between those internal, individ-ual, more personal dimensions and the external, social dimensions in our human world. This struggle for justice must always involve the careful balance and interplay between the evangelization of individual hearts and the forma-tion of a just-world society. Concerns about stealing, cheating, abortion and sexual immorality must always be carefully related to concerns of international human rights, nuclear disarmament, politics and economic justice. Some indi-viduals, some religious communities and other Church groups who are labor-ing nationally and internationally for justice and liberation, must be careful lest they seem caught up in liberal causes for the day which claim to pursue a systemic social justice without enough concern for the conversion and sanctifi-cation of individual hearts. A just society will always require more than any mere political and economic system. The justice and liberation we are con-cerned with here is Of God. It is God's sanctification and liberation of human hearts in Jesus.~9 But this is a liberation that can only be incarnated in our world through humanly cooperative analysis, planning and action. The sense and grace of its being God's work through us can never become empty theory, but must always throb in the veins of the apostle for justice. Liberation ~heology must always be energized by a spirituality of liberation?° This difficulty of keeping the ihdividual and the social, the internal and the external in proper balance runs deep in the modern mind. The issue is too extensive to be treated here and will surely not be changed overnight. But it needs urgent, serious attention. In a world overly interpreted by scientism there is, of course, little or nothing beyond the physical. Metaphysics has fallen on tough times. What you see is not only what you get, but it is all there is, in this modern view. This development of modernity has a long philosophical history reaching back at least to the sixteenth century, and developing through the Enlightenment. It is an issue of huge proportions,.far beyond any possibility of more than mention here. But it should not surprise us that this issue insinuates its way into our struggle to understand and to integrate "that justice without which faith is incomplete," that justice which .demands not only social action but moral conversion of soul. 8. Brldgebuilders Besides a growing need for prophets in the Church today, there is an equally great need for bridgebuilders. The pioneering prophet always calls and A God for a Dark Journey / 187 leads a people into the future. The builder of bridges is needed to keep the body of the people together and not let them be separated. In many areas polariza-tion is not as severe, or at least it is not so obvious as it used to be. But on all levels of the Church there is need to bring people from different viewpoints together in a genuine unity beneath and in and through their differences. The work of the bridgebuilder is creatiVe, patient--and very difficult. It is creativity that prevents community from capitulating to the least common de-nominator. In the face of certain impasses the ingenuity of an engineering feat is called for to bridge the gulf. Bridgebuilding is also messy work: you have to be willing to get dirty. To dive underwater and survey the depths, to lay foun-dations in muddy ground and to set steel and cement are never easy. It is very patient work, work that stretches a person. One must be able to live on both shores, to recognize the gulf of difference and to have a genuine desire and hope for bridging that gulf of difference. The builder of bridges learns to listen compassionately, though not uncritically, to the good of both sides and doesn't become trapped on only one side. Bishop Cummins of Oakland, when talking about the changing relations between bishops and theologians, called his brother bishops to "be wise enough to consult not just those theologians with whom we are intellectually comfortable, but even a wider group so that we will have the sense of the broader reflection and experience of the community.TM Bridgebuilding is a priestly work in imitation of Jesus who is the great high priest, Pontifex (which means a bridgemaker). It is a priestly work we can all practice. Just as Jesus' priestly bridgebuilding is best revealed in his salvific suffering and dying on Calvary, so our own bridgebuilding ministry will involve a passion of patient suffering which will always be creative for unity. Today, we all need to develop some of this creative, paschal charism of bridge-building, if we are not to settle, on all levels of the world andthe Church, for a shallow, easily disrupted communion of minds and hearts. 9. Ongoing Monastic Renewal Three years ago, in surveying the decade of the seventies, I mentioned the matter of renewal in monasticism.22 During this past year, the issue has been brought home to me again with even an intensity. Some members of monastic communities obviously feel it is time for an honest, thorough evaluation of all the experimentation of the last fifteen years. They sense that communities too easily presume the validity of too much of that experimentation. Though this issue is somewhat removed from my personal experience, I sense in certain voices, not just a traditionalist tendency, but a healthy call for evaluation before monastic communities move on much further with planning for the future. In the midst of the worthwhile development which recent experimentation has brought, are there some changes that have weakened rather than strengthened the monastic experience of God in the Church? How, for example, do the sisters of a renewed contemplative community resolve their growing unease about whether they have lost too much of silence in their 11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 life together? How does a monastic community recognize and reject the newer versions of a tendency to rigidity, legalism, boredom, self-satisfied compla-cency- signs always antithetical to the Gospel~3 These questions, and there are many others that monastic communities could formulate far better than I, are not easy questions. But they could provoke stimulating, life-giving evaluation. In the long history of monasticism, it has always been a complicated matter to determine the appropriate "works" of a community. Merton has reminded the monastic community that it "does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.TM Louis Dupr~, in a powerful chapter on "The Poverty of God," while commenting on the monastic life-style, says that "the monk avoids looking ridiculous by refusing to take himself or his work more seriously than they deserve. Measuring them against the backdrop of eternity he rightly judges human concerns to be less than all-significant."~5 The traditional "work" of hospitality continues to bring many people into touch with the powerful monastic witness and source of faith in God. Perhaps it can be an extension of hospitality today to be involved in explicitly spiritual ministries, such as direction, or other temporary services which can be ren-dered to tile local civic community--often right in the monastery. Of course the details of such determinations can only be known in the light of prayerfully careful study of the spirit and writings of the founder or foundress--and by planned, scheduled evaluation. It will always be a challenge for the community members themselves to believe in the monastically apostolic style of being and to resist any inappro-priately active style of doing. We speak here of more than a rearranging of schedule or works. It is a matter of renewing an attitude and a vocation of men and women called to witness to God, our eternally faithfiil Lover, called to do this through who they are and how they live together, rather than through what they "do" and "accomplish." As some monastic communities try to evaluate the developments of recent years, they may be helped by re-reading Thomas Merton's "Memorandum on Monastic Renewal'~6 and by looking at Louis Duprr's conferences to the monks at Gethsemani,27 and a hosi of other writings on the monastic life today. And if, as some suggest, this issue requires further attention, perhaps the Association of Contemplative Sisters in this country could facilitate a prayerful evaluation. Monastic life is at the very heart of Christian faith and justice. In a secularistic world so hyperactive and quick to identify and evaluate people according to what they do and have, the joyful witness of men and women whose basic identity is to be in apostolic contemplation before God, while always difficult to maintain, becomes ever more important. 10. Developments in Religious Life New religious groups continue to appear in the Church. One meets new A God for a Dark Journey / 189 religious communities that have broken off from older, better-known congre-gations; some impasse could not be resolved and a new group was born. There are other new groups that are not offshoots of any previous congregation. Some of these groups have canonical and ecclesiastical approval; others do not--and some are not interested in such approval. There is much vigor, value, variety and novelty in all of this. All these groups are responding to some need but often in quite different ways. Some are permanently formed groups, founded in the permanent covenant of final profession. Others are bound together much more temporarily. It is important to acknowledge the valuable service rendered by these groups, when they are not dominated by an ugly reaction to a past difficult situation. Can all such groups be classified as religious life? Are there new forms of religious life appearing in all of this? How far can the traditional understanding of religious life be stretched in new directions? It is still too early for this observer to be sure about any answers to these issues. My personal conviction is that we must be careful that religious life cannot come to mean almost anything. Otherwise words lose meaning. It would seem clear that the Spirit is breathing new types of groups into the Church at this time. And it is not necessary to force all of them into the framework of religious life. 1 myself incline to think that religious life will continue to be a life of total consecration to God, specified in terms of celibacy, poverty and obe-dience, lived in community,28 and with explicit ecclesiastical approval. In the light of this understanding, though there can be much renewal of forms of religious life, there probably are not any wholly new forms. But there are, and will continue to be, new forms of communities that are not formally part of religious life. And this, rather than being a problem, should be a welcome addition to ways of serving in the Church. To be mutually understanding and to serve together in building that Kingdom of Jesus' Father in human hearts, as it grew and was revealed in Jesus' own heart--this is the most important gift to receive from God and to share with each other until time and experience give us greater clarity about this issue.29 Another development in religious life, and for various reasons a cause of sadness and discouragement for some, is the continuing departure of men and women both before and after final profession. As I mentioned in my last article,30 evidence seems to support the belief that the number of departures which decreased in the end of the seventies is now picking up again in the eighties. Such a phenomenon needs to be pondered. It can contain a call to keep renewing the lived witness of religious life. But, it seems to me, here we have a phenomenon different from the sixties and early seventies. People realize more and more what the truth and demands are of a religious vocation ¯ in the world today. The immediate reason for many who leave seems to be related to celibacy. Fo~ them, celibacy does not seem right and good, if pos-sible at all. But to settle for this as a final, adequate explanation seems too simple. Investigation and reflection upon many of these cases reveal, for instance, that the observance of religious poverty had stopped and at least the "1911 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 attitude, if not the execution, of religious obedience of mission had also weak-ened or even stopped before celibacy also lost its gift quality and began to seem a burden too heavy to bear any more. Though celibacy may be the more immediate and obvious final crisis, it cannot be separated from religious pov-erty and obedience, both of which buttress and give expression to the interper-sonal, unique companionship with God which, at its core, is what celibacy is all about. 11. Openness to New Non-Western Ways of Seeing Reality Over this past year, missionaries have brought to my attention this final trend. As the Church continues to grow in Africa, Japan, India, and other parts of the Near and Far East, the faith of our universal or '~world" Church3~ can be enriched by openness to the very different ways of perceiving reality in these countries. But it wil! .~'¢quire a flexibility that is not always easy for us. My-own liinited experience and reading in this area prevent, me now from writing about the obviously vast and important implications of this openness for our Christian future. But I feel the truth of the witness of 0these missionaries at least to want to mention the matter here--with the hope that both reader and writer will ponder this further over the coming year. Conclusion As I conclude this fourth article on currents in American spirituality, two reflections come to mind. They may be stated very briefly. They are both, I think, very obvious. And very important. First, 1 think it is necessary, in a rapidly shifting, changing world and in a Church whose future we are called upon to choose in the Spirit, that an informed believer have a sense of con-temporary spiritual trends and issues. Second, it is necessary to recognize and to choose, again and again, precisely within these shifting, changing trends of our time, the one perennial truth and beauty of God's revelation in Jesus. This is the great and difficult, but exciting task of the believer. A God for a dark journey. The Letter to the Hebrews speaks to the stead-fast center of the enterprise: "Christ yesterday, today and the same forever.'~2 And Hopkins catches splendidly the variety and difference of that journey, common to us all, our journey into God: "Christ plays in ten thousand places, lovely in limbs and lovely in eyes not his, to the Father, through the features of men's faces,m3 A God for a Dark Journey ] 191 NOTES WTrends and Issues in a Secularizing World," March/April 1982, pp. 186-206. 2Ibid., pp. 186-187. 3The Deeper Life, Louis Dupr6 (Crossroad: New York, 1981). 41bid., p. 46. 5Mt 6:18. 6Concern For the Church, Theological Investigations XX, Karl Rahner, tr. Edward Quinn (Crossroad: New York, 1981), p. 149. 7Avery Dulles, S.J. is always a helpful and carefully creative guide in this whole question of the Church. See his Models of the Church (Image: New York, 1978) and his most recent book, A Church to Believe In (Crossroad: New York, 1982). 8"Trends of 1980: Some Themes and a Few Specifics," Review for Religious, March 1981, pp. 238-239. 9"The Past Decade," Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 200-201. ~°"The Dimensions of Care," Origins, Jan. 28, 1982, pp. 520-524. ~tTad Guzie, The Book of Sacramental Basics (Paulist: New York, 1981), p. 85. ~2Ibid., pp. 97-103. ~3"The Future of Church and Ministry," Origins. May 6, 1982, p. 750. ~4"What the Laity Need," Origins, May 20, 1982, pp. 9-16, esp. 14. ~See art. cir., Review for Religious, March/April, 1982. pp. 202-203. ~6America, November 13, 1982, p. 284. Since we are in the midst of a process with regard to the pastoral letter of the bishops on Peace and War, it may be helpful to the reader to know that these remarks of mine were written in December, 1982. ~TArt. cit., Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 201-202. 18Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (Paulist: New York, 1978) esp. pp. 41-44. ~gThe Social Teaching of John Paul II, No. 4 "The Theme of Liberation," presented by Rev. Roger Heckel, S.J:, Pontifical Commission on Justice and Peace, Vatican City, 1980, esp. pp. 16-17. Heckel shows that John Paul 11 does not use the word liberation very much, and when he does God and Christ are the subject and content of the liberation. ~°Art. cir., Review for Religious, March/April, 1982, pp. 193-194. 2~"The Chahging Relations Between Bishops and Theologians," Origins, June 17, 1982, p. 70. 2ZArt. cir., Review for Religious, March 1980, pp. 197-198. ~See John C. Futrell, S.J., "The Monk and the Apostle," Review for Religious, May/June, 1982, p. 409. 2~Thomas Merton, The Monastic Journey, ed. Br. Patrick Hart, (Image: New York, 1978), p. 213. ZSDupr~, op. cit., p. 43. 26Merton, op. tit., pp. 213-217. ~TDupr~, op. cir. ~sSee art. eit., Review for Religious, March/April 1982, pp. 199-201, and James T. Burtchaell, "The Future of Our Fellowship," Commonweal, June 18, 1982. pp. 364-368. ~See Richard A. Hill, S.J., "The Community and the Option of Non-Canonical Status," Review for Religious, July/August 1982, pp. 542-550. The author treats the issues involved in a congrega-tion's moving to non-canonical status. ~°Art. Cir., Review for Religious. March/April 1982, p. 200. 3~1bid., p. 195. ~Heb 13:8. ~From the sonnet, "As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame." Conversion and Conflict John Navone, S.J. Father Navone writes of the pres,~nt article that it "develops the idea of the previous article ['Conversion Expres~d in Dialogue and Story.' Sept/Oct, 1982] in terms of the Synoptics' conflict stories and their implicit meaning for Christian conversion." Father continues to teach at the Gregorian University, where he also resides: Piazza della Pilotta, 4:00187 Roma. Italy. The New Testament is an external expression of the internal reality of Christian conversion. It brings to expression the mystery of God as a history of transforming love in Jesus Christ and in his community of faith: "No one has ever seen God: it is the only Son, who is nearest to the Father's heart, who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). The "conflict stories" of the New Testament imply that God's word of love will encounter human resistance.~ The adversaries of Jesus give expression to the various forms that human resistance takes to the grace and demand of God for our truest and fullest life in his love. His adversaries represent the mind-sets and heart-sets that oppose the event and the process of Christian conversion-- the personal and social transformation that results from the surrender of oneself to the love that is God. The synoptic gospels contain a number of episodes prior to the passion narrative in which there is a verbal exchange between Jesus and his contem-poraries on some crucial issue, exchanges in which Jesus and the other parties are adversaries. In these episodes, the crucial issue generally arises because of some action of Jesus, or of his disciples, which is unacceptable to the other parties. Some-times they arise because Jesus (or someone else) asks a question which pro-vokes conflict? There are three parts to the formal structure of these "conflict stories": 1) an introductory narrative: 2) the opponent's question or attack; and 3) Jesus' reply--the so-called "dominical saying." 192 Conversion and Conflict / "19:3 These stories are always preceded by some narrative. This narrative func-tions not only as a transitional link with what has preceded~ but it also estab-lishes the setting in such a way that the reader is prepared for the inevitable conflict. Thus the narrative stages a polarity or tension, with speaking and acting persons as the poles of the tension. Except in Mk 3: I-5, the conflict stories begin with a question or accusation that is usually directed toward Jesus or his disciples. In two instances, however, the questions begin from Jesus himself (Mr 22:41-46 and Lk 14:1-6). At times the silence of Jesus' opponent (as in Mk 3:2) can have the significance of a statement in the ensuing dialogue of question and answer. All materials of the conflict story are organized to stress Jesus' reply--the dominical saying--which brings the dialogue to a close. This pronouncement of Jesus has some bearing on an aspect of Christian belief or conduct. It implies the need of understanding, and it explains both the grace and the demand of God's word of love in Jesus Christ that calls for human transforma-tion in the process of Christian conversion. These conflict stories were formulated at various stages in the process of formation of the gospels, and in diverse circumstances.3 Some were shaped within the living context of the early Church's apologetical concerns in response to Jewish criticism. Others were shaped in the context of the catechet-ical concerns of the Church in its response to the need of teaching converts and regulating" the life of the believing community. Central to all conflict stories, however, is their focus on the person of Jesus, on his words, attitudes and actions. Christian conversion always has as its object the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ: his relationships to God, and his relationships to fellow-humans--his relationships to divine and human per-sons. This interpersonal life of Christ is the prime analogate for the Christian community's experience, understanding and judgment of its own interpersonal relationships with divine and human persons. ThE object of Christian conversion, then, is not just a set of truths, nor an ethical code. It is participation in the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ as this is itself rooted in receiving and giving the Father's love, in knowing and being known. The gospels' conflict stories imply the difficulty with which the mystery of God becomes a history of love in the actual life-stories of Jesus and of his followers. These stories imply that Christian conversion, both as event and as process of maturation, must have a dimension of conflict at both the intra-and interpersonal levels. "Not my will but thine be done" itself tells of a conflict relationship with the self that is always to be transcended in the individual's response to the grace and demand of the serf-giving love that is God. God's coming into our lives creates the transforming tension between his grace and its demand for an ever-greater selflessness which brings about a lasting communion with God's own self--and thereby with one another among his followers. Jesus Christ's "way of the cross" represents the "costly 194 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 love" of divine and of human self-giving and self-investment. Christian conversion, then, is the new life which derives from our accepting for ourselves God's own life of boundless love for all. The Cross expresses the suffering, that the acceptance of boundless love must entail--even for the sinless Son of God. It makes manifest that our acceptance of this love will inevitably place us in a conflictual relationship with others: If the world hates you. remember that it hated me before you. If you belonged to the world. the world would love you as its own: but because you do not belong to the world. because my choice withdrew you from the world. therefore the world hates you. Remember the words I said to you: A servant is not greater than his master. if they persecuted me. they will persecute you too . . . (Jn 16:18-20). If the conflict stories of the gospels are an expression of the interpersonal life of Jesus Christ, of his receiving and giving his Father's love for the trans-formation of all, they imply also that Christian conversion, our participation in his life, must inevitably entail conflict at both the intra- and interpersonal levels. At both levels it must entail an ever deeper penetration into the mystery of that love which itself embraces our lives, and constitutes the term towards which our whole beings strive. The God whose word of love is addressed to us in the conflict stories gives us the ability to make that word our own by the process of Christian conver-sion. 4 Not only do we hear Jesus' story, but we tell the same story in our own lives, making his struggle to overcome the unlove of the human heart our own. The Church tells these conflict stories of its Lord as an expression of the life which derives from his love. His struggle reveals the way that God's ' kingdom comes to us. Consequently, we might well question our tendency to believe that conflict at the intra- and interpersonal levels of Christian life is always an indication that something is wrong. Rather, it would seem we might be more concerned about the authenticity of a Christian commitment which did not encounter resistance at both these levels. The way of the cross is the way of inexhaustible and unquenchable love. It enables us to live in the tension and conflict that this love demands if we are to attain to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. These conflict stories must not be read outside the context of the Good News. This is what fills the heart with joy and enables self-sacrifice to be wholehearted. Even though these stories imply the demand of a God who challenges everything that is in us, they are expressions at the same time of the great Good News that God is Love and has given us his life and love in Jesus Christ and in his Spirit. Even though these stories imply all the conflict, tension, suffering and Conversion and Conflict / 195 renunciation that is inherent in living as Christians, they, too, belong to the Good News, because what is primary in them and in it is the joy taken in the goodness of the life and love that God has given us: "Jesus. who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame" (Heb 12:2).5 The conflict-dimension of Christian conversion and its way of the cross is founded on the joy that is taken in the Supreme Good, in the Boundless Love that we know and proclaim to be the Father of Jesus Christ. Through the gift of the Spirit. we are enabled to rejoice in this Love and its challenges. In this context we know that where there is love, there is also struggle. The crucified and risen One reveals that Love is not indifferenl to human unlove, but struggles to overcome it in the conflictual activity of Love's self-giving. NOTES ~Other terms have been used to designate the material which we have called here "conflict stories." The term Streitgesprhche (controversy dialogues) was used by Martin AIbertz and Rudolf Bultmann. Martin Dibelius used Paradigmen. Vincent Taylor used pronouncement stories. Sometimes controvers.v stories was used in English as a general designation. -'The following conflict stories are those designated by such as Arland J. Hultgren in Jesus and His Adversaries (Minneapoilis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1979), pp. 26-27: I. There are eleven conflict stories in Mark. usually with parallels in Matthew and Luke: 2: 1-12: The Healing of the Paralytic (Mr 9:1-8: Lk 5:17-26). 2:15-17: Eating with Tax Collectors and Sinners (Mr 9:10-13: Lk 5:29b-32). 2:18-22: The Question About Fasting (Mt 9:14-15: Lk 5:33-35). 2:23-28: Plucking Grain on the Sabbath (Mr 12:1-8: Lk 6:1-5). 3: I- 5: Healing on the Sabbath (Mt 12:9-13: Lk 6:6-10). 3:22-30: The Beelzebul Controversy (Mt 12:22~32: Lk 11:14-23). 7: I- 8: The Tradition of the Elders (Mt 15:1-9). 10: 2- 9: On Divorce IMt 19:3-9). 11:27-33: The Question About Authority (Mt 21:23-27: Lk 20:1-8). 12:13-17: Paying Taxes to Caesar (Mt 22:15-22: Lk 20:20-26). 12:18-27: On the Resurrection (Mr 22:23-33: Lk 20:27-40). 2. There are two conflict stories in the special Lucan material." 13:10-17: Healing the Crippled Woman on the Sabbath. 14: 1- 6: Healing the Man with Dropsy on the Sabbath. 3. There are three conflict stories in Matthew based in part on Marcan and Q materials: 12:38--42: The Refusal of a Sign (in part from Mk 8:11-12 and Q: Lk 11:29-32). 22:34-40: The Double Commandment of Love (in part from Mk 12:38-42 and Q: Lk 10:25-28), 22:41-46: The Question ,~bout David's Son (in part from Mk 12:35-37). 4. There is 1 co~Tflict story in Luke based in part on Marcan material." 7:36-50: The Sinful Woman at Simon's House (in part from Mk 14:3-9). 5. There is I conflict story in Q." Mt 12:22-32: Lk 11:14-23: The Beelzebul Controversy (see Mk 3:22-30). JConflict stories, obviously, are but one way for the evangelists to express Jesus' struggle. The story of the demoniac in the Capernaum synagogue, for example, expresses the demons' sense that in Jesus they have met the victor in the cosmic conflict between good and evil: "You have 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 come to destroy us, haven't you?" (Mk 1:24). '~See the treatment of Christian conversion in the eighth chapter of my book. co-authored with Thomas Cooper, Tellers qf the Word: Nine Moments in the Theology of Story (New York: I_e Jacq Publishers. 1981). SThe incapacity to enjoy seems to be connected wth the incapacity to love. Some do not enjoy anything enough to be able to forget about themselves. The first thing we read about God in the Bible is that he made something and thought it was good. St. Thomas writes of the love of benevolence or friendship that by it the person who loves desires for the person loved the same goods that he desires for himse~f"as for another se~f.'" And so the lover desires to give to the beloved the same things that have been the objects of his own love and enjoyment. See, e.g., ST. I-II, q. 27, a. 3. Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions Mary IJnscott, S.N.D. Sister Mary, formerly Superior General of the Sisters of Notre Dame of Namur (1969-1978), presently works at the Sacred Congregation for ReLigious and Secular Institutes in the area of constitutions and general chapters of sisters. She resides at her motherhouse: Suore di Nostra Signora di Namur: Largo Berchet, 4; 00152 Roma, Italy. Experience in recent years strongly suggests that religious authority, like most other kinds, is in a moment of crisis, A justifiable but over-vigorous reaction to some previous styles of operation has often been the immediate occasion of this. Other causes, however, have also contributed to the situation: the emergence of a strong culture-consciousness in certain areas; the introduc-tion of new processes and patterns whether offered postively, negatively, or simply as a change from what existed before; the need to make values and structures correspond more evidently; the evolution of ideas about religious life itself and about the Church; and even the very fact of having lived since the late 1960's in experimental conditions which often did not provide clearly for the exercise of authority. The crisis is something which ultimately affects fundamental values in religious life: identity, apostolic efficacy, the nature and importance of consecration, the future form of religious life as such. Because of its potentially serious consequences, the crisis cannot be ignored. In fact, many institutes are facing it very honestly. Responses vary. A few follow the ostrich in seeming to assume that if no attention is paid to it, the situation will disappear of its own accord. Some tend to extremes: a holding to the status quo as if nothing had happened, or a leap into a pattern which involves the virtual dissipation, or at least the non-exercise, of any real authority. Some 197 "19~1 / Review for Religious, .March-April, 1983 strive to keep the reality of ,authority but clothe it in a different language, often that of business management or politics. Some keep the concept in words but virtually shift the content to something else: usually participation, communica-tion, consensus or leadership. None of these responses meets the situation but each indicates the realization that there is a situation to be faced. More recent lines of development show a growing awareness of the need to relate religious authority to religious obedience, and both to the ecclesial dimension of consecrated life. Sisters are realizing that the authority question can only be handled adequately on the level of faith and of relation to the Church, and they are trying to find expressions which will simultaneously r~flect faith, foster life and values, meet present realities, and be in accord both with the Church's common law and with the best traditions of their institute. One such line of development is based on a better appreciation Of the service rendered by authority. Current attempts to express this are frequently contradictory because the service of authority is taken to mean either authority and service or authority as service and the conclusions drawn are not wholly consistent with either one or the other. But if authority of itself is service--that is, if by the fact of being itself it serves religious life necessarily and fruitfully-- we have a line with rich possibilities. It is some of these lines which 1 hope to explore. Before doing so, I think that a few clarifications are in order. First, I will not be speaking about authority in general but only about religious authority: the authority properly exercised in a religious congregation because of its recognition by the Church. Secondly, since without it the religious congregation would not exist as such, I will be assuming that the reality of religious authority itself is not in question but that much of the crisis lies in the evolution of structures and the search for suitable styles of exercise. Thirdly, I will restrict my reflection to the experience of congregations of sisters of apostolic life. This is partly because it is in them that questions regarding authority and government are sharply presented, and partly because my own experience is extensively with them and my reflections are largely conditioned by their sharing. The reflections fall into three main phases--a look at religious authority itself as it is seen in Jesus, in the Church and in religious institutes; then the service of authority in religious government; and finally some of the strengths, confusions and questions in the service of authority at present. I. The Service of Religious Authority 1.1 In Jesus Probably the most familiar scene associated with the authority of Jesus is the one at the end of St. Matthew's gospel (Mt 28:19-20).__.M_a.~y Of Magdala and the other Mary have been mandated, first by the angel at the tomb (28:7) and then by the risen Lord himself (28:10) to tell the disciples, "my brothers," to go to Galilee. It is a solemn convocation to the "mountain where Jesus arranged to meet them." There, before the adoration of some and the hesitation of others, Jesus makes his last, confident claim, gives his last The Service of Religious Authority / 199 command, and pledges his last promise in a setting which, for Matthew, recalls the old law of Sinai and the new law of the beatitudes. The claim is absolute-- "All authority in heaven and on earth is given to me" (Mt 28:19), and, to make this effective, he promises to be with them until the end of time (Mt 28:20). Therefore, in the work of evangelization--preaching, baptizing, teaching, carrying God's word everywhere and to all the ages--the inner strength, impulse and power are always that of Christ himself, to whom all authority is given. To the disciples, this can hardly have been surprising. Many knew Jesus as one who had authority and who exercised it. He spoke with authority and not as the scribes and pharisees (Mt 7:28-29): he interpreted the law on no authority but his own (Mt 5:21-22 ff.); he ordered evil spirits to go forth, and they went (Mt 8:32); he commanded the winds and the seas, and they obeyed him (Mt 9:27): he had authority over sickness (Mt 8:14-15); blindness (Mt 9:29); deafness (Mk 9:7-35); dumbness (Mt 9:32-33); lameness (Mt 15:30); paralysis (Mk 2:!1); sin (Mk 2:10): and death itself (Lk 7:15). The authority he exercised in regard to the disciples was unquestioned. So also was the fact that, when he chose, he could confer on others authority similar to his own. Sometimes the authority was for a short period, as when the apostles who had rejoiced exuberantly in it during their first mission (Mk 6:7, 30) found that they no longer had it when they tried to cure the boy possessed, at the foot of Tabor (Mk 9:18). Sometimes it was promised for a longer future, as to Peter after his confession of faith (Mr 16:18): and by the lake of Tiberias it was given in a definitive way (Jn 21:15-17). Jesus was Lord and Master, Shepherd and Teacher, King, though not of this world; Lord of the Sabbath, Messiah and Son of the living God. His authority was never in doubt. According to his own testimony, however, this authority was neither assumed nor taken by acclaim, but given. Like his priesthood, it was not something that Jesus conferred upon himself or took of his own initiative (see Heb 5:4), nor was it something that he Would accept from the acclamation of delighted followers who wanted to make him King (Jn 6:15). It was, as he himself said, "given" and given by the Father. For this reason, his authority was unlike any other. Intimately connected with his person as Son and with his mission as Redeemer, it served a purpose which was the Father's business (see Jn 14:31), the "will of him who sent me" (Jn 5:30). It extended to all things in heaven and on earth. It was clearly distinct in its exercise from the authority of "the rulers of this world who lord it over their subjects" (Jn 22:25) and it was used to give life (Jn 10:10) and to heal (Mr 8:16); to teach (Mr 5:14); to save (Jn 12:47); to forgive (Mr 9:6); to sanctify (Jn I: 12); to unite (Jn 17:21); to bind and loose in heaven (Mr 18:18); to send in evangelizing mission (Mk 16:16); to found the Church (Mr 16:!8). 1.2 In the Church It is this authority, exercised for the same purpose and in the same manner, that Christ continues in his Church by his presence to the end of time. Peter's 200 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 authority was something that was given as a matter of faith: it was Christ's authority invested in him. He knew it when he said to the man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple: "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk" (Ac 3:7). He knew it when he helped phrase the decision of the so-called Council of Jerusalem in the words: "It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us" (Ac 15:25). He experienced it in the inner changes of values that he had to make in order to welcome Cornelius (Ac 10:34, 42) and to break with the Judaizers at Antioch (Ga 2:i1-14). Exercising the authority of binding and loosing that Christ had uniquely given him (Mt 16:19) and confident in the Lord's prayer for him (Lk 22:32), Peter confirmed his brethren with a power which he knew was pure gift. It was at the service of Christ's mission. It depended for its efficacy on an intimate personal relation and loving obedience to the Master who had conferred it and it was exercised for Christ's purposes and in Christ's way even to union with him in martyrdom. The same characteristics marked Paul's exercise of authority. "Be imitators of me as I am of Christ" ( I Co 4:1) was his cryptic summary of his own place in relation to the Lord who was his life (Ph 1:20) and the new Christians who were his responsibility. He could appeal, and did, to the moral authority of example which can result from the quality of life, of work and of prayer in someone who is fully living his or her baptism. But he had another kind, too: a personal authority given him by God for his work among the gentiles whereby, in union with Peter, he could inspire, instruct, encourage, correct, judge, and organize the Churches he founded in order to lead them to the fullness of Christ. In using it, he made a careful distinction between what was common teaching "from the Lord," as he called it, and what was his own opinion (1 Co 7:10, 12). He was particular not to profit from it in any way personally (! Th 3:8-9 and 1 Co 9:15-18) and he was at pains to ensure that it was continued in his young Churches (2 Tm 1:6, 2:1-2). So we find him constantly instructing, correcting errors whether of doctrine in Galatia or of manner of life in Corinth, fostering order in the local Churches whether liturgical (1 Co !1) or organizational (Tt 1:15) or in the matter of interpersonal relations (Ph 4:2). When necessary, he appealed for material support from them ( I Co 16:I-4 and Rm 15:25). None of this was done without suffering, as the second letter to the Corintl~ians makes clear. The authority of Christ was only exercised in the way of Christ--through the passion and resurrection, and Paul's was a paschal experience. Religious authority in both Peter and Paul was the power of Christ given them and acting through them to fulfill the purposes for which the Church was founded. From their time onwards, the essential authority of the Church has been the same. Her task is to save, to sanctify, to unite, to r~concile to the Father, and to spread the good news of Jesus Christ concretely to all nations and to the end of time. She is, in Vatican ll's beautiful phrase, the sacrament of salvation. She therefore has to direct, judge and teach with an authority that cannot come from her members and which she cannot take upon herself but The Service of Religious Authority / 201 which is the authority of Christ whose presence she is. Her intimate union and identification with him ensure that his own authority is exercised in and through her. It does not, however, make her proof against human weakness in her style of exercising it, any more than it protected Peter from errors of judgment or Paul from the consequences of a volatile temperament. In the course of history much has occurred to condition the Church's structures in ways that needed later revision, and, on that level, she has been embroiled at times in uses and abuses of authority that had little to do with the authority of Christ. But the essential truth remains. The authority which is uniquely proper to the Church is a religious authority--that of Christ himself--to save, to make disciples, to preach the gospel, to bring all to the Father in every place and age. This is the authority which is exercised in the recognition of religious institutes by the Church as a microcosm of her own reality. It is to this authority that they relate; and it is this authority which gives them theirs. 1.3 In Religious Institutes There are several circumstances which require that the authority in a religious institute be an ecclesial or religious authority and not just one which meets functional or organizational needs. These circumstances touch the nature of religious life itself. Religious institutes do not originate of themselves nor do they continue entirely as a result of their own efforts and planning-- they are the result of a gift of God and they depend on him for both their origin and their continuance. Their basic reason for existence is the closer following of Jesus Christ from which, for them, everything else must flow and to which everything else must be related. Moreover, they are in a special way God's gift to the Church: their way of life makes good sense only on the level of faith; they witness to realities and absolutes that are neither tangible nor visible, and it is only in virtue of the Church's recognition and approval that they exist. Their purpose is that of Christ and of-the Church. Such institutes require an authority that operates on the level of faith, Christ and Church, and which corresponds to the obedience which the members have freely vowed as a value because of their closer following of the Christ whose love made him obedient even unto death. All religious foundresses have become aware of the need for this kind of authority as God continued to act in their lives. A variety of providential circumstances can bring Christians together to do good--Pax Christi, the Christian Social Volunteers, CAFOD, the Catholic Women's Guilds would be random samples, and the members of these groups need no more than the authority that results from their own self-organization in order to operate well and to achieve their purposes. Their members give to each other whatever authority is necessary for the organization to function. They are related to the Church~ not essentially or by nature of the authority which they exercise, but by the recognition of their common purpose and by the baptismal commitment 209/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1983 of the individual members. Some religious institutes have begun in this way. At some point in their development, however, came the realization that they were aspiring to something more than what a group of Christians, however well-intentioned, could give to itself. The desire for a total public commitment to God formally received, the need for perpetual vows, the call to follow Christ intimately and as community in his obedience, and the urge towards a particular insertion into his public mission, would be some of the reasons which would prompt a founder or foundress to ask the Church to exercise her proper authority and to recognize the institute as a religious family. The Church alone, in Christ's name, can establish a religious institute, can receive vows that are vows of religion, can give an ecclesial mission and can confer the specifically religious authority in virtue of which an institute can require its members so to live and to work as to attain the purpose for which the institute was erected. This authority, which I will call religious authority, relates particularly to consecration, vowed life, mission, formation and government. It is specific to religious institutes and it is not the same thing as organization, responsibility, power or leadership. Given by the Church, it always involves an ecclesial accountability. Moreover, religious authority is never absolute. It is invested in persons clearly designated but who for the most part may not operate alone, and it is mediated through structures, usually worked out by the foundress in dialogue with the Church, which express the charism, nature, spirit and purpose of the institute and which are approved in its constitutions. Such authority makes possible a life of vowed obedience. Moreover, it is necessary for it. It is true, of course, that the structures by which religious authority is mediated can become outdated. They can atrophy, be abused or manipulated, lose contact with reality, or fail to function. They can reach a stage when they no longer correspond to or express the values that they are meant to foster. They then need to be revised and renewed. For this process, it is of the utmost importance to bear in mind the nature, purpose and source of religious authority, since models that are suitable to other forms are not necessarily appropriate to the structures of authority in religious life. It is also necessary to remember and respect the strongly ecclesial dimension of religious authority since this makes renewal of authority structures always a matter of dialogue with the Holy See and not simply the unilateral initiative of an institute. We further need to keep clear the correlation of authority with charism and life as expressed in the institute's own sound traditions, since this gives the best practical guidance for structures which will reaffirm the institute's identity in creative fidelity, continuity and openness. Where structures are renewed in this way, authority is a fruitful reality serving the purposes for which religious life exists. It is a witness to him who came not to be served but to serve and who used fiis authority at the service of the kingdom. Where the renewal of structures somehow loses sight of the unique nature, ecclesial dimension, and The Service of Religious Authority / 203 charismatic continuity of religious authority on the level of faith, it can ultimately betray religious life itself by secularizing it, in the negative sense, in what is fundamental to it. The various crises of authority at present lie at various points between these two possibilities. II. The Service of Authority in Religious Government 2.1 The Model The model of the authority that serves is Christ, the Servant of Yahweh. He to whom all power is given in heaven and on earth is also, and without diminishing either aspect, the one who came to serve, who emptied himself, obeyed even to the cross, and gave his life as a ransom for many. Clearly in ,iesus authority and service are not in contradiction. One is not at the expense of the other and there is no tension of opposites having to be held in balance. He refers easily to both, as when he is washing Peter's feet (,in 13:14), and he never attempts to justify either. Being at once Son and Servant, he exercises both authority and service as one, and this is of the essence of his incarnation. As religious, the goal of our life is the closer following of Christ in all its fullness but there is no doubt that we have a certain difficulty with this aspect of his reality. This may be because we tend to separate the concepts of authority and service in a way which he does not. ,iesus is concerned with the reality of each; he never confuses them, but they are one in his person. We tend to oppose them and to get involved in words to describe them. For example, we often think or speak of authority as an abstraction. Its synonym is power, with connotations of lordship, mastery, might and force that move easily into oppression and violence. Its implications are efficiency and the carrying out of orders. Its contrary is subservience. We think of service as a function accom-plished or something done in view of helping another, whether this is a kindly individual act like giving a hand to an old person, or a public utility, like driving a bus, or the meeting of a national need like the operation of civil service. Its synonym is action in relation to something or action in view of something. It implies somehow being less or becoming less than another. Its contrary is command. We tend, therefore, to identify authority with the power and lordship which are the contrary of service and, because of the negative connotations which we attach to it, we try in fact to avoid its exercise in-common life, to reduce or even to eliminate it, and we forego, perhaps too simplistically, the potential which it has for holiness and for fruitfulness in the apostolate. Yet Christ had authority, used it, and did not hesitate to speak of it and to confer it. It enriched, and in no way d

Issue 46.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1987. ; REVIEW FO, RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REWEW FOg RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1987 by REVIEW FOg RELiGiOUS. Single copies $2.50. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail); airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rv.vlv.w FOR REI.I(;IOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors May/June, 1987 Volume 46 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOIl REI.I~;IOtlS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW fOR REI.I~:IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassgtte recordings as a service for the visu-ally impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Mary and Our Reconciliation in Christ Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald has written yet another thoughtful and fruitful article on Mary our Mother. His last article on Mary was "Our Lady of Wisdom" (May/June, 1986). His last article in our pages was "Invisibly Companioned" (January/February, 1987). Father Macdonald still resides at: St. Joseph's; Wellington Road; Todmorden, Lanc.: 0LI4 5HP England. It is puzzling to read from time to time that,- seemingly, the appeal of Our Lady is chiefly psychological rather than personal. So, for example, "Mary .has been a very popular image for both women and men . Men still Often seem to derive a great deal from the image of Mary, perhaps cel-ibate men. in particular, since Mary as mother provides a safe, that is, sex-ually taboo womanly image.''~ Is her appeal then in what she represents rather than who she is? Is she a popular image or a popular person? Every individual suggests more than herself, of course, but in the living of the everyday Catholic this emphasis on "the image of Mary" seems sadly unreal. There is a world of difference between admiring her icon at an exhibition and taking her into our home in faith and love. Insofar as she is seen primarily as a psychological refuge she is no longer the mother of Jesus as the Gospel reflects her. It was no image but someone authentically human who "gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swad-dling clothes, and laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn" (Lk 2:7). A male religious might be forgiven instinctive irritation as he feels him-self being patronized. More to the point, being particularly singled out as finding Our Lady a safety valve seems to contradictexperience. Is it true? The experience of an adult lifetime spent in pastoral ministry at the grass roots could more plausibly make a case for the attraction Our Lady has for the married woman or the professional man. In thinking of those with an 321 322 / Review for Religious, Ma.y--June, 1987 enviably marked and integrated devotion to Our Lady, the male celibate, while there, is by no means primary. Mary means so much to so many, far beyond the few who, it is suggested, see in her particularly a safe, sex-ually taboo womanly image. A lifetime could be spent in a Catholic com-munity without ever meeting many of that particular group, though one would certainly find genuine devotion to Our Lady. Too, contemporary novelists and journalists notwithstanding, genuine devotion to her from the male celibate has surely stronger ties than sexual security. It is a Catholic thing, not a psychological need. It is of the faith. Again, does everyday devotion to Our Lady really express itself like that? Is it mainly a popular image useful for meeting a psychological need? Whether it be the assembly line, down-market product of "repository art,'" or-the faith-aesthetic creation of a Giotto, the Christian can distinguish between the person and the product. The picture or image can focus atten, tion, and there are psychological overtones in every glimpse of Our Lady, since every individual carries more meaning than he or she knows. Mary may transform whomever and whatever she is introduced to in the context of Christian devotion. She creates her own climate in the generations con-sidering her ,blessed among women. Yet traditionally and individually within the Church, the person of Mary is known and loved beyond all that art, theory and culture might suggest. Faith and the feminine are lovely, life-enhancing qualities. To speculate about them may have some point, but cannot be compared to seeing them in a particular woman. Here lies Our Lady's appeal. Her union with her Son as the Gospel reveals this, and her oneness with us in our humanity and faith are definitive. Many talented peop!e can perhaps paint an icon, but only the specially prepared, it is said, may paint its eyes. Insight is a gift. The scientist and man of contemporary culture who considers the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris exclusively in terms of its construction has literally not seen it. In ignoring God and her whose name it was given, he has lost the key which would unlock its meaning. This is much more than simply discarding a relative culture. The contemporary Catholic, attracted by the appeal of Our Lady, might say of her what the medieval mystic said of being gripped by the desire for contemplation: "You would run a thousand miles to talk about it with someone you know has really experienced it, and yet when you get there you can find nothing to say. ''-~ One need not be able to articulate what one knows. The common tongue of Lourdes~ Fatima, Banneux and "down-town anywhere," as far as Our Lady is concerned, is faith working through Mary and Our Reconciliation / 393 love. With the mother of the Word made flesh dwelling among us, we are in touch with someone rooted in humanity and faith. ,.- This, then, is why devotion to Our Lady in Catholic tradition is not something subjective, as a liking for sugar, but an objective reality whether we advert to it or not. It is not an arcane secret given to some esoteric group inhabiting an ethereal heaven. It cannot be when so many Christians' first real introduction to Mary is often in the world of the Christmas carol, where "earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone . " She is known by the company she keeps--like her Son, easily going to the houses of sinners to be with them. The consequent allegiance she has won in the Christian world is far from the preserve of a Gnostic group. She is real to so many. "~ray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death," is possibly the most common prayer of invocation in the Catholic world. We can, perhaps, understand something of her appeal if we consider the best which can be said of Christian life, and glimpse how genuinely she reflects it. The anonymous medieval author mentioned earlier suggests that the human spirit can safely work with God once it "has been checked by the three witnesses, Scripture, direction, and common sense.-3 We can usefully consider how Our Lady reflects authentic Christian living in the light of that rubric. A New Creation Although not to everyone's taste, our faith is incarnational and so, "God'was in Christ reconciling the world to himself" (2 Co 5: 19), says St. Paul. He goes on to explain that, as an apostle and preacher, he shares in the same office of reconciliation, since God "gave us the ministry of reconciliation . . . entrusting to us the message of reconciliation" (2 Co 5: 18-19). It follows, therefore, that "we are ambassadors for Christ, God making his appeal through us" (2 Co 5:20). Paul's mediatorial role is thus heavily emphasized in line after line. Such a mandate implies that who-ever is so commissioned as God's ambassador to help reconcile people to God must have received the enabling power of God to help him do it. He is, then, attuned to both God and man. His very person helps in binding people to God. "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). How is it done? It all depends on what is seen. Paul begins where the New Testament begins, with God first loving us in Christ. "For the love of Christ overwhelms us when we reflect." (2 Co 5: 14), he says, quite bowled over as he comes to an ever-wondering realization of what God has done for us in Christ. Christ, as one of us, lived, died and rose from a grave so that, in him, we might break out of our congenitally self-centered exis-tence which can even challenge the will of God, and so be able to "live 3~.4 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 no longer for themselves but for him [Christ] who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). Insofar as I am at one with the selfless Christ I can do the same. This vision of God in Christ can,provide the dynamic to draw me out of myself towards the will of God. Paul, a man among men, shackled, too, in the same self-centered world, and so wanting to be free of it, but seemingly powerless to change, now knows that this is possible in Christ. Paint the picture in the most somber colors, as bleak as can be, in a world where personal sin and selfishness can wreak havoc in epidemic proportions, and in it all Paul sees Christ. "For our sake, he [the Father] made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Co 5:21). Whatever depths of evil can be reached individually or collectively, God in Christ is there empowering those who would accept him to break free of its infernal power: "All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself" (2 Co 5:18). This Paul sees and is part of as Christ's ambassador, engaged in reconciling his world to God. So deep is this view of reality that Paul sees it as something wholly new, not just a change or adaptation. "If anyone is in Christ he is a new creation; the old has passed away, behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:17). His center of reference now is God giving himself in Christ. The selfless Christ replaces the selfish Paul, as he breathes the invigorating air of one now free to live for God.He is still an imperfect man with partial vis~ion, but insofar as his lifeqs a response to God in Christ, he can only describe what is happening to him as a new creation. Ideally, he describes Chris-tian reality. His world has been recreated. Glorifying God If such a grasp of reality is true of Paul and the best of Christians, and true of us :all to a degree, it is, self-evidently, descriptive, too, of Our Lad~,. That vision is flawlessly realized in her. Sinless from her conception and now assumed into heaven, she is a new creation from the mind of God. So alive to God is she that she is alert to the implications of her being way beyond any experience of ours. She hungered for the will of God, so it became her food (see Lk 1:53). "Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your Word" (Lk 1:38) is the total response of the new creation. She is blessed, the Gospel maintains, because she believed and there-fore gave herself wholly to the Word of God. She is particularly blessed "among women, and blessed is the fruit of [her] womb" (Lk 1:42) as in her God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself. Her Son Jesus "will save his people from their sins" (Mt i:21). As the Word became Mary and Our Reconciliation / 325 flesh in her womb and in her life, having been welcomed in faith and love into her heart, her maternal being from first to last becomes part of the gift of her Son: "And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother"; "But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother's sister" (Mt 2:1 I, Jn 19:25). Only a mother, perhaps, could under-stand the give and take of that exchange over a lifetime. Mary, one with her Son at so many levels as the years went by, learned so much of life as he lived in and for his Father's will, and yet "he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51). The reflective Chris-tian, too, has assimilated much of the perplexity of life in oneness with the heart of Mary. When she stood with her crucified Son as his life ended in ag6ny, "Jesus saw his mother, and the disciple whom he loved standing near" (Jn 19:26), and gave them to each other. Far from seeing this as a son tying up loose ends as best he could--his use of the word woman sug-gests more than a domestic arrangement--generations have felt the weight of those words from the Cross, and have gladly accepted the relationship, taking ourLady into their own homes. She is not then seen as just a type or evocative image of yesterday. Her appeal is of today and tomorrow, as her reconciling presence helps Christians to welcome and live the appeal of the Gospel in the Church. Admittedly these Gospel glimpses of Mary are or~ly straws in the wind, but many in the Church have loved the way the wind was blowing. The Pauline sketch of reconciliation in Second Corinthians outlined earlier, can become real in her person. This is especially true of those who could never read St. Paul, nor perhaps even pronounce the word "reconciliation." She radiates Christ, invariably generating the wonder and pleasur6 of Elizabeth's welcome as Mary hurried to her door: "And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" (Lk 1:43). "Mother of my Lord" is, in the context, a new creation in Christ, ideally and providentially there to help reconcile us to God. Her heaven, too, is being spent doing good upon earth. DirectionmWhat Do the Saintlike Advise? Given that Our Lady, because of who she is in the providence of God, mediates God in Christ to us through her feminine, reconciling presence, we can reinforce that insight by continuing to take the advice of an English mystic and seek direction. What did those with the clearest Christian insight advise? What did the saints andsaintlike do? Perhaps we can glance at Julian of Norwich who, in her fourteenth-century hermitage, has distilled 396 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 sufficient insight to be found today on contemporary bookshelves as a best-selling paperback. Julian tlad asked for a bodily vision of Our Lady. She was never given one, but "when Jesus said: 'Do you wish to see her?" it seemed to me that I had the greatest delight that he could have given me in this spiritual vision of her which he gave me.-4 Delight, of course, is characteristic of Julian's understanding of the Faith, and she finds Our Lady delightful. She is enthralled by this God-given insight, and clear as to its implications: "And so he [Jesus] wishes it to be known that all who take delight in him should take delight in her and in the delight that he has in her and she in him." There is no suggestion here of tension, division or embarrassment. It is all so perfectly natural. Julian's understanding of the Faith, like St. Paul's, centers on Godwin Christ reconciling the world to himself through the cross. So suffused is it by the love of God--Julian really had grasped Paul's insight--that she can only delight in what God is doing. Responding as she does to Our Lady, she believes that she is sharing in Christ's delight in his mother and in hers in him. "For after myself [Jesus] she is the greatest ~joy that I could show you, and the greatest delight and honor to me." Far from seeing any contradiction or distraction in so honoring Our Lady, Julian sees it as the express will of Christ. One might reasonably expect this, as the relationship echoes the best in human nature as well as suggesting the hundredfold of all who are at one with God. Whenever delight is experienced, the whole person is marked, together with a~wish that everyone could see it, coupled with sad-ness and incomprehension if the delight cannot be shared. Julian, a new creation in Christ, savoring with an immediacy given to few his reconciling presence, sees Mary as part of the treasure to be found in Christ. Mary, for her, is not tacked on in a moment of misguided devotion, but rather soldered on by the love and will of God, intrinsically, if subordinately, part of the reconciliation found in Christ. In Mary she sees herself and all of us, "as if he [Jesus] said, do you wish to see in her how you are loved? It is for love of you that I have made her so exalted, so noble, so honorable; and this delights me. And I wish it' to°delight you." Maryqs no shadow across the face of Christ, but a further means of shar-ing delight in what God is doing in Christ. As one in Christ we may savor this, too, and insofar as we can see just how much we are loved in her, enjoy a comforting glimpse of our present and future status. It is not without interest that in the shorter text of Julian's "Revela-tions," believed to have been written some twenty years before the longer Mary and Our Reconciliation /327 text we have been using, she adds, after seeing Christ more gloriously than she had yet realized, "In this I was taught that every contemplative soul to whom it is given to look and seek, will see Mary and pass on to God through contemplation.-5 As always, in Julian the tone is uniform and the perspective unforced, and her faith is so alive in her belief that attachment to Our Lady will inevitably bring us to its source in God. Mary herself effects the transition, reconciling to God whoever is open to h~r influence. ~ It is said that, increasingly, women find less and less in Our Lady "as women discover themselves as less passive than Mary is made to appear in the gospels.",° They therefore look for other models. Women can, of course, speak for themselves, but as regards passivity in the gospels, it is useful to remember that the biblical "divine passive" is often just a passive tense serving to emphasize the wholly present activity of God. So, for exam-ple, Paul speaks of Christ, "who for their sake, died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15). God in Christ is not molding plasticine. The death and resurrection of Christ is not the behavior of a mechanic using an inert tool, but God's response to a life actively given to his will, even to accepting death in his name. The passive tense implies an active God and willing human Cooperation, and so as Paul said of the process of reconciliation, "All this is from God" (2 Co 5:18). So, too, when Julian speaks of those "to whom it is given to look and to seek," far from indicating lack of initiative in a passive recipient, she is speaking of someone alert and alive, empowered by the driving Spirit of God:. Motherhood strikes one as possibly the least passive of all vocations, especially as glimpsed in Mary's life in the gospels. She is so attractive and influential today simply because whatever God said she did in'faith. Does anyone really believe that banner headlines in a newspaper or a pic-ture on the cover of Time magazine are the measure of lasting influence? With so much left unsaid in the gosPels, it may well be'that the feminine, creative, nourishing and responsive qualities of Mary are what God has valued in her. Without these, people wither and personal relations are bleak. The old advice is still sound: "Do not teach [God] his business. Let him be. He has enough might, skill and goodwill to do the best for you and for all who love him.''7 Julian is always concerned for her "fellow-Christians," and her delight in the Faith is tangible, though she, too, lived in a socially horrific age. Calm self-possession is her keynote, never raising her voice. There is none of the stress that takes so many women today to the bottle or drugs, the counselor or the hospital. So many are living lives of quiet desperation, while others are teetering on the edge of despair. She writes out of con- Review for Religious, ~May--June, 1987 cern, with the simplicity of wisdom reflecting what she sees in faith. Her teaching of the natural delight of mother and son, and Christ's desire that we share in it, since we see just how much we are loved by God .in her, is surely, "simple, courteous, joyful.''8 Her guidance is at one with so much that is good in the Church. Common Sense God was in Christ recon~ciiing the world to himself. Those closest to him are effective mediators of his presen.ce. Clearly, "Paul, an apostle-- not from men or through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father" (Ga l:l), is superbly placed, but the origin of that call is valid, too, for Our Lady: Immaculately~conceived, bringing Christ into the world, raising him, beside him as he died, praying in the Church then, and now within the Church gloriously assumed into heaven, common sense would suggest that such a woman cannot but help in reconciling us to God. "This is only what sanctified common sense would expect: that God should keep safe all who for love of him forsake themselves, indifferent to their Own welfare.-9 The safety that is now hers she wants to be ours, and almost instinctively the Catholic faithful have felt this. In view of who she ~is in the providence of God, generations have opened themselves to her influ-ence in an often very unsafe world. G.K. Chesterton emphasized this when he told of the reaction of two eminent nineteenth.century Victorians to news of the proclamation of Our Lady's Immaculate Conception. Prince Albert was the husband of the leg-endary Queen Victoria who gave her name to an era, .and W.E. Gladstone was one of the outstaffding political figures of the age. If Chesterton is to be believed, the proposed declaration by the pope of Our Lady's Immac-ulate Conception was greeted with indecent hilarity by the former and with grief by the latter, as each in his own way saw in it the sign of the immi-nent downfall of Catholic. Christianity. Both were agreed that it would be unpopular. Albert and Gladstone, who both worked conscientiously for the poor, "understood so little of what that crown and image really meant to millions of ordinary people . Yet the applewoman did not dash madly out of church; seamstresses in garrets did not dash their little images ,of Mary to the ground, on learning that she was named Immaculate."~° Chesterton then speak~ of the first appearance of Our Lady at Lourdes some four years later. While the influential and educated still puzzled, "little knots of poor peasants began to gather round a strange, starved child before a crack in the rocks from whence was to spring a strange stream and almost a new city; the rocks she had heard resound with a voice crying, 'I am the Immaculate Conception.' " Did Albert and Gladstone~ men of Mary and Our Reconciliation / 329 integrity, even remotely approach the influence for good with ordinary people that is associated with the name Bernadette Soubirous? Shrines such. as Lourdes and private revelations such as Julian's are not to be considered as though from St. Paul and the gospels. Yet as a fact of life within the Church and with the approval of the Church, such places and similar insights undeniably have helped reconcile so many from every walk of life to God. In the light of Mary's Immaculate Conception each one of us is handicapped and in need, and she has particular appeal for those who are aware of their need. Here, especially, her faith and her fem-ininity are found so attractive, as she is known to be present now in imag-inative sympathy. In the circumstances, common sense would direct us to her company. Jimmy Durante used to celebrate that he was "the guy who found the lost chord." Unhappily, in the same breath, he had to admit that he had lost it again! It is given to few to be truly original. Life, genes, language, skills, food--virtually everything of consequence that has made us what we are have been mediated to us by others. It is the human condition, and it is the supernatural condition. Even the insights of a St. Paul are, under God, largely the result of an interchange, often troubled, between himself and his people. "The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the children's teeth are set on edge," may not be valid in terms of personal guilt, but it is true in terms of personal influence. Human beings transmit life and superb medical care, as well as AIDS and drug-dependent babies. Often the fruits of the Spirit are mediated through others as are the sins of the flesh. We all have reason to thank God for some of the people we have met as well as to regret the influence of others. As mediated experience is a fact of life for good or ill, common sense; would suggest that nothing but good can come from opening ourselves to Our Lady's influence. Her selfless, perceptive being, one person in Christ with ourselves, radiates God as she delights in the Lord her Savior. What-ever life did to her, "Mary kept all these things, pondering them in her heart" (Lk 2:19). Open to her reconciling influence, we too can assimilate experience, responding to God's presence in a sacramental world. Finally, common sense would especially commend that religious, who "ought to be poor in both fact and spirit" (Perfectae Caritatis 13), con-sider Our Lady's guidance in the search to be truly reconciled to God. She sees further and more clearly than any other guide in the Church, and her encouraging presence is always here. With increasing affluence, or possi-bly insensitivity, numbers of religious travel far looking for enlightenment. It is not wrong of course, but there does seem to be an innate contradic- 330 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 tion in the context of poverty when, for example, the search may take a religious to an a~hram in India, the deserts of Israel or California, or to the monasteries of Japan, Whatever insight is gained may be at the cost of a threadbare vow of poverty. Our Lady once appeared so nondescript as not to merit a first glance when she came with the offering of .the poor. Yet to the one truly enlight-ened by the Holy Spirit she was seen to be carrying in her arms "a light for revelation to the Gentiles" (Lk 2:32). She still reflects that same light now wherever we are in Christ. NOTES ~ M. Furlong, "The Power of,Images," The Way, October 1986, p. 299. 2 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter II, in The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works, Penguin Books, 1978. 3 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 4 Julian of Norwich, Showings, Chapter 215, tr. E. C011edg~ and J. Walsh, Paulist Press, New York, 1978. All quotations are from Chapter 25 of this edition. 5 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 6 M o Furlong, op. cit., p. 299. 7 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 10. 8 Julian of Norwich, op. cit., short text, Chapter 13. 9 The Epistle of Privy Counsel, Chapter 6. ~0GoK. Chesterton, The Strange Talk of Two Victorians, and The Common Man, Sheed and Ward, 1950. Each quotation is from this essay. Brothers in the Church: A Vocational Reflection William Mann, F.S.C. Brother Mann is in his eighth year as a Formation Counselor for the Brothers of the Christian Schools. He had also served as Assistant Provincial for Formation (1979- 1984) and Director of Novices up to the present. He may be, addressed at: Christian Brothers; 83 West Lake Street: Skaneateles, New York 13152. ,~ few years ago, I volunteered to work at a Soup kitchen in Rhode Island. As my first experience of working with the street poor, it was both diffi-cult and challenging. Most of the time, I was afraid; and my fear kept me washing dishes and away from the people. I was attempting to make my contribution and avoid contact at the same time. On more courageous days, I would visit the dining room to sit and talk with the guests. Occasionally, I ventured, into the lounge to socialize after a meal. On one particularly hot day, a six-year-old child walked over to me, climbed into my lap, and using a shredded and badly soiled napkin wiped the perspiration from my forehead. He kissed my cheek, hugged me, and moved my heart. So para-lyzed by my own fears that I found it difficult to offer hospitality, this poor child reached out and offered me love. The story of my encounter with this young boy in a soup kitchen high-lights four key aspects of the vocation of Brother: I) ours is primarily a ministry of example; 2) our ministry on behalf of the Gospel and on behalf of the sanctification of others r~quires our own radical transformation; 3) those to whom we minister will be the instruments of our own conversion; and 4) 9urs is, therefore, primarily a ministry of reciprocity and mutuality. At the time that this incident occurred, I was teaching English and reli-gion in a coed secondary school. "Example makes a much greater 331 339 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 impression on the mind and heart than words."~ If I wanted my students to take seriously the admonition of Jesus to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and visit the imprisoned, then I knew that I was going to have to put those words into action myself. In twenty-two years as a Brother of the Christian Schools, I can hon-estly say that I have attempted to put my life at the service of the Gospel. As teacher, activity moderator, dormitory supervisor, school administrator, retreat director, and now formation counselor, I have worked consistently at proclaiming the Gospel by word and by example. Often this has been a humbling experience. "We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). My entire life as a vowed religious brother is a sincere, and yet sometimes inadequate, attempt to put the Gospel into practice. Accompanying those students each Wednesday to the soup kitchen was just one concrete instance of living out this commitment. "Your zeal for the children under your guidance would be very imperfect, if you expressed it only in teaching them; it will only become perfect if you practice yourself what you are teaching them. ''~- The example of Chris-tianity lived is what "brother-ing" is all about. Although religious brothers have traditionally been identified by the work we do (teacher, health practitioner, parish assistant, or manual laborer), I contend that our particular ministry, while significant in terms of individual congregations, is not of the essence of our vocation in the Church. It is the choice to be called "brother" which has always pinpointed our key contribution. Our very existence as brothers announces the new world order ushered in by Christ. We understand ourselves to be among those chosen by God "long ago and intended to become true ima.ges of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers [and sisters]" (Rm 8:29). The Scriptures tirge us to "love our neighbor as ourself" (Mt 22:39). That child reached out to me in love; and I believe that, in his person, Jesus Christ reached out to me and reminded me that, since God is my Father, all of us are'brothers and sisters. That young child reminded me that I was his brother, and challenged me to accept the people around me and not to get caught up in the differences of age, class, or color. He reminded me that God intends that we should love one another and that we should let go of the prejudices, defenses, fears, and barriers that hold us back from truly being his children, brothers and sisters of one another. This very ministry in which I was engaged on behalf of others was requiring that I °Brothers in the Church / 333 change. I was being challenged to live more fully the message that I preached. I was at the soup kitchen on this particular day precisely because I was trying to educate my students to share the gifts and the blessings of their own lives with those less fortunate. However, Jesus used the opportunity to challenge me to see him among the poor. This is the second key aspect of the vocation of brother; our consecration as brothers commits us to a life of transformation. Loving Jesus always means being changed. I wanted to help my students; Jesus chose to help me be more open to receiving the blessing the poor could be in my life. I went to the soup kitchen hoping to embody the loving presence of Jesus in the world; I returned home having encountered Jesus' loving presence in another. Initially, it seemed ironic that I was challenged to live the Gospel more wholeheartedly by the very people for whom I was attempting to be its proclamation. This was, however, the very heart of the teaching of St~ John Baptist DeLaSalle on what it means to be a brother. Furthermore, this was not only DeLaSalle's teaching; it was his own experience. We minister to others, but they call us to holiness. St. John Baptist DeLaSalle founded the Brothers of-the Christian Schools in France in 1679 to give a Christian education to the children of the working class and the poor. By 1682, however, the Society of the Chris-tian Schools was threatened with collapse. DeLaSalle urged his first di~cj-. pies to trust in Providence. As with the birds of the air and the lilies of the field, God would provide (Mt 6:25-30). The brothers challenged .DeLaSalle's right to say these things. He still had great family weal~l~ and a prestigious position as Canon of the Cathedral of Reims. What did he know of trusting in Divine Providence? If the schools collapsed, he would be safe. In his attempt to minister to the brothers, DeLaSalle hims61f was called' to holiness. He attempted to announce the Gospel to them; they challenged tiimto a fuller living of the Gospel. The first biographers report that so complete was his devotion tO the brothers and to the foundation of the Christian Schools that he heard in their challerlge the invitation of Jesus to take the Gospel more seriously, resign his Canonry, and distribute his wealth among the poor.3 Christ continues to speak to the brother through his disciples. If" we open our eyes and our hearts, we will continue to hear in them the invita-tion to draw closer to God. I believe that~this is what DeLaSalle meant when he wrote: "You can be assured that if you act this way [with an ardent zeal] for their salvation, God himself will take responsibility for yours."4 He was not speaking here of some kind of mysterious and passive 334 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 transformation. He was articulating his own experience. In proclaiming the Gospel to others, the Gospel lays claim on our own hearts. God uses the people and the situations of our lives to evangelize us. Through them and for the sake of the Gospel, God gradually refashions us into the image of his Son. Over and over again, the people and the situations of my life have pro-vided the opportunity to draw closer to Christ. There have been many times in my life when Jesus has asked me to recognize him and to love him in another person. Sometimes that person has been someone for whom I cared deeply; at times, that person has been a complete stranger. What has so often struck me in the Gospel has been the ability of Jesus to be open to all kinds of people in so many different situations. He saw in every person he met a reflection of his Father, a new and unique and beautiful side of God that could be seen in no other person or in no other place on this earth. I believe that Jesus calls us to open our eyes and our hearts to him as he continues to show himself to us in one another. Hence, ours is a ministry marked by reciprocity and mutuality. "They are a letter which Christ dictates to you, which you write each day in their hearts, not with ink, but by the Spiri! of the living God.-5 In inviting others to holiness, our own lives are opened to holiness. Those to whom we min-ister facilitate the capturing by the Gospel of our own hearts. I more and more suspect that this is the key aspect of the vocation of brother. In our openness to the evangelical dimension of everyday life, we provide our clearest witness on behalf of the Gospel. What greater example can be given than that I allow another to become the instrument of my own con-version to a fuller living of Gospel values? Jesus Christ is the "pearl of great price" (Mt 13: 44-46), and I ardently .desire to "share Jesus with those who have been entrusted to my care. We brothers desire to share "the treasure we have found hidden in the field of our own lives. ,,6 Our world is already bombarded with empty and meaningless words. What is needed are people who not only speak of Jesus but who act as followers of Jesus. What is needed are people who follow him so wholeheartedly that they become new incarnations of God's loving presence in the world. This is what I believe the vocation of brother is all about; this is what I am trying to do with my life---do this because I.believe this is what God Wants me to do. Furthermore, I do it because I believe that there are millions of people on our planet today~some Chris-tians, some Jews and Moslems, som6 far away, but very many are young Americans who look,to see if anyone any longer takes Jesus Christ seri- Brothers" in the Church / 335 ously. What hangs in the balance is the very credibility of the Gospel itself: 7 St. Paul assures us that the wisdom of this world is not the wisdom of God (I Co 3~!9); and I do not doubt that, in the face of a modern' Amer-ican society that encourages and fosters a pursuit of pleasure, possessions, and self-interest,8 it is perceived by many as foolhardy to be willing to want God to be more important than anything else in this world, and courageous enough to take the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience. Yet we broth-ers are bold enough to believe that our own radical, personal conversion to Gospel values really has the potential to make a difference in the lives of those around us. We believe that this is the gift which Jesus Christ intends us to be for his Church. As DeLaSalle writes: "Be convinced of what St. Paul says, that you plant and water the seed, but it is God through Jesus Christ who makes it grow, that he is the one who brings your work to fulfillment?. ~ Earnestly ask him to make his Spirit come alive in you, since he has chosen you to do his work.-9 NOTES ~ John Baptist DeLaSalle, Meditations for the Time of Retreat, trans. Augustine Loes (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1975), p. 94] 2 DeLaSalle, p. 80~ 3 John Baptist Blain, The Life. of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. Richard Arnandez (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1982), Vol. I, Book I, pp. 81-84; Eli Maillefer, The Life of John Baptist DeLaSalle, trans. William Quinn (Winona, Minnesota: St. Mary's College Press, 1963), pp. 27-28. 4 DeLaSalle, p. 91. 5 DeLaSalle, p. 54. 6 Jose Pablo Basterrechea, "Address of the Superior General to the Regional Convoca-tion of the Brothers of the Christian Schools" (Mgraga, California: Regional Convoca-tion, 1984). 7 James Wallis, The Call to Conversion (S~in Francisco! Harper and Row, 1981); Pedro Arrupe, "What Is the Greatest Service Which Religious Can Give Today to Human-ity and to the Church?" Donum Dei No. 24 (1978). 8 John Kavanaugh, Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, ~981). 9 DeLaSalle, p. 56. ' Appropriate Formation Martin O'Reilly, C.F.C. Brother O'Reilly, Director:of Formation for his community in Liberia, previously wrote "Current Conceptions of Religious Formation: An Analysis"r (November/Dece,mbe.r issue, 1985). His address is: Christian Brothers; P.O. Box 297; Monrovia, Liberia; West Africa. When Captain Smith of the Titanic uttered the words, "The only ice around here, Sparks, is in my drink," he was displaying a characteristic common to most of us--skepticism. When many American and European religious hear of the great vocation boom within the develoPing churches and look at their own decreasing numbers and formation houses being turned into retreat centers and homes for the aged, they skeptically wonder: "How it is that so many young Africans and others are being attracted to living a life of community, prayer and service as religious?" When I returned to Liberia in 1982 after an absence of eight years, we still had no local brothers in our West African communities~espite erect-ing a novitiate building in 1975 and having made it clear toall and sundry that we were keen to welcome local candidates into our communities. As I write this article in 1987 we have, to date, eighteen Wes~ African mem-bers and a thriving candidacy.program. We have just missioned our first West African brothers to set up a new community to work among leprosy sufferers, and fully expect to open another community elsewhere in either Liberia or Sierra Leone during the coming year. It seems fantastic to many in our congregation that in the space of five years we have more novices and junior professed religious in West Africa than in many of our other pro-vinces combined together. When people ask me how it is, I usually tell 336 Appropridte Formation / 337 them that it is the Holy Spirit's work--and something called "Appropri-ate Formation." This article will be concerned with defining the meaning of a religious formation that is~rooted within a developing-church situation. I will be using categories and concepts normally associated with the development of appropriate technology in developing economic and social orders, and .'using them to map out a theory of religious formation that is ,appropri-ate" to this new wave of young religious that congregations throughout the developing world are beginning to welcome into their ranks. In the second part of the article I will outline some of the important issues that our own young West Africah members felt should be on the agenda for an appro-priate formation. Appropriate Formation: A Definition Appropriate formation involves the application of the principles of reli-gious life to concrete local situations. This means developing ways or "technologies" which can be defined as "replicable methods for solving community problems and developing the capacities of communities to achieve their own goals" (S.B. Fawcett, R.M. Mathews and R.K. Fletcher, "Some Promising Dimensions for Behavioral Community Tech-nology," Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 13, 1980). These authors propose that seven dimensions of a technology must be considered to ensure the appropriateness of the technology: - Effectiveness - Expense - Decentralization - Flexibility -Sustainability - Simplicity - Compatibility A new technology means anew way of.doing things for the people who use the technology or who are affected by its use. For any significant change in behavior or attitudes to persist and the technology to be effective, the rewards, satisfactions and achievements obtained have to clearly outweigh the efforts and difficulties involved. For this to happen in the area of religious formation, formators need to have a firm understanding of what are to be the intended outcomes, methods t6 be used, content to be consid-ered and evaluation procedures which will° make up their formation pro-gram. This will, of necessity, demand that'~i formator sit down with both professed members of the group a~d neophytes, and work out what real- 338 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 istic goals a formation community can set itself, what practical wfiys they can be realized, and their appropriateness evaluated at different stages of the formation program. Inexpensiveness is of'considerable importance in a context such as West Africa since cash incomes are generally low. If we expect r~ligious from such regions ,!o earn their own keep and to be credible followers of the "chaste, poor and obedient Christ" for their people, then their formation experience should~prepare them f6r this reality. The end values of religious life shouid"not be obscured by the trappings of a partiCular lifestyle that is alien to the majority of Candidates prior tO entering a religious com-munity. Decentralization means the application of technology at a local level rather than from a remote center. Local religious will need to assume full responsibility .for the living out of their commitment, and not look to over-seas generalates and provincialates for direction on every facet of their lives. They are "the people on the spot," and they need both the compe-tence and the confideqce to discern in what direction the Spirit is calling them. As far as possible, ~those in initial formation need to be shown that responsibility and accountability are intrinsic to religious life. If candidates are not willing to grow in these areas, then there is no place for them 4n a religious community. If formation technologies are not flexible there is. little chance that people will be prepared to handle the gigantic social and pastora, I devel-opments that are taking place in so many parts of the world. There has to be a clear distinction made during religious formation between the end values and the means values of religious life. The end values are not negotiable, but the means ones can be redefined in the light of new insights among the members and the needs of the Church and of society. A flex-ible dimension in religious formation will concern itself with presenting a range of options to cope with specific concerns, and will include guide-lines for Change according to the felt needs of the group in formation. A frequent concern of formation personnel is that many young reli-gious, after having passed through the novitiate, experience a painful regression to the state they were in prior to entering the community. It is as though no significant personal or spiritual development had taken place. Often the cause~of this is because the technology, or way of being a reli-gious, is not sustainable: at the local community level. They leave the novitiate with either unreal expectations of what religious life will be,, and are disillusioned with what they find to be t.he reality~ or they flounder with- 6ut ihe strong guiding hand of a r~ligious specifically missioned to help Appropriate Formation / 339 them overcome every hurdle they may encounter. A gradualist strategy is needed during formation wherein "stretch-outs" are provided so as to allow young religious to know what it means to live, pray and work in a typical community of the congregation. Here they can focus on the con-crete problems of religious life rather than on the long range goal-setting which makes up so much of the agenda of religious formation. A new technology must be simple and comprehensible enough to be understood by its potential users. Religious formators will need to acknowl-edge the "multi-path" approach when dealing with candidates coming from differing social, economic and educational and faith backgrounds. There. have to be features of a formation program that provide for acceler-ation when goals are realized and values interiorized, and a locking-in system that prevents regression from gains obtained. Finally, any new technology must fit into the community or society at large. To be compatible with the surroundings from which the candidates are comirig and in which their religious formation is taking place, the new technology must be seen to work. It must be seen to provide religious men and women whose lifestyle is clearly valued and appreciated by the immedi-ate society. If religious life is seen as wholly meaningless by those around, it is difficult to see how an individual can commit himself or herself unreservedly to such a vocation. Appropriate Formation: An Agenda I want to turn now to a consideration of what are some of the problems facing young local religious. I shall outline these issues within the frame-work of the three end values of religious life---community, prayer and ser-vice. To identify what are the problems our young religious will have to confront is the necessary first step towards devising a formation program appropriate to the people and situation in which religious life will find a new beginning. Community. ~ The issue of where a person's primary loyalties lie---either with one's extended family or with the community--is a source of tension for most local religious at one stage.or another of their lives. Appropriate formation must tackle this area sensitively but una.mbiguously: "No, a community cannot take on the responsibility of supporting and educating younger mem-bers of a local religious' family; but yes, a community will help in a crisis or an emergency as best as it can." Formal membership in a religious.con-gregation must broaden a person's "in" group to .those past and living mem-bers of the congregation around the world. If the extended family holds 340 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 the central loyalties of the young religious, then eventually a clash will come and he or she will be the casualty. It is hard to be a citizen of two worlds! Unless serious efforts are made to tackle the issue where a person's identity and sense of belonging lie, feelings of inauthenticity may arise within the young religious, and eventually may lead to their departure from the community. Likewise, with the question of tribal or national bonds, while encour-aging people to be proud of their heritage, those distinctions which blur the call of a person to see everyone as his or her brother or sister in Christ, must be faced up to during the period of initial formation. Tribalism, mean-ing the preference for one's own tribe over national interests, is a growing political concern in post-colonial Africa. Local religious can easily fall into a tribal mentality with disastrous consequences for community living. Going against tribalism is no easy thing and young religious need to be under no illusion that to have respect for each person's tribal identity is one of the primary signs that they can give to their people of the inclusive nature of the kingdom of God. Many of those who apply for membership in religious communities in developing countries carry with them stories of how they had to struggle against all odds to complete their schooling and perhaps to start in a career. This experience of being a "survivor," when so many of their friends gave up along the road, can lead some to evaluate any or every facet of religious life in terms of what they can get materially from the community--instead of what they can give to the community. Every formation community fairly exudes the idea that there are those already in the community (i,e., they own the house, the bedsheets and the marmalade), and those who wish to join the community. This is a classic "donor-receiver" situation. Usually it takes years for a religious to believe that the house and community pos-sessions are not "theirs" but "ours." In a developing-country situation this "donor-receiver" mentality can persist far longer when the professed religious are white and those joining the community are black. Obviously, religious life means old and young, black and white--or ~,hatever other contrasts a person cares to make between people--all attempting to live in harmony together. This is our" witness of the kingdom and the means by which we build up the Church. For that to happen, there has to be a basic leveling among the members of the community. Formators need to devise ways in which local religious can "own," not only the community goods, but the core values at the heart of the community. Prayer Appropriate Formation / 341 . Much of religious formation, in the spiritual domain, is concerned with deepening a person's,capacity for, and appreciation of, a "grace-full" rela-tionship with Jesus. This is a task for religious formators worldwide, but in my experience, .those working in countries with a strong animist tradi-tion have added challenges. The first one is helping young religious see that prayer, to be real; must be a constant part 6f a person's life. Just praying when the community decides to pray in common is not enough. When prayer is simply a duty expected of one by others, then the shallowness of a person's prayer~life will be revealed when serious vocational problems arise and a ~oung~reli-gious doesn't really believe that there is a God who is ready to love, under~ stand and forgive. In my experience of countries with a strong animist tra-dition, God is more than likely to be feared rather than loved, .and for-giveness is at a price. Coupled to the above challenge is that of helping local candidates real-ize that the form and structure of prayer are not ends in themselves. They are only aids to developing an'awareness of God in ~ne's life and in encour-aging prayerful living. The tendency in the animist tradition to overstress the ma,.gical nature of prayer can lead to a marked separation ~of the sacred and the secular, andah inability to make the "stuff Of daily living" the quarry for one's own prayer. A third challenge I believe formators can have is helping young reli-gious recognize that their own people's spiritual heritage can provide them with stepping stones to discover and value the face of God in Jesus. They will need a strong, personal faith to be able to discern authentically the pres- 6nee of God in their people's faith history, and a vision of the Church as embracing all peoples and cultures, as acknowledging and respecting the I,ocal character of each people. Service In many countries where the Church is newly rooted, much is made of a person's final profession or ordination--I suppose because local reli-gious and priests are still a rarity in many places. Sadly, perhaps, not a few young men and women leave the altar as newly professed or ordained with a very exalted view of themselves. They go on mission with a mentality, more suited to starting a career than a vocation. We need a model of the "servant" Church as never before in devel-oping countries. Otherwise the cr6"dibility and respect which the first mis-sionaries earned from the people will vanish. If there are not local men and women prepared to minister with total conviction and compassion to the marginalized of their society,, then things do not look well for the future. 349 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that there are people amongst those seeking to follow "the chaste, poor and obedient Christ" who have the dynamism and selflessness of those first missionaries. But they will need every encouragement and incen-tive to rise above merely identifying with the better educated and affluent members of their society. Appropriate format.ion will need to stress the distinction between a career and a vocation, and to present clearly and simpl~, the model of Jesus who had "nowhere to lay his head," who could welcome all and who was wholly caught up in doing the will of his Father. Conclusion Thi~ article has concerned itself with indicating dimensions of a for-mation program that must be appropriate to the persons it serves and to the so(iety in which such people will minister. I have pointgd out some of the priorities I feel that formators involved in develpping-church situations need to take note of and to put.on their formation agenda. To those who are skep-tical concerning the future of religious life in the. world today, let me end wiih a quote from Samuel Beckett: "He sat with me in the dark room of my doubt and lit a candle." During my five years of close involvement with religious forma_tion in West Africa, I have seen that candle glowing, and my hope is that religious throughout the world will, like me, grow in certainty by its light. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions land II by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. Growth Producing Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation Donna Marie Wilhelm, S.N.D. Since writing this article, Sister Donna Marie has been transferred to Sarasota's Cardi-nal Mooney High School where she now teaches and is local superior. She may be addressed at 4004 Fruitville Road; Sarasota, Florida 33582. Liberal, conservative; masculine, feminine; introvert, extrovert; Ignatian, Franciscan; adjectives--"labels" that describe experience, that are valu-able as long as they do not become restrictive in their attempt to'describe, as long as they do not bind rather than free us for growth and understand-ing. These labels are set up in tension as opposites, or perhaps better as complements. Their value is not so much in setting persons in opposition to one another, but in directing them to wholeness of vision. They provide for an expression of tension that can lead to healthy growth and a more com-plete outlook on life and experience. I believe that formation, too, is about tension--healthy tension--that is inherent in the process itself. Tensions exist throughout the period of initial formation with varying emphases and with differing intensities. This is particularly true in the pre-novitiate period. One of the dangers in the beginning of the formation process is that some individuals, once they begin to live in a community setting, may live out of a sense of finality that says, "I have made my decision. This is where God wants me. Just tell me what to do in order to be a good Sister of Notre Dame (or Franciscan or whatever) and I will do it." A stance like this needs to be explored gently, and then laid to rest as a false and harmful presupposi-tion. 343 344 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 I believe that it is more accurate to define vocation as a verb rather than a noun, as E.F. O'Doherty has suggested in The Psychology of Vocation. A vocation is not something that I "have"; it is a possibility for me to "become." Implied in this kind of definition is the reality that following a particular vocation involves a repeated act of choosing. In the initial stages it involves decision-making that then becomes the raw material for an ongoing discernment process. For the remainder of this article I want to describe three of the tensions that I think are common to those who are new to the religious process: those in pre-novitiate. Since formation does not happen in a vacuum but in the context of community, community members and attitudes among members are very important in helping the individuals in formation to negotiate these tensions successfully. Child/Adult. Jean Vanier has said, "When people come into a community they are usually in a state where you can ask anything at all of them . People coming into community have a child's grace.''1 This stateof becoming "like a child" again i~ a result of a variety of factors: the initial joy and enthusiasm of any beginner; the "rush" that comes with "finally arriv-ing"; but perhaps most importantly there is a tremendous loss of the famil-iar for the newcomer. o Ray B(adbury in his book Dandelion Wine tells a story that points to the importance of the familiar, of the everyday. It is a story of two y, oung boys and their summer discoveries through everydayness. Doug, the older boy, decides to keep a record bf the summer's adventures in a yellow nickel tablet. In explaining his plan to his brother Tom, Doug begins: I'm going to divide the su.mmer up in two parts. First part of this tablet is titled: Rites and Ceremonies. The first root beer pop of the year. The first time of the year running barefoot in the grass. First time of the year almOst drowning in the lake. First watermelon. First mosquito. First har-vest of dandelions. Those are the things we do over and over and over and never think. Now here in the back, like I said, is Discoveries and Revelations or maybe Illuminations, that's a swell word, or Intuitions, okay? 'in other words you do an o!d familiar thing, like bottling dandelion wine and" you put that under Rites and Ceremonies. And then you think about it, and what you thinkr crazy or not, you put under Discoveries and Revelatiohs. Here's wha~ I got on the wine: Every time you bottle it, yo~u got .a whole chunk of 1928 put away, safe.2 Wh~t Bradbury recounts is in many ways similar t~ the dynamic of the familiar in our lives, the movement from the experience of the world.,gs Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 345 alien, through a sense of well-being, to an awakening to "otherness." Our first experience as children, or later in life as beginners in a religious for-mation process, is one of awe, dread, an overwhelming helplessness and powerlessness. As children, this sense of, anxiety is usually answered by our parents who provide a caring atmosphere in which we can experience some security. We need this sense of security and familiarity with persons, things and event~ in order to function in this world. This movement from helplessness'and powerlessness to security and familiarity is a "child to adult" movement. Being "at home" in our world is also essential to our spirituality. We need to be grounded in the familiar and the ordinary, since it is that grounding that gi'ves us a feeling of belonging, at homeness, security. And these experiences point to a deeper ground, ou~ groundedness in God in faith, hrpe and love. Our faith in God must be incarnated in our experience, and this happens as we reflect 6n the everyday occurrences where God touches our lives. If what is familiar and "everyday" in our lives is so important to our adulthood, to our functioning and to our grounding in God, then losing our"' sense of "at homeness" in our day-to-day living is a significant loss. It is this loss that brings us back to being like a child again, a child in an alien world. What takes place at the onset of the pre-novitiate is e~actly that: the loss of the familiar. "Familiar" in this context may mean different things for different individuals but for most it includes job, apartment, car, friends and family and a certain degree of indepepdence ih action and in decision-making. Loss of the familiar is often accompanied by a feeling that "I'm out of control," a feeling of helplessness in my new environment. In many candidates this is expressed by a loss of ability to do something as simple as balancing time, and that results in lost hours of sleep, cutting down on leisure and exercise to make up, loss of efficienqy on the job, in ministry or at school. Moving into a new place with new people requires a tremendous adjust-ment. It involves~a period of trying to determine what "the rules" are in this group .with whom I have chosen to live. It is a time of grieving for many losses. And it is a time that is often ac~companied by regression, the return to patterns of behavior that helped us to cope with an alien world when we were children. One of the problems in c?mmunity is that this regressive behavior can be very disconcerting to the "old-timers" unless they are aware of what is happening. It is a crucial period when the com-munity must offer support and understanding, but must carefully guard against giving a formula for a new identity too soon. As in any loss, the loss of what is familiar can break the newcomer open to another necessary 346 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 element of life,- the transcendent. The pain of this experience can be an invitation to the candidate to begin the process of lived discernment, of choosing his or her vocation in day-to-day life. A further difficulty.in community can occur if the purpose of this time of formation is not well understood. The heart of the pre-novitiate is built on the call to holiness that all Christians share. That call must be explored and deepened through gradual growth in self-awareness and developing nat~ ural gifts, in dealing with past losses and hurts, in deepening prayer and in learning the dynamics of community living. "Our candidates are older women," some community members say, "women with education, with work and life experience. Why do they need to spend a year or two in a pre-noyitiate process?" It is a very common mistake to look at a person's age, work experience, social skills and make a statement like "Why can't she just begin as a novice?" It is so important not to equate age absolutely with any given level of human maturity, of experience, of spiritual or pro-fessional development. Accompanying women, especially older ones has ¯ only confirmed my belief that each individual is composed of many com-plex variables, and the time spent at the beginning of the formation pro-cess is not "lost" but is essential to provide a confirmation of gifts, an accurate assessment of needs and limitations, and then time to allow the individual to begin to build a foundation for continuing discernment for the future. This is the purpose of the pre-novitiate as it is described in Essen-tial Eletnents. It is the period "in which the genuineness of the call is iden-tified as far as possible . -3 It is a time of growth, not stagnation. Being In/Being Out Another significant area of tension for those in the pre-novitiate pro-cess is the tension that is created by not being a "real" member of the congregation, by hot even, strictly speaking, being a "religious," while living in a house of the congregation with its real members, more or less according to their manner of life. One of the major emphases in the doc-uments dealing with formation that have been published since Vatican Coun-cil II is that of the concept of gradual transition, that is, the idea that the mok, ement from the previous lifestyle to the life of religious consecration should be a gradual, not an abrupt one, and that it involve a time of transi-tion rather than of drastic or dramatic change. Congregations have made many and varied efforts in this diri~ction. They have developed vocation-awareness activities that reach into the elementary schools, retreats and overnight experiences for high school stu-dents, and live-in programs for those who hre seriously considering the option of religious life.-'Many congregations have begun nonresident affil- Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation 347 iate programs to give interested men or women an even closer experience of their life. These efforts are all for the sake of gradual acquaintance and transi-tion, find they are invaluable. They need to be carried into the period of pre-novitiate as well. One way to accomPlish this is to establish the pre-novitiate community as an "in-between" community as Vanier cails it in his book Community and Growth. IdeallY this community will be com-posed of the candidates, the director ahd several oth,er professed members who represent different mir~istries. I am not speaking here of simply moving the candidates and director into an established local community-- even though in fact this is what may happen. The difference is that the pri-mary purpose for the existence of the "in-between" community is to pro-vide a formative environment for the candidates. Such a community pro-vides an environment which facilitates the transition of the individual from being an independent lay man or woman to being incorporated as a com-munity member, and finally to becoming a committed member of this specific community and congregation~. It must, be an environment that encourages reflective living, where acceptance is~not based on conformity. What is of primary significance at this stage is to foster human growth and a sense of responsibility towards the life, not to provide a cozy escape from decision-making or a neat set of dos and don'ts. Such a community will provide a rhythm of life that is the "bare bones" for continued discernment; a rhythm of reflection, silence and prayer. It must give the time for candidates to participate in courses or group direction that con-tinue, to develop knowledge of the faith and of the spiritual life. Finally it will provide opportunities for some type of initial exposure to the ministries of the congregation and for some connectedness with the local Church. The individual who +omes to a pre-novitiate experience has made a definite decision and commitment, and so has the congregation ~vhich he or she has joined. Being "in-b~tween" does not water down that commit-ment or mitigate the decision. Rather it gives the space f~)r the candidate" to do two very important things: t~) learn hoW to live in community arid to adjust significant relationships to his or her new lifestyle. These issues are important ones in becoming a member of any community, not just a religious congregation. Outlining the elements in "learning" community is simple. Living them is a tremendous challenge. At the very beginning, a knowledge of the stages in the growth Of a community is essential, as is an awareness of some basic dynamics that can occur. I have found the material provided 3till / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 by Hammet and Soefield in their book Inside Christian Community extremely helpful in these areas. Communication and dealingwith conflict are two other key issues. I believe that the most difficult of any of these is conflict management. This is true not only for the newcomer, but for most of us who have lived in religious communities for years. Each time I am involved in a workshop on this topic with our candidates I am aware of how much more I must learn. It is so iinportant to be patient, firm, and to provide supportive gui.d:~ ance in this area. Above all, experienced community members must not fall into the trap of becoming the rescuer between two candidates or a can-didate and another community member who may have taken on the roles of victim ancl persecutor in regard to each other. Being willing to sit down and role-play situations or conversations is a valuable tool here. In sum, the skills of conflict management must be practiced, our limitations and weakness shared, if growth is to occur. ~ The "in-between" climate of the pre-novitiate community also pro-vides the space necessary for the candidates to adjust significant relation-ships in their lives. This is particularly important for candidates who come with a broad base of family, friends and work-related contacts. It takes time and the freedom to move in and out of community to make the decisions necessary to maintain some relationships, to let go of others', and to invest in new ones within the community or in a ministerial setting. This is no small task because it involves community members who can allow for free-dom but also who, through modeling and guidance, can gradually intro-duce the candidates into the obligations and time commitments that com-munity life can and must of its very nature demand. Providing opportunities for the community to get to know the family and friends of the candidate can be extremely helpful and enrichi.n.g for both. Visiting, inviting family members to share in celebrations, and other casual contacts are,just a few ways to do this. Again, grow,th must be suppprted by u,nderstanding, hon-esty, openness in dialogue, and willingness to search together for the best decisions. In these areas, too, we are dealing with choosing a lifestyle, with making decisions that are more and more--or less and less-~consonant with one particular life direction rather than another. Fitting In/Impacting For Change A newcomer to any group can be expected to ask the question, "What d6,.I have to do to fit in here, to be one of you?" He or she may also say "I have talents, gifts, a vision to offer that may call for some changes in our group. Will they be acce.pted?" The tension between the desire to "fit in" and the need to influence toward change is born in these questions. Tensions in Pre-Novitiate Formation / 349 There is, I believe, a very real sense in which a candidate in any religious congregation must "fit" if not "fit in." In an attempt to be "liberated" and "open" to everything, I think we sometimes try to deny the truth of that. Our congregations do .have living traditions, a heritage that must be experienced and to some extent learned. We each have a unique identity; whether we have articulated that or not, that is our founding gift, and it is that which mediates the Gospel to the members of our institute. The for-mation process takes place according to this founding gift.4 The community at large is very important in this aspect of the process. The Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults in number four states: "The initia-tion of catechumens takes place, step by step, in the midst of the com-munity of the faithful. Together with the catechumens, the faithful reflect upon the value of the Paschal Mystery, renew their own conversion, and by their example lead the catechumens to obey the Holy Spirit more gener-ously." Since the call to religious consecration is a call to the deepening of one's baptismal consecration, an analogy can be drawn between the pre-novitiate and the catechumenate, between the involvement of the faithful and the indispensable involvement of the religious community in which the candidates seek membership. Members of religious communities see in their initiates not only a renewal of their individual covenant relationship with the Lord, but also the hopeof the continued life of the congregation. Rejoicing in and affirming new members in their call is essential. It draws the candidates into a large~',.sense of belonging, gives them a sense of his-tory and furnishes them with many more individual touchstones of unique charism, as well as an experience of charism in the corporate sense. For those who are already part of the community at large there is not only the opportunity but the responsibility to participate in "handing on" the congregation's traditions, and of being a "welcoming presence." "Welcoming presence" says, "this is how we are." At times of celebra-tion, community prayer and working together, it is a presence that says, "This is the diversity of ways in which we express our common charism. For us, Sisters of Notre Dame, our charism includes a simplicity of life and an experience of the Father's provident care in our lives that is expressed in the phrase 'How good is the good God!'. These elements of our shared vision are concretized in a special family spirit, and in our efforts to min-ister to the poor, to bring hope to them through evangelization and catechesis. You are welcome to be with us and to bring your uniqueness to our vision." 350 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 Once again it is absolutely necessary, though, that the "welcoming" not become a welcome that demands immediate conformity. The com-munity must understand the "in-between" nature of pre-novitiate and the primacy during this time of confirming the choice of this particular lifestyle within the basic call to holiness. "Welcoming" also includes welcoming gifts and initiative. When I enter into a relationship with hnother, I invite the possibility of being changed by that encounter. I trust that the new vision that we come to share together is good and growth producing. This is true of the new members in community. "Candidate" is not necessarily equal to "'young" and "inexperienced." We need to remind ourselves of that at times, and let our welcome include the invitation to enter into our life in a meaningful and effective way. 'Practically, this means including our candidates in tl~6 significant events of our community: meetings, renewals, ;'futuring" ses-sions, preparations for chapter and the like. It means valuing their gifts and expertise, and accepting these when they are offered in service of the com-munity and of the Church. These men and women of today can help us in our struggle to find ways to incarnate our charism into our life and ministry and to meet the needs of our times in a realistic way~ There is a very healthy discomfort that we experience when we feel pulled in two directions, a discomfort that moves us to action, to choice. The tensions experienced by newcomers to religious life are opportunities for self-awareness, for growth and for authentic discernment of a lifetime commitment. Being aware that they exist, dealing with them in realistic ways and' soliciting the understanding and support of community members in helping candidates to live and grow with them can only be an invalu-able asset to any formation process. .~ . NOTES ~ Jean Vanier, Community and Growth: Our Pilgrimage Together (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 5 I. 2 Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine (New York: Bantam Books, 1976), p. 27. 3 Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Ltfe, n. 48. 4 lbid, n. 44. Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Well known to our readers, Father Arbuckle is the prime mover and designer of the summer workshop, sponsored Dy R~viEw Eon R~L~¢~OUS and St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, entitled: "Refounding Religious Life from Within: Strategies for Leadership." His previous article, "Mythology, Revitalization and the Refounding of Religious Life," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1987. Father Arbuckle's.permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box 1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Supra-nationalism is the ability and the willingness of individuals or groups to strive to id.entify with cultures and needs beyond the frontiers of their own country in ways that are both critical and non-exclusive. (Multiculturalism, on the other hand, is the same ability and willingness, but directed to other cultures within the boundaries of one's own country.) This identification with cultures, be it noted, is not blind or uncritical. The weaknesses, as well as the strengths, of cultures are recognized. Moreover, this identification is not exclusive. That is, supranationalists are open to still other cultures beyond those with which they are immediately con-cerned. Christ calls his followers to a basic supranationalism, They are them-selves to be reconciled with the Father through love, and they are to express this reconciliation in their relations with other peoples and cultures. With-out, this love of the Father, a gift of the Holy Spirit, the reconciling rela-tionship with those around us cannot be sustained. Selfishness and the desire for power over others will overcome us. Ultimately we are encour-aged in this struggle to be reconciled wi(h the Father and with one another 351 352 / Review for Religious, May~June, 1987 by the hope of the "new heavens arid a new earth" in the fullness of God's kingdom yet to come, "where; accordihg t6 his promise, the justice of God will reside" (2 P 3:13). " The world is fractured by ideological conflicts, pathoio~ical forms of nationalism and intercultural tensions. It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22), desperately in need of reconciliation across and within national frontiers. ~ Inasmuch as many religious orders are stamped with an interna-tional character, the Church rightly expects of them bold evangelical initiatives in response to today's critical need for supranationalism.2 But are religious orders responding to this challenge to provide lead-ership not just to the Church but also to the world itself?. Or have some congregations settled into a comfortable, introverted type of "ecclesiastical nationalism"? What conditions are necessary for religious congregations to express in spirit and action a much-needed supranationalism? This article is an attempt to respond to such questions. I will - show how prejudice obstructs sup.ranationalism; - explain the New Testament call to supranationalism; - reflect on how religious orders have in the past responded to the challenge of supranationalism; - construct two models which religious institutes can use to mea-sure their own response to the challenge of supranationalism; - reflect on the role of ongoing conversion as an essential require-ment for supranationalism. Excessive Nationalism: the Obstacle to Supranationalism Nationalism is a complex word to define. It expresses a form of group consciousness, that is, consciousness of membership in a nation. In this lim-ited sense, nationalism is good. It gives people a sense of meaning and iden-tity, a respect for their past, the energy to work together for the common good. When, however, people begin to believe that they are superior to other peoples and cultures, then nationalism becomes excessive. People become unable to look beyond (supra) their national borders to learn from the values and experiences of other cultures. At the heart of excessive nationalism is cultural prejudice. Prejudice is an "attitude towards a person who belongs to a group simply because he belongs to that group and is therefore presumed to have the qualities ascribed to that group." 3 In brief, prejudice involves a predisposition toward a group of people that is not derived from adequate information. There are two aspects to cultural prejudice to be noted. Firstly, there is the meaning aspect or stereotype. A stereotype is ,a preformed image or picture or judgment about people, whether favorable or unfavorable: "The Beyond Frontiers / 353 Irish are prone to excessive use of alcohol." "All Italians sing beau-tifully." The second aspect is the feeling dimension. The prejudiced person sees only what he or she wants to see, even to the point of seeing things that are not there at all. The causes of prejudice are complex and many: fear of people who are different, a desire to exploit, a need to bolster one's personal and cultural self-esteem .4 Culturally prejudiced people can show excessive nationalism in one of two major ways. Firstly, they can seek to impose on "decadent and imper-fect cultures" their own "perfect" values and customs, coming to treat subject people like children---or worse. Secondly, a particularly insidious form of cultural prejudice is cultural romanticism. The foreign culture with which the individual wishes to identify is considered "perfect," and his or her culture-of-origin is thought to be thoroughly decadent. Often the romantic will seek to freeze the new culture in time, thinking any change will undermine its "perfection." This type of romanticism is alive and well, especially among foreigners working in Third World countries. Romanticism is also apt to show itself in overidentifying with nation-alist movements in those cultures or nations. Here, would-be agenis for change sometimes lose all sense of objectivity; they fail to see the violence and tragic effects of their overinvolvement in nationalist movements. Some-times more nationalistic than the locals themselves, they become severely condemnatory of the values and customs of their own cultures-of-origin.5 It is not easy for a person to become truly supranationalist. Supranationalism can only result from the ongoing personal struggle for truth and for the desire to respond to this truth. First one must face the truth about oneself: we are all prejudiced in one way or another. Self-knowledge is always extremely difficult. It also happens to be highly inconvenient, because as a result of a better knowledge of myself and my prejudices, I may have to do something about it. Human beings are highly skilled in avoiding truths about themselves; we are accomplished fugitives from our-selves. If I have the courage to discover my cultural prejudices, I then need a strong motivation to put them aside. It is much easier and simpler to ignore my prejudices! Supranationalism and the New Testament The heart of the Christian .message is that God "has reconciled us to himself through Christ" (2 Co 5:18) and his peace, a peace that can never come from mere human action (Jn 15:27), that we struggle to share with our brothers and sisters no matter what culture or nation they belong to (Rm :354 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 12:18). This peace, the fruit of love in the Spirit, motivates us to respect cultural differences and the just aspirations of people; it shows itself in "patience, generosity., mildness" (Ga 5:22f). It includes an openness to learn how God has worked in the lives and cultures of other peoples. There will be no jealousy for their achievements nor will there be a boast-ing over the accomplishments of one's own nation or culture (ibid v. 26). There will be ~he courage to challenge people of different cultures to face obstacles, for example, personal and social sin, that hinder or prevent them from achieving reconciliation with God and with each other. Followers of Christ know that they can avoid excessive nationalism in its various forms only if they remain truly open to the .Transcendent, allowing it to influence their lives in each one's particular cultural situation, even as they await the fullness of justice and peace ~n the world to come. Not surprisingly, Jesus directly confronted the excessive nationalism of his day, urging his followers to be supranationalists. At the time of Christ, Jews looked on Samaritans as uncouth, stupid, heretical. And Samaritans had similar views of their Jewish neighbors. As Scripture com-mentator, J. McKenzie, points out: "There was no deeper break 6f human relations in the contemporary world than the feud of Jews and Samaritans, and the breadth and depth of J~sus' doctrine of love could demand no greater act of a Jew than to accept a Samaritan as a brother."6 Those who heard Jesus speak would have been left in no doubt about the meaning of what we now call the Good Samaritan incident. The Samaritan is manifestly a supranationalist! Jesus' listeners are stunned to heai- him say "Go, do likewise!" (Lk 10:37). In a second story, this time a personal event in Christ's life, Jesus is an "international traveler" and exemplifies his own supranationalism in his relations with the Samaritan woman at the well (Jn 4). Not only does the woman experience Christian politeness for the first time, but she is told that eternal salvation is open to her through the love of the Father. Of all the early followers of Christ, Paul stands out as the model of supranationalism in evangelization. He had been a thoroughly fanatical sup-porter of Jewish culture, a rabid nationa~list, but underwent a dramatic theological and attitudinal transformation once he began to preach the Gospel in Gentile cultures. In Paul's epistles we see depicted the attitudes that must govern the evangelizeras he or she relates to different cultures. Firstly, the evangelizer must identi.fy as far as possible with the cultures of people to be e.vangelized: "I became like a Jew to the Jews in order to win the Jews. To those bound by the law I became like one who is bound (although in Beyond Frontiers / 355 fact Iam not bound by it), that I might win those bound by the law . I have made myself all things to all men in order to save at least some of them" (1 Co 9:20, 22). Secondly, identification with the aspirations of peo-pies of different cultures should be critical (Ga 5:1-6). Thirdly, the Gospel message is to be preached in its fullness; our struggles for justice and peace in this world are but the seed and the beginning of the kingdom of God here below; it will find its completion at the end of time with the resurrection of the dead and the renewal of the whole of creation (Rm 8:1 1- 21).7 Religious Life: Internationalism and Supranationalism .~ On one occasion, while doing research in a Third World village, I over-heard villagers speaking about the "Backhome Man." Each time they used the expression there would be hoots of laughter. I discovered the man who delighted them was an evangelizer from another coun.try who began sentences with the expression "Back home . . ." so often that the people nicknamed him the "Backhome Man." The evangelizer had the gift of internationalism, that is, he was prepared to live in someone else's coun-try, b.ut apparently he was slow to learn anything from the host culture. He lacked the gift of supranationalism; he was willing to give (on his terms), but not to receive. Our "Backhome Man" sadly lived a stunted religious life as well. For the true religious dedicates himself or herself totally to God, the Supreme Love. In a new and special way the religious makes himself or herself entirely over to God, to serve and honor him in and through the Church.8 The religious should seek to be an exemplary disciple of the Lord, to be one with him in his mission to the world.,The object of his. mission is the person "whole and entire, body and soul,',9 involving what we call today integral salvation. Supranationalism (and mu!ticuituralism) opens the way to this concern, for it relates to the well-being of both body and soul of the peoples of this world in their concrete reality. For this reason, because of their radical commitment to the Lord and to his Church, religious must be in the forefront in fosteringthe virtues of human solidarity and interdependence. Two questions are~to be asked: have religious congregations in the past fostered supranationalism? How are they responding to this challenge today? I will take each question in turn. Religious Life and Supranationalism before Vatican II There is no doubt about the involvement of religious congregations in internationalism over the three hundred years prior to Vatican II. Religious, 356 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 very often from newly formed congregations, moved into recently discov-ered countries, frequently braving, atrocious physical conditions, in order to spread the faith.~ While many individual religious aspired to identify with the cultures of the people they were evangelizing, rarely was the work of religious congregations themselves marked by the spirit of supranationalism within those countries which we now call the Third World. At the risk of grave oversimplification I will explain briefly why it was difficult for religious to express supranationalism, in evangelization. ~0 From the fifteenth century onwards, a marked inflexibility in the Church's rela-tionship with cultures, especially beyond Europe, developed. This inflexibility affected the missionary policies of religious Congregations. Prior to this period, most especially in the early centuries,o.the Church often related to cultures in remarkably flexible ways. Pope Gregory the Great's directive to Augustine of Canterbury 'in the year 601 about not destroying the temples of the gods, and,the need to place the relics of the saints in those same temples is rather symbolic of the flexibility of the period. ~ This openness, however, was not to continue; The Church became more and more culturally "Euro-centric" in its expression of the faith. In more modern times, as European colonial expansion developed, it was this Euro-centric Church that was to accompany it. As one commentator put it: "The missionaries--true children of their times--shared the intolerant and prejudiced views of the conquistadores on the native cultures and religions.''~2 The European Ch~'ch was to be planted in the new lands with-out change. The cultures of the people being evangelized were seen as unim-portant; priority was given to the conversion and salvation of individual souls: Rarely did missionaries see the need to understand local cultures-- or even at times to learn the local languages.13 There were vigorous, but eventually unsuccessful, reactions against this arrogant ecclesiastical/colonial European nationalism. From the Con-gregation of the Propagation of the Faith in 1622 there came a very force-ful condemnation of cultural prejudice: What could be more absurd than to carry France, Spain, or lt~l~,, or any other part of Europe into China? It is not this sort of thing you are to bring but rather the Faith, which does not reject or damage any people's rites and customs provided' they are not depraved . Let customs that prove to be depraved be uprooted more by hints and by silence., gradually without jolting. 14 People like the Capuchin Father Jerom Meroila in the Congo in the sev-enteenth century ~eriously endeavored to follow this advice. ~5 Jesuits in par-ticular, notably de Nobili and Ricci, led the movement for accommoda- Beyond Frontiers / 357 tion and adaptation with a flexibility characteristic of the early Church. 16 Tragically, these efforts to revitalize supranationalism within the Church were crushed with the rejection of the work of Ricci and his companions in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In the late nineteenth century the revival of Thomistic Aristotelianism, which encouraged people to look for what is good and of God within cul-tures, sparked off a new movement that would many decades later lead to the return of the Churcl~'s early pastoral flexibility. Euro-centric prejudice in evangelizers was condemned. 17 At the same time there developed within the Church a vigorous support for the rights of all people in regard to their culture and national identity. ~8 But it would take a long time before the pas-toral implications of these emphases would be worked out. Many evangelizers yearned to revive the apostolic approach of people like Ricci, but multiple factors made it difficult for these dreams to be realized. Thus, for instance, as long as the theQlogy of the local church remained under-developed, it would be difficult to explore fully the pastoral implications of the relationship of evangelization to culture. Terms like "accommoda-tion" or "adaptation" became common in missiology. But theologically and pastorally they connoted not an exchange between the Gospel and cul-tures, but rather a process of.choosing what local value or custom could be used to express better the meaning of the faith. The local faithful, how-ever, were not to be involved in t.his process of choice. So, while the rhetoric favored flexibility, in practice the Church remained fundamentally Euro-centric in its evangelizing aims and methods. Understandably, religious life mirrored this ongoing European empha-sis. 19 This was evident in the rigidity with which Europ.ean forms and struc-tures of religious life were uncritically exposed and planted in other cul-tures. At times local vocations were not encouraged because it was thought the people were "just not ready and mature enough" to undertake the responsibilities of religious life. Moreover, the fact that Europe and America had what was thought to be an endless supply of missionary vocations removed.a good ideal of the urgency to discover what were the practical implications of the phrase "accommodating the faith to local cul-tures~" Religious congregations continued to become dramatically international, but rarely did they become supra-national. At times the internal structuring or method of governing missionary ven~ tures further reinforced the spirit and practice of the European colonialism. For example, some congregations favored the system of attaching mission-ary endeavors directly to particular provinces in Europe and America. Invari-ably, this meant that French missionaries were isolated in one part of a Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 "mission" land, Americans in another, and so on. Hence, a "little France" or a "little America" could exist in Third World countries, with no outside challenge to such assumptions of cultural superiority. In view of all these forces, therefore, it is not surprising that indigenous forms of religious life have rarely developed in the Third World; the mode.Is remain overwhelmingly First World in design.2° Reiigious Life and Supranationalism after Vatican II With Vatican II, and with subsequent reflection, religious life has been challenged to'its very roots by a revitalized theology of evangelization and of the local church. The relationship that should e~ist between the Gospel and cultures has been clarified. Evangelization is to be a "living exchange between the Church and the diverse cultures of people:''2t The Church, which ~s itself a culture, must be prepared, to chahge and develop new insights into how the Gospel is to be preached through a process of exchange and dialogue with the people being evangelized. This exchange process is what is now called inculturation. The expressions accommodation and adaptation do not quite convey this emphasis on exchange. Rather they imply that the Church gives to cul-tures, but does not receive. As historical expressions they were found to be dated; hence, the new word inculturation was developed in order to high-light the importance of exchange.2z Evangelization is not to be directed to the soul alone, but to the person--"whole and entire, body and soul.''23 "What mhtters," declares Paul VI, "is to evangelize man's culture and cultures [not in a purely decorative way, as it were, by applying a thin veneer, but in a vital way, in depth and right to their very roots].''z4 The search for justice in this world is not something secondary to evangelization, but it is a constituent part of the mission of the Church.25 However, as was pointed out above, the Gospel, and therefore evangelization, can never be exclusively identified with this or that culture, or with the pursuit of justice in this world alone. Evangelization must include the "prophetic proclamation of a hereafter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both continuity and discontinuity with the present sit-uation: beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world ¯ . . beyond man himself, whose true destiny is not restricted to his tem-poral aspect but will be revealed in the future life.''26 In brief, evangelization must call people to a life of evangelical supranationalism. These emphases have serious ramifications for the religious who is an evangelizer. The evangelizer's task is to facilitate the dialogue between cul-ture and the Gospel. The religious must prophetically call people to this dialogue first, by the witness of his or her evangelical example, and then, Beyond Frontiers / 359 by the preaching of the Word of God. The dialogue to be aimed at is not merely intellectual. Rather it must be a faith interaction in which people are invited to interior conversion. To quote Paul VI again: "The Church evangelizes when she seeks to convert, solely through ttie divine power of the Message she proclaims, both the personal and collective consciences of people, the activities in which they engage, and the lives and concrete milieus which are theirs."zv Conversion is not brought about through author-itarian dictation, nor is it achieved through various forms of cultural romanticism. The religious, who in his orher zeal for :social justice overidentifies with nationalism or the protest movements of people against oppression cannot prophetically proclaim that "man's profound and definitive calling . . . [is] beyond time and history, beyond the transient reality of this world." Such a religious falls victim to the insidious power of cultural romanticism. Especially in parts of the Third World in which there is so much oppres-sion by the rich over the poor, massive injustices and corruption, the con-cerned religious is severely tempted to fall into a form of romanticism. Paulo Freire, the brilliant South American educator., has warned people to avoid the trap of romanticism. In order to remain objective and helpful to the oppressed, those who would be change-agents must, he says, undergo a profound rebirth. They must rise above the desire to overcome oppressors through the use of the same force that they used to subjugate the poor.28 The evangelizer, too, must at all times maintain the objectivity that is necessary to proclaim the fullness of the Gospel message with its power for salvation. St. Paul reminds us: "It was for liberty that Christ freed us. So stand firm, and do not take on.yourselves the yoke of slavery a second time" (Ga. 5:1). If the temptation in the past was for evangelizers to fall into the trap of Euro-centric cultural evangelization, then today's special temptation is to become slaves for "a second time" through cultural romanticism. Both forms of slavery obstruct our prophetic freedom. Religious specially should commit themselves to fulfill St. Paul's call for Christians to be ambassadors of reconciliation (2 Co 5:20). If religious overidentify with political parties, pressure groups or nationalist move-ments in the name for social justice, they jeopardize their prophetic role as reconcilers in Christ of all peoples--the oppressed and the oppressors. The chance to witness to the transcendent love of the Father for all is in danger. For example, if I as a religious join a political party, I become inevitably cut off in various ways from other sectors of society I seek to evangelize. I cease to be free to act credibly as an ambassador of reconcil-iation between all groups within that society. This fact helps to explain 360 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 John Paul II's insistence that politics should normally be left to lay people. In his address to priests in San Salvador (March 6, 1983) he said: "Remem-ber, my dear brothers, that--as I said to the priests and religious in Mexico~you~are hOtsocial directors, political leaders, or officials of a tem-poral power . " Religious are rather to foster among the laity a com-mitment to witness to the Gospel in the secular world as directors, leaders and officials. Though excessive nationalism is much less a temptation to evangelizers in the First World than in the Third, nonetheless these can still easily fall into other forms of cultural romanticism. For example, religious may become so involved in maintenance work in dioceses that they forget their prophetic and innovative role. Or, in their zeal to solve social problems, religious may turn to secular methods and values alone, ignoring or downgrading the supernational importance. We come to the second question: Are religious congregations respond-ing to the challenge given them by the Church today? Only through a process of discernment and reflection can each congre-gation. respond to this question. However, in order to aid this process I will offer two extreme polar models of religious congregations. These models can help religious to measure their own behavior and that of their institutes. It would be rare indeed if any particular congregation perfectly fitte~l either of ,the models described. Models in anthropological analysis are simple, abstract representations of human~' experience and interactions which are often highly complex in real life. Models are constructed~ to he!p under-standing, and to do so they emphasize major themes or characteristics and overlook details. It is up to the reader or researcher to modify, refine-~or even reject--models in light of his or her experience. Model 1: Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism ~ Anthropologists have discovered a type of society that is organized on the basis of segmentation.29 The society is divided up into segments for a variety of reasons, but these segments are not permanently divided, since they are united at other levels to form new and more inclusive segments when certain common needs require this. Total unity is very fragile and, like all levels of unity at any stage in the society, it disintegrates once the reason for the unity disappears. In brief, there are factors within the soci-ety that encourage people to form opposing groups, but there are counterbalancing factors that draw people in these groups together at other levels. Suspicion or potential/actual conflict or feuds divide the segments Beyond Frontiers / 361 Figure 1 Model I. Internationalism/Faint Supranationalism Factors Conducive to Internationalism/Supranationalism Constitutions/Mission Statements: -rhetoric favors supranationalism Commitment to supranationalism: -Weak in congregation Factors Conducive to Provincialism/Segmentation Commitment to provincial boundaries strong: Central Government: General Chapter: -symbol of unity; -rhetoric favors supranationalism General Government: -symbol of unity/internationalism -supplies bureaucratic needs, for example, dispensation --charism research Interprovincial-Regional Cooperation: -weak: last resort Apostolates: -in Third World for vocations/sur-vival. Formation: -international/interprovincial only in extreme need -inward looking vision -prophetic figures marginalized Provincial Government: -commitment to survival of prov-ince as the priority -suspicious of outside "interference," for example, General Government Apostolates: -Identification with diocesan main-tenance works -prophetic role weak -if clerical-religious, clericalism strong -weak involvement in multiculturalism Formation: -poor screening; concern for numbers -no training for multiculturalism/ supranationalism and are put aside only when common needs demand unity for survival. A feud can be defined as relations of mutual animosity among intimate groups in which a resort to violence is anticipated on both sides.3° The violence does not have to be physical; it can be verbal. Past injustices or misunderstandings are recalled to remind all concerned that the "out- 362 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 group" simply cannot be trusted to work with the "in-group." There may be an official leader in such a society, but the real power rests in the various segments, the lowest segment having the most power over its members. Oft-repeated rhetoric supportive of total unity is apt to so confuse the observer that it is thought that real unity exists, when, in fact, such is far from being the case. In Model ! of religious congregations that I am proposing the empha-sis is on internationalism, with a faint acceptance of supranationalism. A congregation of this type has the characteristics of the segmentary society or culture just described. In Figure 1, the major qualities of a segmentary congregation have been summarized. The official rhetoric is often power-fully supranationalist, as in general chapter documents or mission state-ments, but the ~-eality just as strongly contradicts this rhetoric. Internationalism exists inasmuch as some members live and work in for-eign lands, such as missionaries and general administrators. There may be a growing interest in the Third World countries inspired by the congrega-tion's rhetoric about the call to be at the service of the poor, but the really operative force would be the desire for vocations to keep the provinces and the congregation alive. The emphasis of recruitment is on numbers, not on the quality of the screening methods or the formation given. The formation remains culturally Euro-centric and paternal; the local cultures and their needs are ignored. Inculturation simply does not exist. Loyalty in the congregation imagined in this model is first and fore-most to the province to which one belongs, not to the congregation or its spirit.Whoever encourages congregational supranationalism would be thought a "traitor" to the province.3~ Cooperation exists between the prov-inces and with the general administration only when it is absolutely nec-essary- and even then fo~: the advantage primarily of the province. The gen-eral administration, for example, would be able to staff congregation-wide projects only through a process of bargaining, not dialogue. A province is prepared to release difficult personnel for such work, but not talented mem-bers, for the province's first obligation is to its own survival. "Talented people simply should not be released for work outside the province" is the overriding assumption. At international meetings of the congregation, pro-vinces look first to their own rights and their interests, not to those of the congregation. Suspicion and feud-like behavior colors the province's rela. tions with the general administration and with other provinces. Stories of past interference and misunderstandings on the part of general officers are gleefully recounted in order to maintain in the province a distrust of "out. siders." Beyond Frontiers" Apostolically, provinces in this model are strong supporters of main-tenance rather than of mission within the dioceses in which they work. A province takes its bearings all too exclusively from the internal ecclesiastical and socioeconomic structure of the countries where its apostolates are situated.32 There is little or no prophetic challenging of dioceses or diocesan administrations. Consequently, there is little room for other issues such as justice or multiculturalism/supranationalism. Individ-uals wh0do show interest are thought to be "somewhat odd," or follow-ing a "hobby," or just "wasting time." On the other hand, where involve-ment in the social apostolate is encouraged, its relationship with the Transcendent may be deliberately played down "lest one's identification with the Gospel hinder one's identification with those who struggle for social justice." In this model clericalism would be a dominant force in clerical insti-tutes. (Clericalism connotes "an authoritarian style of ministerial leader-ship, a rigidly hierarchical world view, and a virtual identification of the holiness and grace of the Church with the clerical state and, thereby, with the cleric himself.''33) Consequently, within community there would be little fraternity with lay members of the congregation who would be looked down upon as inferior and as "servants of the priests." Lay involvement in apostolic works of the congregation would be poorly encouraged. On the other hand, religious who might act against clericalism would overidentify with worldly values and with the customs of the ambient cul-ture on the pretext that this will "bring us closer to the people we are evangelizing." As regards the screening and formation of candidates, the approach in such a congregation would be colored by all the above characteristics. Can-didates would be encouraged to join the province if they are seen to have the qualities that would "fit them in" to the overriding inward-looking, weakly prophetic ethos of the province. Candidates would be jealously iso-lated from contact with those from other provinces lest they develop "dan-gerous ideas," supranationalism, or the feeling of belonging to a "con-gregation wider than the province." Formators of other provinces could not be trusted to direct the formation of candidates because they might decide that the latter have "no vocation to religious life." Hence, interprovincial and international formation programs would be severely discouraged. Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism In Figure 2, I set out emphases that are seen in congregations which approximate the second model, Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism. 364 / Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 The members of such a religious congregation commit themselves primar-ily to the mission of Christ and the Church according to the insights of the founding figure. Administrative structures such as provinces exist to facil-itate the response of the congregation itself to the mission of Christ. The spiritual and human welfare of members of the congregation is considered of paramount imporiance. The congregation's administrators are alive to the ctiallenge given them by Paul VI that they take up the "double task of inspiring and innovating in order to make structures evolve, so as to adapt them to the real needs" of mission and personnel.34'Provinces relate to one another and to the general administration on the basis of their common mission and according to subsidiar{ty, dialogue and discernment. Apostolates are selected according to definite objective criteria: the pri-ority of needs in the universal Church and local churches, the mission of the Church, the charism of the congregation and the resources available. The congregation hesitates to accept parishes unless there is scope for mis-sionary and creative pastoral action. No matter what apostolate is selected, members of~ the congregation will attitudinally be influenced in all they do by the need to call the People of God to multiculturalism/supranationalism. Given the priority of needs internationally today, congregations may strive, where possib!e, to witness to supranationalism by establishing international teams. For these teams to be effective they need to fulfill various require-ments. Firstly, those selected must be capable of living internationally according to the principles of supranationalism. Not everyone has the abil-ity to live and work on an international team; there can be heavy d6mands on the psychological and spiritual resources of individuals as they are called to face up to the requirements of constant adaptation to new cultural con-ditions. Secondly, members of teams must be given the chance for adequate preparation spiritually and humanly in order that they can fit into challeng-ing international and intercultural situations. This means not only the acquisi-tion of linguistic skills, but also an awareness of key anthropological insights into the nature and power of culture, culture change, the role of catalysts in culture change, and so forth. In their training programs mem-bers will need to have adequate periods of living in cultures very different from their own. They will need to experience the shock of being "at sea" in a culture that is unfamiliar to them; they will need to discover for them-selves the richness of being humble and dependent on other people whose culture they do not know or understand. Their own cultural biases and preju-dices must be challenged, otherwise an insidious ethnocentrism will govern their relations with other team members and the peoplethey hope to serve Beyond Frontiers / 365 Figure 2 Model 2. Internationalism/Strong Supranationalism Loyalty: primarily to the Congregation which is at the service of the mission of Christ and Church. Apostolates: based on -priority of needs in universal Church (internationalism/supranationalism) and local churches (multiculturalism). -charism of congregation -available resources Administration: -at service of mission -provinces and general administration relate on basis of common mission/subsidiarity/ dialogue-discernment Formation: Initial: On _going. -based on mission/charism -emphasis on union with Christ for cre-ative response to demands of change. -training for internationalism/ multiculturalism/supr-anationalism -revitalization of commitment to: -Christ -Congregation -creativity/adapability in change pastorally. Thirdly, in the structuring of an international team, as far as is possi-ble no one culture should predominate. If one cultural group does predom-inate, it is likely to over-influence attitudes and policies of the group.35 If a culturally balanced team is not possible, the predominant cultural group must be especially sensitive to avoid obstructing the emergence of 366 / Review for Religious, May-~June, 1987 supranationalism in the team. From history, such international teams as I have described are apt to foster vigorous creativity pastorally and in religious life. As Raymond Hostie notes: Basic to all institutions that became remarkable for their explosive expan-sion is an initial heterogeneous core. Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits and Piarists, all emerged from groups whose members belonged to three nationalities, or even four or five. The initial group of Franciscans, CamillianS, Brothers of the Christian Schools and the Salesians was composed of men of very disparate social rank and cultural level. Heterogeneity is a necessary condition for activating effective fermentation.36 Initial formation in Model 2 is dictated by the demands of mission and the charism of the congregation. Hence, the programs are structured to foster in candidates a spirit of adaptability to constant change.37 Spiritual formation will be aimed at uncovering within candidates their own inner poverty and their ongoing need of strength from Christ: "He who loves his life loses it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eter-nal life" (Jn 12:25). The process of initial formation is a delicate one requir-ing skilled people to accompany candidates through the journey of self-discovery. Though the formation program is spread over several years and may well involve experiences in different cultural situations, there will be formators to whom candidates are clearly accountabl~. In Model 2, forma-tion is not a haphazard arrangement. As with initial formation, the ongoing formation programs are structured on the basis of the needs of mission. Religious need oppor-tunities to revitalize their commitment to Christ and to their congregational charism. They need space to reflect on whether or not their commitment to multiculturalism/supranationalism is rhetoric or reality. Over time, reli-gious may have uncritically absorbed negative values from the culture in which they work; little by little their supranationalism and pastoral creativ-ity may have been undermined. In this model it is assumed that adminis-trative structures are so flexible that superiors are able to spot quickly the individual needs of evangelizers and offer appropriate assistance. This ser-vice to evangelizers is part of a much wider task of administrations, namely, the ongoing need to foster evaluation of the apostolic relevance and effectiveness of the teams. In this model apostolates aie hot permitted~ to drift without goals and without effective evaluations. Conversion to Supranationalism In J.R. Toikien's The Hobbit: Or There and Back Again, Bilbo Beyond Frontiers / 367 Baggins initially turns down an invitation to go on a journey. He is too com-f0rtable in his way of life to be bothered with the trials of an adventure. He finally accepts the challenge and even begins to enjoy it. The cultures and the people he meets both disturb and intrigue him. But he soon tires of the constant need to adapt to new challenges, so he turns for home and retreats from the world of adventure singing:."Feet that wandering have gone, Turn at last'to home afar. Eyes . . . Look at last on meadows green.-38 Most of us can identify with Bilbo. We commit ourselves to multiculturalism/supranationalism, that is to the preaching of God's love across the frontiers of cultures. Yet we are tempted at times to weaken our efforts, to seek the security of our own cultures and our prejudices. Inevitably we will give way to these temptations, thus losing our apostolic effectiveness, if we seek to rely on merely human motivation. There is needed that inner, ongoing conversion that comes~from being a new creation in Christ (2 Co 5:17). Only in the ongo.ing response.to this new life will we have the inner resources to become "all things to all men" (1 Co 9:22). The divine love within us gives us the evangelical muscle to keep struggling to be open to other p~oples "~nd their cultures: "Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not jealous, it does not l~ut on airs, it is not snobbish . There is no limit to love's forbearance, to its trust, its hope, its power to endure" (! Co 13:4,6). St. Paul uses the analogy of a runner when he explains the process of ongoing conversion. To stop runn.ing for the Lord is to fall back into purely human insights and comforts (1 Co 9:24-27). Constant discipline 6f the whole person is required: "Athletes deny themselves all sorts of things: . . . What I do is discipline my own body and master it; for fear that after having preached to others I myself ~.hould be rejected" (ibid). The discipline of conversion also involves the Struggle .to identify one's own cultural prejudices, and the battle to remove them. It is a never-ending struggle and battle! I recall a fine evangelizer working outside his culture-of-origin commenting: '~I th6.ught for years I was not prejudiced. I believedI deeply loved these people. One day ! discovered that I was highly prejudiced and this shocked me intense]y. I could get no good ser-vice in the local shops, the car was slow to be fixed, letters were not reach-ing me fast enough, the food tasted horrible! I found myself complaining aloud about the people, and I used all the stereotypes about them that I had thought I had long rejected: 'These silly people--they are lazy, deceitful. If only I was back home where things are really done rightly!' " This evangelizer is an honest person. He courageously recognized' his prejudices as grave obstacles to his supranational work of evangelization, and courageously struggled to remove them. He understands that self- 361~ /Review for Religious, May--June, 1987 discipline must be ongoing. When Yahweh called Abraham, he summoned him to leave the warmth of his familiar surroundings to begin a life's journey: "Go forth from the land of your kinsfolk and from your father's house to a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1). R(ligious are to live out the same kind of call in a' spirit of faith. Bilbo, when he started out on his journey, sang "The world is ahead and home behind," but finally rejoiced when he could sing "The world is behind and home ahead." For we religious, unlike Bilbo, the ~hailenges of the world ahead are always with us; we can never say that we run out6f apostoli.c challenges or adventures. And our home is also ahead of u~. We await in hope for the ne, w Jerusalerrl (Ga 4:26). We can resist making this world our substitute Jerusalem only if we have Abraham's spirit of detachment and faith. Detachment comes from discov-ering in oneself one's own chaotic powerlessness to be supranationalist with-oiat the love and power of Christ. If we recognize our own inner helplessness, then we can say with'St. Paul: "And' so I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me . . . for when I am powerless, it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:9f.). Summary With St. Paul we say: "I do not run like a man who loses sight of the finish line" (1 Co 9:26). The ultimate finish line, in which there will be perfect justice and love, is to.be found when "the new heavens and the new earth" emerge at the end of time (2 P 3: I'3). In this waiting time we strive in faith to express this justice and love towards different peoples and cultures: "There does not exist among you Jew or Greek, slave or freeman, male or female. All, are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Religious esl~ecially commit themselves to this vision and its realiza-tion. In their lives and preachiflg they call people to look beyond this or that pressure group, political party, cultural group, tO the needs and insights of other people and cultures.39 At the same time they challenge people to avoid an unrealistic and ~i'~ous search for ~ perfect world here below, "for the world as we know it° is passing away" (I Co 7:31). Religious,. when confronted by the enormity of evil around them will be tempted to discouragement, skepticism or even the recklessness of despair. They will bc tempted to retreat into the security of their cultural prejudices and feel-ings of superiority. Recourse to merely human power, even violence, in order to achieve human justice may look very attractive. However, the moment a religious gives way to these temptations, he or she ceases to be apostolically supranationalist --indeed, apostolically effective. Beyond Frontiers I 369 NOTES ~ See John Paul II, Redemptor Hominis, 1979, par. 8. z See On Mutual Relations between Bishops and Religious, Congregations for Religious and Bishops, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 3 G. AIIport, The Nature of Prejudice (New York: Doubleday, 1958), p. 8. 4 See also D.L. Shields, Growing Beyond Prejudices (Mystic, Conn.: Twenty-Third Publications, 1986), pp. 149-176. 5 At times anthropologists, too, are guilty of romanticism. See G.E. Marcus and M.M. Fischer, Anthropology as Cultural Critique: An Experimental Moment in the Human Sciences (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1986), passim. 6 Dictionary of the Bible (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1986), p. 766. 7 See Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith, "Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation" in L'Osservatore Romano, 14 April, 1986, p. 5, par. 58. 8 See Lumen Gentium, par. 3. 9 Gaudium et Spes, par. 3. ~0 See G.A. Arbuckle, "lnculturation and Evangelization: Realism or Romanticism" in D.L. Whiteman (ed.), Missionaries, Anthropologists and Cultural Change (Williamsburg: Studies in Third World Societies, 1985), pp. 171-207. ~ See "Gregory's Counsel to Mellitus with Regard to the Heathen Temples in England" in A.J. Mason (ed.), The Mission of St. Augustine to England (Cambridge: CUP, 1879), pp. 89ff. t2 G. Voss, "Missionary Accommodation" in Missionary Academic Study No. 2 (New York: P. Faith, 1946), p. 17. ~3 See P. Duignan, "Early Jesuit Missionaries: A Suggestion for Further Study," in American Anthropologist, Vol. 6, pp. 725ff. 14 See S. Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, "Instructio ad Vicariorum Apostolicorum ad Regna Synarum Tonchini et Cocinnae Proficiscentium," in Collectanea Sacrae Congregationis de P. Fide (Rome, 1907), Vol. I, p. 42. ~5 See M.D. Jeffreys, "Some Rules of Directed Culture Change under Roman Catho-licism" in American Anthropologist, Vol. 58, 1956, pp. 723f. ~6 See C.W. Allan, Jesuits at the Court of Peking (Arlington: University Publications of America, 1975), passim; and P. Duignan, op. cit., pp; 726ff. t7 See Pius XII, "Princeps Pastorum" in (ed.)R. Hickey, Modern Missionary Doc-uments and Africa (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1982), p. 143. ~8 See Pius XII, AIIocution 6 Dec. 1953, in Acta

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ° Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for com~nercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli